#choices male mc

[talesfromcordonia]

Hearts On Fire - Male MC

[griffinsboyfriend]

Here's my boys from Immortal Desires by the incomparable @hydn-jpg!! Cas, Alfyn (male MC), and Gabriel sleeping over, probably watching something scary or supernatural~

I wanted to see Gabriel with his hair down, and this was the perfect opportunity! I love this trio of dummies so much. Send @hydn-jpg some love! Thank you so much for your fabulous work!!!

[distraughtlesbian]

literally the best part of this whole stupid book iwlove weird obsessed horndogs thee villain archetype of all time. he’s so silly. “we could’ve had a life together”, he says to his lesbian ex-neighbour who he’s just shot with a crossbow bolt meanwhile her girlfriend who he’s also just shot is half dead across the room. god i love it here he said me and the bad bitch im going to fumble

[weedperfume]

This is the most cunty Male!MC outfit in choices!

Disagree with me? Go argue with a wall.

[hydn-jpg]

based on this stupid pick-up line that i have no business liking so much but do anyway

(idc how you say his name in other stuff but for this joke it's specifically pronounced Noël/'no-elle')

[justcallmefox89]

Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Twenty-Three

An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.

Masterlist

Return to Cordonia

Liam restlessly drums his fingers against the armrest of his seat, occasionally darting irritated glances towards Callum and Drake.  Pangs of anger and jealously shoot through him as he watches the two interact; his chest tightening as his observes the tender way Callum treats Drake, as if he is something fragile and precious.

Callum tucks a soft blanket around Drake then slouches lower in his seat, allowing Drake to comfortably pillow his head on Callum’s shoulder.  Callum presses a soft kiss to the top of Drake’s head before picking up a battered paperback and starting to quietly read out loud.  Drake’s eyelids begin to flutter, and his breathing becomes deep and even as he quickly drops off to sleep.  Callum tenderly smiles down at him and resumes his reading silently, remaining as still as possible to avoid disturbing Drake’s sleep. 

If they weren’t currently 40,000 feet above the Atlantic ocean Liam would have thrown himself out of the plane without a second thought, anything to escape the painfully sick feeling he gets seeing Drake and Callum together.

Someone slides gracefully into the seat next to him, temporarily drawing his attention away from the two men. 

“I took the liberty of making you some tea,” Hana murmurs, passing him a steaming mug.

Liam inhales the fragrant steam and takes a sip, the scalding tea burning his tongue and temporarily distracting him from his misery.  “Thank you, Hana,” he says, smiling at her gratefully.

“How are you?” she asks, concern shining in her brown eyes.

Liam takes another sip of tea, trying to collect his thoughts.  “This is a situation I never expected to find myself in,” he finally admits.

“I doubt many people do,” Hana replies, stifling a smile.  “I don’t envy you, Your Majesty.  Madeline is furious.”

Liam stretches in his seat, picking out a familiar head of blonde hair sitting several seats ahead of him.  He shrugs, unable to muster enough energy to care about his fiancée’s anger.  “It’s no secret that our marriage isn’t a love match,” he sighs.  “I’m not sure what she expects from me.”

“Probably for you to not openly stare at Drake and Callum as if you’re a jealous lover.”

The king turns his head to stare at Hana, shocked at her uncharacteristic boldness. 

She nervously tucks her hair behind her ears and clears her throat.  “Her pride is hurt, Your Majesty.  No matter the truth of your arrangement it is important to her that the two of you appear to be a loving and committed couple to the public.”

“It’s getting harder and harder to pretend,” he admits, slumping back into his seat.  “I see those two together and I remember every wonderful moment I’ve had with them, and I can’t help but imagine what kind of future we could have together.”

He speaks without thinking, unwittingly admitting to his previous relationship with Drake.  Hana smiles to herself, happy to have her long-standing suspicions finally confirmed, but allows the moment to pass without comment.

“But then I remember how easy it was for Callum to give up, to walk away from me without a fight,” Liam continues.  “And I see how easy it was for Drake to just fall into his arms and I feel… betrayed.  I’m furious, Hana.  With both of them.  And I don’t want to be, but I can’t help it.”

Hana levels him with a disappointed look and he squirms under her gaze.  “I would hope you know both of them well enough by now, especially Drake, to know that none of this is easy for them.  It wasn’t easy for Callum to leave Cordonia, but at some point he had to prioritize his well-being over the chance you might choose him.  For you their relationship came out of nowhere, but Drake was Callum’s rock during the social season, sometimes even more than myself or Maxwell.  They understand each other in a way we never will, because in many ways they will always be outsiders in court.  They bring out the best in each other.  Drake grounds Callum.  And Callum makes Drake free.”

Liam frowns, silently ruminating over her words.

Hana sighs, softening her tone.  “I understand that you’re angry, and that’s fair.  But you need to understand that you played a part in all of this too.  You decided to prioritize your duty to Cordonia, and you have to accept all the consequences that follow.”

“You know better than anyone that I didn’t have a choice.”

