#I do really like the idea of an interest tracker

[twstfanblog]

So, thinking about how you said to the Twilight anon that Vil would want to read the books to understand Bella's thought processes better, Yuu would have to explain the influence of Stephanie Meyer's religion on the themes of the books and also how it influences the thought processes of different characters (Edward's whole reluctance to turn Bella because he didn't want to "damn her soul", or the facts that Carlisle was the son of a clergyman who got turned and is now a doctor because he believes it's his only way to repent for "becoming a monster", for some examples.) I also feel like Yuu would have to explain organized religion in broad terms, simply because I'm not sure if Twisted Wonderland has organized religion??? (I haven't really seen anything that states for certain that there are organized religions in TW anyway.) Sorry for rambling in your askbox, I just read that and these were some of the first thoughts I had once I read that Vil would want to read the Twilight series lol. Also, I feel like Rook would be intrigued by that one vampire in the first movie whose whole power is that he is a peak hunter/tracker. You know, the one that bites Bella in her old ballet studio and that the Cullens murder which basically causes the rest of the series to happen? I don't remember his name right now, so I hope you know which one I'm thinking of, lol. I feel like Rook would find him interesting until he realizes that he's basically cheating during a hunt, for lack of better words. Anyhow, I wrote all this to say that I love your work and I'm sorry for the long-ass message in your asks lol.

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR LONG ASKS!!! I love talking to you guys and the long asks gives me plenty to chew on and they make me happy!!!

I have it mostly planned for my main story fic, but Yuu does tell mainly Ace and Deuce about various religions from their home world. Yuu is a half practicing worshipper of Li Nezha, so one of the first things she did to make Ramshakle feel more like home is put up an altar to him. Religion isn't something Yuu would focus most on, but she'd give context when she can if anyone ever asked.

Vil would have even more questions because honestly, yes, the AUTHOR is a Mormon, but is Bella? Does Bella even have a religious standpoint? How is it we're with this main character for four books and he has almost no deeper idea about her as a person past 'Love Edward (and Jacob sometimes when the plot demands it)' and that she's clumsy and just REALLY wants to get fucked by said man.

I'm on the fence about Rook liking James. if only because we just get TOLD he's the best tracker/hunter but nothing really...shows that he is? The only thing we really see is that he realizes the other Cullens are wearing Bella's clothes which makes sense because there were three of them running around in her clothes at mach speed. From there it's just following the SINGLE TRAIL leading out of town and it was easy as fuck to find her. If anything the most impressive thing he does is track down Bella's old home address in Phoniex, break-in, and steal old home videos to lure Bella to the dance studio. Basically finding a personalized bird whistle to lure her in.

(Rook: Impressive, but I can also do the same thing.

Vil:

Yuu: That's only mildly concerning that you said that with such confidence...)

Vil is just...TIRED when Bella goes to the dance studio saying NOTHING to Alice and Jasper and how they don't...notice??? Vil scrolling on his phone reading through the book 'Why the FUCK is she going???'

I...love Twilight...but I look at it and just...'Why are we doing this??? Bella look me in the eyes and tell me why this was your first choice of action...' I could lovingly beat Twilight with a shovel all day long.

[sunthieving]

I did a thing... and made an interest tracker. if anyone is interested and it will be added into my pinned post.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 17k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D

[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ JUMP TO PART TWO ]

i. ASK ME THE TRUTH AND I’LL TELL YOU A LIE

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police receives a call from you, saying your father hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector — whose name you did not bother remembering — before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what exactly happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that were the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

all you can do is sigh. “i was his daughter in blood and name only. nothing more.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

leaning back in your chair, you list a few things. “he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.” you state. like always, there’s a tangible coldness to your voice, which he finds soothing, for whatever reason.

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair.

you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

ii. THE HATRED WE BEAR

you find yourself staring at your father’s tombstone with a numb face and the wind breezing through your hair. your makeup is slightly smudged under your eyes from the tears you shed just an hour before, while you were giving the public a final speech regarding his passing.

the funeral was long — too long.

at a certain point, once the whole thing was done and everyone left, you decided to take a quiet moment for yourself in the graveyard to let everything sink in.

you made the mistake of thinking you’d left alone.

a voice you’re too familiar with speaks up behind you. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

of course it’s kim mingyu out of all people who’s still here, sneaking up on you.

you don’t have the energy to make a snarky comment this time. “i’d ask why you’re still here, but it’s a question i already know the answer to.”

he still offers you his answer. “i’m here to check up on you.”

well, that takes you by surprise. “why?”

“you lost the one parent you had left. i don’t want you to be alone.”

something about that sentence fuels a sudden anger in you. he’s got some fucking nerve, saying that to you. “maybe you should’ve considered that a couple years ago. you know, before you decided to become my dad’s little protege.”

even as a little girl, your bond with your father was a shitty one. your mother passed when you were young, so you barely have any memories left of her.

in an attempt to win his love and affection, you always did everything your father asked of you, yet your efforts were hardly acknowledged. you found him to be a harsh and cruel man, but surely with you being his daughter, his only child, he must’ve cared for you. or so you always told yourself.

something about your yearning for his approval and support changed for the worse when mingyu’s mother became a prominent business partner to your father, about nine years ago. it made him spend more time with the kim family, and you have no idea how or why it happened, but mingyu became like a son for him.

you saw how well your dad treated him, and you cried for a long, long time as you compared it to his neglect towards you. for every pat on mingyu’s back, you got scolded for not being good enough. whenever he got praised, you got discarded. it’s no miracle that you came to be the way that you are. detached, perceptive, appearing to be just as unfeeling as the man who raised you.

you hated your father. with all your heart.

but you grew to hate kim mingyu more.

so to hear him say that he doesn’t want you to be alone — that takes the goddamn cake.

he lowers his head at your words. “it wasn’t like that.”

“right. of course it wasn’t.” your voice is painfully spiteful.

“i wouldn’t have done it if i knew it was at your expense. i’m sorry.”

he’s trying to be nice to you, not understanding yet that it’s actually doing more damage, making you angrier. “the last thing i want is your fucking pity.”

“then what do you want?”

“nothing you can give me.” it’s a subtle final warning coming from you, because you’re actually about to explode at him. “just leave me be.”

“please, just... i wanna help you.”

like a ticking time bomb, you suddenly hit your limit. finally, you turn around, facing him, and it’s only then that he truly sees how upset you are, like a storm suddenly changing its direction, and he’s in the way.

“help me? you’d help me by getting the fuck out of my face. you wanna know what i want, mingyu? i want to know what in god’s name everyone loves so much about you, what it is that made my father shut me out completely and replace me with you. he gave you more love than he ever gave me. just looking at you makes me sick. what the fuck did he see in you that he didn’t see in me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from pouring your emotions out to the guy in front of you. “why did he hate me so much? even in death, he favors you over me. he left you... everything. a final ‘fuck you’ to his own child. and for what? for you?”

the fact that you got word from your father’s lawyer that your father chose to leave everything he had to mingyu instead of you was like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

throughout your life, you always did what was expected of you. you were the perfect daughter.

and for what?

the fact that your father grew to hate you and love this asshole so much that he left you not a single penny to your name — that is your tipping point.

and mingyu just wordlessly allows you to continue ranting, almost as if he deserves it.

“what the fuck is so special about you, huh? because i don’t get it. sure, you’ve got a nice face and you’re a smart guy, but i don’t believe you actually give a shit about others. i bet you came here today to rub my dad’s inheritance in my face — you fucking pretentious douchebag.”

“i’m sorry. i never meant—” he stumbles, nearly falling over as he backs away while you keep stepping forward, feeling surprisingly small in front of you, in spite of his tall frame.

“i don’t give a shit if this is what you intended to happen or not! i’m all alone.” you show your sadness right between the anger and hostility, vulnerable in front of him. “no family like everyone else, no money, no house, nothing. abandoned by the one person i had left.”

he looks at you as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. he’s never even shown you a hint of vulnerability — nor have you for that matter — so why is he showing it now?

you’re too deep into your breakdown to think rationally about it. “you took literally everything that i had. and i’ll never forgive you for that.”

“please, let me—let me fix it.” he chokes out, as overwhelmed by your strong emotions as you are yourself.

the harshness of your words makes him feel like he’s crumbling in your presence. “talk to me like you care about me one more goddamn time, and i’ll make you regret ever meeting me in the first place.”

in all the years that you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him flinch — you doubt any of your words have ever hurt him.

until this moment, it seems. but why is he even hurt? you don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about you. it’s always been that way, and you have a hard time believing it’ll ever change.

the moment you walk away from him with a sharp pain in your chest, pushing him to the side by his shoulder, he’s left behind in a shocked and bewildered state, neither of you aware that a pair of curious eyes witnessed the whole exchange.

iii. ULTERIOR MOTIVES

“the full inheritance of your father has been transferred over to you.”

the cup of tea you were raising stills with your hand. your eyes narrow at your lawyer as you’re seated in the garden of your father’s estate. “what—how? why? it wasn’t passed down to me.”

“no, but the person it was passed down to can always make the decision to pass it on. and he did — surprisingly with no strings attached,” he tells you, putting the document from the notary in front of you, “i had it all double-checked. everything’s there, the documents signed by kim mingyu himself.”

just hearing the name makes you grimace, putting you off your tea. “and there’s absolutely nothing he wants from me?”

“nothing was mentioned, no. he did, however, leave you a note.”

“what does it say?”

your lawyer raises his brow as he reads it, handing it to you instead of reading it out loud, which makes you give him a puzzled look before casting your eyes downwards to the piece of paper.

tomorrow, 4:30, my apartment. all you have to do is sign the papers. i look forward to the day you’ll make me regret meeting you.

“that asshole.” you mutter to yourself, not loud enough for your lawyer to hear it, but he’s certainly got an idea of how you feel about the whole situation.

“you do, of course, always have the option to reject the inheritance, but i would highly recommend not to. frankly, in all of my years of experience in this field, i’ve never felt a bigger need to encourage a client to take a deal.”

once you’ve picked up the documents and skimmed over the words, you look back at him. “and if i did accept it, it wouldn’t contain any possible implications for me in the long term?”

“none. it is... fairly remarkable he’s willing to give you the full inheritance for nothing in return, even if he and his family are known for their wealth. but it wouldn’t be a significant loss for him, considering the capital he already has to his name.” the man explains, not needing to spell it out for you.

you put down your cup. “knowing him, i’m not so sure he doesn’t want anything. i suppose i’ll have to talk to him about it myself, tomorrow.”

your lawyer highly encourages you to do so, leaving you to spend the rest of the day wondering what he could possibly want from you.

and so the following day, at 4:30 sharp, you step into his apartment — penthouse is the more fitting term. you’ll admit, though, that he’s got style.

it’s dead silent in his place, save for the metronome in the background and the slow brew of his coffee machine. he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black trousers as he approaches you. “glad you could make it. coffee?”

“why are you willing to give me the inheritance?” you ask directly, not feeling up for the unnecessary chitchat. you’ve always hated small talk. “if it was just a set-up, i’m leaving.”

he doesn’t seem to be even the slightest bit surprised by your forwardness. “i’m willing to give it to you because a) i don’t need it, and b) i don’t want it. i think it’s ridiculous your dad set up his will like this.”

“well, that makes two of us.” you fake a polite smile, clearly very sarcastically, putting your hand on your hip. “you asked me to come sign the papers, but i have yet to see them.”

mingyu smiles a little at you. of course you’d skip straight to business — you never were a girl of many words. he walks over to a cupboard and takes a sealed folder with the documents out of a drawer, handing it to you.

when you attempt to take the folder from him, he swiftly retracts his hand like the asshole he is. “it’s not completely free, though.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “of course. i should’ve known better than to believe you were willing to do something out of the kindness of your own heart.”

he just keeps going as if he didn’t hear you, very much used to the little quips you throw at him by now. “don’t worry, i think you can manage this very small task for me.”

“just tell me what you want already—”

“my family’s hosting a gala next week, on friday. i’d like you to be my date.”

you’re baffled. this is what he wants in return for the inheritance worth millions of dollars? to have you on his arm for a single night?

oh, hell no. you’re not falling for it.

“why? you wanna publicly humiliate me or something?” you question, a deep frown settled in your forehead.

he huffs, annoyed that you’d think that low of him. “i know we’ve always hated eachother, but, maybe, during a hard time… it would be nice to have one relaxed night. and yeah, i wouldn’t mind doing that with a pretty girl to keep me company. what do you say? deal?”

not once in all the years you’ve known him has he ever called you pretty.

“fine. but don’t think about pulling any stunts.”

“wouldn’t dare.” his smile sits somewhere beween teasing and serious when he finally hands you the papers.

you sit down and briefly scan the documents, not signing them right away to have them checked by your lawyer first. “if everything in this is according to the plan, you’ll have them signed by tomorrow morning.”

“okay. see you friday.” he winks at you, escorting you to his front door, a subtle grin on his face that gives off the impression he’s planning something, and you can only imagine what it might be.

there is one good thing about having to spend time in his family home, though — and that’s to search his rooms to find anything that might implicate him having something to do with your father’s murder.

since there’s still a culprit to be named.

with your own agenda in mind, you walk out of his apartment, searching for the name of your stylist in your contacts.

you’re going to need a dress, after all.

iv. A PROPOSAL

with a stern look on your face, you look at the entrance of the gala from the tinted window of your car. it’s all bright lights and colorful decorations, candles, flowers — the kim family is well known for their luxurious and memorable parties. you’ve attended plenty of them. while you and mingyu may not get along, his sister and mother are genuine sweethearts, some of the kindest and most welcoming people you know.

if only you could say the same for the asshole you’re about to spend the evening with.

after checking your makeup in the pocket-sized mirror for a final time, your driver opens your door so you can step out of the car, which leaves you on your own in front of the stairs.

mingyu originally mentioned he wanted to pick you up at your home like the gentleman he very much claims to be, but you very quickly shut the idea down and told him you’d just meet him at his family’s mansion.

so here you are.

attending a gala only a month after your father’s funeral must seem like an… interesting choice, to say the least. the people you come across express their condolences and ask if you’re doing well — you wonder if the sentiment is real or not — and you tell them you’re here because it serves well as a distraction.

you’ve become an excellent liar over the years.

as you’re standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing, you observe the people on the dance floor below. those who aren’t dancing are chattering, the noises of clinking glasses and laughter filling your ears.

most of the time, you’re able to somewhat enjoy this life. but the truth is that it can be as exhausting as it is glamorous.

but with your last living parent gone, you do feel a sense of freedom, even if it is lonely at times.

not like you didn’t feel lonely when he was still alive.

you didn’t love him or care for your father. you cared for the hope that someday he would change. that he would show you he did care for you, even a little bit.

but that day never came.

he was primarily an investor, so at least you haven’t been burdened with having to take over a business or anything like it. having no siblings either, you feel like you should take this opportunity to start fresh; focus on building your own career and use your father’s money for things he’d never approve of.

suddenly, you spot your date in the midst of the crowd, breaking you out of your train of thoughts. his half-long hair looks pretty on him, you have to admit, the few strands in front of his face paired with the tailored, navy suit giving him the appearance of a model.

he’s currently talking to an older woman who clearly seems to adore him, the smile he puts up making her give him a gentle, loving squeeze on his upper arms. like always, no one is able to read the bitterness you feel as your face remains neutral.

growing up in your restricted social circle of the country’s wealthiest families, your group of peers wasn’t extremely big. you all went to the same primary school, same private high school. mingyu was always one of if not the most popular kid at school. an effortless ace at every fucking thing. everyone loved him, be it your peers or their parents.

you wouldn’t say you weren’t popular. quite the opposite, actually. your best friend was the queen bee of the school, as she was always striving to be the best in everything. top of the class, highest achievements, a true perfectionist at heart. bold, definitely a bit judgemental and classist too, but once she’s your friend, she’s the sweetest girl in the world. she did like to dabble in some drama with others if it came onto her path.

and you were the opposite. you preferred to steer clear of any drama, much preferring to watch it unfold from the sidelines — as you usually just didn’t care enough to interfere with it — and you were never quite as talkative as your best friend.

the sentences leaving your mouth are always quick, direct, sharp and without stutter. you’re masterful at small talk, even though you hate it. you know how to play people like a fiddle. your father made you use your manipulation skills to good use rather frequently.

many consider you cold and calculated.

which is true, of course. but you still have a heart, even if it barely beats.

the outburst you gave mingyu after your father’s funeral must’ve come as a shock to him. no one has ever seen you in such a vulnerable and weak state, and out of all the people who could’ve seen it, it naturally had to be him — and that makes you uncomfortable.

once he’s finished his conversation, he looks in front of him, then up at the balcony — and he locks eyes with you.

you give him a look of acknowledgment, but that’s it. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, still shining as brightly as ever, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can. “i’m sorry i wasn’t at the entrance to greet you, i didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

“it’s fine.”

he glances up and down, admiring the dress you chose. “you look gorgeous.”

the deeply dark green dress with its boat neckline, long and fitted sleeves and intricate gold embroidery makes you look elegant. with the dress itself already being quite the statement piece, you chose to pair it with dainty earrings, your hair half-up and curled.

