#neon weaponry

[gummybearstastelikesadness]

I’ve seen a few of the ghosts regent ideas floating around, but pair that with adoptive dad Jason.

Jason adopts Danny but because he died, came back, and took a green soup dip Jason ends up accidentally adopting Danny in both the living realm and the GZ/IR. Danny being only 15 in human years and 1 in ghost years may be the current king, but he’s too young to be considered the formal ruler for events and realm rituals. So Jason has to take brakes from being the Red Hood every few weeks to basically put blob ghosts in a fancy circle and glare at unruly citizens.

Jason takes care of Danny and keeps the Bats from crowding and stressing him out. He also lets Danny help with vigilante stuff by working on evacuation plans, non lethal weaponry, medical training, and other things that won’t put him in danger or directly in the field.

Eventually the Red Hood gets captured by cultists along with a few of the other bats, all of them are tied to poles and fighting to escape their bindings. Then Jason hears what they’re supposedly going to summon, “The tyrant of the dead! The King of the Infinite Realm!” Jason stops fighting against his bindings and has to try not to choke or die again from laughing too hard while telling them they were about to do the stupidest thing they ever had.

The cultists say he “won’t be laughing for much longer” and to “shut up” and begin to summon the King. The entire area starts glowing green and the temperature drops, everyone can see their breath, the lights are flickering, and citrus scented neon green smoke begins spreading and forming a humanoid shape. At the same time the Red Hood vanishes, his bindings falling to the floor.

The cultists excitingly finish the ritual and while the figure is still cloaked in smoke tell it they prepared sacrifices for it. The smoke fades and standing fully armed ready to fight is the Red Hood. He tells the cultists to Run and that he told them they were going to regret this.

After Jason beats the cultists and the Bats get free they ask him how he did it. Jason responds by saying the King didn’t sign the Summoning permission slip so he can’t be summoned. This just leaves them more confused.

Jason heads back home to tell Danny what happened and that he should change the King’s summoning requirements.

#danny phantom #dp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #jason todd #Just domestic ghost king stuff and domestic crime lord things. #Jason looks at Danny’s hair and eye colour. am I becoming Bruce? no. I’m better. #Jason after also adopting Dani: I’m what Bruce wishes he could be. my children actually talk to and like me #Danny and Jason bond over their mutual hatred of clowns. when Danny finds out the Joker murdered Jason he’s all like you can get revenge #ghosts can get revenge on those that killed them. you came back so you can do more than just haunt him. #and if the Joker dies when I’m still a child you get total custody of him in the afterlife. Jason… It’s time to hunt a clown.

[arthenaa]

Hey bro I like your writing and I was wondering if you could give us some Mizu x Filipino!Reader hcs🥺👉👈 ̶(̶t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶g̶o̶n̶n̶a̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶j̶e̶c̶t̶ ̶m̶y̶s̶e̶l̶f̶)̶

I have to make this poetic I'm so sorry but also making it modern!au and canon setting teehee (ALSO DOUBLE UPDATE?) slight nsfw ig!! mdni.

canon divergent, just think of this is as that scene from Goyo where Remedios and Gregorio Pilar do a wholeass pining scene idk

Absolutely met you at some fancy ass noble party

You're a child of a wealthy Senor who's in great partnership with the Lords from the Commonwealth

Mizu's camping in and disguising herself in the party to find more intel on her next target and then she bumps into you

at first you're like very inquisitive of where she came from (considering that you view her as a man at this point), how she enjoys the party and what not

then you're suddenly like ik what you're doing. you're not from here.

Mizu's thrown off bc haha this is an international gathering of sorts and like ppl here are mostly foreign

you're like well its bc you're so obvious when it comes to occasions like this that I've already spotted you from a while back

and so youre like dancing and all and Mizu has no choice but to extract info from you

she reveals that shes looking for a white man, and that he may have connections here in the ph

and coincidence cuz you, who's also a part of the resistance, have been tracing the weapons provider of the spanish army.

so you guys work together. you give her intel, she helps you hunt down the provider and their little goons

it kind of starts like an enemies to lovers .... kind of a forced situation where Mizu has to deal with the resistance in order to get to what she wants but rlly theres no other way around

falls in love w your love for your country

despite your privileged upbringing, you're deeply interconnected with your roots, and have been fighting for the filipino people

you guys fight over the simplest of things, like how she doesnt wear things right or holds weapons correctly

you definitely bond over weaponry though and its history. the first time you've seen her katana, you were so amazed. in return, you showed her a kampilan—a sword carved and forged by your grandfather. she had so many questions.

yeahh overall i think what pulled you together was your shared anger and desperation for justice. No matter the situation, whether it be a resistance against oppression or looking for the man that caused a hellscape within your life, y'all resonated with the emotions and trauma that came with that.

BEST BELIEVE THE SEX WAS GOOD and rough and yes hbejawhejehe mhm

anys thats all. you're like PARA SA PILIPINAS and shes on her knees.

modern au hehe

met through int sch program. mizu is a transferee from japan who joined their uni's international program and got linked w ur sch

she was in one of ur classes and like yeah, she was nearest to u so she had no choice but to ask u for sch stuff

YOU THOUGHT SHE WAS PRETTY CUTE but like u wanted a good impression so u tried to help her as much as u could

even gave her a tour of the campus

showed her a few iconic eating places that she could go to jic her budget was on a limit or wanted good filo food

you wanted to expose her to the culture as slowly as u could just so that she could adapt and pace herself

definitely stuck by your side since then

you learned that she's going to study here for 3 years before going back to japan for her masters, and you're like wow thats so cool and shes like thanks

definitely a gamer

you guys hang out at one of the comp shops nearby (IF NAGAARAL KAYO SA TAFT .... guys suki ako don HAHAHA)

loves learning abt history, esp filipino craftsmanship

you definitely treat her to various street foods

mizu : what's this

you : we call it kwek kwek, but u can call it neon balls

mizu: neon balls????

showed and taught her how public transpo works once, and she gets a hang of it a week later

knows her way around manila than you do (author is projecting mb)

knows basic filo words when navigating. you teach her the slang.

basically friends to lovers guys omg, ayon sana all eme

you do that lips thing where you point w ur lips and at first, she was so confused (this is during your relationship)

she thought you were asking for a kiss and she kissed u and you were like ?!@!?@??$?

mizu: ha

you: I WAS ASKING FOR THE,ASd MUGWTF

mizu: ahhh my bad haha

walks u to class teehee

hangs around in empty class rooms esp comp labs and you guys watch movies there

momol sa dorm, momol sa clasroom na madilim, momol sa may agno charot

MOMOL = MAKE OUT MAKE OUT LANG

revels in simple pda like linking ur pinkies together, thigh against thigh when seating, and just yk so landi. landi niyo.

you have her id pic on the back of ur id and she yours on her clear phonecase

EWWWW GAY PPL (affectionate)

unintentionally matching

loves gifting u jewelry esp necklaces (likes to see it when u guys are in the bedroom, splayed on your chest and just yk decorating your collarbones so nicely)

holds your hand and helps you cross the street omf

pays for ur commute fee when riding the jeepney

memorizes ur kwek kwek and fishball sauce combination

loves exchanging one shoe w u for funsies

loves taking pics w u w the cats on campus

OVERALL A CUTIE TEEHEE!

A/N: DEDICATED KAY DELULU RECEIVER!! eto para sayo sorry ginutom keta ng sobra huhu @ianiralvs may isa pa kong utang sayo na req mo hihi gagawen ko pa yon to muna HHAHHAHA

#arthenaa #the blue eyed samurai #mizu x reader #the blue eyed samurai x reader #mizu fluff

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Going along with the Nikke train, because clearly ass. And because I like Exia.

Anyway, may I request Neon with an S/O who is just as trigger-happy as her? Two overly excitable people with weaponry makes me feel happy.

(Bonus points for S/O bringing a smol gun but it is almost the strongest thing in existence.)

(GoV: NIKKE) Neon's S/O being gun-crazed like her

Sounds like you need a Noisy Cricket. ...Does anyone even know what I'm referencing, or am I showing my age again?

Finally, Neon had someone who saw the light of overwhelming firepower!

It's no wonder to Counters why Neon fell in love with S/O, the moment they brought their own small armory, she had heart eyes upon first sight.

Much of Neon and S/O's free time consisted of going to the Firing Range to test out what kind of weapons and ammo could create the most devastating boom!

(Neon) "HAHAHAAAAA! YES! LOOK AT THE BULLETS TEAR THROUGH THE TARGET!"

(S/O) "RECOIL INJURIES, WHAT RECOIL INJURIES?! HAHA-"

Everyone watched in mild amusement and horror at S/O's arm getting brutally beaten as they tested out Neon's gun since she wanted to share her love for stronger guns.

Forgetting that S/O was human, and couldn't tank the recoil like a Nikke could.

(Anis) "...Commander, why did you think we needed to add a second Neon to the team?"

(Commander) sigh "Don't ask me, ask HQ..."

But what had piqued Neon's interest above all was S/O's weapon of choice for operations.

When the squad went to the surface, all of Counters carried their rifles, and even the Commander had a pistol for desperate measures.

Meanwhile, S/O had something even smaller than a pistol. It looked like a child's toy.

The squad paused as Neon made a noise that caught their attention, the other three watching their conversation from a distance.

Neon eyed S/O's "gun", one eye peering closely at it, making her scoff.

(Neon) "What the heck is that thing!? It looks so puny!"

(Anis) "That's what she sai-"

(Commander) "Anis, please."

(S/O) "What? It's my weapon!"

(Neon) "Weapon?! That can't even be called a pistol, your finger barely fits in!"

(Anis) "PFFFT-"

(Rapi) "Anis."

(Neon) "Come on, you're a believer of firepower like I am! What's that gun going to do, make laser noises until our enemies die of embarrassment?!"

(S/O) "It's not the size that matters, Neon!-"

(Anis) "OW! OH COME ON, THEY'RE MAKING IT TOO EASY-!"

(Neon) "It absolutely does! What caliber does that gun even fit, nerf darts?!"

(S/O) "...What's a nerf dart?"

(Neon) "Not sure, think it's some kind of old earth toy, but my point still stands!"

(S/O) "When we fight something, you'll see how valuable it is!"

(Neon) "Fine, prove me wrong!"

When combat finally broke out, S/O was the first one to take a shot.

With a single pull of their trigger, they were sent flying back as the shot vaporized an entire enemy patrol in a massive explosion.

(Neon) "WHA...HOW?! YOU NEED TO LET ME USE THAT!"

S/O poked their head out of the rubble, seemingly unharmed.

(S/O) "No way, you were mocking it earlier!"

(Rapi) "Sir, that more than likely alerted everything to our presence. We need to move-"

(Neon) "With a gun like that, we can take care of everything out here! Master, please give me authorization to-'

(Commander) "No. And S/O, you don't pull your weapon out until things get hairy, understood?"

The couple looked extremely disappointed.

(S/O & Neon) "Aaaawwww!"

(Anis) "I mean, they kinda have a point, Commander. That gun might as well be the world's smallest artillery cannon."

(Commander) "...Just how do you reload that thing?"

(S/O) "Honestly? I never needed to. It doesn't really run out, and I've been using this thing for a while-"

(Neon) "WHAT?! OH NOW YOU HAVE TO LET ME USE IT!"

#goddess of victory: nikke headcanons #goddess of victory: nikke x reader #goddess of victory: nikke imagines #neon nikke x reader #neon nikke #anis nikke #rapi nikke

[spectoris]

CAPTURED DANCES | DIN DJARIN

pairing: the mandalorian/din djarin x gn!reader

contains: fluff, gets moody but not angsty

word count: 1.7k

Trying to get Din to dance was like trying to get mountains to move. Each time you tugged on his gloved hand towards the dance floor, he reminded you of your purpose in these flashy, boisterous cities—work. It was always work. Some task you had to finish, an item needing to be grabbed; he rarely let himself loose outside of the Razor Crest, and even then he kept to himself, tending to the child or sleeping while you manned the ship. He couldn’t even enjoy these pleasantries if he wanted to; the helmet was to blame.

Tonight was no different. The seasoned bounty hunter had no trouble drowning out the chatter in his ear, denying drinks and services coming his way. He let you roam around until he was done, promptly exiting when the meeting was over. Part of touring the galaxy with the Mandalorian was missing out on the things you enjoyed in your youth. Drinking, dancing, acquainting yourself with people you’d never meet again. Din said nothing of your sacrifice, saying it was a small price to pay for the things you both had in store. Yet he couldn’t get over how sad you looked back in the Razor Crest, the neon lights still visible across the horizon from the cockpit. 

You picked at the dirt beneath your fingernails and occasionally tossed the silver ball to the child who babbled and tugged at your sleeve. Behind his helmet, Din’s face was something of annoyance and mild panic. He had never dealt with these types of emotions before; growing up, things were routine and clinical, down to the way you conducted yourself. His days as a bounty hunter did nothing to help him expand his emotional experience until the child came along.

Din rid himself of his cape and his weaponry, lightening the load. His boots clunked against the metal floor of the ship, slowly approaching the cockpit where you sat in the pilot’s seat, gazing out into the night. Din stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips and cleared his throat. The pilot’s chair spun around to reveal your miffed expression which you quickly covered with an empty stare.

“Yes?” you said quietly. Grogu continued to babble in the copilot’s seat, swimming in his loose tunic. He looked up with large, curious eyes, holding the ball out to Din.

“Do you…want to dance?”

Your brows furrowed and raised skeptically. “Like, in the bars?”

“No,” Din said slowly. “Just…in here. The ship.”

He didn’t miss the slight glimmer in your eye as you rose from your seat, scooping Grogu into your arms before setting him down on a crate. You still weren’t one-hundred percent sure of Din’s idea of dancing; there was no music, no crowd, no energetic ambience. The metal of the ship amplified each step and shuffle, making the interaction even more awkward than it already was to begin with (and heightening Din’s embarrassment).

“What kind of dance were you thinking?” you asked, offering your hand to him. Through his helmet, he stared for a while before the leather slid onto your bare skin. His fingers twitched against your palm before you grasped them gently, but confidently.

Din’s voice grew quiet. “Anything.” 

Through the darkness of his helmet, his eyes bore emptily into yours, transfixed on the smile creeping across your face. If he didn’t have it on, he might’ve felt the soft puffs of your breath on his face or your knuckles on his cheek when you accidentally knock them against the beskar and sucked in a pained breath.

“Now I know why they’re no match for blasters,” you teased. 

Your other hand rested on his shoulder, his reaching tentatively for your hip. Din was never one to be afraid when someone stepped close, always holding his ground, but he suddenly felt it grow increasingly warm beneath his armor when you were inches away. Even though you couldn’t see his face, he still flushed and did his best to remain composed.

You took a small step back and squeezed Din’s shoulder for him to follow. He mimicked every move thereafter—each turn, shuffle, and even the smile on your face (shame he couldn’t show his). The first few moments were rough. His heavy boots had come down on yours a few times, followed by whispered apologies, but you laughed it off. There was a moment where you encouraged Din to spin you, and it would’ve worked if he hadn’t stepped on the laces of your boots, tripping you. 

Grogu had fallen asleep. Curled in his tunic, you paused to gaze in awe at his little face. Your hand slipped from Din’s shoulder to his chest while his remain loosely on your hip. In that brief moment, Din glanced at you and swallowed thickly. Perhaps you had simply zoned out, but the way you held him felt oddly familiar—the exact picture of his parents who also once stood like this, looking at Din with adoration in their eyes. 

His cough broke the silence, and you quickly snapped back, jolting when you realized your hand had wandered to his chest.

“Do you want to continue?” he asked. 

“Do you?”

The double suns of Tatooine could not make his face this hot. He gulped—Din Djarin didn’t gulp, especially not in…nervousness? Yet under the burning gaze of your round innocent eyes, the prospect of melting through the floor was welcoming.

Din hadn’t realized how long his silence had stretched until your smile faltered. Polite, almost clinical it became, the same smile you gave to a stranger. You started to slip away, but Din’s grasp held you firm.

“Oh,” you muttered with a tinge of shock.

“Yes,” Din said almost mechanically. “I want to keep going.”

He kept his hand steady on your lower back, stiff at first for support. You continued to lead the dance despite how elementary it was. Step, sway, step, sway. Eventually Din found himself taking bigger steps to your surprise. What took your breath away, however, was when he kept himself an arm’s length away and gently twisted your hand. Taking the hint, you did a successful spin without getting your laces stepped on again.

Din was glad the helmet kept his face covered because—well, he wouldn’t know what to say if you saw his elated smile. Not as bright as yours but still more than he thought was possible. Although it was quiet, Din couldn’t have wished for anything more. 

Soon your activities got the best of you. The pair of you stood in the center of your makeshift dancefloor, taking in light breaths and wiping away the first bit of sweat from your skin. Your body moved away from Din. He had to hold himself back from reaching out.

