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#hex-hop
blackboysrock · 2 years
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Marcel Hicks • Jersey City
Cardigan: Boohoo Men
Green Cargo Pants: mnml.la
hex-hop.tumblr.com
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hex-hop · 2 years
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scover-va · 1 year
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How cat like is Jeremiah (If the sentence makes any sense)
It makes perfect sense dw. On a scale of 1-10 hes ranked a 12
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abdoulmorad · 10 months
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radioconstructed · 1 year
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⌖ Hm... ask me questions!
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cosmicskittlez · 2 years
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pray tell but why was the lion king the remake that got to come out in theaters when the pinocchio remake is leagues better the animals look expressive while still looking semi realistic, the casting is on point, the humor feels exactly like the original, and the main character not only looks like part of the world they reside in but also like the original character, not to mention the settings look stellar!
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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 8 months
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reader pronouns: she/her
"Alright. All done," Denise said, carefully snipping the thread close to the last stitch she'd placed near Daryl's shoulder. "You're all set. Now do me a favor and don't rip through these, keep them dry, and don't do anything reckless for at least two weeks," she begged him.
Daryl was fingering a hex nut on a long, thin strip of cording around his neck but quickly started pulling his shirt back on. "Can't make any promises," he drawled, causing Denise to roll her eyes.
"What is that, by the way?" she asked him, nodding toward the unusual necklace. "I've never seen that before."
It disappeared beneath Daryl's black shirt as he buttoned it up but a small smile touched his lips and his eyes were soft. "S'just somethin' Y/N gave me for our—our anniversary, I guess. When I first met her, she came by Aaron's when I was workin' in the garage. She was lookin' for a hex nut to repair her bicycle," he laughed. "Bike didn't last much longer after that, long story. But she took the damn nut off and kept it for some fuckin' reason, maybe because she already knew that we'd be... somethin'. She knew way before my dumb ass figured it out. Anyway, she gave it back to me and said it's because I hold her together. Makes sense, 'cause she holds me together too."
Denise smiled fondly at Daryl. "I'm glad you two found each other."
Daryl hopped off the edge of the gurney he'd been sitting on and smiled. "Me too. And tha's the understatement of the century."
Requested by: anon!
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dedsec-pony · 3 months
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I had the opportunity to design and illustrate unique character sprites (and UI icons, and The Logo, and the key art) for the Hat in Time Jam Mod, Hat Kid in Cinema Labyrinth! I have Some Commentary about it below.
This is also like, the debut for Team Purple, lol.
My main art style inspiration for these sprites is the little promotional chibis for Limbus Company! It was a blast trying to emulate the style while adding my own flair to it.
For the logo and the hex status effect icon, I actually tried affinity designer for iPad for the first time as I was looking for a alternative way to do vector art on iPad. and I got too lazy/busy to hop on my pc to do these icons and the logo
As for the poster, it's definitely based on Persona Q2's cover art mixed with Old movie posters (but specifically the one for Yötön Yö in Alan Wake 2, because of course it is)
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lucid-loves · 2 months
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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 8
Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)
Word Count: 5k
CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU
Let me know if I missed any CWs.
Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction. 
Chapter Synopsis: You’ve arrived in Paris and have successfully infiltrated the catacombs. However, things take an unexpected turn for the best and worst.
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10
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The train approached the station right on time, the brakes smoothing out right onto the platform. By now, the train station was busy with people. It wouldn’t be hard to lose someone within the crowd. That was why it was so important to tag the targets instead of relying on eyesight alone. 
From a suitable distance, the 141 tailed Makarov’s men, making sure to blend in when necessary. It wasn’t hard to look like one of the many groups of tourists in Paris. An odd group, but a group nonetheless. Soon enough, you halted the chase, allowing the targets to head to their destination. If you followed them all the way to their secret entrance, you all would be spotted immediately. For now, it was wise to head to a hotel spot nearby and track the targets by computer. The men weren’t used to hotel hopping so much. According to you, it was much less conspicuous to stay in a hotel rather than a guarded building on behalf of the United States government. 
Not that they were complaining. They were grateful to have comfortable beds while on a mission. There were many, many missions that required them to sleep on the ground. Sometimes they didn’t have sleeping bags or cots with them. The actual beds have led to most of them getting better rest than normal.
This hotel looked just about the same as the last one. Pretty generic, clean, and only local art on the walls that looked similar to the many artists on the streets. The room pairing was the same as well. Soap and Ghost in a room, Price and Gaz in the other, and one all to yourself. You didn’t mind bunking with any of them if it was necessary. Right now, it just wasn’t.
Ghost was a little disappointed that you didn’t invite him to stay with you, but he wasn’t surprised. Admittedly, a part of him did love the chase. He also had a new motivation when it came to you. Complete the mission and convince you to stay. He knew that you were wavering when it came to the possibility of going back off the grid after everything was over. While he wasn’t sure what you would end up doing if you decided to stick with him, he didn’t care. He just wanted you by his side.
Perhaps if you could see how capable he was during the final stages of the mission, you would.
You all sat in a bedroom, carefully tracking the targets and their luggage. On a large map, Gaz began to trace the trail for Paris on the surface. Price was going through local cameras as well to determine their secret entrance. Soap was looking at a laptop that kept track of them with red dots. All of it took coordination and relying on each other. When it came down to it, the 141 was like a well-oiled machine.
As soon as Gaz noticed that the tracking route didn’t match the Paris roads and Price lost sight, Ghost and you began tracking the targets on a different map. A massive map of the catacombs. When men went one way while the luggage went the other, you both picked out a focus and traced them on the map. The targets went deeper into the catacombs each minute, amplifying just how dangerous this mission was going to be.
The targets were far from where tourists were allowed to be. It seemed like they were venturing into parts that haven’t even been discovered yet. If the 141 wasn’t careful, they could get lost or die. Whichever came last.  
The team spent hours mapping it all out. By the time you all had a better grip on the labyrinth layout, it was nightfall. 
You’ve skipped lunch with the team in order to memorize the route. Worst case scenarios, you lose light or lose the map. Memorizing the routes could save you if the worst happened. It took you a long time, though. By the time you did, you were starving for dinner.
Thankfully, Simon saved a room service plate for you. He didn’t like the fact that you skipped lunch, but he decided it wasn’t worth the fight. All that mattered was that you had something in your stomach for dinner. Not that you were completely engrossed in your meal to really enjoy it, though.
During dinner, you went over the plan with the team. It was proving to be much too dangerous to have all of you enter the maze of bones. There needed to be backup on the surface. It was finally decided that you, Ghost, and Gaz would go into the labyrinth while Price and Soap tracked you from above. Before leaving, you would plant trackers on yourselves. Then, after entering the maze, Ghost and Gaz would separate from you to head to a different part of the catacombs for standby. You would follow the target route, refine the map with new discoveries, and find Makarov to assassinate him. 
If Makarov wasn’t there, you would call him there. However, that meant spending a night underground. 
As everyone geared up in their rooms, you sat alone in yours. You’ve never been nervous about a mission before. You have always kept your cool, confident that you would be able to finish the job no matter what happened. In and out. Undetected. The fear of death never even had you anxious. Now? Now it was different. There were actually many things on the line for you. Too much at stake to make any mistakes.
