#already knew he trusted jammer but damn
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Holy shit, Evan just gave Jammer his backpack. All of his possessions are in that backpack, that's an insane amount of trust for Evan to bestow.
#totally makes sense given evan hasnt felt a dark compulsion to do something since sam exorsized the demons 3 years ago#and man i really should rewatch s1 cause i some how forgot about thaf#but the fact he no hesitation gives his backpack to jammer so he doesnt have access to the boom#already knew he trusted jammer but damn#misfits and magic#misfits and magic spoilers#evan kelmp#whitney jammer
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Sunset Died - Wolff/Sword/Crumplebottom
New facts (Longer Part)
After Morgana had finished her conversation with the others, she went back to the tent. Cyclone stood in the center and looked into space. "Oh, there's a man under the hat, hnhn. I was told to check you out." Exhausted and with tired eyes, he shook his head. "Actually, I'm fine…". Morgana looked at him and tilted her head a little. "Let the machine decide, okay?"/ "Machine?". She smiled and gestured for him to follow. "Just come with me to the back…"/ "mhm. Who else survived?"/ "A few more. And some of them only seem to think of themselves…" Cy narrowed his eyes, because he thought he knew which people she was talking about, "let's see how much longer".
Once they had arrived in the small room, she asked him to strip down to his underwear. Then he stood in the middle of the machine. Morgana switched it on and the scanners slowly began to rotate around him. A complete 3D image of his body was taken, both from the outside and the inside. Bones, tissue, even the smallest vessels could be seen. "it really is a miracle that you made it this far and carried her all the way here…"/ "hm, that bad?".
"Well, no… Fortunately, your rib is only cracked and not completely through. So if you take it easy for a while, new bone tissue will form quickly. "/ "And where does the shortness of breath come from?" he asked in a slightly worried undertone. "You're not the only one with this problem at the moment. It's gotten cold and people are coming here with the typical cold symptoms. Do you have to cough a lot?"/ "Every now and then…"/ "It looks like mild pneumonia, Cy. But don't worry, we have a broad-spectrum antibiotic here, which helps quite well in such cases".
Once the examination was complete, he was allowed to get dressed again. Which Morgana eyed a little critically. "You definitely need warmer clothes, Cy, that vest only encourages it to get worse. ". He looked down at himself and nodded in agreement. "I don't just need warmer clothes, we also need a warm house." Morgana thought for a moment until she thought of something. "I think I can help you with that, we've just renovated one together, there's electricity and water there too"/ "Oh?".
"Yes, but we are currently doing everything ourselves, laying the water pipes, power lines and everything. And we're always putting ourselves in danger. Electric shocks are not out of the question". Cy's face took on a grim expression. "That's not okay, and nobody's helping you?". Morgana shook her head. "The Altos are now in cahoots with the Landgraabs. There's so much we lack here and they don't give a damn about us! we don't even have access to the internet anymore"/ "oh, I wouldn't say that, you already have some"/ "huh?" Morgana looked at him in amazement.
Cy took a deep breath, well, as best he could. Then he looked at her seriously. "I think I can trust you, don't you?". She could see in his eyes that he had something serious to talk to her about. "uh… Yes, of course… What's wrong?"/ "O.k….Listen to me carefully, o.k.? Our radio tower here is working, perfectly, in fact. But some signals are being blocked, such as the internet's ability to transmit. Someone has installed a pretty powerful jammer there"/ "w-what are you saying?".
Morgana held her face with one hand. "That sounds like it was done on purpose"/ "Yes, that's what it looks like. I'd taken my laptop with me on the journey. I actually wanted to leave it at home, but now I no longer regret having it with me. I had edited it once so that I had a stable receiver with a longer range. "/ "o.k., but why are we being denied the internet?".
"Control, Morgana. Someone wants to control us here,"/ "but who, the Altos?". Cy shook his head and crossed his arms. "No, I don't think so. When everything was still fine here, they would never have thought of anything like that. everyone here could live their lives as they wanted…."/ "But then who is controlling us?". He raised his eyebrows and took another short breath. "I still have to find out. But first I'll make sure you get internet, but it might take a few more days"/ "I see, all right. Oh Cy, it's wonderful that you're 'home' again.“.
"I'd like to have a look at Blair's eyes, do you think that's possible?"/ "Well, nothing should really stand in the way of that. Everything looked pretty good last time. It's just… that she can't see out of one eye. She always says she can cope with it, but I think her soul is still suffering. Still… I love her…". Morgana smiled and could see in his eyes that his words were true… "All right. I'll get you the key first.".
It's well past three in the morning and Agnes wants to make her way home. "It's so nice to have you back. I was really scared for you"/ "I'm very brave, you would never have guessed that about me, I know, hnhn. Now I really want to see my nephew again… I hope Stiles has been well looked after him?"/ "oh yes, very much, they've been getting on well so far"/ "nice. What about Blair's parents?"…
"Well, her father usually seemed relatively composed to me. But appearances are a little deceptive. And her mother… I think she'll be beside herself with joy. Really, everyone thought Blair was dead, except Susan…". Agnes looked at her wearily and a little dreamily. "She often talked about her parents on our way back. How sorry she is that she drove so easily…"/ "Yes, but…it saved her life in the end".
Agnes looked up into the night sky for a moment. "Yes, the universe probably meant well. You wouldn't believe how happy I am to be back. I would have liked to have had more success…"/ "hey, that was a great success that you found the three of them. I'm very surprised about Cy, he looks like a real man"/ "hnhn, he acts like one too. The two of them are very cute together. But now I'm going, I finally, FINALLY want to go to my bed, hnhn".
And so Agnes made her way to Stiles' house. There he and Mortimer played with a ball under the night sky. And the boy was very happy when he saw his aunt again. And for Stiles too, it was almost a relief to see her safe and sound. The two had already grown closer before Agnes left, but now they could allow their feelings to grow further.
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End of this Part
@greenplumbboblover ☺
#sims3#screenshots#simsstories#sims3 story#sunset died#post apocalyptic#ts3 simblr#the sims3 gameplay#morgana wolff#cycl0n3 sw0rd#agnes crumplebottom
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4 , 2 and 8 for the prompts and H2OVanoss :)
Okay this took way too long. >.
AU: MafiaTrope: Enemies to loversPrompt: “wait, wait. say that again. please.”
Pairing: H2O Vanoss
Warning: Slight gore/violence cause its mafia and shit.
“Where the hell did they get this many guys?” Vanoss swore when he ducked behind another box, hearing wood bursting from the bullets that shot through the warehouse. His eyes scanned the area, checking on the status of his gang. Basically’s arm was bleeding through the bandage that Moo had wrapped around it, proving the wound was far worse than his right-hand man wanted to admit.
“Bigger question; why aren’t they shooting at you?” Wildcat’s swear was louder than the fight, jumping up to pepper the other crew with bullets. Despite his aggressive attack, Vanoss knew the grim truth; they’d been ambushed. It was meant to be a simple deal, and Vanoss hadn’t thought the smaller gang was a threat. That’d been why he left most of his men back at the hideout; they were mid-investigating a mysterious gang that had recently showed up on the west side of the city.
But apparently, from the grins of the west side gang now surrounding the warehouse, the smaller gang had chosen a side. And it wasn’t Vanoss’s.
“I can’t get a signal out to the guys; they must have a jammer with them.” Marcel’s voice was strained, almost on the side of hopeless.
“Shit!” This time it was pain that snapped in Wildcat’s shout, and red pooled from his side from the bullet’s contact.
“What’s the plan, Vanoss?” Moo’s voice shook, and Vanoss gritted his teeth at his own stupidity. He didn’t have a plan. They weren’t going to get out of this alive at this rate. The set up was too simple, why hadn’t he picked up on the classic bait-and-switch-
“Need some help?” Vanoss jerked his head at the voice above him, eyes wide when seeing the crazy smile shining from the rafters.
“Delirious?” A gun was twirled in the air before a whistle shot through the air, and the visual of men dropping from the rafters was breath-taking. The show caught the other gang off guard, leaving them helpless to the spray of bullets rained down on them. Cartoonz laughed while he dropped down with ease Vanoss knew wasn’t faked, aiming his shots into the lackey’s foreheads. Anyone who aimed their guns at Cartoonz dropped like flies in seconds. A shift on a higher beam and a flash of a grey blindfold proving their sniper, Ohmwrecker, was not letting Cartoonz get hurt. Overwhelming the troops from behind, Squirrel and Gorilla were trading witty barbs while they took on the grunts on the ground. Blood splashed over their clothes from the deadly assault.
