#Pit latched on just as much as he did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forsworned · 13 days

Note

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't.

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night.

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #keegan p russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty smut #keegan x reader #cod keegan #keegan russ #keegan smut #eventual smut #alternate universe #cod au

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saintwyfe · 1 year

Text

࿐ ˚ . ✦ PDA. jude bellingham

summary. you and jude in the corner of an event doing little couple things :p

cw. none

word count. 528

"you’re not uncomfortable, are you?"

he lowered his head, his breath hovering over the hem of your neck.

"no, i’m fine. i promise, my love," you said, chuckling as your hand brushed his neck.

being about the sixth or seventh time he’s asked you this since you’ve been at this event, you found it incredible how much he needed reassurance about your security. you couldn’t complain, though. the extra attention was nice.

you two were intertwined in the bay of the busy venue. being an award ceremony, cameras were ubiquitous, and interviews were being conducted all over the room. luckily, he’d already appeared in a few, so you basically had him all to yourself for the rest of the night, excluding the instances of small talk exchanged with random acquaintances of his, of course.

his left hand gripped your waist, making sure everyone knew you were his (which simultaneously kindled your relationship's publicity). every now and again, he’d pull you in closer, and out of curiosity, you’d look up at him to make sure he wasn’t signaling for something.

your eyes darted to the side of your torso that he’d been latching onto when he pulled in slightly tighter again. instinctively, your eyes darted to his to make sure he wasn’t in trouble. unbothered, he’d just been scanning the room, watching his professional counterparts interact with each other. it took him a few seconds to realize that you’d been staring at him, and for the moment his eyes met with yours, you smiled.

he hovered over to the nape of your neck, rhapsodizing, "you look so, so gorgeous tonight." he pulled away, grinning.

for a second, you wanted to hide your flushed face, but your eyebrows just furrowed as you retained a gushing smile. "yea? i do?" you queried.

he nodded, repositioning you so that you were facing each other rather than side by side. "you do." he followed, "i can’t believe you’re mine. all mine." he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear while stroking your cheek along the way.

you bit your lip, preoccupied with scanning his angel-like features. you were taken aback when he did that eyes-lips-eyes thing (iykyk). it was difficult not to tremble—you couldn’t handle the butterflies. though you two have been dating for a hot second, there’s still a nervous pit you get in your stomach whenever you interact with him, let alone display affection.

you fluttered your puppy dog eyes, clueless of his temptations, forcing him to initiate something.

"you know, it’s so hard to try not to kiss you right now." he muttered, almost whining.

your eyebrows furrowed, letting out a small chuckle. "mm, then why don’t you?" you teased, cocking your head.

he shook his head, his hand reaching to cup your cheek before crashing his lips onto yours. his lips were soft and cherry-flavored from his lip balm. it was easy to drown in them. his other hand skimmed your back, pulling you closer to him and immersing you deeper in the kiss. your arm found itself cradling his neck for extra support. before you could pull back, you felt and quickly recognized a bright white flash in your direction.

click.

an: hmmm finally tumblr decided to cooperate with my posts? don’t even know why my tags were bugging for months but expect a post soon <3 thank u for 4k+ notes while I was gone, lygsm.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #football fanfic #football imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #football imagines #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham

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fear-is-truth · 2 months

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⬩ 𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑳𝑰𝑨𝑹 ── kai anderson

𝐓ags ⋮ nsfw ⭒ mdni— f!reader・hate sex ・biting・blood・hair pulling・swearing・ friends enemies with benefits?・unprotected p in v

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⟡ 𝓙: here’s a lil playlist to make up for the bad writing

ılılı hatefuck—cruel youth ・dog days—ethel cain ・ i hate everything about you—three days grace

“I hate you, you piece of shit,”

“You know, this would be so much better if you’d just shut up,”

Kai retorted through gritted teeth, his voice strained with exertion as he leveraged another sharp thrust into you, the kind that hits something deep inside and steal all the air from your lungs.

He was nothing but a beast; a feral dog that presses your back so hard against the wall that you ache, grips at your thighs and spreads them wide to groan in animalistic pleasure at the sight of you split open by his cock.

Damn him to the fiery pits of hell, you hated Kai Anderson with every fibre of your being. But here you were, fucking him for the third time this week, just the same.

The funny part? It was only Thursday.

“Fuck you,”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you fought back tears, nails digging into his shoulders with enough force to leave marks, to hurt.

Kai retaliated by tangling his fingers in your hair before tugging hard, the sting igniting a sharp pain that shot through your scalp.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that, cupcake?”

The words were punctuated by an extra brutal thrust. A rising moan bubbled in your throat, but you swallowed it back before sinking your teeth into his bare shoulder. Hard.

“Fuck,”

you whispered against his sweat slicked skin, tasting the familiar metallic tang as you realized you had bitten hard enough to draw blood.

“Taste like divinity to you?”

he hissed into your ear, taking advantage of the position to latch onto your neck, kissing your skin and nipping you hard enough to sting, making it feel even better.

“More like delusion,”

A strangled moan tore from your throat when he shifted the angle and began grinding relentlessly against your clit.

“Hmm. You're one to talk,”

Kai pressed his forehead to yours, forcing you to meet his gaze. Dark pupils were blown wide, a slow curl of a grin tilting his lips. The gesture was far from intimate; it only served to intimidate, a reminder of who held the power in making you fall apart.

And yet, you found yourself wanting it—needing it, even. If you were going to shatter, you wanted it to be at his hands.

It was a sickening realization.

He leaned in, pinning you harder against the wall and began fucking you in earnest. You knew how badly he wanted you to break, to scream for him. So you stayed silent.

You clutched his wrist when your orgasm crashed over you, a dry chuckle escaping your lips when you felt him tremble against you.

“Fuck,” he muttered into your hair, hips still rocking shallowly as your combined release dripped down your thighs.

The room was silent, broken only by the sounds of your ragged breathing.

You knew what would follow next. Tonight would unfold as it always did, cycling through the five stages like a worn-out script— resentment, annoyance, self-loathing, regret, and finally, numbness.

In the morning, you'd still despise him, revile his misogynistic ways, and regard him as nothing more than a loathsome creature. And he'd still regard you with equal disdain, seeing you as nothing more than a human fleshlight to be used at his whim.

Tomorrow, you'd still be at each other's throats, bickering over politics, while Winter tried to pry you apart.

You knew all that.

When he lowered you back to the floor and pulled out, you knew. When he tucked himself back into his hoodie and pulled up his jeans, you knew. When you made to brush past him and walk up the basement stairs, you knew that, too.

And it was okay.

It had served its purpose—an outlet for the anger he inspired, the fire he stoked, the rage he ignited inside you. His political views, his allegiances, none of it mattered in those moments. When you walked away, it was just a simple release of anger, accompanied by a rush of endorphins to sweeten the deal. nothing more.

“I hate you,”

This time, you were unsure if the words were meant for him or for your own ears, a feeble attempt to convince yourself.

So when Kai intercepted your attempt to leave by caging you against the wall with his arms, you knew something had changed. Your fingers instinctively reached for the gun in your pocket, but he was faster. His lips met yours, and gone was the usual roughness and scrape of teeth, replaced by only tenderness.

“You’re not that good a liar,”

he murmured against your lips before pulling away. You remained there, dumbstruck, as he pushed off the wall and sauntered up the flight of stairs.

TAGLIST: @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @officerballs @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @stveharringtn @kai-slut @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @doll3tt33 @silence-in-the-silver-state + send an ask to be added/removed!

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elyvorg · 3 months

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Kieran Part 2: It’s All About YOU

Well, looks like The Indigo Disk didn’t remotely drop the ball – it caught it in incredible style! Pokémon’s best character-writing job yet has been followed up and capped off with, if anything, something even better. Kieran is far and away the most complex and well-written character that mainline Pokémon has ever achieved, and I am here to talk about the second half of why this is, in very great detail. Consider me just, blown away. I have So Many Feelings about this boy.

This is of course a follow-up to my earlier analysis post about Kieran’s character and arc during The Teal Mask, which you can find here. Reading that before this is recommended!

(This will contain a couple of brief references to some post-epilogue lines, so if you haven’t got to that stuff yet and you really care about seeing it completely fresh, you might want to hold off on reading this for now. But there’s no actual spoilers for the epilogue itself in here, because, whoops, I think I’m gonna have to cover all of that in yet another post of its own.)

(Like last time, I will be largely referring to the player character as “you” for convenience, although I may shift into third person occasionally when I’m talking about the vague implications of a personality that they are given, since that’s a little more relevant this time.)

The gaping pit of inferiority

First, though, before getting into The Indigo Disk, I want to re-establish where Kieran’s character ended up at the end of Teal Mask, now that I have a clearer idea of exactly how that relates to where things are headed.

Kieran was always gripped by an aching inferiority complex, one too huge and unbearable for him to ever face directly. Prior to Teal Mask, he’d coped with that by clinging to the figure of the ogre as an ideal of strength. He imagined that maybe one day if he managed to grow strong enough to be just like it, the ogre would acknowledge him and be his friend – and that would finally mean that he mattered and he really was strong after all. He finally wouldn’t have to deal with the crushing pain of his inferiority complex any more.

But then, of course, you swept in with your amazingly perfect protagonist strength, ripping away Kieran’s chance of ever befriending Ogerpon and doing so in the most tragically agonising way possible that only seemed to validate and hammer home to him just how hopelessly weak he really is. Left with nothing but an even bigger gaping pit of inferiority inside him, and no longer able to cling to the idea of Ogerpon as a way for him to one day escape it, the only thing Kieran could do in order to cope was find something else to latch onto: you.

You became a greater ideal of strength to Kieran than even Ogerpon ever was during the events of Teal Mask, so now he’s hung everything on the thought of making himself strong enough to prove he’s just as good as you. If he can become strong enough to beat you, surely that of all things will be enough to prove that he matters and isn’t weak at all. It’s the only thing he can conceive of that might just free him from the grip of his terrifyingly massive inferiority complex, and he’s clinging onto it for dear life, striving for it to the point of obsession.

I saw a lot of people talk in the lead-up to this DLC like it was going to be about Kieran wanting revenge on you, but that’s not remotely it. He isn’t even able to comprehend the idea that anything you did to him could be considered wrong in the first place; that’s just how things were meant to go when you’re strong and he’s weak, right? Even though it was you who took everything away from him and made him feel so crushingly inferior, that pales in his mind next to how incredibly strong you are and how badly he needs to be like that himself. This isn’t even about him getting another shot at winning over Ogerpon, either – as much as you having become her trainer is a huge source of pain and jealousy for him, he seems to have pretty much accepted that there’s no changing that now.

What Kieran actually, consciously wants out of all this is… well, it’s extremely vague and nebulous, but that’s precisely the point, because there is no rationality involved in any of it. What is he really hoping to gain from it, when (if) he beats you? For you to decide to be his friend after all? For him to instantly become happy and finally feel strong? For him to magically turn into you and have all the good things you have that he envies about you? Obviously none of those things would necessarily happen, but Kieran is not consciously thinking any of this through to its logical endpoint. He’s not actually hoping to get a specific Thing out of beating you – he just desperately, indescribably feels like he needs to beat you, more than anything else in the world.

What Kieran really needs out of this deep down is for you, this person he’s warped himself into idolising as the Strongest Most Perfect Person Ever, to acknowledge him and his strength. It’s just like he wanted Ogerpon to acknowledge him before, shifted onto a new target of idolisation and grown far more desperately obsessive. If you of all people acknowledged him, then just maybe it might actually be true that he really is strong and worth something after all. At its most fundamental level, Kieran has always just deeply needed to gain a sense of self-worth, and yet his self-esteem is so horribly low that he’s basically incapable of doing so on his own without outside validation. But I really don’t think he’s aware on a conscious level that this is what he needs and what he’s striving to get out of all this.

(And of course there’s no way you’d ever acknowledge him and his worth as a person anyway, right? He thought you’d maybe done that when you called him a friend back in Kitakami, but any fleeting hope of gaining self-worth that way evaporated when you went and lied to him, validating his fears that obviously you’d couldn’t possibly have meant it. After all, why would someone as strong as you ever want to be friends with someone weak like him? The only way you’d ever possibly acknowledge his worth is if he conclusively proved that he’s even stronger than you, by defeating you in battle.)

Blueberry Academy

The other thing I want to do before getting into the events of The Indigo Disk itself is to re-evaluate a few assumptions I made about Blueberry Academy in the previous post, now that we’ve actually seen it for ourselves.

I was assuming that a significant part of the reason for Kieran’s inferiority complex was due to him being bullied at Blueberry, but… there’s absolutely zero indication from any of the NPC dialogue that any such thing happened. If the writers wanted this to be a fact that was relevant to Kieran’s character, they absolutely would have put something in. However, in hindsight, I realise that maybe I was primed to assume a bullying problem at Blueberry due to the Team Star storyline, when actually, Kieran being bullied there doesn’t necessarily fit. His issues about being shunned and his paranoia that people are laughing at him behind his back are so ingrained that they have to have originated from quite a while ago in his childhood – and he’s only a first-year at Blueberry.

So, scratch that part of the previous post: Kieran was not bullied at Blueberry Academy, but he was almost certainly bullied earlier on in his childhood, at whatever school(s) he attended beforehand. It wouldn’t necessarily have needed to be a really overt, physical kind of bullying either – that’s the sort of thing that Carmine would certainly have noticed and protected him from. But even something more low-key like being constantly left out of things and looked down on by others would have left a huge psychological mark on him, and would have probably been too subtle for his socially oblivious sister to do much about. (Or, in some ways, she might just have made such things worse by being so fiercely overprotective of him. Most people wouldn’t want to go near the kid with the Scary Big Sister who’ll bite their head off if they so much as look at him wrong.)

Bullying aside, I was looking for any kind of clues at all from the NPCs as to what Kieran was like at Blueberry Academy before his big change… and there’s almost nothing. Plenty of people comment on Kieran now, because everyone knows who he is as the Champion, but nobody shows surprise that it was this timid kid who rose up and beat Drayton. It seems that as far as most of the students are concerned, he just came out of nowhere. But maybe that’s the point; maybe almost nobody ever even noticed him or thought anything of him at all until he grew stronger. By the time he joined Blueberry Academy, Kieran’s default coping mechanism must have been to make himself as small and invisible as possible, so that basically nobody even really thought twice about him.

Only two whole NPCs actually make any kind of reference to what Kieran was like before he became Champion. (Well, other than Carmine, of course, and also discounting Amarys because she’d have only known Kieran through her friendship with his sister.) One of them is Drayton, who’d noticed him as the incredibly shy kid who nonetheless lit up with joy more than anyone else when watching battles. And then there is one random NPC you can find in the Central Plaza who comments on how Kieran has turned into a completely different person. That’s it. Only two people happened to have noticed this timid kid enough to realise he’s the same guy who suddenly became Champion. (And, while they both seem at least a little concerned, neither of them appear to have outright considered Kieran a friend, because of course not. You really were the first friend he’d ever managed to make, until everything went horribly wrong.)

One thing I was expecting to get from the vibe at Blueberry that it absolutely did deliver, mind you, was the culture around battling. There’s all sorts of talk about battling and getting stronger, double battles as standard to make things more strategic, and even the random NPC trainers can actually be kind of challenging. So I was definitely right that this culture must have contributed to Kieran fixating on getting stronger and proving himself to you through gaining more battling strength in particular. One NPC near the entrance also remarks that “you don’t look strong”, as if people here assume battling strength to be correlated with physical appearance, which… yeah, that explains a bit about why Kieran felt he needed to look different alongside becoming stronger in battle, doesn’t it.

Changing himself

Of course, Kieran’s reasons for changing up his appearance go much deeper than just wanting to superficially “look stronger”. In order to achieve the nigh-impossible feat of managing to match you in strength, he felt like he had to become nothing short of a completely different person. He can’t be anything like that timid, weak, pathetic kid from Kitakami who got walked all over, because there’s no way that kid would ever, ever be able to beat you.

Which means that absolutely everything about who he used to be needed to get thrown away. That hairstyle that practically covered his face and let him hide himself behind it? Gone. His country accent and way of talking due to being raised in Kitakami? That always made him feel different and outcast among the students at Blueberry already, but more than that, it’s a distinctive feature of that kid he used to be and cannot be any more, so he had to cast it away and learn to mask it. Even the unambiguously good parts of him – the way he’d always get so excited and passionate over things he finds cool! – they’re a part of his old self, so they had to go, no exceptions. Far be it from him to ever say “wowzers” any more, for more than one reason. His old hairstyle may have been the one that visually resembled a mask, but now he’s putting on much more of a metaphorical mask than he ever was before. (Putting on a mask to become stronger and hide his reasons to be cast out and shunned – a bit like a certain ogre.)

(And since Kieran’s just on the cusp of puberty, I find it fun to imagine that maybe his voice happened to start breaking in the interim between the two DLCs, so that he doesn’t just talk differently and mask his accent, his voice literally sounds different now compared to how it did before.)

