#it’s riveting /gen

[starburstsobsessions]

I got 4 hours of sleep last night. Yes I love cardfight vanguard season 1

[morethanmeetstheass]

before any of you ask yes i am gonna finish kwz i have a whole life sob story thats been holding me back but life is good brain is sane fingers are ready to type

[shuploc]

Hey Shuploc! Did you start posting on TikTok? I was just double checking cuz I was worried someone was online pretending to be you. They just posted your Miguel polaroid picture 

Oh, that was me! I made an account a little while back cuz I was afraid someone might snatch up my username, but mainly because so many people kept telling me they had seen my art being reposted and had been trying to find the original artist, which... felt pretty awful lmao.

I honestly didn't even know tiktok had a photo option, so I never considered posting on there cuz I thought it was just all video content, but I was wrong! Thank you so much for reaching out though and for asking, that really means a lot! 🥹❤️

[m1d-45]

listen LISTEN, it's not my fault that my mouse click that "quick start" button blame mihoyo for putting in there-

the quick start button is my baby, my child it allows me to skip anything to get to content, I have to be in a certain mood to watch more in genshin

- 🍄 (mi*** I swear- I won't leave just don't throw me in their again-)

“it’s not my fault they put the button” THATS NOT AN EXCUSE DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH XIAO LORE IS IN THAT QUEST BABE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WITHOUT THAT KNOWLEDGE???

“i have to be in a certain mood” 1) based in the same 2) FOR HOW LONG. HOW LONG WILL YOU BE IN THIS STASIS.

[paulinawoodpecker]

Ratchet and clank next gen

Noah: (12)

[milqueandsugar]

Imagine kissing lucifer, Alastor, like really intensely after the battle with heaven!

If possible! Feel free to ignore if not🥺💖

🌼☕` Your Tea Is Ready `☕🌼

Gen / hurt comfort (?) Mostly Fluff

Includes / alastor , Lucifer

A/N - wrote this with sun stroke and it was positively unhinged, I'm hoping I've molded this into something normal lmao

| ALASTOR |

He had been missing for days, there were moments where you feared that he HAD died, then minuets, then hours. Soon the grief you had been denying began to creep into your heart, and it wasn't long until you joined Charlie in her grief, though yours developed into something closer to despair Then as quick as he disappeared he reappeared, chipper and in song and so inguriatingly happy to see you again. You hated him, you hated him for leaving you, you hated him for letting you worry, you hated him for trying to fight Adam all on his home, and you hated how overcome with love you were the moment you saw him. You near tackled him into a hug, which he infuriatingly reciprocated, squeezing you as though he missed you just as much

"My dear-!"

"Shut up!" You huff, pulling him in for a kiss, you can feel him grin against your lips, his hands curling into your shirt, the fabric offending him all of a sudden He keeps you there until you can't breathe, chasing your lips afterwards, as hungry for your love as you are for his.

"I missed you." His voice is soft, quiet, without his filter. It's raw and vulnerable and sparks adoration in your jest like a firework

"You didn't have to. You could have come home." He looks like he wants to say something, but only nods, peppering your face with kisses as he begins to figure his way out of this one.

| LUCIFER |

You let out a rattled breath, somewhere between a scream and a gasp at the sight of your lover. His horns split the skin of his skull, clothes tattered and stained with blood and soot. His soft, porcelain skin marred with bruises that were already in the late stages of healing due to his angelic blood. Angelic or not, fear and worry struck you like lightening as you near trip over rubble to get to him.

"LUCIFER?!" Your voice is hoarse, given the widening of his scarlet eyes you cannot imagine that you look any better than he does. You grab his face in your hands, scouring him for injury.

"Are you hurt? Did you get hurt?" Your eyes dart frantically over his figure, by time they reach his face again his eyes are wet and his lips are trembling. "Lucifer- lucifer talk to me are you hurt-?"

You barely utter the word 'hurt' before his lips are crashing onto yours. His hands once still at his sides frantic to take you all in at once, squeezing, sliding, groping at your skin as he pulls you ever closer.

"You're safe." He whispers like a prayer. He peppers your face in kisses. "We're safe. The hotels safe.." He's breathless you realize, your labored breaths matching his the way his arms constrict around you.

"It's over- we're safe.. it's over." He rests his head on your shoulder, hands slowing to soothing motions over your back. You realize at some point you had begun to cry.

"Yeah- yeah we're safe." You sniffle, wiping at the tears that riveted down your cheeks in broken, uneven streams.

[thegoldencontracts]

Greetings! I am here to spread propaganda for Kalim + Malleus + Tweels friendship squad.

So post story, Kalim is trying to be more independent and Malleus is trying to make friends. Curtesy of the mc, Kalim and Malleus now frequently team up to face the great challenges of doing laundry, figuring out a vacuume cleaner, and learning to cook without blowing shit up. Considering both have insecurities of about being alone (Kalim with everyone wanting him dead and Malleus with everyone being terrified of him), they connect fairly easily and are just cute besties.

To ease himself out of his oblivious habits, Kalim has started keeping a journal of every little observation he makes no matter how insignificant it is. This lead to him developing a routine of sitting in busy areas and people watching. Whenever Floyd got bored, he went to chill with Kalim and they'd make a game out of making up stories about other based on Kalim's observations. It didn't take long for them to be joined by Jade who was also pretty bored.

Through these riveting circumstances Malleus and the Tweels formed a sweet little gang with Kalim. Malleus and Jade are often geeking out about their hyperfixations while Kalim and Floyd get into shenanigans. Malleus just enjoys the random chaos that is Floyd cause now he's tried so many new things, Jade just appreciates chaos in general and likes having someone who will actually listen to his hyperfixations, Floyd likes watching Malleus' shocked expressions at every new little thing, and everybody just likes Kalim and are encouraging his new observation skills.

GAHHH THIS IS SO GOOD YOURE A GENIUSSSS AGHHGHHHH /gen

Kalim and Malleus actually do have a lot of similarities, like a lack of awareness of a lot of human appliances, hard times during social situations, etc. Them bonding over trying to figure out chores is so fun imo.

The twins are also probably being egged on by Azul, after all, Azul canonically wants to get closer to Malleus—Kalim as well, so they're just thinking about how hilarious both Malleus and Kalim are while doing their thing while Azul's eyes are filling up with money signs.

And also as a little aside, I love mixing Jade with genuine kindness because the result is so hilarious and probably cute. Like, imagine him being so shocked when Kalim is genuinely interested in hearing him talk. What is this??? Someone doesn't think his interest in odd? Kalim genuinely wants to hear more? He's act just like- slightly amused, but he can't hide his slight blush.

Anyways it's just a super cute idea imo, thanks for sharing <3

[therightrighthand]

And Pt.2 of the Fallout-Delv-erse lore! Because honestly, I couldn't pick between soft lovable herbo, and murder hobo, so we're getting both.

D.31-A, rouge Courser jerk of the Commonwealth.

Follow on from Dee & Rolls

~

Lore:

[???] "Audio recording, date [REDACTED] between Doctor Langstrum, Senior Institute Bio Division, and myself [REDACTED] regarding project D.31-A"

[D] "Again, I am going on record to state that there was plenty of oversights on project D.31-A and-"

[???] "Please Doctor, let keep to the questions. How about we start with what D.31-A is, and it's history."

[D] "Hmmph ... Fine. -sigh-, well we may as well start at the beguining with the Synth Program. After the sucessful test run of our 3rd generation Synth in the Capital Wasteland passing undercover as human in 'Rivet City', full production of next gerneration syths were approved for masss production."

"And whilst the topic of Synths seemed focused on under-cover intigration, security was also a keen concern. Our second genration synths, though tough, were far from subtle, and a militerised third generation synth seemed nessasery. The goal was to create something with a bit more bite, a single agent, rather than dozens of gen-1's and 2's littering the commonwealth."

"D3.1-A was the answer to this, our first official prototype of the Courser's we know today."

[???] "Why was D.31's biodata used for the Courser program? And can you explain in detail why they were so well equipped for a prototype?"

[D] "Well, obviously, D.31's DNA proved to create a natural resistance to radiation, so it only made sense to base D.31-A on their genetic makeup and memories, as we had done with Gen-3 synths so far."

"As for their ... 'equipment', you must understand that in the early days of testing, D.31-A wasn't built like our truly synthetic Coursers. They were designed to combine the most physically powerful elements of our Gen-2s with the outer fleshy coating of a Gen-3. Machine, wrapped in flesh."

