#and witnessing just this wave of hatred for an episode

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

OFMD FINALE SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

okay so tf is everyone complaining about? there's so much negativity around the finale and idk why?? like eps 6 and 7 i got the criticisms for because they were clunky and rushed but the finale was literally the best case scenario on all fronts (apart from izzy not getting kissed)

like, the crew get to go be pirates and start plotting revenge and live and love and be a whole big polyamorous snuggle pile, which i think is very much what the show is about, loving each other, finding where you belong and who you live for, along the lines of what jim and izzy have said about the crew

izzy's arc got cLOSURE he understood that he fed into blackbeard's negativity and even though he was self aware of that, he also understood that he needed blackbeard in order to have purpose and he was happy to die and surrender that purpose in order for ed to just be ed and be happy because he LOVES him, and yeah maybe i wish he hadn't have had to die because he's my skrungly but i think that it was a smart choice for the story! he was such a huge part of what held ed and stede back from being happy in season 1 and got such a redemption arc in season 2 that the only rational progress is to be free of him in order to move on, but value and remember who he was and what he did for them and their feelings for him (the headstone!)

ed and stede got to retire!!!!!!!! they are retiring !!!!!! together!!!!! happily! in love!!! like how is that not the ideal scenario. how is that not what everyone was hoping for. sweet domestic bliss! ed's entire character motivation this whole fucking show was him finding who he was outside of piracy and outsides of the blackbeard persona. stede was a fucking terrible pirate who found where he belonged, and it wasn't at sea! it was with ed! wherever ed was. them getting to chillax and finally he happy without anything hanging over their heads is deserved. and i'm sure if we get a season 3 that there will be obstacles explored including cabin fever especially on stede's side because i think he will have a residual longing for adventure moreso than ed who's just ready to be done with it all, but for now??? i think a break had been a long time coming for them.

lupete's wedding!!!! it happened! and it was short and sweet and subtle, but their love is so real, their chemistry is just so lovely, and they also deserve to be happy. somehow i have a feeling something terrible will happen to them is season 3 but i don't gotta think about that rn

so overall i loved it i think everyone was hot as shit i think the fighting and the piratey scenes were cool, i LOVED the misdirect of zheng asking to team up only for the ship to leave without stede and ed i thought that was BEAUTIFUL writing

the LETTER SCENE !!!!!?

everyone was SO HOT

but yeah you know what izzy didn't get kissed so maybe i hated it after all

[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.

[oyasumire]

I'm sorry, I don't think this context makes it better. I've seen others respond with the literally all of the exact same points and have ignored every single one because it doesn't matter, but allow me to explain why.

First, the date the episode aired is irrelevant. I'm not sure why several people have brought that up. I mean, I know the consensus here is that yall think we believe this episode was written and aired with Palestine in mind, but that was literally never what I thought and if anything, jumping to that conclusion is the reactionary thinking that led to the article being written about Omar, putting words in his mouth that he was linking the episode to the Palestinian genocide, and getting mad about it. That said, the military is still the military no matter what year it is and people are allowed to dislike it no matter what year it is because it's not like they just started doing bad things in 2023.

Second, Omar lives in Australia. You can click on the link to his profile and see his location. You mention the timing of the global distribution of this episode but that's irrelevant because first and foremost, he is a brown Australian man and that is a drastically important bit of context everyone needs to remember going forward because people keep thinking that we're just misunderstanding this episode and the ADF because we're viewing it from a usamerican perspective of the military but the actual perspective is not that. It was a brown Australian man who wrote the poem, upset at what is being normalized for his brown Australian son. It was a brown Australian man who then had Australian media post inflammatory articles about him, inciting waves of hatred and abuse from citizens he has to live with. That is the full perspective.

Third, people are mad that I called it propaganda, saying "it's not propaganda because they don't glorify it." "it's not propaganda to show a soldier for 5 seconds." "it's not propaganda for a kid to just miss their dad." Funny how one person who said that then went on to explain in the same breath that Bluey was made in Brisbane and Brisbane has a large military presence so of course they'd show something to comfort the many kids with military parents in the city. Funny how that gets said and the propaganda of it all goes completely over their head. And I think all of you are confused about what propaganda is. It's not just glorification. It's normalization. You say that Rusty plays army frequently. Tell me, what is propaganda if not that? A child whose father is a soldier is so used to the army that he imitates it without missing a beat. Because it's normal. The young children of Brisbane with its large military presence, who these episodes are supposedly for, are so used to it that they see it on tv. Because it's normal. They get comforted because their parents might die. Where's the comfort for brown kids whose parents theirs might kill? No matter what, brown people, whether in another country or just in another city down the coast, are shown that their lives are an afterthought. Because we have made this normal.

Fourth, and this is what bothers me most: it's not just Bluey. It has never been just Bluey. The point of this post, the point of Omar's poem, the point of everything we have witnessed in the past 4 goddamn months of an ongoing genocide and dehumanization of brown people is how all of this is normalized. Again and again and again. I don't care about Bluey. I didn't make this post because I have beef with this one show in particular and wanted to start fandom discourse. Omar didn't write his poem because he wanted to accuse Bluey of promoting genocide in an effort to turn people against this one specific cartoon. None of this is about Bluey itself, it's about the bigger picture, something no one defending the show seems to grasp because they want to support their favorite preschool dog show so bad.

You think showing the military in Bluey is fine? Cool, what about every other show. Because kids aren't just watching Bluey, they're watching tons of things that are all depicting the same thing, and purposely so, because the first step of propaganda is normalization so you don't question it when the glorification starts. Yall need to stop fixating on the Bluey aspect of it all. I have never solely cared about the Bluey aspect of it all. This isn't just petty fandom drama, this is a real world issue that is so prevalent, it's inescapable. Yall need to view this in the full scope of things because the military (and police) presence in media, even for children, is a widespread problem everywhere and that has always been the core issue here.