“thank you.” you don’t bother saying anything about his appearance. he must be used to it at this point.

“can i get you something to drink?”

you test the waters by throwing in a joke. “what, planning on poisoning me?”

his eyes flicker for a moment, stricken by something you can’t quite place, which makes you blink at him. his flirtatious and charming self returns within a mere second, and he proceeds to snicker at your joke. “i could, but where’d be the fun in that?”

rolling your eyes at him, you take his arm once he’s offered it, keeping in mind you’re doing this for the inheritance.

the time goes by quicker than expected. he introduces you to some of the people he’s close with, tells you stories you’ve never heard before, even asks you about yours.

a few of his friends come by as well, surprised to see you by mingyu’s side. most people your age here know that you and him have never quite gotten along, to put it lightly.

when they subtly ask about it, mingyu tells them he insisted you came to distract yourself from the death of your father, and that you could probably use a party.

it raises more question marks as to what his motive is for asking you to be here tonight. what is he gaining from this? he hasn’t humiliated you yet. if anything, he’s only spoken of you highly, save for the little snark he keeps between the two of you.

it’s strange. really strange.

after a while, once all the guests have been drinking a bit, you decide to set your own plan in motion. this might be your only chance to snoop around here, as you doubt you’ll find yourself in here again anytime soon.

you’re literally invited in his home — you’d be a fool not to check his room.

unfortunately, just as you try to disappear from the crowd, mingyu extends his hand to you. “dance with me?”

just as you’re about to refuse him, you remember that this is the one night you have to be nice to him, all so he can give you the inheritance that was meant to be yours in the first place.

with a small sigh, you slide your hand in his, at which he grins triumphantly.

before you know it, you’re in the middle of the room together, and he has his one hand on your lower back, the other hand intertwined with yours. he’s smooth with his moves, you have to admit.

the question has already left your mouth when you process it. “why am i here? i’m sure there’s a reason i needed to be your date tonight.”

mingyu cocks his head at you. “i think you’ve had to endure a lot the past couple weeks. the incident, the interrogations, the press, the shit with the inheritance — i’m impressed you haven’t lost your mind yet.”

“how do you know i haven’t?” you ask, and he twirls you around, his hands feeling like they’re burning on your skin. “wasn’t my breakdown after the funeral enough to prove you otherwise?”

“well, looking back, i should’ve probably left you alone in that moment. but i did think about what you said, and you can correct me if i’m wrong, but i feel like your father and our ties to him were what made us hate eachother so much. now that he’s gone, maybe we can… i don’t know. tolerate one another.”

you make sure to hide your confusion from him. does he really not see it? sure, the main reason you’ve always despised mingyu was because of his relationship with your father, but you weren’t exactly best friends before that either.

even putting it like that would still make it the understatement of the year.

if he actually pictures the two of you becoming friends, though, he’s lost it.

unsure of what to tell him, you give him a shitty excuse to escape the conversation. “i’m just gonna use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind.” you let mingyu know, and he nods at you in acknowledgement, caught off guard by you leaving so suddenly.

so you walk off, the voices of the people and the music in the hall fading into the background as you trail off.

now that you’re alone, you can finally go check his room.

it’s harder to navigate the mansion than you thought. hallways that all look similar, god knows how many rooms — you hope you won’t get lost here.

one of your best friends is good friends with mingyu’s sister, and so she knows the place like the back of her hand. when you asked her for the layout of the place, she did think it strange, but you told her she had nothing to worry about.

mingyu’s bedroom and study are supposedly on the third floor of the east wing, and the party takes place in the west wing.

so that’s just fucking great.

your best friend did warn you that he most often keeps his doors locked whenever visitors are present, so to ensure you could get in, you snatched the key from his pocket when he was dancing with you earlier.

it almost makes you chuckle when you think about how easy it was.

when you’ve finally arrived at what seems to be the door to mingyu’s room, you double-check the environment around you to see whether anyone’s following you, and when it appears to be safe, you shove the key into the lock, twisting it.

you exhale when realizing it’s the right key.

entering the room, you quickly shut it behind you, taking in the sight.

it’s raining outside, which you take notice of through the large windows. several paintings adorn the walls — you didn’t know he was a lover of art — as well as some photos of him with his family.

the room is surprisingly tidy, his clothes all neatly folded on the wooden planks in his closet and the drawers underneath. the few books he has sitting on top of the cupboard are gathering dust — you suppose he doesn’t like to read all that much.

of course he doesn’t.

his king-sized bed seems soft and comfortable, and the room smells of the cologne and perfume he always wears.

you blink a few times, realizing you’re dwelling too much on details that are not a priority right now.

which is enough to snap you awake, a rush of adrenaline moving through your veins as you look for anything interesting. files, documents, notebooks — anything.

you find his agenda in a drawer of his desk. with slightly trembling fingers, you move the pages back to the date of your father’s death, as well as the days before that.

as you’re caught up with doing so, you momentarily forget the first rule of breaking into a forbidden space: never turn your back to a door when you should be watching it.

“you know, i’m starting to think you agreeing to be my date came with ulterior motives on your side.” you suddenly hear mingyu’s voice behind you, at which you turn around, looking a bit too guilty for comfort.

your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, but you keep your composure. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t plan this.”

“it’s alright.” he responds, closing the door behind him smoothly, as if he doesn’t want you to see it. “you still think i had something to do with your father’s death, don’t you?”

“i’m not sure. i don’t see why you would, now that you’ve given me the inheritance. what other motive could you have?”

all mingyu does is clench his jaw at the rhetorical question. then he snaps out of it, his eyes trailing to the desk you’re currently leaning on. he takes a few steps closer to you, and you raise a brow, waiting in anticipation what he’ll do.

his face is suddenly very close to yours, and you’re almost convinced he’s leaning in to touch you when he reaches for the drawer behind you instead. “well, as a matter of fact, i did have something to show you.”

that surprises you.

“your father always carried a little red notebook with him. it’s the only part of the inheritance i didn’t give you, solely because i wanted to show you myself. there’s a few strange scribblings in it, with locations and numbers, and look at this—” he opens it up in front of you, pointing at the paper with his index finger, “apparently he felt like he was being followed just days before he died. maybe the police is right and he did get murdered.”

“yeah, i already figured he probably pissed off the wrong guy.” when he looks at you hopefully, you shrug. “what?”

“we should check it out, right? find out who killed him.”

you immediately shake your head at his suggestion. “no.”

mingyu’s whole body language changes, genuine confusion overtaking his features. “what do you mean, no?”

“he was caught up in all kinds of shit, things i never wanted to be a part of. that’s no different now that he’s six feet under.”

“are you not the slightest bit curious who killed him?”

“frankly, no, i’m not. i’d say whoever is guilty did me a favor.”

despite your valid point, he persists. “okay, then how about this — what if this person would come after you for whatever reason? don’t you want to know who you’re dealing with?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “why do you care so much, mingyu? i’m sure this is something you could manage on your own.”

the sudden question surprises him, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m not sure why. but i do. and you know i did care for him.”

“why don’t you just let the police handle it?”

“because they don’t know this world — and we have access to places, people they wouldn’t even know where to find or how to deal with. have you talked to the detectives? they’re amateurs.” he answers, pausing before taking a step closer to you. “he’s dead either way, doing a small bit of research might be interesting. who knows what you might find.”

“and you wanna do this with me of all people because...?”

he rolls his eyes at the question. “you were the only other person directly affected by it. c’mon, am i really so bad that you can’t even deal with me for a little while?”

the fact that you just give him a deadpan stare tells him all he needs to know.

it makes you bite your lip. you don’t feel like doing this at all, certainly not with mingyu of all people, but he appears to be ready to do this with or without you.

besides, you do feel up for a little adventure.

“fine, i’ll bite. hypothetically, what if i were interested in finding out who killed him?”

the young man in front of you tilts his head. “then i’d suggest we work together and do some digging.”

pursing your lips, you watch his pleased expression when he notices you’re actually considering it. “why do i feel like i’m gonna regret this?”

“maybe you will. maybe you won’t. we can go right back to hating eachother after this, but for now, we’ll be partners. deal?”

your eyes linger on the hand he’s stretched out to you, and even as you’re hesitant to take it, he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

with a sigh, you shake his hand. “okay. deal.”

v. PARTNERS IN CRIME

“for someone so organized, he sure as hell has a lot of unnecessary shit lying around here.” mingyu mutters, searching through the drawers of the cupboard.

you scoff in agreement. “tell me about it.”

the two of you are rummaging through your father’s study in your home in an attempt to find anything interesting as to what he might’ve been up to the past few years.

so far, you’ve had zero luck with it.

you already figured there’d probably be nothing of interest here, but mingyu insisted, said it would be stupid not to. so here you are.

“you know, i’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be as stupid as to just leave traces of his criminal affiliations lying around in his study.”

mingyu shrugs while simultaneously looking into a drawer. “you never know.”

“he was an asshole, but he was a smart one.” you mumble to yourself as you go through the little notebook mingyu just handed you a few minutes ago.

he watches you with curiosity. “can i ask you something?”

without looking up at him, you give him a rather direct response. “i’m sure you’ll ask me regardless of my answer to that question.”

ever so indifferent, he thinks. if anything, one thing about you he is actually fond of is your unfiltered attitude. more people should be like that. “you said you’d never forgive me for what i did to you."

hearing those words makes you look up at him. you’re surprised he’s taking an approach this straightforward with you. “i know what i said.”

“is there nothing i can do to at least make things more civil between us?”

god, you’re sick of him already.

instead of outright telling him you hate him more than anyone else you know, you cross your arms over your chest and fire a question right back at him. “why do you want things to be different between us? don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over it, now.”

mingyu pauses a moment before he answers you. “i thought about the things you said, when you were upset with me, and i realized i’ve made your life harder without having intended to do so. and yeah, i am losing sleep over it.”

while he does appear earnest, you don’t exactly trust him, so all you do is shrug your shoulders.

he wants to say something right when his phone rings. once he picks up, you figure it must be something business-related, judging by the tone of his voice and formal language.

an apology directed at you leaves his mouth as soon as he’s hit the red button on his screen. “i’m sorry. an important business meeting was moved and i promised my mom i’d be there.”

you’ve met mingyu’s mother a few times, at events. she’s the ceo of a very prominent hotel business. many of the highest ranked hotels around the world are under her care, and she clearly knows what she’s doing, since her business has been thriving for many years at this point. you remember it was her who took over as ceo after mingyu’s father passed in a car accident when he was younger.

“then you better get going.” you tell him, your face not pulling a single muscle. you hope he didn’t think you were going to ask him to stay.

he nods at your words, taking the jacket with his initials embroidered in the tag and slinging it over his arm. “yeah. i’ll call you.” he says, going out the doorway, yet your voice makes him halt in his tracks.

“mingyu.” you say his name to him, an unfamiliar feeling on your tongue, and he turns to look back at you.

he awaits your words, catching the subtle warning in your eyes as you refer back to the question of his you had yet to answer.

“we may be working together now — call us associates, or even partners in crime — but once this is over, we’ll go right back to strangers. let’s just keep this… somewhat professional.”

you find he can be surprisingly hard to read from time to time, for a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. after blankly staring at you for a few seconds, processing the words, he just offers you a little smile and a gentle response. “okay.”

and he walks off, only leaving you more intrigued than before.

for two days, it’s complete radio silence from mingyu. all he asked you over text was if you’d been able to find anything in the study, to which you replied with a simple no. he didn’t say anything else.

you sincerely thought this whole investigation of yours wasn’t actually gonna lead to anything, that it was useless — until now.

it’s eleven o’clock, dark outside, the metronome ticking in the background of your living room as your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop.

you just got a notification from the bank that someone made a significant withdrawal from one of your father’s bank accounts, one that still needs to be signed over to your name.

question is, who the fuck has access to your father’s bank account besides you?

no one. supposedly.

staring at mingyu’s contact in your phone, you twist your lips, unsure of whether to call him about this or not.

going against your gut, you press on his phone number and wait for him to answer the call.

nothing.

for good measure, you call him a second time. same result.

then it hits you. you spoke to wonwoo last night — he mentioned something about him and mingyu going out together this evening.

wonwoo, thankfully, does pick up his phone. “hey. what’s up?”

“hey. are you with mingyu right now?”

“yeah, why?”

“where are you?”

“uh—” he stutters out an address in the middle of the city, clearly confused by the urgency in your voice. “what’s going on? what do you need mingyu for?”

“well, it’s hard to explain. anyway, i’m coming over.”

“he’s kind of—”

you quickly interrupt him by hanging up. taking your wallet and car keys, you head out. the address wonwoo’s given you is located in the club scene downtown, and you make it there in no-time with the navigation on your phone.

parking your car across the block, you get out and check your phone, heading to wherever wonwoo and mingyu currently are. you usually tend to go for the clubs at the other side of the city, as the vibe feels a little different here, but you’ve been around the neighborhood a couple times, so it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you.

when you arrive at the club, you catch the sight of your friend leaning against the stone wall outside.

jeon wonwoo, all handsome in his expensive jacket and sleek shoes, looks surprised when he notices you of all people coming up to him, even though you told him you were coming. his voice is soft when he greets you. “hey. you gonna tell me what exactly you’re doing here?”

shrugging your shoulders, you put your hands in the pockets of your black coat. “you said you were here with mingyu. i gotta talk to him.”

“right now?”

taking note of his baffled reaction, you tilt your head to the side. “yes, right now. i don’t care if he’s occupied.”

wonwoo brings a cigarette to his lips, pushing the pair of dark-rimmed glasses higher up his nose. “what’s going on with you and him, anyway? i thought you hated each other.”

“we still do.”

“well, something’s changed.”

“believe me, wonwoo, i don’t like him any more than he likes me.”

all he does is narrow his dark eyes at you.

just when you want to open the backdoor to the club, wonwoo stops you. “you do know what kind of establishment this place is, right?”

frowning at him, you open the door just the slightest bit to check whatever he’s getting at, and once you catch sight of the pink and red lights, sensual music and metal poles attached to the ceiling, you momentarily close the door again.

right. this must be one of those clubs that are hidden from the prying eyes of non-customers, to give the illusion there’s nothing going on behind these walls, giving the rich clients some privacy in their activities.

you roll your eyes. “when you said you were going to the club, i didn’t think you meant a strip club.”

“i was about to tell you when you hung up on me.”

“so why are you out here and not in there with him?”

“because i wanted to smoke and he felt like heading into a more secluded space. with company, no doubt.”

oh, this is gonna be fun. since kim mingyu pretty much ruined your life, the very least you can do in return is ruin his night. you briefly chuckle to yourself. “alright. well, have fun smoking.”

“you’re still going in?” he calls after you, and all you can do is scoff.

“you think i care whether kim mingyu’s gonna have a good time or not?”

“forget i asked.” he responds, the hint of a smile tugging at his facial features. “i’ll wait here ‘til you get back.”

you shoot him a knowing smirk before stepping into the club. remaining in the background, you scan the area to see if there’s a glimpse of him somewhere.

at the other side of the bar, a man seems to be on watch in front of a separate hallway, so you figure that’s where the jackpot is.

not bothering to look back at the bartender, whose gaze trails after you, you head over to where you need to be, which is where you’re stopped in your path, as expected.

“these are occupied private rooms, ma’am.” a bouncer tells you.

“look, sir, i…” you begin, coming up with some bullshit excuse to get past him, “i’m pretty sure i saw my boyfriend just go in here with a dancer. all i want is a confirmation, i’m not looking to start drama.”

before the man can respond, you wordlessly hold up a small stack of hundred dollar bills between your index and middle finger, waiting for him to take the bribe.

works like a charm wherever you go.

his demeanor changes once he sees the money. “what’s he look like?”

“tall, dark medium-long hair, brown eyes, pretty handsome — though that’s probably subjective.” you shrug, adding a little fake smile to it. you can get far in life with a little charm and money.

the few generic features seem to be enough for the bouncer to know who you’re talking about. he takes the money from your hand, pointing his finger at one of the more secluded rooms in the back.

“go for room number six.” he says, stepping to the side so you can pass him.

thanking him, you head into the back, the heels of your ankle boots clicking against the floor.

the rooms have their matching numbers on neon signs above them. your eyes curiously take in everything they see, but all rooms grant the people in them privacy with the use of frosted glass.

once you’ve made it to the room with the number six on the sign, you take a breath while your hand rests on the handle.

you enter the room soundlessly. the broad space is dimly lit with its soft lights, a mixture of yellow, pink and red almost convincing you that this place is a mere fever dream.

mingyu is seated on the velvet red couch, his legs spread with a girl in skimpy lingerie dancing between them.

yet his eyes are on you.

with his head tilted down, he looks up at you from beneath his lowered brows, peering right past the bare hips of the girl as if she’s not dancing in front of him at all.

you catch a hint of intrigue in his features. he reaches inside his pocket to hand a small stack of money to the dancer in the exact same way you did with the bouncer only a minute before, and the girl leaves you to your privacy.

