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lazlolullaby · 27 days

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spy x family roleswap: Future Sight (Freelance) Yor, Assassin (in training) Anya, Telepath (Informant) Loid and Spy (unretired) Bond

i want to fully write this so bad but here have the premise + some ideas.

This starts with Yor. She was friends with the Garden, not officially an assassin. Her future sight was good for digging through rubble for people and supplies. Later it's good for dodging the SS and anyone she's avoiding. She ran smaller missions, researched targets, cleaned up, was partly but not fully trained like canon Yor.

McMahon picked up Anya. There was a splinter cell and they were training child assassins. This was considered unacceptable - any killing should be done by people who choose it, not ones raised with no choice but to follow orders. Never mind that they do this to keep vulnerable people out of harm, not use them as cannon fodder.

Yor could help because she was the only one who could dodge Anya's knives. It takes time but they get into a rhythm as mother and daughter. There are still Garden traitors out there but as long as Yor breathes she will not let Anya come to harm.

Anya doesn't really understand; Mama Yor does exercise with her, gently, enough that she can still feel good after they stop, that she doesn't collapse. She gets to sleep, and gets naps if she wants, she's woken softly. Anya gets to read and learn from books and ask Mama so many questions! Even if Yor doesn't know they go to the library and find out! And she gets to see kids and be nice to them instead of.instead of..instead!

The Shopkeeper finds this arrangement an opportunity, to grow fruit within a flower garden. "While beauty is needed, even valuable at points, it does not always sustain us."

Yor will infiltrate Eden academy as a mother, and get in with Melinda Desmond, the ex-prime minister's wife. She could get intel on their movements, if they would continue the war or not. Eden also has excellent security - it could trip up the Garden traitors that would try to steal Anya back from school.

Everything was going well - but now she needs a husband for the school interview! Where will she find one on such short notice! That wouldn't be suspicious of her and her daughter?

Enter Loid and his dog, Ozmund.

Loid was dug out of the rubble of his hometown and experimented on. He escaped as a teenager, tried to get back to his mother but she was dead when he made it to his extended families house. They were practically strangers to him, but encouraged him to enlist in the Army to "make something of himself" and "avenge her".

Loid couldn't stomach hearing the thoughts of people in a firefight. They all sounded the same, Westalian, Ostanian, they all wanted to survive. So he dodged the draft as well as he could. He got a scholarship and studied hard so he wouldn't be a foot soldier. Learned how to leverage blackmail to get supplies to where they were needed most, get messages to civilians for them to leave in time. Loid was considered for Secret Service training but he purposely failed some tests. For the past few years, he's been working as a trauma therapist and specializes in mute/deaf/other patients who are difficult to normally communicate with.

Fiona is his secretary, a WISE plant keeping an eye on a man with significant ability to get supplies and information from seemingly out to nowhere. She still has the same crush as canon Loid knows about her affection and is very much not interested. But since she doesn't say it ever outright he can't outright deny it so they're just stuck.

WISE knows about Loid, Loid knows about WISE. They're at an impasse, because he could blow the operation, but he chooses not to as long as he's not roped into full service. Loid takes on a few spies as his patients as well as allows himself to be used as an alibi - all to prevent another War, of course.

Franky was a soldier who ended up with a prosthetic leg and deaf in one ear. Loid helped him out of a depression and Franky works for WISE now as a top spy/equipment engineer. They work on a sign language together in their spare time.

Sylvia uncovered a secret dog training facility. Bond was nearly set to die, but Franky took him to Loid. Bond is named Ozmund, after the Wizard of Oz books. He's a therapy dog that's taken into the office a few days a week to work with the patients.

Then tons of WISE spies get taken out of commission, and suddenly Oz is needed for missions. The dog gets a combat outfit with pouches.

The outfit gets torn up and Loid has to take it to a tailor that won't ask questions. Yor is there, getting Anya's school clothes. Oz picks up that shes going to Eden Academy. The dog immediately puts together that if the child goes to Eden, they have a chance to meet with Donovan Desmond, a recluse that only goes to his children's school events.

Ozmund approaches Anya, and Anya reflexively smacks the dog's snout. Due to his spy training, Oz doesn't flinch. Anya apologizes, patting him softer, like Mama told her.

Loid sees it, hears from Yor's thoughts that she needs a husband for the Eden Academy interview. That Anya is great, but she can't help her alone. Loid can't ignore their thoughts, their worries and hopes about protecting each other.

Loid and Yor enter a fake marriage, juggling raising a child, their missions, and the slow, certain steps towards making a true family.

Misc:

Ozmund gets a new name, "Bond", after Anya's favorite show. Yor also wanted to pick a name, so now his full name is now Bond Ozmund Rudolf Forger. BORF.

Anya has a favorite knife that she keeps on her person. Loid and Yor were able to modify Mr. Chimera to have a secret pouch for her to store it. Anya also keeps peanuts in there.

Yor's future sight is a genetic gift. Her mother and grandmother had it and always warned her never to tell anyone. If she concentrates she can focus on events for one person and replay the vision. But she generally has 1 chance so she's very good at picking up small details at first glance.

Yor wears a different colored bracelet or ring for each day of the week. It's to help her figure out when her future vision happens. When Loid picks up on it he wears a matching tie or shirt.

Loid has a little more "edge" to him. More likely to stir the pot for fun, make gossip and push people into big reactions. Being able to hear all the hot gossip made him jaded and bored of people. Yor and Anya are more honest and open than what he's used to, and he's slowly starting to respond to their genuine feelings.

Loid's powers have developed enough for him to "speak" to others in their minds. It bypasses deafness and the language barrier as long as he's being clear. He explains it as some "ventriloquist tricks" to catch people off guard. He says he has a limited range of 30 feet (and leads WISE and the SS to believe the same) but his range goes up to 50 and if he focuses on a single person he can track to 75 feet.

Fiona believes that because Loid doesn't react to her declarations of love it means that she's immune to his telepathy and they are destined to be partners. Loid just has a very good poker face.

Possible side plot where Desmond was also experimented on by the same people that took Loid - he's a little older, probably volunteered and covered it up after to boot. I'm not sure if he's actually got powers or he didn't get powers and thus considered it a failure, feeding into his "people can never truly understand each other" philosophy.

Anya is being treated to a regimen of poisons to make her immune. The Garden splinter cell sneaks them into her kids snacks. It's why she likes peanuts so much. They taste the same no matter where she goes.

Loid being very up to date with fashion trends and helping Yor with her hair and makeup so that she can "fit in" with the Desmonds. Giving her a bit of polish to her natural style. Actually having a "girls styling day" where he disguises himself as a woman and they go shopping around town. (he says its for a psychological social study about how "women are perceived" but...nah he just thought it would be fun, and it was.)

When the roles are swapped like this, there's actually a psychological horror angle from Yor's POV about Loid.

(you know that your husband has secrets. To protect himself and this stitched up family. But every time it comes down to the wire he keeps saying the same lie: that he's a telepath. But why does he insist on it and try to prove it even when she doesn't ask? Why does he say that he knows about Anya he can't know he would have run if he really knew and wants to help them? No one helps, not without a price. She won't know the truth until it's too late to do anything. She can't trust him until he stops telling her that massive, insane lie.

...why does Loid look so sad?)

#spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #anya forger #bond forger #role swap au #lazlo's lulls #...yeah it's a lot but uhh...i can't look at it anymore #superspy franky franklin for the win actually #loid still has a crazy dating history because he was hunting for someone interesting rather than someone he could befriend #This family has me in a chokehold #Shaking up their dynamics in a jar and watching them float around

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mellanmir · 11 months

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dancing to the melodies of dreams

Story idea: Altair/Desmond, au: soulmates (where you get a mark and visit your soulmate in your dreams like a ghost, but they can't see you) and add a pinch of isu bullshit and you get a very confused and worried Umar and an Altaïr who really doesn't see what the problem is. It is not an imaginary friend.

Snippet (unbetaed):

Umar Ibn-La'Ahad is a working assassin — a good one at that, if he is allowed to say so — and is not unfamiliar with dangerous situations. Yet, never has he felt fear so strong it seems to squeeze all life out of him. He had his fair share of escaping dangerous situations, where his discovery would mean certain death, when you become hyperaware of the blood pumping in your veins and the air rushing into your lungs and the world just becomes a just a bit sharper, when your senses expand beyond their normal limits, and you just know where your target is. But that is a familiar state of being, a well-worn fear, known nearly as well as an old friend. In comparison, there is nothing more nerve-wracking than having to sit beside Maud and watching her laboring hard to give birth to their child. Helpless for this is a fight he can not bear in her stead. Not that he would ever tell her that. She would just laugh at him and tease him for weeks, reminding him of all the times she had bested him in a fight. But he can see the worry slowly etching itself between the wrinkles of the midwives, the nervous glances the assistants throw at each other. It has been many hours, yet there doesn’t seem much progress. He is not sure if Maud has picked up on it yet. He hopes not because this is just additional stress she surely doesn’t need at the moment.

More hours go by, and the winter rain beats merciless against the roof and walls, now no longer drowned out by Maud’s cries of pain and he never hated the silence more. He is holding her up now. She is too weak to even sit on her own, resting most of her weight on him. Compared to him, his wife, with her paler skin — a remnant of her grandparents’ legacy — looks even more white in contrast to his own. It feels clammy and cold and Maud’s body looses more strength with each hour passing, but her will only growths. Her eyes are sharp and alert and in the light of the candles, they glow like the golden pommel of her sword.

The winter storm is dying down outside and Umar can feel the end coming. Maud is screaming, using the last of her strength for bearing down and pushing, trusting in Umar to hold her up and the midwife to catch the baby.