"At the time, we believed Courser's would be going toe-to-toe against Death Claws and super mutants, so we ... built them to durable, strong and-"

[???] "Exessivly costly?"

[D] "Effective. We built them to be effective. However, as time went by, we realised that less was more, and discreet agents worked more effectively than super-powered assassins."

[???] "Can you tell me what led to losing D.31-A in the field?"

[D] "... again, I want to stress the oversight wasn't just on myself or my team at the tim- ok ok, fine."

"After successfully activating D.31-A and testing them rigorously for months, we felt it was time for a field test in the Commonwealth. So we fitted her with an old raider outfit, had her infiltrate an encampment, and simply let her get to work."

"Needless to say, she was effective—almost ferocious, in fact, if you could call it that."

"But, unfortunately, during the fight, a nuclear device was launched, which knocked out our communication with the Synth handlers observing the experiment. After several hours, we deployed security teams and mercenaries to scout the location and report back. There was no sign of D.31-A ... or her handlers, whom we believed to have been killed by D.31-A"

[???] "What led you to believe it was D.31-A?"

[D] "The entire team had been torn apart and stapled to a concrete bunker with steal poles through their chests and their power systems removed. The working theory is that the blast may have ... damaged ... D.31-A's hardware and left them to go-"

[???] "On a five-year-long murderous rampage of Institute assets, including research centres, 23 mercenaries, 12 staff members on the field, and 18 Courses?"

[D] "... Look, it's been months since we've heard from her, and this speculation that she is helping the railroad is preposterous. It's more than likely that her power core has started to falter, and any information on the institute has been damaged in the process."

[???] "Which brings us to the point of this interview: to uncover the lack of oversight that led to a hostile agent that we cannot stop with information on our most sensitive security protocols. What makes you so sure that information has been destroyed?"

[D] "Because I built her [REDACTED] and if she still had access to our location, our relay, and our defences, we would have been dead a long time ago..."

[INTERVIEW END]

-- Find my Discord and other sites: linktr.ee/The_red_right_hand Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character  Art © The-Red-Right-Hand

[kana-daydreams]

𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 || 𝐔𝐬𝐨𝐩𝐩

main masterlist | op masterlist

summary: you— a princess. a delicate and fragile flower aka 'the damsel in distress’ give the Great Usopp a 'great' surprise. genre: gen cw: minor spoilers. ice hunter arc wc: 0.7k

“Princess, this is the day your eyes get the blessing of witnessing the Great Usopp vanquish his enemies.”

Atop the edge of an ice outcropping inside a glacier cave, you stand behind Usopp, gaze riveted on him in absolute awe as he aims his slingshot down at the overbearing husband and wife couple displaying too much PDA for everyone’s comfort— especially Sanji’s.

“I am blessed.” A dreamy sigh falls from your lips as you swoon over Usopp’s macho pretense—and him.

You were a princess distances away from home, fortunately rescued by the straw hats after they'd found you lost at sea.

And a princess who'd undeniably found herself smitten with a pirate. Heart captured by both his bravado and amusing fabricated tales he’d regale you with whenever you felt homesick.

You cheer Usopp on watching in anticipation as he takes aim down at the couple.

“You’ve incurred the wrath of the almighty Usopp-sama!” His voice bellows with confidence before releasing the projectile that zips down in the direction of the woman, and explodes upon impact, erupting a burst of flames in her face.

“Oh, Usopp! That was amazing!” You gush and Usopp smiles in pride from your praise. But you immediately notice his boastful smile replaced with a taut line and his brown eyes drawn wide as he looks down in the direction he’d sent his attack, all the blood drained from his face.

You follow his gaze to see the husband of the woman— a man with blonde hair, cowboy-inspired attire paired with ice-skates and tacky blue eyeshadow— who'd been knocked unconscious by Usopp, speeding towards you both, his features laced with piercing anger.

Scared out of his wits, Usopp grabs your hand in his, pulling you along with him as he whisks off, steering you both in the opposite direction.

Momentarily, coupled screams of fear and anger echo off the cave's ice walls as the man's chase of you and Usopp in particular persists, Sanji joining the party seemingly out of nowhere. 

However, the chef's chase abruptly comes to an end—Usopp his former target—when he remembers the man’s partner he’d unsurprisingly fallen head over heels for, lying injured and alone in the cold from Usopp’s attack.

“How dare you hurt my honey, Arbell.” The wannabe cowboy's voice rains contempt as he aims a kick in your direction. 

Usopp releases his grip on your hand and shoves you aside the same time the man's leg connects with his side, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. And as he does, a dreadful scream parts from your lips. “Usopp!”

The man stalks towards Usopp’s injured form that slowly keels over from the impact, plummeting to the ground with a heavy thud.

“This is what you get for hurting my honey!” The man moves to land another one of his brutal kicks on Usopp’s vunerable form, but before he can land a strike, your hand seizes his leg with a tight, blood-clotting grip.

“You fuck!” 

The piece of shit that attacked Usopp peers down at you, horror filling his face when he sees your angered expression accompanied by the suffocating feeling of your unadulterated rage.

Like a fish on dry land, his body thrases in your hold in an attempt to release his leg from your iron grip.

“W-What are you doing?!” He quivers out when your other hand wraps around his free leg. His question is soon answered when you twirl your body around at lighting speed, release him from your grip and send him flying off and into the distance.

A loud boom resonates around you and the ground vibrates in an almost violent quake, but you pay it no mind, rushing to attend to a half-conscious Usopp.

You gather his limp form onto your lap clothed by your thick winter attire. “Usopp my beloved, are you okay?” You inspect him thoroughly for any injuries, pulling a handkerchief from your coat pocket and wiping away the small patch of blood you notice smeared on the left corner of his lips.

It takes a minute for Usopp to gather himself before he answers. “I’ve had worse.” He heaves a cough, then another. “By the way princess"—his voice is rapsy as he speaks and eyes half-lidded as he stares at you, both curious and amazed—"you handed it to that guy pretty good. Why didn't you tell me and the others you had devil fruit powers?”

You smile a bright smile down at him, face warming from his praise. 

“Because, I don’t.”

© 2024 kana-daydreams

[penrose-quinn]

Lost Generation

A breeze whistled between your footsteps, ambling in a slow, thoughtless pace that had him thinking both of you had all the time in the world, even if the road ahead was just another meandering path to a farewell. “You'd stay in Black Dragons for a long time, right?”

pairings: benkei | keizo arashi/reader ❁ background (oblivious) shinichiro sano/reader 

content tags: companion piece prequel to green light and spin-off to couldn't tell. first gen black dragons ultraviolence era. gender neutral reader. summer coming-of-age ft. gangs. lots of bromance and bickering. mostly friendship. growing up together and growing apart. beach trip. preemptive grief.  tw: violence (and glorification of violence), shady gang behavior, underage drinking and smoking, and minors getting tattoos. there's a weird age gap scene with college-aged women showing interest in someone younger, nothing sexual happens but still. everyone is 17-18 here.

a/n: like my waka fic, this is mostly platonic!first gen black dragons x reader but more benkei and bromance and beaches. also no one man-crushes harder than benkei lol. btw it's not necessary to read my other installments for this and lots of flashbacks interspersed in the plot!

couldn't tell ❁ green light ❁ read on ao3

From the highway to Chiba, it’s like all of you parted the sea on your motorcycles.

Benkei smelled salt everywhere. There was no end to the ocean that surrounded the road ahead, the industrial plants no more but distant daydreams back in Kawasaki, and then he realized he hadn’t been exposed to open water like this, swore to have never ridden a ferry in his life. 

His heart was too landlocked in the city to care, but this was all Shin’s idea.

Said he wanted to go to a real beach, all white sand shores, shaved ice, and hot babes.  

The journey was still more than an hour-long drive, and Benkei would love nothing more than to throw himself underwater right now. Takeomi wouldn’t stop ranting about the heat and truck traffic. Ignoring his tirade, Wakasa was tanner for baking under the sun. You’re almost caught speeding for badly needing a restroom break, which Shinichiro had to prevent along the way to Umihotaru.

The pitstop was short but unhurried. Takeomi was still at the register while Benkei and Shinichiro soaked up the frosty air of beverage coolers until the store manager told them off. Chewing gum, Wakasa waited with you outside the convenience store. Your gaze was elsewhere, drifting in the waves, and the trance went on upon arriving at Onjuku Beach, crowded in the summertime. 

Benkei never got to know what was on your mind, riveted by a statue of two camel riders from a distance.

A water bottle was tapped on his arm, and after he exchanged his thanks, you asked him, “where do you think they’re going?”

