#Magnetic Enhancer Ring

[vampiretendencies]

what about canon!rafe cameron x wife!reader married life?

warnings; fluff, suggestive maybe, mention of kids

pairing; canon!rafe x fem!wife!reader

authors note; did this in the form of mini headcanons cause it’s too the point of what married life would be like in my opinion. hope you like it!

canon!rafe who obsesses over wife!reader, nearly a thousand times a day. he can’t fathom being married to a lover such as you.

canon!rafe who has his wife’s ring polished and cleaned once a month so that anyone who sees your hand sees the big ass rock on your finger. showy, sharp, karat wrapped, and more reflective everytime. as well as paying for your nails because, along with the ring comes sensational nails. and he loves for you to scratch along his back in longing for him, whilst it also soothes his worries away.

“d’you wanna pick the color this time?”

“you’d look pretty with any color princess.”

canon!rafe who insists on taking a warm bath with his wife every night. pressing plentiful kisses to your neck, having you lean against his soap clad chest. he desired to draw shapes on your skin, or making you guess the word he just wrote with his finger tip on your back. after a long day at work, being wrapped in all that his wife has to offer is absolutely beguiling. to be so engulfed inside of his wife had to be his favorite part of the night.

canon!rafe who cooks dinner when he’s home early or if he’s off. if he finds a new recipe and he thinks it’s something you’ll like he’s going to cook is. always getting you to come and test out the recipe. it was something so sensual about the way he’d curl his index finger under your chin, to tilt your head slightly, allowing your lips to purse around the spoon. swallowing down whatever it was he prepared, and he seemingly did so in excellence every time.

“good princess?”

“s’so good rafe!”

canon!rafe who’s been late to work a few times watching his wife get ready in the morning. there’s something so satisfying about watching you enhance your beauty that he can’t quite pinpoint. but maybe it’s the domestic feel— the feel of your life having a plan, having a routine alongside someone so unspeakably alluring. but there’s a downside also, he can’t smoother your face in kisses after, so he settles for peppering them to your neck. not as good in his opinion, but it’s still you under his touch.

“coming by for lunch my love?”

“wouldn’t miss it.”

canon!rafe who is ready for kids but he wants to embellish and continue discovering the undiscovered about his wife. it would be a complete 360 but he’d be willing to adjust as long as it’s with you. small versions of him decorating his life with adoration, and he can’t wait for that day.

“i want 3 boys.”

“3?!!”

canon!rafe who was adamant on every square inch of his office being decorated in you. from the picture of you kissing his cheek on his desk to the one of you asleep as his laptop background. because he dares someone to look his wife’s way, or breathe in her direction— he’s losing it. his wife is his wife for a reason.

canon!rafe who dresses his wife in the latest shoes, purses, etc. the definition of living lavish. but he doesn’t do it to spoil you or anything of the sort. he through and through thought that you deserved it. always leaving little gift bags here and there of whatever he can muster. whether it’s shopping online or sneaking off to a mall. he’s getting it for you.

canon!rafe who purchased a magnet calendar for the refrigerator to plan date nights accordingly. seeing when schedules are free and basing them off that, every date night he tries to top the last one. date nights are at least once a week, because he craves that extra attention once a week. actually it’s more than that, but date night is always the kicker. going out to dinner and then spending the rest of the night in aimless kissing, and uncontrollable touching. the love never seemed to run out.

“couldn’t keep my hands off of you tonight.”

“is it the dress?”

“no it’s you, princess … nobody does it like you.”

[crssvjb]

Stages - Cristiano Ronaldo

Cristiano Ronaldo x model!reader

Summary: Stages of your relationship with football player Cristiano Ronaldo. From the moment you met until your first child.

Getting To Know Him

In 2006, at a fashion event where renowned model Y/N looked stunning on the catwalk, Cristiano Ronaldo, the football star, was fascinated by the model's beauty and magnetic presence. After the parade, Cristiano, determined, approached her to meet her.

– "Hello, I'm Cristiano Ronaldo. I loved your fashion show. You looked stunning." – He praises her.

Y/N smiles, impressed by the player's bold gesture.

– "Thank you, Cristiano. My name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you."

– "Your presence on stage is mesmerizing. I would love to know more about you. Will you have dinner with me?" – Cristiano invited her.

- "Glad to."

The Dating - 2006-2007

Over the course of the year, Cristiano and Y/N began a serious relationship. Everyone could see how much the two were in love with each other. The relationship blossoms and, in 2007, Cristiano decides to make a significant statement.

Cristiano decides to create an unforgettable moment to ask Y/N to marry him. Plan a special night out at a beachfront restaurant, where the moon reflects off the crystal clear waters. – "Y/N, since we met, my life has turned into a dream. Today, I want to turn that dream into an eternal reality." – Cristiano began analyzing Y/N’s expression, changing from calm to curious and excited.

– “Cristiano, what are you doing?” – Y/N asked

Cristiano gets down on one knee, revealing a dazzling ring.

– "Y/N, you are everything to me. Will you be my wife, share your dreams with me, grow together, build a life full of love with me?"

Y/N can barely contain her tears of happiness.

– "Cristiano, yes! Of course yes." – Y/N responds through tears.

The restaurant explodes in applause as they embrace emotionally, marking the beginning of a new phase together.

Wedding - 2008

Cristiano and Y/N opted for the tradition of a church wedding, a ceremony that evoked a timeless charm. The church, with its colorful stained glass windows, was the perfect setting to seal their commitment.

Y/N walks down the church aisle, stunning in her wedding dress. The dress is a princess model, with a voluminous skirt and subtle shine. The fitted bodice enhances the elegance of the design, while the skirt flows gracefully with each step.

The long lace veil adds a touch of tradition, creating a fairytale aura. In her hands, Y/N holds a bouquet of fresh flowers, matching the soft colors of her dress.

Cristiano waits for her at the altar, his eyes shining as he sees her approach.

– "You look incredibly beautiful, darling." – Cristiano praises her, as soon as their hands touch.

After the “yes” pronounced with conviction, Cristiano and Y/N leave the church as husband and wife, receiving warm applause from friends and family.

The party takes place in a nearby room, where the tables are covered with white tablecloths and delicate floral arrangements. The dance floor is the center of attention, with twinkling lights lighting the way for the bride and groom's long-awaited dance moment.

Cristiano leads Y/N on the track. – "You look so beautiful, my love."

– "You're making me blush, Cris." – You looked away.

They dance slowly, lost in each other's gaze. Y/N's dress glows delicately under the lights, reflecting the couple's radiant happiness.

The party continues with laughter, lively music and exciting moments. The wedding, simple and elegant, is an authentic celebration of Cristiano and Y/N's love.

The News - November 2009

One peaceful morning, Y/N wakes up feeling a little different. A subtle sensation, but one that does not go unnoticed. She decides to talk to Cristiano.

– “Cristiano, I’ve been feeling a little strange lately, I’m feeling a little sick.” – Y/N said as she entered the room where Cristiano was.

Cristiano, attentive to Y/N's concerns, responds: – "Maybe it's something you ate last night. Let's take care of it, darling."

However, the days pass and the symptoms persist. Worried, Cristiano suggests a visit to the doctor. At the doctor's office, Y/N expresses her concerns and the doctor decides to run some tests.

– "Y/N, let's do some tests to understand what could be causing these symptoms." - The doctor said.

After some tests, Y/N and Cristiano anxiously await the results.

– "Well, here are the results... Y/N, congratulations. You're pregnant."

The office is filled with momentary silence as the news arrives.

Y/N, with tears in her eyes, looks at Cristiano, whose face lights up with a smile.

– "Pregnant? Cristiano, we're having a baby!" – Y/N smiles.

Cristiano stands up and pulls Y/N with him. She hugs her, while whispering in her ear:

– "I'm happy, love. This is amazing! We're about to be parents."

The doctor congratulates and gives guidance, and the couple leaves the office hugging each other, beginning to absorb the news.

– "We're going to be parents. I'm surprised, but happy." – Cristiano murmured.

– "Me too, Cris. This is the beginning of a new journey for us."

The Birth - July 2010

On a summer afternoon in Madrid, Cristiano and Y/N are in the living room of their house, anxious, knowing that their son would soon be here.

Y/N, who had already been having contractions since waking up, felt another one, deciding to get up to drink water.

– “Honey, is everything okay?” – Cristiano asked, a little worried, helping her to get up.

– "Yes, I'm just going to drink a glass of water." – As Y/N headed to the kitchen, something happened.

– "Cristiano, stay calm, okay? I think my water broke." – Cristiano, trying to remain calm, approaches quickly.

– "It's okay, my love. Let's go to the hospital. Stay calm, okay?"

– "I'm calm, love. Calm down. Help me go up to our room and get the bags." – Y/N said, while patting him on the shoulder.

Cristiano helped his wife climb the stairs and go to their shared bedroom, helping her change her clothes.

Cristiano was nervous and anxious, Y/N could see right through him. He went to the baby's room and took his and his wife's suitcase.

They get ready and head to the hospital, where the medical team promptly receives them.

In the delivery room, Cristiano remains next to Y/N, holding her hand affectionately.

– "You look amazing, love. We're about to meet our son." – Cristiano murmurs, kissing your forehead.

Y/N, between deep breaths, smiles at him. - "I look forward to meeting you."

The medical team guides Y/N, while Cristiano remains by her side, offering words of encouragement.

– "I'm here to support you at all times. You are strong, love."

The newborn's cries fill the room, and Cristiano and Y/N exchange an emotional look as they hold little Cristiano Ronaldo Jr.

- "He's so handsome." - Y/N murmurs, looking at the baby in her arms. – “I carried it for nine months and it looks like you.”

Y/N joked, earning a soft laugh from her husband. Cristiano takes his eyes off his son for the first time and looks up, finding his wife with a tired expression on her face, but he doesn't take his eyes off his son.

– "Thank you for everything, Y/N. He's perfect. I love you."

Y/N, exhausted, smiles as Cristiano gently caresses her face.

- "I love you."

It's been a month since Cristiano Ronaldo Jr.'s birth and the family's Madrid home is filled with baby babble. Júnior's grandmother, Dolores, is on her way to meet her grandson for the first time.

Dolores arrives at the family home in Madrid, eager to meet her grandson for the first time. The relationship between Dolores and Y/N dates back to 2006, when Cristiano introduced them, creating a special bond since then.

Cristiano welcomes his mother with open arms. – "Mom, I miss you! Come, you have to meet him."

Y/N, smiling, approaches and greets Dolores. – "Nice to see you again. I missed you."

– “From the moment Cristiano introduced us, I knew you were special.” – Dolores says kissing her daughter-in-law's cheek.

The three enter the room, where Cristiano Ronaldo Jr. is comfortably in his Moses-style bed, awake, curious about the visitor.

Dolores, moved, reaches out to take her grandson.

– "Hello, little Jr. You are the most precious jewel in this family."

Cristiano, looking at Y/N, expresses his gratitude. – "Mom, he's amazing, isn't he?"

– "Yes, Cristiano. And Y/N, I want to thank you. Since 2006, when Cristiano brought you into our lives, I always knew that you would be an essential part of this family."

Y/N, with tears in her eyes, replies: – "Dolores, it's a privilege to be part of this family, really. Cristiano and Jr., they brought more joy to my life."

– "You're not just part of this family, Y/N, you're like a daughter to me. Thank you for making my son happier and for giving us this incredible gift."

Y/N hugs Dolores from the side. – “Your words mean a lot to me. I am grateful for all your generosity and love.”

Cristiano approaches Y/N, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he watches his son in his mother's arms.

⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁴

[bahnloopi]

Your Broly Black ideas inspired me, so here's some random thoughts I had about them:

Broly Black (Z):

Zamasu wished to "Swap bodies with the mortal that hates Son Goku the most", and either just took Broly's body from that world OR Z Broly hated him so much that the Super Dragon Balls pulled him and his body through the multiverse.

Spear for a weapon, perhaps becoming a Trident as he powers up (connotations of Royalty that Zamasu would surely enjoy + the mental image of Black stabbing Trunks with a Trident with an evil grin is powerful)

Would get the most affected by this body's personality, leading to a very spiteful and downright malicious Saiyan that would take more and more joy from his actions as he goes on.