Her scream tapers off and then her head lolls to the side and she becomes eerily still against him and for a heart stopping moment, Umar fears she became literally dead weight in his arm. Then he catches the faintest in- and exhale and the barely there beat of her heart and he wants to say a prayer in gratitude. It dies on his tongue and nearly chokes him when he notices it’s too quiet in the room — aren’t babies supposed to scream? — and sees the oldest midwife carefully disentangle the umbilical cord from his child’s neck. He strangled more than one person in his life; he knows what it means.

He wants to scream and cry, rage against the unfairness of it all. Instead, he carefully rises and carries Maud to the bed, so the assistants can clean her up. Now he says a quick prayer, eternally grateful that she isn’t awake. He feels hollow, like every good feeling and all his happiness has been washed away.

He doesn’t even remember crossing the room. One moment he was beside his dying wife, the next he stands next to his dead child, the midwifes carefully cleaning him of blood and other fluids.

He has a dead son.

Then suddenly one of the midwife starts a prayer of praising Allah and the other bundles his child in swathes of warm fabric in a hurry.

Maud gave birth to a healthy, wailing and very displeased son.

#assassins creed #assassin’s creed #umar ibn la'ahad #altair ibn la'ahad #maud #fanfiction #fanfiction snippet #umar pov #tw: child birth #tw: child death mention #dancing to the melodies of dreams

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kudzucataclysm · 2 years

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Hi I'm (relatively) new here so, how about a big ol' infodump on Shattered Earth so I'm up to speed ?

:O!!!!! so a new hand touches the beacon…

welcome!! and uuuh sure thing, take a seat somewhere and i’ll try my best to make it as cohesive as possible for ya

IT IS JUNE 8TH, 2005, almost 20 years after Earth was invaded by a extraterrestrial civilization from the planet Mars, and 43 years after a limited nuclear exchange, a small Yellowstone caldera eruption, AND a climate shattering WEATHER TERRORISM event. WOW

the US exists in a state of defanged limbo, under the thumb of an alien king, foreign countries, a plethora of ultracapitalist megacorporations, and its own underground criminal syndicate: The League. The only thing the country has going for it now is the headquarters for the world’s organization of superscientists, the Promethean Society, founded by renowned super scientist and twice savior of humanity, Lupe Altena- who hasn’t been seen in almost 15 years now, and because of this absence, the Society as well as the fragile peace between Earth and Mars has quietly slipped into disarray…

We have…man eating aliens! Half aliens! Alien space blood magic!! Superpowers!! Corporate owned superheroes!! Zombies!!! Dinosaurs!!!! Androids!!!! Conspiracies!!!!!

BUT THIS ISNT ABOUT THEM *shoves them off the table* ITS ABOUT THIS LOSER

this is our main protagonist! his name is Desmond Arkady, and he’s probably the most normal yet unluckiest character in this 80+ character cast. it’s through his experiences in accidentally getting involved in organized crime, superscience conspiracies, and ultimately just finding his way through life that the story of SE is slowly unraveled…in which, it turns out, he’s been an unaware key player this entire time against his will. :eyes:

SMALL BRAINDUMP TIIIME

SE is my baby. my number one. my big cheese, my good time boy ETC

Its been a sort of playground for me writing wise?? Like its a world for me to run around in and explore all sorts of crazy ideas and character developments/dynamics. The aliens are made of crude oil and have ghosts, 40% of the earth’s population has superpowers and the entire cast is completely made up of jerks and losers set in a retro future where the world just keeps ending and people cant really do anything about it

Also!! Themes of SE are fun, the whole ‘theres always a bigger fish’ motif that i dont talk about, the idea that “Martians need to eat, and humans dont wanna be eaten. Humans need resources/energy, but Martians dont wanna be turned into biofuel; humans are no longer at the top of the food chain and have to deal with that.” themes concerning the wasteland that politics create and unhealthy family/relationship dynamics and other darker themes v-v WITH A NEARLY ALL QUEER CAST! NEXT TO NO UWU SHIT EVERYONE HERE IS FUCKED UP and WILL fuck up. With everybody in SE i try my damndest to write them within a grey-black morality zone.,,ANYWAY im getting off track i think-

Uuuh SE is just my love letter ig to just plain weird bullshit scifi, its my biggest, weirdest, longest story to date and tbh iiii have honestly struggled to summarize this as i have vv’ but rn the brain rot has been insistent forrrr almost 11 months now which is UNUSUAL for me. Ive hardly worked on anything else which tells me that SE is something to truly work for in a way :D i hope one day to actually make it into a webcomic so i can finally tell the story abt all these fuck ups :3

but uuuuh i hope that catches u up to speed somewhat :o but if not i always love answering questions and will try my best to answer any u might have :D

#kudzu responds #shattered earth #se issss waaaay too big for me to properly like. hm #infodump abt ig #theres so much going on..

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rubbarband · 5 months

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Villain Des & Storm kid

If they had a kid meme

@walkerofclouds

(Someone's been reading the rp XD)

send me a pair name and I’ll tell you what I think it would be like if they had a child.

Name: Michonne Baker

Gender: Female

General Appearance: Beautiful woman that turns heads, she is captivating, has her father's sharp feline eyes and her mothers, face, she has long black hair that is tipped white, as she gets older it progressively gets more white till it's stark one day. She has a curvy body and is 7'11 in her normal high and 8 feet in heels.

Personality: She is CONFIDENT, she comes from a powerful goddess and a crafty and no nonsense prior villain set straight. She's got a power system that's makes her the envy of many hero teams. She has two powers, a quirk and a mutant power that made her proud and sassy. Her family however has made her the type to second guess things alot- even if it's a good idea. Growing up her dad would tell her to do a crime to show her enemies she means boss! And Ororo would take her to the side and have to correct her, leaving her to just trust her own gut at that point. She's a crafty planner and knows she's powerful thus leading to decisive fights in which she lobs plenty of insults that are justified.

Mutant power: She has the same powers her mother did.

Quirk: Clay mimicry: She similar to her father can turn her body into clay but is weak to extreme cold and heat, she can shape-shift and increase her size as well- that tied with her elemental powers makes her one of the strongest of her generation.

Special Talents: Unlike her parents, she's very tech savvy and can hack anything, she made an AI to help her in battle, and let her hands off hack without a computer infront of her- her intellect rivals Riri Williams.

Who they like better: Desmond cause she thinks he's fun and wild, Desmond also lets her get away with more things.

Who they take after more: Storm, Smart, beautiful, witty- enough said.

Personal Head canon: At some point she leads the X-men in her young age, then when older moves on to leading the avengers. Even teaming up with her parents. There are talks of Wakanda also wanting her to be an advisor role and help build up the Avengers- African branch.

Face Claim: Nico Robin (Black edit)

#Anonymous #walkerofclouds #thanks for the ask!#ask memes answered #jan ask 024 #Villain Des #]If they had a kid...[

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isa-belle1367 · 1 month

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Little assassins creed one-shot because I love my blorbs

I paced around the temple. Rebecca had demanded I take a break because I had been in the animus for the past 3 days with only small bathroom and water breaks.

I wasn't used to being so stationary. Normally, when I leave the animus, it's to go track down another battery. But now I had an hour of free time with nothing to do.

I ran my hands through my hair as I continued pacing. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was never good at sitting still in the first place, but after spending so much time jumping from building to building as my ancestors, sitting still was impossible.

I flicked on my eagle vision, a nervous habit. The temple became basked in a gray light with Bill, Shaun, and Rebecca showing up as blue. I blinked it away with a sigh.

"How much time is left?" I asked, turning to Rebecca.

"1 hour." She stated.

I groaned, I wasn't allowed to leave the temple, so I had nothing to do.

I decided to do some maintenance on my weapons. Altair was always strict about keeping his knives sharp, and of course, I picked it up.

I pressed my earpiece. "Anyone have anything for sharpening knives?"

"On my desk." Bill stated.

"Thanks." I said while grabbing the block of stone off his desk. He had a normal sharpener, but I felt more comfortable the old-fashioned way.

I sat down at my desk and removed the blade from my hidden blade. I began to sharpen the knife. The repetitive motion put me into a trance as I got lost in thought.

Less than a month ago, I would have never dreamed I would be sitting in an Isu temple sharpening a hidden blade. I hadn't exactly been too enthusiastic about the assassins.

My life had changed so fast. I went from a nobody working at a bar to saving the world. Most days, I could barely remember my life from the bar. I got the general idea, but all of the little details became fuzzy. Covered up by my ancestors' memories.

Even if I did survive this, I doubted I could go back to my old life. I wondered if any of my old coworkers wondered where I was. I did kind of disappear into thin air.

I doubted they were looking for me. They probably forgot me already.

I sighed, picking up my knife. I tapped my finger against the blade. The blade cut into my skin with barely any pressure, perfect.

I put the knife back into the hidden blade and strapped it back to my wrist.

I looked at my laptop. I still had 30 minutes left.

I grabbed my gun from its holster. I began to unload it.

As I was pulling out the ammo, I paused. I looked at my hidden blade, then back at the gun. I remember how easy it was to have a gun attached to Ezio's hidden blade.

I decided that having that could come in handy. I remembered how Leo had done it.

I pulled my blade off and started the modifications. Before I knew it, I had screws, small metal pieces, and god knows what else scattered around my desk.

I was almost done when Rebecca walked over. Her eyes widened when she saw what I was doing.

"What is that?" She questioned.

I finished twisting in the last screw. "I made a few modifications." I grinned.