“Who knows? The sea maybe,” he replied, uncapping the bottle for a drink and dumping the rest on his face, dribbling cold water all over his collar. 

“There are showers here, you know.” Your lips quirked up amusedly, and then you pointed at the shoreline crested over with blue, radiant waves. “Or you can go over there.”

“Got excited.” Benkei grinned, finally shrugging off his open shirt and balling it up to wipe himself. The tattoos on his chest and arms flexed from the motion and it caught the curious eye of a child, building sandcastles. She wasn't old enough to turn them into a wall yet. “Aren’t you gonna swim too?”

“Maybe later. No one’s guarding our stuff,” you said, jerking your head at the beach blanket pile-dumped with bags, a haphazard mess. There's a sweaty t-shirt, a tube squirting a bit of sunscreen on the cloth, and some mixed garbage of snack wrappers and half-empty bottled drinks shoved inside a plastic bag.

Benkei cringed, about to comment, until he got a good look at you. Traded for your glasses was a pair of shades from the bargain bin, making you look like a poser, though with the way you quietly huddled and sat on the blanket, arms tucked to your chest, the obnoxious air dispelled. He joined you, ducking under the umbrella; yellow and blue pinstripes, like the ones rented by couples entwined under the shade. You scooted over to give him more room, your elbows brushing each other. 

“Where are the others anyway?” 

“Waka went somewhere, I don't know. Shin dragged Takeomi to, well,” a long, expectant sigh, “girls.”

You snorted. “It is a beach. Sure they’re trying to get their dicks wet too.”

Benkei laughed. You never withheld yourself for those two. Perhaps it came from knowing them since childhood. 

“Hey, what are the odds? Maybe our weak king might have a chance this time.”

“Or come here crying, same old.” You already sound done though there's a sort of rough affection grating through your words, “Shin's a baby like that.”

“A baby?” Some crybaby who had Tokyo in the palm of his hand. Someone who Benkei had sworn to follow for the rest of his life.

“Yup. So how well do you take rejections?”

“Pretty bad. I’ll cry too if I had to lose someone that way. You?” 

You mulled over it for a bit. “I don't know. I haven't confessed to anyone before.”

“Me neither.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Probably would’ve scared ‘em off before I could try.”

“You don't know that yet,” you refuted. “But I think you’ll fall for someone who's brave enough to let you try.”

His lips curled up at that. His vice-captain told him something similar after gaining the love of his now girlfriend, lucky bastard. “You know me that well?”

“Sure I do,” you said cheekily before tilting your head on one side, humming in thought. “At least I know it’d hurt a lot to lose someone like that . . .” 

Benkei was unable to add more because it's just as you put it. He didn't mind listening to you most of the time. There's something revealing about your input that he hadn't taken into consideration himself.

Wakasa would've labeled him a blockhead unlike Takeomi who'd been wise enough to not slip aloud that Benkei wasn't the smartest in their group. It's not the reason why he’d been expelled from his first middle school and he didn't see it as a point of shame if he could smite some sense into anyone who thought otherwise. 

Benkei just fancied himself a big picture kind of guy, preferring to focus on the broader strokes of something, but maybe that's why he valued your tangents. He wondered if wearing fake glasses helped with your attention to detail, even though he couldn't take you seriously in them. 

You pushed up your shades and he sighed. Or in any tacky eyewear you own, really.

“You should talk to some girls,” you prompted suddenly, making him let out a huff, c’mon man, and you shrugged. “Or go surfing then. It's better than cooping yourself here with me.”

“Now you sound like you want me to go away.”

“Never. Just meant you should enjoy the beach while you can.”

“I enjoy being with you.” 

A meek, baffled pause. He’d always caught you off guard with big statements like that, wondering if people say that enough to you other than Shinichiro. 

You recovered with a simper. “Me too,” still awkward after reciprocating, you changed the subject, “it’d be so nice to swim . . .”

In an attempt to cool off, you're tugging the collar of your t-shirt to fan yourself but it's futile when sweat had already curled on the hairs from the nape of your neck. You hadn't changed into any swimwear yet, and then a more intrusive thought caught up to him. 

“Yeah, we should go together.”

“Sure . . .” this time, you removed the stupid shades, your eyes sincere as they met his. “But just so you know, I won't be mad at you if you went ahead of me.” 

Blinking, Benkei felt a bit misled by that, and before he could insist on waiting for you, you beat him to it. 

“I’ll definitely follow after you till someone takes my place,” you reassured him, gazing back at the sea. “One of us has to stay behind.”

True to your word, you did catch up to him. Wakasa tailed after you from the shore, calf-deep into water.

"What are the two of you doing?" asked Benkei, wading towards you. The sun prickled his damp neck.

"Jellyfish hunting," you stated. "Waka agreed that if he gets stung by one, I get to piss on him. Or the other way around, whoever gets stung first."

When Benkei gawked at you, you offered with a straight face, "wanna join in too?" 

Bemused and wide-eyed, Benkei turned his gaze to Wakasa. 

"So you're that kind of guy." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Wakasa wasn't really into the kinky stuff. Though for all his standoffishness, he was a lot smoother than what Benkei gave him credit for persuading you to come out here when the bastard had been better at ignoring a person as if they never existed. Or destroying them. 

It's more amusing to see him sweat for something – someone adamant as you – which granted Benkei so many chances to sneak in not-so-subtle jabs at him in moments like this. Moments where everyone's dumb and careless and in love with their youth. 

"I think I saw—fuck!" 

You slipped, about to fall into water, until Benkei grasped the back of your collar and Wakasa caught you by the wrist. All of your shorts were wet from the splashing. 

Your shades fell in an awkward drop and you craned your head up at them with a grateful grin, murmuring, “uh, just seaweed . . .”

This didn't deter you in your search. In fact, it made you more motivated. Benkei didn't tell you that there weren't any jellyfish in Onjuku Beach, so did Wakasa. They agreed that your efforts were sort of endearing. 

Benkei asked Wakasa if he'd let you piss on him. He didn't answer for awhile until he settled for a shrug.

Sparing him a retort, Benkei didn't repress a chuckle.

Benkei met you when he hurtled himself headfirst into a fight that wasn't his. 

It was yours. Though it just didn't sit well with him that those Kodo Rengo pricks had the gall to step into their territory so the enemy of my enemy was my friend and he went along with that logic when he abruptly joined in with the impact of a boulder. 

You didn't seem like you were a part of any gang at all. Just a random middle schooler but a target regardless. Not an easy one, that's for sure. You fought like you'd been at it for years, all blood and grit. 

You were strong and Ragnarok happened to be in search of that kind of strength so he figured he should recruit you first before someone else did. 

The thing was you weren't just a target when you earned quite a reputation, tied to your older brother who was the leader of a gang that ruled Kanto with an iron-fist from some glorious past. His seniors never shut up about it, him and them being a part of something that used to make them invincible.

Someone who you despised and even with the proposition of taking him down after he’s released from his jail sentence, you'd still decline his offer, not giving it much thought. "I'm sort of helping out my friend. Said something about making a gang."

“Ah, so you're already in his gang . . .”

“No, he just always gets into a lot of trouble! If I’m not there, who’s gonna protect him?”

“Protect, huh.”

But that meant he'd have to fight you too one of these days. You didn't tense over his reply, neither a threat nor an insult. 

Behind those glasses, there's an edge to your eyes. Your brother's eyes, but they weren't cold and wretched.

Benkei couldn’t recall the last time anyone had insistently called him Arashi-san or had bought him a steamed meat bun out of politeness, even though he’d known for years that polite people would rather not hold his gaze, passing over him in an attempt to shun what didn’t fit in the mold of what defined their monotonous, undisturbed lives.

Regardless, he’s not one to refuse free food and taking another bite of his meat bun, he looked at you closely. 

You were terrifying but you seemed sort of nice. In an uptight way. 

So Benkei suggested that you and your friend should just join his gang and you blinked at him before wheezing out a short, honest laugh, claiming that he had already set out his dream. 

Learning he never equaled you in a fight, it only registered to Benkei that he's a weak guy because strength dictated everything in this brutal side of life. Strength like yours and his. When Benkei asked how he was going to lead a gang, you stood against the brilliant glare of the evening and he thought he saw a glimpse of it. 

You smoldered in those colors, one he likened to glory. There was promise in your words. 

"You'll see," you said, staring back at him from your shoulder with a smile. "You probably haven't met anyone like him."

The red sun fell on the name from your lips.

Sano Shinichiro.

