#Kinetic Redirection

[autoacafiles]

Is there an Autobot Bumper?

[kenzdolls]

OBLIVIOUSNESS . 5.8k

𖤐 synopsis: you’ve just arrived as the new student of ua, and kirishima and bakugou have grown a liking to you. but, you’re very oblivious to their feelings.

𖤐 pairing: katsuki bakugo + eijiro kirishima x fem! reader

𖤐 sent in by: @cosmopretty

𖤐 trigger warnings: mild violence, mild swearing [katsuki duh]

𖤐 side note: this has some ooc of the quirk for reader.

you took a deep breath as you stared up at the imposing gates of ua high school. after your family's unexpected move to japan, you never imagined you'd end up transferring to the most prestigious hero school in the country. yet here you were, your quirk—the ability to temporarily absorb and redirect kinetic energy—deemed impressive enough to warrant a mid-semester transfer to class 1-a.

"you can do this," you whispered to yourself, adjusting your new uniform one last time before stepping through the gates.

the school was even more impressive on the inside than you'd imagined. massive hallways lined with windows stretched before you, and students with incredible quirks milled about, chatting and laughing as if attending the top hero academy in japan was completely normal.

"are you the new transfer student?" a friendly voice called out.

you turned to see a tall boy with glasses approaching you, his movements almost robotically precise. he adjusted his glasses with a crisp motion.

"i am iida tenya, class 1-a representative! it is my duty to escort you to our classroom and ensure your integration is smooth and efficient!"

his enthusiasm made you smile despite your nerves. "yes, that's me. i'm y/n. thank you for the help."

"excellent! follow me, and i will explain the essential protocols of ua as we proceed!"

as iida led you through the school, practically speed-walking while delivering an impromptu lecture on ua's rules and schedules, you tried to absorb as much information as possible. but your mind kept wandering to what your new classmates would be like. would they accept you? would your quirk measure up?

——

"class, we have a new student joining us today," aizawa-sensei announced in his usual monotone voice, barely looking up from his papers. he looked tired, wrapped in his yellow sleeping bag despite standing at the podium. "please introduce yourself."

you smiled nervously as twenty pairs of curious eyes fixed on you. the classroom fell silent, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"hi everyone! i'm y/n. i just moved here from overseas. my quirk is energy redirection—i can absorb kinetic energy and release it when needed. i'm really excited to train with all of you and become a hero!"

as you scanned the classroom, your gaze lingered momentarily on two boys sitting near each other. one had spiky ash-blonde hair and intense crimson eyes that seemed to be studying you with unusual interest. his posture was confident, borderline arrogant, with his feet propped up on his desk despite iida's obvious disapproval.

the other boy had vibrant red hair styled in sharp points and a friendly smile that instantly put you at ease. unlike the blonde, he was leaning forward in his seat, looking genuinely interested in your introduction.

"you can take the empty seat behind kirishima," aizawa pointed to the red-haired boy, who immediately turned around and flashed you a sharp-toothed grin.

"hey there! i'm kirishima eijiro! your quirk sounds super manly!" his enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"thanks, i'm still working on controlling it completely. sometimes i absorb too much energy at once and it's hard to regulate the release."

"that's so cool though! my quirk is hardening," he demonstrated by hardening his arm, which turned jagged and rock-like. "not as flashy as yours, but it gets the job done!"

"i think it's amazing," you replied honestly, impressed by the transformation.

"tch, another extra joining the class," the blonde boy grumbled, though his eyes never left you. there was something about his gaze that didn't match his dismissive tone—he seemed to be assessing you, calculating.

"don't mind bakugo," kirishima laughed, nudging the blonde's shoulder with surprising familiarity. "that's just his way of saying hello. he's actually really awesome once you get to know him. best explosion quirk in the school!"

bakugo scowled but didn't correct him. "if you're going to be in the hero course, you better not slow the rest of us down," he said to you, but there was a flicker of interest in his eyes that belied his harsh words.

"i'll try to keep up," you replied with a small smile, refusing to be intimidated.

something like approval flashed across bakugo's face before he turned back around in his seat.

"all right, enough socializing," aizawa called out, fully emerging from his sleeping bag. "let's begin today's lesson."

——

your first week at ua was a whirlwind of new faces, challenging classes, and grueling training sessions. you quickly learned that ua's reputation for excellence was well-earned—every student was pushed to their limits daily.

to your surprise, you found yourself frequently in kirishima and bakugo's company. it started during your first practical training session when all might paired you with kirishima.

"young y/n! let's see how your energy redirection works with young kirishima's hardening! a fine combination of offense and defense!" the legendary hero boomed.

you and kirishima clicked immediately as training partners. his hardened body could deliver powerful impacts that you could absorb and redirect, multiplying the force. by the end of the session, even all might was impressed.

"excellent teamwork!" he announced, giving you both a thumbs up.

"that was amazing!" kirishima high-fived you, his sharp teeth gleaming in a wide smile. "we're like the perfect combo!"

"not bad," came a gruff voice from behind you. bakugo stood there, arms crossed but eyes attentive. "your quirk might actually be useful in a real fight."

coming from bakugo, you quickly realized this was high praise.

"thanks," you replied, genuinely pleased. "i saw you training too—your explosions are incredible."

"hell yeah they are," he said with a smirk, but there was less hostility in his tone than before.

"hey, y/n!" kirishima chimed in. "a bunch of us usually study together at the library after classes. you should join us!"

"really? that would be great, actually. i'm still catching up on some of the material."

"awesome! bakugo comes too—he's actually super smart, even if he pretends not to care."

"shut up, shitty hair," bakugo growled, but there was no real malice behind it.

you noticed something then—a certain softness in bakugo's eyes when he looked at kirishima, a subtle shift in his perpetually angry expression. and the way kirishima could touch bakugo's arm or shoulder without getting blasted across the room… it spoke of a closeness that went beyond ordinary friendship.

——

over the next few weeks, you found yourself spending more and more time with both kirishima and bakugo. what started as kirishima offering to help you catch up on training quickly evolved into the three of you studying together, having lunch together, and even hanging out after school.

one afternoon, you were studying in the library with them when you noticed bakugo uncharacteristically helping kirishima understand a complex hero law concept.

"no, hair-for-brains, the liability statute only applies if the civilian was already in danger," bakugo explained, his voice softer than usual. his shoulder pressed against kirishima's as he pointed to a passage in the textbook.

"ohhh, i get it now!" kirishima beamed, practically glowing under bakugo's attention. "you explain it way better than the book, bakugo!"

"that's because the book was written by idiots," bakugo muttered, but a small, proud smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

you watched this exchange with growing realization. the lingering touches, the softened voices, the private smiles—they weren't just close friends. there was something more between them.

"y/n, you okay?" kirishima asked, noticing your thoughtful expression.

"oh! yeah, i'm fine," you replied quickly. "just trying to understand this material."

"want me to help you too?" kirishima offered eagerly. "bakugo just explained it really well!"

"sure," you smiled, sliding your chair closer to theirs. as kirishima launched into an explanation, with occasional corrections from bakugo, you couldn't help but feel a warm sense of belonging. these two boys, as different as they were, had somehow made room for you in their world.

what you didn't know was that the two boys had been dating quietly for a few months before your arrival. and now, they both found themselves increasingly drawn to you, a development that surprisingly didn't cause jealousy but rather mutual understanding between them.

——

"i think she's amazing," kirishima confessed to bakugo one evening as they walked home after parting ways with you. the sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over them. "the way she handled that simulation exercise today was incredible."

"she's got good instincts," bakugo grudgingly admitted, which was high praise coming from him. "and she doesn't take shit from anyone."

just that afternoon, you had stood your ground when monoma from class 1-b tried to belittle your quirk. your calm but cutting response had left him speechless, and bakugo had actually laughed out loud.

"you like her too," kirishima nudged him, grinning knowingly.

"shut up, hair-for-brains." bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets, but he didn't deny it.

they walked in comfortable silence for a few moments before kirishima spoke again.

"you know, we could…"

"could what?"

"tell her. about us. and how we both feel about her."

bakugo was silent for a long moment. "you think that would work? us and her?"

"i don't know," kirishima shrugged, reaching out to take bakugo's hand. "but i think it's worth trying. the way she looks at you when you're training… and she always sits next to you at lunch even though you pretend to be annoyed."

"she sits next to you too, idiot."

"exactly," kirishima grinned. "i think she likes both of us."

bakugo squeezed kirishima's hand, his expression thoughtful. "let's give it a few more days. make sure."

——

meanwhile, you remained completely oblivious to their feelings. to you, kirishima was just being his usual friendly self, and bakugo's gradual softening around you seemed like normal friendship development. you didn't notice how kirishima always found excuses to sit next to you during class, or how bakugo's eyes followed you during training sessions.

you also didn't see how the rest of the class had started to notice the dynamic between the three of you.

"y/n is so clueless," mina whispered to uraraka during lunch one day, her yellow eyes darting toward where you sat between kirishima and bakugo. "those two are practically tripping over themselves for her attention."

"wait, i thought kirishima and bakugo were together?" uraraka asked, confused. "i've seen them holding hands when they think no one's looking."

"they are," tsuyu joined in, her finger on her chin thoughtfully. "but they both seem to like y/n too. kero."

"that's… actually kind of sweet," uraraka smiled, watching as kirishima offered you some of his lunch and bakugo pretended not to notice but still pushed his dessert toward you when he thought no one was looking.

"i wonder if she knows," mina mused.

"i don't think she does," todoroki unexpectedly joined the conversation. "she looks at them the same way they look at her when the other isn't watching."

the girls turned to him in surprise.

"what?" he shrugged. "it's obvious."

——

the next day, you were paired with kirishima for rescue training. the scenario involved rescuing civilians (represented by weighted dummies) from a collapsing building.

"ready for this?" kirishima asked, flexing his hardened arms with excitement.

"born ready," you grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. over the past weeks, your control over your quirk had improved immensely, partly thanks to kirishima and bakugo's help during extra training sessions.

as you entered the training zone, the simulated building began to crumble around you. kirishima immediately hardened his body and shielded you from falling debris.

"thanks!" you called out, already moving toward the first dummy.

"no problem! that's what heroes do!" he replied, his smile impossibly bright despite the chaotic environment.

working together seamlessly, you began evacuating the "civilians." kirishima would break through obstacles while you used your absorbed energy to clear paths or boost your speed to reach stranded dummies.

at one point, a particularly large piece of concrete came crashing down. kirishima hardened just in time, catching it inches above your head.

"that was close," you breathed, finding yourself suddenly very close to him, his face just inches from yours.

"i'd never let anything happen to you," he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. for a moment, time seemed to stand still as you stared into each other's eyes.

the spell was broken by aizawa's voice over the intercom. "five minutes remaining."

you both snapped back to the task at hand, but something had shifted between you and kirishima—a new awareness that hadn't been there before.

from the observation deck, bakugo watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, not out of jealousy but with growing certainty. the way you looked at kirishima… it was the same way you sometimes looked at him when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

——

the breaking point came during a joint training session a few days later. you were paired with bakugo against kirishima and todoroki in a capture-the-flag style exercise. the objective was to either secure the opposing team's flag or immobilize both opponents.

"don't hold me back," bakugo warned as you took your positions, but there was no bite to his words.

"wouldn't dream of it," you replied with a smirk. "i've got a strategy if you're willing to hear it."

bakugo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "let's hear it."

you quickly outlined a plan that would use his explosions and your energy redirection to create a diversion while also setting up a powerful combo attack. to your surprise, bakugo actually listened without interrupting.

"not bad," he admitted when you finished. "let's do it."

as the exercise began, you and bakugo moved with surprising synchronicity. you flanked todoroki and kirishima's position, with bakugo launching calculated explosions that you partly absorbed, building up energy for the decisive moment.

when todoroki created an ice wall to block your advance, bakugo blasted through it, creating a shower of ice fragments that momentarily distracted them. in that perfect opening, you released all your stored energy in a concentrated wave that knocked todoroki off his feet.

kirishima, hardened and prepared, charged toward you. bakugo moved without hesitation, positioning himself between you and kirishima.

"now!" he shouted.

understanding instantly, you placed your hand on bakugo's back, absorbing the kinetic energy as he created a massive explosion directed at the ground. the force would have thrown both of you backward, but you channeled the energy and redirected it forward, propelling bakugo like a missile straight into kirishima.

the impact was calculated perfectly—strong enough to push kirishima back but not enough to hurt him seriously through his hardening. the momentum carried bakugo and kirishima tumbling to the ground, with bakugo quickly pinning the red-haired boy.

"gotcha," bakugo grinned triumphantly.

meanwhile, you dashed for their flag, snatching it just as todoroki was getting back to his feet.

"victory to team bakugo and y/n!" all might's voice boomed over the speakers.

you ran over to where bakugo still had kirishima pinned, both boys looking up at you with expressions of admiration—kirishima's open and bright, bakugo's subtle but unmistakable.

