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skeletonsloverockcandy · 4 years

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A Hitchhiker’s Guide For Androids

Summary: Logan is an AI that has escaped to Cardinal Valley, a lovely mountain town, and needs a job and a place to stay.

Warnings: Threats, censored cursing, stabbing mention, gore mention, violence, violence mention, deceit mention, food mention, Logan having a weird robot body and doing robot things, high stakes, stress, hostage situation, crying, potential breakdown.

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan/Logic, Patton/Morality, Roman/Creativity, Remy/Sleep, and Emile Picani

Pairings: Implied romantic Remile

Word Count: 5,230

Chapter One

Chapter Two: Job Searching

Logan watched as the bus pulled away from the station with the sunlight glinting off its metal back, then began trotting towards the center of town. Cardinal Valley had a thriving downtown area with a clustered grouping of specialty shops and studio apartments. There was a mix of rustic, brick, two-story buildings with old ads from a time long gone painted on their sides, and newer, sleeker, glass-paneled complexes littered in the area. It suggested rich local history and modern advancement corroborating to create a charming blend of aesthetics. Trees lined the sidewalks and traffic medians, tastefully separating the road from the shops and foot traffic, and providing a comfortable spot for shade as benches were intermittently placed underneath. Whenever a breeze blew by, dewy drops of water from that morning’s rain shook off the trees, the sunlight catching it as it cascaded down. It made the top of Logan’s head and new shirt slightly damp again, not that he minded all that much. He was waterproof after all. Most of the shops had plants around them, from their windowsills, to sitting in pots framing the doorways of the buildings. They were surrounded by flora. The majority had hanging gardens in small baskets held up by chains to a small hook in the awning of the establishment. They held anything from herbs, to succulents, to bunches of geraniums hanging in their pots. The shops themselves seemed colorful and pleasant too, providing a range of looks meant to attract their target customers. The shopkeepers cheerful, sweeping the fronts of their establishments or tending to tables and other things, never hesitated to send a hearty wave towards the potential customers milling about the sidewalk, as well as their fellow shopkeepers.

The town was surrounded on most sides by gentle sloping mountains coated in pine trees and could be viewed from the center of town. They formed the horizon beyond the buildings and cradled the area in a gentle embrace.

As Logan strolled down the sidewalk he took all these things in, appreciating the comforting appeal of his new town of residence. His hand was secure on his plastic bag of clothes and he adjusted his new glasses as he quickened his pace towards the center of town.

He passed a trash bin as he walked and he paused for a moment to look in it. Ah, there! He pulled out a recently disposed of paper from that day and sat on one of the benches that were underneath the sidewalk trees. His eyes scanned back and forth on the paper until he found what he was looking for. Apartment listings.

He looked for one that had minimal appliances since he didn’t need to cook, and minimal room since he didn’t take up that much space. He also did not have that much money right now, so he had to invest in what he could afford. He found one with his requirements and took note of the phone number printed in the listing. Logan took out the phone he had stolen and turned it on. He frowned at it because he was perfectly capable of communicating through other means by himself, but this was the simplest form of communication with his current predicament, and the last thing he wanted to do was appear suspicious. Thankfully for him, talking on the phone is very rarely suspicious, but seeming to talk to yourself...that’s another story. Then people begin to question your mental stability. He shook his head slightly, he would just have to deal with his bruised pride, even if it meant relying on lesser technology, that’s why him and Dr. D stole the phone in the first place after all.

He dialed the number on the newspaper and waited for the line to pick up. Within seconds a woman’s voice came on the phone. Logan inquired about the apartment’s availability and its price. After discussing the matters with the landlady and determining the affordability of the first month’s rent, he affirmed his interest in the apartment and set up a time later that afternoon to meet up at the complex it was located and finalize his decision to purchase with her.

He hung up the phone and just looked out at the city for a moment. It was so different from the lab. It was so alive. Before he had escaped he had never seen a plant or other living creature other than the scientists. He knew what they were, of course, because what good was an espionage robot without basic human knowledge. But being here, free, and surrounded by life for the first time, it made something stir in him that his processors were whirring to figure out. It caused his internal wiring to heat, but it didn’t feel bad, and despite there being logically no reason to, Logan felt the urge to smile. And he did. He allowed himself to sit a moment and smile.

Okay, moment of reprieve over, back to the task at hand. If Logan was going to live on his own and rent an apartment, that meant finding a source of income would be the next necessary thing for him to do. He had to get a job, preferably sooner rather than later. He flipped through the newspaper to look at job listings and took note of a few near the location of his soon-to-be apartment. That was where he would look first.

He walked deeper downtown and stashed the newspaper neatly into the bag that held his new clothes. Logan walked by a few potential establishments. A bank, a cell phone repair shop, and a Game Stop for instance, and he started his job hunt.

He left with varying levels of success in a venture that took nearly 3 hours among just those three establishments. The bank turned him away because of his lack of credentials despite his claims of being excellent with numbers. The cell phone repair shop seemed impressed by his knowledge pertaining the inner workings of machines, but was dissuaded by Logan only possessing a licence and no other legal paperwork or references. And the Game Stop apologised because the news ad was old and they had already filled up the position with someone else.

Walking away from his preferred potential places of employment, he started expanding his reach and looking elsewhere.

As he turned a corner, something caught his eye. Help Wanted: See Applications Inside, was hand-written on a sign with a smiley-face drawn at the bottom. Logan looked up at the building of his good fortune and his face fell. It was a soft-pink painted building with a powder-blue, ribboned awning. It looked like one of the older brick buildings of the area that had been refurbished. It had windows lining the front wall around the glass door that were slightly more narrow than those of the surrounding buildings and they had powder-blue wooden shutters to match the awning. The glass door had potted ferns on either side and made the whole thing look more rustic. Chairs and tables stood politely in groups under the awning and people were sitting in them, drinking coffee, eating sweets, or laughing, but that wasn’t the thing that stopped Logan. Different pop-culture characters were painted in simplistic forms on the wall and the door. Finally, over the awning but below the windows of an in-shop apartment in neat cursive print were the words Cartoon Café.

Logan sighed a bit to himself, this was not the ideal place he would want to be employed, but he wasn’t one to turn up his nose at an opportunity, and it was getting late, so he might as well try one last place before meeting with the landlady and trying again tomorrow.

He opened the door with a small jingle and was surprised to find the inside seemed more spacious. He took a second to look around the interior of the café. The inside seemed to have a mismatch of furniture. Couches lined one wall and stuffed animals of different cartoon characters including Pikachu, Stitch, and Mickey Mouse among others, were piled on top of them. The tables and chairs were vivid pastel colors, and more pictures from cartoons lined the walls with an assortment of Disney, Cartoon Network, and Nickelodeon classics. Customers were sitting in chairs eating and chatting, or else snuggling on one of the couches with their laptops and taking advantage of the free wifi. A few were even cuddling the stuffed animals while nursing a mug of hot tea. The customers in the establishment added to its particular aesthetic as well. Most of them looked college-age and wore a variety of clothing, mostly Tees and hoodies referencing various animes and cartoons as well . It was as if the customers themselves were handpicked to fit the theme of the establishment. Interestingly enough there was also a decent grouping of young children there with their parents, which was more expected given the place’s appearance. Though there were a few people that didn’t seem to fix image of the establishment at all, such as a pair that was sitting at a small table near the register and quietly bickering. One had a black and purple hoodie on with dark eyeshadow under his eyes and dyed purple hair, while the other wore a white varsity jacket with red sleeves and wore more subtle, less depressing makeup on his face. There was also an individual leaning against the counter where the register was and looked hipster-esque with a plaid black-and-white flannel tied around their waist, black skinny jeans, sunglasses, and a white T-shirt that read B*tches Need Beauty Sleep. All this while sipping on an iced coffee in a plastic cup, completing the image. Interesting group of customers to say the least.

Finally Logan looked at the counter to view a long line of customers ordering at the register. The counter held a display filled with different cartoon themed sweets, such as Fire Nation Fudge, and Bugs Bunny’s Homemade Carrot Cake, and the beverage menu was filled with several more examples of pun-filled, cartoon-themed food names. The employee running the register was roughly average height, a bit on the shorter side, wearing a light blue polo shirt and round glasses. He had dirty blond, curly hair, freckles dotting his face, and hazel eyes. As he tended to each customer he displayed a bright and peppy demeanor, and through the gentle hum of conversation in the café, Logan could hear the employee cracking jokes and making puns. He felt indifferent towards the use of humor by the employee, but could recognize the charm the man had that enthralled the other customers laughing with him.

Logan went ahead and stood in line with the other customers because it would be impolite to skip even for an application. Eventually the line windled down and he was in front. The peppy man in blue spoke.

“Hiya kiddo! What can I get for you today?”

“No, I apologize for the misunderstanding, but I do not actually wish to purchase anything today.” The employee looked at him confused before Logan continued.

“I wish to inquire about the sign in the window indicating an available job position, I was wondering about securing an application.” The employee’s face lit up and a huge grin stretched upon his features and began to excitedly shake his hands.