There’s no history behind his name like yours and it intrigued him so much that he agreed to meet him so that he could beat him up in a fair fistfight, bringing up that whoever's the victor would have you in his gang. 

Benkei didn’t lose but the favor went to Shinichiro just because he was the most interesting guy he'd ever met. 

He had never met a man who won from his losses. How could one be so triumphant and pathetic at the same time, Benkei didn't know. Though he understood what you meant when you stood by him. 

Shinichiro held the things closest to him sacredly and once he called you his friend, he wouldn’t give you up for anything. Benkei didn’t complicate himself to define what kind of relationship you had. All he had to know was how he fought for you against him, against rival gangs, and even against your brother. 

Everyone held him in reverence for being a pillar of the delinquent world. Except for you.

Your gaze for him was more familiar, softer, though unlike Takeomi, you disagreed with him in too many instances about his reckless lifestyle and the proposal as one of his captains. Shinichiro would come back to you a second time, third, fourth, perhaps more as to measure the desire to have you join them officially. They were convinced he'd be on his knees if this went on though he held up strong in a battle of fortitude. 

Both of you, however, just happened to have the thickest skulls when you butt heads over each other's stubbornness.

"Of course, you're going to be a part of the Black Dragons. Hell, you're even a founding member!"

"You already got what you want! I don't see why you still have to drag me in your gang too."

"I thought we'd do this together? Why not go all the way when you could be my—"

"Should we break them up?"

Wakasa was the one who suggested it after mentioning that you looked like you're about to duke it out. Sensing the escalating tension too, Benkei was about to step in until Takeomi shook his head, cigarette in his hand.

He assured them that you wouldn't hit him for something like that. Another drag of smoke and a sigh. 

"Just give 'em time."

Everyone split on a big bowl of mango shaved ice. 

Two of you were against red beans mixed in at the suggestion of matcha flavor. It wasn't as fun when the syrup couldn't stain your tongues, but it was refreshingly cold and milky sweet when swimming had failed you under the afternoon scorch of 2 p.m.

Prioritizing dessert didn't ruin your appetites for chatter over lunch: comparing sunburns, college girls in bikinis that were way out of everyone's league, and then a callout about Takeomi having his hair tied back into a bun because it actually drew attention. The scar gave him an edge and inflated his vanity. Some more waffling about what women were into, even though no one probably knew what they're talking about. 

You found it weird because they're older than the rest of you and Takeomi brought up that you weren't when you had that dragon tattoo. 

“It's not for showing off to have a hookup.”

“Then what’s the tattoo about anyway?” asked Wakasa and his sudden interest had you flustered.

“Yeah, tell us about that.” Benkei smirked with him, cornering you into a hot seat.

“Bet you cried like a pussy when you had it,” retorted Takeomi.

“Bet you are a pussy when you don’t even have one.”

“Hey, you little—"

“Anyway,” Shinichiro cut in, clearing his throat. He plucked a piece of karaage dipped in mayo from your plate because he's the last one waiting for his food and it’d already been thirty minutes. He was nibbling on Benkei’s fries awhile ago. All of you agreed to feed him out of pity. “Why do you have one?”

“You already know!” you hollered, bumping your fist on the table from the betrayal.

“Huh? Don’t remember,” he feigned obliviousness. “I wasn’t with you when you had it done.”

“You’re still sulking about that?”

“Whatever. C’mon, just tell us—” 

“Number 105!”

“Finally.” Shinichiro stood up, taking his stub with him before shooting back at everyone, “you better not start anything without me!”

He headed to the popular food stall that had the longest line in the area. Probably was the reason why he was in the mood for grilled eel.

“So how long did you have it?” went on Wakasa, casually chewing on a yakitori stick like a toothpick.

“Hm, it’s been four weeks, I think? It isn’t that sensitive anymore.”

“That’s fine. It’s the same for me when I had mine the first time,” Benkei chimed in.

“It's a hassle to cover up in school, though.” 

“Aren’t you committing yourself more to the gang?” 

Takeomi interrupted, scrutinizing you under his hard stare. You returned it with an unblinking one.

“Nah, I’m just attached.” You shrugged before leaning back on your palms, smiling a little. “Figured it was kinda obvious.”

On the day Benkei brought you to the tattoo parlor, he thought the dragon was botched when it's facing the wrong direction. 

He’d been more indignant about it than you were, not even realizing his voice raised in complaint, until you touched his wrist and censured him for being too loud, apologizing to the frightened artist for the trouble and paying for his service.

He was a new hire, a nervous wreck of face piercings, from somewhere. The tattooing business was still the underground kind and getting hold of an artist often came through word of mouth, shunned for the craft as much as the one whose skin had been inked. It always ran deeper for Benkei. He was ten when he first had his on the cusp of his shoulder until they proudly bloomed all over his chest, surviving his adolescence. 

Even behind the saran wrap, the detailed blackwork on the tattoo was impressive, curving around your right calf like a painting. Still . . .

"It's fine. You're looking at me like I'm kinda lame now."

"You're not." Then he gestured his hand at the fallen dragon. You told him before that he articulated his emotions more with his body. Everything around him became askew for it. Passersby twist around a different route from his direction. "Just—it just looks off, you know? Dragons should be flying up and all."

You scoffed. "So you're upset about some bit of symbolism? Yeah, Inoe-san got it wrong but you didn’t have to be an asshole because—"

"I'm upset that you regret this and you can't take it back anymore," he admitted, head hanging low. "And I brought you there . . ."

"I don't want to take it back,” you said, unrepentant of how adults would appraise you for once: a kid with a tattoo, a kid heading nowhere good in life. 

There's a war in your eyes. He’s more ashamed of himself for doubting you than letting you down. 

Benkei was damn sure there wasn’t an inflatable he hadn’t stepped on or an umbrella he left untipped. 

They were scattered everywhere but the beach stretched wide enough for a stroll to not feel so cramped. He’s just avoiding the sunbathers and families who were spread all over the area, waiting to watch the fireworks display tonight.

Because of that, he joined in with you and Takeomi, retreating somewhere in the parking lot. 

Benkei didn’t often see you two alone, much less without Shinichiro defusing an argument, though he found a rare solidarity between you smoking together. You were nodding. Takeomi's arms were crossed after sharing a few words with you, stopping short when Benkei stepped in after coming back from the restroom.

He asked if he disrupted something and Takeomi answered that he wasn't, stomping his cigarette with his shoe. You followed after him when your eyes narrowed at the strangers emerging before you in serpent-emblemed uniforms, some gang from Kansai judging from the accents. Jormungandr.

You seemed more annoyed than anxious about getting jumped. Takeomi didn't mind an introduction through a bloodbath because it’d been a long while since anyone challenged Black Dragons and Benkei had already charged forward for the brawl.

It ended with you.

Jormungandr’s leader met his defeat with a kick so high the last thing he saw was the dragon soaring up.

Your sandal flew off, landing on the heap of mangled bodies that had been dealt by Benkei. His knuckles still smarted for being outnumbered. Takeomi was just as scuffed-up. With his hair down and disheveled, it made his face more severe after pressing a warning on the leader’s hand with his newly lit cigarette. 

Don't mess with us again, trash. The extra measure was for insurance, but there's a cruel streak to his apathy for letting skin burn. Benkei had seen him done worse. You didn't speak against it after overhearing a threat on Shinichiro's life.

Sensing another presence lurking near you, you swung your leg up and Wakasa reacted fast enough to sidestep away, a hairbreadth close. 

Sadly, your foot missed his face.

He whistled. “Nice reflexes.”

“Shit, I could’ve gotten you! Stop coming up behind me like that!”

“No.”

“You three were taking so long. Figured we should check up on ya,” said Shinichiro, strolling towards them amidst the battle; fallen adversaries on his feet. He acknowledged Benkei and Takeomi with a nod, and then picked up your sandal when he approached you. “We should've come sooner, though.”

“You would’ve missed out the action anyway.” The insult wasn't without a light, teasing note, and Shinichiro didn't take it personally, letting you snatch the sandal from him. “We handled it pretty well by ourselves, don't you think?”

“Brutally,” he sighed, unable to hide that disarming grin slowly peeling up his mouth. “You look like hell. Let's get you all patched up—” 

A sudden, fluttering burst of light from the distance.

Shocked, all of you looked up at the sky.

“The fireworks . . .”

“Oh wow, it's starting now.”

“It’s still going on. Let’s make a run for it!”

It hadn't been long since Benkei told you about Ragnarok and you taught him what nostalgia actually meant. 

