#w: kieran

[nicsalazar]

Not hunting season || Kieran & Nicole

TIMING: Recent. LOCATION: The State Park. PARTIES: @debauchfairy & @nicsalazar SUMMARY: Kieran runs from a warden by sneaking into a cabin. Nicole checks on the intruder. WARNINGS: Head trauma.

The rangers communicated a fair amount while patrolling. Nicole didn’t enjoy it, it involved more speaking than she found comfortable, but it was a necessity. How else would a limited group of people cover the great lengths of the State Park and ensure everything ran smoothly? Smoothly as they could while understaffed and with insufficient resources, but smoothly nonetheless. 

The radio call she received from Daugherty wasn’t odd. Strangers trespassed quite regularly and abnormal situations around campsites were handled on the daily. Nothing out of the ordinary. As the call about a mysterious man roaming one of the lakeside campsites ended, Nicole turned her vehicle around and drove toward the area to corroborate how legitimate the information provided by witnesses was. It used to be a mixed bag of people not wanting others around while they enjoyed their downtime in nature, and real situations that could escalate to something dangerous.

Hoping for the former scenario, Nicole arrived at the campsite, got out of the car and scouted the area for any suspicious activity. It was a nice summer day outside, ideal for families to gather around the picnic area. Would be easy for anyone who wasn’t staying at one of the cabins to sneak in. Or for misunderstandings to occur. Her initial scan revealed nothing of concern— though the children screaming to a level that could rupture her eardrums should be considered a personal concern— so Nicole decided to pay the campsite manager a visit. Ask some questions. 

Before the idea solidified in her mind, she spotted a figure dashing inside one of the empty cabins. Something she likely wouldn't have noticed without enhanced senses. But nothing about this action was wrong yet, so Nicole approached without a rush, peering inside the window to confirm there was a man inside.

When she opened the door she didn’t expect said intruder to look— fuck, she wasn’t good at facial expressions, but— not good. He didn’t look good. Stressed possibly. Slightly disheveled. Instead of asking about what she saw him do, Nicole frowned.  “You alright?”

—

It was a situation that could have been amusing - at the very least, Kieran definitely would have laughed if anyone other than himself was dealing with this current predicament because it was funny. It was just also a complete and utter pain in his ass, not to mention the literal, physical pain that was the wound on his upper arm (and the irreparable damage to a favored jacket).

When iron was avoided as well as Kieran managed it, one could easily forget just how painful the damn things were. 

Nothing good ever came from connecting with nature - Kieran had well and truly had his fill of it during his younger years but last night (this morning? Semantics, didn’t really matter) properly proved his stance on the great outdoors. Even if the ‘outside’ part wasn’t technically responsible for throwing a warden in his path, it still sucked. And no, this obviously wasn’t Kieran’s fault for letting himself get dragged into this mess in the first place. He’d been promised decent company, drinks, maybe even some party favors and a bonfire - the last bit he was neutral towards - but a stupid warden being a part of the group? Not part of the deal. 

Kieran was reluctantly impressed by the warden’s patience, biding his time until the first crack of dawn had arrived and the rest of the group had trickled off. As soon as the presumed third wheel - the warden had put up a good, flirty act, alright? - vanished into the tree line, true colors had been revealed. Which was how Kieran had ended up spending the last three damn hours traipsing through these damn woods with a damn iron blade cut that would not stop burning. 

Salvation, possibly, came in the form of a campsite. It was filled with loud, annoying children and the kind of people Kieran normally would have avoided like the plague but desperate times. There was a small chance he’d managed to lose the warden but his heart still pounded as he stood obscured in the tree line, disgustingly vulnerable as he scraped together the last dregs of concentration to force his glamor back up. Kieran and his ‘dressed to impress’ outfit would already look out of place crossing through this hellscape of a campground, no need for the added attention his true form would have attracted. 

Once the door had closed behind him, Kieran finally allowed himself a breath of relief, as well as lamenting on how annoyingly funny this all was. The relief was short lived, each and every muscle tensing as the door opened. It wasn’t the warden, which allowed him to destress once more, even if this woman’s worried frown immediately annoyed him. “Do I look alright?” he shot back, letting go of the still seeping wound on his arm to wave his hand at this stranger and the door. “Either leave or get in and close the door.” Her outfit, or uniform more precisely, finally registered and wasn’t that just dandy - being told off by a park ranger was exactly what this morning was missing. 