“Oh my goodness! You’re here for the job interview? That’s fantastic! We’ve had a few people apply already, but if you get the position, I can’t wait to get to know you! I love love LOVE meeting new people!” Logan looked on at the open display of mirth with a bit of a loss of what to do. He was not yet good at dealing with exuberant displays of emotions, but he would just have to manage.

“Ah...yes, as I said, I would like to apply for whatever position you have open. Can I receive an application?”

“I don’t know kiddo, can you?” The man smiled a bit at his joke. Logan took a breath to regain his patience and tried not to roll his eyes (D’s habits had rubbed off on Logan while they were together) before he responded.

“My mistake. May I receive an application?” The employee giggled at Logan.

“Oh sure, you know I’m just messing’ with you right, kiddo? I’ll get that for you right away. Then after you fill it out, you can schedule an interview with my boss, Emile. Though he might prefer it if you call him Dr. Picani.”

“Doctor..?”

“Oh yeah! He has a PhD in psychology, but he’s taking a break from the practice to follow one of his other dreams for now.”

“Thank you, that cleared up some of my confusion.” Logan stated. As the employee reached under the counter to grab an application, he suddenly started.

“Oh I just remembered! How rude of me! I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Patton! The proudest Patton papá to perpetuate this place of p..work? (Darn lost it) Pastries! That’s it!” He laughed at his alliteration, “But you can just call me Patton, or dad, whatever suits your preference! (Yes, got another P word).” He muttered the last bit to himself.

Logan again struggled to keep his composure.

“Why would I call you..? You know what, never mind. Thank you for the introduction Patton, now can I please have the application?” He tried not to sound exasperated. Goodness gracious, usually he would be putting extra effort into expressing these perceived emotions to sell his supposed “human nature”, but here he was doing all he could to reign it in. Patton laughed a bit.

“Yepperoni! Coming right up mister..?”

“Logan.”

“Alright Logan! Coming right up!”

Just then Logan heard a slight disturbance behind him before he was roughly shoved away from the counter and onto the ground. A man in a denim jacket stepped in front of him and drew a knife, grabbing Patton by the collar of his shirt pointing it at him over the counter before yelling in his face.

“Gimme all the money in the register, now!” Patton began to stutter.

“B-b-but sir I..I-” he managed to get out before being cut off.

“Did I freaking stutter? Money. Register. Now! Or I’ll cut you open!” Several of the patrons stood up in shock, including the one in the varsity jacket, but the one with the eyeshadow was holding him back and whispering at him hurriedly. Patton responded to the situation by putting his hands up in surrender and yielding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll open up the register. Just please don’t hurt anyone, I’ll get the money.”

“Yeah, you better or else someone’s guts are gonna be all over the floor.” Patton visibly swallowed, and with shaky hands started to open the register. The customer with the sunglasses sat down his coffee and started inching towards the back room of the café. The aggressor saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes and shouted.

“NOBODY F***ING MOVE OR THIS GUY GETS SKEWERED!” with a frantic and wild look in his eyes. The man with the sunglasses held up his hands and said,

“Okay, nobody’s movin’ babes, you do you, just don’t hurt the guy.”

“That’s better,” the aggressor said, “but I’ll hurt him if I f***ing want to.”

A man in a pink polo shirt with brown pants and glasses started coming out from the food preparation area, looking slightly bewildered before shock lined his face, and the man with the sunglasses made a motion with his hand to try and shoo him back to where he was. The man in pink nodded slightly but seemed unable to move as he witnessed the scene in front of him. Patton began unlocking the register the best he could while the aggressor was still gripping the collar of his shirt, and it was at this time, having witnessed the scene thus far, that Logan slowly began getting up. He didn’t want the scene to get out of hand, so he’d try to de-escalate the situation the best he could.

“Excuse me,” he spoke, “if you are short on funds, there are other ways of acquiring money that don’t involve threatening people.” The aggressor turned to look at him.

“Listen man, if you don’t shut the hell up I’m gonna stab you instead.” The knife was still pointed at Patton.

“I find that unlikely, but I do know that murder is far worse a charge than armed robbery, and I doubt you desire life in prison.” At this point the aggressor whipped around and lunged towards Logan while shouting, “UGH BE QUIET!”

Logan has anticipated this and began to apply his self-defense programming. He pivoted on his heel so his body was parallel to the attacker trying to stab him, then grabbed the wrist with the knife and the nape of the man’s neck, next he directed the attacker’s body towards the ground, placing his knee on the other man’s back to restrain him, then rolling his wrist slightly to make him drop the knife, and finally kicking the knife away from the two of them. Simple step-by-step process.

The café was dead silent. Shocked faces marked the customers and the staff. It was as if they were frozen. Seeing their inaction, Logan gently prompted them.

“Would someone like to contact the authorities?” The man in pink was the first that seemed to break from their collective daze.

“Y-yeah, I’m on it,” he said before walking into the back room for the telephone.

Logan looked up and surveyed the room before his eyes landed on the man with the varsity jacket.

“You. Can you help me retrain this criminal until the authorities arrive?” The man who had been held back by his more glum looking friend, now was looking at Logan with abject surprise and his arm slowly raised to gesture at himself.

“Yes, I mean you. Now if you will please, can you and your friend help me?”

The man in the varsity jacket stepped forward with the man in the hoodie following apprehensively. The aggressor struggled vainly, as Logan weighed quite a bit, cursing at the three of them before he seemed to accept he wasn’t getting away and he sagged in defeat. Logan directed the two on how to hold him without him getting away, then he let go.

The crowd finally appeared to break from their stupor and an outcry of relief rung out. The man in pink, who Logan assumed to be Patton’s boss, Dr. Emile Picani, came out of the back room announcing he had called the police and they were on their way. Then he ran up to the man in sunglasses and embraced him in a bone-crushing hug. Logan overheard his rushed speech as he talked to the other man.

“Remy! Are you alright? That was terrifying! You handled it so well, oh goodness, I’m so glad you’re okay.” The man with the sunglasses, Remy apparently, hugged Emile back and took a long shaky breath.

“You know me babe, always cool as a cucumber. You know I had everything handled, right gurl?” He held Emile out at arms length and pulled down his glasses so he could see his sincerity. Emile laughed shakily in relief and hugged him again, though less constricting than the previous time.

Patton was still behind the counter, gripping his heart and breathing heavily. Logan tentatively approached the counter and waited for Patton’s breathing to regulate. After a minute his breathing slowed to an almost normal pace and he looked Logan in the eyes, coming back into himself.

“Patton, are you alright?” Logan inquired.

“That...was the scariest thing...I have ever...experienced…in my life,” Patton said, “I almost died, and you...you saved me…” Tears began welling in his eyes. “Logan, you saved me! Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” He reaches over the counter and hugged Logan. Logan stiffened, he almost irrationally feared Patton feeling his metallic endoskeleton, before reasoning that that was a perfectly rational concern, however, unlikely to occur because he trusted he was made well enough to pass for a human by touch as well. He straightened his glasses before awkwardly attempting to hug Patton back giving him a gentle pat of comfort.

Before he could recover from the hug though, Patton reeled back and half-heartedly slapped Logan in the arm.

“Hey!” It didn’t hurt, but it was the principle.

“Don’t you dare do that again! You could have died! He could have stabbed you! It’s scared me half-to-death!” He looked fierce now, a fire in his eyes, alight with concern and compassion. He softened though at the overwhelmed look Logan had on his face from the emotional whiplash.

“But honestly Logan, thank you. Without you I could have been a Patton-pancake. Oh! A Patton-cake if you will.” He laughed shakily for a moment. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you just say the word, And I promise I’ll do it.” He looked at Logan earnestly. Logan was almost at a loss for what to say. Almost.

“Your gratitude is much appreciated Patton, but you really don’t have to do anything for me. However, I would still like an application for the job opening.” Patton looked at him for what felt like ages before breaking into real, genuine laughter, so much that he almost doubled over. Logan could not for the life of him figure out what was funny. Eventually though, Patton caught his breath.

“I..” he laughed, “comPLETELY forgot that was why you came here. And..and,” he said breathlessly, “I don’t know why that’s so funny, but yes! Yes! You can have an application! Ha ha!” he said as he handed it over the counter to Logan, “here you go kiddo, your application!” He wipes his eyes, barely managing to get the sentence out and Logan couldn’t tell if it was mirth or hysterics, “Make sure...make sure,” he laughed, “you come back tomorrow for your interview.”

Logan took the paper from Patton and was clueless as to how he could help the man. He looked on the verge of a breakdown due to the trauma of the experience. Hoping to distract himself, Logan quickly filled out the application and handed it back to Patton, who seemed finally to have stopped laughing and was instead sniffling in his sleeve. Logan awkwardly patted Patton’s arm in a comforting gesture before sliding him the paper back across the counter.

Logan checked the Doctor Who clock on the wall that read Wibbly Wobbly, Timey Whimy just as the sirens from the police could be heard outside. Upon hearing the sirens, both the hoodie-clad man and the man in the varsity jacket, holding down the miscreant, visibly relaxed. As soon as the police came in and handcuffed the man, the two holding him down rushed to go check on Patton. Logan let out a sigh of relief. At least there would be someone, or two someones, to make sure Patton was in the right emotional state. Feelings were somewhat foreign to Logan, and though trained to identify them, he was not sure how to cope with consoling others, so best leave this in the hands of the other humans, they were feelings professionals after all. He looked at the inside of the café one last time to ensure everything was alright then left before the police could stop and question him. One, he did not want to be publicized, and two, he needed to leave now or else he would be late meeting the landlady to discuss his potential apartment.

