#almost companion: round 1

[companion-showdown]

Who do you most wish had become a companion?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[dwsidecharacterpoll]

all round 1 votes can be found here send obnoxious opinions on side characters to here please reblog and kvetch about why your fave isn't winning

[mayspicer]

Ok, the boss is no more! There were some super stressful moments but surprisingly we all survived o:

My animal companion got hit with disintegrate, but we had hero points to make him avoid it. I would cry actually, because disintegrate means no resurrection x_x

The war is prevented! At least this one, because Cayden's party is right at the center of a much bigger one just starting. Today we saved the country. Cayden is trying to not even save the whole world, just maybe slow the whole thing down and save as much people as possible...

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (if you squint), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, some violence (nothing major)

words. 3.3k (this kind of got away from me)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

You don’t know how you got here, really.

Actually, you do. And you’re slowly regretting every decision that has led you to this moment by the minute.

But alas—here you are, watching Bakugou (or rather, his expensive ass sports car) pull over in front of your apartment.

And you’re about to say screw it and go back inside and just text him you don’t feel too well as if you weren’t just at the front door a second ago when your boss finally steps out of the driver’s seat.

Now you’ve seen Bakugou dressed up on numerous occasions. Never as his date or companion—hell, no—but you’ve witnessed him dressed up to the 9’s enough to reach the point of not getting affected at the sight of him in a suit and his hair pushed back.

But you can’t help the sudden tightness in your throat when you do see him.

He walks up to the porch and stops a few feet away from you and almost immediately, he gives you a once-over. Despite yourself, you look down at your heeled feet, suddenly feeling overly self-conscious. Or maybe it’s also to stop yourself from staring at him because damn.

And you hate yourself for it.

It’s his voice, though, that pulls you out of your hazy stupor. “Are you hopping in are we just gonna stand here all night?”

You internally roll your eyes as you follow him to his car, feet already starting to hurt even though you literally just put the heels on a few minutes ago. You’re about to open the door to the backseat when Bakugou stops you with one hand and opens the door to the passenger side with the other.

You look up at him in question, although you quickly look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, and shuffle in. “You really don’t have to do—that—” he shuts the door, “okay.”

He rounds the hood of his car and settles on his seat soon after. As he brings the engine to life and tinkers with the Bluetooth, you take the opportunity to take in the interior of his car. Needless to say, it is immaculate—this being the first time you’ve ever been here as you’ve always declined any offer from him to drive you home.

Why is that?

You’d chalk it up to feeling uncomfortable about your boss giving you a lift, especially as the HR head, but deep inside you know it’s more because being in a small space with him (alone, especially) makes you just a tad bit crazy.

Just a bit.

Since when has this been a thing?

Shrugging off the rather unsettling thought, you intentionally bring your mind to other things, like how nice the car smells—or how your hair and makeup ended up exceeding your expectations. You’re in the middle of appreciating how smooth Bakugou’s driving is when it hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Hold up—” you turn to him in horror, “you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

At that, Bakugou’s face contorts in what you think is offense before it morphs into a snark expression, like he’s about to retort with a playful quip but decides against it last minute.

“No.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slump against your seat, relieved. You can’t believe you forgot to ask about this crucial piece of information prior to agreeing to this ruse.

A foreign kind of curiosity—the type that you haven’t felt in a while—suddenly takes seed and blooms in you, particularly about Bakugou and his romantic life. But you quickly tamp it down before you blurt out a wildly inappropriate personal question to your boss.

The second Bakugou puts the car in park, you hurriedly climb out of the passenger seat, not minding how ungraceful you look, desperate to get out of the small bubble you’ve found yourself sharing with your boss for the last hour.

Quickly scanning your surroundings, you find that there aren’t many people in the parking lot—perhaps it’s because of the fact that you’re cutting it close, which was totally not a conscious decision so that you’d spend the least amount of time at the wedding as possible—but as you two walk in silence towards the venue entrance, you start noticing it.

You feel people holding their gazes directed towards the both of you a little longer than normal. You try to shrug it off, but even as you state your name to the kind-looking lady who you believe is assigned to usher guests to their seats, you’re acutely aware that a silence has befallen upon the room and it’s your arrival that has caused it.

And you’d bet good money you saw in your peripheral vision a few do a double-take upon seeing you.

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her shock upon seeing the number two pro-hero. Eyes wide as saucers, she barely stammers out his pro-hero name in what you believe is a…question?

Bakugou, the ever-skilled PR prince that he is, merely gives her a curt and somehow pained nod, as if this exchange is yards beneath him. “That’s me. My name’s probably not on the list, though,” he gestures to you, “I’m just her plus one.”

With that, it’s as if the lady just got reminded that you were standing just right beside him and that you existed.

“Oh, of course!” Her eyes dart toward you and then back at him and suddenly her eyeballs are akin to that of the toy in a pinball machine—darting between the two of you in record speed, the gears in her head turning as if processing what the fuck this lowly guest is doing, showing up with the Dynamight to a wedding.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, probably feeling self-conscious in front of the man, “what was your name again?”

You repeat yourself with the most gracious smile you can muster. You can’t blame the woman for slightly losing her cool in front of the boss. The only reason you’re not stumbling and embarrassing yourself in front of him is because you’ve had practice.

In fact, three years and eight months worth of it.

But that practice practically flies out the window when you feel something brush against your right hand before encasing it entirely.

You look down at the point of sensation and it takes everything in you not to gawk at the sight of Bakugou’s big, firm hand wrapped around yours. You immediately whip your head to look up at him, but the guy isn’t even looking at you. Instead, he seems to be listening intently to what the lady is saying that’s a hundred percent going in one of your ears and out the other.

“…f-follow me—right this way, p-please!”

You stumble behind him as he leads you to where the lady is directing the both of you, hands still interlocked.

“What are you doing?” you hiss-whisper, keeping your voice low enough to make sure she doesn’t hear you panic.

“I’m saving your life, dumbass,” he hisses back.

Saving your life? The man is giving you a damn heart attack. And making you the target of the thousands of news outlets known to man.

“Oh, do tell me how that’s so?”

Although you can’t see his face as he’s practically dragging you forward by your now clammy appendage, you’re 99% sure he’s rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘cause people are fucking staring.”

“So naturally you have to hold my hand?”

He halts to an immediate stop and you almost collide with his backside if not for your marginally quick enough reflexes. He scowls at you over his shoulder and it shocks you to see how red he’s gotten over a reasonable question from your end.

It’s not like you just asked him why he’s number two or something.

“Yes, I do, if we want a shot at making this the slightest bit believable.”

Before you even get the chance to respond (that is, grumble at him like a petulant child because the motherfucker is making sense—like he always is), you get interrupted.

“Is everything alright?”

Both of you quickly face the lady who you find is trying not to let the concern get to her already wobbly smile.

She’s failing.

“Yeah!”

“Yup.”

At that, she nods, although she seems to be suspicious—hesitant, at best. “Well, then—these are your seats. Enjoy the wedding!”

The ceremony couldn’t have been more dragged out if they tried. They probably had a dozen technical difficulties. The flower girls who were literal toddlers refused to walk down the aisle and had to be hauled by their parents to get it done and over with. The officiator was so irritatingly loud that he didn’t even need a microphone from the sheer volume of his booming voice. And you could tell he was going over the time limit because the wedding coordinators at the perimeters of the venue were getting more and more antsy by the minute.

Bakugou, who was seated on your right, was not fairing any better. You lost count of the times his head bobbed toward you as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week—you knew that. A notorious villain has recently resurfaced and he and Kirishima were the police’s primary contacts for this case. Suddenly feeling guilty for having inadvertently dragged him to this snoozefest with you, you debated whether or not to tell him he can rest on your shoulder so he can get some rest but immediately decided against it because what the fuck.

Eventually, and miraculously, you get past the ceremony relatively unscathed. Well, as far as unscathed in this situation can get.

You managed to avoid your ex’s sights the entire time. Luckily, you and Bakugou were assigned at a far-away table alongside distant friends and relatives—courtesy of the bride, probably, and really, you couldn’t be more thankful. By the time picture-taking per table rolled around, you conveniently excused yourself to the bathroom and waited it out until you were sure your group’s time was up. When you sheepishly walked back to your table, Bakugou didn’t seem to be too comfortable, probably from having been left alone, but from the look in his eyes, you could tell he knew what you were doing and why you did it. Despite his appearances, he’s perceptive like that.

With only a few, necessary words exchanged between the two of you, and the occasional smiles and affectionate behavior whenever either of you felt prying eyes, you eventually find yourself finally loosening up and relaxing.

In contrast to the past few hours in which you were evidently tense and barely managed to join in on small talk around you, you’re now actually conversing with your table-mates who, thankfully, haven’t asked you how you were related to the bride and groom.

Bakugou probably notices this change in demeanor because you spot him eyeing you with a serious look on his face before cooly looking away as if you didn’t just catch him studying you.

Before you can think much of the expression on his face, the young woman seated across from you who you’ve gotten to know as Kairi says your name, effectively snapping you out of thought.

Right before dousing you with ice water with a supposedly innocent question.

“Sorry—what?”

She chuckles harmlessly, paying no mind to your reaction. “I said, how do you know the bride and the groom?”

Shit.

“I—uh,” against your will, you chance a look at Bakugou who’s already looking at you with a seemingly neutral expression, although you’ve been around him long enough to see the traces of panic adorning his features.

A few more seconds pass by in silence before you decide to just tell the truth.

You laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. “I’m actually an ex-girlfriend…”

Unsurprisingly, everyone at the table goes quiet at your admission, before they seemingly remember to put up appearances by laughing good-naturedly with you.

“Well, good on you for showing up!” Kairi says, giving you a thumbs up. The rest of the group pack on their agreement and support. She eyes Bakugou with a mischievous grin, “And with precious cargo, too.”

Her friends elbow her in chastisement, and you can’t help the flush that takes over your face at her unabashed flirting. You chance a glance at the man in question, only to find him acting like he couldn’t give a single fuck.

You’re about to pipe up with a genuine compliment in Bakugou’s way, lest they end up thinking you don’t agree that “your man” is fine as fuck (and isn’t this the part where a person is supposed to brag about their partner?) when a silence befalls upon your table again.

Only this time is more awkward than the last.

“What..?”

You follow Kairi’s line of vision and turn to look at the thing behind you that’s caught their attention only to find yourself face-to-face with him.

He exclaims your name—like he’s delighted to see you—before scooping you up and bringing you into his arms.

You collide with his chest with an unceremonious ‘oof’ and despite yourself, you toss Bakugou a look (cry) for help over the guy’s shoulder.

And like the hero that he is, Bakugou stands up smoothly, buttoning his suit all the while.

Clearing his throat, he shoots your ex a stony glare while offering a hand to shake. “Good to meet ‘ya. I’m Bakugou, her boyfriend.”

A whirlwind of emotions dances across the guy’s face before they finally settle into one that causes scalding shame to stir within your gut: utter disbelief.

“My bunny got herself a boyfriend?” You cringe at the sound of your old pet name, and Bakugou’s glare turns even colder at the mention of it. You try to ignore the hurt that’s springing in your chest at your ex’s incredulous tone.

The guy’s eyes dart between the two of you before they finally settle on your boss. “And that person is you?”

As if he couldn’t get higher on the asshole meter, your ex drops his head back as he howls in laughter, as if he just heard the funniest joke ever. You feel your face flame in humiliation, and it’s as if you get possessed for the next few seconds.

Because in the blink of an eye, you find yourself clenching your fist so hard and bringing it up to the asshole’s face, where it collides with his jaw with a loud crack.