Brushing your sweaty palms across your pants, you looked at Din with a twinkle in your eye. In these moments, with only silence between you, you wished you could peer into that pesky mind of his. 

“Not bad for a beginner,” you laughed. “Maybe next time you’ll finally let loose on our missions.”

Your raised your fist and gave Din’s helmet a few playful knocks. Din’s hand pressed your palm flat against the cold beskar. Your eyes widened for a moment as he moved it to where his cheek would be.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

You stared blankly at him, the words not yet seeping in.

“Close your eyes,” Din repeated. Then, “...please.”

“This isn’t some backstabbing ploy, right?” Your words came out drier than you intended. Sensing Din’s waiting, you obliged.

“Don’t peek. Not one bit, or else I might actually have to backstab you.” There was a slight tremor in the humility of his tone—uncertain and afraid.

With your vision filled with black, your ears tuned in to the sounds around you. The soft shuffle of leather, quiet clanks of boots on metal, and your breathing. Din nudged your hand away from his helmet. You let it fall back to your side and squeezed it in an anxious fist. More shuffling, then he took your hand again.

When Din guided it back to his face, you gasped. Skin. Warm, lined with stubble, and human. You wanted to laugh, make a joke about how you swore Din was a droid all this time. But nothing came from your dry throat. Your fingers traced the edges of his face, feeling the ridges of his nose, brows, and chin. In front of you, blocked only by your eyelids, was Din Djarin bared.

He knew, and you knew, this was not right. Though you hadn’t actually seen anything, the notion of feeling him somehow felt more sacrilege than anything else. Still, a warmth bloomed through you. Din was real.

He lowered your hand to his chest, letting it fall over his heart.

“Open your eyes.”

You squinted against the bright lights of the ship as your eyes readjusted. Back in front of you was Din—well, he was always there—the one you were most familiar with. Faceless. Yet in the few seconds you were able to reach underneath the mask, you felt the most connected. 

You stared at Din, biting the inside of your cheek and pondering. He tilted his head to the side.

“It’s…late. We should head—”

Your hands gripped both sides of his helmet, fingertips pressed into tough metal. You half stepped towards him, half pulled him in until your lips haphazardly smashed into the beskar and knocked your teeth. You winced, but you kept your mouth planted firm. In hindsight, it was idiotic and comparable to kissing a wall. In the moment, it was all you wanted and more.

Din’s hand came to rest in the curve of your back as you pulled away. Wide-eyed and stunned, every thought ceased to exist in your mind. You could only focus on the mark of your lips on his precious helmet. When you went to wipe it away, Din gently grabbed your wrist. 

“You’re a good dance teacher,” he uttered in a breath. His grip on you hadn’t loosened.

You cracked a grin. “If you wake up early tomorrow, we can squeeze in another lesson.”

Somehow, you detected a smile.

#din djarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic

[incorrectbatfam]

What do the Goofy Gooners look like .. asking for a friend …

Rob is a tired dad with an inferiority complex. He doesn't put much effort into his appearance because basic hygiene already saps a lot of his energy. He has reddish-brown hair that he keeps short for convenience and doesn't shave as often as he should, so there's always a thin layer of stubble. I picture him to be around 33 but stress makes him look older. He usually wears the same basic t-shirts and cargo pants—a polo would be fancy for him. He's on the underweight side because he frequently skips meals so his kids and Milo have enough. He also has random tattoos scattered over his arms plus one on his leg and neck. They don't mean anything, just dumb stuff he got when he was younger, including a winking emoticon and the Pillsbury doughboy.

Blaise is 26 and you can tell he's a stoner from the get-go. He has dirty blonde hair that he grows out but hardly maintains, and the same level of effort goes for his clothes. He often wears things he finds in dumpsters or thrift stores and chooses comfort over style. His clothes have lots of hidden pockets for lighters, firecrackers, and weapons. He's tall and lanky, which makes living out of Milo's car in the parking lot awkward (Rob offered his apartment but he declined). Similar to Rob, Blaise also has a number of meaningless tattoos plus several piercings. He also plays the guitar and keeps his lucky pick on a necklace.

Kellin is a 20-year-old originally hailing from Thailand. Their assassin parents trained them in gymnastics, martial arts, and various weaponry from a young age in hopes that Kellin would follow in the family's footsteps and join the League of Assassins. That obviously didn't work out and they traveled around as an independent hitman (hitperson?) for a couple years before they landed in Gotham. They're always battle-ready—if they could shower in their assassin uniform they would. They changed their name and keep their hair just long enough to mask their face. They're fluent in English, Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, and Arabic, but they prefer to let their actions speak for them instead.

Molly is a 25-year-old trans woman who incorporates her jobs as a drug dealer, team strategist, and nightclub DJ in a single look. She has long dark hair dyed with neon streaks but ties it up when fighting. She's not the most formidable combatant but she has basic fighting skills and is very calculative. Her primary weapon is a metal baseball bat, inspired by her favorite anti-hero, Harley Quinn. She also has a belt equipped with her experimental chemicals and smoke pellets. However, she's not allowed to pair up with Blaise on missions because it's an open secret that the two of them can't focus around each other.

Otto is a war veteran and car mechanic around the same age as Alfred, but that's where the similarities end. He's been wearing the same mechanic's uniform for the past four decades, the only differences between then and now being his hair thinning, a couple front teeth falling out, and acquiring a beer gut. His arms are covered in scabs and scars from the job and he's had trouble with his right knee ever since the army. On the surface he seems like a Boomer yelling at kids to get off his lawn, but he's more like a stern but well-intentioned grandpa who is disappointed to see nothing much has changed over the years.

Milo is your standard 15-year-old delinquent. He's slightly small for his age and doesn't pack that big of a punch on his own, but put him behind the wheel and he's a total menace. When he's not driving, he keeps himself stimulated with video games or his collection of keychains (his favorite is purple bat because of his puppy crush on Spoiler). His look is reminiscent of early 2000s skater punks, including a bright red mohawk and his trusty headphones. Everything he owns, minus his car, fits into a single backpack. His weapon, on the rare occasion Rob lets him on the front line, is a batarang he found on the street.

Gene is someone you would never expect to have so many issues because on the outside he looks like an average 40-year-old glasses-wearing office worker. He has short sandy hair and dark circles under his eyes from nightmares. His meds help a lot, but sometimes he's still seen pacing around and muttering to himself. He's not a danger anymore compared to the past, which is why Rob trusts him enough to share an apartment. Gene focuses his nervous energy into his research and tinkering instead, amassing a comedic collection of hyperspecific gadgets.

Mac is basically the guy in the chair. He's 30 and has thick glasses, thick curly brown hair, a thin goatee, and almost exclusively wears flannel. His nails are down to a nub because he bites them when concentrating. He's also often seen with chips or an energy drink in his hands and wears a jailbroken smart watch. Of the team, he has the least physical prowess but the most brain power. He doesn't see combat often but keeps a pistol in case. He turned an old ice cream truck into his home/mobile office so he can plug in anywhere. Like Kellin, he's also not from Gotham, but instead Fawcett City and has a distinct Minnesota accent.

Booker is a 19-year-old Gotham U student and the third member of the team's Glasses Trio. He's an intelligent guy slated to graduate a year early and thus needs his internship credits sooner. He's very polite (albeit a little socially awkward) and puts his best foot forward by coming into work with slacks and fun patterned suspenders even though he doesn't have to. His hair has a slightly uneven fade because his sister insisted on practicing on him for cosmetology school, so he covers it with a fedora. He carries his things in a laptop bag and has an enthusiastic bounce in his step that only newbies would have.

Jackie and Gunner are Rob's 6-year-old twins (Jackie being 8 minutes older) and are the babies of this hodgepodge family. Jackie takes after her late mother with frizzy black hair usually tied in pigtails. She loves wearing pink, reads way above her level, and is a horse girl in that she wants one to stomp on the people she doesn't like. Gunner looks more like his dad, though his hair is a little messier and overgrown. He hates school but loves dirt and monster trucks. Both of them have a troublesome streak but Jackie's a little better at hiding it. They quarrel like siblings do but at the end of the day, they always stick up for each other.

#see previous posts #original character #batman #batfamily #batfam #batman family #dc villains #gotham rogues #dc comics #character idea #character design #headcanon #long post #tw violence mention

[theresattrpgforthat]

my girlfriend really wants a game that is "crunchy" about how you build a whole character, ie. having "mechanics" for the fantasy of said characters. an example would be spheres for pathfinder or 5e. we're just looking for other ideas! we both love pbta and we both love 5e, but sometimes you want to chew on the system a little.

THEME: Mechanically Dense Characters

Alright, so let’s see what I can recommend that I haven’t recommended a lot yet. I’m going to try and approach this with a few different genres, as well as a few different systems. There will also be links to related rec posts at the end!

Into the Black, by Monkey’s Paw Games.

INTO THE BLACK is a sci-fi roleplaying game where one or more players take on the role of Management and presents a futuristic universe of corporate oppression and class warfare, while others take on the role of Freelancers and create characters to struggle and survive in that universe. Players must navigate and explore a strange and wondrous galaxy while deeply indebted to an interstellar corporation. Life among the stars, then, is about treading the razor's edge of struggling for survival and finding joy and love where one can.

Into the Black is built on the Into the Odd rules system, created by Chris McDowell. This places it into the OSR family of games. Now, OSR games are typically pretty lethal at low levels, and Into the Black is no different, but I know that 5E has the same kind of problem, to the point that many people will skip first level altogether.

In Into the Black, your character starts with an occupation, a background, randomly rolled abilities, and some gear. Once you advance to your first level, you take one of two classes, and customize from there. Technicians learn new occupations while Specialists take on new Kinesis Abilities, which are paranormal abilities that fit the space setting. You’ll chew through characters pretty quickly here, but I think that finding a character that does survive past the first few levels might be akin to a Nuzlocke run in a Pokemon game - you care a lot about the person who survives past a certain point, and your investment will help you generate this character’s thoughts, feelings and reactions in the game.

Gubat Banwa, by Makapatag.

GUBAT BANWA is a Martial Arts Tactics and War Drama Tabletop RPG where you play as martial artists poised to change the world: Kadungganan: the cavalry, the wandering swordsmen, the tide turners, the knights-errant, the ones to call in darkest night in a world inspired and centering Southeast Asian folklore.

Witness, grand warriors, honorable gallants that trudge and toil under kings and haloes. Witness, KADUNGGANAN, that refulgent name. That blasted name: WITNESS NOW. The end of days is upon us: and the new world MUST BE BORN. Bear your blades, incant your magicks. Cut open your tomorrow from the womb of violence. Inscribe your name upon the very akasha of this world. 

There are plenty of mechanics to immerse yourself in when it comes to the Kadungganan of Gubat Banwa. You have a homeland, a social class, defining life events, a profession, a religion, and a specialization. These choices give you pieces of your backstory, but they also give you skills. You’ll also choose a Discipline, a martial art that your character is currently practising, which defines your character’s philosophy and the way they carry themself into battle. Various cultures have collections of different disciplines, with each flavour receiving special abilities, as well as thematic advice on how they present themselves in battle. If you like games that give you extremely cool abilities and badass weaponry, and tie everything in your character to integral pieces of the setting, then Gubat Banwa is for you.

Neon Nights, by EfanGamez.

In Jeriko City, everybody wants to be somebody. Who do you wanna be?

Neon Nights is a cyberpunk/dystopian tabletop RPG set on Earth after a nuclear war devastated the entire planet. After hundreds of years of thousands of people roaming the desolate, irradiated Great Wastes, megacities emerged from the dust of deserts. Where there was once crumbling roads and dancing dust devils now stand skyscrapers towering over hundreds of thousands of roaming pedestrians walking the streets of Jeriko City, located on the East Coast of the once powerful United States of America.

Neon Nights uses a point-buy system to increase parts of your character sheet as you like, which gives you a lot of flexibility when cobbling together a concept. You use points to increase traits, which seem to affect your rolls, perks, which are special abilities used in specific situations, and World Stats, which determine how your character is seen by the rest of the world. How famous are you? How feared? How much respect are you granted? At character creation this may be a guide for the GM as to how your character is received by different elements of society. And these arenas will change depending on what you do in the game. You’ll also choose Occupations which give you pre-determined modifiers and skills that make your character unique. Finally, there’s your gear! Biotech, consumables, and weapons all give your character tools to use in whatever situations you find yourselves in.

Mutants in the Now, by Julian Kay.

In the ‘80s and ‘90s, they ruled the streets, kick-flipping off of villainous faces and slipping into the shadows. Then, they vanished from the world of tabletop gaming.

But they’re back. And ready to KICK BUTT.

Mutants in the Now is a retromodern retake on the mutant animal role-playing games long past and left behind by licensing. Mutants fight to survive, thrive, and make the world better for themselves and humanity.

If you want unlimited options, Mutants in the Now has options. Over 130 animal species and over 200 mutation traits are in the basic book, along with fourteen combat styles, psionic powers, and detailed rules about combat, allies, villains, and more. You can roll randomly for your animal, and spend points to improve them via mutations, combat styles etc.

There’s a lot of pieces that you can look at and then generate a backstory based off of the character you’ve created, and the setting is high action, Saturday-morning-cartoon in theme, but the details are up to your play group. If you like limitless possibilities for character creation, you should check out Mutants in the Now (and it’s expansion, Mutants in the Next!)

Other Posts To Check Out

All The Dice

Branching Out From D&D

Character Customization

Echoes of D&D

Tactical Combat

Rules-Lite Systems with Classes

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #character creation

[demifiendrsa]

Metaphor: ReFantazio — The Royal Tournament

Japanese version

Official website footage

Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, PlayStation 4, and PC (Microsoft Store, Steam) in Fall 2024.

Key visual

Latest details

■ Story

This is a story of how people must find unity to elect a new king.

Our story takes place in The United Kingdom of Euchronia, where the assassination of the king brings chaos and unrest to the land.

Then, one fateful day, a magic known only to the king called the Royal Magic is invoked, and the world becomes embroiled in a royal tournament for the throne.

In the midst of this, the protagonist, together with his partner, the fairy Galica, must find a way to break the curse that has been placed on the prince that the kingdom believes to be dead. To do so, they depart on a journey across the vast land.

They will discover that in order to achieve their goal, they must participate in the tournament for the throne, and this great task shall require them to ally with many friends and followers of the various tribes inhabiting the world.

■ Characters

Protagonist (voiced by Natsuki Hanae)

Together with the fairy, Galica, he embarks on a journey to lift the deadly curse placed on his childhood friend, the prince of Euchronia.

He is a boy of the elda tribe, branded as a “tainted” people by the state religion who believe they have inherited dangerous and heretical magic. Being so rare among the populous, they are detested and discriminated against throughout the kingdom.

Gallica (voiced by Sumire Morohoshi)

Not only a traveling companion, Gallica is the guide who helps the protagonist carry out his mission to save the prince. Although she is too small to participate in battles, her knowledge of magic and ability to sense magla is superior to the protagonist due to her fairy nature. She doesn’t mince words, but she is a reassuring ally on his journey.

Strohl (voiced by Kensho Ono)

He is a young man of the clemar tribe who meets the protagonist in the recruitment centre for the State Army. A smart young man with a strong sense of justice, he hails from a noble family. And yet, it seems his circumstances are complicated, as it is rare for a noble to enlist in the army alongside commoners.

Hulkenberg (voiced by Saori Hayami)

A knight of the roussainte tribe and former member of the royal family’s Kingsguard who served by the prince’s side. Despite her young age, she excelled in the use of various weaponry, and was assigned to the personal guard of the prince. But when the prince was attacked, she failed to protect him and set out to wander, carrying the stigma of this failure in her heart.

Heismay (voiced by Akio Ootsuka)

A former knight of the eugief tribe. He has acute perception compared to most others, due in part to the eugief trait of being sensitive to sound.

With an appearance that differs greatly from other tribes, it’s not uncommon for eugiefs to be discriminated against—and it seems Heismay is no exception, his past his own burden to bear.

■ Followers

Meet and bond with your followers.

■ Game Mechanics

Unique battles that combine action and turn-based commands. Party customization offering a high degree of freedom and strategy. An evolution of the realistic day-by-day journey of the Persona series.

■ Staff

Director – Katsura Hashino (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Character Designer – Shigenori Soejima (Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Composer – Shoji Meguro (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Concept Artist – Koda Kazuma (Notable Work: NieR:Automata)

Mechanical Designer – Ikuto Yamashita (Notable Work: Neon Genesis Evangelion)

■ Art and Sound

Journey through a vast and magnificent fantasy world. Explore the game alongside an intuitive and beautiful user interface that elevates the experience. Lend your ear to masterfully crafted music utilizing captivating unique chants.