The walk to the apartment complex was quiet, and in the setting sun, one could almost forget the events of the day. It had been a long day for Logan. He escaped, took on a new identity, skipped town, arrived in a new one, applied to four jobs, stopped a robbery, and set out to rent an apartment. It was a good thing his battery could last 48 hours or he would be half-way unconscious by now if he were human.

Finally he arrived at the complex and met the landlady. Even getting the cheapest apartment available in the complex, he was only barely able to pay the first month’s rent upfront with the remaining money he had. He really hoped he could secure a job soon. At least he didn’t need to eat.

The landlady, her name was Sandra, gave Logan the keys to his apartment, and he thanked her. He began the climb up the stairs to the fourth floor and looked around when he finally reached the landing. The landing was plain, but clean, and had light brown painted walls and hardwood flooring with a long rug stretching the length of the hallway on top of it. There were four total apartments on this landing and Logan’s was the closest to the stairs. Apartment 4A was also the smallest apartment on the landing, but Logan was intentional about his decision to rent it. It would be impractical for a machine that doesn’t eat to own a kitchen after all.

He inserted the key he was given into the lock and opened the door. The apartment was small as expected, but like everything else so far in the complex, thankfully clean. The walls were the same light brown as the landing, and the floor had dark brown hardwood paneling. The place was unadorned except for a small table and a couple chairs that served as a dining area, and a bit further in, one stiff armchair and a coffee table that sat on top of a worn rug. The single bedroom was in the back and connected to the one bathroom. He sat down his few possessions on the coffee table (the phone, the wallet, the bag of clothes), and walked over to the bedroom. In it was a twin sized bed with some clean sheets folded in a pile on top, a small wooden dresser, and a chair in the corner. Logan felt it was unnecessary to check out the bathroom at this time, all he wanted to do was make the bed and recharge. He pulled out the fitted sheets from the pile and put them over the mattress, then repeated the process with the other sheets. Then he sat on the bed, then glanced around the bedroom. Finally he spotted what he was looking for, an outlet. It was by the window in his room. Darn, luck seemed to have failed him in having one next to the bed. Oh well, he could always move the bed later. For now, he would simply pull up the chair in the corner and sit by the window. Logan pushed the chair into position so at least he’d get a nice view of the street below, then he pulled up his pant leg. Reaching at the spot between the calf and the ankle, Logan pressed down with a slight click before a minute panel swung open on a hinge. Logan felt inside the opening for a bit before pulling out an extension cord. Making sure he didn’t have to adjust his sitting position any further, Logan pulled at the cord and plugged himself in.

He sighed very unnecessarily and gazed out the window at the almost completely set sun through the spaces between buildings and the trees on the apex of the mountainside that created the horizon. The view really was quite beautiful. Logan briefly glanced back at his room. Well, he’d fix it up eventually, but that could wait until he could afford it, for now he was content looking at the sunset.

He didn’t realize how long he’d been staring until the first street lamps came on. He had been people-watching far past dusk and felt odd at having not paid attention if his surroundings for once. He felt even more odd when he looked up. There were thousands of twinkling stars above him, and Logan felt figuratively speechless. He knew about planets and stars and solar systems, and could name most of the major constellations an average person would know, but he had never seen them for himself. He felt that not-bad heat filling his system again as he tried to process what he was experiencing and believed it to be awe. He attempted to recount everything thing he knew about stars before coming to the conclusion that the facts he knew weren’t sufficient, the scientists simply did not care that much about astronomy. That simply wouldn’t do. Something this fascinating deserved to be learned and known about. He was in the middle of reconnecting himself to the internet to learn as many astronomy facts as possible, when he heard footsteps coming up the stairwell.

Logan turned his head in the direction of the hallway, first trying his thermal vision, then his X-Ray, before coming to the conclusion that the walls were simply too thick. So he settled on setting his sound sensitivity incrementally higher until he could hear whoever was there as if he was in the hallway with them. He cued into the middle of a conversation.

“...telling you! I would have fought brave and gallantly. No criminal would have stood a chance!” A booming voice rang out.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself Sir-stupid-a-lot, you’re a theater kid, not a heavyweight wrestling champion.” A softer, but more cutting voice responded.

“A theater kid who owns a sword!” The voice said aghast.

“A novelty sword, my point still stands.”

“Be nice Virgil, Roman was very brave today! But you two are both my heroes. Did you see the way you held down that guy? And when the police came, you were very cop-erative. Like cooperative? Because they were cops.” There were giggles followed by a snort and a soft groan from each of the other two.

“Yes padre, we get it. But let's not forget how brave you were! Keeping your cool like Mulan staring down the Hun army. That’d be nearly unthinkable in a situation like this! Something like that takes quite a bit of nerve.”

“Yeah Pat, that must’ve been terrifying. Are you still...good?” The softer voice asked tentatively.

“Aw, thank you Virge. I’m mostly fine now, just a bit shaken up. But I never let a case of the jitters get me down! I’ll be okay.”

“Ah, well, after an eventful day, a Prince must have his beauty rest. So I must bid thee farewell, though parting is such sweet sorrow.” The loud voice announced dramatically.

“Yeah, same here Patton, I’m beat. But if you need anything, just come over and ask okay? We’re here for you.”

“Awww, you bet! Goodnight kiddos!”

“‘Night Pat.”

“~Adieu my fine friends, I will see you in the morning.”

Three separate doors clicked shut and Logan returned his hearing sensitivity to normal. He attempted to process what he just heard. Patton, the person he saved today, and possible new coworker, and the two people who helped him restrain the criminal in the café (Roman and Virgil apparently) lived in the same apartment as him. He placed his palm over his face at the irony of the universe. Then he slid his hand down and breathed out through his nose. Well, it looked like Logan had new neighbors.

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years

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Blame It on Your Beats

Bucky x Reader Series

Chapter Content: Fluff

Summary: A brush with the underworld leads you on a run, away from what was supposedly your normal life, with Bucky Barnes. You two do not seem to be in sync as Bucky tries to keep you alive, trying your best not to kill each other. Or that’s what you think you are doing.

Series: contains smut, adult content in there somewhere in the future chapters so please look at the chapter content and warnings before you proceed.

Chapter Warnings: Explosion, death threats. The usual, really.

A/N: This series is written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme ‘s MK Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for hosting. I am having a lot of fun with the prompts. I hope I can do justice to them and put the entire series up before the deadline. :D

JBB tags, please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in further chapters.

MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you don't need glasses?”

“...No.”

“It's okay if you do. It's quite common at this age.”

“Shut up, Stark,” Bucky declared through the comms, getting stifled laughs from the other end.

“It's in another language. I'm not familiar with the Devnagri script,” the soldier murmured as he sifted through the pages in the journal in front of him to find some sort of code to decipher the words alien to him.

“Friday can trans-wait you don't have a body cam,” Stark was practically talking to himself right now.

Bucky had been sent down on an espionage mission to Brennwood Estate- home of Eton Brennwood, world’s current strongest business tycoon along with a back-end dealer in arms in the black market along with being an infamous hoarder of the ancient artefacts- to figure out the codes for Eton’s underground lab where he had been keeping scientists to develop a new biotech for some really shady buyers around the world.

Natasha and Bucky had been the only choices amongst the entire team, considering their skills, but the former had already been compromised due to her recent recon on Brennwood where she had played a key role in finding out when and where the businessman was keeping his experiments hidden and his buyers on their toes regarding whatever he was considering of bringing on the table.

“Send us a picture, Bucky,” Natasha's voice directed him.

Bucky suddenly froze for a moment, his eyes darting towards some unknown void in front of him as his heartbeat accelerated a bit.

“Bucky?” Steve called out for confirmation, making the sergeant reach inside his jacket to take out his phone and stare at it for one elongated, terrifying moment.

“You do know how to take a picture from your phone, right Buck?” Sam asked, his voice dripping in pure mischief, making Bucky curse at the man internally.

Burner phones were so much easier to deal with. Why did everything have to ‘smart’ now? Was his only thought.

He flinched as the screen on his phone lit up with an unknown number asking him to video call.

“Uhh…”

“It's me,” Tony spoke in his ear, “slide the lock on the screen to accept my call so we can translate the code for you.”

Following his simple and clear-cut instructions, Bucky managed to flip the screen towards the journal on his second try, getting an encouraging cheer from all the Avengers huddled together in the Quinjet around the screen.

“Okay, that’s it,” Tony announced as he shifted in his chair to reveal a tired Pepper enter the study from behind him, “good job Barnes. Let others take care of the rest. Get out of the estate now before they smell out the old man stink and find you.”

“Very funny, Stark,” Bucky mumbled as he ended the call by tapping the red button, a little happy on the inside that his relationship with Tony was making some progress these days.

And just like the silent breeze that was blowing over the trees, not making its presence felt till it had passed by him, leaving him comparatively colder than before, he made his way out of the heavily guarded estate, taking the dark forest trail towards the road about a few miles from the place where he had parked his bike.

