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hoenoredone · 8 months

Text

A TYPICAL DATE

tags: sfw, fluff, headcanons, enstablished relationship characters: gojo, geto, nanami, naoya, inumaki, yuuta, noritoshi

GOJO SATORU

cat café

he's a cat dad and you're never going to convince otherwise. because of his job it's quite difficult for him to keep a pet in the house, he feels too bad leaving it all alone for days at the time (do not worry, the ball of fluff would have an automatic feeder and a self cleaning litter). so he gets his fix at a cat café. it's perfect, really: he can pet all the cats, and you can eat and drink to your heart's content while seeing him all happy and giddy.

GETO SUGURU

dinner and a movie

he's a wanted simple man, he's perfectly content setting the table while you stir fry the meat he had left in the fridge to marinate for the whole day. he'd fry up some popcorn after dinner and drizzle them in butter and salt. he loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, especially if the movie turns out to be boring. he lets you fall asleep and does his best not to wake you at the end of the film. when nanako and mimiko make fun of him the day after for carrying you to the bed bridal style, he can only smile and ruffle their hair.

NANAMI KENTO

petit pâtisserie

he has a sweet tooth, sorry i don't make the rules. he doesn't like sickeningly sweet pastries, but a french press coffee and a slice of opéra cake are perfectly within his taste. he watches you eat an english scone with strawberry-rhubarb jam and clotted cream and sip on your darjeeling tea as he listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind. he notices some crumbs on your lower lip and tries to discretely let you know, but you're too absorbed in your own world to notice. so he gently wipes them away for you and notices a slight blush dusting your cheeks.

ZEN'IN NAOYA

michlin star restaurant

it's really not a date, it's more of an interview. he doesn't date just to date, he dates to marry. he needs to be the perfect heir for the zen'in clan, he needs a wife and a child. so he takes you to an incredibly expensive restaurant and grills you with questions. at the start it's not the most pleasant experience, but as the date goes on (if you answer his questions correctly) he loosens up and lets you speak freely. he doesn't even realize it, but he feels like he has a lot to prove, so once he decides that it's worth it he orderes his favorite wine (coincidentally the most expensive one) and shoos the waiter away to pour you a glass himself.

INUMAKI TOGE

arcade

please he loves the pinball machines, literally spends hours on them. you take turns at the claw machines to try and win each other a plushie (that riceball looks just like him? how?) and lose almost three thousand yen. he watches you play a shooter game and gets playfully annoyed when you don't listen to his tips. almost spills his coke all over one of the machines when you finally win your first game of the night. he offers you karaage to celebrate and you almost choke on the sauce when he imitates the panicked face you had during the game.

OKKOTSU YUUTA

picnic at the dog park

can he pet that dog? can he please pet that dog?? you bring the food and a table cloth, and he brings plates, cutlery, drinks and two different brands of dog treats. you could swear he spends more time looking at the dogs run around and telling you all about the specific breed than actually eating. a big fluffy maremmano runs towards him and almost knocks the picnic table over, but yuuta is ready: he grabs a duck skin treat from his pocket and hurls it to the other side of the park, but not before having pet the dog's head and having called him a good boy.

KAMO NORITOSHI

japanese tea house

he enjoys the quiet of the tea house's garden because he's not a kamo there, just noritoshi. he used to be partial to sencha tea but you insisted on ordering something different every time, and he's glad you did because he's a creature of habit, without you he wouldn't have discovered he actually prefers hojicha tea over anything else. he lets you order whatever you want, from dango to daifuku, even dorayaki once, but warabimochi remains his favorite.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #inumaki toge #inumaki x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #headcanons

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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Deceiving the Duke | 5 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 3.2k of 30k words | 5th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

Over the next few weeks, you quickly grew even more familiar with Lord Shouto, though no closer to accomplishing your objectives.

Lord Shouto had taken to inviting you on outings, and asked for at least one dance at every ball you attended. You were always careful to utilize the time talking about Caroline, much to his persistent disinterest.

Time spent in more sharp-witted social circles than your own, however, made Lord Shouto very adept at steering the conversation his way, and more often than not, he found ways to turn things back on you. You found yourself divulging more facts about yourself than you had ever realized existed; dessert preferences—“Apricot cakes?” Lord Shouto had guessed with a horribly charming smirk—the previously promised list of your favorite novels, and para-political thoughts you later worried might reveal you as an outsider to the aristocracy.

In addition to Lord Shouto, Lady Asui and Miss Uraraka also seemed to have taken a liking to you. They appeared at your elbow almost as soon as you arrived to any party, taking you by the arm and leading you over to whatever corner they’d claimed for themselves, grilling you on Lord Shouto and any other gentleman foolish enough to ask you to dance, gossiping in return about their own would-be suitors, or other party attendees.

Through them, you learned which ladies had set their caps at which lords, which gentlemen were known for their wandering hands and were best avoided, and who had most recently snubbed who.

You were beginning to like them, the ease of their friendship, Lady Asui’s straight-shooter commentary, Miss Uraraka’s persistent cheer. They were good company. You would regret it, you thought, when the cloth had been pulled off of this charade and you had to disappear into the countryside.

Mrs. Utsushimi had noticed your newfound popularity, and had pulled you aside to whisper furiously about the danger to your operation. But her concerns were almost embarrassingly easily soothed, once she learned that you were taking any opportunity to speak well of Caroline, especially during any dance with Lord Shouto.