Natsukashii. The end of summer, he believed, sweltering with memories under his childhood sun in Oizumi, until you scrawled the characters on the back of a gym flier and kindly corrected him, oh, it's natsuku, not natsu. As in to become, you know, attached.  

懐かしい

Your ballpoint pen lingered on the heart radical, lacking the character of a season. 

Benkei wasn't chagrined about it; he's enlightened. 

The end of summer, you repeated, finding it more fitting, and pondered on how summers had to die like sunsets as you scraped the horizon with fingers in the color of twilight. 

Then he asked how much you were well-versed in Norse mythology.

You shrugged. "I'm more familiar with apocalypses. Why'd you name your gang after something like that?" 

“It’s inspiring,” said Benkei, omitting the part that he wasn't a founding member and the true meaning of its relevance might've been lost to him when Ragnarok sounded more like a gang that was meant to bring destruction to the gods from an older generation. “The kind that could define our era.”

“You guys are so obsessed with that,” you pointed out, but not to mock him. It’s just a measured observation. “Shin never shuts up about it. Takeomi goads him on because it's getting in his head too. Even Waka wants to be a part of it and you . . .”

“You don't want it too?”

“I just don't get it,” you blurted. “What's an era all about anyway?”

“You could say it’s how we want to be remembered,” he said it with his chest. It's how we want to show people how we fought and lived.

Benkei didn’t understand why you wanted to be invisible. Or keep up with all these social pretences to be accepted.

When he asked you why you wore fake glasses, you didn't give him a reason. You just shot back why he had his eyebrows shaved instead. He found the exchange amusing, concluding that nobody probably had the balls to ask both of you about it. 

He couldn't help but smirk how you got a bit defensive from his observation as if you had never stood out around them. 

You're the only person he’s ever known to be conflicted over the dichotomy of your life. He’d seen you enjoy listening to the rap mixtapes of his bootleg CDs, stress over college applications more than fights, denounce delinquency and yet.  

It took him a long while to figure out why you looked so out of place in the gang but it still felt as if you belonged there. The otherness spoke to him, really. Guys like him just couldn't seem to find their place in anything after falling through the cracks and it hadn't always been as grandiose as it was until Shinichiro granted them a reason.

Not a lot of them gave a crap about being honorable but they sure did when it felt good to be a part of something greater than themselves. 

It's the stuff of legends, our era.

Takeomi said it with pride and Benkei couldn't have worded it better himself. He glanced back at you, no longer giving in to chase when you let them go on without you, a fond, distant smile on your lips.

Wakasa sprinted ahead of them. Shinichiro still had a slight limp from getting it broken months ago so he fell behind until Takeomi turned to him and offered him his back, waving at him to get on and make it quick.

Despite them joining forces, Takeomi wasn't all that strong or fast for both of them and no one could ever beat Wakasa in a footrace, but they ran, howling out wild laughter as if they won anyway. 

Benkei slowed down to your pace, walking with you. “So attached, eh?” 

You blinked at him before letting out a chuckle. “Well, yeah.” You stretched out your tattooed leg a bit. “I took it quite literally too . . .”

He was distracted by the startlingly tender expression on your face, your lashes lowered, longer, until he snapped out of it and nodded. 

“Benkei.” 

“What?”

“Would you hate me if I told you that I'll quit the gang?”

“No—” The word slipped, and there was something about the urgency that felt like a tug, a step forward. Calmer, this time, “no, not at all.”

You registered his answer for a minute, too quiet next to him. He realized he should back away a bit, collecting himself to offer the reassurance you probably needed to hear more than he did. 

“Hey. Whatever decision you're going with, just know we're all rootin' for ya.” He gave your shoulder a pat and felt himself unwind a breath the moment you untensed from his hand. “You probably have your reasons. Good, I hope?”

It took so much from him to not demand why but you're smiling at him again. Maybe a little sad, a little scared, but it's still your smile, something regained. He’d hate for it to go away.

“Yeah, thanks. That means a lot to me,” and then hesitant, you opened up more, “think Shin will hate me?” 

“Idiot, he won't,” Benkei replied. “His heart's too big for him and he cries like a baby for it. You think that's the kind of guy that'll hate anyone?” 

“No.”

“There you go.”

“But it's just that I haven't told him yet. I haven't told anyone, just you,” you confessed, wistfully glancing down at your tattoo. 

“You know, I was actually terrified when we went to the tattoo parlor. Like what if something goes wrong? There's always something. I couldn't go by myself. Yeah, the tattoo didn't turn out perfect but I like it. I'm glad you were with me when I had it. Then Shin made this stupid tantrum over why I didn't bring him along, but he got over it when he was all giddy and excited over the tattoo. Cheered me up a lot when stuff at home was . . . ” a short breath sucked through your teeth. “Seeing him like that matters so much. I want him to always be like that . . .” 

A breeze whistled between your footsteps, ambling in a slow, thoughtless pace that had him thinking both of you had all the time in the world, even if the road ahead was just another meandering path to a farewell.

“You'd stay in Black Dragons for a long time, right?” 

“Yeah, it's my everything now.” Benkei stared at the dragon on your skin, and then back at you. “And even if you leave, you're still a part of it.” 

You huffed at that and looked onward longingly. "Jeez, you sound like him."

“He isn't wrong about that,” he said, following after your gaze where everyone was, waiting and waving and yelling at the two of you to hurry up; behind them, the fireworks sprung like a flurry of stars in the midsummer night. 

It's a moment he felt in his chest too. 

Guess we're all just attached.

Unfortunately, the fireworks ended too soon.

All of your stuff was left untouched while the people were already packing up and departing from the beach. 

They ignored your wounds. More plasters were bought from a cornershop nearby when your first-aid kit wouldn't suffice. Some schmucks brought bats and brass knuckles though there wasn't any serious damage on your end, even less serious on boasting each of your body counts. Whoever ratted out your location was still an unresolved issue, but your vacation wasn't totally ruined. 

Shinichiro was into the idea of heading to Choshi after learning it's Wakasa's hometown. There were grunts of protest though his whim was met with little to no resistance after the downturn of events and something about the spontaneity was exciting. 

Whatever heart to heart they had, Benkei couldn't fault Wakasa for giving in to Shin’s persuasion as much as he did when he agreed to merge their gangs a lifetime ago. Embark on something new together in a last minute excursion, not knowing what to discover in your destination. 

Your motorcycles were left in the parking lot to stay overnight. There were few passengers on board and three of you were already snoozing away after switching to a new train at Naruto Station. The landscape shifted behind the window; a nocturnal outline of bedtowns and cabbage fields. Wakasa's face was neutral all throughout.

Benkei broke the silence.

“I didn't know you grew up here.”

“Once,” Wakasa shrugged, looking less like a mystery. “Didn’t feel like something I should bring up anyway.”

Wakasa regarded Chiba like it's foreign land and there's no place for him here. Benkei couldn't imagine him coming home to parents – anyone. 

With their paths colliding the way they did, he had always assumed they were orphaned in Tokyo, meant to split it together or conquer more for themselves. It didn't matter which with all the devastation they had caused, leaving a red trail of history in their wake, and sometimes that's enough proof of their existence than a birth certificate. 

Wakasa never asked Benkei about his past. There's more of it branded in their mutual blows and bruises. Benkei knew the brunt of his kicks, his temper. His tendency to be a loyal asshole. How he had the worst sweet tooth ever because, of course, all of you came on this long journey just for him to lead you in a dango shop. The room inside was shabby but cozy in a lived-in sort of way; the menu unvaried. 

The old lady who owned the place gladly obliged, fanning fresh skewers on the grill, after Wakasa approached her with your orders.

Look at you, being a good grandson, Shinichiro joked about their overfamiliar interaction, and Wakasa quipped back that yeah, he's sure to rebel and get an earful like him with his elders. 

Curious, you asked Wakasa if he'd been here before. He was chewing his dango thoughtfully when he offered each of you a stick, glazed in sweet soy sauce, and told you he hadn't with no sense of nostalgia. Just craving for some. 

Inubosaki had coarser sand, a harsh, rocky coastline. A white lighthouse stood atop the cliffside, reminiscent of a twelve-pointed beacon that once ruled East Kanto. 

The inspiration didn’t go unnoticed. The old monument had been relegated into a tourist attraction but it still glowed in the dark. 

It’d been the one thing that seemed awake after passing a row of shops on your way here; most closed for the night, others for good. There were places in town that looked rundown, abandoned, similar to the ones in Tokyo. Black spots of a failing economy. 