He kept getting the updates over the comms, as the team infiltrated Eton’s lab, making his walk back a lot less tiring when Sam was not on his back quipping him about everything he did.

“No guards on level one,” Sam’s voice stated over the comms, “Brennwood better not have hired some ripped scientist to save on security guards. That is one really bad combination right there.”

“Excuse me?” Banner’s questioning voice came from beside Tony. He had clearly taken over from where Tony had been a few moments ago.

“Because they are strong and smart. Not to mention they can make any freaking poison at the turn of their hand, man.”

Bucky forced out a silent laugh.

“Yeah, makes it hard for Sam to jump up to their IQ level with just his fists,” he articulated.

“I have a suit, I can fly over their goddamn IQ and look good while doing it. Shut up, Barnes.”

Tony was watching the progress of the team while convincing Pepper that there was no chance of him missing their dinner date tonight as everything was going smoothly and the team would have all the evidence to put Eton behind bars for a long time.

“Tony,” Pepper enunciated, “don’t promise me things that are sure to turn ugly sooner or later, okay? We can have dinner over here and Bruce can join us-”

Bruce turned in the chair-away from the screen- on the mention of his name, his face filled with berries that he was eating from the bowl Tony had offered him.

“I thought we had a date. Why would Bruce join us on a date? Are-are you breaking up with me?”

Pepper’s expression went blank for a second.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Tony, we’ve been married for a year now. I am not breaking up with you,” she sighed.

A monotonous chime over the screen turned everyone’s attention to a signal coming out from the Avenger’s facility.

“Level two clear,” Natasha responded from the other side, her body cam showing no heat signatures on the floor...

Bruce looked at Tony regarding the unknown signal before accepting the call.

“Level three clear,” Steve announced, “guys, I don’t like it.”

Bucky’s pace slowed down a bit before he regained his normal gait.

“I agree with Steve,” Natasha acknowledged, “there’s no one in sight here. Not even the scientists. Tony, did we decipher the text correctly?”

Everyone who was not at Tony’s place at that point paused their movements when they did not get a quick reply from Stark.

“Tony?” Steve spoke next, a hint of worry in his voice that only Bucky could trace.

“Barton,” Clint’s mechanical voice came over the comms, confusing everyone for a second.

“Clint?” Natasha’s voice tried to reaffirm, “I thought you had gone home for the holidays.”

“...I am home for the holidays. Which one of you morons called me? I lost to my son in Mario Kart so whoever it was, better have some good explanation behind this.”

__________

“How can something be so beautiful?”

You exhaled as your eyes took in the beauty of the symbols laying down in front of you- the thick papyrus dating back centuries- making you squirm internally at the luck of not being able to read and preserve one with your own eyes and hands.

“Miss Friday” you called out into the air, a jump in your step, “could you please pull up Miss Dur’s instructions on how to go ahead with the preservation process?”

“Of course, Miss Y/L/N. You can just call me Friday. If you want I can help you out by walking you through Miss Dur’s entire preservation process.”

You chuckled as your hands went into your bag to take out your earphones. “I’ll call you Friday when you call me Y/N. And I’m good with the display though. I want to enjoy a bit of my playlist tonight while working. So, just make sure you I don’t get any messages on my display while I’m working; no matter how important. No hard feelings, my good AI?”

“No hard feelings, Y/N.”

You gave a thumbs up in the air before putting on your earphones and readying the chemicals to wash the papyrus that would help conserve its original content.

Once all the contents were ready, you pressed play and so began the curing process to the surreal beats going about in your head.

It seemed like a passing dream.

A month ago you were studying on an entirely different continent, getting through your second year in college with no perfect plan for the future. A double major in semiotics and cryptography had seemed like a brilliant idea before college when most of the professors didn’t seem like dull creatures keeping an eight am class just so they could spit their misery of leading a sad unhappy life unto you, making you nearly hate the subject you had been looking forward to. Had it not been for a few of your seniors, three to be specific, and one professor- who not only helped you through the entire ordeal, but also made sure you were displaying your untapped talent in different competitions both on and off campus- you were sure you would have quit college a long time ago.

Two weeks earlier you were entered into a competition online by one of your seniors- Lena- where you nearly bypassed your way through some gaming portal’s fictional facility’s security because someone thought it was a brilliant idea to encrypt the entire building’s signal on their personal chart of symbolism. Fortunately for you, when the rest of your opponents were busy comparing smiley faces to emotions, you were looking for the origin- the chart- because no matter how good anyone is, they always will keep a backup of the blueprint any idea was based on.

It was only ten hours later when the local police entered your college dorm to bring you in for questioning did you realise that you had actually been breaking codes for some really bad guys on the dark web, who had been using noobs like you to enter secure facilities- not really fictional- and rob them of whatever sensitive information they had on them. You were to be thrown in prison for aiding some professional invisible lethal forces in bypassing the security to one America’s top 500 companies had it not been for Tony Stark himself taking full responsibility of the situation as well as giving you a full scholarship for your further studies at a college of your choice while interning at Stark labs as well help Scott Lang into making the his security system better- considering you’d broken through his two month’s work in just an hour.

So, here you were, a week later with all your life in your suitcases, living at the Avenger’s facility, working on an old story depicted in symbols- an artefact Stark said he had ‘borrowed from a bad guy who thinks this has some code to something he can use for his evil plans. We have to find the code before him to stop him.’

Bopping your head you swung your hips to Childish Gambino’s Summertime, your fingers worked steadily over the old fabric, making everything the solution touched a hue brighter with the wetness. So engrossed were you in the careful work mixed with a tang of heated music, you never noticed the alarms off around you, the lights everywhere- save the lab that had the power connections of its own, separated from the rest of the facility- shutting down, the backup red lights turning on as two silhouettes came out of the elevator doors from the far corner of the floor towards you.

The track changed, so did your movement, making you swing around to grab the final solution to dry up the fabric before putting it somewhere safe. By the time you were done with the drying agent, the silhouettes came and stood by the glass-walled lab, looking at you with sheer curiosity till you caught their movement from the corner of your eyes and tilted your heads towards them before taking out your earphones.

Two well-built men dressed in combat suits stood outside the lab entrance, one of them giving you a soft smile as he waved his hand at you.

You took out your earphones to acknowledge their presence.

“Can I help you?”

The smiley man scratched his stubble and chuckled at some internal joke while the other one just stood there like a rock.

“Sure, sweetheart,” his husky voice cooed, or rather tried to coo at you, sending a really uncomfortable tickle down your spine, “what are you listening?”

“...Hunnybee.”

“Mh,” he tilted his head, sending his eyes up and down your figure, making you conscious all of a sudden, “you look more of a ‘Filthy’ girl, the Timberlake one.”

“Excuse me?”

“What I mean is you can help us out by handing over that old piece of paper you got working on over there.”

That’s when you noticed the red hue of the emergency lights outside the lab with at least a dozen more men moving about in the darkness, forcing you to turn towards the screen and swipe away to find out Friday’s intrusion alert.

What in the hell…

“Well,” the stubble guy asked you gently, his eyebrows and hands raised in question, “what do you say, sweetheart? Help a guy out here.”

You took a step away from their direction, your gloved hands sweeping the dry papyrus away from the table, rolling it and pulling it behind you. “Mr Stark didn’t send you here.”

It was more of a statement than a question, making the guy’s smile falter and his lips twitch, his hands going down in momentary defeat.

“The paper. Yes or no.”

You inched away further, finding your legs walk into Bruce’s desk.

“No,” you stated in the most obvious sense, surprised at your brain’s ability to be so dangerously subtle in a situation that could turn fatal for you.

The stubble guy dipped his head forward, inhaling in a long tiring breath before moving something from his back forward.

A machine gun.

Correction: the situation did just turn fatal for you.

For a second you froze there, your body not being able to decide between the flight or fight response as it saw both the men pull the trigger, your brain waiting for the glass walls to shatter and you to be dead any second, flinching as the bullets came out but dropped or bounced away just as they met the glass, leaving nothing but tiny frosty traces on the transparent surface.

“The lab is under emergency security, Y/N,” Friday’s soothing voice made you jump. “The chances of the breach are it 1.09 per cent.”

“Huh?” was your only response as your eyes didn’t leave the two men cursing the glass before signalling each other to take something else out of their utility belts.

“My security system is being bypassed at the moment, Y/N. If they are successful in doing so, I would not be able to keep them outside the lab anymore. The intruders have already cut off the rest of the facility’s power, making me unable to communicate with Mr Stark on my own.”

The men each took out what looked like spray bottles. The blank-faced man sprayed a string of white foam all over the lower parts of visible glass of the lab- which was practically three sides of the entire area- as the other stood there smiling before taking out a lighter and throwing in the material to create an explosion of fire all around you, making you bend down in fear of everything exploding in your face.

“Ten minutes,” the uncomfortable husky voice came again, “you have ten minutes to come out yourself and hand me that shitty paper before I melt this glass and get it from over your dead body.”

“Tell me,” you announced, never taking your eyes off the man, “tell me how can I help you reach Mr Stark,” making your intentions pretty clear to the man.

