#and took a hammer directly to it........

[possiblytracker]

#totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom #when it sank in the beginning and i was already going 'hmm maybe i should modify this' then immediately 'nah fuck it we ball' #and took a hammer directly to it........ #sleep deprivation win 👍 #ignore the Meat Shield 3am tracker thought it was the funniest shit ever and it just never broke

[gogogodzilla]

day 31, sex pollen

peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, unprotected sex, fuck or die, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, reader gets sad at the end, multiple orgasms, dedicated to @omgbrcat hope you enjoy it bestie kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You didn’t think you’d ever run so fast and wildly in your life. Well, except for last year when you were fighting for your life and running away from everything that was trying to kill you. 

Peeta was a few steps behind you, slower and stumbling a bit due to his prosthetic leg. You threw a glance over your shoulder every few seconds, just to make sure he was still there with you. 

The various leaves and foliage of the jungle hit you as you ran. You hardly even notice as the foliage shifts from a  normal lush green to unnatural shades of pinks, purples, and blues. You did notice, however, when one of the plants shoots a dusty substance directly in your face as you run past it. 

You lost your footing as you attempted to wipe the dust off your face. Peeta came up beside you, arms outstretched and ready to pick you up. 

“Don’t!” you shouted as you slowly stood, slightly relieved that your face didn’t immediately burn off. “I don’t want it to affect you, whatever it is.”

Your ears strained as you tried to discern if the mutts were still on your tail. 

“Do you hear them?” Peeta questioned, echoing your thoughts. “Y’know since you have a Capitol-engineered ear and all.”  

You huffed out a laugh as you listened. You couldn’t hear the familiar rustle of leaves, and you relaxed slightly. You knew never to get too comfortable in the arena, but your lungs were burning and you needed to get this stuff off your face. 

“Do you still have the spile?” you asked, attempting to avoid the way your body felt like it was on fire and your heart was pounding in your chest. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, as he began to hammer it into the trunk of a nearby tree. You prayed that the trees wouldn’t be as hazardous as whatever was covering your face. You watched as he stuck a finger under the liquid flowing out of the spile, checking to make sure it was safe. 

He wrapped his hand around your elbow and it felt like fire bloomed under his touch. He was gentle as always as he guided your face under the water. You dragged your hands over your face as you washed off the dusty substance that had covered it. You attempted to rid yourself of the inferno burning under your skin. 

Your cheeks flushed as you pulled away from the stream of water. Peeta’s touch was fleeting but your entire body ached for him. It was a strange feeling, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your chest with every shaky breath you took. You hunched over, attempting to calm yourself. A thin sheen of sweat begins to cover your skin, and your eyebrows furrowed in something akin to pain. 

You heard Peeta call your name, but the only thing you could get out was a whimper. He was on you within seconds, gripping your shoulders and shaking you slightly. You scrambled out of his touch, thinking clearly enough to know that you needed to get away from him. 

“What’s wrong?” he questioned, voice desperate and eyes frantically searching over your form. You hurriedly crawled away from him. 

You shook your head, as you pressed your back against a tree. “I— I don’t know. I feel hot,” you breathed, conflicted between clenching your thighs together and spreading them for him. 

 Peeta kneeled in front of you, eyes soft, “How can I help?” 

You remembered before you’d entered your first Games together how he didn’t want the Game to change him. You were thankful that he was still the same sweet boy you entered the arena with. He was different in some ways, of course. No one left the arena unscathed, but who he was at his core was unwavering. 

Your vision was becoming hazy, and a dull ache where you’d never felt it before emerged. You let out a low groan as the heat blistering down to your bones becomes almost unbearable.

Peeta crawled between your legs and cupped your face. You hissed at his touch, leaning into him. You gripped onto his sides, nails digging into the soft flesh through his suit. His touch felt heavenly against your skin, a ravenous hunger for more filled you to the very brim.

“Touch me,” you whimpered out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Please, Peeta.”

He swiped a thumb across your cheek, and your grip on his tightened. You tugged him closer, your limbs seeming to move on their own. You made a small, strangled sound in the back of your throat. 

Peeta’s lips were hesitant against yours as he kissed you. He was always so gentle with you, never wanting to cross a line. You moaned against him, and swiped your tongue across his bottom lip, desperate to taste him. 

You wrapped your arms around his back and clawed at the zipper to his suit, tugging it down as much as you could. He sucked in a breath as you yanked his suit off of his shoulders, practically manhandling him. You were giving the Capitol exactly what they wanted, but you didn’t care. 

The ache deep between your legs was growing with every moment, and your body temperature rose along with it. Your kisses increased in desperation until you were pleading against Peeta’s lips and writhing against him. 

“It’s okay,” Peeta soothed, reaching behind you to unzip your suit. “I’ll help, it’s okay.” 

You hurriedly peeled your suit off your shoulders, letting out a sigh as Peeta’s fingers trailed over the newly exposed skin. Your cheeks flushed as he leaned down to press open-mouthed kisses against the column of your neck and your chest. 

You ran your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, the feeling doing little to quell the electricity crackling under your skin. His tongue circled your nipple, eliciting a breathy whine from you. 

You raked your hands through the hair at the nape of his tugged and tugged on the strands. A groan vibrated in his throat, and his hands splayed against your ribcage. 

“Peeta,” you whined as he kneaded your other breast and you clenched your thighs around him. 

You couldn’t stand not having him for a second longer and you hooked your arms under his, gripping him tightly as you rolled to the side. You landed on top of him, straddling him. You panted as you finally got a good look at him. His eyes were half-lidded and he was flushed and breathing heavily. His pupils were blown wide as he looked up at you. 

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, “Is it getting to you, too?” 

He nodded, attempting to steady his breathing. You stood and shimmied out of your suit, tossing it to the side. You leaned down to hook your fingers into the waistband of Peeta’s suit and looked up at him through your lashes. The quick dip of his head was all you needed, and you were practically ripping his suit off of him. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken off Peeta’s pants, but you flushed all the same. You were too focused on saving his life last time to worry about being embarrassed. 

You were back on him faster than your hazy mind could process, your hips moving on their own accord as you ground against his thigh. His length pressed against your belly, warm and unbelievably hard, as you dragged your hips against him. 

You reached down and stroked him in time with each rut of your hips. He let out a mix between a whimper and a sigh as you did. Your movements quickened, and you buried your face in the crook of Peeta’s neck. With each twist of your wrist around his cock, he was letting out noises that had heat pooling in your belly. His tip was leaking, and you loved the sound he made when you ran your thumb over it. 

Peeta’s fingertips dug into the plush of your hips so hard you didn’t doubt that he’d leave bruises. The animalistic part of you that had taken control wanted him to mark you in every way possible. Your slick had begun to cover Peeta’s thigh, allowing you to easily grind against him.

Your strokes became more erratic as your pace against Peeta’s cock increased. You both were so wound tight you might burst. You’d never been so aware of your pulse pounding in your ears, and you came with a strangled cry. Tears coated your cheeks as warmth encased your entire being and you spasmed against Peeta. You had a moment of respite as you thought the plant’s effects had subsided, but the drive to ravish him returned with a vengeance. 

He followed you off the precipice soon after you calmed down, back arched and head thrown back as his release covered your knuckles. The fog that surrounded your head cleared just enough for you to realize just how pretty Peeta looked like this. If you were going to die, you didn’t think you’d get a better view. 

Your pace slowed but Peeta was still hard in your hand. The boiling heat still lingered under your skin, and your pulse quickened. You wondered if that was the Capitol’s goal; to make you so fucked out you succumb to exhaustion or burn you from the inside out. 

Peeta looked utterly exhausted and a coil of guilt settled in the pit of your stomach. 

“Just one more, please,” you begged, trailing kisses down his neck. He nodded against you, and you could’ve cried from the relief that washed over you.

You lifted your hips and aligned the tip of his cock with your entrance, gasping at the sensation. Peeta’s hips bucked up unconsciously, shoving himself deeper inside you. A pained hiss left you, and Peeta cried out a thousand apologies, his iron grip returning to your hips once more. 

“I’m sorry. You’re just— Fuck… So— tight,” he babbled out, brown eyes glazing over. You pressed a featherlight kiss against his cheek, thoughts too consumed with his cock inside you to reassure him properly. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, sighing when your hips were finally flush. Peeta had his eyes screwed shut, gritting his jaw in thinly veiled restraint. 

Your hands settled on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips against his. Peeta rested his head against the tree as you rode him, releasing little pants and moans with every thrust of your hips. 

With each moment that passed your movements became more erratic, desperate to reach your peak once again. Peeta’s hands frantically roamed your body, grasping and kneading whatever inch of skin he could reach. 

He reached a hand between the two of you and drew hurried circles around your clit. He lifted his hips to meet yours, jutting himself deeper inside you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled your ears, and you prayed you were the only ones trapped in this portion of the arena. 

It took no time for your release to hit you, practically knocking the wind out of you as you clenched around Peeta’s cock. Your vision went hazy, and for a moment you feared you’d pass out. 

Peeta finished with a few more rolls of your hips against his. He filled you to the brim, his release hot and steady coated your walls. 

Your vision cleared as you came down from your high. The fire within you had finally dissipated, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You felt exhaustion consume you as you slumped against Peeta. 

“I’m sorry,” you slurred out, clinging onto Peeta like your life depended on it. Your face screwed up and you felt your throat tightening. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” he rushed out, running his hands over your body, attempting to soothe you as quiet sobs wracked your body. Your last thought before drowsiness overtook you was of how much you didn’t deserve Peeta Mellark. 

Your heart pounded as you awoke, adrenaline spiking as you heard someone calling your name. You jumped to your feet, eyes frantically searching your surroundings. Your movements caused Peeta to stir and his eyes shot open, the same panic gracing his features. 

You tugged on your suit, grimacing at the dried cum that covered your inner thighs. You tossed Peeta his suit and pulled him to his feet. You didn’t know how long you’d been out, and the thought turned your stomach. Someone could’ve easily come along and killed you both. 

You grabbed your weapon while Peeta removed the spile from the tree. 

“Let’s just hope our sponsors enjoyed the show,” you joked, immediately cringing as soon as the words left your mouth. 

The corners of Peeta’s mouth quirked up, “I’m sure they did.”

#peeta mellark #the hunger games #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games peeta #thg peeta #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark x reader smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #reader insert #no y/n #josh hutcherson

[14thgalerie]

you know other women?

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: my kind of woman by mac demarco / sad girl by lana del rey

• word count: 1.2k

• genre: smut (suggestive)

— not proofread again. i just wanted to write a short one because i haven't been in the mood to write anything and it feels shitty. also this is the last time i'm writing something like this, i just wanted to try it out. took the idea from this request!

“You’re the most jealous woman I know!”

There was silence for a moment. Your thumb and pointer finger slipped under his chin and grasped it gently, making him look up at you from his seated position. Your stormy eyes were a bit darker than normal. His heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. 

“You know other women?”

Theo didn’t utter a word, his silence speaking volumes, proven more by the tremble in his lower lip. 

“Theodore.”

He pulls back from your touch. Eyes fixated on the intricate natural curves of the grains of the wooden floor. Tracing every line. Ignoring the pulsing beat that hammers against his chest. He does this for what internally felt like hours that they didn’t even look like lines anymore. It looked like something else, indecipherable.

“I am talking to you and if you don’t look at me for another second longer…” Your voice trails off in a terrifying tone that makes his head tilt up in less than a millisecond.

“Answer me.”

“Well…of course I know them, but that doesn’t mean I talk to them, you know?” The twitch in his speech is noticeable even by the breeze that passes through the open window. The unbothered, amused tone that he tried to emulate is useless as you remain standing there unimpressed.

Still, and locked in on him like he was a prey. Almost daring him to make another slip of the tongue. 

His mouth hangs open while he flounders in his position, his brain wracking for anything to save him from whatever it is you seem to be planning in your mind.  

“Y/N. Darling. You do know that, right? Just like how you’re the only woman that I even let near me?” 

Compared to earlier, he finds a sense of confidence to look you directly in the eyes. When you make no move to recognise this, he takes it as a sign to continue.

“And I was only playing with you earlier. It didn’t mean anything other than a simple teasing to get you riled up. It was just in the heat of the moment.” He said tremulously. Well aware that he looked and sounded like a mess, spilling whatever his mind could conjure up.

Not a part of him could pinpoint exactly what it was you were thinking, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn’t be spared. But frankly? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him.

A tiny voice inside his head inviting him to keep on with the constant rambling that surely worsened his sentence. 

Deep in his thoughts as he tries to expel them, he doesn’t notice how you have come closer, now standing a mere arm’s length away from him. 

“You are mine only. It’ll do you well to remember that.”

The only response his body allows him is a timid nod as you press your thumb on his lower lip, pulling it down. They make a path of tingles as it travels along the sharp features of his face drawing out a whimper from him. 

His breath catches in his throat as your hands tighten around the velvety strands of his chocolate-brown hair, tugging it until he is forced to meet your gaze.

“Your touch, your gaze, they are mine. Only I will hear the way you pathetically beg.”

Nothing more is said as you lean down and, surprisingly, gently press your lips to his. The familiar pair that he has craved since it last touched his hours ago. He ignores the slightly cracked skin; dry from the screaming match you’ve been at for a while.

It was slow. Passionate. Desperate. It fueled a fire deep within the pit of his stomach, travelling downwards.

His hands are wild and rough as they grapple at whatever part of you they can touch; your hips being its choice. But despite this amusing attempt to regain control of the situation, he remains vulnerable to your touch. 

When you pull away from him, unknowingly, he follows your movement, chasing after that addicting warmth. One that you generously gave as you moved to leave a path of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 

You don’t pause in your actions as you move your legs to sit on either side of him, his hands mindlessly moving along your lower back to secure you in his lap. Something that sends tingles straight to your core.

His insides were burning him from the inside out, flames consuming him. Intensified as you move towards a sensitive spot, rendering him into a groaning mess under you.

“You wanted this didn’t you?” You taunt playfully, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your mouth. “Tried to provoke me to give you attention?”

To which he tries to deny with meaningless words as his body contradicts them. Thrusting upwards to meet your cruel torment. To feel a sliver of relief in his tightening trousers. His hands, which moved to your hips sometime between your teasing, helped guide you in the back-and-forth motion against his groin. 

“Look at you.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobes lightly. Tracing your fingers along his chest, drawing lines and curves. “Can other women have you writhing like a deprived man also? I’d be so delighted to see if they can even come close.”

He stares at you as you draw back with wide, unblinking eyes, and a slackened jaw as heavy exhales pass through his ajar lips. “No.”

“I don’t care for them, I just want you, please.”

Forgetting all sense aside, leaving it for future him to figure out, his lips found yours again. Tongue delving to explore the hollow of your mouth, while his hands continue to move you just to feel that fire blooming in his core finally be released. It seemed that maybe you were gracious enough to let him do it, despite the obvious act of disobedience that you punished him for.

The moans that were like music to your ears were pathetic enough for you. Getting louder that he had to push his head against your chest to muffle the sounds that others outside must have heard already. You run your fingers through his hair, something that always pushed him off the brink of his high. 

In his desperation, he never forgets about you and draws his dominant hand between your bodies straight towards your clothes core before you roughly grasp his wrist and toss it aside.

“No touching.” You warn. “But-“

“You don’t deserve to.” You curtly retort. It was pathetic, the way that his hand itched to disobey you but he knew that he was pushing the boundaries too far already.

“Just as you deserve this.” You declare, his eyes widen in bewilderment as the weight on his lap is lifted, leaving him with only the pitiful feeling of emptiness. “What-”

You remain silent, casually strolling towards the locked door, indifferent to his wide-eyed desperation and his fumbling hands that seem to forget what it’s supposed to do. The a slight tremor in his voice as he calls for you.

“See you at dinner.”

“You can’t just leave me here, love, please.” He says, a hint of desperation at the end. 

“You don’t make the calls, Theo.” You say, unwavering, while he sits there helplessly. You weren’t going to give him a punishment that he would like, no.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott smut #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

[seat-safety-switch]

Night vision is a growing worry among motorists. It seems like new cars have ever-more-powerful headlights, which ruin your ability to see anything other than a retina-scarring cone of light. And that’s if you’re the one driving the new car. If you’re like me, and operate a rickety old car whose headlights are most generously described as “present,” you can easily be blinded by every asshole on the road who can fork over a down payment.

Worst of all, there’s no way to get back at them. Until now.

A couple years ago, I was introduced to a guy who was really into headlights. Making sure they had good bulbs, clear lenses, cutoffs, properly aligned, all that important stuff that nobody does. The thing he wanted to express to me most about my car, of course, is that it had shitty wiring feeding the headlights. When the headlights turn on, they’re limited by how much juice they can pull through that shitty wiring. He recommended that I get thicker, beefier wiring, like the kind you’d use to run a welder, or accidentally electrify your neighbour’s fence when you’re sick of him playing party rock at 4am.

At the time, the price of copper was pretty high, so I never took the opportunity to follow his advice. After getting an impromptu suntan on my drive back from work the other day, I now see the error of my ways. A quick visit to a nearby electrical substation equipped me with some exceptionally thick wire, and a bit of hammering and crimping got me the rest of the way. And of course the stock headlights wouldn’t do much: a subsequent quick visit to the airport filled the trunk of my car with some of those sodium bulbs that they use to warn airplanes not to crash into the airport. Perfect, I thought, and went along my merry way.

I didn’t have to wait long until a RAV4 bumbled into my path, shining its misaimed lights directly into my soul. Now, at last, the moment of my revenge was at hand. Also at hand: the high-beam switch. The exact memory of what happened next is a bit jumbled, but I’m pretty sure that the antagonistic Toyota was erased from existence only femtoseconds before my battery caught fire and exploded. Scientists are still confused about how, even long after my car has left the area, there remains a cone of perfectly lit road at all hours of the day, hovering ominously.