■ New Screenshots

#Metaphor ReFantazio #Metaphor #ReFantazio #PROJECT Re FANTASY #Studio Zero #Atlus #video game #PS5 #Xbox Series #Xbox Series X #Xbox Series S #PS4 #PC #Steam #Microsoft Store #The Game Awards #TGA 2023 #long post #Youtube

[zemothethirteenth]

Mistimed & Misplaced || @ofsokovianbaronesses

Helmut didn't remember falling asleep, but waking up was a nightmare.

It took him almost ten minutes to figure out where he was - though, it had been almost five years since he'd last been to Madripoor, so it was the mix of languages more than anything else that tipped him off as to where he was. He didn't remember everything being quite so... neon.

Memories were missing; that was the only logical conclusion he could come to. He didn't remember getting here. He hadn't even changed out of his uniform, clearly. The last thing he remembered...

... a forest. A strange flash of light.

Absolutely nothing helpful, clearly, and his head hurt too much to properly make sense of the situation immediately. What he knew was that he needed to reach out to a contact, find a place to lay low until he could get back home.

He made his way to a sideroad, and then into a small park where he pulled out his phone, only to find it 'not in service'. That was less than helpful. He didn't even know where he was going to find a payphone. A hotel would be the better option, and using a phone there.

With a sigh of frustration, he made his way back out to the main road again to get his bearings, before starting on the steady walk towards where he last recalled there being a hotel, doing his best to ignore the strange looks he was getting for his attire. At least it was Madripoor and no one was giving him a second look for his weaponry.

#{ hunter } #{ ofsokovianbaronesses }

[thefaeriefeatherdark]

I have a question, I don't know if it was asked before but what, is your top 10 Superboy rogues?

Okay... this list is going to be a little controversial.

1.Travv/Cyborg Superboy.

I know he's only really gotten one story but he's an excellent rogue, he's got a lot of potential, and I hope we see him again.

2. King Shark

I'll note here when I say King Shark I mean King Shark as the more classic serial killer demigod. King Shark should be intelligent, willing to lure people into traps, or capable of figuring out weaknesses (like how he realizes Superboy can still drown and focuses on drowning him).

3. Stinger

Stinger is a "this guy is only in two stories" guy but I actually really like him so much. He's a fun mercenary. He's actually sort of decent at his job. He hasn't got a massive ego propping him up.

4. Knockout

This is going to be the controversial one. Frankly. Knockout is a whole series of fucked up stuff. She absolutely SA'd Kon, and I think DC could and should deal with that. I don't really know how you do that without doing massive damage to the Secret Six stuff, but also it's been like half a decade since the last Secret Six stuff came out so maybe in a couple years that won't be as big a deal? I think she's a great villain so long as we are willing to face her origins and cruelty head on.

5. Amanda Spence

She should be Kon El's arch nemesis. Functionally. She killed his girlfriend, her father is Kon's creator (and his original DNA donor). She's obsessively out for revenge against Kon. Obviously she's the clear Archnemesis and I don't get why everyone stopped using her.

6. Kindred Grim

I'm counting Superboy and the Ravers by the way. Yeah. He's a creep, there's elements of his character that are clear metaphors for committing SA. He's pure evil. And to some extent that sort of works? His main issue is that he gets torn apart by the Predators (Emotional Entities for the Star Sapphires) in the final issue of Superboy and the Ravers, but I could even see bringing him back as a major villain for Kon especially if I was doing a relaunch of Ravers (I'd probably even keep his original ending but state that he eventually managed to escape the Predator's Prison Dimension and give him the name Incubus).

7. Match

Early Match is way higher. He's a rad Kon clone with even weirder powers, he does psychic blasts and is intelligent and cold and calculating and in every way is a sort of reverse of Kon. Later Match sort of sucks and is just a slightly younger Bizarro.

8. Technician

I think there's a lot of potential in a guy who steals tech, reverse engineers it, and then sells it to Supervillains for use in weaponry as a bigger overarching villain. Especially if we wanted to give Kon a more permanent home, he'd be a great villain if Kon's city was on the West Coast where he could act as a Silicon Valley villain character.

9.Scavenger

I love this guy sad I ranked him so low. He's great for a fun story or two, but he's not really a major villain we could keep bringing back. His main deal is that he's got an ancient enemy he's gathering weapons to fight and is incredibly paranoid about it. It's not clear whether his enemy is even real or if he's just delusional.

10. Neon

He died in his first story. He's Roxy Leech's obsessive asshole of an ex. He tries to kill Kon to get Roxy back. I think there's a lot of stuff to do with him as a vengeful maniac with a supersuit who hates Kon and is obsessed with Kon's sister (Roxy).

Some other cool villains.

Black Zero:

Basically what if Kon-El became Magneto and there's a lot of fun in that concept.

Loophole:

Depending on who uses the tech and title either a serious hyper competent threat, or a middle aged loser going through a midlife crisis who dedicated himself to crime in response.

Sidearm:

Kon's recurring fail-rogue who has a robot arm usually with a brand new (and still ineffectual) gimmick every time he shows up. Unfortunately he died while working for Amanda Waller's Suicide Squad.

#Dc Comics #superboy #kon el #dccomics #conner kent #comics #dc #kon el kent #FeatherDarkAnswers #Kon El #Superheroes #There are other villains which I have really mixed feelings on or could like if properly reinvented.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - The Siege

Silco remembers the war between Zaun and Piltover...

tw: violence, bloodshed, mentions of rape, aftermath of war, PTSD

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

“The Siege,” Jinx whispers.

The Siege.

That's what they call the partition—belowground and above. An incursion of monsters, but as with everything else, the definition of monster differed depending on which side of the river one's blood flowed. In Zaun, it meant the Enforcers. To Topside, it meant the entire Undercity populace. The war was a warped mirror; the inevitable endpoint of decades of resentment and repression. 

Silco remembers the losses suffered, and the dead left behind. Their neon city a pitch-black hellhole. The crack of gunfire and high-pitched wails. The humid air beating down on them like a superheated fist; every breath dragged as if through bloodstained cloth.

The Last Drop was blown sky-high. With it, so many of Vander's hopes, and the heart of his lie. A principally foolish and persistently shortsighted lie: peace between the cities.

Peace was never in Zaun's stars.

The only bright point shone through the dark. The embers of Piltover burning.

The final night was spent in a game of deuces with the Enforcers. Zaun's last stand: a desperate gamble against the odds. Their enemy was equipped with state-of-the-art weaponry. They outnumbered the Fissurefolk ten-to-one.  Their ranks were lethal and their bullets endless.

Their mistake was hubris. Topsiders had never fought for their own freedom. Why would they? They had it already, in full measure. But the Fissurefolk? They'd never known the comfort of choice. When you've got nothing left to lose, everything's a chip to bet. Every breath is a fight to the death.

Five hundred Enforcers descended into the Undercity. Only twenty-three returned home.

Silco had devised a strategy off-the-cuff. No time to weigh the pros and cons, or schedule a war-council with the chem-barons. Most had fled to their strongholds. The rest were too busy pillaging. It fell on Silco to act, and he had done it on his own terms. He'd chosen those with the most to lose from Piltover's reign. Ballbusters and bruisers; mercenaries and miscreants; chem-fiends and chemists. A motely crew, each with their own agenda. But none who could be bribed with coin or cowed by bullets.

They loved the city too fiercely.  Loved it with a rage that ran so deep the only answer was freedom.

Or death.

When the Enforcers stormed, they were ready.

"Don't meet them head-on," Silco ordered. "Lure them down.”

Down—where centuries of gallows fodder had hid from the law. Down—where every backstreet had bred sinners and spawned killers. Down—where every crevice was a chokepoint and every corridor a death-trap.

Down—where life was a war waged by inches.

Silco knew the terrain like the black hollow of his heart. In boyhood, he'd negotiated every cobblestone with intimate ease. As a man, he and Vander had made the back-alleys their own, long before they'd claimed the Lanes. The festering warrens deepened into a sinuous complexity that presaged threats at every turn. 

The Enforcers had the firepower, but no experience. They'd been taught to take prisoners.  They'd never learned to chase shadows.

"Give 'em a taste of home," Silco said, and led the way.

Into the slithering dark, he and the crew descended. Sentries were stationed along the canals; shadowrunners between the bridges. Jinx stayed by his side. The others scattered through the alleys. The Enforcers were stubborn—but their strength was not without limits. A fortnight of hard-hitting combat was wearing them down. The disorienting labyrinths left them vulnerable to paranoia. The fumes from the chemical sludge became a miasma.

By midnight, they'd gone from towering titans to terrified mice.

Jinx took the initiative. With the crew's help, she rigged the drain valves with bombs. She didn't have the resources for a big blast; not after the destruction of Piltover's cityscape. She'd had to get creative. With canisters of compressed gas, she'd flooded the streets with pressurized sewage. It was a fatal, fast-moving tide; the Enforcers were left with no choice but to retreat into Zaun's guts or face a no-man's land of filth.

Straight into Jinx's trap.

One Enforcer's footstep triggered the pressure plate. A gas of hallucinogenic potency spewed out. It had each man turning on the other in a frenzy of gunfire and screams.

Sevika and crew took aim, ready to take the rest out at close range.

Silco stopped them.

"Let them bleed out," he said. "Save our ammo."

A second squad of Enforcers rolled in. They charged headlong into a Jinx's playground of razor snares and spring-loaded incendiaries. The explosions lit up the streets. The shrapnel sliced open their ranks. They fell shrieking to the gods for mercy.

Mercy was a foreign language belowground.

"Steel yourselves," Silco ordered the crew. "Their reinforcements will be prepared."

The prediction was dead-on.

In the hours after midnight, the two cities reeled. The Enforcers were dazed and drained. But they knew their mission, and followed it doggedly. When the third wave came, they were equipped with body-armor and respirators. They took shelter behind reinforced barricades, and penetrated the dark with night-vision goggles.

In the ruins of Factorywood, they cornered Silco's squad.

It wasn't a melee—but a massacre. The Fissurefolk knew the territory, but the Enforcers were locked and loaded. With a barrage of gunblasts, they sent Silco's men toppling. While the survivors regrouped, they began a relentless advance. The whistling scream of bullets and the liquid pop of blood vessels became a symphony. The streets ran black with gore.

Silco had to make a snap decision. Retreat or engage?

In his ear, Vander's voice:

"Kill me, if you must. But spare the Lanes."

At the forefront, the battle raged. At the sidelines, the corpses piled up. At his crux, the choice was simple.

Silco thought:  You died for our cause, brother.

I'll fight for it.

Sevika's hand fell on his shoulder. She urged, "They're closing in. We need to fall back."

"No."

"Sir—"

Silco's mismatched eyes scoured the flaming skyline. He spied the Old Hungry, the first spot Vander had ever showed him. He saw its smoking turrets and pockmarked walls.  He saw the gutted factories and charred canals. He saw the smoldering husks of abandoned homes. He saw the wreckage of his people's lives, and felt the ache of their loss.

He stared at the blackened vistas of his savaged city, and knew: Vander had always meant to protect it.

To the last breath.

So did he.

"No," he repeated, and met Sevika's shocked stare. "No retreat. We box them in the sewers. Then we go all in. We fight with everything we have."

"Silco—"

"We end this, Sevika," he said, and his voice didn't come from inside his chest. It webbed up from someplace deeper still, down below the cracked foundations of his psyche. It was a place of endless hunger, unyielding rage; an impregnable nucleus of self. "No more games. No one—nothing—is coming for Zaun again. We take the fight to the bastards, and we burn them out."

Sevika's expression shifted from shock to steel.

He would never forget the look. It burned through him; bit deep into his gut. It was the look of a soldier saluting her flag; a Valkyrie summoning her chariot; a priestess kneeling to her god. It was the look that said: I will follow you to hell, and make it a home fit for us both.

A vow as binding as blood.

There was a salvo of intensifying gunfire. Shrapnel spangled off the cobblestones. There were screams and the choking stench of gunsmoke. Silco dared a look over Sevika's shoulder. He saw two of their number dead—the twins, Zoked and SzSza—their faces the same pallor as the soot hazing the foul air.

Sevika's hand squeezed his shoulder, then fell away.

She said: "I'll hold the line."

"Hold it tight. No quarter—"

"—No mercy." She smiled, a slash of teeth. "You've got ten minutes, sir."

"I've got a lifetime." A heartbeat, his eyes on hers. "Go."

Sevika went. 

The troops fell in behind her, the whole company a solid wedge. She led them out. The Enforcers took one look and opened fire, their bullets blitzing. It didn't matter. The Fissurefolk held formation. Sevika's orders rang strong and cold. They'd trained under her, and would lay their lives at her feet.

Silco saw the brief radiance of Sevika's mechanical arm firing up. The blade jutted like a lance. Charging, she cut an arc of whizzing metal through the bodies. The noise of gunfire gave way to a riot of screams. More Enforcers pressed in. Their shields were a bristling wall, but Sevika kept coming. Her body was a juggernaut, a battering ram, a dragon's claw. She tore the barricade in half, sending the Enforcers reeling. They opened up a lethal crossfire, but she didn’t stop. Her prosthetic arm was a meat-shredder. Every swipe opened up a torso or a throat.

Every blow was a testament.

To Zaun.

To Nandi.

To him.

Silco understood. She was ready to die for the cause—and be done with it. There was no one else left to command; he was the last line of defense.  Him and whoever was left of the holdout. The street was a riven map of bodies. So many dead, their number beyond counting. 

Silco counted the survivors: twenty-three. 

Twenty-three against an Enforcer's squad of fifty. 

Eighteen more would die before the dawn. But not before they wiped their enemies out of existence.

Silco shouted: "Down-low!"

It was the signal.

Six of the survivors closed ranks in the narrow streets, holding off the assault as best they could. The rest followed Silco through the tar-slick warrens. A volley of bullets ricocheted off the stone walls; a flare went whizzing overhead. The fetid murk of the Sumps had never smelled so sweet.

"Fuck!" Lock shouted.

A distant explosion swelled across the rooftops. In the shower of flaming wreckage, Silco turned to glimpse Sevika. Her left was arm was a mangled twist. She'd caught the tail-end of a rocket-launcher blast. A starburst of blood hit the wall. She staggered in a daze; her mouth shaping unsayable words.

Then she vanished. A ripple of smoke spread like a shockwave.

"Fuck," Lock said again, more raggedly.

Silco wanted like blazes to turn back. But that wasn't his and Sevika’s bargain. She'd bought him ten minutes, not a lifetime. The deal was to go all in. They were out of options.

There was no turning back now. No running.

Silco let the image of Sevika burn itself into his retinas. His pulse didn't race. His breath didn't quicken. There was only a blackness of rage, spiking into a knife of pure white-hot focus that scalded his hairline down to his nerve endings.

He made a vow, then and there.

He would not fall. Not while he had blood left to shed and lives left to save.

Not while he had Jinx.

They crashed through the gritty underbrush and into Zaun's sewers. The muck sucked at their boots. The atmosphere reeked of decay. The city's bowels were a subterranean labyrinth of wormholes and dead ends. A haven of nocturnal low-lives; a last resort against Piltover's rule.

The ultimate death-trap

Silco kept a breakneck pace, navigating the complex with unerring instinct. It had been nearly a decade since he'd set foot in these corridors. But his memory spat out the layout, and his body knew the way. The tunnel branched, forked, doubled back. His crew kept in formation, their boots like a drumroll behind him. They cleared each intersection with brute efficiency. No matter how fast the Enforcers chased them, Silco knew they couldn't keep up.

Not without losing a man—or three.

The tunnels narrowed into a chokepoint of interlocking grates. Silco's hand slid across the slime-slicked wall until he reached a rusted panel. The concealed hatch yielded with a shriek. He thrust his torso through a gap and found his way down a rusted ladder. His feet hit a submerged floor. Within moments, the rest of the crew were gathered in a low-ceilinged chamber.

It was a storage depot. The air stank of purifying chemicals. Steel barrels lined the walls; rubber drums piled up in the center.  Silco kicked one open. Dust spurted, and with it the bite of gun-oil. Inside was a cache of weapons. They were the same design used by the Enforcers: top-of-the-line, and packed with a payload. Enough to level a city, or lay waste to a battalion.

The crew's shock was audible. "Holy shit!"— "You gotta be kidding me!"— "Where'd all this come from?"

"A last resort," Silco said succinctly, and lifted the lid off another barrel. There was a stash of grenades. His smile spread like blood in the darkness. "We'll bury them alive."

He snapped orders and the crew leapt. The explosives were prepped and primed. The trap was laid. They set up along the tunnel’s mouth. Dustin took point. Lock and Ran guarded the rear. The rest were to act as a cordon along the walls.

And Jinx—

She was to his left, just like always. Fishbones was slung across her back; Puff-Puff was holstered at her thigh. A belt of grenades encircled her hips. Her arm cradled Pow-Pow with a casual alignment of weight, like a child in the crook of her elbow.

His child—a wisp of a creature—with enough firepower to destroy a nation.

Yet the worst wreckage was her eyes.

"Jinx."

Silco beckoned, his voice soft as a slit throat.