“They would make a beautiful match,” Mrs. Utsushimi said, her handkerchief clutched in one hand, vibrating with the force of her excitement. You could practically see stars in her eyes.

Some horrible little part of you rebelled at the idea of them together. You were surprised at your sudden impulse to squirrel Lord Shouto away for yourself, like a prize nut hidden in the hollow of a tree.

But obviously you couldn’t have him. And even if he had wanted you—once he learned of your deception, he’d hate you for sure.

That didn’t stop you from accepting his invitations, though—most recently for a promenade about the park. Ordinarily, you would have been the natural choice for Camie’s chaperone, in your capacity as a maid, but Lord Shouto, strangely, had seemed to think of this, supplying his elder sister, Lady Fuyumi and her husband—almost as if he had anticipated your household being short of chaperone supply.

“I recall the maid was indisposed at the time of my last calling,” he said vaguely when you asked, with a very carefully cultivated blank look on his handsome face that seemed almost…knowing.

But he couldn’t know, otherwise you’d have already been cast out of the capital and out of the Utsushimi’s employ.

Lady Fuyumi was incredibly kind and sweet. She asked you about your experience so far in the season, complimenting the stitching on your dress–which she could have no way of knowing you’d done yourself–and inviting you over for tea sometime.

Once you arrived at the park, she did you the good turn of walking some ways behind you and Lord Shouto. She chatted with her own husband just loud enough that you knew they were giving you some privacy.

She would make a lovely sister-in-law, and you found yourself jealous at the thought of Lord Shouto’s future wife. You hoped he chose wisely, someone who matched his thoughtful nature—you wondered if Princess Yaoyorozu was kind like him.

“There is an exhibit of Greek statues, at the other end of the park,” Lord Shouto told you as he fell into step beside you, his mouth turned up just slightly at the corner. “I thought you might enjoy it.”

You laughed, trying to scowl up at him for good measure and utterly failing. “You are incredibly presumptuous, my lord.”

Those mismatched eyes glittered down at you, a little bit mischievously. “Am I?” he asked lightly.

In direct sunlight he was even more beautiful than ever. His eyelashes left deep shadows over the tops of his high cheekbones, the colors of his heterochromatic gaze even clearer in the afternoon sunshine. He cut an especially dashing figure in his walking clothes–his shoulders broad under the dark fabric of his coat, the muscle of his legs almost too clear against his tight tan trousers.

Under his clothes, you imagined he looked exactly like the statues he meant to lead you to–a thought that had you flushing furiously under his gaze.

You sniffed imperiously, trying not to stare at him. “I should hope you would be more polite to Caroline, when you are reintroduced.”

Lord Shouto leaned in. “I should think you would not want to introduce her to any gentlemen you deem too presumptuous.”

You frowned. He always found some reason or another to avoid talk of Caroline.

Really. It was like he didn’t want to make her match! In your opinion, she was quite pretty. Tall, with large fawn eyes fringed with thick lashes, with tumbling strawberry blonde curls and a gentle manner. And she was the eldest sister besides, traditionally the sister with the largest dowry.

But Lord Shouto acted as though he did not care, finding excuse after excuse to avoid her at parties and in conversation.

“You know not what you are missing, my lord,” you told him.

He looked doubtful. “I believe I know exactly what I lack, Miss Utsushimi. I aim to remedy that by the end of the season.”

You almost tripped on the hem of your gown, your cheeks heating again.

A wife. He meant that what he was missing was a wife.

And he apparently had plans to obtain one by the end of the season!

You cast a sidelong glance at him, trying to determine what this meant. You did not miss the implications of him spending so much of his time with you, but the thought again was too absurd to consider. And there were the rumors of Princess Yaoyorozu besides. Even with him believing in your sham, why have the second daughter of an unlanded, barely-noble family when you could have a princess—the soon-to-be queen?

He was clearly associating with you in order to ward off other debutantes.

“Reign in your presumption by the end of the season?” you said, purposefully avoiding his meaning. “A bold undertaking, Your Grace.”

He laughed, a low rumbling sound that went right to your head.

“Your novels are not helping me,” he said in his low voice. “In fact, the hero always seems to possess presumption in spades. I would think you might have more tolerance for me, considering.”

You turned to stare at him, unable to help your delight. “You’ve been reading them?” you demanded eagerly.

Something like the hint of a smirk passed over Lord Shouto’s mouth, as if he knew how successfully he’d baited you. You couldn’t find it in you to begrudge him that.

“I have read three,” he said. “I can see why you like them. And also why they might be called a corrupting influence on young ladies.”

His tone was so carefully bland, you could tell he was teasing you. “You’re a corrupting influence,” you complained loudly. “Surprising young women in dark rooms, as I’ve said.”

Lord Shouto’s gaze flashed hotter for a moment, his smirk twitching even higher on the corner of his mouth—as if he liked the idea of being found a corrupting influence.

“You say it as if it is my habit,” he said. “When it’s happened only the once.”

You sniffed. “How am I to know that? You might have cornered half the ton.”

Lord Shouto stepped in front of you purposefully, so that you had to stop in your tracks, lest you bump directly into his chest. You gaped up at him, surprised.