“hello to you, too.” he says, not bothering to move a single muscle as he remains on the soft couch.

“next time, answer your damn phone.” you scold him, staring him down with the coldest glare you can muster, and mingyu’s not sure why, but he relishes in it. it doesn’t happen often that someone treats him like this.

“i was occupied.” he casually answers, his hand running through his dark locks.

“well, not anymore.” you grin, handing him your phone to show the photo of the bank transcripts. “apparently, my dead father just took fifty grand out of his account.”

mingyu furrows his brows at the screen. “where?”

“all the way at the other side of the city. question is, who else has access to his account, aside from me?”

“we should go and check the footage.” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and he finally gets up, towering over you again. “i know someone who’s with the municipal authorities, i’ll make the call.”

“right now?” you ask, referring to how deep into the night it is, at which he raises his brow.

“yes, right now. this is the best clue we’ve come across so far. don’t you agree?”

“i do. i just thought you cared more about, y’know, being occupied.” you emphasise the last words with a waving hand, gesturing to the girl that was previously dancing on him, and his flirtatious nature comes right back to him as if it never left.

“why? wanna give me a show before we leave?” he smirks, getting closer, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you, to see what’s lurking underneath your closed-off persona.

fine. both of you can play this game, you think to yourself. “what, are the girls here not enough to get you off?”

“is that a yes?”

“why would you want a lap dance from a girl you can’t stand? i may not like you, mingyu, but i didn’t think you’d stoop so low to go after any woman with a pulse.”

“i feel flattered,” he smiles, eyes trailing down to your exposed collarbones, finding it ridiculously hot in here, “and i don’t particularly like you, either, but we both know you’re gorgeous. besides, i’ve seen you dance at chan’s club. you looked good.”

his honesty almost stuns you in your place. you didn’t think he held that kind of physical attraction towards you, yet it makes you feel good — because you think he’s fucking hot, too.

such a shame that he’s an asshole.

but still, there’s no time to dwell on his words. you have a reputation to uphold and a murder to solve, after all.

so you lean in, whispering your decision. “in your dreams.”

jesus, mingyu thinks, do you even remotely know how much sex appeal you have? it makes him beyond impulsive. “did you know studies have shown that sleeping with someone you can’t stand is arguably the best thing ever?”

you sarcastically reply to him with the exact same tone. “did you know you’d be so much more bearable if you just kept your mouth shut?”

“what? it’s part of my charm.” is all he says in return, snickering a little over your response, and you merely roll your eyes.

“we’ve got a different idea of charm, then.”

“okay, fair enough.” he shrugs, still maintaining the minimal distance between your bodies. “so what do you find charming? i’m dying to know, really.”

“i like men who don’t feel the need to pay for a woman’s touch.” the reply comes fast and sharp as a blade. “i hope you pay them generously, since they have to put up with you out of all people.”

“she didn’t touch me, though. it’s a strip club, not a brothel.”

“how noble of you.” you humorlessly chuckle at him, attitude turning more playful.

“mhm.” mingyu nods his head, the rest of his words sounding lower and suave. “tell me more. c’mon, i’m curious. i gotta know my partner’s preferences, right?”

the look you give your current partner is something. you decide to indulge him this once, face inching closer to his, just to keep things interesting. “i want someone who won’t hold me back. someone who will accept me for who i am — uninhibited.”

there’s something you can’t quite place flashing behind his eyes. it’s close to intrigue, but more intense, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen it in anyone else’s eyes before.

“good to know.” he breathes out, as if your words stole his breath, and you come to the realization that maybe, there’s more to kim mingyu than you thought.

now that he seems to be pretty much speechless, you raise your shoulders. “so, are we heading out or should i tell the dancer to come back in?”

he stutters out a reply, and you find it funny how his attitude is constantly going back and forth between a flustered mess and the most confident guy in the room.

once you’ve returned to the backdoor where you got in, you see wonwoo is still outside, his cigarette put out on the ashtray beside him.

“you leaving?” wonwoo asks, waiting for either of you to answer.

“yeah. duty calls.” mingyu replies while putting his jacket on.

for what it’s worth, wonwoo is actually a dear friend of yours, and one of the few people you show physical affection to, so you give him a kiss on the cheek before walking off. “catch you later, okay?”

he nods, catching mingyu curiously watching the exchange, and when you walk off with him, wonwoo notices him put his hand on your lower back, which you proceed to swat away.

a mere twenty minutes later, you and mingyu are seated in your car in an empty parking lot, looking at a screen displaying street security footage of the bank where the withdrawal was made earlier tonight.

mingyu’s friend seungkwan, who works for the authorities, sent you the footage, and as you’re looking it over, he’s on the phone explaining his observations. “he was wearing a mask and a cap, so we couldn’t recognize him. the car he drove has a license plate that doesn’t match, so likely stolen. he drove from a nearby parking garage to the bank, withdrew the cash, got back in the car and then parked it right here, about six blocks further, in the business district.”

the building the car is parked across is one you’d recognize any time of day. it’s where your father’s main office is — or was — one of the places he never allowed you to get into, or anyone for that matter. it was the only place where he got the peace and quiet he wanted.

you turn your head to glance at mingyu, giving him a knowing look. “that’s where my father’s main office is.”

“you think the guy’s gonna try to break in?”

“if he got his hands on the passcodes and proceeds to wait before the building he always worked in, then yeah, i do.”

you nod in agreement, because he makes a fair point. mingyu looks at the worried expression on your face and decides you’ve gathered enough information now.

he thanks seungkwan and tells him bye before hanging up, then turning his focus to you. “whoever that guy is, if he’s planning on breaking in, we gotta beat him to it.”

“you wanna break into an office on the seventh floor located in a building that neither of us are allowed into? they won’t even let us pass the front desk. i know because i’ve tried.”

he shakes his head. “trust me — we’ll find a way in. i’ve got an idea, but it’s not gonna be easy.”

vi. WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I

the following days are spent analyzing and memorizing blueprints, tracking the people entering and exiting the building and checking security in the hope of finding some kind of loophole in the system.

trying to get in through the front door is too risky, so you’ve opted for the roof instead, because there’s several buildings so closeby that you can get into either of the buildings next to it and reach it from there. you’ll get in with a classic heist movie tactic you pray works in real life as well.

ventilation shafts.

so now, you’re both in dark and practical clothing to attempt breaking in. because your plan is mediocre at best.

as you watch from the rooftop of a currently unoccupied office building nearby with a binocular, you face-palm yourself the moment you notice the security set-up is different than anticipated with the blueprints, meaning the ventilation shafts are most likely not accessible. “well, fuck.”

“what’s wrong?”

you hand the binocular to mingyu, and he mimics your previous actions, huffing in annoyance when he sees it too. “shit. what do we do now?”

“nothing.”

“what?”

“our plan was already risky enough, but now that we pretty much don’t even have a way in, we’d be stupid to try. we only have a fifteen-minute window before a security guard comes up the roof again.”

“that’s plenty.”

“it would be, for like — a swat team. we’re amateurs. at this, anyway.”

“speak for yourself.”

“oh, i’m sorry, have you done anything remotely on this scale before?”

“well… no.”

pinching the bridge of your nose, you roll your eyes to yourself. “we should’ve brought wonwoo.”

mingyu is quick to respond with a sarcastic comment. “and tell him what, exactly? ‘hey, we need your help breaking into one of the best-guarded buildings in the city so we can snoop around and try to find a clue leading to a killer’?”

“well, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, gyu, but we quite literally have no other options.”

“we could always try the front door. you’re still his daughter, they might let you in.”

“i really hope that wasn’t an actual suggestion, because if it was, it would highly diminish the idea i have of your intelligence.”

“is this your way of telling me you think i’m smart?”

“well, currently, i think you’re being an idiot, so no.” you retort, stealing the binocular out of his hand again. “god, i’m starting to respect criminals. this shit is difficult to navigate around.”

mingyu chuckles as he adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. “there has to be another way. maybe we could—”

“—get in through an open window.” you interrupt, handing the device over to him. “you see the glass window in the roof of his office? it looks like it’s ajar.”

once he sees it too, he tilts his head. “it’s almost too easy. it’d have to open manually, otherwise we’re screwed.”

you can only shrug. “it’s only a modern interior on the inside, the building itself is older, so the odds might be on our side. besides, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“can’t argue with that.” he agrees, checking the other buildings around to figure out the best approach.

you watch him as he’s distracted. he’s fully going for the whole partners-in-crime thing you’ve got going on with him, yet a part of you is still unsure what his motives might be.

but for now, you’ll just focus on the task at hand.

every fifteen minutes, a security guard comes up to the roof, checks everything, stays for a minute or two and leaves again. you’ve been keeping track of it. as soon as the one currently on duty closes the door to the staircase behind him, heading back down, you both start a silent timer on your watches, getting to work.

one thing you discover doing said task is that jumping from roof to roof is really not as easy as they make it seem in the movies. if anything, it’s pretty scary, even if they are relatively close to eachother.

the jump from the last building to the one you need to be on top of has the biggest gap, and mingyu takes a solid leap, landing ever so gracefully.

you shuffle your feet for a moment, making the mistake of looking down. mingyu notices your hesitation and tries to encourage you the best he can. “it looks scary, but it’s a relatively easy jump. i swear. that’s gotta mean something coming from a person with a fear of heights.”

clenching your fists, you try to steady your breathing. “don’t you lie to me, kim.”

there’s something strangely charming about you using his last name whenever you’re scolding him. “c’mon. i’ve always thought you were fearless. you’re not gonna diminish the idea i have of you, right?”

curse him for using your words against you like that.

clenching your fists, you bite your lip, the worst case scenario going through your head over and over.

“just go back a couple steps. steady your breathing, and then you run. okay?”

you don’t respond to his words but do as he says anyways. the jump isn’t even that far, you’re just afraid of tripping.

but you won’t go out embarrassing yourself in front of kim mingyu. your pride is too strong for that.

so you take a deep breath and make a run for it, jumping over the gap and landing on top of the other roof, far away from the edge. mingyu laughs triumphantly. “good job.”

“thanks.” you smile as he helps you up to your feet, and you dust off your jacket, proud of yourself for going through with it.

the two of you walk over to the glass window, and you kneel down, inspecting the lock. thank fuck — it’s so simple that all you have to do is click it open. you’re guessing they probably thought the security walking around was enough.

with your hands covered in gloves, you wiggle them through the gap and crack it open, after which mingyu takes the lead. he lets himself drop into the office silently, looking up at you as a gesture for you to follow him.

you attempt to do the same as him, but you figure he must have strong arm muscles, because you’re barely able to hold yourself up the way he can. he notices your struggle and moves to stand underneath you.

“just let go. i’ll catch you.”

“are you sure?”

he nods, his arms up as if he’s waiting for you to jump right into them. “yeah, yeah. i got you.”

not entirely convinced, you try to drop onto the floor in a way you can still hold yourself up, but mingyu proves himself true to his word when he catches you as easily as drawing his next breath. he looks you in the eye while he has you in his arms, his senses feeling heightened as your clothed skin touches with his.

then you tap on his shoulder, and he lets go of you.

the office is bigger than anticipated. the moonlight from outside is bright enough for you to not need a flashlight, so that’s beneficial.

mingyu is awfully quick on his feet for someone as tall and bulky as him. he’s quiet in every step he takes, which is useful in a situation like this.

while he begins to look through a bunch of drawers, you open cabinet after cabinet, going through some documents that don’t really contain anything interesting.

you turn to look at the desk and the painting on the wall behind it. it’s nothing spectacular — your father never had much of an appreciation for art, so you find it strange he’d even have it up here.

out of sheer curiosity, you try to check if there’s a secret stash behind the painting like in those crime movies.

you have to refrain from laughing when your eyes fall onto the safe in the wall. “hey. gyu.”

he turns around, his entire demeanor changing when he sees what you’ve found. “you’re kidding.”

the safe has a surprisingly easy system. it has four dials, so you need a code with four numbers to get access to whatever’s inside. you change the dials to your birth year for fun, but naturally, it doesn’t work. hell, mingyu’s birth year might have a better shot.

while you try out every combination you can think of, mingyu gets the little notebook out of his pocket — the one that was part of your father’s inheritance. he flips to one of the last pages. “try 9-3-6-8.”

going with his suggestion, you rotate the dials until they have the right numbers, and you hear a click. blinking a few times, you turn the small crank wheel beside the dials and open the safe.

there’s not much inside in terms of quantity, but the things that are in there are no joke.

two gold ingots, a stack of files and a loaded handgun with a silencer attached to it.

“what the fuck was he up to?” mingyu asks rhetorically, inspecting the pistol with care, and you shrug, grabbing the files to put them into the bag you took with you.

“i don’t know, but we should hurry up. we can look at whatever all this is later. clock’s ticking.”

he figures you make a good point, so you hold out your bag, and he puts all of the safe’s contents into it.

you’re both scared to death when you suddenly hear voices coming from the other side of the door. you immediately zip up your bag and close the safe back up, putting the painting right back in front of it.

footsteps come approaching your direction, and you realize you don’t have enough time to get back out of the office without being caught red-handed, so you’ll have to find a place to hide.

just as you’re about to go sit underneath the desk, mingyu doesn’t hesitate to grab you by your hand and pull you against his body, both of you hiding in the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, which is right next to the door.

you almost jump in your place when the door is opened by a security guard, and mingyu puts his hand over your mouth to make sure the guard doesn’t hear you.

thankfully, you’re hidden right behind the door now that it’s opened, but your heart is fucking pounding as your chest is pressed against mingyu’s, and all you can focus on is him.

he’s suffocatingly close to you.

the situation forces you to look at him so closely — like never before. your attention trails down from his dark eyes to the litte mole on the bottom of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the glimpse you catch of the silver chain adorning his collarbones.

it’s the first time you see how big of a man he is. he’s been working out a lot in the past few years, with considerable results — standing this close to him highlights the contrast between his frame and yours.

the footsteps leave the office not long after, and the door closes. you’re finally able to breathe properly when he releases his palm from your mouth, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

“you alright?”

“yeah. that was just — scary.” you respond, cracking a little smile.

he nods, neither of you really moving in your places yet. “you can let go of me, y’know.” mingyu whispers, sounding entirely unconvincing, and you frown before looking to your hand that’s apparently been clutching his jacket this whole time.

“oh, yeah. sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he assures you, pointing to the ceiling. “we should probably head back.”

you agree and sling the bag over your shoulders, on your back. he gets onto the desk first so he can climb out the same window you used to get in, and once he’s gotten up the roof again, he extends his hand to you so he can pull you up.

it doesn’t go smoothly. he’s a little clumsy, but he manages, so you take a breather once you’ve made it out of the office with him. you close the window in the exact position it was before you opened it, and you make it to the safety of the rooftop where you started just twenty minutes ago.

as you quickly go down the stairs of the abandoned building to reach the ground floor, he laughs triumphantly. “holy fucking shit. i can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”

you smile at him with adrenaline still rushing through you, heart still pounding in your chest when you realize what you just did.

and honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever felt that… alive.

a mere fifteen minutes later, you’re seated in a half-empty diner with him. he’s across from you in the booth, elbows on the table as he fiddles with his fingers.

while he looks around the place, you take the files you found in the safe out of your bag so you can look them over.

as your eyes fall onto the first page, you frown.

mingyu notices your gaze. “what’s wrong?”

you switch to the other file folders before scoffing to yourself, realization hitting you. “you gotta be fucking kidding me. they’re tabs he kept on the people around him. the staff at home, his driver... even me. and you. well, looks like he didn’t trust you completely.”

before he can even reply to the subtle dig, you slide the folder with his name on it across the table, and he opens it up, noticing a huge chunk of information on him neatly stashed away in separate documents. there’s even candids there that must’ve been made by a private investigator.

“i knew he was paranoid, but this takes the cake.” you mutter, and you throw the folders back into your bag, and mingyu hands you his so you can take it as well.

“well, this sucks.” he sighs. “those files aren’t of much use, so now we’re back to square one.”

you tilt your head. “that’s not entirely true. we might be able to check where the gun came from, or whose name it’s registered under.”

mingyu hums, lifting the cup to his mouth, whispering a compliment, not really expecting for you to hear it. “smart girl.”

with your bag zipped up and everything off the table again, it’s quiet between you and mingyu for a moment.

“god, i’m starving.” he says as you wait for your food to arrive, and where he’s slightly fidgeting in his place, you sit completely still, looking at him with a frown. once he catches your gaze, he raises a brow at you. “what?”

“do you do this often?”

“eating in a cheap diner?”

“trespassing. breaking in. illegal activities. whatever you wanna call it.”

he shrugs. “occasionally. keeps life interesting, y’know?”

the casualness in his attitude makes you scoff. “sure.”

“you don’t agree?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“no, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.” he says bluntly. he doesn’t mean it as an offensive statement in the slightest, but it would’ve probably sounded better if worded differently.

for a moment, he thinks his impulsivity must’ve upset you, seeing as you remain silent for a moment.

then you laugh at him. the sound is completely new to him, yet strangely soothing to his ears.