Continued here

TAGLIST

Permanent

@magiclolipopqueen @choke-me-sweet-pea @smexylemony @hazzastyles2471 @lokis-lady-death @lokixme @l0kisbitch @tarithenurse @hiddlestonstansworld @itheoneofmanyfandomsi @nalokoniloki @fuckidontknow @qualitynerdwasteland @cryinglots @unipanda1006 @literalangels @meganlikesfandoms @kcd15

JBB tags who’d be interested (Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in this fic)

@lost-and-wandering-alone @imsunnysu @vxidnik @sebbies @unknownuserhasjoined @cauraphernelia @queen-of-elves @doitfortwitter @ladywintersoldat @introvertfangirl @alt-er-love-er-alt @klmpun @loving-life-my-way @picapicapicassobaby

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yueqqi-main · 5 years

Note

MY FRIEND! Tell me about your OCs! ;D I know you're a creative person, an artist and I think a writer as well. I feel like you've got some really well developed OCs, and I'm so curious to meet them and get to know the kinds of worlds are alive in your mind!

:,) I have waaaay too many. For the Persona series alone, I have 20+ and that’s for a Persona 6 concept fic I have going on at Ao3. But I’ll share some of my favorites and separate them by fandom/original novel.

Bnha

Li Fong: smol angry, kinda moody boi (not that small actually, he’s like my height) who is an international student at U.A. from Hong Kong. He can generate portals with his mind (2 at a time, Portal-inspired unlike Kurogiri). He was traumatized (long story short, abusive family, he walked in on his mother’s dead body while his asshole father was throwing a rage fit, and “killed” his father in self-defense by reflecting his father’s knife attack with portals, but not really because his father is immortal technically), so he experiences a block with his quirk until he gets help. Depending on how the roleplay on Discord goes, he can become a villain or hero.

Otsuka Kyouma: tol beautiful boi with an ENFJ smile who graduated top of his class (#3) at U.A. before Mirio and crew. He’s really kind and compassionate, but won’t take people’s shit, also usually bright and smiley until he’s not. He’s a pro-hero who goes by Seraphim, which came from his quirk Hypnotic Illusion: he can induce a hypnotic field on people within his field of vision and make them see whatever he wants them to see, like a dream master of sorts. His favorite thing is to disguise himself as a biblical angel and terrorize the enemies out of spite or for information gathering.

He worked for Endeavor’s agency for the first few years of his hero career, and decided to transfer to the police force in Hosu City (where he meets and partners with ISTP’s jerk OC, Hirai Kaito, and becomes enamored with the detective) when his career didn’t go anywhere. Also, fun fact: Kyouma got his 6 eyes from his mother, who is a brightly colored hero who can do anything a mantis shrimp can, in water and on land.

David Li: aaaaa I hope no one who’s reading Our Hero Academia is reading this. David is an absolute villain who desires control and reaches from his goals to destroy criminal activity...with more criminal activity. He’s two-faced: to the public he projects a kind politician sort of air who backs the heroes and defends justice, but behind closed doors he is leading a network of organizations (triads, yakuza, villain groups, and of course, his branch of the government) with a terrifying power. He’s known as the Shinigami, a merciless contractor, but to those who are closest to him, he still retains compassion (even though it’s twisted sometimes) and tries to treat innocents right.

Before he became a politician, he was an immortal hero named Agent Sun who often worked in USA and China as an assassin-type, superhuman type figure. While he does have above-average strength, speed, and agility, most of that came from training rather than a quirk. Instead, his actual quirk is the ability to take and give time from anyone’s lifespan who he comes into direct contact with. He has at least 500 years added to his clock, so he’s been around since the 1st and 2nd generation of quirk-users, plus he was sort of rival-buddies with All For One.

[For the record, David is NOT Li Fong’s father. Still related though, just by an extra generation]

Persona

Shirogeki Haku: Oof, Haku is a bit of a mess. He’s a bisexual trans guy with a somewhat strained relationship with his traditional parents, living in Tokyo with his attorney cousin to study Computer Science with a focus in AI at Tokyo University. Furthermore, he has a constant self-depreciating attitude because of factors like his identity and his thalassemia, which has worsened since childhood so it gets in the way of a lot of things he used to love doing (soccer). He also lacks self-preservation because he thinks he’ll die early anyways, so he lowkey jumps at the chance to use the cognitive ‘verse to a) run away from his illness since he finds the effects of his anemia aren’t as strong there and b) to put his life on the line as the new group’s Wildcard, which is seriously concerning to criminal profiler!Akira after the Shadow Operatives, Investigation Team, and the Phantom Thieves team up with the new persona users.

His arcana is the Fool, but he also represents the Tower. His persona is Karna, a hero-turned-villain from the Mahabharata.

[I have so many plans for this character, it’s gonna be a wild ride in Icarus]

[And I’m leaving it at that for Persona; if I start talking about Zuni, Sora, or Help Wizard, I’m not going to stop so a separate ask, post, or DM about this particular fandom would be more wise lmao]

Water Runs Clear (original novel series)

Lan Honglian: LHL is the crown prince of Mei, until his father’s, Lan Jinyun’s, most trusted advisor, Chen Zhongming, betrays Mei, kills the royal family, and takes the throne for himself. CZM’s oldest son, Chen Yongyi, betrays his father by saving LHL and taking LHL to a far away village to be taken care of by a cultivator elder.

Anyhow, terrible childhood aside, LHL learns to be a cultivator under like five different masters through his pre-teen and late teen years, growing excessively bitter and obsessed with vengeance after seeing the mistreatment of the impoverished. In his early 20s, he joins the Kongxuan sect and starts leading different rebellion missions under the fake, super generic name, Jiang Mingxin (it’s so generic that if you knock down a store sign in the city, you’ll hit five of them), and in a mask+weimao that covers his features, since his green eyes and dark skin draw too much attention and CZM knows LHL is out there somewhere.

Chen Yongxue: CYX was LHL’s childhood best friend and sworn brother until CZM’s betrayal and the palace siege. While CYX is resentful of his father for the betrayal, the execution of Chen Yongyi for saving LHL, and his mother falling deathly ill after CZM’s first wife kills herself, CYX feels more helpless and just does what he could to limit the extents of the new policies under his father’s rule. CYX, in his early 20s, is an investigator for the royal guard whose purpose is to track down and capture rebels from the Kongxuan sect.

LHL and CYX’s friendship was crumbled after the betrayal and LHL eventually learning about CYX’s role as a head investigator, so LHL harbors a lot of bitterness toward his once-best-friend. CYX feels guilt and doesn’t blame LHL, even to the point of telling LHL that it’s his every right to kill him for the murder of his parents.

[LHL and CYX eventually make up once LHL realizes that CYX still cherished their sworn brotherhood.]

[Also they’re gay for each other.]

Yang Xinxuan: A Taoist priest from the Tiebing sect, the protag of another novel that happens almost concurrently with LHL’s story. YXY is a terrifyingly powerful cultivator, who is no-nonsense, serious, and, most of all, oblivious to romance. He once fought Death (literally, he fought the Heibai Wucheng) and got away, albeit injured. Later, another Death (Yanluo) becomes enamored with him, though every flirtation goes over his head.

YXY got his stubbornness and resolve from growing up orphaned and trained under top cultivators at his sect.

Zhang Xiaohen: A stony-faced, strict cultivator who was in Tiebing before she joined Kongxuan and later took LHL in. She rarely is angered, but the last few times she did get angered did not end well: after discovering her siblings were still alive, she impulsively went to confront the nobles that had taken them as servants and got thrown out of Tiebing for it.

Liu Shuangyu: Another cultivator in Kongxuan who is known for her musical cultivation technique. Working as a mercenary of sorts, she brings chaos pretty much everywhere until she decides to settle in Zhang Xiaohen’s village, but still acting as a bad influence for LHL.

[They are also in love and basically LHL’s moms.]

#answer #oc #bnha oc #persona series #persona oc #persona 5

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maggyme13 · 6 years

Text

Lady my Ass!

Wordcount: Around 4000

Warnings: mention of torture, a lot of coursing, I can´t think of more; feel free to tell me if you find more warnings ;P

AN: I found it in the depth of my Laptop^^

Avengers meets Sons Of Anarchy

„Agent Romanov. Agent Barton. Welcome back. There is someone waiting for you in the common room.”

The electronic voice of FRIDAY greeted the Avengers when the garage door opened.

“Who is it FRIDAY?” Agent Romanov asked the AI that was managing the Avengers-compound.

“A young Lady, –“

“Lady my ass!” came as answer from farther inside.

“-you asked me to keep an eye on.”

“Wait what?” the same body-less voice shouted.

The two agents, the AI had addressed, changed a knowing look with each other.

“Hello (y/n).” They spoke in union.

“What did the house just said about keeping an eye on me?” A young woman with (y/h/c) hair growled.

“That isn´t a house. The voice you just heard is an AI with the Name FRIDAY.” Tony Stark, aka Iron Man frowned at the her.

“Whatever tin man. Can I stay here for a while? I need to stay low.”

“I don´t know you.” Stark answered her.

“I didn´t ask you. I asked Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanov.”, she answered him.

“This is my house.”

“Fine! Can I stay here for a while? – Please.” (y/n) made the most innocent face she could muster, what failed, because her face was coated in ash and she had a few scratches all over her body.