—--

He didn’t look like he belonged in the campsite or the forest, it was her first impression. He was better suited to be the kind of person renting some unaffordable resort far away and having his every whim catered to him. Perhaps, he even owned the resort. The second thing Nicole noticed was the nasty gash on his upper arm. It resembled both a burn injury and a knife cut. Her eyes widened in alarm.  

He wasn’t alright, that became evident, and his attitude toward her question confirmed it. Nicole let embarrassment blaze through her for a moment, the heat rising in her cheeks, knowing she would dwell on that stupid question for the rest of the day. But she heard that tone aimed at her too many times around the park, she was able to separate her human reaction from her job as a ranger. “If you were attacked inside or near the camp you should tell me,” she stated, forehead creasing into deeper concern. The door stayed open when she approached, despite his demand. She had the years of experience not to take everything said to her by a pissed off visitor at face value. Who was to say he wasn’t playing victim after an altercation got the best of him? She traced the edge of her radio, debating whether to report back and call management at campsite of if she wanted to sort things out herself first. 

She studied him, trying to decipher what he was hiding. On a good day, Nicole should have been able to pinpoint the look on the stranger’s face. On a good day. But most days she could only divide facial expressions into three categories: happy, sad or angry. He looked angry, clearly—no. There was something else, in the rise of his brow, between each labored breath, a thing Nicole was familiar with, but the meaning evaded her. It wasn’t a good day. But she decided he didn’t have to pay for her shortcomings. Not yet. Her hand trailed down to her back pocket instead, pulling up a handkerchief, offering it to the man to stop the bleeding. 

It was far from the worst attack she witnessed at the park, but the frequency of them never got easy to deal with. Part of her doubted the man would be willing to cooperate the way others had in the past, though. “The attacker could still be around, gotta make sure they won’t get anybody else,” she explained before sinking into another silence, contemplating. “Got first aid in the main cabin if you want it.”

—

Tell this protector of plants and bears about a warden? Yeah, Kieran would very resolutely turn down that offer, his distaste at her… order? Suggestion? Whichever it was, his distaste was clearly visible on his face. “Is there a specific distance from the camp where you’re not required to care anymore?” Kieran responded instead of providing any useful information, being difficult not just for the sake of it but also because of his identity. Maybe like just over half of it was being difficult because he was tired and in pain and she looked so damn concerned that it was pissing him off. Well, concerned morphing into downright staring which granted, Kieran liked a lot of things about humans but the social constructs of ‘appropriate time and ways to look at someone’ were such a miss. 

The damn door was still open but finally, something useful from her aside from just staring and pretending she would somehow be useful against this warden if they showed up. With only a tiny bit of disdain, Kieran accepted the offered handkerchief, pressing it against the still seeping wound. It would probably be much more helpful to tie the thing around his arm, no way every show and movie got that bit wrong, but neither of them looked particularly interested in closer contact than was strictly necessary at this point. 

Granted, the logic of a crazed attacker running around with a knife and needing to be caught was sound, except for the fact that this attacker was a specific kind of insane. The righteous and honestly, quite prejudiced kind. “Trust me, they only have eyes for me,” was all he offered, which still felt like more explanation than he was strictly willing to give. She already seemed wary of him - being the sole object of someone running around slicing and dicing probably didn’t do much to fix his image. At least he looked presentable and she wasn’t averse to offering him first aid despite all of this. “Alright,” Kieran finally relented after a long, quiet moment of deliberation. Worst came to worst, he’d force her to stop asking these questions and slip away but for now, some better bandaging didn’t sound horrible. 

—

Not many things made Nicole laugh. Her dog Nacho, mostly. Outside of that, cracking a smile remained a foreign concept, her muscles atrophied to the action. Something that she found amusing, however, was confrontational visitors. She believed it had more to do with a natural response to her nerves, than finding anything particularly humorous. Yet any time someone tried acting as if they were an exception to the rule, it earned a dry huff from her. She supposed, as far as reasons to act defensive, the man in front of her had a great deal in his favor. Nicole understood, she was cranky when she got hurt too. She huffed, shaking her head at him. Her lips pressed into an apologetic grimace. “Within the park? No— Afraid’s part of the job to care. Even then— wouldn’t you— Who wouldn’t stop to help an injured person?” 