"These cartoon dogs going to war isn't new" yeah and why isn't it new? Why is it we can't look at this and say this isn't normal?

literally insane to me how you can shove military propaganda in a show for actual preschoolers and that's considered fine but god forbid you find it weird or sad or else someone will pen a whole article discrediting the horrors millions are going through because having dog soldiers in the cartoon for 3 year olds is more important

[blzzrdstryr]

Hi! If it's doesn't bother you may I request diluc,amber,zhongli and ganyu with their darling died during child birth but as a the child grow up their the exact copy cat of their mother ?

Starring: Amber, Diluc, Ganyu, Zhongli

CW: Death, yandere

Amber

Amber is distraught by the whole ordeal, the realization of your death finally sinking in months after it happened. She just can’t believe it at first, even denying the notion of any harm coming to you, and desperately repeating to herself that everything is fine and you’re still alive.

“You need to travel far, far away and you will eventually return” is what she will tell to herself, spending her days between attending her duties as the sole scout of knights of Favonius and being a single parent. All the words of condolences and pitiful gazes will be either ignored or met with faux confusion, until she comes to accept that you died.

She will collapse then, overcome with grief and self-hatred, the mask that she has been wearing all this time finally slipping and cracking into a thousand pieces, as the full blown hysteria takes over her. Amber will loudly cry on the floor, deaf and blind to the outside world, as her heart processes emotions she kept bottled up for so long.

She will quickly recover, remembering that she has a child to care for. She will be mostly a good, understanding mother, cherishing the kid both as the product of your shared love and the last thing she has left of you. It’s highly unlikely that Amber will restrict the child in some major way, except for rare times their face and voice remind her so much of you, her heart is at the verge of bursting. She will be overcomed by the sudden protective and strict episode, for which she will apologize later.

Diluc

Diluc already has trouble processing his own emotions and your death will only exacerbate this problem. He will shut off from the world upon hearing the dreadful news, scarlet eyes unfocused, as his mind races for the possible explanation.

Why did you die? Didn’t he hire the best medics and doctors? Didn’t he monitor the entirety of your pregnancy? Didn’t he spend a fortune to provide you with the best care he could find? So why did you die?

People like to shift the blame in hard situations, even if there’s no one to blame in the first place, and Diluc is no exception. For a single moment he will feel so much hatred for his newborn child he will start seeing red. This feeling, however, will soon melt and vanish as he will take the infant into his hands, a wave of self-loathing crushing him for just feeling this way towards his child. Your child.

Now with no one to blame, a new thought will appear in Diluc’s head - that he's the one at fault, that it's him who put a child in you, which led to your ultimate demise. He wants to crumble this same second, yet he stops, remembering that he has a child.

Diluc will constantly switch between being the main caretaker and having the kid watched by the multiple maids, while he's away or simply busy with winery business. He wants to be always there for his child, yet sometimes they look so much alike to you, he has to take a step back, lest a wave of grief consume him. Diluc will definitely be an overprotective, strict dad who babies his kid, especially if they inherited not only your face but character too.

Ganyu

Ganyu is very shocked when she learns of your sudden death. She will immediately blame herself for this - adepti blood is a heavy burden, and maybe her being half qilin is what killed you.

Ganyu you will request a leave from her job, to collect her thoughts and spend time with the baby. She lived such a long life, witnessing the archon war and working as Qixing secretary for countless generations, yet this is something totally unexpected.

Ganyu will try to look after the baby, the key word here being "try" as she finds herself very unfamiliar with what she should do next. Her biological "clocks" will also pose a problem for her, as after living in a very strict schedule for such a long time Ganyu finds it extra hard to adapt to the baby's regime, sometimes unable to wake up in the middle of the night at the sounds of their scream.

Ganyu will also feel a certain guilt for bringing the child into this world - she is half human and half adeptus, someone who has never felt welcomed in either of worlds, and she fears that her child will experience the same heartache.

Zhongli

Zhongli is also stunned, but he regains his composure the quickest. An outsider might even think he feels nothing for you, as he calmly asks to see the baby, yet it’s far from the truth. Zhongli is just too hardened by the passing time to break here and now.

He will gently grasp the infant, marveling at the mix of the divine and mortal, his and yours. The reverence he held for you will be shifted towards the child, as he views them as some kind of miracle.

Zhongli will personally oversee the child all the time, yet he will also ask some of his adepti to keep an eye on the kid, lest any harm comes to them.

They will grow up amidst the peaks of Juyeun Karst, as even with the mixed blood they're still pretty strong and will need all the help they can get in controlling and embracing their powers. Adepti will most likely humour and entertain the kid out of their loyalty and sympathy, so the child will grow up surrounded by love, care and attention.

This harmonious picture will be shattered when the child will decide to explore the world and see other nations, as Zhongli can be a very strict and overprotective parent. He will restrict and confine them in Liyue if it means they get to be safe.

[chidoroki]

What are your top 5 Isabella chapters? (You're so cool!!!)

Oh anon, you're amazing and I hope you know by asking me anything about this woman means that I'm gonna do more than simply list out the chapters for you.

Okay, sooo these chapters may seem like obvious choices but they're no doubt the first few that came to my mind (which may or may not be because I have their numbers memorized). Unfortunately I don't think I have the heart to rank them because aahh, I love each one a significant amount and for various reasons?? and whichever one I deem as the best could easily change the more I think about it.. so I'm just gonna list them in chronological order instead. Hope that's okay!

1 - Chapter 24: Inspection, Part 1 Part of me wants to cheat and list chapter 24 & 25 together since both cover November 2nd and the major events in said chapters are what make S1EP8 one of the best episodes to showcase how terrifyingly great Isabella is, but if I had to choose just one, then I'll go with ch24. Yes seeing her break Emma's leg and announce Norman's shipment are both jaw dropping moments capable of making anyone speechless, but ch25 also has quite a few pages just solely dedicated to the internal dialogues of the duo, so that doesn't help us here hm?. While Isabella dropping her "loving mother" facade and speaking to the food Emma & Norman directly as an actual caretaker is chilling, her confrontation with Ray in ch24 leaves more of an impact on me, given their mother-son relationship and totally not because they're my two favorites, that's crazy. Not only does she nonchalantly reveal that she had Krone killed at the same time Ray was wondering the sister's whereabouts, but she also labels Ray as a traitor, effectively cutting him off as her personal spy and any safety she once guaranteed him. She then makes the resolve to control the children with her own hands instead from now on, which sends Ray into an absolute panic, because if he is no longer safe, then no one is. Along with the anime giving us that added scene of her tossing Ray aside like a rag doll and every frame/panel that shows the sheer confidence she has on her face, having Isabella knock off her biggest ally is such a powerful move to me. This chapter is basically like the queen setting up the board for the perfect checkmate. And it works.