He inclined his head towards you, as if leaning in to tell you a secret. “Half the ton has better aim, so I would not dare,” he whispered.

You laughed, grinning up at him helplessly. He looked rather pleased with himself at having drawn a smile out of you.

“The sculptures are down here,” Lord Shouto said, leading you off the path and onto a grassy slope that descended towards the burbling stream at the heart of the park. “Let me help you.”

He proffered his arm to you as he spoke. You could just see the shift of his strong shoulder under the thick fabric of his jacket and several butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach. Carefully, you reached out, taking his arm—and quite suddenly felt like you might faint, like a lady in exactly those novels you had just been discussing.

You could feel the shape of his arm under your hand, hard with muscle, flexing as he adjusted it for you. You hoped someone nearby was equipped with smelling salts, because you weren’t sure you were going to make it down to the sculptures. You clung tightly to his sleeve to keep you upright, heart racing.

Lord Shouto looked down at you curiously, those mismatched eyes sliding over you.

“I don’t want to fall,” you said quickly, digging out an excuse. A servant could very well descend a hill by herself, but you didn’t know if you were capable of unclenching your fingers from Lord Shouto’s bicep.

He led you down the hill, Lady Fuyumi and her husband descending after you, around a copse of trees to a patch of grass where the exhibit had been erected. There were roughly twenty statues in various states of deterioration, all equipped with their own carved plaques, explaining their stories and origins.

They had been laid out along a winding path that looped back on itself several times, leading the wanderer in a meandering but nevertheless purposeful course. The exhibition had clearly been laid out to tell some sort of story, but uneducated in the arts, you could not guess it.

Lord Shouto led you along the path, sidestepping families and chaperoned couples. You caught a few envious stares as visitors clocked Lord Shouto at your side, and you clutched his arm tighter in apprehension.

You also found very quickly that you had been correct: Lord Shouto was of a kind with the statues. Offensively, he was perhaps even more lovely than they were. The smooth marble of their skin, the strong cords of their fingers and throats, the sleek line of their muscle–it was all deeply reminiscent of Lord Shouto’s dashing figure–but even their features could not quite match his careful, clever beauty.

You resisted the urge to press your fingers harder against his bicep, as if to affirm he truly was a flesh-and-blood man beneath your fingers.

Lord Shouto led you over to the first statue, seeming to carve a path through the crowds like a blade. It was a marble carving of two sleeping, fat-cheeked children with wild curls, reclining over an unrefined hunk of the same stone. Little wings were folded across their backs, the feathers drooping down the other side of the stone. One of them was larger than the other, and looked to be swelling even larger–or maybe he was just taking a breath.

Lord Shouto bent over the inscription, some of which–obnoxiously–was in Greek. He flashed you something that might have been termed a smirk on anyone else before reading: “Eros, Greek god of love,” Lord Shouto gestured to the strange, swelling child. “And his brother Anteros, the god of mutual love.”

“Both sons of Aphrodite. In the company of Anteros, his brother Eros was said to grow larger. But if Anteros was away, Eros shrank back to his usual, smaller size. It is assumed to be a commentary on the strengthening of love by having one’s love returned,” Lord Shouto’s eyes flickered almost pointedly in your direction again.

You fought down a flush, appalled with your own sudden shyness. You might have liked Lord Shouto well enough, but love—love–-you did not dare. No matter how handsome or well-trained or attentive and kind Lord Shouto was.

It would be inappropriate of you to imagine any sort of feeling like that toward him.

You quickly schooled your features into a mask of disbelief. “You’ve made that up,” you accused him.

Lord Shouto blinked, a white eyebrow raising.

“Just because I can’t read Greek,” you sniffed at him. “Taking advantage of an innocent lady’s trust. Clearly it’s a commentary on infantile balloon disease.”

Both of Lord Shouto’s eyebrows rose into his hairline and his features went very still, as though he was suppressing a laugh.

“Balloon disease,” he repeated in a tone so bland and polite he might have been speaking to the king.

You flapped a hand at him. “I know a ballooning child when I see one.”

Lord Shouto hid his face in his sleeve, affecting a sudden cough, but you spied the tiny smile on his mouth when he looked at you again.

“Now be accurate or I’ll insist on a new guide,” you told him, not giving him any time to recover, and gestured him onto the next sculpture.

Lord Shouto cast you a long, searching look, as though he knew exactly what you’d just done to avoid a conversation on romance. But he offered you his arm again, and dutifully led you along.

Over the course of the next few hours, you slowly walked the course of the exhibition, Lady Fuyumi and her husband training behind you at a careful distance. Lord Shouto translated all the bits of the inscriptions in Greek, which you either accepted or discarded on a whim. He also helped supply some of the myths and stories the statues drew on, filling in the gaps in your knowledge neatly and expertly. You alternately spoke of the sculptures and the novels he’d read, and the level of careful attention he paid to both warmed you.

You liked the low, soft murmur of his voice as he explained things to you, and occasionally found yourself half-listening, getting lost in the shape of the syllables in his mouth, the deep richness of his tone.

You could imagine a thousand afternoons like this, clambering around some Greek ruins with Lord Shouto, listening to him patiently translate, watching him turn back to you with that small sliver of a smile whenever you added something ridiculous.

Eventually the two of you came to a statue in particularly good shape, a large man with a neat marble beard and a sly look in his eye.