He seemed understanding of her intention to extend a hand, as inconvenient as it was for him. Eventually reaching for the handkerchief Nicole offered. Her thumb hooked on her belt, mere inches from her radio. Nothing wrong about being cautious. And though he begrudgingly accepted the help in the shape of a piece of fabric, the man wasn’t any closer to divulging who’d been responsible for his injury to begin with. Nicole waited in an uncomfortable silence —not unlike most silences when it came to people— until he supplied one extra sentence of information. Nicole tensed at that. It was a personal matter then, criminal possibly?

Why would they need to settle their differences in the middle of the woods? That part stuck out. Nicole’s mind swarmed with questions, however her train of thought stopped when the stranger relented, accepting her other suggestion: The first aid kit. Something set in the pit of her stomach. Wasn’t relief but— it was nice. Things would be handled swiftly, and perhaps, should his mood look up, he could give more information regarding the mysterious attacker. “Right, c’mon. Then.” The main cabin was a short walk from the campsite, they would be there in a few minutes. 

The wooden floor creaked as Nicole turned around, signaling for the man to follow her. Yet two steps were all she took when her ears picked up on shuffling feet outside, brushing past foliage. Nicole halted. It was oftentimes difficult to trust her gut, when her gut treated everything like a worst case scenario, but this she knew felt categorically wrong. She held her hand up, stopping him from walking further. In turn, she was the one to step forward and close the door for a moment. She would take uncomfortable silence or snarky remarks if it meant— 

She only got her hand on the doorknob when a body slammed against the door, brute force almost sending Nicole to the ground. By reflex she pushed forward, intent on closing it, opposing who she assumed was on the other side. Fuck. She should’ve listened. Why didn’t she? It was too late. She pushed, shoulder against the wooden surface, but there was a foot on the door, preventing her from doing anything. She was no match for his strength. Her arms screamed in resistance, until they gave out. She tumbled backward, but didn’t let go of the doorknob. Unfortunately she had given too much space for the attacker to slip inside.

The stranger wasn’t wrong, this man only had eyes for him. And that vicious look on his face shot up real panic in her chest. She recognized that look. That look froze her completely, mind peeling away from her body, sending her back in time.

—

Oh, humans and their bleeding hearts. Who wouldn’t stop to help an injured person? A lot of people, human or otherwise. An injured person could be a huge bother, a trap or an opportunity, maybe even a meal for those inclined towards meals of the flesh. Sure, Kieran was currently benefiting from this incessant need to ‘do good’ but no one would convince him it was the way the world worked. So he skipped the question - better to let this park ranger cling to the hope that she was helping out a fellow do-gooder. 

Not that it mattered in the end as the helping would have to wait. 

Kieran hadn’t needed her gesture to stop, having already halted once he’d picked up on the same crunching of leaves and branching that she apparently had, too. It was too late to hide, the warden would have picked up on his presence at this point and as far as he could tell, this park ranger wasn’t carrying anything resembling a weapon. 

His eyes didn’t move from the foot that had managed to slip between the door and the jamb, keeping it from closing and he felt the blood drain from his face. Should have kept running, stopping in here was a bad idea, chatting with a park ranger even more so– The warden was inside despite the stranger’s valiant but ultimately pointless efforts. Kieran had backed himself against the furthest wall without fully taking notice, expression fixed into one of neutrality despite the angry gaze currently staring him down, forcing his heart to work double time. 

“I thought no witnesses was more your speed. Unless you’re upgrading to stabbing humans, too. And a public servant, at that.” It wasn’t quite certain whether Kieran was simply poking at a loaded gun but as someone not exactly equipped to fight, he sure as hell wouldn’t go down quietly. The park ranger looked… well, useless, seemingly frozen in terror. Would the warden kill her too simply to avoid catching heat for stabbing someone in broad daylight? Only one way to find out, he supposed. With the warden weighing his options, Kieran forced himself to focus before forcing all that focus onto the park ranger, exerting his influence on her as it was useless on the warden. 

“Help me,” he told her, fully unsure as to what exactly that help would entail but her odds of survival against cold iron were better than his and, what was that saying? Better you than me? 