2 - Chapter 37: Escape Courtesy of all Krone's information in ch20-21, Grandma Sarah's single panel flashback in ch23 and even Isabella's own ID number way back in ch3, it was pretty common knowledge at this point that Isabella also experienced the same false childhood as any other kid at Grace Field, but finally seeing her morals and backstory from her own perspective will literally take any hatred you had towards her and toss it out the window (probably) because you'll feel emotions you didn't think you would've originally had towards this fantastic antagonist. The brief interaction we get to witness between her and Leslie is beyond wholesome, so of course the story chooses to break your heart the next moment by skipping right to his shipment and a heartbroken Isabella (which is portrayed way better in anime as manga literally has a panel of her smiling as she waves goodbye, like..huh?). It's also confirmed that she attempted to escape GF and just how important Leslie's song is to not only her, but to Ray as well as he uses this tune in order to verify that Isabella is indeed his real mother. On top of all that, we come to learn that she excels with her position as Mom for the sake of the children so she can indirectly extend their lives as long as possible and give them all the love she can before they’re unfortunately shipped off. Yes her main goal is to stay alive in this hellish world herself, I know, but this chapter is just a fantastic example showing how Isabella isn't as selfish as she once seemed and does care about her children a great deal (and more than herself later on in the story), even going as far as retrieving the ropes the fifteen escapees used to cross the cliff so the pursuing demons wouldn't locate them as quickly. She accepts her defeat and admits her mistakes, as well as express her well wishes to those that escaped and continues to care for the kids that were left behind while she can. There's just.. a lot to this chapter and it does so much for her character y'all, you know this. Needless to say but the anime handles this chapter wonderfully, especially with the soundtracks and the fantastic choice of having her let her hair down aahh she's beautiful.

3 - Chapter 170: Together As much as I love the very end of ch169 and the pure shock it gave me, I gotta choose the following chapter because it made it just as excited to learn what led Isabella to completely turn against Peter. We're reminded of how frustrated Isabella is with the farm system and its tactics that causes them to live in fear, flaunting freedom as bait as they all constantly fight each other just to survive longer than anyone and prove to be useful, less they get killed for acting out or by simply giving up. She successfully manages to rally every single sister & mother at the GF headquarters together (with barely any sort of resistance or issue) in order to rebel against the Ratri clan, which happens mere moments before Emma & company actually raid the facility by the way, just to avoid any suspicions from Peter about the plan itself. Amidst all the suspense and anger, we hear of Isabella's thoughts about how relieved she is to see her children again and how touched she is at the fact they still refer to her as their mom, even if she believes she doesn't deserve the sentiment. In true "Iron Lady" fashion, she keeps these emotions to herself and expresses that it's just convenient she and the kids share a similar goal. Oh, she also refers to Peter as a boy, which I will always find hilarious. To top it all off, it gives me the best mother-daughter moment ever. This is the chapter where she completely won me over and has been a favorite of mine ever since.

4 - Chapter 177: Mother And this is the chapter that completely breaks me. I'm not exaggerating when I say that whenever I revisit this moment I either start to tear up or get real emotional, so I shall let you know my emotional state after I sit and write this out. So, the wonderful woman I fell in love with just seven chapter ago? Mhhmm, DEAD! By some fucking random ass demon who is no doubt my most hated character in this series. ANYWAYS. This unforgivable event was first teased in the last couple pages in ch176, which officially released on MOTHER'S DAY, so not only is that such horrible timing but THEN we had to painfully wait a full week to see if the Iron Lady would survive this or if the children were gonna lose yet another parental figure. Needless to say, the worst case scenario happened and my heart was shattered into pieces. My emotions aside, the chapter itself is (surprisingly?) one of my favorites out of the entire series and is heartwarming is the most upsetting way possible. Isabella putting herself in harms way to save Emma & the other girl (with no hesitation might I add) speaks volumes about how much she loves her kids and how far she'll go to ensure they can live a bright future, even if it means by sacrificing her own life, which was once the only she cared about. The fact Isabella still possessed enough strength after being stabbed to hold back this bastard demon twice her size is worth mentioning as well. Once the demon is taken care of, the first thing she's concerned with is Emma & everyone else's safety, showing us even further that they now take priority over herself (even since ch37, I’ll argue). Despite literally giving her life to save Emma (along with all her other subtle moments I've no doubt mentioned here & in other posts), Isabella admits that she still hasn't done enough to atone for all the trauma she caused them, even though the kids had already forgiven her a couple chapters ago, she still feels the need to do so much more for them. The hug between her and the majority of the GF kids is sad as hell, especially with Emma's internal & external dialogue, but it is always the final interaction between mother and son that breaks my heart. Isabella apologized to all the kids in ch174, but her tearful apology to Ray here holds so much weight; for not treating him right or loving him as a true mother should to her own son, for all the lies and pain that made his life a living hell which left him suicidal. Her final wish for Ray to take care of everyone hurts in all the right ways because despite their differences, they both care for their family so much where they would literally die and live for them. It's a lot of emotion coming from a woman who once had an unbreakable facade, and seeing her use up her final bit of strength to share all that with Ray gets me close to tears. This death had upset me so much that I stopped myself from listening to "Isabella's Lullaby" for a good year because I knew that hearing that melody would only remind me of this heartbreaking chapter. (and yes I'm making myself emotional right now).