I quickly put in the ammo before strapping the blade to my wrist. I still had scrap metal all over my desk, but I didn't care, I could clean it later.

I smiled at my creation. "I'm gonna give it a test run. Wanna come with?" I asked.

She looked at me skeptically. "Sure."

"Alright, c'mon." I said while practicing dragging her outside.

Behind me, I could hear her talking into the earpiece. "Desmond made something, so I'm gonna make sure he doesn't blow up the forest."

Once we were outside, I made a bee line for a nearby tree. I took a few steps back and aimed my wrist at the tree.

I had done this hundreds of times in the animus. This felt natural.

I took a deep breath before pressing the trigger.

The bullet flew through the air and hit the tree right where I was aiming. But that's not what excited me.

See, a few days ago, I had a bleed of haythem using a rifle, but it made no sound. He was using it with some Welsh guy, Shay, I think.

Well, I managed to do some digging and found out how he managed to silence the rifle, and then I applied that to my wrist gun.

I turned to Rebecca with a huge grin on my face. She looked shocked. "How did you do that?" She asked.

"I got bored." I smiled.

I turned my attention to my blade. These new improvements would make grabbing batteries so much easier.

I decided to go tell the others. "Let's head back." I said while starting towards the cave.

I ran inside. While on my way in, I pressed my earpiece. "You guys won't believe what I made!"

"What is it?" Shaun asked.

"I added a gun to my hidden blade and a silencer."

Rebecca chimed in. "The gun is completely silent, I didn't even hear it."

I got inside the temple and walked over to my desk. Bill spoke into the earpiece. "Hm, that could prove useful. I would like to take a look at it."

I set the blade down on my desk. "You can look at it now, I'm gonna head back to connor."

I walked over to the animus. I wondered if I would find any other cool weapons to recreate today.

(Spoiler, he found out about rope darts and was obsessed.)

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #oneshot #writing #silly desmond #desmond #connor kenway

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teecupangel · 8 months

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so i have this idea in a Desmond lives au after the solar flare he starts a channel like tasting history with max miller in which he recreates historical dishes that his ancestors used to make with Shaun and Rebecca appearing by tasting what he makes

(The video starts with a man addressing the video in a beautiful clean kitchen)

“So this isn’t my usual content but I’ve got a lot of requests to do a reaction video on this youtube channel called ‘I Am Not My Ancestors’ where he recreates recipes he got from his ancestors. At least, that’s what he claims. A lot of you asked me to check if his recipes are what a household from that time period would make and I asked Desmond, he’s the owner of I’m Not My Ancestor channel if he’s alright with me reacting to them and I received his permission.”

“I’d like to make it clear that he has no hand in any of my reactions. This will be the first time I’m watching the videos I’d be reacting to and there’s no script, we didn’t talk about what I should say or what I shouldn’t say. I can even show you guys his actual reply to my email.”

(The video cuts to some kind of recorder, most probably a phone camera, aimed at the screen of a monitor showing an opened email)

Subject: Re: Requesting permissions to react to your videos

Sender: Desmond M [email protected]

yeah go ahead man.

(The video returns to the man in the kitchen)

“So with his permission… let’s check out some of his videos, shall we?”

(The video changed. On the lower left corner is the same man, now wearing earbuds. The rest of the video appears to be a screen recording of the Youtube Channel ‘I Am Not My Ancestors’. The mouse clicks on the Cooking Playlist and clicks a video titled “What an Assassin from 12th Century That Can’t Cook Cooks”)

(The video changes to a normal looking kitchen with a young man. A prominent scar mars his lips and his eyes seemed to glow gold at certain angles although it looked mostly light brown)

“So… I’ve been focusing on Renaissance Italy food for a while now and I thought I’d branch out and make something my other ancestors made. Then I remembered my ancestor from 12th century Syria doesn’t know how to cook.” The man said as he placed his hands on the counter, “But, well, let’s try it anyway.”

(The video continues with the man listening down all the ingredients he’d be using to make what he calls ‘road food’)

(The video is paused and the man on the lower left begins to speak)

“Okay, so this is one of his latest videos and I just want to talk about all the ingredients he’s using for this… ‘road food’. All of these can be bought in Syria and I’ve seen all of them used in different dishes in historical cook books. The more important part is that all of these? Can be found in the wilds during those time and I believe that he’ll tell us that these ingredients are used because they don’t cost any money, only time and a discerning eye. Let’s see if I’m right.”

(The video plays once more)

“You can also change any of the things I listed to whatever wild plants to find on your way. Normally, if your mission takes you to a place that’s more than a day ride away-”

“By horse.” Someone off camera added.

“Yeah, by horse. Thanks, Becs. Anyway, if it’s more than a day ride away, what you usually do is stay in a nearby bureau- hm? Oh, right. A bureau is what the Assassins call their… mini headquarters in other places. So they have their headquarters in Masyaf, Alamut and Ḥalab and they have bureaus on other places as well.”

(The video paused and the man on the lower left speaks once more)

“While I can’t verify his claims, the Nizaris of which the Assassins are from did have strongholds in Masyaf, Alamut and this Ḥalab is more known as Aleppo to many of us. Anyway, let’s continue.”

(The video is played once more)

“But sometimes, you go to a far away place and the supplies they give you is lacking because Al Mualim is a stingy old man who’ll tell you that ‘an Assassin must triumph over’ this kind of bullshit so you learn to live off eating game and grass-”

(The video is paused and the man on the lower left commented)

“I believe this Al Mualim he speaks of is Rashid al-Din Sinan, known as the Old Man of the Mountain. From the way he speaks, it’s either he knows Rashid himself. Or, of course, he has a journal of his ancestor who has certain words to describe Rashid. I’m sure it’s the latter.”

(The video plays once more)

“So this is what Al-”

“Your ancestor.”

(The man on the lower left tilts his head but does not pause the video)

“My ancestor would make during those ‘tiring’ times.”

(The video continues as the man starts to cook, starting from preparing a small game and then… throwing it and all the other ingredients in a pot. The man on the lower left stared at him with an open mouth.)

“Yeah, that’s it. Just wait until the meat is cooked. While you wait, you should patrol the area, check your map, write on your journal… the usual stuff.”

(The video transitions to the same place but the man is now on his phone, seemingly tapping on the screen.)

“Desmond… isn’t it cooked yet?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I told you guys this is the easiest shit my ancestors can cook. This is also the only thing Alta-”

“Your ancestor.”

“My ancestor can’t fucked up. Anyway, let’s have Shaun try it out.”

(As the man grabs a bowl and pours the soup in it, a man with glasses stepped to the frame with arms crossed)

“Guys, say hello to Shaun, our resident taste tester and the actual historian in our little group.”

“I’ve been tasting everything you make for these videos. They already know who I am.”

“Yeah, yeah, just taste this.”

(The man with glasses took the bowl and blew his spoon before taking a mouthful. He chewed for a moment before nodding.)

“It’s okay.”

“You're British, of course you think the lack of flavor is okay.”

“Hey.”

“Anyway, the main point of this dish is to sustain us. Good food will always be welcomed but what we need is the nutrients and energy food gives us. After we get to the bureau, we’ll have some actual good food.”

(The video pauses and changes to only show the man in the beautiful kitchen)

“Okay, so let’s talk about the recipe itself…”

(The video continues as the man list down all the ingredients and where they have appeared in historical books, referencing other recipes similar to the recipe that the video used)

“I think I should watch more videos, maybe one of his Renaissance Italy videos because it seems like this ancestor of his is quite… the ‘frugal’ and practical kind. Let me know in the comments which videos you’d like me to watch nex-

(The video stops and the laptop closes)

“Desmond, he called Altaïr frugal and practical.”

“Not because he wanted to. What do you think he did when he was traveling with Maria? That man tried out every food he saw.”

(is this in the same universe as #Da Vinci's secret lover Not-Salai? Maybe? Maybe not? idk)

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #i sorta bully altaïr #maaayybbeee #i guess i could tag him #since it's his 'recipe'#altaïr ibn la'ahad #i feel weird tagging max miller so i won’t XD

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goodcryunicorn · 2 years

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007 || Q

Name: Major Boothroyd Age: 32 - 64 Relationship: single (verse depending) open for ships Sexuality: homosexual Job: Quartermaster Faceclaims: Desmond Llewelyn; John Cleese; Ben Whishaw Blog written by: @goodcryunicorn3