—

Nicole backed herself up against the small nightstand by the bunk bed, too busy trying to work past the fear expanding in her chest to feel guilty or ashamed that this was her reaction to someone needing help. She was meant to provide assistance, wasn’t she? She didn’t have an ideal track record with— them. The kind of problem that barged into the cabin, brandishing a knife. Pure hatred in his gaze. Hunters. She knew the word, but even thinking it sent a shiver down her spine; mysterious pain searing into her lower back. Perhaps the man was better off if she didn’t try to intervene. His chances of survival shouldn’t rely on a woman who couldn’t save anyone.  

Nicole had some training for situations like this, self-defense classes, but against supernaturally enhanced humans? His plea came nonetheless, and Nicole locked eyes with him. Help him? How the fuck was she supposed to do that? Her own apprehensions aside, she wasn’t a law enforcement ranger, she had no weapons big enough to face a hunter. Some fucking bear spray wouldn’t do shit against a knife, or a gun, should he pull out one. Why were all rational arguments slowly slipping away, burying themselves into a warm comfort blanket in the back of her mind? She knew— She couldn’t— Could she? No. N— 

The hunter approached his prey, with a calculated move. And something snapped inside Nicole. The spirit stirred beneath her sternum, clawing at her ribcage. Goosebumps spread along her skin as the cold struck with surprise. Overriding the fear that sat on her chest a moment before. What was there to fear, when she carried a mighty beast, an ancient predator within her? The hunter was no match for the creature she was. 

She ripped the lamp on the nightstand and lunged forward to smash it on the hunter’s head. Her steps must’ve been too loud, too telegraphed, because he was ready for her attack. When she swung, he knocked it out of her hand with frightening speed. In his next move, he counter attacked with a hook to her stomach that sent her tumbling back. It did nothing but ignite a bigger fire within her. She wasn’t backing down. Why— why wasn’t she? She didn’t feel like it. It didn’t feel like it.  

She surged again, a hand gripping the hunter’s shoulder, to get him off the other man. Her muscles burned white hot, a pained growl tumbling past her lips as claws grew, sinking into the man’s shoulder, tearing his flesh. The jaguar was— it was as if— the closest sensation she could think in the moment to describe it was— a sneeze. She felt the spirit pulsing in her hand, not fully taking over, but as an extension of her rather than distinct entities. Her ribcage vibrated with the energy of something vicious. The hunter twisted in pain, hissing as he tried to push her away, swinging his knife around. If he sliced her, she didn’t feel it. At best, Nicole was holding him up, her burst of energy would surely only last a few moments. She looked at the lamp on the ground, the amber gaze of the jaguar found the man backed up against the wall, signaling for him to pick it up, try knock him out, otherwise they were both done for. 

—

This wasn’t a situation in which Kieran was used to brandishing his hypnosis, at least not to this extent. He’d instigated a fight or two, even avoided getting caught in a skirmish by having someone else take the fall for him but never life-or-death. Even so, he was amazed by the visceral shift he saw in the park ranger’s eyes, not merely the familiar glazed over look but rather something new and strong. A fire, confidence that hadn’t been present before, and Kieran did like it when his ability brought out a new, unexpected side in people but this wasn’t really the time to enjoy it. There was a flurry of movements, attacks blocked and punches thrown and Kieran tried to seize the distraction, make an attempt to escape. The warden noticed, quickly moving to trip Kieran up and maybe, he thought as he hit the ground, he shouldn’t have been so focused on keeping his glamor up because the hooves would not have been as easily fumbled. 

The knife caught the light as the warden raised it, no more messing around since chaos had already broken loose but the park ranger wasn’t done. And… oh. Her eyes had fully shifted into something inhuman now, along with what were definitely claws, locked into the warden’s shoulder. Not like the slitted irises Kieran had first seen in Wyatt but animal-like all the same. Lucky break, maybe this wasn’t doomed after all. 

Pain and the threat of something more dangerous than Kieran dragged the warden’s attention away and the faun scrambled to his feet. The route to the door was now fully unguarded. Maybe this shifter would be able to keep his attention long enough for Kieran to get some distance away - would the warden spare her now that her human cover had so dramatically been blown? Not that it was Kieran’s problem, technically. Even if he had forced her to join the fight but really, wasn’t that her job anyway? He met the unnaturally colored eyes right as he had made the decision to bolt, following that gaze to the discarded lamp. Getting a hit in as payback for the wound still burning on his arm would feel nice. 