Unfortunately for Kieran, no amount of fervently doing everything in his power to change and grow stronger can make his growth spurt come any sooner. It seems it hasn’t happened quite yet, leaving him awkwardly still the smallest person in the room even as he is trying to project an air of being Strong and Tough now. He gets around this as best he can by adopting a mannerism of taking a step back from people, to give him less of an angle to look up at, and tilting his head far enough back that he can kinda sorta still be looking down on them, in a sense. He is so desperate to not feel small any more.

(Fittingly – or ironically, perhaps – you are the one relevant person who is the same height as Kieran and can face him eye-to-eye. That’s bound to be feeding into his complex about you: all the other people he looked up to and saw as stronger than him were older than him and so they had a good reason to be that strong – but you and he are the same age. You should be his equal, and yet you can already do and have all these things that he could only dream of.)

And his timid demeanour isn’t the only thing from before that Kieran cast away – he also got rid of almost his entire team of Pokémon from those battles back in Kitakami. Nearly all of them went the same way as poor Furret and Cramorant before them, because they weren’t strong enough to win him that vital battle that would definitely have decided who got to become Ogerpon’s partner (right?), so there’s no way they’d ever be able to help him beat you now. The only exception to this is Dipplin, perhaps precisely because Kieran knew it was capable of evolving again and so still had more strength it had yet to show him. The rest of his team got completely overhauled, no doubt informed by his fervent studies in battling strategies to let him put together the strongest and most optimal team he could come up with.

I nearly had a whole spiel here about how excruciating it is that his new team has a Politoed, in that he could almost have kept another of his old partners from his Kitakami team if he hadn’t hastily evolved Poliwhirl into the less strategically-optimal evolution as part of his efforts to prove himself to you during Teal Mask. Except, actually, a postgame line implies that Kieran’s Politoed is also a longtime partner of his, along with his Poliwrath, like they’re a pair. So it’s not that he went and caught a “replacement” Poliwag that he was less attached to – apparently he always had two Poliwag friends from the start and just only ever trained up one of them to use against you in Teal Mask. Then, when that one had failed to be good enough for him, it was the other one’s turn to prove how strong it could really be.

As for his other new team members: Porygon-Z and Incineroar are both available in the Terarium, but Grimmsnarl is only available, to Kieran at least, in Kitakami. So that must be another one he’d caught during the school trip, maybe a candidate he’d considered training up back then but never quite had the time to alongside the rest of his team. And then there’s Dragonite, which is an interesting one, because the Dratini line is nowhere in either Kitakami or the Terarium – meaning, Kieran must have gone out of his way to trade for it in order to get one. Perhaps he was really impressed by the strength of Drayton’s Dragonite and wanted one of his own to match that? (but his has a very different build to Drayton’s, so it’s fine, he’s definitely not just copying Drayton in order to win, okay.) I like to think that maybe he got it from Carmine, who’d apparently been visiting loads of other regions with Briar during Kieran’s obsessive training arc and therefore could have been in a position to catch a Dratini.

More importantly than just catching these new Pokémon, though, would have been training them, which Kieran threw himself into so obsessively that it and studying battling strategies now consume every single moment he has, to a concerningly unhealthy degree. He’s cutting back on sleep, barely eating proper meals, because spending any more time than necessary on even things like basic physical needs is not acceptable to him. You are so overwhelmingly, impossibly strong in his mind that, in order to match your strength, Kieran feels like he has to give everything, no matter the cost to himself.

Being Champion

And, well, his fervent desperate self-destructive training did indeed make him strong enough to become Champion of the BB League. It’s only a stepping stone, a means to an end for his ultimate goal of being strong enough to beat you – but it’s something. As Champion, Kieran’s known to everyone in the school, getting awed murmurs wherever he shows up. People respect him now, because he’s proven that he's strong. (The very converse of how everyone ignored and shunned him back when he was weak. That’s how it goes, right?) And on top of that, he’s earned himself a position of authority over everyone in the League Club.

…Frankly, it’s a very stupid rule the club has to make the Champion be automatically in charge of the whole thing, precisely because of situations like this, in which the trainer who happens to be strongest also happens to be someone nobody else wants bossing them around. But thanks to that stupid rule existing, Kieran’s in charge now, and everyone else has to do what he says whether they like it or not, because he’s the strongest of all of them. Way to validate and perpetuate Kieran’s toxic worldview that having strength (battling strength) means you get to call the shots and walk all over anybody who’s weaker than you, and that’s just how things work.

Our first glimpse of how drastically Kieran’s changed, the interaction we see him having with that one poor club member, is bound to be the epitome of how he’s been treating everyone in the club these days. And he is not simply being a dick for the hell of it just because he can now and he’s turned Edgy or whatever – everything about his behaviour here is agonisingly rooted in his own deeply ingrained worldview about strength and weakness.

It's so tragically telling how he phrases his scathing disapproval of the poor guy as, “So that means you’re just OK being this weak forever? That what I’m hearing?” That’s not at all what the guy was saying, but Kieran hears it that way because he can’t help but see his own former, weaker self everywhere he looks. At the end of Teal Mask, he was trapped in that horrible pit of feeling like there was nothing he could do except be this weak forever, unless he devoted himself obsessively to becoming stronger and stronger and stronger with everything he had. Any tiny sign of weakness in anybody else reminds him of that place, reminds him that the only reason he’s not trapped there himself right now is because he’s spending every waking moment trying to claw his way out.

The guy’s reason for not completing Kieran’s training assignment wasn’t even that he didn’t want to do it. He said he’d had hectic stuff going on at home that meant he didn’t have time, which ought to be a perfectly reasonable excuse! But… not to Kieran, it isn’t. Kieran has sacrificed everything to become as strong as he is, even basic physical self-care; he would have chosen training over busy home-life stuff in a heartbeat. Anyone who isn’t willing to do the same, anyone to whom growing stronger isn’t the most important thing in the world – they’re not good enough. They must obviously just want to stay weak forever, like Kieran himself absolutely could not bear to be. So he kicks the poor guy out of the club, thus dooming him, in Kieran’s view, to really being stuck this weak forever with no chance to improve.

It's bound to be just like this for everyone else in the club, too, based on plenty of comments we hear about how Kieran becoming Champion has taken the fun out of everything, and the ridiculously strict rules he’s apparently put in place. He’s projecting his own unhealthily high standards of strength onto everyone else, then shunning them if they don’t manage to live up to that, because that’s just what happens to people who are weak, right? It is agonising to watch Kieran perpetuating the exact same toxicity that he used to always feel like he was on the receiving end of, especially as that isn’t even really why he was ever treated that way.

None of this is the behaviour of someone who is even remotely secure and confident in their strength. Despite being Champion and having the respect of the entire school, Kieran is still constantly terrified that even the slightest thing, even so much as allowing a tiny instance of “weakness” in anyone associated with him, will cause all of the strength he’s worked so hard to build to come crashing down in an instant. (One detail I really love about the scene where he’s telling that one guy off is the way Kieran’s tapping his foot at the beginning. He probably means it as a way to express impatience, but really it comes across as incredibly anxious and insecure. The animators did some excellent stuff with Kieran in this DLC.)

And what’s extra heartbreaking is that Kieran doesn’t need to be doing any of this. He’s the Champion now; he is undeniably strong; he’s able to talk to others; people notice and respect him. He is already in a position to reach out and grasp everything he’s ever wanted: acknowledgement, friendship, fun. He used to love battling – he’s supposed to love battling – so he could be having a great time with all this! If he just dropped this toxic mindset and stopped letting it turn him into a massive jerk, he could make friends with the Elite Four and others in the League Club and not be alone any more!

But he’s not able to see any of that. None of the things he’s already genuinely gained for himself truly feel like they matter, not when they’re all just a means to an end for the one thing that does – proving he can beat you. By desperately hanging his entire self-worth on the idea of becoming strong enough to measure up to you and nobody else, Kieran has blinded himself to the fact that he’s already found a good amount of what he’d always truly wanted in the first place. And it also means that, if he can’t beat you when that day comes, everything he’s done will be for nothing.

Drayton and Carmine

But although nobody is happy with the way things are now (least of all Kieran himself), it seems only a couple of people have been willing to question Kieran’s “authority” enough to try and talk him out of this.

One of them is Drayton, who’s doing this not just out of wanting his club to go back to normal, but also because he’s the almost-only person to have noticed the timid yet battle-loving kid Kieran used to be, and he genuinely wants to help Kieran remember how to have fun like that again. Unfortunately, it seems that any of Drayton’s attempts to tell him this bounced right off Kieran, because fun and excitement were a part of that weak kid he used to be and absolutely cannot be any more.

Plus, with his newfound authority and validation of his toxic worldview, Kieran would easily be able to brush off anything Drayton said to him with the excuse that he doesn’t have to listen to someone who can’t beat him. He actually mentions at one point that Drayton “always loses” to him, implying they’ve battled more than once. Apparently, in an attempt to get Kieran to listen, Drayton actually went and challenged him to a rematch at some point, or maybe even several – a remarkable amount of effort, coming from Drayton – but he still couldn’t win.

(Kieran is bound to be super jealous of the way Drayton appears so effortless in his strength, when Kieran himself had to train and strive so hard to reach this level. But on the flip side, now that Kieran is the stronger one, he can use Drayton’s laziness as another way to paint himself as superior. Obviously the reason Drayton keeps losing to him is because he doesn’t train nearly as hard as Kieran does.)

It also doesn’t help that Drayton’s attitude towards Kieran when he’s not specifically trying to encourage him to have fun again is very sarcastic and condescending, drawing from his deep frustration at Kieran’s attitude. It must be very easy for Kieran to completely overlook the part where Drayton is actually doing this because he cares – he probably feels that Drayton just hates him and wants him gone. (Just like everyone who’d always shun him and treat him like an outcast before, right.)

Then there’s Carmine, who’s been incredibly worried about the change in her brother and is bound to have done her fair share of trying to talk him out of this too, evidently also to no effect. It’s certainly easy for Kieran to remain oblivious to the fact that she’s doing this because she cares about him and isn’t just trying to bring him down, since she has, uh, historically not been very good at showing that.

It seems that Kieran has largely been avoiding Carmine since he overhauled everything about himself. No doubt a lot of that is because, what with her being part of the reason for his inferiority complex in the first place, she’s capable of triggering his insecurities more intensely than anybody else can. But maybe it’s also partly because on some level, he’s aware that she’s got a point now with the things she’s trying to say to him, and that makes him feel bad, and have doubts that he can’t afford to be having. Carmine’s certainly right to be concerned that his behaviour now would be driving any friends of his away – although she is almost definitely wildly wrong to be assuming Kieran even had any friends other than you before all of this.

(For that matter, she’s very wrong to assume that you are still his friend right now in a totally normal way; ha ha ha. But then, based on your options of “yes” and “yes” when Drayton asks you if you're Kieran's friend, it seems that you – the player character – are also somehow completely oblivious to the fact that Kieran just maybe might not consider you a friend any more on his end. Which just makes this whole thing even more excruciating.)

The dynamic between the siblings during the one brief time we see them interact here has notably changed, in that Kieran is finally able to stand up for himself more, telling Carmine to shut up when she tells him off. And yet, he doesn’t do so very forcefully, averting his gaze in a way that suggests he just sort of mumbles it. He probably realises she has a point about what she was saying – that he shouldn’t act so condescending towards you. Which on Carmine’s end, she said because she doesn’t want him to drive away the one friend he still (supposedly) has, but that’s not how it’d read on Kieran’s end, because he doesn’t believe you ever were his friend at all. He must have felt like his sister has a point only because he doesn’t have the right to act that way towards you, not when he still hasn’t proven himself to you yet (and maybe never will).

Unexpected reunion

See, there’s a lot of interesting stuff going on under the surface of Kieran’s reaction to suddenly meeting you here. Literally everything he’s been doing this entire time has been for the sole purpose of defeating you when he sees you again. Which means that you showing up and challenging the BB League should be exactly what he wants and has always been waiting for. And yet.

The first notable thing is that he had nothing to do with inviting you here – the person responsible for that was Carmine. She probably figured that you’d be able to help her brother out, so she recommended you to the director when she heard he was looking for an exchange student to invite from Paldea. As Champion of the school, Kieran should also have had enough influence to make such a recommendation – but he didn’t.

Then, when Kieran comes to the cafeteria, he has plenty of condescending things to say to Drayton (about how taking a lunch break is a waste of time, because who needs to bother with basic physical needs like eating when they could be training instead, right). But the moment he sees you, he’s just shocked at you even being here… and then he’s very quiet for the entire rest of the conversation.

Drayton puts things to a vote among the Elites plus Kieran as to whether you should be allowed to join the BB League, and – despite that this should be exactly what he wants – Kieran is the last to vote. He only does so when he’s forced to break the tie.

(Although, it’s revealing in a different way that the Elite Four all ask each other for their opinions first, with none of them naturally thinking to consult Kieran. Despite his newfound strength and authority, he is still socially excluded – but this time he really has nobody but himself to blame.)

Kieran’s wording of how he casts his vote is so very telling. Just: “It doesn’t matter who I’m facing… I don’t lose.” – and he says nothing else before leaving in a huff. He words this in a generalised way, as if this an overarching principle of his that has nothing to do with you in particular, even though it’s always been about you. Because if he let himself think about how you in particular will be his opponent, then suddenly the statement that he doesn’t lose doesn’t feel so certain. But, put on the spot like this, he cannot show any sign that he’s afraid he might lose to you – that would be like giving up and accepting that all the effort he’s put in for all this time has been for nothing. So he has no choice but to let you join.

(Drayton totally knew he would refuse to lose face like this if put on the spot, of course, and that the Elites would vote 2-2 between them and leave Kieran with the deciding vote, which is precisely why he set things up this way. Kieran’s not unaware of this, either.)

There’s a brief interim here as you head to the front desk to officially sign up for the League. This gives Kieran a moment alone to process the fact that, welp, this really is happening, you’re really here, and, isn’t this supposed to be exactly what he always wanted? Hasn’t everything always been so that he can beat you this time? He manages to twist things around in his head, convince himself that yes, this is it, the chance he’s been waiting for, and he will win when it comes down to it, he will, because that’s what it’s all been for.

As such, when he shows up at the front desk to confirm that he’s allowing you to join, Kieran is able to be a lot more direct about you challenging him than he was in his one whole sentence on the topic in the cafeteria. Even then, he makes a comment to Drayton about how he feels like he was manipulated into this… then immediately insists that he’s fine with it because this is what he wanted anyway. If it was truly 100% what he wanted, he wouldn’t have felt manipulated!

To sum all of this up: it is abundantly, delightfully clear beneath the surface that Kieran does not actually feel ready to face you. He would never have felt ready for this, no matter how long he’d spent training and pushing himself, because your impossible unreachable strength and his own inherent worthlessness are both so deeply ingrained in his mind that he is incapable of truly believing he can match you.

But, well, here you are, and now Drayton’s trapped Kieran in this situation where he has no choice but to keep up the mask of strength and confidence he’s been putting on all this time. So he’s got to act like he’s fine with you challenging him, whether he truly feels ready or not.

Your Elite Four challenge

As you work your way through the Elite Four’s ranks to earn the right to challenge him, Kieran is very insistent that you’d better not dare lose to anybody else before facing him, or to have gotten weaker in any way since he last met you.

You might think that Kieran would be glad if you actually did lose to one of the Elite Four and never manage to make it to him, because, hey, that means he’s already stronger than you! He doesn’t even have to worry about whether he can win his battle against you! But… no, that wouldn’t be how it’s supposed to go. The way Kieran’s been building things up in his head the entire time, his whole life is supposed to magically somehow get better when he beats you. He needs to prove himself and his new strength to you, specifically. It wouldn’t mean anything if someone else beat you first, or if you’re somehow not actually still the impossibly strong person he’s idolised and fixated so hard on becoming equal to. That’d just be the most crushing anticlimax for him, in which he never gets to achieve what he’s been striving so hard for, and in which he’d have to somehow come to terms with the fact that… he’s already stronger than you, and yet he still doesn’t feel better or any less agonisingly inferior than he always did? If that happened, he’d be at a complete loss as to any other way to escape how he feels about himself.

But, fortunately for him (for some value of “fortunate”), you of course still are just as strong as you always were. On hearing you assure him of this, and also on seeing it for himself as he watches one of your Elite Four battles, Kieran gives this awful twisted grin that does not even slightly reach his eyes (because he has completely forgotten how to genuinely smile and no doubt hasn’t ever done so this entire time). Yes, he will still get to have his long-anticipated showdown with you, and winning that will still somehow magically definitely fix everything that was ever wrong in his life. Definitely.