Major Boothroyd (also known by the initial "Q") was the quartermaster of the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS/MI6). Q (standing for Quartermaster), like M, is a job title rather than a name. He is the head of Q Branch, the research and development division of the British Secret Service. He explains how the case functions and notes its hidden features, such as a throwing-knife, anti-tampering mechanism with a magnetised tear-gas cartridge (disguised as a tin of talcum powder), and fifty gold sovereigns concealed in the lining of the case. Also included was an Armalite AR-7 folding sniper-rifle with an infrared scope and .25 ACP ammunition. Notably, real-life AR-7s fire a .22 Long Rifle cartridge. It is quite possible that Q has modified a normal Armalite AR-7 to accept .25 ACP cartridges. Q replaces 007's Bentley 3½ Litre with an Aston Martin DB5, implying that the vehicle had been provided by Q Branch, rather than being Bond's personal vehicle. The DB5 was equipped with bullet-proof windows, revolving number plates, smoke screen projector, oil slick dispensers and twin Browning machine guns; all operated via a set of trigger switches hidden under the arm rest. Notably, he also reveals the vehicle's most fantastical feature - a passenger ejector seat, triggered by a switch concealed in the gear-stick. Bond is incredulous, remarking that the quartermaster must be joking. With complete seriousness, Q famously replies "I never joke about my work, 007." Dressed in an outlandish blue Hawaiian shirt with pineapples Q makes his first appearance in the field, travelling to the Bahamas to personally outfit Bond with his equipment. Bond can be heard muttering "Oh no!" when he meets Q. Q then demonstrates a modified Breitling Top Time wristwatch and an underwater camera (both containing built-in Geiger counters), an underwater propulsion unit (with harpoon-launcher), a compact flare pistol, a radioactive homing pill (designed to be ingested), and a miniature rebreather which provides Bond with four extra minutes of air whilst diving. Q makes his second appearance in the field to supervise assembly of the Little Nellie auto-gyro. Frustrated with 007's remarks, the quartermaster retorts that his journey to Japan has been long and tiring, probably pointlessly so, and consequently he is not in the mood for the spy's quips. He implies that Bond has used the auto-gyro before and notes that Q Branch have made some improvements in the interim. Judging from Q's briefing and Bond's reactions, the aircraft's weapon systems appear to have been the subject of the changes; with machine guns, flamethrowers, aerial mines, rockets and heat-seeking missiles equipped for 007's reconnaissance of SPECTRE's launch site. Q attempts to pitch to M the idea of improving the Secret Service's obsolete equipment via miniaturisation. As an example, he presents radioactive lint, which he notes could be utilised for antipersonnel and tracking purposes. M, however, is more distracted by 007's lack of progress on Operation Bedlam and wants to know his present location. Q is seen in attendance at James and Tracy's wedding. He congratulates him and confesses that he had thought him rather irresponsible in the past, but on this occasion he has no reason to complain. Giving him a friendly pat on the back, Q notes that while they haven't always seen eye-to-eye, he offers his assistance if Bond ever needs anything. As the married couple depart, Q walks over to the teary Moneypenny and dusts off the hat which Bond had thrown her in a parting gesture, noting that he "never had any respect for government property." Q also appeared in For Your Eyes Only, where an assistant named Smithers tests an arm cast battering ram when Bond comes in, wanting to identify a man who payed Melina Havelock's parent's killer and when 007 observes an umbrella that can bring out stings when wet, Bond jokingly asks "Stinging in the rain?" Which Q doesn't find funny. Bond was also amazed at how Q Branch managed to get Bond a new Lotus after the old one was destroyed. They head into the identification room and Q was annoyed when 007 pressed a few buttons on the code after finding it catchy. During the identifying, Q makes the nose look bigger making Bond say "A nose, not a banana, Q" which Q apologises and also accidentally makes the lips too small. Q, disguised as a reverend surprises Bond by removing his fake beard and informs him where Kristatos might be. After Milos Columbo killed Kristatos, Q managed to contact Bond, who was about to go skinny dipping with Melina, via his watch and connected him to the Prime Minister, but Bond left the watch on Melina's pet parrot's perch and the parrot insulted the Prime Minister. Thinking Bond went mad, they try to contact him but the parrot throws the watch in the ocean. Moneypenny asks Q to go to Isthmus, under the pretense of being on leave and assist James who went rogue after being fired from MI6. He went to 007's hotel, posing as James' uncle. When James and former pilot Pam Bouvier, posing as Ms. Kennedy, came back from Franz Sanchez' casino and going in the hotel elevator, Pam gives James one of her Beretta 950 Jetfires and when James rings the doorbell, Q prepares to open it and Bond barges in and pushes Q into a chair and as Q gets up and explains his reasons, Q shows James some plastic explosive and when the door opens, Pam comes in waving another gun and James introduces her to Q as his cousin and Q kisses her on the cheek. He soon shows them a signature gun, disguised as a camera that can only take Bond's palm print and Pam soon gets out a camera and Q tries to warn her not to "use the flash!", but it was too late and a laser appears and hits a picture and Q soon grabs it from her and scowls her for fiddling with the camera. James comes down to Q Branch to see Q in a wheelchair with a cast on his left leg and asks if it was skiing but Q soon fires a rocket from the cast into a wall and grins as he replies "Hunting." He shows James a BMW Z3 and after Bond joked about the Stinger missiles, Q reminded him that he has "a licence to kill, not to break the traffic laws." He also shows 007 a leather belt that has a rappelling cord designed only to support Bond's weight. During the belt gadget talk, Bond played with a laptop and soon closes it as Q asked if he was finished and they soon see a tech getting squished in an airbag payphone booth.

VERSES

#fandom // 007 #007 // Q #faceclaim // Desmond Llewelyn #faceclaim // John Cleese #faceclaim // Ben Whishaw #sexuality // Homosexual #goodcryunicorn3

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esamastation · 2 years

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Sugar daddy Desmond sneak preview.

January 5th, 1500, Rome, originally recorded in audio, later transcribed in writing.

So, uh. I. Have no idea what to say. Fuck. How do I even - where the hell do I even begin. With the phone maybe? Like that even - fuck, with my luck this thing will break down in a week, and then whatever I even say won't matter. I shouldn't even keep this thing, right? It's a risk to the time continuum of something. Herein lies the paradox. But.

Fuck. I'm so fucked, hehe - heh. Fuck.

So. So. I've travelled back in time!

Not exactly what I was expecting. Only maybe I sort of - it's kind of - it's weird. I've spent so much time in the Animus, living through history, travelling back in time in memory, that this, that in some part of my mind where habits are born I've gotten used to this. Like, I've gone through something so similar to this so many times that it's - it's not even a shock anymore. Like, I know this is a big fucking deal - I'm back in time. But in that part of my brain where, uh, where humans build routines, you know? It's just like, like whatever. Animus, time travel, it looks the same on the surface, to my grey matter. So I'm like… comfortable? At home. At ease. As far as my Animus-ingrained instincts go, this is normal. And on the inside my common sense is throwing a fit. It's a weird feeling.

And that's - that's completely beside the point, right. I should, uh, start from the beginning.

I activated the Grand Temple - something I probably need to explain later, seeing as this is… kinda the first record of it in human memory, probably? Later, I'll do that later. Anyway, I activated the Grand Temple, and I honestly expected to die. Juno kind of made I seem like that was what was going to happen, and Minerva didn't exactly reassure me there either. I was - I wouldn't say fine with it, but it was - it was what it was. It was what had to happen, so I was… okay with it.

I can't really explain what it was like. It hurt, but like - like - I don't know. Fuck. It was like a painful stretch or like the itching of a healing frostbite. Like my nerves couldn't categorise the sensation properly, so they just fired raw white noise sensation at me. Buzzing itchy pain, all over, but also… not. All pain really is, is your nerves sending alarm signals, right? I think mine just got confused. There's no basis of experience for what happened to me.

If I had to guess, I… I think I got disintegrated. Demolecularized. Like fucking Star Trek teleportation beam - I was broken apart into atoms.I don't know if I was transported or - copied. Something happened.

Rebecca once went into this rant about teleporters in science fiction, about how they're material shredders and copiers - how people who use them are probably instantly destroyed, broken apart into materials, and then remade again, and probably not even from the same materials. That what actually moves between teleporters is building instructions, and people being beamed up are just rebuild on site after their horrible, silent murder at the hands of the teleportation beam. It was kinda gruesome, the way she put it.

This… will make absolutely no sense to anyone for about four hundred and fifty years, haha - hahaha - ha…

I think I maybe did die in the Grand Temple. And Minerva's Vault here, in Rome - the one under the Vatican, it… printed a copy of me. A perfect, exact copy, with all the information intact. Even had my backpack and phone and everything.

Only it's, uh, five hundred and twelve years early.

Which, uh. Well, we already knew that the Precursors, or at least Minerva, saw time differently. The lady could have dialogue with people tens of thousands of years after her time, so she had some means of getting data from the future and interacting with it in a way that affects the future. So, that, um. That's something.

What's five hundred to a woman that's been dead for seventy five thousand years? Barely a blink of an eye. So, she takes info from a later moment, and brings it back, like - like moving bits in a chain. One later domino moved slightly earlier to change how the chips would fall. Because it will affect how the chips will fall. I've already killed like two people who probably weren't supposed to die just yet, so…

Fuck.

It's terrifying that they have this power. Dead for seventy five thousand years, and they can just shuffle things around. How many things have they changed - how many times have they done this? The history I know, how much of it's - is - is real and untampered and how much of it's by their design? And -

I -

Ho boy, okay. Right. Uh.

So. I'm in Rome, circa fifteen hundred. Ezio's come and gone from the Vault and if I have my timelines right, Monteriggioni has already been raised to the ground. Rodrigo Borgia is the Pope, Rome is in grips of a tumultuous, Templar engineered poverty, and, uh. What else? Ezio isn't back yet, but he will be here soon, I think. Machiavelli is here already, though, I can, sort of, feel him. Very historically important dude. Not as much as Leonardo, though. I can feel him too, stuck behind Templar lines, serving the enemy, so to say.

And I - I need to figure this out. And there won't be any guidance from on Long Ago - Minerva's temple is dead now. I think bringing me, or making me, or whatever she did, it drained the Vault's batteries. It's completely dead now, out like a light. Just like this phone will be, very soon. I'll probably write this all down later - preserve it for future Assassin generations and whatnot. Right now…

Right now, I'm.

Fuck.

I'm going to go pickpocket someone, buy some wine and get drunk, maybe. I'll figure out what to do, after I've had the chance to - to turn my brain off and on again. I think I've deserved it.

Yeah.

Yup. Gonna try writing at least few chapters before posting, but here's like 1/3 of first chap. It's not going to all be in epistolary but it will be peppered with letters and journal entries and wanted posters probably. We'll see how it goes.