“There is always a choice, Liam.”  Hana tentatively lays her hand over his and gazes at him earnestly.  “Drake and Callum chose happiness, it’s not too late for you to do the same.”

“I…” Liam hesitates, the very thought seems overwhelmingly daunting.

Hana squeezes his hand reassuringly.  “I will remain your friend whatever you decide, Liam.  But bear in mind that if you do marry Madeline you run the chance of losing them both forever.”

“I know,” he whispers sadly, glancing over towards the pair.  Callum has joined Drake in slumber; his cheek rests on the top of Drake’s head and he smiles faintly in his sleep.  “I know.” 

[myautumnrose]

Drew my BSC MC Myrtle Flowers because I wanted to…

I gave him longer hair because it’s time to retire the joke that he looks like Corbin Bleu…

[jace-duh]

husbands. (my mc.)

[theprinceandthewitch]

I wish Wuthering Waves had the spine to make Rover/Scar a past relationship... I would actually give them my money if villainous bisexuals Scar/Rover was a thing.

That aint gonna happen tho lol.... I mean... did u see the way they changed Scar's jumpsuit zipper... Men complained about that little bit of fanservice and they immediately gave my man a pair of boring ass pants...

Men are rlly strange tbh... they're not even here for the men, yet they have to complain about them.

This honestly has the same energy as Square Enix changing Wol's design to be less revealing just because the male players complained about him being "too sexy".

[griffinsboyfriend]

Thank you @hydn-jpg for another fantastic Choices fan art!! These are the best boys from Open Heart!

Rafael Aveiro, my male MC (Vincent Valentine), and Bryce Lahela!

I love this specific friend group so much. That male bond between three queer men is something no other book has replicated iirc, so this is special to me! Regardless of any feelings between the three, their friendship is paramount!!

Send Hayden love and more~!!! :D

[damejudywrench]

I’m only like 6 chapters in of immortal desires 2 but every single outfit choice has sucked

[where-the-wind-travels]

hey all uh quick question why the FUCK did no one tell me you HAD TO PAY DIAMONDS AGAIN FOR THE HONEYMOON FLOWER IN ES IF YOU PICK A DIFFERENT HAIR FOR YOUR MC????? i first played it w the curly haired mc and now i'm replaying it and i gave her the blonde hair (don't mind me trying to turn all my mcs into gals, i'm a gal myself and i want gal characters - in general alt characters that aren't goth or punk because they aren't the only two alternative styles that exist please pb get it together the only time i remember a different alt style mentioned is hayden's premium harajuku date scene in pm2 and even then it's still a dark spiky style) and then i got to the wedding episode AND WHEN I TELL YOU THE FEAR WHEN I SAW THE APPARENTLY UNPAID 30 DIAMONDS POP UP??????????? WHAT

also a heads up there is unprompted ranting about michelle in the tags. i love the woman and you'll definitely more than possibly be seeing me simp for her a LOT more.

yes i switch topics every 2 seconds

[pleasehelpmeimfying]

Another pull because yall give me motivation

[zoeywades-spouse]

Me from now on whenever one of the gang says that they never stopped looking for me

[malthemagnifisent]

Plot: Cyrus has returned from the shadow realm to find he has been gone for a year, and the one person he wants to see is Mal.

Notes: It’s kinda short, but oh well, I still like it, and I hope you enjoy. I haven’t written any choices fics in ages.

Cyrus was sitting in bed—the bed of the room he had slept in only a few short weeks ago. At least for him, it had only been a few weeks, but not for his friends, Kade, or Mal.

When Kade had told him it had been a year, Cyrus hadn’t known what to say, and he hated to admit it, but he had snapped and yelled at his brother even though he already knew that time between the realms did not move at the same speed.

He had been struck with the sudden weight of time and a horror at the fact he had missed out on so much, and for him, it had been in the blink of an eye. For him, it had been a few days at most; he really wasn’t sure. He had woken up alone and in pain; he had simply assumed the extent of his time on the shadow realm, but with a year passing at home, he was left to wonder if perhaps he had been out longer than he thought.

His hands clenched on the bedsheets below him, and a shaky sigh fell from his parted lips. He didn’t exactly feel at ease right now; he’d just escaped imprisonment and the threat of death. It was hard to calm down after that, especially when he had yet to see his friends.

Kade had assured him that they would arrive to see him soon; both Nia and Mal were close and only needed to be informed of his return. Tyril and Imtura were easy to contact, but they had not stayed in the white tower, so he wouldn’t see either of them for at least a day or two.

The wait was agonizing.

Kade stayed with him as long as possible, but it seemed his brother was no longer just a boy from some small town with nothing better to do than hang out with his brother; no, he was an important figure in the White Tower, and Cyrus hadn’t wanted to keep him from his duties.

Besides, Nia or Mal would arrive soon, and then everything would be better again.

He fell back against the bed with a groan and a wince, his whole body aching from the rough treatment in the shadow realm. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in the arms of one of his friends, or Mal’s. He would like to have Mal with him.

As if his thoughts were read, he heard the door open, and at first he sighed, thinking it was Kade coming to fuss over him instead of working like Cyrus had planned for him to do, but when he turned toward the door, he froze in shock at what he saw.

It was Mal, but not Mal like Cyrus remembered him, not the Mal that Cyrus had left behind only a few days before; he looked older, worn down, and his hair was short. It had been cut down to a neat length, trimmed, and kept perfectly even, so different from his prior appearance that Cyrus wasn’t sure what to say.

"You cut your hair," he finally blurted out, as if this wasn’t the first time Mal had seen him in a year.

He would have liked to be more eloquent, to wax poetry, and to apologize for leaving him for a whole year, but he couldn’t think of anything that sounded good enough.

"I can grow it back," Mal said, and that was one thing that hadn’t changed in a year: his voice was still the same, still helplessly soft, a tone that Cyrus had come to realize the man had only ever used on him.

Cyrus had shakily stood from the bed and taken a step toward Mal, who seemed frozen in the doorway, staring at Cyrus like he doubted his existence, which wasn’t surprising. "It’s really been a year?" He whispered, taking another small step forward, holding himself back from launching himself into Mal’s arms because he thought the man might collapse if he did that.

He was only a few feet away now, close enough to reach out and touch if he wanted, and God did he want to, but some traitorous part of him was worried that Mal might be angry at him, that he’d be upset at Cyrus for being gone so long. It was a ridiculous, horrible thought, but he had it anyway.

"One year, two months, and four days," Mal said, his voice cracking in a way that Cyrus hadn’t heard before, and it was that that finally broke him from his thoughts and got him to reach out.

He threw himself into Mal’s arms, which closed around him immediately, holding him so tightly that the breath was squeezed from his lungs, but he didn’t dare protest; he couldn't; he didn’t want to be released; he wanted to stay like this until the sun went down, until the world stopped spinning.

"I’m sorry, Mal, I’m so sorry," he whispered, his hand sliding up to tangle into Mal’s hair. There was less to grab now, but he still managed it, gently tugging on the short strands. He’d done the same thing before, when they had held each other, but this felt so different; it was desperate and needy; it was the built-up emotions of a year apart.

Mal swore softly and began to walk them back into the bedroom, using the hem of his foot to kick the door closed as they went, his hands never leaving Cyrus, just running up and down his body as if searching for injury.

"Don’t fucking say that; don’t apologize, you idiot." Mal cursed again, but the hoarse sound of his voice was enough to make Cyrus’ eyes well with tears. He couldn’t imagine what Mal must have felt over the long year apart; had he looked for Cyrus? Had he given up hope and resigned himself to never seeing him again? Had he accepted Cyrus as dead and moved on? It was unimaginable.

The back of Cyrus’ knees came into contact with the bed, and in a moment they were falling back onto the soft mattress. Mal was on top of him, still holding him tightly, as if Cyrus would disappear if he dared loosen his grip.

"You’re alive," Mal whispered, the words pressing into Cyrus’ skin, warming him like the heat of the sun.

Finally, Mal lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting Cyrus’ own as he reached out to cup Cyrus’ cheek in his hand, which was still rough and worn down from work, calluses marring the tanned skin the same way they always had.

Slowly, Mal’s thumb brushed beneath his eyes, smoothing over a pale bruise that colored a small section of Cyrus’ cheekbone. "You came back to me."

Cyrus let out a shaky laugh and nodded his head, reaching up to place his hand over Mal’s, shifting the man’s hold so he could press a kiss to his lover's fingertips. It was a gentle touch because he thought that was all he could manage at the moment, but Mal still drew in a sharp breath, as if Cyrus had blessed him with something holy, as if he had granted him salvation.

It was the kind of sound that made Cyrus’ world shift.

"You would have come back to me," he whispered, and there was not a shred of doubt in his tone. He was sure that if Mal had been the one taken, he would have found a way back to Cyrus.

Mal’s jaw clenched, and he briefly screwed his eyes shut, clearly fighting off tears. Even after all this time, he was still reluctant to cry, and Cyrus wondered how much his supposed death had furthered that fear of emotion.

"I would’ve crawled my way back to you, Cyrus; no goddamn shadow would stop me," he said, his brown eyes flying open. There were shining tears clinging to his lashes, and when he blinked, they finally fell, streaking down his cheeks and catching in the scruff of his beard.

It was a beautiful sight. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, but Cyrus couldn’t look away; he just gently wiped away a tear drop, his lips parted in a soft gasp, and his own eyes blurred with tears.

The next moment, Mal’s lips were on his.

It wasn’t like their previous kisses; all of those had been soft, if not a bit messy, but this one was sudden and desperate; it was the touch of a man who’d been waiting for a year to touch, who’d waited so long to feel the way Cyrus’ back arched under his hands, who’d waited a year to taste his tears, to feel the burn of pain as his lips were bitten.

He’d been starving for a year, and finally he’d been blessed with sustenance, and he was taking his fill lest it be stolen from him again.

[moonshotsx]

someone on reddit referred to ptn “as a game that’s known for attracting lesbians” and they are not wrong 😭 truly one of the most sapphic fandoms i know