Soundless, she came. Her eyes held a fritzed-out blankness. She was Jinx times ten—and yet she was almost gone, all the animation drained out of her. The past days had pushed her psyche past the boundary of human endurance. There was a vacuum inside her now: the space Silco ought to have filled with love—and hadn't.

He'd failed.

Failed as a father. Failed as a leader. Failed as a man.

He was a black-hearted monster who'd built an empire on blood and drugs. He'd cast away Vander for a knife to the gut; he'd forsaken Nandi's goodness for a last-ditch gamble. He'd sent his precious girl off to die without a thought; now he wasn't certain he could summon her back to life. In one night, he'd managed to ruin himself, and his city, and the one person he would kill for.

The universe, in its cruelty, had sent Jinx to save him. 

Silco cradled Jinx's face in both hands. The brokenness of her eyes pierced him to the bone.

"Jinx," he said, "You've done well. You've done so well tonight."

Jinx stared. Her irises glowed like sickly phosphorescence.

"You've kept us alive," he said, more urgently. "Now you must hold on."

A quiver of breath. "Hold..."

Silco fought down the tide of self-loathing and forced himself to keep speaking. "Hold on to yourself, Jinx. Stay with us. The fight isn't done."

Jinx stared blindishly.

"Please, Jinx. We need you."

The words throbbed: hollow, desperate, true.

Jinx stayed silent.

"I need you!” Silco barked, a brutal whiplash of command. "Now, Jinx. Hold on to yourself—as I hold on to you. I will keep you alive, even if I have to burn their whole damn city for it."

The silence stretched on.

Then—

Jinx shivered.

The fizzle in her eyes faded. She pressed the heels of her palms to the swollen lids and rubbed. When her lashes lifted, the brightness was all the brighter. It was like a magic trick. In a trice, she was there: his wild child, his weapon; his wonder.  She focused on him with such intensity, it felt as though his skull might fracture under the impact.

Her lips shaped secret syllables. Silco could barely hear them over the choking silence.

"Say again, child?"

"Show them," Jinx breathed.

"What?"

Her eyes gleamed.

"We'll show ‘em," she said. "We'll show 'em all."

Silco nodded. His palms skated up the sides of Jinx's neck, a tender strangulation. Leaning in, he kissed her forehead. Then he let go.

"All in," he said.

"All in," Jinx repeated, and he knew she understood.

At their backs, the thud of boots.

"Bossman!" Ran hissed. "They're coming! They're fucking coming!"

No time for delay. The surviving Enforcers were forty-two strong, and no fools. They'd follow Silco's straight into the depths, until they could call it a victory. They were tenacious, tireless, but they had no idea who they were facing.

Silco was counting on it.

He ordered, "Bite the bullet."

In their network's parlance: Go hard. Go fast. Go out with a bang.

Tonight, there was no better motto.

The Enforcers' footsteps thudded. Closer. Closer. Silco gave the signal, and the crew went on the offensive. A canister of colorless gas spewed across the floor. In the gloom, a flash-bang. The smoky air was interrupted with sparks.  Silco and the crew kept their heads down, their aim high. They wore goggles and had sealed their mouths with respirators. It was enough to keep their vision safe and their lungs unclogged.

The Enforcers were not so fortunate. They tore off their helmets, eyes throbbing from the flashbang—and began to choke. The gas was from the mines: a caustic chemical that burned their throats. They stumbled into the dark, and met their deaths at the business ends of his crew's barrels. They emptied clip after clip, the recoil jolting their arms, their hearts like hammers in their chests.

The tunnel morphed from a war-zone to a blood-red hell.

The survivors were disoriented but determined. Blindly, they charged. The crew's reflexes reverted to close-quarters combat. Blades whipped out, and the Enforcers were taken by the throat and the gut. The fight devolved into a brawl, the sound of metal and meat a ghastly concerto.

An Enforcer swung the barrel of his rifle. Its butt nailed Dustin in the gut. He went down, gasping. The Enforcer aimed his firearm. Then his head exploded. His corpse slumped. Behind him stood Jinx, the muzzle of her gun smoking.

A shriek came from the left. Ran went down, a knife stuck in the arm. The Enforcer drew a pistol. Silco was quicker. His palm gripped the bone handle of Vander's bowie knife like a lover's throat. Soundlessly, he crept up behind the Enforcer. The blade went in like a kiss, deep into the man's jugular.

The Enforcer gurgled; his pistol dropped. Silco's boot slammed into his back. The Enforcer toppled. Silco followed, and the knife went in, and out, and in. The man thrashed, his last words a plea. Silco twisted the blade. He didn't bother with the mercy of a quick reply.

In the background, the Enforcer's comrade charged, and died screaming. A scythelike swipe of metal took his legs off, and sent him spinning like a child's doll. Sevika rose out of the haze. Her prosthetic arm was a fritzing exoskeleton—but her blade was intact. Her hair was charred against her skull and her silhouette bloodsplattered.

She didn't look human anymore. She was the dragon in the flesh: a thing made of rage and fire and steel.

A third Enforcer lunged at her blind-spot. Silco pivoted, and whipped out his boot knife. He threw it. It spun in a whirling blur, then buried itself hilt-deep in the man's left eye-socket. He slumped.

Sevika's eyes caught his. A nod was traded between them; a debt owed and paid.

Then their attention went to the carnage.

To the hunt.

The Enforcers were down to sixteen. Silco's own crew were reduced to the same number. They'd done their job: a suicide mission turned triumph. Now it was a matter of finishing the fight.

Silco gave the final order: "To the Bridge!"

It was the home-stretch. It was also the greatest risk. They'd never had time to run drills, and Silco had never wanted to test their mettle in a live-fire scenario. But their survival depended on it. If more Enforcers charged belowground, the fight was over. Their city was lost. Their freedom, forfeit.

They could not stay in the Sumps any longer. They had to go above.

"Jinx," Silco shouted. "It's time!"

Jinx nodded. Fishbones was slung over her shoulder. Her eyes were a smoldering pink, and her mouth was set. She was a small, vicious thing, armed and ready.

And she was his.

Together, they sprinted. Up through the subterranean tunnels. Up through the stinking dark. Up towards the light.

The battle was not done. But it would be, soon. They had the upper hand. They had the Hex-gem. And they had the element of surprise. Piltover hadn't anticipated the Trencher's’ zeal. Now they would learn the full truth: that a cornered beast will bite and bite hard.

Silco would do the biting. He'd sink his teeth in, and twist, and tear until he tasted blood.

And he would savor every drop.

At his side, Jinx was a bright streak. Her eyes shone. She was the broken girl he'd plucked from the streets: the comet who'd saved his life.

Now she'd save their city.

At Bridgeside, there was an oncoming wave. A troop of Enforcers. They were the vanguard, and Silco's crew would have to fight tooth and nail.

So they did.

In the heart of the firestorm, Silco took the helm. Sevika was his right hand. They were two beasts of war, their teeth bared and their claws out. Every inch was suffering; every breath was a challenge. There were bullets and blades, screams and smoke. Silco's mind was caught in a mesh of razor-wire. His hands were a blur, the knife an extension of his arm, the pistol an extra digit. He didn't know how many Enforcers he killed. Only that they'd fallen, and kept falling.

His crew fell too. He saw Thieram's head blown off his shoulders. He saw Cath, slumped over in a pool of entrails. He saw Ran dragged into an alleyway by three Enforcers. He heard the shred of cloth and the crack of bones. Ran's screams rang out, a high-pitched wail of violation.

The others fell to the sludge in the aftermath, their eyes staring blindly.

And Jinx—Jinx was a blur. Pow-Pow and Puff-Puff were her wings. Fishbones was her trumpet. She cut a path through the swarm, a gloriole of destruction.

In the final surge, the Enforcers were taken apart. Silco and Sevika became the butchers. Jinx was the killing-blow. With a scream that resonated to the rooftops, she unleashed her arsenal. Fishbones's rocket sailed. The Bridge exploded, a chain reaction that rippled down its length. The night was ablaze; a perfect blue inferno.

She painted Piltover with magic and doused it with blood.

She saved them all.

She saved them, but victory came at a steep cost. War is like that. It sinks inside you, under your skin, into your lungs, rooting itself in the mind and soul. You must surrender something of yourself as a matter of brute survival—or perish. In the aftermath, there was no jubilation. Only the sun rising on a city laid waste, and a long march down the path to progress.

His squad were reduced to five. Each one was in rough shape. Sevika had gone into shock from the blowback on her left arm, bronze skin turning ashen, her dark eyes glazed beyond the sphere of pain. Ran huddled under the blanket, bare-skinned and slicked to the elbows with blood, features distorted with agony. Dustin lay pin-cushioned with morphine syrettes, a twitchy pup yelping for rescue. Lock stayed standing, but he resembled something badly-chewed: ragged with wounds and missing whole layers of himself.

Jinx, meanwhile, crouched in the shadows. She'd kept pushing bullets into Pow-Pow's chamber, then emptying them out. Over and over, with no real sense of purpose, as if they were memories she was trying to jam inside and then blast out for good. Her eyes were huge, pupils ringed in luminous pink. Tears streaked her cheeks like war-paint.

Silco stood in their midst, a crooked silhouette plastered with blood. His fingers clenched and unclenched on Vander's knife. Everything will be fine, he could have said with a slickster's ease. A lie, but the dogs of war were fed by lies. The machines of progress were fueled by them.

He could have lied, out of necessity, or cruelty, or mercy.

He hadn't.

Words failed to take the night down to scale. It was too big, too bloody. It was freedom, and the past, and the future.

It was Zaun.

By dawn, they'd picked their way to a safehouse in Entresol. Bodies everywhere on the street. Slabs of spoiling meat. The ones still groaning, he'd ordered dragged to the temporary shelters. The rest, they'd left where they lay. The time for cremation wouldn't be for weeks yet. By then, most corpses would be unrecognizable.

Inside, Singed was waiting with medical supplies. Together, they'd tended to the wounded who trickled slowly in, patching up bullet holes and setting broken limbs. In the end, few survived perfectly unscathed. Some lapsed into comas that they never awoke from. Others died in a rictus of anguished screams. The lucky ones went silently, slipping into death's embrace with a sigh.

It was near sunset by the time Silco slept. By then, the light in the safehouse was an eerie twilit green, just enough to make out the bodies of his crew rolled in threadbare sleeping bags: Lock an unmoving mass, Dustin sprawled on onto his back in a jittery sprawl of limbs, an arm flung out, knuckles nearly touching Ran’s hair, peeking in tufts from the fabric, the rest of their body enfolded. Silco found himself in the corner, apart from the others but close enough that if someone went into Shimmer convulsions, he'd be at hand to stabilize them.

Across from him, Sevika lay sprawled on her side, eyes shut. Her good hand lay stretched out, in the weak halo of the candle. Silco had stared at it. For a moment he'd wanted to take her hand in his, all rough and bruised. Nothing else. Just take her hand. The war had reminded him that there were facets to his life that he couldn't keep by the wayside forever.

Desires that had nothing to do with Zaun.

He hadn't touched her. The candleflame was flickering, and they couldn't waste it. He'd licked a fingertip and pinched it out. And in the dark, he'd rolled, fitting his chin to the hard curve of Jinx's skull. His child lay nestled close. Dead to the world; her scent salty from weeping. Tears still seeped from under her sleeping eyelids.

He wanted to sleep too. But the safehouse was full of specters. Vander. Nandi. Lika. Benzo. His knife lay close at hand, the blade clean. He'd stared at it, and vowed that Topside would never be forgiven.

The night never forgotten.

#arcane league of legends #arcane #arcane silco #silco #forward (never forget)/xoxo #forward but never forget/xoxo #arcane jinx #jinx #silco and jinx #silco x sevika #sevilco #arcane ran #arcane lock #arcane dustin #tw: rape #tw: violence #tw: death

[efangamez]

New Prices on my Stores!!!

Hey y'all!

With the announcement of limited community copies, I have altered some prices for games, lowering many of them!

Here are some of the AWESOME games I'm offering for just $9.99!

MOURN: A Retro FPS Styled TTRPG

Darkness, death, and despair. Three things this world has known for far too long.

On the moon of Delta 4, far beyond the soiled Earth humanity left behind hundreds of years ago, there was an age of unbridled peace for generations. Wars were viewed as unnecessary, famine became a dark tale told by fathers to troublesome children, and the many plagues that haunted humans since their birth had all but become a distant memory.

This peace was deep and cherished, giving humanity a golden age unknown on their previous home planet.

That was, until the Qyu appeared.

The Qyu, a warrior people from a planet farther than one can fathom, that contains thousands of species of conquered species, set fire to Delta 4, reducing many cities that once shone with bright towers now to piles of ash and cinders. The people-led government, the communal systems, and the vibrant cultures of the once great moon fell under the iron fist of tyranny and dictatorship. Kindness turned to capital, freedom turned to fear, and knowledge turned to nepotism.

Now, only some factions of humanity remains on Delta 4, barely clinging to the formerly illustrious society they once cherished. All seemed lost, for surely no one could stand up to the might of the Qyu.

That was, until you arrived.

GAMEPLAY

MOURN is a fast, lethal, and easy-to-learn game just as the games this game is inspired from (DOOM, DUSK, Blood, Amid Evil). Rip and tear through hordes of enemies with your allies using only coin flips to decide your fates.

This game includes…

-DEVASTATING weaponry that adds a layer of strategy to every encounter

-INNOVATIVE use of mathematics in its multiples-of-5 system and coin flip skill checks

-IMMERSIVE lore that can make your world as interesting as possible

-HUNDREDS of ways you can customize your character through a simple, yet masterful, character creation process

This game will surely satisfy anyone looking to crave the itch of playing a retro FPS styled game in a tabletop format.

Neon Nights 1st Edition

In Jeriko City, everybody wants to be somebody. Who do you wanna be?

Neon Nights is a cyberpunk/dystopian tabletop RPG set on Earth after a nuclear war devastated the entire planet. After hundreds of years of thousands of people roaming the desolate, irradiated Great Wastes, megacities emerged from the dust of deserts. Where there was once crumbling roads and dancing dust devils now stand skyscrapers towering over hundreds of thousands of roaming pedestrians walking the streets of Jeriko City, located on the East Coast of the once powerful United States of America.

Neon Nights contains an astounding amount of content, including:

*Dozens and dozens of unique, build-friendly Perks

*Dozens of occupations that make your character feel fleshed out and original

*Dozens of skills attached to each occupation that feels personal and useful to your character

*A plethora of weapons and supplies that make your loadout feel personal without too many things to keep track of

Neon Nights also has near infinite build freedom, making each of your playthroughs feel unique and interesting. No more classes and no more level-specific spells or skills!

*Want to specialize in long-range combat using sniper rifles? Go for it.

*What about using deception to trick and lie your way to victory? It’s here!

*What about a steroid-fueled maniac who craves nothing more than gore on their baseball bat? This game is perfect for you. 

Freedom is paramount in this RPG, and the moment that you begin playing will be all you need to fall in love with this completely new and original system designed by Ethan H. Reynolds.

So, will you follow the law, and use the state to pave your way to power? Or will you rebel, and watch banners fly because of your courage? It's up to you to decide.

Tales from the Aerosphere

Tales from the Aerosphere is an original steampunk TTRPG that is powered by the Neon Nights system, a system that prioritizes seemingly limitless character creation freedom.

In this game you will find…

-HUNDREDS of interesting, unique, and fun Perks

-DOZENS of weapons, CogWare augmentations for your body, equipment upgrades, and items to add to your beginning character

-OVER 20 unique and dynamic NPC sheets that are simplistic and accessible to use at any table.

From medics, to assassins, to mechanics, to a literal barbarian, there are THOUSANDS of character combinations you can play  in Tales from the Aerosphere.

The game also includes free updates whenever a new patch is released that adds content or fixes errors. 

Wrath of the Undersea

"The Great Ones promised retribution for the folly of Man. Their empire spreads across the once great kingdoms that now reside below the ocean's depths. Only then did we, chosen of great Dagon and Mother Hydra, climb ashore to heretical ground to lay our foundation once more. We gave the usurpers the children of the sea to feast upon, and ancient shells that whisper hints of prophecy in exchange of resettlement.

This was the way it was...until betrayal plagued our kind."

Wrath of the Undersea is a 17 page game where you play as Lovecraftian monsters seeking revenge on the people who kill your kin and have stolen your land. Use powerful Incantations to cast spells, pray to the Great Ones for help, or use fang and spear to reclaim the shore for yourselves once more.

Disk Masters

In Disk Masters, a party of 2-4 players and a Game Master create the Summons (monsters) of their dreams. Using these Summons, players can explore the Gatcha region created by their GM and become the Disk Masters of the land by either battling their way to victory or saving the Gatcha region from a terrible threat!

In this handbook, you will find…

-DETAILED graphic artwork of Sample Summons you can plug and play easily with!

-STRATEGIC monster-led combat that will test the skills of each player!

-INFINITE Summon varieties and ways to build your monster!