There’s also the part where, because you come with such glowing recommendations, you get to skip working your way up the BB League from the very bottom and can start right at challenging the Elite Four. Kieran has to feel all kinds of ways about this – on the one hand, he’d tell himself he’s glad because this means he has less time to wait until the battle that he’s definitely totally ready for, and he knows full well that you wouldn’t need to waste your time on small fry at the bottom. But on the other hand… he had to painstakingly work his way all the way up from zero in order to get where he is, so it sure is something that you’re so special that you just get to skip doing that. (And if you did have to start at the bottom, then it’d give him more time to train himself, just to make absolutely sure that he really is ready to face you…)

When you’ve beaten the final Elite, Kieran shows up again and scoffs that this was kind of slow for you, wasn’t it? I believe this isn’t just posturing and was his genuine reaction – you’re so impossibly perfect in his mind that he can’t even comprehend the idea that you wouldn’t breeze through this effortlessly without a single hitch. But still, at least he can turn the fact that you fell short of his impossible expectations into condescension that helps him feel above you and definitely capable of beating you. (How long did it take him to beat the Elite Four, I wonder? Probably longer than you – but of course he’s not gonna bring that up.)

Drayton, meanwhile, has now picked up on the fact that Kieran isn’t just obsessed with winning like he’d initially thought – he’s obsessed with you. Maybe he’d have approached things a little differently if he’d been aware in the beginning that you were a lot more to Kieran than just an old friend. But, welp, bit too late to back out of what he’s set up now, whoops.

And on Kieran’s end, he hasn’t let go of the feeling of being manipulated into this, and now feels like you and Drayton are plotting against him. This poor kid’s paranoia and tendency to assume people are laughing at him behind his back has still not gone away, even if it’s taken on a slightly different form now. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t ever learn that Carmine was the one who called you here, or he’d think she was in on this supposed conspiracy too.

(But, hey, while Kieran could never do anything about it before whenever he was ganged up on and shunned by others, at least now he’s finally strong enough to fight back and hold his own, despite being outnumbered, right? Just like the ogre did.)

THE BATTLE

So now, it’s finally time: the battle that Kieran has absolutely everything riding on. Of course I’ve already made it abundantly clear here that every single thing he’s done has been for the sole goal of beating you right here and now – but it says a lot that he spends his pre-battle speech making sure you know this. He probably feels like you’re such an amazing superstar trainer that challenging someone for their Champion title is basically just another Tuesday for you, like this is nothing on your end – but this battle is everything for him, everything that he’s been spending every single moment of every single day building up towards for all this time, and he needs you to acknowledge this.

And as if that wasn’t enough, as the battle opens, Kieran screams into the sky with the sheer uncontainable emotion of how much this means to him. Everything he’s been feeling, bottling up, clinging to for so long is spilling out of him now that he’s finally here in this one pivotal moment he’s always been waiting for.

It comes spilling out in a lot more than just that scream, too; he has so many things to say throughout the battle as it all reaches fever pitch inside him. While some of his in-battle dialogue during his Teal Mask fights had fun hints at his issues in there, this one battle here absolutely takes the cake. This is quite possibly the most dialogue in any battle in any Pokémon game, and all of it has something interesting and nuanced going on that’s rooted in Kieran’s massive issues. I cannot resist taking this opportunity to talk about every single bit of it.

His first line as the battle begins is, “I know I’m making the right choice… You’ll understand that soon enough!”, which seems kind of odd on the surface. What “choice” is he even talking about that he feels the need to justify? Accepting a challenge to his Champion position is just what Champions are meant to do. But that’s not what Kieran’s thinking about here – he’s thinking about all of those times that Drayton and Carmine tried to talk him down from the entire way he was acting and pushing himself too hard. Every time they did, he insisted to himself that no, training this insanely hard is the right choice, he needs to do this, and it’ll all be worth it when he beats you. …Somehow. Definitely. You’ll see, you will, you have to…!

On the very first hit he lands on you – it doesn’t even need to be super-effective, any damaging hit will trigger it – he says, “How do you like that? See how hard I’ve trained? Not like that kid you battled in Kitakami, huh?!” In reality, the hit he lands here isn’t necessarily any bigger than the kinds of hits he dealt to you back in Kitakami – but it feels bigger to Kieran. He’s trained so hard that he feels so much stronger and so different from the kid he was back then, and he needs you to see and acknowledge this too.

Meanwhile, your first super-effective attack you land on him manages to pierce through his mask for a moment and get a “wowzers” out of him. It’s not actually any more impressive than any other super-effective hit he might receive from any other trainer – but because it’s coming from you, it feels so much more incredible, triggering his instinctive irrational idolisation of you just for a moment before he collects himself and puts his mask back up.

Then he insists that he’ll still win anyway, even if “the type matchups work out for you”. Which… isn’t how type matchups in battles work? Sure, you landed one super-effective hit, either because one of your Pokémon happened to have a good matchup, or you just had a good coverage move. That doesn’t mean that all of the type matchups in the battle are inherently in your favour. But Kieran apparently feels like they are – because, when it comes to him versus you, he always feels like everything in the world is on your side and he has to claw and grasp to regain the tiniest bit of ground against his inherent overwhelming disadvantage.

Speaking of everything being on your side, when you land your first critical hit on him (and I say “when” here because this battle is long enough that statistically you’re extremely unlikely not to at some point!), his response is delightful, raging that “even luck’s chosen you over me!” and that it’s “not fair!!!” All of his bitterness and jealousy about Ogerpon choosing you over him is still raw, evidently, so even something like you getting a statistically near-inevitable critical hit feels to him like luck itself taking your side against him, because everything always does. And on some level, he may have realised that you befriending Ogerpon was partly due to the sheer luck of you happening to meet her while he wasn’t around, so of course he’s bitter about luck because of that, too. It’s not fair, how you always get everything, so effortlessly, while he has nothing.

(He doesn’t comment at all if and when he lands a critical hit, because of course not. Confirmation bias is one hell of a drug.)

And of course, you bringing out Ogerpon herself gets an extremely strong reaction from Kieran. “You’ve got some nerve,” he snarls among broken mirthless laughter, to bring her out “NOW of all times?!” This, right here and now, was supposed to be his moment, his time to finally shine and show you how strong he is and take the victory. And yet you’re choosing this moment to parade Ogerpon in front of him, a reminder of the painful losses and inferiority he suffered back in Kitakami that he’s tried so hard to forget and overcome by making himself stronger, just rubbing it in his face that you got to have her because you’re so strong and lucky and perfect.

His expression during this line is one hell of a thing as well: shocked and wide-eyed and practically terrified, in stark contrast to all of his other expressions in this fight. He’s not only reeling from the pain of having his inferiority from back then shoved in his face, but also, he’s always believed that Ogerpon is so incredibly strong. If you’re using her against him in this battle, you and her working together… how is he ever going to be able to defeat that combination of impossible strength…?

(Apparently, Kieran’s trainer AI actually has a modification in this fight that makes him prioritise attacking Ogerpon more than an AI trainer otherwise would, which is delightful, I love that that’s a thing devs programmed in there. Of course he’d desperately want to get Ogerpon off the field as fast as he could before she utterly destroys him.)

As his back’s against the wall and he’s sending out his final Pokémon, Kieran’s still raging, with increasing desperation: “Just go down already! How are you still standing after I’ve thrown everything I have at you?!” This battle is not at all going how he’d insistently imagined it would in his head, in which he’d prove himself and win, not even though he’s giving it absolutely everything he has. (And the thought that you still won’t go down even then is terrifying to him. He really has given everything to this, he couldn’t possibly have done more – and yet, what if that still isn’t enough to beat you? That’d mean it’s just impossible for him, no matter what he does, and he’d have absolutely no idea how to cope with that.)

Just before he Terastallises his Hydrapple, he insists that he “doesn’t need the old me”, that he’s changed – here’s the way he felt he had no choice but to throw away everything about his former weaker self in order to get stronger, even the positive parts. But then he adds, “and I’ll show you I can change again!” He’s not just literally referring to the Terastallisation he’s about to do (although it’s thematically fitting that he brings up this topic as he’s doing this – and his Hydrapple’s Fighting Tera-type is a neat link to him having changed himself into being obsessed with strength) – rather, he’s referring to what he’s convinced himself will happen when (if) he wins this fight. That’ll change everything for him, right? That’ll make everything good, finally; he’s going to change for the better once he wins this, he has to…!

And then… Kieran’s animation while he’s Terastallising is an odd one. He’s remarkably expressionless about it, compared to the intensity of his expressions in the entire rest of the fight. But I think the reason for this must be: most trainers wince with the force of it as they begin charging their Tera Orb – and apparently, Kieran doesn’t want to be seen doing that, because that’d make him seem weak. So he’s trained himself to put on an expressionless mask, not even looking at the orb directly, to avoid that. (And one of the few trainers who doesn’t wince, who’s able to stare directly at the dazzling power coming from their Tera Orb without flinching, holding it up for all to see… it’s you, of course. Kieran almost certainly saw this from you a few times back in Kitakami.)

His last possible line in the fight, as he orders an attack from his Hydrapple, at which point he is guaranteed to have only one or two Pokémon left and be desperately fighting to hold on with his back against the wall, includes him saying, “I’m capable of winning too, you know!” Because that is definitely a very normal thing for a reigning Champion to need to say to their challenger. Even with all the victories he’s had on his way here, Kieran still has to fight to convince himself that he is capable of winning, because being up against you and teetering on the brink of defeat like this just reminds him of all his previous agonising losses at your hands, his inferiority complex rising up to overwhelm him with the feeling that he’ll never be able to be strong or win anything at all.

(And, hey… what if he had actually managed to win? Tragically, the game does not let you see any of his reaction if you do happen to lose to him; it just rewinds time like it never happened. But there’s no way that Kieran beating you here would truly have helped or fixed anything about that massive inferiority complex of his. He’d ride the high for a bit, but then he’d go back to the same condescending façade he’d had before and gradually realise that… he doesn’t actually feel any better about himself beneath it like he was supposed to once this happened. Funnily enough, beating you in a Pokémon battle would not have magically turned him into you.)

Everything falls apart

But, of course, because the game refuses to let you not be the Perfect Protagonist (or, perhaps, because the narrative needs to go this way in order for him to actually get better in the long run), Kieran loses. The last time he lost a pivotal battle against you that he’d told himself everything depended on, back in Kitakami, he crumpled immediately in defeat – but this time, his reaction’s a lot more drawn out. Back then, the conviction that he could never ever beat you was right there at the surface to the point that he was basically expecting to lose despite his determination. But here, he’s spent so long insisting to himself over and over that he will win this time, he will, convincing himself that things just have to go that way… that it takes him a moment to even process the fact that they haven’t. He’s just shocked, lost, dumbfounded, not knowing how to react, because this wasn’t supposed to happen…!

But then the spectators around him mutter and begin to leave, apparently because he lost, because he’s no good after all and so there’s no point staying to watch him, and this seems to be what agonisingly drives home the reality to Kieran. All the respect and esteem he’d managed to grasp for himself – in this one awful moment it feels like all of it is crumbling away before his eyes. All of his effort to get here (so much effort) was worthless, all because he couldn’t beat you. He’s gone right back down to being nothing. I adore the blurry effects in the cutscene as Kieran sways and staggers and collapses, giving a visceral sense that the shock of this is hitting him so deep that it's rendered him physically light-headed and dizzy. Guh, this poor kid.

And then Drayton has to come along and rub it in. Kieran winces in agony as he gets smugly called “ex-Champion” – though he was never doing any of this for the Champion title itself, having it meant something and made him matter, and now that’s gone like it was never there at all. It’s bound to sting especially hard coming from Drayton, whom Kieran believed was plotting with you to take him down, take away everything he had, and now that’s exactly what’s happened, because he wasn’t strong enough to stand up for himself after all.

…The fact that Drayton felt the need to be a smug bitch about this first and foremost does not remotely help Kieran actually listen to and internalise the genuinely good advice Drayton gives just a few moments later. He really was doing this because he cares, and because Kieran ought to go back to having fun with things! But of course Kieran isn’t in any state to listen to that, not after all his paranoia about Drayton manipulating him, and then Drayton rubbing his loss in on top of that; he still has no idea that the guy genuinely wants to help him. (Unfortunately, while Drayton cares about the person Kieran should be, he has been deeply frustrated by the person Kieran is being, and that comes out in sarcasm and smuggery first, hence why this completely bombs.)

So instead of taking on board Drayton’s advice, which he probably wasn’t even listening to, Kieran just starts desperately, incoherently mumbling about how he’ll win next time. It’s the only thing he can cling to – the same thing he always has, to escape the all-consuming, unbearable thought of just being achingly inferior forever and ever with no way out. He still can’t see any other way out that isn’t beating you. (But… how is he ever going to win next time, when he’s already given it absolutely everything he had and still couldn’t manage it…?)

Seeing him being so clearly Not Okay, you approach him and (probably) attempt to say something to him, but it seems like even if you try, you barely get any words out before Kieran just shuts down even more. He reacts with slumping, and with an “Aw, man…” – the same words and body language he’d often have back in Teal Mask whenever something (usually his sister) would push back at him and make him feel small. Now that he can no longer cling to his façade that he totally is stronger than you and just hasn’t proven it yet, he’s reverted right back to the state of mind he was always in back then. And it’s you in particular that triggers his inferiority complex harder than anything else right now, even if you just silently approach him, or say a few words that certainly wouldn’t have been anything cruel.

It's a bit of a shame that the game doesn’t actually let us see what you try to say to him, assuming you do. But it most certainly couldn’t have been anything along the lines of “You put up a really tough fight!”, because that kind of thing – acknowledging Kieran’s strength, even though he lost – is exactly what he’d need to hear right now, and he’s clearly not hearing it. Whatever it was you did say, he probably barely even heard it beneath his crushing sense of inferiority at being near you, and you probably trailed off pretty quickly upon seeing his reaction.

(In fact, it might say a lot that your dialogue options here are so non-specific that they’re literally just “Say something/nothing”. This suggests that the player character has no idea what to say to Kieran at seeing him in this absolute state, and they can only choose to either accept that and remain silent, or to fumble for something to try and say anyway. I believe it’s pretty important to “your” role in Kieran’s arc that the player character is extremely socially awkward and just finds themselves utterly lost as to how to deal with him breaking down like this because of them. Someone with better social intelligence would be able to say the right thing here to help him at least begin to feel better! But that someone is emphatically not you, it seems. This apparent social obliviousness also tracks with the fact that you – the player character – agreed with Carmine’s very short-sighted decision to lie to Kieran back in Kitakami, thus unwittingly setting off this whole domino effect of his issues in the first place.)

Sudden legendary hunt

If Kieran had had longer to process his defeat, maybe he’d have realised that there really is no way he can “win next time” when he already gave it his absolute all this time, and he might have begun to approach the fact that there’s nothing he can do but let things go. However, while he’s still reeling, he almost immediately gets dragged into the meeting with Briar about her expedition to Area Zero.

Kieran looks like he’s barely even listening to the conversation at first, just staring miserably into space in front of him, no doubt stuck endlessly thinking how can I ever be stronger than you when everything I had still wasn’t enough??? But then Briar mentions that they’ll get the opportunity to find a legendary Pokémon on this quest – and whoops, now Kieran’s paying attention. Because here’s the answer to his impossible conundrum of how he can beat you next time.

Make no mistake: this is nothing like Ogerpon was to him. He’d been fixated on her and cared about her ever since he was little for deeply personal reasons based on him relating to her situation and projecting onto her. Her strength was part of it, but it wasn’t that he wanted to obtain that strength by catching her; he just admired her strength and wanted to be like her, and if he could, then maybe one day she’d acknowledge that by being his friend (and therefore also incidentally his Pokémon partner). But Terapagos is nothing to Kieran here other than a source of potential strength for him to acquire for himself by capturing it, a tool that will finally let him beat you.

Nonetheless, because this is another legendary Pokémon, Kieran can’t help but draw the surface comparison to Ogerpon anyway and remember the way she chose you over him. He’s probably already imagining that Terapagos might just do the same thing, because you’re so strong and special while he’s nothing – so he tells himself, fervently, that no, he won’t let that happen again, he won’t let this chance go.

He doesn’t ever say as much, but he’s bound to be already having doubts as to if he really could ever capture such an amazing Pokémon. Legendary Pokémon – or really, any Pokémon in general – are supposed to join trainers once they acknowledge their strength; that’s what battles to weaken and capture a wild Pokémon are all about. How is Kieran ever going to get Terapagos to do that for him when he’s so weak? But even so, even if it seems too good to be true, he has to cling to this possibility. It’s the only chance he has left to still just maybe be able to beat you, to continue running away from that gaping pit of inferiority inside him that he doesn’t know how to face.

(A minor nitpick I have with the game’s writing: it’d have been fun here if things had been subtler and Kieran hadn’t outright said that he wants to catch Terapagos at all. His intent would have been very clear regardless for anyone who could read between the lines – I realised what was up the moment he reacted to hearing about a legendary, because Oh No. But nonetheless, it seems like you the player character and also Carmine are both socially oblivious enough to fail to follow Kieran’s stated intent to catch Terapagos through to its obvious conclusion of “he’s still fixated on beating you”. I guess the two of you just assume, oh, hey, he’s found another legendary Pokémon to get excited about, that’s good, that means he must be getting over Ogerpon, right…? Ha. Ha ha ha. If only.)

Journey through Area Zero

As you make your way into and through the depths of Area Zero, Kieran seems to have largely lost hold of the condescendingly superior façade he’d been putting up all this time (after all, he doesn’t have the right to act that way towards you when he’s still weaker than you). This allows a few little hints of his true self to begin to rise to the surface and shine through again, at least a little bit.