“Hey there, Owl-man.” And in the middle of the chaotic fray was their leader. Delirious was known for his crazy antics, and his ruthlessness was almost as crucial to his personality as his unpredictability. Delirious and his motley crew were on nobody’s side but their own, and the crazed clown could decide to attack any crew he felt deserved it over breakfast. Vanoss had been on the wrong side of Delirious’s switchblade a few times in earlier years, especially when Vanoss’s crew had first started in the east bay. Delirious always had tricks up his sleeve, tampering with guns or ruinings trades between rival gangs just to get under Vanoss’s skin. They’d even fought once, both of their gangs simply watching their leaders beat the shit out of each other. Vanoss still remembered the unusual rush of heat in his stomach at the bloody smile Delirious had worn after the scuffle. The feeling had lingered long after the sprained wrist and bruised ribs.
Vanoss didn’t really know what Delirious thought of him. The anger and hatred from before was long gone. They didn’t fight every time they met anymore. In fact, Vanoss realized Delirious and his crew had started hanging around his own more, and the duo tended to warn the other when they planned to make a move of power or started a turf war with another gang. Once, Cartoonz had saved Terroriser from getting jumped, and Panda returned the favor after Squirrel stumbled into the wrong neighborhood without his piece. Neither tried to encroach on the other’s territory anymore, despite it sharing many lines in the city. When Delirious snuck into Vanoss’s office at night ‘out of boredom’ at his hangout, Evan didn’t worry about his life as much as he once did. Sure, he still didn’t know Delirious or any of his gang’s actual names. Evan also didn’t share his own, keeping a barrier between them. Still, he never felt the twitching need to grab the gun he had strapped on his thigh, no matter how close the two sat in the darkness of the night.
“What are you doing here?” Vanoss asked, Delirious scanning behind Vanoss before he aimed his gun at the fray of men trying to run away.
“Got a tip.” Three easy shots took out two of the men, while the final shot was shifted to blow out the final grunt’s knee. Looking gleeful at the explosion of blood, Delirious shucked the gun over his shoulder, the strap keeping it close to his back. Then his blue eyes bore back down at Vanoss, his laugh growing at Vanoss’s scowl. “Said a bird might have been set up.”
“We were doing fine without-”
“Ohm, get out of your damn nest and bring the first aid kit. This kid’s hurt.” Cartoonz’s voice cut off Vanoss’s protest, the older gang member helping Brock move Marcel to a flat surface.
“This one, too.” Gorilla had his hand over Tyler’s side, keeping pressure and an even keel voice. “But I think the brats are both gonna live.”
“We’re not brats,” Basically grumbled, his hiss loud after Cartoonz smacked the side of his head. “Ow, hey! What the hell?”
“I think you were in diapers when I shot my first gun.” Vanoss watched Cartoonz and Basically started to bicker as Ohm rushed over with his kit, Brock’s face panicked while trying to stop the fight. He only let his attention linger for a moment before turning back to Delirious, who had already moved to the man he’d left bleeding out in the entrance of the warehouse. Surprised at how silent the other leader had been in his movements, Evan moved after him, wondering why he’d left the last man alive.
“-so if you like that particular part of your body attached, you’ll tell me why they’re after Vanoss.” He caught the tail end of the playful threat from Delirious, the knife weaving in and out of his fingers in obvious meaning.
“No-not trying to kill him!” Fear that Delirious had earned was filling the wounded grunt’s words. “Kill his people!”
“Who wants my guys dead? What do they gain from that? And why would they want to kill my people, but not me?” Vanoss asked, picking up on the avoidance of the man’s eyes.
“Their plan…” The hesitation of the sentence made Delirious growl, kicking into the ribs of the man once with his steel boots.
“Spill your shit or your dick is mine!” Evan wanted to point out how stupid the comment sounded (was he trying to threaten or seduce?), but another hit finally parted the other’s lips.
“He wants Vanoss as his!” Gasping, it took a few shaky breaths for the man to continue. “Thinks if he…isolates him, kills his gang…he’ll own Vanoss, take him in. From some guy named Jonathan. ‘Own the Owl-man’ or something like that.”
The twitch of Delirious’s shoulders and the long silence sent a chill down Vanoss’s spine.
“Wait, wait. Say that again.” There was a murderous edge in Delirious’s eyes when he stepped onto the bleeding knee of the other man. His smile took a twisted darker edge hearing the man’s whimpers, then added pressure. “Please.”
“Delirious.” Vanoss didn’t know why the focus on his life made the other’s normally light-hearted nature fizzle out so fast, or why it squeezed around his heart. “He’s gonna go unconscious-”
“If you pass out, I’ll chop you up and feed you to your family. I’ll make sure they know every piece, every bite, is you. Tell me exactly what he said.” Gone was the goofy threats and half-fumbled words; here was the man that made even the strongest of gangsters quiver. People thought that Cartoonz really ran the gang, and that Delirious was simply too distracted or unsure to keep the strong men under his control. Vanoss once thought that, too; Cartoonz tended to snap at Delirious and give far more sass in the few interactions Vanoss had seen than he thought a right hand man should.
But in these moments, the ones where only people Delirious trusted or weren’t long for this earth got to see, Delirious was death incarnate.
“Said…said ‘I want Jonathan know I’m here. I wan to own his Owl-man’. He didn’t say who Jonathan was or-or what he had to do with Vanoss, but-that’s all, I swear.” Delirious watched the grunt squirm on the floor without emotion, his eyes unfocused with a haunted look that made Vanoss swallow. A heartbeat later, Delirious had his gun in his hand, no hesitation in his face when blowing the other’s brains out. One shot became two, and Evan stared helplessly as several more were launched into the twitching corpses’s mutilated face. Delirious’s gun ran out from how many times he shot, and even still he tried to shoot.
“Delirious.” Softly, Vanoss moved forward, hand hesitant to curl over the hand that kept pulling the trigger. “You can stop. He’s dead.”
“He’s not.” Somehow, Vanoss knew they weren’t talking about the same he. Once vacant, the blue of Delirious’s eyes blazed with overwhelming anger, eyes slowly turning to Evan. Rage was there, but deeper, Vanoss could see something possessive break the hostility. “But he will be.”
Unsure how to process the statement, Vanoss didn’t speak, watching Delirious shrug off his hold and stalked back into the warehouse. Slowly, Vanoss turned his eyes back down to the body bleeding out by his feet. He wasn’t sure who was after him, or why, but it seemed Delirious did. And he’d taken it personally, though Vanoss didn’t know why.
But he planned to find out.
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Helping out your mate
Eh, so i thought maybe a should post mi lil ficlets also over tumblr so more people can enjoy,
next fic is rated E so :)
1k + words
Mark was sitting at his desk at the workshop all alone. The lonely brit stared at the sheet filled with equations he wrote down himself, new modifications for his jammers. He had trouble paying attention to the numbers in front of him, the more he stared at them, the more blurry they got. ‘I must be tired, maybe some coffee could help.’ Mark thought for himself as he took out his phone and send a message to Jamie to prepare him a coffee.
He started doing some other stuff as he waited for his coffee, mentally preparing himself to throw James out of the workshop. James knew damn well Mark had banned him from the workshop because he kept bothering, distracting him, and not letting him work overall. James respected Mark’s decision, he totally understood he could be a pain in the ass to Mark, but whenever Mark called him in for a favor, he wouldn’t just walk out of the workshop without at least trying to convince the engineer to let him stay for the day.
“One mug of coffee on the way” James chanted as he walked in the workshop as if it was his own. Mark just glared at him, not expressing any kind of emotions on his face, James just smiled at him, being very used to that look in particular. “Thank you Jamie, now, please, get the fuck out.” Manners, of course.
“Aw… already? I haven’t even started begging sweetie.’’ James placed the mug of coffee on the desk.
“Don’t even start, don’t make me lock you in our dorm.” Mark warned, giving his coffee a small sip.
“Aw, come on darling…” James started, getting near his beloved engineer. “I’m particularly horny today…”
“ Well that’s not my problem, jack off somewhere else, I need to finish this.” Mark kept ignoring James’ whimpers, focusing his look over the papers on his desk.
“Markie please…” James walked two fingers over Mark’s thigh, making the man tense up in his seat. “I want to swallow your whole dick...” James whispered in Mark’s ear, he felt how Mark tensed in his seat, that could only mean that he’d give in.
“Alright fucker, under my desk, quick.” Mark bit his lip as he palmed his growing erection and pushed back his seat to let James crouch under the desk. “But you’ll get out once you’re done, ‘kay?’’
“Sounds fair, luv.” James started unzipping the engineer’s pants just enough to take out Mark’s stiff member. James stared at it for a couple of seconds before sinking his mouth on thecockhead, swirling his tongue around it, making Mark breathe out loudly.
James started bobbing his head up and down, taking half of Mark’s length, missing the desk just by centimeters. Mark started breathing out loudly as he worked on the equations, he started completing them quickly. He was surprised, who would’ve thought a blowjob would help ease his mind much better than coffee.