5 - Chapter 181.7: A Mother’s Determination Take everything that made the previous four mentioned chapters so great (her strategic mind/her dedication/her powerful influence/her love for the children) and combined all of that into one and you shall get Isabella's special one-shot. It shows us the very beginning (Jan-Feb 2046) of Isabella's time as Grandma of the Grace Field plantation and how she commits to her plan of helping the escapees when they return. In order to succeed, she first reduces the number of shipments (which effectively spares many children's lives), suspects she might be targeted by the other sisters & mothers and even successfully determines which women might actually try to backstab her, all in the span of one month. She also anticipated the perfect moment when they were gonna strike, flawlessly counters their sad attempt of sabotaging her, then easily taunts them to the point where the four sisters are visibly shaking in fear of their lives. Without any delay, she proposes the idea to destroy GF in such a calm and confident manner and proceeds to tug at their emotions with the reveal that each one of their own kids are still alive, how frustratingly unfair the farm system and how strongly she believes she can tear it all down. This is the Iron Lady at her best, and nothing motivates her more than her children. Of course rebelling to end this endless cycle of hatred and fear is a huge factor in why Isabella is putting in so much effort to change destiny, but fighting in order to secure a bright future where her children are free to live normal lives without any sort of fear is something she has always strived for, and now that she has the power to openly assist them create that future, you can bet she's gonna try her damn hardest to give them the happiness they so rightfully deserve. We started the story off with the children learning from her, so it’s pretty amazing (despite this chapter being released after the main story finished) that we end with Isabella using what she learned from her children in order to take control and unite against the real enemy. The only downside to this fantastic chapter is the last panel because I don't wanna be reminded that this absolute queen is actually dead, damn it!

Alrighty, I think that about does it.. and I have no doubt I repeated myself a bunch too hahaa. I still have no idea which chapter I enjoy most now, even among those I mentioned briefly, but it's clear as day that Isabella is amazing. Thank you again for the question anon! Always a pleasure chatting about TPN and I hope you have a great rest of your day/night!

[mystic-poet]

ROGUE PATHS

I wake up to find myself handcuffed to the hospital bed. The drug they injected me with to tame me seems to be wearing off. Ugh! This again. Better to get it over with, I guess. I drag my free hand into my bun and retrieve a small blade. As usual the dumb police never bothered to check in there thinking a man’s bun would just be a fashion statement. I twist to my side and turn the blade in the keyhole clockwise. My hand comes free. I learnt to pick locks when I was young, one of my many talents. I shake my hand hard to get rid of the stiffness and get up from the bed.

I stride confidently straight towards the door, not in the sneaky kind like a criminal would. As expected, a police officer stands at guard. His lips are on the verge of screaming when I silence him by waving a hundred bucks in front of his eyes. He raises his eyebrows at me and I throw in another four hundred to satisfy his thirst. That ought to shut him up. Money! The most deadly weapon and beautiful thing anyone can ever have.

□□□

Outside the hospital waits Beth. She teaches German in Crawford High. Well, it would be safe to say she taught me the art of viciousness. If angels can house demons, there isn’t any harm in a teacher being an evil mastermind.

“They shot you pretty bad in that leg, huh?” she says as I limp on one good leg. She gives me a look that was overflowing with pity. How I hate that!

“Enough with the puppy eyes already!” I snap. My right leg was hurting real bad and I would have stayed in the hospital until they mended it and made my grand escape later but I won’t want to deprive the world of its foul folks. Besides, I have business to finish.

“I must say, I didn’t expect you to be in the hospital,” Beth says unlocking her car and we sit in.

“They shot my leg in the encounter at the bank and I was losing blood by the second. Couldn’t get much out of me while I was thrashing in pain,” I explain.

“Did you find anything at the bank?” Beth asks raising an eyebrow at me as she drives the car out of the parking lot.

“I was close to. The property papers were in my hands before the cops caught up with me. Couldn’t read a word.”

“So, what are going to do? Got anything up your sleeves?”

“Well, I do. I am going to father’s house this Wednesday,” I say coolly.

“You do know that’s two days away, don’t you?”

“I have thought it through. You’ll see,” I say grinning.

Beth shakes her head. “Just remember I need my share of the money, Carl.”

“We talked about this a million times, Beth. You’ll get your forty percent,” I say casually leaning into the passenger’s seat.

□□□

My dad abandoned me when I was a teen. He is the owner of a multinational electronic company my late grandpa founded. Beth was the assistant manager. She was a frequent visitor in thehouse and shared a fine bond with dad until one day, she was fired when my dad accused her of a theft she never committed or so she told me.

When I was old enough, I tracked her down and discovered that she craved revenge with dad for all the wrongs done to her. She wanted to blow the lid off and reveal all the dark secrets behind dad’s firm. In a way, our common want of vengeance united us.

My dad is stinking rich whereas I was left in some community home and survived off donations. This is why I despise pity; I have lived with it all my life. I have my rightful place in the company and the fortune my grandpa left behind. But I need theofficial documents and my one chance of getting them from the bank slipped away. That’s where the part of infiltrating his house comes in. Ah! It’s been such long while since I did something of this kind. Infiltrating seems such a gorgeous word now.

□□□

“So, how are we doing it?” asks Beth pouring two glasses of red wine for the both of us. She drove us to her house for it’s probably the safest place to be.

“He is hosting some success party on Wednesday and there’s bound to be security. My idea is to go through as delivery persons. The rest will follow. You will tip toe to the computer room while I put up some distraction. I will catch up with you soon enough. Till then, find the papers,” I instruct taking a swig from my glass.

“It won’t be that simple, you know,” she says with a smirk.

“I was thinking you need that forty percent,” I say with mock seriousness.

“Fine!” she says exasperated. How I love when I am obeyed.

□□□

We are wheeling the cart that supposedly holds the cake but instead I just stuffed it with a wad of cotton. I ring the bell of the grand house with Beth beside me. The housekeeper, a woman in maybe in her thirties, opens the door. She gestures to where the cake should be kept. I look around at the magnificence of the place and its each and every adornment and decoration, from the mahogany coffee table to the velvet curtains and even the intricate designs on the glass vases, conveyed royalty. I feel a rush of hatred inside me. My father enjoyed all the money at his disposal and lived in comfort with rugs beneath his feet whereas I tossed and turned with unease in my bed every night wondering if my parents would ever make their way back to me. At least my mother passed away before she witnessed the return of her abandoned son.