He lets slip a “wowzers” on seeing the sheer alien beauty of the place for the first time, and later at the lab he’s so excited at the technology reminding him of a spy movie that he even forgets to mask his accent for a whole sentence. But both times, he’s quick to catch himself and brush it off and act aloof. That excitableness was part of who he used to be, that kid who was weak, and he's still convinced that he can’t afford to be that person any more. But, hey, getting these little reminders that he actually enjoys being his true self and has missed it, at least certain parts of it, has to help! Plus, Carmine seems happy at these moments of him being the little brother she knows and loves again; they have a bit of regular healthy sibling banter; she notices him being considerate about Briar reading someone’s private diary…

These are all good signs that Kieran’s starting to get back to normal, maybe just a little… but, not completely. The spark still isn’t there in his eyes, even when he’s smiling about the cool spy vibe of the lab. Despite the distractions, he’s largely very intent on just getting to the legendary Pokémon and nothing else. And perhaps most relevant of all, he barely says anything of substance to you, even if you try and talk to him.

He does have a notable reaction near the beginning when you mention that you came here last time with some friends of yours. Kieran had probably never quite considered the idea of you having other friends before – Ogerpon did not exactly prime him to imagine that about his idols, after all – but, now that he’s hearing it… of course you’ve got friends. Why wouldn’t you? You have everything, everything he’s always wanted so badly for himself but could never, ever have.

Then, of course, you’re the one who does all the hard work in the Underdepths to deal with the sparkling Pokémon that are blocking the way forwards. For the first one, Carmine almost asks Kieran to take care of it before changing her mind and asking you, which, ouch, that’s got to have stung. (I don’t think she did that to deliberately be unkind, though; it’s probably that she still feels a little weird and uncomfortable about her brother battling, because of the way he’s been, so she’d rather just watch you battle it instead.)

Because of all this, later on Kieran bitterly comments that he feels like everyone’s relying on you too much. Really, the only reason this is the case is because you just happen to be the one who has the lizardbike buddy that can navigate you to the Pokémon you need to defeat… but then, that in itself is another sign of how special and favoured by legendaries you are, isn’t it.

And actually, you’re not necessarily the only one who can reach the sparkling Pokémon! Kieran has a Dragonite, which must have been what he rode on for the flying Elite Four trial, so, in theory, he could go and deal with those sparkling Pokémon himself. But he doesn’t, because you’re already doing it anyway, and he doesn’t feel worthy of taking the spotlight from you. (Or, he could ask to join you on your lizard buddy as you head over there, but ha, even less chance he’s about to do that.)

One bit of optional dialogue Kieran has during this part is insisting that he could totally make quick work of those sparkling Pokémon if only they weren’t so far away. This is very true… but the fact that he never tries to do so despite actually having the ability to reach them himself tells us that his words are just desperate posturing that he doesn’t truly believe. He can’t even register the part where he genuinely has a really strong team of Pokémon that he worked hard to train, because he did all of that for the sole purpose of beating you, and since he couldn’t manage that, that means that none of it matters and he’s just useless.

Then there’s the moment near the end where Carmine tells Kieran it’s his turn to call out to you to let you know the path opened up, but Kieran miserably assumes you’d prefer to hear it from her instead. (As if who tells you that even makes any difference!) Carmine did this to try and begin bridging the gap between you, and she forces him to do it anyway despite his protest, but then when she asks if he’s got anything more to say to you, he just says no. He still doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of even interacting with you in any way at all, still convinced he must be nothing to you.

There’s a heartbreaking hypocrisy to this, too, since he knows you’re perfectly okay interacting with Carmine, and it’s not like she’s ever been able to beat you in battle either. But… but that’s different, right, because she’s already someone who’s strong and cool and worthy of your friendship. In Kieran’s head, he is the single person in the world who is so automatically, inherently worthless that he needs to prove his strength before he is allowed to Matter to you or to anybody.

Outburst at the crystal

As the group reaches the final chamber, Kieran rushes ahead into it and begins pulling at the crystal the moment he figures it even might be Terapagos, because he is so desperate not to lose this chance to anybody else (meaning you). In his urgency, completely oblivious to how messed-up this sentiment is, he blurts out that this’ll mean he can finally beat you, at which Carmine, who failed to realise this was still the reason he was doing all this until now, tries to call him out on it—

—And Kieran can’t stand that; he can’t let her try and take this away from him too on top of everything else, because this feels like the one remaining chance he’ll ever get to still have something and matter next to you. So in a kneejerk attempt to defend why he needs this, everything comes tumbling out. All of those feelings about how you have everything he’s ever wanted, and he has nothing, how he trained so so hard but even that ended up worthless because he still lost to you in the end, so this is all he has left.

(Well, it’s not quite everything that comes spilling out of Kieran here. He doesn’t say anything about why he feels he needs to beat you, and how that’ll totally magically solve everything for him – because there is no actual logic behind that part. There’s nothing he can say to make that make sense, and on some level he must be aware of that, must know it doesn’t, really. But if he admits that, admits that there really isn’t any way at all to escape from his crushing inferiority, then he’ll have nothing left whatsoever, which he cannot bear.)

Hearing Kieran’s outburst about how worthless he feels, Carmine tries to put in a good word for him about how he’s tried his best too – which is good! That’s exactly the kind of thing he needs to hear; she’s finally getting it! But unfortunately, because she herself is one of Kieran’s sore points, in regards to how you magically went and befriended her, he doesn’t properly register what she’s saying. Hearing her speak at all just triggers that thought and spurs him into venting about that, too.

His hang-ups with you befriending Carmine are interestingly reversed from how they appeared to be in Teal Mask. Back then, he seemed more low-key jealous that she might have been trying to take you, his first ever friend, away from him. But now (now that he’s convinced that you were never really his friend in the first place), it’s all twisted around into yet another sign of how perfect you are, because you managed to win over even someone as prickly and abrasive as his sister so remarkably fast. (Which, of course, has less to do with you than it has to do with the fact that Carmine’s actually a lot softer at heart than Kieran realises.)

He’s also maybe thinking about Drayton here, about the one time Drayton claimed in the cafeteria that you and he were “already tight”. That was a massive exaggeration, but no doubt Kieran filed that away as another person – someone else he finds infuriating and impossible to get along with – that you instantly won over with your magical friendship powers because of course you did. And on top of that, he’s bound to be thinking about his recent realisation that you came to Area Zero last time with your friends, plural, because of course you’d already got a bunch of friends, you’re perfect, you can do anything you want, you can be friends with anyone!

And yet – even as Kieran says this, it is objectively not true. Because you’re not friends with him right now! No amount of your amazing protagonist powers has been able to cut through his pile of issues and properly befriend him, even though you want to, because you are in fact not perfect in the slightest and have no idea what to say to get through to him and help him! But of course Kieran doesn’t realise this contradiction in what he’s saying – he's worthless, so the fact that you’re not friends with him is obviously just because you never wanted to be.

Speaking of you not being perfect, this moment here in which Kieran outright voices his jealousy and sense of inferiority compared to you is bound to be the first moment in which you, the player character, actually begin to realise that this has been his problem this whole time. (And, to be fair to your poor socially-oblivious avatar, it really wasn’t very apparent from their perspective until now! The only time Kieran ever gave any real explicit indication of his issues around you before was in Teal Mask, after the third battle when he lamented that “it’s because I’m weak” – but at the time, the player character wasn’t aware (like we the players were) that he knew they’d lied to him, so they couldn’t have known he was thinking about that. They probably just chalked his reaction down to him taking the lost battle particularly hard. The lie reveal was messy but seemed to work itself out; he was obviously upset when you caught Ogerpon but appeared to accept it well enough in the moment – then all of a sudden he showed up later being really determined to beat you for some reason??? Why.)

Another thing I love about this moment is the animation of Kieran desperately pulling at Terapagos’s crystal, the way he has to pause to catch his breath in between each huge tug, which really gets across that he is giving this every ounce of his strength. And that still isn’t enough, because it never is – he’s always too weak to be able to grasp even one thing for himself, but he is never ever going to stop trying no matter how impossible it seems.

(And I wonder if it’s going through his mind as he does this that surely this wouldn’t be nearly so hard for you. Like this is a sword-in-the-stone kind of thing, in which Terapagos would slide out smoothly like butter for someone who’s truly worthy of it, while a weakling like him is stuck hopelessly yanking on it with everything he has and just making himself look pathetic, because of course he doesn’t deserve this.)

Catching Terapagos

Except it turns out Kieran can manage to pull out the crystal after all, doing so with such force that he accidentally flings it halfway across the cavern to land between you and him. He rushes to pick it up before anyone else can, because this is his and he can’t let anyone take it from him, he can’t—

But then Terapagos wakes up, pops out of the crystal that serves as its shell… and it’s facing you. It doesn’t even see or acknowledge Kieran at all. It looks up at you adorably, like a baby imprinting on the first thing it sees, taking a few steps towards its new friend…?

(this has to be such an aching reminder of the way Ogerpon so quickly came to adore you and didn’t care about him, all compressed into one single agonising moment, ouch)

…This was not Terapagos choosing you over Kieran in any meaningful way. Kieran was behind it, such that it literally couldn’t see him and didn’t even know he existed. All it was doing was latching onto the first person it saw, which was you, because – completely by chance – it happened to wake up facing you and not him. If it’d woken up facing Kieran, it’d have seen and approached him in exactly the same way. Terapagos’s dormant crystal form is symmetrical; Kieran had no way to know which end was the head and which was the tail until it popped out.

This was, almost literally, a fucking coin flip. Only the coin was a magical crystal turtle and the winner was whoever “heads” landed facing towards.

(But then, luck has always chosen you over Kieran, too, hasn’t it?)

And so, seeing this happen to him yet again, seeing his one last chance of maybe finally having something and mattering about to be casually snatched away by you, like always, because the universe always gives you everything he wants… Kieran makes an awful, desperate split-second decision and throws the Master Ball. Because of course he does. It’s not right; it’s not fair on Terapagos – but it is so achingly understandable why Kieran would be driven to do this in this moment. The whole thing was so cruelly, rudely unfortunate. This poor kid just wants so badly to have something, to have anything at all where he’s not immediately overshadowed and upstaged by you.

(Also, shout-outs to the narrative cleverness of quietly establishing that BB Champions get given Master Balls, by the game giving you one when you beat Kieran, such that you think nothing of it at the time but can realise right away in this moment where Kieran got his from.)

Still, it’s notable how quickly Kieran was able to pull out the Master Ball, which suggests he’d had it ready near the top of his bag. It must have crossed his mind on the way here that surely, you’re going to somehow magically sway Terapagos to join you – or that it’ll just shun him, because earning a legendary’s respect involves proving one’s strength, and he’s still so weak – such that he felt he might need a way to guarantee it would become his, no matter what.

But even then, I do want to believe that Kieran wouldn’t necessarily have used the Master Ball if he hadn’t felt like he had no other option, and that he wanted to at least try to get Terapagos to join him willingly, like trainers are supposed to do. If he’d won the turtle-coin flip and it had woken up facing him, maybe he’d have been able to do so! But of course he didn’t get to have that.

(It’s kind of a shame that the characters never discuss the dodginess of catching a Pokémon from behind in a Master Ball, how that gave poor Terapagos no choice in the matter like Pokémon are supposed to have when they join a trainer. But then, pointing out that Master Balls are inherently ethically dubious gets awkward considering that the player can freely use them on anything they like, so the game was probably never going to go there. You are too silent-protagonist and Briar is too irresponsible-adult to comment on it, but maybe Carmine could at least have had a brief line questioning this? But, well, at least she does express apprehension about going in to battle with a legendary Pokémon they know almost nothing about, which is also a very valid concern, considering what ends up happening.)

Trying to beat you with Terapagos

So of course, the very next thing Kieran does is challenge you to battle him with Terapagos, so that he can finally beat you. Only… he doesn’t show anywhere near as much of that furious, fervent determination that he had for the Champion match. All that fire of his got snuffed out the moment he lost back then, and it never really came back. This isn’t the battle he’s been psyching himself up for and dedicating everything towards for months; it’s nothing but a desperate grasp at not falling apart completely. He’s kind of just… going through the motions, trying to beat you simply because it’s what he’s been clinging to all this time, and he still doesn’t know what else to do with himself if not this.

And more than anything, Kieran has to know deep down that he doesn’t truly deserve this, not after the way in which he caught Terapagos. After all, trainers are supposed to earn having strong Pokémon in their team, either by training them up from a low level themselves, or by proving their strength to a high-level Pokémon by weakening and catching it in battle. (This is why high-levelled traded Pokémon will disobey you if you don’t have enough badges – you haven’t given them a reason to respect you!) Catching a legendary from behind with a Master Ball is none of those things. Kieran has to be perfectly aware that he has not earned Terapagos’s strength in any way (just like he knew all along he’d never really be able to).

A very revealing line on this matter is that if you say you’re not ready to battle him yet, Kieran tells you, “You’d better not run away from this”. He never once implied you might run away from the Champion battle – that’d be like admitting you couldn’t win, and you’d never do that. But here, it's different, because Terapagos isn’t his strength, so even if he could beat you with it, it wouldn’t really prove anything about him. You’d be well within your rights to just refuse to indulge Kieran in this at all, and on some level, he knows that.

(…With all that said, Terapagos does obey his commands in the battle anyway. It’s sadly difficult to attribute any definitive emotions to it because it’s pretty unexpressive, but perhaps we can imagine that Terapagos is kind of just lost and confused, going along with the orders of the one who threw its ball because it’s not really sure what’s happening and battling is kind of instinctual for all Pokémon. Maybe it’s even more instinctual for Terapagos, thanks to its ability that automatically shifts it into a battle form when there’s an opponent in front of it. It doesn’t really help matters that you just sent something out to battle it without questioning things, either.)

If you manage to hit Terapagos super-effectively during the battle, Kieran scoffs that “it has a weakness? I thought this was the hidden treasure of Area Zero?!” What do you mean his super-special legendary that would let him finally definitely win this time isn’t invincible, that it’s still functionally just a regular Pokémon and it’s still possible – and not even that hard, really – for you to beat him even now.

And if you land a critical hit, oh boy: “How can you get critical hits, even at a time like this… What are you, the hero of this story?” Kieran is clearly raw with bitterness about the turtle-coin flip, about luck choosing you because you’re just so heroic, even when this was finally supposed to be his moment really seriously for real this time. It’s reminiscent of another time he compared you to a hero when you critted him, in his fourth Teal Mask battle – but back then, he said you were like the hero in “a story”, whereas here, you’re the hero of “this story”. Kieran’s realising on some level that if this were a story, you would be the hero of it, you’d deserve to win, and… wouldn’t he be the villain? Because heroes certainly do not go around throwing Master Balls at legendaries from behind.

(For the record, though? Kieran is not a villain. Stop calling him a villain, people. Not a single thing he does is outright villainous; catching Terapagos in this way is wrong, yes, but it’s an act of desperation for which his entire end goal is literally just to win a dang Pokémon battle against you. He’s barely even that much of an antagonist, if we get into that – this isn’t really a you-versus-him conflict so much as a him-versus-himself conflict that you happen to be inextricably wrapped up in.)

Kieran isn’t even that crushed when he loses this battle, just… lost and confused. He insists that “I thought if I had Terapagos, it would make me stronger,” as if catching it in a Master Ball would change anything about his strength – but really, he has to have known that wouldn’t truly be the case. And when Briar remarks that Terapagos isn’t as strong as it should be, Kieran just miserably assumes, “so it isn’t the hidden treasure?” Like, of course this was too good to be true, of course whatever Pokémon he actually managed to get his hands on was just some dud and not the real deal, because he’s never deserved to have anything worthwhile. His expression’s upset, and pleading, as says this was meant to let him beat you, still like that’d somehow fix everything, but his desperation’s become something pitiful compared to how furious it was before. He just doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know how else to cope with his crushing sense of inferiority if he can’t hold onto this.

Terapagos goes berserk

The only reason Kieran even Terastallises Terapagos is pretty much because Briar tells him to, and he’s at a loss for what else to do. It’s very possible that if an actual responsible adult had been here to talk him down – or, heck, even just let Carmine talk to him, since she was trying to do so again – then he’d have finally been in a state to listen and none of the ensuing disaster would have needed to happen. But Briar’s gotta see her giant sparkle turtle, because it turns out that basically her entire character exists to facilitate Kieran’s character arc having the most dramatic climax possible, and I for one am 1000% okay with that.

Kieran looks apprehensive and afraid even as he’s just beginning to Terastallise it (no emotionless mask to cover the wince this time), perhaps because he can feel that the power from his Tera Orb is way more than it usually is and isn’t sure this is a good idea. But what else can he do? He has nothing else left – so he throws the orb anyway.