Worst relationship with Immortal Zamasu as the two slowly become different people, maybe culminating in them outright refusing to fuse.

If they did, then Merged Zamasu would end up being so much worse, his body breaking down quicker with cracks breaking into his immortal side aswell. In addition, the immortal body having a way higher capacity alongside way less stability means Merged Zamasu would end up being a bomb when he dies, his overflowing ki risking the whole galaxy.

Rose Legendary would likely fuse into a single aura and form, enhancing all his worst traits as he continues to enhance it. I'd imagine it'd start more lean, slowly growing more Buff until he rips his shirt (reflecting how Zamasu loses himself to his Saiyan side as he connects to the body).

Broly Black (Super):

Zamasu decided to think his wish through more and used the Time Ring to go back in time to watch Gokus major battles, trying to figure out what he had to let him get so far.

And he notices a few things, like Goku using godly techniques (if he would go on to force the knowledge of both techniques from that pitiful "King" Kai, then he would never tell) and Goku beating someone that stole his body already (darn it Ginyu) but, above all else...

He can adapt. He may lose, but he comes back stronger each time. And Zamasu needed to find a way around that.

And so, he wished on Super Shenron to "Swap bodies with the Saiyan with the highest latent potential", giving him the body of Broly.

... shame he has no clue who Broly is, and he won't find Vampa for... a while.

Most affected by the bodies rage, him losing himself into it until he doesn't even care (the whole way he says he has control over it)

His weapon would be something more blunt and martial, such as something simmilar to knuckle dusters or boxing gloves.

Legendary Rose wouldn't be one Merged form as it is too far away from Zamasu's personality to blend easily. Instead, it would be a clash between the two, the Divine simplicity and mortal emotion clashing like trying to hold magnets together.

Gets on well with Immortal Zamasu until he snaps and transforms, fooling only himself when he says that he has control over this brutal form.

Merged Zamasu flat out wouldn't happen, with Zamasu refusing to merge with a berserk Saiyan out of control and instead teaming up with the heroes temporarily to stop Black

Kale Black:

Gonna be honest, can't think of a reason for this one beyond maybe "Zamasu waits a bit, sees the U6 expo / ToP and notices how strong Kale was"

The Most nothing of the Black Beserkers ngl.

Weapon would 10000% be two Great Axes, one over each shoulder.

Could maybe tie the U6 saiyan biology being different into the form, with God Ki manifesting differently in them (alongside Zenkais, with the U6 saiyans likely not needing them as much as our U7 folk and maybe having weaker ones as a result.)

Let me be the one to tell you these are all f i r e headcanons and a great chunk of them are ideas I had myself and I love these. This was what I wanted when I challenged the fandom to write his lore. So good

[chowaya]

Monoma headcannons :

— as much as most people think it would be toxic with dating Monoma, they would be wrong. I can see complications but that's all settled if the chance to communicate and set boundaries was given and taken.

— forces you to watch the Lord of the rings franchise and the hobbit but still talks over the movie. ( probably to explain some heavy detailing and differences between the books )

— had a weird style phase, he finds it embarrassing but shoves it off by saying it was a needed canon event to develop such expertise and taste as him. So he finds ways to match your outfits even when your styling and aesthetic is different from each other.

— is more likely to have piercing than tattoos.

— has sticky notes all over his room that contain context from all sorts of quirks and the techniques to use them, mathematics formulas, history notes, lyrics or poems, favourite lines from books he's read or some incoherent affirmation that he's the hottest and the best.

— hated conflict as a child now, now he stirs all the pot that is available to him. And does he give a sht? Not really.

— popular among the girls because of his eyelashes. They're somewhat in love and jealous at the same thing.

— not a dog or cat person but a bugs and snake person. Had hyper fixations on moths and reptilians— he will talk to you about them if he trusts you enough to not make fun of him. But will elaborate with heavy detail if you find either of them disgusting or scary— just to annoy you.

— doesn't like gift giving that much. Prefers forms of affections from physical touch ( secretly ) , acts of service ( high on this) and lowkey quality time. He prefers giving words of affirmation rather than receiving only because he doesn't know how to react.

— but if gift giving is someone's love language who is he to give that person an opinion of his. He's not hellbent on hating it. Truly adores it if the gift is well thought through or handmade— he values the time and soul of others that put into it.

— finds waist beads, belly cabins and belly piercings hot.

— has this concept that pale skinned people and dark skinned people look best under moonlight while tan and brown skins look best under the sun.

— a Swiftie that relates to 🧺🩹🗝🧸🪞🌿 but prefers 🍾💫🫧🎟🥂📸 music

— also listens to chase Atlantic. A blonde arrogant mean cocky guy that we all would know would totally be a flirt? It fits.

— if he would get a tattoo of his significant other, he would get a tattoo of their eyes.

— wants love, affection and attention and receiving it without having the feeling that he asked for it.

— sucks at mobile games, he's not interested in them that much.

— he prefers to not be around children, he thinks he isn't so experienced or good with them but he's literally a toddler magnet. Especially the real ones who spout whatever they think and the ones who're extremely quiet and shy.

— has divorced parents and is thankful for that everyday.

— will let 1-B girls or his significant other do his makeup, much more prefers if it's natural and enhances his features but he doesn't mind douyin or k-beauty makeup. He likes the glitters but hates heavy matte looks.

— amazing time management and is always early to things. That's canon at this point.

— and last but not least, he's the most amazing, spectacular, outstanding, gorgeous, pretty, ethereal, intelligent, showstopping boy. And I'm sad I don't have him 🫠

[dc-and-arfrona]

Crushing

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Based of this prompt/anon ask:

can you please do jason todd crushing on a star sapphire reader?

Word Count: 700+

Type: Fluff

Masterlist

----

I couldn't take my eyes off them. The way their emerald green eyes sparkled with a cosmic energy, mirroring the power of the Star Sapphire ring that adorned their finger. They were captivating, a beacon of light in the darkness that consumed my nights. Every time they entered the room, my heart would skip a beat, and I found myself drawn to their magnetic presence.

Their energy was unlike anything I had ever encountered. It was vibrant and alluring, like a celestial dance in the night sky. I watched as they effortlessly wielded the power of love, radiating warmth and compassion to those around them. It was as if they held the universe within their very being, and I couldn't help but be enchanted by their celestial grace.

But it wasn't just their powers that fascinated me. It was the way they embraced their role as a Star Sapphire, protecting love and nurturing the hearts of others. Beneath that ethereal exterior, I saw a soul that understood pain, loss, and the yearning for redemption—a soul that mirrored my own.

Yet, I couldn't help but feel a pang of longing every time I saw them with another hero, sharing moments of tenderness and understanding. A part of me wished I could be the one to ignite their passion, to be the recipient of their unwavering love. But I knew, deep down, that I wasn't deserving of such a cosmic connection. My past, stained with blood and vengeance, made me unworthy of the purity they embodied.

Still, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to hold them close, to feel the power of their love enveloping me. Would it be a soothing balm for the scars etched into my soul? Would their touch bring solace and redemption, washing away the darkness that clung to me? The thought consumed me, igniting a flame within my heart that refused to be extinguished.

One day, as fate would have it, we found ourselves alone together, a rare moment of solitude in the chaos of our lives. The courage welled up within me, and with a steady voice, I spoke the words that had been haunting my thoughts.

"Hey," I began, my voice laced with a mix of nervousness and hope. "I've been wanting to ask you something. Would you... would you consider going out on a dinner date with me?"

Their eyes widened with surprise, a momentary pause hanging between us. I feared the rejection that might follow, but to my astonishment, a smile tugged at the corners of their lips.

"I'd love to," they replied, their voice filled with a hint of excitement. "I've always admired your strength and resilience, Jason. It would be an honor to spend an evening with you."

Relief flooded through me, mingled with a newfound sense of joy. It was as if the universe had aligned, granting me a chance to be closer to the one who embodied love in its purest form.

And so, as the day of our dinner date approached, I found myself counting the minutes, my heart filled with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. This wasn't just any date—it was a chance to explore the possibility of love and redemption, a chance to discover if our paths could intertwine and create a bond stronger than the forces that tried to tear us apart.

The anticipation and nerves coursed through my veins as I waited for the Star Sapphire reader to arrive at the restaurant. Every passing second felt like an eternity, and I found myself anxiously scanning the entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of them.

And then, just like a radiant shooting star streaking across the night sky, they walked through the doors. Time seemed to stand still as I laid eyes on them, their presence captivating the entire room. They exuded an otherworldly grace, their ethereal beauty enhanced by the soft glow of the Star Sapphire ring.

My heart skipped a beat as their emerald green eyes locked with mine, a smile lighting up their face. In that moment, the worries and doubts melted away, leaving only a profound sense of gratitude and excitement. The universe had conspired to bring us together, and I couldn't help but feel blessed.

They made their way towards me, their steps filled with grace and confidence. Each movement was like a celestial dance, and I found myself transfixed by their mere presence. As they reached the table, their smile widened, filling the space between us with warmth and a touch of enchantment.

"Jason, it's so good to see you," they greeted, their voice a melodic harmony that resonated deep within me. "Thank you for inviting me."

I managed to find my voice, though it trembled slightly with a mixture of awe and nervousness. "The pleasure is all mine. I've been looking forward to this evening."

As we settled into our seats, the atmosphere seemed to shift, cocooning us in an intimate bubble. The conversations flowed effortlessly, as if we had known each other for a lifetime. We laughed, we shared stories, and with each passing moment, I discovered new layers to the Star Sapphire reader's captivating personality.

Their compassion and understanding shone through in every word, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of ease and comfort in their presence. It was as if the weight of my past was momentarily lifted, replaced by a newfound hope that love, in its purest form, had the power to heal even the deepest wounds.

Throughout the evening, my admiration for them grew, transcending the boundaries of infatuation. They were not just a cosmic entity or a symbol of love; they were a person—a beautiful, complex soul who had endured their own struggles and triumphs. And in their presence, I found solace, a beacon of light guiding me towards a future I never thought possible.

As the night drew to a close, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of melancholy. Time had flown by, and I didn't want the enchantment of our dinner date to end. But as we bid farewell, a promise hung in the air—an unspoken understanding that this was only the beginning of our journey.

I watched them walk away, their radiant energy fading into the night. My heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude, hope, and a newfound determination. I knew that whatever the future held, I had been blessed with the gift of experiencing the extraordinary love and grace that resided within the Star Sapphire.

As they walked away, disappearing into the night, an intense surge of emotions overcame me. The realization that I couldn't let this moment slip away hit me like a bolt of lightning. Without a second thought, I pushed back my chair and hurriedly rose from my seat, determination blazing in my eyes.

"Wait!" I called out, my voice filled with a mix of urgency and longing. They turned around, their eyes widening with surprise as they saw me rushing towards them.

I closed the distance between us, my heart pounding in my chest. In that moment, time seemed to stand still, the bustling city fading into the background as the only thing that mattered was the connection between us. I reached out and gently took hold of their hand, my touch sending a jolt of electricity through both of us.

Their eyes searched mine, a question lingering in their gaze. Without uttering a word, I leaned in, closing the gap between us, and pressed my lips against theirs. The world around us vanished, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as if everything fell into place.

The kiss was a revelation—a convergence of passion, vulnerability, and unspoken emotions. It spoke volumes, conveying the depths of my affection and the desire to explore a future together. The warmth of their lips against mine was both electrifying and tender, a testament to the connection we shared.

When we finally parted, a shared breathless silence enveloped us. I looked into their eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty. But all I found was a reciprocation of the feelings that had been building between us, mirrored in their gaze.

A soft smile played upon their lips, and they whispered, "I've been waiting for this moment too, Jason."

In that instant, the weight of the past and the burden of unworthiness lifted from my shoulders. The love and acceptance I had been yearning for, the redemption I thought was beyond my reach, was standing right in front of me.

Hand in hand, we continued our journey through the night, knowing that the path ahead wouldn't be without its challenges. But with love as our guide, we faced the future with renewed hope and the shared understanding that, together, we could overcome anything.