Almost instantaneously, you recoil and bring your hand back to yourself because that shit hurt, and fuck, you just punched a guy.

At his wedding.

You don’t know what comes over you because the first thing you do is not apologize to the guy who’s writhing in pain on the floor or look at the people who are most probably already watching the scene. No, the first thing you do is whip to look at Bakugou, who’s now grinning at you.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab your purse with one hand, Bakugou’s hand with the other, and toss your dickhead of an ex a ‘have a great rest of your wedding’ before beelining out of there and straight to the car of the man whose hand you’re holding.

“I—”

“Nope.”

“You—”

“No.”

“Just—”

“Shut the fuck up, Bakugou.”

At your crass words, Bakugou takes his eyes off the road to look at you in amused disbelief (or, at least you think so—you’re only looking at the man through your periphery; you’re too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes right now).

“Woah, there, princess,” you can hear him smirking. “Not sure that’s how you want to talk to your boss.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you fix your gaze to your right, itching to get out of the car. “I thought you were my date tonight. You can’t be both at the same time. That—that just doesn’t sit right with me. You know, as the HR head of your agency?”

The man merely snickers in response, and you’re lulled into a comfortable silence.

Before he decides to speak again.

“‘Have a great rest of your wedding,’” he chuckles to himself as he stops at a red light. “Classic.”

You turn to regard him, having had enough. “Do you mind? I’m kind of having a crisis here.”

At that, he snorts. “Over what? You just had the best payback in history.”

You ignore him, opting to bury your face in your hands instead as you wail, “I punched a guy at his wedding.”

“Damn straight, you did.”

You gape at him like he just grew horns. “I’m sorry, were you not there? In case you forgot, Mr. Dynamight, you were technically my date. You’re guilty by association.”

Just as he is about to respond, the traffic light quickly turns to yellow then green, and you take it as an opportunity to keep rambling.

“And practically everyone there knows you. Shit, Mikuri-san is going to kill me.”

“Tadashi Mikuri? From PR?”

“Yes,” you seethe, although you know Bakugou has done nothing wrong to be at the receiving end of your shame-induced anger. You groan, “This is going to be a nightmare to clean up.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything after that, and you have to restrain yourself from poking at him to say anything—anything, really—to assure you that no, everything is going to be okay, and that no, your career or reputation is not over.

Eventually, and without you noticing, you pull up in the driveway of your apartment. Heaving a deep sigh, you will yourself to finally keep your chin up and face whatever the fuck is waiting for you tomorrow head-on, even if you were going to do it alone. Grabbing your purse and phone, you’re about to thank him and say good night when Bakugou reaches over the console and places a hand over yours.

“I—” he starts, and you look at him expectantly, trying not to seem weird about the contact.

He clears his throat before giving you the most reassuring nod, “I’ll take care of the press. Don’t worry about it.”

Before you can ask him how the hell he’s planning to go about that, he beats you to it. “And don’t ask me how. Just—” he finally looks at you, “trust me.”

You can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod back.

The next morning, you wake up on the relatively right side of the bed for once until the events of yesterday come crashing down on you like an unprecedented avalanche, effectively robbing you of your good mood.

You chance a peek at the phone on your nightstand, debating whether or not to throw it away and religiously avoid social media for the rest of your days. After what feels like an hour, however, you decide against it and pick the gadget up.

Only to be met with 57 texts, 23 missed calls, and 300+ notifications on your Twitter and Instagram accounts each.

Your stomach sinks as the feeling of dread instantly washes over you. Overwhelmed, you click on one familiar message thread you have with your best friend.

(11:46 PM) bestie<3: girlllll (11:46 PM) bestie<3: what the actual FUCK pick up your phone (11:47 PM) bestie<3: NOT YOU PUNCHING THAT DOUCHEBAG (11:47 PM) bestie<3: and since when have you been dating dynamight??? HELLOOOO??? (11:47 PM) bestie<3: when were you planning to tell me all of this bc im lowkey salty (11:51 PM) bestie<3: girl…. you have to see this (11:51 PM) bestie<3: (see link)

Your fingers are practically trembling when you click on the link, and in hindsight, you’re glad you’re on your bed because what you see next makes you drop your phone:

BREAKING: #2 Pro-hero Dynamight seen at a wedding, alleged “date” punches the groom

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble

˖⁺‧�� as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a lovely day!

[rpgchoices]

The WINNER of the Tournament of fav tumblr rpg male romances is...

The Master of the Vollante

The Babe of Frontiers

The Heart of the Gate

WYLL RAVENGARD

Enjoy this two minute FANVIDEO DEDICATED TO HIM (don't miss the final quote, it is my favorite), I used the most appropriate song ever. Congrats, Wyll with a y!

(he is the hero, but he also needs a hero to sweep him off his feet, get it?)

With about 1235 votes, Wyll beat Garrus in the finals of the tournament. This gives him the title of best tumblr rpg blorbo and babygirl.

(more under cut about the Wyll's sweep and his character)

Wyll jumped into the tournament qualifying among 69 total characters, and being the most voted of his section in round zero! Wyll was also the most voted OVERALL in round one where he got about 6420 votes against Cullen (88% of votes). Round two saw him winning a very close competition against Zevran, and in round three he won with almost double the votes against Astarion! Again with double the votes he won against Dorian Pavus in the semifinals!

Very appropriate for him to win as his character is truly a romantic at heart and his actor even revealed in an interview that the romantic scenes were his favorite to film.

Wyll is a companion and romancable option for any gender in Baldur's Gate 3. You will meet him while he is in pursuit of a devil, just to find out that the honor and code he is trying to live by might be clashing with the path he could be choosing.

Wyll's romance has a kiss that has been nominated (and won) for "favorite kiss ever in a rpg game by me and for my opinion only and I just love it".

Man who will crack a joke when you least expect it

EVEN WHEN IT REALLY IS NOT THE TIME

Just to turn around and offer you the most heart shattering and unwavering support

Monster smasher (in all senses) hero, who truly needs someone at his side who makes sure he fights his own battles too, not just the trials of the coast!

Very happy to see he is currently (with all the biases and limitations of such polls, of course) the favorite romance in the rpg fandoms here on tumblr (for male characters)!!

Please, make sure to also jump in the female characters tournament!!

Also, CONGRATULATIONS TO GARRUS who came second in the tournament, and FENRIS who came third! (as he had more votes than Dorian, in the semifinals)

*In the fanvideo there are the seven clips that are not from Wyll games. I wanted to write them down as this is supposed to be a rec for his romance, so I don't want to trick people!

00:16 I modded Wyll into Karlach and used Astarion as player character (Karlach romance scene act 3)

00:38 Astarion romance scene, I played as Wyll but I flipped the character with the ring of metamorph mod so Wyll could pick up Astarion

00:50 Like the first clip, this is Karlach scene from act 3

00:51 I modded Karlach into Wyll, this is her scene from act 1

00:53 I modded Shadowheart into Astarion and I was playing as Wyll, this is Shadowheart romance scene in act 1

00:59 This is Astarion romance scene in act 2, I was playing as Wyll

01:07 The hug is from Astarion romance, epilogue, where I was playing as Wyll

[teastainedprose]

Too Sweet - Ch. 1 (Cooper Howard x Reader)

A settler selling wares in Filly catches The Ghoul's eye. Inspired by a Tumblr post asking for an angst fic to Hozier's Too Sweet. 1,753 words | [AO3] No warnings yet, only innocent flirting. Banner from @eupheme

The first time he spots you, Cooper thinks nothing of it. Sure, you look a little less worn down compared to the usual rabble roaming Filly. Certainly scrubbed a little cleaner than most but so were the rest of your companions. The lot of you are a curiosity for sure, but he's seen plenty of attractive women over the ages and known a handful carnally. He's not the sort of man to let a pretty face distract him. No, you don't get a second glance from the ghoul as he goes about his business. 

It's not until your laughter catches Cooper by the ear that he starts paying attention. Jerks his head right round at the sunny sound, attention diverting from the bounty board as he watches you engage with a customer. You laugh again, a merry delight that lights your face right up while the elderly woman you're chatting with laughs along. She's made brighter for being so close to you while you've suddenly become the sun in Cooper's eyes. A brightness he has to squint at when he looks over again to drink you in. His long-dead heart decides that it's about time to do a little flip.

That's a sensation he's not keen on feeling. Cooper hums under his breath, frown settling on his worn lips. He tugs the brim of his hat lower, turning away as he tries to focus on the task at hand. No good can come of fancying any sort of infatuation on a smoothie like you. You're not the sort of creature deserving of the trouble he could bring.

Yet Cooper finds he can't quite help himself. Wasteland life is full of little pleasures and looking at you sure counts as a bit of pleasure. Why not indulge?

The rest of the day as he sits waiting for a client to show, his eyes flicker over you. Wherever you're from, it's certainly kinder to you than what most folks in the Wasteland see. You almost look as soft as some fresh-faced Vaultie, but he can see that your hands are well-worn as you exchange produce for caps. A farmer of sorts. Homesteader.

He listens with a keener ear to the gossip swirling about you and those in your group. A little settler band situated out east, closer to the mountains and closer to what manages to grow green. He picks up that your lot wanders in every few weeks with produce to sell, or trade to stock up the settlement the collective group runs. 

Idly, he wonders what horseshit sort of ideology your commune might be sunk into, but if you're looking to spread a new sort of gospel none of your ilk seem keen on sharing it here. You're a welcome addition to the economy of Filly and it's clear that many enjoy the taste of hope this band of settlers bring in with their harvest. Cooper figures that's indoctrination enough from the harsh reality the Wasteland offers up.

Cooper finds himself wandering over to Ma June's place under the pretense of stocking up on supplies. There's suspicion in her eyes as he drops his intended purchases onto the counter but that's not out of the ordinary. There's always suspicion in the looks Ma June gives him, but she'll take his caps all the same.

"Say, now what's with that group of lil' farmers hauling in their produce like that? Can't imagine those soft-lookin' sorts making their way all the way here unmolested," he drawls out. His smile is crooked as Cooper counts through his caps to pay.

"Settlers, but the well-armed sort. No point in trifling with them. Too well-liked here for their fresh food supply they haul in," Ma June pulls the caps towards her, gaze fixed on the ghoul as she mutters. "They'll trade with ya, but keep out of their business. Ya hear?"

A hum escapes Cooper as he considers this, leaning onto the counter while glancing out the dusty window towards where you stand at the stall. He casually stashes his purchases into his saddlebag while going on conversationally.  "Well- Is that so? They a regular sort of fixture here in Filly now?"

"Have been setting up that stall going on half a year now. Surprised you've yet to come across 'em. Best cherry tomatoes you'll find in the Wasteland." Ma June eases back, arms crossing over her chest as a sour look settles in place on her worn face.

Another speculative hum escapes Cooper as he digests this information before he tips his hat to Ma June and goes on his way. Which happens to lead him straight to your stall.

Once there, Cooper casually plucks up potatoes, a handful of cherry tomatoes, and okra. All of it looks as vegetables should, the sort he would have found at the grocery store before everything went to shit. 

"How much for this lot?" He sets the small bounty atop the open space on the stall. Cooper gives you his Hollywood smile that would charm the pants off of any woman in bygone days, except now his face is a leathery wreck and his teeth are yellowed with age. Most people instantly flinch away in disgust.

Not you.

You smile like the morning sun towards him as you step closer while dusting your hands off on your pants. The bit of dirt smeared on your face only seems to enhance your features in Cooper's eyes. The look you give him is almost shy once you meet his gaze, smiling warmly up to him. 