Cursing under his breath, Kieran lunged for the lamp before he could change his mind. It wasn’t until he had raised the damn thing in the air that he realized just how close he needed to get to the warden but there was no turning back now - instead, he let his glamor drop and with it, the influence on the shifter, the increased agility of his real legs coming in handy as Kieran brought the heavy lamp down to smash over the warden’s head. Blood immediately bloomed on the hunter’s forehead as his eyes rolled back, previously swinging arms going limp followed by his whole body. It hit the ground with a satisfying thud and Kieran exhaled happily, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at the unconscious form. 

—

Nicole couldn’t wrap her head around what was it that kept the spirit raging, pounding in her chest, yet somehow contained. Was that always a possibility? She never knew they could work as a unit. The energy burst through her in an electrifying way, she didn’t want to let go of her —its prey. Blood seeping from where the claws punctured stained the hunter’s shirt, spurring her on. She watched transfixed. Why not end him? Why not unlock the beast and let it take care of it? Would be a matter of seconds. One less of them roaming in town, hurting innocents, ruining lives. The jaguar sought revenge on past losses, and Nicole didn’t question why she recognized or validated the spirit’s desire.  

The decision was made for her, before she could seize the hunter’s other arm, before sharp teeth could find purchase on the man’s windpipe, the other man shuffled closer, wood creaking underneath him. He was coming to deliver the hit, wasn’t he? Part of her — the animal side— resented it. It was supposed to be the jaguar’s kill. Nicole watched him expectantly, part human part jaguar, and ready to act if he didn’t have what it took. Only it wasn’t a man who stood before her, not entirely. She was no longer the only one with a secret inside the cabin. 

She had never seen something like it, however, her brain racking to find any ounce of knowledge she had on similar monsters. Unfortunately, there was no time to launch into an interrogation. He was being hunted, and Nicole suddenly understood why. 

She stepped backward just enough for the man to pick up the lamp and smash it against the man’s head. He was immediately reduced to dead weight. With a loud thump against the planks, he hit the ground unconscious. The wound beckoned her yet again, though. The scent of fresh blood that normally would’ve been jarring, now felt irresistible. The jaguar stirred proudly inside her ribcage, strong despite the threat being gone. Nicole couldn’t find it in her to worry about a potential takeover. Why? If that was what the balam desired then— Eyes wide, she stared at the other man, the adrenaline of the moment slowly subsiding. The time for processing was near. 

Her gaze fell on the half-man’s legs. Hooves. He had— Nicole didn’t have vast experience with shifters. She’d known of werewolves, and balam. She’d heard of bird-like shifters and once stumbled upon a talking croc—alligator? Something. Not him. This went beyond what she’d known thus far. What the fuck? Her claws retracted, and the tension in her forehead eased. She realized everything looked slightly less sharp around her. 

There was an unconscious man on the floor, and two human hybrids staring at each other. The strange, euphoric haze occluding her judgment was gone, temerity melted cold along her ribcage, a more familiar sensation of fear replacing it. Nicole had to protect the jaguar, despite everything. “Will— uh, keep my mouth shut if… you keep yours,” she mumbled, appealing to a shared sense of otherness. She wasn’t sure if he was bold and proud of what he was, but— after a close call with a hunter, secrecy should be encouraged. She leaned down to grab the lamp’s cord, tying the man’s hands behind his back. If he retained his agility and strength when he woke up, at least this would hold him back for a moment. 

The image of a man with hoofed legs was a hard one to move past, but Nicole tried. For both their sakes. “Gonna call the other rangers. Keep him locked in the cabin while—” she blew a tense breath. What the fuck just happened? She almost wished she was running on adrenaline or whatever it was that made her act so bravely before. But her chest was silent, and she no longer believed in the jaguar’s mighty power. The spirit didn’t vanish like this, though. Something lulled it into slumber. She was so confused, if she were alone it would’ve sent her into a spiral. But the man stood before her, proud of what he did to stop the hunter. He ought to be, she supposed, saving both of them. More importantly, “you should go—” she pressed. She, a parker ranger, reprimanding an intruder wouldn’t look suspicious. And with her reputation for avoiding altercations, his wounds would be deemed necessary. The other man, however— No point in drawing more attention to him. “Go. Something tells me— whatever bandaid we can offer won’t do much for you”.