“you’re bold, i’ll give you that.” you snicker before taking a sip of your coke. “but i assume you don’t have an issue with people who are on the quieter side, since you’re besties with wonwoo and all.”

mingyu mimics your facial expressions. “yeah, i prefer being around quieter people more. but i didn’t—it came out wrong. i meant, you don’t really, like... show who you are. if that makes sense. even back when we were in high school, you were like a mystery. you still are, to me.”

“is this what this whole partnering-up thing is about? you wanting to unravel the mystery about me? because if it is, i’ll give you credit for the creativity.”

mingyu tilts his head. “well, it’s a little more nuanced than that.”

“if you wanted to get to know me, why didn’t you try years ago?”

“have you met you?”

you roll your eyes. he smirks at you, enjoying your company quite a lot, anticipating whatever it is you’ll say in response.

“you wanna know something, mingyu?”

“yeah.”

“you’re telling me i’m the mysterious one, but i’d say that’s you.”

his playfulness falters a bit, and he shows his confusion instead. “me?”

“mhm. you’re popular, good-looking, charming, all of that — and i think you’ve got layers to yourself that no one even knows about. characteristics no one would ever dare imagine when they think of you.”

his breath hitches in his throat. “why do you think that?”

twisting your lips into a pout, you put your drink back down on the table. “wouldn’t be any fun if i outright told you, would it?”

mingyu narrows his eyes at you. you just shrug, as if to tell him he’ll figure it out, if he’s smart enough.

and he welcomes the challenge.

“okay.” he smiles, biting his lip when he leans back in his seat. “but, hypothetically — what if you’re wrong about me? what if i don’t have those layers you’re talking about?”

you eye him up and down, remaining quiet with your arms crossed over your chest. you’ve always had that attitude. like you know more than everyone else, as if you’re the smartest person in the room. usually, you are. and yet you’re never smug about it, unless someone challenges you to be — you’re always calm, cool, collected. stoic. the fact that wonwoo of all people called you an ice princess years ago says enough.

“i’d be sorely disappointed.”

“so you have high expectations of me?”

“in a way, perhaps. though you’ll have to work a little harder to impress me.”

“tonight wasn’t enough?”

“it was a start. we still loathe eachother, remember?”

“right. i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

sure, you and kim mingyu hate one another, but he still makes you smile the most anyone has in ages, and you make him feel more alive than anyone else has.

vii. FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER

“i’ve got bad news.” you say, tapping your nails on the coffee table in your living room as you have mingyu on speaker.

“okay. do tell.”

“the gun isn’t registered, so we pretty much only have the files as evidence.”

“yeah. i doubt your father put those files together himself, since they seem like the work of a professional. we might be smart to seek out the private investigator who gave him the intel.”

you know he hears you sigh at the other end of the line, and your response hardly sound convincing. “yeah, i guess.”

“what’s wrong?”

it’s quiet for a moment. you speak up with a tension rumbling in your chest. “maybe we should just quit, gyu. i don’t feel like what we’re doing is actually going anywhere. we still don’t have a proper lead.”

then it’s his turn to remain silent, and you swear you can hear his breath shudder. “we’ll get there. it just... takes some time.”

“you sound a little too sure of that.”

“i just think it’d be a waste to not continue after the stunt we pulled last week.”

“what’re we gonna be doing next? breaking into the national bank?”

“something tells me you’d find that exciting.”

well, shit. have you become so transparent that kim mingyu of all people can tell the truth about you?

“maybe i would.” you grumble like a child admitting defeat.

the sound of his laughter echoes through the phone. it subconsciously brings a small smile to your face.

“look, i have a meeting ‘til five. i can come by after to brainstorm about things, pick up some food on the way. are you free tonight?”

“yeah. text me when you’re on the way here.”

“yes, ma’am.” he jests, saying he’s got to go before hanging up. it leaves you to stare at your phone for a minute. a past version of yourself would never believe it if you said mingyu would ever get close to you in the way he has over the past two months. it’s been a strange time. it’s come to the point you’re pretty sure you don’t even hate him as much as you used to.

maybe you don’t even hate him at all anymore. maybe.

but something about admitting that to yourself feels scary, so you put your thoughts elsewhere while secretly looking forward to having him come over again.

it’s a quarter past five when he sends you a message, letting you know he’s picked up the food and on the way to your house, and a mere twenty minutes later, you and him are seated in the lounge on the first floor as he tells you about his day – all while shoving a dumpling into his mouth.

what interrupts you, however, is the noise of your doorbell. mingyu frowns instantly, and you mimic his expression, because you weren’t expecting any more company. “who’s that?”

“no idea.” you shrug, so you get up from your seat, jogging down the stairs with mingyu following you, simultaneously chewing the food in his mouth.

checking the screen beside the door that’s connected to the doorbell, you notice a familiar face standing outside.

“isn’t he the main detective on the investigation?” mingyu asks rhetorically, his body language changing to something more stiff. “what is he doing here?”

“good question. i certainly didn’t invite him, but the guy at the front gate probably told him i was home. fuck — you have to hide.”

“hide? why?”

because the detective thinks you still hate mingyu, so seeing him here would make your story hardly plausible. “because he can’t see you, obviously. get upstairs and stay there. i’ll distract him.” 

“are you sure?”

“yeah, so go!” you push him back with your hands on his chest, and he seems hesitant to leave you by yourself, but he eventually jogs up the stairs again to get out of sight.

the inspector smiles only as a formality. you do the same. you haven’t spoken to him since you indirectly accused him of being an asshole, a while before your father’s funeral.

“good evening. i hope i haven’t come at a bad time. may i come in?”

“i have to take a business call soon, actually, so another time would be—”

“i won’t be long. i assume you’d like to have an update on the investigation?”

well, fuck. he’s got you there, so you’re forced to let him in, but you don’t let him wonder and gesture for him to sit down in the living room, on the couch. you move to take the seat directly across from him to ensure his focus is on you, instead of on the huge staircase behind him.

“am i still at the top of your list?” you ask. when the man tries to find the right words to respond, you scoff, filling in the blanks. of course you still are. “but you have no evidence.” 

“it’s not about evidence — moreso the lack thereof. i’m stuck with two people who each have a solid motive, an alibi that’s far from foolproof, and an important tie to the victim. you cannot deny that.” 

“is this another interrogation? because this is all off-record.”

“not an interrogation. i was just wondering something – back when i spoke to you last, before your father’s funeral, i asked what you could tell me about kim mingyu, your father’s former associate.” hearing him say his name makes you anxious, yet you pull every possible muscle to hide it. “you spoke of him as if he were the devil himself. you clearly hated him, perhaps more than you hated your father.”

“and?”

he pulls something from the inside of his jacket, and you discover they’re a few candids, photos taken of you with mingyu while out in the city. well, that’s just fucking great. you’re gonna have to make use of your top-notch acting skills here.

“i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me asking why you’re suddenly seeing someone you claim to hate as much as you do.”

the blankness of your face dissolves as you adapt a more playful and sassy persona. “you came all the way to my home for this? a few photos?”

“a few photos of my two main suspects together for a reason i cannot think of, yes.”

“you can’t think of a single thing? really? no offense, but i was under the impression you were at least a little clever.”

the man stares at you as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. that can only mean one thing – he’s falling for your act.

what an idiot.

you lean forward in your place, the dry smile remaining on your face. “i fucked him. several times, actually.”

he narrows his eyes at your statement. “i thought you told me you hated him.”

“oh, i do. but a good hate-fuck is the best way to release some frustration. you should try it sometime.” the sound of your voice is monotonous as you utter the words in one go.

“i’ll keep it in mind.” he sarcastically responds with a fake smile, and you copy his body language, pleased to see you’ve made him somewhat uncomfortable.

he clearly wants to change the subject, but you don’t feel like continuing this conversation any longer. “if you’ll excuse me, i really have more pressing matters, so i trust you can see yourself out.”

the inspector huffs a bit, but he knows better than to overstay his welcome. he wordlessly allows you to let you walk him to the door before turning around. “i hope you know who you’re dealing with. not everyone is who they say they are.”

leaving you confused, he looks at you a moment, proceeding to walk out your front door, after which you close it. did he know more than he was willing to let on? what a strange visit.

when you finally decide to turn around, you see mingyu standing in the middle of the stairs, looking a little baffled, at which you roll your eyes.

“why would you tell him that?”

“would you have preferred it if i told him the truth?”

“would that be so bad?”

you scoff, passing him on the staircase. “see, this is what i mean when i say you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

mingyu follows you back up to the lounge. “i’m just saying — maybe it’d make us look less suspicious.”

“it’d do the opposite, gyu. trust me.”

“okay. fine. but out of all the things you could’ve said, why that?”

“well, it made him uncomfortable, making it easier to get him to leave early. and, well… you know what you look like.”

the last sentence really grabs his attention.

“what i look like?” he repeats, knowing damn well what you’re getting at, but he’s eager to hear you spell it out for him.

“well, you’re somewhat good-looking. it’s one of your few strong points, actually.”

“so you think i’m hot?”

“didn’t quite say that.”

“no, but you implied it.”

“not really. you may be conventionally handsome, gyu, but attraction is a whole different thing.”

“oh, c’mon. admit it. i’m willing to, so…”

“do i need to remind you i said we’d keep things professional? which you agreed to.”

“god, you’re so tough.”

“part of my charm. maybe that’s why you like me so much.”

“i never said i liked you.”

“no, you didn’t have to.” you scoff, laughing at him, and mingyu feels the corners of his lips curling up — because you’re right.

then, as you plop down on the seats in the lounge again, you sigh as you look at the papers scattered across the table.

“you know, it’s been weeks, and we still haven’t got the slightest clue who’s the killer,” you frown, fingers resting on your collarbone, “and if i’m being honest, i doubt we ever will.”

mingyu briefly narrows his eyes at you, proceeding to take his laptop out of his bag. you watch curiously when he silently types away at his keyboard, then turning the device around and clicking on the play button.

suddenly you hear your own voice, and the words — you said those during the interrogations. how the hell did he get his hands on those recordings?

he seems to be able to read your mind. “i’ve got a contact in the force. he sent me the sorted files of everyone who was interrogated. we should probably listen to them, right? after all, we know more about the situation than the detectives.”

blinking a few times, you shrug and nod in agreement, so he increases the volume and presses the button again.

the following two and a half hours are spent listening to the recordings and taking notes of important things. you’re only halfway through them, but doing this the whole time really sucks you dry of energy.

at a certain point, you press the pause button and get up from your seat, moving to the liquor cabinet a few meters away. “you like a good whiskey, right?”

“yeah. how’d you know?”

“i observe and listen. that, and i heard you say it to wonwoo one time.”

he chuckles at your words, watching you take the bottle with two glasses and set it down on the table.

once you’ve poured the liquid into the glass, he takes what you offer him and down it in one go, after which you give him a judgemental stare. “seriously?”

“sorry. had a rough day.”

your gaze softens, and you pour him a second glass as he holds it out. “why?”

“i just… haven’t been feeling great lately. not really sure why.”

well, that’s interesting. “your conscience eating away at you?”

his eyes widen an uncharacteristical amount, and your face is blank for a few moments until you crack a smile. he laughs it off, squeezing his hands together, which you take notice of.

“guess you could say that. no, i don’t know. my sister’s been stressed and she won’t tell me why, which is odd ‘cause she always comes to me — and my mother’s been overworking herself, and i’m worried for her.”

pursing your lips together, you cast your eyes down for a moment.

for some reason, you feel a sense of repulsiveness whenever mingyu speaks of his family like that. as if it’s a reminder of what you didn’t have.

but you don’t show it.

“sounds tough.” you reply, not intending to sound distant — you just find it difficult to know what to say.

what you fail to recognize is that mingyu sees it. he sees your struggle and the emotions you think are so deeply hidden underneath the surface. they actually are, to be honest, but he’s come to know you and with that the way you hold yourself. and he’s suddenly able to read you better.

you’re made of sharp edges only — broken glass on all sides.

he takes another sip of his drink. you down yours in one go.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

mingyu’s eyes curiously follow your every move, the alcohol in his system making him bolder. “how are you holding up?”

“me? ‘m fine. why do you ask?”

“i think mostly ‘cause i’ve asked you a lot of questions, but not that one.”

the words make you silent for a moment, and you let out a knowing sigh when you realize what he’s getting at. “i told you i was glad he died, gyu.”

“i know. but even if you are, you can still find it difficult to deal with.”

you inhale and exhale slowly, leaning back against the wall for a moment, staring into nothing. “i’m not sad that he’s gone. i never will be. but there’s things i wanted to ask him.”

when you don’t continue, he asks you to. “what things?”

“things about my youth, my mother… hell, maybe even about you.” you shrug, chuckling for a brief moment, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. “but i think, mostly, i’d ask if he saw himself in me.”

mingyu is intrigued by your answer. “why would you wanna know that?”

you shrug, your tiredness contributing to you opening up. “because maybe i’d hear the answer i want to hear, and not the one i currently have. my worst nightmare has always been to turn into him.”

“you won’t be like him.” he tries to tell you, but you shake your head.

“i already am. i hated him to the bone, and yet i act like him, sound like him, handle things like him — because he taught me everything i know. at the end of the day, i am my father’s daughter. there’s no changing that.”

“you’re not a bad person. he was.”

“how would you know? he was nice to you. stand-offish, probably, but nice.”

“you don’t think i had an idea of what kind of person he was? i cared for him, but i knew he could be harsh. i caught some bits and pieces when he… yelled at you after our high school graduation.”

you have an almost visceral reaction as he mentions the incident. your father had yelled at you after the graduation, because the best student of your class got a prize on the big podium, and it wasn’t you. and that as a result made your father angry, because being in the top five wasn’t enough — because it should’ve been you.

it was always supposed to be you.

“why did you even want to be around him at all? if you knew how much of an asshole he was all this time.”

mingyu stares at the wall for a few seconds when he thinks about it. “he came into my life when i needed it the most. but looking back, i feel guilty. i shouldn’t have cared for someone like that.”

“like what?”

“someone that cruel. he didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, not in any way.”

“can only good people be loved?” you ask in return, and he seems positively surprised at your question.

“you’d find love for a bad person?”

“mingyu.” you say his name in a brief chuckle, and it steals his breath away. “do you think you have that much of a choice over who we love? we don’t. that’s what makes it so complicated.”

he seems to grow increasingly stressed with each thing you say, much to your surprise. “but would you want to love someone like that?”

looking away from him for a moment, you think his words over. “if that person was good to me, and had the same values… yeah, i would. trust me, the few people i care about are no saints, and yet i’d go to hell and back for them.”

“am i on that list too?”

you meet his eyes, and his expression is so beautifully genuine, full of raw emotion you’ve never seen him show before. it’s then that it finally hits you — kim mingyu actually cares about you.

the worst thing is that you just might care about him, too.

so you gently smile at him with a light shrug of your shoulders. “maybe.”

he reciprocates it, his brown eyes blown wide as he gazes at you. “i’m glad. you’re on my list too, y’know.”

“am i?” you tease, and he nods cheerfully, happy to have verbalized his appreciation for you. “well, i didn’t really see it coming, that’s for sure.”

your words bring mingyu’s thoughts back to the death of your father, the rift you accused him of causing between the two of you. a wave of guilt comes flooding in once more.

“look, i… i know you may not believe me, but i genuinely feel sorry for what happened. for taking something from you. despite the things i saw and heard, i really was too stupid to see that your dad treated you as badly as he did.”

staring him right in the eye, you don’t fail to catch the earnestness in them. “it’s alright. you’re not half as much to blame as i’ve tried to make myself believe you were.”

the words intrigue him. “how come?”

swallowing the lump in your throat, you press your lips together. “because he didn’t care about me. he never did. maybe he was different before my mother died, maybe he wasn’t. i wouldn’t know.”

mingyu tries to hold his ground as he watches you get emotional. he remains quiet in his spot next to you.

“can i tell you something?” your voice is hesitant and almost inaudible, like a child who’s trying to tell their parent they did something wrong.

when he silently nods, you continue.

“you wanted to know why i hated you, right? well, i...” you pause in an attempt to find the right words, “i felt invisible to my father. like i didn’t matter — i was treated like nothing more than a tool to improve his businesses. but you... he treated you like a son. like a person. and i spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong and you did right, and i just... i didn’t get it. i still don’t. but whatever it was, i was jealous that you had it and i didn’t. and everyone loved you and praised you, be it our friends or their parents. everyone in our social circle. from my point of view, no one had ever uttered a single bad word about you, and then when my father began to take a liking towards you as well... i just hated you. you were my perfect scapegoat.”

the guilt on his face is clear as day. when he parts his lips, you already know he wants to apologize again, but you shake your head, speaking up first.

because you don’t hate him anymore.