“Dolos, the god of deception,” Lord Shouto told you, in a tone so light and devoid of any inflection that it sent a strange shiver up your spine.

You peered closer at his features, the shrewd fix of his mouth, his wiry curls, the sightless stare of his marble eyes. The god of deception–how utterly fitting that you should meet him here.

When you turned, Lord Shouto was looking at you strangely, those heterochromatic eyes glittering down at you.

“It’s…interesting,” you said, balking under his close inspection. “That they should have a god honoring such a thing.”

Lord Shouto’s mouth quirked. “Would you like to hear the inscription?”

You nodded, interested.

Lord Shouto read carefully, “Dolos was apprentice to the potter Prometheus, who had used all his skill to sculpt the form of Aletheia, the embodiment of Truth. As he was working, Prometheus was summoned away, leaving Dolos in charge of his workshop. Dolos used his time to copy Aletheia, completing a figure exactly like her, the same size and with identical features.”

You made sure to pay close attention this time, trying not to get too lost again in the smoothness of his voice.

“When he had almost completed her, he ran out of clay to use at her feet. When Prometheus returned, Dolos quickly sat down in his seat, shivering in fear–but Prometheus was amazed at the similarity of the two statues. He puth both in the kiln and infused both with life. But only Aletheia was able to walk, while her copy stayed stuck in her tracks, footless. It is like the saying a lie has no legs to stand on–something that is false can start successfully, but you cannot get away with it.”

A shiver really did crawl down your spine, then. “He created a copy,” you breathed, disliking the parallels between your own situation and the story. A lie has no legs to stand on–-you cannot get away with it.

But you had always known that. Your impersonation of Camie was always going to be discovered–you wondered if Lord Shouto would look back on this moment and see the twisted irony of it.

You hated to wonder how he would think of you, when all of this was through.

Any thought of wandering Greek ruins with Lord Shouto immediately vanished, and you drew in on yourself, remembering that your future only held the halls of a different home not your own, tucked away in the country where you would never see Shouto again.

If you were quiet for the rest of your interlude, Lord Shouto seemed to take it in stride, guiding you around the remaining statues and murmuring their inscriptions to you in his hypnotically low tone.

Eventually, Lady Fuyumi reminded Shouto that he had to dress for dinner–some invite higher in society than the Utsushimi family merited–and ushered you back to the carriage to deliver you home.

You followed obediently, your thoughts racing ahead through the end of the season, through the limited time you had left with Lord Shouto. This would all have to end so soon.

You didn’t know whether you should redouble your efforts to match him with Caroline, to end things sooner, or drag things out as long as possible, to carry the memory of this season with you forever.

You made polite conversation on the way home, avoiding Lord Shouto’s careful scrutiny, and chirped a sincere thank you as you approached the Utsushimi’s home.

It was only as Lord Shouto handed you down from the carriage at the Utsushimi’s front door that you truly realized the horribly romantic bent of your thoughts, the truth of your outing that you had been resisting the entire afternoon.

That you had liked your time with Lord Shouto, and that you wanted more of it–the one thing you could never, ever truly have.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x you

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crushedgraham · 8 months

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Would u do an Ashe x Widowmaker x fem! Reader (poly relationship) headcanons please? Reader is quite introverted 🤍

Also some smut headcanons too if that’s okay :)

Widowmaker x introverted fem Reader x Ashe

im still trying to figure out how to portray them :,) but i hope you like it!

prepare to be SPOILED.

theyre both loaded and will not hesitate to buy anything for you

oh you want something but youre too shy to ask? amélie can tell as soon as she looks at you, her eyes keenly observing you

typically amélie's the one accompanying you while shopping bc ashe is busy running the deadlock gang but she tries her best to join every now and then

she makes up for it by bringing you little trinkets from her heists that reminds her of you

it can vary from expensive jewelry to little figurines she thought you'd like

she'll clasp a gold necklace around your neck and kiss your cheek, murmuring a small "such a pretty girl"

they're trying to one up each other, every chance they get

who's the better shooter?

who's the better cook (ashe can only grill hotdogs and burgers and amélie can only make charcuterie boards but they try their best)?

who's the better kisser?

who can make you cum the fastest

they just want your praise and affection 🙁

speaking of which...they're N E E D Y.

you literally have to sleep in the middle so they each have easy access to you

when ashe gets jealous of amelie, her confident and "dominating" mask crumbles, leaving her needy and whiny

she'll kiss and nuzzle at your neck with her arms wrapped tightly around your waist "Darlin'...Pay attention to me"

when amélie gets jealous of ashe she gets petty and almost cat-like. she'll huff and pout while glaring at you and the cowgirl until you get the hint that she needs some loving too

i feel like ashe would love to show off her partners at events she holds for the deadlock gang

you dont like socializing too much? thats fine with her, she'll steal you away to a private nook in her expensive party room

ashe will sit you on her lap while she sips some whiskey and eyes you up and down

if you're feeling bold and decide to slip her hat off of her head and onto your own?

she'll go feral.