Suddenly, James sank his head all the way down, swallowing Mark completely without gagging, pressing his nose against Mark’s groin, making the cockhead hit against James’ throat, good thing his gag reflex was gone long ago. Mark repressed a groan, squeezing the pencil he was holding. “Fuck…” Mark whispered.
James’ head started moving quicker, causing the engineer to huff even harder as he tried to solve his problems, his handwriting started to turn out shakier as James bobbed his head faster, making the numbers almost incomprehensible, but the answers to the equations were still correct.
The sound of a doorknob alarmed both, it was Marius, who had just walked in, he wasn’t supposed to be here. “Oh, hey Mark, sorry for interrupting, but, have you seen my toolbox? I can’t seem to find it.” Marius walked in, searching every locker in the room.
“No, I haven’t… seen it...” Mark managed to speak up, glaring his look over the german. James started sucking and moving faster than before, trying to turn Mark into a moaning mess.
“Oh well, thank you anyway.” Mark huffed, he was starting to lose himself over the blowjob, calling the german's attention right away. “ Are you feeling alright Chandar?” Marius asked curious, leaving the locker door half-closed.
“Yes, I’m fine, James fed me something strange again...” James couldn’t help but draw a little smile as he sucked. Yeah, he’d occasionally feed Mark anything he created in his lab that seemed edible, and Mark would accept it because why not, he trusted the man, kinda.
James placed a hand over the cock’s base and started yerking him off as he sucked the rest of his dick, making Mark slam his knee towards the desk in an attempt to choke a moan, making Marius even more intrigued of his colleague’s condition. “Are you sure you are alright? let me call Gus-”
“No! I’m completely fine, I’m just... having cramps from yesterday’s training...” Marius looked at him until he was completely convinced, then walked outside the workshop.
“Hmmm, alright, see you later then.” Marius said as he closed the door behind him, finally leaving Mark alone.
“You little turd!” Mark slammed both of his hands over his desk, making James jolt by the loud sound. Mark slid a hand underneath the desk to pull away the hand that was yerking him off, then proceeded to placed it over James’ head to keep him steady and started slightly rocking his hips towards James, fucking his throat. “God fucking damn it, Jamie…”
Mark pushed back his seat, pulling James by the hair to get him out under the desk to fuck his throat properly. Mark stood up, yanking James’ hair back and forth as he thrust his hips towards the poor man. James didn’t complain at all, instead, he just squeezed Mark’s ass for support.
“I’m, I’m close…” Mark announced as he started thrusting more irregularly, quiet moans and needy whines escaping his mouth until he spilled his load, filling James’ mouth completely, cum leaking from the corner of his mouth. “ Agh, look at that, so slutty…” Mark said as he wiped off with a finger the leaking cum that ran down James’ chin to stick his finger inside his mouth, sucking it until Mark pulled it out, making a wet pop. “Alright love’s over, now get out and let me work.”
James swallowed his cum before standing up, his pants had a cum stain. “Hey, no fair, now I have a problem.” James gestured his hand toward his raging erection.
“Well, take care of your problem somewhere else, I have to work, hey, maybe if I finish this quick I could help you with your problem .” Mark zipped his spent cock away and sat down in his seat, pulling himself closer towards the desk.
“Really?” James was surprised, usually, Mark was always too grumpy to take his shit whenever he was working on his projects.
“Yeah, but let me work first, then we’ll see…” Mark said with a smirk on his face, snapping his fingers to hurry James out of the room. The chemist let his lover alone and went to yerk off in his dorm all by himself.
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Stolen Worlds 1
Queen of Thieves: Takes place just after the MC breaks up with Nikolai.
Avengers: Takes place during The Winter Soldier, but with additional characters.
Unknown!Nick Fury x reader, (previous) Nikolai Stirling x reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x reader, (eventual) Steve Rogers x reader.
Things take a positive turn for Y/N’s mission to infiltrate Hydra, though when she meets a certain Captain America, of whom she’s not supposed to at all, will that complicate things if she lies about who she truly is? Or is Rumlow’s attraction towards her distracting enough?
Chapter One
Getting out of the Gilded Poppy was easier than expected if you don’t count the numerous calls and texts from them awaiting a response or a way to track her, thank god for signal jammers, while she transferred some necessary data and contacts she made on her adventure.
It came to even more of a surprise for her with Fury. “For a supposed dead man he sure has a lot of connections still.” Muttering to herself, she scuffled her way down to her newly found desk. Fury had managed to pull some strings for her to have a placement within the already infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.and her mission was to infiltrate Hydra. This was going to be fun for her. Working as a computer techie had its perks, she wouldn’t be going back in the field, something she asked for. That was the only part of their deal Fury had no light behind, but nevertheless respected her wishes and privacy, for once.
Y/N has put up with the most toughest of enemies in the past, going as far as to having torture them for information or to weasle her way in undercover missions, she hadn’t anticipated a certain Brock Rumlow to take her bait so quickly. She needed to be stealthy and cautious, he could be on to her and that was something she did not want to happen. It had taken a few rough months to gain the trust of him and others from Hydra for them to start confiding in her of updates. The other part of her mission was to feed the information to Captain America and Romanoff without being caught, so anonymity was vital.
The duo, who were doing their own investigations and schemes had recruited a Sam Wilson onto their team. Y/N was getting very anxious with their side of things, though the trio had no idea who she was going by the alias of Agent Z; it had given them great mixture of distrust in her. Which she fully understood, how couldn’t she?
Sighing for the upteenth time that day, she ignored another one of Remy’s calls. The Gilded Poppy were not giving up on her, concerned if she was alright. Luckily she kept one of her older phones that she used when she was doing spy work for the Organisation. Shuddering at the thought of her old life, she attempted at brushing it off, she needed to focus. Meeting with Rumlow was something she was getting used to alongside the odd gropes, but this meeting was different, she was finally meeting Alexander Pierce. Fury had stated his suspicions of him being the one to set the hit out on him. Hopefully this gave her more insight into the Winter Soldier.
Y/N was tactful, her advances in technology were made known to him, so she was silently praying that it would be enough to allow for more access to any classified issues. As she approached the end of the long hallway, Y/N felt one of her shifts hit stronger than normal. Someone was behind her, subtly changing her pace, she prepared for the worse when an arm slithered its way onto her waist, sending a grimy squeeze on her right side. Rumlow. Hiding her disgust she gave him a thin smile in greeting as a mischievous grin reciprocated.
“You know, after this, perhaps we could finally get some time alone.” The suggestion did intrigue her, she wasn’t new to sleeping with someone on the job, but for the safety of herself and revealing her true self she battled against it. “How about, you can jack off to the vision of me actually sleeping with you?” With that, she strode forward, forcing his grasp off her body to slip as the door opened and they both stepped inside. Before Brock could argue further with her, the sight of Pierce’s back was daunting enough to challenge him. “Sir.” The double agent coughed. Turning around ever so slowly, Pierce had a rather striking appearance, but Y/N was using her chance to to analyse him. So he’s the big boss man… well, I suppose it fits… She’d never met Pierce but has heard of him, from some brief talks with Fury in the past with liaisons between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Organisation. Again, stop thinking about that right now, you can’t fuck this up.
“Ah, so you must be the famous Agent Z. Agent Rumlow has spoken highly of you and your skills.” The older man had the nerve to smile at her and be polite. “I wouldn’t say my work is anything special, sir.”
Deciding to act all humble about it was a smart move, his eyes lit up. Great he wants someone to manipulate. Pierce chuckled, rather sinisterly, “Oh, sweetheart, don’t put yourself down. You’re the best I have seen in a long time and trust me, I’ve been working here for a long time. Now,” flicking a switch, he triggered the holographic computer screen to appear as well shut off all doors and windows, making the room completely safe from eavesdroppers and trapping Y/N, “let’s begin, shall we?”
Gesturing for her to sit down, she did so as Rumlow stood directly behind her chair. Gulping nervously, Y/N kept her thoughts at bay. “I want to introduce you to something that will further you to work for the best of the best. Have you ever considered… joining Hydra? Now, before you argue with me, I am aware you do have a criminal past… odd jobs here and there within mobs and gangs, then progressing yourself to change your tune, into a good citizen of life. But, when I saw your application process through to S.H.I.E.L.D., I knew that you can’t resist this kind of life.”
Taking deep breaths, it was a lot to take in, she was worried that he caught for her more physical resume. All of her work for those mobs and gangs did underlay that she was doing hacking jobs for them. “Yes, sir… I guess you must have seen right through my lie there, I just… I didn’t know how to grab the attention.”
“My dear, you have caught mine. What would you say to assisting me in making the world a better place?”