Feel free to suggest story titles. Also Desmond's is going to need an alter ego, so if anyone knows Italian names starting with De or Des, I'd love to hear them. So far the only one I got is Desiderio.

#Fanfiction #Ac #Assassin's creed #Desmond miles #Epistolary #Sneak peek

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desmond-byrne · 2 years

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Where: Just outside of Rock-N-Roar Radio Station When: Early evening, after sunset Who: Open

Desmond had just finished up his show for the evening and was leaving the radio station. It was a nice night, a little brisk but the smell of spring was in the air and soon the weather would turn warmer. The seasons never really affected Desmond much, but there was something about spring that pleased him. Perhaps it reminded him of his long ago human days a little when he’d been outdoors so much more or he just found the new life budding around him pleasant. Whatever the reason, he was in a relatively good mood as he decided to stroll around the town. He might head out to the lake or just walk around, not using vampiric speed, just walking at a normal pace. He didn’t need the exercise but he liked it and often took these early evening walks before heading to Stoker or to visit someone or even back home to play some of his instruments or read.

He hadn’t gotten very far from the building when he sensed and noticed a group of three young men approaching him. They smelled strongly of alcohol, even though it seemed early for that, and Desmond almost glanced at his watch but refrained. He would’ve just ignored them as they drew closer but they clearly had other ideas.

“Hey, you. Yer one o’ them bloodsuckers.” There was a sneer on the man’s face and an ugly look in his eyes. Desmond raised an eyebrow. He’d made no secret, since vampires had come out to the world, that he was one but Wolford so far had been generally accepting or maybe he’d just been lucky and managed to avoid those who weren’t.

“Indeed. Your tone suggests you have a problem with that.”

Another one spat tobacco juice from between his teeth which Desmond found distasteful but he kept his expression impassive. “Don’t be actin’ all high and mighty with us. You don’t belong here.” They made it quite obvious that they had weapons but if they’d done any research at all they should’ve known bullets would have little effect on him. Desmond suspected they hadn’t.

He clasped his hands loosely behind his back. “Why should I belong any less than you do?”

The line of questioning seemed to confuse and irritate them and they exchanged angry glances. “You’re a freak! You eat people!”

Desmond snorted. “You need to do more research.”

That tipped them over and two actually drew their weapons and pointed their guns at him while the third tried to shove him and seemed somewhat baffled when Desmond didn’t budge when pushed. He sighed. The night was clearly going to be less pleasant than it had started out.

#wolfordstarter #open #absolutely no need to match length #i got carried away setting it up

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kadhis-stuff · 3 years

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You can’t keep a secret forever

Summary: How is a woman supposed to tell her husband, who has been married to her for almost 7 years now, that she can read minds? That she has been able to since the first moment they met?

This is a gift for @nonokoko13! (AO3 link). I hope you enjoy it! Here’s my little contribution to the Damianya part of the fandom :)

Anya’s unstoppable right foot shook so hard that the dining table moved to her tune, causing a metallic sound from the table legs hitting the floor. Her hands joined forming a fist that was holding her chin. She was staring at the ceiling of her house, looking for some inspiration on what to do. As if the ceiling tiles were an almighty god with all the answers willing to share with mere mortals.

Anya was concerned. A concerned 26-year-old woman. A concern police officer in these peaceful times. She never told anyone about this. Not even her parents. It was an intrinsic part of herself. It grew to be normal on her. Part of what defines what Anya Forger-Desmond is.

How is a woman supposed to tell her husband, who has been married to her for almost 7 years now, that she can read minds? That she has been able to since the first moment they met?

What people has always said about her is that she is a very perceptive person. And as the years went by, she got better at hiding it. No one has been able to hide a secret from her for long. And that is something that, today, was making Damian miserable.

Damian decided that this year was going to be the year. He will blow her mind with the most astonishing surprise ever. He will prove to her that he still has it, after all these years of marriage. For her to remember the feeling of being on the lookout and not knowing what to expect. The knowledge of something coming her way without a clue of what might that be.

Two things were wrong with Damian’s assumptions. First, he has never, ever, surprised her. Not on purpose at least, not by planning something out. He shouldn’t need to prove that he still has anything in that regard. And secondly, she doesn’t know how it feels to be non-puzzled because people usually think about the surprises while they are being planned or revealed. She hasn’t figure it out a way to put a spoiler alert tag on people, so she just deals with it.

Why was Damian getting so frustrated about this lately?

The worst part is that his poker face is too good. There are times in which she knows what Damian is truly thinking just because she can read his mind. Instead, she is an open book.

Faking surprise? Yeah, that has never worked out for her before.

After faking a face, she is always hit by the thoughts “Oh, she saw it coming” “She knew about it” “Surely Becky told her” “Surely Damian told her” “Am I this bad at lying?”

His husband was feeling insecure and he did not tell her, she knows it because she is able to read. His. Mind.

What to do? What to do?

She growled at the ceiling tiles.

She truly thought she was going to be able to take this secret to her tomb. She never told Mama and Papa, and the only one that -probably- knew it, was Bond.

She took a sip of the hot chocolate she prepared to help herself think. Why did she decide to keep it a secret from them all these years?

Right. That night. When she was just an 8-year-old.

~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V

She had the popcorn’s bowl in her lap. Mama was on her right, watching the movie. Papa was on her left, reading a book. Bond was lying in front of her, eyes closed, unfazed by the fighting sounds coming from the TV. It was the latest Spy Wars movie. One of the bad guys had the ability to read minds with a machine.

Loid and Yor already knew about each other secret lives and after a bit dramatic fight, they accepted each other identities and decided to live together after all. Which made possible for Anya to live a real life with them. And she was pondering the possibility to tell them. To also come clean of secrets. For them to be the first people in her life to know. So, she gathered courage, her hands forming fists and asked with the most casual tone she could gathered “Isn’t that cool?”

“What, Anya?” Asked Yor cocking her head with closed eyes and her always gentle smile, who was paying attention to the movie.

“Being able to read minds”. No, she cannot do it. Oh shit, she was already doing it. Panic. She ate a handful of popcorn at once. Swallowed it quickly to continue. “What do you think about that?”

Loid was the first to reply, in his detached matter-of-fact way of speaking, so serious and yet so smooth “Well, even if it is certainly an advantage it might be dangerous. It seems that the machine could blow out at any minute now”

Not the answer she was hoping. Anya wanted to divert the attention from the movie. Was Papa even paying attention to it? He was supposed to be reading. “But think about it in real life” she took her mother’s hand. She wanted to ask ‘what if I was the one reading minds’ but she was too scared to hear the answer, so she said the next thing she thought about. “What if mama were able to read our minds all the time?”

“M-Me?” A soft pink colored her cheeks, and she gave it a thought. “It could be a little tiring I guess, not being able to focus on my own mind because everybody is thinking around me”

That was an accurate way to describe it. Although Anya was getting better at handling it.

“It will probably be weird for the people around her.” Her father got her attention in a second, now we were talking. “I wouldn’t be able to look Yor in the eyes the same way again.”

“Why?” And her voice was probably a pitch higher than before.

“If a person can read your mind, they will know you better than anyone else. They will know what you think even if it is not what you chose to say, so they will not only know the person you want to be or the one you are trying to become, but they will know the true you. And that is something terrifying somehow. Not all people will be able to handle that.”

“Will you get away from mama if she was able to read minds?”

“No, I don’t have secrets from Mama anyway”

But Anya could read minds. And she knew what Loid’s real answer was. She still tried one more time.

“And you Mama, will you stay with Papa even if he was able to read your mind?”

“Of course, sweetheart”

But the devasting truth was that both were terrified of the idea. And although they didn’t directly think “yes, I will leave”, they both imagined multiple situations in which they would rather die from shame than letting the counterpart know their deepest secrets.

“I see” was all that Anya was able to say, while shrinking more into the couch.

“Why are you making that face Anya?” Yor asked, hugging her shoulders with one hand. “Nobody is able to read minds, so you don’t need to worry about it”.

But she did worry about it. Because at the short age of eight, she swore to herself to never reveal her deepest secret to anyone. It was something bad. It was something to be ashamed of. Anya would rather die than letting anybody know about it and let them treat her differently because of it.

~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V

But here she was. Pondering her options. Because maybe the truth was what Damian needed right now. Maybe he could be the first. Maybe she could trust him to not destroy her feelings with utter rejection.

Two weeks ago, Becky invited her for lunch and, as usual, she was telling her about the latest sweetheart she was dating. The conversation ended up shifting to Damian and Anya’s long-term relationship. This year they were going to celebrate the 7 years anniversary.

“There’s a saying, you know?” said Becky casually, taking the dessert spoon when the waiter brought her ‘Golden Opulence’ sundae. “If a marriage remains together after seven years, they will be together forever.”

“Non-sense, there wouldn’t be divorces after 10 years then.”

“I mean it, Anya. It’s called The Seven Year Itch”

Anya rolled her eyes and started to eat her own dessert. “And what’s supposed to happen on the 7th year?”

“Monotony. Love ends. People get bored. They feel like the compatibility is no longer there. That the other person just ‘don’t get it’ anymore.”

The last part caught Anya’s attention. Why was that ringing a bell on her head?

And then she remembered all the times along the year that Damian tried to do different things for her, which all ended up in a frustrated husband.

Could Damian fear they were not compatible anymore?

Anya face twisted like an open book to Becky.

“How is it going with Damian, Anya?” She had concern in her eyes. And Anya knew it was real concern. Becky took her hand over the table “Everything ok at home?”

“Yeah,” she tried to dismiss it with a smile “everything is fine”

But hey, she was friends with Becky for over 20 years now. And Anya did not really know how to lie to save her life.