Cowboy hat rule is all im saying.

amélie will accompany the two of you sometimes to join in on the fun but opts out most of the times bc she thinks the rowdiness of the party's distasteful

you sitting on ashe's lap with your back pressed against her chest, her knees spreading your legs open for amélie who's kneeling with her head under your dress is a position you frequent a lot

ashe tops the most (she's so smug about it) but when amélie takes over? she crumbles.

sounds like a whiny mess as you watch and touch yourself to the scene of her getting her back absolutely blown out by amélie

i feel like one of their favorite positions would be amélie sitting on your face while ashe fucks you with her favorite strap

ANYWAYS

lets get back to some domestic hc's

ashe can definitely play the acoustic guitar and will softly play it while singing old country songs whenever it's a sleepless night or when someone gets a nightmare

she even learned the chords for some french lullabies for amélie to sing to

when you go out to eat and they get your order wrong but you're too shy to say anything, BABE THEY GOTCHU.

"she asked for no pickles 😠"

or if you just don't want to order in general? they'll happily do it!

if your social battery's running out or you're just feeling a little on edge/anxious at events they'll escort you outside for a break

the silence is comfortable and the comforting smell of their shared cigarette grounds you

after a long day yall will just turn on a movie of your choice and you'll lay in between them

ashe will most likely spoon you and amélie will lay on her side, facing you while tracing little patterns on your ribs or holding your hand

#widowmaker x reader #overwatch #overwatch x reader #widowmaker #ashe x reader #ashe x widowmaker #ashe overwatch #ouihaw

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lulu2992 · 3 months

Text

Uncovering the unreleased Far Cry 5 in-game Encyclopedia

The almost complete but unused in-game encyclopedia, reconstructed thanks to the oasisstrings file.

Please note that it’s still cut content, so some information might not be relevant anymore.

You can read the oasisstrings file here. Pictures from this encyclopedia were also extracted and posted by @xbaebsae here.

Part 6: Characters

Aaron "Tweak" Kirby

Uppers, downers, sideway-ers... Tweak is all about pushing the limits of the human condition.

Adelaide Drubman

A confident go-getter with deep pockets to do whatever she wants, like living with booze, bazookas, and boy toy Xander Flynn.

Bo Adams

A hardcore survivalist that chooses to live out in the woods and off the grid.

Boomer

A scruffy pal with unparalleled loyalty.

Cameron Burke

A U.S. Marshal with an agenda. The only thing standing between him and his political aspirations is the Project at Eden's Gate.

Casey Fixman

A grill cook with a classified past. Most locals don’t believe his outrageous war stories or the wisdom he serves up with every order.

Chad Wolanski

A self-styled prepper chef who sells food out of his food truck since his restaurant "The Grill Streak" burned down.

Dr. Charles Lindsey

A veterinarian drafted into service as a medic. There's no one else to do it, and aren't we all animals?

Cheeseburger

Orphaned as a cub and raised by Wade Fowler, he's the star attraction at the F.A.N.G. Center. He loves eating cheeseburgers.

Clutch Nixon

A legendary stuntman who left this world the way he entered it: Face first onto a pile of rocks.

Dave Fowler

Wade Fowler's brother, he runs the business end of the F.A.N.G. Center.

Richard "Dutch" Roosevelt

An old prepper who'd worked himself to the bone and lost everything even before Eden's Gate came to town. Same shit, different horse.

Dylan

(no description found)

Eli Palmer

A bonafide prepper and the leader of the Whitetail Militia. He helped Eden's Gate design their survival bunkers before he wised up.

Faith Seed

The Siren in the East. The youngest in the Seed family pacifies unruly followers to make way for the Collapse. Some believe she's only an illusion.

George Wilson

George is a Whitetail Militia and baseball enthusiast, but spends most of this time as a lookout because of his age.

Grace Armstrong

A medal-winning shooter and army sniper with a vendetta against Eden’s Gate.

Guy Marvel

A genius movie director envisioning a masterpiece of anarchy and gold statue wins. Even an auteur needs help to make movie magic.

Deputy Joey Hudson

One of your fellow Hope County Deputies who has absolutely no time for bullshit and has the fists to back herself up.

Hurk Drubman Jr.

His wit and intellect may have been blunted by paint huffing, but that hasn't stopped him from living a life of adventure.

Hurk Drubman Sr.

A retired oil baron who is the undisputed master of his domain... what's left of it after the divorce.

Jacob Seed

The Soldier in the North. The eldest Seed brother serves Joseph by creating the army that will defend the Project with their lives.

Pastor Jerome Jeffries

The local man of God who will do whatever it takes to protect the people of Hope County – even if it costs him his soul.

Jess Black

Dutch’s niece. Jess is a loner who nearly lost her life in Jacob's camps, only to discover a new talent in the process: killing Peggies.

John Seed

The Baptist in the West. The youngest of the Seed brothers, John is in charge of reaping the land of supplies that will help the Project survive.

Joseph Seed

The Father. The middle Seed brother heard a Voice that told him to initiate a great Project, to prepare for the Collapse of everything. And so he has.

Kim Rye

A world traveler who chose Hope County to put down roots, and those roots are on the way - she's in her third trimester.

Larry Parker

Genius or crackpot? Science will decide.

Mary May Fairgrave

The tough-as-nails barkeep who blames Eden's Gate for the death of her parents.

Merle Briggs

A local prepper. Merle could talk your ears off about his dream bunker, or the shelf life of canned goods.

Wilhelmina Mable

Wilhelmina Maybelline, big cat whisperer and taxidermist. The well-being of Peaches the cougar is her top priority.