Again, Terapagos is frustratingly unexpressive, such that it’s difficult to get a sense of whether it attacking Kieran once it Terastallises is an instinctive, unconscious defence mechanism, or something more deliberate. But it’s certainly more fun to imagine it’s deliberate – that this is Terapagos lashing out from anger and fear now that it’s been given a terrifying amount of power it can’t fully handle and begins to realise, wait, no, it didn’t want this. That makes this problem distinctly more Kieran’s fault, which is a good thing for his arc. (If Terapagos’s rampage wasn’t based in its emotions in any way, then this kind of wouldn’t be Kieran’s fault at all, not really! It was significantly more on Briar that he Terastallised it, after all. Kieran’s real mistake was catching it without its consent – so it’s more narratively satisfying for this to be, in part, him facing the consequences for that.)

Either way, the important part is that Kieran is bound to feel like this is Terapagos lashing out at him because he shouldn’t have caught it. He always knew deep down that that was wrong, and now here’s the proof, because of course a strong and special legendary like that would never truly acknowledge him. And now it’s so mad at him for trying to act otherwise that it tries to kill him. (This poor kid is already clearly very sensitive to rejection in general, but, ouch, that has to have been like a stab in the gut.) This is all his fault for daring to think he deserved to have any kind of strength at all.

But then you save his life, by sending out your lizardbike friend to shield him! Which on the one hand just makes you even more of a perfect hero – but this time, your heroism is a good thing for Kieran. And, more than that… you wanted to save him. You saw him as someone worth protecting? You, actually, care about him??? (Kieran has been convinced that he’s nothing to you pretty much ever since you lied to him back in Teal Mask, but, oh, hey, maybe not…?)

Not that he has much time to process that in the heat of the moment; he’s too busy freaking out over everything such that Carmine has to be the one to tell him he should recall Terapagos. Maybe on some level he just feels like Terapagos would never listen to him if he tried, because it literally just attempted to kill him – and indeed, it fights back and breaks the Master Ball rather than go back to being his Pokémon (there’s another painful sting of rejection). Of course Kieran should never have caught it or called himself its trainer. He reflexively asks “why?” it wouldn’t come back, but he knows why. It’s because he’s worthless and deserves nothing, and he should never have tried to pretend otherwise.

Facing the gaping pit

At the start of the final battle, Kieran’s just frozen in terror at what he’s accidentally unleashed, not to mention the recent shock of nearly being killed and the knowledge that this is all his fault. (Even though, it isn’t all his fault! Briar deserves at least half the blame for this! But that doesn’t remotely occur to Kieran in the moment, because he is intrinsically the most worthless person ever, so of course all the blame should be on him.) But after a little while, the immediate terror fades, and Kieran’s left with nothing but the overwhelming feeling that he’s useless, that he can’t help anyone. It’s that vast aching pit of inferiority that’s always been there inside him, finally right at the surface.

There’s nothing he can do to run away from it any more. Ogerpon didn’t want him and chose you instead. All of his efforts to make himself stronger meant nothing in the end because he still lost to you. He never should have tried to catch Terapagos, because it never wanted him either and all he’s done is put himself and everyone else in danger. There’s just no way out.

Which means that, for the first time ever, Kieran has no choice but to finally, actually face up to and confront his terrifyingly huge inferiority complex, and begin to fight against it in a genuinely healthy way.

Maybe he wouldn’t have even tried at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that he needed to help with this battle! Shout-outs to the narrative for creating a situation in which Kieran has to help after Carmine’s one remaining Pokémon goes down, because he might otherwise never have done so.

(I love that one of the things the battle camera can do while you’re idling here is cut to Kieran and linger a moment with him, with the look of either frozen terror or miserable inferiority on his face. Even though he’s technically just a background character right now for the mechanical purposes of the battle, this moment is about him, and the devs knew it.)

And of course it takes Kieran a really long time, most of the battle, to actually find the courage to fight back! His inferiority complex is so massive, so all-encompassing, the root cause of all of the desperate, self-destructive, obsessive things he’s done to try and escape it, that of course it’s so, so terrifyingly difficult for him to actually face up to it and find the strength to try and believe that… maybe it’s just wrong.

Crucially, the single thing that does the most to trigger Kieran’s shift into courage is you – you, calling out to him, asking for his help. Hearing that you actually value his strength and need his help is exactly the kind of acknowledgement that Kieran has always desperately craved from you all along. It’s just what he needs to help him believe that, just maybe, he might actually be kinda strong and worth something after all.

But even then! Even with that, his inferiority complex does not magically vanish, because of course it doesn’t work that way! All your words do is give Kieran the courage to fight it, by holding onto the fact that you believe in him and he’s not alone. His animations here are so good; there’s tears in his eyes even as he manages to snap himself into determination, because he is still so scared and just finally being really, really brave about it!

One really lovely subtlety is that the highlight in his eyes, that little visual detail that makes a character really look alive, which was completely not there in Kieran for the entirety of Indigo Disk up until now, finally comes back in the exact moment when he finds the courage to fight. And it's neat how the game manages to re-use the same screaming animation Kieran had for the beginning of the Champion fight, with the only minor differences being the tears and that highlight in his eyes, but in this new context it communicates an entirely different kind of emotion. It’s like he’s fervently psyching himself up into believing that he is capable of doing this.

And hey, Kieran’s contribution to the battle really is pretty helpful! It’s a genuinely tough fight to the point that, no matter your level, there’s a good chance you were struggling on your own for a while, so you’re probably glad he’s here to help even just in a mechanical sense. His Hydrapple’s Supersweet Syrup ability can be useful to you as well as him, and then if it goes down, he switches to Dragonite and – because of the evasiveness drop – begins spamming near-accurate Thunders on a Terapagos who is Water-type for this final phase. Look at him go! (And another thing Hydrapple can do to support you is use Dragon Cheer, which delights me, because it’s Kieran deciding that actually he’s okay with you getting all the critical hits after all. Aww.)

Once Terapagos is defeated, if you try to not catch it, Kieran will tell you that you need to do it, that “it has to be you, not me!” It’s so lovely that there’s not a hint of bitterness to him here as he says this, just perfectly comfortably accepting it, because he never really wanted Terapagos anyway and he knows it’ll be happier with you, and that’s all that matters. Even if you don’t get that line, his encouragement of you as you go for a Pokéball is more than enough to communicate the fact that he’s okay with you doing this. And Kieran’s smiling again, cheering you on with that same animation of his from back in Teal Mask when he was super excited to watch you battle his sister! This is the excitable, battle-loving kid he always was and finally is once more! His smile is even more adorable now without his hair obscuring half of it, too.

Letting it go

In the end, Kieran’s finally able to let things go thanks to multiple factors brought about by what happened in Area Zero. There’s the part where he spent the adventure being just a little bit closer to his normal self, letting him realise that he misses being like that and that maybe there was nothing inherently bad or weak about those parts of him at all. There’s the way that Terapagos going berserk served as a very stark representation of how his obsession with strength only ends up hurting himself and everyone around him, which must have helped him see that his behaviour leading up to this was doing the same kind of thing and he can’t go back to that.

And, perhaps most importantly, you acknowledged his strength by calling out for him to help you against Terapagos, which is what Kieran really needed the most all along. By joining you in the battle, he’s finally begun to face his inferiority complex, to shoot down the conviction in his mind that he’s useless and weak and can’t do anything, and prove to himself that he’s capable of confronting scary things after all, even including his own mistakes.

I do have another small writing nitpick about his dialogue in the post-battle scene, in that I don’t quite agree with his progression from “I just don’t have it in me to be like you” straight to “finally I can let it go”. Kieran was always aware of the former, deep down, but knowing that never did anything but make him latch desperately onto trying to prove that wrong no matter how impossible it felt. Meanwhile, the latter implies that he’s always consciously wanted to let it go and just somehow couldn’t despite that, which isn’t quite it either.

Instead, I think it’d work if he first went from how he can’t ever be like you into “I guess I have to just let it go”, and then from there into “Yeah… finally I can let it go”. Feeling like he simply has no choice but to let go at first, and only from there would he reflect and realise that actually, he can now, and maybe a part of him had always kind of wanted to after all.

Delightfully, as Kieran begrudgingly accepts that he can’t ever be like you, you finally get a dialogue option that lets you tell him that he’s strong and cool and worth something as he is!!! It seems like it really did take you hearing his inferiority complex directly from him in order for you to realise that this was something he needed to hear. He reflexively tries to downplay your compliment, like he didn’t really do anything impressive at all just now, because he still instinctively feels that way about himself – again, his inferiority complex has not just magically vanished, because it doesn’t work like that! – but hearing otherwise from you of all people has to be an immense help for him in fighting against it.

And it’s this that sets Kieran off crying, from that overwhelmingly positive emotion that you think he’s really cool, aww. This seems to break something of an emotional dam for him, letting him just have a good long cry about all of it, which, yes, he has so many emotions he’s needed to let out for so long now and it is good and healthy that he’s finally able to do so! (I wish this part was better animated, alas – but believe me, I am imagining him having such a big long cathartic cry even if the game isn’t managing to adequately show it.)

Then there’s the final scene! It’s so brave of Kieran to have resolved to apologise and make amends for everything he did wrong. That is scary as hell and comes with a huge risk of massive painful criticism and rejection, but he’s doing it anyway because he wants to do the right thing. He is such a good kid at heart despite his massive issues having driven him into several big mistakes.

Now that Kieran’s returned to something resembling his old self, his anxious body language from before is back – he’s barely making eye contact with you as he speaks, his head low, instinctively trying to hide his face behind the one bit of hair he still has hanging down. But nonetheless, you can tell that he’s making an effort to fight that and push himself to be just a little bit more assertive than he was able to be before all this. As he asks if you two can be friends again, he’s grimacing, already braced for rejection, hesitating then blurting out all of it in one big go before he changes his mind – there’s still a very significant part of him convinced that you’d just never want that and he doesn’t even have the right to ask. But at least he’s now able to realise that said part is probably wrong and find the courage to ask anyway! Because he wants this, and he deserves to at least try and grasp good things for himself!

And of course you still want to be his friend, because you basically always were anyway from your perspective, and Kieran is so adorably happy to have this second chance, and I am so delighted that the two of you are able to be friends again like you always should have been all along, aaaa. I could not be more proud of my boy.

(Well, I could go into a lot more detail about just how proud of and happy I am for Kieran thanks to all of his scenes in the epilogue and postgame. But that’s enough of its own separate Thing that it ought to get its own post! So hold on for that; I’m not quite done having So Many Feelings about this boy just yet. Aaand here it is!)

#pokemon #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet and violet #the indigo disk #the hidden treasure of area zero #pokemon kieran #kieran pokemon #trainer kieran #rival kieran #champion kieran #character analysis #ramble #my buttons #friends

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lyrical-fanfics · 9 months

Text

Broody Brothers (Obey Me! Brothers imagine) Gender Neutral

A curse is activated from a children’s book about a family wanting a child, causing the brothers to feel the same yearning that the partners did.

The brothers think that the curse didn’t affect them that badly, Immense broodiness ensues

Lucifer

He’s already got his hands full with his brothers, so any sort of outward expression of desire for a child is usually one of disapproval, especially when asked about the curse and if it was affecting him at all.

Although, being the avatar of pride, seeing a child that looks like an almost equal split of his and your features does something, and he can’t help but begin longing for a reflection of himself mixed with you.

He’d try and be responsible, show that he’s above his brother’s level of broodiness, but the moment you show even the slightest interest, he’s thinking about how to make it happen.

He’s planning out the schematics in his head, where would the child’s nursery be, how would he balance RAD and his work with a child,

As he planned more and more, he became broodier and broodier, often becoming slightly more touchy, but he usually has an excuse for every single touch, or heavily resisting the urges he has.

He’s got way better control over it than his brothers, who fall like flies, but it breaks down when he begins “protecting” you from his brother’s urges alone in his room.

If you agree, he leads you in with ease and grace, and he seems to be fully in control of himself until that door latches shut.

He succumbs to the overprotective broodiness and begins monopolizing your attention by cuddling you, asking you if you want children, how many you want, and he’ll give it to you all. He'll hold you close, telling you how perfect it will be, and how hard he’ll work to make it perfect. He’ll protect you as well, along with his children

He tells you how he’ll make it work, how he’ll take care of everything, and asks how you feel about it as well with a flushed face and bedroom eyes.

Solomon finally breaks the curse by making a child carving out of a peach pit, Although Lucifer is still open to the idea of starting a family with you after everything you two have discussed.

Mammon

He’s not only thought about it, he knows how many he wants, what their names will be, what their nicknames are, how if a little one happens to look exactly like you, he’ll spoil them until they’re rotten

When the curse takes effect, he’s a bit nervous about how it’s going to affect him

Of course, he’s gonna deny every single little desire, citing that “he doesn’t need a snot-nosed brat moochin’ off his bank account”

In fact, he’s gonna go out and shop for a bit to prove how much he doesn’t need a kid on his (already dwindling) bank account!

But when he sees a child that looks like a pretty good split of you and him, the curse takes effect, and he becomes overwhelmed by the thoughts of family

Suddenly it’s fantasies about “HIS spouse” or “HIS kids” and “HIS Family”, he wanted it all, something that his brothers didn’t have.

“Maybe just one would be good... maybe...” He’s lying, he wants more than one.

He's become so obsessed with the idea that his shopping trip became one for all sorts of family memorabilia, from onesies to cribs, he’s planning all sorts of things

He's even gone as far as looking at homes and apartments that would be good for starting families. Anything for those kids. Anything for his spouse and children.

When he gets home, he’s quick to find you and become extra protective.

“Hey! Don't touch them!” “quit being so rough with them!” “Be careful when going down the stairs!” “actually just take the elevator!” “you know what? Let me just carry you!”

He becomes so bad that he begins monopolizing every minute of your time, keeping a hand on you during all hours. He even proposes that you spend the night in his room. If you agree, he carries everything you would need for a few nights in his room.

It’s then that he reveals how he wants to start a family with you, admitting his feelings through red cheeks and desperate glances at the ground, he wants to have a family with you, and he wants it very soon.

It’s not until Solomon carves a child out of a melon and breaks the curse does he finally come back to his senses, where he tries and denies everything once again, but he has promised that one day he’d give you any sort of family you desire.

Leviathan

In the beginning, he felt like he’d be way more jealous of his own child than he should be, so he thought he’d be immune from the effects of the curse.

“Children also don’t understand the value of all my collectibles! Can you imagine a kid getting ahold of my collection?! Dah! The thought sent chills down my spine!”

And then he saw a loving couple in an anime of his. The bond they shared while caring for the child, how happy the dad was with his partner and child, how the dad described how he loved the person that he and his partner created

Could that be us? Could that even be slightly like us?

Next thing he knew he was looking up experiences that other otakus have with children, and he discovered how cute they can be, and how they can share moments of them experiencing their favorite animes for the first time, beating that boss for the first time, listening to that one song for the first time

He had to have one, it wasn’t fair! He wanted one so bad.

He begins sequestering himself away because he doesn’t want to admit that he has these feelings, and felt like there was no way in the world that you’d even humor him

But if you go and check on him, he’s immediately red as he looks at you with his mind hazy from the idea of starting a family with you. He’s begging for your attention, despite his “weird thoughts”

He wants to start a family with you so bad, it’s not fair, he wants a child so bad that it’s not fair, it’s not fair how other people can have happy families of their own and he doesn’t,

“You’ll provide one right? We can make one right?”

He’ll beg for you to hold him while comforting him through this jealousy attack, as he’d be too embarrassed at first to even suggest trying to make a child, but he’d look at you lustfully all night while he accepts the affection he begged for.

It’s not until Solomon makes a child out of flowers that he finally calms down as the curse is broken. He immediately apologizes about everything, but he’s now more open to the idea of starting a family with you

Satan

Satan, much like his elder brothers, is rather opposed to the idea of a child.

If anything, cats would be his children just fine (Damn Lucifer for banning him from having cats)

But it would have been quite a surprise to see a child out in a cat onesie that had similar facial features to you and blonde hair. That lit a fire in him as his imagination ran wild.

Realistically, he knew that was just a fluke, but that didn’t stop him from secretly reading books on parenting, the experiences of parenting, and how certain people feel as if their life is enhanced by the people they brought into the world.

Maybe it was because the circumstances of his own birth were so strained that he never got to have a childhood, but the idea of giving a perfect childhood to another sparked something in him. The idea of watching you gently cradle a child that was created by both you and him healed something in him

Oh, this was bad. This was horrible.

He starts monitoring your diet a bit closer, keeping an eye on your day-to-day activities, and if you’re AFAB he’s paying attention to your schedule.

Eventually, he’s so engrossed about books about parenting that he’s reading nothing but them, and also paying attention to names he’d love to give to a child.

If you check on him in his room, he’ll start asking about what your wishes for the future are, how many you’d want, and he’d begin planning out all of it. It won’t be long however until he holds you close and begins begging for a child of your own

He’s done all the research, he’ll make it the easiest time for you, and he’s already started to research name ideas for the child. He wants to be happy with you and the potential children, and he’ll protect you and his family.

It isn’t until Solomon carves a child out of bamboo does he calm down enough to have a clear head. Afterward, though he states that if you ever want to start a family, he’ll be ready.

Asmodeus

He’s the first of the brothers to actually want a child, but he’s expressed that plenty in the past.