-EASY TO UNDERSTAND RULES that will be a breeze to digest!

Become the Disk Master you were destined to become and download Disk Masters today!

------

All of these games AND MORE can be found on my Linktree attached below!

Please support a disabled and trans game developer today!

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #trans #queer #gamedev #indie #game dev #tabletop rpgs #tabletop #tabletop games #roleplaying games #ttrpg community #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop gaming #rpg #ttrpg design #ttrpgs #ttrpg art #ttrpgfamily #retro #fps #retro fps #neon nights #MOURN #wrath of the undersea #disk masters #tales from the aerosphere #games #gaming

[stayxlix]

off the deep end. (02)

~(part two) the price of fate~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 11.6k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, mentions of murder/execution, death, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (gunfire/knife use), injury, blood, angst, suggestive content, parental neglect, language, mentions of hunger/starvation, please lmk if i missed any!

a/n: thank you so so much for the likes, reblogs, and comments on part one, it really motivated me to sit down and continue the story. :) i hope you enjoy part two and as always please don't be afraid to let me know what you think ♡ ♡

~series masterlist~

"being the mirror to someone's soul comes with a cost. every choice made when your fate is intertwined with another's comes with a cost. the very thing that brought them together is what would inevitably destroy them in the end, because neither of them could afford a price that high."

Felix thought his heart might explode from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

He kept his focus on the seven bodies around him and the sound of strained breathing as their feet made contact with the earth. He counted them one by one and then again. Count to seven and then repeat. Positioning himself toward the back of the group, he kept each of them in his sight as best as he could through the darkness. He tried to ignore the gunfire behind him but it was getting harder as it drew nearer. As the bullets became closer. A thin layer of sweat covered the nape of his neck.

Felix thought his mind might explode if it continued to race even faster than his feet. 

The boys around him were concerned with only one thing, escaping unharmed, and Felix was too. But he had something else burning through his thoughts. 

He had a secret.

A secret that had somehow made its way back into his arms tonight, in a red dress that perfectly matched his blood stained hands. Standing in front of him, there you were. With your family crest around your neck like a neon sign from some other world. 

He didn't even know your name, but he knew how you tasted. He knew how soft your lips were and how your fingers wrapped in his hair just the way he liked. He remembered how your eyes looked when they reflected the moonlight, how your pupils dilated as you looked up at him underneath it. 

Felix never thought he would see you again but now, he knew who you were.

It was a very dangerous mistake he had made, kissing you in that alley. Maybe he would have made another, if Changbin hadn't come out from the smoke to collect him, shaking his shoulder to remind him where he was. Thankfully there wasn't time for him to ask questions. If there had been, he wouldn't have gotten the answers anyway. 

You were Felix's secret to keep.

When they reached the palace gates and their borrowed vehicle came into view, it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, second to you. Without a word between them, the boys threw themselves in one after the other. Felix was last to make it. He grabbed Hyunjin's outstretched arm and jumped in behind Chan who had taken the drivers seat.

"Did you find it?" He leaned forward, yelling into Chans ear while the older boy started the engine.

"We got what we could but Felix-”

He switched the car into gear and pressed his foot on the gas. 

"It was missing a piece."

Felix let out a defeated sigh and leaned back. There was no time for further questions given the current situation. As the vehicle jerked forward, Hyunjin pushed him down to help him avoid a bullet that just narrowly missed his head for the second time that night. He closed his eyes and kept his hands on top of his head as the speed picked up. 

Chan's response meant only one thing.

Maybe he’d get his chance to make that second mistake after all. 

You opened your eyes lying on the cold stone floor next to your bed, having given up trying to sleep in it. The plush blankets and feather pillows made you want to scratch your skin until it bled. 

Three days. That's how long you had been confined to your bedroom. Judging by the changes in light and dark outside your window and the amount of meals that had been provided to you, as they sat in the corner untouched. You felt guilty for not eating them, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

Security in the palace was at an all time high, with two guards outside your door at all times. Whether they were there to keep potential threats out or to keep you from leaving, well, you couldn’t be sure. They seemed to be doing a pretty good job of both. 

Threat. 

You scoffed at your own choice of words. Felix and his accomplices hardly seemed like a threat to anyone but your father. You didn’t want to think of them that way, but it was hard to change what had been ground into to your head for the majority of your life. 

For three days you traced the shapes in the architecture above, pacing countlessly back and forth around the perimeter of the room. At first it helped, for a few hours, but the lack of sleep and confinement to the small space with only your thoughts to keep you company was starting to get to you.

The amount of times you had replayed the events of that night in your head was bordering on unhealthy. 

Every time you closed your eyes you saw him in front of you. Every time you questioned whether or not you had just imagined it all, you just had to blink and there he was. Invading your thoughts, making himself comfortable, and refusing to leave. 

You were beyond the point of pretending that you didn't want to see him again.

Felix represented the answers you had been trying so desperately to find on your own. He represented freedom, and no matter how small it might be, he represented a chance to help the people of the districts beyond the Inner Circle.

Sure it would be a lot harder, maybe even impossible, to get out of the palace any time soon with the increase in security. Even if you could, the world outside would be a lot more dangerous now that the majority of District 9 knew your face. Not to mention how difficult it would be to actually find Felix again, but there was a chance. 

If you could actually manage some way to get out of the palace you would go back to the only place you knew he might be. There was no telling how he might react if he saw you again, now that he knew who you were, but if you were able to explain yourself before he tried anything then there was a chance.

No matter how small, there was a chance, and you were tired of waiting.

Right on schedule, the door to your bedroom cracked open. Just wide enough for one of the guards to slip in and bring you breakfast. You pushed the plate out of his hands as soon as he stepped inside. The guard next to him went to grab you, but you freed your arm just enough to elbow him directly in the face. When you made contact with his nose it was followed by a loud crack. He reached up to grab his nose and you slipped out of his grasp, bolting down the corridor in the direction of your father's office. 

If you could talk to your father then you might be able to convince him that you didn't need to be babysat any longer. If you were ever going to make it out of the palace again then you needed to start somewhere. Getting rid of the 24/7 surveillance outside your bedroom door was a start. 

When you reached the heavy door to his study you were surprised to find it unlocked. 

He always locked it.

Pushing your way in, you saw him standing with his back to you. His hands were grazing the books on a shelf in front of him and you noticed a large duffel bag at his feet. It was rare to find him alone, without the company of a general or a handful of guards. Gulping down the uneasy feeling that crept up your throat, you stepped inside. 

In his presence, even the silence in a quiet room was loud.

Your footsteps caught his attention as you entered the room. When he turned to look, the expression on his face remained unamused.

"You are supposed to be in your quarters."

He turned his back to you to again. 

"Are you going somewhere?" you ignored him, noting that the bag at his feet seemed to be half full of supplies.

He paused for a moment before dropping his hand from the bookshelf, letting out a sigh. 

"I need to leave the palace briefly, yes, but some of my best men are staying behind. You will be safe. You are to resume training as normal this afternoon and aside from that, you are not to leave your bedroom until I return."

"What do you mean you're leaving?”

He pulled a book from the shelf in front of him and tossed it into the open bag.

"As I said, I will be gone briefly, no more than one week. There is something I need to take care of and it requires that I be there in person-"

"Now?! after what happened?!" you slammed your hands down on the desk in front of you, leaning over it in an attempt to gain his attention.

A failed attempt, as he only paused his movement for a fraction of a second before returning to shift through the books on the shelves. He couldn't even give you the respect to face you when you were attempting to have an actual conversation. 

"Where could you possibly need to go so badly after what happened? Why can't you ever just be honest with me?! I thought things would be different now. I thought you would see me as..more of an equal." Your voice strained. 

You wouldn't have dared question him like this a month ago. For the most part, up until now, you had been a very obedient daughter. But you knew things you didn't before and your frustration with him had been given 72 consecutive hours to build up inside of you. Even more than it already had been after you found out the truth about the world outside. 

It wasn't just him though. You were frustrated with yourself.

Its not like you actually wanted him to see you as his equal. You didn't even care what happened to him outside the walls of the palace. You really didn't. In fact, it would be preferable if he left and never came back. Fell victim to the hands of some rogue group of thieves or died of starvation. How poetic that would be. Everyone in all 9 districts would be better off. You hated him with everything in you. But there was a small part of yourself that you hated even more. The smallest part, buried somewhere far deep down. 

The part of you that still saw him as your father. Even after everything you knew now.

But it wasn't just him and yourself. No, you were frustrated with Felix and his group of rebels for creating a new mess. For putting themselves in danger and starting a fight they would never win. You were desperate to make sure that they didn’t meet the same fate as so many others before them, but they didn't stand a chance. 

Not alone, anyway. 

You were pulled from your thoughts when your father turned and walked around the desk. He put his hand firmly on your shoulder and your body tensed underneath his touch as it wasn't something you were used to. It made you even more uncomfortable as his palm rested over the place where Felix had grabbed you in the alley that night, like he would somehow be able to sense the secret you kept there. 

Like he could feel the traces that the boy had left behind.

"My dear girl," there was nothing behind his eyes when he spoke. 

"Everything I do is for you, to protect you.”

Nothing in his voice, as empty words fell from his lips. Words that you had heard over and over a thousand times before.

"It is essential for me to leave this time. Someday you will understand. As for what happened…it was unfortunate, yes. A mistake. But it is being dealt with. You are not to mention it again."

It is being dealt with. 

Is that where he was going? Had he somehow already found a way to reach Felix and the others beyond the palace walls?

You sucked in a shallow breath as his grip tightened on your shoulder. His gaze was so piercing that you had to look away, for fear that the ghosts within it would come out to drag you with them. 

"Understood?"

"U-understood," you kept your eyes trained on the wall behind him even though you weren't really looking at anything at all. 

"Good. Now go, you have training."

When he released your shoulder you caught a glimpse of the deep scar on the palm of his hand. He returned his attention back to the bag on the floor, removing a heavy looking gun from the wall and tossing it in.  Securing a second smaller one into a holster at his waist.

You wasted no time reaching for the door handle but just as you went to open it, he spoke again. 

“And y/n-" 

Your name felt like someone else's identity entirely when it came from his mouth. It always had. 

"We will further discuss your position as my equal when I return."

Liar.

You let the door slam behind you. 

The conversation with your father didn't make any sense. 

In the past, whenever he felt that someone needed to be silenced, his guards always did the dirty work for him. They would go out to collect and bring suspected rebels back to the palace, where he would take it upon himself to silence them for good. That’s how it had always been, but for some reason this time he was insisting on going with. 

If he had found Felix and the others that quickly, it didn't make sense why he needed a week when you could make it to and from District 7 in one night on foot.

If thats even where he was going.  

Maybe you were a fool to think that you would find Felix there again. After all, his accent certainly didn't match with that of someone from District 7.  Maybe your father was planning to track them down somewhere further, in the outer districts.

After chewing on your bottom lip until you tasted blood, replaying the conversation over and over in your head all afternoon, you came to the conclusion that it didn't really matter why he was leaving or where he was going. 

You just needed to get to Felix first.

That evening, as the sun began to set, three guards on beaten up motorbikes were the first to go. They left as scouts, kicking up a cloud of dust as as they sped off. When your father decided it had been long enough, he called together a very select group of guards and his closest advisors to join him in loading up a week's worth of supplies onto three large vehicles, along with enough weapons for a small army. 

They would certainly need it. 

They left without another word, but not before he made sure to shoot you one last unsettling glance as a reminder to behave. It almost made you reconsider what you were about to do. 

Almost.

A few moments after they were no longer visible against the horizon, when you were absolutely certain that they wouldn't be turning back, you decided it was the perfect time. Now or never.

You stepped forward, breaking the silence. Waving your arms around, you cried out to the remaining staff about how it was so incredibly unfair that you weren't going with him as the future leader of the 9 districts. After all, it was your right to be a part of any and all business that involved what would belong to you some day. You put as much exaggeration into the act as possible, raising your voice and throwing a few objects that lie at your feet. You even faked a couple of frustrated tears, which was surprisingly easy to do.

After your meltdown, you stormed off to your bedroom with near certainty that you would be left alone for the night. Before he went, your father had agreed to remove the guards from outside your door (as you had strongly insisted), and even though your sudden outburst after his departure was very out of character for you, you knew that none of the staff left behind would be volunteering themselves to deal with you. 

You were counting on them to assume that your actions were just the result of recent events…or that you were finally starting to lose your mind.

Maybe it was little of both.

Either way, as suspected, nobody came to check up on you. 

Not even Jisoo, who was probably too busy with responsibilities of her own. You hoped she hadn't heard about the way you acted after your father's departure. It was incredibly embarrassing, but that was the least of your worries right now.

You had a different kind of responsibility to deal with. 

The atmosphere outside the palace was different tonight. Eerily calm, as menacing black clouds rolled in from somewhere far away. The wind whipped your hair in all directions and you couldn't even make out the moon, but you were thankful for the cover that the added darkness provided.

A storm was coming. 

After making your way out of the tunnels you headed out across the boundaries of Districts 8 and 9. With a significant amount of effort to avoid being seen, you found yourself once again inside the tavern that lie within District 7.  

Although the citizens of District 9 would have recognized your face if they had seen you, the population in District 7 was much more scarce. Even if anyone out this far had been given a very detailed description of your features, it was pretty likely that they wouldn't be able to recognize you from words alone. That, and you were almost certain that nobody from District 9 would have any business out here in the first place to be able to relay the information. 

So far, it seemed like you had been right in your assumption.

It was a long shot, but the alley was the only place you could think to go if you were to have any chance of running into Felix. After finding it empty, the tavern was the next closest place and it seemed slightly safer than wandering the streets back and forth, waiting for someone to recognize you. 

You would stay as long as you could, and then you would come back tomorrow and do it again. You had at least a week before your father returned, and you weren't going to waste the opportunity with him and a number of guards out of the palace. 

There was something peaceful about the silent, candlelit space. You let your mind wander, getting lost in the patterns made by the wood at your feet. It felt good not to think about anything for a while. It was easier to do here, where you didn't feel like yourself.

You rested your legs and sipped on a stale glass of warm water. Eventually, you approached the bartender, the same as before, with a handful of coins.

"My favorite customer."

You offered him a soft smile which he returned, before something behind you caught his attention. 

You felt it first. A familiar shift in the energy.

You knew he was there before you even turned around but when you did, it sent a wave of electrifying chills racing through your body. 

You risked everything to come back here with the sole intention of finding Felix, so why did the sudden sight of him leaning against the frame to the open door, sporting a worn out leather jacket and the signature bandana wrapped around his arm, make you so uneasy?

You didn't believe in fate, but if you had, you're sure this would've been a sign of something.

The bartender cleared his throat but Felix remained motionless in the doorway. The way his eyes bore into you formed a growing suspicion in your mind that it wasn't just a coincidence he had shown up here tonight too. The longer you looked at him, the more the uneasiness inside of you turned to relief. Relief that he actually had made it out of the palace after the raid.

Relief that you had been the one to find him first. 

Without wasting any time to consider how you should approach the situation, you took a step toward him. Then another, almost as if your legs were being controlled by some outside force.

The space in the doorway wasn't big enough for both of you and your shoulder collided with his as you went to pass by. You added a little emphasis to make sure he felt it. 

Before you were able to make it outside, he reached down and secured a firm grip on your arm.

You knew he would. 

His hold on your arm was tight, but not enough to hurt. Without giving a second glance back into the bar, he turned on his heels, pulling you with him. Solidifying your suspicion that he wasn't going to let you get away so easily. Not this time.

You shuffled down the street in his grasp until he turned into the alley where you first met. The spot where you kissed just a few feet away. 

As soon as you turned the corner, he threw you against the wall and you winced at the sudden pain in the back of your head from where it struck the brick. Before you had time to process what was happening, you sensed the cool blade of a knife against your throat. You looked down at it and back up at him with wide eyes. His cold expression faltered slightly when your eyes met, but it was short-lived as he applied pressure to the handle of the blade.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled.

You had been right about the accent. It was thick and added an element of mystery to his deep voice that was already unlike anything else you had ever heard before. 

Felix turned his head to survey the surroundings but there was nobody there for him to find. He probably suspected that your appearance tonight was nothing more than a trap meant to lure him out.

If it had been, it would have worked.

“There's nobody else," you choked out against the knife.

"Who the hell do you think you are coming here again?” his voice lowered even more.

"You know who I am." You held his stare as the intensity in his eyes grew. "If you'll just let me explain-"

"I should kill you right now to send a message." He interrupted, pressing the blade further into your throat.

"I think you've done enough of that already, don't you?"

Maybe it was stupid to try and taunt him, seeing as he was currently the one with a weapon to your throat. But if he knew you were nervous then it gave him even more of an advantage, and there was a very small part of you that was afraid he might actually use it. 

You tried to feign some sort of composure, as if the cool blade pressing further into your skin wasn't making your heart race.

As if his proximity to you wasn't making it faster.