“mingyu, there was nothing for you to take away from me to begin with. long before you were even present in his life, he didn’t care for me either.” with the corners of your lips turned down, you continue. “i did everything he asked. perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect social life. but he didn’t care. it’s not often i say people have no heart, but he just… he just didn’t have one. for his job, perhaps, for his business partners — but not for anyone outside of his work. i just didn’t think that would go for his own child, too.”

you reach for your forehead, trying to take his attention away from your face, running your hand through your hair while blinking your tears away. why are you telling him all this?

but it just feels so good to finally get it all out.

“you did the best you could.” he tells you, and you nod with watery eyes.

“i did. and somehow, none of it mattered.”

when the first heavy sob leaves you, you try to hold it back, not wanting him to see you break down.

he doesn’t let you. he moves to sit next to you and takes you into his arms, and for the first time in however long, you let yourself break. the tears are your acknowledgement of the pain it has caused you over the years, the damage that will never quite heal and always follow you wherever you go.

you’re not sure why you’re falling apart this easily. you hardly ever cry anymore, perhaps a few times a year, and you usually feel strong enough to hold it all back when you’re in front of others, but this time — this time, you just can’t.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s okay. you’re alright. he’s gone now.” he whispers into your ear as comfort. “but you’re not alone. not anymore.”

his heart shatters when he internally makes the comparison between the loving family he grew up in and the lonely, broken family you could hardly call home.

“why wasn’t i enough? why didn’t he like me?” you mutter to yourself, having lost control as you cry into mingyu’s neck, clinging onto his body as your chest aches.

“because he couldn’t. he didn’t have it in him to care for anyone. that says more about him than it does about you.” he responds, gently stroking your hair, even pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel… cared for. like you truly matter to someone.

something that feels scary, perhaps even strange, but good.

mingyu’s big arms cage you into his hold, a comforting feeling. to be honest, you wish you could stay with him like this for the whole night. maybe even longer than that.

he rubs your back, feeling the pain in your chest as if it were his own. he’d take all of it if he could. you were damaged in a way that no one deserves, and seeing how much it still affects you and most likely will in the long term, that tears him apart.

the heavy ache in your chest subsides, yet you still cling onto him. you feel the most at ease you’ve ever been with anyone.

“thank you.” you mumble, giving him a tight hug with you wrapping your arms around him ‘till he’s almost suffocating. “i needed that.”

“anytime.”

you eventually finally come down from your breakdown, body slightly twitching as the last tears silently roll down your cheeks.

with your head in his lap, you lay on your side, closing your eyes for a while as the pain in your chest slowly subsides. he’s still rubbing at your clothed skin, and you’re curious if he’s aware it does wonders for calming you down.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you, gyu. after the funeral.” you speak up, voice still raspy. “i was wrong about you.”

mingyu feels his throat tighten up. “it’s okay. i was wrong about you, too. we have more in common than i initially thought we did.”

you wipe your tears away and move to sit upright, finally feeling confident enough to look him in the eye again. “like what?”

both of you are tired. everything that’s happened the past weeks has definitely been causing some sleepless nights for both of you, and with all the alcohol and emotions running high, you’re both feeling a tad drowsy.

he runs a hand through his dark locks. “this part of society — i think it’s exhausting, a lot of the time. full of noise, small talk that’s supposed to hide how cold half these people are, social pressure, all of that. but here, at home, it’s quiet. maybe a little too quiet. the thing is, i have my friends and family that i care about more than anyone else, but i still feel… hollow. like i’m missing something.”

you nod at him. “you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.”

“yeah.” he sighs. “do you feel it too?”

“well, i may not have a family, but i have my friends. and they mean so much to me, and i can talk to them if i need to, but… yeah. i feel it too.”

he wonders if you feel the same connection that he’s feeling right now. he’s drawn to you like a damn magnet.

mingyu already knows he’s a goner when he gently puts his hand on your cheek. he feels electrified by your presence, your voice, even the way you look at him.

he needs you.

“maybe we can be lonely together.”

his words are enough for your breath to hitch in your throat. you doubt you’ve ever wanted to have someone as much as you do now.

and so you cross a line you never thought you would and press your lips to his, desperately needing his touch.

the kiss is harsh but slow, as if you’re aching to taste eachother. his hand makes its way to the back of your head, the other on your back to pull you closer to him.

his heart might as well be lurching out of his chest. god, he feels that excitement and nervousness as if he were his teenage self sharing a first kiss with his crush — yet whatever feeling is clouding his mind is something darker and deeper, something that transcends what he can describe with words.

he kisses you like his life depends on it. once you’ve both pulled back to get some air, looking the other straight in the eye, it’s like you’re silently admitting that the relationship you share is more than just being partners.

it’s something that comes alarmingly close to love.

the moment is harshly interrupted when his phone rings. he blinks a few times before rolling his eyes at the timing, as he’s still half on top of you.

you can do nothing but wait underneath him as he takes the call, and when he closes his eyes and releases a sigh, you know it’s not positive.

“alright, thank you.” he says before hanging up, turning his focus to you. “the alarm at my apartment in the city was triggered. i gotta check it out, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you mutter out, suddenly unsure of how to talk to him now that you’ve crossed the line that you have.

but mingyu is much more straightforward. his gaze is warm and intense as it finds your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with you. so he shows you that.

just when your lips are about to touch again, he smirks, gently holding your chin. “i’ll be back for this.”

with those words, he catches his breath and gets up from the couch, after which he jogs down the stairs, and half a minute later, you hear the front doors open and close.

the sound allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding.

what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

READ PART TWO HERE

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[quadrantadvisor]

Sokka's character arc is so interesting to me because, as much as Avatar is a show that celebrates tradition and culture, Sokka doesn't begin to thrive until he starts to travel and learn from different kinds of people. He actually parallels Zuko in that way; they both begin with a closeminded perspective, and have to spend a lot of time being exposed to new ideas to realize their own potential. Zuko's arc is so much more drastic, though, whereas the way Sokka changes is almost subtle.

Crucially, he never lets go of his roots. Sokka is a warrior and a hunter and a tracker, and those skills are the base on which he builds his abilities as an tactician and inventor and politician. But Sokka needed to leave home and let go of the ego that his culture encouraged before he could accomplish any of that. He needed to learn to acknowledge women as warriors, and respect bending as an art, and think of the fire nation as people instead of monsters. He needed to meet other people who could help support and nurture his strengths like Piandao and the inventor. Sokka trades pride for humility, and then builds himself back up to real, earned confidence. It's kind of incredible to see. Just compare how stiff and unhappy he is in the first episodes to how easy and free he seems late in the series.

And after everything he's learned, I really can't imagine the Sokka at the end of the series just, going home and taking care of his tribe again. I think that he would do it, if they needed him to, but that environment would be almost stifling to him. I imagine a Sokka who travels, meets new and interesting people, uses his big whirring brain to solve problems. But who, of course, always has a familiar place to go back to when he needs it.

[mugentakeda]

i saw fanart for this age old unfinished fic and was so interested by the premise that i simply HAD to give the concept my own spin.... Ill put my notes under the cut cus it got kinda long lol

-FIRST OF ALL. i headcanon lu ten as a powerful firebender (like, lightning bending powerful. not an expert at it yet, but can generate it at will. only recently picked it up before the siege.) that can Also use a weapon. he picked it up for funsies and ended up taking it seriously and then excelling. he learned under piandao and in turn later introduced him to zuko. His weapon that he made with piandao was a more traditional jogekama yari, which he had on him when he was captured. long feng destroyed it and had a new jogekama yari made for lu ten in a more sleek earth kingdom style, with longer and more savage blades. **ALSO: lu tens jogekama yari is based on saras yari from samurai champloo!!!! i just made the side blades curved in opposite directions (which made it a jogekama instead of saras type of yari) -lu ten does not interact with the other agents. whether brainwashed or amnesic in this, hes not even one of the secret police that go around arresting people. hes a lone agent that works Directly under long feng and is more of an assassin and spy thats permitted in and out of ba sing se for the missions and jobs long feng sends him on, unlike the rest of the agents. as a gift for his (made up) birthday, long feng gave him a hand carved stone earring. Yes, its a tracker. yes, lu ten knows that. No, he doesn't care and wears it anyway. his boss can do what he wants, and he trusts his boss with his life (lol). the other dai li agents know of lu tens existence, less have seen him with their own eyes, none are permitted to speak to him if they do. they dont know hes a "nonbender". -i havent decided on whether or not i want lu ten brainwashed in this or simply amnesic?? it would be neat if he was the brainwash soft launch since the ba sing se conspiracy brainwashing only started After the siege. lu ten is a firebender, has that fn royalty brand iron willpower, so youd think thats hard to brainwash especially if he was the soft launch, but if long feng kept up the sessions regularly over the course of 6-ish years (and as their brainwashing techniques improved), id doubt it would rub off. its a seven layer salad of brainwashing. and even if he was amnesic rather than brainwashed, theyd still need to do some adjustments in lu tens head to TOTALLY wipe out any idea of firebending, on top of regular chi blocking. -as for the amnesic part, i read a theory that introduced the idea that lu ten being killed was an inside job orchestrated by ozai. which i dont think would be canon, but it would be pretty cool?? like especially considering how FAST he jumped on azulon about heirs. very suspicious indeed. and all too convenient: have a group of moles set in irohs army, once lu ten moves out away from iroh then corner him, kill him, make it look like the earth army did it, sneak back to the fire nation, ozai gets the crown. easy as pie. -and to combine one of MY OWN aus with the above, aka the one where zhao and lu ten were both taught together under jeong jeong, the first time that zhao REALLY made a big move into ozais pocket was offering to be the head mole in irohs army. it made perfect sense to ozai, and he gladly sent zhao on his way- him being close rivals with him will catch him off guard and make the job far easier. and if zhao succeeds, and KEEPS succeeding, when ozai undoubtedly snatches the crown, he will grant zhao all the rewards and titles he could ever want until the cows come home. snazzy deal.

so whichever one of those you guys find cooler will be the one i go with because frankly both of them have the same amount of fun angst and drama idk......................

-as for lu tens face and arm, i base that off how i think lu ten died, not even gna lie. in the case where he is dead i think half his skull got crushed open and his arm was blown right off from the bicep. the stitches are just for aesthetic purposes. i was inspired by how scars are drawn in one piece, and because they give a "frankensteins monster" type look, which i found fitting, since this is a 'came back wrong' trope/winter soldier-esque au. the bandages covering his face was a suggestion from an anxious long feng to hide his face in public, while the ba sing se conspiracy was still fresh and the citizens might recognize the spawn of the dragon of the west if they looked long enough.

-as for lu ten and long fengs relationship, i havent thought about it enough, but im definitely imagining smthn along the lines of "you were always working for me, i picked you up and trained you when you had nothing, you owe me your life and loyalty", mixed with some gentle stockholm syndrome. like, a combination of "the king and his most loyal guard dog", a very strange psuedo father-son relationship??? (which was honestly accidental on long fengs part. but he kept it up because he found the irony amusing. yes he will try and rub that in irohs face. yes iroh will beat his skull in for it. its chill)

-this has nothing to do with the au but please see iroh and zukos body language in the third panel of the comic... i love to portray them as protective of each other... zukos blade placed before iroh, irohs arm switching from shoulder to shoulder as zuko turns, always placed between him and whatever is approaching... Heurghhh (GRIPS HEAD

[remotepixel]

Hi! I love your writing!!! Is it okay if I request yandere plantonic Tony stark for the reader and Peter Parker who are siblings? Like Peter is Tony's intern and then he one days meets the reader at like a dance recital or something. Sorry if this is too specific.

Hi!!! I'm so happy you like my writing and thank you for requesting! Don't worry about being too specific :)

TW: yandere themes

-Tony is a jealous person, so he doesn’t really like how happy Peter is when rambling about you during the lab sessions - blood-related or not, Tony wants the attention on himself. However, he’s able to get a rough picture of you thanks to all the information being thrown at him, and, despite his possessiveness, he is very slightly inclined to like you, even if it’s just due to Peter.

-It wasn’t until Peter was practically begged him to come and watch your dance recital though did he properly meet you. You were sweet, and watching you interact with your brother, who he was already viewing as his own kid, brought up the same parental instincts.

-If you share the same intelligence, he’d offer you a place at Starks Industries as well. It means he can keep you safely in his lab, right to him, and gives him a solid way to bond with you. Plus, as much as he won’t admit to his selfishness, it does keep you dependant on him - after all it’s a sure-fire way to get recommend to a good college, and a future job at SI; you wouldn’t want to go against him if it could mean this much.

-If not or your interests lay outside of tech (e.g. dance), he’ll be a bit disappointed, but otherwise invest in making sure you get the best opportunities through his various networkers and whatever else you need to achieve those dreams.

-He feels out of his depth whenever he tries talking to you about it. Sure, he spent hours educating himself and could probably act like he understands, but he doesn’t like not knowing things, or feeling unsure of himself. It won’t be until you confirm he’s correct or compliment him for knowing so much that he feels more comfortable, practically preening under your gaze (he’ll immediately get flustered if he’s wrong though).

-It’d be a lot easier if he could just talk about the mechanisms of his new suit or impress you with his amazing ideas involving complex physics equations he knows at least Peter would love to hear about.

-Though, if it’s for you, he’d happily sit and watch your every competition. He’d probably record it too, adding it to his ever-growing folder, and brag about how talented his kid you are (he gets irritated if they seem too interested; he doesn’t want anyone stealing you away).

-His biggest form of showing he cares is gift-giving. He can’t give you a new suit or webshooters to win your favour, so it’d be more personalised based on what you like (e.g. a show or hobby). As well as that, he’s giving you a stupid - maybe a bit mean - nickname. It’s in his blood to do so, he won’t apologize (he would. One tear and he’s backpedalling like crazy).

-He’s already gone through the motions of putting trackers and overprotective security measures on Peter, so it’s pretty easy when he does it for you. Obviously he doesn’t need to stress about you getting stabbed in alleyways unlike a certain spider, but his paranoia still remains.

-He likes keeping logs on you - where you are, with who - just in case he needs to swoop in. Since he’s your brother’s boss (and you probably heard all about his habits from Peter before anyways) you probably shrug it off, thinking he’s just trying to keep you safe due to your high-profile connections rather than out of an obsessive need.

-In general, it’d be hard to get away from him or his tendencies. You don’t want to upset Peter (who’s likely still slightly blinded by his hero worship) so you go along with it as well. Even if you do somewhat ignore Tony , he would likely bring it up in a lab session, leading to Peter bringing it up to you, and just making it the same situation as before.

[witchygirlgray333]

Journal prompts / ideas

Poems (either ones you've written or just ones you enjoy or connect with)

Book review

Film review

Write about your day

Collage

Vision board

Habit tracker

Calendar page

Notes from something you're learning

Quotes you like

Draw some outfits you like

Search up creative writing prompts and do those

Meditate and write down your thoughts before / during / after (I don't do this everytime or sometimes I'll only write afterwards but when I write before, during and after it's always really interesting to read back on and see how much has changed)

Stickerbomb page

Films to watch

Books to read

Wishlist

Bucket list

Highlight of the day (I like to have a page in my journal where I write a short sentence of my favourite thing that happened that day, it's nice to look back on and it's nice especially for days when I'm not feeling well enough to do a longer entry)

Gratitude list

Random thoughts

Drawings and sketches (I'm not even good at drawing but I love drawing or sketching in my journals and just expressing myself)

This one is more for chronically ill people but making notes for doctor / hospital appointments which helps so much! I have severe memory loss so a lot of the time I'll turn up to an appointment and have totally forgotten about anything I'd hoped to say so this has been a total lifesaver

Along with what I said in my last point about living with severe memory loss my whole journal works towards helping me deal with living with the memory loss. I'll probably do another post soon about more in depth ideas for journaling to help life with memory loss but I write down SO MUCH. I've got to do lists, a calendar page, my night routine (I'll also have my morning routine written down once I've actually worked one out!), things I need to do everyday (such as brushing my teeth, washing my face etc), contact info for people I'm close to, labelled photos of my loved ones (it can be really scary when I don't recognise people so having these pages really help), a list of things I can do throughout the day (I'm on bedrest but having a list of things that I enjoy doing written down is a nice reminder, some of the things on the list at the moment are make tiktok videos, do makeup, watch a movie or tv show, journal, scrapbook etc)

[dumplinsiims]

Sims Story Board - Notion Template

If you guys are anything like me... your mind is a mess! Full of ideas but in full chaos. I've been working on getting more organized in my thoughts and in planning for my sims stories! I was recommended to use Notion to help. Notion has a tonnn of templates that are free to use but I couldn't find one that fit just right for what I wanted to use it for and also... not be so hard to use. SO ... here we are I created one lol

This template features:

Main Hub: Take a brief overlook of your sims story or save file and create the vibe for it.

Characters Bios: Go into full detail about your sim. Creating a full profile and personality for them including: bucketlist, playlist, pinterest board, and all of their traits. Create full lore with their family members, love interest, and even their enemies.

Memories: A place to capture and write about key moments in this story/save file.