“What happened?” Agent Barton demanded to know.

“The safehouse you let me stay in, kind of exploded.” She whispered.

“How can a safehouse kind of explode?” A guy with a metal arm, she knew was Sargent James Buchanan Barns aka the Winter Soldier murmured to himself.

“Yeah, how?” The black widow joined into the conversation.

“Boom?” (y/N) shrugged.

“Really, just boom?”

“Can we do this later? Can I stay here for a while or do I need to look for another hideout? I didn´t sleep in two days.” She groaned.

“Yes. FRIDAY. (y/n) will stay at one of the empty rooms on Natasha’s and my floor. You, will take a shower, then come into the common room- eat something and then sleep.” The archer ordered.

“I will show you the way.” The red-haired assassin offered.

“This is still my house!”

One hour later (y/n) was clean again and had put on some clothes, the Black Widow had given her.

“FRIDAY was it? I am sorry I called you a house before.”

“No hard feelings. Shall I help you to find the common room?”

“Thank you.”

“The Agents Romanov and Barton, as well as the other Avengers are waiting for you.”

Great.

“Eat and then talk!” Barton placed a plate with pasta in front of you.

“Tastes good.” “Good to hear.”

“Short version. I helped some chick to get her ex away and two weeks later the house exploded. He was a corrupt cop. He must have recognised something about me and gave the information away. Something was off, so I decided to get out through the back, I was three (?) meters away when that damn thing exploded. Good thing I took cover behind a car. I made my way through the woods, looking for this compound.”

“You know who it was?” Captain America, Steve Rogers, asked.

“No Idea. The only thing I know, is that someone wants me dead, I am here and my entire body hurts. But maybe your AI knows who it was, regarding it was having an eye on me.” The last thing was directed at the two agents in front of you.

“FRIDAY would you be so kind and check if you can find something.” Captain America said.

“I already did this, when Ms (y/n) entered the compound. I was able to make out four individuals with tattoos, that – regarding FBI databases- belong to a Mexican cartel, the Lobo-Sonora.”

“Can you show me the footage? Please.” She asked the AI.

“Of course.”

Pictures of 5 individuals showed up on a hologram in front of her and the second her eye felt onto the third man, she stopped breathing and her face darkened.

You again.

“(y/n), you know one of them.” The female ex assassin concluded. “Who and how?”

“Third picture. Asshole left a few marks when I was 16. Didn´t thought I would see him again.”

(y/n) could feel the anger starting to radiate from behind her, but she couldn´t determine who it came from.

“He was part of a Mexican street gang. Seems like he is part of a cartel now.”, she growled.

“How do you know that?” The billionaire wanted to know.

“Its the Ink. You know how to read them, you know who you are dealing with. Had to learn that when I was a little kid.”

I hoped I had left that life behind me.

“(y/n). You will stay here, in safety.”

“I am sick of hiding. I should go back ´home´ and get it behind me.” She mumbled.

“That’s suicide.”

“Not when you two come with me.” Her eyes locked with her saviours.

“Sure, I am bored out of my mind. Tomorrow we talk the details and then get it done.”, The archer shimmed.

“I´m in.” Was the answer of the red-head.

“Sure, why not. How dangerous could it be? Nothing we can´t handle, right?” That was falcon.

“I had my fair share of criminals, who are we talkin´ about?” Antman.

“MC- Sons of Anarchy.”

Antman whistled.

“How does a young girl get in contact with people like that?” Captain America asked in disbelieve.

“My brother is part of them. And he is the one that was ordered to kill me and happily accepted.”

“How do you know that. I don´t think any brother would do things like that.”

“I heard him accept. I just was able to escape from that asshole and got home, and hear my brother accept an order to kill me, because they thought I had ratted on them. Just because some ATF Bitch decided to play a trick on us.” Tears had started to fall, and the young woman knew she wasn´t able to tell anything more.

“Get rest. We will take care of this as soon as you are healed up again. FRIDAY said, you have at least two cracked ribs. How are you moving like this?” “Had it worse. Good night gentleman, Ms. Romanov.”

Four hours later, (y/N) made her way back into the common room, she couldn´t sleep and FRIDAY had informed her, that there was milk she could warm up to settle her nerves.

“I don´t bite. Can´t sleep either?” She asked the other person, that had stopped dead in its tracks before it was able to enter the kitchen.

“How-“ A male voice started to ask.

“My brother is kind of an assassin, he never made a noise upon entering anything. Had to learn to hear him none the less. Cost me a few heart attacks until I was able to do that.”

When she turned around, she was able to recognise the male Russian assassin, the Winter Soldier.

“Want to join me?” She asked him again. “I swear, I don´t bite.”

Ever so slowly, Barns made his way towards the kitchen island.

They sat there in silence for few minutes, but the young woman knew, the soldier had something on his mind.

“Ask away soldier. And don´t deny that you have something bothering your mind.”

“What kind of marks did he left?” He asked another minute or so later.

“Come.” She motioned him to follow her towards his room. “No ill intentions, I swear.” She told him, when he did not move.

Slowly, like he was fighting a battle inside him, he followed her.

Why am I doing this? Why do I feel save around him?

She motioned for him to close the door, when they´d reached her room.

Barnes frowned in confusion, but obliged.

“FRIDAY, please turn on the lights a bit, so Mr Barnes can see?”

“Of course, Ms (y/n).”

Slowly (y/n) pulled her shirt over her head to reveal her back and every single scar on it.

“Mr. Barnes?” Why doesn´t he reacts? She turned her head to steal a look over her shoulder, only to see him look at his feet.

“You know, if you want to see the marks, you need to look at me.”

That’s better. Is he blushing?

“Can I-“

“-touch them. Yeah.”

(y/n) felt his finger brush over the scars that resembled the word BITCH. Next to the cigarette burns.

Slowly it reached the shoulder blades, and she knew his eyes lingered on the smiley that was burned into her neck.

“Why a smiley?”

“Because every time my brother killed someone for the club, he would get a smiley face as a tattoo on his stomach. Like some sick trophy. That guy thought it would be funny to mark me as one of his victims, to get to him. And now he´s after me. I bled for them, I went through hell for his club- his family- and in return he wants me dead. Like some stranger. Like I am of no worth for him.”

She didn´t know why, but she opened up to him, only the Agents Romanov and Barton knew this part of the story, and only because they saved her the other day.

“How do you know Natasha and Clint then?” He asked, his gaze never leaving her.

“It was some days later. I was able to tend to the wounds, as good as possible. I had made my way to the next bigger town. Stole a bike and drove four hours. Found an abandoned house and made camp. Less did I know that there would be a secret Mission happening, helped them a few hours later by distracting their target. But I collapsed and the next thing I know is, that I woke up in a bed with the two assassins next to me. They demanded to hear my stories and decided to help me out. They placed me in the save house and took care of me.”

“And now you are here.”

“And now I am here.”

Silence hung between them again and (y/n) let the shirt fall back down over her back.

“How are your rips?”

“Hurting like hell, but I can´t reach them without hurting even more. You mind helping me with the ointment?” She asked and she saw the face of the man become uncertain.

“Don´t worry, you won´t hurt me. You saw what I went though I can stand that.” She reassured it and she meant it.

Accepting the ointment, the Sergeant carefully spread it over the bruised skin of her ribcage.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She yawned.

“I will leave then.”

The next morning, (y/n) entered the kitchen only to see all the Avengers up and awake sitting at a big table.

“Good Morning.” She greeted.

“Morning (y/n). Do you still want to go back to your brother and his gang?”

“Club, it´s a club.” She and Antman corrected in union.

“They don´t like it when they get called a gang. Learned that the hard way in prison.” He mumbled when the others looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s true. They can get pretty bitchy if it happens. But yeah, the sooner that is out of the way the better. I was never one to run.”

“Well in that case. Natasha and I made a plan.” The archer declared and motioned for her to step closer.

The flight to Stockton International Airport took four hours in Tony Starks newest Quinjet, and different rides were waiting for them at his personal hangar, together with one of Starks most trusted attorneys.

“They faked your death. I let her formulate a declaration that it happened for your own safety. It will be like you never had disappeared.” Tony had said.

“Mr Stark. Mrs Lowen, the clubs attorney is awaiting us. But I didn´t mention the whole reason for our appearance.

(y/n) became more and more nervous with every passing mile and the whenever she heard the rumble of a motorbike she jerked together a bit, that’s how nervous she was.

Pulling into the parking lot of Teller Morrow Automotives her eyes felt onto the row of neatly parked Harleys at the centre. There were more than usual.

Why are there so many.

When her eyes fell onto the one of her brother her heart clenched, and anger rose inside her.

That bastard still has my paintjob on his fucking Harley. Pretending mourning family.

“Ready?” Starks attorney asked her and she nodded, pulling her pair of sunglasses down.

“Ready as I will ever be.”

“Don´t worry, we are here and will intervene if it goes south.”

“Thank you, Ms Romanov.”

Her heart skipped a beat, when the two women left the security of the armoured vehicle (of course it would be armoured) and walked towards the picnic tables where a group of Sons stood.

“You must be Mr Starks attorney. My name is Ally Lowen, we talked. You said you has something to sign for Mr Lowman.” A woman with brown hair greeted them, and immediately the shatter died down and every single biker turned towards them.