“You know what to do,” I whisper in Beth’s ear. She nodded. I take my blade out and make a shallow cut in the back of my hand oozing out blood. That blade is indeed a good partner. I pocket it as swiftly as I took it out.

“Oh, I am bleeding. I am bleeding,” I say dramatically and hold my hand out purposefully for everyone to see the scarlet covering it.

“Oh dear, God. I will fetch you some ice from the kitchens,” the housekeeper says and disappears into a corridor. That’s the thing about kind people; they are easy prey.

I signal to Beth and she sets off in a half-walk and half-run up the stairs. She knows the way to the computer room from all those years of coming to dinners and teas in the house. As she turns into the corner, I rush behind her too wiping the blood on my pants.

I catch up with her soon enough as she looks straight ahead navigating through the rich corridor filled with a few guests. I walk behind her maintaining a safe distance; we can’t afford to attract any attention.

We walk into a long deserted hallway. I am sure the computer room is here and so does Beth, I suppose, as she carefully notices each door. She comes to an abrupt stop in front of the door at the far end of the hallway and opens it without a glance at me. In the middle of the room sits a computer that would be the cause of my dad’s doom. Beth turns it on and gets to work as I stand at the door occasionally peaking in. I was afraid it might have a password but it didn’t. Arrogance! Father must be sure no one could evade his computer. Well, I guess history is being made today.

“Do it quick!” I hiss at her.

“Does it look like I am not trying?” she says making an irritated face at me.

We are silent for five minutes or so when Beth says, “Carl, I found them!”

A smirk creeps across my face. “Transfer it to me. All of it,” I say in an excited whisper.

Beth turns back to the computer and presses send. The next few moments go by as quickly as the blink of an eye. I lock Beth in the computer room and somewhere a safety alarm triggers deafening my ears. I hear her muffled screams calling out to meechoing in the hallway but without looking back I descend the two flights of stairs.

I bump into the security on a landing and adopting my best worried voice I say, “A woman in the computer room. Upstairs.” The words barely escape my mouth and they run upstairs to find the trespasser while I walk out of the mansion with satisfaction.

Indeed, Beth taught me too much than she should have. Call me selfish but that’s what the world made me. I couldn’t have let Beth have forty per cent. After all, what would she do with it in jail? As for my father this episode would definitely motivate him to set a computer password. I whistle walking on the road thinking of the colour my bungalow would be.

Tagging:

@ruins-of-heart @witchpossessinghozier @some-broken-words @sinless-mind @luck1998 @ze-thoughts-are-stupid @random-lit @saamiya @colinisalright @thunder19sstuff @yalocal-deadpoet @asthetically-bookish @literature-is-my-religion @mrun-v @songfromstars @donapreachesart @i-snort-chocolates @duskobserver @apprielle24 @halfagonyhalfhop3 @klainebrittana @ray-of-darkness7 @balladofableedingpoet2112 @morticiapretz @vantaerayleigh1997 @sillylilbakaaa @church-of-burnt-romances @burn-like-starss @mjsespaces-blog @theleechwhodrinksbleach

Thank you so much for giving this a read dears!

Comments, criticism and suggestions are always welcome <3!!!

[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 5

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It’s time to return to the first game for case 5, The Unspeakable Story!

Episode 5: The Unspeakable Story – Part 1

Prepare yourselves, this is a big one! So big, even, that I'm going to have to split it into two parts. Fortunately, we can skip over the entire Investigation segment, because virtually none of it is relevant to Van Zieks. In fact, we don't even learn Van Zieks is the prosecutor until we enter the courtroom and see him standing there. Somehow, no one thought to ask who Ryu would be facing. What we do learn during the Investigation is confirmation that McGilded was indeed a lying scumbag who murdered Thrice-fired Mason. He asked Gina to lie for him in a court of law, too. So indeed, Ryu backed the wrong horse in The Runaway Room and Van Zieks was right to suspect the defense of deceit. He was wrong in how he worded half his arguments, though.

An extra thing worth noting is that after the conversation in which the blood is found on Gina's coat and the truth of McGilded comes out, it's revealed that Gregson was hiding nearby in the shadows. He insists he didn't eavesdrop and only just walked in, but it's implied much later in the trial that he knew about the blood on the coat. This means that Gregson is, from this point on, holding the full knowledge that McGilded was McGuilty in the omnibus murder.

So into the courtroom we go, where it is shown we're facing Van Zieks. (And nobody is surprised, because who else would it have been? Auchi?) It is now two months after the Runaway Room and the two Clouded Kokoro cases, so immediately upon starting the trial, the judge basically asks Van Zieks whether he's gone insane- in his own words, that is. First he asks how many years it's been since Van Zieks retired, to which Van Zieks replies that it's been five. The judge notes that Van Zieks resurfaced rather suddenly two months ago, (then basically handled three cases in a single week,) and showed up again today.

HAH. I love how on the nose this judge is when it comes to dissing the prosecution. He goes on to state that Van Zieks used to deal exclusively in matters concerned with 'the highest echelons of society and government', yet today he's trying 'a simple case of burglary and murder'. We already learned this from Gregson in case 1-4, but it's nice to have it repeated again.

Van Zieks replies that there's two things he cannot abide: “Wealthy scoundrels who hide behind a mask of philanthropy-” (hi McGilded!) and... “Secondly- even more loathsome... Those wily scoundrels who masquerade as allies only to effect total betrayal in the final hour.”

So that settles it then. He's specifically taken on his three most recent cases because there were Japanese people involved. He's also outright admitting that which Ryu had already guessed: Van Zieks hates Japanese people and going by his wording (“betrayal”, etc.) he has some bad experiences. Ryu wonders whether that 'torrid look of hatred' in Van Zieks's eyes is directed at him or at all Japanese people. Frankly, I think that in a subconscious sense, it's neither. The way I see it, that torrid look of hatred is directed at a man who died ten years ago. But I'll get back to this when it's time to address the backstory. The judge finds that an “alarmingly scathing explanation”, but welcomes the Reaper of the Bailey back to court all the same.

