#kyumin

[bemybaebaebae]

Kyumin Moon

#kyumin moon

[taehyungnismo]

Send a 📸 to see 3-5 pictures that my muse has/has taken of your muse(s) (minghao & ryu)

1- Eu levo um soco na cara por causa dele e o que recebo em troca é ele rindo...

2- Cismou que a mão dele é maior que a minha e agora estou sendo obrigado a concordar.

3- Não namore homens peitudos, é um caminho sem volta!

4- Meu snap e não tem uma foto minha? Hell nah

5- Night date

6- É, eu levaria uns 30 socos na cara por você, Ryu

send a 📸 to see 3-5 pictures that my muse has/has taken of your muse(s)

#c:lei minghao #opp:ryu kyumin #answered

[lcvletter]

OPEN TO: @imvgincs

WHO: Ash [ Kyumin ] & Jinx [ Sooji ]

LOCATION: Jinx's apartment

The man doesn't bother to knock on the door before him. Sure, it's the polite thing to do, but Kyumin feels he's plenty courteous as he inputs the familiar code into the keypad, sparing the wooden surface from his touch. The satisfying beep signaling his entry fills him with a certain satisfaction as he strides into the unfamiliar home. It's dingy and dreary, but the sight of a familiar silhouette bathed in the blue glow of computer screens brings a grin to his face.

"WOW!" he exclaims loudly, intentionally aiming to both startle and entertain. Moving towards her, he wraps his arms around her from behind. "Do you ever leave your Lair of Doom and Gloom?" he quips, a booming laugh escaping him despite the lack of genuine humor. His gaze remains fixed on her, studying her reaction intently.

"You know," he adds, tapping his fingers lightly against her neck, purposefully leaving one finger out of their little dance against her skin, "I haven't seen you around the base in a while." His expression darkens into a frown. "I'm starting to think you don't like us anymore."

#words of deception || replies

[chcrryade]

CHERRYADE: TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE? Song Kyumin. Jul 1, 2021.

JAGUAR have emerged from their two-year period of almost complete radio silence with news that has shocked many—or perhaps a little less than many, because you can’t really expect to rise from the dead and still have millions of fans at your beck and call, ready to lap up any scraps you throw them. A new boy group is on the way, and their name is CHERRYADE. Something too sweet to drink all in one go, but too carbonated to sit on the tongue comfortably after just one sip. It seems rather on-brand for a company that has so far fed us one group that hated each other’s guts, one soloist who kicked the chair after one (1) album that tanked, and a duo who I’m still not sure were hate-fucking or making attempts on the other’s life every time the camera turned.

This time, though, they’re not unveiling their (sure-to-be devastatingly attractive) members one-by-one from wherever they’d been hiding them, as per the last three attempts. Neither are they shoving their undebuted faces in our faces with countless social media accounts or endlessly boring introduction videos. Instead, JAGUAR have made the decision to protect the idol-environment and reuse some of our past favourites, taking them from one unknown group to another. Aren’t we lucky.

This isn’t a new (or even particularly exciting) concept. You may recognise the formula from STRMRUNNER Media, who chose trainees from only the top companies to shove together in a now-superstar group named SO(U)L. JAGUAR CEO Ae Seungdae must have witnessed the success the seven have seen and decided he wanted a piece of the pie. They even share the same amount of members. But I doubt they’ll be greeting each other at any music shows or posting any cutesy selcas on Twitter, because some of the boys selected for this ‘supergroup’ of sorts aren’t known to be the nicest.

First, JAGUAR reached out to FNC and asked if they would miss SLOW MOTION’s leader KIL DOYEON terribly. The answer must’ve been no, as he’s rumoured to be the appointed leader of CHERRYADE also. Next on the list was METRONOME MEDIA’s DUAN JIEYANG (more commonly known as DJ) and JEON HAEIL from almost-forgotten group ALGORHYTHM, who had been in hot water previously for alleged physical fights breaking out between leader DAEHOON and youngest LEVI—who, funnily enough, left the group and ended up in SLOW MOTION not long after.

The higher-ups didn’t have to look too hard for the next couple of members, as they were right there in their pockets anyway. QIAO YIJUN and AHN JAEHEE (once an actor) from BONSOIR were next on the roster, and the general consensus on that was that it was certainly an.. interesting choice to make. They were the two that seemed to despise each other the most, after all. 

Next is one that may surprise some. HWAN MINHUI (or GOGO, as many know and love him as) was recruited from SM’s smallest sub-unit NCT DRIFT. Reactions were mixed, but the largest question of all was why. Alas, it doesn’t seem like JAGUAR is going to be holding a press conference anytime soon to answer that burning inquiry. There’s far too much on their plates for that, what with trying to get all these complete strangers to act civil with each other and all.

The last member of CHERRYADE is the only new face that we’re receiving. Not much is known about him except his name, LEE HASUN, and that he’s the youngest of the lot. Let’s hope he doesn’t receive the same treatment as JAEHEE did, because otherwise this ‘supergroup’ might last even less time than all of JAGUAR’s other ventures combined. And we wouldn’t want that, of course. Or would we?

Whatever the public may think of them, the one thing that is certain is that JAGUAR won’t care. Their age old motto of ‘any press is good press’ has lasted them far too long for them to be doing anything like reassessing their values or realigning their morals. Hell, some have even been saying that accused nepo baby BONSOIR manager HONG JAEYOUNG has found his new place as CHERRYADE’s handler, so from that alone it doesn’t sound like they’re going to be off to a spectacularly great start public-opinion wise.