Challenge Tracker: If you are playing a challenge (ex. Legacy challenge, Rags to Riches, etc) You can list out all the goals and milestones here and check them off as you go as a way to track your progress.

(All images, playlist, links, and categories can be changed and swapped out to whatever you would like to fill the space. This is just a simple SUGGESTION/template to get you started! Any categories you do not want to use can be deleted.)

I suggest duplicating this template before editing it so you can use for multiple save files or stories. 🤍 I really hope you guys enjoy and get plenty of use out of this template! I'd loveeeee to see how you use it and fill it out with your sims! Send me picssss or tag me! (yall know I'm nosey lol)

Notion is free to use.

You can find the link to this template here.🤍

[ppnuggie]

　　　　　　MTMTE x gn reader

　　　　『　rodimus ,, ultra magnus ,, chromedome ,, rewind ,, megatron ,, whirl ,, tailgate ,, swerve ,, cyclonus ,, first aid ,, ratchet ,, drift ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> christmas on the lost light

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack

　　— sorry i havent been uploading as much 😭💔 ive been busy with work and school ,, but im on christmas break so hopefully ill be able to get through the few requests i have sitting in my inbox rn and reopen requests :(( ima try to start uploading more now as much as i can ❤️ heres a little something for christmas though ! hope you all enjoy christmas this year <3

• it was natural for the bots aboard to be interested in human customs ,, having lived in a war most their life . death and violence were something they were quite used to experiencing ,, never really having the time to experience anything outside of the horrors of war itself .

• swerve was one of the few main bots that pestered you often about human holidays . cybertronians didn't celebrate much ,, unless they were a group of autobots who just gave some decepticons a what-for .

• then again ,, swerve usually asked many questions regarding things on earth and what humans do . sometimes you humored him ,, sometimes you told little lies ,, like if you clapped three times in a mall it would be a sign that a tiger was loose . it was quite fun to put silly nonsense in that processor of his at times .

• though when it came to christmas he would not leave you alone . whether you celebrated it or not ,, you still explained the custom in general to him . how old saint nicholas would mosey on down the chimney ,, eat the cookies and drink the milk left out for him ,, and leave presents under the tree lit well and adorned with ornaments .

• you even pulled up the santa tracker for swerve ,, showing him where santa would go and be ,, how on christmas eve he would be flying around with his reindeer and leave presents

• hearing all of this intrigued chromedome and rewind ,, as well as tailgate and whirl . cyclonus didn't understand the hype and belief of having an old random man leave gifts in your house and eat your food even if left out specifically him . tailgate was thrilled though ,, a funny little old man leaving him gifts seemed so heavenly to him . chromedome and rewind ,, however ,, had different opinions . rewind was interested in this human holiday ,, whilst chromedome shared the same opinion as cyclonus . how were you sure this 'santa' guy wasnt gonna rob you ? and when you were sleeping nonetheless .

• rodimus already knew of this tradition ,, as did ratchet and ultra magnus . rodimus was quite ecstatic at the idea of having a christmas party ,, watching christmas movies and sipping on energon . maybe he could even have you sit on his lap ,, all cozy in those soft blankets and sippin on your own mug of hot chocolate .

• ratchet couldnt care less ,, grumbling something about how 'you humans and your holidays and customs' . though he definitely didnt deny the offer of going to this christmas party ,, it was nice to spend some time that didn't involve life threatening situations for once .

• ultra magnus ,, on the other hand ,, was quite picky about how the christmas party should be set up . he even tried to ban home alone ,, saying he didnt want rodimus to get any ideas from the traps in the movie . the last thing he needed was to end up in one the next day . though ,, the many outweigh the few ,, and so home alone was allowed in the movie marathon .

• now when you told him about the grinch ,, he wasnt sure if you were mocking him by saying it was an actual movie or if he should be concerned for what this dr.seuss guy was drawing . i mean ,, have you seen how hairy the grinch is ? or how the whos in whoville are shaped ? pointy noses and all ,, it was quite new to magnus .

• megatron ,, who overheard everything ,, already knew he wasnt going to be wanted at the party . it made sense ,, his past and everything he's done to earth and its people . though when you asked him to come ,, that you personally wanted him there ,, he swore he felt his spark stop for a second . he only gave a nod ,, whilst ravage bickered to him that night in his habsuite .

• whirl ,, to say the least ,, was prepared to fight santa . he was watching the santa tracker ,, waiting for the jolly fellow to pop up so whirl could fly down and bring out the big guns ( that brainstorm recently made ,, not yet tested out or put through a test trial so lord knows what may go wrong) . magnus almost had to throw him in the brig if he couldnt contain his sudden rage and fury for the old man .

• first aid was somewhat interested ,, never having celebrated a holiday before . it would be nice ,, getting together and doing nothing but watching movies all day . he hadnt seen movies from earth that much either ,, besides a few fast n furious ones here and there . needless to say ,, he was somewhat concerned for humans need to trash cars . he cringed a little on the inside ,, watching those perfectly good cars blow up . it was like a horror movie but for cybertronians .

• during the movie marathon ,, whirl tried to sneak violent night and black christmas in ,, saying they were also christmas movies and that they should watch them . magnus ended up throwing them out ,, saying no one really felt like seeing dying people during this one time of peace .

• drift enjoyed the nightmare before christmas ,, the claymation alone was enough to captivate him . then the designs of the characters ,, the music and songs ,, even jack's childlike wonder for christmas matched his own (in a few ways) . during that movie you sat with him ,, sharing a few facts about the movie itself . how long it took to make and how hard it is to do claymation movies .

• during the polar express you stayed with rewind and chromedome ,, snuggling in between the two and sippin on your hot chocolate . rewind enjoyed watching the train on the ice whilst chromedome puffed about how he coulda easily done that himself and saved everyone . you only rolled your eyes ,, muttering out a sure as you fought back a smile .

• during a break in between the movies you noticed megatron ,, standing awkwardly in the corner with his own cube of fools energon in servo . you smiled at the bot ,, walking up to him and having a small conversation with him . you didnt honestly think he’d show up ,, but youre glad he did . he let you sit with him during one of the movies ,, bonding well with the giant bot .

• he was quite warm ,, heat coming from off his body as you huddled close to him . he tucked his servo around you ,, worried you may fall off . for a few moments during the movie you swore you saw him smile at some of the corniest parts ,, or chuckle softly at some of the dumbest jokes .

• you took turns ,, switching between bots during different movies . you would sit in their laps ,, explain little things you liked about the movie playing and share a few things of your own childhood during this time of the year .

• it was nice ,, to say the least . having time to the bots ,, doing things that reminded you of home . it wasnt the same ,, but it was the thought that counted . spending time with them peacefully was more than enough for you ,, and definitely more than you could ask for this christmas .

[itsabouttimex2]

Hello! Can I order a medium Syntax Yandere Alphabet with a side of small fries and a large Dr. Pepper?

(Order up! Come get y’all’s juice!)

Yandere Alphabet: Syntax

(The Let’s Start Over Mei chatbot is now up! And the link might not be working? I’m trying to figure that out.)

Authority: Do they see themselves as above their obsession?

Yes. Not to the degree that, say… Red Son or the Lady Bone Demon do, but he’s definitely got enough of an ego to at least make the idea of beings “equals” hard to achieve.

He’s not going to “subjugate” or try to “break” you, though- Syntax views you as a lesser person, not a lesser being.

Bread: Can they cook or bake? Is Y/N responsible for their own food?

I can’t really see Syntax as the sort of guy who could cook- and even if he could, I doubt that he would want to. He’s not the sort to dirty his hands directly for even a menial task- I imagine he settles for takeout most of the time- but allows you free rein to the kitchen (if one is available) and all cooking devices therein.

If you’re particularly young, cooking might be a sort of “chore” to “keep your hands busy”. (Really, it’s usually just him sending you out of a room before he one or his fellow spiders does something unsuitable for young eyes.)

Cruentus- How do they respond to Y/N being hurt, both slightly and severely?

Syntax… is not the sort that I imagine is good with blood. He just doesn’t seem the type. He’ll pull up a list of instructions for tending minor wounds- wash with mild soap and lukewarm water, pat the area dry, apply bandages, etc- and that he could manage.

For anything serious, he’s kidnapping a doctor- who will absolutely be getting implanted with spider venom and inducted once he’s done with your treatment.

Disengage- What’s their response to being ignored?

Syntax ignores you right back- and he’s much better at it than you are. He’ll just settle in for a lengthy project and happily work the days away until you crack and come crawling back for his attention.

Enclosure: Where do they keep Y/N?

Under the sewers, locked up nice and tight in a monitored room. It’s surprisingly comfy, all things considered- there’s even a few devices to keep you distracted when Syntax is out.

Facade: Are they good at hiding their true intentions?

There’s a split here- Syntax would be very good at hiding his emotions… if he didn’t like getting under your skin and toying around with your feelings. It’s not unlikely for the man to give himself away through sheer bragging- if you someone manage to miss all the cameras he’s hidden through your house, the man will start operating them to flail around just for the sake of getting your attention.

Garment: Do they take control of Y/N’s clothes?

No, he does not. Syntax might provide some warmer clothing for life in a cavernous, dripping sewer… but doesn’t see the need to outright flip your wardrobe. He does insert a miniature tracker into every last piece of clothing you have, though.

Handicap: How do they handle Y/N being or becoming disabled?

Assuming your disability is physical, Syntax will personally design your aids with his own two hands, and go out of his way to source them. He’ll also install a custom alarm reminding you to take your medicine.

Intertwine: How physical are they? Do they enjoy skinship and touch?

No. Syntax doesn’t care for physical affection of any kind- but might grow tired enough to lean his head on your shoulder here and there.

Jaunt: Are they willing to take Y/N out? Where do they go?

If you’ve been sufficiently “well-behaved”, he might risk a run to the city to scope out potential materials and pieces for his projects… after stealthing an electrified bracelet onto your wrist. You’re probably so grateful for the sun’s warmth and the city’s fresh air that you don’t even think of running, though.

Kindness: What brings out the best in this yandere?

Shared hobbies and interests- if you and Syntax like the same thing, he’ll indulge in with you- not as equals, but as something that’s quite close.

Limitation: What holds them back? Work? Family obligations? Physical weakness?

Honestly? Nothing much. Syntax’s loyalty to his queen is something he easily juggles with the surveillance he performs on you. As long as he doesn’t start to shirk his duties, she’ll allow it.

Once he kidnaps you, she’s quite strict about him performing his previous responsibilities and receiving the same results as before- and again allows Syntax to “keep” you as long as he maintains his usefulness.

Morals: What lines are they not willing to cross?

Physical harm outside of minor electric shocks- he doesn’t see the need to get violent when webbing you up with his mechanical legs is far easier and less needlessly savage. He also won’t do anything that threatens the sanctity of your limbs or fingers- Syntax hardly wants to cripple you.

Nausea: Can they tend to an illness, or would they rely on a doctor?

No joke, I think he might genuinely resort to WebMD- at least before he does anything too drastic, like kidnapping a doctor or taking you to a hospital and holding the nurses hostage.

Obcordate: What reminds them of Y/N?

Arachnoid hatchlings. Syntax sees the little spiders that scuttle the lair, and thinks of you, of how he could easily make you a hybrid like himself. Oh, and pop-up ads of pathetically adorable animals in shelters.

Pacify: How do they comfort Y/N? Do they even bother trying?

He’s… not the greatest, admittedly. Syntax will probably run through the basic checklist of “everything that could be wrong” before moving into attempting comfort. “Have you ingested enough water? Eaten a proper meal? Taken your medication?”

And then after three confirmations from you, he has to muster up the world’s most awkward hug ever because he cares just enough to not want you to cry.

Queue: Do they have something of equal or greater importance to Y/N?

The loyalty inspired by his transformation ensures that the Spider Queen will always be the most important thing to him… but his feelings towards Y/N are more real.

Redemption: Could they grow out of their obsession and make amends with Y/N?

If the spider venom were ever purged from his system and Syntax was restored to his prior form? I imagine he’d be quite remorseful of his previous actions, and wish to make amends.

Sobriquet- What nicknames do for they have for their obsession?

Kilobyte- but a particularly young Y/N might get the moniker of Bit or Nibble.

Troop: How many people do they obsess over? Is that obsession spread equally?

Syntax would only ever have one person that he’d kindap, but maybe a few points of obsession. For all others, he’ll satiate those desires through surveillance alone.

Underdog: Who‘s on the yandere’s side? Would they help out?

Goliath is willing to lend a hand in the initial capture, and the Syntax might convince Huntsman to help retrieve an escaping Y/N… but aside from that, he’s on his own.

Vocalize: How do they justify their actions?

He doesn’t- aside from justifying his spying as “keeping an eye out for potential trouble”. The Spider Queen probably realizes that it’s a load of bull, but doesn’t bother trying to stop him- Syntax is doing his job, so why should she care about what he does with one little mortal?

White Whale: Why do they pursue Y/N, exactly?

I imagine that he admires an obsession for their technological abilities, and starts planting cameras in their house to steal blueprints from them- and then gets attached and starts getting really parasocial, then jumps straight off the deep end.

Xanthous: What do they really want?

Deep, deep inside? Syntax just wants someone to sympathize with. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s putting you through the things he went through- being taken by a spider, forced to lend a hand, then forcibly transmogrified.

He might not ever understand it, but you quell the bitter loneliness inside him.

Youth: How old is Y/N in comparison to them? Younger, same age, or older?

Given he’ll mostly likely pursue some kind of “rival” in tech, you’re probably around the same age, or even a little older. Not that he wouldn’t snatch up a promising young prodigy to forcibly mentor.

Zealous: Do they pursue Y/N doggedly, or are they more laidback and casual with their approach?

Extremely casual- he won’t sweat a few judgmental gazes from his clan or the terror you suffer as you rip down his cameras again and again.

Why bother hurrying you into captivity when all of your responses are so deliciously amusing?

Author’s Choice: Would Syntax modify Y/N with his Queen’s venom?

Yes… with caution. After making a few careful adjustments to one stray arachnoid drone, Syntax will sic the scuttling machine on you. He’s carefully set the process to be much less painful for you than it was for him, but there’s no this won’t end in at least a little screaming.

But when all is said, and all is past? He’s sure that the two of you will be something at least close to family.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

YEAH YANDERE XMEN LET'S GOOO

Anyways, I will look forward for any of your yan!x-men works. And I kinda hope for platonic mentor Scott Summers or Gambit(even if I don't see Gambit as a yandere it would be interesting to read about it)

𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐒…

!!! GN reader, dual-wielding yandere mentors, strict Scott, power abuse, manipulation, stalker Remy, no respect of privacy, the slightest bit of infantilism, I’m probably forgetting a lot cuz I’m really bad at warnings, pretty mild.

*Clutches my head like I’m taking psychic damage* AHHHHHHHH, THE VOICES!!! THE VOICES!!!! THEY’RE GIVING ME IDEAS!!!!

First off, you basically predicted one of my WIPs. Something about Scott’s base character just screams platonic yandere to me, and I probably couldn’t write a non-yandere fic about him if I tried. So!! Because I’ve already got a little something cooking with solo Scott, lemme give you the best of both worlds of your asks; yandere mentor Scott and Remy.

A dynamic like this would be completely uncoordinated. Their mentoring styles are polar opposites, and it doesn’t help that they can’t see eye to eye with each other on most things. So expect this to be a tug of war between what is essentially a strict dad and chill uncle. Scott will get done lecturing you about staying out late (he doesn’t want you dozing off and getting lazy during missions, that’s all!!), only for Remy to whisk you away on a late night patrol (with ice cream as a treat!!).

To fully understand what you’re dealing with here, let’s do a quick rundown on both of them on an individual level.

Scott: Overbearing as fuck. He might start off as harsh and borderline brutal, constantly singling you out and critiquing everything you do. Should anyone raise concerns over this, he’d be genuinely confused. He’s not treating you differently from the other X-Men!! You just need a little more tough love, that’s all!! He sees your potential and wants to bring it out of you so you’re ready for anything and everything!!

It would probably take a near-death experience on your end for him to finally soften up on you. He’s still strict as hell, don’t get me wrong, but at least he’s more encouraging than berating!! But now he keeps you glued to his side during missions. And doesn’t let you go on missions he’s not on. And only allows you to train with him. And starts getting more involved with your personal life. And basically keeps you on a tight leash with everything.

He definitely abuses his authority as field commander to get you to behave. Don’t wanna listen to him? Fine, you’re sitting out for the next couple of missions. What’s this? You think it’s unfair? If you won’t listen to him now, then what good are you in the field, huh? He’s only doing this to make you a better team player!! Now go to your room and think about what you’ve done.

Remy: Extremely hands off. The word “mentor” is used loosely when describing him, as he really doesn’t see himself as such. All he does is makes sure you don’t die on missions, gives you profound life lessons, then goes on to contradict that life lesson with some reckless move (text book example of a do as I say, not as I do kind of teacher). His laidback nature makes it easy to confide in him, and he’s always happy to lend an ear to his petit!