“That I am. I assumed you informed Mr Lowman? It is of utter importance that he himself signs this form today.”

“She did.” Her brothers deep voice answered from the entrance of the clubhouse and (y/n) had to muster all her control to not jerk together.

Stay calm. This shit will be over.

“What do you want from him?” Gemma Teller the Queen bitch asked aloud.

“This is not for you to know at the moment Mrs Teller -Morrow. For my client isn´t related to you but to Mr Lowman here.” “The only living relative I have is my aunt and I don´t believe she has anything to do with Stark.” Her brother spat and her heart dropped.

Only living relative my aunt- does that mean mom is-

“We will get to that later, now is there a place where we can sit down, this will take a while to figure out.”

Respect woman, not many would stay that calm facing twenty Sons. Better make sure Mr Stark gives you a bonus after this.

Instead of an answer the man in question jerked his head towards one of the tables and sat down.

“What can we do for Mr Stark.” Ms Lowen asked with a smile.

“I am here on Starks orders, that’s true, but I am here for someone else. What does the name (y/n) tell you?”

“What kind of game are you playing, woman?” He growled, and most women would have jumped away then, but not her attorney.

“I am playing no game. Now, please answer my question.”

“Was the name of my sister. She died when she was sixteen, in a crash. Rode her bike of the road into a river.”

“You don´t seem very hurt Mr Lowman.”

“That was nearly eight years ago. Shit happens, life is short. There is no need to waste it.”

Died in a crash? I swear if they killed my beast- and he is not even pretending to be sad. Did I mean so little for him?

Tears wanted to rise in her eyes, but she had learned to keep her body under iron control.

“Well then I am happy to announce you that Ms (y/n) Lowman is alive and happy, none the less. And that is the reason why I am here.”

Shocked faces were every where around them and the young woman couldn´t supress a little smile, when she saw fear appear on others.

“What are you talkin about? I saw the wreckage. There is no way she survived that. What do you want from us?” He roared slamming his fist on the table with such a force splinters went flying and (y/n) was sure the hidden Avengers would come out any second now. But instead of that, toned cars with sirens drive unto the yard.

“We have nothing to do with that.”

“Bullshit!”

“Special Agent Stahl, what an honour to have you here. How may I help you?” Lowen greeted the new arrival, with a poor excuse of face politeness.

That bitch is still alive? Even better, two flies at once.

“Nothing. I am here for Mr Lowman and the others. I have an order for arrest. It is just happening that you are already here. And you are?” She sneered towards (y/n) and her attorney.

“I am working for Mr Tony Stark and I have to ask you to wait. We are having an important meeting, regarding Mr Lowman´s younger sister (y/n)”

“What a coincident that´s why I am here as well. Happy Lowman, Alexander Tragger and Phillip Tellford, I am arresting you for the murder on (y/n) Lowman.”

Wait what? That BITCH!

“I –“ Starks attorney wanted to intervene but (y/n) stopped her with a motion of her hand.

“May I ask on what evidence you are basing this arrest?” , the young woman asked with the most serious tone she could muster.

“We have a witness that heard them planning the murder.”

“Do you have a body?”

“No-, but-“

“Do you have a witness or visual evidence of the murder?”

“Yes.” “Yes. That´s interesting.” (y/n) mumbled, lifting the sun glasses up.

“And why?”

“Because how can there a body if the person you are looking for is alive and walking around? By the way, I need the number of your beauty doc. Last time I saw you, your face resembled the piece of shit you are. Agent Bitchface.” She smiled, with her most innocent voice she could muster.

“Excuse me.”

“No, I am not, because guess what. I am going to file a complaint against you for several things, including kidnapping and assault of a then sixteen-year-old girl. Who you kicked out in the middle of Mexican gang territory. What you can assume ,didn´t end well for her. Guess what, she got caught and the her captors thought why not have some fun and show her brother not to mess with them.”

“How do you know about that?”

“But it comes even better, when she was able to flee, because some Arian assheads attacked the house she was hold captive in, after two months of imprisonment. Battled, bruised, burned and after even worse things happened to her, she was finally returning to where she lived with her brother only to hear him accepting the kill order.” She was ranting and growling now.

“Who are you?”, Shock and fear was written all over the ATF Agents face, her little secret had come out.

Pulling the shirt over her head, (y/n) revealed every little scar she had on her upper body, and the smiley that wasn´t hidden anymore as well.

“You should know who I am because it was you who killed me. (y/n) Lowman´s death is on you. Not my brother or his brothers -on you! Now you will get your little goons and fuck off.”

“Or what?” Agent Bitchface challenged. “ I am not afraid of a little ratting whore.”

“Maybe not, but you should be afraid of me. Now leave and never come back, before I forget that the Wintersoldier was deleted some time ago.” Sergeant Barnes growled from behind the Agent, moving her gaze towards him, the young woman noticed that every Avenger had excited the cars and were now standing there, ready to fight.

With a last glare towards the presumed (and hoped dead), the ATF left and the Sergeant handed her a his sweater to cover up again.

“Thank you.” “Now that this is dealt with. Mr Lowman, if you sign this form, (y/n) will be declared alive again. It contains a declaration that her death was faked to save her life because of some unlucky events in your form of life.”

But Happy Lowman wasn´t listening, like everybody else his gaze was concentrated on his little sister.

“Sign that damn paper and I am gone again.” She growled.

“What happened?”

“Why do you care, huh? Sad that some sobo- something-cartel guys found me before you could? Sign that paper and I am gone.”

“You are nothing but a rat. Brings the Avengers here to our door.” Gemma spats.

“Listen here queen bitch. If I had ratted on you, the whole charter would have been in jail or on death row a long time ago. I bled for your so-called family and what was the thanks, you fucking ordered a kill squat on me. Even now I could probably send half you to prison for the rest of your lives. But that´s not why I am here. I just want to life a life without fearing some asshole I called brother is after me to kill me.”

“What will happen if he doesn´t sign.” Chibs asked, with a hurt expression on his face.

“Then I will use one of the Aliases I start building when I was twelve.” She answered dryly.

“I will sign it. If we talk. Just five minutes.” Happy said- no pleaded, and (y/n) wasn´t sure if tears were glittering in his eyes.

“What tells me that you won´t try and kill her then?” Sergeant Barnes asked.

“Stay if you must, I don´t care.” Happy growled.

“Five minutes and you better use them wise.” She declared, her voice as cold as ice.

“That´s all I ask for.”

“Happy, you can´t-“

“Fuck off Gemma. This was never your business. Hadn´t you fucking appeared at my fucking house we would never have this fucking situation.” He said it with such hate in his eyes, that his sister believes the old woman would fall dead to the ground.

“Don´t think that little outburst would change anything. What do you want?” She sighted the moment the three of them were alone.

“I want you to know that I never considered following her order. I know what I said that night. And I know how it must have sound like. But believe me, when you went missing, I never believed you were a rat. Chibs, Tig and me were looking for you the whole time, no matter what the others thought. We had a plan and new identity for you. The last thing anyone of us was seeing you dead.”

“Nice try.”

“I don´t care if you believe me. The whole time I hoped you had run away and were safe. But apparently I was wrong. You went through hell and I wasn´t there to help you.” The last part was barely a whisper.

“How did mom die?”

“Cancer, she believed till the end you were dead.”

“No she didn´t. I send her a postcard three years back, telling her I was sick of your club and wanted a normal life. Was that everything?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Sign it. Do not look for me and do not try to contact me in any kind. That counts for anybody you know, or may not know jet. Should you feel the need to do it regardless, take the way over the attorneys” (y/n) declared and turned around to join the others again.

“I am glad you are alive.” He called after her.

“Me too, but that’s not thanks to you!” She called back.

Back inside the black cars, her mask fell, and tears started to fall down her face. Immediately she was pulled into a warm and soothing embrace.

“Everything will be fine. You are safe, and everybody will now not to mess with you because you are under our protection.” Sergeants Barns warm voice told her.

“Yeah.”

“You know, your brother said the truth. They really were looking for you to get you to safety.” Wanda piped in over the intercom.

“I know. But still. As long as he is with them, he is unable to be the big brother I need. Maybe we will get closer after a while again, but for now it is better to stay away.”

“At least our little girl is alive and save now.” Chibs mumbled, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Aye. But I want the bastard that did that to her.”

“You will get him. If he is alive it´s you who will end him.” Jaxon Teller, the new President promised him.

“Bastards burned a smiley in her neck. Wrote BITCH in her back with a knife and did what god knows.” Tig cursed. “They will suffer, like no one ever did before.”

“She mentioned Sonora. I will make a few calls and see what I can find.” Juice offered and disappeared into the clubhouse.

“She will come around brother. But for know you need to concentrate a Deadman is walking around waiting to meet Mayhem.” The president said.

“Aye.”

To be continued…?

So I found this little oneshot in the depth of my laptop again.

Please let me know what you think and feel free to reblog.