I love the implication that Van Zieks can apparently just come and go as he pleases in terms of prosecuting. Retirement can just be upturned on a whim and he's allowed to choose any case he wants. Who even is keeping him informed on which cases are happening and who the defense is? Is there a Chief Prosecutor in play we don't know about or is Stronghart slipping notes into his letterbox? Or has Van Zieks been entering the prosecutor's office every day for the past two months, demanding to hear news of 'that Nipponese attorney'?

So anyway, Van Zieks lays out the opening statement, pours himself a glass of wine, accuses Ryu of jumping to conclusions and reveals that he has witnesses. Remember when he threw aside his cloak halfway into 1-3 and it was seen as a big deal? … Yeah. It's not much anymore, now. He gets rid of it before the first witnesses have even taken the stand. The guys called forth are literal criminals who happened to break into the scene of the crime and, according to Van Zieks, “will face trial in the very near future” for their “various trespasses”. Alright, so he's acknowledging he's called forth some sketchy witnesses, but considers the murder itself far more sinister than their burglary.

Ryu manages to prove the taller Skulkin brother fired a gun at the crime scene and in doing so, struck poor innocent (S)Holmes. (Ryu presents a picture of a blood-stained calendar with a bullet in it to prove this, yet ten minutes later, he'll present the exact same picture and the entire court will act as if they'd never seen it before. Awkwaaard.) Van Zieks pours himself another glass of wine, toasts to Ryu's incompetence and later has another micro-aggression:

Scumbag points! And also possibly hilarious foreshadowing if he's referring to either Asogi Sr. or Mikotoba here. Though it's hard to say how well acquainted Van Zieks was with (S)Holmes and his partner roughly 16 to 10 years ago. Anyway, Van Zieks flings another chalice and basically admits that he already knew these two criminals gunned down (S)Holmes, but made a deal with them not to get into that. Though technically, Ryu was the one who got into it by proving it in court, so Van Zieks didn't break any unscrupulous deals. And maybe he was even expecting Ryu to do so? Maybe that's why he was pushing Ryu to present evidence? Either way, Van Zieks now owes 'his Nipponese friend' a word of gratitude, since he helpfully confirmed the two brothers couldn't possibly have shot the victim. Only one bullet was fired from their pistol, after all, and if it hit (S)Holmes it couldn't possibly have killed Windibank.

Van Zieks proceeds to “take a moment to consider the aforementioned Great Detective, Mr. Sholmes” (KEEP THIS LINE IN MIND), and brings up the security cameras (S)Holmes planted at the pawnshop so that he can present a picture of the defendant waving a pistol at the victim. Why didn't he present this evidence immediately instead of asking two shady burglars to testify? Who even knows, man. He's being erratic, just as the judge said. The jurors have seen enough and vote guilty, so it's time for a Summation Examination! Van Zieks poured himself another glass of wine before Ryu even asserted his right to that, because he knew it was coming. He has to stand in silence and so he will drink.

(Juror No 1, aka Mr. Garrideb, proceeds to piss me off by oggling the maid juror. I thought the whole point of this character was that his wife misunderstood and jumped to conclusions; that she's been punishing him wrongfully since he does indeed love her and will stand by her side no matter what, but apparently not.) Some tomfoolery later, we require the prosecution's help to prove stereoscopes are just as cool as wireless telegraphy.

I honestly think it's hilarious that he's meant to stay silent but has broken that rule several times, so now we're taunting him by asking him a direct question during the Examination. So after it's been proven the two criminals moved some stuff around inside the pawnshop, four jurors vote not-guilty and the trial continues. The two witnesses get called back to the stand and---

… Okay. So he definitely is against perjury. He seems to hate it, even. He apparently keeps giving them the evil eye as they testify, intimidating Ringo into telling the truth. But I just can't shake the memory of him feeding a lie to Shamspeare in Memoirs of the Clouded Kokoro. Also, the game very much caught me off guard during this testimony when I presented a piece of evidence which wasn't correct, but instead of leading to a penalty led me to a unique set of dialogue not found when presenting other wrong evidence. That is to say, I presented a picture of Gina holding the sole gun to disprove the testimony that both she and Windibank were wielding guns, which led to:

Isn't that what we often do in these games? Van Zieks clearly hasn't been paying attention. Anyway, the judge points out that so long as I couldn't prove that Gina was still holding the only gun some time later, when Windibank was shot, the evidence wasn't relevant. So I had to present the picture of Windibank's body (not holding a gun) instead. Ryu manages to point out through that picture that the Skulkin brothers were lying and-

OKAY OKAY. I GET IT. Van Zieks hates perjury with a burning passion and Memoirs of the Clouded Kokoro messed up. The trial continues on to the point where Ryu manages to suggest that the Skulkin brothers shot Windibank and Gina then locked the door to save herself. At first Van Zieks is shocked at the notion, but after Ryu details his logic, he just puts his hands down on the desk and chuckles.

This is the first time we see something close to laughter from him, and it's not even really laughter. It's just a malicious, bitter little noise. In fact, we've never seen him smile. He's not even smiling now, as he cackles. That's a stark contrast from other prosecutors, who all smile/smirk as they gloat. Barok's facial expression barely changes at all. Are they building up to something? Anyway, the judge wonders why Van Zieks finds this amusing, as he found the argument quite persuasive himself. Van Zieks pours himself another glass of wine and says:

“But such blatantly malicious conjuring tricks amount to nothing more than inexcusable pettifoggery here. Because you see, it contains a fatal flaw!”

Scumbag points! He then proceeds to imply all the members of the jury are too dimwitted to count (as he flings his chalice). Bullets, that is. There were two bullets found at the crime scene and there were two guns recovered, each having fired one bullet. So if the Skulkin brothers had shot (S)Holmes, they couldn't possibly have shot Windibank as well.