Takeomi was the most informed about how the country was in deep shit under debt deflation. He asked Wakasa for spare change and the Sanrio-themed gachapon machine almost ate his 150 yen coins until he cranked it up again, coughing up a keychain souvenir. Benkei guessed it's for his sister. It's your second time napping, sitting next to him in the waiting shed with your head on his arm.

Shinichiro didn't wake you after catching sight of the bruise on your jaw, exposed by the dull lamplight, as if realizing how he could have missed that, among other things.

Benkei sighed. There's a heaviness hunkering down his shoulders. A part of him wondered if he told Shin now, could he convince you to change your mind?

“You uncomfortable there?” asked Shinichiro.

“Nah, I’m good.” Benkei replied, as your warmth curled on his side. Sleep made you clingy.

He wasn't the only one terrible at subtlety. Shinichiro perched on the space next to you when he couldn't steal you for himself this time. He’s got it all wrong, though.

Benkei didn't like sitting on what they would still lose.

The train station wouldn't be open until a few more hours.

Shinichiro’s cheap hair gel failed his pompadour, flattening his hair over his ears, as he leaned on his fist, dazed, with something unspeakably raw to him.

Deep down, he must know there's a future in his dream but humble as always, he’d deny this and nod off to you for having the superpower to carry and crush it. He had unshakeable faith in the way you wielded the future. It wouldn't change how he still saw you everyday. It's probably what gave you that ability in the first place. 

Benkei had this urge to wake you and tell you that you’d be okay, but suppressed it once Shinichiro spoke up, a note somber. 

“I don't want to go back yet.”

“Why?”

“This is a nice change of scenery,” which was bullshit because his boredom was painfully obvious. 

“Sure, the ocean again.”

“Okay, okay, I didn't think things out before wandering here,” he admitted, huffing an amused exhale under his breath. "But maybe I just wanted to escape and drag you all with me somewhere faraway.”

“You runnin' away from something?”

“Not really,” he murmured, stalling for another minute to brood over it. “We’ll get busier soon. It sucks. Does that count?”

“Things’ll just go back to normal,” Benkei said without withholding his sympathy. “The beach was fun, though.”

Shinichiro agreed, meandering on bringing his siblings along someday because he rarely spent his summer without them. He got away a lot more with you guys, gulping down cheap beer wherever, getting all this sand in his underwear. There was still other stuff you hadn't tried yet, if only you had more time.

“There's just this sinking feeling like something’s gonna catch up to me, don't know what it is, when, but—” his gaze landed at you, him, a flit of a smile on his lips, before staring at those endless waves, as if all of you had finally reached the end of the world. 

The sunrise bled through the horizon, and Shinichiro watched listlessly. "Whatever happens, I want to be here for awhile."

In the early hours of the morning, his bike swept past 80 km/h on the road; not a lot of cars and cyclists, busybodies.

The motions didn't stop until everyone had to pull over at a gas station nearby a remote industrial area in Ichihara. Factories still gave off strange smells no one could recognize, but Benkei had already revved up his engine to flee. It didn't matter anymore in another city.

The world woke up a bit after a mile while all of you were dragging yourselves through the travel tolls of yesterday. One moment it's a blame game, and then it snapped into a "screw this" and "this is stupid" next to a punched vending machine because you were incapable of deciding where to eat in a testy mood.

A common trait, despite having uniquely different, unbearable personalities. Aside from the energy drinks, Benkei's gut felt queasy from the mean, collective silence until you reached the last stretch of Tokyo Bay Aqua-Line. It's a miracle how everyone could stand each other, sometimes.

But you're still driving together to the path, the multiple crossings crowded by people from all walks of life, striving to make theirs a little fuller. The urban streets blurred after each turn. Somehow riding back to Tokyo almost didn't feel real. The day wasn't over yet but it felt as if he's missing something before it's gone.

Benkei didn't know how to explain it, eyes on you marveling at a wall graffiti of profanities from an unfinished construction site. Shinichiro was repeating what he was saying but it's left unheard, lost to the shrill of the track signal. The sun hung high and hot while all of you waited for the train behind the railway gate.

There's a faster route to Shibuya, but none of you took the expressway. The road back home was long and unwinding. 

a/n: title is inspired from the same namesake, referring to a whole generation of japanese youth who were gravely affected by japan's lost decade in the 1990s to early 2000s. first gen bd is in that group but ironically, they were at the top of the delinquent world at the time until their eventual disbandment.

[mllemaenad]

Wait, I'm confused - if the Institute succeeded in the goal of the original FEV trials by creating synths, why on earth are they still doing FEV experiments right up until Dr Virgil leaves?

I mean, you're not any more confused than the people doing the research. The terminal entries all contain complaints about how pointless this is. :)

But okay. What's actually going on there? Two things, I think.

First off: just because you've successfully completed a project doesn't mean it's done forever. They first rolled out power armour in 2067, but people keep making new kinds of power armour (I wish they'd stop. I hate power armour. But they do.). Research and development on synths is still ongoing – it's just handled by the Robotics department. They're likely still using FEV, but it's just one tool in their kit, rather than the focus of their work.

Nothing new. Always the same. Have entered formal complaint with Directorate; these tests are not bringing in any valuable information. The organics project was spun off decades ago. Why do we insist on continuing this? – Virgil's notes, Progress Reports, Fallout 4

So why are they doing anything with it? Well, I think the first clue comes from the entry from Virgil's predecessor, Syverson:

Latest round of testing complete. Results are all within expected parameters. Informed Dr. Zimmer directly, as he had ordered the tests personally. He seemed annoyed with the results; unsure what he was looking for. He declined to specify why he wanted the tests run to begin with. – Syverson's notes, Progress Reports, Fallout 4

We know Zimmer. He was the head of the Synth Retention Bureau. More importantly, he's a character from Fallout 3. Zimmer was part of the quest The Replicated Man, and was specifically in the Capital Wasteland hunting down an escaped courser: A3-21, now going by Harkness. And Harkness is apparently a unique prototype:

This particular android… Designation A3-21, is… different. Special. The most advanced synthetic humanoid I've ever developed. The others, like my escort Armitage there, are all older models. Easily replicated. Ah, but A3-21… it would take years to recreate him! So you see, this android MUST be located. At all costs. The others are all… acceptable losses. But A3-21, he is… irreplaceable. – Dr Zimmer's dialogue, Fallout 3

Zimmer ordered a round of FEV tests, apparently shortly before taking off to Rivet City to attempt to recapture Harkness. What were they for? Well, we can't know exactly, which is kind of the point. FEV research at the Institute has been thoroughly sidelined in favour of "the organics project" so these people are being treated as lackeys and very much left out of the loop. This is at minimum a Robotics project, and may even be some courser-specific SRB-only thing.

We can make some guesses, though.

One possibility is that they were being used as an early phase of testing. Synths in general are valuable: the Institute aims to recapture any gen-3 synth who escapes. A courser would be more valuable still. And Harkness is apparently unique.

We do know that the Institute uses synths for medical testing, but there have to be some rational degrees of risk. Kill a synth, and you will need to use resources to replace them. Kill a kidnapped wastelander and ... well, from the Institute's point of view that's no great loss. If this was a project aimed at improving their more expensive synths (the coursers) then there would be a strong argument for limiting their risk.

This could have been a strain of FEV modified to do something in particular, and they were dosing wastelanders with it first to see if it was lethal or not before they tried it out on a synth.

If this is the case, Zimmer clearly did not get the results he wanted out of the test.

Another possibility is that they were a control group. This was just a normal round of FEV testing, and it's meant to be contrasted with some other thing Zimmer is doing. Again, he clearly didn't get the results he wanted from the tests – but we can't know exactly what he was doing, beyond the fact that he seemed to be working to enhance courser ability and had created at least one prototype.

So, yes, I think that's part of it. The FEV department was being used as a secondary lab for the now more valuable Robotics department, but they largely had no idea what they're doing or where their work fit into the larger picture. This would, yes, be terribly unsatisfying work to be involved in.

But they clearly continued doing these tests even after Zimmer's disappearance, and we don't have strong evidence for SRB involvement once he was gone. So that's the second thing. Because, well, making super mutants was sort of an end in itself, wasn't it?

One of the Institute's major strategies is keeping the Commonwealth in a permanent state of disarray so they can't unite against them. The Sole Survivor eventually pulls at least one faction together enough to do just that – and unless you sell out to them, they go boom.