There was a soft knock on your door before it opened up. Simon stood in his full gear. Bulletproof vest, helmet, boots. Everything that told the world that he was a soldier. As much as you wanted to admire it, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, your gaze focused on your twiddling thumbs.
“Hey, you alright?” He came closer, kneeling in front of you to see your face better. Having you be nervous was making him nervous. What could possibly have you, the greatest assassin in the world, rattled?
In response, you shook your head. “I never feared death because I never had a life. It’s different now.”
“Oh. . . Hex. . .” He called out, his gloved hand caressing your cheek. For the first time, you leaned into his gentle touch. It nearly had his heart explode for you.
“Sorry. This won’t be a problem once I’m down there and I find my groove. I’ll be okay.” You reassured him and yourself. Giving yourself a pep-talk was new too. 
Just for a moment, Simon wanted to share this short time with you. To be the one to calm your nerves. He lifted his mark partially up, kissing you deeply to break your anxious thoughts. When his kiss finally registered in your brain, you couldn’t help but kiss him back like it was the last kiss you would ever share with him. If things went wrong, it may very well be. 
When he pulled away, his eyes were sharp. Confident. “You’ll be perfect. I know you will.”
Your chest stung painfully at his words of encouragement. Focusing on what could go wrong wasn’t helping you believe in yourself. All you needed to believe in was Ghost. With a resolute nod, you accept his support. “Yeah. I’ll be perfect. Thank you.”
His heart swelled at your quick recovery. If he could, he would follow you all the way through the catacombs and back. 
Simon gave you one last kiss before pulling down his mask again, already missing the feeling of your lips pressed against his. You felt that absence as well, hating and loving that you could now never imagine a life without his kisses. That just made you more determined to finish the job with grace just how you’ve always done. 
~
In the dead of night, Ghost quietly peeled back a manhole cover, revealing nothing but sewer at the bottom. Gaz raised a brow at the reveal, expecting to see bones on bones already. You double checked the map to make sure this was the correct entry point. Unfortunately, it was.
One by one, you climbed down to the sewers, careful not to land in the waters. Ghost spoke into his earpiece. “Entry successful. Can you read us?”
“Crystal clear, Lt. Be careful down there. Who knows just how many of Makarov’s men are there.” Price stressed, carefully watching the monitor from the safety of the hotel bedroom. Soap was tasked with coordinating a mass arrest and seize of weapons once Makarov was confirmed dead. He was on the phone coordinating the plan while Price focused on his team under Paris. 
Carefully, you made your way through the sewers, following the same path as the targets from earlier. The walk already felt long as it was dark, cold, and quiet save the sound of water dripping every so often. No chit chat. No small talk. All focus.
Eventually, you all came across a dead end. Gaz and Ghost began to feel the wall, trying to determine if there was a secret they were missing. You checked the map to confirm your positions. Just as Gaz swiped his hands over the left side of the wall, he felt something out of place. A piece of brick that jutted out just slightly compared to the others. When he pressed down on it, the wall popped open, waiting to be opened like a door. Gaz relayed the information to his captain while you marked it on the map. On Price’s end, he marked a similar map, wanting to match yours with each new discovery. 
Beyond the wall was nothing but pitch black darkness. There was no light for what seemed like miles. When you all turned on your flashlights, you were met with the remains of people from floor to ceiling. Bones dating back hundreds of years surround you. It was eerie. It was somehow a little worse than being surrounded by freshly dead bodies. Perhaps it was the more profound sense of death that made the endless halls feel grim. 
Ghost couldn’t help but feel a bit creeped out as well. Skulls were his signature icon, wearing one right on his face. Yet here, it didn’t feel right to wear his mask so blatantly. It was like all of his kills were haunting him now through the bones of thousands. 
Gaz let out a shuddering breath, trying to get himself under control. It wasn’t a pretty sight, being down there. He wondered how the hell tourists felt so excited to visit this place voluntarily. 
For you, it all just felt like a bad omen. 
“Let’s go. We don’t want to linger for too long.” You announced, trying to shake the heebie jeebies off your shoulders. The others followed closely, listening for human life when their flashlights didn’t reach far enough into the depths. 
After walking for a few miles, you finally approached the anticipated fork in the path. It was time to go your separate ways for now. As you stared down your path, you took off your jacket along with your tracker. Ghost’s eyes narrowed, a fire already erupting in his chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The stagnant air was cold, already giving you goosebumps beneath your long-sleeved shirt. “They may search me if we need to go with Plan B. As soon as they find the tracking device, radio, and earpiece, they’ll kill me. Or capture me for interrogation. Either way, that’s not ideal.”
“How are we supposed to know where you are then? How are we supposed to communicate?” Gaz question, growing worried about your sudden decision as well. 
You threw your jacket to Kyle, him catching it with his fast reflexes. Ghost clenched his jaw tight, almost cracking teeth. He didn’t like this one bit. But, if this is how you perfected your craft, he had no choice but to accept it.
From your pocket, you took out a small bobby pin that matched the color of your hair. You pressed the button on the end, causing it to start connecting to the 141’s earpieces. A new dot popped up on the monitor that Price still watched as well. Through the bobby pin, you spoke softly, your voice coming through their ears. “This is a new piece me and Kate have been working on for a while. It’s more discreet. This will be hidden in my hair and less likely to get spotted even with a search. Any complaints?”
“Hear you loud and clear, Hex. Good thinking, bringing a discreet backup. I’ll have to ask Kate to get me one of those.” Price praised, lightening the mood. Ghost still had complaints, but he kept them to himself for now. There was something heavier weighing him down.
Simon didn’t want to split up. He thought that he would have no problem with it back in the hotel room when he was comforting you. Right at the moment, however, he didn’t want you to go. Especially without your jacket. 
Before you could go off on your own, he pulled you in for a tight hug, not caring if Garrick saw. Kyle, being pretty intelligent about these things, pretended that he didn’t see anything and turned around. Simon would have to treat him to a drink later. 
“Be careful, kitten.” He squeezed you tight, the hug almost crushing your lungs. In response, you wrapped your arms around him too. Well, as much as you could with all that gear on him.
Reluctantly, he let you go, allowing you to look up at him once more before turning to disappear into the darkness. When Simon turned to go on their designated path, he heard a familiar voice snicker in his ear.
Soap was having a little laugh. “Kitten?”
“Can it before I decide to add a new set of bones down here.” He threatened, something that even you heard from down your skull-decorated corridor. 
In the cover of darkness and a faint flashlight, you made your way down the catacombs. At this point, you were completely relying on your map and instincts. The halls never seemed to end. It was so difficult to determine how much further you needed to go as well. Taking a deep breath every step, you moved forward. 
Suddenly, there was a yellow light in the distance. One that casted haunting shadows on the walls. There were voices too. Voices engaged in casual conversation like it was a regular Tuesday night at work. This was it. You were finally close to finding the main center of this operation. 
Hiding in the shadows, you waited for the men to pass before going down the path behind them. More light illuminated the way, ensuring that even Makarov’s men could come back safely. The confidence Makarov had in this secret was amazing. Few guards, a few too many lights, and footsteps standing out on the dirt floor. It didn’t take long for you to figure out the guards’ path pattern either.
You lowered your voice to a whisper, the bobby pin coming in clutch. “Found their hub. Preparing to infiltrate now.”
“Copy that. Ghost and Gaz are in position as well. Keep us updated, Hex.” Price answered back, carefully watching your new dot enter the heart of the operation. Hopefully, if things went well, he was planning on trying to convince to stay with the team as well. You’ve been a good influence on the group. You’ve challenged them to think outside the box, take the time to think about unexpected possibilities, and to rely on the psychological aspects. 
John couldn’t remember the last time they were so close to catching Makarov since his escape from prison. It felt like they’ve been chasing after him for forever. The fact that you were able to get a step ahead of him, something the 141 has failed to do until now, meant a lot. The fact that you were willing to put yourself so close to danger spoke volumes about your character too. 
The team could really use someone like you.
For now, Price would table that conversation for later. He needed you to come back safe first. 
Sneaking around the operation was quite easy for you. The guards were pretty lax in terms of security. With how narrow the catacombs were and how many boxes of weapons they had, you were able to get pretty perfect cover. On your map, you marked down where you were as well as the amount of weapons were down with you. You relayed the information to Price and Soap, them also take note of it on their side.
Everything was going smoothly. Except, there was no sign of Makarov anywhere. Not even a mention of his name from his men. You had a bit more area to explore, but that seemed like a waste of time. There was no evidence in knowing if Makarov would come personally within the next hour or the next week. You were genuinly hoping that it wouldn’t have to come down to this. “No sign of Makarov. No evidence of future arrival. Plan B.”
From Ghost’s position, he and Gaz looked to each other. It looked like they were going to be down there longer than planned. They did have the option to leave and come back later when Makarov does finally arrive, but they would never do that to you. Not after all that you’ve done for them. They were going to stay down here with you for as long as it will take. Ghost confidently spoke into his earpiece. “We’ll be here.”
“Plan B is a go.” Price confirmed, his muscles tensing up more than they were before. Everyone was feeling more tense. They were nervous for you.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was going to happen. Then, you emerged from the shadows, hands up in surrender. It took a whistle to get someone to notice you. Once someone did, everyone was pointing their guns at you. Questions were yelled out to you in different languages you couldn’t understand. It wasn’t until someone big and burly came over and spoke to you in English that things could get a move on.
“You! Who are you?! How did you come down here?” He growled, his finger hovering over the trigger of his pistol. 
Calmly, you explained yourself, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’m an assassin. I wish to speak to Makarov for employment.”
“And you infultrate our operation to do so? How do I even know that you aren’t lying to me? Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you now and save everyone the trouble.” He argued, his muscles aching to fill you with bullets. Something about you didn’t seem right to him. However, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t impressed that you had found their operation.
“I consent to a search if it will make you feel better. All I have is a knife in my boot and a twin pistols on my hips in terms of weapons. Take them. I figured that sneaking in like this would catch attention. I’m pretty good at my job. I can be a very valuable asset.” You promised, hands still in the air, not even flinching to defend yourself. 
The men looked between each other, silently trying to decide what to do with you. Their boss gestured to your body, prompting a few men to take your weapons off your person. Paranoia of more was quelled thanks to you wearing tight clothes. “She’s clear.”
“Anyone follow you down?” The boss asked, his tone becoming more relaxed. 
You shook your head and chuckled a little. “I wouldn’t be a very good assassin if there was. Search me for communication tools.”
They were buying your performance, not even realizing that they were taking orders from you like dogs. The 141 listened carefully through your bobby pin, fists clenched as they tried to keep it together. They couldn’t help it. They were protective of you now. 
Ghost heard the shuffle of clothing, imagining how those men have their dirty fucking hands on you for a thorough search. He wanted to storm right through the catacombs to you like a demon from hell to cut their hands off. Doing so would compromise the mission, but it would probably feel worth it. He had to bite his cheek when he heard you hiss.
Someone got a little too handsy with their search, your tone biting as if you really will bite. “Hey! Watch your fucking hands!”
“Just being thorough, girl. Follow me.” The leader finally said, his men ushering you along right behind him. Price and Soap carefully tracked your position, making sure that their map would be able to lead them right to you when the time came as you were unable to update yours. 
You were led to a more open corridor that was divided into sections almost like rooms. In one of them was a small table, two chairs, and a small battery lantern, much like a makeshift interrogation room. You were guided to have a seat, to which you complied. Across from you sat the one in charge around here while a couple of men with rifles manned the exit. The rest dispersed, business as usual. 
“So, you’re telling me that you want to help Makarov. Why?” He questioned carefully, his eyes scanning you for any kind of slip up. Any indication that you weren’t who you said you were. 
You leaned back in your chair casually, arms across your chest. “I’m only interested in going through an interview with Makarov himself.”
He have a mocking laugh, not knowing that he was eating right out of your palm already. “What makes you think he’s gonna come all the way here just to interview you? What do you think this is? A cooperate job? Why do you think you are so special?”
Smirking, you shrugged your shoulders. “I found and broke into this operation, didn’t I? You may have the rest of the world fooled, but if I can waltz right through your skeleton entrance, it won’t be long until your enemies do. You guys need help. I can provide that.”
He raised a brown and stroked his chin in thought, his brain mulling your words over. You had a point. By the time they noticed you, you were already right in the middle of their big secret. There was obviously a loose end somewhere. Makarov wouldn’t be happy with that. Perhaps they could use the support of a skilled assassin.
“What’s your name, girl?” He asked, interest piqued. 
“Don’t have one. Wouldn’t be a good assassin if I did.” You lied effortlessly like it really was the truth. 
A few seconds passed before he finally took the bait. If anything, Makarov would kill you instantly the moment he suspects something wrong. The ghost weapon parts were going to need a final approval too before being shipped out. 
With a heavy sigh, he caved. “Alright, girlie. I’ll leave this business you have with Makarov. You have to stay here, though. Unless told otherwise, you will not leave this room.”
You were left alone in the open room, obeying the order for the sake of the mission. You could hear some sighs of relief from the bobby pin close to your ear hidden within your hair. First part was over. However, that didn’t mean that the hardest part was done with. Things were only going to get more tense from here on out.
You spend hours sitting and doing nothing. You couldn’t even engage in any conversation with the 141. If you weren’t going to die from a bullet, you were going to die from boredom. When the boss of the catacombs operation came back, you nearly sighed in relief. “Makarov will be here within the next twenty-four hours or so. Until then, you are confined here. Good luck, girl.”
After that brief interaction, he left once again, leaving you to wait out even more. No food. No water. Little light. Nothing to do but wait.
The same went for the 141. At least they had each other in closer proximity, though. You, on the other hand, had no one by your immediate side. Hopefully, this would be the last time you would have to be alone like this. 
~
There was no telling if it was still night or day. There was no telling as to how much time has actually passed. Ghost and Gaz had been quite on their end, cutting of communication briefly to avoid you or them being discovered. Soap and Price were silent too, trying to work out final steps on their end. After a certain period of time, you truly felt isolated. This wasn’t like being alone in your cabin. There, you had the sounds of nature surrounding you, books to read, things to do. You could see sunlight and moonlight from your windows. 
Here, there was nothing but bones, dirt, and the tiny light of the lantern. Even the men guarding you decided to turn in for some rest, situating themselves further away from you, but still in close enough range to notice an escape attempt.
A chill ran through you, making you rub your arms with your hands. You were beginning to get tired and hungry. Just as you tried to slip into a cat nap to pass the time, a low voice woke you back up. Hearing it felt like you were being brought back to the land of the living. “Hey, kitten. How are you holding up?”
You didn’t say anything back for a moment, listening for eavesdroppers. Your voice dropped to a whisper so faint that it was like a spirit speaking. “Fine. You sure you want to keep using that nickname right now?”
“I had Price patch us for a private line for a moment. Gaz is sweeping the areas around us. It’s just you and me.” Ghost reassured, grateful to hear your voice like this. He didn’t like you being isolated the way you were. At the very least, he hoped that his voice would provide you with enough company to tie you over for several more hours. 
Your heart felt lighter already just hearing his voice through the pin. Quietly, you go up from the chair to lay on the floor, not caring if you were getting dirt all over yourself. You just needed to stretch your back and legs out. Try to relax as best as you could. “What time is it out there?”
“Nearly noon. It doesn’t feel like it.” He groaned, hardly believing that there was sunlight somewhere himself. It was way too damn dark under Paris.
“Tell me about it. I can’t tell if only a couple minutes have passed or a couple hours. Time seems to stand still down here. The skeletons aren’t helping.” You half-joked, causing Ghost to actually chuckle. The dark sense of humor that you were demonstrating now made him miss you more than he already did. 
A moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you, both of you feeling more secure in the dark now that you have heard each other’s voices. Yet, an unsettling feeling began to take over your stomach, tying it in knots. “Ghost?”
“Yeah?”
“If anything goes wrong, you’re prepared to say goodbye to me, right?” You shakily breathed out.
The nature of your whisper still nearly knocked the wind right out of him. The way you said it, like it was an absolute, an unavoidable inevitable, scared him. Genuinely. “I won’t let something like that happen. I’m not gonna lose you.”
Suddenly, you bolted up from the floor, ears trained on a sound you heard further down the catacombs. You almost thought that it was just the illusion of darkness getting to you until you heard it again. Faint chatter from afar. A familiar voice that you have only heard through tv speakers. 
“Y/n.” You confessed your real name to him with a heavy heart. 
Simon almost didn’t register it. His heart nearly stopped beating. “What?”
“Y/n. My name is Y/n.” 
Before he could say anything, let alone find the words to say, he heard the chattering too from your end. The voice was undeniable. Quickly, he radioed Price to reestablish the communication lines again. “Captain. It’s Makarov. He’s arrived early.”
You returned to your chair, dusting yourself off just before the man of the hour entered your line of sight. With a sinister smile, he entered your room and took a seat across from you. “It’s not every day that I have someone demand to go through an interview with me. In fact, I never held a formal interview before. Nor took demands from anyone. This better be worth my time.”
“Trust me, Makarov. The information and help I have for you is gonna be worth both of our time. I would be lying if I said that their was something out of this for me too.” You faked a gracious smile, something you weren’t sure was selling it enough.
Thankfully, you had Makarov’s attention. For now. 
“I’m listening.”
-
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storiesbyrhi · 2 months
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: Pulling strings and aura reading. 3124 words.
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1986
Hedy Lamarr: Golden Age movie star and inventor. George Antheil: avant-garde composer and inventor. Together, at the beginning of World War II, they developed a radio guidance system for the Allied Forces that could employ frequency hopping technology in order to overcome the issue of the Axis Powers’ signal jamming. Decades later, their innovation would become the basis for Wi-Fi and Bluetooth tech.
The Hollywood dinner party Hedy and George were both invited to would mark their meeting in 1940. Hedy hadn’t planned on attending.
“I hear you won’t be the only free thinker there, Hed,” Abby sing-songed from the passenger seat of Hedy’s car. “Maybe you should go. And besides, Janet’s parties are always so fashionable. I’m sure even more so now she’s married that little costumer designer of hers.”
And with that, Abby had pulled yet another set of strings. It was what she excelled at. Mostly, that was a good thing. She was a good witch. However, you hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, especially since she was prone to stealing your clothes. When she cleared her throat, you noticed she was wearing the purple lace top you loved. Not lost on the road trip to Hawkins then.
“While it is in a witch’s nature to romanticise… well, everything... I must redirect your attention to what is clearly the most critical issue…” Abby started. She shot you a look. “Where is your angelic vampire now?”
Gillian looked at Sally. She had assumed you’d left Eddie in Hawkins. Certainly, he couldn’t be within the walls of the coven. A vampire couldn’t cross the hidden forest threshold.
You felt Kelsey move closer to you, standing behind you, closing ranks.
“Somewhere safe,” you told Abby.
“Can’t be more specific than that?”
“Fuck, Abby, does that matter?”
“I just want to know if you’ve made the same mistake twice. Did you bring a fox into the henhouse again?”
“I resent the implication of being a defenseless hen,” Kels complained.
The witches were talking among themselves once more, Abby planting a seed of fear in the coven. Eyes darted around, often flicking to you with accusatory stares. Your stomach was churning and Eddie was pushed as deeply into the corner of your pocket as he could go.
“Doesn’t this boil down to – do the means justify the ends? Because we have never abided by that before,”
“If the ends are the survival of the coven and the safety of the humans, then yes!”
Arguments were breaking out across the hall.
“Why didn’t she tell us about the vampire as soon as she happened across it?”
“Because we are a coven, not a hive mind. We are allowed to explore and learn for ourselves.”
You couldn’t gauge if a consensus was forming. Questions were coming hard and fast.
“Can we trust any of them again?”
“Where is the justice?”
“If it really is good, if… he has a soul… were there others?”
“What else have we been wrong about?”
“Even if it is good, what if it makes more, and they are the monsters we used to know?”
The tension was continuing to build. Those in the coven who were conflict-avoidant began to filter out of the hall. Whatever happened, what conclusion came, they would accept unconditionally. Other witches who had hitherto said nothing, began to share their opinions with those near them.
A voice called from within the crowd. A demand to be brought closer. Guðrún sat in her enchanted rocking chair, letting it glide just above the ground until she came to a stop before you. She was the oldest in the coven, having lived lives upon lives upon lives.
You knew Guðrún would scold Gillian and Sally later. To keep her in the dark about such important matters showed her a deep disrespect. That matter would be settled in private, among friends. You, though, the way she looked at you was as cold as ice.
“You are a healer. A rare and special gift for a witch. It comes as no surprise that you believed you saw life in something undead. When you tell your story, conviction yellow. Beloving pink.”
Guðrún was the only aura reader of the coven. Ancient wisdom gave her additional senses.
“But now. As you stand. Green turning bad. Not yet deception. Something concealed.”
Don’t break eye contact.
Don’t hold your breath.
Don’t roll over and show your soft belly.
“Too many. Too many hues. What is concealed… It is a… void. Not black, but a vacuum.”
Guðrún’s gaze trailed down to where Eddie was in your pocket. She couldn’t see him, but she could see the empty space around him where an aura should be.
Sally had figured it out the night before. The way you sat, careful of the way your jacket draped over body. Other physical cues. It was that, and that she just knew you. You’d never be parted from Eddie again. She kept the secret from her sister.
Gillian worked it out only then, following Guðrún’s line of sight. “You couldn’t unhex him completely? He returned to the bat form?” she asked you, stepping closer, ignoring the coven’s growing sense of anger and terror.
You said nothing.
She narrowed her eyes. “No. You did. But… This is how you got him through the gate… A trick of form?”
Realisation rippled outwards. For a moment, curiosity and anxiety were radiating from the coven in equal measures.
“If it is good, such a well behaved creature, then show us,” Abby called.
“He is not a show dog, Abigail,” you spat at her.
“Obviously not a dog. A bat. You’ve always had a penchant for the poetic. It’s a bit on the nose though,”
“Shut the fuck up, Abby,” Kelsey growled.
A strange sort of anticipatory silence fell across the hall. You knew what they were all waiting for.
1986, a few days earlier
“It smells nice,” Eddie commented.
He was sitting on the couch behind you. You’d dragged your coffee table altar closer to it, so you could sit between his legs on the floor and do your work.
“It’s the sage. You always say something when there’s sage.”
Your protection spell for Eddie had been finished, but in the eleventh hour, you had a stroke of inspiration.
The potion was a total risk. It was more guesswork than witchcraft. Almost a Hail Mary. You’d probably be throwing up into the mix out of stress if Eddie wasn’t gently playing with your hair.
It was symbiosis. He liked to have his hands on you. You liked his nails on your scalp. Everyone was kept sedated.
“It’s a good idea, my love,” Eddie told you, again.
“In theory,”
“And in practice. It will work.”
1986, a few days later
You knew what they were all waiting for.
“Remember that what you put into the world comes back tenfold,” you warned.
After one last look to Kelsey for support, you reached into your jacket and scooped Eddie up. While keeping your hand touching your chest, you uncurled your fingers to reveal the small bat.
Mostly, the witches were underwhelmed. Some, confused.
“Turn it back,” a voice from somewhere in the crowd said.
“Again. He is not a fucking show dog,” you sneered.
“Then how do we know it’s not dangerous?” Abby asked. “Who says as soon as it’s back in its vampire form, it won’t try to kill us all?”
She’s a good witch, you reminded yourself. A good witch. Part of your coven. But every family has the shit-stirring little sister that could stand to be brought down a peg or two. Alas, it was not the time nor place.
“Me,” you answered.
“And me,” Kelsey added.
“If you come pleading for absolution, the condition of an introduction is not too great an ask,” Guðrún declared. “If it is not a monster, then a meeting should pose no challenge,”
“The challenge doesn’t lie with me. It is with the coven,” you told her.
“You fear violence,”
“Yes. Should I not? Can you tell me all the colours emanating around us are peaceful blues? I know you see red and black and midnight tones. Why shouldn’t I fear this?”
Guðrún studied your face, briefly read the room. Before she could say anything else, and before Abby could move things along with a tug of a string, you let yourself really feel the fear. You wanted to puke.
“I have everything to lose,” you said, voice cracking. Eddie’s tiny little bat hands clung to your shirt, your hands shielding him still. “I am entirely prepared to lose my place here. And, you know what happens to a covenless witch. I have spent weeks agonising over this. All the possible outcomes. Yet here I fucking am. Telling you, all of you, what I did. What I did wrong. Why I did it. Telling you that I was stupid and I feel embarrassed. But that I was in love. That I am in love. That I was hurt in an immeasurable way. But I have found a way from there to here, and that means something. It is worth something.”
Everybody was silent.
It was always going to come to this.
Turning to Kelsey, she pre-empted your request, casting darkness over the windows, then heading out the hall.
“His name is Eddie. Edward. He was twenty when he was turned. It was 1586. He had no choice. He’s almost finished The Lord of the Rings. He helps me forage. He does housework… Eddie has a list of cats throughout history he thinks are cool. His favourite is Unsinkable Sam… He’s… He’s not what you think he is.”
Still, nobody said anything.
Kelsey reappeared at your side, holding out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  Taking them, you turned your back on the coven, standing close enough to Kels that you formed a small partition. Your teeth were trying to chatter, nervous energy screaming to get out of you.
Please. Please. Please.
You didn’t know who you were praying to.
You said the words, Eddie appeared.
The silence became a living thing. It ate up gasps and giggles. Words and wind.
Eddie dressed quickly, but not too quickly. No vampire speed. No sudden movements. He looked you dead in the eye, your reflection in that deep darkness. Hand in hand, you stepped to reveal him to your coven.
There was not a single face of indifference.
Becoming hyper-aware of everything in your surroundings, you first focussed on Sally and Gillian. Their slumped postures. Deep set frowns. Resignation. No threat.
Abby’s fast and shallow breathing. Blown pupils.
Guðrún was squinting so hard you could barely see her eyes. She could will it all she wanted, there was no aura to read. She had no better insight than you. Than any of the others. It made her feel powerless, but in that was grace. If she had no better vantage point, her vote meant nothing more. She ceded. 
The grief was written all over Sara’s face as she moved silently through the coven. You stepped in front of Eddie, held a hand out to her.
“Bug, wait,” you asked. Sara – Bug – who you used to spend hours drying and pressing flowers with. Preserving colour and beauty. Happy in each other’s company.   
“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Sara snapped. “You walked by our side for centuries, but by a single moonlit night you betrayed us?”
“Sara-”
“No. She died in my arms… You were there. You tried to stitch her together. But her skin was too shredded. Too much blood loss. They ripped her apart and now… Now this?”
Sara’s grandmother was older than Guðrún but perished at the hands of Eddie’s colony. You had tried to heal her. Save her. There hadn’t been any hope though.
Sara’s hand moved in her pocket and you became acutely aware of why she had not said anything earlier. She hadn’t been in the room. Sara had disappeared and filled her pockets with the death dust. Most witches had stored theirs away, the need gone. Not Sara. Not ever.
She moved fast, her palms flung open and a deep breath out pushing dust up and at Eddie with supernatural speed and force. It would only take a single flake of it to kill him.
It all happened in an instant. The magic hit the border of the protection spell and Sara was showered in the dust, as if she had been the intended target. Simultaneously, Eddie hissed, an innate and unconscious reaction to an attack. And you grabbed him by the arm and yanked him backward, putting space between him and the coven.
Everyone froze, processing your warning of tenfold and the events that had transpired.
Tears streamed down Sara’s face. “You’re choosing him over us?”
Abby walked to her, wrapped an arm around her waist. “Bug,” she said softly.
“I’m asking to not have to choose,” you tried to explain.
Sara wasn’t listening, not to you, not to Abby, who was whispering something to her. Distracted by this, you did not see Alexis.
Alexis did not come for death. She came for pain. She held a dagger made from carnelian, steel, and crocodile scales. She drove the dagger through the air, but hit the spell border just as the death dust had. The spell was a mirror, it would reverse the magic back to sender.
Alexis’ blade spun from her hands and glided too quickly at her. It aimed for her heart, as she had aimed for Eddie’s. Its trajectory would have seen it plunge through her ribcage’s gaps and into her still-beating heart. If Alexis died, it would all be over.
But Eddie was there.
He moved in a blink and caught Alexis with one arm, holding her safely. His other grabbed the dagger, letting it slice through the side of the hand so he could catch it mid-air. The room held its breath. Alexis’ green eyes were wide and set on Eddie. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull herself from Eddie’s embrace.
“I mean you no harm,” he murmured quietly, just to her. “And I like your freckles.”
Eddie let Alexis go; she stumbled a few steps before steadying herself. He moved slowly again, turning to the coven and dropping the dagger, letting it clang against the floorboards.
You rushed to him, throwing your arms around him. “Are you okay?” Looking down, Eddie had already healed from the blade. You held him tightly. He closed his eyes and melted into you.
The witches watched. Some submerged in waves of grief, some choking on anger. Some could smell honeysuckle, a sure sign of true love. Others felt a ripple of change, their skin prickling with goosebumps.
You looked to the coven.
“This is… too much. It’s too much for me. And for each of you… But it’s done…” You shook your head, then shrugged. “I just… I don’t know… We have been guided by so many forces. By what we learn. By fate, and life, and death. By the systems of morality we take from the humans. By each other. And I don’t know what’s really right. So, I’ll make my own meaning now. It’s… yeah, it’s been working. What I’ve done in Hawkins. It is good. There’s good to be done there…”
It was resonating. Ev, Meg, and Hailey. Ash, Mel, and Kelsey. More and more witches, lost in a liminal space of post-purpose. What did it mean to be a witch without a goal? What did it mean to be a woman in 1986?
Eddie watched you. I will diminish, and go into the West and remain Galadriel, the book echoed in his head. You held yourself with the same loveliness as Galadriel. Not always, but now.
“I’m going back. Maybe I’ll stay there. Maybe I’ll find somewhere else that needs help. But I don’t belong here anymore. And, maybe that’s okay. Maybe it will… it will be okay…”
As your thoughts trailed off, you met Abby’s gaze. She nodded once, a promise that you would be left alone. You nodded back, then looked for Guðrún. She had already left, putting faith in the youth of the coven.
Some of the witches began to leave the hall. You had no way of knowing who you had hurt and if you would ever be forgiven, but you were willing to pay the price of that shame to keep Eddie.
Kelsey was the first to come to you. “I’m coming with you,” she announced fearlessly.
“Me too,” echoed Mel.
The others stepped up, nodding.
“You don’t have to do this,” you told them.
“And you don’t get to tell us what to do,” Meg replied.
“You’re right. Maybe you don’t belong here. But maybe you’re not the only one,” Ev said.
A deep exhaustion was taking over. Your energy was draining into the protection spell, the mirrored bubble around Eddie took so much of your magic to keep intact. All you had in you to do was nod. You’d argue with them another day.
“Hi,” from Ash then. She grinned at Eddie.
“Hi,” he replied, flashing her a trademark smile. He took your hand. “I, ah, look forward to meeting you all. But I believe it might be best if I depart. For now,”
“Yeah,” you agreed. “Do you wanna go ahead? I know this looks like a truce but it feels more like a stalemate. I’ll be on the road in a few hours... Sic fiat,” and the bat swirled through the air and out the open door. He flew up, up, up, until the wards of the coven were far below him.
Eddie covered miles of Catskills quickly, before finding a nice tree to huddle in, awaiting your arrival.
“You’re leaving already?” Kelsey asked.
“You don’t have to go right away,” Hailey told you.
“I’m causing more sorrow than joy being here. It’s not fair on the others,”
“What happened wasn’t fair to you,” Mel pointed out.
“I know. But… This isn’t black and white… But I’m kind of tired… Meg… Any cinnamon rolls ready? You know, for the road?”
You sat with your sisters, drinking tea and eating baked goods. They told you about their lives, about what the past few months had looked like for them. And while none of it was on the same scale as Henry Creel and revived vampires, you realised you were not alone.
When you imagined the path forward, you were always holding Eddie’s hand. You were the only witch walking though. However, all it took to build a coven was a couple of witches with overlapping notions of love, magic, and morality. Maybe there was room for more.
End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington for teaching me about the very real Hedy Lamarr. If you don't know about her, she is absolutely worth a Google.
To the newest additions to the coven - @munson-blurbs and @littlesubbyflower. Thank you for being the face of objection.
And, to anyone that loves Catfish and the Bottlemen as much as I do... I had to do it. Hopefully, it wasn't too cringe lmaoooooo.
Grimoire is updated.
REBLOG AND TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELS!!!
Love yas.
Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16
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enam3l · 7 months
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eddie’s love letter to reader after leaving her in chicago where he’d followed her after meeting for the first time. (i was in my feels despite not even being in love myself)
masterlist or series tag #enam3ls rockstar eddie
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Dear sweetheart,
I’m considering hijacking my own plane and making them turn back to Chicago, back to you. My lips left your skin an hour ago and already they’re itching to be reunited.
Ready to commit felonies in order to feel yours once more. The guys have ditched me, they’re sitting further up the place. Apparently I talk too much as is, now I’m worse than ever and the only topic on my tongue is you. I can’t blame them, I wonder how I’ll ever shut up about you.
The flight attendant brought her little trolley round and all she got from me was a lecture about how you only mix your drinks with lemonade, never soda. I told her my girl has a sweet tooth. I suppose I don’t know for sure if you’re my girl yet. Not even officially my girl and you’ve got me hopping states and writing love letters.
You’ve bewitched me, babe. Appeared out of thin air on a dark stormy night in a small town like Hawkins? It all makes sense. I knew you had to be other worldly. You hexed me that night, turned me into a lovesick teenager. I hope the spell is irreversible if it means I get to be yours.
Shit, this could all be nonsense, I don’t know. I’m so god damn tired. You kept me awake. I’ve not even got my mind in the gutter. Just mean, how could I possibly sleep when I got to have you to myself? There’s only 24 hours in the day and you’ve existed for nearly 24 years. Hard to hear all your stories in that time. I want to hear them all. It feels cruel the universe robbed me of 24 years of you. Think I could listen to you til the oceans ran dry and I wouldn’t get bored.
I took my jacket off once I was seated to get comfy but then I realised it smelt like you. Had this thing since I was 16 and it’s only ever smelt like smoke and cheap beer. You wear it for a weekend and it smells like you. You you you. That pretty perfume and that sweetness natural to your skin. It’s soaked into the leather. Under the fibres. I think you’ve done that to me as well. Seeped under my skin. Running through my system.
Already owe Dustin and Steve my life in ways you don’t even know. I owe them it all once over for introducing you.
You were right when you said this wasn’t normal. People don’t just feel this way with someone they’ve known for a couple of hours. I think my heart was yours from that moment in the Hideout. It’s still with you now in Chicago. I don’t want it back. Keep it in the back pocket of those tight little jeans you wore yesterday. If you gave me yours, it’d be the most precious think I owned.
When you get back home to New York and read this, call me. I’ll be on your doorstep in seconds if I’m not already camped out there. I should’ve stayed in bed with you in that fancy ass hotel in Chicago.
Call me and I’ll crawl back into your sheets and promise to never leave again.
Yours if you wish,
Eddie.
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don’t worry i know it’s been a while but i could never forget about my lil star crossed lovers
my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos s @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar
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theresattrpgforthat · 2 months
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hello! I've played the fallout ttrpg (the one they had to pull the rights from when it was pretty much done so they called it Exodus instead), I wish it didn't suck so bad! Is there any system I could borrow that would fit with Fallout's setting? I love the world in itself, but Exodus was rushed and published half-baked
THEME: Fallout
Hello friend, I have quite a few games for you to check out today! Some of them are direct homages, while others simply just have elements that might remind you of the video game.
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Rebels of the Outlaw Wastes, by Nerdy Pup Games.
Play misfit outlaws fighting against the authoritarian Powers That Be in a hyper-saturated, film-grained, retro dystopia. Save the future with the power of friendship, whoopass, and explosions! Features sticker-based character advancement, effortless cinematic vehicle action, and player-driven Ride-or-Die system usings d4s, d6s, d8s, d10s, and d12s.
This game is a bit more colourful and punk-rock, and a little less morally grey than some of the more popular Fallout games. The designer cites some pretty colourful inspirations, such as FLCL and Six-String Samurai, but also concedes that you can make the tone fit that of Borderlands, Fallout, and Mad Max. It depends on how you build your world - what tech was there before? What kinds of weirdness persists? What beliefs have survived?
You’ll make skill rolls that can be boosted by gear or your personal style, with anything above a 4 granting you a success, with bonuses for rolling even higher at an 8 or a 12. Badges are the representations of character growth, tied to the skills that you choose to improve, somewhat like how concentrating on certain skills in Fallout gives you access to perks. If you want a stripped-down basic idea of the rules for this game, the designer has a Pay-what-you-want playtest that you can download for free, just to dip your toes in the water.
Earth: After Death, by Hammer City Games.
Boasting deep and crunchy mechanics reminiscent of the golden age of 90s TTRPGs, Earth, After Death focuses on OSR-style gaming, dungeon and hex crawling, fast-paced combat, high lethality, and a unique and fascinating setting to explore.
There’s plenty to do: kill mutants, explore ancient ruins, get lethal radiation poisoning, find a gun that has infinite ammunition, use psionic powers to blow up peoples heads, replace your legs with tank treads, and more!
This is a chunky, old-school style game that takes care to mention that your level-up system is just like the advancement system in Fallout games. You’ll be dealing with mutations, ghost machines, bartering for gear, and hex-crawling through dangerous wastelands. The character sheets point to a lot of moving pieces, so if you like wrangling together a character that does exactly what you want them to do, you’re going to have a lot to play with here. It looks like mutation is also a pretty big deal in this game, with over 100 different kinds advertised on the game’s store page.
Right now just the Wasteland’s Handbook is available to purchase, but the kickstarter for this game will be taking off later this year. If this sounds like your kind of game, then maybe hop over to the website to get in on the first full edition as it releases!
Fallout: The Roleplaying Game, by Modiphius.
In 2077, the storm of nuclear war reduced most of the planet to cinders. From the ashes of nuclear devastation, a new civilization will struggle to arise. A civilization you will shape. How will you re-shape the world? Will you join with a plucky band of survivors to fight off all-comers and carve out your own settlement? Will you team up with pre-existing factions like the Brotherhood of Steel or Super Mutants to enforce your own ideals on the Wasteland? Ghoul or robot, paladin or raider, it’s your choice - and the consequences are yours. Welcome to the Wasteland. Welcome to the world of Fallout.
Utilizing Modiphius’ celebrated 2d20 cinematic role-playing system, the Fallout RPG will take players on an exciting journey into the post-apocalypse! Create your own survivors, super mutants, ghouls, and even Mister Handy robots. Immerse yourselves in the iconic post-nuclear apocalyptic world of Fallout, while gamemasters guide their group through unique stories and encounters. The 2d20 edition of Fallout is as close to the bottlecap bartering, wasteland wandering, Brotherhood battling excitement as you can get.
Modiphius gets the license to make a lot of games for different properties, so a Fallout game fits in alongside other big titles like Dune, John Carter of Mars, and Alien. This company uses their own 2d20 system, with a focus on inventory and Perks in an effort to make the game recognizable to any typical Fallout fan.
That being said, the game has come under fire for being poorly edited and inconsistent when it comes to finding the right rule. The company updated the game last year and released a Settler’s Guide book, so this might be something that’s a bit more read-able now. But if you want something set directly in the Fallout universe, this is your game.
WASTELAND, by MaelikGames.
WASTELAND is a simple tabletop RPG about adventurers in the world that has only recently became hospitable after a War that might not end all wars, but almost ended the world. You and your friends decide whether this world is bleak and hopeless, like the one in Metro, or somewhat whimsical, as in Fallout. 
Much of the inspiration from Fallout appears in the character options of this game. Arkanites are homages to Vault-Dwellers, Radkin are inspired by Ghouls, and robots are, well, robots. The talents also look like they are directly inspired by Fallout perks, such as Animal Friend, which allows you to turn hostile animals into allies. Gear and inventory are both very important in this game, which is something that I never find surprising in post-apocalyptic games, since having to track inventory feels like a pretty important thing in a game about scarcity. Your skills are also based on a percentage of success, because you’re rolling a d100, with the goal of rolling under your target number. If you’re looking for a game that can mechanically reflect much of what’s available in the Fallout video games, this might be for you!
Dystopia Rising: Evolution, by Onyx Path.
No one knows how long it’s been since the world was blasted with nuclear radiation and became infested with the undead. The survivors of the Fall were the first strain of deviation of the human condition and were able to make it through the rapidly spreading epidemic. Finding a community of decent size in this world is rare; finding one that has any concept of equality or morality is rarer still.
Oh, and people have the unnerving ability to come back from the dead, regrown from the very virus that destroyed the world.
This is a completely different world from Fallout and yet I think it might still be worth talking about in this rec post. Dystopia Rising has a rich, detailed world, with various factions and faiths, and your characters are differentiated by the Strains that have helped them survive. There are plenty of conflicting beliefs that can be the seeds for unlimited conflict, including various faiths in things like evolution or the preservation of humanity, strains that give you psychic powers, and a universal ability to come back to the dead so many times before you’re turned into a mindless zombie.
There’s plenty of opportunity to fight things hand-to-hand, but there’s just as many possibilities to politic your way out of tough scenarios, which is a hallmark of Fallout New Vegas. Not only that, there's no clear "good guys": this is a complicated world with complicated people. If you want a game that carries a lot of similar themes of Fallout but puts you in a new setting, maybe check out this game.
Games I’ve Recommended in the Past
Extinction Punk, by Extinction Punk.
Wastoid, by Jason Tocci.
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hex-hop · 2 years
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dimplecki · 7 months
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I have this hc about a high-school dropout version of sam. in a universe where he goes off the rails in an early age, experimenting with drugs, gets tattoos, tinkering with witchery and hexes, wandering the streets with his knife finding all kinds of shit to get involved in. And dean always chases him down and begs him to come home. But home is a shitty motel and microwaved food and sam is just over it. He's still doing research and learning about lore and ghosts and monsters. He tells dean about it when he does stop by the motel, usually to shower, or have a screaming match with their dad. But most of the time he prefers to visit when their dad isn't in the motel. Because then dean hops into the shower with him.
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celestiaras · 4 months
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ his sick darling]❜
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ft. hex haywire x gn! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en
╰₊✧ after losing some parts of your memory for unknown reasons, you seek treatment but your therapist knows a lot more than he lets on┊1.1k words
contains: yandere, malpractice/abuse of power, toxic relationships, manipulation, mentions of reader having family problems & mental illness, talks of violence & murder
➤ author's note: there was a time when my girlfriend and i had the same therapist
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therapist! hex haywire whom you click with immediately like a best friend. you were nervous about going to therapy for the first time ever, but his office was so cozy with a comforting ambiance— soothing music playing in the background to drown out any possibly distracting outside noises, a cup of warm sweetened hibiscus tea (which happened to be your favorite brand and flavor), and a fluffy knitted blanket just in case you got cold since he didn’t have control over the building’s air conditioning. his calming deep voice and friendly smile made you feel welcome, calming any anxious feelings you had beforehand within mere minutes of meeting him. there wasn’t any way to explain it, but you felt like you could trust him with your life.
therapist! hex haywire who has so much in common with you! he didn’t want to jump into the serious things in the first session so he asked about your interests to ease any tensions, and surprisingly, he was knowledgeable about everything you brought up. he knew the characters of your favorite series, the theories about your favorite movies, the hidden symbolism of your favorite books, and even the details of media that you weren’t a fan of as if you shared the same recommendations on your streaming services and the same paperback novels on your bookshelves. it was the first time that you could remember where you freely spoke about the things you liked without the worry of being annoying or boring because he genuinely seemed invested in the conversation with you and even seemed disappointed when the timer went off, promising to continue next time.
therapist! hex haywire who feels oddly familiar to you. you can’t quite place your finger on it, you feel like you’ve met him before— maybe in high school or at a party since it would be difficult to forget a face like his, but when you brought it up, he insisted that you could find someone who looks like him at any college campus or library if you paid attention. him knowing so much about your interests was just a coincidence— you know how algorithms work these days with feeding content that fits your tastes perfectly, it isn’t too far-fetched for it to match up! besides, aren’t you happy to have a therapist whom you could bond with so quickly without needing to hop around to find the perfect one?
therapist! hex haywire who always knows exactly what to say when you are feeling down, jotting down notes on his clipboard while comforting you with that silver tongue of his. you’re so frustrated since it feels like it’s been forever since you started, but no noticeable progress has been made. you still have no idea why your memory is so patchy, desperate to know about your past so that you can soothe your curiosity and move on with your life no matter how scary or disturbing it may have been. he’ll reach out to hold your hand under his large one, rubbing circles into the skin and reminding you that everyone heals in different ways and different paces but he promises that he’ll be there with you every step.
therapist! hex haywire who makes your heart flutter even though it’s incredibly improper for a patient to think this way towards a caretaker. he’s handsome, around your age, extremely kind, and knows you better than you know yourself so isn’t it natural as humans to feel attraction in such a situation? it would have been a smart choice to just look for someone else since it’s a clear violation of unspoken rules, but you were already crushing hard and you also didn’t want to restart all of the progress you already made with him over the past few months. surely, it’s just a little puppy crush that will die down on its own, right?
yandere therapist! hex haywire who knows you better than anyone else, even better than your own family whom you ran away from before seeking solace in your relationship with him. you don’t remember, but he certainly does— spending every waking moment thinking about you, every second spent with you, and every word that leaves your lips from the present to the first moment he laid eyes on you.
yandere therapist! hex haywire who’s surprised that you don’t remember him at all after the incident, but is more than pleased to start his new story in your book while leaving the previous pages to remain lost due to your memory loss. although he doesn’t want them to be just lost, he wants them scorched and far past restoration— gone is the psycho ex-boyfriend with flags redder than the blood he spilled for you, and now is the kind therapist who will accompany you in your time of need before eventually blurring the lines of professionalism.
yandere therapist! hex haywire who already knows about your growing attraction to him from your body language: how you’re subconsciously drawn to him, how you mirror his body language, how you inch closer to him when seated— it makes him smile to himself knowing that his charms are working on you just as well as it did when you first got together back then.
yandere therapist! hex haywire who takes advantage of how gullible you are to alienate yourself from the disgusting vermin that you naively call friends so that you’ll depend on him even more, preying on your insecurities and habits of overthinking to make you doubt the ones around you. it’s surprising how much a passing comment from a weekly session could negatively impact your viewpoint about your friends, but it’s only to be expected with someone who has been studying human psychology as extensively as he has.
yandere therapist! hex haywire who faked being shocked when you entered his office one day after fighting with your best friend, all teary-eyed and sniffing while hiding your face from him out of embarrassment. of course, he knew that this would happen, already having a box of tissues out and already predicting how the conversation would go. it took nothing to get you to dance into the palm of his hand, but it was one of the infinite reasons why he loved you so much.
yandere therapist! hex haywire who thinks that maybe getting caught by you while sticking a kitchen knife through the heart of your (then) current lover was perhaps a blessing in disguise. there will never be any words in any language to describe the panic he went through when you fainted and hit your head, but everything worked out perfectly fine. patience is a virtue and he would wait thousands of years if that was what it took to hold you in his arms again, but luckily for him, it was much closer than he thought.
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justkeeponsimming · 28 days
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Music bounces around the bar as Hex and Weathetly enter. A small crowd of sims huddle around a table in the corner, watching the new years countdown. The sun is setting soon, so there’s plenty of time to get lots of drinking and dancing in before the new year rolls in!
Hex hops up onto a bar stool, waving high to get the bartender’s attention. The sim before her looks so unimpressed when she places her order.
Hex: “Two ales, please - and a drink for yourself too!”
Molly: “Uhh…thanks. I’ll need juice if I have to deal with sims like you all night.”
Weatherly places a hand on Hex’s arm as she glares at the bartender, narrowing her eyes at her sarcastic comment. Hex takes a deep breath and smiles at her best friend to let him know that she’s okay. He releases his grip on her when he’s sure she won’t start a fight.
Molly Prescott slides the two glasses over to Hex and Weatherly. Hex pushes her simoleons close enough but just out of reach of Molly, trying to be petty in revenge for the sarcastic comment. Weatherly taps his glass against his best friend’s, drawing her attention back to him. 
Weatherly: “Cheers! Happy new year, Hexagon!”
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