—
Stopping at a coffee house, Y/N couldn’t resist the urge to sigh. She needed a break from everything. Luckily for her, she was granted a day off, something she thought would’ve been rejected given her area of expertise was close to what Hydra wanted. Pierce has probably allowed this to rope me in further. Distracted by her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed a blond gentleman asking if the seat before her was free. Blinking up at the man, she noted the gentle, genuine smile that crawled on his lips. Returning a smile of her own she allowed him to take the seat, finally realising how quickly the coffee shop had filled. I need to focus… though her thoughts said so, the man before her thought otherwise.
He kept a conversation flowing, apologising if he had disturbed her from her work, then beginning to question on what she was doing. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but the look on your face is quite a sight ma’am.” He chuckled.
Shaking herself out of focus she fixed her attention on the blond, instant panic swept her. Shit, does he know who I am? Fuck fuck fuck, stay calm. “Ah, sorry, got a lot of uni work to catch up on. It’s hell.” Smiling and nodding along playfully she played along to his antics. “I bet it is. I’m Steve, what’s your name?”
Her eyes widened in horror as she finally took a moment to look at him. Shit, Captain America is right in front of me...
—
“You what? How on this damned earth could you have bumped into him Y/L/N!?” Fury’s voice resonated through the practically empty apartment she had supplied for him. The former director began pacing, almost wearing out his shoes and the floorboards beneath him.
“Well, it’s not as if I knew that was gonna happen Fury? Besides he didn’t recognise me and I gave an alias to him, so be glad I was able to think quick on my feet. What I want to know though, is why I can’t tell Captain Rogers that I am their mole in their little operation.”
“I can’t risk having anything happening to you. Let’s put it that way and it doesn’t help when you don’t want to be in the field and be stuck behind a screen all day.”
—
“Let me get this straight Rogers, you gave a stranger your actual name and just hoped she wasn’t Hydra?!” Natasha was not one to irritate, Steve learnt this quick, but now he had to face her wrath.
“Nat, I doubt she was Hydra. There was something about her…” He could already predict the scoff that slipped out of the woman’s mouth seconds later. “Listen, if this gets back to me badly, I’ll take the fall for it. Besides, you’re the one that wanted me to get back into the dating game. I can’t really lie to her and then tell her the truth when everything’s over.”
She knew he was right but she couldn’t go back and change the past. “Alright, but I’m telling you, anything bad happens because of this, then we’ll be royally fucked.”
—
Y/N was getting to a breaking point already. She was a bit rusty with this however, there’s too much violence for her liking. At least phase two was done for her. Though as she got to work and proved herself over and over, secretly storing information she perceived as valuable to taking them down, she couldn’t help but miss watching Zoe doing all the hacking things.
It gave her a break for certain, she wasn’t heavily relied on for the things she used to do and is currently doing now compared to when she was living the life of infamous luxury. But she did miss it. The image of Zoe tapping away on her phone when they were out and about, moving the cameras from seeing them as a group as they all pranced, planning or celebrating. The look on his face as he smiled at her, fingers slipping into her own, muttering something about not wanting to lose her from her excitedness.
A soft expression played itself onto her face as she daydreamed her now old life. Though it didn’t last long as the sound of a thud as coffee was placed on her desk rather abruptly, causing her to jump. “Looks like you could do with it.”
Rumlow. Again. The man had practically not left her side since, as if she was something he needed to protect. It made Y/N grimace at the thought of him wanting to do more with her, but she was glad that there were some rules that kept him from doing so, didn’t mean that he didn’t keep his distance. The only alone time she could grab alone time was when he had to deal with The Winter Soldier. From that, she managed to complete the USB stick to stash in a vending machine, in the hospital where Fury’s body lay. She almost got caught by a woman with reddish hair. She’d rather not have anyone know her identity or even recruit her to help with such physical tasks of anything. Preferring to play behind a screen, doing all the cleaner work, allowing the others to get their hands dirty.
The last thing Y/N needed was for her name to smudged once more. Her work had been proven useful for Hydra, no one had to question her anymore, though she doubt they would with Rumlow spreading that she’s ‘his girl’. It helped her get promoted to The Winter Soldier project eventually and that was when shit got real for her. Captain America’s best friend is the Winter Soldier. It was a simple search online, but that made her uneasy with how she could tread with this information.
Steve Rogers. He had a good physique and for a man that was rumoured to be unable to talk to women, he held his own quite well. She never expected for the next events to happen. It was all so sudden, plus she had barely even met the guy and she was already growing a crush. I guess that’s what happens when you literally watch from the sidelines to ensure the plan is going accordingly...
#queen of thieves#remy chevalier#vivienne tang#nikolai stirling#leon kwan#zoe banks#jett slater#lovestruck queen of thieves#lovestruck#marvel#avengers#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#sam wilson#maria hill#nick fury#Bucky Barnes#the winter soldier#the guilded poppy#hydra#shield#Winter Soldier#alexander pierce#brock rumlow
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my brain has claimed it’s glory over me
fallen hero: rebirth fanfiction with crow and dr. mortum. this is coming out of rewriting the hospital scene to try and get a better feel for both crow’s puppet morrígan and for dr. mortum as a character.
~4.2k words, rip me
title taken from [the mind electric]
–
You gasp awake and the pain hits you like a door slammed open in your face. Something grabs your hand while the black drains from your vision, only to be replaced with the harsh glare of overhead lighting blinding you in the opposite direction. You flinch as you flutter your eyes. You’re laying down on something, a bed? A cot? The walls are white, no not exactly. A ghost of someone else’s panic shoots through you. A hospital. Of– of course.
It’s just a hospital.
You’re fine. You don’t have anything to fear about hospitals. Why were you panicking?
You tilt your head and there’s the good doctor sitting next to you on a chair, attention engrossed in her phone. Concern written into the lines of her face. Huh. That’s a surprise. You didn’t really believe she would care about you. Well. Crow had been banking on it, to be fair. But… You feel something tight and warm, and not altogether unpleasant in your chest as you flash her a weak smile. “…s’up.”
Dr. Mortum glances up to you with a start, undisguised relief on her face. That’s… wild. “Ma chérie, you’re awake.”
“What–” You wince, coughing up something unpleasant. Your mouth feels dry, lungs hurt like you’ve inhaled cement.
Mortum springs from her chair to get you a cup of water, pressing the plastic cup in your hands as you pull yourself up into a sitting position. “Here.”
“T-thanks.” You flinch then down the cup in one go, swishing the water in your mouth before swallowing. You look down at your body. Everything hurts but you don’t see anything worse than some bruising. From your fall, or…? The events of the night after you left Morrígan feel hazy, melding together.
You find another cup pressed into your hands and you give Mortum your first back and down the second. You rub at your eyes with your free hand. “What the hell happened? Where are we?”
“The Memorial Hospital, ma chérie–”
Panic grips your chest again. “What? Why would you–?”
“Calm down…” She leans in to you to gently pry loose the plastic cup you’ve crushed in your hands. “If it’s money you’re concerned about, don’t be. This is a favor from a friend of mine…” Mortum watches your face carefully. “I was more than a little worried about you.”
What does that mean? “I’m… look– look, I’m fine?”
A slight smile cracks Mortum’s face and she pats your arm for you to lay back down. “You must have hit your head quite hard, ma chérie. I couldn’t wake you. Dr. Halabi even thought that you might have slipped into a coma.”
You can feel the heat on your face. How much did they know? Did Dr. Mortum know? What happened while you were out? “Well… I’m glad he was wrong.”
“She,” Dr. Mortum smiles, “And so am I. Your brain showed signs of past trauma when they scanned you.
“They… they scanned me?” You suck in your breath, biting your lip. No part of that sentence was something you wanted to hear.
“They did,” Mortum answers, she still has her hand on your arm. It feels warm to your skin. “When you did not wake. I would urge you look into the matter further. Brain injuries can be… unpredictable.”
“I’m fine…” You force a smile on your face. “Well. I’m mostly fine, considering. What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Huh? No, no, I do, I do!” You raise your voice, you don’t need her thinking you’ve gotten amnesia on top of everything else. “I remember the party. It’s just.. you know, everything after that’s a blank.” You rap your head with the knuckles of your hand and instantly regret the headache you’ve just given yourself.
The good doctor breathes out an “I see..” and relaxes. She shifts in her seat to lean in closer to you. “I suppose congratulations are in order. And a raise for you, I hope.”
Seriously? You glance around the room, “Sssh!”
“Oh, it’s perfectly safe here.” Mortum pats the pocket where she had put away her phone. “I activated the jammers a while ago. I don’t want to risk being overheard.”
A nervous smile slides up your face. “Of– of course you did.” What a relief to be working with someone on the same level of paranoia as you. You knew there was a reason you wanted her here. “So…” You take a breath. “Was it the explosion then?”
“Well, either you misread the timer, or it was stronger than you expected.”