"that was fucking amazing!" bakugo exclaimed, finally releasing kirishima and grabbing your shoulders with an excited gleam in his eyes that you'd never seen before. "the way you redirected my explosion—nobody's ever synchronized with my quirk like that!"

"we make a good team," you laughed, slightly breathless from the fight and his unexpected praise.

"hell yeah we do," he agreed, still holding onto you, his crimson eyes locked with yours. for a moment, it seemed like he might say something more, but he released you and stepped back, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks.

"that was amazing you guys!" kirishima jumped up, seemingly unbothered by his defeat. "even though you beat us, the way you handled bakugo's explosions was incredible, y/n! and bakugo, dude, that strategy was genius!"

"thanks," you smiled, accepting the water bottle kirishima offered you. "though i think bakugo did most of the work."

"no way," kirishima shook his head, his eyes sincere. "you two were perfectly in sync. you know, he doesn't work well with just anyone."

"really?" you looked over to where bakugo was now arguing with todoroki about something, gesturing wildly. despite his confrontational stance, you could tell he was more animated than angry. "i feel like i've known you both forever, even though it's only been a few weeks."

kirishima's expression softened. "i know exactly what you mean."

across the training ground, bakugo caught kirishima's eye over todoroki's shoulder. something unspoken passed between them—a silent agreement.

——

later that afternoon, you were in the girls' locker room changing after training when mina sidled up next to you.

"sooo," she drawled, her yellow and black eyes gleaming with mischief. "you, bakugo, and kirishima, huh?"

"what about us?" you asked, genuinely confused as you pulled your uniform shirt on.

"oh come on!" mina groaned dramatically. "the way they look at you? the way you look at them? it's the juiciest drama in class right now!"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you insisted, though you could feel your cheeks warming. "we're just friends."

uraraka joined the conversation with a gentle smile. "y/n, kirishima literally gives you his jacket whenever you say you're cold. and yesterday bakugo yelled at mineta for staring at you for too long."

"that's just kirishima being nice and bakugo being… bakugo," you replied, though a strange flutter was building in your chest.

tsuyu tilted her head. "you really don't see it? kero."

"see what?"

"that they're both totally into you!" mina exclaimed. "and from what i can tell, you're into them too!"

"but they're together," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you'd never spoken this observation aloud before, but you'd been increasingly certain of it.

the three girls exchanged knowing glances.

"so you've noticed that much at least," mina said. "yes, they are. but that doesn't mean they can't also like you."

you stood there, uniform half-buttoned, mind racing. could it be true? had you been completely missing the signs?

"think about it," uraraka said gently. "how often do they both just happen to be wherever you are?"

"how bakugo is almost nice to you when he's a jerk to everyone else," mina added.

"how kirishima always saves you a seat," tsuyu finished.

as they spoke, dozens of little moments flashed through your mind—bakugo's lingering glances, kirishima's casual touches, the way they always included you… had you really been that oblivious?

"i… i need to think," you mumbled, hastily finishing changing and grabbing your bag.

as you left the locker room, your phone buzzed with a text. it was from kirishima:

hey! bakugo and i were wondering if you could meet us on the roof after school? there's something we want to talk to you about. no pressure though!

your heart skipped a beat as you read the message. after your conversation with the girls, the timing seemed almost too perfect. you hesitated for just a moment before typing back:

sure, see you there.

——

the rest of the day passed in a blur. you couldn't focus on any of your classes, your mind constantly drifting to what kirishima and bakugo might want to talk about. by the time the final bell rang, your stomach was in knots.

you made your way slowly to the roof, each step feeling heavier than the last. what if the girls were wrong? what if this was about something completely different? or worse, what if they had somehow found out about your growing feelings for both of them and wanted to let you down gently?

the sun was setting as you pushed open the door to find both boys waiting, looking uncharacteristically nervous—even bakugo seemed on edge, pacing back and forth while kirishima leaned against the railing.

"hey," you called out softly, causing both to turn toward you simultaneously.

"y/n! you came!" kirishima's face lit up, though you could see he was fidgeting with the hem of his uniform jacket.

"of course," you replied, walking over to join them. "is everything okay?"

the boys exchanged a look, some silent communication passing between them. finally, bakugo took a deep breath.

"y/n," he started, uncharacteristically using your actual name instead of some nickname. "we have something to tell you."

"first," kirishima jumped in, "we want you to know that there's no pressure here. whatever you decide is totally cool."

"decide about what?" you asked, heart hammering against your ribs.

"shitty hair and i have been dating for a while now," bakugo stated bluntly, watching your reaction carefully.

even though you'd suspected it, hearing the confirmation still made your breath catch. "oh! that's great! you guys make a really cute couple." you meant it sincerely, even as part of your heart sank at the confirmation.

"there's more," kirishima continued, his cheeks almost matching his hair as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "we both… really like you. as more than a friend."

"a lot more," bakugo added, his eyes intense as they fixed on yours. "and it's not just physical or whatever. you're strong and you don't take shit and you're… you."

you blinked, processing their words as your mind raced to catch up. "wait… both of you? like me?"

"yeah," kirishima nodded, looking both hopeful and terrified. "i know it might sound weird or complicated—"

"it's not weird," you interrupted, a slow smile spreading across your face as relief and joy flooded through you. "i like both of you too. i have for weeks. i just never thought…"

"are you serious?" bakugo looked genuinely shocked, which was rare for him. "how could you not notice? i've been less of an asshole to you than to anyone else in this entire school!"

"and i've been finding every excuse to be near you," kirishima added incredulously. "i literally gave you my favorite hoodie last week!"

"oh my god," you laughed, suddenly seeing all those moments in a new light. "mina and the girls were right. i am oblivious."

"no shit," bakugo muttered, but there was no real heat behind his words. in fact, you could swear you saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

"so…" kirishima took a step closer to you, hope shining in his eyes. "would you want to… be with us? both of us? we've talked about it a lot and we both want this—want you—if you're interested."

your answer was to close the distance and take both their hands in yours, kirishima's calloused from his hardening quirk, bakugo's warm from his explosions. "yes. absolutely yes."

the smile that broke across kirishima's face was blinding, all sharp teeth and pure joy. even bakugo couldn't maintain his scowl, a genuine smile softening his features in a way you'd rarely seen.

"can i…" kirishima hesitated, looking at you with such tenderness it made your heart ache. "can i kiss you?"

your answer was to lean forward and press your lips to his. the kiss was sweet and gentle, everything you'd imagined kissing kirishima would be like. when you pulled back, his eyes were wide with wonder.

"wow," he breathed.

you turned to bakugo, whose eyes had darkened as he watched the two of you. "your turn?"

for a moment, he didn't move, and you worried you'd misstepped. then he cupped your face with surprising gentleness and pulled you into a kiss that was all passion and barely restrained fire—completely bakugo.

when he released you, you were breathless.

"damn," kirishima whispered, watching both of you with undisguised admiration.

the three of you stood there as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the rooftop in golden light. kirishima's arm slipped around your waist, and bakugo's hand remained intertwined with yours.

"so," you finally asked, "how does this work exactly?"

"however we want it to," bakugo replied with unexpected wisdom. "no rulebook for this shit."

"we'll figure it out together," kirishima added, squeezing you closer. "that's what heroes do, right? face the unknown."

standing there between them, feeling bakugo's steady presence on one side and kirishima's warm enthusiasm on the other, you had never felt more certain of anything in your life.

——

the next day, the entire class 1-a froze in collective shock when the three of you walked into homeroom together. bakugo had his arm casually draped over your shoulder, while you held kirishima's hand on your other side. the three of you had talked late into the night, figuring out the beginnings of your relationship, and had decided there was no point in hiding it.

mina was the first to react, letting out an excited squeal that made jirou wince beside her. "finally!"

"wait, are all three of you��?" kaminari pointed between you, his face a mixture of confusion and awe.

"got a problem with it, dunce face?" bakugo challenged, pulling you slightly closer in a protective gesture.

"n-no! it's cool!" kaminari quickly backed down before breaking into a grin. "actually, it's kind of awesome."

"i'm so happy for you guys!" uraraka beamed, giving you a thumbs up.

iida adjusted his glasses, looking momentarily flustered before regaining his composure. "while this is certainly an unconventional arrangement, as long as it doesn't interfere with your studies or hero training, i see no reason to object!"

"thanks, class rep," kirishima laughed, squeezing your hand.

as you took your seats, you could feel the curious glances of your classmates, but they were largely supportive—or at least interested rather than judgmental. even todoroki gave a small nod of acknowledgment as you passed his desk.

during lunch, the shock value had still not worn off as you sat between the boys in the cafeteria, kirishima feeding you bites of his food while bakugo's leg pressed against yours under the table.

"i still can't believe she didn't notice we liked her," kirishima chuckled, his arm draped comfortably across the back of your chair.

"oblivious as hell," bakugo agreed, but his tone was almost affectionate as he reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face. the gesture was so casual yet intimate that several nearby students did double-takes.

"hey, i got there eventually," you protested with a laugh.

"yeah," kirishima smiled, resting his head on your shoulder while bakugo's hand found yours under the table. "you did."

across the cafeteria, the rest of class 1-a watched in amazement.

"i've never seen bakugo so… calm," midoriya whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from the unusual sight of bakugo showing affection openly.

"love changes people, i guess," uraraka replied with a smile.

"it's manly as hell," tetsutetsu commented from the class 1-b table. "they're not afraid to be who they are."

as if hearing them, bakugo turned to glare in their direction, but when you leaned in to say something to him, his expression immediately softened as he turned back to you.

"so, training after school?" you asked both boys. "i want to try this new move i've been thinking about—combining bakugo's explosion with kirishima's hardening."

"hell yeah," bakugo nodded, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "i've got a few ideas too."

"count me in!" kirishima added enthusiastically. "with the three of us working together, we'll be unstoppable!"

watching them together—bakugo's fierce determination and kirishima's unwavering positivity—you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, the three of you really would be unstoppable. not just as heroes in training, but as partners supporting each other through whatever challenges lay ahead.

some things would never change completely. bakugo would always be explosive, kirishima would always be enthusiastic, and perhaps you would always be a little oblivious. but that was perfectly fine with the three of you.

after all, it had led you exactly where you were meant to be—together.

taglist: [open]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh

© property of kenzdolls

[the-catch-center]

SPATIOTEMPORAL CATCH CENTER INTERNAL DOSSIER FILE ID: SCC/INT-REDIRECT/038-577-HARDLOCK-RECALC ACCESS LEVEL: RESTRICTED – LEVEL GAMMA-9 AUTHORIZED HANDLER: TECH-OFFICER INGRID MALM, CONTAINMENT/REINTEGRATION DIVISION SUBJECT STATUS: FULL NEURAL REALIGNMENT IN FINAL PHASE WARP OFFENSE CLASS: VOLITIONAL TEMPORAL IDENTITY SUBVERSION REDIRECT TYPE: HARDLOCK / CULTURAL INVERSION / LOCUS REALLOC

I. SUBJECT ORIGIN PROFILE

ORIGINAL TEMPORAL NAME: Chase Ryland Mercer DOB: July 14, 1993 Birthplace: Denver, Colorado, United States Registered Occupation (2025): Fitness coach, lifestyle influencer, and freelance body aesthetics consultant Known Affinities: Narcissistic identity experimentation, time-loop evasion via biohacking, performance-enhancement narcotics (non-lethal), subcultural integration simulations Catch Center Notes: Subject presented minimal direct temporal risk but extreme destabilization via affective radiation and future-kink aesthetic bleed into mid-tier historical planes. Psych profile indexed a 9.7/10 on the Volitional Timeline Deviance Spectrum — one of the highest this fiscal cycle. Absolutely no sense of restraint or humility. Treated his identity like a goddamn buffet.

II. TARGET TRANSFORMATION TRAJECTORY (INTERCEPTED)

INTENDED IDENTITY (2003 POST-LANDING): Name: Thiago “Tigre” Delgado Projected Identity Arc:

Birthplace Claim: Hialeah, FL (fabricated)

Self-image: “Latin gay icon in the making” — short (5'5"), densely muscled, full-body tattoos (tribal + lowbrow queer iconography), pierced nipples with kinetic rings, surgically enhanced glutes, double-leg implants for enhanced bounce-resilience.

Occupation Goal: Professional gogo dancer / queer nightlife symbol

Nightclub Affiliations: The Vault, Orbit, El Palacio Rojo

Style: Shirtless with suspenders, mesh thongs, patent leather boots; constant chewing of neon gum; four rotating euphoric expression programs (joy, cockiness, defiance, sweatlust).

Behavioral Profile: Hypersexual body-positive provocateur, deliberately transgressive, intensely performative masculinity-as-artifice.

Neurological Tweaks: Neuroplastic conditioning toward unrelenting confidence, delayed shame response, and chemically stabilized erotic charisma.