Cooper finds that curious. He's familiar with a scowl or grimace of disgust when anyone looks him in the face, but here you are gracing him with an easy smile. A customer is a customer, he figures, and he'll do well enough. Yet, your friendliness doesn't feel like an act. Even after all these years, Cooper Howard still can clock other actors.

"Fifteen caps for the whole lot, but I'll throw in an extra sweet potato for the smile." You wink. Wink right at him as your smile grows. "They're good for ya, handsome." You add casually, the smile tugging up further into a cheeky grin. Your expression shifts. Playful. Coy. Interested.

Ain't that something? Cooper doesn't falter at the full force of your attention. He's too old and worn for that, but he sure does grin right back with a twinkle in his eye. Even an old ghoul like him can enjoy a pretty thing like you openly flirting with him.

Now that he’s heard it, Cooper decides your voice is sweet as a silver bell. The sort of soothing tone that reminds him of rain softly pelting a windowpane. It's the sort of sound that makes him wish to stay and listen for a while, tucked into the warmth that he suddenly wants you to offer up. He wants to get you talking to hear more. Wonders how he can coax you into a conversation.

That’s a fucking stupid idea. Cooper mentally shakes himself free of the passing fancy, head tilting ever so slightly as he peers down at you from the shadow of his hat. "Mhm. Ain't trying to get me hooked now are you, sweetheart?

"Something like that." 

“Well now, reckon vegetables ain’t the worst sort of vice a man can get lost in.” Cooper still can’t help himself. He lets his eyes wander right down your body before flicking back up to your face, what sort of vice he’s pondering made clear.

That flush on your cheeks blooms all the hotter as you laugh for him, the sound an utter delight when directed his way. You smile, sweet and shy now as you pluck up a hefty sweet potato to set beside the rest of his purchases. 

“Oh, well-” You start, stop with a small shake of your head as you smile all the wider. Utterly disarmed.

Cooper counts out the requested coin with a speculative hum, mirth sparking in his eyes as it seems he’s rendered you speechless. It’s down-right adorable if he’s being honest with himself. You’re a right little temptation he’d like to play with further. A dangerous thought.

Setting the coins onto the counter, he's swift in sweeping up his new bounty and stowing it all away into a pouch within his saddle bag. This close you're too bright and Cooper knows he's in trouble. Best to break away before you pull him into your orbit in full.

“You take care of yourself now, sweetheart,” Cooper drawls. He tips his hat towards you and turns away with spurs clicking. You watch him go, cheeks still flaming.

You know who he is. The Ghoul, the most famous Bounty Hunter the radiated Wastelands has to offer. You've heard all the rumors and truer tales about him all your life but nothing could prepare you for seeing him in the flesh. A dangerous sort of creature. A man who always brings his bounty in. 

You'd been watching him all day, stealing glances as you work. Now that you've seen him up close and personal? You're down-right fascinated. He’s nothing like the monster the stories painted him out to be. At least, he certainly wasn’t monstrous to you. There’s something captivating about him. Charming, even. 

You’ve seen ghouls before, of course. You know their kind as some live on the settlement with you. The majority end up shambling and ungainly, limbs no longer listening as the radiation rot wars with their regeneration abilities. A confusion that makes most of them uncoordinated and awkward in their transformed bodies, but The Ghoul? He’s got a swagger to his step that reminds you of those cowboys you’ve seen on ancient holotapes. 

He’s been lurking at the edge of your awareness all day, your head cocking in his direction to listen to the cadence of his voice as he bartered for bullets and talked business outside of the bar over yonder.

A thrill had jolted through you the moment he started to move towards your stall. The nervous energy thrumming through you had been made all the worse when you met The Ghoul’s gaze for the first time. A woman could find herself lost in such eyes and you’d certainly tripped right into them. Boldly meeting this stranger’s gaze and enjoying every second his attention was on you.

Shame he left so quickly. You sigh, turning back to count out bottlecaps he’d left as you turn your attention back to work. Best not to think about it. You’re unlikely to see that legend ever again.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 4)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer picks you to be his baby mama. Rated E

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

You’re resting against the trunk of a tree at the top of a little hill.

It’s picturesque — the hill is gentle, sloping down to a field of tall yellow-green grass. You can smell it, wafting up with the pollen from golden flowers. The sky above is alive with pinks and oranges bleeding into yellows and whites. A symphony of coos, chirps and pitter-patters of tiny things skittering around have an oddly calming effect as you settle back and allow yourself to exist. 

Eyes closed, you hear the sound of something larger than a mouse rounding the tree trunk. 

“I got it!” A feminine voice breaks the calm.

You don’t have to look to feel the other person at your side. They lower themselves to the ground, knees brushing against yours when they cross their legs to sit next to you. 

You don’t have to look, but you do. 

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

She’s not wearing any clothes, and you can see faint scars and wrinkles against the uninterrupted expanse of her skin. 

“It’s so pretty, I’ve never seen one so red.” The woman is happy to see you, speaking with all the familiarity of a sister. 

She presents an apple to you, taken from behind her back like a surprise. 

It is red. Red like an oversized ruby, or a still-beating heart full of blood. All except for the missing chunk made by delicate teeth, yellow-white meat peeking through.

You accept her offering without a word. Even when it’s imperfect, you’re mesmerized by the fruit.

“I took a bite. I’m sorry.” She gazes at you, eyes flinty. “Does that bother you?”

You shake your head vehemently, holding the apple between your hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “No, of course not.”  

The woman’s lips quirk up into a satisfied smile, growing bigger when you lift the apple to your mouth and bite into it. The taste is extraordinary — sweet juice bursts against your tongue when the crisp flesh gives under your teeth with barely any resistance.

You savor the first bite out of necessity but soon you’re ravenous. You can’t get enough. 

Your companion exhales gently through her nose and looks up at the colorful sky. She seems to relish in the breeze that passes by, making the leaves above you rustle and the tall grass ahead blow back quietly. 

The apple is almost gone when she looks back at you, teeth showing as she grins. “Careful there!”

She giggles, reaching out to tap the hand of your hand in warning. It’s all playful, even when you pout and draw back. 

“You’ll eat the seeds if you keep that up.” She says. “Something might take root and grow if you do.” 

Her words give you pause, but only for the length of four or five heartbeats. The core of the apple is no less refreshing and before you know it, you’re holding the stem. 

“Thank you.” You tell her earnestly. 

The stem rolls in your palm, until it appears to wiggle and your brow furrows. In the back of your mind, you think you should be more startled to see it moving on its own. But when it grows pink-gray and ringed, and you realize it’s a worm, you simply place the flat of your hand on the ground below and watch it find its way into the dirt. 

Sudden warmth against your cheek has you looking back up. The woman is inches from your face. Her eyelashes are dark and long and you could count them if you wanted. 

The woman kisses you without a word, hands coming up to cup the back of your head. Surprise does spark up your spine as her tongue darts behind your lips. It’s as if she’s drinking deeply from you before she lets go. 

“Forgive me. I wanted another taste.” She giggles again. “It’s even sweeter than I remember.” 

Your face burns. You open your mouth, ready to ask the questions burning the tip of your tongue before the thud of footsteps sound from behind you. 

She frowns, light leaving her eyes as she glances behind your shoulder. “Oh I was hoping we’d have more time.” 

Her eyes cut across to yours. “Wake up before he sees you!”

———

A wave of pure, unadulterated nausea swept over you as soon as you opened your eyes. You laid still for a long moment, trying to reign in the urge to vomit before you deemed it safe enough to observe your surroundings. 

A vague sense of confusion surfaced through the malaise when you realized that you were in your living room. There was a carmine blanket tucked around you, and with moderate difficulty you raised your head to see that, yes, a fluffy pillow was resting under your head.

Your reality conflicted with the still-present smell of tall, wet grass and a chill from the summer breeze against your skin.

With ridiculous care, you turned your head back into the pillow and muffled a whine. You couldn’t recall feeling a hangover of this caliber ever before in your life.

‘Wait.’

You weren’t hungover. Well, maybe you were but not from alcohol. 

Your neighbors had invited you to dinner, then drugged you. 

Already sick, you forced yourself to breathe deeply before shifting on the couch and pulling up the blanket. Despite confirming that your body was still clothed, you found yourself shaking. 

It didn’t make sense to you how anyone could do this regardless of their intentions. You could not fathom why two people willing to harm you in one way hadn’t done more than that. 

Your relief was short-lived, as dull and diluted as it was, when you twisted to lay back down and came face-to-face with:

A black glove, some aspirin and a glass of water sat on your coffee table.

You blinked rapidly.

There was a small business card in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless ensemble. It was thick stock, white, and flashing fancy golden script:

Lucifer Morningstar

Your stomach dropped as an unnaturally white face with glowing yellow and red eyes flashed in your mind. 

The hallucination you’d seen last night — his image faded from your mind and you were left drifting in a blank, black void. 

No thoughts. 

———

The headache and nausea were considerably lesser when you woke up again. 

Looking at the items on your coffee table — ‘glove, aspirin, water still there’ — you looked at each one and for one, strangely hopeful moment you didn’t see a card. 

Oh no, it had just fallen on the floor. 

———

Lucifer Morningstar 

It was an odd business card, with its little red, white and gold designs on the edges. Fireworks, you eventually guessed. The ‘i’ in both first and last name were punctuated with them as well. 

As you’d popped the aspirin in your mouth and downed the water, you flipped the card over. You could feel your eyebrows rising to your hairline at the hastily written message on the back:

Proof you weren’t dreaming. 

Please Call Me

1-666-666-6669

Pacing was out of the question. Your limbs were still unsteady no matter how much you willed them to function. 

You were trapped on the couch trying to accept what your brain had been screaming at you since you awoke for the fifth time. 

How much time had passed? 

                                      Heaven and Hell were real, and so were God and the Devil. 

            And the Devil had paid you a visit. 

———

The indent you’d made into your stupid, hand-me-down sofa was probably permanent now that you’d spent who knows how long just rotting there. 

Contemplating, processing, fearing. 

Fleeting memories of tantrums you’d thrown as a child paralyzed you. Moments in your life that you’d already regretted so much they kept you up some nights — randomly, provoked by nothing — piled up in your brain. Each one harshened that sinking feeling inside your body. This kind of horror was the kind a person feels right before they die. 

How long have you been judged from above for your wrongs?

Were you already doomed to Hell? Is that why Lucifer himself wanted ‘to meet’ you? Did he make it a personal habit to visit each lowly sinner and taunt them?

God was real, so did everything actually happen for a reason like so many said? 

Why did bad things happen to good people? 

Was your dog in heaven, waiting for you and you’d already disappointed her by getting a one way ticket in the opposite direction?

———

You figured out that the ringing in your ears was actually your phone’s alarm when the natural lighting in your apartment was almost gone. 

You managed to get to it on the other side of the room half-stumbling from your seat. 

“Hello?” You rasped.

“… So you finally decided to answer your phone.”

———

It took you banging on the door and shouting against its old, glossy surface before Cass Farrow cracked it open. 

A myriad of expressions crossed her painted face before she opened the door fully. When she faced you, she smiled. 

“Honey! It’s been days! We didn’t wanna bother you but we were worried! It’s good to see you up and about!” 

The way she acted, as if nothing was wrong, as if the world had turned upside down, had you balling up your fists. Your ragged nails delved into the skin so deeply you could feel the sting of blood.

“I-I need…” You couldn’t stop the copper taste of saliva filling your mouth. 

You would not throw up. “I need to speak to your boss.”

Cass blinked owlishly at that. “My what?”

‘Why? Why? Why are you shocked?’ You shouted in your mind.