The group are making their debut on August 1st, 2021—a mere month from now. What they’re releasing is still a mystery (a single? An EP? A mini-album? I’m as clueless as you are), but what we do know is that it’s going to be called DOUBLE DIP. I can vaguely glean the concept they’re going for from the name alone. Teeth-rotting, sugary goodness. The type of stuff that makes your mouth feel heady and vision swim. Or your ears bleed, depending on your opinion on the type of music that JAGUAR has put out thus far. Their styling seems to be heading in the same direction, as the explosion of colour that makes up their seconds-long teaser video is reminiscent of a handful of candy scooped up into the hands of an eager child.

CHERRYADE marks JAGUAR’s fourth attempt at an idol presence. Most of the hard work has been done for them, what with them lifting most of the members from other groups, but that in no way means they won’t meet the same failed fate as all of their predecessors. I feel that most deciding to follow the group will be doing so more out of morbid curiosity rather than genuine excitement for the content they’ll produce, and music they’ll put out. Right now they seem more like a ticking time bomb set to explode in an array of violently bright colours and burnt sugar than a group of boys that’ll be loved by the masses.

But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe CHERRYADE will be the success JAGUAR has so sorely been wanting, and for more reasons than how many times they’ve been caught smoking or leaving shady love hotels in the earliest hours of the morning. Maybe the seven will actually grow to like each other, and they’ll replace the previous reputation they held—of catty and spiteful boys who were there for the money and to make the lives of people they didn’t like as unpleasant as possible—with one that paints them as genuine, likeable people. We’ll just have to wait and see.

DOUBLE DIP. Whatever it turns out to be, it’s dropping August 1st, 2021, at 2PM KST. Do make sure to tune in, if you want to see what all the fuss is about.

Or don’t. I suppose I wouldn’t blame you.

got thoughts? ⠀ mentioned @syoul

#⠀✸ ⠀˚⠀⠀너도 이미 STAR⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀development. #fake kpop oc #fake kpop group #fake kpop bg #fictional kpop group #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #kpop male oc #male oc #idol oc

[btsqualityy]

I’m ready for some Pluse and Brooklyn interactions. Can Brooklyn and the boys go on tour with them and Brooklyn have a pregnancy scare! I just need our Brookie cookie to go off! Thanks girl!

"So, I have something to tell you," Kyumin began and Daesung looked over at him. "But you can't panic because Brook's already panicking."

"Brook's panicking?" Daesung repeated. "What's going on?"

"She thinks she might be pregnant again," Kyumin revealed, making Daesung raise his eyebrows.

"And why did you know this before me?"

"Because she doesn't know how to tell you," Kyumin explained. "She feels like the timing is absolutely terrible, because we're on tour and she doesn't want to upset you."

"Has she taken a test yet?"

"Nope, too scared."

"Fuck," Daesung sighed. "I'll go talk to her."

"Good," Kyumin nodded and Daesung had started to walk away before he stopped and turned around.

"Hyung? Are you not gonna chew me out for being irresponsible and potentially getting my girlfriend pregnant again?" He wondered.

"You should know hung better than that," Kyumin tsked. "I'm on your side so whatever you want, I'll support it. That goes for me respecting you as my dongsang and also as my leader."

"Thank you, hyung," Daesung smiled before he went off to find his girlfriend. He went backstage to where the dressing rooms were located, finding the door with Pulse's name on it and walking inside. He immediately saw Brooklyn sitting on the couch, running her hand over a sleeping Jinhae's head.

"Hey," Brooklyn whispered at seeing him. "I finally got him down for a nap."

"I see," Daesung smiled, gently sitting down on the couch. "All the traveling has his sleep schedule fucked."

"Tell me about it," she huffed.

"Can I talk to you?" Daesung asked suddenly.

"Sure, about what?"

"Kyumin hyung told me that you think you might be pregnant."

"I fucking told him not to say anything," she snapped.

"So you just weren't gonna tell me?"

"There may not be anything to tell," Brooklyn shot back. "Besides, you have enough going on as it is. You don't need yet another thing added to that list."

"Hey, don't do that," he scolded her lightly. "You're not alone in this so you don't have to hide things like that from me. So what if there's a lot going on right now? If you are pregnant, we created them together so we'll handle it together. Ok?"

"Ok," she nodded. "I'm sorry, for telling Kyumin oppa before I told you."

"I get it, because you were scared," Daesung shrugged. "But don't hesitate to share that fear with me."

"I won't," Brooklyn shook her head. "I love you."

"I love you more, Ji."

#Drabble day 3 #btsqualityy drabbles 2

[sadaveniren]

Wow what a throwback to see the DBSK video on my dash!! I wasn't there for their debut but I was a fan all through high school, even had the mirotic CD and DVD tour that I sold a while ago. I wouldn't call myself a Kpop fan though as I've never listenned to or followed any Kpop group aside from them. Jaejoong was my fav so I followed Jyj for a while, jae's carreer in dramas and had his first solo album before life got busy and then I moved on to other fandoms. I remember seeing and downloading so many videos from them back then from live performances and concerts to TV appearances and those few cringe dramas in their early days that included fangirls screams haha. I also remember about yunjae but wasn't that invested as I didn't have tumblr or any social media then just youtube and forums for dl links. Anyway it's 5am and I can't sleep even though my alarm will only ring in two hours but your post brought me a smile and a wave of nostalgia so thank you!!

HELLO!!! Don’t worry this didn’t get eaten I’ve just been savoring this message so much. Yunjae was the first pairing to get me into RPF (and obviously I also shipped Junsu/Yoochun - I forget their ship name)

God nothing did shipping like Gen 2 kpop. They had WHOLE DRAMAS dedicated to the shipping 😭

And DBSK wasn’t even the TOP CULPRIT. The Suju shipping dramas were ICONIC I always watch the Kyumin one when I visit one of my friends because like! The intrigue! The mystery! MURDERER KYUHYUN

No one knows what we HAD back in 2005-2009 🥲

#obviously the best kpop variety show of all time was explorers of the human body #watching 13 men get tortured eating ghost peppers cannot be beat

[thebandcampdiaries]

Ian Chung presents: "Time for Christmas (Acoustic Session)”

The perfect holiday vibe for acoustic music lovers!

