#ironic I came to doom scroll for a bit after working on the end of chapter 1 of chazzerella and slade just hit him during the scene- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noteguk · 3 years

Text

bad attitude | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though!

— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of.

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry

— words; 7,2k

— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation.

Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;)

Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target.

Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all.

And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved.

Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex.

Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed.

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?”

You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs.

Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”

His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him.

Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.”

With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”

“Not at all,” he complained.

The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?”

Be good?

Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention.

In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss.

It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem.

In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits.

Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening.

Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time.

As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned.

The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.”

He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”

“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."

“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.”

He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way.

Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved.

You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked.

Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.”

Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”

But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history.

Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer.

And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member.

If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.”

Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away.

“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”

“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?”

He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.”

He frowned. “Or what?”

You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.”

Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his.

Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.”

And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.”

You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.”

He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move.

Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking.

“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.”

It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”

“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.”

They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried.

You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.”

He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up.

“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.”

Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.”

He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.”

“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.”

“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.”

“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.”

That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you.

The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped.

What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said.

“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.”

As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.”

And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”

He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.”

You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”

“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?”

A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.”

You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly.

With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”

“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined — when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”

You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.”

“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.”

You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?”

“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.”

“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock.

With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”

“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.”

His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release.

“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”

Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased.

Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said.

“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.”

You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?”

It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.”

You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.”

And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.”

A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?”

He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.”

You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him.

After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that.

“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.”

That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him.

“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.”

“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?”

He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.”

No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you.

Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point.

His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.”

Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”

You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes.

“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.”

With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was.

“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.”

Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside.

“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.”

You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“

“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat.

The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath.

“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.”

Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it.

“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“

“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”

check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

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bluem0use · 4 years

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It's about time I introduced you to the cast of The Crackin'-Up Studios. Don't worry. You'll be seeing them again, especially in the mini-comics!

**In order from top to bottom, left to right**

Billie Bob Willie-Nillie Black Sheep: The overall face of The Crackin'-Up Studios itself. She is the ring leader to the whole circus. The pilot to all the flight attendance. The manager to a corporate office. You get the whole idea. She's one poppin' fire-cracker (A.K.A. has a short temper) that's all for the business, but doesn't mind getting silly from time to time. On screen, she is the definition of unpredictable and crazy, fun and silly. She's a gun happy country gal that started off small and came out big with her talents for making people laugh. She worked hard to get her way to the top. And all of it has obviously paid off. If someone was to use words to describe her, it would be fun, loving, friendly, brave, courageous, generous, the list could go on and on. This gun-loving little lady, no matter where she goes, always somehow seems to change people's lives. And for the better.

Poochie Pooh Poodle: Billie's partner-in-crime. Her bestest friend since her younger years. Her ride or die buddy. Poochie is the main co-star to the series, and a serious eye-candy to men. While Billie is featured as the funny, wacky, unpredictable, quirky character on-screen of the trio, Poochie is often featured as the sex-appeal. The sex symbol. The hot mama. She also models as a little side job whenever necessary. She's the sweetest sweetie-pie you will ever meet in your life. However, proceed with caution. When provoked, she's one sassy gal and won't hesitate to give you a mouthful (and probably a gun wound) if you mess with her, or her friends.

Wolfie Blackfang Wolf: What's the three musketeers without a male in the picture? Wolfie may not have known these two women as long as they've known each other, but their his closest family he's ever had since he left the orphanage. He is also the main co-star to the series, accompanied by being the musical genius of the three. Since a young boy, Wolfie has practiced music as not only his hobby, but his life. His alluring ability was able to trap the young black sheep and poodle in a trance on a fateful night in a club where he worked to try and make a living, thus landing him a job and a ticket to materialization through the ladies. From there, he has always acted as the stud of the three, protecting them whenever they needed an extra hand and also charming women with his attractive voice along the way.

Candy Bat: This "monster", this "usually nocturnal creature of the night", this "mysterious shadow" is nothing but a sweet treat in the eyes of many who travel far and wide to Nightwalk Bay to get a taste of his sweet treats at the local candy shop. At least, that's what Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie will tell ya. Famous for his line of business, Candy Bat is a harmless, humble candy man..err..bat that seeks nothing but to fill the mouths of the fortunate with a sweet after-taste. His delicious pastries, frozen desserts, and fizzy drinks aren't the only thing that appeals to the eyes of many. He's also a support character at The Crackin'-Up Studios during the day and a friendly (but hissy, due to his uncontrollable excited hisses whenever he meets someone new and/or is excited) candy shop-keeper at night.

Scratches: Whoa, watch out for that web! There's a BIG spider up there! And his name is none other than Scratches, yet another support cast character for The Crackin'-Up Studios. When in the presence of my six-armed friend, be cautious. Scratches loves the ladies and will go through extreme lengths to entangle you in his web, if he deems you a worthy enough mate. Don't worry fellas, he doesn't swing that way. Though..spider's gotta eat, right? What? Spiders only eat insects? Not this playful, flirtatious one. Note that this spider is dead, and has been ressurrected after a deal made by Ozzan (scroll down to reference Ozzan's bio). Therefore, Scratches likes human flesh too. Dont worry too much though. He's too busy chasing both Poochie and Billie around the studios, trying to declare his love for them. Though...something about a huge demon spider just..turns those two ladies off.

Honey Hyena: As the name implies, this hyena is sweet as honey! Raised on a bee farm, this little lady never expected to end up being a supporting cast character to The Crackin'-Up Studios. That was, until a little Black Sheep mozied on over and decided to offer her the position and the materialization process just like everyone else. She figured the nice lady would need the money boost besides "Milkin' bees all day long" - Billie. Honey loves bees. In fact, on her days off from woking at the studios, that's all she does! Is work, work, work at her long-descended family bee farm, making honey and selling it for some dough (money) as a side job. She is also the motherly figure to all the cartoon ladies on set and often tries to share her knowledge with them in hopes she can help guide them on the right path. I mean, not everyone is perfect, right?

Bon Isabell Bunny: Daughter of a long deceased magician (who was, ironically a white bunny), she has seeked to find more support by becoming a supporting cast character to the TV series. However, though, she wasn't looking to be a supporting character when offered the job by Billie Bob. Bon has a bit of a...strong hatred for Billie Bob. Bon saw how much love and respect the black sheep got, even from her "enemies". So, what does this tempered (its just as bad as Billie's, trust me), quick-to-anger, grumpy gal do? Well, it's like they say, "Kill the sheep, take her wool!". That is...if she could catch her first. Forever caught in this game of cat-and-mouse on screen and off screen, Bon decided to settle into this position for now. Hopefully one day, her magic tricks and traps can pay off and actually earn her a spot in the lead position.

Bon Iseah Bunny: Twin brother to the other Bon Bunny, this bunny seems the complete opposite of his sister. This magic bunny doesn't mind being a supporting cast character, and instead enjoys making others smile with her magic tricks and qurkiness. After all, its what his deceased magician father would have wanted. He admires Billie and everything that she does not only for everyone else, but herself. He just hopes with time, his sister can see that. For now, this calm bunny will just have to play as yin to his sister's yang (A.K.A., trying his best to calm her in her most stressed and ferocious moments).

Molly Cow: Before her rise to fame as another member of The Crackin'-Up Studios crew, Molly Cow, the half-pig half-cow offspring, could not keep a job to save her life! She was lazy, less focused, often slacking or ducking off, and/or giving up before she even set foot in the door! The funny thing is, she wouldn't care, and just go back to living with her parents. Seeing as though Molly's confident and care-free attitude was a necessity to bring on some laughs, all Billie had to do was offer a hand to the voluptuous, intriguing young woman and for some odd reason, this cartoon has managed to keep the job ever since. Side note, if you ask her what her "other" job would be whenever she brings it up, it would be shopping. She is ALL about the fashion!

Malachi (formerly known as "Michael Jamesking"): Yes, Malachi is actually an angel. AND, he is also a featuring asset to the team whenever needed. With the help of one of Veronica's potions (scroll down to reference Veronica's bio), he has the ability to shrink down to size on command. He also is a good line of defense if life-threatening danger ever be-falls the company, for even if he is a judgement angel, he is considered very powerful against a mortal (unless demon weapons are used against him). He is pure, friendly, and kind, however, you must not associate yourself with the presence of evil upon first meetings. He IS a jugement angel after all and will be quick to judge you and shame you for your choice of sin and avoid you like the plague while also be-littleing you. Ironically, the only exception to this treatment is Ozzan (his best friend in all universes) and Bendy (in the head-canon canon universe). Also note, Malachi was never always Malachi. Malachi was once Michael, a regular, normal, working business man who unfortunately got hit by a car on his morning rush to work.

Ozzan: Oh boy. This one's a bad one. If you thought Scratches (scroll up to reference Scratche's bio) was bad, wait until you get a load of this one! This foul-mouthed, ill-mannered, obnoxious, flirtatious pervert is somehow a necessity to The Crackin'-Up Studios. His crude sense of humor and anctics tend to get a good laugh out of adults more than oblivious children. He will flirt with anything, sleep with anything, hell even risk catching some sort of SEXUAL DISEASE for anything that has legs. This man lives, breathes, and embraces everything that is bad at every cost, every time. Its possibly why he was so close to Lucifer (the Devil) back when he was in Hell. Though, take caution. If you piss him off (which isn't really hard to do), he WILL tear you to bits and peices with his bare fists. Also, beware of tentacles and trendils ladies. He has them everywhere and can use them not only in battle, but also for...other things. So beware and..make sure your doors are locked.

Veronica Bat: Born "Daddy's Little Monster", Veronica is the daughter of Candy Bat and Valentine Naxxremis (formerly Bat)(She will be referenced in the next ref). For most of her life, she has lived with her mother and embraced her witch-hood, which usually ends up with the little gloom and doom bookworm getting bullied for being a "half-breed". However, her luck gets turned around when she meets Billie Bob (like a lot of these people's do) who helps instill in her to be happy to be herself and to screw what everyone else says..and to also get back at them at all costs. She looks up to Billie and Poochie as her "Aunties", though, has trouble getting along with her father. She was raised to believe she had left her and her mother and never really loved them. Which, is obviously not true, but, she has a hard time believing that. Once welcomed to the cast, Veronica is a huge hit with the goth little teen girls who aspire to be like her: beautiful and mysterious. Let's just hope she gets he powers under control first, for she struggles with that a great deal on screen for comical effect and off screen.

Patricia Greene Pig: (A/N: She probably has had the MOST change out of all of them, so beware) Patricia is Delloris's (scroll down for Delloris's bio) bestest friend since childhood. Snobby, rude, sassy, class. All of these combined makes her perfect for scenes where she's the girl that thinks she's too good for the male trying to win her heart. Likes are, their only trying to "woo" it for her money. Oh, did I mention she's very wealthy? Her and Delloris aren't friends for nothing. You have to have some sort of status when it comes to getting in goods with the mayor's one and only daughter. Also note that Patricia is an EXTREME germo-phobe and will pelt you down with germ-x if you've so much as TOUCHED an un-sanitized door knob.

Hank Kat: Hank Kat has been an aspired musician since he was a little boy. He has really known the struggles of what it's like to be broke from both of his poor parents. So, as a way to raise some money, he went out on the streets and played his father's old rusty trumphet for some pocket change. Crowds were so awed at his talent, before long, Hank was hitting the clubs to try and win over some cash to take care of his parents once he became of age. Similar to Wolfie, Poochie had just so happened to stumble upon him. Though they didn't exactly see eye-to-eye due to species war, they were able to put their differences aside the night they had spent together, dancing the night away. As they danced, Poochie would listen to this party-goer's story and become sympathetic for the poor fellow. Thus, she figured his wallet could be fed a little more and thus offered for him to be a support character on the team. With his toe-tappin', feed stompin', hand wavin; jams that he can play on trombone, trumphet, pretty much just about any instrument he could blow into, he would become not only a major asset to the supporting cast, but also the music, both at his day job at the studios and his night job in the clubs.

Puncho: This "unstoppable brick wall" can take a punch and also pack it. After all, they don't call him "Puncho" for nothing! Though he's not much of fan favorite unless it comes to his famous boxing episodes, Puncho is a well-served supporting cast in the crew. He's often seen alongside his partner, Scraps Skunk (scroll down for Scrap's bio), no matter what the situation. He has a temper just like Billie, girl Bon, and Ozzan, however, instead of unleashing it by yelling at coworkers and throwing large objects (Billie), chasing someone down the hall with a chainsaw (Girl Bon), or spewing a bunch of curse words that's enough to make a sailor blush (Ozzan), he lets out his steam in the ring. He is the undefeated champion (if you don't count his and Billie's first brawl in one of her posters) within the boxing ring and anyone who dare wants to challenge him in taking his belt, well. Better be prepared for the pain. Bring a lot of ice.

Scraps Skunk: A timid, shy soul who is pure and good at working the ring as a referee. He plays fair though, he always will support his bestest friend, Puncho no matter what. His often scared, frightened, shaky attitude is welcomed on screen whenever needed. He was often bullied through his childhood and unlike those who have toughed up from it, he only seemed to soften. Hell, even Billie has chewed him out for his overly push-over nature. Though, she gives up. For nothing can change this poor man's soft heart and kind ways.

Wallis Moose: What else to say about this guy besides him obviously being a horrible detective? After his first appearance as one in one of Billie's episodes, Wallis fell in love with the idea of being one and even off screen, tries to solve "mysteries" wherever he is needed. However, he always slips up short and makes himself to be a fool. How did he even earn a spot on the team? Well, to put it simple, Wallis is a stone cold, hard drunk. He drinks and drinks and drinks, and when he's hiccuping and stumbling all over the place, Billie couldn't help but find it amusing the first time they met. After all, the first night they met, they both danced drunkinly through the streets of Nightwalk Bay, where they somehow met. As kooky as it sounds, it actually happened. Believe me.

Chico Georgina Chick: This once poor broken flapper was able to leave her broken past of having to prostitute herself on the streets and go some nights starving behind. Coincidentally, Chico was given another opportunity at a better life by Hank Kat (scroll up for Hank's bio), who happened to run into her at one of the clubs and show her a much better life than what she was living by offering her a position at the studios and materialization through the machine. Now a re-born, classy lady, this former flapper...heh...well, let's be honest. Girl loves to party and dance like there's none tomorrow, is ready to bring all the club's joy and bump to the table on screen. Hank is often seen by her side, playing away on his trumphet while she dances on top of a table. Nothing too promiscuous or provocitive. Want to keep the adult's attention but not as much. She's known as the party girl out of the group and also knows a thing or two about fashion. Also, keep her as FAR away from Molly (scroll up for Molly's bio) as possible..they fight a lot.

Delloris Acorn: Delloris is the beloved daughter of the mayor of Toon City, within the alternate world where cartoons "live". Her mother died giving childbirth and though she never knew her mother. She was always expected to act lady-like and proper, is why she carries herself that way. Though, the day Billie met Delloris and her father and was allowed to spend the day with her, Billie turned her upside down and all around. To the point Delloris came home, dress cut into a tank-top, short short overalls, knee-high socks, messy hair, and busted shoes. Billie's excuse was they were pig wrestling (no pun intended Patricia). Her father was awfully upset and almost demanded Billie to be arrested, however, Billie's sly deal to offer Delloris a spot at the studios was the only thing that saved her from some jail time. Now, while away from her rich and perfect life as the mayor's "little princess", she's allowed to get down and dirty. Especially on screen where down and dirty are necessary for some laughs.

Mad Mouse (also known as "Maddison K Mouse"): Why is this mouse so quiet and mysterious? Why does he never speak or even take off his goggles? Wait, is this mouse even a "he" at all? Well, yes and no. To put a long story short, back in these days and times of the early 1900s, women weren't taken seriously. Even toon women. Born a genius, the only way to get people to notice her freakishly large brain talent is to disguise herself as a man and as to go as "Mad Mouse" instead of "Maddison Mouse". However, her little secret couldn't be kept that long, for an incident in her labs caused her to lose part of her disguise and have to come clean to Billie, Poochie, and Wolfie. It was through them who helped her realize that, no matter who you are, your voice deserved to be heard no matter what. From that point on, this support cast member decided to cease wearing the disguse and be her actual self. Though, I wouldn't mess with this quiet little genius. She's a little...mad (crazy), as the legends and cartoons portray her as.

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johaerys-writes · 4 years

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Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan

A World With You, Chapter 23: Traitors and Tales

Tristan finally meets Hawke’s Warden contact, the infamous Loghain Mac Tir. Everyone knows him as the Traitor Teyrn, yet he isn’t the only one whose loyalty is in question.

Read here or on AO3!

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“You’re Loghain Mac Tir?” Tristan breathed, blinking in disbelief. “ The Loghain Mac Tir?”

The man before him stood tall and proud in his Grey Warden uniform. The uniform itself had seen better days, worn at the cuffs and its metal buckles dull with time and wear, but one wouldn’t know it by the way the Warden held himself. He rested his hand on his sword hilt, his unflinching gaze fixed on Tristan. He had an imposing presence, seeming to take much more space in the room than a man of his size should, and the look of someone that expected his commands to be obeyed, no matter who he was talking to. And they probably would.

Still. Tristan could not possibly be talking to the Loghain Mac Tir.

“The Traitor Teyrn?” the man said. His brows drew down in a frown, the lines of his forehead deepening. “The very same. I assume you’ve heard all the names. I’ve been a Warden for ten years, yet I’ll never be considered anything else.”

So. It really was him. The man that had risked losing Ferelden and the rest of Thedas to the darkspawn, that had doomed King Cailan and the vast majority of the Grey Wardens to death at the battle of Ostagar. The man that had plotted and schemed to keep himself in power, even when most Banns were against him. The man who had been forced to join an Order he had betrayed, and for all intents and purposes was now about to betray again. That was the man that Hawke had brought him to meet, that would give him answers about the state of the world.

Tristan frowned. They would have a lot to say after this.

“Hawke here tells me that you know why the Grey Wardens have disappeared,” he said, crossing his arms before his chest. “You believe that Corypheus might have something to do with it.”

“That is correct,” Loghain replied, his voice calm and steady. “It is my belief that Corypheus is the key. After Hawke killed him, Weisshaupt was content to forget the entire affair. But if I’ve learnt anything from all those years of being a Warden, it’s that blighted creatures can survive even seemingly mortal wounds. Why not Corypheus?” He turned away, taking a step towards the old desk, where maps and scrolls were laid out. “I began to investigate. I found evidence, but no proof. Soon after, all the Wardens started hearing the Calling.”

“The Calling?” Tristan asked. He didn’t know much about the Grey Wardens, at least not as much as he would like. The Order had a way of keeping their affairs firmly behind the doors of their fortresses, and with the Blight having ended all those years before they had slowly but steadily faded into a state of semi-obscurity. Yet, that “Calling” definitely sounded ominous to him.

He glanced at Hawke, whose face had taken on a sickly pallor.

“So, the Wardens think their time has come,” he said slowly. “That they are being called into the Deep Roads, to make their final stand against the Blight before the Taint takes them. They think they’re… dying.” His fists tightened, and the muscles in his jaw clenched. “You never told me.”

“I didn’t believe it concerned you.” Loghain looked at Hawke over his shoulder, and Tristan thought he saw something akin to compassion flashing in those icy blue eyes, pale like the morning sky on a frosty winter’s day. Hawke’s gaze remained cold. Cold and angry.

A ball of apprehension settled in Tristan’s stomach. From the little he had seen of Hawke, he seemed like a man that was phased by very little. What was it about the Calling that could make him so angry?

Loghain let out a soft sigh as he turned around to face them. “The Calling is a portent, like crows circling the battlefield before the fighting. First, come the dreams. Then the whispers, just at the edge of hearing. That is when the Warden goes to the Deep Roads, to die with honor. But few people, even amongst the Wardens, know that the Calling is simply a sign of the Taint taking over. A Warden that hears the Calling can’t think clearly. All of the Grey Wardens hearing the Calling at once… that’s madness.”

“So, that’s why they’re hiding. They’re all in a panic,” Varric said. He was a little way away, leaning against the wall of the cave, his features obscured by the dancing shadows of the torch above him.

Loghain nodded. “They are.”

“Corypheus is imitating the Calling to scare them. And the Wardens are playing right into his hand.” Tristan shook his head, his frown deepening. “We need the Warden’s help, now more than ever. This is the worst possible time for them to be falling for a trick like that.”

“This is no mere trick, Inquisitor,” Loghain said. “I can hear too, at the back of my mind. Sometimes I catch myself humming it under my breath. I know it’s false, but that doesn’t make it any less real. The Wardens believe it is real, and that is all that matters.”

Tristan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his blood pounding at his temples. This was bad. Oh, this was very bad.

“Can you hear it, too, Blackwall?” he asked, turning to the only other Warden in his party.

Blackwall drew himself up, his eyes darting to Loghain and then to him. “I do not fear the Calling. Worrying about it only gives it power.”

Hawke’s gaze snapped momentarily to him, before returning to Loghain. His brows were drawn in a thoughtful frown, his lips pinched in a tight line.

Loghain gave Blackwall a look that coming from any other man would have looked like a glare, but the Warden just seemed... perplexed. He was watching them all carefully. At times, it felt as though not a single movement went unnoticed by his pale blue eyes. It probably didn’t.

Tristan pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath, hoping to ease the pressure of the headache that had started taking hold, an iron cinch around his skull. What Loghain was saying was outrageous. If Corypheus did indeed have that much control over the Wardens, they were all probably doomed.

That was… If what Loghain said was true. And Tristan still had little proof of that.

He fixed him with a hard look. Time for more questions, it seemed.

“We met some Grey Wardens just before coming here,” he told Loghain. “They wanted to take you back to Weisshaupt for questioning. Apparently, the Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens herself has ordered your capture. Why?”

Loghain returned his inquisitive gaze with a calm and composed one of his own. “Warden-Commander Clarel ordered an urgent meeting with all the Warden Commanders after it became known that all Wardens hear the Calling. She insisted, and most Wardens agreed with her, that a new Blight, perhaps the more devastating to date, is close at hand. She proposed a ritual involving blood magic. A desperate measure to prevent further blights. I protested the plan, called it madness. They tried to arrest me.”

Tristan opened his mouth to speak, but Solas was faster. He took a step forward, straightening up to his full height as he came to stand next to Tristan.

“What sort of ritual is this?” he asked Loghain. “What are the Wardens planning to do?” His voice was… not panicked. Not exactly. But there was the sort of urgency that was now gripping Tristan’s breath, too.

Loghain stared at Solas in confusion for a quick moment, then shook his head. “I do not know. Clarel wouldn’t say how she planned to do it, or where she had gotten the idea for it. Even had she said, I am no mage. Any details would be lost on me. But I know that tampering with blood magic is never a good idea. I wasn't the only one to oppose it, but my voice rings the loudest, I suppose.”

Sola’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing more.

“Where are they planning to do this ritual?” Hawke asked. Straight to the heart of the issue.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Loghain said. “I still have some informants in the Wardens, but they’re getting harder and harder to track down. I need time.”

“Time that, unfortunately, we do not have,” Solas replied quietly, and Loghain shot him a sharp look, his lips tightening visibly.

“Solas is right,” Tristan agreed. “If Corypheus is using them, things are infinitely more dire than originally thought. The Wardens cannot fall into Corypheus’ hands. If another Blight breaks out, there will be no one to stop it.”

"I'll do what I can," the grizzled Warden said, his expression stony and unyielding. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, Inquisitor, I have work to do. There's too much at stake to waste time with idle talk. "

*** Tristan was seething by the time they left the dark cave. Almond was chewing on a patch of sad and rain-soaked grass when he approached her. For a moment, he wished he was as untroubled as she was.

“We should water the horses,” he said, running a palm over her neck. “We have been riding them non-stop for hours.”

Blackwall nodded, and untied his own bay gelding’s reins. “I saw a small a creak on our way here. There were no darkspawn that I could see, but we should be wary.”

The brook that Blackwall led them to was narrow and bubbling, running swiftly over flat and slimy rocks. It was at the bottom of a small ravine, and finding a way around the large stones that seemed to sprout from every bit of ground was tricky, but in the end Blackwall was able to spot a path that would lead the horses there safely. By that time, the light drizzle had turned into proper rainfall, pattering on the hood of Tristan’s coat, running in small rivulets down his leather breeches, slithering into his boots and soaking his socks. If there was a place more miserable than this, Tristan didn’t know of it.

Cursing, he took out his flask from his coat pocket. Thankfully, he had remembered to bring it with him this time. The brandy -Antivan, earthy and aromatic- did work somewhat in warming him up. It didn’t do much to calm him down, though.

Loghain’s information had unsettled him to his very core. If everything he had said was true, then Corypheus had full control of one of the biggest military orders in Thedas, and the only one that could stand against a Blight. And if the Wardens were indeed preparing a blood ritual…

That had given Tristan pause. Why did it suddenly seem like everybody and their aunts were doing a blood ritual of some sort?

His fingers tightened around the mouth of his flask until his knuckles went white. Everything was so complicated and convoluted, that no matter how hard he tried to pick the threads apart, they kept getting tangled. If Dorian were there, he might have been able to talk through all this mess with him. He always seemed to have some brilliant insight to offer that Tristan hadn’t even thought of, no matter the subject at hand. And he always did have a way of asking all the right questions. Had he been there during the meeting with Loghain, he would have pressed the old Warden in a way none of the others could, gleaned every bit of information he held.

That was, if Loghain could be trusted. Something that was still very much in doubt.

The smell of burning smoking leaf reached him, and he glanced beside him at its source. Hawke had come to stand next to him, the soft orange glow of his pipe illuminating his face from within the darkness of his cowl. It unnerved Tristan more than he cared to admit that he never heard him walking up to him.

Hawke exhaled a thick, silvery cloud of smoke, then extended the pipe to him. “Want some?”

Tristan wrinkled his nose and looked away. “No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself,” Hawke replied with a shrug.

He might have been mistaken, but Tristan thought the rain was falling harder now, making him shiver and retreat further into his cloak. Or perhaps it was Hawke’s presence that was making him uneasy. There was something about him, something nagging at him, like an itch at the back of his brain that he couldn’t scratch. He took another sip of brandy to steel himself.

“How do you know Loghain?”

His question was abrupt, and his tone a tad sharper than he had intended. He felt Hawke stiffen beside him.

“I was looking for a friend when I learnt about the Grey Warden’s disappearance,” Hawke said simply. He brought his pipe up to his lips. Inhaled. Exhaled. The smoke blew past his lips, dispersing in the rain and wind around them. “I contacted Weisshaupt under an assumed name. Loghain happened to be in charge, and asked me to meet him. He already had his doubts about the Order at that time, so when he learnt who I was and what I had done, he offered to help.”

“I… see.” Tristan took another sip of brandy. Hawke’s answer had given rise to more questions, none of which would help enlighten him in the slightest. There was something missing still. Something in Hawke’s tone that he couldn’t put his finger on.

“Does my answer not satisfy you?”

Tristan bristled at his curt tone. He opened his mouth, then closed it, thinking.

“I suppose it comes as a surprise that you would trust someone like him for information,” he said carefully after a short while.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

His gaze met Hawke’s in an unabashed stare. “Was that a serious question?”

“I’m not sure. Was yours?”

Tristan frowned with the challenge in the other man’s voice. He took a deep breath, preparing to go straight for the offensive.“Loghain is known across Thedas as a traitor. He has betrayed country and king, and not just once. Now he’s willing to betray the plans of his own Order, an Order he has betrayed the past. You must be able to see my reservations,” he spat, making sure his words packed as much derision as he could fit into them. He turned to gaze at Almond, calmly drinking water, oblivious to the tension that had settled thick around them. When he threaded his fingers through her thick mane he realised they were trembling slightly, and he quickly shoved his hand back within the folds of his cloak. “You’ll be hard-pressed to find a person in the whole of Thedas that he hasn’t crossed.”

Hawke huffed a laugh. “The same could be said of me. Or you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Every time I hear news of you, you’ve made a new enemy. After your support of the mages, half the Templars and the Chantry would want nothing more than your Inquisition declared a heretical organisation and your head on a pike. Does that mean you can’t be trusted?”

“That’s hardly one and the same,” Tristan retorted, his irritation flaring hot and bright. “I had reasons for doing what I did. I did it to make people’s lives better, the only way I could at the time.”

“Anyone you ask will give you the same answer. I did what I did to make people’s lives better, or so I thought. And so did Loghain, I’m sure.”

Tristan scowled at him. “You can’t possibly believe that.”

Hawke turned around to face him, his expression very serious all of a sudden. “You forget that I’m a Fereldan first, Inquisitor, and then a Marcher. I know very well what he has done, and what his actions have cost the world. Still, he’s the only one that can help us at this point. What he has done in the past is irrelevant, compared to what he is willing to offer now. Sometimes, you have to suspend your disbelief in the face of utter chaos. Especially when you have no other options. Which I’m sure you don’t.”

Tristan gaped at him, his pulse beating madly against his throat. He tore his gaze away when he realised he had been staring, clicking his tongue in disgust. Almond whickered softly when he pulled her away from the creek and placed his foot on the stirrup.

“Let’s go,” he called to the others, deliberately steering his horse around Hawke, as if he were nothing but a tree trunk in his way. “It’s getting dark.”

No one spoke a word as they got on their horses. A deep, pensive silence had fallen over them all, the clop of their horses' hooves one the stony ground and the pattering of the rain the only sounds for a long while. They passed through empty villages and abandoned huts, their thatched roofs rotting on sopping wet beams.

The Grey Wardens they had met were not lying about the darkspawn either. Their eerie, guttural sounds and the hollow clanking of their decrepit armours echoed in the grey darkness that spread around them as the day rolled on. They took care not to venture too close to any of the abandoned settlements, staying clear off the main road. The darkspawn, oddly, left them alone. Soon, Blackwall started talking with Varric, and Hawke joined in their conversation, and it almost - almost - felt like things were back to normal. Only they weren't.

As he swayed rhythmically on his saddle, Tristan's head felt as if it were about to burst.

He let out a soft sigh and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, wishing for a miracle that would somehow end his troubles. The lightning strike that fell just a few feet away, making a sad, leafless tree explode, would have been ideal. Alas, his luck didn’t extend so far.

“We should look for the nearest Inquisition camp,” Varric said, his voice muffled from within his hood. “I’m not staying in this rain for much longer.”

“Ah, how I’ve missed this,” Hawke said with a wide smile. His earlier somberness seemed to have completely disappeared, as though he and Tristan had never exchanged a word.“Still haven’t found your love for the outdoors, old friend?”

Varric huffed a laugh, that was broken up by a shiver. “Don’t think I ever will, Poppy.”

“Poppy?” Blackwall asked. “Where did that come from?”

Varric opened his mouth to speak, when Hawke interjected. "Something that happened many, many years ago. I'm sure Varric will spare us all from hearing it.”

“No way I'm leaving our friends in the dark, Hawke!” Varric chuckled. “It's Captain Poppy, to be exact. Do you want to tell them the story, or shall I?"

Hawke rolled his eyes. “I had hoped we would avoid that, but some things are just too much to hope for, aren’t they?”

“You’re damned right they are!” Varric said cheerfully. “I’ll say it if you don’t want to. I’m a far better narrator anyway.” The dwarf straightened up on his saddle and cleared his throat, taking on a serious expression. “It was a dark and cloudless night in Lothering. Our hero - Hawke- was returning from a night at his favourite pub, The Frisky Minstrel-”

“The Tipsy Minstrel, Varric,” Hawke corrected. “She was tipsy, not frisky.”

“Let the writer embellish his stories in the way he sees fit, will you?” Varric protested. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes. It was a dark and cloudless night in the dead of winter when Hawke was approached by a nefarious stranger. “Greetings, young master,” the man said. “I am looking for someone to undertake an important quest.””

“What was the quest?” Blackwall asked. He seemed enthralled in Varric’s story.

“I was just getting there,” Varric said, shooting him a pointed look. He cleared his throat again, making his voice deep and raspy. “”Smuggle five sacks of poppy seeds on a small boat, under cover of darkness, from Lothering to a secret port in Redcliffe,” the stranger said. “That is all you need to do.” Hawke, as you can imagine, was intrigued. The quest was simple. The reward was handsome.”

Blackwall let out a short huff. “I bet you five sovereigns there were way more than ten sacks on that boat.”

“Hold on to your gold, Warden,” Hawke said somewhat gruffly, but the amused smirk on his lips hadn’t faded.

Varric made a dramatic pause, eyeing his audience. Even Solas had shifted slightly on his saddle to listen. Pleased, he continued. “Without hesitation, Hawke took up the man’s offer. “Aye, nefarious stranger,” said he. “I’ll do as you ask. I may be young, but I sure am brave.” Thus, our brave, young hero, still wet behind the ears and hanging from his mother’s skirts-”

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough,” Hawke stopped him, laughing. “You’re still as terrible a storyteller as you’ve always been, Varric.”

Varric’s eyes widened dramatically, and he looked at Hawke with an expression of wild affront. “Well, then why don’t you go on more interesting adventures so I don’t have to embellish as much?”

Tristan didn’t realise he had been listening attentively to their conversation, until Hawke turned towards him. “Don’t listen to him, Inquisitor,” he said affably, his smile dripping with barely concealed mockery. “Varric has a way of coming up with the most extravagant tales. You should hear what he says about you when you’re not around.”

Tristan rolled his eyes and looked ahead of him, scowling. How he wanted to wipe that smug grin off Hawke’s face. With his fist, preferably.

“Now, now, I’ve never talked about Blondie behind his back! Well. Perhaps only once or twice. And when my audience asked for it. Quite insistently, I may add,” Varric replied with a laugh. “Even Chuckles here has been known to enjoy my stories from time to time.” His wide smile didn’t falter an inch when Solas snorted derisively.

“It’s fascinating how whatever interest I lack in your stories, you’ll invent for me,” the elf retorted.

Blackwall let out a loud guffaw. “He’s got you there, Varric.”

The sudden din of battle in the distance cut everyone’s laughter short. Tristan pulled on Almond’s reins and glanced around him, trying to locate the source of the sound. A cloud of smoke rose towards the darkened sky, and it did not look like the smoke of a campfire.

“That must be coming from Crestwood village,” Hawke said, drawing his steed next to Tristan’s. “It looks like they’re under attack.”

“From whom?” Tristan asked, and felt foolish for asking.

Hawke gave him a wry, arrogant smile and kicked his stallion forward, its large hooves splashing in the mud as it picked up its pace. “We won’t know until we get there, will we now?”

#dorian pavus #dorian pavus fic #dorian fic #dorian x trevelyan #dorian x inquisitor #dorian/inquisitor #dorian/trevelyan #pavelyan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dorian x tristan trevelyan #aedan hawke #loghain mac tir #a world with you #johaerys writes

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azaleablueme · 6 years

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Starry Night

This is a surprise birthday one shot for @callieskye .

@callieskye because I just wrapped it up and wanted to post it while it’s still technically your b’day, it’s also unbeta-ed. @idearlylovealaugh will make it better, I promise!

UPDATE: This is now a beta-ed story, thanks to @idearlylovealaugh !!!

For now, enjoy the musings of 16-year-old Ron. I really hope you like it! 💖 💖 💖 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ONCE AGAIN SWEETY!!! ………

The mouldy, old wood creaked as Ron made his way up the stairs as quietly as he could manage to the tiny bedroom Hermione was sharing with Ginny.

He had ensured his sister was busy with the twins who were once again busy finding ways to sneak into the dining room that doubled as the meeting room for the Order. He’d have been there too; after all, Harry was still stuck with those Muggle relatives of his while the Ministry hearing hung over his head. It made Ron sick in the pit of his stomach to imagine what was at risk, but he trusted Dumbledore - surely the Headmaster would not let Harry be expelled. But despite all his vehement and hopeful arguments, the truth was that he was as worried as her- only he didn’t want her to know. She did all their share of worrying anyway, and he didn’t want his anxiety to seep into whatever little hope she had left. He had even helped her with her research, browsing through enormous volumes of law books that, in his opinion, could easily substitute for a strong dose of Sleeping Drought.

He knocked softly on the wood and when there was no response, pushed open the door and called.

“Hermione?”

The girl sitting on the bed in the dimly lit room looked up with a snap, and Ron noticed she had a smudged ink-stain near her brow, perhaps due to flicking of those shorter curls at her temple absentmindedly.

“Ron,” she responded in exhausted relief and a lazy smile materialised easily. He walked towards her, looking fondly at the pile of books surrounding her form. An inkpot was balanced precariously on top of three books and she was filling up a scroll, squeezing in words at the very end of the parchment.

Ron dragged the only and woefully old chair in the room, pulling it close to her and picking up one familiar volume as he sat down.

“Found anything new?” he asked, forcing his hands to flick the pages he knew he would never read if only to curb the urge to wipe the ink stain off her face.

She heaved a sigh, placed the quill in the pot and turned slightly to face him.

“A fair amount of similar cases where the judgement went in favour of the accused. I’ve noted them all with the dates and a synopsis of the case and the verdicts. Do you think we should give this to Dumbledore?”

Ron noticed the creases on her brow and the quiver in her voice, and it tugged painfully in his heart.

“We haven’t seen much of him lately, have we?”

She nodded and seemed to scan the books, absentmindedly searching for some more material. “We can give it to Remus, or your Dad perhaps?” she asked hopefully.

He knew she was trying to keep the jitters away by drowning herself in research work, the only thing she could do while stuck in this woeful place.

“Guess we can do that,” he replied, although he knew that Dumbledore probably wouldn’t need it. “The twins and Ginny are trying to find out what they are discussing,” he added in hope to get her out of the room. However, her face fell and she looked away quickly, busing herself with corking the inkpot and setting it aside.

“You don’t want to know?” he guessed, hunching over ever so slightly to reach her. Merlin, when would he stop growing?! She looked pretty small when compared to him as it is.

“What’s the point, Ron, not like we’ll be allowed in the meetings anytime soon,” she grumbled bitterly.

“But we can try,” he insisted, hoping to cheer her up, “Fred said something about a new product that’ll help. They are just days from perfecting it.”

Hermione looked up, met his eyes and smiled- a tired, sad one that made him want to dash down the stairs, knock the door of the kitchen down, and force the Order to let her in. Didn’t they know, not knowing was almost physically painful for her?! And didn’t they know he’d do anything to make her happy?

Woah! Wait, What?!

He gazed bewildered at the girl who was not just one of his best friends but meant so much more in ways he didn’t quite understand himself. She was looking down again, busy sorting her books, and he was mighty glad about it too, for it would be absolutely barmy if she found him gawking at her.

Something happened at that moment, a desperation of sorts which he’d later find to occur every time in the future when Hermione would get upset. But fifteen-year-old Ron was too preoccupied with the curly brunette in front of him to bother deciphering the depth of his emotions. Instead, he stood up promptly and extended his hand.

“That’s it, C’mon, lemme show you somethin’.”

If she was surprised by his boldness it would certainly be dwarfed by his when she took his hand, and almost on reflex, he pulled her up. His heart was doing some wonky movements inside his chest and he hurried them towards the door lest it got some more funny ideas.

“Ron, where are we going?” she asked, hurrying to keep up as he dashed up the rickety old staircase, hand still firmly grasping hers. He couldn’t pause to ponder over how magical it felt to hold her this way, not now.

“Hold on, almost there,” he replied, without breaking steps. If he stopped now, he would surely do something absolutely mental(like pulling her into his arms or something crazier) and he had to avoid that scenario at all cost. He was way too young to die.

He paused only when he reached the tiny attic and pushed open the door. Hermione, who was holding the stitches on her side and panting, gasped.

“Wha-”

“C’mon. Not as bad as it looks, I swear,”

She looked up at him in contemplation and nodded once. “Well, what can this room have that we haven’t seen enough of already?” she mused and followed him inside.

He chuckled, “Not spiders, I assure you- but this…”

With practiced ease, he grabbed the rope hanging from the ceiling and pulled- a section of the slanted roof opened up just like he knew it would, and the floor extended to form a tiny balcony overlooking the park in the distance, complete with a wrought iron railing and the glittering sky adding a different kind of magic to the backdrop.

He watched as Hermione let out a soft gasp and then walked into the open space, taking in the view. Once again, his heart did some sort of a weird jiggle, but he had to admit, this time it was quite pleasurable a sensation.

He watched as Hermione held onto the railing, soaking in the freshness of the open air while her curls danced in the cool night breeze. He now knew it was an utter waste of time pretending otherwise. He fancied this girl.

Oh, fuck, alright, he was bloody insane about her.

‘Fancying’ could never describe his feelings enough. Two restless weeks alone at the Burrow before she arrived was all the proof he needed. At first, he had tried to convince himself that he missed the adventures they had together, or perhaps by some weird twist of fate, he’d got habituated to her nagging. He even tried to sway his brain into thinking that he only missed her bickering. And then he was sure he was just worried about her safety. But even a bigger moron than he would have eventually figured out what was common in all his arguments- her.

“Ron, how did you find this place?” she beamed, and he could feel his ears redden at the sight. The chill in the air had added pink to her cheeks, and that smile- Sweet Merlin! He was doomed to die of some painful curse of her own invention once she realised the things she was making him feel.

He looked away, pretending to watch the light-illuminated neighbourhood. “Just chanced upon this place before you arrived. Was trying to escape Mum’s chores.”

He glanced at her and noticed her bite her lower lip. Looking away quickly, he grabbed the rails harder than before. But then her hand was so close to his…

The first time he had found this place, his thoughts had created an image very similar to this- Hermione, the night sky and him- all by themselves. Ron didn’t think he had it in him to bring her here though. It would need far more courage than he possessed.

All his actions tonight were instinctive. He knew he fancied her, but that wasn’t all. There was a strange kind of twist in his heart whenever she got upset and he wasn’t quite sure if it came as a part of the package of fancying someone. But then, she wasn’t just his crush but also his best friend. And while he could do nothing for Harry who was possibly going bonkers with those lunatic, muggle relatives of his, Ron could at least try to help Hermione relax.

“Do you think they can see us?” she asked all of a sudden, scooting closer and pointing at some muggles down in the street.

“Don’t think so, this is an extension of the house which is invisible,” he replied, forcing himself to ignore the tingling in his arm that was practically touching the side of her arm.

She sighed softly, scooting a tiny bit more to close the gap between them, resting her head on his arm. “Harry will be okay, right, Ron?”

“Of course, we’ve got Dumbledore,” he replied fiercely.

How long would he be able to hide his feelings under layers of bickering and arguments? That was supposed to be his backup plan; no one would notice the change in him since he seemed to be an expert at making her cry anyway. The thought made him queasy. No, no more making her cry. Bickering would have to do. But that was for another day when the lioness in her would bite back at him with equal vigour. For now, all he needed was her to relax.

“Thank you, Ron. I needed this,” she whispered, and he grabbed the railing harder. His hand seemed to be trying its best to wrap around her shoulder.

“Wanna go downstairs?” he asked. This had to be about what she needed and not what he wanted.

“Let’s stay a little longer, please?”

“Alright,” he replied and she looked up at him and beamed before looking away.

He smiled and relaxed, and Hermione seemed to snuggle closer.

Perhaps someday in the distant future, he’d allow himself wrap that arm around her and pull her into him. Someday, it would be alright and not so selfish to dream. Maybe, by some miracle, Hermione wouldn’t curse him for having these feelings, maybe… The list of his wishes that involved her seemed to be unending.

But tonight, he had made her smile. That was enough for him for now.

#romione #callieskye's b'day fic #wish her the best!#coz she is awesome #your favourite era ron for you my dear!!!

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nancypullen · 4 years

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What’s New?

Seriously, tell me what’s up with you. I’m so sick of the saturation of bad news (what’s next, a plague of locusts?) that I would love to hear about your cousin’s new shed or the new paint color in your bathroom. How’s the garden doing? Seen any good movies lately? Read any good books? I’m thirsty for something that isn’t doom and gloom. I purposely follow Instagram accounts that showcase the good in the world. One that I highly recommend is Good News Movement. https://www.instagram.com/goodnews_movement/ It will restore your faith in humanity. Well, it will at least remind you that there are many, many kind and generous people in the world. Always have been, always will be. Since we’re on the subject of social media, let’s talk about Facebook. I hate it. I’d already gotten tired of it because of the way people behave and how intrusive it could be. But now that Zuckerberg has basically said he’s fine with the rampant spread of disinformation, Russian bots, and selling our privacy, I’m really over it. Yet, here I am with a profile still on the Book o’ Faces. I belong to a book group that I love, I also love my Pantsuit Nation group, and I even keep up with things like the Country Living Fair and special events over at Antiques on 231. I started thinking about whittling down my friends list to the handful of folks that I actually enjoy and engage with regularly. I don’t want to insult anyone (assuming they’d even care if I disappear from their list), I just don’t feel like every acquaintance has to turn into a Facebook friend. If I sat next to you in a high school classroom 40 years ago and shared my notes that doesn’t mean that I’m obligated to subject myself to your pro-Trump nonsense on MY Facebook page. If we worked together 20 years ago and had some laughs, does that mean we are forever connected and you get to keep adding me to your prayer chains and Mary Kay parties? I don’t think it does. I’ve started to delete a few people at a time from my friends list and I have to admit, it feels really good - like finally tidying up that jumbled closet or kitchen junk drawer. I’ll keep reducing my circle until it makes sense. That doesn’t mean only people who agree with my beliefs, but it certainly means those who show respect to those who believe differently. If you disagree, scroll on by. There’s no need to be a jerk. My Facebook housecleaning even spawned a couple of cards. I found this woman and her pie.

Then looked for a picture of vintage matches...

and decided that I have no regrets.

She’ll be tidied up and may get some ribbon or buttons to dress things up a bit, but her message is on point.

This one too.

I’m the sort of person who gives 95 chances. But when I’m done, I’m 100% done. But enough about the unpleasant aspects of social media, let’s talk about something nice.

BEES! My gardens are full of beautiful, buzzing, bouncy bees! I recorded a little video because I was so excited over the lavender being chock full of bees - then had to sigh over how goofy I sound. Oh well, who cares? BEES!

youtube

And this may be a summer without baseball, a Moon Pie festival, and 4th of July fireworks, but boy howdy, I’m going to have some delicious tomatoes! My lone plant is groaning under the weight of all of the whoppers currently growing and I’m spotting new blooms every day.

YUM! After I stalked the bees and counted tomatoes I thought I’d get a snap of the pretty bucket of flowers on the garden gate. After I came inside and looked at the photo on my phone I realized that there’s bird poop on the gate and loads of spent blooms that I should have pinched off. C’est la vie! Just squint your eyes to make it blurry and it will be perfect.

I’m also in the process of trying to make the laundry room a more organized space. We’ve always had just one wire shelf over the washer and dryer. no matter how many times I tidy it, it always ends up looking like this.

It makes me crazy.

Don’t judge my mismatched appliances. When the dryer conked out I wanted this model - someday when the washer dies they’ll match again. I’m not a fan of the front loading washers or any appliance that requires more programming than the space shuttle to start it. I wouldn’t mind it if these came in pink though. Anywayyyyy, the mister removed that shelf for me and measured and cut a couple of boards for me to stain. I did, and once they were dry he mounted them on brackets. Now I have two shelves and I’m trying to decide how to perfectly arrange everything. In my mind I see this...

But what the heck? Most people have more than a couple of empty baskets and an antique tote bag to store.

This is lovely, but what’s the point? All of that shelving just to showcase your iron and a glass jar of Tide pods?

This is pretty, but I don’t need a lantern in my laundry room and I just see a lot of wasted storage space.

I think I’ll end up making pretty tags for my baskets and storing the necessities out of sight - light bulbs, table linens, batteries, and all of the things that drift into the laundry room and add to the clutter. HGTV won’t be stopping by to take pictures but I’ll be happier when it’s done. Pretty sure that this gal may have to go on a wall.

That way I can look at my mismatched washer and dryer and my less than photogenic storage and remember that it could be worse. We’ve got it made. Time for some lunch and then I think I’ll get back outside. Birds, bees, and blooms are good company. Take care of yourselves. Stay safe and well, and remember that YOU decide who and what you allow into your life. Surround yourself with the people who encourage and build others up, lock hands with those who seek and do good. That may mean having just a few people around your table and that’s just fine. A few meaningful relationships that feed your soul are healthier than a thousand shallow relationships that chip away at your happiness. That’s not popularity, that’s settling. Don’t do it. Now go get a treat and enjoy the rest of your day.

XOXO, Nancy

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postgamecontent · 7 years

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Ninja Gaiden Spotlight: Ninja Gaiden (Arcade) & Ninja Gaiden (NES)

Ninja Gaiden is a strange franchise for a number of reasons. Although most people are familiar with the name through the NES games or the later Xbox-born revival, Ninja Gaiden got its start in the arcades. Curiously, although Tecmo is a Japanese company, Ninja Gaiden (Arcade) was first released in North America. While the series technically began with the arcade game, however, it didn't really hit the radar of most players until the first NES game, also titled Ninja Gaiden. In this article, we'll be taking a look at both of those games.

Ninja Gaiden (Arcade)

Original Release Date: October 1988 (NA)

Original Hardware: JAMMA PCB

Ninjas were a hot-ticket item in the 1980s, and just about everyone around the world knew it. Once renowned for their ability to stay out of sight and stick to the shadows, ninjas were suddenly showing up in all kinds of wild places. One popular sub-genre of the ninja boom was the American ninja. Sometimes these would literally be American characters who somehow became ninjas, as seen in the astonishingly long-running American Ninja series of films. Other works of fiction simply placed groups of ninjas in American locations, typically as antagonists, as in Daredevil or the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But if there was one other kind of theme that North Americans were in love with during the 1980s, it was the fish-out-of-water story. Just imagine the laughs you can get from putting a stranger in a land that seems mundane to us but positively bizarre from the character's point of view. Or don't imagine and just watch Crocodile Dundee. I won't judge you.

The funny thing is, not all of these stories came out of the minds of American creators. As infatuated as Westerners were with Japanese culture in the 1980s, Japanese were equally head-over-heels with the United States. Thus, we have Ninja Gaiden, a game that somehow started a successful franchise in spite of its main redeeming trait being just how stupid it is. Initially released in North America in 1988, it's a side-scrolling beat-em-up in the style of Double Dragon. One or two players guide their ninja character through stages based on major American tourist traps, dodging traffic in New York City, jumping across the neon-lit signboards of Vegas, and kicking Jason Voorhees look-alikes into the Grand Canyon. The story goes that your ninja heroes have been hired to take down an evil, sword-wielding descendant of Nostradamus named... Bladedamus. No, I'm not kidding.

As these kinds of games go, Ninja Gaiden is not a very good one. It's stingy and quite difficult, and although you have an assortment of moves at your disposal, the only truly effective one is a leaping throw. There are some interesting gimmicks woven into the gameplay, such as the button on the top of the stick that allows you to grab onto overhead handholds and so on. You can also run up and flip off of walls, and if you happen to have the sword power-up at the time, you can launch a deadly attack by doing that. In general, there's quite a bit more jumping and platforming than you would usually see in a belt-scrolling brawler. Many of the fundamental rules of the genre weren't etched in stone by this point, so you tended to see a lot of experimental titles like this.

If Ninja Gaiden has any real merit, it can be found in the sheer amount of bizarre nods to Americana it contains. The game carelessly skirts the legal line with its parodies and homages, most notably in its inclusion of the pro wrestling tag-team Legion of Doom as recurring bosses. Every time they appear, they’re accompanied by a barely-disguised copy of Black Sabbath’s Iron Man, which was their ring entrance music at the time. The Legion of Doom were regularly wrestling in Japan at the time, so it’s not too hard to see how the inspiration struck the development team. At the same time, it caused some problems when the game was re-released on the Wii Virtual Console. The music had to be replaced to avoid legal issues. Some of the graphics were altered as well, for mostly similar reasons.

That Virtual Console port represents one of the few times the arcade version of Ninja Gaiden came to a home console. It was ported to a number of home computers in Europe under the title Shadow Warriors, and had a handheld port to the Atari Lynx. It was also included as an unlockable bonus game in Ninja Gaiden Black on the Xbox. It’s not hard to get your hands on this game if you really want to, but outside of its historical importance, I’m not sure what you would get out of it. I suppose we can thank Ninja Gaiden for introducing us to Ryu Hayabusa, but he was coming one way or another anyway.

Ninja Gaiden (NES)

Original Release Date: December 9, 1988 (JPN)

Original Hardware: Nintendo Entertainment System

The NES version of Ninja Gaiden was developed alongside the arcade version, and although it shares a name and some promotional artwork, it’s a very different game. While it seems like both games came out of the same basic idea of a Japanese ninja in America, the NES version quickly ditches the garish Americana. Only the first level and its boss encounter show any signs of the American setting, and Ryu’s journey takes him around the world by the end of it all. The arcade game was chasing after the hot side-scrolling beat-em-up genre, but on consoles the platformer genre was much more popular. There was also no real need to shake down players for quarters, so the development team could take a marginally gentler approach to the difficulty. Well, they could have, anyway.

To be fair, Ninja Gaiden does pull its punches early on. After watching a very cool opening cinema showing Ryu’s father falling in a dramatic duel, the player is tossed into the game’s first level. It’s pretty much a straight horizontal shot to the end of the level, with a few obstacles and enemies placed in the way to teach the player the basic mechanics. At first, the player isn’t required to do any climbing, and every enemy comes at Ryu slowly from the right side of the screen. About halfway through, it turns up the heat a little, with speedy enemies approaching from the rear and structures that the player is forced to climb in order to proceed. It’s extremely likely the player will take a few hits along the way, which will teach them how Ryu flies back when he takes damage. Almost every item you can encounter in the game makes an appearance in the first stage, too. This is as much of a tutorial as the game is willing to give you.

The first boss is also quite the softy. He slowly marches toward the player, stopping every so often to swing a couple of times with his machete. He’s short enough to jump over, and his weapon has a shorter reach than Ryu’s Dragon Sword. If you happen to get too close, ducking will put you underneath his swing. It’s almost impossible to lose to him unless you really haven’t come to grips with the basics of controlling Ryu. After beating the boss, you’re treated to another dramatic cinema scene, setting the pace for the game to come.

Cut-scenes like these were a rarity at the time, and although the story is completely absurd, having it depicted with such detail grants it a much bigger impact than the equally silly stories of other games of the time. This emphasis on dramatic camera angles and moody settings makes a bit more sense when you find out that Ninja Gaiden was among the first video games worked on by a young Masato Kato, who would go on to work on the scenarios of games like Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy 7, and Final Fantasy 11. A superb soundtrack by Keiji Yamagishi and Ryuichi Nitta accentuates the ever-changing atmosphere that the game builds from level to level. Like many of the best soundtracks of the era, the music sets the beat for the player’s actions throughout the game. Most of the background music has a frantic quality to it that has you on the edge of your seat the whole time.

The second act starts off similarly to the first, having the player make their way out of a prison along a largely horizontal layout. The main difference here is that there are some small vertical elements and the odd bottomless pit. It’s possible that you might be knocked to your death if you play carelessly, but quite unlikely. Coming out of the prison into the fresh air, the game starts to show its true face for the first time. The ratio of safe footing to pits begins to tilt against the player. There are quite a few small ledges patrolled by enemies that lob projectiles at the player, requiring careful timing to avoid being knocked back to where you started from, or worse, into a pit. The only act of mercy on the game’s part is in how it spreads out the power-ups and sub-weapons in this stage. You’re usually given the most helpful possible item for the situation at hand, and furnished with plenty of magic points to use them with. Thanks to that, most players should be able to make their way through this act. The boss is quite similar to that of the first stage, albeit taller and with a longer reach. This requires a better stick-and-move strategy, but if you’ve made it this far, you shouldn’t have too many problems.

An infamous enemy makes its first appearance in the third act of the game. To observers, it’s merely a bird, but to veterans of the 8-bit era, it’s a symbol of a thousand missed jumps and aggravating deaths. Its speedy, erratic movements can make it hard to take down quickly, and it’s almost always placed in positions where it can cause the most suffering. Where there is a tiny ledge surrounded by bottomless pits, there is the bird. Where there is a tricky jump, there is the bird. Where there is a seemingly safe, wide stretch of land, there are two birds. The combinations of enemies and significantly more dangerous layouts make the third act a real stepping-up point in terms of difficulty. By comparison, the boss is a bit of a relief. It jumps in a predictable pattern from one side of the screen to the other, occasionally firing a volley of bullets as it takes off. It’s a different challenge from the first two bosses, but once you pick up its pattern, it’s not too tough to take down.

In my experience, the fourth act is a make-or-break point for a lot of players. The first couple of stages aren’t too much harder than what you’ve already been through, though the ledges are smaller and patrolled by more dangerous mixes of enemies. Bats are especially annoying with their lazy parabolic movements, and it’s almost impossible in places to actually take them out permanently since their spawn point appears mid-air. You’ll also have to start dealing with speedy ninjas that drop seemingly out of nowhere. It’s the third stage of the act where business really picks up. If you haven’t learned the ins and outs of Ryu’s capabilities by this point, you’re going to get bounced around like a little pinball. Power-ups are place in trickier places, and magic points to power your weapon attacks aren’t nearly as plentiful.

The boss of this act, Kelbeross, has the most random patterns we’ve seen from a boss enemy yet. He takes the form of a pair of dogs that leap around the room firing deadly balls of energy at regular intervals. Unlike the previous three boss rooms, this one has a couple of columns placed in it. They can be used as perches for Ryu, but it seems like they’re really there to make Kelbeross’s leaps harder to predict. One of the pair falls quite quickly, but the other one will put up a fairly good fight. You not only need to predict where his leaps will take him, but also keep an eye out for his shots. A good sub-weapon can make a huge difference here, provided you have the magic points to use it. Kelbeross isn’t quite as tough as the stage that precedes him, but he is the first boss to show any real teeth.

Get past that boss, and you’re onto the fifth act. For the most part, there’s nothing here you haven’t already seen, but if you don’t hate birds by now, you will. One of the favorite tricks of the designers in this act is to throw a bird out as you’re leaping to a ladder. If you don’t react with precision, you’ll almost certainly get sucker-punched. This act also contains one of the first real moments of cruelty in Ninja Gaiden. There’s a section where you need to carefully drop and stick to the wall in order to jump to a lower platform. This is tricky enough on its own, but the game also tosses out a bird here just to mess with you. If you can get through there, the rest of the act isn’t too bad, but that is a sign of the game’s changed intent towards the player. The line is to be drawn here, and not much farther. The act culminates in an oddly anti-climactic battle against a character named Bloody Malth. He can call down lightning, and the very act of the battle taking place on a rooftop makes things much more dramatic. He’s also the first boss to get a cut-scene before the fight, giving this fight a personal touch the others lacked. He goes down easily enough if you get in close, crouch, and slash like a madman, though.

Up to this point, Ninja Gaiden is a tough game, but largely a fair one. The NES had a lot of extremely difficult games, but not many of those games were as highly-regarded as Ninja Gaiden. I firmly believe it’s because this game gives the player enough rope early on to really get into the game and its mechanics. You’re so invested by the time it gets truly vicious that you want to see it through anyway. Even with that determination, very few players see Ninja Gaiden through to its close, and the sixth act is almost certainly why. There’s a lot to break down here, but let’s start with a programming bug that the developers liked enough to keep in. Usually in this game, if you lose a life, you’ll start back at the beginning of the current section. You’ll lose a little progress, but nothing major. And so it goes in the sixth act, until you reach the final boss gauntlet. If you die there, the game sends you all the way back to where you fought Bloody Malth. It’s a long, draining road to make the first time. Every trip after that feels like it’s asking for another little piece of your soul.

The sixth act is really, really hard. Ninjas with jetpacks fly by, lobbing shuriken at all sorts of angles. Speedy little leapers scoot around, jumping erratically. Birds, bats, enemies with projectiles, leaping ninjas, and every other thing the game can muster is thrown at you in increasingly hard-to-manage combinations. The Whirlwind Slash weapon helps a lot here, but it chews through magic points far faster than you’ll earn them. Almost every second of the climb sees you assaulted from multiple directions, and bottomless pits are everywhere. It’s all very unpleasant. And it’s nothing compared to the last set of bosses waiting at the end.

Now, as we’ve established, if you die at the final boss, you’ll be kicked all the way back to the first section of the sixth act. One small bone the game tosses you is that any bosses you beat stay dead, at least until you have to continue. The first boss of three has a tough-to-read pattern, and he commandeers much of the chamber in which you fight him. Making things tougher is that he is not your actual target. If you have the right sub-weapon, things go a little faster here, but it’s still pretty tricky. If you beat him, you get the usual end-of-stage roll where your remaining magic points and life points are added to your score, leaving you with a fresh life bar and zero magic points. This is bad, because you’re immediately thrown into a fight with the big boss Jaquio. He’s easy enough if you have the fire sub-weapon and a stock of magic, but unless you die and crawl all the way back here after beating the first boss, you won’t even have a single magic point to your name.

If your timing is good, you might be able to move between his shots and get your licks in. It’s easier to take the cheap way out, though. If you time it just right, you can get Jaquio to knock you outside of the screen boundaries near the top of the screen, giving you a convenient perch from which you can attack and dodge. Short of taking the loss and coming back with a proverbial ninja magic bazooka, this is the only method by which I’ve ever been able to beat Jaquio. I guess I should just be happy I can still beat him at all. Take him down, and the end-of-stage rigmarole happens again, once again ensuring that you won’t have any magic points for the next fight.

Yes, it’s not over yet. You now have to fight the demon statue itself in its true form. This is a large, impressive-looking boss that uses the trick of having the enemy be a background layer. There are three targets on his body, and unless you foolishly collide with the statue itself, you really only need to worry about the predictable energy bursts it rains down on you. Slice up its heart, and you’ll finally get the ending you so richly deserve. Individually, none of the three final bosses are all that bad, but the gauntlet combined with the added restrictions placed on you make it really hard to persevere. The ending is awesome, at least. I don’t know what I would have done if I had fought my way through all of that only to get a simple congratulations.

Even with the nasty difficulty spikes and cruel change of rules at the end of the game, Ninja Gaiden is an amazing game. There are a number of reasons for that. The controls are tight, Ryu’s moveset provides the player with a lot of fun options, and the large amount of sub-weapons gives you an opportunity to form your own style. The presentation is outstanding, and the story at least makes an effort. The way the game eases you in so that you’re invested in overcoming the more difficult hurdles is also quite the clever trick. I imagine most people give up anyway, but the amount of nastiness the average player is likely to put up with before reaching that point is surely the mark of some sort of achievement.

Difficulty balancing is an issue the Ninja Gaiden series would always struggle with across its many forms. While the first game doesn’t quite nail it thanks to the final boss gauntlet, I think this is as close as any of its developers would get to a satisfying level of challenge until the Xbox revival. But I’ll explore that more when I talk about the other two games in the NES trilogy next time around.

Next: Ninja Gaiden 2 & Ninja Gaiden 3

Previous: Introduction

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