“Oh honey,” The low tone did nothing to soothe you, only raise your ire. “I don’t know what —” 

“The Devil!” Your raised voice made the elderly woman jump. “Or Lucifer, or Baphomet — whatever the fuck you call him! I need to talk to him.” 

You scrambled to grab the business card you’d stashed in your pocket. 

“You had him in your apartment, so I know he’s in there somewhere.” You said while waving it in Cass’s face frantically. 

It was deja vú when Mrs. Farrow eyed the card and her face paled considerably. 

“Oh.” 

———

Lucifer wasn’t ‘home’. At least, he wasn’t in his personal Airbnb via the Farrow residence. 

However, Cass waved it away. “He’ll think it’s you or about you or something to do with you and come running.”

Trying to push yourself and demand she tell you more proved to be too difficult. All you could do is stand with your arms crossed, waiting while the (clearly practiced) worshiper combined a series of dried plants in her hands. 

Cass gathered them up and laid them carefully on a side table before fiddling with the furnace and a long lighted match.  

The fire blazed to life instantly from the little flicker it had begun as when Cass threw the plants in. It rose higher, and higher, until it had disappeared past where you could see behind the lintel. 

You had it in you to be stunned when Lucifer appeared from out of those flames. He was perfectly pristine and intact when he stepped out, hunching slightly to avoid his top hat bumping into the smoke chamber. 

The devil was as you remembered him, but also worse in that you couldn’t reassure yourself that his visage was merely a product of your fucked up, overly-imaginative little brain. 

He was so… white.

His skin was practically blinding as freshly-painted walls hit by a sunbeam. 

Lucifer stepped into the room with a flourish. “I came as soon as I coul-”

‘Fuck.’ You’d been spotted. 

And there went Cass, out of the living room to hide away in her smelly kitchen. 

“You’re here!” Lucifer cajoled, theatrics on full display as he beheld your presence. 

The top hat came off, held in his hands as he graced you with a bashful smile like he was some gentleman caller and not Not-Satan. 

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here waiting! But I’m so glad you are. Did you get my card? I thought about just leaving the glove because the card can seem so impersonal —”

“I just got fired.” You blurted out. 

The unusually flat face contorted into an anguished expression. “You… you lost your job…?”

“Because of you.” 

“B-because of me ?!” His already youthful tenor of a  voice raised some octaves. “What —”

You pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! You !”

“You appeared out of nowhere and fucked up my entire worldview. I've had existential crisis-es… cris-ies? I don’t fucking — I’ve had life-altering spirals before but that was fucking nothing compared with this!” 

“And now I’m out of a job and I’m alone in a city I don’t fucking know with cult-worshipping neighbors because I can’t go back to where I was and you’re just standing here like you have no idea why I’m upset!” 

You hadn’t expected to get this far. You hadn’t expected to go on a tirade at all, really. Distantly you felt tears sliding down your cheeks and the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage. 

Shame, guilt and fear began toiling deep inside you. 

Lucifer had been backed against the wall, hands raised placatingly and expression mirroring your own internal panic. It quickly turned into concern as he took in your sorry state of being. 

“Please, no.” He reached out for you and you retaliated by jolting out of reach. “Oh please don’t… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I never… if I’d known…”

He was reaching into his coat and pulling something out before your sight cleared. It was a handkerchief with the red moniker L.M. on one corner. 

The King held it out to you like a peace offering. Or a white flag.

The force with which you snatched it out of his hands was unnecessary but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You said you picked me. What did you mean by that?” You mumbled into the handkerchief. 

Lucifer’s mouth screwed up into a frown, brow creasing. “We don’t have to talk about that —”

“No.” You made eye contact, watching him squirm. “We need to talk about it. Explain it. Now.”

“Ahh… ok, yes, um…” He fiddled with the bow tie at his collar. “Well, like I said before, I wanted to wait until we got to know each other because… because it’s kind of a big deal.” 

Your stern frown implored him to continue.

Lucifer winced. “It’s sort of a-a favor I wanted to ask of you. And I thought that if we talked about it over time maybe it wouldn’t sound so monumental… but actually, now…”

The fidgeting worsened, and his nimble fingers had graduated to fussing with the clasps down his front. Eventually, Lucifer yanked his jacket down to straighten it. 

“So, I’ve been around for a really, really, really, really long time.” The Devil started. “And I’ve kind of been on my own for *like* ever and that’s fine, whatever, can’t complain. Normally it’s all about warding off boredom.

“But! Lately, it’s been harder and harder to just —” He made a fist and punched down onto the palm of his other hand to elucidate. “— Just, ahh, not be bored? I guess?”

“And it’s been interfering with all the shit I gotta do. I mean I have no-oo motivation, none at all, and it’s becoming a big problem. The other Sins have actually noticed. Like Satan? You know, we talked about him when we met — yeah, he came up to me not too long ago, saying —”

Your heart stopped as Lucifer’s eyes went completely red, blazing in his skull like magma and accompanied by long horns protruding from his head. 

His voice took on an unearthly, gravelly quality as he, presumably, mimicked Satan: 

“‘We’re worried for you, man. Ozzie says you haven’t been returning his calls. Levi and Bee miss you on their outings but you always say you’re busy. Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to us, right?’”

Lucifer was back to normal in a millisecond. “And I do know that. I do! But as much as I wanna take them up on it, I just feel like none of them will really understand what’s wrong. I don’t even understand it. Or at least I didn’t until it came to me out of nowhere, like lightning.” 

He mimed being zapped in the head.

“Visits and parties with my brothers are fun and all, but they end... And I find myself all alone more often than not.”

Lucifer sighed deeply. 

“I don’t really have anything to live for,” He stressed. “Except for myself and…” 

“That’s not much.” He snickered mirthlessly. 

You swallowed. The anger, frustration, exhaustion and still-present fear were blanketed by an uncomfortable bout of sympathy. 

Sympathy for the Devil. 

‘Oh shut the fuck up you.’

“Don’t you live for the suffering of mankind or something?” You sniffled, trying to regain your metaphorical footing in the conversation and, in turn, regenerate that anger you’d been consumed by not a minute ago. 

Lucifer looked from the ground to you, the gleam in his cherry-red eyes fighting to come back to life.

“Aha! No, no. That’s-that’s a Bible thing, right?” He groaned, pulling down the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ugh, I still don’t know why Heaven insists on that overblown press kit! It’s so fucking old! And inaccurate!” 

Lucifer commiserated with you. “Too much involvement from human hands, too. Ya know? I mean people use it to justify some of the most insane shit I’ve ever seen!”

He cleared his throat at your blank expression. 

“Anywho-oo. What was the question again? Oh! Oh, do I live for the suffering of man — no! No, I don’t. In fact, where I’m from? Being in the middle of that suffering shtick gets old real fast. I’ve stayed away from it for a good while now and really I’ve never been better.”

The blond topped off his statement with a smile, showing those razor teeth while also trying to come across as easy-going and candid. 

A beat passed, in which you felt your lips form a thin line. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. 

You snorted. 

Lucifer looked at you as if you’d lost your head as your snorts turned into full-blown laughter. Until he, of course, wanted to fit in like he knew exactly what was going on. 

“Hahaha, yeah…” Hell’s king chuckled nervously. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I? Ha ha… ha.”

 Shaking your head ‘no’, you tried to reign in the body spasms. 

“So when you say you ‘picked me’, you mean you want me to… what? Be your therapist?” You asked. “The Devil needs a friend’s shoulder to cry on? What?” 

Lucifer fixed you with the first look of genuine annoyance you’d seen (directed at you) from him. 

“No.” He harrumphed. “I need a baby.” 

*

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision

I'm so sorry if I missed anyone who asked to be tagged! I'm having a hard time keeping track.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying

James Potter x Reader

Summary: You had always been the sort to keep to yourself, never expecting any attention. That is until a mysterious letter is slipped under your door…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, reader low key hates James at the begging but it’s for the plot I swear! No use of Y/N, reader is in the girls’ dorms but gender is rarely specified, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.4K

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summer shifted with a gust of wind, dragging with it the soft chill of the Scottish coast. The leaves turned from emerald to amber, marking the start of your final year at Hogwarts.

Gryffindor had instilled a sense of courage in you, one that you often left at home when returning to the brooding towers that form your school. So, with the brewing feeling of newfound bravery in your heart, you approached the Gryffindor common room with the mentality that this will be your year.

The crowded floor of the comforting common room was painted with school shoes and flashes of red as your fellow house members danced in a flurry of reunions and affections. Yeah…this will be your year. Once you figure out how to socialise without cringing from embarrassment.

You shifted past the cliques and gangs, attempting to find your more resolved group of companions. Standing on the stairs by the girls’ dorms was the sight you were hoping for.

“Charlie! Hope!” You called, striding over to your much loved roommates.

“I’m surprised you survived the stampede down there, come to safety!” Charlie joked with open arms, guiding you into a warm embrace.

“Seems like the summer didn’t do much for the maturity in this house…” Hope muttered into your shoulder as she joined the reunion, glancing at the chaos ensuing behind you.

Charlie and Hope were your personal lifelines, a combination of wits and humility that allowed you to embrace the more tentative side of yourself. You first bonded over your shock discoveries as Gryffindors, as opposed to your predicted places in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. While none of you were sure of why or how you found yourselves in the house of courage and bravery - or as you often called it, the pit of egos and self-righteousness - you certainly found a home between the pair, never stepping outside the social boundaries of your timid trio.

You marched towards the comfort of your dorm, arms linked with your companions and back turned to a pair of unacknowledged, watchful eyes, shaded by rounded glasses.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James often found hellos to be even harder than goodbyes, a swelling of tears and joy erupting from the boy’s face the second he laid his golden eyes on his mischievous friends. Sirius, Remus and Peter lined the couch territorially, leaving space in the middle for one James Potter to jump into in excited greeting.

“Prongs! We thought you’d never show!” Exclaimed Sirius in a lighthearted tone, smirking at the boy’s glowing grin. “Glad to see us, then?”

“Oh Pads, you know I’d never miss a single day with you by my side if I had the choice!” James met his friend’s playful tone, though his genuine affection shone through the string of words he praised. He found comfort against the back of the couch, bursting into a ramble of “how are you?”, “I missed you” and “what did you do over the summer?” which the other Marauders dutifully answered with similar excitement.

James was busy engaging with Sirius’ vengeful tale of redeeming himself through a series of pranks planned for the coming school year when he found himself glancing towards a familiar figure above the crowd. Your hair reflected the light of the room, almost as if an angel’s halo surrounded your head. Your face, lit up with familiarity at your friends’ embrace, caused a physical reaction from the boy as his lips parted. Had you gotten even more hauntingly beautiful since the last year? James didn’t think it was possib-

“Pro-ongs, I think it’s about time you made a move on that lovely little bird, don’t you?” Sirius sang, inching closer to the captivated face of his friend. A light dusting of peachy blush turned dark on his cheeks under the sudden attention. “I- what? W-who?” James laughed, though he knew full well that his friends had caught onto his not-so-little crush years ago.

“I mean, if she’s so distracting that you can’t even focus on one of the most engaging plots for revenge ever crafted by the master of mischief,” Sirius gestured to himself, “then I don’t see why you shouldn’t try for an actual conversation with her. Moony here was just agreeing with me before you arrived, weren’t you, sweet stuff?”

Sirius turned to the boy sitting on the other side of the young Potter as Remus nodded in reserved agreement. “I know you think she’d never go for a boy like you, James, but Sirius has a point.” Remus advised. James considered his friends’ logical conclusions, realising he should probably come to the same.