"Killing me right now would be an incredible waste of an opportunity and judging by the little stunt you pulled the other day, something tells me you're not that stupid, Felix."

You made sure to stress every syllable of his name as it fell from your lips.

“How did you-" 

It was your turn to interrupt. 

"Maybe you should tell your friends to keep their voices down next time you raid the palace." You cocked an eyebrow at him, referring to the moment you discovered his name when you overheard one of his accomplices call out to him.

“If I wanted you dead, you already would be. Besides, It would make a lot more sense to take me as a hostage, you'd probably make enough profit to be able to move all eight of you into District 9.” 

He remained silent so you took the opportunity to add one more thing.

"Not to mention the fact that I saved your life. Twice now, actually. Or maybe you've forgotten that. You owe me, so just let me explain. If you're not satisfied with what I have to say, if you don't want to take me up on what i have to offer, then i give you full permission to slit my throat."

Felix's brow furrowed. 

The fact that you had somehow managed to help him evade death twice in such a short amount of time was the only thing keeping him from ending your life right then and there.

That and the way you looked at him, like nobody ever had. He was literally threatening your life and yet, you looked at him like he would never actually be able to do something so wicked. Like there was good inside of him. 

If only you knew.

Did you really think he had forgotten the way his breath hitched when you kissed him back the night you met, only a few feet away? Or three days ago, when you put yourself between him and a gun without a second thought. Something so beautiful caught between two deadly, violent things.

A ready weapon and himself.

Not to mention the way that you looked back at him after you'd done it, as if you were unsure of your actions until you met his eyes. Almost leading him to believe that you had acted to protect him. 

Almost. 

But Felix wasn't a fool.

Despite it all, in that moment he wanted nothing more than step forward and pull you away from the gun. Maybe even into his arms, just so he could be the one to keep you safe. He wanted it so badly that he almost took that step, letting himself forget his surroundings and why he was really there. Until Changbin came to collect him and you mouthed at him to go, dragging him back to his harsh reality.  

Much like now, when you swallowed and your pretty throat moved against the knife in his hand.

Hesitantly, he began to release the pressure on the blade. He lifted it and you let out a breath that you hadn't even realized you'd been holding in. Felix felt the smallest pang of guilt in his chest when his eyes fell to the faint mark that it left behind on your skin.

Finally, he spoke.

"You have until it starts to rain, princess."

His sudden use of the nickname made your knees weak, but you held your composure. Glancing up at the clouds that seemed to swell with rain, you knew you didn't have long. 

Clearing your throat, you decided you would tell him everything. Because having nothing in the first place means you have nothing left to lose. 

You began by explaining to Felix how you had been kept away and lied to for the majority of your life. You told him about the first time you left the palace walls and how it felt like you were seeing it all through someone else's eyes. How it ignited a fire within you to do whatever you could to help the people of the districts outside. Even if that meant going against your father and everything you had ever known. Even if it meant sacrificing a life that was never really yours to begin with.

You poured out your secrets to the stranger that didn't feel so much like a stranger anymore, considering the amount of time he had spent inside your head. 

At some point the two of you sat down on the ground with your backs against the wall so you could draw him a (very) loosely based map in the gravel to better explain the tunnels beneath the palace and the routes you had taken to and from the surrounding districts. Throughout your explanation, Felix remained silent, nodding occasionally to himself while staring at the ground at your feet.

You continued on, stopping only when a slender man with a dirt-covered face and tattered clothing appeared from around the corner. Felix noticeably tensed as soon as the man stumbled his way into the alley, and you saw a darkness take over his eyes that you hadn't seen in them before. He had never looked at you the way he was looking at the stranger in front of you now. 

Not when he had a knife pressed to your throat.

Not even when he realized who you were. 

You went to stand but Felix reached out to grab your sleeve, taking hold of it to stop you. He tugged lightly until you sat back down next to him against the wall. He straightened his back and moved forward slightly, putting himself just barely in between you and the stranger as he passed by. 

The hand that wasn't on your sleeve fell to the knife at his side.

Felix stayed like that. Moving nothing but his eyes as he watched the man mumble incoherently to himself, until he fully disappeared into the darkness at the other end of the alley.

The stranger was likely harmless, but the way that Felix reacted was a good reminder of how dangerous life was outside of the palace. It was a good reminder to keep your voice down when you were talking about things that could easily get you killed. 

After presumably deciding that it was safe enough to continue, Felix turned back to you. You scoured his expression for any signs of how he felt about what you had told him up to now, but you found nothing. 

He was hard to read, you'd give him that.

Just as you were about to ask him if you should continue, you felt it.

A small drop of cool rain against your cheek. Felix moved his eyes to where the delicate drop had landed. His hand twitched as if he were going to reach up and wipe it off, but you moved to swipe your sleeve across it before he could. Your faces were nearly as close as they had been the night you met, and if it weren't for the lightning that suddenly cut through the air above, you wouldn't have minded staying like that just a little longer.

But lightning is followed by thunder.

And tonight, the thunder was followed by a downpour.

You put your hands above your head which did nothing as the rain began to fall in heavy sheets. Felix stood and reached out to you, lifting his jacket with his other hand to loosely cover his own face.

"Come on, I know somewhere close we can wait it out."

You weren't given much time to debate his offer when another crack of lightning violently struck the air above. You reached for him out of instinct and he pulled you up. He linked your hand with his own as he turned and began to run. Your feet splashed through puddles that had already formed as you darted in the direction that the strange man from earlier had taken.

The alley was shorter than you expected, and when you reached the end you made a sharp left turn. The wind stung against your eyes, making it difficult to see, but you kept a tight grip on Felix as he guided you to wherever you were going. Not that you fully trusted him either, you just weren't very fond of the sporadic weather changes that plagued your world. Even behind the safety of the palace walls you had never liked the sound of thunder.

Another rumble shook the earth below your feet and you figured it was worth the risk.

Felix led you to the backside of one of the old wooden buildings that lined the empty road. There was no door but he seemed to know what he was doing as he hopped up onto the hood of what appeared to have been a car once. Half of it was missing, rusted away, which made it clear that it had been here long before either of you. 

He reached up to remove a loose board from the side of the building and it revealed an open space where a window might have been once. Felix pulled himself up through it and you followed his lead, stepping onto the hood of the vehicle. When he turned and reached down to you you grabbed onto his arm, now slick from the rain. He held you tightly and helped you up to join him.

The space inside was pitch black, briefly illuminated by short bursts of lightning through which you were able to make out a small, empty room. It looked like an attic with a square shaped area on the floor at other end of the room that appeared as if it would open if pushed from below.

Felix moved from beside you, taking a few steps to the middle of the room where he knelt down. He pulled up a loose floorboard and began to rummage through the contents inside the hidden space.

"Below us is the tavern that you like to visit."

You knew the pattern of the wood looked familiar.

"The bartender is a good man, he lets us crash here sometimes. As long as we don't draw any attention and are gone by morning."

Us.

Us as in, the other seven boys from that night?

You decided against asking, despite the growing curiosity.

Felix handed you a thin blanket to dry off with from the place where he had lifted the floorboard. You wondered if he had been here recently because of how much it smelled like him. You wrapped it around your shaking figure, trying to ignore the way it made you feel to be surrounded by his scent. 

He took off his jacket that was now covered with rainwater and pulled out a black hoodie that looked like the one he was wearing the night you met. 

Had he come here after leaving you in the alley? 

A bright streak of lightning followed by a particularly loud rumble of thunder interrupted your thoughts, causing you to jump.

Felix took note of your movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Don’t like thunder? Guess you don’t have to worry about things like that inside the palace.” He scoffed.

You ignored his comment, although you couldn't blame him for making it. 

“Look, everything I told you is the truth. There has to be something I can do to help you now that I know what it's like outside of District 9-” 

"You don’t know shit about what it's like out here, princess."

The darkness returned to his eyes as he turned to look at you from where he was kneeled down on the floor.

"You don’t know anything about us either. What if we’re not after the same things as you? What if we aren't the good guys?" 

He did have a point. But still, something told you to trust Felix. Something that you weren't really able to describe with words.

"I know enough. You risked your lives at the palace that night for whatever reason I still can't figure out, but I know you wouldn't have done that just to send a message. I saw the banners, it seems pretty clear what you're after. On top of that, you didn't hurt anyone while you were there. You easily could have, but you didn't."

"That wasn't my choice, it was Cha-“

He caught himself before going any further. You didn't blame him for not trusting you with any personal information, including that of his friends, although it did sting a little considering you had just poured out your entire life story to him.

"If it were up to me, you'd all be dead.”

You didn't believe him. You didn't quite believe that he had ever intended to hurt you tonight, either.

“Besides, if you think I'd ever be able to trust anyone with the blood that runs through your veins then you’re wasting your time. I will never be able to look at you without seeing the other side you got that?” 

He replaced the floorboard and stood, pulling the hoodie over his head. 

“That being said, its not entirely up to me. It won't change the way I see you, but I think there might be something you can help us with.”

Whatever it was, they must have been pretty desperate.

"Fuck," he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes "I don't even know your name."

"Does it matter?

"No, i guess it doesn’t.” 

Not exactly the answer you were hoping for.

You glared at each other and for a moment the only sound was the heavy rain on the rooftop above you. Felix studied your face as if he was trying to read your thoughts. Small droplets of water fell from his hair, still wet from the rain. He ran his hands through it, shaking off the excess water. You heart skipped a beat when he did it. 

When you remembered how it felt in your fingertips. 

"I just need more time," he shook his head as if it was absurd for him to even consider involving you in whatever he was thinking.

Yeah, I understand."

After taking some time to dry off, you sat in silence until the storm had noticeably died down. You had almost drifted off to sleep when Felix stirred from his own place that he'd taken on the floor.

You reached to rub the fatigue from your eyes but it did little to help. 

"I need to go, Its getting late and if I'm not back by morning.." you trailed off. He could piece together the rest.

You handed the blanket back to him and went to take a step toward the entrance when you felt his touch for the third time that night. This time it was softer, almost gentle. Like the first night after you kissed in the alley.

Before you knew what you did now about each other. 

His hand felt warm against your wrist. It didn’t help that you were still shaking from the damp clothing that clung to your body, but you wondered if the rest of him would feel just as good pressed against you. 

You weren't expecting the close proximity of his face to yours when you turned. Locking eyes, he placed the handle of his knife in your hand.

"You need it more than I do," he murmured. 

"I can't-"

"Just take it. You’re useless to us if you’re dead.” 

Did that mean he was seriously considering your offer? 

You didn’t have the energy left to argue and he had a point anyway, you probably did need it more than he did as you had been so eager to leave tonight that you'd forgotten a weapon of your own. 

You nodded and it took everything in you not to move your gaze down to his lips, especially when he ran his tongue along them. 

While staring at your own. 

God y/n just think about literally anything else. 

You needed to come up with something to say to break the tension before you did something stupid.

"Uh-y/n, my name.”

"Well y/n," 

You had never liked the sound of your own name, but there was something about the way that Felix used it that did more than make your heart skip a beat. 

"You know where to find me again, but don't wait too long," he spoke while delicately folding your fingers around the knife, "there's someone I think you should meet."

"Tomorrow." You responded, tucking the knife into your waistband.

When you jumped out through the open space in the wall, your feet landed on the earth below with a soft thud. You traced your footsteps from earlier, heading in the direction of the alley, pulling your hood up.

Fighting the urge to look back.

You nervously twirled the handle of Felix's knife in your palm as you made your way out through the tunnels below the palace once again, the air now stuffy from last night's storm. Inspecting the knife you noted traces dried blood at the edge where the blade met the handle. You wondered how it had gotten there. 

Self defense? Or something more sinister.

Had Felix been the one holding the handle?

Maybe you didn't want to know.

Not even 24 hours had passed since you'd last seen him. Having returned to the palace just before the sun began to rise this morning. It would have been difficult to keep your eyes open if it weren't for the adrenaline that kept you wide awake. 

There's someone I think you should meet.

When you contemplated who he might be bringing with him this time it made you anxious in a whole new way. If you had to guess, you'd bet all 9 districts that you'd soon be standing in front of who you’d suspected to be leading their group the night of the raid. Knowing that this new stranger would have less reason to trust you than Felix made your apprehension grow. You wondered if Felix would’ve told him about your first encounter in the alley. 

If he had, he probably would've left out a few specific details.

If he hadn't mentioned it at all then you had a feeling this new individual wouldn't be as easy to persuade as the certain freckled boy that you couldn't seem to let go of.

You didn’t understand Felix. 

He couldn’t care less about whether you lived or died. He had made that more than clear. So why did he continue to do things that made you question his intention? 

One minute he's pressing a knife to your throat and the next he's helping you find shelter from the storm, in a place that was safe to him. He said that he would never be able to trust someone like you, but he certainly acted like he did. At least a little, because if you had a sudden change of heart you could now think of three very specific places to tell your father to look for him.

One minute he’s telling you that you would already be dead if it were up to him and the next he’s calling you by a nickname that you didn’t totally hate. You would’ve hated it, if it had come from anyone else, but Felix made everything sound so sweet. 

Either way, it didn't matter how he felt about you if you couldn't even make sense of your own feelings for him. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about how his hands would feel wrapped around you, instead of the handle of a knife. How his voice would sound laced with pleasure instead of empty threats. 

You weren’t supposed to want to be the one to make him feel that way. 

Fuck. You needed to focus.

You had never left the palace two nights in a row, but there was no way in hell you were going to back out now. At least the weather appeared to have calmed down somewhat. It felt less lonely with the moon to guide you this time. 

Several miles later, you turned down the familiar path in District 7. Passing by the tavern, you noted that it was empty inside. If Felix wasn't there then you knew where to find him.

As you came up on the alley you slowed your pace to a walk, trying to calm your labored breathing. 

That’s when you heard them.

Two hushed voices engaged in what sounded like an argument. You recognized one of them right away as Felix. His tone was noticeably irritated, so you stopped to listen.

"We don’t have a choice," said avoice you hadn't heard before, but the accent was the same.

"We can try again." 

"No, we cant Felix. You know that. They'll be expecting it this time."

"I just cant believe you're actually considering this. I know we've had allies from the palace before but this is different. She's his daughter. Which means we're putting our lives in the hands of in one of them-"

"You're the one who brought this to me," the other voice cut back.

You didn't hear Felix again after that. 

Whoever was with him had a point.

You sighed out a heavy breath. With it came your pride (and all sense of sanity you had left) before you rounded the corner. 

As always, Felix found you first. 

When you turned to observe who was standing next to him, it confirmed your suspicion about which one of them had been leading the group that night.

The boy next to Felix looked a couple of years older, although not by much. He had dark brown hair that was shorter than Felix’s, with a muscular build and similar clothing. A backpack was slung around one of his shoulders and underneath light from the lantern above you could make out the faint outline of a scar embedded across the bridge of his nose. While Felix looked at you with fire in his eyes, the boy next to him exhibited an expression that was just as intimidating, but in a different way. 

You could understand how your father's guards might have been swayed by him. Even a little.

You shifted awkwardly and the older boy looked to Felix, raising an eyebrow as if asking him to confirm that it was you they had been waiting for.

"y/n, this is Chan. Our leader.“

You straightened your posture as Chan took a step toward you. 

“Felix has told me some things, but I’d like to hear them from you if that’s alright.”  He wasted no time, speaking calmly but with intent.

Even though Felix wasn't particularly pleasant at all times, his presence had become somewhat familiar. Chan on the other hand, well you knew nothing about him. You had no idea how he might react the things you had to say or the confirmation of your identity.

Still, coming here didn't feel like a mistake, and you'd had pretty good intuition up to this point.

"Now?"

You glanced to Felix who nodded, so you cleared your throat and began to give Chan a summarized version of what you had told Felix last night. There was no storm to interrupt you this time, so you spoke until you were finished and satisfied with your explanation.

“—And that's why I'm here now. Felix told me last night that there might be something I can help you with.”

Chan narrowed his eyes while contemplating your words. Your gaze naturally fell to Felix again but you quickly turned away. The last thing you needed right now was to lose focus at the sight of his jaw clenching.

"Normally I would take more time to consider making a decision as detrimental as this. But something tells me you don't have that time and honestly, neither do we. You make a compelling argument y/n."

He reached around and pulled the backpack from his shoulder. Setting it on the ground, he looked to Felix and they shared a silent word before he unzipped it.

"This is why we were there that night."

Chan reached in and pulled out an old leather bound journal with one word on the front.

Miroh.

You’d heard of it only a handful of times before. An old tale that had been around as long as the districts themselves. It told of a place called Miroh, said to be as big as the palace itself, buried miles beneath the earth at a hidden location within the 9 districts. 

Supposedly, Miroh had been created by the first generation of your family when they founded the districts, as a kind of failsafe in the event that the past were to repeat itself. Should the world be destroyed again, there would be a way for a select few to start over. It was said to hold an unimaginable number of remnants of the world before, including more weapons and supplies than even your father could want. Anything anyone could ever need, and then some. 