#best of

[natashaismylove]

A meeting in the dark |N. Romanoff

Summary: A vampire has been causing havoc in the village, making everyone scared for their lives. Y/n decides to take matters into her own hands, but doesn’t realize that that is exactly what the vampire wants…

Pairing: Dark!Dom!Vampire!Natasha x Sub!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dub-con, Mentions murder and death, Stalking, Mentions kidnapping, Wooden stake used as a dildo (Reader receiving), Oral (Reader receiving), Nipple play, Teasing, Praise, Sort of public sex, Biting, Blood, Masochism, Sadism. 18+ Minors DNI

Word count: 2k

═════════☾☆☽═════════

You could feel her eyes on you. You could feel her watching your every move as you walked through the woods. You couldn't hear her, you couldn't see her, but you knew she was there. Your wooden stake was secured to your belt, hidden by your jacket, and you hoped you could reach for it in time.

You knew this was a stupid idea. Using yourself as bait to kill a vampire wasn’t ideal, but you had to make do. You couldn’t allow more people in your town to die. You didn’t want to see any more corpses bled dry with bite marks on their neck. 

You nearly caught your foot on a root sticking up from the ground, but you were quick to regain your balance as you continued further into the woods. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the friends you’d lost to this wretched vampire. You wanted her dead.

“Where exactly are you taking me?”

You felt your blood run cold as you froze. She knew you were aware of her. You pulled your stake out from the holster, grasping it tightly in your hand. You heard a twig snap behind you and you knew she was approaching. Her steps came closer and closer until she was just close enough for you to-

Her reflexes were quicker than yours and she caught your raised hand clutching the wooden stake. She let out a cold chuckle, “You were going to stab me, huh? That’s not very nice of you.”

You clenched your jaw in fear, staring at the pale woman in front of you. Her red eyes bore into yours, a wicked smirk on her red-painted lips that almost mimicked blood. You couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, but underneath her alluring appearance was an evil killer.

“What was your plan here?” she tilted her head. “Lure me out into the woods and take my life?”

You knew you were trembling, terrified to your core. Her cold hand wrapped around your wrist was a constant reminder of just how close she was, of how easily she could sink her teeth into your neck and have your dead body on the ground in a second.

“I don’t really think you thought this through, did you?” she laughed. “You’re adorable for trying though.”

She pulled the stake out of your hand and placed it in the waistline of her pants before she started walking forwards, causing you to back up with every step she took. Your breath hitched when your back met with a tree, the vampire's face only inches away from yours. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as she stared down at you, a hungry look in her eyes. You felt yourself nearly get lost in them, but you were quick to remind yourself of what she was. She took hold of both of your wrists in one of her hands, pinning them above your head. She leaned in closer, her nose brushing against your jawline. Her mouth hovered over your neck and you shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable bite that would end your life.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill you. Wouldn’t want a pretty thing like you to go to waste like that,” she spoke into your ear, placing a kiss directly under it. 

You blinked in confusion as she pressed more kisses down your neck, sucking gently on your skin to leave a bruise. You felt a moan form in the back of your throat, but you held it back. 

“I’ve been watching you for so long…” she whispered as she moved to the other side of your neck. “Dreamt of you…”

Your breathing picked up at her words. You were confused and scared, but somehow also aroused. You wanted to slap yourself for feeling that way, having such thoughts about a murderous creature.

She chuckled, raising her head up to face you, her nose against yours. “I can smell you, how much this is turning you on.”

You became flustered, your mouth opening in surprise. Said surprise only increased when she quickly took your mouth with her own, kissing you hard. You were taken aback and wanted to pull away, but your body overruled your mind and you returned the kiss. 

This is so wrong rang in your head over and over. You were almost angry at your body for reciprocating, for practically melting into her like this. Her tongue tangled with yours, and a quiet whimper was forced out of you against your will.

The hand that wasn’t holding your wrists slid down your side and to your thigh, raising your leg up against her hip. She placed her thigh between your legs, nudging it up against your center. You moaned at the delicious friction she was creating, a pleasurable shock flowing through your body.

She pulled away but kept her forehead on yours, continuing to grind you against her thigh. “Doesn’t that feel good, angel?”

You kept your mouth shut, shaking your head as if you didn’t want to admit it.

She hummed. “Lie all you want, I can see right through you.”

She placed her hand on your chest, grabbing your shirt before she began to unbutton it. The cold air hit your now bare chest and caused your nipples to harden. You felt so exposed as she looked down at you, taking in all of you with lust written all over her face.

She leaned down and took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking on it gently. Your head fell back with a moan as she continued, giving your tits just the attention you needed so badly. She moved on to the other one, giving it the same treatment as you continued to let out sounds of pleasure.

She let go of your nipple before she leaned back up. She let go of your hands and took a step back. You looked at her, confused as to why she stopped.

“Undress for me.” She spoke in a low voice, and you knew it wasn’t a question.

You felt shy under her gaze, the guilt over what you were doing burned painfully in your chest. You looked down at the ground before slowly taking off your shirt. You felt embarrassed as you pulled down your pants, now standing in front of her in just your panties.

“Undress completely.” She ordered sternly.

You swallowed and hooked your fingers onto your underwear, shyly dragging them down your legs. You were hyper-aware of the fact that you were now completely naked, standing out in the open in the middle of the forest. 

“Good girl.” She spoke with lust lacing her voice before she stepped closer to you again. She placed her hands on your hips and turned you around. “Hands on the tree.” 

You took a deep breath and did as she told, placing your hands on the tree in front of you. Her hands ran over your ass before she sunk down to her knees, spreading your cheeks to get a view of your pussy. 

She moaned as she watched your hole clench around nothing, your glistening lips were an obvious sign of how turned on you were. “Fuck, that’s a pretty pussy…”

You placed your forehead against the cold tree, trying to control your breathing. That only lasted so long as you felt the air be forced out of your lungs as her mouth attached to your pussy. Her tongue swiped through your slit before circling your clit. She wrapped her lips around your sensitive pearl and you felt your knees nearly buckle under you.

“God, you taste amazing. Could eat you for days non-stop, I swear…” she groaned.

She dipped her tongue into your hole and she felt your clench around her. Her nails dug into your thighs with her tough grip on them as she fucked you with her tongue. You grew wetter and wetter by the second as she caressed your inner walls, nudging lightly against that one heavenly spot inside of you.

She pulled away, playfully biting your ass without actually breaking the skin. She stood up and pushed herself up against you, her chest flush against your back. She placed her hands on your stomach and let one of her hands travel down to your center. 

She parted your lips with her pointer and ring finger, pressing her middle finger against your clit. She started to rub on it while listening to your little whines and whimpers. “You’re so wet for me…” 

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her playing with you. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time. Her fingers expertly worked you so close to your release, but your eyes shot open as you felt something nudge against your hole.

She smiled against your ear as you gasped when you felt the thick end of your wooden stake be pushed into you. You felt so ashamed as you moaned from being filled up, the stake reaching deep inside of you.

The vampire breathed out in awe as she watched it disappear into you. “Look at how well your pussy takes it…”

Your breath hitched as she started to move it in and out of you slowly, coating the object in your wetness. Her other hand continued to rub circles on your clit to make it easier to fuck you with the stake.

She chuckled as she continued to move it into you. “Isn’t it funny? You were gonna kill me with it, but now it’s deep inside of your pussy fucking you. You love it, don’t you? I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”

You only whined in response, refusing to verbally acknowledge how amazing you felt. Her fingers pinched your clit, causing you to yelp. 

“Answer me.” She ordered you angrily. 

You looked down at the ground in shame before nodding. “You’re making me feel good…”

“That’s more like it.” She moved the angle of the stake a little bit until you moaned loudly. “Right there, honey?”

“Mhm!” You hummed as a reply, your head falling back against her shoulder. She continued to hit the spot over and over again and you could feel your body tensing up. 

She grazed her fangs against your neck, placing a kiss on your collarbone. “It won’t kill you if I bite you, it’ll only hurt a bit…you want me to bite you, angel?” She asked you. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from nodding, needing to feel it so badly. Your breathing picked up, your heartbeat hammered in your chest as the knot in your stomach grew. She never let up on moving the stake in and out of you at a hurried pace as she let her teeth sink into your neck. The pain triggered your orgasm and created the most wonderful feeling you had ever experienced in your life.

She released your neck from her mouth and watched as a drop of blood trickled down from the wound. Your body relaxed into her, her arms wrapping around your waist to steady you. “Such a pretty girl when you come for me.”

You blinked slowly, turning your head enough to look at her. She made eye contact with you, bringing her hand up to lightly stroke your cheek. An almost wicked smile played on her lips as she watched your chest rise and fall rapidly. She licked the blood in the corner of her mouth before she spoke. “I’m definitely keeping you…”

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[dabisbratz]

forget me not — knight!satosugu x male reader

warning: mdni, porn w/ plot, royalty au, prince!reader, knight!satosugu, historical inaccuracies, two ( 2 ) smut scenes: brat!reader, spanking, dirty talk, light feminization, praise / degradation, backshots, possessiveness, jealousy, breeding, overstim, dp, oral, rimming, snowballing, eiffel tower position, mocking, unprotected sex, creampie, arranged marriage ( ment ), full nelson, sub!bottom!reader

w.c: 8.1k

.˚｡♡୨୧ ꒰ sonny says…: this took sooo long t’write but m’actually very happy with the result, hehe !! hope you guys like it too!!

There’s been a disturbance in the force. A rude, sudden awakening plastered on village bulletin boards and hammered into the story-seeking minds of money hungry journalists. The Baron’s son has gone missing.

They say it happened in the midst of the day, unexpected and all too sudden. He was left under the care of Kento Nanami— whom you’ve met a few times, and if you’re being honest. . . You wouldn’t mind taking up the man’s services while the Baron’s son is still missing.

It has nothing to do with you, frankly, seeing as you’ve never been kidnapped. You’re certainly not the Baron’s son— oh, you have much more authority than that— and you’re nowhere near as reckless as he is. Was? In fact, had you been as reckless as to take up the hobby of carriage riding, you’d have taken a butler or two with you. Not that you doubt your abilities in combat— sure, you’ve never thrown an actual punch in your life— but it shouldn’t be too hard. Whatever the status of his stolen life, it has nothing to do with you.

Until it does.

“Satoru Gojo, at your service!” The words are stolen from your mouth before they can even rise, and your hands are being enveloped in the warmth of long, pale palms. His grip is firm, albeit bouncy with vigor as he jolts your hand up and down, nearly snapping your arm clean off.

Satoru. . . Is very pretty. It’s apparent before you even take in his features. It shows in his voice, rich and sweet— you can hear the lopsided smile in it. It shows in his stature: playful yet confident, as if he’s done this a million times before. He doesn’t need good posture to tower over the masses, but he has it anyway. His blazing white hair…Now that’s an anomaly.

Taking note of your strain to wiggle free, he huffs dramatically, swatting your hand away as if it was him who wanted free. He taps a clean fingernail against his bottom lip once, then twice, and leans over to place his face directly in front of your own— increasingly taller by the second. With zero comprehension of personal space, he tilts his gaze up from your hand to your lips. His breath smells faintly of custard tarts, but it’s the smell of his expensive cologne that curves your judgment. For a moment, you consider what it’d be like— being wrapped up in his honey-smooth scent. His voice lowers to a whisper as he tilts his head, “The pleasure’s all mine.”

“You look a mess.” The voice behind him is just as smooth, rich and deep and accompanied by inky, dark hair that you’re sure is against the knightley regime. But you don’t mind it— it’s hard to, especially when it’s attached to someone so. . . beautiful. His eyes match his hair, sleek and sharp dark pools that you’re sure have maidens swooning. His earlobes are stretched, something not as common amongst those of a lower royal status, but it suits him. He’s Suguru Geto, you’ve learned— as Gojo introduces him without a thought, like they’ve known each other for years.

It’s quite evident they do, with the way the white-haired male swings a playful arm over his shoulders and a smile spreads across the brunette’s handsome face. It makes something in your stomach twist, and you’ve decided— just upon feeling it— that you don’t like it.

“He meant to say the pleasure’s ours.”

The garden is peaceful. Full of peonies and orchids, arrays of pink hues and periwinkle petals that dance in the breeze. Leaving little to the imagination sits green leaves of shrubs and berry bushes, lined up along the perimeter of the outstandingly large green-room. Gravel trails of small rocks and shiny pebbles leave a great walkway through the center of every row, bleeding into the rich soil that holds blush roses. You’d spent many sleepless nights here, bare feet digging into the pellets as you’d danced to the celebratory music of the crickets, joining fireflies in their soirée. Kissed by the setting sun, its glowing, orange-yellow rays beam down into the crisp air. You breathe in, deep and full, lungs expanding with rose seeds and baby’s breath. Running your fingertips along the dainty petals, droplets of rainwater tickle your skin. You wish you were a flower, self reliant and free. Devastatingly beautiful under every eye.

Smacked dead center of the garden is a large fountain, sculpted cherubs with gold leaking through the crevices of their wings. Baby cupid follows just behind, a smaller stream of water flowing from his bow and arrow. An extravagant spectacle that was much too flashy for your liking, but gorgeous nonetheless.

There are remnants of your childhood here, large overgrown trees that reach for the skyline holding a wooden swing, sole and lonely, worn down from the years. An unmistakably human dent in the freshly watered roses that fit you perfectly— have fit you perfectly. . . It’s yours.

Or, at least, it is now. After your mother died, you’d taken after her horticulturist nature. It was the last thing you had of her— her trees, her flowers, her soil. She planted the seeds and you nurtured the roots— just as she’d done for you. You used to imagine your life without her when she was around, so much so your throat would tighten and your vision would blur. But it never could’ve amounted to how it’d feel when it actually happened. When she was gone forever, in the midst of the night. Like she’d dissipated into thin air. She left you.

Your knees dig into the soil, a freshly installed pound of mulch to regulate the heat of the roots bound to the ground, scraped up and burning the further you kneel on its surface. You’re sure the fresh smell of grass and dirt will cling to the baby blue silk of your pajamas— especially the shorts— but you have only half the mind to care, shifting your weight ever so often as you spill your family secrets to the peonies. They’re great listeners.

The ground crackles beneath your knees, pebbles leaving behind thick remnants of dust as they’re kicked to the side beneath heavy shoes. It’s not hard to guess who it is, not when you’ve been around the same two idiots for the past several months, or so. There’s a bounce in his step, much bouncier than the other— so you know it’s Gojo.

“You’re so hard to find,” Exasperated and faintly out of breath, the high ranking knight pretends to gasp behind you. “Seriously! Like some kind of.. slippery.. snake.”

“Ugh,” You hear yourself groan, nearly planting your face into the roses to save yourself from facing the knight. “That was the point.”

The white-haired man hums, mumbling something akin to ‘pretty!’ under his breath as he crouches down on one knee beside you. The gesture makes your blood boil as much as your heart flutters, fast and hard as your shoulders inch closer and closer to your ears. Getting on his knees to face you like this. . . You’re a grown man! . . . Albeit on your knees.

Gojo sits the luminescent lantern down, appreciating the quiet sound it makes as it sinks into the gravel path. So dramatic, the moon has barely begun to show, and yet, he’s carrying around a damned lantern!

“Well,” His voice is soft and quiet, as if he’s trying not to wake the tulips. Gojo’s hand, long and thin, pushes down the strain of your shoulders and smooths them out until they’re lax and rested. “It’s time for bed! And I have to make sure you get to bed safe. You know that.”

“The sun hasn’t set yet,” You stand your ground, planting your knees further into the soil despite the jolt of pain shooting straight through them. It’s childish, really. The garden isn’t going anywhere, it’ll be here tomorrow morning, and the morning after that, and after that, and so on and so forth. But it’s your safespace, if you could sleep here you would. “What’s my schedule like tomorrow?”

You’re buying time. Satoru knows he can’t object to answering your questions, he’s legally bound to you— legally bound to answer to you. And if that wasn’t enough, he was bound by an oath of blood.

“Between you and me,” Satoru leans forward, resting his hand atop his knee. His breath tickles the shell of your ear, and smells faintly of sugar cane. “Same thing as always. I don’t know how you do it! I mean, I went to school to be appointed knight. . .”

You’d meant to distract him, but really, you ended up distracting yourself. The knight’s voice is just so smooth, warm and buttery. So you listen as he explains your schedule— breakfast, fencing lessons, fitting for a new set of outerwear, more fencing lessons, lunch— it’s all the same. It’s the small peek into his life that leaves you interested, the implication that his family was wealthy enough to send him to school. That he chose the life of chivalry.

“. .I met Suguru . .We were the strongest in our division, y’know. . .”

“Satoru?” You don’t mean to cut him off, but his recurrent rambling slowly weighs down your eyelids. You turn to sit properly, gritting your teeth as you rest on your backside and dust off your scraped knees. Dirt clings anyway.

It’s clear the knight notices, but he doesn’t make an effort to say anything. Instead, he chirps in acknowledgment to your upcoming question, raising his pale hands to lightly dust away the remaining soil. He’ll have to inform someone of the infirmary division about it after you're safely asleep in bed.

“Can we— I want to sleep here tonight.” His face noticeably contorts, dimples creasing his pale, but still rosy, cheeks as he furrows his eyebrows in thought.

“Knew you’d say that,” You nearly crash straight forward into the pale man’s chest, surprise etched across your features as Suguru’s voice rings behind you. How long had he been there? The trail crunches beneath his feet, slowly growing quiet as he stops adjacent to you and Gojo. He’s holding a quilt in his hands, sturdy and warm and large, accompanied by one of your expensive silk pillows in contrast to their strung together, straw cushions. “You took my lantern, Satoru.”