They use synths for specialist work: Gen-3s to go in and replace wastelanders in order to either spy or run experiments; Gen-1 and Gen-2s to harrass, or to retrieve specific tech, like at University Point. But if you don't have a specific mission in mind and just want to give everyone a very bad day ... well, super mutants are great for that. Low cost to the Institute, because they already have the FEV and kidnapping does not seem to be difficult for them. Maximum grief and chaos for the people on the surface.

And yes, this too would be deeply unsatisfying work. Even setting aside how morally abhorrent all of this, you're not even doing science anymore. You're just in manufacturing. Collect human; dip human; release super mutant. That's got to be an exercise in misery.

But that's exactly how this played out, didn't it? Virgil rebelled after failing to get the project shut down any normal way, and the whole thing was shuttered.

So I do think "confusion" is a reasonable response to the Institute's continued FEV research – but I do think they were doing something with it.

[arendaes]

43. Undone - for the micro-story prompts

Thank you! Yet more spoilers for Dance of Masks.

43. Undone (Gen, 386)

“Ah, girl, there you are! I believe you are the most qualified person to consult for the nature of my current experiment.”

Nenio had made herself at home at a table in the corner of the Defender’s Heart. Ariadne had to stop to get their bearings for a few reasons - one, it was unusual not to see Daeran and the Storyteller occupying this particular corner, their favored chairs stored away somewhere else for the evening, and two, the set up they were currently privy to would not have been out of place back home in their father’s laboratory.

“Girl? What happened to Ariadne?” She asked, deciding to leave the most obvious questions alone for a moment. Like what Nenio was doing with five different types of alcohol that close to an open flame.

“Yes, yes, Ariadne. Old habits die hard, I’m sorry.” Nenio’s voice was distant, though thankfully not in the way it had been when she’d been undone in Areshkagal’s realm. This was the distance of distraction, most of her focus riveted on the bottles in front of her. “Anyways, I have decided to rely on your expertise here.”

“Alchemy?”

“Booze.”

“Oh.” Ariadne tried not to let their disappointment show. They might not act like it, but they were a bit of a genius, after all! Instead, they followed up with, “Is this a repeat of the experiment where you got drunk?”

“Which one? Oh, no, not right now. Right now I am testing the theory that mixing certain types will increase the combustibility. Which two do you recommend?”

So it was alchemy after all! Visibly brightening, Ariadne surveyed her results. On one hand, there was a combination that was sure to leave an impression…but considering Gemyl already didn’t seem to like them, perhaps blowing up half his tavern wasn’t the way to go about getting into his good graces.

“Mix the elven absinthe with the firewater from the Five Kings Mountains.” Was it just them, or was there an indignant gasp from Daeran’s general direction?

Nenio nodded, mixing the two liquids together as assuredly as they’d just said that. A flame rose from the mixture, crackling cheerfully, embers dancing in a hypnotizing pattern.

“Hm…it is lacking the explosion I was hoping for,” Nenio said, then sighed, “But I have to admit it is pretty.”

[frnkiebby]

How has life been treating you? Have you been drinking water and getting plenty of rest?/gen

y’know, it’s funny you should ask.

i was gonna answer this earlier after i finished moving my desk at work closer to the wall so it’d fit better with filing cabinet, yeah?

welp.

i was under my desk pushing on one side of the desk via the leg and caught my thumb in one of those like rivet holes? felt a pinch and jerked my hand back. my thumb didn’t leave the hole right away. so with the jerk-back movement i ended up dislocating my thumb.

and ofc i panicked and shoved it back into place.

so yeah, that was my day. that pretty much sums up how life’s been treating me lmfao. i will say tho that i’ve been drinking enough water and doin my best to get good sleep!~🎃

[bethanythebogwitch]

Origins of legendary Pokemon: Gen III

I am doing a series of posts exploring the real-life inspirations for various Pokémon. Previously I have covered all fish Pokémon, all other aquatic Pokémon, and all starters. Currently I am working through all legendary and mythical Pokémon. It has been a few months since I last updated this series but I’m back now. Today I’m covering gen III. For previous posts see gen I and gen II.

Starting off with the legendary golems, I decided I’ll cover the gen III and gen XIII golems together. All of them are based on, well, golems. In Jewish folklore, a golem is a creature made of inanimate material that has been magically animated. The most famous story about golems, and the one that most modern depictions draw from is the golem of Prague. Dating back to the 16th century, the story goes that Rabbi Loew (a real person) built the golem out of clay and animated it by inserting a clay tablet inscribed with the name of God (a shem) into its mouth. The golem protected the Prague ghetto from pogroms. Every Friday, the Rabbi took the shem out of the golem’s mouth to deactivate it for the sabbath. Eventually the golem went on a violent rampage for reasons that vary depending on who tells the story. Sometimes the Rabbi forgot to take the shem out before the sabbath, other times the golem fell in love and was rejected. Either way, the rabbi eventually managed to pull the shem out, causing the golem to fall apart. The pieces were then stored in the attic of the synagogue, where it can be revived if ever needed again. The attic does exist, but is closed to the public. The idea that golems are animated through certain words either held in the mouth or inscribed on the forehead is common. In some stories (including some variants of the Prague story), the word used is “emét” (אמת) meaning “truth” and the golem can be deactivated by removing the final letter, changing the word to “mét” (מת) meaning “dead”. All of the regis are golems made from some mind of inanimate material: stone for Regirock, ice for Regice, metal for Registeel, electricity for Regieleki, and crystallized dragon energy for Regidrago. Like golems, they needed to be made by an already exiting being, in this case Regigigas. The unique sequence of dots on each regi represents the word carved on a golem’s head to bring it to life. Each regi also represents a historical time period. Regirock represents the stone age, Regice the ice age, Registeel the iron age, and Regieleki the moderm or electric age. Regidrago is harder to pin down since the only dragon age is a series of video games. It could represent the middle ages, with medieval Europe having plenty of dragon legends, or maybe a more general age of myths.

(Image: a statue of the golem of Prague, found in Prague. It is a brownish, mostly-featureless humanoid with several cracks on its body held together by rivets. End ID)

The eon duo are weird. They’re dragons with elements of birds and airplanes (the latter more visible in their mega evolutions). The biggest hint to what they’re supposed to represent might come from both being the eon Pokémon and explicitly brothers and sisters. Eon could just indicate they’ve been around for eons, but it also could come from aeon, a concept in Gnosticism. Gnosticism was a group of early Christian sects that were  very different from modern Christianity and are pretty much extinct now. In Gnostocism, aeons were divine beings that were emanations from the true God. You can think of the as the Gnostic version of angels except they’re more like less perfect derivations of God who can in turn make their own even less pure derivations and so on. It’s weird and complicated. In one of the most popular Gnostic sects, Valentinianism, aeons come in complementary male/female pairs called syzygies.

This is one of the simpler diagrams of how the aeons and syzygies are related to each other. Yeah. (Image: a diagram of the relations between aeons in Valentinianism, consisting of pairs of spheres connected with lines. Sourced from Histoire critique du Gnosticisme by Jacques Matter)

Latias and Latios being male and female counterparts could make them a syzygy of two (a)eons. They might also draw from the Chinese concept of yin and yang, opposing but complimentary forces. Yin is usually associated with femininity and passivity and fits Latias while yang is masculine and more passionate, fitting Latias. The pair’s ability to levitate and bird-like feathers may draw from the martlet, a legendary bird with no legs that spends its entire life flying. Martlets are often depicted with tufts in place of legs like the two tufts that the latis have. Finally, the name of the latis comes from the latin “lateō” which means “I conceal” or “I am hidden”, which fits both the two using illusions to stay hidden.

(Image: a heraldic depiction of a martlet, shown as the silhouette of a bird with two tufts where the legs should be. End ID)

The big names of gen III are of course the super-ancient weather trio of Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza. They each represent one of the “spheres” of Earth. Groudon represents the lithosphere, the outer layer of rock that makes up the planet’s crust. Kyogre represents the hydrosphere, all of the planet’s water in solid, liquid, and gas forms. Finally, Rayquaza represents the atmosphere, the gasses that are trapped on the planet by its gravity. As mythical beasts representing the land, sea, and sky, the trio draw from a trio of creatures in Jewish mythology that were passed down to Christianity and Islam. These creatures are behemoth, leviathan, and ziz, who were primordial beasts that dwelled in and represented land, sea, and sky. Of the three, behemoth and leviathan get most of the representation while ziz remains fairly obscure. This is likely because they are both described in the old testament/Tanakh’s Book of Job as part of what is essentially God spending several passages bragging about how powerful he is and saying therefore he can be as much of an asshole as he likes. Behemoth is a grass-eating swamp-dweller likely inspired by a hippo or elephant while leviathan is a scaly, armored carnivore that (once you strip away all the fantastical elements) was probably inspired by a crocodile. Ziz is usually depicted as a colossal bird or griffon. Behemoth and leviathan are often depicted as mortal enemies who will kill each other in a battle at the end of time, fitting with Groudon and Kyogre being enemies that nearly destroyed the world with their battle.