December 2023 - Ian Chung is back with a warm holiday release aptly titled "Time for Christmas (Acoustic Session)". The artist’s music is incredibly dynamic, and it sets the bar higher in terms of production and creativity. 

"Time for Christmas (Acoustic Session)" hits the mark, and it feels like a bold statement from Ian.

To add to that, Kyumin Jeong, the lead vocalist who performed on the track, is a gifted singer who really helped this song come to life with his amazing performance along with Ukjin Chung! What makes this new work so special is actually the fact that the song has a lot of human qualities in terms of its warmth and the organic feel of the performance. Still, "Time for Christmas (Acoustic Session)" is very crisp, showcasing a modern sound that fits the artist’s stylistic coordinates to absolute perfection. People who like music with a one-of-a-kind creative twist will certainly be able to appreciate Ian’s penchant for spontaneity and for keeping the music fresh, yet “less is more” at each step of the creative process. If you’re looking for a festive, warm acoustic release, this one is a highly recommended addition to any holiday playlist out there on streaming services! Check this out if you enjoy artists like Damien Rice, Francis Moon, Hallow Coves, SYML, Novo Amor, among others.

Find out more about Ian Chung, and check out "Time for Christmas (Acoustic Session)." This release is now available on Spotify, Apple Music, and elsewhere. You can also connect with the artist via Youtube

#christmas music #holiday music #acoustic christmas

[marblesarelost]

Odds and ends - Mikaren

   (This is a piece that's set in my world, but it's...it's supposed to be in Kyumin, but I'm not sure that's where it'll actually be. It might be somewhere else. Needs polish, a plot would be nice, and needs caught up to what I have of the world now.)           

  The sleet was thick, not quite ice, nor quite snow, and the streets of Kyumin were deserted, at least they were in this part of the city.  The cobbles were uneven here, and plenty were missing, leaving muddy, slick holes in the street as she made her way down it, her ghra-skin cloak shedding most of the weather.  Most.  Not all.

                The noise from The Heart’s Bite could be heard from several doors down in either direction, and she paused under the overhang of Melk’s Pawn Shoppe, breathing slowly and deeply, closing her eyes as she envisioned her goal, and said one final prayer to Selin, the War Twins; guide my hands.  Let me die on my feet.  But let me see him fall first.

                She came through the door with naked steel in both hands, though she used the pommel of her gladius to knock between the bouncer’s eyes rather than kill him, rolling through the motion and throwing the knife in her off hand to catch the other bouncer, the one by the fire, off guard and now scrabbling for the blade in his throat.  She jumped, flatfooted, to the top of the bar and then behind it, her glare more than enough to have the bartender raise his hands at the point of her blade to his throat.  “Where is he?”  She growled.  “Where is Ophel?”

                “In.  In the back.”

                “Someone go tell him that his past has caught up to him,” she snapped.  “Do it.”  She pulled back the cloak to show the starburst bomb she wore on her belt, its glow an eldritch red in the dim light.  “Stay back from me, else I’ll set it off.”  It had cost her, oh, how it had cost her, three years in service to Alphien, the Feyrie Mage; but he had kept his word.  “I don’t mind dying today, kiefblood, go get him!”  She shouted, keeping her back to the wall, her face half turned to the half-kief at the point of her blade, half to the dregs of humanity and the kiefkin beyond the bar, watching for sudden moves.  One against twelve.  She’d seen worse odds.  She’d seen better, too.  “It’s set to a word, all I needs do is say a single word, and we all go up!  I don’t want to take all of you with me, but I damn well will!”  One finally broke, finally, running for the doorway on the far side of the room.  Heavy footsteps, grunting, snorting from beyond that doorway, before he broke the plane and came into her sight.  His tusks, like himself, were filthy, but stone sharpened, she knew.  “Illytch,” he grunted, his bulk filling the doorway, he had to bend his head to come through it.  “What want?”

                “You dead,” she snapped, and he snorted.

                “You not first to try,” he shrugged.  “Ophel lives.”

                “Tonight that changes,” she said with a grim smile.  “You and I, Ophel, one on one, right here, right now.  Your men interfere, we all go up.”

                “How I know you don’t set it off if you lose?”  He asked, and she shrugged.

                “You don’t.  But it’s a starburst, Ophel.  Starbursts are set to the beat of their bearer’s heart.  My heart stops, the star goes out.”

                He snorted again, shook his shaggy head, vermin flying from his hair, she could see it.  Hell, she could smell it, even ten feet away.  “What I do to you, killer?  Your face is strange to me.”

                “It wasn’t me, Ophel.  It was my brother.  You killed my brother.”  She let her cloak fall from her back, glanced at the bartender.  “Don’t you dare interfere,” she hissed, and his hands rose a little higher.  Ophel grunted, then gave his men an order.

                “Don’t touch her.  She’s kin-mad.  I’ll kill her, and then we’ll cut her hands off, so the Twins won’t take her.”

                “If you can kill me, then I don’t deserve to stand before them,” she replied, sliding her best dagger from its sheath and coming out from around the bar, instantly dropping into spider stance, feet wide, knees bent, ass back, steel high.  She expected him to rush her, and she wasn’t disappointed; almost as soon as she cleared the bar, he came at her, big fists swinging.  She ducked the punch, whirled behind him, and slashed at his hamstring; she missed it, but her dagger bit deep into his thigh, anyway, as she danced away, changing from spider to fox stance, one foot in the air, knee bent, sword wide, dagger close.  He turned, his flat nostrils flaring as he reached down to the wound, sneered at her as he licked his hand. 

                Now he drew steel.  A long knife, not quite a short sword, and the battle was on in earnest.  He pressed his size and strength advantage, and he was indeed larger and stronger than she; but she had better discipline, better training, was quicker and more agile.  He would punch, and she would be already slipped away, or only caught a glancing blow rather than the strength of his fist.  He would slash, and she would parry, and slash herself with one of her own blades.  Long before it was over, he was breathing heavily, and though both were bleeding, her blades had left more marks.

                Finally, he charged, and she had had enough; she dropped to her knees and drove her sword straight up through his belly, like a pikeman downs a chevalier’s horse.  She twisted the blade as he rained blows down upon her head, making her ears ring; long years of training made instinct had her block his long blade with her dagger, even as she ripped up with her gladius, the stench of gutjuices filling the room as she did so.  That was a killing blow for most everyone, and she knew it, and so did he. 

He fell forward, but she rose up, pushing back his horribly heavy body with one hand, letting her legs do the work; he tottered, blinking, on his feet as she jerked her sword out of his belly, then fell forward again, on his knees.  “You ‘venged, stranger,” he muttered, both hands clutching his gut.  “You ‘venged.”

                “So I am,” she said, stepping backward and glancing over her shoulder.  The other kief were watching, most with mouths agape.  “Give you this, Ophel, you die well.”  She backed up another step, then turned and dashed from the inn, out into the sleet and cold, letting it wash over her.  The CryWatch wouldn’t be out in this, not in this neighborhood, so she left her steel out for a few blocks, easy loping down the streets until she reached the hire barn.  She took shelter under the hayroof for a quick moment, wiping the blood from her sword and dagger before sheathing them again, and walking on now rather than running, headed for the rooms she’d rented a few weeks before.

                There, she sank onto the cot and let herself shake, with cold and with adrenaline crashing out of her veins.  “You’re ‘venged, Deacon,” she muttered to herself.  “You’re ‘venged.”  Reaching under the cot, she found the jar of Dalvish wine she’d carried for oh so long, and cracked the seal.  A long moment she sat there, thinking of Deacon, of his laughter and his anger, of his blade flashing in the sun beside her own.  She lifted the jar.  “Rest well now, brother.”  She drank deeply, not letting even a drop of the sweet crimson-purple wine fall; it was too good and too dear to waste, and Deacon would have had her head if she’d poured any out for his shade.  Besides, she had had other jars of wine, none so dear, that she’d used for that.

                When the wine was gone, she was a bit light-headed, but that was all.  She laid across the cot, her back propped up by the wall.  She’d killed Ophel.  It had taken her years, but she’d done it.  The question truly was, now what?  What did she do now that she had no purpose?

                She had no answers when she woke the next morning, either, and it was the wrong season to hire out to guard trade caravans; no merchant in his right mind would be leaving Kyumin until after false spring, so the smartest thing for her to do would be to hunker down here until then.  She considered changing flops to somewhere a few steps higher class than Kiefhold; it was damnably close to a rookery, honestly, and she could afford it…she thought.  In the end, she decided to stay where she was.  She’d just not show her face more than necessary, not that that would be hard; the cold had come to stay, and most folk walked round with a scarf covering half their face right now.  She’d move to Shiller’s Quarter come false spring, and put her ear out for traders.

                So passed a few weeks, not quite to MidWinter, when one morning found her bored right out of her mind, and perhaps she fell asleep; she had been sleeping more often than not lately, as it kept her warm, anyway.  But a noise startled her, a noise out in the hall, and she came up from her seat by the window, dagger in hand as her sword was under her mattress.  Then someone tapped her door gently, once, twice.  She had to clear her throat before she could answer.

                “Who goes?”

                “Ah…” whoever it was whispered to others in Kief; she caught a few words, “lady,” and “speak,” and “flop,” but not much more before a male voice called out.

                “Would speak with you, lady of blades; speak only, word to the Twins and to the Night-Shod on it,” they called.  She frowned; the Night-Shod was the lord of thieves and assassins, but those who swore by him normally didn’t break their word outright.  She rose from her seat and took the few steps to the door, pulling the latch before backing toward the bed and slipping her hand between the corntick mattress and the ropes, pulling her gladius out from under it.

                “Come then, and so long as your blade stays sheathed, so then shall mine, by the Twins,” she agreed.  The door opened, and one of the largest godsdamned Kief ever she’d seen stood in it, blocking it up until he came into the room, looking round and moving out of the way so his friends could come in as well.  One more was full-blood Kief, with the flat nose and full tusks, but the third was half-blood at best, his tusks smaller, his nose more like to hers or a Feyrie’s, and his skin mayhap less greasy than the Kief.  None of the three wore steel on their belt, though any could have anything hidden up their sleeve or down their trousers, and besides, she knew full well how easy Kief could kill with their bare hands.  The big one and the half-blood looked to the one who’d come in second; he had pale yellow skin with gray undertones, whereas both of them were tinted more green than gray.

                “Lady of blades,” he said haltingly.  “Give you good afterbells.”

                “Good afterbells to you,” she said fairly.  “Shut the door, fella; let’s not let all the heat out, aye?”

                “Will if I can, lady,” the third said, shoving his friend over a bit as he did so.  “Sorry; is a small room for Kief and kin.”

                “It’s a small room for Mellon, too,” she said, a smirk running away from her face.  “But it’s what a simple sellsword can afford, fellas.”

                “Right.”  The yellow Kief’s tongue came out, wet his lips, and he seemed the most nervous of the three.  “Pardon I ask afore I come to the point; my Mellon ain’t that good, lady, an’ none of what I say means any offense.”

                “Would trade-tongue be easier?  ‘Cause I don’t speak Kief, fella, not well,” she offered, and he nodded fervently before speaking in trade-tongue.

                “Aye that, lady, that I’m right good in,” he agreed.  “May we sit?”

                “If you can find a spot, surely,” she agreed.  This was very, very strange; but maybe they had a job for a sellsword.  Again, this was damnably close to a rookery.  The three found spots to sort of perch, the yellow one taking the only chair in the room and pulling it closer to the bed.

                “Lady of blades,” he began, and looked down at his hands, clasped afore him, before catching her gaze again.  “Don’t know what you know of Kief an’ Kiefkin, Lady, nor our customs.”

                “Not much, to be honest.”  Her damn curiosity had her now.  “What is it, lad, don’t trip over your tongue.”

                “Na.  Lady, you are who killed Ophel in fair combat,” he said.  “That word’s spread throughout all of Ophel’s sworn-folks.”

                “Killed another who had naught to do with anything, and for that I’ll pay honor-price if I can, but I owe nobody nothing for Ophel,” she said.  “That was fair and true, he killed my brother, killed my brother for naught at all, just that he was praying alms in the wrong place.  I got that true from the Priest of the Twins in Macallen, when I collected his armor.”

                “Don’t know; don’t know aught on that, my word to the Twins an’ the Night-Shod, lady, I didn’t join Ophel’s sworn until well after he’d come here,” the yellow Kief said.  “But here lies the rub; according to Kief and Kiefkin custom, you defeated him square and true, fair combat, no tricks and no backstabbing.  That makes --“ he frowned, his bottom lip rising, his tusks quivering as he thought.  “That makes our swears to him go to you, lady, and that’s honest.  You’re our Chieftain now.  That’s not just -- not just Kief custom, lady, but Night-Shod as well.  So we come to collect you, lady, an’ take you someplace better than this; to hear your orders and obey them.”  He made some sort of signal, and slid from the chair to kneel before her as the other two did the same, all three of them looking up at her like she was some sort of Dacha or Pacha or Princess.  “Command us, Blade-Lady.”

                She blinked.  She couldn’t help it.  “Get up, get up,” she said roughly.  “I ain’t a queen, fellas.  Get up.”  Once they had, it was her turn to wet her lips as she tried to think.  “Chieftain?  Cause I killed a fella?”

                “It’s the custom,” the yellow Kief said, shrugging.  “Ain’t the first Mellon to do it, won’t be the last.”

                “And ain’t an ambush, then?  Nobody lying in wait to shove a dagger in my back?”

                “By the Twins, lady,” he nodded.  “You won.  You won fair.  No tricks, no slipperies, no blinding, all just steel and fist.  Makes you our chief.”

                “Night-Shod said so,” the half-Kief said, his voice high, thin and reedy.  “Night-Shod spoke to Vellash, Vellash Night-Shod Speaker.  Vellash say, go get the bladewoman, here where she be; she hide, hide good, but catch her before the caravans start running, else you’ll never catch her more.”

                She sat back, took a deep breath.  Well.  This changed things, din’t it?  “Where you call better than this?  Ain’t no leaks, ain’t no bugs.”

                “We cleaned up the Heart’s Bite,” the yellow Kief said.  “Cleaned it good, lady, with lye soap and hot water.  It’s warm, no leaks, we’ll get andelo candles to keep out bugs do you want it.  Got tribute, got men an’ women, many as all our fingers and toes together, come to swear to you.  Not all Kief or Kiefkin, some Mellon, a couple Feyrie-blooded.  Damn good Night-Shod folk, lady, but got no orders, yeah?  Need a chief to give us orders.  Need a chief to talk to the Dusk Guild, we ain’t in the Dusk Guild.  Ophel kept his nose away from them, had a bargain with’em just to work in KiefHold and Duster’s Corners, but ain’t no good, lady, ain’t hardly no money there.  Him, he was askeert of the Dusk Guild, askeert to try to bargain with’em any further.”

                “You think I ain’t?”  She asked, shaking her head.  “Only a fool crosses the Dusk Guild in any city, fella.”

                “Ain’t got to cross’em; just to make a deal.  We got damn good Night-Shod, lady, and more, we got good sellswords, sworn to the Twins and Night-Shod both.  Maybe not as good as you.  You’re grand.  But good ‘nough to hire out to Merc Hall maybe, guard folk on the straight and on the crooked both.  Ain’t fair that we get smashed here into KiefHold and Duster’s Corners, when we could be sliding up into Shiller’s Quarters and maybe even higher.”

                She sat thinking for another moment before she heard Deacon’s soft chuckle in the back of her head.  You set them free, sister.  Set me free.  Now you got to take responsibility for what you freed.  She squared her shoulders, nodding once.  “What’s your names, fellas?”

                “I’m Levi,” the yellow one said.  “Filip is by the window, Irvil over there.”

                “Right.  You got wine at the Heart’s Bite, Levi?”  Fangs showed as the Kief smiled.

                “Got wine, lady; you like Andalusian Red?”

                “Now you’re talkin’ my language.  Lead on.”

                Once at the Heart’s Bite, they stopped just long enough at the bar proper for the bartender, same one she’d had her sword point to his throat, to pour a jug of Andalusian Red.  She frowned, seeing him, and spoke.  “My sorrow on that, fella,” she said, shaking her head.  “I meant no harm to none in here but Ophel.”

                “Hazard of business in KiefHold, lady,” he shrugged.  “Truth, you coulda come in an’ just set off that starburst an’ kilt us all.  As it was, you only kilt Ophel an’ Mek, an’ Mek wasn’t worth a damn noway.”

                “Still,” she pressed.  “Accept my apology, friend.”

                “Ah gods and demons, an honor bound,” he sighed, but bumped his fist to hers.  “You’re my Chief now; I accept your sorrow and grant your pardon, Lady.”

                “Good.”  She reached for her purse, and he frowned.

                “No call; you’re the boss.”

                “Boss or no, this time you’ll take the silver, friend.  For yourself.”  The jug of wine would cost three silver at any other inn in KiefHold; she laid out five.  “Call it pride price.”

                “As the Chieftain wishes,” he inclined his head and made the silver disappear, and she followed Levi past the doorway.  It was cleaner, certain sure, and the candles burning didn’t stink of rancid tallow.  She could smell fish and greens and fried beef from the kitchen as they passed by it, back to a thick oak door that was slightly, just slightly, ajar.  Levi opened it for her, and stepping inside she saw a worktable and chair, fresh parchment and an inkpot neatly to one side, along with graphstick, a lantern burning low to the other side.  A great bearskin hung in the middle of the room; it must have been scented with alav flower, for that was what she smelled as she brushed past it.  Beyond it was a good sized cot, with muslin sheets and woven blankets.  Four chests were stacked two by two at its foot, four keys laid out on the cot.

                “What’s this, then?”  She asked, pulling back the bearskin.

                “You inherit,” Levi told her, inclining his head.  “All that Ophel had, blade-lady, now stands as yours.”  Slowly, she nodded.

                “Bring those out here.  We’ll open them together.  Ah -- Irvil.  Turn the lamp up.”  The chests were heavy; she watched the cords come out on Levi’s neck as he hefted the first, though Filip didn’t have any problems with his.  “Two at a time, I guess.”  She gathered the keys, brought them out to try them; she lifted the first lid and had to blink, pulling back at the shine as gold and silver coins glittered up at her.  “Twins’ BLADES,” she muttered, dipping a hand in and running her fingers through the money.  “It’s real?”  She brought out a golden kroner, flicked the edge with her finger; the song of the enchanted coin hummed up at her.  “It’s real.”

                “Night-Shod blessed you,” Levi said, and she shook her head, though her eyes stayed fixed on the treasure.

                “Na.  Na, this -- this is too much for an old sellsword, gents.  Let’s see the rest, then we’ll decide what to do.”  The second chest held papers, papers that didn’t make much sense to her, to be fair.  Not until Levi explained.

                “Debts.  Folk put their hand to it, they’re bound to pay.  That’s likesome to be how he had the chest so full.”  The third chest held gems and jewelry, gold and silver and even copper set, pearls and cat’s eyes, firestone of all colors, moon’s milk and flame shell and only the Twins knew what else.  The fourth chest…the daggers and short swords, claws and wands, all reeking of magic or gem encrusted…

                “What would you, blade-lady?”  Filip asked, leaning against the door.

                “These,” she tapped the chest of weaponry, “these need a mage to look at them.  Make sure no evil magic taints them, to turn the blade on the bearer.  Can’t do much with them till then.”  She frowned at the cask of gems and jewelry.  “These need sold.  Gonna likely have to talk with the Dusk Guild, ‘cause I don’t know who else to sell’em to.  Pro’lly talk to Dusk Guild about hiring one of their mages to go through those, too.”  Now she turned her attention to the debts.  “These…these folk don’t owe me.  They owed Ophel, not me.  Gotta go through an’ get names, send out word.  But this,” she laid her hand on the chest of coin, “this we gotta count.  And then we’ll see what happens.”

                All told, by the time the money was counted, she was rich.  Rich beyond her wildest imaginings, rich enough to buy ten trained warhorses, to buy a house in at least Shiller’s Quarter and possibly higher.  But that wasn’t what she wanted; what would she do with a fine house?  A trained warhorse, well, that was a thought, one she would keep close.  But any more than that?  She didn’t know what to do with the hoard.

                You’re responsible, Deacon’s whisper came again, and she knew.  “Right then.  Get word out.  Everybody who’s to swear to me, get word out, get here, get here tonight if they can at all.  I’ve words to say.”

                The inn was full, plumb full, of men and women when she came out from the door, Filip before her with naked steel in his hand, Levi behind her.  She took the seat next to the fire, so’s they could see her face, as Levi spoke, first in Kief, then in trade tongue.

                “Here is the Blade-Lady, the one who defeated Ophel in true and fair combat.”  Almost as one, the group of folks made obeisance, some going to a knee, some tapping their heart, some drawing steel and turning the pommel to her, all of it depending on what room they had and likely who their gods were.  She surveyed them, looking to see if any were refusing her.  She rose from the seat and drew steel herself, turning the pommel to them with one hand, tapping her heart with the other.

                “Let me be your blade, let you be my people,” she said quietly.  “This is everyone?”

                “Aye, Blade-Lady,” Levi nodded beside her.  “This is all of us.”

                “Twin’s blades.”  There had to be forty, maybe fifty of them.  She sheathed her dagger and began to speak.  “Make yourselves comfortable, but not so comfortable you sleep.  I have ideas for you, and plans to make, and I’d have your thoughts on what I think; let us work together as Clan and make everyone have a full belly, yeah?”  Murmuring rose, but not of anger, but wonder, as they followed her orders and looked at her.

                “First, Levi says Ophel told Dusk Guild, hi now, we’ll stay over here, you leave us alone an’ we’ll leave you alone.  Which was fine for Ophel, I guess, ‘cause no fool deals with Dusk Guild wrong.  But I ain’t like to him.  Not at all.”  She nodded, and Levi gestured; Irvil came out with the chest of debts, open so everyone could see it.  “These are the notes of debt he kept; but not one of you nor any other owes me a damn copper.”  She took the chest and dumped its contents into the fire, the flame licking up and turning those chains of paper into red edged ash.  She stepped back, handing the chest back to Irvil.  “Them that need a loan come to me, we’ll do business, truth.  And you’ll pay interest, truth.  But right now, all debts to Ophel are clear.”

                “What of the street folk?”  Someone asked.  “What of them what owe us?  Or owed Ophel?”

                “Any and all debt to Ophel is canceled.  Debt to you is debt to you; I’ll ask a tithing, as your Chief, but nothing more.”  More murmuring, some smiles, some disbelief, and she went on.  “More, there’s the matter of the Dusk Guild.  We got to send word to them that Ophel ain’t in charge no more, and the one who is wants to renegotiate the terms.  I hear tell there’s Night-Shod and sellswords among you that are just as good as Dusk Guild, and it’s poor pickings you’ve had.  Gonna renegotiate that, talk us up to at least Shiller’s Quarter, gonna try for Merchant Row, but I doubt they give us that.   Gonna send word to Merc Hall, too, if any of you want to work merc.  Leave your name with Danik behind the bar if you do, or if you want to work bodyguard or security to mageries; I’ve some contacts there.”  She paused to take a drink of her wine, the sweet-sour taste filling her mouth.  “Questions so far?”

                The folks looked at one another, murmuring together for a few seconds, before one stood up, a big Kief, maybe as big as Filip.  “What do I owe you, Blade-Lady, if you can get me on the rolls at Merc Hall?”

                “First, I can’t promise you’ll get on the rolls; I’ve been Guild Merc, and I can tell you, you get it or not on your own merit,” she began.  “You’ll have to fight two to one, then fight in formation, then they’ll test how well you follow orders; that’s Merc Hall business, and I’ll go no further on it.  But I’ll tell you that if you get on the rolls, there’s things you can watch for for me.  You can watch to see who’s hiring where.  You can listen to rumor and truth about who’s at war with who.  And you bring that information to me, and maybe we’ll see what our Night-Shod can do with that information.”    She leaned back, picked up her cup again.  “They’ll ask, if you get on the rolls, who to send your things to, who to send your pay and your death-price to if you die in service.  If you got family, you give their names.  If you don’t, you give mine.  Wisa Coneth.  That’s what I’ll ask if you get on at Merc Hall.  That, and to remember your Clan here, and the poor of KiefHold.  Fair?”

                “More than, Mikaren.  More than.”  He nodded respectfully, and she looked up at Levi beside her.

                “What’s that?  Mikaren?”

                “Blade-lady.  In Kief.”

                “I like that,” she said lowly, and sat up again.  “Who’s next?”

                Now that they saw that she answered them fair, more stood, and she chose, one at a time, to hear and answer them.  Yes, she did plan on sending word to the Dusk Guild.  Far as she was concerned, Kyumin was an awful big city; Dusk Guild ought to be able to give them more than what they had now.  Yes, she did want to see them fight, but not here and now.  Restday was soon enough, and not to first blood, even, “cause why waste your kin’s blood?  Nah, wooden swords and staves only, just for spar, for me to see what you can do and where to send you.”  No, she didn’t have any ideas as to targets for Night-Shod work yet, but she was new to Kyumin; give her some little time.

                “And now we come to the good part,” she said, nodding at Filip.  He left the common room and came back a few minutes later, setting a chest down on the table beside her, and opened it, picking up a little purse and jingling it.  “Presents for my new folk.  Ophel had too much for my blood, and no one starves in my clan.  One for each, and the rest put back for hard times.”  A mixture of silver and coppers; no gold for several reasons, but each purse added up in weight to two Owls’ worth, more than most of these folk would have seen all at once in their lives.  Enough to handle rent and food for six months for one, or two for a family.  “I need time to learn Kyumin better.  Time to learn you all better,” she said in the stunned silence as folk opened the little purses and realized what she was doing.  “I take care of my own, but you’ve got to take care of each other, too.  Brothers and sisters and cousins in my clan, and nobody hungry in the Starving Time, nobody cold now.”  She waited for the reaction she was sure would come; somebody to accuse her of trying to buy them, somebody to throw her generosity in her face.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, the tall one who had asked about the Merc Guild stood, nostrils flaring, and raised his blade to her as they had in the swearing.  “Mikaren, Kama-tek.”

Levi beside her leaned in close.  “Blade-Lady, Clan-Mother,” he murmured.

She stood up and gestured as others, one by one, rose, saying the same words.  “Come here,” she invited, and he nodded, sliding his sword back into place and making his way carefully through the crowd to stand before her; he was as big as Filip, maybe broader in the shoulders.  “What’s your name, kinsman?”

“Acret,” he gave her, his bottom lip trembling just a hair, dark eyes gleaming, she thought with wet but wasn’t sure.

“Acret.”  She reached up, took him by the shoulders and pulled him down to her, kissing his forehead.  “Welcome to my clan.”  When he stood again, she reached up one finger to wipe the tear from his tusk, saw his eyes; she had him. 

#original work #original writing #1/31/23

[kmlove137]

Super Junior through the years. Happy 15th Anniversary Super Junior

#super junior #suju #kangteuk #hanchul #yewook #eunhae #kyumin #sibum #leeteuk #kim heechul #heechul #hangeng #kangin #yesung #shindong #lee sungmin #sungmin #lee hyukjae #eunhyuk #choi siwon #siwon #lee donghae #donghae #kim ryeowook #ryeowook #kim kibum #cho kyuhyun #kyuhyun

[authcenter]

parme said they wanted to hear about it so here goes

minarchist's ideology is libright and theres a stereotype that since defending ur property is important, a lot of them enjoy guns and stuff. since homo posadism is just posadism (nuclear annihilation is the best way to destroy capitalism) he also likes to destroy things. they are both so happy go lucky its kind of funny to see them bond over weaponry <3

#min got hope a bouquet of knives during a fancy dinner date and he was like 'omg <3 theyre amazing' #they r just like that #gushposting #kyumin

[jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets]

Going through some old fics and I was thinking, hmmmm..... Should I post my old Kpop fics 🤷‍♀️🙈

I dunno, what do y'all think???

#banglo #bap #b.a.p #rickjoe #teen top #nap #day6 #i think i also have #kyuwook #kyumin #super junior #suju #oh god what else #jren #nu'est #probably more #Kpop #oh! #kookiemonster #bts #bts fic

[theminkyu]

♥♥ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♥♥

#daydream #dreaming #sungmin #kyuhyun #superjunior #kyumin

[asyaswallow]

Another sketch in the piggy Bank💖❤️

#kyuhyun #kyumin #suju kyuhyun #cho kyuhyun #kyuranger #kyuhyuk #super junior the crown #super junior m #super junior #maknae #kpop art #kpop #kpop edits #kpop fanart #fanart #korean #new artwork #artist support #radar online #tumblr radar #radar #illustrationdigital #illustration on tumblr #paypal commisions #commisionwork #sketch portrait #sketch

[btsqualityy]

I’m trying to share the love! So Isla meeting Junghyun officially meeting and they end up later on pulling a Min/Yoongi ‘entanglement’. Isla give me big mama Min vibes besides Brooklyn!

Warnings: smut, public sex, creampie

"You sure it's ok if I tag along to the rehearsal?" Isla asked as Brooklyn guided her out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor in the JWA building.

"Of course," Brooklyn smiled. "Besides, I get bored waiting for Daesung by myself because he gets so absorbed into work so it'd be nice to have company."

"Whatever," Isla chuckled as they made it to the rehearsal room, Brooklyn pushing open the door before they stepped inside. The Pulse members were in the midst of dancing but when Daesung saw Brooklyn, he instantly went over to the sound system and cut the song off.

"Hey!" Hojin exclaimed, watching with a glare as Daesung made a beeline for his girlfriend.

"Hi Ji," he smiled, leaning forward and kissing Brooklyn firmly.

"Mmm, hi," she replied. "How's rehearsal?"

"Much better until you interrupted us," Kyumin joked as he walked over to them, giving Brooklyn a quick hug.

"Not my fault that my man loves me," she joked.

"Who's your friend Brooklyn?" Jaewon wondered, giving Isla a flirty smile.

"This is my best friend Isla," she introduced them. "Isla, this is Jaewon, Kyumin, Hojin, and Junghyun."

"Nice to meet you gorgeous," Hojin smiled.

"The pleasure is certainly all ours," Jaewon smirked.

"Well, you see who the hoes of the group are," Daesung chuckled.

"Hey!" Both of them shouted in protest.

"I assume we're taking a break since Brooklyn's here?" Kyumin wondered.

"You know it," Brooklyn smiled.

"So much for you being soooo bored," Isla muttered with a roll of her eyes. As everyone dispersed to do their own thing, Junghyun stepped up to Isla, smiling shyly.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey."

"I didn't know Brook had a best friend," Junghyun murmured. "When she's with Daesung, she doesn't say much because they're too busy making goo goo eyes at each other."

"Ugh, tell me about it," Isla laughed. "Feels like I've lost my best friend to some dick and then a baby."

"Same here," Junghyun agreed. "So, how old are you?"

"Same age as Brook, 19."

"I'm 20."

"So you're my oppa then?" Isla smiled and Junghyun nodded his head.

"Maybe we can get to know each other better then," he offered. "Since our best friends are together and they share a baby."

"Maybe," she smiled softly. "Maybe."

.........................................................................................

"Fuck baby, just like that," Isla whimpered, her hands scrambling for purchase as Junghyun thrusted into her roughly. They were tucked together in a bathroom stall in the JWA building, Isla's legs wrapped around Junghyun's waist as he fucked her.

It had been a month since their first meeting and three weeks since they had sex for the first time and though Isla hated to admit it, she was falling fast. Junghyun was sweet, caring, sensitive, and so damn attentive. She had never dated a man like him and even though it hadn't been long, she definitely felt like she could spend a long time with him.

"You're so fucking tight around me baby, fuck," Junghyun groaned as he pushed his face into her neck. "You're gonna make me come."

"Want you to come inside me," she purred into his ear. "Come inside of my pussy baby."

"God...damn it!" He literally growled, one of his hands moving away from where it had been stationed on her hip and slamming against the stall as he came inside of her. Isla came as well, her nails digging into his back as they rode out their highs together.

"Holy fuck," she giggled once they had recovered, unwrapping her legs from his waist and setting herself back onto the ground. "The sex is as good as always."

"I'm glad you think so baby," he chuckled, buttoning his pants back up as Isla fixed her skirt. "You know, I think we should make this a little more official."

"What do you mean?"

"Isla, I really like you," Junghyun stated seriously. "I want to be with you."

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend in a stall in the men's room, with your cum coming out of me?" Isla wondered with a smile.

"I guess I am," he chuckled.

"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend," Isla nodded.

"Good," Junghyun grinned, leaning down and kissing her firmly.

#btsqualityy drabbles #drabble day 2 #adult isla

[teuk-ie]

kyumin is rly cute ship but i wish the shippers weren’t constantly making themselves a bad reputation with theories and analysis that they are together. especially now... can you please accept sungmi is married ? it’s been so so long... i don’t even think kyumin good friends anymore because of shippers :(

#super junior #suju #sj #sungmin #kyuhyun #kyumin #shipping #kpop shipping