—  

The change came quickly, first in the way the familiar haze vanished from the park ranger’s still amber eyes, followed by the return of irises more befitting a human. She looked confused, disoriented by the hypnosis most likely but seemingly far from slotting the pieces into place. From her expression, it wasn’t hard to gauge that she had never seen anything remotely similar to Kieran before. She was staring and while the faun was never uncomfortable, a slightly bitchy request for her to stop staring did linger on the tip of his tongue. Not like she was the picture of normalcy, blood coating her fingertips where claws had retracted back and vanished. In turn, Kieran inhaled deeply to slow his rapid heartbeat, dragging focus away from the still aching wound on his arm to reclaim his glamor. 

“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, wondering for a moment if a bind was smart or whether the knowledge of mutual secret sharing was enough. It was probably fine, seeing as she didn’t really know much at all about him, anyway. The park ranger continued speaking timidly and Kieran decided he definitely preferred the intense version willing to fight literal tooth and nail (claw). 

His eyes moved from the warden’s face, still menacing even in this state of unconsciousness. Why hadn’t he pushed the shifter to change fully, tear into this man like he so clearly deserved? Kieran regretted the hesitation, the waste of power he could have wielded but didn’t, a way to make sure this warden never tracked him down again. He still could. The thought floated tantalizingly around his head, vision of blood covering this cabin floor to ceiling, the helpful ranger shifting back into the mess she’d made… She didn’t seem the type to take enjoyment from it if her current manner was anything to go off, her reluctance to step in before Kieran made her. 

It didn’t fit. 

A shifter, someone powerful, working in a job like this? Helping humans who have gotten themselves into dumb dilemmas (along with the occasional handsome faun in trouble through no fault of his own). At least Wyatt’s job, lack of control he seemed to have over it, seemed fitting for something so deadly. This woman was just… confusing. You should go. 

As much as Kieran didn’t like being told what to do, the shifter wasn’t wrong. And despite his knack for reading people, he didn’t have but the tiniest insight into the park ranger. Maybe she was meek except when it came to exacting revenge on people who made her murder hunters. Kieran wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of another Emilio situation except this time, against a wild animal. “I think you’re right,” he admitted, somewhat reluctantly, shifting back a few steps towards the door. “Guess I’ll see you around.” He did kind of want to, mildly curious now. And, as he realized once he was quite a ways from the wretched public park, he had a handkerchief to return. Not to mention making sure no secrets got spilled. 

[bloodysparklez]

wake up babe, hua cheng saying "as you wish" in the new tgcf dub episode just dropped

[wildflowercryptid]

i'm about to pass out at my desk, but have this stupid ass doodle i did before i go sleep.

[mafuaato]

サイコソーダ

i seem to always draw sgr when im struggling :’)

[sghr10423]

some Kierans while I try to re-figure-out how to draw... people.

ft. a small sghr doodle, some assorted pokemon, and some fun with screentones

[moonselkies]

i hope in the end they got to all settle down and choose a movie to watch together

(details under the cut)

[cheriboms]

everybody was very nice on my last post(s) so !!! more cole and manfred be upon you :D

[colourful-void]

bringing the wild and radical take into sv dlc discussion that i dont think that kieran like, consistently objectifies ogerpon or the player. part of it is just vibes, and im just going off memory here, but like, if it Is him objectifying you or ogerpon, i dont think that means he doesn't see either as living, thinking people. which is a take i've seen?? a few too many times?

when kieran takes you to the dreaded den, his dialouge is soemthing like 'it must be so lonely here, poor guy. i would've let it stay at our house...."

which. that's empathy! he's doing an empathy right there! he sees it as something that thinks and feels??

it's such an odd thing to have as an arguement actually, because "kieran thinks about how the ogre feels" is like. a massive part of his characterization in the games beginning?? the whole point is that kieran looks at this monster of myth and then Thinks About How It Would Feel to be in that situation.

moreover like... reducing Kieran this way kind of takes away from the alternative, which is that Kieran DOES see you and Ogerpon as people, he DOES want the best for you. Don't forget how many times Kieran says "i know this is wrong, but i need it." how he apologizes for stealing the mask, for trying to catch ogerpon. when he loses that battle he apologizes and cries. he doesn't steal ogerpon, he congratulates you even. his hatred is directed at himself twelve more times than it is to you or anyone else and that's a REALLY important part of his character!