(Image: a depiction of behemoth, leviathan, and ziz. Behemoth is shown as a red bull. Leviathan is depicted as a brown fish. Ziz is situated above the other two and resembles a griffon with no front legs. End ID. Sourced from the Ambrosiana Bible)

The designs of the three Pokemon draw from animals or mythical creatures who live in their associated biome. The lines covering them may also draw from the Nazca lines of Peru, though only Kyogre has a direct counterpart in the lines with the whale geoglyph.

(Image: the whale Nacza line, seen from above. it is a geoglyph in the form of a whale, drawn in a line lighter than the surrounding desert. End ID)

Kyogre is based on an orca. It’s fitting that the Pokémon who created the ocean is based on the ocean’s most badass animal. Leviathan is usually depicted as a sea serpent nowadays, but it has historically been depicted as a fish or whale (and a lot of ancient cultures didn’t realize that whales aren’t fish). Groudon is based on outdated depictions of theropod dinosaurs that had them standing upright and dragging their tails on the ground like Godzilla. The spikes on its side and tail may come from dinosaurs like Ankylosaurus. It also visually resembles molten or superheated rock (moreso in its primal reversion), a reference to volcanoes and their role in raising islands out of the ocean. Rayquaza is based off of the serpentine, wingless eastern dragons while it having front legs but no hind legs comes from the European lindworm dragons (though lindworms being strictly serpentine dragons with only front legs is a more recent thing). Asian dragons often had power over weather, which Rayquaza has with its ability to negate all weather conditions. it being specifically a dragon that lives in the upper atmosphere and occasionally comes down to earth might come from the draconid meteor shower, which itself is named after the constellation Draco. Oh, and to keep the ancient Judaism origins going, Rayquaza’s name might come from the Hebrew word “rāqī́aʿ”which means “firmament”. The firmament is a giant crystal dome that covers the earth and makes up the sky, found in many different mythologies including ancient Judaism.

Moving over to the mythicals we have this generation’s Mew clone: Jirachi. It being associated with a certain comet and having the ability to grant wishes is a big shout-out to the idea of wishing on a star. Its head is shaped like a star and shooting stars (the ones you usually wish on) are actually meteors. Many meteors are composed of iron, likely why Jirachi is steel-type. Jirachi is also based on Tanabata, a Japanese festival based on mythology and astrology where two deities, represented by the stars Vega and Altair, are only allowed to meet once a year. During Tanabata, people will write wishes on pieces of paper called tanzaku and hang them on bamboo or trees. Three tanzaku are present on Jirachi’s head.

(image: a branch with a paper chain and multiple tanzaku on it. The Tanzaku are multicolored, rectangular strips of paper with Japanese writing on them. End ID)

The connection to Tanabata is more explicit in the anime, where the movie featuring Jirachi has a festival celebrating the return of the comet that awakens Jirachi every thousand years. Lots of comets have very elliptical orbits that only bring them to the inner solar system once every several decades or even centuries. While comets are usually depicted with one tail, they actually have two, generated by the sun’s heat and solar wind. One tail is formed from dust while the other is formed from gas. The two streamer or tail like things coming from Jirachi’s back probably represents the two tails of a comet.

(Image: Comet Hale-Bopp, showing the large, white dust tail and the smaller, blue gas tail. End ID)

Deoxys is the first mythical to be un-mythicaled when it showed up in ORAS as a normally-catchable mon in the postgame. Shame they didn’t keep that up. Anyway, Deoxys is an alien, specifically a virus that mutated while falling into Earth’s atmosphere. The idea of a virus or alien falling from the sky is common in science fiction. Think The Andromeda Strain (book and movie, not the shitty miniseries) or The Blob, or if you want a Japanese example, Space Amoeba. Deoxys is also heavily associated with DNA. Its name comes from the full name of DNA: deoxyribonucleic acid and its tentacles in normal form take the same double helix shape that DNA strands do. Its original 3 forms also come DNA: defense, normal, and attack. Speed form messed this up when it came out. I would have called it rapid form so at least it can reference RNA. The x-shaped silhouette of Deoxys also looks like a chromosome. Deoxys also draws from the idea of mutation, which is the result of changes in the structure of DNA. It is a mutated virus and it can mutate itself into specialized forms. The crystal in its chest (which in the movie continuity is the real Deoxys, with the body being an extension of the crystal) probably comes from the sci-fi trope of silicon-based alien life.  Silicon is the next element down from Carbon on the periodic table and also has 4 valence electrons, leading to speculation that alien life could use silicon as a basis instead of carbon. Silicon-based aliens are often depicted as living crystals.

(Image: a drawing of a cell, zoomed in to show a chromosome, zoomed in to show a DNA strand. The cell is a blue blob, the chromosomes are blue, globular, and shaped like the letter x. The DNA is two blue strands arranged in a double helix structure connected by small rods. End ID. Source).

[smilebackwards]

batman fic recs

This fandom is so talented and prolific!! Basically the only way I ever find stuff to read is via rec lists so here are some of my latest faves to share! Mostly Tim Drake focused.

Beef Consommé by Vamillepudding | Gen | 14k Jason and Dick aggressively adopt Tim because Bruce isn’t doing a good enough job. Peak brotherly chaos.

Face The Monsters That Are At Our Door by ebjameston @ebjameston | Gen | 5k Pacific Rim fusion where Tim decides he needs to be tested for drift compatibility with Bruce and makes that happen in the most insane way possible. I love him very much.

The Next Life by spqr @andthepeople | Gen | 15k Tim decides he needs to become a necromancer to raise Jason from the dead and bullies Constantine into training him. How could this possibly go wrong. Excellent excellent excellent.

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous | Gen | 13k Tiny Robin Tim Drake is alone in Las Vegas with amnesia and blood on his hands. The part where he calls Jason broke me in half.

The Ruination Of Responsibility by Moxibustion (RyuuzaKochou) | Gen | 89k Genderswapped Tim with all the competence and family emotional hurt/comfort I have ever wanted. I was up to an ungodly hour in the morning reading this. Take care.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus @vinelark | TimKon | 29k Superb TimKon where Kon rescues Tim without knowing Tim is Robin. Technically this is a WIP but I think the 2 current chapters can stand alone and if you slam the subscribe button like I did you get to look forward to 4 more chapters!

just me against the sky by magneticwave | JayTim | 48k Genderswapped Tim and Jason. Tim never becomes Robin and instead just like goes to college and if you don’t think that scenario could be absolutely riveting I think you’ll find that in this story it is.

Aspire to Touch the Sky by Betty | Bruce/Diana | 13k Arranged marriage with identity shenanigans! I only mildly ship this but the fic wholly convinced me. I remembered it almost in entirety and the last time I read it was like 10 years ago so yeah it made an Impression.

[darthbloodorange]

Their lives were sworn to the benevolent King Arno II. Their hearts were sworn to one another.

Under the cover of moonlight, they meet in the northern forest to be together until the sun rises. Trusting the trees to keep their secret.

For the: ✦ Stucky Bingo - AU: Medieval [O5] (Card: 5054)

Word count: N/a - Moodboard Title: Sworn Hearts Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers Warnings: None Major Tags: Medieval AU, Knight Steve Rogers, Knight Bucky Barnes, Secret Relationship, Forests ~ Summery: Their lives were sworn to the benevolent King Arno II. Their hearts were sworn to one another.

Under the cover of moonlight, they meet in the northern forest to be together until the sun rises. Trusting the trees to keep their secret.

[IMAGE ID: A 3x3 grid of images. 1- Bucky's face. His hair is long, and his jaw is heavily stubbled. 2- Riveted mail with slight staining. 3- Close-up of an armoured sculpture holding an ornate sword. 4- Five petaled purple flowers in the soft moonlight. 5- The trunk of a large tree with a section of bark removed. A love heart is carved into the bare trunk. 6- A forest floor carpeted in tall stems of tiny purple flowers. 7- Close-up of ornate armour. A simple sword held in front around hip height. 8- Shinny butted mail. 9- Steve's clean-shaven face. His mid-light hair swept back.]