“I didn’t misread anything.” You grit your teeth. “I set those charges exactly as instructed.”
Dr. Mortum’s smile shrinks into a frown. “That’s interesting. Those explosives were made to order. Your boss provided the specifications. It… was those which you used, yes?”
“I… I followed the instructions. To the letter.” Where are you going with this? There’s a pit of dread in the base of your stomach threatening to boil over you. “Their instructions. I didn’t– you don’t think?”
“That your boss might be trying to get rid of you? Tying up loose ends?” Mortum’s voice has gone hard. You flinch away from her gaze, the way her eyebrows have narrowed in a cold regard. Not for you of course. For the other you: for Crow.
You’ve got to get a handle on this conversation fast. “I– I did my job perfectly.” The implication that he might kill you off just to cover his tracks… You feel the knot in your stomach twist. No. This is crazy. This whole line of thought is crazy, right?
You’re here– Morrígan’s here because you put her here. Yourself here. This was part of the plan. To– to keep her– you safe. Not… not kill her– you.
Her?
What?
Fuck.
You press the tips of your fingers into your face, drag the skin down, try to massage the tension out.
You’re not… you’re not Morrígan. You’re… you? Right?? You’re Crow. Or maybe you’re both Morrîgan and Crow now?
And now Macha too?
Are you one person wearing three different masks, or three different masks swapping around one set of memories? How many identities do you need to create before you can find one that feels real? That feels like you?
What will you do about the ones that don’t make the cut?
Mortum watches you, waiting until you let your hands drop back to your sides before speaking up again. “I am sure it was just a mistake.” You don’t need to be a damn mind reader to know she’s lying to try and make you feel better. “But–” There we go. There’s always a ‘but.’ “If I were you, I would still be careful.”
You look up at her, you feel drained. “I will. I promise.”
The silence stretches out between the two of you as you look at and then past one another. When did it stop being a simple game of prediction? Prod the egghead with a shiny toy, show a little skin to flush her face, let her dance to your tune. She knows you too well for it to be that simple anymore.
No.
No, she doesn’t know you.
She knows Morrígan. Morrígan is your refuge. The one place in your life were you don’t feel… wrong. Wrenched out of alignment with the universe.
But… Morrígan isn’t you. Or… isn’t the whole you anyway. But if you think that way, then not only does know one know you, but no one is even capable of ever knowing you. An empty void spanning not just before you, but of you. The veil you’re trapped behind swallowed in the hollow black.
No. No. No. No. No.
“Ma chérie?”
Morrígan jumps in her cot, jostling the blanket covering her, her heart pounding against her ribs. “Y-yes!?”
Dr. Mortum holds her hand. She’s real. Morrígan’s real. You’re real. “I don’t think it is safe for you to go back to work again after this… Trust me. I know a bad deal and a bad boss when I see one. They. Are. Using. You.”
The concern in her voice. It hurts.
“I– I can’t.” You try to swallow, your throat tight, panic thrumming in your chest. Why? Why? “I really… really can’t.”
“Why, ma chérie?” Mortum’s leaning in close now, her voice low, worried. For you? Why? This was all just a game right? Why does she care? Her hand on yours is gentle, ready to retreat at the slightest hint. You just want to grab her tighter. What is wrong with you?
“You don’t– you don’t understand.” You have to swallow the words in your throat. “I can’t– I’m afraid– If I leave…”
“You think they’ll kill you.”
You leap on her words like a life preserver. “Or– or worse.” You can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest. You’re getting too close Or Morrígan is. Or somebody is. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “He… he can be dangerous.”
Crow… this is Crow’s fault. Should have left Morrígan in the hospital. Where you were safe. Or… no. Something about that doesn’t feel right either, but then what was Crow –no, you– what were you supposed to have done, then?
Mortum is talking, you have to pull yourself out of your head to focus, to listen. “–of course he can be dangerous. So can I.”
The way she says that. Shivers down your spine.
“You– you don’t understand…” You shut your eyes tight, force yourself to swallow. Yeah those are… those are tears. Tears? Crying? Why?
When you open your eyes again, Dr. Mortum is still there. Still holding your hand. “Then explain it to me.” She doesn’t mention the tears. The borderline panic attack you’re struggling to hold in. Her voice is even. Clinical if not for the warmth of her concern.
“He.. he can get into your mind…” You grit your teeth. “He’ll know.” You need to stop this line of conversation. This is dangerous.
Dangerous? To who?
Stop.
Please.
“I already know that,” her voice is soft, subdued. “Or, rather, I suspected. You have to be at least psi-sensitive to use the armor. He just might be stronger than I had thought.”
You want to laugh at that. You don’t want to laugh at that. “You really have just… no idea.” No one does. And Crow– Macha?– You will keep it that way until it’s too late for them to stop… him? No… You? Fuck.
“I will tell you what I do know then. There are ways around that. I have experience with these things, which… I suppose is why he sought me out.”
“Yeah…” You take a deep breath, will your heart to slow down, your hands to relax. “Look, I’ll.. I’ll think about it… okay?”
“That is all I ask.” The doctor lets go of your hand as she sits back. “Bide your time if you need to; just do not trust him.”
That gets a half smile from you. “I don’t trust anybody.” You wince, cough again, covering your mouth. Dr. Mortum starts up to get another cup of water and you raise a hand to stop her, shaking your head. “It’s– I’m fine. So…” You clench your hands, unclench them. Repeat a couple times until your heart rate calms down. “What happened once…” You gesture helplessly.
The good doctor can’t help the pleased smile on her face. “Oh, there was a fight, of course. I have to say, the armor performed splendidly. The Rangers were no match.”
You try to smile. “Good. I… I hope my boss feels the same.”
“If there are any issues, at least we’ll have another excuse to meet.”
“I’m just…” You break her gaze, look down at your body. Prone. Helpless. You shake your head. No. Not this body. Not you. You’re safe here. Don’t forget. “I’m more worried they’d think I’ve done a bad job.”
“I doubt you capable of doing a bad job, ma chérie.”
You bite at your thumb, let the sharper pain of your teeth on skin call away from the broader ache of your whole body. “It worked, didn’t it? They got what they wanted. I hope.”
“Check the headlines first, ma chérie. They can reveal the mood of any villain.” She sighs. You suppose she would be an expert on the question. “So many do it for the thrill of having people quake in fear.”
Did Crow? –You mean you? Macha needed to make an impact. Get some solid cred. It… it wasn’t really about terrorizing people in itself right? Just a means to an end. What did he do? Are you forgetting something?
“Now,” Mortum pulls back you attention. “Why don’t we see about getting you out of here before there are questions to answer?” She glances back towards the door. “I could drive you home, if you wish.”
Again, the extra step. It feels weird. Wrong. But– Morrígan can have this, can’t she? Just because Crow can’t… it’s not fair to her. “Thank you… I’d like that.”
“I could call you a cab?”
You pull yourself up, feel the ghost of your usual confidence on your face already. “Backing out already?” Under the blanket you’re still in your dress. A little scuffed, but whatever, hey? You can just buy another.
“Not at all, ma chérie.” Her smile widens, eyes lighten. “I am at your service.” There’s the ghost of a memory there. Another time, another woman, another body, another life. Deja Vu. Or Presque? One of those damn french words. The doctor would know if you could ask her. The past always happening again for the first time.
Morrígan flinches and she slides to her feet, “We’ll see about that, hey?” She smirks, then snaps her fingers, hand held up in thought as she glances around. It takes a little work for the doc and Morrígan to gather her things, shoes, purse. Make sure she’s steady enough to walk. It’s tempting, Morrígan finds, to play up how out of it she feels. To lean on her a little more than strictly necessary.
Out of the private room, the dull roar of a hospital in crisis. Hallways packed with stretchers, men and women in mint scrubs and masks rushing through the hallways. Amazing what a block of wood could hide. Crow wouldn’t be able to take this chattering, you’re sure. The anxious faces of family members, the rows of triaged patients. Fewer serious injuries than Morrígan might have expected. It’s not like Macha went out of her way to protect people.
How much worse might it have been if Herald hadn’t rushed the bomb out of the building?
It doesn’t matter. These people can take a little worry. A small taste of what Morrígan– Crow– no damnit, you. A small taste of what you have had to deal with.
—
Why are you here? Why are you letting her drive you home? Letting her know where home is? Not like she almost certainly hasn’t had Morrígan tailed, but–
Just… just shut up, for once, Crow. Take in the city at night. So calm now, here winding out towards the edges of the reclaimed urbanization. Little lighthouses of streetlight blinking through the haze. You’d never think there was a still ongoing emergency. That there are people huddled in a hospital waiting to hear if their mother or brother, uncle, grandparent, is going to be okay. That there’s a hospital room where a broken Ortega is asleep, willing herself to pull together faster just so she can throw herself against the wall again. Idiot woman.