Becky insisted.

“Okay, well, there might be something” twirling her fingers in rounds, looking to the ground pouting, Anya mumbled indescribable words to Becky before finally saying it: “I think Damian is a bit concern about the fact that he can’t surprise me”

“Nobody can surprise you. You are too good at reading people. And a terrible liar.”

“And he has known about it for years now!” Yes Becky, agree with her. It was not her fault. It was not her fault. “It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right?”

“Then why do you think he is concerned about that?” Becky was confused.

Because she knew.

A couple days back, Damian got up earlier to cook her favorite breakfast and took it to her bed. But Anya knew that it was going to happen before hand because he bought and hid the ingredients the day before, so she did her best sleepy surprised expression and started to eat.

Damian’s thoughts were loud in his head “Loser. I cannot even surprise her when she is half asleep. Nothing works”

But he did not tell her that, instead, he kissed her forehead and walk out of the room with the excuse of meeting his brother early that day. Lie. He just wanted to be out of there. Away from her.

Anya replied: “He told me he feels bad because he can’t surprise me, I just want him to know that it is not his fault”

“Well, there’s a limit on how perceptive a person can be. I had surprise you before. It’s hard, yes, but possible. It might be kind of his fault” Actually, Becky surprised her on a moonless night.

“It is not” Anya hit her head into the table with a defeated expression on her face “I need him to understand that”.

She can only get surprised on moonless days. But how to explain it without telling the truth?

And here she was.

Thinking.

Considering.

Pondering.

Did it worth the risk?

She was so deeply scared about how hard she wanted to tell him. How hard she wanted to trust him. To believe he will love her no matter what. She has known Damian since he was 6 years old. She knows how good or bad he can be. The deepest secrets of his heart. What makes him happy even if he has never openly said so. There is no human being that she knows better than him.

Damian was certainly going to panic.

But will he overcome it? Accept it?

She was so scared that she picked today, a moonless day, to do so. She wasn’t strong enough to hear the rejection coming from him. Her heart wouldn’t handle it. No matter if he later thinks twice about it and accept it. She couldn’t stand the idea of hearing him fear her.

She heard the doorknob opening and her mind went blank, her back ran cold and her hands got sweaty. Was it right? Would it help him to know? Would it make it worst? She doesn’t know.

“I’m home”

He immediately noticed the distressed on his wife. “Is everything alright?”

“No” elbows on the table, she just holds her forehead with her fists. Eyes closed “Can you please take a sit? We need to talk”.

Damian did as requested, showing a hint of concern in his face.

Although a part of Anya appreciated the silence for her to gather her thoughts in order, the other part wanted to peek into Damian’s head and see what he was thinking.

“I know you have been mad a lot lately”.

She looked at him right in the eyes. It seemed to take him aback.

“Me? Mad? About what?” He deviated his gaze quickly, as if looking for a better answer. He was also a terrible liar, somehow.

“About the fact that you can’t surprise me”

Damian’s eyes turned sad, avoiding her gaze he just stared at the table. “Am I that much of an open book to you?”

“No- Yes. Err, something like that”

Still avoiding her gaze, he moved his eyes to the window next to them. “I’m sorry for not being able to do the same for you”

She took his hand over the table; he was still refusing to look at her.

“Damian, please look at me”

She squeezed his hand. He finally did.

“There’s something important I need to tell you. It might sound crazy, but it is the truth. And I’m terrified of telling you. Nobody” and she repeated the word with all the emphasis she could gathered in her voice “Nobody, knows about this. It is my most guarded secret and I swore to myself that I will take it to my tomb”

That got Damian’s attention. Momentarily forgetting how shitty of a husband he was feeling lately.

“I love you, Damian. And I trust you” she was scared. So scared that Damian’s hand was wet with her sweat now. “And I will tell you”

This is it. She will say it. Her heart was beating faster than ever. She was going to reveal her deepest secret.

“The reason why neither you nor anyone can’t surprise me is because…”

Silence. She bits her lip. She cannot face him. She stops to stare at his eyes and lowers her gaze.

“Because…”

Damian squeezes her hand softly this time, encouraging her to talk.

She sighs. Shuts her eyes harder. Takes a big breath and hold it for a couple seconds, until finally releasing it, talking as fast as she could “BecauseICanReadMinds”

Damian asks her to repeat herself, slowly this time.

“Because I can… read minds”

Of course, Damian doesn’t believe it. He drops her hand and stand up from the table. So much mystery and expectation for a joke. He was truly feeling bad about it and Anya wanted to do one of the weird jokes in an honestly bad time.

Damian was feeling insecure. He heard about the Seven Year Itch at work early that year. And he realized that without space for doubts Anya was the person that knew the most about him. But did he know about her the same way? Did he pay enough attention? And what about the relationship? Was he getting monotonous? Will Anya look for other men that can provide her the excitement she so dearly appreciates in her life? How much can she stand his own inaptitude?

So yeah, Damian is pretty pissed off. He gives her his back and walks towards the bedroom for some cooling off time.

“I’m telling the truth!” he hears her say.

He stops on his track and looks at her sideways. “Yeah? What am I thinking right now?”

She feels like stabbed. She didn’t think he was going to assume it was a lie. She was worried about a bunch of other scenarios. “I don’t know! It doesn’t work on days without moon!”

“How convenient. Should I assume today is a New Moon day?”

Damian was already reaching the shared bedroom when Anya took his hand to stop him. Once he entered the room, he was going to shut the door and keep her out for a couple hours until to cool down. He always did it when he was truly pissed off. She knows it and doesn’t want to let him do it. Because once he cools off, she could get cold feet and now that she has resolved to tell him, she did not want to brush it off as a joke or something like that.

“Damian, look at my eyes”

He ignored her.

She took his head with one hand and made him face her. “Look at me”

He finally did.

“I’m telling you the truth. I am adopted. People did things to me when I was a kid, in a lab. I can read minds since I am 3 years old. I had read your mind since the first time I met you. Every day. Except on days when there’s no moon in the sky”

And Damian does know something about his wife. She cannot lie to him to save his life. That is why even if she has tried to act surprised for years, he has always known when she was faking it. He thought it was because she pitied him. He was bad at surprises, and because he couldn’t properly catch her off guard, she fakes it. What Anya was just saying…? Could it be true?

“Why are you telling me this on the day you can’t prove it?”

“Because I’m terrified on what you might be thinking about me.” After saying that, she broke the eye contact with him “I do not want to hear your rejection.” She lets his hand loose “I might still hear it tomorrow, because you can’t trick your own thoughts. I will know the truth. But I couldn’t do it today.”

Damian knows with certainty; he does love his wife. He has loved her for many years now and undoubted he will do it for many years to come. He could not stand watching her like this. It broke his heart. He holds her in a tight hug.

The moment he hugged her Anya started to cry. He spoke softly into her ear “What you are telling me right now is so nonsensical, absurd. Crazy. But I want you to know that no matter what, I love you. And I won’t reject you even if you were an alien from another planet”

Her shuddering sobs started to calm down “Even if I came from Pluto? It is not a planet.”

“Even then, Anya”

She holds him tight “I am sorry”

“About what”

“Being unable to fake my surprise face and making you sad about it”

He removed a tear from her cheek before placing a small kiss on her lips “I preferred it that way. That makes me enjoy more when I see you genuinely surprised. Maybe that’s why I try so hard.”

They stood there for a while, in a comfortable silent hug.

“So how does it work?” He asked.

“Well, I can hear what you think in front of me. If I concentrate enough, I can hear a specific person several feet away”

“Can you know something about a person that is not actively thinking it in that moment?”

“Like look into a person’s memories?”

“Yeah”

“No, I can’t. Just what they are thinking at that time.”

“I see”

Silence again.

Damian broke it, again. Flustered this time “So you have been able to read my mind all this time?”

“Yes”

“W-were you able to read it when I was thinking of kissing you for the first time?”

“Every time until you finally did it” She laughs.

Damian was full red-faced at this point “Did you also read it on Becky’s 18th birthday party?”

Anya’s cheeks dyed pink at the memory “Y-Yeah”

This time Damian covered his face with both of his hands. “Did you read it on our wedding?”

“No” That got him out of the ashamed-zone for a second.

“Why?”

“I ensure it was on a moonless day. I didn’t want to get myself overwhelmed by all the guest’s thoughts on such special day”

Silence.

“That makes sense”

“Yeah”

More silence.

“So, you can’t read them today even if you try hard?”

“Not a single word”

He nods with his head.

“I think I get it”

“Are you not like… feeling weird?”

“Yes, I am”

“… Would you have preferred for me to not tell you never about this?”

He denied with his head “Thank you for telling me, it must have been hard”

“Not even my parents know”

“Really?”

“Really”

Anya didn’t need to read his head to know that he was feeling pretty cocky about it. It was painted all over his face.

More silence.

Out of the blue, Damian started to laugh. He brushed his hair with his fingers and looked at her with sparkles in his eyes.

“I swear I will surprise you this Christmas”

She laughs.

“And how are you going to do that?”

“Now that I know how you do it, I will train myself from here to December. I will need your help, though”

“I will gladly help”

She smiled.

“I love you”

He smiled.

“I love you too”

She figured it out it was okay to tell him the other secret not even her parents knew. If we are coming clean, we are coming clean about everything.

“You know… I am also two years younger. I lied about my age for my papa to adopt me.”

Damian thought about it for several minutes. Face full red again once he talked.

“Y-You were sixteen on Becky’s party!?”