[quirkwizard]

Quirk idea based on Shang Chi’s MCU rings:

Power Rings is an emitter quirk that allows the user to manifest ten metaling rings around their arms, 5 on each arm. They can telekinetically control the rings and fire them out and magnetically attract them back. When worn, they augment the strength of that limb, with all ten on one limb being strong enough to create a shockwave around them when they strike the ground(nothing too big, maybe something like 20% ofa). The user can put them on others to boost their strength. They can spin all the rings around them to block attacks, wrap them around somebody, launch themselves or augment their legs to run and jump faster and stronger. Though this does take a lot of practice to master this quirk. It’s not necessary but martial arts and having a strong body will help immensely for potential. The rings can’t melt but do conduct electricity and heat. They magnetic pull is strong when the rings are lying around or in the air but will struggle if they’re pinned down or grabbed which could make them vulnerable

Small rule of thumb: not a great idea to compare your Quirk to "One For All", at least when it comes to power. Because even at Twenty Percent, Izuku was leagues stronger then most adult pro heroes.

So I think a lot of this could work, but it needs some changes. The biggest issue I see with it is the variety of options and how good they all are. These can enhance the user to extreme degrees, they can fling around at high speeds and use them to augment other people. It's just too much for one power. And instead of trying to reign it in, you dump so many drawbacks on top of it. The weakness to heat, electricity, and magnetism, the need for training from the user, the reliance on the user's physical abilities. This feels like three Quirks in one, and it should be narrowed down to one or the other. Of the three, I think it should be either about making and flinging rings around or enhancing the user with the rings. Both could work, but the former, I believe, is more unique and fits better with the downsides you have set up, namely the control of it requiring practices, the various physical weakpoints of the rings, and them getting stuck. And if you want to go with empowering, the user could know everything about dividing up the power of the rings between the body parts and how much the user needs to train their body to make them work.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

YN The Hunter:

Dealing with Gon and Killua pt. ✌🏻

Hunter Hunter characters x gn! Reader

Warnings: Ging 🙄; Gon being a himbo in the making, Killua being a turd, so much swearing

A/N: A part two was requested and since I have absolutely zero impulse control, I shall spinkle the feed for headcanons for everyone to enjoy 🥰

Are you cursed YN?

I think you're definitely cursed

Because literally as soon as you got rid of Gon and Killua you almost instantly got them back 🙄

It’s like you are the magnet and Gon is the metal

And with Gon comes Killua so too bad so sad Yn

The Bain of your existence, Ging 😌, is always causing you trouble

Literally man’s will pawn his kid off on anyone at this point

Like how did he keep Gon alive as a baby? There’s just no way, NO WAY

Anyways 🙄

He probably sent you some cryptic message telling you to meet him in the Greed Island Game

He said, and I quote, "meet me in Greed Island, I've got something for you"

You knew it was a trap but a small part of yourself was like, “you know what? Maybe he’s changed? I should give him a shot!”

Because that’s how you are, you give people second chances!

It’s a pipe dream Yn, that bitch ain’t ever gonna change

Honestly how gullible are you because the literal minute you step foot inside the game you hear it

"AHHHHH YNS HERE :D"- Gon

Killua is literally walking behind him being all tough and stuff 🙄

You 👉🏻😐🙄 you can not be serious rn

This is what you get for giving people a second chance Yn

Biscuit is accompanying them and she looks exhausted

“Hello Gon, Killua, Biscuit, it’s nice to see you all,” you deadpan, “can’t believe you’re all here.”

So shocked 🙄

“I’m here to find my dad!” Gon says :D

“I’m here to help Gon,” Killua adds

“At this point, I don’t know why I’m here,” Biscuit chimes in

“Well it looks like Ging sent me to help you again boys so let’s get to it,” you say as Gon’s eyes light up 🤩

“Did you finally get your hunter license?” You say looking at Killua as he glares

“You wanna go?” He says as you smirk, Gon holding him back

You 👉🏻😐🙄

Well, at least, while you’re here you might as well play the elusive game that Ging developed right

Man has enough time to develop games but not enough time to raise his kid 🤨 ight-

Anyways, you manage to help Gon and Killua began to master there Nen Techniques

Since Gon is enhancement, you help him develop his jajanken

Which honestly is beyond fitting for a future himbo imma just put it out there 😂

Seriously it’s literally a rock, paper, scissors move which seems simple to others

But when you have explosive powers like Gon 👀

Literally this boy is beyond easy to train

“Gon you need to bottle up more strength,” you say

Gon 👉🏻 Ok Yn : D

“Gon stop holding back!” You preach

Gone 👉🏻 Got it YN : D

Killua on the other hand is good at Transmutation

Which lends excellent to his absolute to use electricity to disable his opponents

This boy really has a thing for cause harm 😬

But like given his upbringing, it’s not surprising honestly

Killua is kind of a pain in the ass, literally the kind of kid that would rather do things on his own

Like he’s teachable but he’s stubborn

“Killua you need to listen to me,” you say, trying to teach the feral child

Killua 👉🏻 Y tho 🤨

You 👉🏻 *rethinks entire life*

Unsurprisingly, you manage to survive and finish the game

Like ok- this was fun but you really need to be going now

“Ok welp, you guys, I best be on my way, so many hunter things to accomplish like finding Gon’s dad and ringing his neck,” you say ✌🏻

Then Gon has an absolutely fantastic idea because why not!

“Hey Yn! We are going to see Ging right now!!! Why don’t you come with us!” Gon :D

You 👉🏻 😐 this feels like a trap…

“But it’s not YN, see!” He says and him and Killua explain their amazing idea

You nod, kind of stunned that they would think of such an ingenious plan

“Alright but listen Gon, when I see Ging I’m get the first punch got it?!?” You say

Gon is just like “sure whatever I get to see my dad :D”

Killua is like excited because YNbis about to hand Ging an ass kicking

Once they bid fairwell to Biscuit, they head off in search of Ging

When you are transported, you arrive in a swap like area and you instantly know….

“SON OF A BITCH!” You scream as Gon and Killua look at you

Suddenly, some crazy ass ant comes out of now where, biting Killua

All hell breaks loose for like .05 seconds and then he appears

“Oh hey Yn, what are you doing here?” Kite asks as you glare at him

“Oh nothing just hanging out with my two wards,” you say, rolling your eyes as you plop down on the ground

“Well I’m glad you’re here Yn because, you see, I could really use your help,” he says

“Oh really now…” 👀

[karliahs]

just did an escape room and man i love them so much...it's so interesting to me how much a physical escape room environment adds to the experience versus those board game versions (which i also like!)

i love seeing the ways people use physical environments to enhance puzzles, and set up satisfying tactile inputs for puzzles especially. my fave room i ever did had a thing where there is like a big old timey ring of keys locked away from you through bars. like one of these:

and then you get a big stick. and have to poke it through the bars, hook the ring of keys and slide it over to where you can grab it. and that just delights my brain like nothing else

and my friends always make fun of me for how excited I get if a room involves a magnet but like. magnet! there's a key stuck at the bottom of a thing where you can see it but not grab it. the excitement of realising one of the components you've been given is a magnet...unparalleled

i think it's so fun how certain ways of manipulating an environment are just instinctively delightful. i think I've done multiple rooms where there's a big old fancy desk and when you solve a puzzle the back panel of the desk opens! and turns out it's a little tunnel you can crawl through! that's instinctively fun in the same way a secret bookcase door is fun

one room i did involved having to pour water in order to access certain things like...needing to use particular physical actions to solve a problem makes me feel like this guy:

big levers! little hidden switches! it's the best

i also just love being set loose in an environment in which rummaging is not only acceptable but necessary. you've gotta rummage. you've gotta search through those drawers and reach into little hidey holds and find stuff. i think my puzzling skills are not actually much above average but i am an exceptional rummager

most times when people tell me they don't like/want to do an escape room it's because they think they're bad at puzzles. which i think most of the time what they mean is that they don't like puzzles, and it's more polite to be self-deprecating than to outright say they don't like the thing I like, which is fine

but i think escape rooms are fun bc they perfectly demonstrate that you and everyone you know are both very dumb and the smartest person in the world. everyone's brain works differently and some puzzles will click for you perfectly and others will be incomprehensible.

today i had the experience of actually understanding how a puzzle worked but being incapable of communicating it in words. and then trying to succinctly while under time pressure communicate to my friends "my brain allows me to understand this puzzle but not to articulate anything about how it works in words. please just trust me and turn those cranks when i say." and similarly I've made it out of rooms where i would have no idea how to solve a particular puzzle in there, but i don't need to bc my friends' brains are different to mine and they've Got This

[archoneddzs15]

Sega Mega Drive - Sonic & Knuckles

Title: Sonic & Knuckles / ソニック＆ナックルズ

Developer: Sega / Sonic Team

Release date: 18 October 1994

Catalogue No.: G-4124

Genre: Action / Lock-On

The 4th and final Mega Drive Sonic game [in Japan at least] is quite a special one. For a start, the packing is nothing like all the other Japanese Mega Drive games. This comes in a card box quite similar to those used for Sega 32X games. The cartridge that you can see below is also completely different as well. This is the only Mega Drive cartridge to feature a "lock on" option. What this does is allow you to add other cartridges to Sonic & Knuckles to enhance the gameplay and unlock extras or at least that's how Sega put it. The lock-on feature only works with Sonic 2 and 3, however. What this does is allow you to play as Knuckles in Sonic 2 or 3 even though he wasn't originally available in those games.

This time the game focuses on Sonic as well as Knuckles, who was not yet playable in Sonic 3. Instead, however, Tails has now been removed from play. Essentially there are two separate games to tackle, depending on which character is selected at the start of the game. Although the appearance of the zones is the same for either character, their layout and some of the bosses' tricks differ noticeably at several points in the game, increasing from the Lava Reef Zone onwards. However, the style of play does not differ significantly from one character to the next as it does, for example, in Sonic Adventure.

The next bit of information is taken from Wikipedia, which I admit is not the best method of research since the site can be easily manipulated.

Chapter 1: Sonic the Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles

In "Sonic the Hedgehog 3 & Knuckles" also known as 'Sonic 3 & Knuckles' (often referred to as the "complete" version of Sonic 3 by Sonic fans). There are four immediate differences: The player can play as Knuckles in the Sonic 3 levels. After the levels of Sonic 3 are finished, play continues straight to the levels of Sonic & Knuckles.  The player can play as Tails in the Sonic & Knuckles levels. Game progress can be saved in Sonic & Knuckles using Sonic 3's save feature (there are now 8 rather than 6 save slots). 

Once the player picks a character and starts playing, more differences become apparent. Passing a star post can now open up 3 bonus games, including the slot machine stage (20 rings required) and the magnetic orbs stage (35–49 rings required) from Sonic & Knuckles as well as the gumball machine (50–65 rings required) from Sonic 3. Knuckles' levels are divergent from Sonic's and Tails' in most cases, with new areas and bosses.

Sonic and Tails skip the final boss of Launch Base while Knuckles still has to do it although he skips the first true boss of Launch Base. The Sonic & Knuckles levels are the same, except that Mushroom Hill now has an intro. Sonic 3 & Knuckles save files conserve lives and continues, as well. In addition, Knuckles' theme music has also changed as well as that of the mid-level bosses. Other tunes such as the 1-Up fanfare and title screen have also been changed to the S&K version. Monitor (power up) placement and type change when the games are combined. Also, an extra Chaos Emerald bonus stage has been added to the linked game—it is not present in either of the two separately.

This stage and its Super Emerald counterpart give a Golden (Seriously) Emerald that acts as an emerald of that kind but is not recorded in the save data nor does it appear with the Chaos or Super Emeralds.

Super Tails in Mushroom Hill Zone. Collecting all the Chaos Emeralds in the levels of Sonic 3 will turn Sonic or Knuckles into Super Sonic or Super Knuckles. However, once the player enters their first Special level in Mushroom Hill Zone (which is almost impossible to miss with Knuckles since it's in his way), they teleport to Hidden Palace where the emeralds are transformed into gray "Super Emeralds", thus beginning the Super Emerald quest. Super Emeralds can only be collected if the player has collected all of the Chaos Emeralds prior to reaching Mushroom Hill Zone. (Nothing happens in Hidden Palace otherwise.) In addition, both Knuckles and Sonic can now power-up and go "hyper" once they have obtained both the Chaos Emeralds and the Super Emeralds.