Nadine Abercrombie

The last living member of a family of hoarders, though she considers herself a collector. Much classier than simply hoarding. And more selective.

Nancy

(no description found)

Nick Rye

The best dang pilot in Hope County. Give him a chance and he'll put on a show.

Peaches

The long-time pet of Miss Mable. Probably named for the color of her fur and not the sweet disposition she lacks.

Deputy Stacy Pratt (yes, his first name is actually spelled Stacy in the files)

One of your fellow Hope County Deputies who’s a good cop when his ego doesn't get in the way.

Dr. Sarah Perkins

A lone biologist determined to unravel the mysteries of how Jacob's Judge wolves are created.

Sharky Boshaw

A wanted arsonist, Charlemange Victor Boshaw IV hides out where he can live his fire-blazing, rockstar fantasies.

Sherri Woodhouse

She gave up city life, opened a fishing store, and began the hunt for her family’s missing legendary whiskey.

Skylar Kohrs

A high-powered expert fly fisher hell-bent on landing a legendary fish.

Tammy Barnes

Once a homemaker, now the chief interrogator for the Whitetail Militia. They say her marshmallow blondies are to die for.

Tracey Lader

A woman determined to bring down Eden's Gate, especially Faith. They used to be friends and the sting of betrayal fuels her wrath.

Virgil Minkler

A trusted mayor for the past 7 terms, now hell-bent on stopping the production of Bliss after it took the life of his son.

Wade Fowler

The co-owner of the F.A.N.G. Center, an animal rescue facility that takes in orphaned wild animals.

Walker

A member of Eli's Whitetail Militia.

Wendell Redler

He made it through Nam with his buddies. Now he’s an old man, his buddies are gone, and this is not the America he fought for in his youth.

Wheaty

The smart-ass quartermaster for the Whitetail Militia who also has a radio broadcast to counter the Father's propaganda.

Earl Whitehorse

The devoted sheriff of Hope County. He believes delivering justice with a gun should be a last resort. On the eve of his retirement, duty calls.

Willis Huntley

Just a man in love with the good ol' US of A.

Xander Flynn

Left California for Hope County to detox from the city life. Ended up finding "modeling" gigs at the Drubman Marina, and a cult cramping his style.

Zip Kupka

A self-proclaimed conspiracy "realist" who finds a new reason to hate the government with each passing day.

There were three more:

Coyote Nelson

Fishing is life.

In the files, Coyote Nelson is the name of the fisherman you meet at fishing spots.

Morris

A bright kid of Blackfoot heritage and the go-to person for all things computers and arcade machines. He keeps it on the down low.

The character’s full name apparently is Morris Aubrey. He’s the person who’s always near Far Cry Arcade machines and telling you how “awesome” the game is.

Scooter

A supply runner for the Whitetail Militia.

All I know about Scooter is that, according to a deleted mission objective, this character (who was also cut) was supposed to be escorted to the Wolf’s Den at some point.

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yumikitten · 7 months

Text

Things were going from good to bad in the blink of an eye. You'd been given a job offer you couldn't possibly refuse—one that paid better than the job you were currently at—but you'd need to relocate for it. And Noah was going to absolutely rage at knowing you'd be moving away from him. The two of you had been inseparable for the past ten years now, one always moving with the other.

You felt a slight panic as soon as you'd gotten off the phone with the hiring manager. Even though you knew you should take it, there was still one thing holding you back: Noah. The feelings you had for him had only grown with each passing day over the last decade, but how long were you supposed to follow him? At some point, you rationalized, you'd need to grow up and start thinking for yourself. If nothing had happened with you two in the last ten years, nothing was bound to at this point.

Still, there was that niggling feeling in the back of your mind that remained hoping something would eventually spark. Which is was part of the reason why your anxiety was slowly reaching its limit. That, and because Noah was always close by for anything. It would be like losing part of yourself with the move.

You needed a ride to work? He was there within ten minutes to take you.

Your garbage disposal stopped working? He fixed it for you the same day.

You were having an off day? Noah was sure to bring over your favorite snacks and watch your favorite movies to help perk you up.

No matter what the circumstance was, Noah was always there by your side. And it wasn't like the relationship was one-sided. You'd had your fair share of helping him, too.

He lost his voice from tour? You were there with home remedies to help him.

He had writer's block? You'd tell him crazy stories to help spark his inspiration again.

He wanted to walk around the neighborhood at 2am to think? You'd drive over to walk with him so he wasn't alone.

So your panic wasn't all for nothing. Whatever Noah did, you did too and vice versa. Just like him and Nick, you and znoah were your own package deal. At least until you moved.

If you moved, because you hadn't given an official answer yet. You knew that as soon as you told Noah, you'd gauge his reaction and let that make your decision for you. It was stupid to leave it up to someone else like that, let alone just with their reaction, but leaving him was just a huge as taking this job. Your breathing started to become shallow just thinking about it.

Looking to the time, you noticed you were five minutes late in leaving for dinner. Jolly wanted everyone to get dinner together at least once a month when they were home, and here you were trying to slow your breathing down. Honestly, you didn't know how you were going to school most of your expressions tonight, but you'd die trying if it meant you wouldn't cause a scene.

"No, I have to pull the Band-Aid off," you reasoned, knowing if you kept it to yourself any longer, it would only cause chaos. Besides, you told the hiring manager you'd call them with your answer by the end of the week and it was already Tuesday.