~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V

After that day back in August, they set up a calendar on the fridge door marking the moonless days. The day after “the talk”, Damian spent all morning having a talk to her. Or more like, keeping his mouth shut while she was keeping the conversation out loud with Damian playing with the fact that he can hold a conversation with her without pronouncing a single word.

It had been fun, somehow, watching Damian adapt to his new life over the months.

He soon realized Anya probably knew about all the people he had wanted to kill at some point. She also knew when he thinks about another woman being pretty. She totally knew when he lied to her about enjoying some new food she cooked. She knew when he was being mean with people in his head without reason.

He sometimes forgets and still lies to her. Then, he gets self-conscious about the fact she already knows the truth and apologize for lying.

He has also caught her off guard and surprised her already a couple times. The trick is to think about literally anything else near her and plan the surprises when she is not close by. A bit more difficult, but definitely more gratifying.

She knew all the good and all the bad that was in his mind, and after seeing everything she still loved him. She has always known, since he was a child, and after all this time she was not only still his friend but accept him as a partner to spend her life with.

How can he ever have doubts about her feelings again? How if she already knew everything about him and accepted him as he is?

Is it fair to be blessed in this life with the sincere and absolute love of a person that truly knows you?

For Anya, the feeling was mutual. The first weeks she cried of happiness almost every day. Damian didn’t leave her. He accepted it. Looked for ways to make it work. Embraced it as a challenge to surpass together. As a team.

~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V~V

On the Christmas day Anya woke up with an alarm’s sound coming from Damian’s side of the bed. She tried to move him to shut it off, but she just found an empty space next to her. A note left in his pillow. She opened her eyes and started to read it with a sleepy face, after shutting the damn thing off.

“Anya,

I’m sorry I was not there to kiss you a good morning today. I needed the alarm so you could eat your breakfast while it was still hot. Please get out of the bed and go to the kitchen. There’s a surprise waiting for you there”

Anya’s smile was big in her face. What? She was enjoying the fact that she had zero clues about this.

She didn’t put shoes on and went out of the bedroom in a second, to the kitchen. The first thing she noticed in the hallway was the strong smell of roses.

The image that welcomed her left her speechless. There were fresh flowers everywhere and in her seat of the dining table there was a full set of plates and another note.

“There is fruit, fresh baked croissants, fried eggs and bacon. Plenty of orange juice and a big peanut can. You can either finish the peanuts after breakfast or carry them with you along the day for a snack. And because I didn’t want you to eat in silence, please go to take the TV remote and turn it on.”

She took a bite of one of the croissants and did as commanded. A video of recaps of their wedding day played with Bryan Adams’ “I do it for you” acoustic version playing in the background. After certain pictures there was a message.

The first photo in the video was one of Anya entering the church. “The moment I saw you step into the hallway, I cried”. The next one, was a photo of Damian crying in his suit. “Because the only thing that was crossing my mind was that I was the luckiest man in the world. You looked like an angel. The most stunning woman was walking in my direction, to declare to myself and the world that she willingly will spend all her life next to me. You continuously make me the best version of myself, Anya”. A third photo: Anya signing the official documents. “Or that’s what I would probably have been thinking if my brain hasn’t done shortcut at that moment”. The next photo that flashes across the screen was one of both exiting the church holding each other hand. “I swear to you I couldn’t think of anything. My mind was a loop of ‘wow’ until the priest started talking and I then I was forced to focus to remember my vows”.

Anya was shaking. A couple tears were rolling down her cheeks. She got pretty emotional watching the video. Several pictures of the party followed without any more messages until the end of the video. She finished the breakfast and took the peanuts can. A message showed up on the TV: “I know the bed is tempting on a Christmas day without responsibilities. But please go and get yourself ready. It is a sunny beautiful day, what about a walk in the park? Make sure to wear comfortable shoes.”

She went back to the bedroom, took a quick shower and got a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and her favorite sneakers. On top of them, another note.

“I knew you would pick these ones. They are old Anya, let me give you new ones with the same color and style. Your refusal is non-negotiable this time around.”

Anya laughed, no. She will keep them until they are torn, and her toes shows at the front. What is a little worn shoe sole and colorless sections? She loves those shoes. He gave them to her a few years back, when she broke a heel in a night outgoing and the only opened store only sold sneakers. The note continuous

“A boy selling newspapers will be waiting for you in the park. He’s wearing a red t-shirt”

So, to the park it is.

It was a sunny day indeed. A lot of people with the day off were having a blast with their families, kids playing with dogs, old people playing chest, fathers and mothers teaching her kids how to use a bicycle for the first time. She wanted to be reunited with her family too.

It was easy to find the boy. He was so nervous that his thoughts were louder than the people around him “Pink haired woman, give it only to a pink haired woman that uses old shoes. Pink haired woman.”

“Hello there, are you the newspaper boy I’m looking for?”

He took a quick glance at her shoes and then cleared his throat looking for a newspaper in his bag. “They told me the job-hunting section was filled with important information, agent Peanut.”

Anya smiled. So that is what this is about. “Thank you, have a good day.”

While she was getting away to search for a free bench to sit on, she heard the thoughts of the boy running in the opposite direction “I need to tell the man I already did it”

She opened the newspaper, there was a pen marking the start of the section the boy mentioned. She read over the lines carefully until she noticed the pattern. The same they used in episode 703 of “Spy Wars”. The secret code was easy to decipher. Each line had two dots marking each one a letter. The letter that was in the middle of the two marked ones was the one she needs to mark in a circle. And reading it from bottom to top, she will get the message.

“Train station. 53. Seat 9A.”

Anya closed the newspaper and run towards the train station. Laughing her heart out. Such a fun morning. What was Damian planning to do?! She opened the peanuts can that brought with her and eat a few “Crazy man.”

She found out the train she was supposed to take was going to the city borders. In the seat 9A there was an envelope. She opened it.

“Agent Peanut, we have captured your husband. We will torture him until he reveals your deepest secrets. Do not even try to come to the old peanut’s abandoned factory outside the city where we have our secret liar. Coordinates: 51.08342, 10.423447”

The envelope also had the ticket for the ride. Anya rolled her eyes. Damian loved to make fun of the fact that the villain always gave its secret liar address to the good guys as if screaming “go and get me if you dare”. It was never this painfully obvious in the show. Except on episode 113, the one about ‘Bad-Man and the pâtissier heist’.

The train was already in movement when she heard a voice. “Ticket, please?”

She stared at the man and could hear his thoughts “Pink hair, green eyes”. “Are you Miss Peanut?”

A light blushed enlighten her face. It was ok for the newspaper boy to say it but having a fellow adult calling her that was a bit shameful “Yes”

The man took a backpack from the compartments above her seat. “This is for you”

The man left after marking her ticket, leaving her alone to explore the inside of the backpack. She covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god”

There were a couple toy guns with 30 bullets each. A belt to hold them. A water bottle, a black t-shirt, cap and sunglasses. There was also another envelope.

“Hey, don’t you dare abandon me.”

A quick sketch of a Damian tied to a chair saying ‘help’ was on the upper right corner of the paper.

Anya bit her lower lip and whispered the answer to herself: “Never”

She was able to change her clothes before reaching the destination. From the station, it was just a 15 minutes’ walk.

Her heart was beating fast. This was exciting. Damian was giving her surprise after surprise and she was loving it. It wasn’t even a moonless day. How come he did not think about this the previous days? He (his mind) usually won’t shut up whenever there’s a big surprise coming. Now that he knows she can read minds; did he take extra precautions? He on purpose force himself to think about everything but this? He was literally thinking about the Christmas lunch and where to go. Planning dinner with her parents. Was it a trick? Or will they go after this? What is it? She took some things for granted today and thought about the surprise being a gift in a box that she’ll open in the family dinner. This was a thousand times better.

She finally reached her destination. A bunch of voices caught her attention.

“Mister Damian is too sweet” Was one of the female voices.

“At least I’m getting paid twice for working on Christmas” another voice.

“I hope Anya doesn’t get hurt” A third one.

“I should have gotten a bigger breakfast this morning” A fourth one.

How much people did Damian had there?

But suddenly, a voice shut out: “Enemy on sight, enemy on sight!”

An alarm started to ring, and Anya’s heart felt like to explode from the adrenaline.

“Don’t let her go to the second floor!”

So that is where she was supposed to go.

Anya entered through an open window and suddenly a lot of gas started to fill the warehouse. Anya saw that the people inside was armed with the same guns she had in the backpack. She took one from the belt and started to shoot. The people she was shooting started to fall and ‘die’. She ran across the people in the middle of the smoke to the stairs when a big guy was waiting for her like a wall.

Anya was a 26-year-old police officer. She was mildly offended that there was only one guy. She easily passed through him and reached the second floor.

Fifteen-armed (with toys) people were waiting for her. Damian was tied in a chair with a smirk in his beautiful face, thinking for her mind only: “Are you going to rescue me or what?”

But the biggest surprise of all was the villain.

“Uncle Yuri?”

“Oh! You have finally find my liar, Agent Peanut!” he ignored her question, getting full in character “But you are late, your husband refused to give us information, so he is useless now. I have decided that he is going to die in 5 minutes!” A bomb with a clock was chained to Damian’s chest.

“I won’t let you!” She was full on combat mode now. Following the game. “Leave my husband alone! This is between you and me!”

“Soldiers, kill her!”

But Anya was too good. She didn’t stop laughing while fighting with the people they hired for this. When she was finally done with the ‘guards’ she faced her uncle: “Now it is your turn!”