“Guilty!” The other responds, as if it were a question and not a proclamation of war— courtesy of Suguru.

If the three of you end up sleeping under the stars tonight, you only have half the heart to complain.

Tomorrow comes easy.

Though you suppose, that makes it today. You were left to your own devices, having clothed and groomed yourself accordingly. Your fencing uniform wasn’t entirely traditional, though it wasn’t as if you were doing traditional fencing in the first place. Satoru and Suguru preferred swordsmanship, the art of wielding and yielding a sword against their opponent. And, sure, fighting one against two wasn’t exactly fair, but it was realistic.

Or that’s what you tell yourself to get through it.

Satoru is relentless. The man looks like he’d fall apart after being struck with a particularly heavy gust of wind, but he’s sturdier than he looks. His lean nature only adds to his agility, and going against him is like learning to walk on your feet for the first time all over again.

“Don't think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re my favorite student.” You’re his only student, you want to add, but you’re too busy dodging his sparkling blade.

You haven’t been given the pleasure of using a real one, not like Geto and Gojo do, you’re stuck with a pathetic excuse of a wooden sword. It’s kiddie and cheap in your hand, almost as if you’re holding some sort of toy, but the two insist it’s for your safety. The two are masters at their craft, nothing but the best for the prince—you suppose—they have yet to knick you with their blades.

“Or because you’re the handsomest,” His smile is smug, watching your eyes widen by the centimeter. “Isn’t that right?” It’s accompanied by a grunt, whether it’s frustration or flustered, it certainly has you wound up enough to send a wooden jab straight to his abdomen.

“Atta boy!” He chirps, charging forward to knock you over with a strong, hearty embrace. He’s warm, much thicker and plush than his training garments let on. Suguru pushes him away with a blunt elbow to the ribs, a chuckle parting his pink lips when the man scrambles to shield his side.

“Speak to me like I’m some sort of pet again and my father will have your head.” You grunt, though it’d be idiotic to say you don’t miss the warmth of his body.

That gets an unrestrained laugh out of Suguru, but it dies down before you can truly appreciate it, “My turn.” The air thickens with intensity, and suddenly the wooden sword in your hand is a brick.

“Aw, c’mon! But I’m so hungry,” Gojo’s back just as fast as he leaves, jumping on the two of you with the entirety of his mass. “Don’t tell me you want to pass up soba!”

The weight of Satoru’s body has all three of you toppling over, limbs wrapped around each other as you tumble down the small hill. Blades of grass tickle your back, through your clothing, but your face is protected by the cushiony warmth of Suguru’s chest. He cradles your head the whole way down with one hand, the other wrapped around Satoru’s waist.

You’re sandwiched between them, one heart beat for each ear as your eyes slowly crack open. Their cheeks are dusted a rosy shade of pink, featherlight and sweet as it seeps into the apples of their cheeks and travels up their cheekbones, and back to their lips. Kissable, biteable, your lips can’t help but part as you gaze at them.

There are warm palms pressing into your wrists besides your lack of resistance, and you can’t argue until it’s too late. Warm, your face prickles as a pair of lips press into the fleshiness of your cheeks. Soft like pillows and smooth like silk, it’s a tender kiss to both cheeks that you can barely register. It must look silly, you’re certain, being pinned to another while both press a ginger, heat-of-the-moment kiss to your cheeks.

(It’s scandalous to be caught kissing before marriage, let alone with your knights. But you’re to be crowned soon, and you never liked listening to your father anyway.)

So you can’t help but smile, lips upturned as a hearty, genuine laugh floats into the air and bursts like a freshly blown bubble. Just as transparent— you’re truly happy. This is yours.

They are yours.

You feel cold just from hearing it. The cool breeze of spring beating against the glass door separating your bedroom from your balcony. Large, sculpted and plated in gold handles that glint under your bedside lampshade. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with balled up fists, you’re quick to scramble out of bed. You slip off your thick blankets in favor of your robe, slipping your arms through the thin material that, really, doesn’t do much to aid your skin from the bitter cold that comes hand in hand with the midnight sky. You venture onward nonetheless, dragging the sheer, lace material behind you as you open the double doors with a quiet grunt.

“C’mon, don’t listen to him!” It’s Gojo, you can tell, the nervous smile in his voice is apparent. It echoes against the tall walls, loud and clear in comparison to the singing crickets and cicadas.

The silky tremor of his voice makes your shoulders relax in an instant, and you can’t help but peek over the sculpted balcony. The flooring is cement but the railings are cold metal, bent into flowery shapes and spiraling coils. You press your palms into the metal, leaning forward until the cold railing is pressed against your stomach.

Satoru stuffs his hands into his pockets, visibly deflating as he shakes his head. It’s hard to see his face from the angle you’re at, but you can tell his glossy lips are pulled into a tight lipped frown.

“I’m the Prince’s personal knight, all have you know!” He raises an accusatory finger toward the balcony at which you stand, and you nearly fall over when he lifts his blue-eyed gaze to meet your own. “Look! Look!”

You feel yourself leaning forward, chasing after Gojo’s dimpled smile until you’re falling fast and hard, but there’s a firm hand gripping the nape of your neck to prevent you from doing so. You nearly jump out of your skin, balling your hands into tight fists in preparation to swing, but the large hand is familiar. Warm, inviting, stern.

Suguru.

His long hair flows with the wind, blending into the inky black sky as he looks down at you through the bridge of his nose. Suguru is the scariest of the two, albeit just as goofy and sugar packed as Satoru, with narrowed eyes and knowing smirk. He’s always first to set things straight, and it’s as simple as a disapproving hum or shake of his head.

“Warn me next time,” Your voice crackles with disuse, but you swat away his guiding hand to emphasize your seriousness. Geto raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “I wasn’t scared.”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t sound all that convinced.

“Not of you anyway. For you,” You clear your throat, watching Geto stalk over to the edge of the railing. “. . .Since I’ve been training. I could’ve…Y’know, really knocked you out.”

You neglect to acknowledge that you’ve been training with him and Satoru, that they’re the reason why you know what you do.

“Right.” The stifled laugh in his voice is evident, but Suguru doesn’t bother arguing with the statement. His eyes have traveled to the box in Satoru’s pretty hands, wrapped in silky paper and tied together with a bow. Small enough to fit in his pocket, he must have fished for it when you weren’t looking. You don’t get to inspect it for long, as he’s being ushered back in before your eyes can really make-out the shape of whatever’s packaged inside.

When you see Satoru again, inside the castle this time— in your very own bedroom, he looks just as good as the day he’d left you. Though his expression is twisted— confusion (toward you) and agitation (toward Geto)—he continues to get you into your actual pajamas, laughing away the embarrassment of stripping you of your garments.

While he discards your shirt, Geto undoes your shorts from behind, eyes dancing down your thighs, your legs, your ankles, to the floor. Where your robe sits, pooling around your feet. Your back is caged against Suguru’s front, his chest pressing up against you as he leans down to press his chin into your shoulder. Warm and big, his arms snake around your waist as Satoru’s long, skinny fingers trail down your bare shoulders, your chest, your navel. . . back up.

Squirming in his hold, Satoru’s fingers circle around your nipples, watching as they harden and stiffen. Cute, soft sounds leave your lips and your head falls forward, lashes fluttering as your back slightly arches.

“I’m to be married next month,” You blurt it out before you can catch yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat as the air chills with silence. It’s thick, frozen like ice and prickles at your skin. “There’s— We’ll be holding a ball for it, and you two will come with me for my suit-fitting.” Suguru’s grip around your waist tightens, and Satoru finds himself rolling and pinching your sensitive buds with more aggression.

“Why?” It falls flat on Gojo’s heavy tongue, and Geto seems too busy burying his face in your neck to ask further questions.

“Guaranteed protection,” Your shoulders stiffen, Suguru pressing his thickening cock against your ass with a grunt of disapproval. Satoru’s face darkens, in a way that’s reserved and scary, like you’ve insulted him and his entire bloodline. “You two are. . . unfit.”

“Unfit.” It’s spoken in unison, steely and hard in a way that has your knees wobbling. You’re lucky to be between them, leaning against them for support as Suguru’s teeth sink into your shoulder. His gaze flickers upward, straight to Satoru, and before you know it, they’re pushing you into your soft bed.

“Ow!” You hiss, hands shooting to cover the area Suguru’s palm crashes against. “The fuck are you doing?!” Heat blooms beneath your fingers, but you’re not able to cover your ass for long, because Satoru’s pulling at your wrists and properly positioning your backside upward. His grip is strong, nearly bruising, as he manhandles you over both their laps and pushes your underwear to the side, fully exposing your ass.

“What your father couldn’t,” Is all you get in return, squirming and thrashing in their strong grip as Geto’s big hand strikes your ass. Your hips twitch and jolt, grinding against a hard knee that has whimpers rising in your throat. You can’t help it, they sound so good when they’re angry, so deep and gravelly. It makes you want to present, to spread your legs and stick out your tongue for their use. “It’s about time you learned some actual manners, boy.”

Satoru’s thumb rubs circles into your cheek as he coos, pretty lips parted and wet— eyelids heavy and his gaze dark as he smiles, “Goin’ floaty on us already?”

You feel your eyebrows furrow, a simple and sweet ‘shut up’ dying out on your tongue and cut short when Suguru spreads the globes of your ass with his fingertips, watching the plush skin spill and swell between his fingers. Your hole is so small, pretty and sweet as it twitches in contact with the cold air. He wants to run his tongue along it, feel it clench and pulse around his tongue until you’re crying on it, rocking your hips and pulling at his hair to feel it deeper.

“C’mere,” It’s not a request, not with the way you’re being dragged closer to the brunette. His nails dig into your soft skin, squeezing and groping until it starts to hurt, but in a way that has your voice squeaky and shaky. Satoru’s there the whole time, his hand wandering down to your throat. “ ‘Getting married’…’unfit’. . .Tch, that’s funny.”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as Gojo’s hand tightens around your throat, emphasizing Geto’s words. Your moans are strangled and tight, vision hazy around the edges as the sides of your neck are squeezed. He keeps contact with you the entire time, cerulean eyes intense and deep. You can’t help but rut your hips, pressing your front against the surface of Suguru’s thigh again and again as he lets out a series of smacks against each cheek of your ass.

“You’re not—” You whine, rolling your hips as Suguru’s fingers tap at your hole in warning, watching the cute muscle twitch. Cute, winking back at him and slick with spit. It sticks to his fingers, wet and sloppy “You’re not the boss of me!”

“Waah, waah, ‘you’re not the boss of me!’,” Satoru laughs, tacking on a nasally, prissy voice that rings in your ears and has heat pooling in your stomach. It’s hard to hide the embarrassment in your face, the twitch of your brows as you grit your teeth and roll your eyes— but it’s not like you can keep up the facade. Suguru delivers a particularly harsh slap to your sitspots, enough to make your breath stutter as tears well in your eyes.

“Geto—”

“Suguru.”

“Suguru, stop…!” You kick your legs, scrambling under their strong grip until they share a growl, rumbly and deep and demanding. It’s Gojo’s turn to paw at your ass now, squeezing the flesh as it spills between each finger and circling a slick (when did he grab lube?) digit over the sensitive, winking muscle of your rim.

His fingers slip into the mushy, warm heat with little resistance, and your face lights ablaze when the two groan at the sight, “Don’t tell me you’ve been givin’ our greedy hole attention without us?”

Theirs. Yes— you suppose— in a way it’s theirs. Strictly theirs, with the sleepless nights they’ve spent burying the thickness of their cocks deep inside, pumping one load after another deep inside so it’d really stick. Enough to feel them for days, leaking down your thighs when your needy fingers don’t stuff you a full.

You don’t have time to answer, gurgling over the moans caught in your throat as Gojo’s long fingers twist and stretch you out. You're wrapped up between them, the thickness of their bodies pressing against you as you buck your hips into nothing in particular. Satoru's long fingers feel slick with spit, only moistening as he drools down your crack. Spit falls from his tongue, slow and thick, pooling around your rim before he rubs it deeper in with his knuckles. It’s too much, tears spilling from your eyes as you whine, “S’deep, ‘Toru, go slow—”

“Oh, my prince, are you alright?” Suguru sounds almost smug, muscles in his forearm rippling as he readjusts himself in bed. His thick legs spread wide, clearly comfortable and relaxed. He has an obvious dickprint through his pants, almost shameless as your eyes pan up and down his body. “Do you need saving?”

You sniffle, wet and pathetic as you shake your head, wriggling so rest your face against your pillows, silky smooth as you soothe the burning in your cheeks. There’s a shared tutt behind you, not at all frustrated, but it has you blinking away the tears nonetheless. It goes in vain, peeking back from your shoulder you can see the two knights inching closer, their breaths fanning over your throbbing, aching hole until they share a fat lick, pink tongue lapping up at the lube and spit keeping you slick.

“I think he does, Suguru.”

Your cock leaps.

“It’s too bad we’re deemed unfit, Satoru.”

You’re greedy— and you know it. But once you’ve had both you can’t go back, not when their tongues fight to inch deeper and deeper inside your slutty hole, slick and wet and warm, impossibly deep in a way that has your toes curling and back arching. They eat you out like they’re starving, moaning vibratos through your skin until you're sobbing into your pillow. Even from here, you can feel drool and spit dripping from your sopping hole, past their chins and onto the silk sheets.

Your hands find themselves in their hair, curling into fists around soft bundles of locks as you push their faces in deeper, mewling. You can feel hot, open-mouthed kisses between each swirl and lick of their tongues, and it’s enough to make you squeal.

“M’gonna cum, gonna cum, wait—”

“No. This dick doesn’t get t’fuckin’ come unless it’s on our cocks, you hear me, Princey?” You can’t tell who’s talking— your brain is full of cotton and fog. Just like you can’t tell if you’re nodding or shaking your head, too busy focusing on the emptiness of your hole and tightening of your balls.

“No!” You hiss, trying your best to kick your feet despite the strong grip holding your thighs still. And, fuck, if you’re not a whitney mess. It’s just so good, the lewd sounds of them slurping at your hole and moaning into it, the messy sounds of their mouths on “It’s— M’so. . . achy, wanna cum! Please, Sugu? ‘Toru?”

“Alright.” It’s Gojo speaking, you can tell, because he’s got this saccharine lilt to his voice that makes your lashes flutter and heart skip. He’s moving— or moved, rather— seeing as he’s back to cupping your face with his big, pale hands. You let out a sigh of relief, shoulders drooping as you shimmy to palm at your cock, slick and weeping with pre. You’re sure your sheets are ruined.

“Aht, aht, aht!” Satoru chirps, and your heart plummets as your hand flinches away from your needy, dripping cock. He doesn’t look much better, pink fanning his cheeks as he looks down at you with heavy lids, lips shiny with spit that dribbles down his chin. From his angle his cock presses against your cheek, thick and throbbing as a patch of wetness grows through the fabric of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth.

“We said you can cum,” It’s Suguru now, with a throaty voice that’s muffled as he keeps his tongue nestled in your warmth. He could sit there for hours. “Not when or how.”

Fuck. Them. Your whines are open-mouthed and pathetic, the perfect opportunity for Gojo to slip his pretty cock into your mouth and down the tight heat of your throat. Yeah, it’s tight, bulging around his cock as drool and spit spills from the seams of your lips and bubbles and froths around his balls and shaft. It’s tighter when he buries his cock to the hilt, pressing your nose into his crystal white pubes until you’re gagging for it.

There’s a particular vein by the underside of his shaft, pulsing and throbbing on your sloppy, wet tongue the more he uses your mouth, fast and rough like you’re nothing but a toy, just with extra steps and a few snarky remarks. He’s really shut you up now, his long cock leaving a bulge behind in your throat as he fills it with salty, bitter precum. His cock is heavy.

“Fuck,” Behind you shifts Geto, who frees his cock with the zip of his fly and the pop! of a bottle. They must’ve swapped before moving, you can hear the slick squelch of warm lube sliding along the length of his pretty dick, wet and loud as he eagerly thumbs his slit. You wish you could really see it, the veins in his hands pulsing as he squeezes his shaft, obscenely pulsing and weeping in his palm. “You’re so soft and warm. Gonna fuck this cute little hole full, till your sweet boycunt’s fucked stupid.”

You and your knights share a groan, loud and obscene as Suguru’s cock stretches your hole open. He’s so big, fucking you full until you feel it in your tummy. Your toes curl deliciously, vision hazy and white as you blink back tears. His fingers, his tongue, his spit, his cock. . . It’s all too good, too skilled and perfect as it angles just right into that special, sensitive bundle of nerves. He’s so deep, sliding in with ease as your puffy hole swallows him in full.

“Look at that,” He’s rambling now, slamming his balls against your thighs as he watches his cock disappear inside. Your hole clamps down around him, convulsing and spasming along his shaft just enough to make wet, sticky sounds. “Took me in so easy, so messy. . . Sure you’re not better suited to be free-use stress relief for the people than their prince? Take what we give you and say thank you, Princey.”

“Thmmph. . .” You can’t speak with a mouthful of cock, and your eyes roll back, stuffed to the brim from both sides. Suguru’s thrusts bounce you forward, whereas Satoru’s pulls you back. You can’t think like this, full and fucked stupid as you hollow out your cheeks with hot pants and wiggle your hips. You really are easy.