Kieran sees you and Ogerpon as people, not just Symbols of Strength or things to possess! But Kieran is DESPERATE, so when he thinks he's going to lose (or lose the oppertunity to have) either of you as friends, that's when he starts trying to cling onto you. him knowing how you/ogerpon feel, but doing these things anyway is the Point. it hurts because you're both hurting, but he doesn't know what else he can do. and maybe this time, if he's a little stronger, things will be different. then he'll be good enough for you/ogerpon to want to Stay.

[d4rkwater]

Foi um dos conselheiros escolhido por Quíron para receber os recém chegados e ajuda-los com o que fosse preciso, mas quando seus olhos encontraram o filho de Anfitrite, um riso soprado saiu de seus lábios. Ele não tinha motivos para desconfiar de ninguém, mesmo com tudo o que vinha acontecendo, mas de Kieran? Ah, ele fez questão. Tudo isso poderia ser diferente se o mais velho não tivesse implicado tanto e – em alguns casos – até arrumando confusão com Joseph quando ele ainda era só um pré-adolescente enquanto o outro, bom, parecia crescer apenas na idade. Não só levou para o coração o que ocorreu no passado como fez questão de descontar na competição de canoagem. Dificultar a vida do outro não era o suficiente, Josh tinha que comentar e ainda zombar da péssima performance do outro. E quando ele se aproximou, tão cheio de si, o filho de Poseidon fez o mesmo. ― Qual é o meu problema? Qual é o seu! Você que é ruim e não aceita isso, já experimentou trocar de esporte? ― A diferença de altura era notável, o que facilitou ainda mais para o filho de Poseidon peitar o mais velho. ― Chegou tem menos de um mês e quer sentar na janelinha? Alias, muito suspeito isso, não acha? Todo esse tempo sem ouvir o chamado e aparecendo bem quando os campistas caiem no submundo. ― Não era necessária uma justificativa para brigarem, bastava uma fagulha para o fogo se alastrar em meio as acusações.

❪　　this is a closed starter for @d4rkwater. 　　❫             *　após a competição da primeira bateria de canoagem, nas olimpíadas.

Dizer que estava enferrujado de lutas poderia soar como uma falácia já que passou alguns meses tentando sobreviver e correr de monstros. Mas no acampamento? Isso sim estava totalmente desorientado. Ainda assim, sua chegada a um mês lhe deu ao menos um tempo hábil de tentar não ficar tão feio assim naquelas olimpíadas. Embora achasse tudo meio estranho porque depois de uns meses em sobrevivência, ter uma cama para dormir e um local teoricamente seguro para ficar melhor que os buracos que se enfiava, era o melhor, então se permitiu relaxar. No entanto alguns hábitos nunca morreriam e mesmo sendo um adulto responsável antes e muito mais agora, Joseph e ele tinham uma rivalidade que nunca morria. Foi nervoso que Kieran saiu do seu lago e caminhar diretamente para o semideus. ❝ ― Qual é o seu problema, cara? ❞ — Questionou já que conseguiu ouvir de longe as azarações dele contra sua equipe. ❝ ― Vê se dá um tempo. ❞

[javierduffy]

but when they're out on that river bank alone, what javier should be loyal to doesn't feel as confusing anymore

[feargender]

I think this perspective is mainly informed by living for the majority of my life in red states, where the touch of a democratic federal government was rarely ever felt, but here’s a tip:

We all need to stop relying on presidents to save us. I’m not saying don’t vote, I voted! I vote in every election, not just the presidential election. But look at it this way. Migrants were still being detained in border prisons along the Mexico-US border under Biden. Obama saw us through war in the Middle East. The Supreme Court overturned Roe v Wade under Biden. States have continued to restrict eligibility for Medicaid and other welfare programs. Many southern states have become essentially inhospitable to trans life. The wheel of fascism doesn’t stop turning just because someone wearing a blue tie is sitting at a fancy desk. I am not talking about whether or not it will be “worse” or “better”, whether the wheel turns slowly or quickly. I am talking about the fact that the United States government is inherently a destructive and oppressive system, and no one person can change that.