He’s in love with you, he’s in love with himself, he’d be in love with the child you two produce.

A child of his and yours would be the most unstoppable, lovable creature to ever exist. Part of him of course recognizes that there’s a chance for that child to get more attention than him, but oh did he love the idea of getting closer to you through the process of making the child.

He thinks that anything that the curse won’t affect him too much because he’s already ready to accept that he wants a kid. As a result, he’s got shopping that he wants to get done, and heads out.

However, the minute he sees a kid that somewhat resembles the both of you while he’s out, it’s over. The curse takes hold of him and he becomes absolutely obsessed with nothing but the idea of having a child with you.

He’s sending you pictures of nurseries and playrooms for potential kids, He’s taking pictures of baby clothes and shopping for the most fashionable strollers. He’s sending you MASSIVE lists of names that would be perfect for your child, including ones he’s hearing while he’s out.

When he returns, he’s upset that you aren’t at the door to greet him, nor are there little Asmo’s running around to greet him either. He’s quick to remedy that by opening his phone and beginning to furiously text away.

He eventually begs for your attention, expecting you to come to his room and talk with him about something important, and he needs you there now

If you go and check on him in his room, he’s extremely broody and he immediately takes the chance to grab ahold of you and bring you down onto his bed.

He immediately talks about sweet nothings, how you two should start a family, how creating something so beautiful is your responsibility, how if you raise such a child the world would be a better place, and the creation has to be fun as well, right? (if you are AMAB, he’s already asked Solomon how to combine pieces of both of you to create such a child)

It takes Solomon carving a child out of ice to cool Asmo off enough to clear his head. After Asmo had cooled off, he eventually goes back to how he was before, but he still agrees that if you ever want it, he’s happy to create a child with you.

Beelzebub

He’d be chill with the idea of a kid, and he originally liked the idea of a kid because then he can use it to get exclusive kids' meals that he can’t order.

He was a little worried when the curse took effect, not knowing how he would act, but maybe if he really tried hard, it wouldn’t affect him too badly.

However, it only takes a video where a chef creates all sorts of smaller versions of his own dishes for his kid that sparks something in him.

He at first treats it as hunger, so he raids the House of Lamentation’s fridge of all there is, but naturally he feels a little less hungry, but the feeling he had earlier only gets stronger as he begins to think about you. What would a kid between the two of you look like? What sorts of food would they enjoy? Would they also eat anything like him? Would one of them be sleepy like Belphie? He needed to know.

He informs you of his intense desire to eat, and if you decide to cook for him, he’ll meet you there.

Domestic life fills his mind as he sees you cooking, and he can’t help but hug you from behind. This would be normal if he didn’t also gently kiss your neck as well. if you ask what’s up, he out of the blue asks your opinion on kids. How many do you want? Do you want boys or girls? What names would they have? Do you think they’ll have his appetite?

He expresses his desire for a whole family of kids, a minimum of 4, as he didn’t want any of them to be lonely, he grew up a twin, so he can’t imagine anything but having a large family.

It’s clear the curse has taken full effect, as he grips you closer to him, telling you more and more about his plan for a large family with you, how he’ll play with his children until they’re all tired at the end of the night, how they’ll have big meals together, how each night he promised to pamper you still

He refuses to let go of you, and any attempt at his brothers approaching is met with incredible strength, until he finally sequesters the both of you in his room.

It's not until Solomon carves a child out of a cucumber that he finally calms down enough to let you go, but he assures you that all the desires for a family were real, but he could wait a bit longer until you were ready.

Belphegor

Oh, he hated the idea of a child, mainly because he likes his sleep. Kids are way too noisy. Also, if you have a baby, you can’t be the baby. They’ll just tire him out even more, he’d just rather it be him and you.

However, as the curse begins to take effect, he begins having dreams where you’re a happy family with a child that peacefully rests in your arms, with hair like his but features like yours. He dreams of cuddling both you and the child, and how the child grabs ahold of his jacket and peacefully sleeps while sandwiched between the two of you

When he awakens, he’s disgusted with his own dreams, but he also feels like something is missing. He looks at his arms where his dream child made of clouds once was, and began missing that feeling in his arms.

If you stumble upon him in his nap spot, he pretends to be asleep until you get close enough for him to grab you, pulling you into his nap, laughing and giggling the whole time as he kisses your face. It’s somewhat of a relief that the curse is supposedly not affecting him as much.

But he’s full broody, he’s still bothered by that space in between you two, how empty it feels. He could pull you closer and closer but it still feels empty.

He asks out of the blue if you love him, and you of course confirm you do, and he tells you about this emptiness he feels. He increasingly wants you and you alone to himself, and he wants the company of only one other, one that is you, but not you, but is also him.

When he compares his feelings back to his dreams, he realized the yearning he was feeling was that of a child between you two. He began holding you even tighter, all in vain to fill that void

He realizes that the only way to potentially fill this void was maybe to try for one, which he proposes to you. He doesn’t care where you both are, but he also doesn’t like the idea of his brothers being near you either right now. He wants to make sure that you’re safe, and that it’ll be just you three. If you agree to be squared away in his room with him, he’ll kiss and cuddle you as he asks you what you’d name the child, what they’d look like,

It's not until Solomon creates a child out of cabbage that Belphegor finally calms down, saying once again that he doesn’t want children, but he wouldn’t be opposed in the future if you really want them.

#obey me #obey me imagines #GN! Obey me imagines #obey me x reader #gn!reader #obey me lucifer imagine #obey me mammon imagine #obey me leviathan imagine #obey me satan imagine #obey me Asmodeus imagine #obey me beelzebub imagine #obey me Belphegor imagine #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

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sturniozo · 4 months

Text

Savage Love Part Three

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

A/N: Smut ahead! Don’t like, don’t read!

masterlist

I stand outside the hotel waiting for Matt. Emma had dressed me in a short, tight pink dress with lingerie underneath. She had also styled my hair and makeup to what she claims always works for her.

At 7 on the dot a car pulled up and Matt stepped out. He holds his hand out to me and says “Hey dollface.”

I happily take his hand and wrap my arm around his and we walk to the front desk. The woman gives Matt the keycard and he takes me upstairs to the room. The room is nice and has a beautiful view, which makes it a shame to be wasted on me and my hookup when some lovely couple could be using it.

“Something wrong?” Matt asks as he locks the door. He walks up and hugs me from behind, beginning to kiss my neck.

“No, nothings wrong.” I reply and move my hair out of the way so he has better access to my neck. His hands creep up my body and he squeezes my breasts.

“Such a pretty dress, did you get dressed just for me?” He mumbles as he unzips the back of my dress.

I nod and Matt slides my dress off my body. I step out of it and look up at him, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. I turn around fully and begin to undo his belt. I pull it through the loops of his pants and discard it on the floor. I look up at Matt and Ian immediately met with his lips on mine. Our tongues fight for dominance for only a moment before I give into him, and he chuckles into the kiss.

Matt pushes me on the bed and trails kisses down my body. He hooks his fingers through the panties of my lingerie and pulls them down. “So pretty for me.” He mumbles. His head dips down between my legs and I feel him lick a stride up my core and I shiver. He lifts his head back up and looks at me.

“Have you done this before?” He asks me.

“Hooked up?”

“Had sex at all.” He says. “You’re acting like… like you’ve never done any of this before.”

“It’s been a while but… no I’m not a virgin.” I laugh softly.

“Have you hooked up?” He asks while massaging my thighs.

“Not much.” I lie.

“Hm” he mumbles and dips back down between my legs, licking another stride through my folds. His tongue slides up and down before going back up and stopping at my clit. His begins sucking on my sensitive clit and uses the pad of his tongue to put pressure on it. I moan softly and run my fingers through his hair. Matt pushes two fingers into me and slowly pumps them in and out of me. I moan louder and tug lightly on his hair.

“M-Matt please, oh god! Please-“ I beg.

“Use your words doll face.” He tells me before going back down.

“Please Matt I need you to fuck me!” I moan out as the pit in my stomach gets tighter and tighter with each pump of his fingers.

With one final flick of Matt’s tongue on my clit I come undone, shaking and moaning as the pumping slows down.

“Such a good girl for me.” Matt says as he hovers over me. He kisses me deeply and I can taste myself on his tongue. I moan into the kiss. Matt pulls away and undoes my bra. He throws is away and his lips immediately latch to my nipple. His hand moves up my body to squeeze my other breast while he uses his other hand to begin fingering me again.

“Matt!” I moan out loudly from all the sensations. After a moment he switches to suck on my other tit. My fingers run through is hair.

Matt lifts his head up and kisses me again while his fingers continue to pump in and out of me. He spreads my legs apart more to have better access to my pussy as our tongues dance together. He pushes his fingers in and out of me harshly and fast while rubbing my clit with his thumb. I begin to feel the familiar bind in my stomach as I moan loudly. I come undone once again underneath Matt and he pulls his fingers out of me. He smirks as he sucks on his fingers, tasting my juices.

Matt pulls down his dress pants and I unbutton his shirt, connecting our lips feverishly. I finish with the buttons and place my hands on his face, pulling him closer. He discards the shirt, leaving him in his tight boxers, his bulge evident.

I place the palm of my hand over the bulge and massage his boner. Matt groans and grabs my wrist, pinning me down harshly.

He uses his other hand to help slip out of his boxers. He lets go of my wrists and props up my legs to wrap around his waist while he positions himself in me. He slides in and I let out a loud moan while he groans and droops his head down.

“You’re so tight for me doll face. Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Matt asks again and I just nod.

“Just move, please.” I beg and Matt immediately begins thrusting in and out of me at a slow pace. I moan loudly and grip his shoulders while he pants. He slowly picks up the pace until he’s pounding into me harshly and I’m moaning loudly, gripping his shoulders hard enough for my nails to leave marks.

Matt pulls out and grabs my waist, pulling me up and flipping me over so I’m on my hands and knees. He leans over me and kisses my back, down to my ass where he begins licking my core again. I moan and say “Matt please, fuck me. I need it.”

“Anything for you, dollface.” He says and gets back up, pushing into me slowly. He lets me adjust for a second before he pounds relentlessly into me. I feel weak underneath him and my arms give in, leaving me face down and ass up as Matt’s hands are on my hips. His hand reaches down to my clit rubs me just right, causing the pit in my stomach to grow for the third time.

Matt groans loudly and his pace becomes sloppy, so I know he’s close. With just a few more thrusts we both come undone together, and I collapse on the bed. Matt lays down next to me and pulls me in close to him.

“Mmm so good for me dollface.” He mumbles into my shoulder. He gives me a quick kiss on the shoulder as he slips into me once again.

“Matt I can’t I-“

“Shhhh” he shushes me. “We’re not doing anything right now, just cuddling. Go to sleep dollface.” He pets my hair and positions himself in me better so we’re both comfortably. “Just go to sleep with my cock in you like a good little slut for me, huh? You’re a good slut aren’t you dollface? Say it for me.”

“I-I’m a good slut.”

“Good girl.” Matt mumbles and I close my eyes. “Now go to sleep for me.”

I wake up with the sun shining through the window of the hotel room. Matt holds me tightly and I hear his soft breaths in my ear, and my breath hitches as I feel him twitch inside me.

The clock on the wall reads 6am. I have to be at the paper outlet by 10am. I try to slowly move away from Matt without waking him up, but I fail. Matt reaches for me and pulls me back.

“Don’t leave dollface.” He says to me. His morning voice is enough to make me drenched again.

“I have to be at work in a few hours.” I tell him.

“Call off.” He mumbles. Matt pulls me to lay my head on his chest.

“I can’t do that. I’m one mistake away from being fired.” I say as I begin to trace a tattoo on Matt’s arm.

“Good. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be working. You should be doing something you like doing.”

“My job is something I like.”

“Hm.” Matt hums. We lay in silence for a bit before I begin to get up again. “What did I just tell you?” He says to me.

“I can’t stay.”

“Stay.” He demands.

“Matt-“

“Stay.” He says sternly. My breath hitches and I lay back down. “Good girl.” He mumbles and kisses the top of my head.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life

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mae-gi-writes · 4 months

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everything that i'll never be | kim mingyu . seventeen

You'll never be his first and that bothers you, that she had his heart before you ever did.

genre: angst, relationship problems, insecure! reader. Mentions of self-harm.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

She's so much better than you. In so many ways.

There's no way you can compete. You're not even competition to her. Come on, it's almost as if trying to compare a Ferrari to a stupidly tiny honda that would break down whenever it had to breach the motorway.

This is how envious you are of the girl that once had your boyfriend's heart.

And you hate yourself for it, because every argument that arises is because of that sole reason; you can't stand the thought of her having him first. You can't stand the thought that Mingyu had the opportunity, all his firsts, with a girl that was someone other than you.

Which is why the words suddenly fly out of your mouth one day without warning.

"How was she like? Your ex?"

The words sound raw and painful, even coming from your mouth. You hate it. You hate yourself the most at this particular moment. Even more so when Mingyu stops in mid-action and blinks at you like you've just told him you'd committed a first-degree murder.

It's not that it's surprising. It's just that-- more so -- it's been six years. Six years already, and you still haven't gotten over it. So there is, ultimately, a problem. With you.

Mingyu lowers the knife he's been using to chop the carrots into tiny thin slices. He suggested bringing duck to your annual family dinner this Christmas, which you thought was a good idea, until you realized the amount of preparation that came along with it.

So here you are, on a beautiful 24th December night with the snow falling like soft petals along the sky line, making sure that the duck that you've put into the oven a few minutes ago isn't roasting itself to death.

"Why are you asking now?" is Mingyu's question.

You shrug half-heartedly in an attempt to show him that it isn't that much of a big deal whether he answers your question or not. Though it is, as you keep your eyes trailed on the timer on your phone, "I had a nightmare," you admit.

"About?" his eyebrow raises a fraction, body stilling to await your answer.

You struggle to find something coherent, put together, that doesn't sound so lame once you say it out loud because god forbid it is the most childish thing to think of when it's been six years of your relationship.

And yet, she's still the gap, that empty space, that lingers between the two of you like the unsaid corpse filling the room.

"About you," you pause, "and her."

Mingyu lets out a soft breath, "Y/N, we can't be having this conversation six years down the line. I love you, and I'm with you--"

"I know that." he doesn't have to talk to you like you're a child.

"Then why are you still on about her when clearly you're the one I've chosen to be with for the rest of my life?" the hurt in his voice is real and it makes your heart ache with guilt. You shouldn't have asked him anything in the first place. You know, more than anyone, that Mingyu would steal the moon for you had you asked for it. It's undoubtable, the love that he bears for you, the way his eyes find yours across the room like you're the sun that makes his earth rotate.

He continues now, pent-up frustration laced in his alto. Almost like he's about to cry, "it hurts me too, to hear you talk about her over and over again. It gets tiring after a while, Y/N. I'm tired of it, honestly."

"Alright," tears prick at your eyelids but you refuse to blink, gaze permanently latched onto the oven as you fight against the flood of emotion building in the pit of your stomach, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you anything, but--"

"it's not doing you any good either. So why do you do this to yourself? What triggered it?" he's on a roll now, not caring what you have scrambled for an answer, the need to hear your reason a priority in comparison to the millions of excuses you have stacked up against your tongue, "because this isn't about just the nightmare, is it? You've mentioned her at least once during these two weeks and I--I'm tired of it, Y/N. I don't want to keep going through that. She's a part of my past and yes, we were in love once. But I don't love her anymore. You're the one I chose to be with," he holds up the peeler and the carrot in evidence, "isn't that exactly what I'm doing right now? Why do you have to ruin this for us?"

"I--" his speech hits you like a truck. You hadn't expected Mingyu to just spit out his feelings without filter or remorse, which makes it even worse as you try to struggle and comprehend what his words mean exactly. The ache in your chest grows. For a moment, you can't breath, the soft pants stinging the back of your throat as it burns with effort of restraining tears.

You swallow thickly, harsh gulps of air that makes you shudder. Finally, you manage to whisper out a soft, "I'm sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have bought this up. You're right. I'm just--I'm just a walking time bomb and I'm pathetic--" you shake your head, the tears now spilling down your cheeks as you bite down onto your lower lip. You catch sight of Mingyu's stance faltering ever so slightly, but you move back, as if the physical distance might help you keep your broken heart in check, '--I'm really sorry, Mingyu."

You don't wait for him to answer before you're swiveling on your feet and dashing through the open doorway of your bathroom. It's not much, but it's enough physical space for you to lock the door and slide down onto the floor.

You let the sobs take over, your shoulders hunching over your knees as you start crying. Once you do, you can't stop. You can't.

Because the truth is, you're scared.

You're scared that you'll never be enough for Mingyu and that -- whatever happened in the ktichen -- is the exact proof of that. You're not her. She's --gentle and kind and just agrees to everything that Mingyu ays without putting up a fight. And they made a cute couple, and she's prettier. Prettier than you'll ever be and you wonder what Mingyu even saw in you in the first place.

And she's his first. Will always be his first. Something that you'll never be, no matter how hard you try.

You're so focused on feeling your body shatter with tears and pain and guilt from the past that you don't hear Mingyu's voice until he starts knocking against the door.