“S’a good boy, sugar. Don’t think, just keep fuckin’ yourself full of cock. Muuuuch sweeter this way.” It’s the vibrations that send Gojo over the edge, his head falling forward as he whines high in his throat. His balls clench and pulse against your chin, smearing more pre and spit along your face until he’s cumming, hard and without warning. It’s thick and hot, bitter and salty, as his dick throbs in your throat and slides along your tongue, like he’s milking himself with your mouth. The white-haired man uses you like a toy, keeping you still with a hand at the back of your head as he ruts and grinds his hips, moaning with each sloppy, sticky sound of your mixed fluids getting bullied by his dick.

Your nod is mindless, completely thought free as Satoru pops the pretty head of his cock in and out your wet mouth, “M’a good boy, ‘Toru.”

You can feel Suguru’s cock twitch inside you.

“That’s right! Now say ahh!” He makes an effort to stick out his tongue, slipping free from your mouth as his cum leaks around his cock and leaves behind a trail of white. It’s mostly decorating your tongue, though, thick and creamy ropes resting on the muscle and slowly cooling.

“Ah! Ahhh!” You can’t imagine how stupid you must look, staring up at Satoru with your mouth full of his cum and threatening to dribble down your chin. With the way you bounce with each deep, heavy thrust of Geto’s fat, girthy cock. But he kisses you anyway, slow and sensual as his tongue swirls the cum around in your mouth, keeping it warm and wet.

“That’s it, good boy, princeling,” Suguru moans, hips stuttering and pupils blown wide as he watches cum froth between your lips. He can’t wait anymore, snaking his arm around your waist to grip your cock and run his slick fist along it with feverish strokes, fast enough to have you wailing. His other hand grabs Satoru by the hair, white tufts in his fist as he pulls him forward and swaps his saliva for cum, still warm. “Cum on my cock, fuck it into that pretty hole while I taste ‘Toru’. Fuckin’ earn it.”

For once in your life, you don’t have to be told twice.

You take initiative, bouncing back on the long length of Suguru’s dick with tiny gasps and moans, eyes fluttering shut as he works your cock with the twist of his fist. You’re drooling, dribbling down your neck and chin and mixing with the tears rolling down your handsome face, “Pleaseplease, give it t’me!”

“Right there? Yeah? Rolling your hips, you’re a natural.” It doesn’t take much, not when Geto’s angling his hips just right and slamming into your prostate. Not when you’re watching the two kiss, swapping your spit and Satoru’s cum around like a sweet treat. Not when you’re being fucked deep, deeper than your fingers or any other toy could reach. Not when they pause for air and take the opportunity to ramble filth into your ears.

When Geto pulls out you can’t help but wail, pushing your ass back against his shaft. Though you can’t tell if it’s because you’re close or because you’re empty, but you do know thick, sticky ropes are starting to paint the expanse of your back and ass.

You’re marked territory.

The ballroom. . . Is packed, to say the least. It’s hard to see under your mask, the eye cutouts just barely cutting off into your porcelain mask before your pupils. There’s a distinct flash of gowns, all in many different shades— periwinkle, mauve, violet, ice—glittering and gleaming beneath the candle lit chandeliers. You suppose you look no different, the material of your intricately sewn and handcrafted suit looks jaw dropping in the limelight. Golden stitches and embroidery along the pattern of your suit, draped in lace ruffles to keep you warm. Though you’re already burning from the inside out, blazing with nervousness as your trembling legs carry you into the hall.

There’s a long, intricate table that holds just as intricate gifts and snacks— custards, cookies, cakes— chocolate covered strawberries. They remind you of your knights in a way, they’ve always tasted similar. Though you suppose it’s because they’ve shared more than a couple kisses in their lifetime. Whatever the matter, you expect them to have been gone by now, with Satoru’s sweet tooth and Suguru’s unpredictable appetite.

Everyone knows who you are, but it’s hard for you to pinpoint the others in the room. Your father sits on his throne, ridiculously large and cushiony as he oversees the ballroom. It’s gorgeous, admittedly, flashy and beaming with wealth and pride. Your nervous eyes wander, scouring over the smiling, lipstick stained faces until your eyes settle on your knights, who remain glued to the exits with only half a mask covering their faces. Their suits almost match yours, less intricate and not nearly as vibrant or high quality, but the implication that you’re sharing something is enough.

Suguru stands with his arms crossed, looking intimidatingly sharp as ever, eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a flat line. His hair is in a bun, and when he turns you can see the diamonds adorning the clip holding it all in place. Handsome as always, you’re turning on your heels to face him before you know it.

Satoru is all legs, standing absurdly tall in his fitted suit. His tie is a striking shade of blue, just like his eyes, and you remember having picked it out specially for him. You can’t help but smile, floating in his general direction as soon as your eyes land on him, but. . .

“His Highness,” Your vision is obstructed for the millionth time tonight, and you can’t help the growl threatening to rip through your throat. “Could I introduce you to my daughter? Really, she’s a sweetheart, and—”

“Sorry to cut this short,” The agitation leaves your body, and glancing back up to where your knights once resided, you find the spots empty. They’re behind you, stealthy as ever, and you can’t help the smile etching away at your features. “We have very. . . important matters to discuss with our prince.”

Subtle as ever, Suguru.

You’re sure he’s glaring daggers into the women in front of you, arms crossed and biceps bulging as he pulls them apart with his eyes— dissects them to their bare essentials, leaves them feeling uncomfortable in their own skin.

There’s a hand atop yours that doesn’t belong to your knights, instead it’s much smaller and not nearly as warm. Your fingers twitch, and your smile falters just slightly as the woman’s daughter presses onward. Nearly tripping over his glass heels, her face swims through your vision until you’re backing up into the solid chest of— Satoru? It must be, it’s still soft despite the solidity, and you can see Suguru’s inky black hair in your peripherals.

“My Majesty—”

“That’s enough,” It’s straight venom, and the choice of tone reminds you of that fateful night your knights spent making sure you knew just who owned you. “Hands off.”

Their arms loop around your own, strong and firm as they pull you away. You’re thankful for the loud music, symphonies and harps dancing in the air that cover the sound of slamming doors and frantic, high pitched apologies. Your damned knights, so possessive and jealous. They know what this ball was meant for, and yet. . .

And yet they’re stripping you naked, ripping the mask free from their faces as they corners you against a wall. The party is almost as loud as it’d be had you stood in the center of the ballroom, just muffled by the locked doors Suguru kept secured with the sheath of his sword. You don’t have much time, and for once the two are happy you’d spent the previous night fucking yourself silly on your fingers, because they’ve got one goal in mind.

Marking their territory.

You’re not sure what this position is— but it makes you feel full and properly owned. Gojo's strong arms looped around the back of your knees as he holds you open on display. Suguru looks ravenous. eyes dark and steely as he watches Gojo’s cock pulse and twitch against your hole.

“S’is our fuckhole,” Satoru smiles down at you, feral and manic as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against the curve of your ass. He doesn’t seem eager to stop, lifting you off his cock and chasing that feeling of you clamping down on him— even when you’re almost too sensitive to take it. Even when you’ve barely adjusted to the stretch of his fat dick, fluttering and wailing around his pretty, veiny shaft. “Our job. . . our job, takin’ care of our boy’s pussy.”

“Think about this, boy,” Suguru groans, deep and rumbly in his throat as you’re made to watch him fist his slippery, squelching cock. “Whenever someone tries to court you. You’re owned. Your holes are owned.” He grips his cock tight, thumbing the slit and smearing precum all over the head as your own bounces along your tummy. Precum dribbles along the lace embroidery of your unbuttoned undershirt, ruining the bunched up fabric. He can’t help but jerk off watching the two of you, heavy pants leaving his lips as he fucks up into his fist, twisting his fist the closer it gets to the gland of his cock, slipping and sliding as he uses his own hand. Yours are much softer, less calloused, but you’re preoccupied. You’d have to use both hands anyway, struggling to wrap them around his cock.

“Whose are you?” And, oh, that’s an easy question. Gojo’s voice is so loud in your ear, even as you eagerly bounce on and off his cock like a sex doll.

“Yours, m’yours, belong t’you!” He makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat, groans and pants joining your moans when he speeds up, his slow and deep strokes becoming fast and hollow, pounding that sensitive spot deep inside you over and over and over. You’re fucked-out and borderline crosseyed as he pounds his dick into you, keeps you steady with his fingers locked behind your head. A string of precum connects you together, pooling at your ass and Satoru’s balls, and his hips crash down, yours convulsing upward to meet him halfway.

“Again.”

“M’yours, m’yours! ‘Toru, Sugu, m’yours! My mouth, my cock, my holes. S’yours.”

“That’s it, let me in,” He blows air out through his mouth, hot and warm as he sinks into your heat. Still tight, as if you haven’t been thoroughly fucked full of Satoru’s cock. His head falls forward, long hair falling from its bun and framing his handsome face. Your gummy walls are unmatched, and he swears he’ll blow his load if you keep squeezing down on him like this. “I know, it’s so big, just keep moaning for me, and I’ll keep pounding this hole, s’all your pretty little head can tell you to do, huh princeling?”

“Uh. . . Uh huh!”

Your crying sounds so cute, and for a moment they forget you’re a prince— not a slut. It’s pitchy in your throat and dragged out as your pretty hole eagerly takes in cock, clamping around it and sucking him deeper into your velvety walls. So good, you can’t help but rock back against it, shameless and devoid of any other thoughts as Satoru keeps his arms looped around your knees. There’s a chant of cockcockcock blaring in your head, Gojo’s cock pressed against your ass and dripping. He’d left behind thick ropes of cum, and as Suguru’s dick reaches deep inside you can hear it froth between the tiny rim of your hole and his shaft.

Your crown tips off your head, threatening to fall as you watch Satoru’s cock join alongside Suguru’s. You’ve never felt more full in your life, stretched and achy— when one pulls out the other pushes in, and you’ve got nowhere to go. The white-haired male behind you manages to grab it before it can fall, lifting your knees higher up for just a moment, and places it atop his head. You can’t protest, all you can do is drool and whine, eyes fluttering shut and hole spasming as the two take turns wearing your crown.

In a way, it’s theirs too.

“S’your favorite part, pretty!” Gojo purrs, shifting to lift your ass to and fro with each respective thrust, groaning as his shaft slides along Suguru’s veins pulsing and head weeping. He keens, high in his throat as his balls tighten for the second time tonight. You’re just too good, who’s gonna sue him for breeding you? “You get to feel our cum shoot deeeep inside! You want that, honey? To be full n’ claimed? Maybe we should walk out and show everyone how slutty you are. Those poor princesses, they have no idea the man they want likes his wet holes fucked too.”

Fuck.

“Jesus. . . Fuck, ‘Toru,” Geto groans, his balls tightening against your own as your cock spurts out rope after rope of cum, sticky and thick as it sprays along your face and unbuttoned shirt. “Never know when to shut up. Look— nngh—look at what you did.”

Satoru pulls out sloooow, and their cum gushes right out your creamy hole. They moan in unison, shaky and unstable, and the tight fit of your small hole has them both following soon after with choked up groans and whines, “Good boy, gooood boy. You take it so well.”

Your thighs shake and your throat finally gives out, your voice hoarse and tired as you squeal. You can feel each rope shoot deep inside you, thick, creamy pooling around their cocks and seeping out your puffy, used hole. Your knights huff, panting into your damp skin with sick, satisfied smiles. You’ve made a real mess of yourself— they’ve made a real mess out of you, and when you walk back into the ballroom they’re sure the smell of sex will cling to your skin. You’re claimed, thoroughly. Inside and out, and they’ll fuck you as many times as they need for others to realize it.

Satoru lets you down slowly, Suguru’s hands on your waist keeping you stable on your wobbly, jelly-like legs. Blinking away unshed tears, the two free you of your soiled garments in favor of something else, conveniently placed clothing that just happens to fit you perfectly. Had you the energy, you’d roll your eyes— they’ve planned this, in one way or another. But you don’t have the energy, not when your eyelids are heavy and drooping as you cling to their strong biceps and allow them to wipe you clean with their own sleeves.

Chivalrous as ever.

“I notified the King, my liege,” Satoru says, satirically proper as Suguru chokes on a laugh beside you. “Before leaving. Of your. . .”

“Predicament,” Suguru chimes in, the smile in his voice audible. You make an extra effort to shimmy free of their hold, face souring as they pretend they didn’t just ruin you from the inside-out. Your chest floods with warmth when they jolt forward, palms hovering over your sweaty body to catch you— just in case, “Looks like you’ll be stuck with us for the rest of the night.”

“But there’s one more thing!” Satoru scrambles to correctly zip up his pants, buttoning them back up with nimble fingers. Then, he fishes into his pockets, pulling out a small box— the one you’d seen quite some time ago— the one you’d forgotten about. Still as pristine as ever, like he’d kept it somewhere safe, he gingerly drops it into your hand.

“We got something for you,” Your eyebrows furrow. They don’t technically make money— sure, enough to keep their pockets open, but they have no need to spend it. They live with you, after all, and will continue to do so once you’re appointed king. Satoru urges you with a “shush!” before you can even speak, but you take the hint. You’re not dumb. “We couldn’t— it's not exactly a ring, but. . .”

Opening the gift— it flips open, you don’t need to unravel the bow at all— it’s a necklace. A thin, gold plated necklace with a small charm dangling from its center. The charm. . . Their coat of arms, shiny and intricate despite its small size. It glimmers in the light, sparkly like a diamond, and there are letters engraved on the flat underside of the pendant, curvy and cursive with hearts for periods. Your thumb traces the initials, the loops and curls of the letters until its shape is indented into the pad of your finger. It’s more than initials to you, it’s officiality, they are yours and you are theirs. You have the necklace to prove it, now.

‘S.G.’

If your mother were here to see this now, you’re sure she’d be jumping for joy. Happy her only child has finally found his match, has finally found something of his own. Happy her only child is marrying for love. Your father will just have to deal with it, you’ve never felt safer in your life. You don’t need a princess, you don’t need a stronger monarchy. You need your knights.

“We thought it’d suit you.” Geto finishes for his white-haired counterpart, a rosy hue painting the height of his cheeks.

It does.

#₊˚⊹♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 #jjk x y/n #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo imagine #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x you #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x y/n #satosugu x reader #geto x male reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x reader #x male reader smut #x male y/n #anime x reader #anime x male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #x sub male reader #sub male reader

[melancholymetropolis]

"Say it," Miguel O'Hara growled into my ear. "Say what I want to hear."

His larger hand gently squeezed the sides of my neck, enough to make my mouth fall open and to have me panting like a bitch in heat. My nails dug deep crescent shapes onto his forearm to steady myself. My other hand was planted flat against the control panel, right next to his. My knee was propped up onto the flat surface with my back arched against his torso. 

His hot body was colliding against mine at a rapid pace. The long girthy member tore through me quicker than the speed of light and I couldn’t think straight.

"F-F-Fuck y-you," I stammered, quivering beneath him.

A deep chuckle resonated through the massive man. "You shouldn't have said that, Y/N."

Miguel quickly spun me around to face him. He planted my ass into the edge of the control panel and hiked my legs up onto his waist. His spider suit was still partially covering his body. The top was hiked up over his lower abs, while his pants were just low enough to free his cock.

Mr. O'Hara shoved the member right back into my sopping cunt. Earning a gasp out of me. One of his hands gripped the edge of the flat surface, while the other found a new position. His right hand hooked around my back and took hold of my braids from the root. He cocked my head back at a near-painful angle, exposing my jugular. 

Miguel started to ram the member into me, faster than before. My whole body jolted and spasmed from the sheer force of the thrusts. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as hot pants fell from my mouth.

"Oh God yes!" I said, drool spilling from my lips. "Just like that!"

The new position had placed the beautiful rod of pleasure directly against my G-spot. The massive member was annihilating the spongy area every chance it got. My pussy oozed in response. It fluttered and tightened around the brooding man, earning a groan from him.

A curse fell from his lips as his thrusts became a little sloppy. Miguel was reaching his peak. It was only right after he fucked me for almost an hour straight. So much for a quickie.

The massive man slammed his hand against the flat surface and placed a searing kiss on my lips. He loosened the grip on my hair and wrapped an arm around my waist. I hooked my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Our sweaty chests were pressed together as our thighs trembled. 

Suddenly, I turned my head away from his lips, offering my neck to his. The climax was inching closer and closer by the second. My nails dug into his back, clawing the elastic fabric of his suit. His sharp teeth grazed my neck in response, causing me to shudder underneath me. 

I wanted him to bite me. To drain me while he filled me with his seed. 

But he never did.

Coward.

The climax hit my body like a wrecking ball. My entire being tensed. My trembling thighs came to a staggering halt. My nails deeper into his shoulder blades as my heels sunk into his plump ass. I had squeezed my eyelids shut and kept my mouth wide open. My face was pointing to the ceiling, I could feel the cool light gracing my eyelids. Miguel’s thrusts never stopped. He kept the dangerous pace as I clung to his body for dear life. After about five tremendous seconds, I felt like I could finally breathe.

“I’m cumming,” I gasped in one big breath. “Oh my god, I’m cumming.”

I lifted my head up and pressed it against Miguel’s shoulder. I hooked my arms firmly around his torso, wanting to be close to him. My heartbeat was hammering against his cool chest. My heavy breath fanned his ear. The man shuddered in response. His hips, also, came to an abrupt halt. His entire being tensed. Miguel’s breath hitched as warm, thick cum shot out of him. It filled my empty womb entirely. I groaned at the lustful sensation and pressed soft kisses on his neck.

His strong arms circled my plus body and held me closer than he ever had, My heart leaped from such tenderness, but I quickly shot it down. I wouldn’t get my hopes up. I knew better when it came to Miguel. Without meaning to, he always found a way to disappoint me.

“No,” I said, finally. “I will not join your spider society.”