Projected Impact: High-density affective ripple in Miami’s 2003 queer scene with ripple effects into early influencer psychology, erotic commodification economies, and third-wave queer liberation dynamics. Comment from Handler Malm:

“Oh, Thiago. Tigre. Whatever. He really thought the multiverse needed another sweaty himbo grinding on a speaker. The man was halfway to becoming a synthetic fetish idol for future anthropology textbooks. The sheer vanity. We had no choice. This was not a deviant with flair — this was a firework in a fireworks store.”

III. INTERCEPTION REPORT – REASSIGNMENT INITIATED

CATCH EVENT: May 18, 2025 Location: Lisbon Warp Corridor, Tier-2 Jump Stagger (unauthorized, amateur shield) Containment Class: STORMLOCK (Emergency Full Override – Cultural Reintegration) Time Misalignment Window: 2.44 seconds (longer than average, subject suffered visible neural stuttering)

IV. REDIRECTED IDENTITY PROFILE – FINALIZED REASSIGNMENT

NEW LEGAL IDENTITY: Name: Gerald Wayne Huxley DOB: March 19, 1938 Birthplace: Waco, Texas Current Year Placement: 1982 Occupation: Senior Enlistment Officer, United States Marine Corps (Ret.) – Lubbock Military Recruitment Center

V. PHYSICAL RECONSTRUCTION – FINALIZED PARAMETERS

Height: 6’5” Weight: 276 lbs Body Composition:

Upper body mass exaggerated to near cartoonish bulk, consistent with Cold War recruitment propaganda aesthetic.

Forearms vascular, heavily tanned, and riddled with deep scarring (simulation implants for combat credibility).

Waistline high, torso thick with almost immobile girth.

Feet: Size 28EE – biometric flag for timeline recapture trace. Intentionally disproportionate.

Hair:

Color: Faded iron gray

Cut: Exact regulation flat top — high-precision, bristly, square. No fade, no softness. Facial Features:

Square jaw recalibrated with reinforced temporal mass to suggest hardened aging.

Nose slightly misaligned (simulated boxing injury).

Mustache: Oversized, thick, dark bristles — exaggerated variant of “Tom Selleck Regulation 8,” protruding nearly 2.5cm beyond lip edge. Skin:

Textured, sun-damaged, mid-oil saturation level.

All tattoos (real and desired) erased.

Scar tissue simulated on clavicle and left thigh.

Wardrobe (Perpetual Issue):

Olive green slacks (1982 standard military recruiter issue)

Brown oxfords, scuffed at toe

Khaki button-up with two front creased pockets

Brown leather belt with brass buckle Note: Uniforms reissued weekly. No variation permitted.

Handler Malm Commentary:

“He went from mesh crop tops and chest oil to starch and brass in one warp-snap. Beautiful. He twitched for 19 seconds trying to say ‘vamos’ through a jaw that now only knows how to bark ‘Oorah.’”

VI. PSYCHOGENETIC REALIGNMENT

Override Protocol: A7-A6 “PATRIOT CORE + MEMORY FLUSH”

Emotional Expression Index: Reduced to 1.8 (gruff approval, disapproval, silent nod)

Deviance Tolerance: 0.00

Neural Aversion Implants: Triggered by visual/audio contact with queer subcultures

Memory Replacement:

Vietnam veteran (fictionalized unit, real deployment logs)

Divorcee (3x)

Current hobbies include grilling, lecturing teens, hating hippies

Belief Reprogramming: Fully loyal to Reagan administration, believes in draft reinstatement, thinks disco “destroyed the American man.”

Residual Symptoms:

Minor lip spasms when attempting to recall “Thia—”

Left hip occasionally executes pre-conditioned “grind” motion in sleep (projected to phase out in 14 days)

Vague nostalgia toward low-saturation lighting and rhythmic basslines (marked irrelevant by override)

Handler Malm Commentary:

“He thinks Studio 54 was a socialist training camp now. I love my job.”

VII. TIMELINE OUTCOME

PROJECTED LIFE TRAJECTORY:

1982–1994: Works at regional recruitment center, trains new hires

1995–2000: Retires, becomes semi-local figure in Lubbock VFW

2001: Minor stroke, mobility decline

Death: February 19, 2002, 11:24 a.m., Amarillo VA Hospital — confirmed stroke, no anomalous triggers, timeline preserved

Post-Death Integrity: Subject marked as “Historically Plausible and Emotionally Nullified”

Handler Malm Final Notes:

“We’ve taken a man who wanted to shake his surgically plumped ass to reggaeton under strobe lights and turned him into a one-man recruitment pamphlet. He’s exactly where he belongs: forgotten, rigid, and 100% unsexy. A victory for the timeline. And frankly? A little cathartic.”

END OF DOSSIER FILE LOCKED DO NOT DISTRIBUTE WITHOUT CLASS-GAMMA OVERRIDE

[etrnvlr]

Ꞌꞌ bnha dr quirk ! ? ꒷꒦

　 ──　﹒quirk name: aetherdrive

─　quirk type: emitter

─　quirk desc: ﹒ my quirk allows me to instantly manifest, alter, and manipulate physical weapons or constructs through tactile sensory input. my body becomes a living forge, drawing from both the surrounding environment and my inner energy to create custom, aether weapons that adapt to my emotions, surroundings, and combat data.

─　strengths: ﹒ i can manifest any weapon or object i've touched or seen before, meaning i'm never out of options.

﹒i can adapt to my weapons, stance, and strategy mid-fight based on my emotions, surroundings, and enemy behavior.

﹒my skin literally feels molecular tension, motion shifts, vibrations in the floor, the emotional feelings of my opponent.

﹒i can sense incoming threats through the ground, map surroundings through contact, feel an enemy’s next move, and manifest a weapon to match it all before it even happens

﹒the more emotionally connected i am to a weapon/object/situation, the more powerful, durable, and responsive the construct becomes.

﹒my brain treats all input (sight, sound, sensation, memory) as blueprints.

﹒i can control multiple forged weapons/constructs in the air, redirect mid-flight, have them orbit, defend, attack, or spin.

﹒i can instantly manifest weapons and constructs without a delay.

﹒i excell in close combat, short and long-distance fighting, and no matter the terrian i can easily adjust.

─　drawbacks: ﹒ since my quirk processes thousands of micro-inputs every second like touch, emotion, vibration, tension, and instinct, if too much data floods in, i risks having a synaptic overload, migraines, blackouts, and nosebleeds.

﹒ my quirk is emotionally reactive meaning i have to keep my emotions in check so if i'm feeling detached or upset my weapons/constructs may take on an unstable form, glitch, shake or just flicker out.

﹒ my quirk works from external materials but also drains internal energy if needed for speed or for large scale attacks.

﹒ i need to physically touch or observe a weapon/material to replicate and manifest it properly.

﹒ if im using telekinesis to control too much objects it gives me a mental overload.

﹒ since my hypersensitive input allows me to feel a lot but that also means even a mild hit feels way worse.

﹒ the more intense or complex a weapon/construct, the more it strains my muscles and bones.

─　xtra: ﹒considering touch is my "main" input but my eyes..i can understand a weapon/building/material weakness just from looking at it and taking in its structural flaws to which gives me an advantage. i can lowkey see air pressure movements, micro twitches, vibrations in the environment.

﹒by touching a person i can feel micro muscle tensions so like lie detector who?? and i can pick up on emotions as well as their kinetic memory, emotional residue, or muscle memory signature so like how a person fights.

[cherrari]

if i say idk what the turbo or crankshaft is will u laugh

don't worry i would never laugh at people asking questions because i rarely laugh in the first place

the current major components of the pu (and their allowable allocations per season) are:

the internal combustion engine (currently the v6) -> 4

the motor generator unit-kinetic (mgu-k) -> 4

the motor generator unit-heat (mgu-h) -> 4

the turbocharger (tc) -> 4

the energy store (es) (aka the battery) -> 2

the control electronics (ce) -> 2

the exhaust (ex) -> 8 per set

i will go through them one by one. i'm not going to list every single component connected to them because that would take way too long and honestly isn't necessary... i'm just listing the most relevant things, if you look up an actual f1 car there will be more going on than what i'm saying here.

the ice is the primary source of power. it turns fuel into kinetic energy. combustion engines are very common but can get quite complex, especially one that operates at such high efficiency like f1's... but the basic idea here is that it operates in a four-step cycle where air is taken in, compressed, mixed with fuel, then ignited. this creates a force which pushes a series of pistons, and finally this force travels through a few other components until it reaches the rear wheels to accelerate the car. the crankshaft is one of these; it takes the pressure from the pistons and uses it to drive a rotational force which is then used by the succeeding components.

the mgu-k is attached to the crankshaft and electronically to the es (battery). during braking, it harvests energy from the rear that would otherwise be released as heat to put into the battery. (it cannot harvest energy from the front) when accelerating, it can then redirect energy from either the battery or the mgu-h into the crankshaft to add extra torque. there is a strict limitation on how much power the mgu-k can contribute, but the 2026 regulations are increasing this massively (like 3x the amount). also the mgu-k is why f1 cars can self-start when stalled mid-race, as even if the engine is off it can still power the crankshaft so long as there is energy in the battery.

the turbocharger is attached to the ice's exhaust manifolds and is composed of a turbine and a compressor. the exhaust gas from the ice rotates the turbine which activates the compressor. the compressor compresses incoming air before it enters the engine for combustion, allowing for more air to be taken in overall. basically it makes the engine more efficient without it becoming too heavy or large.

the mgu-h is mechanically attached to the turbo's central shaft and electrically connected to the battery. it harvests otherwise unused heat from the exhaust gases and sends it to either the mgu-k or the battery. back in the old days before the mgu-h existed and turbos were far less efficient, drivers would need to sit on the throttle to keep the it running. nowadays the mgu-h is used for this, as it can use energy from the battery to control the turbo's speed, including when at low revs. the mgu-h is the component being ditched for 2026 and is the reason why the mgu-k's capacity is being beefed up (to compensate for its loss).

the energy store is the battery. energy harvested by the motors is stored here until deployment. the battery (and the ce) are comparatively small, flat, and very efficient because they need to rapidly charge and discharge energy according to the driver's inputs. when people refer to f1 pus as being hybrid, they're referring to the mixture of power from the ice and the electrical energy from the mgu units that is stored in the battery.

the control electronics that's being referred to here is what converts the energy from the motors into an energy format that can be stored in the battery and vice-versa. this is not the same as the ecu, which is a standardized controller for the electronics of the car (such as the braking system), despite the confusing names.

the exhausts are attached to the engine's exhaust ports. they are divided into sets, with three on either side of the engine and then a connection to the turbo.

as i said i didn't talk about every component that powers the car here because that would be effectively every single one... but let me know if you have any questions. i deleted like 1k words from this because i realised i was going off topic 😭

[cherrycola27]

sol

Paring: Bob Reynolds/Sentry x Reader

Warnings: Language, alcohol, violence, weapons, eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

masterlist next part

Part 1: The Rising Sun

You were nervous as you walked up to the looming tower. You took a deep breath before pressing the button to the intercom. "Hello?" A voice asked. "Um, hi. Hello. I was hoping to speak to the leader of the New Avengers?" You asked in your most polite yet professional voice. There was a long pause. "Just a minute, and I will buzz you in. Take the elevator to the twenty-third floor." The voice answer. Moments later, you heard the hum of a lock, and the door opened.

You quickly stepped inside and made your way to the elevator. You punched the button labeled "23" and leaned against the wall of the elevator. You took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. Moments later, the doors opened, and a talk man with brown locks was standing before you. He was wearing a blue sweater and some lounge pants. You recognized him from the news. "Hi. I'm Bob!" He greeted you warmly. He waved but didn't offer his hand to shake. "What's your name?" He asked you.

"I'm Solara." You told him. "Solara, that's such a cool name. Way better than Robert. Your parents must have been super cool." He beamed at you as you stepped off the elevator. "Follow me, and I'll take you to the others." He instructed you. "Solara isn't my name. It's my super identity." You quickly correct him.

"Oh, well, what's your real name?" Bob asks you, coming to a stop in a hall that seems like it goes on forever. "My name is Dr. Y/N Rothe." You tell him, trying to sound confident.

"Doctor? Woah. That's so cool. Like a medical doctor or something else?" He asks you with what seems like genuine interest. "Engineering. Power, energy, that kind of stuff." You tell him. "That's awesome. I'm sure the others will think that is so cool!" Bob exclaimed as he pushed open the doors that you'd finally arrived at.

"Everyone!" Bob yelled into the massive room. "Come meet Y/N. She's a doctor!"

Suddenly, everyone from the New Avengers stood before you, weapons drawn. "Who are you?" Yelena demanded. "How did you get in here? John Walker yelled at you.

"Woah, take it easy." Bob said, stepping in front of you. "This is Dr. Y/N Rothe. She's an engineer who works with power and energy. She came to the tower asking to speak with the New Avengers, and I buzzed her in." Bob explains, looking back at you with a smile.

Yelena sighs and lowers her weapon as the others follow suit. "Bob, we have talked about this. You can't let strangers into the tower. Especially if we don't know if they are a good guy or a bad guy, or if they have powers."