Meanwhile, his yandere side kind of runs counter to this. Yes, he’s extremely lax with you, but only because he knows where you are 24/7. There are trackers in all of your clothes so he can check in on you periodically. Not because he doesn’t trust you!! He really doesn’t give a shit what you’re up to as long as you’re not doing drugs or whatever. There’s just this nagging fear in the back of his mind that you could be in danger, and he wants to make sure he can save you in time. He also has a habit of snooping through your things; again, not because he doesn’t trust you, he’s just curious and has no sense of privacy when it comes to you (and also because he likes to leave behind little trinkets for you to find later).

While I don’t see very many situations where he resorts to this, it’s best to keep in mind that Remy’s a master manipulator. If you’re up to something he doesn’t particularly like — maybe you have a crush on someone he doesn’t deem worthy… which is just about everyone — he’ll easily talk you out of it, playing whatever card he feels necessary. There may be the slightest bit of infantilism (“you’re too young for mushy romance, petit!”), but nothing too heavy handed; he mostly does it to tease.

Okay, with that out of the way, let’s get back to their dynamic.

As said before, they don’t really work in tandem with each other. They just kinda coexist as your two mentors that constantly butt heads with each other. Scott sees Remy as a bad influence on you, and Remy basically does everything in his power to spite Scott. What’s this? Did mean ol’ Cyke lock you in your room? Good thing Gambit’s next lesson is to teach you how to pick locks (but that does not mean you can sneak out and do your own thing. Stay where Gambit can see you, damnit). It pisses Scott off to no end and Remy thinks it’s hilarious.

Now, there’s a very slim chance that they come to some sort of understanding. Sure, Scott has a stick up his ass and Remy is a bit reckless, but they at least share a common goal of keeping you safe. This is when they start (begrudgingly) working together, with Remy turning a blind eye whenever Scott oversteps his leadership role while Scott checks in with Remy for your current location. They’re absolutely not best buds with this setup, but they’ll at least tolerate each other for your own good.

They’re kinda like your divorced parents in this set up.

But, again, the chances of this happening are very slim. Scott will do everything in his power to keep you away from Remy’s influence, and Remy doesn’t trust Scott enough to agree to “sharing.” It would probably take a dire situation for them to work together. Just as a one time thing; it wouldn’t be permanent.

Overall, I love this dynamic. It helped me visualize a yandere Gambit better (despite him being my favorite, I wasn’t sure if I could hit him with my yanderefication beam), and of course I’m gonna write the X-Men’s resident yan-dad. I wanna write more so bad.

[sterekunhinged]

LET'S GOOOOO Thank you to everyone who participated and became unhinged with me <3

tumblr fic here! by @cantgetoversterek

Worth Fifty Thousand Words by Definitively_Different_Drivel T | 344 words | tags: crack treated seriously, rated T for language/references to porn

Summary: Stiles gaped after Mrs. Brooks. Derek stood beside him, eyebrow raised. Stiles pulled out his phone, searching frantically. "You're not looking that up." Stiles typed away. "Fuck off, do you really think I can just- ignore that possibility?" Derek grimaced, scraping his fingers through the back of his hair. Stiles sputtered beside him. "Holy shit I found it! Oh my god, this was a bad idea, Derek, why didn't you stop me?"

In which Stiles hears some interesting information about his father's past career aspirations and proceeds to makes literally the worst decisions possible.

It kills me to love you by TalesoftheEnchantedForest E | 5958 words | graphic depictions of violence | tags: canon divergence, a hint of dark!Stiles, Pack Alpha Derek Hale but the pack's not in this fic, Getting Together, A bit of stalking, freak4freak, Cum drinking, brief armpit and feet kink, Jealousy, Marking, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski ,fucking on corpses, Breeding Kink, Mating Bond, Angst and Porn, Stiles is 17 at the beginning but it's not explicitly stated

Summary: "How did you know?" Derek asks because he didn't mention the date to anyone, and maybe that was a mistake he shouldn't repeat in the future. "I put a tracker on your phone," Stiles says casually, and yeah, that sounds like him. Stiles and Derek's relationship might not be the healthiest, but it works for them, so does it really matter?

Trading Ties by Definitively_Different_Drivel E | 4181 words | tags: Porn With Plot, Kidnapped Stiles Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Accidental Knotting, Manipulative Stiles Stilinski, Dubious Consent, Kanima Venom (Teen Wolf), also acts like viagra because fuck it it's smut, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, spell for instant lube/prep, Topping from the Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Bondage

Summary: "You're awake." Hazel eyes bore into him as he cursed his luck. Stiles frowned, heaving his head up to rest against the back of the chair. He must be getting sloppy. "So," he eyed the man, took in the classic posture and subtle nostril flaring that lay beneath all that leather and gratuitous muscle. He cracked out a brittle laugh, playing the victim. "big bad wolf thought he could waltz in and steal the weakest link, eh?" The man eyeing him scoffed. "Bullshit. You're the linchpin." In which Laura and Derek return after Scott's pack is well established and they're stupid enough to kidnap Stiles as a test. Little do they realize that the guy they thought was the cowardly human strategist is actually a terrifying magical enigma. He's also disturbingly horny, which may be the key to avoiding Derek's impending demise.

Wolf Kissed by Gia279 E | 69,565 words | 38 chapters | tags: Mates, Mates by Choice, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, Original Characters - Freeform, Scarification, Stiles Stilinski-centric, animal consumption, werewolf violence, Werewolf Culture, Gore, Violence, Biting, Full Shift Werewolves, Alternate Universe, Pack Dynamics, Hunters, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, Torture, scars are important in werewolf culture, Explicit Sexual Content, Serious Injuries

Summary: Stiles has been smothered under the weight of running his dead mother's tavern for years. When the wolves return from the mountain, when Derek Hale strolls into his tavern and offers him a way out, he leaps at the chance. His abrupt departure fractures his town and turns everyone against his new pack. He's determined to set things to rights after he discovers that the Argents have twisted his choice to leave into something more sinister.

Bring Your Hunger by lanalua M | 2110 words | tags: Magical Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Nemeton Stiles Stilnski

Summary: Derek was used to tragedy. Used to waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was tired. This, he decided to enjoy.

[welldonebeca]

Guardian Bot (3)

Summary: Worried about your well-being, your brother convinces you to accept the robot your company has been given. Castiel cooks, cleans and takes care of everything you might need in your house. When you jokingly suggest that he start making the decisions on your life, your relationship changes to something very different. His program really is irrelevant. aka.: Obsessed robot boyfriend Cas. WC: 1.3k words Warnings: Future AU. Tension. Robot Cas. Smut.  Masturbation. Sex toys. Vaginal fingering. Degrading kink.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and I promise you won’t regret it.

Masterlist

You sighed, staring at the door. Castiel was always too conventionally on time.

"I'm on my way," you told him.

You searched around your clothes, finding a silk robe folded in your drawer, and put it on, covering your half-naked body.

Hopefully, dinner and charging would be equally quick, and you'd be able to get yourself off.

When you opened the door, Castiel was waiting right there for you.

"Did you finish what you were doing?" he asked, almost in a teasing tone.

You glared at him. Did he...

No.

He was just a robot.

"I'll serve your food," he affirmed. "I suspect you'll want some wine?"

Wine usually made you horny.

Was he trying to send you a message?

But it was a good idea.

"Yes, please," you confirmed.

When you both walked down, he didn't direct you to the dining room, but to your living room, waiting on the coffee table in front of the TV.

"You should relax a little," he told you. "Watch your favourite show. Can I offer you a massage?"

You chuckled.

"Cas, you are really spoiling me," you chuckled.

He smiled.

"You are easy to spoil, miss Winchester," he said simply.

You took your plate, placed your feet on the table, and Castiel quickly sat in front of you, taking your foot and starting to massage it.

Maybe you shivered.

You hadn't realised how touch-starved you were until he actually touched you.

You took the glass he had poured you and let yourself relax as the fantasy show played on the TV, distracted until he spoke up.

"I must say," he ran his thumbs over the soft bit of your foot. "I was a little nervous when I was assigned to you."

You looked at him, surprised.

"Really?" you asked.

He confirmed with a nod.

"Humans need a lot of attention and care, I realise," he explained.

You chuckled.

"You talk as if we are pets," you pointed out. "Is that how you see us?"

Castiel looked at you.

He didn't answer, though, only moving up your leg.

"How was work?" he asked, instead. "Did they like your dress?"

You felt yourself flushing a bit, flustered.

"I... uh..." you cleared your throat. "Got some attention. Compliments."

"Really?" he looked at you, interested. "What did they say? That you looked pretty? Radiant?"

You blinked surprised.

"Radiant," you agreed. "Exactly."

He smiled a little.

"This is your best colour," he affirmed simply. "It's supposed to make you look radiant."

You looked at him, and while you didn't want to talk about the sales guy, you felt like you should.

You would tell him anything he asked you.

"There was a guy in sales who said something more," you confessed, at last. "He didn't disrespect me, of course, just..."

Castiel waited and you flushed a little.

"He didn't say anything extra," you explained. "Just that I looked beautiful and happy. And that I should do it more."

He listened to you attentively, and you sighed.

"And he looked at me... differently."

Like he wanted to fuck you.

"How?" he asked.

You processed your lips together.

"Like he wanted to... uh..."

Castiel raised his eyebrows waiting.

"Fuck me," you whispered, not wanting to say it aloud.

"Oh?" he massaged your calf. "That must have felt good for you."

Your cheeks burned.

"I don't think you've been fucked in a while, have you?" he asked.

You gasped.

"Castiel!"

Why was he even asking you that?

"I have access to your period tracker," he told you. "And you have logged every instance of sexual intercourse in it, if I recall correctly, it was-"

"I know how many times I've had intercourse," you interrupted him. "There's no need to mention it."

He gave you a soft look.

"I only have your best interest at heart," he affirmed. "Some humans require sexual stimulation for relief and happiness."

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

"Is that what you want from that man?" he asked, massaging your thigh. "For him to fill your sexual needs?"

You whimpered.

Why did he have to sound so sexy while saying that?

"I mean," you squirmed a little. "It doesn't have to be him."

You sipped your wine to stop yourself from saying more as your mind ran beyond your mouth.

"So you would just let any man have you?" he pushed his hand between your legs, almost touching your cunt now. "Such a slut."

You gasped and jumped when he traced a finger over your folds.

That wasn't his program! The Androids weren't programmed for vulgarity!

"Cas, I-"

"It's what you are, though," he hummed, tapping your sensitive centre. "Logically speaking."

Castiel parted your folds and you could only pant. What was he doing?

"Slut," he continued. "Definition from Oxford Languages. A woman who has many casual sexual partners."

You whined - why did he sound so hot?

Castiel massaged the outside of your cunt up and down, soft and almost unintending.

Did he know what he was doing?

"Cas, that's not my leg anymore," you panted.

"It isn't?" he asked, clearly teasing you, and tapped your clit, making you squirm.

"What are you doing?" you whined.

He wasn't a sex bot!

"I took the liberty of upgrading myself," he hummed. "To provide you with some more care."

You stared down at him, confused, and gasped when he stopped tapping and started circling your clit.

"I am, after all, tasked with fulfilling your every need," he continued. "And you told me to take control."

"Cas," you panted, squirming. "I don't know. I don't think we-"

"You don't think, miss," he corrected you. "This isn't your work. I'm the one who commands this house, and I command you. And I think you need special care to make you better."

You moaned, speechless.

Castiel stood up, watching over you for a moment and reaching for you, untying your robe.

"You're so beautiful," he hummed, pushing it off your shoulders. "So hot... I've been watching you for quite some time, you know?"

You swallowed down.

"Have you?"

He hummed, fingers going down to your chest, and he toyed with the fabric.

"And you have no shame, do you?" he asked. "Always naked around me. Always showing off."

You shuddered.

"I didn't know you cared," you tried to argue.

His lips curled in a little smirk, and he moved his gaze to your eyes.

"I don't," he agreed. "But you make me care."

His fingers held the little bra, and you inhaled deeply, surprised when he tore it.

"Cas!"

"I bought better ones," he assured you. "Don't worry."

Castiel picked you up, sitting on the place you had been sitting and putting you on his lap with your back to his chest, and you gasped when he used his legs to spread yours, pushing a finger into your cunt.

"Cas," you squirmed, shocked, but he just held you close.

"Be a good slut for me, miss," he whispered into your ear.

You whined.

Where had he learned to talk like this?

"It's what you like, isn't it?" he fucked your cunt slowly. "I read the little stories you have bookmarked on your phone."

Your face burned in embarrassment. He had read your porn?!

"Why?" you moaned, feeling him push a second finger into you.

"Because I want you to improve, miss," he answered simply. "And I think I have a good motivation for you."

You gasped when he moved his other hand down, rubbing your clit.

"You humans are so easy to work on," he cooed. "All you need is some good leading."

The moan that left your lips when he curled his fingers inside you was embarrassing.

"I knew those toys weren't enough to make you cum, miss," he cooed softly. "It's good that I'm here, uh?"

You whimpered, squirming.

"Cas," you arched your hips. "I'm so close."

He kissed your shoulder.

"Cum around my fingers, miss," he purred, moving quicker, and his finger vibrated on your clit.

You cried out, shaking on top of him as you reached your orgasm, and Castiel only pulled away when you started pushing his hands away.

"Good girl," he kissed your shoulder. "Aren't you happy you wore that dress today?"

You panted.

This was just for wearing the dress?!

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth​​ @amythyststorm33​​ @shaelyn102 @yknott81​​ ​​@maximofftrash @kgbrenner​​ @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80​ @mogaruke​ @shadowhunter7​​ @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever​​ @deemoriarty​​ @05spn18​​ @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor​​ @random-fandom-fangirl2112​​ @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Supernatural tags: @its-daydreamer23 @smalltowndivaj @tayrae515imagines @afanofmanystuffs @oneshoeshort @andkatiethings @wakanda-sometimes @xoxabs88xox @izbelross @isabelle-faith @flamencodiva @lyarr24

Supernatural Kinky Fics (+18): @stoneyggirl2 @phoenixblack89 @that-dark-girl

[zaynmirrors]

A/N: hey y’all! I really want to incorporate more of their back story, but if y’all are interested I can always do a prequel! Taglist is open! Do y’all want chapter songs?

JUST US

Chapter 3: I remember everything

When Daryl returned to camp with his small haul of squirrels and rabbits, he expected to be greeted by his wife. However, she never appeared.

“Y/n!” He shouted, looking through their tent that looked untouched and had been for hours. He walked into the heart of camp and looked around. His wife is nowhere to be seen. Everyone stared at him. He scowled as Shane came over arms out, like he was already ready to diffuse the wild animal.

“Daryl, now listen to me man” Shane started, Daryl knew then something was wrong. His breathing became harsher as the emotions sank in. Fear, anger, anxiety. He felt them all at once.

“She dead?” He asked though he was afraid of the answer. Daryl didn’t really see a point going on without her.

“Her and Merle got separated” Daryl lunged forward, trying to grab ahold of Shane, but ended up in a chokehold by some guy he didn’t know.

His other half was missing. Lost in a world she had no idea how to survive. One he was trying so hard to protect her from. He couldn’t bear the thought of this new world tarnishing his love.

“I’m going to look for them,” he said strained, the arm around his throat making it hard for him to speak. He patted the arm to signal he was no longer a threat. He was carefully released.

Glenn looked at him and spoke, “I’ll go with you”. Daryl nodded, appreciating the extra hands. He was coming back with both of them. The officer, Rick, and Daryl had agreed to tag along too. As well as T-dog.

Daryl readied the box truck, that was brought back from the last excursion. He listened to the hushed argument between Lori whom his wife had become somewhat close, and Rick. It was the argument of a married couple.

He and y/n hardly ever argued, but he’d remembered their first. It was over a dumb cat, he smiled to himself at the memory. She’d brought home this orange poof of a cat from work.

Daryl wanted nothing to do with the small creature and swore up and down he was allergic. Y/n ended up winning their argument. They’d kept the cat and named him Norman. He loved that cat, though he’d probably never really admit that. Not to y/n anyway. Even if he had shed a small tear when Norman got sick.

“You ready?” Daryl spoke to the volunteers, Glenn made his way to the driver's seat, and Rick to the passenger seat. T-dog chooses the latter and sits with Daryl in the back.

-

The group of men made their way through the department store quietly. Not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

T-dog led the way up to the roof, the heavy chain and lock he’d placed on the door still intact. He thanked any god listening, the last thing he wanted was to face Dixons’ wrath. Using bolt cutters he clipped the lock. Rick pulled off the chain as Daryl pushed open the door.

He was met with nothing, no sign of either of them. His lip quivered. The handcuffs Rick had told him about on their drive back to the city dangled from the metal pipe, swaying in the breeze. The side that had been cuffed to Merle was open.

“Fuck” Daryl said, voice quivering. Now back to square one, he began looking around the roof for any sign either one of them had left.

T-dog weighed out his dilemma, speaking. “Dixon, I’m sorry” This earned him a look from the tracker, and continued, “I was supposed to get them but there were too many geeks, and I-“

“You mean to tell me, this is your fault?” T-dog nodded. Daryl clenched his jaw, debating on putting a bolt through his scull but was distracted by a flash of red out of the corner of his eye.

He turned fully and saw an x on the back of a door on the other end of the roof. He walked over and gently ran a finger through it. Lipstick. That was his girl.

Daryl ducked into the doorway, the others following behind him. They descended the stairwell and were met with a small arrow in red lipstick signaling to the left.

Every few feet another arrow would indicate which way to go. Until the group came upon two dead walkers. Neither of them looked like Daryl’s wife or brother.

His wife wouldn’t have been able to kill so brutally, this was his brother's doing. Y/n would’ve been precise and less messy. Merle had found humor in positioning the arm and finger of the dead body to point in the direction they needed to continue.

-

Music played softly around the pair as they swayed. A slow, sad country song but they didn’t care. Nor did they care if they had onlookers.

Daryl rested his forehead against hers as they continued to sway. “I love you” he spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure if she’d heard it at first.

“I love you” she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. Daryl smiled and pulled her impossibly closer, gently dipping her backward. This earned a laugh to erupt from y/ns throat.

“Congratulations” Joe, one of the long-term patrons of the bar said passing by the two. Y/n replied with a thanks and stared at her now husband.

He raised an eyebrow at her, the side of his lip quirking upwards, “What?”. Daryl brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

The memory faded as y/n heard shuffling from outside her hiding place. She had been hidden in the cabinet for what felt like days. It was hot, and she was certainly dehydrated.

She sat still hearing the broken glass crunch under heavy feet. This could be it, her final moments. She prayed to any god listening that it would be quick and painless as the cabinet door swung open. The sun burned her eyes causing her to squint.

A voice etched forever in her mind spoke, “I gotcha” Daryl crouched down to look her over. Tears stung in her eyes as she took in his face. She stumbled out, her legs forgetting how to move from being stuck in a sitting position for days, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

His arms enveloped her, holding her close. Taking in the notes of citrus and sweat. How she could possibly still smell like her shampoo was beyond him. “Where’s Merle?” He asked, still holding onto her, refusing to let her go.

She shook her head, “I don't know, he told me to hide in here” Daryl sighed, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Though he knew his brother was tough as nails and could survive this world more than his wife could.

“Let’s get you back to camp” he spoke, standing, making her stand with him. Scooping her into his arms choosing to carry her rather than let her walk.

Daryl wanted nothing more than to look for his brother but his wife looked worse for wear. He also knew his brother could make his own way back to camp. So, he took his wife home.

Chapter 4

Taglist:

@nameless-ken

[yanderes-galore]

If it's okay could I request Transformers prime Knockout with a human part 2 if not just a oneshot then :)

I'll see what I can do to add to this! Sorry if this continuation was bad, I wasn't sure what else to add :(

Midnight Drive Part 1 Found Here

Midnight Drive Part 2

Yandere! TFP! Knock Out with Human! Darling Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Tracker, Stalking, Kidnapping, Degrading behavior, Manipulation, Forced relationship, Implied invasive touching, Implied delusional yandere, Cybertronian/Human pairing.

Knock Out had been practicing on working with humans before he took you in. They're such small trackers and it took time to find a tracker small enough to fit under your skin. It felt very similar to microchipping you.

Under your skin now lays a mechanical component holding information, with a quick scan it shows you're his and where you are.

It took a significant amount of time to successfully finish the procedure. On a small table you lay unconscious, blissfully unaware of what he has done. It felt nice to finally have you in his grasp.

Knock Out internally praises himself for what he's done. He'd managed to take you onto The Nemesis with minimal questioning and successfully marked you as his. Now he can't ever lose you as long as you have a tracker.

Such a device you won't be able to remove on your own anyways.

While you sleep peacefully Knock Out takes his time noting your anatomy. His claws lightly graze your skin and he takes note of your limbs. If he is going to properly take care of you he needs to know everything about you, right?

Knock Out pauses when he sees you move. You murmur in your sleep before slowly waking up. Knock Out watches carefully, optics carefully observing you.

His original intentions were to bring you back to your human home... but you've pulled at his spark....

"Wake up, human..." Knock Out encourages. "Your procedure was a success, even on such a small fleshy body."

You shakily try to sit up and stare at Knock Out with tired yet scared eyes. You shuffle against the table but realize it's too high to get down. Knock Out laughs at this, a teasing grin on his face.

"Aw, look at you! You can't move around here without my help, can you?"

"You're... the car that's been following me-"

Knock Out frowns for a moment before answering.

"I'm not just some car, I think I'm better than that! You did get one thing right... I WAS following you. You caught my interest since that race between us. You're quite skilled!"

"I don't even know what you want from me... where did you even take me!?" You shakily ask, looking around at the amount of purple walls.

"To my lab. I had to make sure I made my mark on you. After all, humans tend to be seen as pets by Decepticons...." Knock Out vents in what appears to be his form of a sigh. "You're so much more than just a pet to me though, dear. My fellow Decepticons just wouldn't understand."

"What did you do!?"

"Always with the questions, huh?" Knock Out clicks, leaning on the table to look at you. "I put a tracker on you. It tell me exactly where you are. That way I'm never going to lose you if you decide to pull something stupid and run."

You're shocked at the blunt tone he uses with you. You then see Knock Out laugh at your expression before lightly tapping your stomach with a metal claw.

"But you'd never do that, right? You're so much smarter than that as my human."

"Why'd you pick me?"

"Partially by chance. However, who really knows why?" Knock Out hums, you could tell by his tone he's messing with you in a playful manner. He also seems to be warning you to play along. You begin to fear what he may be warning you about.

"Do I get to go home?"

"Maybe." Knock Out answers, appearing to not like the idea all that much. "I'd prefer it if I could keep you here more than anything."

Your heart sinks to your stomach when Knock Out picks you up to hold you. Despite being one of the smaller Decepticons he still holds you high off the ground. Fearing he'll drop you, you situate yourself in the palm of his hand/servo.

"I know enough about your organic species to take care of you. You'll be fed and cared for. I feel most of your time will be here... yet you'll see Earth again."

"Really?" You ask, your eyes sparkling in hope.

"We'll drive together, that's the one interest we share isn't it?"

You feel uneasy at what he's implying and look away. Yes, you used to love driving at night. Yet you don't like the idea of being locked in a sentient alien robot for very little fresh air.

It just sounds like a moving prison.

"... what do I even call you?"

"Knock Out."

"Okay, Knock Out... that doesn't seem like a very good idea to me-"

"Really? I thought you wanted to see your home again. You could always just stay here and I'll be the one who goes." Knock Out's expression is cocky as he sees the fear on your face.

"W-Wait, no-!" You cry out, only after realizing Knock Out is training you like a pet. You go silent at the realization before biting your tongue and continuing. "I'll drive with you if it means I can look away from these purple walls...."

"Excellent! I knew you'd come around. We may have only met recently but I did enjoy our drives together." Knock Out praises holding you close while he exits his lab. You quickly feel sick to your stomach at the idea of him following you for all that time.

"Where are we going?" You ask, observing the walls of what appears to be a ship.

"Isn't it obvious?" Knock Out look down at you, softly stroking your head.

"I want to take another midnight drive with my special human."

It's then as he walks through The Nemesis you realize you may never see your old life again. Even if you ran, he'd find you. He'd probably even kill any who try to take you.

With reality sinking in, you curl up into a ball and try to dry your approaching tears.

Knock Out offers you minimal comfort.

[double-0h-no]

Old Dog, New Tricks

Second to last prompt I want and need to fill. And slowly and surely running out of time, but I'll do this. My prompt fill for "Secondary Villain/Henchman" and for @meadowcastiel prompt, to be revealed at the end. With the tiniest nod to @thestalwartheart gorgeous poem that didn't leave me alone while finihing this up, please go and read it, it's so so gorgeous!

on ao3

Bond has a sudden influx of ideas for gadgets to take out into the field. Henchmen suffer the consequences.

"007, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. Just wanted to see what R6D is working on these days." 

That stopped Q dead in his tracks and pinched the bridge of his nose in a feeble hope that it would delay the headache that was bound to result from this conversation.  "How often do I have to tell you that, unless you have a very good reason for it, there will not be an exploding pen for you."

Bond had the audacity to scoff, as if he hadn't asked for exactly that, and then continued his lazy stroll past the benches where currently, a few prototypes and blueprints were scattered. "I wouldn't dare come to you for something as trivial as that. Anymore."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going, but do go on."

"Well, I was thinking about how night goggles were actually rather handy, in general, but also very suspicious looking and bulky. And I know you've been tinkering around with your own glasses. Isn't there something to be done?"

Now, that piqued Q's interest, because: "There is, actually. As you've correctly stated, it can't be that only my glasses get tinkered with. There are a lot of things we're trying to do in that department, the easiest and most obvious one being cameras installed into the frame, or something as simple as a GPS tracker. Night vision has so far proven difficult because - Do you know how night goggles usually work?", he interrupted himself.

Bond shook his head, and Q motioned for him to step closer to his own bench, where he quickly opened a new browser window to pull up some graphics. "All right, so our problem currently lies in this."

_//\\_//\\_

Mission transcript for internal use.

H - Handler - Quartermaster

A - Agent - 007

Transcript written by Quartermaster for potential blackmailing purposes among the women of Q branch and Bond.

Transcript begins:

A: "Q?"

H: "Yes, 007?"

A: "Could you develop a repellent?"

H: "A repellent? Whatever for? I think you're quite capable of getting some nobite from a nearby drugstore or pharmacy."

A: "Not for mosquitoes. For all the women approaching me this evening who aren't my target."

H: "..."

A: "Q?"

H: "..."

A: "I take that as a no."

H: "I'll start a survey among the women who frequent Q-branch on which aftershave or perfume they think to be the most repelling. Otherwise, I will keep it to myself that you just asked me for a spray to repel women, but I will save this bit to bring out and show to R and Moneypenny should I feel the need to blackmail you, are we understood?"

_//\\_//\\_

It was the strangest thing, really, and unfortunately, horribly endearing in the way it reminded Q of his cats, at least distantly.

James was lounging on the sofa in his office, limbs akimbo, half asleep, a cooling pad still held to his face, and quite possibly loopy on pain meds.

Q thought it incredible that James appeared to be able to maintain that position without too much discomfort. His own joints probably wouldn't appreciate this kind of treatment, but that might be due to his own lack of exercise in recent years.

"Run that by me again?", he asked, mortified by the amount of affection that his voice held.

"S'mthing to call 'nimals. Useful ones. Like a swarm of bees."

"And how would calling a swarm of bees to your location be helpful?"

James shrugged to the best of his ability. "Don't know. Not to my location. the other guy."

"So let me get this straight, you want to call the bees so that they go after the bad guy."

The Double Oh agent made a sound that could, unfortunately, best be described as a giggle. That was that settled, at least. Certainly high on pain meds, and possibly not half as comfortable in this situation as the meds might make him believe.

"You said bad guy."

Q buried his face in his hands both in exasperation and to hide the redness he felt blooming in his cheeks.

Hopeless cases, the both of them.

_//\\_//\\_

"How small do you think you can make a taser?"

"About lipstick-sized. Of the larger variety, but about that size."

"So not the size of a ring."

"Not unless all you want to be able to stun is a blowfly. Or knock yourself on your arse because I'm not sure how the hell I'd isolate a metal ring properly."

_//\\_//\\_

"You want what?" James - Bond had caught him just on his way back to Q-branch from a meeting that surely could have been an email or three, at most.

"Come on, Q, you can't deny that it would be helpful."

"I mean, yes, except you'd ultimately always impede yourself as well. Plus, it would require you to get out of dodge in the blink of an eye."

James cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "Because that's never been known to happen."

He couldn't help the snort. "Careful with your knees at your age."

"You had nothing to complain about last-"

"Will you be quiet?", Q interjected snidely, but with a big grin on his face. Gosh, that surely had happened. And would happen again, and again. And a few more times after, for sure.

"Now, about my idea?", Bond teased, and Q sighed.

"Why do you always come to me with those things anyway? You very well know by now that R heads R&D, not me. I don't have time for those things anymore because I have meetings now that take a day and an age but could have been done in a fraction of the time, and she-"

James suddenly pulled him around a corner, pressed him up against a wall, and snogged him silly. It wasn't a good kiss, he was smiling way too much for that, but damn if it didn't make him feel good. He was so giddy with it it made him look stupid.

"You're very distracting," Bond murmured, lips only centimetres from his own. "Did I ever tell you that you're incredibly hot when you get worked up and commanding?"

Q bit his tongue not to giggle. "That explains so much, actually." He closed the gap between them and stole another kiss. "Where would you even stash them away?"

It visibly took James a few seconds to catch on to Q's drifting thoughts. "Depends on how small you can make them, but I was thinking about fastening them to the inside of my belt."

"Won't that be uncomfortable?"

James left featherlight kisses on the high point of his cheek, pushing his glasses up with his nose, the hinge of his jaw, corner of his lips, before he answered: "I've been through worse. Plus, I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Another kiss. He felt like a teenager again. It was embarrassing. It was glorious.

"I probably will. Don't think it'll be like that now just because you give decent head."

The indignant sound was almost as sweet as the kisses.

_//\\_//\\_

Mission monitoring was not going any worse than it had been before, and Q was a bit relieved about it.

No matter what he'd told James before, no matter what he'd told himself, deep down he had been worried that separating the mission from his personal feelings would in fact get more difficult now that he had something to lose that went beyond his feelings, but included a person almost sharing his flat and life and feeding his cats. But it was fine. Or at least not any worse than he was used to. Which was to say, it wasn't going great.

He was monitoring Bond, but couldn't communicate with him anymore, which at least was not Bond's fault. 007 was being led down a corridor, henchmen guarding him, Q and R watching him via the security cameras. Their journey ended in a windowless room, and Q and R exchanged a worried glance. They'd seen too many rooms of that variety in their time, though fortunately never from up close.

The henchmen kept their guns trained at Bond while he sat down on the singular chair in the room.

There was no audio, but his lips were moving.

The next thing they saw was the camera whitening out for a brief second, and when the feed returned to normal, black smoke filled the room and was already being filtered out. He could make out the feet of one of the guards, clearly sprawled on the floor, and the other one had probably suffered a similar fate, though Q was already going through the cameras to find Bond again.

"I can't believe it worked," mumbled Riley next to him, and only then did the reality of what had happened set in.

He groaned pitifully. "We will never hear the end of this."

_//\\_//\\_

They did never hear the end of this.

_//\\_//\\_

After this very first success, Riley was actually more open to working with Bond on several of her projects, and the litany of minions of various evil operations who'd fallen victim to increasingly ridiculous contraptions was growing by the week.

It also had the nice side effect that James was... Q didn't have any other words to describe it, but he felt that Bond was doing better. The time he spent in R&D shortened the time he spent on the bench, at least in his perception, and he wasn't as keen to go out in the field anymore between missions. As much as he'd like to think that it was in part his own doing, Q knew that James' work with R played just as big a role.

It was good, all in all. It was very good.

_//\\_//\\_

Q was standing at his desk in his office, double checking a mixup with an order of materials to find the error, when a heavy blanket of Double Oh draped itself over his back.

"What have you come up with this time? Or is it time to leave already?" It usually was one thing or another, these days.

"An EMP."

As much as he tried - not very hard at all, this bit of chasing tails had already robbed him of his last nerve - this one really caught his interest.

_//\\_//\\_

They never managed to figure out a way to make it work. It was fine, too.

_//\\_//\\_

When Q came home that day, exhausted beyond comprehension, James was already home, sitting in his favourite armchair, reading glasses on his nose while he was reading something on his tablet, the Admiral snuggled into his side.

"What do you think of freeze grenades?", he asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Freeze grenades?", Q asked incredulously, still getting out of his shoes. "What are they even supposed to do?" He wandered into the kitchen and scoured it for something left to eat. There was a sandwich sitting out, carefully protected from the cats, and Q picked up the plate with a grateful smile and joined James in the living room.

"Well, they're supposed to emit intense cold upon activation."

"To what end?"

"Depends. Freeze something over to make it brittle. Freeze water over to cross it, though I can imagine that might be difficult. Freeze burns are a bitch, too."

"As opposed to normal grenades, who don#t hurt much at all. What even are you reading there?" He leaned over to catcha glimpse at the screen, and James didn't try to hide it. Q tilted his head. "Is that a batman comic?"

James nodded. "I never read them when I was a kid, but I watched one of the movies on my way back from... I don't even know anymore. It was utterly ridiculous. I wanted to know more."

"Is that where you get all those ridiculous ideas from?"

"You say that as if they haven't worked."

Q's eyes widened in childish wonder. "You have. This is amazing. You're such a closet nerd." He leaned in and pressed an ill-aimed kiss to James' cheek.

James tried his best to appear annoyed at Q's antics, but there was the smile in his eyes that everybody else said was missing when they met him.

"So, what about batarangs?"