None of it feels real. Like it happened to someone else.
You bite your lip, that feels real. You’re real. This car is real. This– “This is a nice car you’ve got… why the limo earlier?”
You can see the white of her smile even as she keeps her focus on the road. “Because, ma chérie, a limousine makes for a more impressive entrance.” There’s a pause and then she adds, as if confessing, “And you never know when you might need a fast getaway.”
You giggle at that, hand over you mouth. “Looks like your instincts were right.”
“Oh, they usually are.” That flash of white smile again. “You need to trust them. The kind of business I do.”
You shift in your seat, watching her behind the driver’s wheel. “So…” Curiosity’s got you now, the killer. “What do your instincts tell you about me, hey?”
Mortum doesn’t respond at first, then: “That you are a deeply conflicted woman. –and, while you are… a very dangerous woman it would also be an interesting prospect to get to know you better.”
There’s that weird feeling in your chest again. “Conflicted? Me?” You try to laugh, but maybe it sounds a little too hollow. Maybe all of Morrígan’s words sound a little hollow. “I think you’ve got a bit of wishful thinking there.”
“Perhaps, It’s just a feeling I get. That… perhaps you feel a little bit trapped by fate.”
Morrígan fixes the good doctor with a stare. “No one… I am in control of my own destiny.”
“If you say so, ma chérie, if you say so.”
Morrigan frowns, doesn’t like how she says that.
Instead of pushing the issue, she taps her shoulder and gesture. “That way.” Almost home. Almost safe. Then it’ll be time to collect her other half. Oh. Oh she doesn’t like how she just phrased that to herself. Gross.
She shakes her head. Stop it. “Look, just– you can drop me off anywhere you can find a parking spot.”
“No car? How do you survive in this city?”
“I am a… very resourceful girl, my good doctor.” She can’t help the smile slipping across her face as Mortum pulls the car into an open spot along the street. Who would Morrígan even trust to teach her how to drive? In Los Diablos traffic no less.
“I can imagine.” The locks on the doors click up as Dr. Mortum puts the car into park. “Well, we’re here. Go, get some rest ma chérie. You look like you need it.”
“I will.” Morrígan’s throat is tight, painful. “Look… are you sure you don’t want to come up for some… uh, coffee?” It’s been a long night. Surely some caffeine is the least she can do for the doctor. For… For everything.
Dr. Mortum glances at you, then smiles. “I would not say no to that offer.”
“G-good!” Morrígan covers her mouth as she tries not to giggle again. “My, uh, my legs are still wobbly from that blast. And… there are a lot of stairs.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason they are wobbly?”
Oh. You bite your lip. “I walked right into that one, hey?”
“You sure did. But I will give you your hand up as a peace offering.” She gets out of the car, moving to your side of the car to offer you a hand as you step out. Her movement is a little stiff. Unsure? But she always seems so sure of herself, even when you knock her off balance.
You don’t let go over her hand, pull her along with you. “Right, follow me.” The stairs aren’t far. Just a single round. You… may have exaggerated the number.
The doctor follows behind you, the stairs too narrow to let you climb side-by-side. “I can’t say i expected to be allowed to see where you live just yet.”
You glance back at her as you stop before your door. “What? You haven’t had me under surveillance?”
“Maybe… If I had considered you a threat.” She leans against the railing as you search through your bag for your keys.
“Well, did you?” You shoot her a smile as you unlock the door.
“You can not truly expect me to answer that.”
“Well, not honestly.” You push the door open, invite her in with a swing of your arms.
Mortum winks at you. “And how would you ever know?”
You follow her inside, and shut the door. Kicking off your flats into a pile beside the door, you watch her as she looks around your apartment. Nerves running through your stomach. “Good talk.”
“Paranoia can be a helpful trait.” Dr. Mortum smiles at you.
“Can be your downfall as well,” You meet her gaze. “People need allies.” You wish that wasn’t true. Your life could be a lot simpler otherwise.
“Do you trust me then, ma chérie?”
“M-maybe. I’m taking a risk here. I just–”
“We both are… But some risks are worth taking.”
That gets a laugh. “I’ll drink to that.”
You walk to the kitchen, and Dr. Mortum follows behind you. Eyeing things but not touching, prying. “This looks like a nice place to live.” She says. Diplomatic.
“It’s small. But it gets the job done, hey?” You gesture a hand towards the kitchen table. Small, unused. You don’t have a lot of time to actually cook. “Go, go have a seat, don’t mind things gettin’ dirty. S’what they’re for.” You brush some of the remaining cement dust off your dress to underline your point.
“Thank you.” She takes a seat, still taking in the room, the space. You feel exposed. You’ve never put your hollow little life through a stress test quite like this before. “I wouldn’t have pictured you living like this.”
“Why?” Focus on making coffee. The thrum of water filling the pitcher.
“It’s too ordinary. You are anything but.”
You crack up. “Being that smooth can be dangerous, sweetheart.” You flip a button and turn back to see the sly grin on her face.
“Maybe I am dangerous.”
You watch her. No one else has sat where she’s sat. In any life of yours. Nothing about Morrígan’s life is real. Or Crow’s for that matter. Hollow artifice to fool the neighbors. This is… why did you…?
“Are you alright, ma chérie?”
“I’m– I’m fine.” Morrígan pinches the bridge of her nose. Rubs her face. “A little overwhelmed actually. A lot’s happened tonight.”
“If you’re too tired, just let me know. I’ll leave you alone for the night.”
Morrígan looks at her. She can feel the void stretching out between the two of them. That impossible chasm. “I… I really don’t want to be alone right now.” She flinches, that sounds pathetic. “I– I mean… I invited you here. For a reason. I want you here.” She pulls at the skin of her face. How bad is her make-up at this point? A wreck probably. Well, that’s fitting.
“I will trust you to tell me otherwise then.” Dr. Mortum visibly relaxes in her chair. You relax against the counter top. You didn’t– you didn’t fuck up then, saying that. “I do confess,” the doctor adds getting your attention again. “I sometimes have a hard time reading people’s intentions. Yours especially ma chérie.”
You smile politely. “I can’t believe that.”
“My secret is out.” She laughs. “i try to stick to business dealings. A… personal life is not something I have bothered with for a long while.”
There’s a tired weight to those words. Too familiar. “I feel that.” How long has it been since you even tried? Since you thought you could fake your way into humanity? There’s always been something wrong with you, with Crow. Even before Heartbreak ruined his life, ruined yours, you mean. A circuit not quite closed. Something defective in the core your being.
You’re making the same mistake Crow did over half a decade ago. Reaching out. Getting attached. You know how this bet will play out for Morrígan. It’s the height of foolishness to think that somehow, this time, it’ll be worth it.
“Luckily we…” Her words die in her throat as you kiss her, hands on her head to tilt her upwards. It’s quick, barely a more than a brushing of lips. Mortum stares up at you, her previous train of thought gone as she tries to collect herself “Well. Well!” She swallows. “And here I thought we were having coffee.”
“It’s brewing.” You smile back at her, take a step back. Heart pounding. What were you thinking? “So impatient. I should have made instant.”
“Heresy, ma chérie.” She covers her mouth in a mock gasp. It’s cute. “Don’t tell me your hiding decaf up there.”
“Look,” You raise your eyebrows at her, teasing. “Gotta keep those skeletons somewhere, hey?”
“And I thought I knew you.”
“Oh did you now?”
“Well. I would like to.” She stands up to her feet. It’s weird. Crow would almost certainly be taller than her, you think, and yet she has what must be a good half foot on you. “You are a fascinating woman.”
She reaches for you and you let her. Her hands on your shoulders. Not your first time like this, but Morrígan’s certainly. The thrum in your gut feels familiar but different. You feel different. But in a pleasant way. In how your body reacts, pulses? In how you want her to touch you – press against her. More holistic, an aperture brought into wider focus rather than zeroed down.
You keep expecting the brush of her hands, the press of her lips, to turn sour – alienating. That’s how it always works. The spines come out and you disengage and the other party spends weeks stressing over what they did wrong until the pain fades and you collide together again. Over and over in ablative, willful, stupidity. Trapped in swiftly decaying orbits.
Maybe it will be different this time.
So much else is.
Dr. Mortum isn’t… well…
And… You aren’t Crow, after all.
#fallen hero: rebirth#fallen hero#fhr#fallen hero fanfic#fanfiction#wlw fanfic#mc#the puppet#dr. mortum#fhr/Crow#long....
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strike / cora’s events
Prioritize everything else over Chandler. That’s what Cora’s mind was at. She didn’t need to think about what happened or what was currently happening because there were so many things to be freaked out about. All she needed was to make sure she had enough acting chops to pretend that she knew nothing and nothing was happening...until things started to happen.