“You think you can take me down in 4 minutes and a half? Keep dreaming! You’ll face your end at the hands of – he sighed and though “I can believe I’m going to say this but agh, whatever” - Bad-Man!” She was 100% sure they stopped the clock for dramatic purposes. Also Uncle Yuri performance, top notch!

Anya run to her uncle and kick him with all her might. He easily blocked it with his hand.

A bunch of kicks and fist fighting followed. Yuri was enjoying it as much as Anya. They trained together many years ago, but after Anya grew up and become a member of the police department, they stopped to have the sessions. There was no particular reason for it, they just didn’t have the time anymore.

So being here fighting each other was like a jump back in time. And Yuri’s eyes get a little bit to shiny and his smile was a bit too big while defending up from her attacks.

Finally, Yuri fell with a dramatic scream when Anya shot him in the chest with the toy gun. (it probably hurt, though. She was mere inches away from him).

There is no way in hell that the fight took less than 10 minutes. But when she run towards Damian the clock has a minute left before the explosion.

She took the tape out of his mouth and dramatically kissed him. “Are you alright?”

“Hurry Anya! The bomb is going to explode any second now!”

“What is the key?”

There was a circular padlock holding the timer. Anya looked around her and run to Yuri’s pockets. Empty.

“Have you seen something that circular today?” Damian asked her.

She tried to read his mind, but all she found was “I won’t tell you. I won’t tell you. I won’t tell you” repeated as a mantra.

35 seconds.

Think Anya, think.

And then it hit her. She opened the backpack and took the peanut can. Could it be?

She pushed the can against the padlock and the timer stopped.

She beamed at Damian with a smile in her face “Take that!”

He was, however, staring at her with a loving gaze “You did it wonderfully”.

She then released him from the chains and hugged him. “I love you so much”

He replied to her with a thought in his head: “No more than how much I love you, Anya. Merry Christmas”

“You, big dork” was all she could say in a voice faltering with love.

“That hurts, Peanut” Yuri’s voice was behind her “No hugs for the boxing bag you just defeat and keep ignoring?”

She turned around and hugged her uncle without saying a word. She then removed a couple traitor tears that escape her eyes. “So, what’s next?”

“The helicopter is waiting for us behind the building.”

“Helicopter?”

“I just wanted you to live the full experience” was her husband reply.

She intertwined his fingers on hers “Thank you for today”

But there was a final surprise.

Damian’s sweet smile was not showing all the embarrassingly intense passionate thoughts he suddenly sent her way about the plans for the rest of the day and night. Anya’s face grew red in an instant. One of the downsides of the new discovered power was that Damian enjoyed making her blush on public. His smile shift to a cocky one once he saw his wife reaction.

“Did you really though my plans ended up after lunch? It is as if you don’t know me at all”

“Well… I do have the rest of my life to do that”

------------------

Hope you like it! Happy holidays!

#damianya #aged-up #spyxfamily #spy x family #sneaky santa exchange #anya forger #damian desmond #my writing

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wannabeauthorclive · 3 years

Text

[Image ID: Dark blue banner of the ocean with four pirate ships saying “Over Land and Sea” with “Camp NaNo WIP Update” underneath. End ID]

I have been really bad at giving updates about how nano is going for me. I said I would do one of these every Sunday, that failed. I’m only doing this one because I finished!! I did it! I hit my goal!!

Project — Over Land and Sea

End Goal — 30,000 words

Daily Goal — 1,000 words

Total written — 30,162 words

Overall Notes — I’m absolutely loving this project and how it’s coming along! It has been difficult juggling all my characters, by it’s a struggle I am willing to do. I also made Desmond a protag (along with Black and Silver) cause I love him too much not to, and it fits the story. I was able to reach my daily goal almost every day and I’m really proud of that! Some days were definitely harder than others, but that’s ok, it’s all part of the journey. I’m changing a lot from my initial outline so I’m glad I kept it in a way that I could change it if I wanted.

Thank you every single one of you -- I don’t think I could have made it this far without you. You’re all wonderful friends and are so so supportive and I love you! Thank you!

~~~ Four of my favorite scenes under the cut! ~~~

Desmond’s POV

He looks over at Captain Black, still a good fifty feet away, and sends her a wicked, wicked smile. For a split second, he could see the panic in her eyes before it’s gone again, wiped away and leaving the Captain Black everyone knows and either hates or loves. She shoots him a wicked grin of her own and his smile falters before returning full force. This will be fun.

He would go and greet her halfway, but alas, he must stay in-between the crew and the ship. She walks right up behind her crew and moves to stand in front of them defensibly. Her posture never sways and her face never softens as she stares at Desmond. Part of him thinks she’s staring into his soul, which is impossible. Impossible.

“We haven’t gotten the chance to properly introduce ourselves.” Desmond starts, holding out his hand. Captain Black doesn’t take it, doesn’t even glance at it. He withdraws his hand, nodding in acceptance of the refusal. “I am Desmond Ponsa.”

Captain Black’s crew’s eyes go even wider while Captain Black herself just snarls. “I know exactly who you are, Ponsa.”

Silver Sterling’s POV

The newspaper. That’s how she found out about Black in the first place, no letters from her or Desmond, and certainly no espionage agent. Could the press be able to track pirate better than a chase could? Someone who has seen the Queen of the Seas lately would sure to report it for good money, and people pay good money for information. But if she tracked Viras’s press, she’d have to catch Captain Black before she moved on. Would Silver be fast enough?

She straightens in the tub, her relaxed posture fully gone. Maybe if she was already moving, maybe if she could find where the Captain would probably stop for supplies. It’d be a wild goose chase, trying to find a pirate. It’s a wild goose chase trying to find someone who has roots, but a pirate? It’s nearly impossible.

That’s what she loves doing, though. The impossible. Proving people were wrong to say she couldn’t do something. That’s what she has been told her whole life. “You can’t do that.” “Only men are able to do that.” “Berian women don’t do that, it doesn’t fit with society.”

And every single one of those things people told her she couldn’t do, she did. That’s one reason why she loved her sister, she didn’t even ask if she could do something or not. She just did them and by the time people could tell her she couldn’t do that, she had already gone and done it.

“The impossible is only impossible to those who are afraid.” Her sisters voice whispers in her ear. That was her motto, said before every risky thing they did. And the words solidified Silver’s idea further.

Captain Black’s POV (TW: mental health problems, serious anxiety)

“No, no, no. No.” Black repeats, her voice quavering but leaving no room for argument. Leaving the wheel, not seeing her crew, not watching for the National Guard, not commanding her ship would be sure to send her into a panic attack. If her anxiety is getting to hard for her to captain her ship properly, she shouldn’t be here at all.

But whatever happens, she’s not gonna let her anxiety and memory blackouts take control over her and dictate wether she is capable of captaining her ship. She’s gonna find a way to put an end to all of it before it gets to that point. Black won’t risk the safety of her crew but she won’t give up being captain unless she is fully incapable. And that’s not gonna be any time soon.

“Black!” Black jerks out of her stupor. “Black, god, you can’t do that.” Ironside whispers, relief and worry and scared blanketing her tone. “You’re here one moment and not the next and something has to change. We can’t be in battle and that happening.” She says forcefully.

This is why Black loves Ironside, she doesn’t step around anything. Straight to the point. Black doesn’t respond, she just keeps staring out over the sea. Waiting for the National Guard give a surprise attack on this bright and cloud-free, sunny day.

Ironside sighs. Her friend’s mind is breaking. It has been for a long while, this is the first time any of them noticed it though. She glances behind her at the faces of the crew, gathered around to see if their captain, friend, and family is alright. A spike of guilt hits her, she should have seen it. But none of them did and now, now Black is paying the price.

It’s like Black’s sanity is slipping out of her fingers like sand and it’s so hard to watch. So, so hard. But she has to, it may be the only way she can help.

Captain Black’s POV (TW: violence, death)

A quick second is all it takes for Black to notice the pistol aimed at Lakoma’s head. A quick second for Black to realize that blood is gonna be split. Not their blood, not if Black can help it. And by God, she can help it. She isn’t losing anyone today. A borderline wicked smile replaces her grin and with a flick of a wrist, two daggers are in her hands.

She sees the panic in her crew’s eyes as the entire Viras Treasury surrounds them. Too many people. They’ve never fought this many before. “Keep going!” She screams at them. She has. She’s fought this many people.

Another flick of the wrist and the dagger is flying through the air. It finds its target in the belly of the same guard with his pistol aimed at Lakoma and another dagger is flying. Another dagger, another guard down.

Tons of weapons can be hidden among the folds of her dress and Black is ever grateful for her weapons. Two more daggers come out, two more daggers hit their mark. One in a throat, one in an eye.

Out of the corner of her eye, Braveheart is beating down one after another soldier, Lakoma is throwing daggers faster than Black can see while gun shots ring out from Tonya.

If only Captain Black had her Cutlass sword, this would all be much easier. She is unstoppable with her sword, no one can get out of her way. But alas, her sword is a size too big to fit in her dress.

A moment in her head and a guard was able to get too close. He throws his weight into his rapier to slice her — obviously not well trained, rapiers are stabbing weapons, not slashing ones — and she quickly ducks under him. With a swift kick to the balls, his rapier is now hers and she demonstrates how you really use a rapier. A stab though the gut. Or heart, but she goes at the gut. The pain lasts longer.

Taglist: @baguettethebooklover @a-completely-normal-writer @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hysteriwah @tiredlittleoldme @the-writing-avocado @vellichor-virgo @radiomacbeth @wildwrites @crowewritesstuff @crystallized-ink @strangerays @47crayons @ladywithalamp (ask to be +/-)

#wip. over land and sea #my writing #nanowrimo #camp nano 2021 #olas excerpts

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