"I have powers. But I'm not a bad guy. I want to help people." You speak up, peering from behind Bob.

"What kind of powers do you have?" Bucky asks you, taking a cautious step forward. "Energy manipulation. I was working for EnerG Corporation, developing a new type of solar panel. Lighter weight, easier to make, able to draw more energy from the sun. I was out in Mojave running some tests when a lightning storm came out of blue. I had nowhere to run. Lightning struck me and pinned me against the panels. I thought I was dead for sure. When I woke up, I knew something was different. Took me a while to figure it out, but I'm pretty good with my powers now." You tell them.

"What all can you do?" Yelena asks you. "I can fly, create sonic waves, run faster than light, deflect bullets and knives and punches by redirecting their kinetic energy. I can heat and freeze things. And I'm bulletproof." You say before lifting off of the ground a few feet. "Go ahead, shoot me." You say. The others look around, but John doesn't hesitate and fires right at you.

"Jesus Christ!" Bob jumps and covers his ears. The bullet doesn't phase you. It crumpled in a heap at your feet as you landed. "Told you." You say with a matter of fact tone. "Why are you here?" Bucky asks you. "I want to help people. I want to be a New Avenger." You say. "Do you have a name? And a suit?" Yelena asks you. "I have both. I call myself Solara." You say proudly. Before they can blink. You're in a burnt orange super suit with long sleeves and a skirt. You have golden boots and a golden cape. I belt circles your waist, and a sun-like tiara holds your hair.

"A skirt? Really? No one is going to take you seriously. How do you even fight in that?" Yelena scoffs. "It is really a skort. And I can fight just fine. I believe I can be both powerful and feminine. Not just one or the other." You say to her.

"Okay. Everyone. Huddle up, team meeting!" Yelena yells as everyone gathers in a circle. Bob rocks nervously beside you. "Your suit is really pretty. I have one, too. It's yellow, but it's not nearly as pretty as yours." Bob tells you. A blush spreads across your cheeks. You open your mouth to answer him, but Yelena grabs him by the elbow. "C'mon Bob. You too." She says as she drags him to the group.

You can hear the hushed whispers about if they should let you stay or not. What seems like ages passes before they come back to stand before you.

Bucky clears his throat. "We have decided you can stay and train here on a few conditions. First, you have to show us all of your powers. Second, you have to meet Val. Third. No missions with us until we know we can trust you." Bucky says. "And fourth, if you try to betray us, we will find a way to kill you." Yelena adds.

"Thank you so much. I promise you won't regret this!" You tell them. "We will see." John says coldly.

"First things first, we need to get you moved into the tower. Normally, we all get our own floor, but not all of them are finished. Bob, do you mind sharing?" Yelena asks him. "Not at all." Bob replies quickly.

"Good. Do you have any things?" Yelena asks you. "Some, but I can bring them myself. Just show me where to put them." You tell her. Bob eagerly leads you to his, now your floor, and shows you the extra bedroom and bathroom. You will share a living space. Moments later, you zap away, gather the few things you had from your storage unit, and organize your room before Bob has had time to finish a page in his book.

"Wow. That was fast." Bob says as he stands in your doorway. He takes in your room. It's decorated with lots of neutrals with pops of pinks and oranges. He notices a record player on the dresser and lots of books on the selves. There are a few plants scattered around and an oversized circle chair with pillows and a blanket on it. He just met you, but he somehow knows that this room is very you.

"Thanks. Being faster than the speed of light has its advantages." You shrug your shoulders as you close the closet door. You've changed into an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. You have a pair of fuzzy socks on your feet. "Where can I get some food around here? I'm starving and I haven't been to a store yet." You ask Bob. "I can show you to the kitchen. It is always stocked. I can give you a tour of the whole place if you'd like?" Bob asks, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'd like that." You smile at him. You pad your way over to him, but your socks cause you to slip. Bob leans forward and catches you. One of his arms loops around your waist, and the other reaches out and catches you by the hand. Bob braces himself, prepared to see your worst memory. Instead, he sees you stepping off the elevator a few hours ago. He sees himself taking to you, and you smiling back at him. Bob takes a step forward, but the scene before him vanishes.

You take in a sharp breath and blink, slowly looking up at him. Neither of you has moved, and you're suddenly aware of how close you are to Bob. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. You can smell the earthly scent of his soap or shampoo.

Neither of you speaks, both choosing to ignore what you just saw. You clear your throat, snapping Bob back to reality. "You okay?" He asks you, helping you to your feet.

"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks for not letting me fall, Robby." You say to him. "Robby?" He raises his eyebrows at you. "Is it okay if I call you that? Bob seems so formal, so cold. You don't seem like that. You seem kind, warm. Like a Robby. If you don't like it, I can call you Bob." You tell him, holding your breath, waiting for him to answer.

You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to find the words. Finally, he speaks. "I like it. Robby is nice. I like how it sounds when you say it. You can call me Robby. But only you." He decides before smiling at you. You smile back at him. "Now, how about those snacks you promised you'd show me, Robby?" You tease him.

"Snacks, right. Follow me." Bob says as he turns on his heels and heada out of your room, unaware of the impact he has already made on you.

...........................................

Tagging a few who might be interested: @bobfloydsbabe @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @sebsxphia @seitmai @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @teacupsandtopgun @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @roosterforme @gretagerwigsmuse @miraliciouss-blog @amberhol

[thecreaturecodex]

Zetogeki

Image © Paizo Publishing, accessed on Archives of Nethys here

[The last of the monsters I'm converting from Pathfinder 2e Bestiary 3! The zetogeki is a cool monster both for its mechanics and the specifics of its design. How often do you see a cordylid lizard in pop culture?]

Zetogeki CR 7 N Magical Beast This lizard is the size of an ox, with stout legs and a broad tail. It is covered with black and gold scales made of volcanic rock that bristle and shudder.

Zetogakis are oversized relatives of girdled lizards with basalt scales. Zetogakis consume nothing but mineral water, which they drink from geysers and springs and defend zealously from interlopers. The dissolved minerals in the water are secreted into their scales and grant the zetogaki the remarkable ability to absorb and redirect kinetic energy. When a zetogaki hunkers down and raises its scales, it becomes incredibly resistant to physical damage, which it can then redirect into their bites or tails. They have even been known to hurl themselves off short cliffs to absorb damage from the fall for use if they are expecting to be attacked.

Zetogakis live mostly solitary lives, with each female maintaining a territory around a source of mineral water and the males moving between them periodically to mate. Males and females guard the eggs together, which are laid in volcanically heated gravel to incubate. Once the eggs hatch, the male moves on and the female raises their young until they are adult, whereupon they disperse into new territories. Zetogekis can cause problems when they move into a mineral spring that is already occupied by sapient life, as they are so belligerent that they will attempt to chase off or kill any other creature that tries to use the water.

Zetogeki CR 7 XP 3,200 N Large magical beast (earth) Init +5; Senses low-light vision, Perception +10

Defense AC 20, touch 10, flat-footed 19 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +10 natural) hp 84 (8d10+40) Fort +11, Ref +7, Will +6 Resist fire 10 Defensive Abilities tilt scales

Offense Speed 40 ft., climb 40 ft. Melee bite +12 (1d8+5 plus grab), tail +7 (2d6+7) Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. (10 ft. with tail) Special Attacks mangle (1d8+7), powerful blows (tail)

Statistics Str 20, Dex 13, Con 20, Int 2, Wis 15, Cha 9 Base Atk +8; CMB +14 (+18 grapple); CMD 25 (29 vs. trip) Feats Combat Reflexes, Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Skill Focus (Perception) Skills Climb +17, Perception +10, Stealth +5 (+13 in mountains); Racial Modifiers +8 Stealth in mountains

Ecology Environment any mountains Organization solitary or family (2-4) Treasure incidental

Special Abilities Mangle (Ex) This ability functions as the constrict universal monster rule, except that it deals slashing and piercing damage. Tilt Scales (Su) As a move action, a zetogeki can configure its scales to absorb kinetic energy, granting itself DR 10/-. When its scales are up in this fashion, its move speeds are reduced by 30 feet. The zetogeki can return its scales to their normal configuration as another move action. If the zetogaki takes at least 10 points of damage from a physical attack (after damage reduction), it can store the energy in its scales and release it when it returns to normal configuration. If it hits with its next melee attack after returning to normal, the attack deals an additional 2d8 points of bludgeoning damage. If it misses with that attack, the energy is lost.

[emwritesstuff]

DYNAMO | Steve Rogers x Reader | part 8.

HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.

AO3 | Masterlist | Playlist (coming soon!)

notes: Denial is a river in Egypt. (warnings: mentions of human experimentation, unresolved feelings, YEARNING, protective! steve) (5,039 words)

8: GRAVITATIONAL PULL

Steve Rogers, as it turns out, is one fucking sore loser.

So far, he’s been fine and dandy kicking your ass during close combat training, with an unchanging score of 10-0 every single time. This is the only time this week that you spent more than 5 minutes in the same room. It’s been so peaceful.

You’re 8-6, you were promised a break once you’ve gotten him to say “fold” a 5th time, but here you are at round number 15 with no signs of stopping. All because you’ve started to learn to redirect the kinetic energy (Bruce taught you that) of his blows into your own movements, finally standing at somewhat equal level during fights with the super-soldiers.

“Rogers—” You nearly snarl as he slams you down on the mat, trying to get his attention again by punching his bicep. “I need a fucking break. We need a break.”

He doesn’t seem he’s listening, so focused on beating you he doesn’t even answer you right away. With an exhale he releases most of the hold he has on you, despite not disengaging immediately. You tell yourself the weight of his body bothers you, and tap his arm again.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, rolling off from on top of you.

“God, finally.” You manage to finally get up, reaching up for your water bottle. You’re spent. You might not even have the energy to argue with him this time. “What’s going on?”

Steve doesn’t even look at you. It’s like he can’t, and normally you wouldn’t care about whatever is troubling him. But like previously stated, things have gotten… complicated. Complex.

“They want us back on the field. I’ve been trying to delay this as much as can, but the missions are piling up. Hoss’ visit last week was his first warning.” You don’t really know what he’s means about warning, but he doesn’t explain. “I’m just… I’m distracted. Stressed. ”

“So you took that out on me? I’m not your fucking punchbag, you asshole. ” You complain, putting your hands on your hips. Steve is looking up at you, bracing his hands on his knees. You make sure to demonstrate zero sympathy. “What exactly are these missions?”

“The kind where the U.S. Defense Department should be deploying his military, but sends us instead.” Natasha pipes in, hopping down from her treadmill. “To fight for the country’s imperialistic affairs instead of everyone’s benefit.”

Steve nods.

“The Avengers are supposed to take care of international level threats. Aliens and terrorists, not a country with different interests than theirs. And because of the Sokovia Accords, we don’t have agency anymore. Not even me.” Steve says, and your jaw goes slack.

“Making us mercenaries.”

“Government-issued mercenaries, pretty much. Orders are orders,” Nat complements.

“This is such—”

“Bullshit, yeah.” Steve runs his hands through his hair, and you share a look with Nat. You’ve never seen him like this. Maybe she has, although she seems just as stunned as you are right now. “They want you to go, too.”

“Okay? I’m not stoked about it, but I’ll go,” You shrug, but he doesn’t seem satisfied.It’s surprising they want that considering how the last mission went - but you figure a faulty super weapon is better than nothing. It’s an awfully familiar feeling.

He gets up, rolling his shoulders back. You can almost hear the tension making his muscles snap. “I’d rather you not be involved in any of this. None of you, really.”

Nat rolls her eyes. “Drop it. You play the martyr enough, Cap.” You have to agree. And he’s incredibly annoying for it. “But he’s not wrong, Sparky. The less you put yourself under that HYDRA training of yours, the better.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Not you too! I already said I’m fine.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s not exactly a fun time, sure. That’s why… I’ve been considering setting up an appointment with Shuri. Also, HYDRA can get fucked.”

The confession makes Steve breathe out, like a cloud has been dispersed. He nods at you and you point a finger at him.

“No promises— just one day, one check-up. It’s good that you’re both here, actually.” You inhale, preparing yourself to ask the question. No better time than now, you suppose. “I want to talk to Steiner again. This motherfucker knew all about stuff I didn’t even know I could do and is apparently my only source of knowledge about myself. I need some answers and I was wondering if you two could go with me? I doubt Fury will clear me to go there again, with or without company, so—”

It’s Nat who cuts off your rambling. “So you want someone to go against Fury’s orders with you.” She tilts her head.

“Basically, yeah. Well, not really orders. Advice. Principles?”

“I’m already there, babe.” Nat has a smirk on her face.

You breathe a sigh of relief, then bite your bottom lip when you look at Steve, with his hands on his hips and concern on his face.

There’s a phase of Steve Rogers’ you’re nostalgic about without ever experiencing it yourself: when Bucky Barnes was revealed as the Winter Soldier and he went against everyone and everything because he believe in his best friend. That confidence.