"Please," he murmurs, "can we just talk?"

"I'm fine," you blubber out, "please just leave me alone. I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt you, what I meant was--"

"I know already, Mingyu. Just stop." you sniffle and wipe your snot with the back of your hand, "I got it. It's me. I'm the problem. I'll always be the problem."

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth--"

"Just leave me alone." And as if that might help, you whisper, "please." So he does. you hear his footsteps retract after a few beats of agonizing silence, and when he does walk away, you slump back into a small puddle of broken pieces of your heart as you try to hold it all together.

But it's not a memory that you can erase with just a few beers or some good sleep. It's a stain that will last forever, and you're not quite sure how you'll deal with that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hey Y/N?"

Your head rises from the slump of your arms. You're not quite sure how long you've been in the bathroom.

Mingyu knocks. You let out a sigh, but don't say anything. Nothing feels right at the moment, no words can seem to fill the empty, now awkward space between you and Mingyu.

"Y/N, I can leave you alone if you want," he pauses, "but...do you mind if I use the bathroom? I kinda...need to pee."

Fuck. Of course. Just when you're about to lose your mind and go on an existential crisis.

You unlock the bathroom after a beat of silence, not even bothering to look up at his face as you sidestep your boyfriend and make your way to the couch. You plop down onto it, hearing the sound of the door shut close as you find your usual navy blanket. It's warm and comforting, wrapping you up in its warmth as the toilet flushes, Mingyu's coughs reaching the living room area. The scent of roasted duck fills the room and you sniff appreciatively. Despite it all, it seems that the food has survived, a proof that no matter how much humans may suffer, they could still go about and do their things right.

"Y/N."

You jump slightly, turning your head in his direction but allowing your eyes to stray along his shirt. The silence answers in your stead.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrug once more. How are you even supposed to feel?

It's a weird contortion of things that make you want to hurl the living room chair at the tv and one that makes you want to curl up in bed and cry and cry and cry.

The couch dips under Mingyu's weight once he joins you on the couch. Still, you don't look at him, rather deciding that picking on your nails is a better option.

"Y/N," he says once more, before his big hand is reaching for yours and stopping your actions with a gentle grip, "don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."

"That's the whole point," you mutter to yourself, though it's not quiet enough that he doesn't pick on it.

He squeezes your hand in response, "we talked about this before, didn't we? The nervous hand-picking."

"Can you just--" your voice raises, as if in a holler, only to die mid-way up your throat. You slump against the couch. You're tired and overwhelmed, and it shows.

The silence seems to stretch out before you, with only the slow hum of the fridge keeping you company as you keep on staring at the blank tv screen. How have you come to this? How are you fighting about someone that isn't even in the picture anymore?

Ah yes, because you decided to re-open that door and let yourself wonder, picture, your boyfriend with the likes of her when you know it's only going to induce more pain.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, or how to feel,” Mingyu starts, his voice shattering the silence like glass. “But just so that you know, every time you talk about this — about her — it hurts me too, because she’s not my present and I’m not in love with her, not anymore. You talking about it makes me uncomfortable,” he peers over at your face, “do you understand that, Y/N?” He says it gently, all his words without bite.

“Then maybe if you had just talked it through with me without avoiding my questions all the time, maybe we wouldn’t be here,” you shoot back, “maybe you like to take the easy way out a little too much.”

“I did give you the chance to talk about it. Remember that night when I told you to ask me anything about her that you wanted to know about?”

Another onset of tears builds at the back of your throat. Why is he doing this to you? What have you ever done to deserve this?

You turn away from him almost instinctively. This time, Mingyu lets you do your thing, not even bothering to try and call your name and honestly, you don’t mind. You need some space to cry it out and be with yourself for a little while.

There’s so much you want to tell him: why did he even break up with her in the first place? Why did he choose you instead? Would things have been different if you hadn’t told him of your feelings?

Would you have been happier right now, if you’d never been together?

ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s been a few days and you feel like a corpse.

Your life is a walking nightmare, your mind plagued by nothing but the pain of realizing you’re a second option to your boyfriend. You wish that he could walk in your shoes, only to get a glimpse of what’s going on inside your head. In any case, life feels dull and void of colour in contrast to the lights blazing across the streets to celebrate the new year’s coming up.

Mingyu doesn’t offer to talk it through and you take it as his way of telling you he’s not interested in your bullshit. So wrapping yourself up in your thickest blanket, you barely leave the flat on the days to come, if only for groceries. After all, you don’t see the point when your world is crumbling.

It’s on a Wednesday afternoon that Mingyu sends you a text while he’s at work. You receive it in mid-workout, frowning slightly as the message pops up on the screen.

Mingyu: do you have time this afternoon? Can we talk?

You type back your reply with a mere “yes” before resuming your squats with even more conviction. You decide that you have to brace yourself for anything that might happen, considering that you really did fuck up this time.

Will your heart be able to take it if he tells you to break it off?

All thoughts and memories of what would be your wedding, the concepts you’d conjured, the white dress that you’d fantasized over. All those things seem awash with the pain of knowing that maybe this won’t become a reality.

That hurts.

The afternoon crawls by at a snail’s pace and you spend it lumbering back and forth across the hallway as your brain tricks you into concocting all possible scenarios that might unfold; you and Mingyu breaking up is at the forefront of your mind, no matter how much you try to steer yourself away from it.

The door creaks open to signal Mingyu’s arrival. You freeze, fingers finding purchase onto your shirt as you grip its corners, panic suddenly overwhelming your senses.

He’s here, and he hasn’t greeted you yet.

You’re not sure how your heart will take it.

“Y/N?”

The scuff of his boots squeak against the silence of the corridor as he pulls them off. Small a small gesture, which holds so much meaning once you realize you might never hear it again.

You force out a reply, “yes?”

A few moments later, your boyfriend appears looking disheveled and, to your surprise, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Sorry if they’re a bit wimpy,” he says sheepishly while handing the flowers over, and you hope he hasn’t taken note of how your hands are trembling, “I was late to pick them up from the florist’s.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You looked up at him, eyelashes glimmering as your vision slowly blurred, “why?” You murmured.

“Because,” he shrugs then, a small gentle smile making its way to his face, “I know you’ve been going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken care of.”

You couldn’t help it.

You burst into tears.

And Mingyu holds on to you as you sob and soband keep on sobbing. All the pain, the fear of losing him, the thought of never being enough… all of these mesh into you and cras through your body in waves that rocks your entire ecosystem. Mingyu is there through it all, murmuring soft encouraging words as he rocks you back and forth against his chest.

The crying stops at some point, leaving you numb and tired, a slumped figure that leans against your boyfriend while he’s gently pawing away at the caked tears along your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur out, breaths shaking from emotion.

But Mingyu shakes his head, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not—okay, and I shouldn’t have acted this way,” you whisper out, “and I’m sorry if I keep pestering you about her but the truth is, I’m scared I might never be enough for you, Mingyu, because I’m not. You—You deserve everything.”

Mingyu stays silent, still brushing the tears away as you wait for his answer. He finally turns you to him, holds you close in his lap so that there’s no chance of escape even if you wanted to.

In his dark eyes tou see your reflection; a disheveled maniac looking like she’s been haunted for days.

Mingyu probably thinks so too.

“I understand,” he starts off softly, “how hard it is for you to imagine me with other people, it sucks. And it’s not great, especially when you know these people.”

Your chest aches, another pang of hurt ringing through your heart at the mention of her. You suck in a breath, but he continues:

“But I think otherwise. I think she made me realize that maybe, she’s not what I want, nor what I need,” something softens in his eyes then, hands squeezing your waist, “what I need is right here, and nowhere else, Y/N. So you can cry about not being the first, but trust me, I want to make you my last.”

Another sob racks its way up your throat. You blink furiously, hands finding purchase onto your sweater sleeves to bunch it up nervously, “do you—“ you stammer out the words, “do you mean that?”

Mingyu nods, the softest of smiles on his face, as your hands come up to wrap around his neck.

“You’re sure sure?” You peer up at him.

He chuckles, “I’m hundred percent sure.”

And proceeds to kiss your next words away as if to seal the deal, to show you that yes, you are the woman he’s been waiting for, the only one he’ll ever have to wait for.

Maybe that’s just a baby step in your world. You will have more days like this, more days of insecurity and fear and straight up panic. That’s not something that you fix overnight.

But for Mingyu, you’ll try anything to make your happy ending.

280 notes · View notes

anatay004 · 2 years

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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴛᴇ | ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

After your betrothed to Jacaerys, there’s still some enmity that lingers between you and him. But now, things are starting to dissipate as the days rush and the wedding gets closer.

warnings: Targaryen incest.

chapter 3 now up:

ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ

ᴏʀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ?

YOU COULDN'T SLEEP that night. The remnants of the previous events and the announcement of your betrothal to Jacaerys Velaryon kept you wide awake. After tossing and turning, you eventually pushed up onto your elbow and blearily blinked, looking around your chamber with utter fatigue.

"This is ridiculous," you mumbled to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. It wasn't in your nature to feel so uneasy by things like these, and yet, you couldn't help it.

The thoughts of being tethered to Jacaerys forever retaliated worry in the pit of your stomach. Despite the years, you knew he still hated your guts, your character, everything in general that made you– well, you. Somehow, you could not imagine a more detestable faith than the one you were given, although, he wasn't as bad as you once imagined him to be.

On the contrary, he was almost nice to look at.

You fumbled with your fingers at the thought of the brown strands of hair that pricked just below his ears. At the infuriating grin that curved his lips and the soft color of his eyes that curiously lit when he looked at you.

Stop that, you thought.

"Idiot," you eventually mumbled, tossing the sheets aside to climb out of bed. After a few minutes, you decided to step out of your chamber and walk down the corridors of the castle to clear your head a little. You hated feeling this way, it just wasn't like you to stay up at night with lingering thoughts.

And yet, there you were walking alone.

"Did you lose some sleep over me?"

Or so you thought.

Faltering on your spot, you felt the sudden wave of sheepishness rolling over your skin again. But you took in a deep breath and turned to face him with an unfazed demeanor. "You would love that, wouldn't you?"

"I wouldn't mind," Jace admitted, taking a few deliberate steps closer to dissipate the distance between you. Abandoning your thoughts for a minute, you stood tall to meet his height – but your head barely brushed his chin, and he chuckled at the height difference.

"What do you want?"

"I'm just enjoying my future wife's company, that's all." His lips itched at his last words, and it made you wonder if he was teasing you, in which case – it was rather annoying.

"Why did you agree to the arrangement of this marriage? Was it to get back at me?"

His eyebrows jumped. "Me? I had no saying in this, trust me. I would much rather marry your brother Aemond than share a bed with you and your hundreds of diamond necklaces."

There it was.

The thinly-veiled insinuation of you being a whore. The truth was, it never bothered you before, his words were never something that touched your heart, but that night, something shifted and it made your blood boil.

So, you clenched your jaw and made to walk away, but he was quick to latch his fingers onto your wrist to pull you back in. But this time, you could smell the citrus aroma that lingered on his neck, and up close, you could see the bits of brown that seeped into his irises so gently, and – just like that, you suddenly realized a short step would sufficed to close the distance between your lips and his.

You swallowed hard.

Subconsciously, he looked down at your lips. "I wonder, when the day of our wedding comes, how many lords will I have to kill? When they realize they can't have you anymore?"

A chill kissed down your spine, the low tone of his voice caught you off guard. It was menacing and teasing and honest all at the same time – it almost made you exhale a shaky breath. But then, you noticed the way his muscles wracked with tension when your hip accidentally pressed against his lower stomach, and something suddenly clicked in your head.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," you suddenly dropped your voice into susurrus, leveling your vision to look at him squarely in the face before warmly breathing out. "After all, I doubt you have the things I love to go after."

If looks could have killed, you would have been three feet underground in that moment. There was a fuming tick in his jaw that made you grin, but before you could fall back a step, he tightened his grip around your wrist and pulled you closer. His lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, a feather-like touch that made you freeze as he suddenly challenged. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

And then he placed a fleeting kiss on your cheek, but as if you had suddenly been an open flame, he let go quickly of your touch and spun on his heel to walk away from you.

With that, he disappeared in the shadows and left you alone in the middle of the corridor.

__________________________

Before dawn, you were wakened up by your handmaiden. After last night's announcement, you were to travel back to Dragonstone with Jacaerys and your sister Rhaenyra but not before biding your brothers a farewell.

"I can't believe you are to marry a bastard," Aegon deadpanned, but when your face fell and your arms dropped from his waist, he tightened his grip on you and lowly whispered, "Fine, I suppose I apologize for that."

"Don't, it's only the truth," Aemond soon interjected, but despite his harsh words and your uncomfortable shift, he embraced you into a warm hug. "Don't ever forget where you truly are from, dear sister, we certainly will not."

Careful not to ruin the moment, you stepped back and gave them a faint smile. "Despite your stupidity, I must admit I will miss you both."

Aemond scuffed but nodded. "As will I."

"I suppose you will send letters, will you not?"

"I will," You clarified, stifling a smile that fought to curve the corners of your lips. Despite your brothers' words and idiotic actions, it was evident they both loved you as who you were. "After all, I wasn't able to give a farewell to our father. I will most likely write within a few hours to hear from him, I feel a bit concerned."

After that, you eventually walked away to meet with your betrothed. He was waiting for you with Rhaenyra, but he was adamant in dismissing your presence for some reason. After last night, you supposed things would have softened a bit, after all – he was the one that kissed you, but you were far from right.

After the tension ensued in the atmosphere, your sister decided to finally break the silence. "It has been some time since you and I have shared the same roof over our heads, sister. I'm truly honored to have you by our side again."

"Of course," you answered, and reached for her hand, to which she gladly squeezed.

"We will fly on dragon back to Dragonstone, I suppose you know how to ride, princess?" Jacaerys questioned, but he didn't bother to spare a glance in your direction as he maneuvered his way toward his dragon.

Of course, you knew.

And he knew it.

"What makes you think I don't?" You bitterly questioned, but he didn't design to answer, and, somehow, that made you bite back your tongue lividly. You were starting to detest the way he was waving you off, it was almost indignant and irritating at the same time.

So, when Sir. Criston Cole's figure suddenly stumbled into the corner of your eye, a mischievous smile itched your lips.

Your dragon was waiting for you, his chest was pressed against the ground as he watched you make your way towards him. So, when it was time to climb onto his back, you turned towards Sir. Criston Cole with alluring eyes that made him walk towards you at once.

"Allow me, princess – "

" – Oh, that won't be necessary, Sir. Criston," Jacaerys voice suddenly pressed behind your ears, and before you could react, he placed his hands around your hips and lift you into the air without a warning. "I got my betrothed."

Throwing him a glare, you eventually came back to reality and reached the sidesaddle, but not before his fingers squeezed your hips and you almost lost your footing on the climb. After that, you threw Sir. Criston Cole an apologetic look and he gladly accepted it with a nod.

"Farewell, princess." He called you.

"Thank – "

" – we are to leave now," Jacaerys interjected.

And with that, you departed King's Landing rather annoyed.

__________________________

After the tedious journey and the previous lack of sleep, you arrived at Dragonstone with tremendous fatigue that made you apologize and dismiss yourself to your chamber. The room was nice and fit to your standards, so it took you no time to fall asleep at once.

Unfortunately, the peace that blessed your dreams was soon annihilated when the loud knocking on your door jolted you awake. You cursed under your breath, the lack of sleep made you climb out of bed with a menacing look on your face as you parted the door.

"Not you again – "

" – Yes, your future husband."

" - Can you stop calling yourself that – " but the words faded in between the sudden yawns that made your nose wrinkle up tiredly. Subconsciously, Jacaerys smiled at the fleeting innocent facade that flashed across your features without you even realizing it.

"Oh, did I disturb your sweet dreams, love?" The feigned tone of innocence in his voice made you glare at him, but the drowsiness inside your flesh and muscles made you dismiss him almost immediately. You began to slowly trace your steps back to your bed, but your vision suddenly turned bleary and you stumbled forward.

Jace was quick to race towards your frame, within a split second, he slid one arm behind your waist and the other behind your knees to lift your body and carry you towards the bed with an evident groan of annoyance.

"Fuck, why are you so heavy?" He tried to deadpan, but when there was no answer and your face suddenly buried into his neck, he began to grow anxious. "Are you alright?"

"Shut up." You mumbled, as the bed deepened with the weight of both of your bodies.

"Perhaps, Sir. Criston should be accommodating you and not me, don't you think?" He suddenly uttered, withdrawing his arm back to move a little further away, as if suddenly realizing you were both laying in bed together, but your hand latched onto his sleeve.

Absently minded, you pulled him back towards your side with a low whisper. "Perhaps."

Relishing the sudden gesture, he stifled a faint smile as he slide his arm around you, but this time, your face relaxed under his touch.

You were almost asleep when he finally decided to drop his gaze and look down at you. Your snow-white hair was matted and splayed against his arm, it contrasted so preciously against your face as if it was almost made for you and just you.