Tails cannot normally gain emerald powers but do so when he collects all Super Emeralds, taking on the form of Super Tails. He has no "hyper" form but simply remains "super" with some extra powers. Taking care to avoid all the Special levels (the one after the cut-scene in particular), it is possible to finish the game with only the 7 Chaos Emeralds, retaining their "super" powers until the very end of the game. In this case, the game endings will resemble the "good" endings from Sonic & Knuckles. This allows for a total of nine different endings—each character (Sonic and Tails together have the same as Sonic alone) has one with 0–6 Chaos Emeralds, one with all 7 Chaos emeralds, and the third with all 14 Chaos and Super Emeralds. If the Super Emeralds have been attempted, but not found, the game will revert to the "bad" (0–6 Chaos) ending.

Chapter 2: Knuckles the Echidna in Sonic the Hedgehog 2

Sonic 2 & Knuckles also known as "Knuckles the Echidna in Sonic the Hedgehog 2", this game is identical to Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (aside from a few changes to make it more playable with Knuckles) but with Knuckles now playable instead of Sonic or Tails. The title screen features Knuckles, and the only option is "start" (Options or versus mode have been disabled). There are no new zones. The only difference in gameplay is that Knuckles can explore once inaccessible areas (where secrets such as 1-ups have been added for Knuckles), some areas are harder because Knuckles can't jump very high and accelerates slowly (in particular, the final boss is regarded as being much more difficult to beat while playing as Knuckles), and Knuckles retains his rings after a Special Stage, making it much easier to obtain Chaos Emeralds. Getting the Emeralds is easier too, for the Special Stages have reduced Ring quotas for Knuckles to achieve.

Chapter 3: Blue Sphere

Opening of the Blue Sphere mini-game. By placing the first Sonic game, or most other Sega games inside, a "No way? No way!" screen will pop up with Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Robotnik making odd faces, telling you the cartridge is supposedly incompatible. But, by pressing the A, B, and C buttons together, a mini-game based on the Chaos Emerald bonus levels is unlocked, called Blue Sphere. There are 134,217,728 of these levels. Only by locking the original Sonic the Hedgehog game (the Sonic Compilation works as well) in the Sonic & Knuckles cart, one can play through *all* the stages. The other Genesis games will only play one level each, which will infinitely repeat. Despite being nearly randomly generated, the levels are playable for the most part, even if many bits and pieces of levels get recycled.

In Sonic Jam and Sonic Mega Collection, Blue Sphere is playable as a separate game. Sonic Jam allows you to play it by choosing to play Sonic & Knuckles and then choosing to "lock it on" with Sonic 1. In Mega Collection, the game has to be unlocked separately.

On September 11, 2005, a Sonic game modifier named Stealth created a hack that allowed you to play Knuckles in Sonic 1 called Knuckles the Echidna in Sonic the Hedgehog, with all of Knuckles' unique abilities intact. Playing these levels via a game with battery backup erases saved games. Additionally, games made after Sonic & Knuckles was released will not work with its lock-on feature. There are only a few games made before Sonic & Knuckles that do not work, such as Phantasy Star IV.

[jonahdeforest]

Zola: Digital Storytelling and Racial Performance

“Y'all Wanna Hear A Story?...”

Zola is a glittering piece of postmodernism, filtering the infinite jest of touch screen technology through the medium of film. This is appropriate, considering its source material – a 148-Twitter thread from 2015. Narrated with lacerating wit by Aziah “Zola” King, the thread details the Detroit-based waitress’ wayward excursion to Tampa. Packed with suspenseful twists and turns, it's only natural that it eventually became a feature length film. After years of middling in development hell, Zola was eventually released in 2020. Directed with auteur sensibilities by Janicza Bravo, Zola uses a road-trip from hell to interrogate (or subvert) American race-relations, transaction and bodily autonomy. 

The plot unfolds on the heels of a newfound friendship. Zola (the magnetic Taylour Paige) meets Stefani (Riley Keough) at her waitressing job and the two strike up a bond. Both strippers on the side, they appear to be cut from the same cloth – funny, street-smart hustlers and practitioners of a particular brand of femininity. This femininity is one patterned off of Black womanhood and Stefani, who is white, is shameless in her racial posturing. With stray braids, slicked down baby hairs and the unmistakable accent of a white girl imitating Blackness, Stefani represents a post-racial spectacle of appropriation. Keough delivers a comic tour-de-force performance, ringing each AAVE-inflect line with the appropriate amount of misplaced conviction. That Keough is the granddaughter of Elvis is not really relevant, but it does add just a pinch of subversiveness to the proceedings. 

Shortly after they meet, Stefani invites Zola to strip with her in Tampa. Joining them are Stefani’s misbegotten beau (Nicholas Braun, giving a masterclass in patheticism) and her enigmatic, increasingly shady “roommate” (Colman Domingo). Zola comes to discover that she is in the throes of a trafficking scheme and that Stefani’s intentions may not be as innocent as she proclaims them to be. In her essay “Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance,” author/academic bell hooks writes of cultural appropriation and its manifestation in the media at large. She writes that, “The overriding fear is that cultural, ethnic, and racial differences will be continually commodified and offered up as new dishes to enhance the white palate – that the Other will be eaten, consumed, and forgotten.”

In many ways, Zola functions as a story of otherness – specifically White consumption of the other. Stefani is the walking embodiment of white consumption and continual exploitation/coercion of Zola only emboldens this quality. Zola, on the other hand, is expected to look out for Stefani, opining at one point, “Who’s looking out for me?” This line is indicative of Zola’s compromised safety as a Black woman – a figure who is expected to take care of everyone but herself. When Stefani tells her pimp that, “Zola made me a whole new bitch,” she is literally referring to Zola’s help in increasing her net value in the realm of sex work, but more implicity speaking her debt to Black womanhood as a means of adornment. 

Zola and Stefani are depicted as mirror images of one another, both literally and figuratively. Bravo follows in the footsteps of many a psychodrama in her choice to present the two as spiritual twins. Walking down a hallway in corresponding outfits or gazing upon their reflections, they are both augmentations of one another and so completely diametrically opposed.

Elsewhere in her aforementioned essay, hooks states that, “Cultural appropriation of the Other assuages feelings of deprivation and lack that assault the psyches of radical white youth who choose to be disloyal to western civilization.” This feels like an appropriate diagnosis of Stefani, someone who exists outside of white parameters and thus adopts Blackness in relation to her perceived outsider status. 

Bravo has described her films as existing a step-away from reality. This is fitting for a film like Zola, which renders a stranger-than-fiction story into filmic material. In a profile of Bravo for The New York Times author Jenna Wortham wrote:

Her movies are reminiscent of being on psychedelics — the way even the most mundane interactions become revealing, exquisite and worthy of intense examination, and the way something humorous can seem sinister for a flicker of a second before shifting back into levity. Bravo specializes in exploring the way seeing clearly can happen in an instant and permanently alter your experience of yourself and your life.

Bravo walks a tonal tightrope, but through the imaginative force of her storytelling, manages to pull it off.

Shimmering in neons and buzzing like a smartphone, Zola occupies a distinctive sonic and visual landscape. There are qualities that seem like a callback to old Hollywood: orchestral swells and grandiose title cards. These stylistic nods come across a little cheeky, especially considering the ways in which Zola rejects the Hollywood formula. Aided by playwright provocateur Jeremey O. Harris (who co-wrote the screenplay), Bravo presents a narratively frenetic fever dream that sidesteps convention at every turn. Even though Zola is unequivocally the narrator, the nature of authorial authority is subverted in a sequence where Stefani speaks to the camera, telling her side of the story.   

In the Western sphere, stripping is one of the more fascinating, and literal, representations of our bodies’ entanglement with capitalism. The physicality, the need to appease and titilate, the showering of dollars. All of it seems like a particularly charged ritual of commerce. Zola does not incriminate the profession nor does it glorify it. For the titular character, the act of stripping has an autoerotic verve to it: through it she is able to explore the dimensionality of her selfhood. This is most evident in a sequence in which Zola envisions the different personas she can adopt before a performance. Repeating, “Who you gonna be tonight?,” she appears in multitudes, as if in an elaborate musical number (yet another moment that made me recall the stylistic grandeur of Old Hollywood).  

If this moment is any indication, Zola is a film in which pleasure and pain are offered up with equal aplomb. It is a disorienting and spellbinding exercise in absurdism, confounded by the fact that its story is ripped from the digital headlines.

Work Cited:

bell hooks, “Eating the other: Desire and resistance.” In Black Looks: Race and Representation, pp. 21–39. Boston: South End Press, 1992.

Wortham, Jenna. “How She Transformed a Viral Twitter Thread about Sex Work into a Sinister Comedy.” The New York Times, The New York Times Company, 16 June 2021, www.nytimes.com/2021/06/16/magazine/how-she-transformed-a-viral-twitter-thread-about-sex-work-into-a-sinister-comedy.html.

@theuncannyprofessoro

[thesalemwitchtries]

Dreaming Of a Grave: Chapter Seven

Masterlist

Word Count: 6,379

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Named! Fem! Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Reader has a name and is able-bodied: there is no other physical description, the name is just there bc I cannot write in 3rd person to save my life. Personification and grief for a robot, nausea, bullets and gun-use, I make a lot of shit up about robotics, trauma, discussion of corrupt cops, minor character deaths mentioned, swearing, canon-typical violence, and going non-verbal

Taglist: @reblog-reblog666 @writtenbyred

Sorry this is a day late, I wrote a lot more than anticipated and didn't have to time to proofread it all yesterday. Thank you so much for reading! Any comments or feedback are much appreciated!

It was drizzling by the time Charlie stood over the body of her friend. Face down in a puddle, deflated.

His vinyl skin was covered in mud and bits of asphalt; components along his spine sparking. She was lucky he hadn’t caught fire with the various fluids from his core pooling around him. Tearing a bit of her shirt and wrapping it around her fingers, she reached in and disconnected his battery to stop the sparks.

Her hands fumbled around looking for the dead weight fail-safe, glitching and ghosting through his skin. The tears in her eyes already making it hard to see what she was doing. She sat back on her feet and scrubbed at her cheeks. 

“Get it the hell together, Char.”

They needed to get out of here, someone could be coming back and she wasn’t going to leave him again. The bullet lodged in Tree’s display and the open way she could see his spine was making her sick.

This was all her fault. She’d sat there, watching from across the main street as her friend was shot. 

He’s not Leon. Not dead.

A shuddering breath, and she finally found the electro-magnetic repulsor at the top of his spine. Attaching the device to the battery, she twisted the outer ring until she felt a click, and the cool blue light snapped on.

The other one was still covered by loose vinyl, so she grabbed at each side of his main tear and ripped it wider. 

Not Leon. Not alive.

The lower repulsor was there at his hips, and she activated it as well before turning Tree onto his back.

About the same size and shape of a hockey puck, the electro-magnetic repulsion field generators were able to do what she couldn’t: lift Tree’s poly-carbonite frame, all 450 lbs. He bobbed about three feet in the air, his hands and feet just kissing the ground. She pushed through a wave of nausea.

Not Leon. No, he was what you built to make up for failing Leon. Another selfish mistake.

Charlie sighed, grabbing Tree’s hands and beginning to drag him home. They had been so close before, just feet away from the door, if only she hadn’t stopped. 

The repulsors worked to lift, but they didn’t make it too much easier to carry him. She had to really throw her weight into each step, going at a snail’s pace. It was thirty minutes before she made it to her building, and almost another fifteen before she’d climbed up all those stairs. Once she kicked her door open, Igor nearly ran her down in his haste to inform her of everything that’d happened since she left. 

“Igor put out all of the fire. There were a lot but Igor did it.” His little ball-joint shoulders lifted from their sockets in an approximation of a shrug. “Was easy.”

Almost tripping over him again, Char left Tree to hover limply in the entryway.

Rain was dripping in through the open window, splashing across her workbench. The glass and potting soil were gone, the only dirt on the floor now was the mud she tracked in. Scraping her schematics into a haphazard pile, she tossed them onto the small kitchen counter, Igor still at her heels.

“Mess. You make more mess.” he said, slapping a hand at the back of her calf. It passed right through her, the stress and exhaustion manifesting into a loss of control.

Charlie side-stepped, vacantly pulling off her boots to appease him. She needed something to drink, desperately. Various grime and muck lined her mouth and if it didn’t get rinsed out right now she thought her head might explode.