The communities we form to defend ourselves and each other from a fascist state cannot be based off of or beholden to who is in the Oval Office. Go to that pro-Palestine event, volunteer your time with local grassroots organizations that matter to you, show up to that school district meeting where they talk about transgender students. When the cops show up at your house, Kamala won’t help you. The neighbor who comes over in her pajamas and robe to back you up will. When you can’t afford your medications, and you’re ineligible for your state’s Medicaid, there is not a democratic president in that moment who will fix this for you. Maybe it’s on their docket, but for right now, you’re broke and need those meds. You’re better off knowing what phone number you need to call to have a public health worker scrounge up some vouchers and coupons for you.

If the public transportation system in your city sucks, go find out who is in charge of that and bother them about it. If you are worried about over policing in your community, find a local abolition group and see what they want to do about it. If there isn’t one, find another leftist organization and stir up interest. If you’re seeing a lot of homeless people on your way to work, find out what’s wrong with the shelters and if there’s anyone you can support who is trying to fix it.

I feel like a lot of people associate the term “mutual aid” with cashapp links. Or they think that hating the current political system is all you need to be a leftist. If you don’t connect with your community, online or in person, through one form of political action or many, you will never see the revolution you’re waiting for. You’ll never know that change, good or bad, is happening all around you if you only count it when it happens due to a new presidential administration. It’s ok to fret! I’m worried!! I’m worried about the presidency and Congress and the Supreme Court. But realistically, there’s not a ton most individuals can do about that. I cannot make my vote count toward the presidency from within my red state. But I can improve my local community by knowing what the propositions at the bottom of my ballot mean.

[wildflowercryptid]

dumping a bunch of meme edits at 4am like a well adjusted member of society. also debut of the bb!jules edit i made a while, but then never shared.

[ofcruelheart]

Atlas first discerns Kieran's presence not through sight but sound, his ears tracing the cacophony of curses that reverberate against a metallic, hollow echo. Clad in a suit, a garb as foreign to his spirit as the opulent boardroom he had just left, Atlas moves with a grace ill-suited to his tailored attire. He had been mingling with a fellow board member, a man as groomed and pliable as a pampered poodle, who capitulated too readily over a cup of decaffeinated coffee and a subtly veiled threat. The suit clings to Atlas like a second skin, one that chafes against his true nature; he longs for the tunics of his past, garments that whispered of wasteland winds and storms.

Approaching the dumpster, he observes the spectacle of Kieran emerging in a tumble, a comedic yet pitiful sight, lamenting the state of his testes and teetering on the brink of tears.

"You're creating a scene," Atlas says, his voice a smooth, authoritative tapestry, starkly different from the hoarse timbre of his usual speech. His words are dipped in feigned disdain, though in truth, this spectacle is more exasperating than shocking; such scenes are not strangers to his eyes.

"Come now, Kieran," he says, his tone mild, tinged with a fondness. "Surely, this isn't the direst bed you've been in."

Open to: All | Location: A dumpster

“Ohh, crikey! what’s that bloody smell?” Kieran exclaimed, emerging from the dumpster he’d passed out in, glancing at all the trash about him as he tried to locate the rancid smell’s source.

Instead, his hand brushed against a used condom, groaning in disgust as he held the rubber up. “So unsanitary.” He grumbled, tossing it to the curb, surprising someone walking their dog. “Move along, thunder cunt!” He yelled at them. “Nothing to see here, I’m doing grand!” 

He mumbled to himself as he ungracefully climbed out, his foot catching on some trash and sending him tumbling with an unforeseen clip to the balls.  “Ah, me testicles!” He hollered, hitting the concrete with his hands between his legs, tears in his eyes. Fucking grand way to start the day, this was. If only his dear old Ma could see him now.

[queerasian]

Emmy for Supporting Actor in a Drama Series: Matthew Macfadyen

[fruifruit]

sunny the music box has been in my head for like ever so i had to make my own JLKFDS

[tlkdraws]

Colored doodle of my jealous husbando 😩💕

He was so cute in the epilogue uuuuuuugh