But it was a myth. 

Nothing more than a glorified fairytale. Told by those in the outer districts when they were desperate for some kind of hope, thinking that maybe if they could be the ones to find it they would have a chance at a better life.

You didn't want to think about the number who had died trying.

Miroh didn't exist.

"Wherever you got this, it isn't real. You're chasing something that doesn't exist..it’s a myth”

"Kind of like you were, before we met,” Felix chimed in.

Chan ignored him. He handed you the journal and you took it reluctantly, afraid of what you might find inside. 

"y/n we got this from you. From inside the palace, in your father's study.” He responded.

Sure, the handwriting did look a lot like your fathers.

But it couldn't be.

"It does exist, buried somewhere between the outer districts. This journal is a written map with explicit details on how to find it and what it holds inside. Everything we would need to turn this world upside down and create a better one. But it stops here-"

He flipped through the journal in your hands until he reached the end, where it was obvious that a number of pages had been torn out. You ran your thumb across the edges left behind.

"It leads all the way to District 2 and then it just stops. This,” Chan picked the journal up, “is worthless without the missing pages. It means nothing without knowing how to find the entrance and how to get inside once we do. Without the rest, we could wander out there forever, passing over top of it without even knowing."

“And you think the missing pages are still somewhere in my father's study?" 

"Exactly. By the time we realized that the final part of it had been torn out it was too late. We barely made it out of there as it was. We didn't have time to look for more," Chan replied.

"But you might," Felix added.

Now it made sense why he seemed so conflicted when it came to you. Of course he didn't want to trust you but they were desperate. They needed a way to get back into the palace and you were offering them up a solution on a silver platter. They would never get another chance to break into your father's study, but you passed by the door every single day without knowing what lie inside.

"Fine. Let's say Miroh does actually exist. If it did and you were somehow able to get in, assuming I can find the missing pages, you'll need more than this if you want any chance against my father."

"Let me worry about that. We just need you to help us get here,” Chan said, pointing to the cover of the journal.

You brought your hand up to rub the back of your head where Felix had thrown you against the wall last night. Out of the corner of your eye you caught him shift uncomfortably.

"I don't have much faith that I'll actually find what you're looking for but I’m willing to try, there's just one problem. My father left the palace yesterday which means his study will be locked until he returns."

He always kept the key on him at all times. No exceptions. 

Then again, Chan had found a way to get in during the raid and you were certain that your father had been in the hall the entire time.

You were just about to ask how he had done it without the key, when Felix stepped forward, raising his voice. 

"What do you mean he left?!"

"I told you he doesn't tell me anything! I have no idea where he was going. To be honest, I thought he might have found you," you gestured to the boys, "but now I know that's not the case."

"And you didn't think to tell me earlier that he was just roaming around out here hunting for us?!" 

"I'm sorry I-" you took a step back but he pushed forward.

"Felix relax." Chan put his hand out against his chest to keep him from moving any further. "She probably has a lot going on in her head right now and you aren't exactly making this easy."

Chan turned to you. 

"Maybe this'll help. He reached down into the backpack again and pulled out a small brass object that glinted in the moonlight.

A key.

Your mouth fell open.

"H-how.."

"We had a lot more people on our side, for a lot longer than you'd think y/n. A key can be duplicated, if you have the time and the means. But as I'm sure you know, our allies inside the palace gave their lives that night. Even with this it would have been impossible for us to get back inside. But now we have a second chance. We have you."

"You're seriously buying the innocent act?!" Felix interrupted yet again, but it was mostly just for show. All three of you, including him, knew that you were their last hope. After all, he was the one that brought you to Chan. He wouldn't have done that if he hadn't already accepted that they needed your help. He wouldn't have gone to the tavern every night after the raid in the hopes of finding you there if he didn't have a feeling that you were meant to be more to him than just a secret.

"What choice do we have?" Chan turned to him as you reached out to take the key.

The future of the 9 districts rested on the small piece of metal and whether or not you would be able to successfully find the missing pages of the journal. It also offered complete control of your future, which was beginning to outweigh every doubt in your mind.

With the key came a life changing decision. 

It weighed heavy in your palm. 

Felix hadn't spoken again last night after questioning you about where your father had gone. Instead, he opted to sulk in the shadows while you finished discussing things with Chan. You really had meant to tell him about your father sooner, but you’d developed a dangerous habit of losing your thoughts when he was near. 

It still made you a bit uneasy that your father was out there somewhere, but at least the boys were aware now.

You might never be able to convince Felix that your intentions really were in their best interest, but there was a chance you could prove yourself to Chan.

You remained apprehensive that the key he had given you would work, until the moment that you pushed it into the lock to your father’s study and it fit perfectly. As if it really was hand-crafted for the space. You couldn't help as the corners of your mouth lifted slightly when you turned it and heard a soft click.

Taking one last glance down the corridor to ensure that it was clear, you pushed the heavy door open with the weight of your body.

The room was frozen in time, waiting for your father to return. You needed to be careful to leave everything exactly as you found it, which made the task of finding a small object in a cluttered space seem even more impossible. Like you told Chan, you had very little faith that you would actually find what they were looking for, but you had to try.  

You lit a small candle and started flipping through books, feeling for hidden spaces underneath the desk and along the walls, rummaging through cabinet drawers. You searched over and over again in the same places for what felt like hours. You even pulled down a map of the Inner Circle and a (rather pretentious) self portrait of your father from the wall, as if you would find some secret compartment behind them. 

Nothing.

You chewed on your lip, running your hands through your hair to remove it from your forehead that was now sticky with sweat.

Come on y/n. 

If your father had been paranoid enough to tear out the final pages of the journal to hide them in this room, where would he put them?

Where else hadn't you looked?!

You thought of Felix. After you found shelter from the storm in the tavern, he had lifted a floorboard to reveal a hidden space underneath that held his belongings.  

You thought of Miroh itself, supposedly buried miles below the earth's surface. 

How ridiculous it sounded. 

Until..

You looked down to the palace floor, made up of individual stone tiles, no bigger than the size of your hand.

Maybe the answer was beneath your feet.

Frantically, you knelt down and began pushing on each and every stone that made up the floor. You traced along the perimeter of the room before carefully making your way inward, ensuring that your hands came into contact with each and every piece. When you made it to the middle of the room, you followed around the desk.

After making your way around the entire room a second time, you stepped back. 

You were beginning to come to terms with the fact that you might have to return to the boys empty handed, when you realized there was one spot you’d forgotten. Right there in front of your face.

You bent and secured both hands on one side of the desk. it was almost too heavy for you and it made a scraping sound against the floor as it moved, but you were too desperate at this point to care. You pushed it until the entire area that had been underneath it was revealed. Falling to your knees again, you pulled on every single inch of the floor. Frustrated tears began to well in your eyes and you crashed your fist down on the ground.

It took a moment for you to process that it had shifted underneath the force of your hand. 

You sucked in a shaky breath before trying again, to confirm that you hadn’t just imagined it.

It was barely noticeable but when your fist came into to contact with the tile below for a second time, it moved again. 

It moved.

You put your head up, scouring the room for anything that you could use to lift the stone when you remembered that you still had Felix’s knife. Pulling it out, you wedged it between the tile and the space underneath it.

You lifted it just enough to get a glimpse of what lie underneath. A small bundle of papers wrapped in a thin red string. 

It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. Well, second to a certain freckled boy who just might end up changing his mind about you after all. 

You squeezed your hand in and pulled out the bundle of papers, quickly untying the string. Your heart felt as if it might actually explode out of your chest when you unrolled them and began to read. 

It was all there, just as Chan had said. You skimmed the pages with the final instructions, leading directly to the entrance of Miroh. Somewhere along the border between District 2 and District 1. 

He was right. It really did exist.

You skipped to the final page, noting that it appeared to be much more weathered than the others. It described that once Miroh was found and the entranced was unearthed, access to the riches held inside would only be available to those by means of a blood lock.

A what.

You flipped it over to reveal a poorly drawn diagram that resembled the outline of a hand with intricate lines drawn inside. The margins of the page were filled with scribbled notes and arrows, all in your father's handwriting.

Underneath the diagram were the words:

Blood lock.

Only to be opened by those with blood from the founding family.

Underneath the note you found two more words. Specifically, two names. 

Your father's own name and-

Yours.

Your head was spinning and you needed to sit back against the desk to stay upright as the room began to close in on you. 

You had been shocked when you found out the truth about the 9 districts but this?! This was something else entirely.

If it was true, the information that you had gathered from the crumpled sheet in your hands meant that the entrance to Miroh could only be opened with the blood from a member of the family that had founded the districts.

Your family. And there were only two living members left in your direct bloodline. 

The realization came crashing down onto you at once. 

Why you had been kept hidden for your entire life. 

Why your father was so adamant on leaving this time. If there was something he wanted from Miroh then he had to be there in person to open the lock. 

The scar on his hand, that had been there for as long as you could remember. A physical reminder of the price to gain access to whatever lie within.

It all made sense now. 

You dropped the pages from your shaking hands. It didn’t matter if Chan and the others could make it there if their only chance of getting inside was with your father’s blood or yours. Seeing as the former was virtually impossible, it meant only one thing. 

They didn't just need you to find the missing pages so that they could get to Miroh

They needed you to get inside. 

Before parting ways last night, you and the boys agreed that the next time you met would be in the room above the tavern. It was arguably much safer than discussing things out in the open, even if the alley wasn't exactly swarming with traffic. Better safe than sorry, as Chan put it.

All of your senses were heightened as you hurried through the alley. When the backside of the tavern came into view, you noticed that the panel had already been removed to reveal the entrance. It meant that the boys were already inside, and your heart pounded even faster when you thought of how Felix would react when he saw what you were carrying with you.

Just like he had done before, you jumped onto the hood of the car and reached up to the opening. It was considerably more difficult to do on your own, but you were able to pull yourself up just enough for Chan to notice your arrival. He came to help you the rest of the way through.  

"Thanks,” you exhaled the word out, still catching your breath. 

The atmosphere inside felt different than you had been expecting. Quickly taking a glance around, you realized that something, or rather someone, was missing.

Chan must have taken note of your eyes scanning the room because of what he said to break the silence.

"Felix isn't coming, he had something to take care of."

"Oh I wasn't uh..Here—" looking for any excuse you could to change the subject (and distract yourself from the sudden involuntary feeling of disappointment that washed over you), you pulled the bundle of papers from your pocket. 

You held them out to Chan and when his eyes fell to them his face lit up so bright that it could have illuminated the entire room. 

"y/n this is....Is it all here?" his voice dropped to a whisper.

You nodded and he shook his head in complete and utter disbelief.

"You have no idea what this means. Not only for us but for everyone out there. This changes everything."

“There’s more.”

You took out the final sheet with the information regarding the blood lock. Once Chan read it he would know that you were the key they needed to get into Miroh. Which meant that you would no longer have a choice. You would be solidifying your decision, picking a side. 

You did it anyway, handing it over to him. Ultimately sealing your own fate.

Chan skimmed over the page once and then again more closely. His eyes darted back and forth across the lines as he processed the information. You watched as the understanding crept its way onto his face.

When he was finished, he put down the page and slowly turned his head to look up at you. He was the first person in a very long time, maybe ever, to look at you like you had something to offer. 

It was then you decided that you liked Chan. 

After a serious conversation with Chan about the blood lock and what it meant for the future, you agreed to meet again in a couple of days while you still could before your father returned. He needed time to inform the others of the bombshell you had just presented him with and you were more than agreeable. You were looking forward to getting some real sleep because, despite the fact that your future was more uncertain now than it ever had been, you felt more at peace than you had in a very long time. You felt a sense of purpose. Something you hadn’t been familiar with until now. 

Before Chan left, he told you that you were more than welcome to stay and rest a little while longer and you gladly took him up on the offer.

You hadn't intended on falling asleep, but when you opened your eyes again you weren't exactly sure how much time had passed. The darkness was still thick which meant that thankfully it hadn't been too long. You just couldn't afford to make the mistake of falling asleep again.

As soon as you sat up to stretch your aching muscles, the floorboards creaked at the other end of the room. Your head instantly shot up from your hands.

"Don't you have somewhere else to sleep? Like an actual bed in the palace."

A voice from the darkness. You couldn’t see who it belonged to but you knew. Like always, you knew. 

"I ran into Chan on the way here and I almost didn't believe him. Until I saw it myself."

Felix stepped out into the moonlight that shined through the open entry space. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. 

It was then that you saw it. Even through the shadows, a deep bruise to his left cheek was visible. It spread to the area surrounding his eye, there was a cut at the corner of his lower lip, and a poorly wrapped cloth covering his right hand.

The sight of his bruised face made your chest tighten. It must have been the result of whatever had caused him to miss your meeting earlier. 

Not that you cared, you just..hoped it didn’t hurt as much as it looked.

It was you that approached him first. Handing him back his knife, you lifted your shirt slightly to reveal your own weapon hidden underneath.

“I was just leaving.”

You tried to fight the urge to gently run your fingers over the bruise painted across his skin. You really tried. But the way he leaned his head against the wall and looked at you was almost as if he were inviting you to do it. 

Small movement drew your attention to where he was fiddling with the cloth in his hand. 

Knowing you shouldn't, you reached down to take his hand into your own. 

Surprisingly, he let you. 

You unraveled the cloth to reveal a set of very bloody knuckles. As delicately as you could, you properly wrapped it around them, tying a tight knot at the end. 

Maybe you cared a little. 

And how incredibly selfish the thoughts that ran through your head were. It was wrong to care about him, even briefly, for the simple fact that it put him in danger. It was dangerous for him, and for Chan, and for everyone they cared about. 

Unfortunately for them, it was in your blood to make the wrong decisions.

Reaching up, you ghosted the very tips of your fingers along the outline of the bruise. His gaze dropped to your lips for a moment before he put a sudden stop to your movement, taking your wrist in his uninjured hand and holding it there as your fingers curled away from his skin. He lifted your chin, stepping away from the wall and forcing you to meet his eyes. 

"I don’t know what game you’re playing but if this is all some sick joke..If one of them gets hurt, I'll kill you myself.”

He leaned in closer, and when his hair brushed the bare skin of your neck you felt something stir inside your core. 

“Every choice comes at a cost, princess."

And then, Felix let go of your wrist and did something you never could have expected. He turned your head and closed the space between your lips. This time was different from the first when it had been rushed between strangers, and although you had felt something then too, there was more behind it now. 

More at stake, maybe, because the very reasons why you couldn't have him were what made you want him most.  They kept you from hating him no matter how hard you tried. And judging by the way he pressed his lips onto yours, Felix felt the same. 

You ran your tongue along the cut on his lip. 

Every choice comes at a cost.

He pressed his body into yours, rough hands pulling you in by the waist. Your own hands found themselves inside his open jacket, trailing all the way up his defined abdomen. Without breaking the kiss, you helped him to shake off the useless layer of clothing.

Felix was right. Every choice does come with a cost, and you had a feeling things were about to get very expensive. 

Part 3

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix au #felix au #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids au #skz au #skz fanfiction #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #skz angst #lee felix angst

[captinryker]

The basics of the old money aesthetic

So, you need a guide to the old money aesthetic? Whether you see it as your soon-to-be lifestyle or just the way you want to dress? Well, I can totally help you with that but you should understand the basics.

The old money aesthetic is characterized with ideas of prestige families that have had money for decades. when you think of old money you have to take it quite literally, old. Money. Think of the oil tycoons are people who made weaponry in wars or people who have had government connections their whole life and lineage. That is old money .

There are multiple ways of showing old money through specific aesthetics. Each built to showcase a different type of family in a different type of wealth.

Academia

Think of private school, boarding school, etiquette class, coffee early in the morning, straight A’s, library dates, afterschool cafés, School in London, working to please your family. But in the fashion aspect of it all it is truly beautiful but also quite warm. When you think of Old Money academia fashion you will see sweaters, plaid, hounds tooth fabric and Chanel but most important, a bunch of uniforms.

Glamour

Yes, the glitz, glam, silk, satin, purses, dior and gold of it all. The glam look is for the dainty folk. Men included! Clean silhouettes, fresh off the run way clothes and NEVER a sneaker in sight. Glam old money is almost new money in terms of dressing. Switch out slutty for seductive and neons for royal colors.

Old Money Abroad

This is one for the traveling folks! Also kinda for the lazy ones. The old money abroad look is a little more relaxed yet still ready for anything. The cafe life, trying new things, looking around at the scenery and also conveniently renting out a gorgeous house on The countryside with two of your closest friends for 4k a night.

#black girls who blog #black women in femininity #feminine #moodboard #black femininity #high fashion #hypergamous #hypergamous lifestyle #hypergamy #fashion inspo #old money #old money aesthetic #fashion guide #styleinspiration #style guide #how to look expensive on a budget

[satoshi-mochida]

Metaphor: ReFantazio launches in fall 2024

Gematsu Source

Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, and PC via Steam and Microsoft Store in fall 2024, publisher ATLUS and developer Studio Zero announced.