“Oh,” he replied in shock. “That’s not what I was expecting.”  He lifted my face from his should and took my chin between his fingers. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed, Y/N.”

“Well,” I pulled away, hopping off the ledge. “Join the club.”

‐-------------------------

I know I lie more then sza but ya girl being settling into a new job.

Imma be posting soon. I promise.

#chubby!reader #plus size reader #black reader #chubby reader #sony spiderverse #spiderverse oc #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #atsv fic #atsv x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x plus size reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x poc!reader #miguel o'hara x chubby reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara angst #atsv spiderman #atsv smut #atsv angst #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman x reader

[kafkaesque22girlfriend]

The Damned Pt.6

Toji Zenin x fem!reader

Synopsis: forced to get in with the Zenin clan by your parents as a servant, Toji Zenin seemed to damn you more than himself….

smut, virginity loss

Your words died in your throat, the sheer pressure... the weight of everything that was uttered out of those scarred lips. Toji stood in front of you, waiting for your mouth to say something, or to slap him for being out of line, he refrained from putting his hands on you... for now. Once he set his mind on something, Toji was always bound to achieve it. He was nothing but an overachiever.

“Say something...” He ordered softly, his tone stern but just gentle enough to not be intimidating. He stared down at your face, analyzing each feature when he talked to you like this, how it would change, how it would flush.

You breathe out, collecting your thoughts before opening up your lips and blinking up at him. “I never thought you would want me this way.” You exhale through a strained breath. “I want you too...” Your eyes glitter with anticipation as the words just fall from your lips.

Toji's eyes darkened as you spoke, those words resounded through his entire body. You were willing and that was enough for him. You knew it was wrong. You knew you shouldn't. The consequences would be heinous... the Zenins were known for their cruelty, God knows what they'll do to you.

“Hey, don't be so skittish.….” He muttered, hooking a finger under your jaw, making you blink up at him directly into his infatuating eyes.

“Are you going to...kiss me?” You melted into his fleeting touch for a reason you couldn't comprehend, right now you felt something for him, something deep within your chest. Heartbeat hammering, body stiffening, lips parting...

Part of Toji wanted to chuckle. That naivete...he had to teach you many things. He was acting on suppressed impulse, you really shouldn't...but he wanted to.

He took a step forward and pulled you up to his lips with one arm, he saw it, that spark. Your eyes were full of lust and intrigue. Toji's lips met yours hesitantly, contemplating you, lips barely touching, noses nudging and sliding against each other...waiting for the other to make the first move. Toji couldn't take it anymore and pressed his lips against yours, you let out a muffled squeak as he kissed you, hard. Almost as if he was waiting to do it. He stole all the breath out of your lungs, his kiss was firm, yet not passionate...like he was experimenting... taking a taste test. His hand met with your jaw whilst the other was on the small of your back.

The man was truly galling in every sense of the word.

It was surprsing, but when wasn't he? He parted your lips with his tongue and you let out a soft moan, something that definitely didn't get past him, he liked that sound... he wanted to hear more of it. So pretty. So wrong.

After a moment he felt you pull back, he practically knocked the air out of your lungs. You haven't been kissed before, it was obvious by the way you were reacting. It pleased him immensely, he knew exactly what you were going to say. His temple met with yours as you regulated your soft exhales.

“Toji... I've never done this before. I don't know if-' You mutter, your breath straining in his ear. A string of uncertainty coursed through you.

“I know... You have to save your purity for your future husband. You're so ripe...so pure...I want to break you, but I'll be gentle.” Toji pulled back and looked down into your eyes, clouded with desire and lust already...he wondered if you were wet from just a single kiss. As he scanned your face, he saw your reluctance and something within him urged, to be gentle, to protect. “A good man would just leave you alone...But I'm not. I don't think I'm capable of that.” He murmured huskily, he wanted to be honest with you... but even with that, your desire didn't die down, it increased tenfold. He wasn't objectively good or bad either, but you felt he had the potential to be good. That's a thought to be reseved for later though. “I'll be gentle.”

“So you're gonna..-make love to me?” You swallow down your nerves and just ask him, blinking up at him as his fingers brushed away some strands of your hair. His touch was like liquid wildfire zipping up and down your body. You began your own heistant exploration, raising your hands up to his chest. Toji wasn't hostile for once. He always hated people touching him but this was something that he didn't mind, those gentle fingers rested on his shoulders.

Toji felt an immense heat run through his body as you said those words. The way you spoke sounded so sweet. “Yes, I’m going to make love to you..” Toji wasn't soft with women, but he felt like he owed you that, he didn't want to hurt you.

“I'm gonna undress you...” His large palms traveled up and down your sides, playing with the hem of your slip. The frabic fell at your feet. Stunning didn't even begin to cover it. His hands went to your hips, settling on top of your panties.

Toji eyed your breasts, they were a perfect pair. Your nipples were flushed and hard under his steely gaze before they flitted to your eyes. He couldn't help but awe at your form, the dip in your waist, the softness of your untouched skin

Toji liked the look in your eyes, you were curious yet still a bit timid. Too beautiful for a mere man like him to comprehend. He leaned in and pressed his lips to your temple as he cradled your face, he was sensual with his touches, almost like he wanted them to be barely there. Your soft exhales were an indicator of how much you wanted it...he was knocking the air out of your lungs bit by bit, breaking you apart little by little.

“Toji...” You whisper, your tongue forgetting how to form words other than his name, like an incantation, a prayer. Не kissed your jaw, cradling it with one hand and the sensation blossomed under your skin. His touch made your body still, all of this was so unexpected... but so inviting.

Your lips parted when he bent down and got to his knees, almost like he was worshipping something he had no comprehension of. Why were you so kind to him? Why were you just doing so much yet nothing at all? He looked up at you, heavy-lidded, watching your every feature, the crinkle of your face as he slowly shimmied down your panties. You swallowed down your initial shyness as you let out a sensual sigh. Toji bit his lip as he stared down at your soaked panties. He knew virgins got wet so easily, but this was something that he wasn't expecting. A couple of kisses and a couple of touches got you like this...God, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like when he was inside you.

“Aren't you something...” Toji chuckled under his breath. It was almost like it was an inside joke for himself. You reluctantly put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, you wanted to bury your fingers through his hair but you refrained. He leaned in and took in the scent of you. He knew that you'd smell sweet, you were like candy to the senses.

“You smell so good...Fuck, I wanna taste...” He murmured. “Come here...” He stood up and pulled you against him, kissing you deeply, gripping onto your plump ass. You gasped into his mouth and he kissed you deeper, leading you onto his bed, pushing you onto it.

“Toji.. please...I want this, I want you.” You whimper out pathetically, you were so curious of how his cock would look like. He surely had to be well endowed, the man was so overwhelming as he loomed over you, he could tell that you were in your own head, thoughts zooming about as he settled over you, keeping himself up with his palms on the bed. The bed that you slept in with him. You got a little embarrassed by how wet you were, so you close your legs bashfully.

His eyes were filled with hunger and passion. This bashfulness of yours made his desire increase tenfold.

“Hey, relax...Don't be shy, I'm not going to bite...let me take care of your needs.” His words were soft but his eyes were full of hunger and desire.

You bite your lip at his shameful introspection. Your chest was rising and falling as he tucked some hair behind your ear. You blink up at him as if he hung the stars. The sigh you left out was breathless as you open your legs to him, giving him full view of your dripping hole, contracting around nothing. It was adorable, he couldn't wait to stretch you out. “Sensitive…”

His hand stroked your blushing cheek. “It’s okay…I’m not gonna hurt you. Let me make you scream, let me prove myself to you.” You arch your back as you arch your back, he fondles your tits, pressing his fingers against your nipples, they were so hard they could cut glass. Your broken moan was just stunning to him. “Feels good…” Your body was art.

“I know baby, I know it does.” He then began to move his hands inbetween those plush thighs. Your pussy was crying out to him, so wet, he watched as the arousal slipped out of you.

He wanted to eat you out until you came all over his face, but he wanted to start gentle now.

You blink up at him, your hand sliding up his shirt as an idicator that you wanted it off, he stares down at your ministrations, amused by how you wouldn’t blatantly ask him to strip. Such a considerate girl. He read your mind and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the layers of rippling muscles that you still haven’t grown accustomed to even after watching him train. His arms were so big, his palms, his chest, his bicep…They were littered in small scars but his skin was soft.

Toji paused as he saw your intent exploration of his skin. He wouldn’t let something like this slide but for now…he was just as curious as you. “Your skin is soft.” Was all you could muster out, and the compliment took him by surprise.

Fuck. That blush of yours could send a man to his knees. Your lips…He doubts you’ve ever seen a cock before let alone sucked one. He would teach you in time, but for now, he wants to get you ready for him.

He kisses you again, your tongues meshing against one another with soft moaning and wet sounds accompanying you both. You tasted like fruit, like plenty…like longing. Like everything good in the world melted onto such a pretty mouth. Your tongue tentatively explores his mouth, he tasted like mint toothpaste and the faintest hint of…oranges? But then again those flavours didn’t matter because he tasted like Toji.

“Toji…hands…” You murmed against his lips and he knew you took a liking to his hands, he propped and arched your body upward into him as he kissed and felt up your body. He loved these pretty tits, he’d suck on them all day, those pretty flushed rose buds were perfect. He sucked on your nipple, swirling it with his tongue as the other twesked its twin. He would mark you up another day, for once he won’t be a brute. Just once.

You moaned lightly, careful not to be too loud to raise suspicion or wake people up. Toji smirks as he lets go with a pop. “You taste like light…” He breathes and you didn’t really understand what he meant by that.

You tasted like everything pure and good in the world. You tasted like light. Light casted onto his world of darkness.

He whine and coo on the bed, savouring every second of this moment, your mind still wasn’t able to wrap your head around it. His hand slipped between your thighs and onto your pretty pussy, teasing you with barely there touches. “I’m gonna put these inside you now…” He whispers into your ear. “Take it for me baby…Please, I need to learn your body…Will you let me?”

“Yes…” You nod feverishly as his hot breath was like an aphrodesiac. He slipped one finger into your dripping hole, it was so cute and tight, but needed to stretch you out further. You gasped and jolted at the feeling, letting it sink in. “So warm.” He rasps, but he notices you srunch your face up in uncertainty. “Hey, relax your body for me…You’re so tight you’re gonna break my fingers.” He chuckled but his voice was warm and reassuring. You sighed and let your body relax, letting the pleasurable sensation spread and tingle down your thighs.

“No one’s ever touched you like this…” He murmured to himself, absolutely adoring the fact he would be your first. “No one’s been exploring you…that’s such a shame.” Toji’s fingers stretched you out a bit more, your pants and sighs of elations spurring him on. “What happens when I press…here..” His thumb pressed your throbbing clit, his sensual voice resounded throughout your whole body and your moan was unstoppable. “Men must throw themselves at you…They must break their spines for just one look at you…” Toji leans in and whispers hotly in your ear but his tone was cold.

“Toji…I’m ready…Please.” You gulp as his penetrating eyes stare you down, most of the time you felt you were invisible, lurking around like a ghost…but Toji saw you, he wanted to see you. To acknowledge your existence.

Toji took those words in like scripture and leaned up, taking off his boxers and sweats, what was revelead made your eyes widen. His cock was huge. He was hung, it was girthy and thick. The prominent veins were what excited you the most. He was hard, painfully so and a little bit of precum settled on his tip. That look on your face, he wanted to smear his cock all over it and blow his hot cum all over your face. The idea made him grunt. “Look at how hard you make me…”

Your jaw went slack when you try to comprehend how that’ll even fit inside of you. “Toji…how will that-“ You gasp softly. There’s no way he could fit. He saw you squirming and he held your legs still.

“Don’t run away from it…” His tone was authoritative but gentle all at once, women must be melting at his feet to hear him talk like that.

He slapped his length at the bottom of your stomach, measuring how deep he’ll be inside of that tiny little pussy. The soft plap made you coo, you played with your nipples as he shuffled through his drawer. You gape curiously as he takes out a condom. “I’d love to fuck you raw, make that pretty cunt drool with my cum…but…” Toji didn’t even had to finish that sentence.

Then you realised, you’re really doing this. Losing your virginity to your master.

He ripped off the condom packaging with his teeth and rolled it on, it didn’t even reach halfway. The thought only set off another spark in you. His fingers spread your cunt open, watching how it contracted around nothing, just begging to be filled. You were so wet, it made his cock throb painfully.

“I’m going to put it in.” He nudged the tip of his cock, plapping it against your pretty pussy. “Tell me if it hurts or you want me to stop.” He said softly, that itself surprised Toji. He was never considerate for women he fucks, most of them where sluts and whores he finds a way to sneak into the compound. He didn’t care for them. But oddly enough…he didn’t want to hurt you. “Be good for me and relax, baby.” He kissed your lips again and snatched a bit of your own soul out too.

You nod fervently and do as he says. You spread your legs wide, brushing away the shyness and embarrassment and let them rest around his waist, his touch felt good, you were excited to feel his cock inside of you.

You grab onto his shoulders and gasp breathlessly as he slowly inches his way in, the intrusion was…warm and you could quite literally feel yourself stretching out. “Ah-“ You grunted out with a wince, he watched your reaction as he went in further, he wasn’t even halfway yet and he knew it stung. He raised his eyebrow and you know that he was asking for confirmation.

“More…” You whisper out, clouded in a haze, it hurt a bit but once he nestled deeper inside of you, touching your g-spot…all you felt was a sense of pleasure. He nudged his cock against your cervix and it made him smile.

“You’re taking it…That’s a good girl.” He complimented slyly, it surprised him to see you take it like such a champ. Toji bit his lip when he saw the bulge in your belly, it made him want to bust on the spot. “So full of me…” He whispers against your lips. “I’m going to start moving now…”

“Please! Please move…” You moaned, digging your fingernails into the skin of his shoulders.

Toji stared to move in and out of you, your body jolting and squirming up and down the bed. He was literally stretching you put with every thrust, your little hole tightening around him. Your mouth was open, moaning and hiccuping with every thrust, those soft sounds were the sweetest symphony. *Hic* *Hic* *Hic*

You screw your eyes shut snd arch your back further as he thrusts into you, his hand holding your waist while the other held your thigh. Toji leaned into your neck and groaned, peppering your skin with small kisses and suckles. “You’re gonna suck the soul out of me, sweetheart.” He mumbled, you were practically vaccumed sealed to his dick.

“Open your eyes baby…Look at me while I��m taking you.” He grits out. You open your eyes and blink up at him blankly, dumbed out by his massive cock splitting you in half.

That expression. He wanted to cum all over it.

Out of desperation and some sort of vice, you lean in and seek for his lips. His kiss was deep and sloppy, tongues finding tongues. Exchanging sweet spit. “You feel so good…” You cry out, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes. It was so much and you were greedily taking all of it. “Am I doing okay…?” You whisper out, trying to gauge how your performance was.

Toji smiled, liking how you were keen for his praise and opinion. “More than okay. You’re driving me insane…Squeezing me so tight, taking me so good sweetheart…” He praised in that low sultry tone of his. You let out a sigh of relief and gave him a weak, lazy smile. Your blush increases and heats your face even more.

As he continued his thrusts, your moans were becoming more and more loud, you bit your first to conceal them. Your eyes gleamed and sparkled in the night as he kept pounding you rhythmically, but his pace began to change into something faster. He enjoyed the white ring settling at the base of his cock, his balls were so heavy he needed to blow his load soon. You were so wet, it was just oozing out of you, this provided good lubrication for him to just keep reaching deeper. Your belly bulged when he moved his cock in and he definitely enjoyed that.

When you lock your legs around his waist, he knew you were done for. You were so close, your pussy was squeezing around him so tightly. “I’m gonna…I’m…” Toji hushed you with his thumb as they brushed against your lips, his pried them open and his thumb settled into your mouth. You sucked and licked at it out of pure instinct and he could feel that resonate with his cock.

“I know baby…” He growled. Your soft breathless cries landed sweetly on his ears. Your body tightens and tenses up as that warm feeling in your gut threatens to snap. “Squeeze around me, cum for me…”

“Oh my God…Ah.” Your whines got more and more desperate until you couldn’t handle the pressure anymore, with a whimper you finished, letting yourself release onto him passionately. Toji watched with intenful eyes as your body convulsed, he msde you fall apart, the amount of cum you released made a puddle form in front of him. It oozed and dripped out as you lay there limp and panting, eyes clouded in haze.

The sight broke him completely, he grit his teeth and before he finished, he pulled out and ripped the condom off and released thick ropes of hot cum onto your tits, coating you entirely. Your mouth popped open as you gaze at him in awe as so much comes out, you coo as it lands onto your sensitive nipples, biting your lip as you blink up at him.

You both stare at each other panting. Gazes intent and curious all at once, like you were both coming to terms with what you’ve both done. Your glossy eyes daren’t waver as a moment of silence settled between you.

You couldn’t help it.

Leaning in at the exact same time, you kissed. Passionately, rawly, like nothing else existed. Your tears fell down your cheeks and he whiped them away with his thumb.

Nothing else existed.

Not the Zenin Clan.

Not anything else.

Just the two of you.

-

i’m sorry this took forever to get out, I wanted to make this a good one. Be warned angst in the future. I’M SORRY I CAN’T HELP MYSELF.

Taglist (mwah!) @wo-ming-bai @xduskydollx @chilichopsticks @maskedpacific @kaizxnx @gojoslefttoenail @idreamitski @miraes-world @misscats-mha @niss2mpm @taylorazureeee @sweetteez @21aurora

#jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #toji angst #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x y/n

[yourmaximoff]

Smooth Criminal

Summary: Is it possible for the dreaded serial killer Scarlet Witch to be just a woman you met at a disco?