Thank you all for reading <3

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#avengers #sons of anarchy #bucky x reader #black widow #clint barton #falcon #happy lowman #16+

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thehallofgame · 6 years

Text

Review: Far Cry 5

Release: 2018

My Rating: 7.5

Far Cry 5 is a game that’s sold itself on its premise, and the controversy that premise has generated, more than anything else. In contrast to earlier entries in the series which always took place in far-flung locales, this game occurs in the fictional Hope County, Montana, USA. The antagonists in this game are all part of a Christianity-Inspired cult that takes over the aforementioned county. This notion was inflammatory to some segments of the American population. Personally, I found it brilliant. As far as I’m concerned, it’s about time Americans (and the rest of the world) enjoyed a story where American culture gets the same treatment as our media happily visits on other countries.

That said, I found myself fairly disappointed with the way the game executed a surprisingly good story. The core members of the cult: their leader Jacob Seed, and his three siblings, are all fully realized antagonists and creepy as all get out. But the supporting cast just isn’t up to par. Most of the ‘characters’ are simply quest givers with a bit of backstory that the game then treats like the player should be emotionally invested in. Even the nine “guns for hire” the player can recruit are little more than their recruitment missions and a bit of party banter. Funnily enough, the three animal companions called ‘fangs for hire’ are usually far more personable than their human equivalents. There are some really funny, dark, poignant and all around powerful moments in the game but they’re often abrupt or intrusive. Ultimately, Far Cry 5’s open-world structure erodes the impact of its writing.

The player takes the role of a voiceless, personality-less rookie sheriff’s deputy who was part of a team that tries and fails to arrest cult leader Jacob Seed. Instead, it is the law enforcement officers who are taken prisoner as the cult rises up and cuts the town off from the outside world. Only the deputy escapes. It then becomes the deputy’s mission to rescue their fellow deputies, oust the cult leadership, and build up a local militia to assist them with goals 1 and 2. The open world is divided into three major regions, each belonging to one of Jacob’s siblings. Story progression is measured separately in each region and is demarcated by filling up a ‘resistance level’ progress bar by completing quests or generally being destructive to cult membership and property. There are three levels of resistance level, and at each level an event occurs to symbolize the Deputy’s progress at eroding the cult’s hold on that region. These events feel rather intrusive against the otherwise completely unconstrained nature of the game. It doesn’t help that the first two events in each region are typically a kidnapping of the deputy that can’t be avoided, followed by a daring escape. It makes one wonder why after kidnapping fails the first couple times the cult that’s happy to execute non-believers by the side of the road just doesn’t pop a bullet in the deputy that’s making their holy war harder.

The final event, the final confrontation and boss battle, is a complete 180 from the other events. These multi-phase boss battles and story sequences are usually well structured and find ways to make encounters interesting and satisfying, which is something most first-person shooters struggle with. It helps that each of the four Seed siblings have their own non-combat hooks that get woven into the battle, as well the fact that each of them is horribly unlikable.

Combat, likewise, faces a lot of the same inconsistencies. When it works, it works, but when it has a hiccup the deputy dies. Or attempts to. Once the deputy’s HP is reduced to zero there is a period in which they can be revived. The player can extend or shorten this window by pressing buttons to ‘cling to life’ or ‘give up’. If a gun for hire can reach the deputy before the window runs down the deputy will be returned to the fight with minimal HP, even if the player was hoping to die and respawn at a checkpoint. Either way, the deputy is going to die a lot.

The game aims to hit that thin line of high mortality, fast-paced combat but ultimately wobbles back and forth over it like a drunk. Armored enemies can take full clips of ammunition to the head without blinking while the deputy dies in the space between realizing they’re being shot at and identifying where the bullets are coming from. In a game where the enemies have an arsenal of snipers, helicopters and fighter planes, this can quickly become an unending nightmare as the deputy respawns or revives in combat zones or on top of hostile wildlife.

To preserve their life against this assault, the deputy can carry up to four guns, two melee weapons and a grab bag of explosives on them at any one time. Switching between these is done by holding down the right shoulder button and selecting a slot containing the desired gun, or the slots that contain the melee weapons and explosives. Each melee and explosive slot has three item types in it, which must be further navigated to with the left and right d-pad buttons. This menu, and a fairly minor crafting sub-menu, don’t pause the game so it’s always best to estimate the necessary loadout before entering combat. The currently selected explosive is mapped to the right bumper, while two weapons (and sometimes the fishing pole if the player is sloppy) can be mapped and quick-swapped via a face button. Holding the left trigger causes the deputy to aim down the barrel (or scope) for distance shots, and right trigger is fire.

Generally, the combat flows well and feels good. Shots are quick to line up, heady shots are effective but not too easy to get, and if the player is using a weapon with a scope tapping a button will cause the deputy to hold their breath and reduce weapon sway for a short moment. Explosives usually go where they’re desired to go, and stealth kills usually go off without a hitch. The AI isn’t the best on the market, but it’s generally competent. Enemy combatants certainly feel like they know what they’re doing, and most of the time friendly units won’t be completely useless and/or stupid. I did have few AI and combat-related issues, including animal companions running in front of moving vehicles and getting killed, as well as NPCs. Other times the reticles that indicate whether or not a target is a friendly or a hostile wouldn’t pop up until an enemy was too close, had killed their hostage, or the player has already pulled the trigger on an NPC. Again, not the tightest gameplay experience but and occasionally frustrating, but not game breaking.

The game shines in the ways in which it’s balanced its combats and encounters so that the player is free to choose a desired play style and stick with it. Every weapon in the game, once purchased or unlocked via story, can be picked up for free at shops. Almost every one of these guns can be tailored with upgrades to increase accuracy, damage, number of bullets per clip, ect. The weapons run the gamut from shovels with smiley faces painted on them to handheld artillery, slingshots to LMGs. More and more powerful weapons are unlocked throughout the game as the enemies become tougher.

Vehicles are similarly handled, though they must be purchased and spawned from specific garages. There are no horses, which I found disappointing for a game literally set out west in ranch country. But, there are ATVS and more cars than you can shake a stick at, as well as attack helicopters and fighter planes. The cars are convenient, especially those with mounted guns, but the aircraft are essential. Some targets are nearly impossible to take out on foot, but a well-placed bomb from a Spitfire will sort them out nicely. Flying and driving are a little sticky. Ground vehicles and each aircraft have a different control scheme, so good luck keeping the weapon buttons straight or remembering how to land. 90% of the time driving or flying is fun and relaxing, the other ten percent is having the auto-drive run over civilians, planes blowing up after coming within ten square feet of a tree, and getting cars stuck somewhere real stupid after spinning out for no discernible reason.

If that doesn’t work out, going on foot will take longer but is an enjoyable experience. Montana makes for a beautiful and unusual backdrop for a video game. Far Cry 5’s team did a great job recreating it in gorgeous detail… minus any bugs, extreme weather or unpleasant winds on the mountains. The series’ history of open world design also shows because there is far more to discover than the quests will take the player to, and it’s easy to get lost going hunting, fishing or base jumping. A minimal HUD and intrusion from quest markers is both blessing and curse as it keeps the player in the game, but requires some serious squinting when looking for something specific.

Far Cry 5 is a good game. It’s solid, it’s fun. But it’s also getting a lot more mileage out of its premise than anything else. Once the novelty of taking a gunslinging adventure through America’s cultural dark secrets wears off Far Cry 5 will probably fade into the mist of popular shooters to be lost to time, much like Hope County’s quiet, dusty roads.

#far cry 5 review #video game review #thehallofgame reviews #long post #text post

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pets-beaty · 5 years

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via How Webs

Text Symbols Code and Abbreviation

text symbols is very easy to understand the SMS symbols. This is how you discover the meaning of the SMS symbols or emoticons as they are called that you receive. However, if you encounter problems, you can consult the following list of SMS symbols. There are many people who are new to texting and chatting online. These people find it very daunting when they receive a text message with smiley faces. They cannot decipher the meanings, especially when typing in: ^ {or: (#).

text symbols

This is a new form of communication that is also called Short Text Messages (SMS). We must use our cell phone to send chat messages to our friends. In addition to texting, we are also addicted to online chats.

Text Symbols History

Smiley Face Symbol The idea and the first use of a smiley with text is credited to Scott Elliott Fahlman, a computer scientist at Carnegie Mellon University. He thought that using smile and frown text symbols would help notice board users to distinguish between serious messages and jokes. The message with details about the use of smiley emoticons was posted in September 1982. In this article, Smiley Lore :-), Fahlman describes why he felt it was necessary to mark messages that contributors did not want to take seriously by others who read it Bulletin board:

Common Text Message Emoticon Symbols

Emoticons are images or faces made of characters on the keyboard of a mobile phone. You can choose to send emoticons to express your mood or add some humor or personality to a message instead of typing a full message.

Other text message Symbol Meaning Sources

The popular symbols and emoticons change daily and new ones are constantly being made. If you don't find any symbols and emoticons on these lists that meet your needs or get confused by a message you've received, look at some online databases with a more extensive list of text symbols, emoticons and other fun text message ideas.

It even becomes embarrassing to ask about their meanings, because it implies that you are not aware of the latest developments in technologically cool languages. You don't have to worry anymore. This Techspirited article covers some of the most commonly used symbols used for texting and chatting. You can refer to the following list of SMS symbols as a dictionary to help resolve your confusion behind the various acronyms and abbreviations.