The boys were already prepping the grill by the time you showed up, earning an astonished glance from Folio.

"You're normally here before us, and we live here," he said with a chuckle, but your stomach was in knots. The drummer wasn't wrong in saying that, which only hurt you more. Even he knew how close you and Noah were; everyone knew.

"Y/N, are you feeling okay?" Nick asked gently, eyes searching yours to see if you were sick or anything.

"Mhm, yea. It's just been a weird day." You offered up a lame excuse, breathing in slowly to reign in your emotions.

"Do you need to talk about it?" Noah appeared from behind you, offering up a shooter glass that likely had whiskey in it to sip. Looking from the glass now in your hand to Noah, you had to make a quick decision. He was giving you a reason to tell him about this afternoon and all you had to do was take it. He was your best friend, he would understand, right? His eyes were filled with controlled concern, but you knew he wouldn't pester you if you weren't ready.

"Actually, yea. Can we really quick?" The words tumbled out of your mouth like vomit, Noah nodding and telling the guys you'd be back before the food was done. He led you to his room, shutting the door before sitting down at his desk. You had his full attention, and all you had to do was speak. Your nerves were starting to shoot through you painfully, the glass coming up to your mouth to drink the couple fingers of whiskey down completely.

"Woah, Y/N. What's going on?" This was a bad idea, you thought. You couldn't do this. What made you think you could do this? The whiskey burned through to your stomach, only making you feel more ill. "Hey, talk to me." Your eyes landed on Noah's again, the warmth of his tone bringing you back to reality.

"I um—have something to tell you. It's good, so there's no reason to freak out or anything." You finally said, but you know it was only half the truth.

"Okay, so why does it look like you're freaking out?" He laughed uneasily, clearly questioning why you seemed so rigid. Leave it to him to try and keep the atmosphere light.

"I got a job offer today and I'm thinking about taking it." You set the empty glass down on the nightstand so you could clasp your hands together. The nervousness was radiating off you in waves which was only sending weird signals to him.

"That's great news! Was it the one you were telling me about the other week? The one—"

"Yea, that one." You cut him off, even though he was genuinely so happy for you. Your heart was starting to crack little by little watching his pearly smile light up the room you were about to dampen. "They called me this afternoon, and I told them I'd give them an answer by the end of the week."

Now he seemed confused, his brows downturning and head cocking to the side. "You didn't tell them yes? Y/N, you've been waiting for something like that! Jump on it!"

Swallowing, you looked around his room. You remembered helping him move in when they got the place. Over time, he'd only added more and more to the white walls that used to be so blank. There was even a picture of the two of you celebrating your twenty-first birthday back home in Virginia. Just a couple years later, he was moving to Los Angeles and you followed him without a second thought.

"It is what I've been waiting for, but there's a couple things I need to think about first before accepting it." The alcohol was starting to make things a bit easier to talk about, Noah seemingly not understanding your vague choice of words.

"So, what. They won't match the pay? You have to wait a while for the start date? Whatever it is, you shouldn't sit on it. Take it; you've worked so hard and deserve it." Heat was building in your eyes from the unshed tears. Noah was being so supportive just like always, and all you could feel was guilt. His words were true. You had worked hard, you did deserve this chance. Yet there was still the one thing holding you back. Your one reason.

Shaking your head, eyes glistening by now, you finally told him, "The job is in Portland. I'd need to be there no later than the first of the month to start." That was only a couple weeks away, and you knew if you did accept the offer, you'd need to leave sooner to look for apartments in the area.

There was a wide range of emotions crossing Noah's face, all of them as clear as the last before he closed his eyes and smiled. He looked up from where he sat, blinking his eyes a few times. "And that's keeping you from answering? Y/N, this is an amazing opportunity for you."

Your heart was falling, but for a different reason now. This wasn't one of the mental scenarios you had come up with when you were running through them earlier. "It is, but Noah—I'd need to move."

He nodded, "Yea, but Portland isn't so bad, right? It isn't the cleanest anymore, but neither is LA. And it isn't like that's far, right? Just a quick plane ride." He was trying to reason with himself through trying to reason with you. His tone was calm, collected, and that only made you feel worse. Was he sad at all that you'd be leaving? That you wouldn't just be a car ride away anymore?

Did he care?

That question surfaced, and try as you might to shake it away, it still sat there demanding attention. You had been so worried to tell him, and for what? What did you expect was going to happen? That he would retaliate and beg you not to go? Your eyes sat on his still calm demeanor wondering if your friendship meant as much to him as it did to you. Well, at least you got your other answer; he didn't seem to have any hidden feelings for you like you did for him, which probably hurt a bit more.

"Was this why you were acting so damn squirrely?" He shook his head with humor, "let's get you another drink."

Instead of moving to follow him, you stood there mortified. Your stomach was churning, your nerves past their limits and all you wanted to do was curl up and hide from the world. Of course, Noah wasn't going to stop you from doing something you wanted. Of course, he'd support you. Of course, he'd want what he feels is best for you. The sir around you felt thick and heavy, as if it was beginning to weigh in you.

"I think—I think I'm gonna head home. I'm actually not feeling very well." It was hard to speak when you trying to hold back your tears.

"Can I get you anything?" His concern was back tenfold, his body standing in his doorframe. You hadn't even realized he'd opened the door.

Beg me to stay, you wanted to yell. But you shook your head, "No, my stomach is just kind of hurting. Guess I shouldn't have downed the whiskey." You laughed, but it was clearly fake. There was a panic attack rising and you just needed to go home to sort it all out. You moved past Noah, who was clearly still processing your answer, and made your way down the stairs to the front door.

"You're leaving already?" Jolly asked from the kitchen. It looked like they were done grilling, both Folio and Nick peering from around the corner to get a better look.

"I told you she didn't look well," Nick commented as Noah was walking down the last few steps toward you.

"Are you okay?" Jolly finally asked through the tension.

Smiling through the unshed tears, you nodded, "Yea, apparently I'm moving," you started to say, "I got offered a job and I'm moving to Portland."

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Noah's hands griped your arms gently, but his question felt like it was too loaded to answer. If you didn't leave now, you'd regret anything you'd have to say in an anxious rage. By now, the other three had stopped what they were doing to watch what was happening. You and Noah arguing let alone fighting in general wasn't something that happened often.

"I'm not feeling well, Noah. I'm heading home." Turning, you walked out the front door with your footfalls feeling heavier with each step you took.

As soon as you'd gotten home, you finally allowed your tears to fall. Looking around your apartment, you couldn't imagine trying to pack it up to move states. Least of all without your best friend. Your best friend who apparently didn't care if you left at all, the one who was only being supportive. He knew this job meant a lot to you, but what he wasn't aware of was how much more he meant to you. And you couldn't fault him for that. It wasn't like he could move with you like you did for him anyway. His job was here with the band. At some point, you knew you'd need to go your separate ways.

Your throat was burning as you groaned with anguish. How pitiful you felt by this turn of events. Honestly, you shouldn't have overthought this so damn hard. You ran out on dinner and away from Noah.

It had been a couple hours by the time you heard knocking on your door. The time was only nine at night, your phone long since been silenced so you could ease your mind and merely be. Maybe if you stayed in bed long enough, the person would assume you were either not home or asleep and just leave.

Another series of knocking had you getting out of bed. Throwing the door open, you saw Noah standing there in the clothes he had on earlier. His hair was in disarray and his eyes seemed red-rimmed like he'd been crying.

"You can't leave," he blurted out, his expression pleading with you.

"Why?" You moved so he could come in, closing the door behind him. "You said it yourself, I've been waiting for something like this. I'd be dumb not to." Your response was angrier than intended, but you weren't in the mental state to care right now.

"And that's true, and I know it's so fucking selfish of me, but you can't leave." His voice was rising, his eyes wild. This is what you wanted, so why were you fighting it so hard? He was telling you not to go, but somehow in your mind it was too late.

"You were so supportive of me earlier, so what changed?" You threw your hands up in anger.

"It doesn't matter as to why. What matters is none of us wants you to go!" He shouted back with the rising tension.

"It does matter!" You yelled back. "It fucking does, Noah! You can't just tell me to go and make it sound like it would be easy and then come over to tell me not to! So what the hell changed in the last two hours—"

"—because I fucking love you and can't stand the thought of you leaving me!" He screamed, veins popping out of his neck. You were speechless, utterly so as his eyes started to shine brighter in the dim lighting of your living room. "I can't stand the thought of you living so far away. And if it makes me the worst human on this planet to tell you to not take this job for my sake, then I guess I'm the fucking worst." You could hear the pain in his voice as his tone was starting to drop with emotion.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear the pulse in your ears. The tension was so thick around the two of you, it was amazing how you were still breathing. Noah said he loved you. It was something you'd only ever dreamed about saying to him but were so afraid of the outcome. Yet here he was laying it all out in front of you.

"You can't fucking go, Y/N. I know I've been so selfish—what with you moving here with me and always supporting me—but I can't just let you leave. Not without me pouring my heart out, anyway. If you don't feel the same, then forget it. It'll be like it never happened and we'll make it all work out. I'll help you move and get you settled—"

"Noah, shut up." You cut him off again, tears falling for a new reason now. How could you leave with hearing all of that? He remained quiet, watching you like he would truly let you leave if it was what you really wanted. But what you really wanted was right in front of you. "Why did it take us so long?" You began laughing, Noah's eyes widening at the change of tone.

"What?" He questioned seriously, unsure of what you were talking about.

"I told myself there was only one reason I'd stay, and it was if you asked me not to leave. When you didn't earlier, I gave up all hopes and that was that. I didn't think you'd ever tell me you loved me."

There was a blush running up the side of his neck as he grasped at what to say. "Listen, you don't need to make this decision purely because I told you not to go. This should be something you want."

"Noah, you don't get it." Now you were smiling, still sobbing here and there. "The one thing I've wanted for a while now is to hear you tell me you love me." Without a second thought you pulled him to you, your lips crashing against his like he was your lifeline. The astonishment seemed to pass quickly from Noah as he began kissing you back eagerly. His lips tasted of salt and rum; it was mildly addicting.

"Fuck, why did this take us so long?" He asked when he pulled away from you, forehead leaning against yours. "If you still want to go, I won't stop you. However, I'm not letting you leave without establishing whatever this is."

"Noah darling, I'm not leaving. Not just because you asked me not to, but because I can't stand the thought of leaving you behind."

#bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian and reader #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian imagine

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