The lights shut off first and then the emergency lights turned on. She wondered how far Chandler and his team were out, thinking that they were possibly sent out on a false thing, but April wouldn’t have sent anyone out on a false lead, or maybe she could have if the threat was that dire. They weren’t down too many good people but one of the things that Chandler did say was that she should trust no one.
Leaving her lab, Cora spotted April in a rush to the control center. That woman, even in a crisis, still managed to stay poised and commanding; Cora figured the best place to be was with her. Immediately entering, she could tell everything was being jammed. She wanted to go into panic mode immediately, stay in her corner and out of people’s way as they worked--what could she do? But the crap she’d get from Chandler if he found out she just stood there and did nothing was enough motivation to move, her decision coming at the right time as she saw someone else come into view.
“Director Chu!” she called out, quick to move as she pulled her superior down and out of the line of sight. The room erupted in chaos as agents pulled out their own weapons, but where shot down before they could even fire. Cora could barely figure out the make of the gun, knowing it was an assault rifle and counting the number of bullets being fired before she even took a look.
“Cora, you should not be out here, but thank you.” Cora turned to April and the women shared a reassuring smile with each other before turning back to the battle that appeared on their own turf. There wasn’t much that could be said but Cora knew that April was working out some sort of plan.
“No one else has to die,” a voice said and Cora recognized it immediately.
“It’s fucking Ryan, that shithole of a bastard,” she whispered, the two laying low. Of all people, it would be him. Cora quickly took out her phone, wondering how much the jammer was taken out as she could see the screen with the feed from Quantico was still up on the screen. She wondered if she could get a message to Mallory, because if there was anyone that could hack into a jammer, it would be her. She had to at least try.
Cora saw movement next to her and kept her protest to herself as April stood up, hands in the air.
“Agent Hunt. I assume you are working with former Agent Kantor who is currently infiltrating Quantico at this moment?”
“You assume correctly, Director.”
“I also assume you have multiple of agents in this building on your side and also holding other captive.”
“Correct.”
The steadiness in April’s voice amazed her, but that was also built on years of experience in dire situations, building that tough exterior. There was no doubt in her mind that they were going to make it out of this with April’s leadership.
Cora started to quietly crawl away, barely getting tidbits of the conversation because she was so focused on not being noticed. From what she could pick up, there were things about the government being wrong and the country in shambles. It wasn’t hard to pick up that both Ryan and the guy that Chandler was going to face were Iraq veterans, hardened by war. The mention of government intelligence being corrupt was the last it that Cora caught before she managed to get into Ryan’s blindspot. She managed to get a gun on her little crawl, checking the safety and the magazine before grasping it in her hands. It felt heavier than when she would hold one in the gun range, but the whole situation was a lot heavier than practice.
She took her breaths, glad that April was still Ryan’s main focus. She didn’t have a completely clear shot to the head and Cora wasn’t sure she had the stomach for that. She could still try, knick in him the shoulder at least and hope that it was enough for him to lower his guard for her to kick his rifle away, which she knew was on it’s last few shots. But there were enough shots left for Cora to be concerned. She started to squeeze the trigger, but hesitated the last second and aimed for his shoulder directly. His rifle fell to the floor in a loud clatter and Cora took another shot into his leg and to his hand that was reaching out again. Cora carefully got up from her spot and slowly moved her way to him, the gun still out in front of her. She got close enough to kick his weapon far away, closer to April who was now sporting her own weapon pointed straight at Ryan.
“You fucking bitch!” Before Cora could get another shot in, her gun was knocked out of her hand and she was pulled in with a knife at her throat. On the screen, she could see movement and fighting but it was too hard to focus on Chandler’s situation while she was behind held captive.
“Always knew you were the biggest dick, Hunt. Didn’t think you’d be the fucking terrorist to the country you swore to protect,” Cora said, trying to keep his arm off of her throat. All that training with Chandler had to kick in any moment.
“You wouldn’t understand. You benefit from all this shit. Getting whatever you want by pulling the minority card. The female card. You don’t even belong here, Logan. You are not an agent. You are not better than me.”
“You are such a thickheaded ignorant bastard. I never said I was better than you. I just work hard and if I do better than you, that’s your own damn fault. Not mine. But hey, you got me. Clearly, you’re better.” Cora’s brain was trying to figure out something when instinct finally kicked in. She knew that April wouldn’t take the chance to shot Ryan through her, especially knowing that he was more than likely suited up with kevlar. Cora just started to raise her hands in a gesture of capitulation, putting the safety on her own handgun before letting it fall to the floor and kicking it away. Yet as quickly as the metal was skating across the floor, Cora grabbed his hand (which was already wounded) and pulled the knife away from her throat, twisting out of his hold. Before she could get him in a lock, Ryan countered and the knife fell to the ground and they engaged in a fist fight, those dance lessons from Chandler to help with Cora’s footwork finally showing their results.
Cora’s mind just shut off, acting and reacting. It was all just pure adrenaline and she was just moving to avoid his right hook--a favorite she’s realized in all of the sparrings she’s witnessed and was privy to. Her focus was on the wounds she already inflicted, moving fast enough and hoping to knock him off balance. What surprised her, in the end, was that it wasn’t some nice swipe to the legs that finally got him down, but one angry right hook into his face--Cora couldn’t tell you what he goaded her with, but it was a punch that came from pure fury.
Other agents finally showed up to take the barely conscious defector away and Cora turned her attention to April and the screen, seeing as the power and connection was finally being restored.
“Are you okay, Agent Logan?” April asked as Cora made her way over.
“I’m fine,” Cora replied, slightly out of breath. “We have other things that are more important at the moment.” Chandler’s voice was coming out of the speaker and there was a lot they missed, but she was reassured knowing he was still alive. The feed connecting to Quantico itself was still broken, but whatever was jamming the signal out of HQ was gone. She just had to hope that Chandler was still okay.
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Secret (Final Rose)
Angela tried not to panic as several members of the Atlas Bureau of Special Affairs stepped into the interrogation room. However, any hopes she had of staying calm went out the windows when Jihl Nabaat walked into the room and sat down on the other side of the table.
“Good morning, Dr Ziegler.” Jihl’s voice and expression gave nothing away. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.”
Angela took a deep breath to compose herself. “The thought had occurred to me, yes. As far as I know, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Technically, you haven’t.” Jihl smiled thinly. “But I make a point of inserting at least one or two of my agents into every major hospital I can get access to. It’s amazing what you can learn.” She paused. “For instance, one of my agents happens to be a security guard at a hospital you’re working at. He just so happened to see something very interesting the other day, and he brought it to my attention.”
Angela went very still.
“It seems that you’ve not been entirely forthcoming with regards to your Semblance, Dr Ziegler. Atlas law requires all people with healing Semblances to register, in case their abilities are needed in times of emergencies.”
“I have registered my Semblance,” Angela replied.
“Yes, you have registered your healing Semblance. It’s actually one of the most powerful in the world. It is truly fascinating. I’m sure that’s at least one of the reasons that Professor Dia hired you. I have no doubt that she’s been poking and prodding you whenever she has the chance.”
“She might have. The professor is a very curious person.”
“Indeed, she is.” Jihl folded her hands together on the table. “But, you see, the law also requires people with healing Semblances to register any changes to their Semblance. You, Dr Ziegler, have recently unlocked the next level of your Semblance, and you’ve been practicing it at the hospital with some of the… well, I suppose patients isn’t the right word.”
Angela wanted nothing more than to get out of the room. Jihl knew. She actually knew.
“The ability to bring people back from the dead is a very powerful thing, Dr Ziegler.” Jihl’s smile widened. “I’ve never actually encountered someone with a Semblance like that although there have been rumours and legends over the years. Just think of all the possibilities…” Her gaze sharpened. “Your Semblance is an exceptionally useful tool, Dr Ziegler, and you tried to keep it secret from Atlas. That… aggravates me.”
Angela swallowed thickly. “I wasn’t ready to reveal it yet.”
“I see. Have you considered what would happen if your Semblance fell into the wrong hands? What would you do if terrorists or criminals captured you?” Jihl chuckled. “Not to mention what would have happened if news of your ability spread. People would come to you, begging and pleading for you to help them. I assume that your ability has powerful restrictions, but how would you manage them in the face of such attention?”
Angela didn’t say anything. She knew that Jihl was right. At the same time, however, what else was she supposed to do? She had to practice to perfect her Semblance. It was too powerful not to hone, but the consequences of it being discovered were…
Her scroll rang.
Jihl growled. “I thought you put jammers up. This room is supposed to be secure -”
An advertisement for Dia Technologies brand plush toys began to play over the speakers. Angela could almost have wept with relief.
“That damn fox…” Jihl hissed. She glared at Angela. “Answer your scroll.”
Angela activated her scroll. Professor Dia appeared on the screen with a mug of coffee and a donut. “Professor…”
“Hello, Angela.” Vanille grinned. “Jihl.”