Paring: Serialkiller!Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings: (+16) Kisses, warm touches, implicit sex, knife play (light), drink spiking, and implicit murder.

Words: 3k

A/N: Happy Halloween with Femme Fatale Wanda, literally. x.x

(English is not my first language, sorry for any translation errors)

𓆩♡𓆪

The rain, calm and cold, hammered incessantly against the windows of the distant nightclub on a Halloween night. Each drop left a translucent trail, distorting and diffusing the vibrant colors of the dance floor that shone inside the club.

The darkness inside the nightclub, as dense as pitch, was pierced and illuminated by a mirrored metallic sphere suspended in the center of the dance floor. As the mirrored ball spun slowly, the reflections and beams of light were dispersed throughout the club, painting the walls and people with a sea of vibrant colors.

Your mind was far away while your gaze was fixed on the half-full glass in front of you. Your tedious and weary fingers slid along the edge, creating a sharp and slightly uncomfortable sound. Your wandering gaze seemed to take a different course when a mysterious female figure in a coat and hat walked through the nightclub's door and was reflected in the glass. Your eyes soon shifted from the glass to the woman, who was now removing her partially wet coat and hat.

Blonde hair, short and delicately wavy, swayed gently as she took off her hat. Her eyelids, adorned with a soft touch of silvery glitter, and her lips painted with a soft, rosy gloss, looked like a charming work of art framing her oval face.

She gently slid her hands down the front of her unbuttoned overcoat, shook her shoulders, causing the coat to fall, revealing the stunning black sequin dress hidden beneath it. Leaving the coat and hat with the receptionist at the luxurious nightclub, she entered the flourishing sounds of the 80s and 2000s.

Her hips swayed to the rhythm of the 80s music in the background as she made her way toward the dance floor. The blonde exuded an air of confidence, a seductive look, as if she knew she could kill anyone with just a glance.

By a twist of fate, just as Madonna's 'Hung Up' began to play on the speakers, she looked directly at you. Her body was positioned right in the center of the dance floor, and her eyes were fixed on you, as if she knew you had been watching her since she arrived. Her intense gaze seemed to read your mind, to see through your soul. However, a simple wink and a smile transformed her intimidating look into an invitation.

The music started with its characteristic melody, and the blonde gracefully glided across the dance floor. Her arms and feet moved in rhythm with the others around her. However, even in the midst of so many people, she was the one who caught everyone's attention, seeming to command the minds of everyone around. It was as if she were the queen, and everyone around her were just subjects imitating her movements, much like Madonna herself.

Infected by the addictive beat of the music and her charms, you let yourself be carried away. You allowed yourself to be controlled by her gaze alone. Without knowing her name, her past, her sins, in just a few minutes, you were already by her side, imitating her moves, dancing with the same enthusiasm.

Her shoulders flowed in perfect harmony with the music's beat, while her arms sought to get as close to you as possible. Her radiant smile remained unshaken on her carefully painted lips, just like on yours. Her excitement was palpable, a surge of adrenaline pulsing through her veins, the same adrenaline she was so addicted to feeling.

The rhythm and dance of the people around dissolved as another song began to play. The choreography she had led gradually scattered, with people jumping and dancing randomly.

Stepping back, with the rhythm still pulsing through her veins, she leaned against you. You felt your already racing heart quicken further with the scent of strawberries in her hair, as her hips moved backward, purposefully brushing against your front.

As she whispered the lyrics of the song with her eyes closed, you felt that this was the silent permission you needed. Slowly and delicately placing your hands on her waist, you heard a moan escape her lips, along with a slight movement, pressing even closer to you.

A wave of heat coursed through your body, the countless dance steps leaving you tired, yet her energy seemed to overflow into you. It was so strange to see someone so joyful and energetic. You could feel the adrenaline running through her body, as if she were in ecstasy.

Placing her hands on yours, she slid on the tips of her heels and positioned herself face to face with you, not allowing you to remove your hands from her waist. For a few moments, she seemed to get lost in thought, staring directly into your eyes with those sparkling emeralds. The background music sounded muffled, and her hands, now on your shoulders, began to apply gentle pressure with her sharp, long nails.

When she was sure of what she wanted, she smiled at you, and her intense gaze softened. You didn't quite understand. It was as if, for a moment, she wasn't the same enthusiastic woman who had been dancing. Did she seem like someone else? But all the questions were pushed aside when she began to draw closer.

Her hands slid behind your neck, while your hands firmly held her waist, bringing her closer. When your lips touched, and you tasted her lip gloss, the same adrenaline from the dance coursed through your veins.

Your chest pounded strongly as you savored the sweet, slightly tangy taste of her breath. Her tongue, entering your mouth and being met by your own shy tongue, seemed hungry for you, exploring every bit with overwhelming desire. However, when a new song began to play, her hand slid from your neck to your hands before she backed away and disappeared into the crowd.

The entire nightclub was immersed in deep darkness, with the only source of light being the silver disco ball that illuminated the bodies in the middle of the dance floor. Looking around and passing through the people, you truly lost her. She seemed to vanish as if by magic.

Giving up on searching for her and accepting that this was a one-night affair, or rather, a single dance, you made your way to the small bar. A bit disappointed that she had disappeared but happy that you had at least kissed someone as beautiful as her.

With a familiar gesture, the bartender slid another drink across the bar to you. A bit of alcohol in your bloodstream would help calm your thoughts, especially your racing heart. Turning half the glass in one go and tapping it gently against the bar, you focused your attention on the small television attached to the ceiling.

"The criminal Scarlet Witch has escaped from the police, leaving numerous dead and injured in her wake last night," said a woman holding a microphone, as images of a sort of crimson red crown spray-painted on gray brick walls appeared on the screen. "She is on the run, and the reward for any leads is $30,000. Any information should be reported to 911 or the nearest police station."

A shiver ran down your spine. The mere possibility of a serial killer in the vicinity truly made you wary of venturing out alone on the streets.

The scent of strawberries emanating from the newly acquainted blonde's hair filled your senses once again. You glanced away from the news to the blonde woman, who was waiting for her drink just a few stools away.

You could feel those green, almost golden eyes slide to the corner of her own eyes, discreetly looking in your direction. You were so mesmerized that you barely noticed when the bartender placed two glasses in front of her.

A sly little smile formed on her face as she turned her attention back to the two glasses in front of her. The blonde downed one of them in one go, letting out a satisfied moan, while she simply picked up the other with her hand and left the bar, almost disappearing again into the crowd.

But this time, you wouldn't let her escape. Those eyes seemed to invite you to something, and you were curious enough to want to find out what. You followed the shimmer of that black sequin dress, which reflected silver against the metallic ball in the center of the dance floor.

Her hips swayed seductively, as if she knew you were following her. It seemed like she was fully aware that you were enchanted by her, as if there was a cunning plan in her mind that you couldn't even imagine. You had no knowledge of her true intentions, the side that revealed itself when the music pulsed through her veins or when she identified someone as delicious as you.

You lost sight of her for a moment, but when you found her, the situation was so painful that you decided to stop following her. A tall brunette girl took the drink she held in her hands and then kissed her passionately, as if in a movie.

You thought she really wanted another dance with you, but apparently, she was interested in someone else. With a sigh, you turned around and returned to the bar, drowning your senses in any sweet cocktail. You weren't much of a drinker, and even less prone to getting emotionally attached so easily to someone, but you felt that she was truly special, or something cliché like that.

Those intense green eyes fixed on you, sitting alone at the bar. Wanda needed to find out if you were different, she needed to test. Remembering Peggy's lips, the girl who had just fallen under her spell, she realized that she wasn't wrong about you. You truly had something different, something Wanda certainly didn't feel with anyone, let alone with Peggy.

Peggy was already beginning to feel dizzy, not only from the effects of the spiked drink but also from the heat that was taking over her body due to Wanda's touches. She longed to relieve this tension that seemed only possible with Wanda. As if reading Peggy's thoughts, Wanda held the girl's hand, and the two of them made their way through the crowd in the nightclub towards the restroom.

All the people around were drunk enough to not remember "who the mysterious blonde was who had last had contact with Peggy when she was still alive."

𓆩♡𓆪

"Can I buy you a drink?" Like an angel, a soft, deep voice slid from your right ear to your left. A glass filled with alcohol was gently pushed in your direction.

"Only if I know your name," you say, turning your gaze to her. Even though you had never heard her voice, you felt that it was her.

"If that's your price," she says, picking up the glass in front of you with her hand. "My name is Wanda," she says before downing half the liquid in the glass. Then she places it on the table and slides it toward you. "And yours?"

You look at the glass as the name "Wanda" smoothly slides through your mind. She was so mysterious, so intriguing, and that glass seemed strangely delicious after she had placed her lips on it. Her eyes sparkled, and she couldn't contain her wide smile as you turned the glass completely. It was confirmation that you would let yourself be led by her.

"S/N," you sigh, feeling the thick, icy drink slide down your throat like fire.

In seconds, Wanda was already standing by your side. Her black, glossy nails slid over your neck, leaving red traces before tangling in your hair. You slowly turned your head in her direction and were greeted by her sweet, full lips.

Wanda slowly turned the bar stool toward her. Her knee positioned itself between your legs like a support on the bench. This time, the kiss was gentler and slower, her lips perfectly fitting into yours, while her nails scraped and played with the hair at the nape of your neck.

When your hands clasped her waist and your tongue entered her mouth, she allowed herself to slide her knee forward, coming dangerously close to the warm, moist valley between her legs.

You moaned in response to the kiss and tightened your grip on her waist as you felt her gently touch the sensitive area between your legs. That bare and delicate knee, lightly brushing against your already drenched panties, sent an electrifying wave of heat. You desperately desired her, and she was well aware of it.

With small, sweet pecks on your lips, she squeezed your thigh with one hand, while the other made sure to interlace your fingers. Wanda removed her knee from the chair and made a gesture to pull you, to take you somewhere. Completely intoxicated with desire and craving more of her, you allowed yourself to be led.

As soon as you crossed the bathroom door, a firm hand pushed you against the door itself. Your breath caught in your throat, your tongue touching the roof of your mouth, and the taste of gloss invading your lips. Kisses slid from the mouth to your neck, while perfectly painted glossy black nails began to scratch the sensitive skin of your thigh.

Numb from the kiss and the drink that was starting to churn your stomach, you held firmly behind her head, intertwining your hand in her hair as she explored your neck. She made sure to leave a mark on every inch of exposed skin on your neck that the clothing didn't cover.

Wanda slid one of her hands over your stomach, feeling and searching for the location of your womb through the fabric of your dress. As she continued to kiss your neck, making your body tremble and become a hot mess, she removed her best friend, a sharp red and black switchblade, hidden on her thigh beneath her sheer stockings.

Michael Jackson's 'Smooth Criminal' echoed muffledly behind you as you were still pressed against the door. A deep sigh escaped your throat when you felt a sharp pain crawl over your stomach's skin. The wet sensation of Wanda's lips on your neck and her delicate bites tried to distract and confuse your mind. However, the stomach pain was so intense, and the sensation of something wet dripping was so present, that you tried to look down. But Wanda, with her delicate hand, quickly held your chin and raised it again, making you face her.

Wanda pressed her lips against yours once again, trying to distract you from the pain that was starting to become almost unbearable, and it seemed to really work. While you thought it was just a common stomachache, or that Wanda was scratching you again with her nails, you placed both hands on her neck. It was as if you were drunk and needed more of her lips. You felt such a strange connection with her that, if she were to disappear again, you would remember the taste of her well in your memory.

Wanda smiled against the passionate kiss. Her hand left your chin and started holding your still waist, while the other hand worked to leave her mark, or rather, the crown that had appeared on the news minutes before, with a switchblade on the delicate skin above your womb.

𓆩♡𓆪

The small ceiling shower, turned on and gushing water, provided comforting warmth to your body, which was dealing with a painful hangover. You woke up alone in this roadside motel room, with a glass of water and a pill on the table next to the bed.

You weren't accustomed to going out at night with strangers, let alone going to motels, but you really didn't want to keep things between you and Wanda confined to that small bathroom in the nightclub. Sighing, you remembered Wanda. Now, you felt like you would never see her again in your life. At least you had an unforgettable night with her, and that was enough... or so you liked to think to comfort yourself.

Sliding your hand over your abdomen, you felt a burning pain as a small stream of water dripped from the tips of your fingers directly onto a sensitive spot on your stomach. You felt a shiver run down your spine. Without turning off the shower and without caring about the water droplets running from your naked body, you quickly headed for the mirror in the room.

Standing right in front of the mirror, you fixed your gaze exactly on your womb, where there was a sort of crown embedded in your skin. It seemed to be something deeper than a simple tattoo and definitely burned as if it had been cut.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, trying to organize your thoughts. Everything seemed confusing, especially because you recognized the mark on your skin that had been shown in the news at the nightclub. Feeling a strange wave of fear and distress, you sat on the bed behind you, not caring about completely wetting the covers. It was like a punch, a punch so strong that you felt relieved to be alive.

Of all the victims, you were the only one to come out alive. You were the only one who didn't trigger a psychotic impulse in her when the music flowed through her veins. You were different, special, and unintentionally became her favorite prey.

Wanda, or rather, Scarlet Witch, left her mark on you, a mark for you never to forget her. Her little declaration of love, stamped in the form of a crown over your womb, was a small sign that she would come back to you.

#Wanda maximoff #Wanda smut #Wanda x reader #Wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff smut #Wanda maximoff fanfic #marvel imagines #halloween

[vecnuthy]

Steddie western au that I might turn into a little multipart something || wc: 846 ||

Steve knew that going to the stream was stupid. The last drop of water had fallen from his canteen to his tongue eight hours ago, though, and the desert sun was ruthless in its gaze.

This land was difficult and unforgiving. It bred people who were cut from cloth as soft as suede but embedded with glass shards, and Steve had been cut so many times. His body and soul bore the scars from his father, his mother, his former fiancée, his former friends that either wanted him to be something he wasn't or tried to force a change onto him. People did what they could to make it, but Steve refused to accept those terms and vehemently stood against those conditions. And they knew it. Knew he was a good guy. Knew they could push him, provoke him, that he'd eventually bite back, wrap his own shard-flecked scarf around their neck and pull if necessary. Steve had lost too many fights, but he'd started winning them, too.

The tracks on the ground weren't terribly fresh, compared to what he and Wendy left in their wake, but something felt off to Steve. Stopping there would mean life, could mean death, but not stopping certainly lead to death.

"We'll be quick, girl," he muttered to his horse as he dismounted, pushing aside the sense of unease in his stomach.

His hands dipped into the babbling brook ahead of Wendy, then he drank. Deeply. Felt the cool water go all the way down his throat and crash into his empty stomach. He made the next handful splash over his face and sighed in relief, breathed in the smell of scrubby grass and dirt.

The cloth around his neck came off, and he dipped it into the water. The wind was warm and dry, but it sent a chill through him as it licked at the sweat-soaked hair against his neck. He tied the rag back on, eyes sweeping the land and seeing nothing but the trees along the water then vast openness beyond.

Steve grabbed a piece of jerky and his canteens. Wendy grazed as he filled them and chewed.

It was quiet. Water gurgled. Wendy's hooves crunched grass. She shook her mane and seemed at ease.

It felt off with no evidence as to why.

They couldn't stay there, he knew that. Shouldn't linger, he knew that. But his bladder was heavy. He took the pistol from his holster, cocked the hammer, saw Wendy's head pick up at the sound. She watched him move toward the evergreens.

Her hooves shuffled.

Steve stopped, the pistol raised at nothing. At anything.

It didn't feel right.

He only moved forward once Wendy's head dropped back down to the grass. He stopped once he reached a tree and listened hard for several moments.

Nothing.

Pistol still ready, he undid his belt buckle and started to undo the front of his pants to relieve himself.

Click

He froze, blood running colder than the creak behind him at the unmistakable mechanical click of a hammer.

Steve turned his head to the side, eye to eye with the cold black barrel of another's pistol. His heart rabbited in his chest, breath coming fast. He only saw the person's hand at first because the rest was still hidden behind the tree. Steve dedicated a split second to noticing the black letters on their fingers before his instincts kicked into overdrive, and Steve knocked the gun away. A resulting shot rang out, but Steve held on to the guy's wrist, snapped his own pistol in front of him, and darted around the tree, only to be met with an apparent second gun and two big brown eyes pointed directly at him.

"Don't," the other man bit out. The lower part of his face was covered by a black bandanna, but his eyes were hard, determined.

"Why not?"

Steve couldn't help but cringe at his less than ideal position. His gun in his left hand touched the guy's chest. His assailant's right arm pressed his own gun against Steve's cheek. Steve dug his thumbnail into the guy's left wrist, which probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it gave Steve a sense of satisfaction in how he winced in pain.

"I'm not the one who pulled the gun. All I wanted was water and to take a le--"

"What allegiance do you have to the Harringtons?"

Steve's face twisted in confusion and annoyance. Why would this guy be asking about his parents?

"The mark on your horse," he clarified gruffly.

Steve clenched his jaw. Wendy's flank still had the family's symbol painted on her.

"None at all. She was the only thing worth taking."

The man studied him, searching his face for something, then his eyes grew bigger. "You're the son," he said himself, clarity painting his voice.

Steve continued to stare the other man down, saw how his sharp eyes crinkled -- he was smiling. Heard it in his voice when he asked low and dangerous, enticing, "Want some revenge?"

Revenge.

Yes. Steve wanted revenge.

#whatEVER could the revenge be for 👀 #steddie au #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #i really should start posting on ao3 shouldn't i

[elyvorg]

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

[theabstruseone]

'TIL a papyrus scroll indicates that, during the building of the tomb of Pharaoh Ramses III, the workers were upset about their treatment and, rather than discussing it with them, management served them a large meal.