That faith.

“Look. I know you’re Complacent-Cap right now, but—” “I’m in.”

Oh. Okay.

“Alright. Cool. This might— I mean, if it works, one less problem for you, huh? And just for the record, there’s other ways for you to relieve stress that aren’t wrestling me, you know?”

You blink once you realize how your sentence sounds. Steve blushes. You can feel your cheeks getting warmer, too.

Is Nat still here?

Jesus Christmas.

“Not that I’m offering any of… that. I’m not.”

Steve clears his throat, rubbing the back of his very pink neck. Thankfully, Romanoff saves the day. “Come on, Sparky. Let’s hit the showers.”

Can’t come with: distracting One-eyed Eagle. Don’t do anything too stupid. x

You stare at the text as if Nat is going to reply with a Just Kidding! But the cold at the pit of your stomach confirms this isn’t a prank - it’s very unlike Natasha Romanoff, too.

“She’s not coming.” You tell Steve, furrowing your brows when he nods.

“I know. Last minute meeting with Fury. She can still buy us time, though.”

Great. They both knew about this in advance, and Natasha decided to tell you one single minute ago because she knew you’d want to postpone your visit to Dr. Steiner.

Now you have to share a Jeep with Steve Rogers.At least it’s a car, and not his Harley. You don’t need that extra edge.

He gives you a full body check before leaving, but you don’t need help with your seat belt this time. The silence is as loud as the bike’s rumbling, though.

You hate it, as much as you hate how his jaw is set and focused while you’re fidgety and restless.

You didn’t think you’d come to regret your escapade with Steve Rogers, at least not like this. Things have been different since then. If you walk into a room, he leaves it. Distant. Or he doesn’t, then he’s gentle and warm. It’s fucking confusing.

The radio becomes your first attempt at a distraction, skipping stations and messing with the volume dial until your anxiety is hopefully muted.

His eyes flit towards your hand once. Twice. “Can’t you just pick a station?”

“Nothing’s calling to me.”

“Then just turn it off.”

You huff, harshly turning the dial until the radio went off. “I guess a silent, awkward car ride will be good. It’s a good change from the anxiety,”

With arms crossed against your chest you turn to the window, watching the trees speed by in a blur of green. It’s nice out here, upstate. It would be nicer if this road trip was in fact a road trip and not you walking head first into a mousetrap.

On your peripheral, you see him tighten his hold on the steering wheel. “Why is this awkward?”

“Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been avoiding me like I have the boils.”

“I’m not avoiding you like you have the boils.”

You scoff. “This is why I wanted Nat. We jumped each other’s bones once and you can’t even—”

“Jesus, why do you have to say it like that?”“—be in the same room as me!” “We trained together yesterday.” And it still felt like you weren’t even there. “Yeah? How about the past few weeks?” “Do you even want me around?”

You want to throw something at him. Your boots would do, if it lacing them up wasn’t so much work. “No.”

“Alright. Then why does it matter if I’m avoiding you?” “Oh, so you are avoiding me! Finally.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you hated me.” “I do. But this is making shit worse, Steve.”

“How?”

“It’s making it weird.”

“God, you’re impossible.” Steve sighs. “…I told you I wasn’t good at casual stuff.”

You can see the silhouette of the confinement facility approaching. Maybe it’s because you were pushing his buttons, but Steve has been pushing the pedal: you don’t remember the ride being this short, last time.

“Rogers, we’re adults. That didn’t change anything, and it doesn’t make things between us casual.”

“Doesn’t it? You act very casual about it.”

You scoff. “It was one time, and like you said that day, it’s not happening again. I don’t care that you regret it.” He exhales, and since you’re looking right at him you see when his throat bobs. “That’s not— I don’t—”

Your eyes narrow, stopping him right before he starts the “it’s not you, it’s me” bullshit. “So don’t worry about hurting my feelings or whatever, okay? I’m not catchin’em.”

He’s silent for a long time. Long enough for the oppressive concrete building to be right in front of you now: you’ve arrived.

His eyes are ahead as men carrying heavy firearms approach; you hate that you can identify the exact model. Heckler & Koch. German submachines. Quick-firing, nasty little things.

“You got it all wrong, you know.” He says quietly, looking at you finally after identifying himself at the gate.

The words make you frown. His eyes are softer than you anticipated, and his fingers twitch over the steering wheel.

There’s a knock at the window. The guard gives Steve a nod. “Welcome back, Captain Rogers.”

Oh yeah. You’re seeing Steiner today. Right now, in fact.

This has been a decent distraction, all things considered.

Your legs feel like jelly as you climb out of the car. Blood roars in your ears as you walk inside the prison, tailed closely by Captain Rogers himself. His presence at your side makes Hermann Steiner raise his unkempt grey eyebrows.

“You’ve brought in a friend today, Fräulein.”

“Hardly.”

The mad-doctor shakes his head, amused. Rogers is outside the visitation room, leaning against the wall too lackadaisically to be anything but intentional. You know he’s coiled tight and ready to snap, if needed.

“Did you watch the little video I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“And I take it you’re making use of your - our - secret ingredient? You look much better than last time.”

You dip your head.

Of course, he’s not wrong about that. It was his plan all along, and as far as he knows, everything is going according to it. You’re back, right in front of him again.

“That’s why I’m here, actually.” Your leg is bouncing. “It’s not really a secret anymore - and I found someone that can wipe it right off me. Isn’t that great?”

The doctor’s eyes widen, and he moves as if to reach for you if he wasn’t restrained in the chair. “You cannot do this!”

“It’s not you, it’s me. Yadda-yadda.”

“You have no idea what you’ll unleash - your powers, you - were not made for this. Believe me when I say you need everything that is within you. The way your body reacts when you use your skills, the threat of shutting down— it is all by design.”

“Here’s the thing: it’s not just when I use them. It’s killing me, you fucker.”

He looks down, having the nerve to look sad about it. “It is necessary.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do, Fräulein— I do. I made you.”

“What, from clay?”

“I am a mere geneticist, not a sculptor. No, dearest. Your DNA was engineered to be HYDRA’s perfect weapon. Every weapon needs an off switch.”

Engineered DNA. If there was ever any hope you were anything but Frankenstein’s monster, it had been squashed under Steiner’s government-issued rubber clogs.

When you say nothing, he continues: “Indeed these symptoms should not be happening when you’re not manipulating energy, but I suppose no experiment is predictable.”

Your lip twitches in disgust. “You knew I could do more than just electricity.” He perks up in his seat. “I was not exaggerating when I said I made you, Fräulein. Von Strucker too arrogant to believe I could create such power… too cautious to allow you to truly bloom. But look now: that brief conversation of ours and you have already grown to such heights.”

“Oh, you’re not trying to take the fucking credit for this.” You have to grip the seat of your chair to keep yourself from lunging at him.

“Think of what you could achieve under my guidance. Get me out of this cage and you’ll see the glorious future we could make… shaping the world as we see fit.”

“You’re so desperate it’s sad. You want me to break you out for what? So I can go back to being your guinea pig? Your weapon?” You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest.

“Is that not what you are?” “Shut. Up.” Steiner smiles. It makes you sick.

“You were not designed to function on your own, dear girl. You must accept this truth.” There’s heavy dread at the pit of your stomach, weighing you down further with every word that comes out of his mouth. “Like it or not, you need me. You were born for the use of HYDRA.” “Trust me, I’d let my brain implode before I see you wearing a lab coat ever again, Doctor. The cell bars suit you better.”

“Fräulein, Fräulein…You’d risk the lives of all of these people you seem to care so much about? You have no idea the damage you can cause without strict control.”

“Do you?”

He hesitates for a second. And it’s enough: the things he’d revealed throughout your conversation made it seem like he also didn’t know the full extent of your powers. Did he even know about Joule’s Principle? How much of his knowledge about you was confined to simple theories and speculation?

“I’ve seen the news, about Union City. You think that was a simple miscalculation on your part? An accident? I wonder if your little Avenger friends will see you any differently when one of them becomes a casualty.”

You get up abruptly, eyes searching for Steve Rogers on the other side of the glass. He’s not there. You blink, wetting your dry lips with your tongue. You never wanted less privacy than in this moment.

“Do not forget my words, my dear. I know what I created. You are smart, despite all your poor decisions. ”

“Fuck you, Steiner.”

He’s about to open his mouth when the door slams open and Steve walks in, flanked by two armed prison guards. They take Hermann Steiner away, but his smug smile remains in the room with you.

You’re still looking at the empty chair when Steve murmurs your name.

You have to swallow the involuntary sigh of relief that comes up when you look up at him. “How much did you hear?”

He rolls his shoulders, as if to shrug away the tension before answering.

“Enough.”

The ride back was also silent and tense, but in a different, heavier way. You almost wish you still had it in you to keep on bickering with Steve about the nameless thing you had going on.

Steve had slowed down the car once a message from Fury had come in, Natasha’s bought time run out at last.

You both, my office. No detours.

His effort was commendable, but your hands were clammy as you recalled the conversation at the prison, chest tightening with each mile you got closer to the compound. Dr. Steiner’s words simmered inside your head. When one of them becomes a casualty. When, not if.

Nick Fury’s office is dark and imposing, with a security system rival to the Pentagon. At least you assumed. He gestures for you to take one of the leather chairs in front of his desk but Steve chooses to stand, hovering behind you like a concrete wall. Fury gives him a brief glare for that.

“I was under the assumption your stay at the compound was to rehabilitate you from HYDRA, not to make family visits to them.”

“That piece of shit is not my fucking family.” You feel Steve shift at your back, but you can’t bother with censoring your words right now. “If you’re so against HYDRA, why do you want me to use the programming they gave me? You saw the video, you know who used to train me.”

“You know better than anyone that can never work, Nick.” Steve adds, and your lips purse. “Bucky thought he was hopeless but he’s been doing better. It can be the same for her.”

Fury sighs. “This isn’t all just up to me, Cap. We’re all making concessions here. Not just you. This place is balanced precariously on top of what S.H.I.E.L.D., S.W.O.R.D. and the government wants and what you - we - think it’s the right thing. One slip and it all crumbles.” He knocks over a decorative pile of blocks to get his point across.

“I insisted for her to consider the deprogramming. This was on me.” You frown at Steve, and he nods back at you.

“I’m sure it was, Cap. And that’s exactly what I’ll be putting on the incident report.”

You hate the politics game, and you hate yourself for walking willingly into it. Now you’re too tangled into it to walk out. One wrong move, the wrong piece removed, and everything collapses like a stupid game of Jenga.

“Do you understand my job here now, recruit?” The way he refers to you make you blink, your attention on him fully. You nod weakly. “The Sokovia Accords are still in effect. Rogers breaks them, it’s a misjudgement; he’s a war hero. You break them, you get a ticket to the Raft.”

“Fury.”

“You’ve already threatened me with that.” You say, taking one of the little blocks and flicking it away. “You wanna lock me up? Do it. I’m done taking orders and being a good little tool for some ruling power to use. The US of A, Nazis, whoever.”

Fury follows the block, shaking his head.

“That’s the thing. I could do it: I don’t want to have to. But I need you to cooperate. S.W.O.R.D has interest in you, and that gives you some leverage.” You roll your eyes. “For now, anyway. You’re on thin ice, Sparky.”

“Don’t call me that. And I’m pretty sure this is carpet.”

He leans back on his chair, opening his arms in resignation. Still, his point was not completely off. You’re sure he knows that, and that’s exactly why he’s letting you have the last word.

You and Rogers walk together to the elevator. He lives one floor above you, and now you’re thankful the Compound is large enough to help you avoid each other. You’re not sure you can make a sensible decision when he’s looking at you like that. Because it makes you feel safe. And that is very, very dangerous.

One strike, you’re out. You could either conform and be exactly what the people you despise want you to be or set yourself loose, becoming what they already think you are. A weapon of mass destruction in both outcomes. No matter which path you went on, you had a feeling that it was only a matter of time until disaster struck anyway.

You were born for HYDRA to use. I know what I created.

Now you’re close to being something S.W.O.R.D. could use.

Steve stops the elevator from closing once it stops on your floor. “I won’t let them take you to the Raft. Whatever you decide.”

You let out a breath, glaring at the ceiling before turning back to him with your eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? A few months ago you’d fly me over personally.”

He shrugs. There’s the danger.

“Promise?” Your voice is softer than expected when you say it.

“Yeah. I promise.”

You chuckle. “Okay. When can Shuri see me?”

“We ever met? You know, before.”

You forget what Bucky’s voice sounds like sometimes. He doesn’t hang out with anyone that much, the exception being Steve, and lately, you. He’s the kind of guy who tolerates few people, and you seem to be one of those now. It’s surprising.

He still keeps quiet most of the time though. Just sits there, like a weirdo.

You don’t mind it— also surprising. Maybe he finds solace in the fact you both share a messed-up history, like two co-workers would with a shitty boss. Which is putting it lightly, but it’s not innacurate, either.