Focusing hard on her hands until the flickering stopped, and then trying a few times before she was able to open the cabinet rather than reaching through it.

“Igor will clean it. No problem.”

She nodded along, only half aware of what she was agreeing to as she drained a plastic cup. The grip that she had on it was unwavering now, but things had a way of phasing through her hands when she was this upset. Although it wasn’t as bad as allergy season; springtime necessitated plastic dishware for every meal. 

“That is why Igor got Sticker. Marisol gave him Sticker because Igor is a good bot. Cleans messes and saves scaredy-cats.”

He had climbed his ramps to sit beside the sink now, watching her eagerly. Finishing off a second glass of water with some aspirin, she finally stopped to take in what Igor was saying. The little thing was almost vibrating with excitement.

“Sticker?”

The bot tapped at his shell, where a pink and purple unicorn sticker lay in pride of place on his empty lapel. It looked like a medal of honor, albeit one very similar to those decorating the Hernandezes’ front door. Despite the limitations of having just two curved lines per eye to emote with, each blink conveyed a glowing sense of pride.

“Igor has Sticker because of being brave. Igor is a good bot.”

Charlie found herself about to cry, even as she smiled down at her little friend.

Stroking carefully over his head, she reassured him. “Yes, Igor, you’re a very good bot— the best bot. It seems like you had everything handled while we were away.”

“Yep. Igor is good, house is clean. Was.”

She laughed, “I know, I’m sorry.”

Amazing how a little positive reinforcement had affected his attitude. It was almost a pet peeve of his if anyone made a mess after he’d already finished his chores for the day.

The only thing he seemed to find more frustrating was when Garbanzo wouldn’t stop napping just because Igor had decided it was mandatory play time. Still, he chirped happily; his wheels doing a giddy spin beneath him before he zipped off.

The levity he’d lit within her flickered out again as she looked back to Tree’s dangling arms.

Something had been scratching deep in the recesses of her brain while she trudged her way back home.

She’d left Triage defenseless, that one thought burning above the idea now crashing to the forefront of her mind. Scrambling over to Tree, a fold in her living room rug sent her to the floor, pushing herself back up with no mind to the pain. 

Kneeling beside Tree, she disengaged the repulsors; cringing at the loud thunk of his body on the hardwood. Although on second thought, noise ordinances probably weren’t anyone’s main concern tonight.

Leaning over the base of his neck, she examined the extent of the damage.

“Igor, flashlight.”

By her side in moments, he was almost solemn. “Hurt.”

“Yeah, he’s hurt.” Charlie whispered. “I’ll fix him though, it’ll be okay buddy.”

She shook away the echo of her memory, ‘I’ll fix it, I can fix it, I’ll be okay’, bending over broken parts once more.

Every neuron she had was firing off about how she’d left Triage, initiating Possum Mode and running away while he’d been shot at. Not stolen, not destroyed, just injured. He’d been unable to defend himself, but not defenseless.

Possuming had been an idea born partly from security and partly from paranoia. When initiated, Triage’s battery cut power to nearly all of his functions, leaving just a few active. His processors shut down, body became dead weight, and he couldn’t respond to stimuli.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t still see and hear. 

Usually Tree played possum when inspectors came over or a large van parked on the street made her paranoid. It was a way to prevent him from revealing to any interested parties how intelligent he was. Building a large robot in your home was weird, but the scale of his programming and development made him extraordinary, something to take note of. 

As an off-handed measure, Charlie had created an additional failsafe. So if worse came to worst, she’d have a record.

Not that it really mattered; whatever he witnessed would be happening to her, and no one would come around looking for answers. At least none that would know where to find them. Elena would do her best but she could barely work a cellphone camera. It still comforted her to know that if she went it wouldn’t be completely without a trace.

Tension eased from her shoulders once she got a closer look. The total damage didn’t matter yet, her sharp eyes scanning for the thin square case that lay buried between the hydraulics of his abdomen. Finding it unharmed, she traced the yellow wires that extended from either end, safely connecting to auxiliary databanks. These were what had driven her into a mad frenzy.

Every waking second of Tree’s life was recorded, video, audio, and complex biometric scans saved to an SSD in his head. After tonight she expected to find at least a terabyte of new data for him to sift through and learn from. That wasn’t the cause of her trembling hands. 

The only systems that remained functional while playing possum were Triage’s audiovisual sensory feeds and identifying biometric scan data. When the rookie cop and his partner had stood over him in that alley, Tree had been watching. Every word they’d said, the bullets they’d fired, each beat of their hearts, it was all captured and written on two separate drives.

The same ones that she was looking down at now, whole and ready for her to crack open.

Eagerly, she dug through the mess of couch cushions for her laptop: battered but operational. Just as she was about to connect the drives, download and sift through everything available, she was struck by a new thought.

What did it matter? 

Honestly, there was nothing that she was going to do with the information she found.

It’d be better just to go to sleep and start in on all the repairs tomorrow. It didn’t matter what they looked like; or that Tree probably got their badge numbers, blood types, and knew of every prevailing health condition they had. When he was fully operational, he could single them out on the subway platform at rush hour and that meant nothing.

Anything that she could use the information for would require involving someone else or risking her exposure. Even anonymously posting the video online could be traced back to her with the right incentive and resources.

What she’d witnessed was a crime; worse, the cover-up of a crime. She wasn’t blind to the implication of more, a larger structure behind the two crooked cops. That was a lot of trouble that she didn’t need to get involved in.

She’d already lost so much in just one day, was she willing to risk losing even more?

Yes. To her own surprise, she was willing to risk it.

This wasn’t the person that she wanted to be, hiding in solitude. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore, keeping herself safe was hurting people.

As long as she ignored the obvious shadows that were growing around the city— the one that took her in, that she belonged to — then she was allowing it to continue, to spread and harm. She had decided long ago that she was the only one who could pick the kind of person that Charlotte would be. And it wasn’t going to be the kind that put her own peace of mind over the welfare of others.

Jamming the cord into the drive with a bit more force than necessary, Char began to upload the data to her laptop hard drive.

Deciding that she wasn’t going to let the Shadow spread across her city was one thing; building a plan to stop it, was another. For tonight, she’d see what information she did have. After finding somewhere to stay for the night, a shower and a good night’s rest, she’d Sync and look around for the Shadows that she’d seen before, then split up the video into encrypted portions, hide a few copies across various servers as an insurance.

It was a relief to actually see how much Tree had caught, destruction of property, misconduct, the jackpot was, of course, when they actually totalled up their murders for her. This, combined with the footage from before the chase had to be enough evidence to convict, conspiracy or something like that.

Setting the video to replay, she began to pack everything she'd need to lay low for a few days.

“I’ve got you now, you bot-killing bastards.”

Gunfire erupted through the tunnels, Matt’s focus remaining behind him as he stormed his way back onto the street.

There was a part of him that felt obligated to witness, hold some morbid vigil over Vladimir’s death. He wasn’t a good man, Fisk had been right when he said that Vladimir enjoyed the hell he brought to other people’s lives.

Tonight though, for a brief and tenuous moment, they’d been allies.

Matt knew the stench of grief that clung around the Russian. Like him and his father, Vladimir and Anatoly only had each other. The loss didn’t make Vladimir a good person, nor did his sacrifice tonight. 

Still, these were his last moments on Earth; ones that would be erased alongside his memory. Fisk would pick the facts of the night and everything else would disappear. Vladimir, in his last moments on Earth would cease to exist.

The love he had for his brother, the fragments of a human soul, the harsh truth of his crimes; buried under lies. Matt would remember, alongside the other forgotten victims: the man who had sung in the back of the cab, Karen’s old boss, and especially innocents like Santino and Claire.

Shit, Claire. 

At a safe distance, melting into the shadows of a roof far from the tunnels where Vladimir lay cold, Matt dug out his burner. She needed to know he was alright, that he was grateful for her help and sorry to have scared her.

It was the least he owed her after everything.

He informed her of Vladimir’s death, knowing it wouldn’t change how she felt; hoping it might bring some kind of ease. The voicemail rang hollow with all its reassurances and apologies. Both of them were smart enough to know that his death wasn’t a victory for them, but for some larger predator lurking out of sight. There was hope to be had, but in the hearts of two realists, not much to be seen.

He dialed his answering machine next, needing to know if Foggy and Karen were alright before he called it a night.

The Devil had retreated within him as soon as he’d escaped; so there was no rage left to drown out the fear that swarmed him as he listened to Foggy’s frantic messages, Elena sobbing in the background.

After they’d been treated in the hospital, the tone changed; Foggy and Karen both trying to reach him. His eyes pricked up under the mask, already damp with sweat and rain. They were worried about him, needed to know if he was okay, would he please just call them back before Foggy ripped out his IV? 

It was another inescapable reminder that he was letting them down. In both of his lives Matt was doing everything that he could and it still wasn’t enough. He’d barely thought about them tonight, and meanwhile they’d been in danger. There was no way for him to have known unless he’d stayed in.

If he’d been at Elena’s with them, would there be anything that he could’ve done? Not likely, yet the what-ifs still grated at his conscience. 

There was one thing he could do to ease the feeling of failure. Karen mentioned that they hadn’t seen Charlotte, been unable to reach her either, and asked if could check in after he got back to them. Calling them back would have to wait until he got home, at least her building wasn’t too far out of his way. His screaming legs and back might hate him for it, but he’d do anything to stop drowning beneath all of his shortcomings. 

While he moved, he stretched his focus ahead.

It was a little game that he’d started playing as a kid, testing how far away he had to be from his destination before he could pick it up on one of his senses. He stopped playing it as often sometime in college. One of his law professors had worn so much Aqua Velva that once Matt opened his nose to it, there wasn’t a spot on campus he could find to escape it.

Tonight, he’d had his fill of violence; ears still ringing from the explosion, grit digging into his skin like a bed of nails, so much plaster dust in his mouth that he was sure he’d taste it in every meal for a week. As he got closer, he replaced the scents of fire and iron with potting soil and crisp electricity. The whirring mechanisms of her little robot reached him a block before the thump of her heart. 

He was on her roof when he heard the gunshots. Almost leaping over the edge before he registered the lack of fire, or bullets carving their way through the air, not to mention the strange crackling. A video, then; they weren’t real.

Maybe he was more on edge than he’d thought, if some Netflix action movie was sending him into a panic. It was a weird genre to pick after having your windows blown in, but to each their own, he supposed.

Matt dropped soundlessly onto the fire escape. Ordinarily the trip might’ve been quicker and more acrobatic, but he took it slow and cautious. There was a manhunt for him and he had fallen through two floors.

He paused, turning his head to observe the explosion site. Crews were digging out the dead, Matt already confident that they would find no survivors. Just over the heavy smell of ash and explosives was the lingering burst of gunfire.

While he mourned the loss of life, he was begrudgingly satisfied that no one else could be held hostage in the depths of that restaurant, remembering how the boy had shaken in his arms. At least the building was gone; the kidnappers and thugs buried within may not be held accountable the way he wished, but he wouldn’t lose any sleep over them.

Beside him, there was movement in the apartment. It sounded closer than it was due to the gaping hole in the side of the building. Most of the windows were blown out, but this floor and the one below had taken chunks of concrete and various infrastructure from the restaurant’s roof.

There weren’t a lot of people remaining on this side of the building, likely avoiding the damage and poor weather. It seemed that Charlotte had a similar idea, packing a bag of stuff in her bedroom while telling her robot what to grab for the cat meowing in the bathroom. 

Without conscious thought as to why, Matt stepped over the twisted edges of her window frame and into what he assumed was a living room.

There was a long table pressed against the sill beside him, and he ran his fingers over it. Metal, unfinished and welded together from scraps. Exhaust fumes lingered around the edge, suggesting it was made from an old bumper.

The slowing rain dripped around his hands as he followed the seams across the tabletop, absently looking for whatever project she’d been working on last. There was already one robot, was she working on another? Or perhaps she spent her time on something less exciting but more profitable, like electronics repair.

Elena hadn’t told them much, just that Charlotte was very smart with computers and machines, though the electrical repairs the building needed were beyond her knowledge. Everything was tucked away in its place, droplets of rain smearing under his touch.

It suddenly became very clear to him that he was an interloper, even if he had good intentions for being there.