There’s not long left, Potter, he told himself. We’ll graduate and the only person you’ve ever really felt something for will be out of your grasp forever. It’s now or never. “Ok…ok, I’ll do it. This will be the year. This will be my year.” James responded, eyes still lingering on you as you walked towards your dorm, slowly shrinking in his line of sight. His friends cheered in satisfied agreement. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Unpacked trunks and flittering gossip filled your dorm room walls as you giggled with your loyal friends. “So…any chance one of you might pursue a love life for once?” Hope teased, despite her own lack of romantic involvement. Charlie let out a scoff, grinning her lopsided grin at Hope’s curiosity. “Certainly not in this house, but there might be a few lucky souls in the others who could try to keep up with me.” She laughed with you and Hope, basking in the joy that only you three could harvest from one another.

“Any boys catch your eye? Oh! Maybe any girls?” Hope turned the question to you as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “Some of these kids might as well just date themselves at this point! I mean, how can you love yourself that much and leave any room to love someone else?” You cried, exasperation shaping your tone. “Are we talking about who I think we’re talking ab-“ “OH you mean the Marauders!?” Charlie exclaimed, interrupting Hope’s more subtle approach to the subject.

“Of course I’m talking about those good for nothing clowns,” You responded, “They’re too preoccupied with themselves to even notice anyone else! On the last week of the last year, Sirius managed to shove me into a wall in the hallway without blinking an eye. He was too caught up in his own reflection in the polished floor to notice! Remus and Peter turn a blind eye to all the mischief their friends cause, and only if they themselves aren’t involved. And that boy, James Potter…” You continue your ranting, “it’s like there’s no thoughts behind that smug face of his! He bumped into me as we both attempted to exit through a classroom door at the same time, pushing my books out of my arms and onto the floor. I looked at him expectedly for some sort of sign to show he was apologetic, but he just stood and stared at me wide-eyed! That is, before he scurried away as if he was suddenly half his own size, looking like a rodent in an athlete’s body!”

Charlie and Hope shared a knowing look when you commented on the last Marauder’s appearance, communicating a silent assumption that you weren’t quite as annoyed with the head boy as you were confused. “I digress…” you concluded with a flushed expression. “If any boy in this house even attempts to approach me I should hope for his sake that he’s matured at a rate faster than the speed of light over the summer, otherwise he doesn’t stand a-“

Pshhh.

All eyes in the room turn towards the door. A light blue envelope with dark ink scribbled on the front sat patiently at the base of the door, having just been pushed below from a mysterious source on the other side.

“…chance.” You finished, curiosity propelling your trio towards the unfamiliar object. Labeled on the front, communicating with newfound clarity now that you had closed the distance between yourself and the letter, was a boyish, unpolished mark of your name. Quiet settled on the three of you for a moment. “OH. MY. GOD!” Charlie exclaimed, snatching the paper from the floor and sprinting towards your bed. “Hey, wait for me! I want to read it too!” Hope pursued your friend. Lastly, you rose from your position on the floor and slowly approached the bed as your friends eagerly ripped open the letter.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Thank you for reading! I intend on expanding this into a pretty fluffy series with James trying to win reader over ;) sorry for the slow chapter, it will get more eventful in future updates now that the context is established. Part 2 is up! Comment to be added to the taglist <3

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Seo Haesu for the First Time

Requested. G/N. Here are the the miniscule crumbs!

There's a guy sitting at your usual table.

Not that you own the table, or you were particularly fond of that spot. But routine breeds familiarity and you've been coming to this gimbap restaurant for years now; you know the owners by name, and that table is as good as reserved for you.

(Except it's a casual little hole in the wall that doesn't take reservations, and this is just you being bratty.)

Nevertheless, despite your table being taken (as is every other one) - the food is too delicious, ingredients too fresh, price too cheap, and it's too awkward to back out now that the kind ajussi behind the counter has spotted you.

With a sigh, you ask the guy if the chair opposite is taken, if he minds you sitting there and he gives you an almost imperceptible shrug.

"Thanks," you murmur, dropping into the seat.

.

.

He's really quiet and kinda rude.

You notice his overgrown bangs pricking into his eyes because he's openly staring at you. Head propped up on hand and lazily chewing, observing you with a half lidded gaze.

He doesn't even try to hide it.

"What?" you ask defensively, eyes narrowing and folding your arms.

That annoying shrug, the small lift of shoulders, comes again and you feel like hitting him.

"Creep," you mutter, pulling out your phone and keeping your eyes glued to it because at least that's something to distract you as you wait for your food.

You think you hear a huff of laughter but you don't bother to look at him.

The next time you lift your head, the seat is empty, and there's not a crumb left on his plate.

.

.

Misfortune strikes you again and again when you find the guy at your table every single time.

What's worse is all the other seats are taken. Every single damn time too.

He seems to have lost interest in you after the first meeting and instead diverts all his attention to his food.

There's a few things you notice:

1) He eats like it's his last meal. Packing away more food possible than you thought a guy of his size could on a regular basis.

2) He loves tuna gimbap. The banchan he seems to pick at and reluctantly finish, but he eats rolls and rolls of gimbap like it's going out of style.

3) You're actually impressed. As would anyone if they saw someone wolf down thirteen rolls in front of them.

He finds you staring that particular day, and his arm comes round to protectively cover his food, raising his eyebrows in challenge. As if to say 'Get your own.'

"I've got my own!" You growl, answering him out loud.

You gesture to your own gimbap, your own special that the owners know exactly how you like it and double filled at no extra cost.

His eyes zero in on your food, and he's much more interested than he was on the first day and all the other times since then. For a moment you think he's going to launch across the table and swipe it for himself.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then tells you, "That looks good."

It's the first time you've heard him speak. His voice is raspier than you expected. You don't bother to respond and eat your own food at record pace out of spite.

.

.

He watches your food, not you, each time afterwards. Picks at his tuna gimbap with the same bored air as the banchan and eats like it's a chore instead of the previous fervour.

"You know you can order something else, right?" You say, fed up with your involuntary companion.

He shrugs, the air of resignation around him cancelling out your urge to roll your eyes.

"Here." You slide a couple pieces over to him, surprised at yourself for your kind gesture but if it means he's going to stare less and make you feel less self-conscious, then it can only be a win.

WIth his chopsticks, he brings your gimbap to his nose, gives it a sniff and looks directly at you.

"Seo Haesu," he says, a faint smirk on his lips before popping it into his mouth.

He closes his eyes, chewing carefully and savouring the flavour.

[daytaker]

Hiiii! I’m the anon that asked for the MC’s family request and it was hilarious, 10/10 if you don’t mind May i possibly ask for a part 2 with the dateables? Thanks for reading!

(Part 1: The Brothers)

"Mom, Dad, these are my other four boyfriends and my son."

...is what you almost do say when there's a knock at the door a few weeks later while you're entertaining your parents, your sister, and teenage cousin who's stuck with your folks while your aunt is on a cruise. Your parents stare at you with faces that all but beg you to ignore the damn door. Is it that cult again?

"Open the door! Is it that cult again?" your sister asks with shining eyes. She's been discussing going backpacking across the country ever since she met those seven hot guys who apparently adore you now. Your parents are devastated.

"Cult?" asks your cousin, looking up from his Switch with dead eyes. Your sister starts explaining to him as you go to the door and look through the peephole.

Oh, Christ. Oh, fuck. Oh, son of Gardonus---it's the son of Gardonus.

Opening the door just partway, you see that it's not just Diavolo. No, he brought the whole crew with him. Barbatos, naturally, but also Solomon, Simeon, and even little Luke. Diavolo holds a bouquet of flowers and Luke has a covered platter that almost certainly contains some kind of cake.

"Hiiiii, guys..."

"MC! It's been too long!" laughs Diavolo in his booming voice.

"It's been...a month..." you concede. Why, just...why...do all these handsome men find you so alluring? This is just your cross to bear, apparently. "It isn't a great time though, so---"

"Is that them?" Your cousin is standing behind you, peering out the door.

"No, this is... Who the hell...? MC, don't tell me there are more of them?!" Your sister is clearly astounded, and also quite delighted. "Invite them in! Invite them in!"

So, soon you're standing in the middle of your tiny apartment again, surrounded by friends and family, holding flowers and a cake, and feeling like you'd love it if a chasm in the earth opened up and swallowed you.

"There were more?" Your mom sounds hurt, like you'd been intentionally hiding things from her. "How many more besides these?!"

"Arguably three, but I don't know them well enough for them to visit," you say, winking reassuringly to the nervous author.

"Oh my god, there's a kid?!" Your sister has noticed Luke now. "Holy shit! Whose is he?"

You point mutely to Simeon, who smiles uncomfortably and waves.

"I'm not a kid!" Luke protests. "I'm--"

"You're a pre-teen. We know, Luke. We know." Solomon laughs dangerously, and Luke doesn't put up any more arguments.

You clear your throat. God, this is even more uncomfortable than the last go-round.

"Um, so. Everyone, I'd like you to meet---"

(Individuals are below the cut!)

Diavolo

Diavolo, who was never good at standing by quietly while other people talked, steps forward before you have a time to do any introductions. He extends a hand to your father, who has been eyeing him resentfully all this time.

"You all must be MC's relatives. What a delightful person you've brought into this world! I am Diavolo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"'Diavolo'?" your cousin mutters, looking at his Switch screen again. "Like from JoJo?"

Dia looks very confused, and as your father hasn't shaken his hand, he smiles awkwardly at you. "Perhaps I'm approaching this the wrong way? Are the customs here very different from...ahem. Where we are from?"

"You mean Italy?" your cousin says.

"Ah-- Yeah. Dia's Italian. People here are a lot less friendly," you tell him.

Your sister asks him how someone like him ended up in a cult.

You remind everyone that you were not in a cult.

"But you met my baby while they were away from home," Mom says accusingly, glaring at Diavolo. "When they were vulnerable and confused."

Diavolo has no idea what to say to that. Your dad is still glaring at him.

Solomon

"This is Solomon. He's---"

"I'm their mentor and closest companion," Solomon says helpfully, taking your hand. "We have a very special relationship."

You really wish that chasm would stop taking its sweet time and open up already.

"Mentor? Special relationship?" Dad finally speaks up, and his arms are crossed over his chest, his expression deadly serious.

"This must be your father," Solomon observes, still smiling. "Sir, it's an honor to finally meet you. I hope I have an opportunity to speak with you privately later. We have a lot to discuss."

Your mom is ready to throw hands with this guy. Your sister is enchanted. Your cousin is cursing under his breath at his Switch.

Solomon wraps an arm around your shoulders and you elbow him in the gut. He smiles through the pain but lets you go.

Simeon

"...Simeon. Simeon, these are my parents. This is my sister, and this is---"

"Is there some sort of attractiveness requirement to join this cult?" your sister asks, beaming at Simeon.

You remind her that there is no cult.

Surprisingly, your parents don't seem nearly as hostile to Simeon. Maybe it's that angelic charm at work. They both shake his hand, which is significantly more than they were willing to do with anyone else.

"Simeon, that's a good, decent name. What do you do for a living?"

"I own and operate a cafe."

Nice one, Simeon. Very smooth. And your parents look even more impressed.

"A business owner, eh? And at such a young age..."

No one points out to them that Simeon has probably been alive longer than humans have existed.

Luke

"...Luke!" He has a completely normal human name! High fives all around!

"And that's his father?" Mom points at Simeon. "He looks awfully young..."

"Oh, Luke's an orphan. Simeon's just his guardian. It's really sad actually. His parents died when their car careened off a cliff."

How did he end up living with a cult though, they want to know. That Simeon guy can't be a very responsible caregiver if he's living on the road.