His question makes you open your eyes, squinting them at the sunshine immediately after. “No. The Winter Soldier was just something the overseers would use to make us behave.” He turns to you with a confused frown on his face. “The Soldat doesn’t like naughty children! You know, like the world’s worst Santa,”

Bucky lets out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head.

“Why do you ask?” You say, sitting up in your lounge chair.

Another thing you share is your taste for is toasting like lizards under the sun. Maybe it’s all those years living in military bases where frost is eternal and sleeping in cryo-freeze pods instead of beds; it didn’t surprise you when he plopped down on the lounger next to yours 20 minutes ago, likely eager to unwind after another deprogramming session. You never ask how it went, and you think he appreciates that.

Your own first session is happening later this week.

“I was just remembering how we wouldn’t really talk when you first got here.” He shrugs. “And wondering if… If I did something, to you, back then,” He confesses quickly, the words coming out as if they were one single thing.

“Buck, we never ran into one another until I stepped into this place. I wasn’t ready to hang out with anyone who didn’t force themselves onto me.” It’s an honest answer; he seems relieved. “Besides, back then it wouldn’t have been you. It would’ve been him - the Soldat.”

He groans. “You sound just like Steve.”

You make a face from the comparison. Bucky can’t be more wrong.

“Okay— the sun is shining, I’m in a bikini, so please don’t ruin my good mood.” You let out a huff when he laughs. “I’m dead serious.”

“Me too.”

“Where’s he at, by the way? Don’t you guys go get burgers and fries after your thing?” It’s Wednesday - Barnes and Rogers always go to a vintage diner in the city for an early lunch after the appointment with Shuri.

Yeah, yeah. You know their schedule. Pathetic, but you’re too observant not to pick these details up. Old men and their 11 a.m lunches.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “He can’t take a day off to save his life—”

“Hoss?”

“Nah, he was done with that two weeks ago. Poor bastard. It’s this talk show he’s going to at NBC or somethin’ like that. Everyone wants to know about Dynamo,”

You had a feeling that your debut as a recruit Avenger would gather media attention. “Great. I’m sure he’ll tell everyone what a great hero I am.”

“I’m sure he’ll keep everyone happy like he did after Union City. He’s not really known for lying, though.”

You blow air through your lips at his words. You didn’t like remembering how Steve had spent hours with the press because of your fiasco, because it made you feel bad and hate him a little less.

A few seconds of breeze fill the silence.

“I don’t think I deserve all that.” You say quietly, without thinking.

You were already aware of what he’s sacrificed for his friends. Appeasing the press, handing over the shield to Tony Stark. Working for S.H.I.E.L.D and the U.S. agenda. Explanations, penance, compromise. Now you’ve been dragged into it, and you wish the way you feel about the whole Steve Rogers/Captain America situation could be as simple as it was when you first got here.

“Well it’s not all that and it’s not all for you, don’t flatter yourself too much.”

“Oh fuck you, Winter Cuckoo-Bananas.” Bucky is grinning despite the name calling and the amount of profanity you mutter under your breath. “Could I wallow in self-pity for once? Thanks.”

He nods, and you fall back into amiable silence. The pressure in you chest eases.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I do, either.”

“Bullshit, Buck.” He gives you a look, but you only shrug. The name slipped out despite your better judgment, and you wonder for a moment if he’s looking at you that way because Buck is a privilege reserved to Rogers or because you sound just like him again. Fuck. “You might not be the same heartthrob you were in the 40’s, but doesn’t mean you’re not still salvageable.”

“I thought we were having self-pity time, Sparks. Let me have this.”

“Save it to your next therapy session.” Bucky whines. You both laugh. “Just saying though— a haircut might do you wonders.”

“Same to you.”

He doesn’t specify if it’s about therapy, a haircut or all of what has been discussed previously.

“Please. The sewer rat look makes everyone fall at my feet,”

“Yeah. From fright.”

Your head snaps in his direction, arm reaching to punch his ribs but he reacts faster, dodging your blow and pushing your lounger away.

“Shut up, Barnes.”

“Hey, you started it. I’m just stronger. And faster.” You roll your eyes, recomposing yourself. Bucky sighs, making you look at him. “I know you’re anxious about this whole thing. But Steve — he’s got you.”

“It’s not really Steve I’m worried about.”

The biggest surprise of them all.

He hums. “You’re already on the right track, with the deprogramming and everything. If I deserve a second chance, you do too.”

You bite your bottom lip. The sun warming your skin makes you feel more positive than usual. “I really hope you’re right, Bucky.”

0300 hours.

He’s laying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 3 a.m. and Steve Rogers hasn’t slept a wink. The red numbers on the alarm clock seems to be laughing at him, and it’s all because of her.

Time is not something that has been on Steve’s side, not since 1943 when he took the damned serum. He’s been out of time, on the wrong time, and now he’s running out of it. He needs to get his friends out of this compound and away from S.W.O.R.D’s orders and scrutiny, but Bucky’s not quite done with his deprogramming yet. Sparky’s first session is tomorrow. She’ll need time too.

He needs to hold the fort a while longer.

He’s also running out of patience to keep everyone’s moods placated. Tony Stark, Hoss, NBC. Conflict seems imminent and inevitable, no matter how much he puts himself in between the clash. It doesn’t help that he can’t get his mind off the harbinger of it all.

Don’t worry about hurting my feelings or whatever. I’m not catchin’em.

This is why he doesn’t flipping do casual.

He’s more than familiar with one night stands— he’s not dead and he’s never been a prude in between sheets, either. But it’s one thing when both parties go their own ways, not seeing the other again if they can help it. That’s easy.

But with her, nothing is ever easy.

She’s difficult and it makes everything difficult, too.

Bothered by his distance and bothered when he’s near. It takes everything in him not to fight her, demand a clear statement over her feelings, expose his own. The avoidance is the only way he still finds some semblance of control over himself, and she can’t even give him that.

She takes and she takes, his resistance meager at best.

Steve pulls the bed sheet from his legs, and stalks over to the living room he shares with Bucky. His best friend has fallen asleep on the couch, holding on to a bucket of popcorn as if it was a cushion. It’s half empty. Steve takes it from his hands and places it on the coffee table before making his way down to the gym.

The truth is that he wants her. Badly. He wants her when she gives him attitude and he wants her when it’s just the two of them and her guard is down by just a little. She makes him want to hit something, like this punching bag, and protect her from the world. Show her how ugly and wonderful it really is.

Kiss her until it bruises.

Break every rule just to see how her eyes sparkle.

Steve can’t name the feeling. But it’s there, stretched taut like a string.

He can feel it, ready to snap, everything he’s built of himself hanging by a thread and she had been the one to unravel it.

It’s laughable.

The terrible truth that if she were to ask, he’d hand everything out willingly, too.

Laughable how he came down here to get his mind off things, off her, and he still hopes she’ll come through the sliding doors like the last time.

[northstar-galactic-command]

Sounds like there's been a misunderstanding then! NGC is in the business of helping law-abiding independent groups, not threatening them. We leave those tactics to the anthrochauvinists.

Union means well, but unfortunately no one has the resources to be everywhere. Union representatives can take months or years of subjective time to arrive, and anyone willing to bring a fight to your door is unlikely to wait around for them.

If you are used to harsh words from "corpos" then we're sure you have your own naval assets and orbital defenses to protect against possible reprisals. If you ever feel the need for additional reinforcements, however, we hope you'll keep Northstar Galactic Command in mind.

We're also available should you ever decide to resume mercenary work or just need some extra muscle when reporting in the field. Nothing quite guarantees freedom of information like fighter wings and lance batteries.

Greetings, Omninet!

This is the official channel of Northstar Galactic Command. Northstar Galactic Command (GALCOMM or NGC for short) is a proactive security force owned by our parent company IPS-N (@ips-northstar-official). Our mission is to provide robust naval assets and services to assist with the transportation and reactive defense of clients, goods, and resources outside of the Galactic Core.

Don't have the manpower and logistics to operate your own warship? No problem! NGC vessels are owned, maintained, and supplied by IPS-N, and operated by professional IPS-N crews. Just sign on the metaphorical dotted line and a NGC battlegroup will be at your disposal for as long as you need it.

Already have your own fleet, but need some extra support? We've got you covered! NGC crews and vessels will integrate seamlessly into your existing command structure, whether at the ship, battlegroup, or fleet level.

Think of us like mercenaries, but a lot more dependable. As the Northstar name implies, IPS-N has been humanity's guiding light since the earliest days of Union, and our brand is synonymous with reliability. NGC is proud to continue that tradition: we've got your back no matter where you are or what you need.

In the coming months we hope to spotlight some of NGC's ships and battlegroups, as well as the crews and equipment that make them so exceptional. If you can't wait, however, you can find our full catalog here.

If you are looking for asset protection that is proactive rather than reactive, we highly recommend our sister company: Trunk Security (@ips-n-trunk-security-official).

-

Got a question about NGC or a story of how we helped you? We'd love to hear it!

Did you have a negative experience or want to provide some constructive criticism? We'd love to hear that too! Just let us know your exact location and some Quality Assurance Specialists will be dispatched to ensure you have no further complaints.

[fipindustries]

ok i think i finally figured out what to do with some OC i had lying around.

worldbuilding concept: the OPs

a world where superpowers exist but only 6 people have them.

their special deal is that each power manifest so absurdly strong that they are each essentially a god. they are scattered across the world and they have inevitably shaped the politics and nature of the world by their mere presence.

the powers in question are super strength, energy manipulation, super speed, mind control, precognition and telekinesis

the idea is that they are completely broken, they are overpowered, every single one of them is "fuck you i win" level of strength, and the different ways in which such a thing would manifest and the different personalities that each would have because of this.

they are walking extinction events, them arriving to a city is as threatening and scary as a kaiju arriving to a city. some of them have taken over entire countries, others are in charge of vast worldwide networks. they are indestructible, unstoppable and wherever they go that region of the world is subject to their whims. some of them are bad, some of them are normal and some of them are unpredictable. let's explore a little how broken each of them are.

Alpha:

the Siberian package, he can nullify all kinetic energy applied to him, he can exert essentially infinite kinetic energy through his body. he is the hydraulic press from the you tube videos. he is both the unstoppable force and the immovable object.

despite his almost limitless capacity for violence he is relatively pacific, he is located in one specific small city in the united states and mostly keeps to himself. whenever he needs food he just goes to a store and takes it. he kept having encounters with cops but there were no amount of bodies, guns, barricades, handcuffs, cop cars, jail cells or tanks that could stop him from calmly walking back towards his house. he would just walk through those things unimpeded without slowing down, leaving behind a trail of bent metal, crushed concrete and pulverized bodies.

this escalated into an all out military encounter until they realized there was no way to make this guy stop, also by this time the other individuals were starting to pop out and cause their own problems so eventually the powers that be deemed him as harmless enough and redirected their attention to those guys.

in a way he is literally the least violent of the group since no violence can ever be enacted on him and he sees no need to ever enact violence on anyone. he tries to be nice and friendly but everyone in the city is too terrified of him to ever respond in kind. he is kind of lonely.

weaknesses: his body is as weak to poison, disease and asphyxiation as a normal human body, although to administer these attacks can prove to be exceedingly difficult since he can extricate himself from any restraint and his body cannot be pierced by any needle.