'The workers didn't think that was enough so occupied the Valley of the Kings refusing entry to anyone until they were given a raise and "cosmetics" (research shows it was a form of sunscreen).

'So not only does workers organizing a strike and forming a picket line for better wages and workplace safety conditions date back TO THE FRIGGIN' BRONZE AGE, but also management has been trying to placate discontented workers with a pizza party.'

And then that went viral on Twitter and I got hammered with people trying to "Well ackshually" about my three-tweet-long thread on a thing I'd learned just that morning I turned into a joke about corporate pizza parties. So I decided to research and here's the entire story.

TL;DR: I was pretty much right except it'd be closer to say "donuts/cupcakes in the breakroom" rather than "pizza party".

The events took place sometime around 1157 BCE (specifically the 29th year of Ramses III’s reign) in the village of Deir el-Medina, a worker village for the people who worked on the built the tombs in the Valley of the Kings.

BTW, the site itself is fascinating as it was first excavated in 1922 and ended up being one of the most thoroughly documented accounts of community life in the ancient world and proved the builders of the Pyramids were middle-class skilled artisans and craftspeople, not slaves.

You also have to know that this era of history is around the start of what’s known as the Bronze Age Collapse. Some sort of environmental catastrophe happened that caused widespread crop failures across the ancient world.

Now what precisely happened is strongly debated, but generally several groups from elsewhere in Europe and Africa known as the “Sea People” attacked the ancient civilizations of the Mediterranean, which caused most of those cultures to collapse.

Also, commerce was a bit different as they were (oversimplified explanation) on the bread standard. Salaries were measured in values of beer and bread as the recipes for those were standardized and made up the basics of the diet.

So while common laborers would be paid in literal beer and bread, more highly-valued workers would be paid in an equivalent of a larger allotment of beer and bread. So they’d get paid “100 loaves a day” worth of oil or metal or coin representing the value.

Now, for our tale. This comes from the contemporary account of the scribe Amennakhte. If anyone wants to read along, a photo of the scroll along with a translation is available to read for free at https://libcom.org/article/records-strike-egypt-under-ramses-iii-c1157bce

On Year 29, Second Month of Winter, Day 10, a group of workers walked past the guards and sat at the Temple of Menkheperre stating it had been 18 days since they’d last been paid, staying the night in the tomb saying “We have matters of Pharaoh”.

The following day, a scribe brought the workers 55 “s'b-cakes”. So yes, a “pizza party”. I can’t find any reference to what this is precisely other than “fine bread” that was worth more than a large loaf of standard bread.

Seriously, I wasted an hour of my life trying to figure out what “s'b-cakes” are exactly so if anyone knows please tell me.

Anyway, it didn’t work and there was “quarrelling” at the temple of Ramses II. The translations says “chief of police” which doesn’t seem quite right but I’ll go with it, but anyway he said he’d fetch the mayor of Thebes.

The mayor claimed they didn’t have enough to pay. The workers responded by saying “The prospect of hunger and thirst has driven us to this. There is no clothing, there is no ointment*, there is no fish, there are no vegetables.”

They then said to go tell it to the Pharoah directly. On Day 12 (the day following the “quarrelling”), they were given their ration they were due during the previous month (basically, they got their back pay). It was 21 days late.

Side note: I got some pushback by an “Egyptologist” for calling the “ointment” a type of sunscreen and…yes, it was. Some translations mark this as “cosmetics” but it was a medicinal balm used to prevent and treat sunburn. What the hell else would you call it?

So Day 13 (the fourth day of the strikes) and Mentmose, the “chief of police”, apparently took a side. He told the workers to lock down the work site and continue their protests, and that he’d lead them to the temple to continue the sit in.

His words (recorded by Amennakhte): “I’ll tell you my opinion. Go up, gather your tools, close your doors, fetch your families, and I’ll lead you to the temple of Seti I and let you settle down there.”

At this point, the tax master Ptahemheb came out to talk to them making a list of all the things they demanded. On Day 15 (sixth day of the strike), they tried another “pizza party” with half a sack of barley and a jar of beer for each worker.

Amennakhte doesn’t say what their response was exactly, but does say that the workers brought torches so they could continue the protest in the dark. So I take it the response wasn’t good.

Day 17 (eighth day of the strike), the head of the temple came out and asked what demands to bring to the Pharoah for them. And they gave a detailed list of what precise wages they wanted for each of the workers.

On that day, they were given what they asked for in rations for the second month of winter. They may have also been paid early as they should have been paid on the 21st or 28th day depending on the source.

So we’re now in the third month of winter (no exact date written) and they’re still striking. Worker Mose said basically “As Amun as my witness if you drag me away I will come back and start robbing the tombs.” I couldn’t fit the whole thing in one tweet.

Reshpetref, the proctor, said “We will not come back, you can tell your superiors that. For sure, it is not because of hunger that we strike, but we have a serious charge to make. Something bad has been done in this place of the Pharoah”.

We’re on the fourth month of winter now, Day 28 (so over three months of striking now) before the Vizier shows up. This is the government official that handles day-to-day business and is second only to the Pharoah.

He says he just got promoted so isn’t authorized to give them their wages (at least partially true, he’d just been promoted five days prior) and even if he could, there was nothing in the granaries to pay them with.

The granaries may have been empty because of the other issues going on with the Bronze Age Collapse or it may have just been the rampant corruption speculated of the government of the era, or he may have been lying.

On the first month of summer Day 2, the crew got two sacks of grain as their ration (they’d demanded 5 ½ sacks each). The foreman Khonsu told them accept it, then go down to the market and tell the Vizier’s children about it.

Amennakhte (who again, is writing this scroll) stopped them and said NOT to go to the market since they’d been paid and if they did, he’d have to have them arrested. He doesn’t mention they were only paid a third of what they were owed.

First month of summer, Day 13, passes the guard post saying “We are hungry” and continued their sit in. They shouted at the mayor of Thebes as he passed, who then got them 50 sacks of grain to tide them over until Pharoah paid them.

That’s the end of this particular scroll, but there’s evidence that strikes continued throughout the reign of Ramses III as there are records of more workers being hired to transport food and supplies to the workers.

The scroll also leaves out some of what happened in between dates. For example, it wasn’t one single long strike, but a series of them. After they were paid their wages the first time, the workers went back to work.

However, they were told that was their pay for the third month of winter and not the second so they wouldn’t be getting paid again, sparking the second strike that lasted into summer.

There’s also a big deal in Egyptian culture at the time called “Ma’at” or basically “The Order of Things”. Nobody had any idea what to do with the striking workers because workers weren’t supposed to strike. They were supposed to work.

Sure, they were treated well and the village of Deir el-Medina lived at what could be called middle-class standards for the time period, but they weren’t supposed to rebel against their betters in this way. It was unthinkable.

There was also a big festival coming up to celebrate the 30th year of the reign of Ramses III and a lot of the government officials were focused on that, more concerned with maintaining order than actually managing the country.

I should also note I paint Amennakhte as on the side of the government rather than the workers when the opposite was likely the case. The strike wasn’t recorded in the official government records as Egypt tended to cover up their losses.

That said, we do have some records like those of Amennakhte showing that, once the workers realized they had the power to organize, they used it all the way through the New Kingdom.

The last entry on the scroll doesn’t directly involve the strike, but is related. On the first month of summer, Day 16, one of the workmen provided evidence that government officials were stealing from the tombs.

One of them, Weserhat, was one of the ministers who shorted the workers payment previously. The other, Pentaweret, may be the son of Ramses III at the center of the “Harem Conspiracy”, an assassination plot that took place between 1 to 3 years later.

In summary, the workers were unpaid due to corruption and management enriching themselves, they went on strike, management threw them a pizza party, that didn’t work, and they eventually got their demands.

Though I guess if you want to be completely accurate, it was more “donuts/cupcakes in the breakroom”…

#egypt #ramses iii #ramesses iii #labor rights #strike #pizza party #donuts in the breakroom #union #union strong #Also before anyone says this is Ramses III not the Pharaoh of Exodus #That was Ramses II almost a century earlier and a completely different dynasty #Not going to open the can of worms that is archeological evidence (or lack thereof) supporting biblical accounts of history #But either way the events are unrelated as they were 70-100 years after Exodus would have been #ancient egypt #ancient history

[lukesdice]

'Till the Day I Die

Luke Hemmings x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some swearing

Blurb: You hadn’t seen your ex boyfriend in 7 months after he broke your heart, and at a party you finally see him again.

Note: hey :) I wrote this short piece as an introduction to me writing for 5sos! If you have any requests for any of the boys, pls send them in 🖤

The light drizzle of rain tickled the tip of your nose and the ends of your lashes, a chilling breeze causing you to pull your thin jacket tighter around yourself. The muffled beat of lounge rock music drawled through from the patio doors, a light chatter of tipsy voices and clattering mixed in with the soft tunes.

"Have you spoken to Luke tonight?" Calum asked you, taking a short drag from his cigarette and turning to face you as he pressed his elbows to the cool metal on the balcony railing.

You shook your head and sighed, staring out at the darkening view of the city lights.

"Are you going to?"

Smoke tingled with your senses as you wrung your hands together, thinking for a short minute.

"Why can't he speak to me first?" you asked, not once tearing your eyes away from directly looking in front of you.

"He's not going to do that," Calum said, "I think he's scared."

You sighed again.

Calum held out his half-smoked cigarette in front of you, drops of ashes dusting the balcony floor.

You let the smoke inhale into your throat and exhale out of your mouth again, watching the clouds in front of you dance into the chilling air.

"Does he even regret leaving me without even really giving me a reason?" you asked, twisting the cigarette between your fingers a little.

A moment of silence passed.

"He hasn't really spoken much about it" Calum said.

You sighed for a third time.

You handed Calum his cigarette and took a swig of your vodka mixer, it's harsh burn trickling down your throat. You pulled the cup away from your lips and screwed your face into a disgusted frown.

Calum chuckled loudly, "not really a vodka girl huh?"

You shook your head and coughed a little, "but it gets me drunk quick so fuck it" you laughed lightly.

After Calum had finally decided to leave to find another drink, you decided to make your way to the toilet, smiling and waving at a few people on the way. You stared at yourself in the mirror, mascara now slightly smudged and hair a little frizzy from the faint rain. You combed your fingers through it to try and untangle the knots, adjusting your skirt to a more suitable position.

"Fuck" you whispered to yourself, the light buzz in your head from the alcohol kicking in a little.

As you left the bathroom, you noticed Luke from the corner of your eye, his curly blonde hair and sparkly eyeshadow was instantly recognisable. He was wearing his favourite suit trousers and converse, the combo you always thought looked great on him.

He was smiling and laughing with Ashton and some girl, your heart picking up in speed. You knew it was wrong to feel pissed off at the fact he looked happy, you just wanted him to be miserable without you. You knew that sounded cruel but you couldn't help it. You wanted him to feel as broken as you did when he left.

You made your way back to the balcony, now alone, beginning to feel anxious and awkward at the sight of seeing your now ex-boyfriend of 7 months.

"Oh" you heard awkwardly from behind you.

You slowly turned around, your heart now hammering in your chest as you came face to face with Luke.

You stared silently at each other for what felt like five minutes, it becoming obvious to you that Luke hadn't come out here because he knew you were and wanted to see you.

"Sorry" he croaked.

"I didn't know you were out here."

You twisted your lips between your teeth, racking your brain for anything to say back that didn't sound stupid.

"Why? Am I that unbearable to see?" you questioned, not even really aggressively but more in a defeated manner.

Luke cast his eyes away from you for a moment and you could see his cheeks heating up a little with embarrassment.

"No" was all he could say.

"How are you anyway?" you asked, trying your best to make conversation. For some reason you desperately didn't want him to leave, and you wanted at least a minute more with him. Even if your head and heart hurt whenever you looked into his blue eyes.

"I'm fine" he replied, looking uncomfortable in the spot he was standing in but obviously scared to even move a muscle. "You?"

"I'm okay" you told him.

He nodded slightly before turning around to place his hand on the handle of the patio door, ready to re-enter the party.

Your shoulders dropped as you turned back to the view, tears forcing their way to teeter on the edge of your eyelids. You knew seeing him would hurt but you weren't prepared for the actual literal pain it brought.

"Actually I'm shit."

Your eyebrows raised slightly as your body tensed up. You kept your focus on the buildings and cars below you, scared of what to reply and shocked at his admittance.

"I've been shit since we broke up, and it's worse 'cause it's all my fault."

Your mouth felt dry, a tear that had been taunting you fell quickly down your cheek. You brought your hand up to your cheek to wipe it away and it was gone as quickly as it had come.

You had been longing for and imagining this moment over and over, concocting scenarios in your head where he had said this to you in various different ways, but you couldn't even now bring yourself to look at him anymore, never-mind respond.

You heard him sigh and begin to open the door, his footsteps shuffling for a moment before stopping, the music from inside now a little louder.

"I may have fucked up and you may hate me," Luke said quietly from behind you.

"But fucking hell, I know I will love you 'till the day I die."

Your chest rose and fell heavily, another couple of tears crawled down your face, but still no words came to mind. You felt as stuck as a clay statue.

You heard the door shut behind you and the music was instantly muffled again, and you knew that you were alone. A soft quiet sob left your mouth, as you hugged yourself tightly and mentally berated yourself for not saying anything.

After another ten minutes of calming yourself down, you re-entered the party, desperately scanning your eyes around the room for his blonde mop of hair. You couldn't see him anywhere. You began to panic that you had fucked up your chance after he had just literally told you he still loved you.

"He left a few minutes ago" Calum told you as he sloped up to you, a beer grasped in his hands. His eyes were glassy from being a bit too drunk. "You might still catch up to him" he smirked a little, like he was telling you that he knew something you didn't.

You thanked Calum and left through the front door, practically running down the flights of stairs and to the front of the building complex.

There he was, waiting out on the pavement for a taxi.

You cautiously approached him, shivering a little in the nighttime breeze and steady rain.

"I don't hate you" you said, making Luke jump a little at your sudden voice.

He turned to stare into your soul, his bright blue eyes the only thing you could focus on as a small curl tickled his brow, his leather jacket covered in little raindrops and glitter dotted over his cheeks as the rain had migrated it from his eyelids.

"I fucked up Y/N and I'm sorry, so sorry" he suddenly began to ramble without warning, "I don't deserve you, I fuck-" his voice cracked.

You took one step closer to him.

"I was just scared of hurting you or that you would hurt me so I ran away, and I fucking hurt you anyway" he continued, his blue eyes were vast teary oceans.

"Luke" you whispered softly.

He stopped his rambling, as you stood directly in front of him.

"I fucking miss you" you choked out without really thinking as he gave you a wet sad smile in reply.

He opened his mouth to reply but as he did so, his taxi pulled up to the curb, the driver inside motioning for him to hurry. Luke gave him a wave and turned back to you, drinking all of you in as he seemed to fight with himself not to leave you now. Not like this.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked.

"I don't want to be a pain."

"Please" he almost begged you.

You agreed and climbed into the taxi before him, your heart and head in a mess of confusion and intense emotion. You still hadn't quite registered the fact that Luke had finally explained his reason for why he hurt you, even if it was in a few rambled sentences. You still hadn't really taken in the fact that Luke still loved you.

You were both silent in the back of the dim taxi, your hand next to you gripping the edge of the middle seat. You desperately wanted to look at Luke but a part of you felt too rigid with nerves to move your head even a crack.

But as the taxi slowly followed traffic in front, you suddenly felt a warmth upon your hand, your chest fluttering a little as you looked over at Luke's hand on yours.

You let him intertwine his fingers with yours, resting your entangled hands on the middle seat, neither of you spoke a word but a thousand feelings were exchanged.

Luke softly squeezed your hand like he always used to, and a small smile tickled the corners of your lips, because you hadn't felt these innocently romantic feelings since you had first met.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sos fic #luke hemmings fic #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings x reader #5sos x reader #5sos imagine #calum hood x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x you #ashton irwin x reader #michael clifford x reader

[2kmps]

ganondorf is fascinated by the fact that you, a hylian raised within gerudo society, are the one to pour his wine at night.

notes; 1k, not proofread well, manipulation, power dynamics at play, suggestive content, mdni

many exceptions were made for you in gerudo society once ganondorf had grown keen to your existence beyond that of a faceless somebody pouring his wine every evening. you supposed you were a unique case to begin with; orphaned at a tender, impressionable age where you grew up more gerudo than you did hylian, yet always sober and somber to the knowledge that you would never belong, and could be ostracized at any time.

it had been an easy choice to assign you to him, an easy way to keep you in line, out of the way, and at worst- able to be easily annihilated without anyone else's hands getting dirty. but, you were promised a place there with everyone if you took up this responsibility, kept your eyes low, never showed him your face, obeyed his every word and gesture like gospel from a god.

in many ways, ganondorf was your god. with every bit of frayed little string you called life hinging on quenching his desires and demands- you had no choice but to treat him as anything other than your god. the only one you had ever prayed to, begging for your life rather than an abundant harvest or good fortune.

"look at me." those were the first words he had ever spoken to you directly, and not into the air with a gold chalice encrusted with glittering jewels outstretched for more wine. "I will speak only one more time: look at me."

it felt wrong to obey, especially after the piercing words that always told you otherwise. and yet, you listened and carefully raised your gaze to his, startled to your bones by how intense the red eyes glaring back at you were.

there was something otherworldly about them, passionate and cruel and corrupt- evil, yet you found yourself mesmerized right away.