You explain to your family (again) that they aren't in a cult, that Luke is a totally normal orphan child with a stable and loving home, and yes, Mom, he goes to school. Yes, Mom, he eats vegetables. No, Mom, you don't need to call DCFS.

"He's so cute," your sister coos.

"I am not!" Luke yaps.

"And he's shaking and everything! You know what he reminds me of?"

You rub your temples.

"A Chihuahua."

Barbatos

"This is, uh... This is..."

Barbatos smiles at you and offers not an iota of assistance. He finds this entire thing pretty funny.

"This is Barb... Barbados..."

"What, like the island?" your sister asks.

Yes.... Just like the island....

And yeah, he talks. Sometimes he talks a lot. I don't know why he isn't talking. Barbs, say something.

"It is an honor to finally meet your family, MC. What a charming collection of people."

"I like your hair," your cousin says, actually looking up for once. "And those are pretty sick beads."

You agree that Barbatos's human clothes are pretty sick.

Did you say human clothes? That was weird of you.

Your mother asks why everyone in the cult paints their nails besides Simeon and Luke. You tell her that there is no cult, but, uh, it's just a fashion thing. They just like it. Don't be judgmental.

Your cousin agrees. Don't be judgmental, Auntie. He paints his nails black. So, like, what, is he in a cult now?

You remind everyone that there is not and never was a cult.

Your cousin tries to give Barbatos his Tiktok and tumblr accounts, and Barbatos smiles very graciously but refuses on the grounds that he does not have a Tiktok or tumblr.

After you manage to get the group out of your apartment, shoving Solomon out as he farewells you as his adorable apprentice, you slam the door shut and lock it.

Your parents smile at each other, agreeing that you could do much worse than that nice Simeon boy. Your sister insists that she is going to backpack across the country with at least ten or eleven hot men, even if they do have a kid with them, and nobody is going to stop her. And your cousin has put down his Switch and is now designing a vampire OC that looks suspiciously like Barbatos.

[companion-showdown]

Who do you most wish had become a companion?

TOURNAMENT MASTERPOST

[felassan]

Thoughts on the updated companions screenshots:

Lucanis: in a few screenshots now it's looked to me that Lucanis has a slightly 'crooked' nose and I love that feature! in this shot you can see that at the bottom of the 5 little vial things there's a small spike. the design of the opposite side has the impression of a ring pull. here the purple bit almost looks like fluid held in a sort of glassware. vials of poison for enemies (the Crows make use of poison), or something Lucanis needs to take regularly himself, with a sort of injection delivery system? or simply vials of something with a decorate spike at the base, and the part with the ring-pull looking bit is simply the lid/screw off top? in this shot you can also really appreciate the bird-like inspirations in Lucanis' whole character design. like he has an aquiline quality, the way his hair fluffs out a lil bit at the sides reminds of wings, etc.

Davrin: this shot is a more complete crop of one of the ones of Davrin from yesterday. ^^ in this widened crop, we can see that the person he's leaning in and leaning down to talk to is Assan (with Manfred and Rook appearing in other shots in this collection below, it means the gang's all here). 🥺 the expression on his face is so lovely and if you zoom in you can see that Assan has the impression of lil furry/feathery eyelashes. 🥺 the design of Davrin's jacket buttons reminds me of wheels. could this be a reference to aravel wheels? I hope that Davrin's relationship with his Dalish culture and clan is portrayed respectfully, that he's connected to them etc.

Bellara: this shot is a more complete crop of the ones of Bellara from yeserday. ^^ the wisps of hair around her ears.. 🥺

Harding: another shot of Harding injured 😭 aaah why 😭.. I count at least 5 now. (3 in that post, 1 from yesterday, and this one from today). again in this image she's clearly had her injuries for a while, she has stitches and the bruising is in fading mode. she's seated in her casual clothes - I think this shot was taken in the Lighthouse. it's a different seat, but the vibe is very much like Harding here. omg in her casual attire Harding's braid is down ♡ like still braided but not tied up. I feel like in the field it's more like tucked up or wound round her head? in this shot we also have a lovely and detailed look at the adorable flower pattern she has stitched on her shirt. Harding is never defeating the adorable allegations.

Neve: in the background is an eluvian, the way we've seen them look in this game when they have just been used or are just about to be used. I wonder if this is the eluvian that leads from the Lighthouse out into the world of Thedas, and if this shot is from an early point in the game. every time I see Neve I wanna drop to me knees lmao and even though we've seen it before, every time I see her I'm stunned by the care and detail by the devs that went into creating her outfit, every aspect of it. :') in the center at the bottom, just behind Neve near one side of the eluvian's frame is a purpley glow. I think that might be one of these (circled in yellow), from this scene in the release date reveal trailer.

these things presumably have something to do with how to work and use the ancient elven magic-tech of the eluvian. with her Veil Jumper experience and interest in ancient elven artifacts, Bellara presumably knows how to use it, or has an idea of how to do so. in the reveal trailer, it looks like she's demonstrating this, or 'opening' the eluvian, to show Rook and the party.

Emmrich: it looks like he's talking to the lady elven warrior Rook that we've seen a few times now in the promotional material (like in the recent warrior gameplay video). Emmrich has impeccable style. I love all the detailing on his clothes. like the skull pin at his collar, he also has two skull pins lower down on either side of his waist. (this is a fashion flair shared with Lucanis; he also has a pin at his collar and then two more, one on either side, elsewhere on his coat; only his are crow skulls of course). parts of the material of his clothes have that crushed velvet look. Emmrich has big "I tell the time by a beautiful antique pocketwatch I keep on a chain" vibes. :D on his shoulder pads there are arrow patterns. the background location looks Nevarran and/or Necropolis-y to me. it looks like there are candles which burn with green flame (I'm really curious about that. is it Veilfire?) and you can also see a hexagon. I wondered here based on prior screenshots if hexagons are an aspect of Nevarran art/design/tileset.

Taash: I would like to see a new screenshot of Taash beloved 👉👈

Manfred: he looks so cute and happy, this is a really detailed shot of him and I'm really curious about the material that composes the lenses of his goggles. they look like they could be cut gems. if you look closely at the detailing on them, there's a pattern like an eight-pointed star or something etched on each lens. it gives his expression a permanent "🤩"-type impression hhh. and I'm really curious again about the purpose of his goggles. depictions of them like in Emmrich's tarot-style card art make it look like they have something to do with the necromancy. he is very helpfully handing us a lantern. the glow of the light in it looks green, like the lighting fixtures we've seen in the Necropolis.

Bonus Neve shot: what are these lights in the background I wonder? ^^ this shot is a good reference for the handle of her wand-cane thing. I think the blue-lustre finish on the gold parts is pretty. btw, do you think the orb held in Neve's wand-cane functions the same way for Neve the way the orb in dagger-and-orb style does for dagger-and-orb/Spellblade mages?

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt12

Familiar Winds

(Summary): After reaching Mondstadt you run into an unexpected hurdle but a few familiar faces are here to help you

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): traveler!Lumine, abyss prince!Aether, Paimon, Childe, ???, ???, ???, & ???

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, (y/n) used, reader knows some Spanish, cannon typical violence, & blood

(Word Count): 3.2 k

“Italics” = Non human speaking

The boat ride took days to reach Mondstadt from Inazuma, you can’t complain since luckily your boat hasn’t gotten struck by lightning. You haven’t experienced any storms on the trip, but you’ve been on edge since you remembered watching videos of random players trying to reach Inazuma with various methods and all end up getting striked by lightning back in your world. Perhaps Teyvat itself has decided to bless you with luck on your voyage, hopefully that luck continues

With that blessing a little obstacle presents itself. The large mountains that litter Dragonspine. It’s not as bad as it is in Liyue but with the snowy terrain it adds an extra level of danger

You turned towards your companions. “So, how are we going to scale this? I don’t exactly have the upper body strength like you all have.”

“I guess one of us is going to have to carry their Grac-” Childe was cut off

“I’ll do it.” Lumine said

You see the two men wanting to argue with the blonde but you shut it down. “Okay.” Said loud and clear

You get on Lumine’s back and spot the others hang their heads in defeat and start to climb up the side of the mountain

“I hope I’m not weighing you down too much.”

“It’s nothing, I stopped the hand of Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom.” Lumine reminded you of her fight with Scaramouche when he was still a Harbinger

The trek up the mountain wasn’t too eventful, besides you telling yourself to not look down

Eventually you and company make it up and begin to walk to the Frostbearing Tree. During the walk you were surprised to see that the weather wasn’t as harsh as you expected. The wind swirled around you almost as if it was caressing your face

Finally in front of the tree you took a deep breath you put your hands on the tree and felt nothing

Confused, you take your hand off the bark and place it on a different part of the tree. You closed your eyes and desperately tried to concentrate but it felt like some force is blocking you from connecting to the elemental energy.

“Am I doing something wrong?” You said as you pulled your hand away. “I can’t resonate with the tree.”

“Don’t be sad, it might be because you’re tired and haven’t had a proper meal.” Paimon tried to reassure you

“Maybe, hopefully tomorrow will be better.” You said and out of the corner of your eye you see a flash of teal fly overhead

“Your Grace.”A voice reverberated through your head

“D-did any of you hear that?” You asked but was met with confused looks

“Come here.”

“There it is again, you guys seriously don’t hear that?”

“Are you sure it isn’t just the wind?” Aether said

“I know it’s not the wind.” You told

“I have to see you.”

You glance over to your companions who are none the wiser of the disembodied voice you’re hearing. Fed up you slowly make your way towards where the voice is coming from, the twins and Childe hesitantly follow you. Rounding the corner your greeted by the sight of the dragon, Dvalin

“Eek!! What is he doing here?!” Paimon screamed as she flew behind you

The twins and Childe quickly drew their weapon ready to charge at the dragon

“Fear not, for I have no intention of harming their Grace.”

“Wait, guys.” You said as you pushed through your companions. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do, I would be a disgrace to not recognize the mighty creator of this world. I do apologize for that fool Barbatos attacking you without any hesitation.”

“I don’t hold a grudge against him because my doppelganger uses the gnosis to control him, along with the other archons.” You explained and saw a look of anger and confusion fills the dragon’s eyes

“That insolent fraud! I should go to their floating palace and maul them!” The dragon roared causing your companions to cover their ears

“I get your frustration, but I beg you to not do anything rash. I’m currently in the middle of getting my old powers back and when I’m ready I will confront them and I will need all the help I can get.”

“If you are in need of powers I will lend you some of mine.”

“Are you sure? I just don’t want it to bite you later down the line.”

“Nonsense, it is the least I can do and you won’t get any power from it.” Dvalin gestured his head towards the direction of the Frostbearing tree. “That tree has been tainted long ago.”

You had an inkling that its corruption had something to do with the large pillar floating above it, but decided to leave that topic of discussion for a later date

“Okay, I’ll take some of your powers.”

You hesitatantly put your hand on Dvalin’s snout and you focused on concentrating your hand began to glow a bright teal color, you kept your hand on the dragon until the light stopped

You cup your hands together and started to imagine a small tornado. A little vortex formed in your palms and then quickly dissipated when you separated your hands

“I have a question, does Andrius know about my situation? Like does he know that I’m the creator?” You asked turning back to Dvalin

“Why would he not be knowledgeable about your predicament?”

“Just making sure, I don’t want to get my hopes up and for them to side with my doppelganger.”

“It’s such a sad situation for the divine creator to take such a precaution for fear of death in a world that is supposed to worthship them.”

“Don’t feel bad, some people know the situation, and I have another request, but I don’t want to seem like I’m asking for too much.”