Get the latest details below.

In the TGA trailer titled, “The Royal Tournament,” ATLUS announced that their highly anticipated fantasy RPG Metaphor: ReFantazio will launch in Fall 2024. The trailer features new gameplay scenes, an introduction to the story and fantasy setting, and notes members of the team:

Director – Katsura Hashino (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Character Designer – Shigenori Soejima (Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Composer – Shoji Meguro (Shin Megami Tensei III: Nocturne, Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5)

Concept Artist – Koda Kazuma (Notable Work: NieR:Automata)

Mechanical Designer – Ikuto Yamashita (Notable Work: Neon Genesis Evangelion)

Additionally, ATLUS will host a special YouTube live broadcast in Japan (Japanese language only) for the game on December 11 at 8:30pm JST / 3:30am PST, that will feature guests from the Japanese VA cast including Natsuki Hanae as Protagonist, Sumire Morohoshi as Gallica, Kensho Ono as Strohl, and Saori Hayami as Hulkenberg.

Story

Our story takes place in The United Kingdom of Euchronia, where the assassination of the king brings chaos and unrest to the land. Then, one fateful day, a magic known only to the king called the Royal Magic is invoked, and the world becomes embroiled in a royal tournament for the throne. In the midst of this, the protagonist, together with his partner, the fairy Galica, must find a way to break the curse that has been placed on the prince that the kingdom believes to be dead. To do so, they depart on a journey across the vast land. They will discover that in order to achieve their goal, they must participate in the tournament for the throne, and this great task shall require them to ally with many friends and followers of the various tribes inhabiting the world.

Protagonist

Together with the fairy, Galica, he embarks on a journey to lift the deadly curse placed on his childhood friend, the prince of Euchronia. He is a boy of the elda tribe, branded as a “”tainted”” people by the state religion who believe they have inherited dangerous and heretical magic. Being so rare among the populous, they are detested and discriminated against throughout the kingdom.”

Gallica

Not only a traveling companion, Gallica is the guide who helps the protagonist carry out his mission to save the prince. Although she is too small to participate in battles, her knowledge of magic and ability to sense magla is superior to the protagonist due to her fairy nature. She doesn’t mince words, but she is a reassuring ally on his journey.

Strohl

He is a young man of the clemar tribe who meets the protagonist in the recruitment centre for the State Army. A smart young man with a strong sense of justice, he hails from a noble family. And yet, it seems his circumstances are complicated, as it is rare for a noble to enlist in the army alongside commoners.

Hulkenberg

A knight of the roussainte tribe and former member of the royal family’s Kingsguard who served by the prince’s side. Despite her young age, she excelled in the use of various weaponry, and was assigned to the personal guard of the prince. But when the prince was attacked, she failed to protect him and set out to wander, carrying the stigma of this failure in her heart.

Heismay

A former knight of the eugief tribe. He has acute perception compared to most others, due in part to the eugief trait of being sensitive to sound. With an appearance that differs greatly from other tribes, it’s not uncommon for eugiefs to be discriminated against—and it seems Heismay is no exception, his past his own burden to bear.

New Concept Art

Journey through a vast and magnificent fantasy world. Explore the game alongside an intuitive and beautiful UI that elevates the experience. (Get an exciting sneak peek of the look of Metaphor: ReFantazio with new concept art pieces).

Watch the latest trailer below.

The Royal Tournament Trailer

English

Japanese

#Metaphor: ReFantazio #Atlus #Studio Zero #RPG #PS4 #PS5 #Xbox Series #Steam #Gematsu #Youtube

[panda-writes-kpop]

Monster Hunter! Reader x Minstrel! Siyeon - Toss A Coin

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! Hope you all are well! 😌 made this for my favorite Siyeon simps <3 @foolish-sparrow @neon-city-dreams and the fact that I watched The Witcher on Netflix with my family.

TW: Alcohol, blood, weaponry (knives), lots of mutual teasing and flirting, open ending(?)

Summary: A fateful meeting leads you to the flirtatious Siyeon, who manages to melt your cold heart. Luckily, she's been looking for someone who likes a bit of banter and who will withstand her teasing.

♡ Masterlist ♡

As far as Siyeon was considered, her small bar-side minstrel gig had all the perks she needed: free drinks and food, paying customers, and lots and lots of pretty people to please.

Siyeon takes another sip of soju before wiping her lips and eyeing the guitar at her side. She's done no playing or singing tonight, yet she's earned a few rounds of drinks to enjoy along with some… interesting company.

The man next to her babbles on about some, to put it frankly, an unimportant topic that Siyeon will admit that she is not listening to. He attempted to put an arm around her, but after Siyeon expressed her disinterest, he immediately backed off and went back to the peaceful conversation.

"Hey, do you want to-"

Siyeon holds out a hand to shush the man next to her.

"Sorry, I have a gig to perform for a bit. I have to earn those drinks, you know?"

Siyeon sends a wink and warm smile to him, and once the man turns to the bartender, the smile comes clean off of her face. She grabs the guitar and strums a few strings while humming a simple tune. A cheer comes from a nearby table, and a genuine smile appears on Siyeon's face.

Siyeon stands up, and she feels more eyes settle on her. Even after this, the nerves fade away in the wake of the adrenaline. A loud laugh comes from her soft lips before she jumps onto a tabletop nearby.

More cheers and jeers erupt as Siyeon lets herself go. This is her element, and a makeshift stage is where she belongs.

Playing the guitar becomes automatic as the lyrics that she wrote just flow from her mouth. The rush, the high, and the way that she feels right now are something that cannot be replaced, not ever.

No romance will ever compare to the feeling that she has when she's doing what she loves. Not one person could ever give her the same desire to chase after that high time after time.

The thoughts race by like a stampede of frantic cattle as Siyeon finishes performing the last song. Everyone cheers, just like always. People reach out and congratulate her, just like always.

Not like always, she notes, that there is one person in the tavern who isn't cheering or congratulating her. They're not even making eye contact with her, yet Siyeon is intrigued by them. She's had her fair share of tomatoes and hecklers, but complete disinterest is something foreign to Siyeon.

Nothing is stopping her from turning away from that person and forgetting them as she parties the night away with her supporters, yet she wants to know who they are, and more importantly, why they would turn away from her?

Siyeon grabs a pair of drinks that are offered in the sea of people coming towards her, and she waves away or ignores the rest of them.

Something tells her that this person, whoever they are, will finally end the chase that she's been pursuing from such a young age.

~

Why can't I walk into a normal tavern?

You clean your bloodied knife with a towel that a hesitant bartender handed to you. After ordering the cheapest whiskey on the menu, you throw some spare coins on the table before taking a load off in the back corner of the tavern.

Luckily for you, the many scars and weapons lining your body makes you very unapproachable to most, and you appreciate that you get to be left alone for once.

The bounty was good money, especially for one on a werewolf. Usually, werewolves ended up being on the low end of bounties, but this one had a pretty penny on its end.

Unfortunately for you, the reason why that bounty was so high could be seen with the deep cut on your shoulder. You had cleaned and bandaged the weapon, but you were too lazy to change shirts. The ripped, tattered shirt could survive at least one or two more bounties, you figured. Your usual tailor was out of town as well, so you didn't have much of a choice in the matter as well.

JiU didn't ask about where the money came from or why your clothing was consistently covered in blood, but she made clothes that fit you well. You paid well, so there was no reason for her to ask questions in the first place.

You look up from your knife as a barmaid approaches your table with a sweet smile on her face. Once she spots the weapon in your hand, the smile on her face disappears.

"Here'syourdrink!" She squeaks out before setting the drink down, grabbing the coins, and quickly running away from you.

You chuckle before downing the small glass of whiskey. You like the way it burns as it travels down your throat since it distracts from the pain in your shoulder.

You like the quiet atmosphere that this tavern appears to have. It has a certain buzz that comes naturally to social gathering places, but no one was being too loud.

Well, that's how it was supposed to be, until a black-haired woman jumped onto a nearby table. With a guitar in hand, the bar begins to cheer as you roll your eyes.

Another drunken buffoon trying to get some coin without using any actual skills.

You notice that you're gripping the knife a little too tightly, so you quickly place it back with the rest of your knives before glancing over to the woman again.

She's started to sing, and her voice would sound angelic and perfect if you cared to hear what she was singing about.

You were busy and had things to do. You wanted one peaceful night with a few drinks to drown your pain in. Was that too much to ask for?

You just grumble to yourself until that annoying woman shuts her mouth, and of course, that is when the whole tavern erupts with laughter, cheering, and lots of loud talking.

You deeply sigh before playing with the bloody cloth in your hand.

Maybe this will continue to keep people away from me.

Everyone turns to congratulate and sweet talk the female minstrel, and you really couldn't care until you feel her eyes on you.

You've had a keen sense of when you're being watched as it's saved your ass on multiple occasions. Her eyes are no different, but they aren't predatory or in anger.

It's a look of curiosity, to put it simply. She's curious about you for God-knows-what reason, but you don't want to explore that cesspool of emotions and late night talking tonight.

One drink was enough for tonight, you reasoned with yourself. That's why you tried to leave, but you were trapped by the crowd that was just dying to see that stupid minstrel.

Well, isn't this just great!

~

"Hey~" Siyeon saddles up to the stranger's side while ignoring their clear-as-day unamused facial expression.

"Not interested in harlots." They grumble, which causes Siyeon to scoff.

"I am not a harlot! I have as much class as it takes to get me through the day."

"Yeah, it shows."

They try to push past Siyeon, but she won't let it happen.

Why won't you let me talk to you? Are you scared of what might happen… perhaps you'll fall in love with me?

"I'll pay for a drink if you'll sit and chat with me, even if for a moment," Siyeon begs before grabbing their arm.

The stranger cocks their eyebrow before sighing deeply.

"I like whiskey." They mutter before taking a seat at a nearby booth.

"What kind? There's lot to choose from, like-"

"The stronger, the better."

"Okay then…" Siyeon awkwardly stares off to the side before waving a barmaid over. "Two drinks, if you would. Whiskey for them, soju for me."

The barmaid nods before scurrying off, and Siyeon hears you scoff while relaxing into the cushion of the booth.

"She ran away because she was scared of me."

Siyeon curiously glances at you before shaking your head.

"I'm sure that's not the-"

You carelessly toss a knife on the table, which causes Siyeon to jump back in her seat.

"See? You're scared too."

"No, it's not like that-"

"You don't need to lie to me." For once, the intriguing stranger's eyes soften before becoming firm once again. "I can handle the truth, given what I do for a living."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a monster hunter. A better one, if I may say, since I'm not dead yet."

Siyeon tries her best not to snort while laughing.

"You amuse me…" She trails off while trying to catch your name.

"Yeah, you're not getting a name out of me, Siyeon."

"Yah! You know my name. That's not fair." A slight whine comes from her lips, and a slight smile appears on yours as Siyeon tries not to pout.

"Okay, okay… Y/N. That's my name, don't abuse it."

"Y/N, huh…" She repeats the name.

I like the way it rolls off of my tongue.

"What, you don't like it?" You tease as Siyeon sighs.

"No, I think it fits you."

"I sure hope it does, you know, since it's my name and all."

Siyeon laughs again.

"I like your sense of humor."

"Really? People think I can be dry at times… I'm glad to have your words to prove them wrong." They say as the barmaid quickly walks over.

She drops off Siyeon's order before moving to another table.

"Shall we drink?" Siyeon grabs her glass before sliding yours to you.

"Eh, why not?"

~

"You're going, Y/N? Is it your bedtime already?" Siyeon's comment annoys you, but her teasing isn't completely unwanted.

"No, I just have more important things to be doing, like not talking with you "

"Ouch, Y/N. Oh, how you wound me!" Siyeon dramatically places a hand over her heart, and you scoff before sliding out of the booth.

"Get used to it. I either stab people with my knives or my words. If I were you, I'd accept the rudeness." You calmly say as she stiffens up.

"You were going to stab me?"

"It depended on what you were going to try." You admit as Siyeon gasps.

"For the last time, I am not a harlot-"

"That's not what I meant, Siyeon, and I think you know that." You grumble.

"Oh, then what was on your mind, then? It probably was me~"

You feel your face heat up, but you refuse to give this flirt the satisfaction of knowing that her teasing and overall warmth melt your cold exterior.

"That's not… the case. Not at all. I think you're just fine."

"Lots of people think I'm fine. You'll have to say a more creative compliment if you want to capture my heart, my dear Y/N~"

"Is your head always so far up your ass, or am I getting to see a special side of the infamous Siyeon?" You joke as Siyeon tries to not spit out her drink.

"Infamous? Me?"

"Don't play coy with me, you flirtatious minx." You blatantly say. "I know all about you. I've heard stories from the tailor in town, along with a few of my monster-hunting friends. You've got a reputation that you… know how to play people as easily as you play that guitar."

"Why's that so important to you?" Siyeon softly asks, and you shake your head.

"I… hate to admit it, but I need your help. You're much more charming and beloved than I am. There's this person that I need information out of… but they are extremely hard to get a hold of. Luckily for me, she responds well to beautiful women."

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"...Besides the point, but yes, I do."

"What's her name, and where do I need to meet you?"

"Wait, you want to do th-"

Siyeon interrupts you by placing a hand on yours.

"There's something different about you. I knew it when I laid my eyes on you."

"Oh Siyeon, you say that to everyone."

"You're not everyone, though, and that's what makes you so great." She offers you a warm smile, and you don't think that you can fall any further for her charms. "Once again, I will ask you for her name, and where I need to meet you."

"Sana…. And we should meet outside of this bar in three days." You quickly say before pulling your hand away from hers.

"What about your clothing? You're not going when you look like that, right?"

"The tailor's out of town. What am I-"

"-I know someone who can help. JiU has an apprentice, you know?"

You cross your arms and stare at Siyeon curiously.

"Who would that be, exactly?"

~

Who did Siyeon send me to, and why does she look like a child?

The young tailor's youthful features and kind smile tell you that she has no idea who the fuck you are, and what you do.

So JiU hasn't told her anything… that's good.

"Excuse me, but you're JiU's apprentice, right?" You gently ask, and she excitedly nods.

"In the blood and flesh. You can call me Gahyeon because it's weird for people to call me JiU's apprentice. It feels too formal for what I do."

You nod in acknowledgment.

"I'll make note of it."

"So, what brings you to our humble store, then?"

"I need some new clothes."

"....What kind of clothes?"

You toss the torn shirt on the counter, and Gahyeon analyzes the shirt with horrified curiosity.

"Something that'll prevent this from happening again."

"Got it!" Gahyeon says as you throw a bag of money on the counter. "That's way more money than I need, you know."

"It's not just for the shirt."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't ask any more questions, and the money's yours."

"Oh, okay…" Gahyeon scoops up the money, and she heads to the back of the store. "It'll be done in a day or two!"

~

"Look what the cat dragged in…" Siyeon taunts you as you take a seat next to her at the bar. "How'd it go with Gahyeon?"

"She didn't ask many questions, so I would say that it went well."

"Really? Gahyeon usually doesn't shut up when I come in."

"To be fair, you're not exactly quiet either."

"I would be offended by that, but you're cute, so I guess I can let it go." Siyeon shrugs before sliding over a shot of whiskey. "I got you some whiskey. You're welcome, by the way."

"Wasn't going to say thank you anyway." You quickly take the shot before continuing to talk with Siyeon. "Can I have some rum?"

"Of course, anything for you." She winks, and you hide your embarrassment as she chuckles. "You're really cute, considering that you could easily kill me if you wanted to."

"Don't tempt me, Siyeon." You mutter as she hands the shot glass to the bartender.

"I'm surprised you came and sat with me at the bar. I thought you preferred sitting in the back."

"I did, but then someone came and changed me." You say as the bartender sets the shot of rum on the counter.

"Oh, and who would that be?"

"I'm not stroking your ego, Siyeon." You roll your eyes before drinking the rum.

"Aww, so it was me! I appreciate the sentiment." She smiles, and you shake your head.

"I know you tease me about acting differently than I look, but you're much nicer than I thought you would be." You shyly admit as Siyeon blushes.

"I'm honored that you think so highly of me, Y/N." Siyeon softly says.

"That sentiment goes both ways." You confirm, and Siyeon chuckles.

"So… you want to get out of here?" Siyeon asks, and your eyes widen. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that-"

"A midnight walk sounds fantastic. Maybe I can tell you about Sana, and you can tell me some more about yourself."

"If I didn't know you better, Y/N, I'd say you were trying to flirt with me." Siyeon chuckles to herself, but you're deadly serious.

"Maybe I am." You mutter under your breath.

"Ah-ha! You are so much different than you seem. I like this part of you, but honestly, I just like you, Y/N."

"I like you too, Siyeon. Much more than I ever should."

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