Your body was curled to his side, hands resting underneath your chin like a small child. Your eyes were closed, your long eyelashes brushed against your cheekbones as your chest rose and fell with even breaths. And his fingers suddenly itched to touch your face, to trace with the pad of his fingers all your dainty features that he so often detested – because they weren't his.

God, did he hate the thought of that?

But it was true.

He hated how all eyes were on you.

He hated how many suitors were at your feet.

He hated not having you to himself.

But, of course, he would much rather die than admit it out to the wind. So, when he was certain you were sleeping, he pulled away from your touch and made his way out without a word as if almost running away from you.

#fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #daemon targeryan #hotd x reader #house of the dragon

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biancadjarin · 1 year

Text

ʚ Send Me an Angel ɞ

part 1 part 2

- pairing: perv!dark!em x bratty!henderson sister!fem reader

- content warning: 18+ rough sex, choking, Eddie’s a bit scary/stalker vibes in this one. Proceed with caution!

- words: listen, I don’t know how to do the word count thing but this is a longer one.

- a/n: Eddie became a little darker in this chapter.. hopefully you enjoy! Y’know in S4E1 when Erica says “He’s sharp.” And Eddie shoots the guys that look when they laugh? That’s the energy he has in this. Anyway, feedback, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! Also just btw-a lot of my titles are songs. Send me an Angel is an 80’s banger I highly recommend listening to. Find the rest of my masterlist HERE.

You’ve been waiting in your bedroom for almost 2 hours when you hear your front door start to open and shut. Finally your brothers annoying little friends are all going home and Eddie will be up here soon. You do a giddy little dance thinking about being alone with him.

Omg Eddie is going to be in my room, you think to yourself. Your stomach has been filled with anxious butterflies all night and you’ve gone from casually sitting at your desk *pretending* to read a book, to laying on your bed looking nonchalant and sexy to pacing your floor, to where you are now, sinking into the plush oversized beanbag chair in the corner of your room. Your eyes dart to your clock again for the 100th time. 11:22pm.

What’s taking him so long? Did he change his mind? Was he just teasing you before in the kitchen? Maybe he just wanted you to stop distracting him and his hellfire friends so they could finish their stupid game…

Just as you started to feel your nose tingle with the beginning of tears a knock comes on your door. “Come in!” you call out sweetly.

Much to your disappointment, Dustin walks in. Alone.

“Hey so the guys are all gone. Thanks for giving us some space..” he looks down at his socked feet nervously. “Sorry if I was a little rude before.” he says sincerely. You smile at him. As much as your little brother can be a total pain in the ass, you love him and you’re happy he’s got a group of friends that are as nerdy as him. It’s actually a miracle he was allowed into Hellfire. All the other guys are seniors.

“They’re all gone?” You ask, trying to hide the desperate hopefulness in your voice. “Yep, you can go downstairs and make as much noise as you want. I’m going to bed. Night!” He calls over his shoulder as he heads down the hall to his room.

You walk over to your door and close it again, the disappointment spilling from your heart, into a pit in your stomach and creeping back up into your throat, which is tightening. The tingles in your nose are back as the sting of tears start to prick at your eyes. You slip into your silky pink nightgown and run back to your bed to hide under the covers. Of course Eddie doesn’t really like me. You think to yourself. He probably only likes pretty cheerleaders. You remember how you felt a few days ago at lunch when Eddie checked two of them out when they walked past him. His eyes swept their bodies from head to toe while he grinned and they giggled and pretended Hawkin’s resident freak wasn’t also one of the hottest guys in school. The tears finally spilled from your eyes as you imagined Eddie going to hang out with one of them tonight instead of you…

Your room is dark except for the moonlight spilling in through your double windows when you’re awoken from your sleep with a soft tap tap tap on the glass. Your eyes open slowly and adjust to the low light when you see a silhouette outside of your window. Your heart stops for half a second before realizing who it is. Eddie’s crouched on your balcony, moonlight backlighting his curls and broad shoulders.

He waves at you and points at the latch on your window, beckoning you to come and unlock it. You begin to toss the covers off your body when you stop and look at the clock. 12:07am. Why is he here now? Did he forget about me and then finally remember? I should just let him freeze out there. Your mind is racing with questions that there’s only one way to get answers to so you decide to take a deep breath and huff over to your window, unlocking and pulling it open.

“Shit y/n, I’ve been tapping on your window for ten minutes.” Eddie says as he ducks into the warmth of your room. He looks around, taking in the soft pink of your walls, the desk littered with perfumes and jewelry, your bed’s puffy white duvet looking like a soft, ethereal cloud, your unicorn and bunny stuffed animals mixed in with your pillows. The corners of his mouth start to lift into a smirk until his eyes land on you, standing in front of him pouting with your arms crossed as you stare at him.

“What’re you doing here?” You ask him in your quiet, sleepy voice. Your eyes look tired and puffy, pink rimmed and still a bit wet from your tears. Confusion is written all over Eddie’s face. You two had a plan didn’t you? He was going to come here after Hellfire. He’s here. So what’s the problem?

“I’m here to see you angel.” He says low and gravelly as he steps closer to you, his warm hands settling on either side of your waist. His fingers squeeze and slip over the buttery fabric. “This is cute.” He says as his eyes dip down to take in your body. “Is this what princesses like you sleep in?” He says mockingly, eyes darting back up to yours, grinning like a devil. He pushes closer into you, the front of his denim covered thighs meeting your bare ones. You back up slowly, moving with him as he maneuvers you two towards your bed.

“It’s midnight Eddie.” You say with your bratty attitude as your palms come up to rest on his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours. I-I thought…” your voice gets lost in your throat.

“You thought what baby?” Eddie asks, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb pushing up your jaw so your eyes meet his. “Why does it look like you’ve been crying?” He asks, voice softening as he studies your face intently.

“I though maybe you forgot about me. Or you didn’t actually want to see me.” You whine as your lower lip comes out in a pout.

He chuckles, “Forget about you?” He shakes his head as he leans close to your face, “Never. I just had to take your little boyfriend Gareth home first. And I couldn’t just walk up the stairs and into your room now could I? What would Dustin think?”

You shrug and look to the side. You hadn’t thought of that. “Girls as pretty as you really shouldn’t cry over boys, princess. Especially ones as dumb as me.” Eddie’s voice is a whisper as he softly turns your face to look back at him. You want to argue and tell him he’s not dumb but you can’t help but feel a bit intimidated by him at this close proximity. He’s a few inches taller than you, and the scent flowing off of him is making your mind feel dizzy. He smells clean and warm, like cheap bar soap and cigarette smoke. His breath smells faintly like cherry, like he drank a dr. pepper on the way over here. “I don’t actually like Gareth you know, Eddie.” You tell him. He laughs again, hands releasing your cheeks. “Oh no?” He asks, mock surprised. You shake your head as you watch him start to kick off his sneakers and reach over his head to pull off his shirt. “Just tryin’ to make me jealous then?” He winks.

You stare at him with wide eyes. Eddie’s in my room. Shirtless. In the middle of the night. My crush is shirtless in my room at 12am. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, then ask him, “What are you doing?”

“Y/n, c’mon, it’s midnight. I’m horny. Let’s not play pretend ok?” He says as he sits on the edge of your bed, thighs spread wide for you to stand between. “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” His hand reaches out and tickles at the hem of your nightgown, shifting it up your thigh slightly and leaving goosebumps on your skin. “Lemme see that pretty little body baby.” You’re practically shaking with nervous energy when you reach up to pull the thin straps of your nightgown off your body. You know the second you do, you’ll be completely bare in front of Eddie. You can already feel the warm wetness slicking between your legs and you wonder if Eddie is as nervous as you. Probably not.

Your fingers begin to reach up when Eddie suddenly puts a hand up. “Wait.” You stare at him, wondering if you’ve done something wrong. He sighs, “I don’t want you to do this unless you’re sure. I can leave.” He says as he points a thumb back to the window he came in from. Your eyes widen in panic, head shaking back and forth as you whimper a soft “Mm mm! I’m sure, Eddie. I really want you here.” He bites his bottom lip to hold back his smile. “I don’t know.” He teases. “Maybe I should go.. wouldn’t want to start something you can’t handle.” “I can handle it Eddie, promise.” “Good. Now take it off slowly. Give me a little show sweetheart. Like you’re unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.” He leans back, palms resting behind him. A smug smirk plays across his lips. You do as he says, sliding one strap off your shoulder and playfully lifting the hem of your nightgown, turning slowly and letting the underside of your asscheeks peek out at him. He groans and bites his bottom lip as he watches you. He wants a show, you’ll give him one.

“Y’know I’ve thought about this.” Eddie starts, “Ever since the first time I saw you. I knew you couldn’t be a good girl all the time.”

“Sometimes good girls can do bad things.” You say over your shoulder to him. “Especially for bad boys.”

He laughs. “Bad boys, huh? S’that what I am?” You look at him with narrowed eyes and a weak smile, as if he just asked if the sky is blue. When he laughs his dimples deepen and his eyes crinkle at the corners. Their deep caramel color sparkles in the moonlight spilling in from your window. He’s even prettier at night. You didn’t think that was possible.

“I’m not the kind of guy that has crushes y/n. It’s not hard for me to get girls. In fact, it’s a little too easy sometimes.” He palms at the growing erection in his jeans, giving it a few rubs before he pops open the top button of his tight pants. “Me and Harrington even have a little game going. Who can fuck twenty six girls first? A name for every letter in the alphabet.” Your stomach drops at his confession. “But then I met you. And I didn’t wanna play that game anymore. I didn’t wanna think about other girls anymore. Because I felt something I’d forgotten I could feel. A crush. On you.” You spin back around to look at him. You let both straps fall off your shoulders, the cool air of your room instantly hitting your sensitive nipples and making them taut and perked. Eddie lets out a low groan as his hips stir. “It’s pathetic really.. how much I think about you.” He admits. His hand reaches up to cup your breasts, letting the curve of them rest in his palms as his thumbs swipe your nipples roughly. Your heartbeat is pulsing in your ears but you keep listening intently to Eddie, not wanting to miss a word. “I thought the curiosity was going to kill me until I figured out Dustin is your brother. So even though him and Mike are freshman, I let them join Hellfire.” Your eyebrows furrow as you start to piece together what Eddie is saying. None of this was an accident.

“Fuck these are nice. You want me to suck your tits? Treat you like the slut I know you are?” You groaned at his words, pussy throbbing and dripping with desire. “Yes Eddie please. Want you.” “Want me to what?” “Treat me like a slut. Please.” His eyes looked up at yours, one eyebrow raised, mouth hanging open. “Yeah?” He clarified. You nodded as you bit your lip. His hands grab either side of your hips to pull you closer to him. Your thighs lean against his lap, his hard bulge poking into you.

His lips suction over your nipple in an instant. His mouth is warm, no, hot and his tongue is velvety smooth. He licks your nipple sloppily before switching to your other boob. He begins to suck that nipple before letting his mouth wander a bit and attaching to the smooth squishy skin of your breast. His eyes are closed and his breath is coming out in hot bursts through his nostrils as he sucks the skin hard. After a few seconds, he releases with a pop and sits back a bit to admire his work. An oval shaped purple and pink bruise. “I guess I won’t be wearing low cut tops for a few days.” You say breathlessly. His eyebrows pinch in the middle, annoyed at the thought of another guy looking at you, fuck even thinking about you! He pulls your nightgown off the rest of the way roughly, tossing it across your room.

A low strained sound comes from deep in his throat. His hands ghost down your sides and settle on your ass, the tips of his fingers resting at the crease under your cheeks. He pulls you impossibly closer to him and then lifts both hand to bring them down with a loud smack! You jolt forward and the cute little squeal noise you make shoots right to Eddie’s cock. If he doesn’t fuck your soon, he thinks he’ll go insane. He stands up and instructs you to lay down. You do as your told, laying on your soft bed, sheets cool and smoothed down, not a wrinkle in them. Eddie can’t wait to make a mess of you and your perfect little bed. He unbuckles his belt and pulls it out of it’s loops with a thwip. You lay on your side and watch him pull his boxers down, the light trail of hair under his belly button leading to a small patch of matching brown above his dick. And holy shit he’s big. Bigger than you thought. He crawls onto the bed, body laying on top of yours, the full weight of him being partially supported by his forearm by your head.

“You ready to be my good girl? Or do you still want me to treat you like a slut?” He questioned, eyes staring into yours. His eyes are telling you to say you’ll be good but your brain is telling you to let him treat you like a slut. “Uhm..” he senses your hesitation. And honestly? It just makes him harder. “I’ve only had sex once before Eddie. I don’t know if-if I can fit you.” You say nervously, not wanting to disappoint him. “Oh don’t worry, princess.” He reaches down and lets his fingers pet the smooth wet folds of your pussy. He slips a finger into you easily, pumping a couple times before adding a second. “You can do anything you set your mind to.” He says before removing his hand and slowly sliding his entire length into you at once. A loud moan comes from deep within you as he settles on both his forearms, his fingers getting lost in your hair and his hips setting a deep, intense rhythm. Every pump of his cock makes him groan in disbelief, never thinking he’d know what your sweet pussy felt like. But now he’s here and it’s better than he’s ever imagined. Your soft moans and sighs, every inch of you impossibly soft, the smell of bubblegum on your skin and vanilla floating off of your hair. Your pussy is perfect, spongey and warm and fuck, is she clenching around me right now? He wonders. His nickname for you has never been more true. You’re his now. His angel. And he’d do anything to be the only one to corrupt you ever again.

“You’re so tight baby.” He says into the side of your neck. “Been wanting this for so long, fuck.” “Me too.” You moan out weakly. He chuckles before a hand reaches down and pulls up behind your knee, your thigh coming to press into your chest. He pumps faster now, holding you in the position. His dick is even deeper inside you and the pleasure is starting to turn into a pressure that almost feels too like much.

“Ed-Eddie! It’s s’too much! I can’t!” “Shut up.” He growls into your ear, pace not letting up. You feel tears starts to wet the edge of your eyes, one escaping and sliding down your cheek. “You said you wanted this sweetheart.” He pants, a sheen of sweat starting to emerge on his chest from his effort. “I’m just giving you what you begged for.” You whimpered beneath him, the pain fading back into something pleasurable again. His hand came to rest on your throat, fingers curling into the sides and applying a light pressure. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on the coil tightening in your belly, your floor muscles cramping and putting pressure on your clit from the inside. As if he can read your thoughts, Eddie’s fingers find your swollen bud and begin vibrating against it in tight circles.

“Look how wet you are, angel. Making a total mess on your sheets.” You look down but it’s no use. Too dark to see. You can’t think. Can’t speak. Can only feel how Eddie’s cock is splitting you open and his hand is around your neck. “Open your mouth baby.” He demands breathlessly. You open up, tongue sticking out a bit before Eddie spits toward your mouth. Some landing on your tongue, the rest on your chin and chest. He laughs darkly and you pout up at him. “Wha?” He asks teasing you with a fake pout to mirror yours. “Too rough for you baby?”

“Mm mm.” You say as you shake your head. “That’s what I thought. Now shut up so I can concentrate, gonna cum so hard and deep in this pussy.” “Wait Eddie- you should really pull out I’m not on-”. His hand leaves your throat to come up and cover your mouth. You whine through his hand but it doesn’t matter. He’s back at your clit and your orgasm comes rushing like the crest of a wave in the dead of night. Dark and all consuming, it pulls you under and fills your ears with ringing.

Eddie comes closely behind you, pushing his hips flush against yours, making sure every drop he spills inside you stays there.

“Fuuuuck.” He groans as he rolls onto your rumpled duvet, laying next to you for a minute as his breathing gets back to normal. You roll onto your side and lean your cheek on his tattooed bicep, fingertips angling his face to kiss you. He does, his tongue massaging yours and a ringed hand coming up to cradle your cheek softly. A stark contrast to his demeanor a minute ago. The kiss almost feels sweet. Romantic. Soft. Maybe he’s a little rough when he fucks you but if he’s this sweet the rest of the time, it’s worth it. Worth it to be his, his, just his.

He sighs deeply before shrugging you off his arm, standing up and getting dressed. You get up and slip your nightie back on, not sure if he’s about to leave or ask you to come with him.. you kinda hope it’s the latter.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything. Just pulls his leather jacket on and starts to walk towards your window. You follow after him, hand finding his just as he gets to the window. He turns and smiles at you, a detached look in his eyes that you lie to yourself and say is just him being tired.

“If I stay here and cuddle with you, I won’t ever want to leave y/n.” You nod slowly, knowing you deserve better but accepting his reasoning nonetheless. “But you’ll call me? You’ll talk to me at school?” You ask him sadly. His heart really does ache at your sweet questions. “Of course I will, angel.” He says with a soft kiss and nuzzle of the tip of his nose against yours that makes you giggle. “I’ll see you Monday.” He says as he ducks out your window, disappearing back into the night.

You lay back down, fake scenarios playing in your mind about what Monday will bring lulling you to sleep.

Eddie gets back in his van and pops open the glovebox. Tongue poking out of the side of his mouth he feels around for a crumpled piece of paper and a pen. Next to the first letter of your name, he put a check mark and writes “y/n, best one yet.”

the end

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

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