“Nonsense, your request do not bother me in the slightest.”

“If you say so, then can you give me and my friends here a ride to Wolvendom?”

“Of course, your Grace.”

“Thank you so much!” You said and turned towards the others. “I don’t know how much of that you caught, but we’re going to Wolvendom to meet Andrius.”

The twins, Childe, and Paimon shared confused glances at each other but eventually hopped on Dvalin. With flaps of his wings the dragon was off the ground and took flight

Soaring through the skies of Mondstadt, the lights of Mondstadt city could be seen in the distance. You turn your head to see Dawn Winery and remember the servants and Diluc. Especially the kindness and respect they showed you, gossiping with Moco and Hillie, the motherly care from Adeline, and the kindness the master of the house, Diluc. You wish you could go and see what’s happening with them after you were labeled as an imposter, or at least thank them for their hospitality

Before you know it you find yourself in Wolvendom, Lumine offered you her hand to help you off of the dragon

“Thank you Dvalin.”

“It was nothing your Grace.” Dvalin flapped his wings and flew off

“Are you okay? You seem like there’s something on your mind.” Lumine asked

“I’m okay, just thinking about Dawn Winery.”

Before the conversation could go any further a whirlwind of snow suddenly appears and instantly becomes intense, more intense than the winds in Dragonspine. The snowy wind concentrates into one spot to reveal the Great Wolf King of the North, Andrius. The wolf looked majestic in front of you and towered over you and your friends. The air around him dropped several degrees to the point where ice formed around the arena, shivers wracked through your body despite the thick coat you have on

“Greetings, your Grace.”

“Uh, hello Andrius.” You nervously waved at the wolf

“There is no need to be fearful of me, your Grace.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s just very different seeing you face to face, than to how I would usually see you. But I digress, I need to ask you something.” Your expression turned stern and Andrius’ ears perked at the change in your once shy tone. “Can I borrow some of your powers. If you can’t then I’ll understand.”

“The divine creator reborn into a human body was something I did not expect to happen, otherwise if me parting with a portion of my powers means their Grace returns to their former glory then it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

Andrius puts his head down for you to put your hand on, once you do your hand glows in a manner it did when you took some of Dvalin’s powers. Your hand stopped glowing you take it away from the wolf

“Thank you, I promise you once this is all over I will give you your powers back.”

“Anything for you, your Grace. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be able to speak to you like this. I owe you my life.” Andrius said and the wind began to pick up and before you could get a word in a gust of icy wind blinds you. “It was good to see you again.”, when the wind drops he’s gone

“He disappeared.” Paimon said

“Maybe he couldn’t keep his physical form since he gave me some of his powers.” You reasoned

“Anyway, see if you got some cryo powers, Paimon’s curious!” The fairy said as she kicked her feet

You look around to your eyes landed on a Flaming Flower Stamen. Raising your hand, you focused into concentrating your new powers until the side of your face felt the cold emitting from your hand. You flicked your hand towards the flower, the blast of cryo quickly dissipate before it can reach the flower. Confused you tried it again but the same thing happened, disappearing as soon as the energy leaves your hand

“Maybe I’m doing something wrong?” You said dishearted

“Try summoning electro.” Lumine said as she studied you intensely

You summon a spark of electro that was much larger than what you originally intended it to be

“Okay now summon some anemo.”

You do what she told you. “What are you getting at?”

“When you use either anemo or cryo the elemental energy flow is slower than when you use the other elements.” Lumine explained

“So what your saying is the powers their Grace got from Dvalin and Andrius is weaker than the elements they go from resonating with the trees?” Aether concludes

“Well it has to suffice since I don’t know long it takes until I can step foot in Snezhnaya.” You said as you put your hands in your pockets. “We’ll decide what to do in the morning, it’s getting late we should retire for the night.” Aether said

“Yeah, he’s right. We should get out of here, ‘cause I don’t want to run into any wolves. The last thing I want is to get woken up by some wolves.” You agreed

After some walk and climbing (well you were on Lumine’s back) you all find a spot that was perfect, it was on the cliff right next to the arena and no knights were stationed there. Best part it gave a beautiful view of Mondstadt city

“Stay here, we’ll gather some firewood.” Lumine said as she and Aether begin to walk away

“I’ll stay here to protect their Grace!” Childe said as he sat next to you

The twins rolled their eyes and walked towards some trees with Paimon following behind them

Once the twins were quite a distance away from the camp site

“So, how are you liking Teyvat?” The ginger asked

“It’s nice, besides everyone trying to hunt me down.”

“Yeah…”

“But I have notice some weird things.”

“Hmm, like what?”

“Mainly the moon.” You said was you leaned back with your hands propped up behind you.

“It’s so weird that the moon is constantly full here.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Back in my world it doesn’t produce light, the sun provides it. It even has stages called ‘phases’, a full moon happens every once a month or so.” You explained as you looked up at the moon. “But I find myself becoming mesmerized by it. The moon was beautiful back home but here, it fills me with a feeling of nostalgia.” You sighed blissfully as you rest your head in your hands. “It’s silly I-”

Suddenly your pulled towards Childe as a ball of fire is hurled at the seat you were once sitting in

You turn to see smoke coming from a giant claymore, wielded by a man with his long firy red hair tied in a low ponytail and some of his hair framing his face to show he’s wearing a domino mask

“Stay behind me.” Was all the ginger said before he charges at the masked redhead

Summoning his blades he makes swings towards his opponent which were expertly dodged by the Dark Knight Hero despite him hauling a giant sword

“Die Fatui scum!” He yelled as he swung his heavy claymore as flames bursts from the great sword

Childe uses his sword to block the attack, but the heat from the claymore quickly evaporated the hydro blade and thus sliced into the Harbinger, drawing blood

This is bad. With Childe’s bloodlust and the other’s hatred for Fatui, you know this will end in one or both of them dead. You got to think of something!

You could use cryo? No, it’s too weak to stop the flames

You could use either electro or pyro, but you can’t fight fire with fire and the electro might hurt Childe

So against your better judgement you take deep breath and yelled. “Diluc!” This caught the redhead’s attention

Shocked and mortified he swung his claymore at you, aiming for your face. You put your arms up to at least block a good portion of the attack. You hear the sleeves of your coat get cut. Blue beams shot past your head

“Your fight is with me!” Childe said as he shot hydro infused arrows at Diluc

Blood still gushing from his arm he draws another arrow and shoots. The redhead uses his great sword to shield himself from the arrows

“Take this!” Two voices yelled out in unison and a large sized tornado hits the masked hero

The redhead was pulled into the vortex and swirled around until the whirlwind stopped, disoriented Diluc tries to pick himself up but his arms fail him. He looked up at the direction the vortex came from and saw the iconic platinum blonde hair and white dress

“Traveler? Then does that mean…?” Diluc turned his attention towards you. “Me- Mentir?!” Diluc gasped, his eyes widen in shock as his eyes trailed down to see the golden liquid flowing from your arms. “Oh my Archons… Y-your Grace.”

You looked at your arms to see a decently sized cut on your right forearm, the left one was lucky cut not too deep. Upon seeing the blood staining your jacket Diluc instantly took a handkerchief and walked towards you but Aether and Childe step into front of you

“It’s alright you two, he means well.” You said as you pushed your way towards Diluc

“It’s not much, but when we get back to the manor, it’ll be treated properly.” He wrapped the cloth around your forearm. “I’m so sorry for harming you, your Grace.”

“You don’t have to call me that, we knew each other before things went sideways.”

“Of course, your- I mean Mentir.”

“Actually (y/n), is fine. Mentir is a fake name a gave you, sorrry…”

“Then what does ‘Mentir’ mean?”

“Funnily enough, Mentir means ‘to lie’ in another language from my world. I freaked out and gave you an obviously fake name, sorry again…” You explained fiddling with the fur on your borrowed coat

“We’ll talk about this more once we’re in the manor.” The redhead said as he gently took your hand and lead you to his home

Your face instantly heated up once you saw his features up close. Fluffy red hair framing his handsome face, sharp eyes with a chiseled nose and jawline

So focused on not drooling all over yourself you all made it to Dawn Winery

“It will be okay, most of the staff has retired for the night.” Diluc reassured as he slowly opened his front door. “Make yourself comfortable while I retrieve the medical supplies. Traveler can you help me with closing the curtains.”

You sit down at the table and watch Lumine and Aether close the drapes, soon Diluc comes back out with a small box that looked well used in his hands

You take off your jacket and the redhead kneeled down in front of you, Diluc makes quick work of your injury. Taking his gloves off he proceeds to remove the handkerchief that was a crude attempt to stop the bleeding. Once in his hands he tucked the rag into his pocket and turned his attention to you. Cleaning the wound with a gentleness that contrasts his scarred and callous hands, then wrapping your arm in gauze with a precision that came from years of practice, careful to not make it too tight on you

“There, that should be good.” Diluc stood up and took your jacket. “I’ll have this fixed and washed for you by the afternoon.”

“Thank you so much.” You smiled at the redhead

“Oh! It’s nothing, it’s the least I can do since attacking you without a second thought.” Diluc reasoned as a small blush crept up on his face

“It’s fine, I should have known, with your situation with the Fatui.”

“Anyway, what about sleeping arrangements?” Lumine said trying to steer the conversation away from the topic

“You can room with me, Your Grace! I can protect you better that way!” Childe smiled. And tonight’s is the perfect opportunity to showcase my stamina I told you about!”

The twin looked the ginger with disgusted looks that mirrored each other’s all the while Paimon looking clueless

“Ugh, can’t you show more respect instead of this degeneracy.” Diluc scolded

“If you didn’t run around playing ‘hero’ you would know a thing or two about bedding anybody, but you don’t.”

“Listen you Fatui scum-” Diluc stormed towards Childe but stopped when you stepped in between them

“Look! I will tell you what I told this one.” You hissed out while gesturing to Aether. “I am not in the mood to play referee between the two of y’all, you’re grown ass men, act like it!” Your eyes catch a glimpse of a wine bottle on the table. “Wait have you been drinking since I’ve been gone?” You walked towards it noticing it hasn’t been opened yet

Diluc turned his gaze towards where you’re standing. “I brought this down to the cellar, I do not know how this got up here.”

“Maybe you accidentally left it up here without realizing?”

“Maybe, but if that’s the case then why hasn’t any of the servants brought it down to the cellar.”

A sudden floorboard creaking catches all of your attention. Slowly creeping your heads towards the source of the noise and your all greeted with the sight of long navy blue hair, an azure eye with a four pointed star as its pupil. Holding an extra bottle of wine in his hand

“Hi…”

“Kaeya?!”

Taglist:

@chuuya-brainrot @creation-magician @tartarsaucechi1de @vvyeislazzy @aludicpoet @undecidingfate @annoying-mary @randomnatics @bore2808 @nickey-diano @transbirbboi @dxprived4-starboys @angstylittleb1tch @esthelily @yurivision @angelamelamela @chocolatekuns @ghost-mint @mmmhyperfixation @legendaryexperthideout @lapinaenmicoche @sinsdumbdrabble @rebeccawinters @imyme20 @nymphsdomain @sun7lowxr @blackcoffex @itz-luna @flowerypesky @land-of-eternity @deathcvltcivilofficial @d4y-dr3am3r @yuriclouds @artwitchh @mercy-not-merci @xyaxyn

[bogcreacher]

okay clangen fanfic time let’s go babey home run babey lets go!!!!

Chapter 1 - The Messengers

It was night over the valley.

The remnants of daylight pooled around the horizon, where the trees of Dappleclan cut into the thick, blue sky. The low clouds of greenleaf were long gone, leaving the stars stark and glittering. 