Bravo:

mind reader, mind controller.

very little can be said or even known about him. Took the strategy early on of erasing all perception of himself from the minds of people wherever he went. he presumably existed for years, although it is impossible to say how many, until he finally decided to allow his existence to be known.

all that is known about him is known because he allowed it to be thought about. all that people feel or think about him is because he either allowed or shaped those thoughts and emotions. there is a possibility you will forget having read this paragraph after finishing it.

he has let out that he has used armies of mind controlled people in the past, there is no knowledge about whether he still does or how big the ranks are, there is no way of knowing if we are already part of those ranks. the only thing that is known is that the other individuals are immune to him, which is small consolation given that they are as impossible to control as he is.

he currently lives under surveillance at the military research installation in [undisclosed location] with Delta. the nature of their relationship is unknown. occasionally cooperates with the few experiments he allows to be suggested to him.

weaknesses: [redacted]

Charlie:

in many ways considered the worst of the group, though not necessarily the most malicious. unstable, unpredictable and highly dangerous, she was know as "the nightmare" during her time in operation in Australia.

she was capable of hyper accelerating her body and her perception of time. because she was not the flash and these were not comic books, wherever she went she was accompanied by a sonic boom and a super heated ball of plasma, a product of the air being hyper compressed by her movements. because of this she caused untold destruction and damage every time she was active.

her personality was best described as erratic and immature, possibly neurodivergent. she would engage in her own private "games" that would result in cities being razed to the ground and people being liquefied around her.

she self destroyed in one of her games, presumably when she tried to push her power to the limits and reach light speed. the result of this was her own instant annihilation as well as the loss of the entire west portion of Australia.

weaknesses: although specific weaknesses in the manifestation of her powers could never be properly measured or observed, her instability and proven capacity for self destruction is unofficially counted as such

Delta:

can generate and nullify all heat, light and electricity within a kilometer. at first people claimed he was a walking atom bomb, although when extrapolating the upper limits of power that the other individuals have shown it wouldn't be out of the question to consider him a walking supernova, possibly even bigger. while his capacity to generate near infinite energy is plenty threatening, the real danger he possesses is his capacity to reduce anything around him to 0° kelvin (-273°C), as well as instantly nullifying all electrochemical reactions inside a human body.

he is currently kept under surveillance at a military research base located in [undisclosed location], cooperating with research and experimentation on the nature of his powers. he cohabitates with Bravo, the nature of their relationship is unclear.

weaknesses: whilst they can neutralize any manifestation of energy near his body , this is a conscious action on their part, as opposed to the automatic neutralization of all kinetic energy possessed by Alpha. they have burned and temporarily blinded themselves out of carelessness in multiple occasions

Echo:

mostly a nomad, wanders across the world carrying out elaborate plans. their knowledge of the future manifests in them being able to simulate the outcomes of any possible action or choice they make. the range of their knowledge extends from a few seconds into the future up to the heat death of the universe (they have confirmed this is how the universe ends) as well as covering the entire extension of the earth. because of this they are essentially omniscient since they can "predict" what is going to happen on any point on earth "within a few seconds". their simulations happen instantaneously and they can absorb and process the information contained within just as fast.

by far the one individual who interacts the most with regular people, usually to perform some cryptic action or to deliver a mysterious message, presumably a step in one of their complex plans to bring about a desired future. when questioned about this they will claim they are "building heaven on earth" and "following the golden path". what this supposed heaven entails is not too clear.

at the beginning of their "career" they used their power to win multiple lotteries and establish companies, non profit orgs and political lobbies, presumably as tools to carry out their plans. and yet as time went on they abandoned each of these institutions one by one, retreating from the public eye. after this they went on to commit target assassinations on key individuals, this also eventually stopped and as of right now their operations are limited to seemingly arbitrary actions (painting a graffiti on a street on zimbawe, giving out a free sandwich to a homeless woman in brussels, saying "fresh phalanges" to a taxi driver in paraguay). when going against them teams have repeatedly encountered all sorts of unexpected delays and obstacles that appear to happen by chance around them giving them a chance to escape on the nick of time or impeeding the team from operating at all. the nature of their power brings uncomfortable philosophical implications regarding predetermination. one time during an interview they claimed to be "the sole living creature to have ever possessed true free will" he went on to say "see my actions are determined acasually, i don't do what i do affected by antecedent causes, i am affected asynchronously by information from the future, i have broken free from the chain of cause and effect, i am the only person who has ever truly made a choice"

weaknesses: they have admitted once that they are of "average intellect" and that their capacity is that of a normal person when it comes to using the information contained in their visions and well as developing plans around them and keeping track of all this data. they can only obtain visual and auditory information from their visions.

Foxtrot:

the most misanthropic individual of the group. she's located in the abandoned city of Moscow. absolute telekinesis, limitless range and limitless weight, as well as a capacity to keep track and move in extremely complicated and delicate ways a near infinite amount of objects at the same time.

she appeared in the borders of russia ten years ago and started carving a path of destruction all the way to the capital, undeterred by all the armies amassed by the russian people. once in the city she killed every person who didn't evacuate on time and took over the kremlin. after this russian military decided to empty most of their nuclear arsenal on her location. rather than stopping the missiles mid air (a feat she had demonstrated she was perfectly capable of by then) she allowed the bombs to explode and protected herself with a telekinetic forcefield.

right now she lives in the kremlin, floating a hundred meters above the radioactive crater that used to be moscow.

her most high profile attack was to change the orbit of the moon after her demands to be left alone hadn't been satisfied by russian authorities. after this russia, as well as the rest of the world, surrendered since she has threatened to do the same with the sun if she is ever interfered with again. because of her extremely aggressive nature very little has been discovered about her personality or her aims. on occasion she will move her floating fortress above a populated city and make a supermarket arise from the ground up to her palace where she will presumably restock on food and water only to then drop the supermarket back into the ground unceremoniously.

weaknesses: while her range and capacity to move things is near infinite she can only grab hold of things within her field of view, once grabbed they can be held indefinitely even if she is no longer seeing them.

[magicalmysteryperson]

Rock and Roll

(prev) (start)

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

Name: Footloose

Species: Porelian Aletada

Planet: Poreli

Abilities:

Flipper Protrusion

Aquabatics

Enhanced Lower Leg Strength

Energy Deflection (via kicks)

Capoeira Mastery

Footwork Mastery

Kickboxing Mastery

Enhanced Leap

Enhanced Speed

Flash Step

Energy Absorption

Razor Foot

Shockwave Stomp

Water Walking

Footwork Mastery

Flowmotion

Flawless Coordination

Street Dance Mastery

Dance Combat

Kinetic Energy Manipulation

Kinetic Force Redirection

Trajectory Manipulation

Juggling Combat

Juggling Mastery

Soccer Combat

Tactical Analysis

Opportunity Sense

[femmefirmware]

Stronger than Code

The room smelled of polished wood and wealth. A long, obsidian-black table stretched across the center, surrounded by figures in pristine military uniforms and sleek corporate suits. Holograms flickered above the table—data streams, performance metrics, projected kill ratios.

Vance Aldrin stood at the head of the room, hands clasped behind his back. His voice carried the practiced ease of a man who had sold weapons before, a man who knew how to make war sound like progress.

"Gentlemen, what you're about to witness is the future of warfare. No pilots, no human error. Just precision. Efficiency. Victory."

A massive screen on the far wall lit up, showing a barren, cratered battlefield. The feed came from a reconnaissance drone hovering above, capturing every inch of the landscape. In the center stood a lone mech—painted in military grays, its armor thick and battle-worn. A Sentinel-class war machine.

Inside, Arrow sat in the cockpit of Cestia, rolling her shoulders against the harness. The pre-battle checks had been routine. She'd been told this was a weapons test, a stress trial against some combat drones. Nothing more.

"Telemetry reads fine," Cestia's voice chimed in her helmet. Cool. Steady. "No abnormalities."

Arrow exhaled through her nose, running her fingers over the controls. Her loadout was standard: the X-77 Arc Rifle sat in her primary slot, charged and waiting; Hydra Rocket Pods lined her mech’s shoulders, micro-missiles preloaded for rapid strikes. Adaptive Plating monitored her armor integrity, while her Reactive Shock Barrier was primed for emergency defense.

Overprepared for drones, but orders were orders.

"Any idea what we're up against?" she asked.

"Negative," Cestia replied. "No combat signatures detected yet."

Arrow shifted in her seat, gripping the controls. Something about this felt off.

Back in the boardroom, one of the military commanders adjusted his posture, frowning. "She doesn't know the details?"

Vance smiled thinly. "A soldier fights best when tested, General. Besides, the machines don’t need an advantage. This is simply a demonstration of inevitability."

On the screen, movement flickered at the edges of the battlefield. One mech. Then another. Then a dozen.

Arrow’s fingers tightened around the controls as her radar flared to life.

Multiple hostiles detected.

"Twelve signatures. No IFF tags," Cestia reported, her voice steady.

Arrow’s heart gave a single, sharp beat. Drones didn’t carry IFF markers, but twelve? That wasn’t a routine stress test—that was an ambush.

She swung Cestia’s optics toward the ridgeline ahead. Figures emerged from the haze of dust and distant fires—sleek, angular, and unmistakably military-grade. Their metallic frames caught the weak sunlight, reflecting it in cold, artificial flashes. No insignias. No cockpits.

Autonomous mechs.

Her stomach twisted into knots.

“This isn’t a weapons test,” she murmured. “It’s a goddamn execution.”

------

In the boardroom, the assembled commanders murmured among themselves, watching the autonomous mechs take formation. Their movements were synchronized, unnervingly smooth—no hesitation, no wasted motion.

Vance clasped his hands together, voice level. "These are the VX-99 Autonomous Combat Units, better called ACUs. Each one is equipped with onboard tactical processors, capable of analyzing and responding to battlefield conditions in real time. Faster than any human. More precise than any pilot."

Onscreen, Arrow's mech shifted stance, rifle rising.

"Now," Vance continued, "we see the difference between man and machine."

------

Arrow didn’t wait. The second she had a clear shot, she took it.

Bolts of blue energy streaked through the air, hammering into the nearest machine’s chest. The first few rounds impacted harmlessly against the armor—kinetic dispersal fields redirecting the force.

Then the machines returned fire.

Tracer rounds laced toward her, cutting tight, overlapping paths. The barrage wasn’t wild or erratic—they were boxing her in, predicting her movements before she even made them.

Cestia reacted first.

"Defensive pulse—activating."

A concussive wave burst outward, warping the air in a shimmering ripple. The first wave of bullets scattered, thrown off course by the disruption field.

Arrow took the opening and moved.

She fired a tether, the line snapping forward and latching onto a ruined structure to her right. The instant it locked, the winch reeled her in, yanking her out of the kill zone just as the next salvo shredded the ground where she had been standing.

Landing hard, she swung her rifle up and fired another burst—this time, aiming for the exposed joint seams. The rounds struck true, melting through servos. One of the ACUs staggered, its balance thrown.

Arrow didn’t hesitate.

A quick thought armed the warheads on her back, locking onto the crippled machine. The launchers barked, micro-missiles streaking forward in a screaming salvo.

Impact. Fire and metal bloomed outward as the ACU was torn apart. One down.

"Enemy destroyed," Cestia confirmed.

But the others weren’t slowing down.

Arrow gritted her teeth, pulse hammering in her skull. This isn’t a fight. This is survival.

And she was outnumbered.

------

Arrow moved fast, firing as she dashed between cover. The first machine had fallen, but eleven remained. They moved in precise, calculated patterns, shifting formation to adapt to her positioning.

'They’re predicting me.'

The ground near her feet exploded in a shower of debris as incoming rounds punched through the ruins she used as cover. She twisted away, but even as she moved, she could see how their fire adjusted—cutting off escape routes, funneling her toward open ground.

“They prioritize efficiency,” Cestia said, her voice level. “Minimal wasted fire. No redundant targeting. If you were stationary, you’d already be dead.”

“Encouraging.”

“But they lack improvisation. Exploit that.”

Arrow’s eyes flicked across the battlefield. The terrain was ruined, uneven—littered with collapsed structures and unstable footing. Places a human would instinctively avoid. Places a machine would process as a no-go zone.

She made her decision.

Pushing off from cover, she sprinted toward a fractured overpass, dust kicking up around her. The enemy adjusted, weapons tracking. But instead of taking the expected route—ducking into a crater or weaving between debris—she leapt onto a precarious ledge of shattered concrete.

The moment her weight hit, the surface collapsed beneath her. As expected.

She launched another tether mid-fall, the line snapping taut against a distant beam. The sudden jolt wrenched her sideways, sending her into an unpredictable swing just as the next wave of fire tore through the crumbling ledge where she’d been a moment before.

The AI hesitated. Only for a second. But that was all she needed.

Arrow twisted mid-swing, leveling her weapon. The shots slammed into their exposed sections, burning through thin plating where cooling vents had cycled open. The first machine staggered, systems failing. Another shot put it down for good.

A second unit moved to compensate—too slow. A fresh spread of missiles shrieked through the air and detonated against its side, rupturing its core.

Nine left.

She hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact. Keep moving. Keep fighting.

------

In the boardroom, one of the commanders leaned forward. "She's adapting."

Vance’s expression remained impassive, but his fingers tapped once against the table. The machines should have overpowered her by now.

“The ACUs are not designed for reckless engagements,” he said smoothly. “They assess, adjust, and correct.”

Onscreen, the remaining units shifted formation. Less aggression. More calculation.

A bad sign.

Vance’s jaw tightened. He had spent years building this program, promising superiority without human frailty. If this test failed, so did his entire vision.

------

Arrow's breathing was sharp, controlled. Her armor’s cooling vents cycled hard, dispersing heat from the last exchange. Nine hostiles remained—still too many.

She flicked her optics across the terrain. The battlefield was a graveyard of past conflicts, rusting steel skeletons of vehicles and shattered structures dotting the landscape. A machine would see an obstacle course. A pilot saw opportunities.

They were repositioning, adjusting to her tactics. Their advance was slower now, measured. They wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice.

“Cestia, any openings?”

“They’re prioritizing encirclement. No single weak point.” A pause. Then: “But they’re maintaining even spacing. If you disrupt one, the formation falters.”

Arrow’s mind raced. Break the formation. Make them panic.

She surged forward, closing the gap on the nearest unit. The machine reacted, weapon tracking her approach. But she wasn’t aiming for it—she was aiming for the wreckage behind it.

As soon as she was close enough, she fired her tether, the line latching onto a rusted-out tank husk. She yanked herself forward at breakneck speed, momentum carrying her straight past the enemy unit.

It adjusted, recalculating—too late.

Arrow twisted in midair, weapon flaring. Close-range, full burst. The concentrated fire tore through its exposed flank, internal systems sparking before it crumpled forward.

The formation hesitated.

She wasn’t done.

Bracing against her landing, she swung her sights toward the next unit, already launching her next salvo. The micro-missiles streaked toward their target, detonating in a concussive chain reaction that sent two more collapsing in heaps of metal and fire.

Seven left.

But the others weren’t idle. They were learning.

The next wave of fire came even before she could recover. Precise. Unrelenting.

Her plating adjusted, reinforcing under the onslaught, but she still felt the impact shake through the frame. Warning indicators flared across her HUD. "Hull integrity compromised."

Cestia’s voice cut through the chaos. “Structural damage reaching critical thresholds. Prolonged engagement at this rate will result in system failure.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Arrow gritted out, throwing herself behind cover.

She needed an edge. A way to tip the fight before they wore her down.

Speed.

Her fingers hovered over the trigger. The Overclock system was a last resort. It would push Cestia past normal limits—faster reactions, enhanced targeting, boosted fire rate. But it would also burn through coolant reserves. If she miscalculated, she’d overheat.

She exhaled. No choice.

Her thumb flipped the safety.

“Cestia,” she murmured, “give me everything.”

------

In the boardroom, a technician’s voice broke through the tense silence.

“Sir, the pilot just activated Overclock.”

Vance’s gaze snapped to the screen. His stomach twisted.

“She’s overheating already,” the technician continued. “She’ll last maybe thirty seconds before she cooks her own systems.”

Vance clenched his jaw. She should be running. She should be breaking.

But instead, the screen showed something else entirely.

------

The world sharpened.

Time stretched, then snapped forward.

The moment the Overclock engaged, Arrow felt the surge—the mech responding like it was part of her own body. Faster. Sharper. Deadlier.

She was already moving before the enemy could react.

She closed the distance in a blur, her first volley ripping straight through a unit’s core before it could even register the threat. Six.

Another turned, attempting to adjust, but she was already behind it. Two shots to the servos, one to the head. Five.

The remaining machines scrambled, shifting to counter—but they were too slow.

Arrow wasn’t thinking anymore. She was acting, pure instinct.

The third target went down with a brutal strike to its chassis, molten metal pouring from the rupture. Four.

She twisted, barely avoiding the counterfire. Her systems screamed warnings. Overheat imminent.

But there were only three left.

She could finish this.

------

Vance watched as the ACUs collapsed, one after another, their superior processing meaning nothing against pure human instinct.

His stomach twisted.

The last unit tried to retreat—retreat—but the pilot wasn’t letting it go.

The screen flickered as the final kill was confirmed.

Then, silence.

------

Arrow stood in the wreckage, her mech battered, overheating warnings flashing across her HUD. Her limbs shook inside the cockpit. Her breath was ragged.

But she was alive.

Cestia’s voice came through, soft this time. “All hostiles eliminated.”

Arrow let her head fall back against the seat, exhaling.

She won.

She didn’t know what would happen next. Didn’t know what the executives would say, or if they would send more.

But in this moment, she knew one thing:

A mech is only as mighty as the pilot inside it.

And she had proven that.

------

In the boardroom, the silence stretched. The commanders exchanged glances—calculating, decisive. Finally, one of them leaned forward, voice firm.

“This program is a failure.”

Another nodded. “If a single pilot can dismantle an entire squadron, we can’t trust these machines to hold the line in real combat.”

Vance’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

The highest-ranking officer stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his uniform. “We’ll be sticking with human pilots. Meeting adjourned.”

One by one, the commanders filed out, leaving Vance alone in the dim glow of the monitors.

On the screen, the battlefield was still—nothing left but burning wreckage and a single battered mech standing in the midst of it.

His creation had failed.

And worst of all—they had lost to a human.

------

A/N: Phew, this was one of my longer posts, but I bring more news! Firstly, Mechaposting, a discord server for mech (and armored cavalry) enjoyers of all kinds! Still rather young, it aims to be a place that's accepting and meant for discussion.

Secondly, I intend to create a long form story on Royal Road and/or AO3, more details to come.

And lastly, due financial issues in real life, I have now made a Ko-Fi page! Nothing is required, of course, but any help is much appreciated!!

That's all for now pilots, till next sortie.

[mjrtaurus]

I'm just sitting here thinking about Sabo's line of the claws of the dragon liberating the innocent and tearing down oppressors. The claws that clutch a human skull and shatter it to pieces like an egg (he totally should have gotten to crush Bastille's head as a treat).

And then I remembered Dragon fishing Sabo out of the sea by grasping his tiny little hand in his massive claws so gently. Sabo watching Dragon summoning a hurricane with one swipe of his claws. Even if he can't command the elements, Sabo wanted more than anything to have claws of his own.

Sabo thinks about how it’s always Fish-Man Martial Arts that the children get taught. The open palm strikes and the redirection of kinetic energy. No claws. Difficult to be unintentionally lethal. Dragon isn’t having these children turned into child soldiers like the World Government likes to claim. He’s having them taught so that they can defend themselves when needed and not become killers while doing so.

Sabo thinks about how the Dragon Claw Fist is a merging of Fish-Man Martial Arts and the Finger Pistol of the Six Powers. It prioritizes the weak spots over all else. If you can’t assess your opponent properly, the true strength of it is lost.

There’s philosophy to that, Sabo knows. The ends can’t justify the means. If you’re willing to let innocent lives be collateral damage in the pursuit of change, you have allowed yourself to become another oppressor.

Sabo thinks about Dragon and the stories he’s shared of his days in the Marines, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing even when the orders felt wrong.

Sabo thinks about how Dragon had been an oppressor once upon a time, but wasn’t one anymore. How he’d been a four clawed beast of the government that had renounced his ways and taken off one of his own talons in penance.

Sabo thinks about how Dragon had been kinder to him in those first few seconds of their meeting than his own parents had ever been in the ten years they’d made him suffer.

Sabo loves Dragon for showing him what a father is supposed to be. Sabo loves the Dragon Claw Fist for the ideals that created it.

[quirkwizard]

What are some quirks that synergize well together and would look like one quirk to other people? Like how Deku had originally said that Black Whip was apart of his original quirk rather than a completely different quirk. An example could if Bakugo had Landmine it would just be considered apart of his quirk because it causes explosions of other objects and could be easily believed by the public.

Ignoring any Quirks with direct relations, like the Iidas, the Himuras, or the Todorokis, there's only a handful of options that I think really fits that. At least, not without a lot of stretching of the concepts of one or both Quirks or going for two redundant options, like "Larceny" and "Attraction of Small Objects", "Confession" and "Polygraph", or "Homing" and "Boomerang". And I'll just stick to how you can fenagle them into a single Quirk.

-Black Whip/Rivet Stab: You can control your whips enough to harden them to a rigid point -Arbor/Vines: You have a plant body that you grow and control. You're hair just so happens to be vines. -Larceny/Slide and Glide: You've trained your propulsion enough to be able to attract things as well. -Somnambulist/Sleep Gas: You can push your gas to new heights, but makes it far more toxic. -Transform/Meatball: You can shape your flesh, but need a genetic staple to replicate others. -Softening/Stiffening: You can make things hard or soft instead of only one or the other. -Overlock/High Spec: You're brain is so advanced that you can overload your brain to make yourself faster. -Absorb and Release/Impact Recoil: You can redirect attacks, but it's easiest to do with kinetic energy. Anything else can be dangerous.

[oshlet]

Customised variant of the Lohan-Scott 'Dope' Light Mech. Modifications tend towards making it easier to repair in-field and being more robust overall: The large head unit which contains a laser has been switched for a smaller, better armoured replacement, and the forward camera has been removed entirely, with an analogue periscope in its place. Main armament is a 4-aperture converging laser rifle. For anti-armour combat, all four lasers fire simultaneously while for soft targets, they're instead ripple-fired to increase fire-rate. At the right shoulder sits a 2x5 grenade launcher loaded with 'Sink' munitions - air bursting grenades with a mixed payload of hot smoke and reflective strips, capable of confounding radar, visual and infrared sensors while also disrupting laser fire. The left shoulder is fitted with a high-frequency deflector shield, capable of redirecting lower mass, supersonic projectiles - namely cannon rounds or anti-tank missiles. The energy draw of such a system is immense, so it can only be activated for short periods. Furthermore, it has limits with regards to especially high-energy impacts like railguns and is utterly useless against lower-speed kinetics like melee weapons.

[uncanines]

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃   FAYÇAL   KNEZEVIC   ⁝   a   pragmatic   yet   barbaric   twenty8  year   old   agent   of   pandora,   also   known   in   atlantis   as   reverb   of   the   wrath   division.   born   and   raised   in   brooklyn,   new   york,   fayçal   had always been a hot - tempered hellion, always finding reasons to start fights and provoke ire. and it was no surprise when he eventually found a way to make a living with his fists⸻ a brutal and competitive brawler that ran in the same underground fighting circles as the late agent pulse. however, fayçal eventually landed in prison after proudly  beating   a   gang   of   nazi   skinheads   to   death. after a few years, his release was secured by the charity division after his name was recommended by pulse ; trading a life in prison for service. although fayçal knezevic is dead to the world, he is now an invaluable asset to pandora, one of the few to survive the top-secret mutation process. his gift ? the ability to sense and manipulate the specific resonant frequencies that all matter and energy vibrate at, turning the very pulse of his surroundings into his weapon.

MORE INFORMATION UNDER THE CUT.

I. BASIC INFORMATION.

FULL NAME:         fayçal amine knezevic.         AGE  & DATE OF BIRTH:         twenty8 + april 13th 1997.         GENDER  &  PRONOUNS:         cis man + he / him.         SEXUAL  &  ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION:         bisexual biromantic.         OCCUPATION:         former underground fighter.         FAMILY:        [ THIS INFORMATION HAS BEEN EXPUNGED. ].         AGENT DIVISION:        wrath.         YEARS IN PANDORA:        two years.         SPECIAL ABILITY:        vibration manipulation.         CALLSIGN:        reverb.

II. PSYCHE.

ALIGNMENT:         chaotic evil.         TEMPERAMENT:         phlegmatic-choleric.         ENNEAGRAM:         4w5, the free spirit.         MBTI:         isfp, the adventurer.         ASTROLOGICAL PLACEMENTS:        aries sun, aries moon, cancer rising.         POSITIVE:         pragmatic, adroit, self-reliant, cunning, unshakable.         NEGATIVE:         callous, barbaric, volatile, antagonistic, emotionally closed-off.         LIKES:         the   metallic   taste   of   blood   in   his   mouth   after   a   win,   stray   dogs   that   bite   before   they   bark,   bruises and scars   that   don't   need   explaining, the satisfaction in winning a fight he didn't start but ended, blunt honesty no matter how ugly, loyalty that is earned and not forced.         DISLIKES:         authority that do not deserve the power, emotional manipulation dressed as concern, people who talk big but never act, anyone who looks at him with pity, overly sentimental speeches.

III. SKILLS & ABILITIES .

EXPERTISE:         athletics, close combat mastery, battlefield endurance.         PROFICIENCIES:         pain tolerance, acrobatics & evasion, perception, brute force, intimidation.         SUBSTANDARD AREAS:         persuasion, culture & politics. ABILITY OVERVIEW:         agent reverb can perceive, manipulate, and weaponize vibrational frequencies. this ability extends to various applications such as :  - generating shockwaves by amplifying localized vibrations, capable of destabilizing structures or incapacitating individuals - inducing disorientation, nausea, or unconsciousness by attuning to biological frequencies - absorbing and redirecting kinetic energy through resonance, making him highly resistant to blunt force trauma and able to absorb vibrations such as earthquakes - causing molecules to vibrate violently enough that the bonds between them are destroyed, effectively disintegrating matter into the atmosphere - utilizing his vibrational awareness to anticipate attacks and counteract movements. LIMITATIONS:         agent reverb's ability to manipulate vibrations is not without consequence. forcefully suppressing or internalizing his abilities for extended periods puts excessive strain on his body, leading to internal injuries such as ruptured veins and internal bleeding due to increased pressure, microfracture in bones which can escalate to full breaks, muscle tears and nerve damage from prolonged tension. this means that absorbing too much kinetic energy without releasing it turns his body into a conduit for the stored force, risking catastrophic injury. emitting powerful shockwaves directly through his body can also create reverberations that can shatter his own bones if unregulated. to mitigate this, atlantis' r&d department has outfitted agent reverb with vibration-dampening gauntlets that help him channel vibrations better and disperse excess energy.  most importantly, agent reverb's abilities are directly tied to his heart rate and emotional state. sudden spikes in anger, stress, or adrenaline can trigger involuntary tremors, sometimes escalating into uncontrolled seismic pulses. in extreme emotional distress, agent reverb can inadvently cause localized earthquakes, shattered objects, and even knock himself unconscious from the sheer physical backlash. as a result, he must constantly regulate his emotions, forcing himself to remain composed even in high-stakes field operations.