He hadn’t meant to come inside at all, planned on just listening from the roof and moving on. Now here he was snooping through her living room, just one closed door away from being caught where he didn’t belong. It felt like he was in molasses, his body not catching up to what his mind already decided; he needed to leave soon.

Her laptop continued playing whatever he’d heard before, slamming shut just as his interest was piqued. 

“—no survivors, one witness—”

“Alright, that’s enough of that for tonight I think. Grab your power station bud.”

The robot moved to do what she asked, pausing in the far corner of the room. “Just mine?”

“Yeah, get his too.” Charlie said with a sigh. “He’s gonna need it once I fix him up.”

“He’s hurt.”

There was the squelch of her rubbing away tears, before she shouldered the bag. “I know, but those cops aren’t going to get away with it, we have evidence.”

Ice poured through his tired nerves. He had barely any energy left, just enough to remain upright and piece together a few key words.  Cops, hurt, evidence.

There was no way that she’d gotten video of cops on Fisk’s payroll, was there? This had to be unrelated, and he just wanted it to be something that he could use.

Then again, one of the bombings happened right next door, it wasn’t completely unbelievable that she wandered into something she wasn’t meant to see.

Thoughts of how she’d managed to get away alive evaporated when the bedroom door opened. Fuck, maybe he’d hit his head harder than he thought, coming here was an awful idea. She didn’t notice at first, too busy wrangling an electric cord into the side pocket of an overstuffed duffle bag. Matt froze as if that would prevent the inevitable, waiting in horror for her reaction. 

It was rather tame, all things considered. He’d been bracing for a scream but all he got was the duffle slamming to the ground. She was watching him from the corner of her eye, pupils dilating to take in everything that she could as she turned her shoulders to face him more.

Matt did the best he could to soften his posture, rounding his shoulders in and relaxing his fists. His guard wanted to stay up, given how much time he spent around threats while wearing the mask, he was unused to standing in anything other than a ready stance. Compromising, his face kept its grim set, the firm line of his mouth warning her to take him seriously.

He can hear the pounding of her heart, one he’s so familiar with when he’s behind the mask. It’s a lurch of fear that he’s come to relish in most nights, seeing the effect of his reputation spreading through low-level scum and professional criminals alike.

This sound, he hates. He knows he can’t take it personally, it's just adrenaline and uncertainty; the same wariness in every innocent he’s crossed paths with.

Still, the galloping pulse in their chests, the genuine animal terror he can sense always turns his stomach. Reminds him that there may be a difference between him and guys like Fisk, but he’s still monstrous in his own way.

There’s the rubber-band sound of muscle fiber tensing; she’s trying to shift very subtly. A sighted person, with not much fighting experience and less good sense might be fooled by the posturing.

Matt, however, was not caught by surprise when she pounced. Bracing himself to deflect her attack and gently restrain her, he was caught off guard by the direction of her movement. Not towards or away from him, but laterally, placing herself between him and something else.

He struggled to understand her motive. The new position left her at a disadvantage, the path to the exit was no longer a straight-shot, and she was blocked in on either side by a couch and a coffee table. Her phone was out of reach on the kitchen counter, and she hadn’t even looked in its direction.

No weapon that he could locate, but the tang of metal and the lingering gunpowder left him unwilling to rule out the option. Her hands raised in the space between them, palms flat and fingers wide. Almost as if she were appealing to him. 

The shift of her feet gave her away.

There was something behind her, mechanical but powered off, and her stance adjusted to spread, better shielding it. Shocked, his jaw twitched so as not to drop with understanding. She wasn’t positioning herself to attack, but to defend whatever it was behind her. Must be important. 

“If you want to take him, you’re going to have to kill me.”

This time he couldn’t stop the gape of his mouth, head tilting this way and that to dig up every detail of the room that he could. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in her voice, everything in her body telling him that she meant it, she’d make him kill her. With the proclamation, her fear had ebbed, setting his own nerves on edge. Just what was behind her anyway?

It was large, and smelled like melted plastic and gunpowder. The mechanics inside had all been disabled, likely due to the exposed wires and leaking hydraulics. There were bullets, fragmented and whole, buried within the interior frame. The evidence, he assumed. There was just one problem. 

“...Take who? There’s no one else here.”

“The bot may just be an ‘it’ to you, but he’s my friend.” Her voice cracked and she crouched down, arms spread to shield the lifeless robot. 

Matt held his own hands up, trying to convey that he meant no harm. His brain was kicking back to life, so excited to find a new lead that he was almost salivating.

As much as he enjoyed beating up mobsters and their ilk for information, he was tired of playing catch-up. Being the dog, as Vladimir had taunted him, wasn’t getting the results that he really needed. Besides, most of what he found during his ‘night-shift’ would be difficult to defend in court. Physical evidence, untainted by his new reputation? Pinch him, he must be dreaming.

Arranging his words into something he hoped might inspire trust, he was interrupted by Igor standing in the bedroom doorway. “It is late to be having guests, bed-time.”

He swiveled to face it, unable to be certain, but still somehow feeling like he was getting the stink-eye.

All he wanted was to help people and also go to bed before dawn, but it seemed that was too much to ask of God tonight. Having had enough, Matt stomped over to the door and slammed it closed in the robot’s face.

Turning back, he tried to calm his breathing and arrange his arms into something that might resemble casual ease. Charlie had clearly been startled, pulse racing again. She’d dug her heels in, floorboards creaking as she pressed her weight into the hunk of twisted metal at her back.

“Look, I’m not going to hurt you or take anything.” Matt said, keeping his voice as soft as it could be. One hand came up to press at his chest in earnest, before the scent of the bloody wraps made him drop it to his side. “I’m trying to keep people from getting hurt.”

A long moment stretched between them, and he huffed when there was no response from her beyond the strain of her legs. Socks slid on the wood as she continued to lean, to try to get away from him.

“I heard you saying that you had evidence, I can get that to the right people, I swear.”

Still nothing. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she was trying, but the lack of words seemed to puzzle them both equally. With a final quiver, she set her jaw tightly closed.

It was times like this he missed his sight, wished that his eyes could react and express. How useful it must be to communicate with someone else through a look, connect with a glance, or convey trustworthiness through nothing but his eyes. 

If she didn’t talk, Matt was left with no other options. Anyone else would be able to take off the mask and exchange something that only sighted eyes could.

There was a reason that people called them the windows to the soul, and Matt could remember it. Not the images per se but the sensation, looking at strangers and somehow knowing if they were kind, sad, or ill-intentioned. At least having some idea of a person’s nature without invading their privacy.

Nowadays it was like he stole the glimpses that he got of people, pilfering heartbeats and pheromones to find emotions that others could read in one glance. The pieces of non-verbal communication that he could parse through sound and movement always falling short of the whole.

It wasn’t an absence he could easily put into words; he felt it nonetheless.

Getting frustrated at what he couldn’t do wouldn’t help. His hands had been tied plenty of times, hell they were literally handcuffed a few hours ago, and he always figured something out.

Careful to keep his distance, Matt bent down to her level. Looming over her and growling wouldn’t help her trust him. Already he regretted losing his cool with Igor, she hadn’t been able to calm down like before.

This isn’t like the interrogations you’re used to. She’s already frightened enough.

Matt cleared his throat, trying to hold back a wince when she flinched. Great start. “Tonight, there were four bombings, someone targeting the Russian mob that operated around here.”

He could feel her watching him, shallow breaths and darting eyes the only sounds she offered. Settling in, she drew her arms back in towards her chest, the position still defensive. Fair enough.

“The man behind it is dangerous, he’s behind a lot of bad things that’ve been happening lately.” Her face twitched, the only sign of interest he could find, and he was going to run with it. “Do you remember the boy that was kidnapped in front of his father a few weeks ago?”

A timid nod and a frown was the only response, but he hadn’t expected more.

“He was held in the basement of the restaurant next door.” She made a choked noise; one that she’d meant to suppress, based on the way she stiffened again where she’d begun to loosen up. “Taken on the orders of the same man that blew the place to bits tonight.”

Muffled banging came from the bedroom behind them, Igor demanding that he be let out.

“I’m trying to bring him to justice, but the man is very powerful. He pays very well, lots of cops and city officials work for him.”

A spike of realization struck her, and Matt let it sink in before he moved in for the closing arguments; playing her sense of reason just like he would a jury. 

“After the bombs, the police showed up. I know they weren’t there to help people, and I think you know it too.”

Keeping her cards close, all she offered him was a noncommittal shrug.

“I saw them hurt people, but no one would believe it unless they had evidence.” Matt swallowed, trying to keep his impatience from getting the best of him again. “If you had some kind of proof, I could get it to people. Journalists and lawyers who would ask the right questions, expose all of the corruption.”

Matt pinpointed the exact second that he’d lost her, a panic rising as soon as he'd said ‘questions’. Vehemently she began to shake her head, and Matt allowed himself one ragged sigh to relieve the disappointment.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything.” He soothed, slowly standing and moving back to the window. “Just, think about sharing it with someone you trust? If anything happens to you, they may try to erase the truth. I don’t think that either of us want to let them get away with what’s happened tonight.”

Charlotte didn’t so much as blink while he turned away to leave, and without his super-senses he might’ve missed her wispy response.

“Okay.”

He allowed himself a pause, hearing her heart settle and muscles relax, waiting for some further conversation. Resting his curious fervor for now, he ducked back into the rain. With some sleep he may be able to find a better way to get that evidence.

In the meantime, one name rose above the tangle of leads in his head; Leland Owlsley. The key to cracking open the root of decay that’d wormed its way through his city.

Lounging in the lush interior of his blacked out SUV, the Kingpin watched as the chaos of the night faded. Even in all of his late nights staring at the wall beside his bed, he hadn’t dreamt of things going this well for him.

The Russians were gone, and any questions that might have been asked about that were already answered by the foolish Mask. Hell’s Kitchen was terrified, and he could be there to fan that fear— exploit it as he wished.

“Sir, I know you’re celebrating, but there’s been another minor tangle.”

A glass of something expensive and imported was calling his name, he thought there was still a bit of his favorite port left, the color reminding him now of Vanessa’s lipstick tonight.

Sighing, he adjusted his cuffs and looked to the man waiting patiently in front of him. “What is it, Wesley?”

“Reports came in from the two officers that responded to 42nd and 10th. There was a passerby; a woman who witnessed those idiots openly discussing their orders. One tried to apprehend her and failed. She left behind her companion, some kind of robot.”

Wesley paused to allow the situation to register with his boss. They stared at one another from across the backseat.

“The officers at least disabled it, shot it up after they couldn’t remove it from the scene.”

“A robot.” He let his deadpan expression sit before huffing out a single laugh, meeting the spark of amusement in his friend’s eyes. This damn city, you couldn’t turn around without running into some weirdo with a cause.

“Yes.”

“And the woman, another nuisance do-gooder?”

Wesley woke his tablet, already open to body camera footage. “No sir, it seems like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Opportunities began to appear before Fisk’s very eyes as he watched the footage. The woman did appear caught off guard, and she ran rather than trying to get answers. Already she was smarter than the Mask. If she were smart enough to see reason too, maybe she could be an asset.

“Algorithmic medical responder…” he hummed.

In the video, the woman turned a corner, and when the officer caught up less than thirty seconds later the street was deserted. The search was hardly thorough, but she was there and gone at an unbelievable pace. She presented a good kind of problem. The waste of his payroll account however… there wasn’t room for incompetence in the new Hell’s Kitchen.

Exasperation twisted through him, hands clenching into fists. “Have those two failures been dealt with?”

“The building collapsed on two of New York’s finest while they searched for survivors.”

“Good.” Fisk nodded, running a hand over his head. “What more do we know of the woman?”

Wesley retrieved his tablet, swiping through it as he spoke. “Facial recognition hasn’t turned anything up yet, but the database is limited to the DMV and criminal records. It may not find anything. Harris and Nolan weren’t the only ones to see her though.”

He handed the tablet back for his boss to peruse the social media feeds he’d pulled up. “People are already talking about the robot. Still no good pictures of her face, but we do know she was there to help the injured.”

Swiping through tweets and videos, Fisk stopped on one with a large white robot, tall and round with red crosses on the sides of its head. Beside him stood a smaller figure in a sweatshirt, turned away from the camera, towards a bleeding man. The image had been quote-tweeted with the caption: ‘When was anybody gonna tell me that Mr. Roboto got his MD? Congrats and domo arigato, my man.’

There were images from varying points of view. Across the street, from inside buildings, and from either side of the police barricade, the robot’s soft interior lighting was a beacon of attention.

As Wesley said, there were no clear images of the woman, always slightly blurred or turned away. People debated whether the robot was a new Stark initiative or some anonymous benefactor. Amongst anecdotes and gratitude for the robot and its creator, there only seemed to be questions when it came to the woman’s identity and whereabouts.

“Hmm, looks like the people might have this one handled for me.” Fisk toyed with his cufflink as he examined another photo. “If we don’t get any answers in the next few days, I want a reward to be offered for information.”

Wesley nodded, tossing back a sip of water. “Through the usual channels?”

“No.” Fisk responded, handing the closed tablet back. His friend’s expression asked a silent question, and he drew in a full breath, letting it out as he resettled into his seat.

“We'll offer it up on the news, through our friends. I want it to be clear that we are looking to honor a hero citizen, maybe the city has some kind of stupid medal or symbolic title that we could award to her.”

A new question formed on Wesley’s face, too respectful to ask but there were too many years of friendship between them for Fisk to not already know.

“She went out to help and was caught unaware. Left the robot behind, which tells me she values her life more than her work. It’s possible that she can be persuaded into being useful for us, when we are prepared to make our operations public. If she needs to be silenced, there's still some value in a martyr for the vision of a better Hell’s Kitchen.”

Interact to let Igor know that he's a good bot 💕

Hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, and feel free to shares any thoughts, it helps me to keep up motivation to work on this :)

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 10.2

“Go, go, go,” Lucy urged, whisper quiet.  Snowdrop and Avery came down from upstairs, their eyes the inverted white pupils, pink irises and black surface of Snowdrop’s Sight.  Lucy gave them a nod, then guided Melissa toward the door that went from inside Edith’s cabin to the porch.

interesting. Why are they back here? And why bring Melissa?

Avery had made it a fair bit ahead of their group, but that was what Avery always did, Snowdrop was close to Avery, and Lucy had been ahead of Melissa, waiting for Melissa to catch up.  Putting Melissa at the rear of the pack, closest to Nibble and least able to run away.

this is why we need Verona here, she can be trusted to lag behind the group

Nibble went on, “She’s close to being Aware, if she isn’t there already, but she has the inherent innocence you can’t give up unless you…”

I'd hope that having an innocent there would fend off the witch hunter, but I think he probably doesn't care. And not being a practitioner or Other means he doesn't have to worry about the karmic backlash as much

“Melissa, please,” Lucy urged.  She paused, trying to think of what to say or what to ask for, then said, “please.”

I like how bad Lucy is at reasoning with Melissa

“How do we set the table without ringing the bell?” Avery asked.  “Melissa?” Melissa was standing by, watching, a frown on her face. “Table?”

I'm lost too.

oh, no I figured it out! They want to use the diagnoses tools Nicolette showed in the extra materials to figure out what the bell does. Talk about a field test.

Lucy reached for the bell.  It swayed away from her hand as she got about a foot away. Avery tried. At about two feet, it started moving gently away from her hand, dangling, as if she was holding a strong magnet.

Guessing that having a familiar makes Avery more Other in a way that trips the alarm sooner?

Jack of diamonds, ace of diamonds, two of clubs, jack of diamonds. “That’s two of the same card. Did you mix two decks together?” Melissa asked. “Nope,” Avery said. “Defective production, maybe?” “What does it mean?” Lucy asked. “No idea.”

I know this is in reference to not knowing what the duplicated card means, but I love the idea of doing a fortune-telling spread of cards and just going "fuck if I know what that means"

Huh. I wonder if the duplicate card is because they're using a french deck of playing cards instead of tarot minor arcana, which is more what I'd think of for divination. It could be trying to map both the page and the knight of coins onto the jack of diamonds.

In which case, the elements are: fresh eyes, small steps, patient observation, enhanced endeavors due to resources (possibly swap the first and last entries). Which makes sense for these alarm detection bells!

“Do I get a love triangle?  There was that show where the girl found out she was a half centaur and that’s why she was so good at riding horses-” “I liked that one,” Avery said.

yeah that tracks

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why is this kid so obsessed with opossums?” Melissa asked.  “She’s worse than Caroline from school, with her horse obsession.  Hey, do you think Caroline watches the centaur show?”

I was thinking that this rambling seemed out of character for Melissa, who has consistently been more gloomy than annoyingly unfocused. And then I looked up codeine side effects, and restlessness and talking with uncontrollable excitement are both listed.

She laid the page on the ground, then reached over, finishing the core rune.  The triangle of air.  “For the protection of Kennet and its population, human and otherwise.” “We draw on what we’re owed,” Avery added.

Verona’s absence was very much felt.

But they picked up, and soon, all across the clearing, bells were chiming, each with a high, sweet sound that carried in a way that would let it be heard from a mile away.  Grass blew and trees swayed.

I'm returning here after a week hiatus while I was on vacation, and this visual stuck with me whenever I was thinking about Lucy

The Witch Hunter found his feet again.  One member of their group stayed down.

can't believe I paused for a week on this cliffhanger

“I mean, you’re into music and you have this… image?  A crafted self-image, you know what I mean?”  Alyssa floundered.  “Confident, specific style.  Reminded me of friends who were in a band.”

I bet you could use band as a collective noun for a group of practitioners

"You’re always going off to meet with your friends. They have similar images. Well, Avery more. Verona wasn’t so hot when she came by, but even with her, a bit.”

interesting that the kind of self-definition you do as a practitioners is noticeable to people in the mundane world. I wonder if it's just that you get used to putting forward a specific version of yourself even in normal circumstances, or if there's some reinforcement from spirits who you've shown what face you want to present

“Just… easier to think I was a screwed up, paranoid kid, than to think the world was that gross."

Thinking about something I read about how CBT? or maybe some other form of therapy often fails people of color, because it focuses on "stop being paranoid, the world isn't out to get you, that's just your anxiety etc. talking." But sometimes the world is out to get you!

“I’ve run into that.  People in dark places don’t always want to accept the help.  The darkness can be more comfortable.” An image of Verona darted through Lucy’s mind’s eye.

and in Verona's case, she doesn't have a better future (outside of becoming an Other) that she feels she can realistically aim at

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly a bundle of warmth and cuddles.” “You sure?” Alyssa asked, matching Lucy’s posture, elbow on table, hand on cheek. “You’ve got a lot of warmth reserved for your mom, Booker, and Verona.”

awww

Verona’s dad stood on the edge of the lawn, dropping off garbage at the curb.  He stopped as he saw her.  She stopped as she looked at him, wearing her fox form, breathing hard. Emotions roiled inside her, flaring, boiling up.

I think Booker going back to college is making this worse: Lucy was already feeling like the people in her inner circle are leaving, and now Verona is gone too.

Then he walked down the stairs, crossed the lawn while sliding the phone back to his pocket, and set the recycling bin down.  Almost as an afterthought, he said, “Hi, Lucy.” “Hi.” Then he turned to go back inside.

this is rude, but also very funny. Just not engaging with the angry 13 year old who just appeared where a weird fox was.

Start from compassion, Lucy thought, thinking of Alyssa’s words. “Fuck offffff!” Lucy raised her voice. “And fuck you!"

lol

She found Avery, who wore a jersey top with a sports bra, shorts, and her running shoes, hair down.  She had her bag slung over one shoulder.  It looked like Avery had grown up by a year or two in just the short time they’d been active.

Welcome to puberty! And also being under life-threatening stress basically nonstop for a few months. Both will age you!

“You wish this was all easier?  Mannn, you have no idea.  I have whole days, days I feel more shitty and miserable than I ever have, and my parents are bored, bored of me being sad.  And you know who’s more bored?”

... No, I think Avery and Lucy are still winning the "how bad are things going" competition

“That Melissa might be a trainwreck no matter what we do.  She’s getting into trouble no matter what, but at least she’ll be one we can sorta steer or manage if we step in.  And maybe she’ll even find some joy in it?”

I mean, trying to steer her away hasn't worked for the past six arcs, so.

“…I care about belonging to something.  I don’t belong to family, I don’t belong to the Dancers, I don’t fit in with all those older teens who’re drinking and shit.  I don’t belong to- there’s no- there’s no me to belong to, I don’t fit to anything.  I’m so lonely it feels like my heart doesn’t beat anymore.”

this sucks! The thing with Melissa is that she is incredibly annoying for our protagonists, and also is probably not in as much trouble as they are, which makes her complaining seem petty. But also she's right that her life got fucked up, and she's miserable, and it's a shitty situation to be in for anyone, especially at fourteen.

“Help us solve a mystery, Melissa,” Lucy said.  “Help us connect some dots, how’s that?” “You’re just using me, aren’t you?” Melissa asked. “A bit. But I also want to help and if this is your road to happiness… fuck it.”

huh. That could be one way to put thing together with the Carmine Beast murder. And I guess this explains why they take Melissa to Edith's cabin

“I’m not complaining,” Melissa said, mumbling a bit.  “I want to be used.  I want to be useful.  I want to be wanted.  Awesome.” I think it’s good we got you away from that party and those older boys, then, protective cousin or no, Lucy thought, looking back.

yeah

“I am in a very going-along state right now,” Melissa said, raising the bottle she still held.  “You have no idea.”

YEAH

She dug fingers into wet, sucking blood, and found it a tangle inside, stuff getting caught between her fingers, parts that felt like they were the way further in or between bits of internals until they really didn’t. Lucy snarled, pushing until her finger hurt, but a strand of something broke and she could work her hand in, nearly wrist deep. Fishing, groping, searching for something. A bit of solid, no, that was deceptively tense tissue. She growled, face contorting, as she pushed her hand in deeper, another inch of give.  It was so hot inside.

this is also a place where Verona is missed

You’re doing more than being slow, Lucy thought. Melissa had found something.

OwO?

“I have.  Most of us have.  People, broken by them, until we’re a little more and a little less person.  I’m honorable.  If you step out of my way, I’ll give you five percent.”

I was hoping Melissa's presence would dissuade the Witch Hunter. Seems to be working a bit? And his training must have had a hell of a lot of work dehumanizing practitioners, because there's zero hesitation in viewing Lucy as an enemy combatant/monster despite her being very human.

“My own fault.” “Is that what they told you?” he asked. “No. Not at all. This is all what they’ve set up and made over centuries. It’s only your fault according to them, because that’s how they arranged it.”

I mean yes, in the sense that this is the way the world works (and damage Nicolette did) and isn't anything wrong that Melissa did. No, in the sense that this isn't something that the Kennet Trio in particular set up. Or that anyone arranged on purpose!

"And to you… Lucy or Melissa, it’s not your fault.  There’s better ways and better things.  I can tell you things they never will, and show you ways to deal with the threats that are going to be lurking in the shadows all your life.  I can show you how to feel empowered again.  I’ll be around.  I’ll come to you if you come looking for me.  Whether you want answers or a ticket out of… this.”

well that's a hell of a temptation for Melissa. I hope that bonding experience investigating the murder cabin was good for her?

The syringe was sturdy, with fine, dark filigree all down the glass, denser toward the end with the needle.  Artistry that could only come from the one place.  Inside was a oily slick of darkness, glistening, strands and clumps gathering into shapes suggestive of body parts.  And one blob of white that moved through it, to the surface of the glass. The blob of white had a face. Edith’s.

what the fuck

ok, so Fae artistry on the syringe? and I'm guessing Maricica, since it's dark filigree. And that clump of darkness... it makes me think Alpeana, but I'm hoping it's from someone else.

And why is there a blob of Edith in this? was the syringe extracted from her? Why? Who is it meant to inject? are they going to put Edith into a host who will become the Carmine Judge?

[thebroadcast]

On the matter of "plot theories"

Please consider the following essay as a potential spoiler for the plot of the show, my dear readers. So interact with caution and at your own discretion. Do not keep on reading if you wish to remain naive! TW: talk about conspiracy, murder and other delightful topics like that

For anyone unfamiliar with the topic: there is a running theory that show!Alastor sold his soul to show!Lilith to gain power. In turn, she sent him to look after show!Charlotte and guide her to something bigger (My call here is that show!Charlotte is supposed to figure out Heaven's twisted ethics and potentially wage war? Keeping her out of Lucifer's influence - and potential positive memories and impressions, as well as his protective approach - and show!Alastor's not-intervention to the portal would speak for that).

I personally think the basic idea of show!Alastor and show!Lilith being in league with one another has merit, by the powers involved alone already! Lilith empowers others by her song - tunes, wavelengths - and who is all about waves, sounds and magnetism? Alastor, of course!

But! I present you with the question: Why? Why doesn't Lilith herself guide her daughter? Why does no one know where she is? And what happened before her disappearance?

I firmly believe that the show does not drop information randomly (despite the writing itself projecting to be very random at times, much to my chargin), but to hint us, the investigative viewer, at the proper conclusions. So let's run down some relevant information first:

Both Alastor and Lilith have been off the radar for 7 years.

Lilith and Lucifer have split at some point prior to her disappearance. There have been potentially years since the family, as a unit, communicated with one another.

Lucifer doesn't seem to be that much of a proper ruler. We have seen the Overlords exert more gouvernance than him - yes, he offered Charlotte to "rig the game" for her, but that is a long shot from the raw power we would expect from him. Also: he cannot be in Heaven, but Charlotte can? (Yes, there could be a personal ban on his person, but what would motivate him to stick to it?)

We haven't seen Lilith's face yet.

Vox called Alastor "a coward" that "hid" after nearly defeating Vox in combat. A combat that happened before both Alastor and Lilith vanished. After Vox had asked Alastor to "join his team".

At some point in the past, Valentino's antennae were both undamaged and Vox still had a box TV head.

Exterminators use LED helmets. Adam uses VR tech in Hell.

Vox profits off of the Exterminations by now, selling protective devices. He controls is the Media and without independent media (such as, hint, RADIO), he controls the public narrative. And Alastor has dirt on him, very dangerous dirt.

"Not everything is spelled in ink" - Sera

All very interesting bits of information, aren't they? There seems to be somewhat of a .. theme, I'd say? The theme that Lilith being absent might be beneficial to both Adam and the Vs?

Hence, I present to you: The Coup d'État theory

Picture this: Adam and Vox are in league for a while already. Vox supplies tech to Adam and profits from it. Removing the King and the Queen from public interaction has positives for both of them - revenge on Adam's side for being dumped and free reign regarding the extermination, more power on Vox' end and dominance in the Pride ring. So, they potentially plan an assassination or an abduction of Lilith to Heaven, to pressure Lucifer into complacency and reduce the powers of other Overlords (by taking away Lilith's power of enhancing them). The Vs are cunning, so they know they need to get as many powerful Overlords to work with them - so Vox turns to Alastor to get him to agree to the plan (in this scenario, it's wholly possible that Alastor is already under contract with Lilith, giving him the power to kill the old Elite). Alastor maybe agrees at first or pretends to agree and when the plan is supposed to be put into action (maybe on an Extermination Day?), Alastor turns against them - damaging Valentino's antennae in the process, but unable to defeat the combined powers of the Vs and the Exterminators. He has to flee to survive. Lilith is taken hostage and moved to Heaven, putting Lucifer into a pat situation - without records spelled in ink maybe, but a taboo doesn't need to be spelled out - giving Adam and Vox free reign to do as they please. Lucifer is under pressure and cannot speak up and go public with what happened, as not to endanger Lilith's life. After all, she is the original Sinner, not dead.

Until Alastor returns, sent by Lilith to guide his daughter and her business to the point where Charlotte herself unearths history and potentially wages war against Heaven.

Let me know what you think!

[shiro-sonic]

Thundering Lightning 🌟⚡

Lightning can't transform in a Super state with Chaos Emeralds - (It's been stated by Takashi Iizuka that only male hedgehogs can go super with Chaos Emeralds.) - however, Lightning has her own way to trigger her Super form. She transforms into Thundering Lightning by overcharging her electricity powers over 1000% after taking off her inhibitor rings. In her Thundering form, her withe fur turns golden and her yellow pattern colors white. All her quills turn upwards, bending like the shape of bolts. Her yellow electricity turns to a shining white, her blue eyes colors a bright red, the iris glows white, while her pupils shape distorts like a star with several diffraction spikes. Lightning's inhibitor rings keeps hovering next to her wrists and ankles during this transformation, as if there is a magnetic force between them.

Thundering Lightning is Lightning's strongest form. In this state, all of Lightning's abilities far surpass her normal ones. She's able to stockpile an enormous amount of raw power, allowing her to significantly enhance all of her electrokinesis abilities to a superhuman level. This resulted in unbelievable levels of strength, speed, agility, and durability. She is also able to fly and is nearly invulnerable. However, this transformation consumes a lot of energy, meaning it cannot be maintained for long.

Twitter | Instagram | Deviantart | Lightning's Fandom Wiki Page

[primordialsoundmeditation]

This week’s astrology forecast: April 17th – 23rd

Message for the week: Time for a cosmic reboot

A rare hybrid total Solar Eclipse occurs this Thursday at the very last degree and final minutes of Aries. This happens in less than 5% of Solar Eclipses and is caused by the Full Moon being its furthest from the Earth, casting a smaller shadow as it passes in front of the Sun. This will create a ring of fire around the mostly darkened Sun (visible in Australia and Indonesia).

The Sun’s light, being temporarily shut down, is a cosmic reboot—like rebooting your computer to clear unwanted programs from running. The New Moon is the time for a new beginning—a fresh start. The eclipse squares Pluto and will reveal what destructive habits and obsessions you need to purge in order to move forward without hindrances.

The other important celestial influence this week is Mercury turning retrograde on Friday for the next three weeks. Retrograde periods are excellent for tying up and completing existing projects and endeavors that need to be completed before taking on new projects.

Monday: This is a good day for a spiritual recharge, with dreamy, spiritual, and creative energy abounding—with the Moon in introspective Pisces conjunct transcendent Neptune. Ask your higher self for guidance to get the best of this aspect. A lively and smooth evening is in store with the Moon entering fiery Aries and sextile transformative Pluto.

Tuesday: Jump into this day to take advantage of the Moon in enthusiastic Aries supported by a sextile to lovely Venus. There is a “heads up” this afternoon while the Moon squares agitating Mars, creating a bitchy mood for you and others. The mood passes and a high-spirited evening, free of agitation, ensues.

Wednesday: A powerful day in the heavens, starting with the Moon in action-oriented Aries conjunct fortunate Jupiter—think big. The New Moon Solar Eclipse is at 9:13 PM PDT at the very end of Aries, and square to subconscious Pluto. Pause and contemplate what you need to shed in order to move forward—free yourself from burdens you’ve been carrying.

Thursday: The Sun enters determined Taurus and immediately squares powerful Pluto—avoid power conflicts, which would only escalate with this volatile energy. The Moon in stabilizing Taurus and sextile to focusing Saturn will help—keep to your own business and all goes smoothly. The Moon is sextile Mars in Cancer tonight, great for a gourmet snack.

Friday: Mercury turns retrograde in Taurus for the next three weeks—tie up loose ends before moving forward. Functional intuition is available today with the Moon forming a triple conjunction with Mercury and Uranus in Taurus—act on sudden flashes of insight. The Moon is sextile dreamy Neptune this evening, great for a gourmet meal and entertainment. .

Saturday: A busy, fun day with the Moon entering variety-loving Gemini and trine regenerative Pluto this morning. The Moon does square challenging Saturn midday, creating delays in your plans, and then is free of inhibiting aspects—making for a lively, smooth, afternoon and evening.

Sunday: The Moon is in inquisitive Gemini conjunct magnetic Venus to start the day—let fascination and your whimsy guide you. Mercury (the mind) is in a supportive sextile to empowering Mars, enhancing communications with clarity and directness.

May the stars be with you!

I am available for consultations if you would like to see how your astrology chart can help you connect with your true self, explore your life’s purpose, better understand relationships, find your right vocation, or to align with current astrological influences. Contact us by email, phone, or through the “Services” tab on our website, to set up a session.

Email: Dpond11@gmail.com

Website: Davidpond.com

Phone: 360-918-8411

[midnightactual]

Shoyo-Bestgirl Feng

Autistic, Gremlin, Excited

Air (Void?)

Cold

Clean (More a constrained chaos)

High-Tech

Hard

Noble (but a scamp)

Violent but probably lack of context for otherwise

Unsure? Government or Corporate maybe?

Augmented (Genetic Enhancements)

Military Officer, Professional Go Player, Wildlife Caretaker

Swords and they're the sharpest ever, Is nonverbal so probably communicates in an alternative fashion to others from her mech

[ For I'll write an Armored Core VI Verse/AU for your muse ]

World: Uranus (Sol 7) Catalog Number: n/a Type: ice giant, various colonies Climate: artificial, temperate Population: 12 million Satellites: 27 Notable Features: orbital ring and dockyards

Helium-3, the lifeblood of the interstellar economy, is not an easy thing to acquire at industrial scales. Lunar deposits were costly to extract and rapidly overexploited to fuel human industry. While insatiable demand drove the early development of the Jupiter colonies, Jupiter's deep gravity well, intense radiation belts, and differentiated atmosphere made atmospheric mining at scale prohibitively costly. Saturn was ultimately little better, and the market was primed for a cheaper supply. Uranus, with a much weaker gravity well and more importantly still an unsettled distribution of helium, was exactly what humanity needed, despite being located at a markedly greater distance. The ease of extracting power from its magnetic field, which is tilted from the rotation of the planet, was another plus.

Today, Uranus hosts a largely automated helium-3 extraction industry, providing the bulk of the supply in Sol and neighboring systems. Atmospheric mining is conducted via massive atmospheric platforms—part aerostat, part aircraft—which routinely transfer their haul to low orbit via cargo drones. These are subsequently collected by skyhooks descending from the orbital ring. This ring, having been constructed through extensive mining of the Uranian moons, hosts most of the human population, and sustains itself using volatiles from the planet and ices from said moons. While the orbital ring is under the tight control of a unified governing authority practicing dirigiste economic policies, the resulting "national champion" corporations promote the interests of Uranus vigorously, not just in the remaining early colonies of closed O'Neill cylinders around the planet, or on its moons, but throughout the outer Solar System—much to the chagrin of the Jupiter colonies.

Name: Shoyo Fēng Augmentation: Generation Nine Occupation: corporate security officer Affiliation: Fēng Tactical Solutions Registration Number: Sl4649 Callsign: Tacit Armored Core: Intervals

Although most of the Uranian corporations have their own internal security details, external physical security is almost inevitably contracted to Fēng Tactical Solutions, which de facto constitutes the Uranian military and is publicly traded but majority-controlled by its namesake family. Given their limited recruitment pool and the need to function across a wide range of environments (so-called ECOAS operations—earth, colony, asteroid), the company places a particular emphasis on skill and first strike capability to minimize losses. Their defensive forces are limited and their offensive forces are organized into role-specific strike teams.

The newest member of the Fēng family to appear in the corporation's combat roster, Shoyo was initially assigned to a Muscle Tracer guard unit, but proved to be a poor fit for the duty assignment despite her stellar simulation scores. It was eventually judged that her talents were being wasted, and she was reassigned to an Armored Core-based reconnaissance and scouting team. The unit in question routinely dispatches its members solo and notably farther afield than the usual talking grounds of the outer Solar System, to include other systems.

While Shoyo's unusual text-and-gesture-only style of communication proved a hindrance in team formations, the cryptic impression it leaves has proven oddly fitting to her new line of work.

A fairly high-tech AC, Intervals was—perhaps somewhat paradoxically to those from more terrestrial backgrounds—constructed with melee combat in mind. Relatively nimble while retaining good armor and defense, it features higher stability for its weight.

Functionally a light assault unit, its typical combat pattern is closing with assault boost while using vertical plasma missiles to suppress targets, then continuing to apply pressure with its machine gun as it closes to melee range. The laser blade provides excellent mobility in this regime and can sweep multiple targets, while its laser slicer and assault armor make for devastating follow-ups. A nightmare once it's within enemy ranks, it also poses a substantial threat to any AC that would underestimate its close-range power.