Moorheart had almost finished the evening patrol. He’d sent the others home early when they’d complained of sore paws.

It wasn’t their fault. There weren’t enough warriors to go around nowadays. 

He shook out his fur, taking extra care as he picked through the thistle-ridden paths of his clan’s territory. The trees hung low, drumming peacefully as he scraped under their lowest branches. He counted his steps as he went. 

In leaf-fall the undergrowth was always so alive. Somewhere far beyond his sight he could hear the hum of busy insects and the babble of the distant stream - and beyond that, small creatures, feeding and nesting and chattering. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, ignoring the growl of his stomach. 

It was the type of night that felt electric, sending his fur bristling and his whiskers to points. Part of him liked having it all to himself. 

He took a left turn at the next marker, leaping up the body of a larch and letting the ground drop farther and farther below him. It was the type of night for climbing. 

He used to linger in trees as an apprentice, to the point that his mother would joke about her son ‘with his head in the clouds’. 

“You’re more squirrel than cat - bushy-tailed, and fascinated by heights.”

Something about it grounded him. The higher he climbed, the more the noise and the pain and the fear softened, as if muffled by the clouds or the slow, dark crush of nightfall. It was a kind of peacefulness only he seemed to understand. 

Not that anyone else tried to understand. Not that anyone else got it.

It was clearer up here, where the breeze bit his ears to numbness and the earth trembled beneath him. Where the sky was so dark and so large he could look up and feel himself fall.

His fur prickled.

A storm’s brewing.

He was shaken from his musings when he heard movement below, of something picking its way through the undergrowth. 

Dropping to a lower branch he stooped to take a look. A small ways off bushes rustled, parting to reveal a lithe shadow. 

A rabbit?

Moorheart lowered his head as it crept closer. 

No. Larger.

His ears twitched. 

Cats. 

He couldn’t recognise them from afar. And he didn’t like how they came from downwind. 

The camp wasn’t far, though to flee he’d have to reach ground, and he doubted he could drop quietly enough to avoid alerting his new companions. 

He could call for help, but how long would it take for his clanmates to arrive? Certainly long enough for an assailant to scale his larch and sink their teeth into him.

Moorheart tugged his nervous claws from the bark beneath him.

Focus. This is hardly an invasion.

The cats were closer now, and Moorheart could see the way they moved, ears pricked and tails swaying. They walked with sure-footed grace, lightly dodging the brambles and boughs of his clan’s territory- Rainclan, he thought to himself, frowning. 

They were alert, they were cautious, but they weren’t stealthy. 

Moorheart raised his head. 

“Who's there?” 

“Moorheart? Is that you?” a familiar voice called. 

“Milkfur? What is this?”

“We have a message for Volestar.”

“This couldn’t wait until morning?”

“Where’s your patrol?” she called. 

He paused. Milkfur’s ear twitched. He couldn’t read her face from this distance.

“No patrol,” he said. “It’s just me out here.”

“Come down.”

Moorheart did, leaping deftly from bough to bough and only half-stumbling on his landing. Closer now, he saw the faces that made up this delegation: Milkfur, a golden molly with long whiskers and a round face; Crowpelt, a plump young tom with glossy fur; and Brightleg, a cat with cold, grey eyes that made him feel like leafbare was settling on his shoulders.  

Moorheart wasn’t sure why a message would require three seasoned envoys; he felt somewhat like a pinned bird when they settled around him. 

“Out with it, then,” he said, tail flicking. “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait ‘til dawn?”

Milkfur exchanged a look with Crowpelt.

“We found a body by the Thunderpath,” she said, quietly. “We… we think it's Rotstar.”

Somewhere far away, a bird whooped. 

“What?”

“We think,” Milkfur repeated. “It’s difficult to tell. We thought we ought to get someone from Dappleclan out to check, just in case.”

“Maybe Volestar?” Crowpelt chimed. “Or Batpounce?”

"Yeah." Moorheart didn't know why, but suddenly his feet felt very heavy. "I’ll... I’ll fetch them.”

“Not tonight,” Brightleg said. “In the morning.”

“Right.” Moorheart met his gaze and shivered. In daylight. 

“We just thought we should warn you, in case an apprentice stumbled upon it or- or something,” Milkfur said, as if sensing the chill in the air. 

“Thank you.” Moorheart dipped his head. “Really.”

“I…” the golden molly shuffled where she sat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Moorheart’s ear flicked. 

“Thank you,” he said, terser. “I’ll send Volestar to the border tomorrow, at Sunhigh.”

Milkfur nodded; out of agreement or courtesy, he couldn’t tell. Then all three cats were gone in the shrubbery, light and quick as they arrived.

Moorheart watched them go, then took an angry tongue over his fur. 

Far be it for a dead cat to get under my skin. I must be mad. 

He turned, pushing thoughts of his former leader and her rotten ways from his mind. He would check the markers along the edges of the grove, wander up the hill to inspect the abandoned setts, then amble back to camp and curl into his warm nest, safe and sound.

This will all blow over soon.

Somewhere far away, thunder growled. 

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 4 MATCH 1

Qiu propaganda:

“i love them sooooo much i was completely head over heels for cove but then i found out about qiu lin and ol2 and they took that spot in my brain IMMEDIATELY. that should say enough. also i just really want them to win this time </3”

“They're my beloved :] and also the only OL character not disqualified so I had to hdjdbdj I just wanna see how far they can go now :]”

“Genderfluid ADHD monarch. They enjoy mountain biking and ballet. As a kid, if they're set to Crush, they'll desperately try to find a way to link the MC's favorite color to themselves in an attempt to impress. They're the most popular kid in town and for good reason. Can be sharp as a tack, especially in social situations, but also can be so endearingly stupid.”

“Listen. Listen to me. Here's why Qiu Lin deserves the win (ha)

- They're a trans POC love interest (specifically genderfluid and chinese-american)

- They spend a lot of time in Step 1 (the first part of the game where everyone is a kid) being super nice and trying to accommodate for you

- They specifically try super hard to bring you (and Tamarack) into their already established friendship group

- (It doesn't work out super well initially but they're trying, be nice)

- Qiu's also just. Super sweet when you're set to have a crush on them in Step 1

- Like, their word count almost doubles when they have a crush on your MC

- There's one part of the game where you can bring up your favourite colour

- On a friendship route (or if you're set to neighbours), Qiu will maybe make a short comment about something related to your favourite colour

- On crush? Qiu stretches so far to tie your favourite colour back themself. Your favourite colour is green? That's the colour of their jacket!!! It's black? Like their bike, did they mention their cool bike!!! It's white, [imagine this is in italics] the inside of their house (no, really)!!! [end of imagining this is italics]

- They're also set to have an arc about much they accommodate for others and how they go from over accommodation in Step 1 to no accommodation in Step 2 to finding a balance in Step 3

- Also, like, they do in fact go through gender identity issues. In fact, they spend Step 2 not quite knowing their gender identity fully

Now, vote for Qiu!!!!”

"Genderfluid and uses they/he pronouns.

Their hobbies are mountain biking and ballet.

Most popular kid in town by, like, a mile. And for very good reason.

Immediately devotes themself to making sure their new neighbors (the MC and Tamarack) feel welcome in their new town.

Loooooves teasing their friends.

Is genuinely confused if the MC doesn't immediately consider them friends because. He considered you friends.

Not canonically ADHD (yet. things can change.) but like. The ADHD vibes are strong.

Forgetful and writes stuff down in a notepad to remember it, then proceeds to lose the notes. This happens constantly.

They have a whole arc about going from being overly accommodating and giving too much of themself to others, to closing off and not giving anything, to finding balance and figuring out how to be kind and caring without overexerting themselves.

Also, one of their closest friends is a trans woman. This is relevant simply because I love Renee and had to mention her."

Halsin propaganda:

“I haven't played the game but he's hot, and that's enough for me”

“Big sweet dude who’s a bit of a daddy and a bit horny. He’s also really chill and the potential poly route for this game, which datable games hardly ever do. Also, apparently he might not originally been meant to be a full companion and romance, but then people were so horny for him in Early Access they memed him into the full game like Sans Undertale in Smash? I think that should just say it all for why he should get in.”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Forever｡⋆.

The Ghoul x plus size reader

So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go

Warnings: very loosely implied cannibalism, fluff, no use of Y/N

WC: 481

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The Wasteland was beautiful in a way, she thought. The vast emptiness that unfolded in front of her from her perch in an abandoned highrise was what she imagined the pre-war ocean to look like; waves of yellow and orange, reflecting the setting sun. 

“Eat.” The rasp of her companion pulled her gaze from the haze of night quickly settling over them. She looked upon the embers of the now extinguished fire where her dinner sat, warming. She did not know where the cut of meat had come from, nor did she care to find out. But the rumble of her stomach was all the motivation she needed to reach out and carefully lift the charred slab from where it rested upon an ancient pan.

The crunch of dirt under his boots was all the warning she received before the sun-worn ghoul took a seat on the bench beside her. A groan passed his lips like a puff of air as he finally laid down his heavy load. “We’ll get to Philly tomorrow, what’s left of it anyway. Stop for supplies.” 

She hummed in agreement as she leaned back against the window sill. “I’m almost outta vials.” It was an almost defeated answer to a question she hadn’t asked. She knew he had been reckless with the last job, pushing himself too far, stretching his stash too thin. But long gone were the days where she would scream at him for being so stupid as he ignored her almost constant warnings. Now she only wiped her right hand off on her dusty pants and fished three small vials from a pocket on her plump thigh.

Without a word, she handed them to him and took another bite of her meal. The leather of his gloves gently caressed her palm as he took the last dregs of humanity he had left. “You always carry these ‘round?”

His voice was far softer than she was used to, sand against sand rather than the grind of stones. She finally looked over at him, just catching the flash of long-dead emotion in his deep brown eyes. “It’s what us cowpoke do, stay prepared.” She winked at him with a small but no-less genuine smile, expecting a snide comment from the old ghoul.

Instead, he took her free hand into his own, their fingers intertwining. She could feel the places where they had been broken and cut, the roughness of his skin that came with the curse of his very existence. His grip on her tightened as he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

She simply nodded and turned back to watch as the last ember flickered out as his eyes remained upon her, some long dormant ache in his chest rearing up once more.

And as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, in the darkness, he could smile back at her.

[Verse 1] Let's drive for no reason, let's see where these wheels land Let's grind down the curve of this earth You look fine in the evening and, honey, it's starting to storm When we kissed in the car in the school parking lot Where I'd go with my friends to get drunk Used to wish I meant anything to anywhere, to anyone [Pre-Chorus] When forever was a sentence, sentence to death Oh, when you wеre a running tear, I was a drop of sweat And thе edges of your soul, I haven't seen yet Now I'm glad I get forever to see where you end [Chorus] I won't be alone for the rest of my life I'll build a boat for when the river gets high And I'll meet a girl in the heat of July And I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go Woo [Verse 2] Remember when we called the cops 'Cause I got too high, and you got scared And the cops just laughed? We can't make rent, so we window-shop In the Upper West Side , oh, my God Could you imagine that? [Chorus] I won't be alone for the rest of my life I'll build a boat for when the river gets high And I'll meet a girl in the heat of July And I'll tell her so she knows That I'm broke, but I'm real rich in my head That I broke a bone that never healed in my hand So, when I hold her close I might loosen my grip, but I won't ever let her go I won't ever let her go [Outro] When forever was a sentence, sentence to death Oh, when you were a running tear, I was a drop of sweat And the edges of your soul, I haven't seen yet Now I'm glad I get forever to see where you end To see where you end

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria