#I've been trying to get through to people

[gauntletqueen]

It's my third (or fourth? I can't tell) Vtuber anniversary today!

That should be a happy occasion, reason for an extra-special stream, but sadly my computer is currently rapidly breaking down. As many of you know, it's been having trouble for some time, and nothing I do to fix it has worked. At present, it won't even start, it simply cycles between various different error states.

I really love streaming, and I spend a Lot of time off-stream to make new fun additions to my streams. I've been told my streams have helped people get through their days and more, which is exactly what I set out to accomplish when I started. I'm so happy to know that I can use my creative skills to brighten people's lives. I don't want to stop doing this, and so I humbly request your help once more.

I need a new PC. I know I recently asked for help to try and fix this one but it is clearly not happening. It's really costly, of course, but anything you could spare would help. Thank you, I really appreciate you all <3

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[elryuse]

The Rise Of The Tiger

Yandere Jinsoul & Vivi X Male Reader

Tags : Criminal World, Rise to Power, Dark and Gritty, Criminal AU, Mafia/Gang, Kissing, Seduction, Threesome, FFM Threesome, Biting, Teasing, Creampie Words : 11,732 Words

This is A Wonderful Fic I've Made alongside My friend @starconstruction. I feel Like, This is My wildest Fic yet, The Universe and Story feels, Right?

The night air is heavy with tension, a suffocating weight pressing down on your chest as you walk through the desolate streets of your battered hometown. The lamplight flickers weakly, casting jagged shadows that seem to claw at the crumbling walls of the buildings around you. You���ve always been someone who couldn’t look away from suffering—a flaw, maybe, but one you’ve learned to live with. Ever since the Five Monkeys tore through this town like a plague, your life has been defined by a gnawing sense of duty. If you don’t help, who will?

The screams reach you first. You freeze for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest. It’s coming from the small house at the end of the street—your friend’s home. The realization sends a surge of adrenaline coursing through you, and before you can think, your legs are moving. The closer you get, the clearer the scene becomes: a group of sneering figures looms over your friend’s family, their jeers cutting through the night like blades. The Five Monkeys. Again.

You know better than to rush into this. There are too many of them, and you’re painfully aware of the odds. But as your friend’s father is shoved to the ground, as the gang’s laughter echoes louder, something snaps inside you. You don’t care about the odds anymore.

“Hey!” your voice cuts through the chaos, drawing their attention. Their faces turn to you, twisted in mockery and disdain. You don’t wait for them to respond. You charge.

The first punch lands hard, your knuckles slamming against the jaw of the nearest thug. He stumbles back, clutching his face, and for a fleeting moment, you think you might have a chance. But then the others descend on you like a pack of wolves. Fists and boots rain down, and you can barely breathe through the pain. You hear their laughter, cruel and taunting, as they mock your futile bravery.

“Think you’re some kind of hero?” one of them sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re just another dead man walking.”

You fight back with everything you have, ignoring the searing pain in your ribs, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. You manage to land a few hits, enough to make them stagger. For a moment, you think you’ve turned the tide. But then he steps forward—one of their leaders, a hulking figure with a cruel smile and cold eyes. He pulls a gun from his waistband, leveling it at you with an almost lazy confidence.

“Stay down, hero,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “Or I’ll make sure you stay down for good.”

You don’t stay down. You lunge at him, and the world explodes in pain. The gunshot is deafening, and your arm feels like it’s been set on fire. You stagger back, clutching your elbow, blood seeping through your fingers. The gang swarms you again, pinning you to the ground. You’re too weak to fight back now, too dazed to even try.

But then something changes. The jeers and laughter of the gang are drowned out by another sound—a roar of defiance from the townsfolk. You hear the shouts, the scuffle of feet, and then the weight pinning you down is gone. Through the haze of pain, you see them: the people of your town, finally standing up, finally fighting back. The Five Monkeys��� sneers turn to shouts of alarm as they’re overwhelmed by sheer numbers. It’s chaos, but for the first time in what feels like forever, it’s chaos in your favor.

Someone pulls you to your feet, their hands firm but gentle. You’re too disoriented to see who it is, but their voice is soft, almost soothing. “You did good,” they say, and for a moment, you feel a flicker of something like hope.

But it’s short-lived. As the gang is driven away, you catch a glimpse of a figure watching from the shadows. Their eyes are fixed on you, unblinking, their expression unreadable. There’s something about the way they look at you that makes your skin crawl, a sense of unease that you can’t shake. Then they’re gone, disappearing into the night like a ghost.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just another scar to add to the collection. But deep down, you know better. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The morning after feels surreal. The streets are quieter now, almost unnaturally so, as if the chaos of the night before has been scrubbed away. But the scars are still there—on the faces of the people, on the broken doors and shattered windows. You step outside, your arm bound in a makeshift sling after the gunshot wound. A few of the elders greet you, their faces lined with gratitude and exhaustion.

“We owe you our lives,” one of them says, clasping your uninjured hand tightly. “For years, we’ve lived in fear, watching them tear our town apart. But last night…last night, you gave us hope.”

Another elder steps forward, carrying a small wooden box. Inside are bandages, salves, and a few meager supplies. “Let us tend to your wound properly,” she says. “You’ve done more for us than we could ever repay, but we’ll start with this.”

You sit quietly as they clean and rebind your arm, their hands steady despite their age. The pain is sharp, but you grit your teeth and bear it. It’s nothing compared to what you endured last night.

“You’re a brave young man,” the elder says as she finishes tying the bandage. “But bravery alone won’t win this fight. The Five Monkeys won’t take this lying down. They’ll come back, and they’ll come back stronger.”

The words weigh heavily on you. You’ve always known this fight would be a long one, but hearing it spoken aloud makes it feel more real. Another elder steps forward, his expression grim.

“We’re at war now,” he says. “Your stand last night was the first battle, but it won’t be the last. We’ll need reinforcements, weapons, and a plan. The Five Monkeys have ruled over us for too long, but now…now we fight back.”

The gathered townsfolk murmur in agreement. You can see the determination in their eyes, the resolve that has been born from years of oppression. They’ve had enough, and so have you.

“Rest for now,” the elder continues. “We’ll send messengers to the neighboring villages. There are others who’ve suffered under the Five Monkeys. If we stand together, we might have a chance.”

You nod, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on your shoulders. The fight isn’t over, but for the first time, it feels like you’re not fighting alone.

You wake to the sound of commotion outside your window, the murmur of voices blending with the rhythmic clang of metal. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you pull yourself up, wincing as the movement tugs at your injured arm. The sight outside is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

A line of people stretches through the town square, men and women alike arming themselves with whatever weapons they can find. Some carry swords that look like they’ve been pulled from dusty attics, their edges dulled by time. Others fashion crude spears from sharpened sticks, while a few hold bows strung with fraying strings. A group near the edge of the square tests blowdarts, their expressions grim and focused. The atmosphere crackles with energy—a mixture of fear and determination.

The elder who tended to your wounds the day before catches sight of you and strides over, her face set in a mask of resolve. Without a word, she gestures for you to follow her. You trail behind, your steps unsteady but purposeful, until you reach the center of the square. The gathered crowd falls silent as the elder raises her hand.

“Before the Five Monkeys can regroup,” she begins, her voice carrying over the assembly, “we will strike.

The Five Monkeys sat in their dimly lit hideout, the air thick with the acrid smell of smoke and spilled liquor. Their laughter echoed off the cracked walls, a cacophony of cruelty and arrogance. Around a battered wooden table, their leaders leaned in close, speaking in hushed tones punctuated by bursts of harsh cackling.

“This town thought they could get one over on us,” snarled Vick, a wiry man with a scar cutting across his cheek. He slammed a dagger into the table for emphasis. “We’ll show them what happens when you bite the hand that rules you.”

“Let’s make it fun,” chimed in Danny, his grin revealing yellowed teeth. “Break their bones one by one, make their kids watch. Let them beg before we burn the place to the ground.”

The others howled in agreement, banging their fists on the table. A woman with a shaved head and a snake tattoo coiled around her neck leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a sinister smirk. “They think they’ve won,” she drawled. “But tomorrow, we’ll remind them who owns this dump.”

As the gang continued to plot their gruesome revenge, they were blissfully unaware of the figures crouched in the darkness just beyond their hideout. The townsfolk had followed the gang back to their lair, moving silently through the shadows, their makeshift weapons clutched tightly in their hands.

You stood among them, your injured arm bound but your resolve unshaken. From your vantage point, you could see the flickering light of the Five Monkeys’ hideout and hear every vile word of their conversation. Your jaw clenched as their cruel laughter grated against your ears, but you kept your breathing steady. This wasn’t the time to lose focus.

Beside you, one of the younger townsmen shifted, his grip on a rusty blade tightening. He started to rise, his face twisted with anger, but you pressed a firm hand against his shoulder, stopping him.

“Not yet,” you whispered, your voice a low growl. “They’re drunk and distracted now, but we’ll wait until they’re asleep. Then we strike. No one escapes.”

The man hesitated, then nodded, his anger giving way to grim understanding. Around you, the others watched in tense silence, their eyes glinting with the same fire that burned in your chest. You had no intention of showing mercy to the people who had torn your town apart. But this attack would be clean, efficient—a swift vengeance delivered under the cover of night.

Hours passed, the forest around the hideout alive with the subtle rustle of the townsfolk shifting in anticipation. Inside, the Five Monkeys’ laughter began to fade, replaced by drunken murmurs and the occasional clatter of a falling bottle. One by one, the lights in the hideout winked out.

This was your moment.

Rising from your crouch, you signaled to the others, your eyes hard as steel. The crowd moved as one, their steps muffled against the soft earth. You could feel the collective fury radiating off them, a silent promise that no one in that hideout would leave it alive.

As you approached the entrance, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what was to come. This wasn’t just a fight. It was justice—a reckoning for years of torment, a message to anyone who dared to follow in the Five Monkeys’ footsteps.

With a silent nod, you gave the signal to begin.

The Five Monkeys sat in their hideout, the dim light of their lanterns casting eerie shadows on the cracked walls. Their laughter was coarse and ugly, punctuated by the clinking of bottles and the metallic clang of knives being sharpened. Around a worn-out table, they leaned in close, their faces twisted with smug amusement as they hatched their cruel plans.

“Let’s see how brave they are when we drag their elders through the streets,” sneered Vick, his fingers idly spinning a blade on the tabletop. “Bet they’ll be begging us to stop.”

“Burn their fields,” Danny chimed in, his voice gleeful. “Leave ‘em starving. That’ll teach them not to mess with us.”

“Starving?” A woman with a snake tattoo around her neck leaned back with a sneer. “I say we torch the whole damn place. Leave nothing but ash.”

The gang erupted into laughter, their voices a chorus of malice. None of them noticed the silent figures crouched in the dark outside their hideout, hidden in the tall grass and trees. The townsfolk had followed them, moving with purpose, their weapons ready. Among them, you knelt at the forefront, your eyes locked on the hideout with a burning intensity.

One of the younger men beside you, gripping a crude blade, started to shift forward, his anger boiling over. You grabbed his arm firmly, shaking your head. “Not yet,” you hissed. “Let them drink, let them boast. When they sleep, we’ll move.”

The man hesitated, then nodded, his breathing shallow. Around you, the rest of the group waited, their determination palpable. The Five Monkeys, oblivious to the danger creeping toward them, continued their debauchery late into the night.

The hours dragged on, but you held your position, waiting for the right moment. The lantern light from the hideout began to dim as the gang members stumbled to their makeshift beds, their boasts giving way to the heavy sounds of drunken snores.

The night air was cool against your skin, carrying the faint rustle of leaves. You turned to the gathered townsfolk, meeting their eyes one by one. They looked to you for guidance, their trust unwavering. With a single nod, you gave the signal.

The group moved as one, silent and deadly, advancing on the hideout with the precision of a predator stalking its prey. The first breach was quick—a few men slipping inside to disable the sentries. You followed close behind, your heart pounding in your chest but your resolve unshaken.

The attack began in earnest. Blades flashed in the dim light, muffled cries escaping from the sleeping forms of the gang. It was chaos, but it was controlled—a calculated, brutal vengeance. The Five Monkeys awoke to the sound of their own screams, their confusion quickly replaced by terror as the townsfolk descended upon them.

One by one, they fell. Blood painted the walls, the floor, even the ceiling, as crude weapons met flesh. The gang's groans of pain and cries for mercy were drowned out by the determination of the attackers. You moved among them like a shadow, your own weapon finding its mark over and over.

This was no mere battle—it was an execution. The Five Monkeys, so confident in their power, were utterly overwhelmed. Their hideout became their tomb.

As the last of the gang fell, you stood in the center of the carnage, your chest heaving, your weapon slick with blood. Around you, the townsfolk began to gather, their faces pale but victorious. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the distant rustle of the wind through the trees.

Then, the elder stepped forward, her expression grim but satisfied. “It’s done,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of years of pain and suffering. “They’ll never hurt anyone again.”

You nodded, wiping the blood from your blade. But even as the sense of victory began to settle over the group, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The Five Monkeys were finished, but the fight for your town was far from over.

The walk back to the town felt surreal, the cool night air brushing against your bloodstained clothes. Around you, the townsfolk marched in silence, their faces marked by both relief and grim satisfaction. It was done. The Five Monkeys were no more.

When the lights of the town hall came into view, the silence broke. Cheers erupted, a thunderous wave of gratitude and joy sweeping through the gathered crowd. People rushed forward, clapping your shoulder, shaking your hand, their faces glowing with admiration. They called your name over and over, their voices full of reverence.

“No one dead!” someone shouted from the crowd. “We didn’t lose a single soul!”

The realization struck you then, a warm wave of relief washing over the cold detachment you had carried through the fight. Not a single townsperson had died tonight, and it felt like a miracle—a testament to their courage and the unity that had driven them to take back their lives.

At the steps of the town hall, the elder who had tended to your wounds stood waiting. Her eyes, lined with the wisdom of many years, were wet with unshed tears. As you approached, she took your hands in hers, her grip firm and steady despite her trembling frame.

“You have done what none of us dared to do,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve not only defended this town—you’ve given us back our hope, our strength. Tonight, Joseol is reborn.”

She pulled you into an embrace, her frail arms holding you tightly. The crowd roared their approval, their cheers rising into the night sky. When she finally let you go, she stepped to the top of the steps, raising her hands to quiet the celebration.

Her voice carried through the crowd, strong and resolute. “For years, we have lived in fear, cowering before those who sought to tear us apart. But no longer. Tonight, we proved that the strength of our town does not lie in its walls or its buildings. It lies in us—in our unity, our courage, and our refusal to bow to oppression.”

The crowd murmured in agreement, their faces alight with determination. The elder’s gaze swept over them, her voice rising. “Joseol is no longer a town for the weak. We are strong together. And at the heart of that strength stands the one who showed us the way.”

She turned to you, a proud smile spreading across her weathered face. “From this day forward, let it be known: we are guided by the Tiger of the North!”

The cheers that erupted shook the very ground beneath your feet. People chanted your name, their voices blending into a chorus of unbridled gratitude and admiration. They surged forward, surrounding you with embraces, handshakes, and words of thanks. You stood at the center of it all, a strange mixture of pride and humility swelling in your chest.

You had never sought recognition, never imagined yourself as a leader. But as the people of Joseol looked to you with unwavering faith, you realized that this was your place now. You were their symbol of hope, their shield against the darkness.

The elder raised her hands again, her voice cutting through the noise. “Tonight, we celebrate. But tomorrow, we prepare. Joseol has reclaimed its strength, but the world beyond our borders is still harsh and unforgiving. We must be ready for whatever comes next.”

The crowd nodded, their cheers giving way to murmurs of agreement. You met the elder’s eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. The fight wasn’t over—not yet. But for tonight, at least, you allowed yourself to feel the weight of their gratitude and the warmth of their cheers.

For tonight, you were the Tiger of the North.

The town of Joseol buzzed with life once more, the rubble of the past replaced by new walls, fortified gates, and an air of resilience that hung thick in the streets. Under your leadership, the townsfolk had worked tirelessly to rebuild not just their homes but also their spirits. Yet, even as the sun shone brightly over the repaired town square, you couldn't shake the growing unease in your chest.

Trouble was brewing beyond Joseol’s borders. The fall of the Five Monkeys hadn’t just restored peace to your town—it had made you infamous. The story of the "Tiger of the North" had spread far and wide, catching the attention of figures far more dangerous than you had ever faced. Among them were two formidable criminal organizations, each as deadly as the other, each drawn to Joseol for their own reasons.

Lavien Blu: The Shadow of Death

The Laviens were a ghost story made real. Whispered tales of their poison-coated weapons and unseen assassins had reached every corner of the region. Their leader, Lady Jinsoul, was a woman cloaked in mystery, her name synonymous with ruthlessness and brilliance. She ruled from the shadows, her influence stretching like venom through the veins of every city she touched.

Jinsoul’s poison wasn't just in her weapons—it was in her words, her strategies, her ability to manipulate even her enemies into serving her ends. The Laviens were her devoted flock, their loyalty unshakable, their training brutal. They lived and died by her word, and in return, she gave them power beyond measure.

Sitting in her private chamber atop a grand but concealed fortress, Jinsoul swirled a glass of dark wine, her lips curling into a sly smile as a messenger recounted the tale of the Tiger of the North.

“Interesting,” she purred, her voice smooth as silk yet laced with danger. “A hero who rises from nothing to topple a gang… A man beloved by his people, brave enough to face death itself. Such a creature must be either exceedingly foolish or exceedingly clever.”

One of her lieutenants, a wiry man with eyes like a hawk, stepped forward. “Shall we investigate, Lady Jinsoul?”

“Oh, we will do more than investigate,” she replied, setting the glass down with deliberate care. “Joseol is a candle in the dark, and I intend to see how brightly it burns. The Tiger will learn that even the fiercest predator is not immune to poison.”

Gangnam Dragon: The Unyielding Force

In stark contrast to the shadowy finesse of Lavien Blu, the Gangnam Dragons were a storm—loud, violent, and impossible to ignore. They operated openly, their numbers bolstered by sheer strength and their brutal reputation. Their leader, Vivi, the self-proclaimed Queen of Gangnam, was as imposing as her organization. Known for her physical prowess and unrelenting will, Vivi had built an empire by recruiting the strongest fighters, pitting them against one another to ensure only the best remained.

She ruled not with fear but with an unbreakable code of loyalty and respect. Her followers adored her, viewing her not as a tyrant but as a warrior queen who led them from the frontlines.

In the heart of Gangnam, within a lavish yet functional compound adorned with trophies of her countless victories, Vivi stood before a map. Her piercing eyes scanned the lines and symbols marking territories, her expression thoughtful. Around her, a group of men and women—each more physically imposing than the last—waited for her word.

“The Tiger of the North,” Vivi mused, her voice low and commanding. “A man who’s rallied an entire town and brought down the Five Monkeys. Strength like that deserves to be tested.”

One of her captains, a towering brute with a scar running down his face, grunted in agreement. “Shall we pay him a visit, Queen Vivi?”

She smiled, a rare expression that combined warmth and menace. “Not yet. A tiger’s worth is measured not in words but in battle. Let him grow stronger, let him think himself untouchable. Then, we’ll see if he’s worthy of the title.”

Back in Joseol, the first whispers of these two organizations reached you like the first drops of rain before a storm. Travelers passing through told tales of poison-wielding assassins and brute-force warriors taking an interest in the Tiger of the North. The elders noticed your growing tension and pulled you aside for a council meeting.

“We cannot fight them,” one elder said, his voice heavy with worry. “Not the Laviens, not the Dragons. They’re too powerful.”

Another elder shook her head. “We’ve underestimated our enemies before, and it cost us dearly. We must prepare.”

You listened in silence, your jaw tight. These weren’t ordinary foes—they were forces of nature, each with its own brand of terror. But you had faced impossible odds before, and you weren’t about to cower now.

That night, as you stood on the town walls, gazing into the dark expanse beyond, you couldn’t shake the feeling that eyes were watching you, waiting for the right moment to strike. The breeze carried with it a sense of foreboding, a chill that cut deeper than any wound.

The scene shifts to a shadowy figure lurking at the edge of the forest, a Lavien scout observing Joseol through a small spyglass. Her hand rested on a dagger coated in a shimmering black liquid, her lips curling into a smirk. “So this is the Tiger’s den,” she whispered before retreating into the night.

Elsewhere, a group of Gangnam warriors sat around a roaring fire, their laughter echoing into the wilderness. One of them slammed his fist on the ground, a wicked grin on his face. “Let’s see if this Tiger can roar louder than the Dragons.”

Far away, two queens plotted their moves, each with their own vision of what the Tiger of the North would become. In the days to come, Joseol would not just face danger—it would face a reckoning.

The dimly lit alley buzzed with tension as two figures stood at opposite ends, their presence suffocating, their reputations enough to make the bravest souls tremble. The sharp click of heels echoed as Vivi, the Queen of Gangnam, strode forward with casual elegance, her fitted suit a stark contrast against the grimy backdrop of the city outskirts. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a cigarette, and lit it with practiced ease. The flame briefly illuminated her sharp features and piercing eyes before she exhaled a cloud of smoke, her gaze fixed on the shadowed figure nearby.

In the corner of the alley, Lady Jinsoul leaned against the wall with feline grace, her expression unreadable. Her dark, flowing cloak blended seamlessly with the shadows, but her piercing gaze shone like daggers in the dim light. She didn’t move as Vivi made herself comfortable, the faint glow of the cigarette tip casting fleeting light on the tension between them.

“You’re here for him too, aren’t you?” Jinsoul’s voice was soft, almost mocking, as she finally broke the silence. She crossed one leg over the other, her posture relaxed yet calculated. The cunning glint in her eyes betrayed her calm demeanor.

Vivi let out a low chuckle, taking another drag from her cigarette before blowing the smoke upward in a slow, deliberate stream. “He’s interesting, isn’t he? Tiger of the North…” she said, her words laced with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “It’s not often someone manages to grab my attention, but this one… he’s something else.”

Jinsoul’s lips curved into a faint smile, though there was no warmth in it. “Interesting, indeed. But let’s not pretend, Gangnam. I know why you’re really here.” She tilted her head slightly, her sharp gaze locking onto Vivi. “I suggest you back off. He’s mine.”

The Queen of Gangnam raised an eyebrow, her amusement growing. “Yours?” she echoed, the word rolling off her tongue like a challenge. “Possessive, aren’t we? I didn’t take you for someone who claimed things so easily, Jinsoul.”

Jinsoul straightened, her movements fluid and deliberate as she stepped into the dim light. “I don’t claim anything that isn’t worth my time,” she replied coolly. “But this Tiger… he intrigues me. His strength, his resolve. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t crumble under pressure. And that makes him valuable.”

Vivi smirked, tapping the ash from her cigarette onto the ground. “Valuable, sure. But is he strong enough to survive what’s coming?” Her voice carried a hint of a challenge, as though daring Jinsoul to prove her claim. “I’ve seen plenty of men who think they’re untouchable. Most of them are six feet under now.”

“And yet, you’re here,” Jinsoul countered, her voice dripping with amusement. “Does that mean you think he’s more than just a man?”

For a moment, Vivi was silent, her expression unreadable. Then she flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath her heel with a deliberate motion. “I think he’s worth seeing for myself,” she said finally, her tone cool and detached. “But don’t mistake my curiosity for submission, Jinsoul. You may think he’s yours, but if he’s truly strong, he’ll choose his own path. And if he’s not…” She shrugged, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. “Well, you won’t have to worry about me getting in your way.”

Jinsoul’s eyes narrowed, her smile fading into a thin line. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Gangnam,” she said softly, her voice carrying a subtle edge. “One misstep, and you’ll regret crossing me.”

“Dangerous is what I do best,” Vivi replied, turning on her heel. She waved a hand dismissively as she walked away, her confidence radiating with every step. “Good luck, Jinsoul. May the best woman win.”

Jinsoul watched her go, her mind already calculating. She knew this wasn’t the last she’d see of the Queen of Gangnam, and she knew Vivi wouldn’t back down easily. But Jinsoul wasn’t one to be outmaneuvered. If Vivi wanted to play this game, she’d find out just how deadly the Lady of Lavien Blu could be.

As the shadows swallowed her once more, Jinsoul’s smile returned, colder and sharper than before. “The Tiger of the North,” she murmured to herself. “Let’s see if you can handle the wolves at your door.”

As Jinsoul approached the outskirts of Joseol, a flicker of unease crept into her usually calculated mind. She had expected to see a broken town, a crumbling relic of desperation barely held together by its emboldened but naive people. Instead, what greeted her was something entirely different.

Massive stone walls towered high into the sky, encircling the town like an impenetrable fortress. Watchtowers jutted out at intervals along the walls, each manned by vigilant guards armed with crossbows and cannons. Their eyes swept over the horizon with precision, their stances exuding discipline that hinted at rigorous training.

Jinsoul halted in her tracks, her hand instinctively gripping the hilt of her dagger as her eyes scanned the scene. This… isn’t right, she thought, her sharp mind already piecing together the implications of what she saw. The town wasn’t just fortified; it was thriving. The streets inside the gates buzzed with activity. Townsfolk moved with purpose, their heads held high. Soldiers patrolled in organized formations, their armor polished to a sheen.

Her lips parted slightly in disbelief as she spotted artillery lined strategically along the inner walls—catapults, ballistae, and even strange, smoke-belching machines that appeared to be experimental siege engines. How? she wondered. How could they have grown this strong so quickly?

And then her thoughts shifted to him. The Tiger of the North. His image burned in her mind—a man whose strength had already defied her expectations. And now, seeing what he had built, her obsession deepened.

Her heart raced, not with fear, but with an intoxicating mixture of intrigue and desire. She wanted him. Not just as an ally, but as hers, entirely and without question. He was no longer a mere symbol of rebellion or strength. He was power personified, and she would stop at nothing to have him by her side.

“This changes everything,” Jinsoul murmured to herself, her tone laced with both awe and determination. Her fingers relaxed on her dagger as a sly smile curved her lips. “I was right to come here. But now… now, I’ll make him mine, no matter what it takes.”

Vivi leaned against the wooden post of a quiet marketplace stall, her sharp eyes sweeping over the bustling streets of Joseol. At first, she’d blended into the crowd with ease, her tailored coat and confident stride allowing her to pass as a simple traveler. She had expected to find a town clinging to life, its people still bearing the scars of years under the Five Monkeys’ rule.

But what she found instead left her stunned.

The town was alive. Not just alive—thriving. Everywhere she looked, there were signs of prosperity and strength. Merchants called out their wares in lively voices, their stalls stocked with goods that suggested flourishing trade routes. Families walked the streets with smiles on their faces, children running freely without fear. It was as if the torment that had once plagued this place had been wiped away entirely.

But it wasn’t just the life of the town that caught Vivi’s attention—it was the sheer military presence.

Her eyes narrowed as she observed patrols of guards marching with precision, their movements sharp and practiced. They were clad in armor that looked custom-forged, their weapons polished and well-maintained. Massive artillery installations lined the inner perimeter, positioned with a strategist’s eye for defense.

As she continued her quiet reconnaissance, her jaw clenched slightly. This wasn’t the Joseol I expected, she thought. This isn’t some small, vulnerable town. This is a fortress. A stronghold.

Vivi made her way toward an open training yard near the town square, careful to keep to the shadows. What she saw there only deepened her shock. Rows of soldiers sparred with deadly focus, their movements honed to perfection. A commander barked orders from the sidelines, and the soldiers responded with a synchronization that reminded Vivi of her own Gangnam recruits—except these were more disciplined, more cohesive.

She couldn’t help but let out a low whistle under her breath. “Well, well,” she murmured to herself, her voice tinged with admiration. “The Tiger of the North didn’t just survive—he built an empire.”

Vivi leaned back against the cool stone wall of the alley, her mind racing. The man she had thought might be an impulsive rebel was proving to be something far more formidable. This wasn’t the work of a desperate town clinging to scraps of hope. This was the work of a visionary leader.

Her lips curled into a sly smile, though there was no denying the flicker of unease beneath her confidence. “Looks like I underestimated you, Tiger,” she mused quietly. “But let’s see if you’re as good at holding onto power as you are at building it.”

For now, Vivi decided to keep her presence quiet, observing and gathering as much information as possible. She had come to Joseol to test its so-called leader, to see if he was worth her attention. And now, more than ever, she was determined to see the man behind the name—the Tiger of the North.

Jinsoul’s fingers trembled as she pressed a cloth soaked in medicinal herbs against the gash on her arm. The pain was sharp, a constant reminder of her failure. She leaned back against the cold wall of the ruined tavern she’d taken refuge in, her breath uneven and shallow. Her army, her proud Lavien Blu, had been decimated.

The attack had started with confidence. Jinsoul had marched her people toward Joseol, armed with her deadliest poisons and the cunning strategies that had never failed her before. But she hadn’t counted on Joseol being prepared—meticulously so. They had studied her poisons, created countermeasures that neutralized her deadliest creations before they could even take effect. Her soldiers were struck down by Joseol’s precision, and her lines collapsed before she could even implement her fallback plan.

She had retreated, her heart heavy with a mix of fury and bitter admiration. He planned for me, she thought. He knew exactly how to dismantle me.

But retreat wasn’t the end. Jinsoul clenched her jaw, her gaze burning with determination. She had never let defeat stop her before, and she wouldn’t let it stop her now. She had to have him—the Tiger of the North. If anything, this defeat only made her desire for him grow stronger. I’ll come back, she vowed. And next time, I won’t lose.

Vivi’s hands gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white with pressure. Around her, what was left of her once-mighty Gangnam Dragon army lay in disarray. Soldiers groaned as medics worked to patch their wounds, while others simply sat in stunned silence, the defeat etched into their faces.

Vivi herself hadn’t escaped unscathed. A cut ran along her cheek, the sting of it matched only by the burning rage in her chest. She had expected to march into Joseol and crush them with sheer brute force, as she had done with countless other towns before. But Joseol had been ready.

Their advanced weaponry had torn through her soldiers’ armor with horrifying precision. The walls of the fortress were impenetrable, and their artillery rained hell on her forces before they could even reach the gates. It had been a slaughter, and she had been powerless to stop it.

She exhaled sharply, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “That damn Tiger,” she hissed under her breath. He outplayed me. He outmaneuvered me. She slammed her fist against the table, the sound echoing in the room. But I’m not done yet. No one embarrasses me like this and gets away with it.

The moon hung low in the sky, its light casting a pale glow over the ruined outskirts where Jinsoul had taken refuge. She leaned against the wall of the alley, her thoughts consumed by strategies for revenge, when the sound of heavy boots against stone broke her concentration.

Vivi stepped into view, her coat still stained with the blood and dirt of battle. She walked with purpose, though there was a slight limp in her stride. Her eyes immediately locked onto Jinsoul’s, narrowing in recognition.

Jinsoul smirked, her lips curling as she let out a low chuckle. “Well, well. Look who it is,” she said, her voice laced with mockery. “He beat you good, huh?”

Vivi glared at her, her expression darkening. “Shut up,” she snapped. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of her lighter. Taking a long drag, she exhaled the smoke slowly before adding, “He got you too, didn’t he?”

The smirk fell from Jinsoul’s face, and her chuckle died in her throat. She shifted her weight against the wall, crossing her arms. “Yeah, well… maybe. But at least I didn’t lose as badly as you did.”

Vivi turned toward her fully, her cigarette hanging loosely between her fingers. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back. “You’re licking your wounds just like me.”

For a moment, the alley was silent, the tension between them palpable. And then, unexpectedly, Jinsoul laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. “Guess we’re both pathetic right now,” she admitted, her tone begrudging.

Vivi’s lips quirked upward in the faintest hint of a smirk. “Guess so.”

Jinsoul tilted her head, studying Vivi with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “So, what’s your plan, Dragon Queen? Going to run back to Gangnam and cry about it?”

Vivi flicked the ash from her cigarette, her gaze steady. “No. I’m going to rebuild. I’m going to get stronger. And then I’m going to take that fortress and that damn Tiger for myself.”

Jinsoul raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of respect flickering in her eyes. “You’re not the only one with that idea,” she said.

Vivi took another drag of her cigarette, exhaling slowly. “Then I guess it’s a race,” she said. Her tone was calm, but there was an undercurrent of steel in her voice.

Jinsoul pushed off the wall, stepping closer until she was only a few feet away from Vivi. “Fine by me,” she said, her smile returning. “But just so you know—he’s mine.”

Vivi’s smirk widened, her eyes glinting with challenge. “We’ll see about that.”

The two women stood there for a moment longer, their rivalry simmering in the night air. Then, without another word, they turned and walked away, each heading back to their respective territories. Both were battered, both were furious, and both were more determined than ever to claim the Tiger of the North for themselves.

The moonlight flickered through the trees as Jinsoul and Vivi crept through the shadowed streets of Joseol. Their footsteps were silent, their movements fluid, a testament to the years of training they’d both endured. As enemies, they had been fierce; as allies, they were now a force to be reckoned with. Their plan had been set into motion, and the thrill of what lay ahead burned in their veins.

Jinsoul glanced at Vivi, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and something more dangerous—a hunger for power that mirrored the one Vivi herself felt. "Do you really think we can pull this off?" Jinsoul whispered, her voice barely audible, blending into the night.

Vivi, who had been walking slightly ahead, turned to meet her gaze. Her face, still marked with the remnants of battle, was set in determination. "We’ve already passed the first test. We can’t afford to doubt now."

They had spent the past few days slowly weaving their way into the town's fabric, playing their parts perfectly. Jinsoul’s poisoned tongue had worked wonders on the local tavern owners and guards, offering them subtle deals, while Vivi’s quiet presence had been the perfect cover. They were like ghosts, blending in, gathering information, and waiting for the right moment.

And now, that moment had arrived.

Their target—the Tiger of the North’s den—lay ahead. It was a sprawling fortress of stone, surrounded by high walls and thick guard patrols. But no defense was too formidable for two of the most cunning women in the land.

The path to the Tiger’s den had been carefully scouted, every guard position noted, every weak point observed. The two had worked like clockwork, passing through the outer layers of security, unseen and unnoticed. It was as if the entire town was unaware of the storm that had been quietly building inside their walls.

And now, the Tiger’s sanctuary was within reach.

Jinsoul's lips curled into a sly smile as they approached the inner courtyard. "There it is," she murmured, her fingers twitching at her side, itching for the moment of confrontation. "His lair. His weakness."

Vivi nodded, her expression unreadable. "We just need to slip inside and wait. Once he’s vulnerable, we strike."

They had been plotting this for days, but now that the moment had come, the weight of what they were about to do began to settle on their shoulders. But the urge to finally have what they desired—the Tiger—was overwhelming.

They entered the den, carefully stepping into the shadows. The room was lavish, yet simple, a space that spoke of power, but also of someone who knew how to live with it comfortably. It was dimly lit, with only the faintest glow from the hearth casting shadows across the stone floor.

Jinsoul and Vivi moved like whispers, barely making a sound as they slipped closer to the Tiger’s bed. He was lying there, his breathing slow and steady. The Tiger of the North—his figure was imposing even in rest, muscles taut beneath the sheets, his broad chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Jinsoul paused, her fingers lingering just above her dagger’s hilt. Her eyes flickered toward Vivi, who was already taking a slow, deliberate step closer to the bed. The tension between them was palpable, each woman driven by their own desire—Jinsoul’s to claim him, and Vivi’s to see if he could truly be the man she’d underestimated.

For a moment, neither moved. The plan had always been to get close first, to wait for the opportune moment to strike, or perhaps to turn the tables and make the Tiger a willing ally.

But as they stood there, the air thick with unspoken thoughts, something else began to take hold.

Vivi's hand, which had been steady just moments before, faltered slightly as she gazed at the Tiger. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, something she hadn’t expected to feel. She glanced at Jinsoul, who seemed just as poised as ever.

"Do we kill him now?" Vivi whispered, her voice low but carrying a weight of conflict.

Jinsoul's eyes flickered with amusement. "Not yet. We’ve come too far to simply end it here. Let's see what he does. Let’s play the game, together. We can control this. We’ll make him think he has a choice."

Vivi hesitated, but the fire of revenge quickly reignited in her chest. "Alright. We do it your way." The words came out with a controlled coldness, but beneath it, she was already calculating her next move.

They moved closer, the proximity to the Tiger both thrilling and terrifying. In the quiet of the room, the faint sound of his breathing was the only noise as the two women, united in their purpose, stood on the precipice of the ultimate test. Would the Tiger of the North be their downfall, or would he become their most valuable weapon?

As Jinsoul gently traced a finger across the edge of the bed, she leaned in closer to Vivi, her voice soft but insistent. "We’ve come this far, Dragon Queen. Together, we’ll decide what happens next."

Vivi’s lips twitched into a smile, the challenge still clear in her eyes. "Together, huh? We’ll see who gets to claim him first."

You wake with a start, your senses immediately on high alert, a strange tension hanging in the air. The warmth of the hearth is the only comfort in the otherwise dim room. But something’s off.

As your eyes slowly adjust to the shadows, you spot them. Two women, standing at the foot of your bed, their eyes locked onto you.

The first woman is striking—a dark-haired beauty whose gaze is as sharp as a blade. You can feel the weight of her stare, the hunger in her eyes, like she’s sizing you up, trying to decide if you're worth the trouble. You know her name—Jinsoul. The one who’s known for her poisons, her cunning. The one who’s never met a plan she couldn’t twist to her advantage.

The second woman, Vivi, stands beside her, just as dangerous but in a different way. There’s something wild in her eyes, something that challenges you without a word. You’ve heard of her—Dragon Queen. The name alone speaks of her power, her ruthlessness. She’s no stranger to bloodshed.

Both women are still, their presence suffocating, as if they’re waiting for you to make the first move. They stand there, with desire and danger practically radiating off them. Their gaze holds not just lust, but something far more calculated.

The question burns in your mind: How did they get in? How did they get past your guards, past every layer of security you’ve built?

Your muscles tense, but you don’t move. You’re no stranger to danger, and this moment doesn’t intimidate you—it intrigues you. The game has just begun, and you're already calculating your next move.

“You’re awake.” The voice was low, velvety, and laced with a dangerous sweetness that sent a shiver down your spine. You blinked, the haze of sleep clinging to you like a heavy blanket, but your instincts were already screaming. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Your eyes focused on the figure leaning against the footboard of the bed, her silhouette sharp against the dim glow of the hearth. Jinsoul. Her lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. Beside her, Vivi stood, her arms crossed, her gaze unwavering. The Dragon Queen’s presence was unmistakable—a quiet storm waiting to unleash.

“How—?” you started, but Jinsoul interrupted with a soft, mocking laugh.

“How did we get in? Oh, Tiger of the North, you really should invest in better guards.” She stepped closer, her movements deliberate, like a cat circling its prey. “But then again, I’ve always found broken systems… entertaining.”

Your hand twitched toward the dagger hidden beneath your pillow, but Vivi was faster. In a flash, she was at your side, her hand clamping down on your wrist with surprising strength. Her breath brushed against your ear as she leaned in, her voice cold and commanding. “Don’t.”

The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on. You were trapped, two powerful women looming over you, their intentions unclear but undeniably dangerous.

It had started hours ago, though you hadn’t known it then. Jinsoul and Vivi had been watching you for days, studying your routines, your weaknesses. They’d moved like shadows, slipping through the cracks in your fortress’s defenses, their minds already set on their goal.

“You’re sure about this?” Vivi had asked, her voice low as they crouched in the darkness outside your walls. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of her face, highlighting the determination in her eyes.

Jinsoul had smirked, her fingers twirling a lock of dark hair. “When have I ever been wrong? He’s arrogant. Thinks he’s untouchable. That’s what makes him so… delicious.”

Vivi had frowned, her gaze flickering toward the fortress. “Arrogance can be dangerous.”

“So can we,” Jinsoul had countered, her tone light but laced with steel. “Besides, isn’t that why you’re here? To prove you’re the Dragon Queen? To show him you’re not just some girl from Gangnam?”

Vivi’s jaw had tightened, but she hadn’t argued. Together, they’d slipped into the fortress, their movements synchronized, their goals aligned—for now.

Back in the room, Jinsoul’s smirk widened as she leaned down, her face inches from yours. “You know, you’re quite the prize,” she purred, her fingers trailing along the edge of the bed. “The Tiger of the North. The man everyone fears. And yet, here you are, at our mercy.”

You glared up at her, your mind racing. “What do you want?”

Vivi’s grip on your wrist tightened, but it was Jinsoul who answered. “What do we want?” she echoed, her voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, Tiger, isn’t it obvious? We want you.”

The words hung in the air, charged with a tension that was impossible to ignore. Your heart pounded in your chest, your body caught between fight and flight. But there was something else, too—a strange, undeniable pull. These women, these predators, were unlike anyone you’d ever faced.

Jinsoul’s hand slipped beneath the sheets, her fingers brushing against your thigh. “You’ve been a thorn in our sides for far too long,” she murmured, her tone as sweet as poison. “But don’t worry. We’re not here to kill you. Not yet.”

Vivi’s grip loosened slightly, her other hand moving to your chest, her touch surprisingly gentle. “We’re here to see who you really are,” she said, her voice low and steady. “To see if you’re worth the trouble.”

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as a spark of heat flickered in your core. These women were dangerous, but there was something undeniably alluring about their confidence, their control.

Jinsoul leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “So, Tiger,” she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “Are you going to play along? Or are we going to have to… convince you?”

Before you could answer, Vivi’s lips claimed yours, her kiss fierce and demanding. Her hands were on you, her touch burning through the thin fabric of your shirt. You could feel her dominance, her need to claim. And then Jinsoul was there too, her teeth nipping at your neck, leaving a mark that would linger long after she was gone.

The room spun, your senses overwhelmed by the two women who had you completely at their mercy. Jinsoul’s laugh was low and throaty as she pulled back, her eyes dark with hunger. “Looks like we have our answer.”

Vivi’s lips curved into a smirk, her fingers tangling in your hair. “Now, let’s see if you can keep up.”

Their hands were everywhere, their touches fierce and possessive, and as the firelight flickered across the room, you realized something: this wasn’t just a game. This was a battle. And you were determined to come out on top.

“So, Tiger,” Jinsoul whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “Who’s going to win? You… or us?”

Your heart raced as their hands roamed, their lips claiming territory, marking you as theirs. And yet, beneath the heat and the danger, there was something else—something that made your pulse quicken even more. These women, these predators, weren’t just here to take. They were here to own.

And as their touches grew more insistent, their breaths more ragged, you realized something else: you didn’t want to escape. You wanted to win.

“Well?” Vivi’s voice was a whisper, her lips brushing against yours. “What’s it going to be?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you reached for her, your fingers tangling in her hair as you pulled her back into a kiss. Jinsoul’s laugh echoed in your ear, her hands moving lower, and as the firelight danced across the room, you knew one thing for certain: this was just the beginning.

The room was alive with the sound of heavy breaths and the crackling fire, the air thick with desire and danger. Jinsoul’s hands were everywhere—her nails raked down your chest, leaving faint red lines that stung in the most delicious way. She wasn’t just touching you; she was claiming you. Her lips found your neck, teeth grazing your skin before sinking in with a sharp bite that made you gasp. It wasn’t just a mark—it was a statement, her way of telling you who you belonged to now.

Vivi let out a low, throaty laugh as she watched, her dark eyes gleaming with a predatory light. She straddled you, her lithe body sliding against yours, her skin warm and smooth. Her lips found yours in a searing kiss, her tongue probing yours with a hunger that matched Jinsoul’s. She wasn’t just kissing you; she was devouring you. You could feel her hips grinding against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

Jinsoul’s hands moved lower, her fingers digging into your thighs as she positioned herself beside Vivi. Her voice was a sultry whisper in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, Tiger. You’re ours.”

Vivi pulled back from the kiss, her lips swollen and glistening. Her eyes locked onto yours, and she smirked, her expression equal parts challenge and invitation. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Before you could respond, Vivi shifted, her body moving with a fluid grace as she lowered herself onto you, taking you in one smooth motion. Your breath hitched, the sensation overwhelming. She was tight, hot, and demanding, her hips rolling in a rhythm that left no room for hesitation. Her hands braced against your chest, her nails digging in as she moved, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Jinsoul’s laugh was a low, delicious sound, her lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder, her teeth nipping at your skin. Her hands roamed over Vivi’s body, her fingers teasing and exploring, leaving Vivi moaning softly. “You look good together,” Jinsoul purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “But I think you’ll look even better with me.”

Vivi’s movements slowed, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Jinsoul. “You’re not the only one who gets to have him,” she said, her voice teasing but firm.

Jinsoul’s smirk widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Vivi’s in a kiss that was as much a challenge as it was a caress. “Then let’s share.”

The two women exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them, and then they were moving, their bodies shifting to accommodate both of them. Vivi rose slightly, her body trembling as Jinsoul positioned herself beneath you, her legs wrapping around your hips. The moment you entered her, you felt it—the tight, wet heat of her body, the way she clenched around you, drawing you in deeper. She was just as demanding as Vivi, her hips lifting to meet yours, her breath hitching as you thrust into her.

Vivi’s hands were on your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she leaned over you, her lips finding yours in a kiss that was as fierce as it was passionate. Her body moved against yours, her hips grinding against you as she took over, her rhythm slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jinsoul’s moans filled the room, her hands gripping your hips, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin. “Faster,” she whispered, her voice breathless and desperate. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

You obliged, your hips slamming into hers, the force of your thrusts driving her deeper into the bed. Vivi’s lips moved to your neck, her teeth sinking into your skin, marking you as hers. Her hips moved in tandem with yours, her body writhing against you, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

The room was a symphony of sounds—the crackling of the fire, the sharp intake of breath, the soft moans and gasps that filled the air. The two women were relentless, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, their desire consuming you completely.

Jinsoul’s legs tightened around your hips, her body trembling as she reached her peak, her moans growing louder and more frantic. Her nails dug into your skin, her back arching as she came, her body clenching around you, pulling you deeper.

Vivi’s lips trailed down your chest, her tongue teasing your skin as she moved lower, her hands gripping your hips as she took over, her rhythm fast and desperate. “You’re ours,” she whispered, her voice filled with a possessive heat. “And we’re not letting you go.”

Jinsoul’s hands roamed over your body, her fingers teasing and exploring, leaving you trembling with need. Her lips found yours in a searing kiss, her tongue probing yours as she moaned softly. “You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice filled with a dark promise. “We’re just getting started.”

Vivi’s body moved against yours, her hips grinding against you as she took over, her rhythm slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Her lips trailed down your chest, her tongue teasing your skin as she moved lower, her hands gripping your hips as she took over, her rhythm fast and desperate.

The room was alive with the sound of heavy breaths and the crackling fire, the air thick with desire and danger. Jinsoul’s hands were everywhere—her nails raked down your chest, leaving faint red lines that stung in the most delicious way. She wasn’t just touching you; she was claiming you. Her lips found your neck, teeth grazing your skin before sinking in with a sharp bite that made you gasp. It wasn’t just a mark—it was a statement, her way of telling you who you belonged to now.

Vivi let out a low, throaty laugh as she watched, her dark eyes gleaming with a predatory light. She straddled you, her lithe body sliding against yours, her skin warm and smooth. Her lips found yours in a searing kiss, her tongue probing yours with a hunger that matched Jinsoul’s. She wasn’t just kissing you; she was devouring you. You could feel her hips grinding against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure up your spine.

Jinsoul’s hands moved lower, her fingers digging into your thighs as she positioned herself beside Vivi. Her voice was a sultry whisper in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, Tiger. You’re ours.”

Vivi pulled back from the kiss, her lips swollen and glistening. Her eyes locked onto yours, and she smirked, her expression equal parts challenge and invitation. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Before you could respond, Vivi shifted, her body moving with a fluid grace as she lowered herself onto you, taking you in one smooth motion. Your breath hitched, the sensation overwhelming. She was tight, hot, and demanding, her hips rolling in a rhythm that left no room for hesitation. Her hands braced against your chest, her nails digging in as she moved, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Jinsoul’s laugh was a low, delicious sound, her lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder, her teeth nipping at your skin. Her hands roamed over Vivi’s body, her fingers teasing and exploring, leaving Vivi moaning softly. “You look good together,” Jinsoul purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “But I think you’ll look even better with me.”

Vivi’s movements slowed, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Jinsoul. “You’re not the only one who gets to have him,” she said, her voice teasing but firm.

Jinsoul’s smirk widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against Vivi’s in a kiss that was as much a challenge as it was a caress. “Then let’s share.”

The two women exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them, and then they were moving, their bodies shifting to accommodate both of them. Vivi rose slightly, her body trembling as Jinsoul positioned herself beneath you, her legs wrapping around your hips. The moment you entered her, you felt it—the tight, wet heat of her body, the way she clenched around you, drawing you in deeper. She was just as demanding as Vivi, her hips lifting to meet yours, her breath hitching as you thrust into her.

Vivi’s hands were on your chest, her nails digging into your skin as she leaned over you, her lips finding yours in a kiss that was as fierce as it was passionate. Her body moved against yours, her hips grinding against you as she took over, her rhythm slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jinsoul’s moans filled the room, her hands gripping your hips, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin. “Faster,” she whispered, her voice breathless and desperate. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

You obliged, your hips slamming into hers, the force of your thrusts driving her deeper into the bed. Vivi’s lips moved to your neck, her teeth sinking into your skin, marking you as hers. Her hips moved in tandem with yours, her body writhing against you, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

The room was a symphony of sounds—the crackling of the fire, the sharp intake of breath, the soft moans and gasps that filled the air. The two women were relentless, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, their desire consuming you completely.

Jinsoul’s legs tightened around your hips, her body trembling as she reached her peak, her moans growing louder and more frantic. Her nails dug into your skin, her back arching as she came, her body clenching around you, pulling you deeper.

Vivi’s lips trailed down your chest, her tongue teasing your skin as she moved lower, her hands gripping your hips as she took over, her rhythm fast and desperate. “You’re ours,” she whispered, her voice filled with a possessive heat. “And we’re not letting you go.”

Jinsoul’s hands roamed over your body, her fingers teasing and exploring, leaving you trembling with need. Her lips found yours in a searing kiss, her tongue probing yours as she moaned softly. “You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered, her voice filled with a dark promise. “We’re just getting started.”

Vivi’s body moved against yours, her hips grinding against you as she took over, her rhythm slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. Her lips trailed down your chest, her tongue teasing your skin as she moved lower, her hands gripping your hips as she took over, her rhythm fast and desperate.

The room was alive with the sound of heavy breaths and the crackling fire, the air thick with desire and danger. Jinsoul’s hands were everywhere—her nails raked down your chest, leaving faint red lines that stung in the most delicious way. She wasn’t just touching you; she was claiming you. Her lips found your neck, teeth grazing your skin before sinking in with a sharp bit.

You woke to the soft rustle of fabric and the low murmur of voices. The room was dimly lit, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows across the walls. For a moment, you lay still, your body heavy with the lingering warmth of sleep—and something else. Memories of the previous night flooded back in vivid detail, the heat, the biting, the claiming. Jinsoul and Vivi. Their names echoed in your mind like a mantra.

As you stirred, you noticed them. They were seated at the edge of the bed, their heads bent together, whispering intently. Their voices were low, but the tension between them was palpable. You could feel it in the air, like the static before a storm. What are they plotting now?

Jinsoul’s dark hair fell over her shoulders, her fingers tracing patterns on the bedsheet as she spoke. Vivi’s expression was sharp, her eyes glinting with a dangerous edge. They both turned to you simultaneously, their gazes locking onto yours like predators catching the scent of prey.

“You’re awake,” Jinsoul said, a sly smile curving her lips. She moved closer, her hand reaching out to tangle in your hair, pulling you toward her. Her touch was possessive, sending a shiver down your spine. She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. “We’ve been talking about you.”

Before you could respond, her lips crashed into yours, fierce and demanding. You groaned into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching for her. She didn’t let you pull away, her fingers tightening in your hair as she deepened the kiss, her tongue probing yours with a hunger that left you breathless.

Vivi’s laugh broke the moment, low and sultry. “Greedy, isn’t she?” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement. You felt her shift behind you, her hands sliding over your shoulders. Her lips brushed against your neck, teeth grazing your skin before sinking in with a playful bite. You hissed, your body arching instinctively into her touch.

“Stop teasing,” Jinsoul growled, breaking the kiss to glare at Vivi, though there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “He’s not just yours.”

Vivi smirked, her fingers tracing the mark she’d left on your neck. “Oh, but he is mine,” she murmured, her voice lilting with possessiveness. “Just as much as he’s yours.”

You could feel the tension between them, the rivalry simmering beneath the surface. It was intoxicating, the way they fought over you, their desire so raw and unfiltered.

“Enough,” you said, your voice low but firm. Both women froze, their eyes locking onto yours. There was a flicker of surprise in their expressions, and something else—respect. “If you’re both so determined to have me, then you’ll have to share.”

Jinsoul’s lips curled into a smirk. “Fair enough,” she said, her tone light but her eyes dark with promise. She leaned in again, her lips brushing against yours. “But don’t think for a second that I’ll let her have you without a fight.”

Vivi’s laugh was a low, throaty sound. “Bring it on, Jinsoul,” she said, her hands tightening on your shoulders. “I’m not afraid of a little competition.”

The air in the room shifted, the tension between them thickening. You could feel the heat radiating off their bodies, their desire a tangible force that left you aching for more.

Jinsoul’s lips trailed down your neck, her teeth nipping at your skin. “You’re ours,” she whispered, her voice filled with a possessive heat. “And we’re not letting you go.”

Vivi’s hands slid down your chest, her nails raking lightly over your skin. “You belong to us,” she murmured, her tone soft but laced with steel. “And we’re going to make sure everyone knows it.”

You groaned, your head falling back as their hands and mouths roamed over your body. The room was alive with the sound of heavy breaths and the crackling fire, the air thick with desire and danger.

Jinsoul’s fingers gripped your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she pulled you closer. Her lips found yours again, the kiss fierce and demanding. You could feel the heat of her body pressed against yours, her desire burning through you like a wildfire.

Vivi’s hands, not to be outdone, roamed the length of your arms, tracing every vein and sinew as if she was mapping her territory. Her breath was a whisper against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You’ve come this far, Tiger,” she said, her voice low. “And now, you’re ours.”

But just as the fervor began to escalate, Jinsoul pulled back, her eyes glinting with a playful challenge. “So, we’ve decided,” she said, her tone coy yet firm. “We’re both going to marry you.”

Vivi nodded, her smirk widening. “That’s right. You’re ours, and that’s final.”

You blinked, trying to process their words. “Marry me? Both of you?” The question hung in the air, met with twin smirks from each woman.

“Why not?” Jinsoul purred, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your chest. “We’re both in love with you, and we’re not exactly the type to share.”

Vivi leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “Besides, you’re the one who said we’d have to share you. This is our solution.”

The intensity of their stares made you realize there was no room for argument. They had you, and they knew it. They had already made up their minds—your life, your loyalty were theirs.

“Alright,” you said, your tone firm but laced with amusement. “But you both have to understand—I’m not going to be easy to handle.”

Jinsoul grinned, her teeth glinting in the firelight. “Oh, we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you stood to face them, Jinsoul wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. Her lips found yours once more, the kiss deep and unhurried. Vivi stepped closer, her hands sliding over your shoulders, her lips brushing against your neck.

Their touches, their breaths, their presence—it was intoxicating. You were theirs, and they were yours. Together, you would control everything, bending the very world to your will.

As the fire crackled in the background, the room filled with the sounds of gasps and moans, the air thick with need. You found yourself pulled back into the bed, their hands and mouths roaming your body, claiming you once more, their whispers of possession ringing in your ears.

“You’re ours,” Jinsoul whispered, her voice soft but filled with steel. “And we’re never letting you go.”

Vivi’s lips brushed against your ear, her tone low and sultry. “We’ll own you—body, soul, and everything in between

Together, we’re unstoppable. And you’re at the center of it all. Forever ours.”

The firelight danced across the room, casting flickering shadows over the tangled sheets, as their lips once again found yours. The game had ended, but the real adventure was just beginning, and there was no turning back now.

[thoughtdaughtersworld]

Silent Lullabies

Azriel X f!reader

Summary: There's an attack on Velaris and you and Azriel are struggling to reconnect after sudden events that leave the both of you broken beyond repair.

Warnings: miscarriage, angst, drinking and suicidal thoughts!!

Word count:  1.3K

Note: I've been debating posting this but I hope you all like it.

———————————————————————————

You’re at home when you feel a sudden shake in the Earth. You're at home alone because your mate had some work to do and even though he had trouble leaving you this late into your pregnancy, you had assured him that you were going to be okay. How cruel faith was. You  run to the nearest window and see people scrambling to get to safety. Velaris was under attack.

Your door busts open and you pick up Truthteller ready to defend yourself. “Y/n?” Azriel shouts frantically. “Azriel?” you call out panicked from your room. He rushes into the bedroom and the first thing you notice is the blood on his hand and he looked like he was about to throw up. 

“Are you alright?” He asks immediately, looking you up and down looking for injuries. You nod, placing both hands on his cheeks. “Are you?” Your gaze flickers back to the blood staining his hands.

 “I'm fine love, it's not mine” he reassures you. “Is everyone okay?” you ask worried about the others and azriel lets out a tired sigh, his fingers stroking your stomach. He didn't want to add to your already rising anxiety. “Everyones fine, we just need to get to the house of wind, Rhys and Cassian are on the front lines right now but it's going to be okay”.

You sigh and look at him “how are we gonna get there az, i can't fly or winnow when i'm pregnant” azriel rubs a hand over his face. He had completely forgotten that you can't winnow and he didn't want to risk that. “We’ll just have to run or something, i'll try to keep up” you add, attempting a weak smile, though the thought of running when you could barely make it through the house without losing your breath felt impossible.

He wanted to protest because the thought of putting you in discomfort was gnawing at him. “Az we need to go now” you say looking outside and seeing more people screaming and running. He grabs your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “No matter what you stay behind me and if there's any sign of trouble I want you to run okay?” he says and you open your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

As you both make your way out, Azriels grip on your hand is tight as he leads you through the streets keeping you close to him. He had his other hand guiding your eyes away from the dead bodies that littered the ground. Azriel’s presence is the only thing keeping you grounded, his calm strength a fragile thread in the chaos.

You turn into a street and five men start approaching you. “If it isn't the shadowsinger and his little mate” the one leading sneers and the others chuckle darkly, their eyes glinting with malice. Azriel immediately pulls you closer to his side, his wings flaring slightly as his body shields you protectively. His posture is tense, his shadows coiled, but he knows he can’t act rashly, not with your life and the baby’s on the line.

 “Remember what i said, if this goes south, i want you to run. immediately” he orders, his voice low enough for only you to hear. You glance up at him, your heart hammering in your chest. His jaw is set, his hazel eyes sharp and focused, but beneath the steely exterior, you can sense his worry.

The lapdogs charge for azriel and you do everything you can to not freak out. Azriel moves with lethal grace, his shadows moving frantically. They seem to move in sync with his every move, attacking with a precision only Azriel is capable of. A few shadows detach, staying close to you, their presence a small comfort in the chaos. But even with his unmatched skill, the men are surprisingly skilled too, their movements sharp and coordinated. This was not an easy fight.

You feel someone's hand clamp on your mouth suddenly as you get dragged away. The last thing you hear is azriel screaming your name. You bite down hard on your captor’s hand. He roars in pain, releasing you just enough for you to twist out of his grasp, stumbling forward, barely catching yourself. 

You start running when you're dragged back by your hair “Let me go” you struggle against him and you feel a cold blade press against your throat making you freeze.

He leans in close, his voice low and cold “Not so tough now, are you?” his breath hot against your ear. “What do you want?” you spit, your voice steady despite the blade biting into your skin

His smirk widens “Oh aren't you tough” he mocks the dagger pressing harder against your skin. “What do you think I want, little girl?” you hiss “I am no girl” and you watch in disgust as he laughs “No, you're not, you're a pregnant girl, which makes you more valuable to me” your heart drops and the urge to protect burns so deep in your body. Not just yourself, but the life growing inside you.

He has no time to react as you take Truthteller and stab it in his neck with all the strength you can muster. He gasps and struggles for air, he tries to say something, but instead coughs up a lungful of blood before falling to the ground .His cries of pain turn into gurgled whimpers, and then silence. The only sound left is your labored breathing as you kneel over his lifeless body.

You fall to the ground exhausted as you stare at the blood all over you. Your entire body shakes as adrenaline courses through your veins. You begin to feel weak and lightheaded

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Azriel runs through the bodies he had just discarded, his eyes desperately searching for any sign of you. His heart pounding in his chest as he calls out your name, his voice getting more frantic. He should have been with you, he should have been there for you. If anything happened to you, he was never going to forgive himself–

He finally sees you. You were kneeling on the ground, your hands on your stomach, and your face was hauntingly pale. He rushes over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you. His eyes taking in your exhausted form and the exhaustion on your face.

You look up at azriel and the relief you felt was overwhelming. He wraps you in his arms. His face buried in your hair, his body shaking with a mixture of fear and relief. And then he began to cry. “I was so scared” his grip on you was tightening as he held you.

He took a shaky breath, “I should've been here” he whispered. “I should have been here to protect you”.  You gently place your hands on his cheeks, lifting his face to meet your gaze. “ it wasn't your fault”, you say softly, your voice firm “And besides, it looks like i did pretty  good on my own” you tease looking at the dead body beside you. 

He chuckles softly, “yeah you did good love”. He looks down at you again looking for injuries. Az are you and y/n okay? We just got rid of the attackers, where are you? Rhys voice booms in his ear. Yh we’re fine, on our way.

 Azriel stands up “Rhys is waiting for us, you ready?” he asks as he helps you stand up, but before you can answer, a sharp pain radiates through your stomach, stealing your breath. You clutch at Azriel’s arm, your face twisting in pain. “Something’s wrong” you say to azriel and his eyes widen as your hand flies to your stomach. “Y/n? what's wrong” his voice laces with worry. 

 Instinctively, your hands go to your stomach, and when you pull them back, your heart stops. Blood

[zentusichernun]

I waited for this post my whole life. I am a serial album collector (I have more than 300 CDs and some vynils) so I'll pick my favuorite ones.

The Sounds of Scars by Life of Agony is a story of a young boy trying to, ahem, let the blood flowing in his wrists have a nice day out of its fleshy prision, and how he carries inside the scars of that action in his adult age. I play that album everytime I suffer for anything. I ran in my car in the night ugly crying and screaming that album till my throat hurt because no one can hear you scream while going 90 km/h on the highway in the night.

The Spell by Cellar Darling is a concept album that tells the beautiful story of a girl born from the Pain of the Earth to try to show humanity the clear scars of Climate Change, but no one listens to her. And this is only song one. The incredible part is that she meets the Incarnation of Death, falls in love with it, Death falls in love with her, so it secretly casts a spell of eternal life on the girl. So she wakes up and not finding his love again decides to, ahem, call it back by damaging her fleshy robot. I won't spoil the finale, but I'll point out to the fanfic sequel posted on Cellar Darling's site of a contest they held for the album release.

Septicflesh's Infernus Simphonica is the recording of their live show with orchestra made in Mexico. They are a greek band thar plays symphonic death metal, so a mixture of classic music and death metal. Incredible stuff.

Sacred Steel's Wargods of Metal was my introduction to the metal genre and my 15 yo self imagined a whole fanfiction turning the songs in the album into a story. Heavy Metal to the end!

Another concept album: Fear Factory, in their golden age, released Obsolete, which can be easily recognized by the human brain and spine shown on the cover in the shape of... you'll get it when you see it. It's a sci-fi novel told through the eyes of an escaped prisoner that comes face to face with an harsh dystopia where people's lives and values have been discarded for the glory of those in their ivory towers, machines impose a strict ruling and religion is forgotten.

Fleshgod Apocalypse's King is an eye-catching symphonic death metal album (go Italy!) which details in its songs various figures of a court surrounding a king. You have to listen to the intro of "The Fool" this is a threat, you have no choice in the matter, if you read this influenza-induced brainrot till here you HAVE to listen to it. Mostly though, I have to point out their latest album: Opera! It's one of the best metal albums I've heard AND marked as one of the best metal albums of 2024 by experts. It's based on the thoughts of the band's leader, Francesco Paoli, after his fall during a climbing excursion wich left him hurt, scarred and needing serious surgery. And he STILL plays death metal with an half bionic arm. Legend.

Genus Ordinis Dei's Glare of Delieverance is a story of a witch being burned at the stake, only for her master to use her as conduit to emerge in the lhysical world. There's an associated movie on youtube.

Gojira's Fortitude is amazing, period.

Thornstar by Lord of the Lost is the first album I bought with my money. The band created a fictional cutlure to justify eurasian's ancient cultural roots, crafted a religion for them, crafted a downloadable alphabet and turned the band members into paintings that can be seen shining into the Aythor's music video. I am especially ennamored with the closing song, "Ruins".

Zetra is a new band to hit the scenes. Their gothic tones and ethereal sounds chill my bones and makes me feel like I'm stargazing into the heart of the cosmos and understanding its secrets only for a short second, before losing it all. Their album bears the name of the band, and it's the latest album I bought, fit to conclude this long ass post.

Final note: as I said I'm a devoted album collector and I have more than 300 CDs and I recently started collecting vynils because my sister stole my copy of Disintegration by The Cure and got a vynil copy for spite: I got the bigger vintage CD, who's laughing now?

(Also I am forced to offer you the humble Stairway to Valhalla by Nanowar of Steel because any band that can make a song about the Uranus joke has to be recommended)

it bothers me that you often don't really hear about people having a "favorite album" the way they might have a favorite movie or favorite video game

[writersblockedx]

Wedded Under War

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, slight Bestfriend!Steve Rodgers x Reader Summary - New York is plagued by a war between the White Wolves and SHIELD. Your older brother comes up with a solution: Wed you to their leader, Bucky Barnes. Warnings - Violence, arranged marriage Words - 2K

Masterlist

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, it was tainted in blood. It was a plan, to gather information without the man having any idea what he was doing, nor who he was talking to. Steve Rodgers and your older brother, Tony, had hatched the plan when you just turned twenty-one. For you to waltz in there, flirt enough and get him drunk enough that his tongue would slip. It should have been easy. In and out without the need for violence. Something so sparse in your line of work.

Natasha had picked out a dress for you. One that matched the formality of your old prom dress. Silk and tight, with barely any room for you to breathe. Tucked underneath, in case of emergency, were your weapons: A pistol, and a couple of knives. "Just in case." Natasha had assured as she strapped the last switchblade around your ankle.

And like that, you slipped out from the van where Steve and Natasha would be monitoring you. Flashing some fake confidence as you wandered towards a cocktail bar you had never stepped foot in before. It was for the rich kids of New York. The trust fund babies, the future lawyers and, most importantly, Bucky Barnes' favourite spot after a long week of causing havoc.

You ignored the rest of the crowd, heading towards the marble bar where you ordered a martini for the nerves. You cared little for what you were doing, your intention more than anything was to impress your brother in hopes of gaining more involvement with the job. If that meant looking pretty and flirting aimlessly with Bucky Barnes then so be it.

The moment your lips hit the drink, your eyes finally scanned the room. You gazed across the drunken Ivy League types who were trying to impress people with their knowledge of the stock market. It didn't take long to find the man who didn't fit with the rest of the crowd: nestled in the corner, in a leather booth seated the leader of the White Wolves. He wore a clean shirt and blazer, ensuring you could still see his bulging biceps through the material. 

Within seconds, his eyes finally caught your obvious flirty gaze. It was a silent invitation for him to come over and join you. He was desperate, hungry from the get-go. He whispered something in his right man's ear before standing and waltzing over to you like he owned the place - which he probably actually did. "What are you drinking?" He questioned, smoothly.

You forced a smirk to your lips, "Why?" Your head tilted. "You buying?"

"Only if you say please." Had he been any other man, had this not been the job, you might have smacked him there and then.

Instead, you kept your expression stable and said, "I'll have a martini, please."

He nodded and returned his attention to the bartender, "An old fashioned and a martini." He requested. When the bartender had his back turned, Bucky gazed back at the pretty thing of interest. "I've never seen you here before."

"I'm meeting a friend." You lied before staring down at your watch. "At least I'm meant to be, they're late."

"Well, if you don't mind, I can keep you company." He didn't wait for your answer before slipping into the bar stool beside you.

"Of course, I don't."

Two drinks landed in front of you. Bucky thanked the man and tipped him ten times the amount any normal person would. But Bucky Barnes wasn't just anyone. He was rich with dirty money and had half of New York at his beck and call. "Cheers," He raised his glass, clinking it with your own.

Your brother always taught you to be careful around your drinks. He showed you how easy the enemies of the job could slip something in, to take advantage. And that worry laid heavy on your mind as you watched Bucky take his first sip. You barely let your lips touch the glass before placing it back on the bar. "So what do I call you?"

Another thing Tony had taught you was to never give your real name. "Natalie." Was the first thing you thought of; the same alias Natasha used. "And you?"

Bucky wasn't quite as smart. Or maybe he was just egotistical and liked the idea of the pretty girl calling his name. "Bucky." He nodded.

Your eyes flickered back over to his men who were still situated in the booth, throwing back neat whisky like it went down the same as water. They wouldn't be able to do much in that state. "You sure your friends don't mind you spending your time over here with me?" You queried.

Bucky smiled at the thought, "Please, they're too busy fighting over what gun has the best range." You doubted that was a lie. Maybe most other girls would have thought so, some maybe even laughed, but not you. "We can always join them if you'd like."

At that, you jumped, your hand practically crawling at his forearm for him to stay. "No," You spoke, almost too stern. "I like being here." You plastered that smirk back onto your face.

Bucky sank into his seat, not hiding the way his eyes followed your nails toward your body in that dress. "Good," He whispered.

You slowly let your hand slide away from his skin, "So what is that you do? Other than argue over other weapons?" You let the conversation change to something you might be able to get information on.

"Business."

"A bit vague, isn't it?" You jabbed for him to speak more. But, the best way to do that, was to put him at ease. For him to be far more interested in something else other than what he was saying. So your hand returned to his forearm, gently caressing against his skin. "I mean, you look like you must do something important." You smiled his way, not letting your eyes drop from his body.

"Importing." He finally answered and you realised you were getting somewhere.

So you let your hand slowly drag down his biceps which, while any other girl might have found hot, you were already calculating how hard his punch would hit against your face. "Hm, and what is it you import?" You questioned.

To your expectation, he was watching your movement carefully, a smirk plastered at his lips. "You ask a lot of questions."

You shrugged, moving your hand further and further down till it reached his finger tips, grazing across them. "You seem like an interesting man." You muttered.

"Maybe I want to know about you." He returned, leaning forward enough to put a hand to your thigh. But rather than finding your skin, his fingers hit something hard and metallic. The very weapon you had there, just in case. Your hand fell from his entirely, feeling his body tense at the touch of betrayal. You didn't move. "You should have known better than to come into my bar, in my city, with a silly little weapon like that." 

He was still. The man made no move for his own weapon that you were certain he was hiding under his blazer jacket. So, instead, you moved first. Your hand reached out, gripping at his brunette locks before forcing his head onto the marble bar side. A clash sounded at the impact. Enough to alert the rest of the customers who started screeching for help.

You rushed backwards, hand gripping at the gun that had outed you. Bucky stood from the bar stool, his hand wiping away at the blood which dripped from his forehead. Anger seethed in his pupils. Enough to make you search for cover as you caught the way his hand reached into his jacket pocket as you expected. "Move!" You ordered a group of college students.

Bullets whipped passed your head as you watched the rest of Bucky's men join in. Luckily, all the neat whiskeys had made their aim lazy. In the nick of time, you threw a table over onto its side and you covered your body against it, feeling every bullet which hit the wooden surface. The only thing protecting you from life and death.

Your hand pressed against the earpiece Natasha had given you, "Hey, you guys hearing this?"

"What the hell did you do?" The woman chimed in first as you leaned slightly over the top of the table to get a shot. One of which you assumed you missed as the bullets continued.

"Are you okay?" Asked Steve.

"Just one of you get in here please!" You begged.

You didn't understand the reply, but you liked to assume one of your friends were on their way. By now, most of the other customers had rushed out from the bar, the staff hidden in the back as the firing continued until the men started to run out of bullets. Despite their array of weapons, they weren't prepared for one girl to ruin their Friday night drinks. So without any extra ammo, they were left with one option: hand-to-hand combat.

When the firing stopped, your head looked above the wood once again, watching as Rumlow handed Barnes one of his daggers. You stood, kicking the table back in the way of Barnes. You raised your gun, an easy shot if you dared to take it. "You, silly little girl." Bucky spat.

Your head tilted at him and the rest of the men who had no way of hurting her anymore. Not when she was the only one with any ammo left. "Really? Looks to me that I'm the one with the upper hand." You pointed out.

The front door to the bar swung open. Out of instinct, they each held up their guns, without the ability to shoot at the red-headed Russian. "Let's go!" She ordered.

You gave Bucky one last victory glance before running back over to Natasha and exiting the bar unscathed. It had certainly been one way to welcome you to the job. 

---

"This has got to be a fucking joke?"

The stern expressions that faced you suggested they were all in fact serious. After years of war and bloodshed, this was their only solution for peace. "You want me- me to marry Barnes? That's-" You laughed at the idea of a domestic life alongside Bucky Barnes. It was such a stupid idea, you seriously couldn't imagine it. "That's obscene."

"It's tactical." Natasha offered.

To which, you gazed over at her as she stood beside the desk where Tony sat. His office was always filled by henchmen and paperwork. "Why aren't you the one marrying him then? Why do I get the short straw?"

"Because I'm not a Stark." She made a good point; a Stark marrying a Barnes would be more of a statement. The two names which battled over New York coming together through a marriage.

"It's the only way to keep everyone safe." Tony reasoned, making your eyes roll.

You scoffed, "Safe? Are you kidding me?" You couldn't image anything more dangerous than sleeping beside Bucky Barnes. "I would rather have that man stab me through the heart than put a flashy ring on his finger and call him mine!"

Steve, who had been quiet ever since the news dropped, finally met your eyes. "You don't have a choice."

Your breath fell hot when it left your tongue. These people, your family, your closest friends, suddenly taking control of your life for the sake of business. With no thought on how you would take it. Even now, despite your obvious distaste for the idea, they were pushing it. So it should have been expected when you faced the blonde man only to raise your hand, letting a slap fall firm against his cheek. 

You hated the sting on your palm as you faced Steve's huff as he settled in the pain. But maybe it was deserved. To have been used for years to do nothing but the small jobs, arranging staff, but never being at the forefront of the job. Suddenly, they were throwing you in the deep end. The worse of the worse: to marry Bucky Barnes. You left them with one thought, "I won't do it."

[plumbley-bee]

Ok, I was only very loosely into the dsmp back in the day. My friend liked it so I checked it out but I became a fan of ranboo more than anything and then got to a point where I haven't watched pretty much any "streamer" for a long time. But I've watched Tubbos videos on this whole situation while at work (except for the 5 hour vod but I'll get to that tomorrow) and I started rewatching the vod of him and Dreams conversation they had tonight on the way home and I have things to say.

As someone who was raised alongside a self-proclaimed narcissist and "chronic gaslighter", it is so obvious to me that Dream literally is trying to play every tactic in the manipulation book, AND HE'S NOT EVEN THAT GOOD AT IT!!

My brother gaslite and manipulated people (mainly me) for fun my whole childhood. That's something he admits to. I'm well fucking versed in the kinds of tactics those kind of people use that I'm at a point where I start critiquing them in my head because my brother was so good at it that it makes the people who aren't just look stupid.

And Dream? The only tactic he seems capable of relying on is deflection and ignoring the topics Tubbo is trying to address entirely.

Every. Single. Time. It goes; Tubbo asks a question, dream talks himself in a circle and goes off on tangents that aren't actually what Tubbo asked, and then Tubbo drags him right back to the point and doesn't let him get away with his attempt at gaining control of the conversation with his deflection, brings up the point he was ACTUALLY MAKING AGAIN, catches Dream off guard with a valid point, which causes Dream to be off balance because his tactic didn't work then leading him to ignore the point Tubbo made because he KNOWS Tubbo got his ass and there's no way for him to respond without looking like an ass. Then he deflects again and starts ranting about things that are still not relevant to what Tubbo is actually saying.

So far, I'm about halfway through, and it's just been that. Over, and over, and over.

It's.

Laughable.

The amount of times I was able to point out his poor attempts at trying to make the conversation go his way on my drive home from work today got me cackling.

Personally, I think going into this Dream got way too cocky at the idea of hashing this out on stream with Tubbo because he underestimates him and always has. I don't think he was prepared for Tubbo to be as clear and collected and informed as he was, and I think it threw Dream off his game. I hope he's so fucking embarrassed because he comes across as utterly pathetic in comparison to Tubbo during their whole interaction.

[planetsandstarsandstuff]

Astrology Notes/Observations:

(please do not copy or repost on other platforms)

Every time a Saturn-Venus native tries to reduce signs of aging, an angel loses its wings 💔 but seriously, old age suits these people SO well - if you have this placement please keep all your greys and fine lines!! I beg! (i may be slightly biased because i think aging looks great on everyone, but these individuals wear it particularly well).

Mars-Moon/Cancer Mars/Mars influencing the 4th house = angry criers

I find those with Neptune influence on the ascendant can seem to resemble almost anyone they stand next to; they may often be told they remind others of different people. (Neptune = illusions, fluidity, ambiguity, Ascendant = physical appearance).

Mercury in the 5th house synastry: We may be more likely to use pet names/terms of endearment here, even if it's not usually our thing - it feels natural to express affection (5H) in conversation (Mercury). The nicknames we have for each other may also be unique or creative in some way.

Those with Venus in the 1st have an eye for beauty and can really excel in fields related to artistry, appearance, or refinement of some kind (e.g., makeup artistry, styling, design, illustration, etc.) These people instinctively know what looks good.

3H Mars synastry 🤝 arguing like siblings

Having Capricorn over the 5th house can sometimes indicate having a preference for music/films/books that are quite dated; these people tend to have a highly developed and mature taste in art/media.

Having Neptune influencing the 3rd or 11th house can indicate feeling invisible or forgotten among peers - these people might feel they blend into the background in social settings.

Mars transits tend to instill a sense of urgency in whichever house is being affected. For example:

Mars transiting our 6H - feeling pushed to get our life in order, driven to create structure + take action surrounding work/responsibilities.

Mars transiting our 9H - feeling pushed to expand our horizons (possibly through long-distance travel, higher education, etc.) feeling anxious/unsettled staying where we are in life, wanting to explore.

Mars transiting our 10H - feeling pushed to determine our 'purpose'/vocation or take action in pursuing our ambitions, feeling driven toward success.

8th housers often take pride in their ability to psychoanalyze people; they are not, however, always good at it - these people can be real armchair psychologists (sorry).

Saturn transiting the 5th house: Things that may have otherwise been fleeting interests can become long-lasting fixations during this time (i.e., romances, hobbies, modes of self expression). Saturn is infusing this normally carefree house with a sense of gravity and endurance.

Having Uranus in the 4th house can sometimes point to living far away from family or being habitually away from the home/family.

I've found Mercury-Venus aspects in synastry (particularly the harsh aspects) can show up as the Mercury person constantly pointing out Venus' flaws or insecurities, sometimes without even realizing. Mercury can also be critical of Venus' social skills and may try to correct qualities of theirs they perceive as unlikable. Venus is put off by the Mercury person's endless nitpicking and might pull back from connecting as a result.

We might find we cry more easily when the Moon is transiting a water sign (Cancer/Scorpio/Pisces) or when transiting Moon is forming an aspect to our natal Moon. This can also be true for transiting Moon touching our IC/4th house.

I've noticed Mars-Mercury natives tend to enjoy banter more than most.

Neptune influencing Mercury/3H in the natal chart can sometimes indicate being good at impressions or being able to easily alter one's voice/speech - this can be a great placement for actors (voice actors in particular).

I find those with 7th house placements are often more codependent/relationship-oriented than those with Libra placements alone.

I know it's been said before, but Scorpio risings really do resemble vampires (Nicole Kidman, Diana Ross, Kate Bush, Prince, Lana Del Ray, Frank Ocean, Lily Rose Depp, Fiona Apple..i mean come on!!)

I recently came across a video of Sheryl Lee Ralph discussing the freedom within her marriage, saying "[My husband] has his own life, I have my own life. He has his own real career, I have my own real career. He has his light to stand in, I have my light to stand in. [...] He's doing his thing, I get to do my thing. We also live in separate places; when I go to see him, love to see him. When it's time to leave, 'bye-bye, see ya soon.' I'm telling you, life is good; perfect!" I looked up her chart and of course she's a Sagittarius Venus LMAO - she really is in her ideal relationship. (Jupiter-Venus natives may relate to this as well.)

That's all, thanks for reading!

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

So a fucking cardiologist on Tiktok pointed out you're supposed to rate it based on your pain.

Not even necessarily what that pain scale does, but your history with pain. The pain scale pictured here is a great guideline but think about the worst pain you've ever personally felt.

And try to think about your current pain in relation to that.

So like. The worst pain you've ever felt is a 10.

For me, that's either when my L5-S1 disc re-herniated after I'd had surgery on it, or at age 10, when I stepped on a screwdriver and it went through my foot (we didn't have insurance at the time but my dad had been an Army nurse so he did at-home, non-anesthetized surgery on me. The surgery hurt but it didn't hurt worse than the initial pain so I didn't really cry or whimper much). Those were both pretty fucking bad.

You also have to try really hard not to take into account how much you may have gotten used to pain. Remember: most people exist at a 0 on a daily basis, so if you're feeling pain, it's not a zero.

My normal level of pain, based on that criteria, is a 4 on good days, a 6 on rainy/snowy/cold days, and a 9 during a serious flare-up.

Nothing quite tops the screwdriver incident, although the re-herniation was really fucking close. I recently found out that I have spinal torsion - my vertebrae in my sacral area have twisted. My physical therapist cannot tell how long it's been there, but at least since my first MRI on record, in 2016. So it makes sense for me to be in pain pretty much always, especially now that my arthritis is hurting more. I may have had this issue since birth, but he thinks it's more likely it happened when I was about 12 or 13, when I first sprained my right ankle. The incident that permanently screwed up my ankle also probably twisted the entire S1-5 area of my spine. At least, that's when I first recall having pain in that area that was sharp and spiky rather than dull.

I've been stabbed. I haven't been shot, but multiple people have told me that being shot, oddly, tends to hurt less than stabbing (depending on where it is). I've never broken a bone all the way through. But I've torn muscles and ligaments, and I've had discs blow, and I've had a screwdriver go through my foot.

But keep in mind, I'm so used to pain that at my 9, I can still drive. Not particularly well, but enough to get to a hospital. I've never lost consciousness because of pain, despite having some shit happen (see above) that my physical therapist has said should absolutely have made me faint. I have, naturally, a tolerance to pain, plus I'm in chronic pain. It's unlikely I'll ever lose consciousness from pain. That doesn't mean I haven't experienced a 10. I absolutely have. It's the screwdriver through the foot. The stabbing was maybe a 7 compared to that.

So the guide is Extremely Good for people with non-chronic pain, and somewhat useful for those in chronic pain. But don't forget that pain is relative, so you need to think about it in relative terms.

My face is having uncontrollable spasms. Great. It hurts really, really, really bad.

I think part of why I have trouble explaining pain to the doctor is when they ask about the pain scale I always think “Well, if someone threw me down a flight of stairs right now or punched me a few times, it would definitely hurt a lot more” so I end up saying a low number. I was reading an article that said that “10” is the most commonly reported number and that is baffling to me. When I woke up from surgery with an 8" incision in my body and I could hardly even speak, I was in the most horrific pain of my life but I said “6” because I thought “Well, if you hit me in the stomach, it would be worse.”

[fangirl-problems101]

“Earn It”

angstangstangst reader’s brother committed suicide due to bullying about being quirkless, so learning about everything Bakugo has put Midoriya through hits reader hard

katsuki bakugo x reader

CW: suicide mentions, bullying, middle school katsuki (a content warning all on its own), the word "k*ll"

wc: 601

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“I hate bullies.”

Bakugo stiffens, feeling a chill inch down every vertebra of his spine. He clenches his jaw, “…what makes ya say that, Y/N?”

Your eyes are dark, and a vacant yet haunting expression has taken over your face in a way that makes his chest constrict. ‘I don’t like this.’

“Who tells someone to take a swan dive off a roof, Katsuki?”

‘Oh.’

He takes a breath, willing himself to stay calm. “…an idiot with an inferiority complex.”

You raise a brow, “Mm.” A hum. The expression is still there, as well as a cold, steel glint in your eyes.

“What if he did it, huh? What if he went through with what that ‘idiot with an inferiority complex’ suggested?”

“…I–“

“Do you realize just how unheroic and idiotic that is, Katsuki? How disgustingly inhumane that is?”

The words felt like a kick to the guts. ‘What if he DID do it?’

“Heroes are protectors. People who put their lives on the line for the people around them. They don’t tear other people apart and tell them to kill themselves.” There was a twitch in the expression now. A nerve got hit, this wasn’t just about Izuku anymore.

He eyes you warily, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat and force himself to stay steady. ‘You can’t shake right now, stay still. Stay calm.’

“My brother went through with it.”

He stopped breathing, face pale and palms sweaty. The panic in the back of his throat wouldn’t go down. Fully facing you now, he knew why it hit home even more. He licks his dry lips, lets out a shaky breath, “I-I’m so–”

“Sorry?” Your dry chuckle made his eyes glance back up to your face. “Yeah, me too. He was absolutely brilliant. Quirkless, but he didn’t even need one with how sharp his mind was.” Eyes flashing, you jerk your chin up to look him in the eyes, "People like you took him, Bakugo. I'm not sure if I can forgive you for that. After all, he would've just been some useless extra to you anyway even if he were still alive, right?"

Katsuki's eyes were wide and his hands were shaking.

"So if being a hero is just some ego trip for you, stay out of my way." You turn to leave, tears burning in your eyes and a hot pain in your throat, but he caught your wrist. You didn't want to look him in the eyes.

"I'll earn it."

A scoff passes your lips, "Prove what, oh Great Explosion Murder God?" You sneak a glimpse up at him and your chest tightens.

His eyes are pitiful, teary and red around the rims, "Yer forgiveness. Respect? Approval? Whatever it is. I'll earn it, Y/N, if it's the last thing I do." He glances down at your wrist, relaxing his hold as he hesitantly takes your hand. "...really, 'm so sorry. I used to be a terrible person--man, still am some days--but I promise I'm changing, that I've been changing. Crap, I'm no good with words," he ran his fingers through his hair, and for a second he seemed much smaller than he was.

You've never seen him so... vulnerable. Almost weak.

He glances down at you through his bangs, unshed tears still lining his lids, "Whatever it takes. I'll do it. I swear to ya." His voice starts to waver and he gets quieter, "Just... please. Please don't shut me out. I'll earn it."

Tears stream down your cheeks as you choke back a small sob, shoulders shaking, "Then earn it, Katsuki."

-------------------------------------------------------

heyyy so i was feeling angsty, sorry >_< might do a part two if it gets requested, it'd be like a time skip <3 hope you enjoyed the angst, babes

[frownyalfred]

Hi! Not sure if this has been asked before but I've recently fell into the rabbit hole of the Batman/DCU fandom and I'm still starting out as a fanfic writer. I wanted to ask, how do you handle characterization for the batfam and their dynamics as a writer? I always felt so overwhelmed with how much content and interpretations there was to sift through!

My advice is highlight what characteristics YOU like about a batfam character and not just the ones you think should be present in any given batfam fic. There’s so much content out there, like you said — trying to include all of it and balance those divergent viewpoints just leads to writer frustration.

Also don’t include more than you’re ready for, especially when you’re first starting out. People will tell you that you’re a terrible person if you don’t include every single batkid in a batfam fic. But if you really get Dick, and maybe Tim, and that’s all you want to include? Heck yeah! The other characters will come as you read and write more over time. Don’t let folks rush you or tell you that you HAVE to understand them all at once and have a working knowledge of every character in order to be “good.”

[avelera]

(Writing Meta) Syncing Opposites: The Stuff of Popular Ships

I've been thinking about some of the fandom-darling most popular ships in my orbit and noticing patterns.

For example, many popular ships tend to pair together two opposites, the Red Oni x Blue Oni, or the traditional Odd Couple pairing (often a comedy duo). Indeed, pretty much ever buddy act in media inevitably gets shipped, even if it wasn't intended, from Mulder and Scully, Kirk and Spock, to pretty much literally any cop duo.

But it's not quite as simple as setting up two people to be opposites, especially if you're a writer trying to make the ship work. To my eyes, the actual formula is this:

Character A x Character B 1) What they have in common that is central to the overarching plot (or their character's individual plot) or theme. 2) A concept that is central to them or their story in which they are polar opposites 3) Bonus points if their character or overarching plots eventually close the gap on the differences between them OR swap entirely.

The similarities and differences are not limited to one each. Let's go through some examples.

Wicked (Musical): Elphaba x Glinda

1) What they have in common: Magic. Both women are interested in improving their skills at magic, one is naturally gifted, the other wants to learn. Or, they both arguably want to be at the center of important events. These desires force them into proximity with each other. 2) Concept central to their story or themes in which they are opposite: Popularity. Elphaba is so unpopular that it's almost comical, whereas Glinda is THE popular girl. There's a song about it and everything. This concept has thematic resonance throughout the story of Wicked, which enagages with themes of popularity, personal presentation, propaganda, and societal injustice. By putting Elphaba and Glinda on either side of the concept of "popularity" we can more deeply explore these themes.

Arcane: Jayce x Viktor

1 ) What they have in common: Science. Science brings these two together into the story and they share the same level of obsession with it. It drives their desires in the world.

2) Concept central to their story or themes in which they are opposites: Physical ability, or arguably, how they are received by others. Jayce is extremely physically able and appears to be something of a generalist who is good at everything he touches. Viktor by contrast has a degenerative illness sapping his life away. He is also introverted and a specialist, more interested in deep-diving into science. He doesn't go outside his lane.

3 ) How the concept swaps: By the end of S2, however, Jayce and Viktor have swapped on who is the able-bodied one. Jayce has been horribly injured and is a ragged shadow of his once "Golden Boy" image, whereas Viktor becomes a beloved popular figure as the Commune Leader and healer of the undercity, he is fully able bodied and indeed enhanced by magic and science (we learn for the worst). This swap is central to Jayce and Viktor's themes of human imperfection being beautiful.

Pacific Rim: Newt x Hermann

1 ) What they have in common: Science (noticing a theme in the ships I like?). Both Newt and Hermann are obsessed with science and, on a more nuanced level, science as a way of saving the world.

2 ) Concept central to their story or themes in which they are opposites: their approach to science. Newt is chaotic and free-spirited, Hermann is methodical and buttoned up in a classic "Odd Couple" pairing.

3) But, by the end, they learn to overcome their differences and, indeed, by the second film they've even swapped places apparently on who is the chaotic one and who is the "buttoned up" one.

The Sandman: Dream x Hob

1 ) What they have in common: Immortality. They visit each other periodically every century in order to talk about Hob's life.

2 ) Concept central to their story or themes in which they are opposites: Approach to life and/or power. Dream is at least passively suicidal at the point he meets Hob whereas Hob wants to live forever. Also, Dream is extremely powerful as a god whereas Hob is just a human being, though he has moments where he has more or less power as a person. While these two never swap in their desire to live, the desire to live is central to their interplay with one another, which allows them to explore the deeper themes of the story of what does it mean to live forever, whether you want to or not.

Eh, I could go on but I'd be more interested to see how others apply this to their ships and to hear from others.

[nanenna]

“So,” Kon asked Tim the next day, “get anything on that star chart?”

“Not yet,” Tim said without looking up from his computer. “It was surprisingly thorough, so hopefully we'll get a hit soon. I'm worried he's from the other side of the galaxy or something, far enough away we don't have any local star charts.”

“That would make it hard,” Kon agreed with a sigh. “If that's the case, knowing a popular spec-fic show wouldn't help either.”

Tim shook his head. “Every bit of info you can get does help, just some more than others. But what I want to know is: what's this?” Tim looked up at Kon, pointing at where Danny had started writing.

“I think he was about to start labeling things, then suddenly gave up.”

Tim hummed as he squinted at the screen. “Well try to get his planet's name at least.”

“I think I can sneak that into a casual convo.” Kon knew exactly how he was going to sneak that in! It would be perfect!

☆☆☆

He watched another sunset with Danny, enjoying the wash of colors and the birds singing their goodnight before settling for the evening. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stop to watch a sunset before meeting Danny. It was nice to slow down and enjoy the scenery sometimes.

Once it was fully dark they laid out to stargaze again, Kon pointed out a few constellations and told Danny the stories behind them. “... and then of course that star there is Rao,” he said after talking about the constellation it was in.

“Rao?” Danny asked curiously, looking up at the star.

“Yup, it's the star my other home planet belonged to before it, you know… blew up.”

Danny turned his misty head to look at Kon incredulously. “Your other home planet?”

“Yeah, I was born here but,” Kon tried not to cringe, what he was about to say would feel really weird, “one of my parents is from there, from Krypton.”

“Oh, that's cool.” Danny smiled at Kon before turning his gaze back up. Kon expected him to be full of questions about Krypton blowing up, but it seemed Danny wasn't about to.

“I've never been to Krypton, it blew up before I was born.”

“That really sucks.”

Kon shrugged, he can't miss what he never knew. “What about your home planet? What's it called?”

Danny looked over and smirked. “Dirt.”

Kon sputtered, “Dirt?!”

Danny laughed and shifted to his side, half propped up to look over at Kon. “Read it in a sci-fi magazine once, since most people will name their home planet long before figuring planets out, usually it's just an old name for dirt.”

“What?” Kon was confused.

“What planet are we on now?”

“Earth.”

Danny laughed, “Exactly!”

“What? How does that,” Kon stopped. Earth was an old fashioned or poetic way of saying soil. Or as Danny put it: dirt. “Does Krypton mean dirt in Kryptonian?”

“I dunno, dude. You tell me.”

Kon huffed and let out a laugh. “Dirt!”

“Dirt,” Danny agreed as he lay back down.

☆☆☆

“Planet name's a bust, he said it just means dirt.”

“Most planet names do,” Tim said with a tired sigh.

“Is Krypton just dirt in old Kryptonian or something?”

“The most common element the mantle’s made of, actually. It'd be like if we renamed Earth to Iron. And then all that iron exploded and turned into radioactive ironite while hurtling through space.”

“I don't know how to feel about that. Hey! Wait, how do you know all that?”

Tim just gave Kon a Look™. “See if you can get a planetary system map.”

“You think that'll help?”

“I think it'll either confirm or deny a theory.”

☆☆☆

“Sunsets are nice and all, but I miss sunrises,” Danny commented as they watched yet another sunset.

Kon perked, “I can help with that. Probably.”

“Huh?”

Kon stepped closer, “If I can hold you I can take you to the sunrise.” Danny was only half there most of the time, Kon hadn't even attempted touching him aside from handing over the tablet.

Danny shrugged and stepped closer, allowing himself to be picked up. It was an odd sensation, like holding mist without the wet feeling but just as cold. A little more solid than mist, Danny still barely weighed anything though, truly not there in body at all.

“Okay, hold on tight.”

Danny did indeed hold on tight as Kon took off, heading directly for the sun. It was almost like watching time go backwards as Kon zoomed to the otherside of the planet, going from sunset to noon to early morning until they passed the sunrise altogether. In the gloom of early morning, when the eastern sky was only just starting to lighten, Kon looked around until he found a good spot.

Clear skies, out in the country, just the two of them and a fence to sit on as they watched the sky turn pink.

Danny ended up basking in the morning light once the sun was fully up. He looked peaceful, eyes closed and face turned heavenward.

Kon may have just made a problem for himself. How does he bring up planets if they aren't stargazing? Or worse, what if Danny starts showing up here instead of the farm?

Fuck it.

“Will you draw your planetary system for me?”

“Huh?”

“I'm just really curious, I think it'd be pretty cool to learn more about an alien planet and-”

Danny laughed, “No, it's okay, I get it. That was just outta left field is all. I wanna know about Rao's planetary system too.”

“Yeah, I think we can arrange that.” Kon pulled out his tablet, opened up the art program again, and told Danny to have at it. He started with a big yellow dot off to one side.

“Oh, a yellow star?”

“Yeah, it looks white from the ground but it's yellow. This won't be to scale, by the way.”

“Of course,” Kon agreed. Cosmic distances could be wild.

Danny went about putting smaller dots in a row away from his star, each one a different color. First was a dark red-brown, then yellow-orange, soft blue, bright red, a bunch of little brown dots, a big yellow-ish dot with a small red dot on the lower right… another big yellow-ish dot with white rings around it…

Kon frowned as a very familiar planetary system took shape. Two more big blue dots, then a final little white dot. That was quite the coincidence. Then Danny switched to a thin green tool and started writing in the same looping script he had before.

That didn’t say “The Sun” did it?

Kon frowned harder as no, despite how loopy and curly the letters were those looked like English letters spelling out the names of the planets in the system they were in right now.

Danny glanced up at Kon and smirked as he wrote “Dirt” under the little blue dot.

“What? But… but that’s where we are now.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda obvious you didn’t really put me on an alien planet. Not sure why you didn’t fix the sky, I gave you that star chart and everything. But it’s kinda fun listening to you make shit up though, so I don’t mind.”

“What? Danny? What are you talking about? Fix the sky?”

“It’s okay, Nocturn, I figured it out when you changed it to a sunrise. I thought this was just an NPC you put here to keep me company, I appreciate you spending so much time with me though.”

“Danny, who’s Nocturn?”

Danny glanced up at Kon with one of his soft smiles. No, not soft, indulgent. “Sure, okay, guess we’re still playing. Nocturn’s the ancient of dreams.” Danny looked back down, finishing giving names to all the planets.

Kon thought it was strange that the asteroid belt was called that but for some reason the Kuiper belt was labeled as just Pluto.

No, focus. What did it mean that Danny was from Earth but the stars were wrong? The stars wouldn’t have changed that much in even 100 years, so he can’t be from the distant past or anything. Hell, Orion was mapped out in antiquity. So Danny had to be from another Earth. An alternate timeline.

Fuuuuuuuck, this is what Tim needed confirmation of, isn’t it? Other planets they could handle, but other universes? They were definitely going to need to get help for this.

Danny handed the tablet over when he was done labeling everything. Kon saved it and sent it off to Tim, then pulled up planetary charts for Krypton, Tamaran, Rann, Thanagar, Ungara, and any other systems he could find. He handed the tablet over to Danny, who immediately began eagerly looking over them.

☆☆☆

“Kon.”

“I know, Tim. I figured it out.”

“I hate to bring in others too, but interdimensional travel isn’t exactly something we can do ourselves.”

Kon sighed, he was really hoping this would be one mission they didn’t have to involve others in. It was supposed to be a way for the Just Us team to get back together, it’d been a while since they could all hang out. “I know, but it doesn’t stop me from being disappointed.”

“Right, I guess the first thing we need is to contact JL about this so we can find a way to hunt down his home dimension.”

“Probably a JLD thing, since he’s astral projecting and all.”

Tim nodded, “Probably.”

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[violasghost]

Adding to the discussion about why the Chenford breakup has apparently been swept under the rug (for now), Rookie episode 7x02 discussion.

Have been reading some thoughts recently about how some think the reason Tim and Lucy are so amicable post breakup is because they are over one another, or the writers have decided to gloss over everything and ignore their chemistry and just let them stay friends instead, or simply cheapen their relationship. But I think this is where we as the fans have to pay closer attention to the actors who are showing us just as much if not more in the moments when they are not saying anything to one another, versus the moments when there is dialogue. The banter, the competition, that is where they are comfortable, but its also when they fall back in to old habits. Despite Lucy's character being pro-therapy, neither she nor Tim have ever been good at expressing their own emotions and when they were together they stumbled through most serious conversations about feelings. So that said, they likely didn't have that talk-yet.

From a personal perspective, I've had some awful coworkers over time (one or two that started out as friends) who I would have loved to poof away into oblivion, but because I like my job, I had to take the high road simply to be able to do my work well and play nice with peers, and the fact that sometimes you have to coexist with people that you don't always like or respect. So you do your job and work with those individuals when necessary, but nothing more. Not that I'm saying they cant stand one another, but more that they are simply...coping.

I think when it gets down to it, they are avoiding the BIG elephant in the room because its easier to just go with the flow for now. And they are afraid of going down that road because perhaps there may be some doubt, on Lucy's side about Tim's motivations for the breakup in the first place. And maybe on Tim's side about realizing how he hurt Lucy and worrying about how she might never forgive him. So the friendship thing is a safe crutch for both of them. They know at least this way they still have each other as a safety net. I still think its coming. The longing looks, the playful banter. Tim is trying every trick in his book to stay close to Lucy, and Lucy is taking his bait, hook, line, and sinker. And she's flirting with him too, whether she knows it or not. They just cant help themselves. Anyone who couldn't see it would likely have to be blind. Heck the whole first few minutes of the episode with the ladies in the locker room, Lopez, Harper, and Juarez tease Lucy about it so-yeah they know, and they are teasing/baiting our dear Lucy and the audience with this knowledge.

That last scene with the three TO's, Nolan, Tim, and Lucy hanging out after work for drinks and then Nolan confesses how he really respects Nyla and wants to send her more gifts of thanks and Lucy simply tosses her eyes and glances at Tim for a moment. You can see a twinkle in both their eyes and even Nolan recognizes in this moment that he's the third wheel, so he excuses himself, but Tim and Lucy don't yet want to admit that there is anything more, even though there is a long pause between them before either one speaks. I'm telling you, its about the moments 'in between.' Watch Eric and Melissa's faces. They always knock it out of the park.

Needless to say, looking forward to the long slow burn this season. I'm hoping for many more angsty, flirty, cute, hot, steamy, action-packed, sexy, and loving Chenford scenes in our future. <3

[sandyhorse333]

Clearing some things up about the following because some people cannot keep their mouths shut, AKA explanation post regarding being harassed online

TW r*pe

>"@/aaronzbiggestsuperfan" / if I use she/her, assume it's in referral to this person

There has been 'drama' with her that has revolved around me.

No, I'm not asking you to make posts about this or attack her, I am asking the opposite.

Please read this thoroughly.

These are screenshots from the original ordeal. Essentially, my boyfriend had blocked her and she sent me a dm asking why, so I responded (she had sent me an ask, I responded in DM's as not to make it public). Conversation continues as shown

>Sidenote, I made a joke mid-way through because I thought she was joking or trolling or something. I apologize for that

This was the last interaction we had directly. This was 2 months ago.

A little after this, however, they began making vague posts like "Should I expose people in the stuilly fandom?"

They ended up making a post which included me in it, and then followed it up with more posts, painting me as a villain or as if we had drama. We didn't. This is literally all that happened.

I was very overwhelmed and affected by this because I have been harassed online and cyber-stalked before but I did try my hardest to be mature. I had never insulted them at all nor have I accused them of things other than what I've written here. I believe all those posts I just detailed are still up on her page.

Now, this is where misconceptions come in.

No, I did not accuse her of sending me death threats, rape threats, and I didn't tell any friends or mutuals she did that. What had happened was, after she made those posts "exposing me" (within hours) I and my friends began to receive an influx of anonymous asks saying things about me. I never ended up saving any, though I have pictures of something similar, and those will be attached. I never accused aaronzbiggestsuperfan to have sent them, though in private, I speculated aloud on who it may be during vents, because it was really getting to me. I had to take multiple breaks from the internet. This is not her fault, and I don't think all of them were from here. I don't have any proof a single one was from her, therefore I ask you not to assume it is from her.

As of late, and as this topic has been coming back (keep in mind I haven't interacted with it nor brought it up publicly in 2 months), and I have received another wave of asks.

Here's an example, where I am getting a rape threat.

these are both from my mutual, @/seriousandclean. the first one is an ask he responded to, and the second is one he hadn't responded to, but screenshotted and sent to me per my request.

No, I never told anyone in private I thought these asks were from aaronzbiggestsuperfan. She had no way of knowing these traumatic events that had gone down in my life. This is not relevant to anyone on here, but I believe this is from someone I used to know online who I thought was my friend.

I am mentally in a very bad place right now due to all of this and have expressed it countless times in hopes it quiets a little bit of this but it has, unfortunately, not. There are now people in groups I'm in talking about it, and people asking my mutuals, and friends, and boyfriend about it, and it really goes on.

Something extra is she was apart of a discord server I was in. There wasn't nor isn't any drama pertaining to that which I'm involved in directly, but it is about me I believe? The deal is I left before anything was said, before she was kicked from the server, and before she was apparently accused of sending those asks I attached. This has all blown out of my control where I feel people are twisting my words whether it be in defense or offense of me and it is all being blamed on me. I don't know what happened in the discord beyond those bare details, nor do I have interest in figuring them out. I don't want responses, I don't want anything. I just want this to stop because it has come to a point where I and adults are receiving things detailing my sexual trauma. I'm 14. Those pictures of asks were just the only ones I saved. There are many others.

i'm not coming back, i'm only posting this in hopes it stops being as relevant in my life.

thanks for reading

[legacygirlingreen]

Say it louder for the people in the back.

Also Rant below the cut from your friendly, neighborhood autistic woman who's been diagnosed since the early 2000s because I DO get grumpy sometimes.

I swear to GOD that moment you realized you weren't actually someone's friend, but you were either their weird 'fixer upper' project or their mom had forced them to include the 'weird kid' was so much more damaging. Toss in being actually good in school and there was the occasional, 'be nice to the autistic girl to get homework help'. IDK. I always hated it. Took me way too many years to see through it.

Then there is that period you just... completely 180 into a strong 'I like being alone' phase which is equally as difficult to escape. Went completely nonverbal unless an adult was talking to me and got tossed into unwanted OT by my parents and guidance counselors. Wasn't that I didn't want to speak, or even I suddenly forgot how. I had nothing to say to people who at large misunderstood me or openly disrespected me.

But an experience I never see talked about in media: when you grow up you get all these awkward bump ins at holidays back in your hometown with people who thought they were being nice by being forced to include you. Always tossing a fake smile and pretending they were your best friend. And you just nod, say you are fine, hope they are too and try and make a quick exit. Try to ignore the way they act like you accomplished Olympic gold metal level success simply by being in a long and committed adult relationship when they knew you as the weird person with no friends/no one that was interested romantically. Suddenly its back to being talked down to with that unflattering infatuation that people get around neurodivergent/those on the autistic spectrum.

Autism in media isn't often reflected well in general, but certainly not with adults. Those markers of adulthood where autistic people learn things like... hey, this alcohol thing.. it makes me feel normal for the first time in my life and I REALLY like that. The very contested Big Bang Theory for its illusions with Sheldon being on the spectrum - since neurotypicals tend to see him and think 'yes that is what an autistic person looks like' - completely fail to see that Raj has so many tendencies (namely selective mutism/non verbal). And how does he combat that you may ask...

And I say all this as someone who's worked in the film industry. I have 2 degrees in this. I've worked on major projects both in cinematography and SFX for film and television. There are so many neurodivergent people in the industry and for that I am really grateful. It's given me a community of people who understand the 'quirks' that make the way we are wired very beautiful sometimes. But until you get neurodivergent people in writing rooms and in front of those executives telling the stories, it doesn't change much. Sure I've seen good representation moments. Some characters I truly adore either for having tendencies I see in myself or reacting in ways I aspire to. But it doesn't correct the at large misunderstanding that occurs in media around autistic people with its overarching tones of either talking down to with judgement/making them the butt of the joke OR that weird infatuation that occurs where you get turned into an 'ugly but cute' equivalent.

Anywho, there's my rant for today.

every piece of ""autistic representation"" in hollywood sucks not just because of the infantalization and inspiration porn but because movie executives always fail to realize the real universal autistic experience: spending your childhood slowly and unfalteringly realizing all of your friends not so secretly hated and/or merely tolerated you at best and you've missed every social signal about it ever

[neonbutchery]

URGENT FUNDRAISING REQUEST: HELP A YOUNG PALESTINIAN MAN EVACUATE

So to be honest I don't really know how to ask anymore. I've fundraised about five or six times, and most of them it has been really hard to get any traction, let alone donations. So with the request I'm about to make, which is very lofty, I don't have a lot of high hopes; but I will try, regardless.

These past few months I've been fundraising for Bashar, a young Palestinian man living in the Gaza strip, and his family. Both thanks to the support of other donors and out of my own contributions, he's been able to get basic necessities such as food and clothing amidst a man-made famine and genocide. Now, with the upcoming ceasefire and the opening of the Rafah crossing, Bashar is looking forward to register to evacuate to a safer place and continue his education abroad.

I hate having to remind people that Palestinians are human beings too in order to even get some attention on my posts, but I can't even begin to describe the pain and grief that Bashar has gone through and how despite it all he's remained hopeful and kind. He's thrilled at the prospect of finally being able to move to safety and continue his studies, and counting on all of us.

Since he already has some money saved up, we're looking forward to raise 1500€ to complete the full amount he needs to register for evacuation (5000€). This means that if 15 people donate 100€ each, or 150 people donate 10€ each, or 300 people donate 5€ each, the goal will be reached. You can donate to a Paypal fundraiser I already had running where I'll collect the money to send to him, or to my Ko-fi.

We're aiming to get the money AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, so every donation and share counts. Please spread this like wildfire with any of your support networks or anyone who might be able to contribute. I'm open to any questions about the fundraiser and its legitimacy, and will post updates whenever I'm able to.

Thank you so much in advance.