“Can you turn that damn advertisement off?” Jihl asked.
“I guess so.” The professor tapped a button on the console beside her, and the music stopped. “When Angela didn’t show up for work this morning, I started to worry. Dr Ziegler is almost ridiculously punctual, and she always calls ahead if something is wrong. Being the kind, benevolent boss that I am, I just so happened to have tapped her scroll and put tracking devices and programs into it.” She shrugged. “Yeah, I do stuff like that all the time, Angela. You can thank me later. So… I’ve been listening in.”
Jihl glowered. “Now what?”
“I’ve already hacked the hospital security database. Any and all footage of Angela using her Semblance has been doctored to remove evidence of her actions. Trust me, even if someone goes looking, they’ll never be able to spot the modifications.” Vanille’s eyes narrowed. “But you do have a point, Jihl. If Angela can do what we think she can - and we’ll have to test it - this is big.” She glanced at Angela. “What are your limits.”
Angela gulped. She didn’t have much of a choice now. “I can bring someone back from the dead. At the moment, I need at least half of the body, and I have to use my Semblance within a day of them dying.”
Vanille gave a low whistle. “That’s pretty incredible. How often can you use it?”
“Once every three days or so,” Angela paused. “But… they come back at full strength.”
“Full strength?”
“Optimal physical condition with full Aura and everything,” Angela replied.
“That is something.” Vanille turned her attention back to Jihl. “Let Angela go. I’ll run containment across all digital formats. If anything has slipped onto the InfoNet, I’ll purge it or run misinformation.”
“Fine.” Jihl folded her arms across her chest. “But I can’t just let her walk out of this.”
“Of course not. You’re going to let her go today, so that we can have a nice, rational chat about this tomorrow.” Vanille smiled. “And you’re going to invite Jimmy. He might be a stick in the mud, but this falls under his jurisdiction, Jihl.”
The blonde woman gave another low growl. “Tomorrow then.” She looked at Angela. “Not one word of this, Dr Ziegler. Not one word of this leaves your lips. Anything and everything related to your Semblance is now classified, and revealing it to unauthorised personnel will be considered treason. Am I clear?”
Angela nodded.
“Now that we know what’s going on,” Vanille said. “I expect you to drive Dr Ziegler back to the lab here. Her work as a physician for the Personal Flight Armour project is essential.” She smirked. “On the way here, you can also stop for donuts. Dr Ziegler knows the place, and I’m about to run out.”
“Fine.” Jihl got to her feet and then paused. “Wait… how did you get into this building’s systems?”
Vanille grinned. “Jihl, if you look on the roof of this building, you’ll find a drone. It’s one of mine. It patched directly into the hardline for this building.”
Jihl made a disgusted sound. “I’ll make sure you can’t do anything like this again.”
“You’ll try.”
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Rhu Sheji, Pilot Extraordinaire (and Professional Prick)
Hey guys! So this is gonna be the first actual update, and it is unrelated to the preview from the last time I posted. I’ll put a link to ao3 here if you want to read it there instead. I’ll do this for every update as well. Anyway, onto the actually story, hope you enjoy!
Laughing, Rhu turned and looked Luange in the eye. “Look,” he smirked, “this is my price. I give you the goods, you give me the money. That simple. Not my fault you don’t have the money.”
“This isn’t the price we agreed on!” Luange exclaimed, distraught. “You told me 50,000 eln, not 100,000 eln! You doubled the price!”
“Did I now?” Rhu purred. “How do you intend to prove that? After all, there’s no documentation.” Rhu smirked, remembering Luange insistence that the… “transaction”… not be documented. What did the guy expect? He had to have known Rhu would take advantage of that, anyone would. If Luange didn’t learn that now, then the poor guy wasn’t going to survive the underground. Really, he should be thanking Rhu, he was teaching the kid the rules. No one keeps their word, always have something else to prove them right or wrong.
“I don’t have that kind of money!” Luange cried. Rhu knew this, of course he did. The kid’s father might have enough money, but he didn’t know about this deal. The kid did, however, have a nice ship. Rhu had seen it in passing when he was at the kid’s place. It was hidden, obviously in great condition. Probably something the kid had never even flown. It was beautiful, and Rhu wanted it.
Of course, Rhu couldn’t make that obvious, he wanted to fuck with the kid, hear him beg. It was twisted and messed up, but, so was Rhu. Anyone who knew him knew not to work with him. He was always trying to get more than people around him, and enjoyed messing with them. But no one reported him. No one could. He always made sure there was no proof of his misdeeds. Always. Last thing he wanted was a bounty hunter on his ass. Made smuggling shit harder.
Regardless, he had a ship to get.
“Well, then I guess you aren’t getting this medicine.” Rhu turned around again, smirking to himself. Any second now. He took a few steps when he heard it.
“Wait!” Luange shouted. “Just… wait. Please. I need that medicine. Is there anything, anything, I can give you? I really don’t want her to die…” Luange trailed off, staring at Rhu’s back.
Poor kid, you should never offer to give someone anything. That’s how you seriously fuck up your life. Rhu thought to himself, laughing a bit. After all, this kid wasn’t his responsibility, why should he cares what happens to him?
“Listen kid,” Rhu started, “I don’t have time for this. You wanna pay me in other ways, be my guest. But please, don’t waste my time. I have things to do.”
“I uh, I have this!” Luange said, taking his watch off. Fancy, yes, but not what he was looking for. Although, it was encrusted with crystals. Perhaps Rhu could take it as well.
“You think that thing is worth 50,000 eln? That’s not gonna cut it kid. Guess you don’t need this medicine after all?” Rhu smirked, tossing the bottle in the air repeatedly.
“NO! I mean yes I do need it but please, be careful with that! I need it for my sister!” Luange was starting to get desperate. He would’ve gone and gotten it himself, but it was only available on one planet legally. On his planet, it was banned because sometimes the side effects were deadly. But, his sister was in critical condition. That medicine was her only hope. He had to get the medicine or she would die and he would blame himself. “Look I have…” Luange hesitated, his desperation warring with his father’s warnings to never touch the ship in the back. It was a family heirloom of sorts. It had gotten all the latest updates, so it wasn’t really antique and it was worth loads of money. Maybe enough…? Luange thought.
“Tick tock. I’m starting to get impatient.” Rhu really wanted that ship, and he was going to get it one way or another dammit.
“I have a ship!” Luange blurted. To hell with his father, this was infinitely more important. “It has to be worth at least 50,000 eln, if I give you the eln and the ship, will we have a deal?”
“Show me this ship you speak of.” Luange lead the way to the garage. When Rhu saw the ship, he looked upon it with awe. It was beautiful. Shiny, sleek, and equipped with the quietest engine on the market. It was a masterpiece. He absolutely needed it.
“Hmmm… I’ll take it and the eln,” Rhu’s grin was malicious.
“It’s a deal.”
“Here’s the medicine.” Rhu tossed the bottle towards him. Luange fumbled a bit, but he managed to catch it and hold it close to his chest. Handing Rhu the keys and the eln, he quietly went to open the garage as Rhu went into the cockpit. Luange simply watched as Rhu flew into the night, hoping he had made the right choice.
~~~For the Night~~~
He had not made the right choice. He should have known better than to trust that prick. He was a thief for fucks sake! What Rhu had tossed him that day was not the medicine he needed, rather it was a diluted version. Rhu had to have known that, but the fucker hadn’t decided to tell him. Now all Luange had to show for his efforts was a missing ship, a lack of 50,000 eln (admittedly not a lot when compared to how much his father had), and a dead sister. It was all that asshole Rhu’s fault and he deserved to be brought to justice, but how?
Luange couldn’t go to the authorities, then they would know about the deal and Luange would get in trouble as well. And, in addition to that, there wasn’t any proof. Well no proof except his watch.
What Rhu hadn’t known was that the pretty watch that Luange offered him actually had a mini camera and mic embedded in it. The crystals on it acted as amplifiers for the signal to the computer it was connected to, allowing Luange to be able to record from virtually anywhere on the planet. They were so strong, in fact, that they managed to break through almost any signal jammer.
When Luange went to check the computer to see if the recording were there, he was delighted to see that they were. The damning evidence was there, now what to do with that? Luange smiled as the thought came to his head. How about a bounty on Rhu’s head? A life for a life.
Hope you guys liked it! As Nyx already said, we will put tw in the tags and such. If you think we miss any, let us know! We really don’t want to harm someone through our work.
As always, likes and reblogs are welcome, but reposts are definitely not. If someone is reposting please let us know, especially if it’s on instagram. Thank you!-Tash
#tash#an actual update#finally#Rhu Sheji#tw:minor character death#it's only hinted at#and it's off screen#better safe than sorry#side stories
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