"wine-bearer--" he started, brandishing his empty chalice for you to fill once again, for the fourth time that evening--"I've had you sit at my side many nights now, you've never spoken a word."

you were trying to swallow around the anxiety in your throat, unsure of whether you should break your silence, eyes wavering as you considered looking around the spacious chambers for guidance.

alas, you were all alone with him on this dim room wrapped luxurious drapery made of fine silk and satin, plush beast furs, and tapestries and rugs dyed deep, luscious hues of veridian, crimson, and sapphire. you did not belong here, not in this splendid room, and certainly not beneath his scrutiny.

"speak." his voice was a hard bravado, the rumble in his throat reverberated in your spine as you jumped.

"for-forgive, my king." it was the title you were forced to address him with, how he had been referenced by the others. "I only do what's asked of me, and that simply was to assure your cup never emptied. to speak in any casual manner was... expressly forbidden."

ganondorf frowned at your words, waiting for his cup to refill before pressing the rim to his lips. "were these such commands that I gave to you?"

"no, my liege." you said, neck straining as you bowed your head as though trying to repent for some grievance. "as I said, I only do as I'm told--"

he waved you into silence, not even a taper. "you're not of the gerudo, but a hylian. I've been told you were raised here in the city."

you saw him turn the gold cup out towards you, much closer to his person than before. it coaxed you nearer to pour more for him. "it's the only life I know. I was raised with swords and shields and hammers. serving wine is new to my repertoire."

"tell me, then," ganondorf set aside his chalice on a small table nearby, something of a small smile pulling into the crevices in his face. "if you are trained as a warrior, would you take up arms for your master? would you follow your master until the ends of time?"

"unfalteringly so."

the weight of your words didn't bear down on you until the ceramic jug was pried from your fingertips, and you felt his massive hands guiding you over him to straddle his thighs. it was different seeing him from here, still a towering presence, still with his eyes staring down the length of his aquiline nose into you.

it was a brief, fleeting desire to escape him and the way he started to roam over the robes and jewels that decorated your body. his palms were hard against your skin, calloused and heavy, but eager as he reveled the warmth that seeped into him as your clothes were pulled away.

you wondered when he last touched a person like this, how much of it were his own inhibitions being thwarted by copious amounts of wine- how much of it was him purely desiring something as a man.

"my king," you didn't intend to stop him, much smaller hands resting across his own as he followed your shapes and curves. "if this is truly what you wish for, I will give myself to you- but wouldn't you prefer someone who can give you an heir?"

"an heir?" he gave the derisive response, reaching behind your head for your neck. his fingers spread into your hair. "there is no place for an heir when absolute power is mine."

and then, he leaned in towards you, eyelids hanging heavily. you couldn't move away, a part of you didn't want to now.

"the wine is no longer good enough." he came nearer to your lips. "tonight, I want something else to give me warmth and pleasure."

his lips landed on yours with a fervor you had never experienced; an insatiable, unwavering forcefulness pushed into the kiss that made your arms encircle his neck to keep yourself from withering away. nothing about the way he touched you was gentle, it was all domineering, powerful, to claim you and prove that he could with ease.

and you, ever the fool, melted into his lust and let it consume you.

divider; @/rookthorneartistry

reposted from my deleted blog: cardeneiv

please interact or reblog if you enjoyed it!❤️

#ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf x you #totk ganon #loz ganon #ganon x reader #ganondorf x y/n #totk ganondorf #totk #totk imagines #tears of the kingdom #totk x reader #tears of the kingdom imagines #loz x reader #legend of zelda #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom

[littledemondani]

10 and 22 for the smut prompts please! I love your work, you're one of my favorite Eddie writers <3

call it what you want

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, fem!reader, handjob, mentions of masturbation (male and female), best friends to lovers, dirty talk, petting

word count: 1.9k

prompt: 10. I can't help but have naughty thoughts when you look like that. 22. Just friends?! Do your friends make you feel hot and bothered like this? Do they make you moan like this? (X)

a/n: thank you for the req, bby<3 i really hope you enjoy it! sorry if anything like this has been done before. i don't have time to scroll through and read everything. reader and eddie are both 20 in this. also, my requests are open for blurbs/one-shots/concepts, etc.

eddie could feel his heart hammering wildly in his chest — could also feel the blood rushing straight to his cock. no, this can’t be happening, not when you’re sitting right there next to him on the sofa. your right leg was crossed over your left, which hiked your already short plaid skirt up enough to showcase more of your thigh. eddie silently cursed himself and prayed to whatever god would listen to take away the filthy thoughts beginning to infiltrate his mind.

usually, those thoughts would creep in late at night when he was trying to go to sleep. he’d imagine how you’d look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. your pretty eyes welled up with tears as you gazed up at him, silently pleading for him to fuck your throat just a little bit faster. he’d picture himself between your legs, tongue flicking at your clit with two fingers pushed in to the knuckle. he’d wonder how tight your cunt is, how wet and warm you’d feel around his cock. the way your walls would flutter and clench with each thrust he gives you. he’d try to imagine how your moans would sound, how his name would fall from your lips, begging him to fill you up with his cum.

in those moments, he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. his mind was clouded with lust, only focusing on how fucking good his hand felt stroking his painfully hard cock. it wasn’t until after the post-orgasmic bliss faded did the reality of the situation sink in, leaving him with a heavy, ugly feeling in his chest. 

you were his best friend and had been ever since the 10th grade when you two were paired up to be lab partners in biology. he was there for you through every heartbreak, every new relationship, the drama with the other girls in your class, the bullshit divorce your parents went through, and everything else in between. 

to have those sexual feelings about you, in his eyes, made him just like every other guy — the ones you complained to him about who only wanted to be your friend in hopes of getting into your pants. he hated that he had them, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t push them away for good. they always came back stronger and stronger, and now, much to eddie’s horror, they’re coming up directly in your presence.

he knew he should avert his gaze, should put his attention back on the movie that he insisted the both of you watch. instead, his eyes roamed over your exposed thigh, taking in how the hem of your skirt stopped just below your groin. if you moved even the slightest bit, he’d be able to catch a glimpse of your panties. what kind were you wearing? were they black? pink? blue? purple? cotton? lace? his cock swelled at the idea of you wearing a red lacy thong underneath.

you cleared your throat and it brought eddie back to the present. he quickly tore his gaze away from you and reached to grab his beer from the coffee table. to not seem conspicuous, he glanced down while he took a decent swig, taking notice of the obvious erection straining against his dark denim jeans. fuck what was he gonna do? if he noticed it, you could too if you happened to look directly at his lap.

he closed his eyes and tried to picture every repulsive thing imaginable to get rid of his hard-on. mrs. o’donnell in a bra seemed to be doing the trick, until he felt your hand on his thigh. his eyes snapped open and he looked down at you, the panic clearly evident behind his beautiful, big brown eyes. 

“are you okay?” you asked sweetly. “you’ve been fidgeting this whole time. d’you not like the movie?”

eddie couldn’t speak. your hand was close to his crotch, so close. one inch to the right and you would be touching him. he swallowed thickly, trying to wrack his brain for a good excuse.

he stammered a bit, brows furrowed and slightly shaking his head before settling on, “nah, no. e-everything’s good.” followed by a nervous chuckle and a fake smile.

you weren’t convinced at all. and it wasn’t just because it was blatantly obvious that he was lying. you had noticed him staring at you. noticed how he sucked in a sharp breath when you crossed your leg over the other and your skirt rode up. noticed how he had to dig his nails into the denim of his jeans — something you figured was to keep himself from reaching out to touch you like he most likely wanted to. out of the corner of your eye, you could see his gaze roaming over your body, and you couldn’t deny the warmth that flooded you because of it.

“really? because something tells me your mind was…somewhere else.” you scooted closer to him, and he tensed up a little, earning a giggle from you.

when he doesn’t say anything, a habit of his when he’s really flustered, you gestured to his lap. all of the blood quickly drains from his face, turning him slightly pale. fuck, you knew. you knew and you were probably going to be super freaked out and want nothing to do with him. you were going to yell at him, call him a freak, and run out of his trailer as fast as you could. at least, that’s what he pictured every time he thought about what you would do if you ever found out.

“i uh — y/n, listen, i-it’s not what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” you note. “you got a hard-on. all because of how short my skirt is.”

it feels like the walls are closing in on him and he’s struggling to breathe. he closes his eyes, waiting for the inevitable moment when you start cursing him out. that never comes, though, and eddie is beyond shocked when you rub your palm over his erection.

he looked at you, eyes wide, a mix of confusion and wonder behind them. your lips were tugged into a wicked smirk as you felt his cock twitch against your touch. “isn’t that right, eddie?”

he doesn’t know what to do. in all of his worrying, he never stopped to think about you actually being into him that way. you always called him your ‘buddy’ and spoke to him like you did any other friend you had. he thought his chances with you were slim to none and had come to accept that you would only ever see him as a friend.

“i-i,” he stuttered. he took one last glance at you. your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth, eyes filled with what he could only describe as lust, chest slightly heaving as you continued to palm him. you wanted him. just like he’s wanted you all this time. that revelation destroyed every ounce of panic within him, and in it’s place, left only an intense state of arousal. “i can’t help but have naughty thoughts when you look like that.”

you can’t suppress the whine that slips past your lips. you increase the pressure of your hand on his bulge, keeping your eyes glued to his. “hm..do you think of me like that often?” you asked thoughtfully.

“y-yes,” he admitted, swallowing thickly as he flicked his gaze from your eyes, to your lips, then back again. his cheeks flushed a hint of pink in embarrassment, but, judging by your lack of a negative reaction, you don’t seem to mind his confession one bit.

“do you fantasize about me? about what i’d do to you?”

he nods, unable to speak as you drag your nails over the imprint of his cock. he was incredibly hard, you noticed, his cock practically begging to be let out from the confines of his jeans. you trail your fingers up to the waistband, slowly undoing the button. you pull the zipper down and eddie feels like his heart is going to burst through his chest. he’s breathing hard, licking his dry lips as he watches you intently.

“in your fantasies, did i ever do this?” you carefully take his cock in your hand, unable to contain the moan that spills past your lips. it’s a lot bigger than what you had anticipated; the head is perfectly shaped, leaking beads of pre-cum from the slit, shaft is thick, slightly curved to the left, with a prominent vein along the underside. the sight, along with the heavy feel of him in your hand, makes your cunt clench around nothing. you brush your thumb over the tip, relishing in the slight twitch from eddie as he gets used to you touching him. you lean over him gathering enough spit in your mouth before dribbling it onto his cock. you start to pump him slowly, from the tip all the way down to the base then back up again, twisting your hand on the upstroke.

eddie watches in awe, soft groans and whines leaving him as you work his cock. he nods, letting out a shaky, “shit, yes.”

getting to actually experience you giving him a handjob was so much better than any fantasy he ever had. you were perfect, knew just the right amount of pressure to squeeze his cock and where to put most of your attention to. his head tilted back as your other hand moved to cup his heavy balls, moaning hotly.

“i thought so,” you said with a smirk. you gently squeezed the tip on the upstroke, mewling as pre-cum gushed from the slit. “can i tell you a secret?”

he flicks his gaze to you, plump lips slightly parted. “w-what is it?”

“i fantasize about you, too,” you confessed. “fuck myself with my pretty pink dildo every night and imagine it’s you.”

there’s no way any of this is real. you? masturbating while thinking about him? an image of you with your legs spread wide, thrusting the dildo deep inside your little cunt flashed in his mind. 

“fuuck…y/n,” he groaned, rutting up against your hand.

you leaned into him, your lips ghosting along the outer shell of his ear. “do you wanna fuck me eddie?” you whispered and he shivered against you.

“yeah,” he nodded. “god, i wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please.”

“good…because i can’t go another second without you being inside of me.” 

you smashed your lips against eddie’s, releasing some of the pent up sexual tension you had been feeling. his lips moved seamlessly with yours, like the two of you had done this a thousand times over. eddie brought the hand that wasn’t on your thigh to cup your cheek, gently brushing his thumb across your soft skin. it was a stark contrast to the way the two of you were kissing, but it made your head spin all the same. you pulled back, about to lift your leg over eddie’s lap when he stopped you.

“wait,” he breathed, peering up at you through the strands of hair that fell over his eyes. “i know we’re just friends, but—”

“just friends?!” you interrupted him. “do your friends make you feel hot and bothered like this? do they make you moan like this?”

“n-no,” he shook his head, his brown eyes never leaving your gaze.

“didn’t think so,” you said with a slight smirk. “i know my friends sure as fuck don’t make me wet like this. don’t make me so goddamn horny i can’t even think stra—”

in a swift motion, eddie flipped you onto your back, his hand delving between your legs to rub his fingers along your clothed cunt. “you’re right,” he said with a devilish smirk as he pushed against the wet spot on your lacy panties. “i think we’re well past the point of being just friends.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[vivalas-vega]

I'm in the mood for something angsty... would you write something where Jake's partner is hospitalized for some reason? Feel free to explore it any way you want, I'm sure it'll be great!

this gave me the perfect opportunity to rework something I'd set aside for Jake and Cobra if any of you are readers of real friends :) (this was orig going to be how they confessed their feelings hehe)

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“Break right, Phoenix, break right!” You yelled in your cockpit as you and members of your squad were engaged in a training mission… one rooted in showing a new class of Top Gun recruits what teamwork sounds like in the air but you were all having an off day. She broke right but a second too late, almost clipping into Jake who whizzed past her.

“Phoenix, what the fuck?” He shouted, temporarily wavering in the air before recovering,

“Sorry, sorry.” She mumbled and you sighed.

“Everyone on the ground, now.” You ordered. You weren't sure you had the authority to do that, but everyone was off their game and you figured it was the best thing to do to avoid disaster. As you began to descend a flock of birds came out of nowhere and you cursed as you tried to fly around them.

“Birdstrike,” you said, “right engine on fire, climbing, throttling back. Shutting off fuel to right engine, extinguishing fire,” you said, narrating everything you were doing to keep ATC informed.

“What’s going on?” you heard Bob in your ear and you ignored it as you focused on the task at hand.

“Fuck,” you said as alarms rang throughout the cockpit, “left engine is out, trying to restart.” Your chest felt tight as you furiously pressed buttons, “throttling up.”

“You’re on fire!” Phoenix shouted in your ears.

“Extinguishing left engine,” you said and you felt a sinking feeling as more warning lights popped up. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered.

“Punch out.” You heard Jake in your ears and you shook your head though no one could see you. In his own jet he was hovering idly, watching as yours spun wildly out of control and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

“God damn it, just- give me a minute,” you yelled, but all of your hail mary’s were coming up short, “hydraulic failure,” you said as you pulled up.

“Damn it, you can’t save it, punch out,” you heard him again, not even attempting to hide the panic in his voice that mirrored your own that was radiating throughout your body. Your jet started to veer off, starting a spiral directly for the bluffs ahead of you as everything became unresponsive. 

“Lost all controls, trying-”

“Eject now,” Phoenix yelled and you exhaled sharply, looking at the rapidly approaching hillside.

“Fuck, ejecting, ejecting!” you shouted, pulling up on the loops between your feet and gasping as the wind was knocked out of you. You desperately tried to get in a breath of air as you pulled your parachute cord but it was futile with a rather ungraceful collision with the ground below. You heard the sounds of a rescue chopper before you could even finish detangling yourself from all of your gear and once you were free you took a deep breath and counted to ten, naming things you could see out loud to ground you, needing to come down from the adrenaline high to properly assess if you’d been hurt or not.

“Trees, rocks, smoke from my damn jet, clouds in the sky…” you breathed, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins begin to subside. As you began to calm down you stretched out your muscles, bouncing your weight between each foot and decided you were unharmed, spare a gash on your forehead that was oozing blood faster than you would have liked. You dug around in your pack, grabbing a pack of gauze and tearing it open to press against the wound as you waited. As your body came down from the high of a near death experience you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

“I don’t understand what the hell she was doing,” Jake said as he paced outside of your hospital room with Rooster and Phoenix standing by and trying to figure out how to help.

“She thought she could save it, any one of us would have waited until the last second too,” Phoenix tried but Jake wasn’t having it.

“She could have died,” his voice cracked just as a nurse came out of your room to let him know you were asking for him.

“Hey, sweetheart…” he said, softly sitting on the edge of your bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a battered highway cone,” you groaned, trying to sit up but every bone in your body protested. “How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours… what the hell was that?”

“Birdstrike, thought I could save the engine,” you answered and you saw the disappointment in his face.

“You should have ejected as soon as it went out,” he replied.

“You know that’s not protocol, I had to at least try.”

“I don’t care about protocol! We can replace your jet, we can’t replace you,” he said, voice thick with emotion and you just smiled softly at him.

“I’m okay, Jake, really… just a few bumps and bruises.”

“And a concussion,” he pointed out and you grimaced… that’s why your head hurt so badly.

“It’ll heal,” you tried but he just shook his head. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“Yeah well, you almost weren’t so stop saying you’re fine,” he shot back and your eyes widened. “Because I’m not, and you shouldn’t be. I mean, what the fuck, sweetheart? Was I just supposed to be okay with watching you burn in?” you could tell he was trying his hardest not to yell, to still be gentle with you. “You don’t get to be reckless like that anymore.”

“Okay, honey,” you nodded, reaching up to cup his face.

“I’m serious, no more of that. I can’t- I can’t do that again, just watch you spin out of control. I can’t-”

“It’s okay, come here,” you said, pulling him down and wrapping your arms around him. “I understand, it’s okay.” 

“I’m supposed to be comforting you,” he mumbled against your chest and you laughed despite how much it hurt.

“That’s okay… through thick and thin, right?” you asked and he nodded as he sat up. 

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he said looking into your eyes and you nodded.

“I promise,” you whispered, pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you, you big softie.”

“I love you, too.”

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