Bye wine bottle, rip person sitting behind him. Van Zieks proceeds to slander Gina for being “far from a law-abiding citizen” and having “a past riddled with criminal misconduct”. To further illustrate his point, he presents a piece of evidence that the defendant attempted to steal the day beforehand, not with the subtlety of a pickpocket but by brute force and brazen impudence. Gregson loses it at this point, shouting out a loud “Hold it!” before losing his nerve and stammering his way through his protest. He mentions that there was a meeting with the prosecution service where it was agreed that piece of evidence wouldn't be used. Ryu is baffled and thinks this:

And now I'm baffled as well, because thinking back on it... Yes, Gregson has talked about Van Zieks before in Investigation segments and has been called in to testify, but as far as I can recall, he hasn't ever addressed Van Zieks directly. Fascinating stuff. Van Zieks says he's unaware of this meeting- probably because he found out Ryu's defending later on and snatched this case up at the last second. Perhaps even took it from the originally-assigned prosecutor with brute force and brazen impudence. Gregson insists that 'the government bigwigs' were very insistent about not using the disc as evidence, to which Van Zieks says:

Good gracious, Van Zieks is a loose cannon! … Or wait, maybe he's a reckless renegade? Or is he perhaps a prosecutor on the edge with nothing to lose? (Alright, put on a pot of coffee- we're gonna get to the bottom of this!) ...Either way, the prosecution thinks it's sufficiently made its case by establishing motive, opportunity and baseness of character.

OY! I thought you don't read third-rate detective stories! But Iris specifically wrote that line into existence, so he must have. Me thinks we've got a closet Adventures of (S)Herlock (S)Holmes fan on our hands, here. The jury buys into his slander, votes guilty, Iris accuses him of being mean and Ryu enters Summation Examination mode a second time.

Oh he knows what he's in for. He knows. Several minutes of talking about bullets later, the topic of (S)Holmes's waist pouch is brought up and Iris wonders whether perhaps the bullet hit one of the glass vials with flammable content. Van Zieks suddenly speaks up with an “If I may...”, catching the startled attention of Ryu in particular.

“I should inform the defence that I have the pouch in question in the antechamber outside the courtroom. As I understand it, when the police arrived on the scene and found Mr Sholmes injured, they removed the pouch in order to assess the wound. Since then, it has been in my safekeeping along with all other evidence relating to the case. I can personally vouch for the fact that it has not been touched since the incident occurred.”

This whole plotline cracks me up with how little sense it makes, considering the position of this pouch on (S)Holmes's outfit. But I'm not here to criticize plot-convenience of evidence, so let's move on and look at what's actually happening here. The defense is discussing possibilities with the jurors in hopes of changing their minds towards a not-guilty and instead of keeping silent, as he's supposed to during this moment, Van Zieks actively speaks up to admit he has a piece of evidence which may be of assistance. It's entirely possible that the pouch would have all three vials intact and thereby dismiss the theory that the bullet hit one of them, but... Regardless of whether he remembers seeing a broken vial with his own eyes, he's taking a risk by showing the pouch. He could've played by the Summation Examination rules, kept his mouth shut and then later when it comes out he had the pouch all along, just remind everyone he wasn't allowed to speak. That's what most prosecutors would've done. Naturally, it's revealed there was indeed a broken vial and some scorched leather, and even closer examination reveals a third bullet we can present to the jurors.

Scumbag point! So with all the confusion on the third bullet and the implication of there being a third gun, the judge does something pretty extraordinary. He doesn't wait for the jurors to change their leaning and instead actually suspends the Summation Examination until the matter is cleared up. This implies any judge has the power to overrule juror leanings, at the very least during Summation Examination, when they feel the case presented by the counsels is lacking important details. Anyway, closing argument on hold for now and the Skulkins return to the stand. Barok looks them straight in the eyes with his usual evil eye and asks them whether the third gun is one of theirs. When that's denied, he asks whether they had an accomplice, which is also denied. And it's kind of funny, because only a few minutes later when Ryu implies they had an accomplice, we get this line:

“Yet in all that time, there has been not a murmur of a third man. If this apparently wraithlike being exists...” pause for chalice crush... “The court must be shown hard evidence!”

But Van Zieks was the one who questioned the Skulkins about an accomplice earlier, so... Indeed, we don't have evidence, but the murmur was definitely already there. So now the prosecution wants two things: evidence there was a third person on the scene and their identity. The game prompts two options: Either present an answer to the prosecution's demands or, y'know, don't. Naturally I chose the latter option to see what happens and it goes about as well as you'd expect. Ryu stutters and trails off, Van Zieks notes the defense is unable to complete a sentence, let alone provide credible answers... Iris takes the place of Susato in telling Ryu off for faltering, so Ryu desperately tries to catch himself and push his argument. Van Zieks says: “So, my Nipponese friend, despite the swimming eyes you seem to think you have something to say...”

PENALTY FROM THE PROSECUTION, oh how I've missed you. Loading up the savegame and choosing the first option actually also leads to the exact same line of “so, my Nipponese friend, despite the swimming eyes you seem to think you have something to say...”, just with a slightly different posture and followed up with the words “this promises to be interesting.” Ryu presents the blood sample on the calendar once more and as I said before, the court acts as if they've never seen this picture before. Hilarious. Van Zieks asks why the blood is depicted as green and Ryu explains it's because of a new chemical (S)Holmes invented. The green blood is then linked to Eggert Benedict through the music disc. The court gets very excited, but much like the skin prints in case 2-2, this isn't admissible evidence. Van Zieks says “this has gone on long enough now. This flagrant ignorance of the mechanics of law.”

“The protagonist in a series of short stories for the vulgar classes. A god of detection or some such. And now you employ chemical substances devised by this fantastical persona in the highest court in the land? Do you expect us to take you seriously? The samples made by this plaything are not fit to be called evidence.”

These lines! I had a quick look at both Scarlet Study's and Taisa's scripts, and there Van Zieks outright accuses (S)Holmes of being a fictional character. He doesn't actually diss the stories themselves though, nor is there anything similar to that plaything line. He only says the chemical itself is 'rubbish'. What ultimately kills me is the “Yes, I’ve heard the name” as if this is the first time it’s being uttered in the courtroom. Let's be merciful here and take case 2-2 out of the equation. Yes, (S)Holmes is mentioned several times there, they establish the two have some sort of history and he even enters the courtroom at one point to address Van Zieks directly, but that case was developed after this one so accidental retcon is bound to happen. No, let's look solely at the cases in the first game. (S)Holmes has been mentioned several times throughout the course of this trial, even by Van Zieks himself. Even better, Van Zieks was the one to present photographs taken by one of (S)Holmes's playthings earlier on. OOPS.

Ryu enters despair mode because there really is no way to prove that the color green is unique to Eggert Benedict, nor would it be accepted as evidence to begin with. But that's okay, because much like the skin prints in 2-2, it was never about having it filed as official evidence. It was about influencing the jury and as Iris so smartly points out, the Summation Examination was suspended earlier. This means that technically, it's still going on. It doesn't matter what the prosecution or the judge thinks of (S)Holmes's invention, it only matters what the jurors think, as they now have the power to force the trial to continue. Naturally, the majority votes not-guilty. Van Zieks objects rather ferociously. “My lord, with all due respect, this is an outrage! The prosecution refuses to accept this decision!” (heehee, I really enjoy these lines. With all due respect, indeed.) The judge asks on what grounds the prosecution is objecting, and Van Zieks says:

“Then they are too ignorant to be trusted with the judgement of anyone's guilt!”

Gosh, he really doesn't enjoy how 'gullible' the jurors are, does he? Or rather, he gets frustrated when the jurors begin to think for themselves instead of taking the prosecution's word for it. The judge sets Van Zieks straight by basically reminding him that this is how the court works.

It is so satisfying to watch him squirm. Van Zieks wants us to play by the court's rules, so we're playing by the court's rules and now he's got no more comebacks. This is it folks, we're subpoena-ing Egg Benedict! He does indeed show up to court after a brief intermission and reveals his true name to be Ashley Graydon. Graydon expresses haughty dismay that the highest court of the land was swayed by some self-professed detective's homemade tincture. Van Zieks tells him it was the will of the jury, and their great British justice system demands that the jury's will is upheld. Graydon calls the jury members inept, as Van Zieks has done many times before, but agrees to testify. Ryu attempts to needle this guy several times by asserting he was definitely at the crime scene, but indeed, the blood sample doesn't count as evidence and Ryu doesn't really have anything else to back him up. Van Zieks oh-so-kindly reminds him that the obligation to prove the defense's assertion lies with, well, the defense. Eventually we do get there and Graydon starts making up some bullshit story about how he met McGilded in a gentlemen's club and bonded with him over unique music box music, so that's what that disc was. Van Zieks points out that Yard have indeed been gathering items believed to have been McGilded's property, presumably to aid their investigations. Gregson once again loses his composure here and tries to shut the conversation down.

Gregson and Van Zieks continue to banter back and forth about how Gregson is definitely not allowed to talk about these things and Van Zieks should also know better than to pry. Even Ryu thinks it's strange the two of them are bickering like that. Anyway, we're not allowed to discuss the McGilded stuff, so back to Graydon and his breaking and entering! Van Zieks asserts that if the police confiscated the disc beforehand and Graydon saw this happen, there was no reason for him to break into the pawnshop anymore.

Oooh, that's some tasty triumph over Van Zieks's ignorance! Ryu brings up the second item pawned by McGilded, a 'small box'. Van Zieks insists that no such thing was stolen from the pawnshop and he can prove it, since he has a picture of the shelves from before the break-in and one from after the break-in. You know, the pictures taken by that idiot detective's silly little plaything! Through the magic of stereoscopes (or the 3D Slider in the 3DS version), Ryu can see that a small box was moved.

It's absolutely hilarious that most of the court has to go cross-eyed to do the stereoscope thing and then there's Van Zieks, with a fancy stereoscope device that he just happened to have with him in a trial he couldn't possibly predict would require a stereoscope. He's so extra! Ryu asserts that if the box was moved, they have to raise the question of what was inside it and send the Yard to retrieve that thing at once. Van Zieks objects, saying that “some little box belonging to a man who died two months ago can't possibly be relevant to this trial.” The judge doesn't see it his way, though, and overrules his objection. Nice! So officers are dispatched to Baker Street to fetch the box and Van Zieks grumbles to himself about being hoodwinked by a farce.

The judge once again doesn't take kindly to Van Zieks's attitude problems and I love this. I can't wait for the prosecution to be penalized, because it feels like it's right around the corner here. Van Zieks elaborates that this whole thing is nothing but a smoke screen; a Nipponese specialty. Scumbag points for this one! I can't entirely connect this to Professor foreshadowing, I think it's just him being petty. Either way, he's going to jump through hoops now. Mere minutes ago he established that the Yard is still investigating McGilded's stuff and the 'aftermath' of his activities, but he's flipping it all over now. He begins to talk about how McGilded died two months ago, immediately after the trial in which he was found not-guilty.

“So I propose a toast. To my learned friend, and his most... insightful defense.”

So the logic being used here now is that McGilded was a fine, upstanding citizen and anything he pawned was truly innocent/ordinary, so why would someone want to steal it? The only way to prove that there's more to these items than might be apparent would be for Ryu to reveal that the acquittal was a mistake and the defense's argument was based on false information. They all suspected this two months ago, though. It was made abundantly clear that the only reason McGilded walked free was because nobody could say for certain whether the evidence was tampered with. Either way, Ryu's cornered now and wondering to himself whether Van Zieks knows the items in question are related to the omnibus murder. He probably does. He has access to the evidence, which means he has access to to the pawn tickets which hold some very specific dates on them.

The game gives Ryu an option whether or not to have Gina testify about what happened two months ago, but this option isn't real. If you choose 'leave it', Ryu still decides within two lines of dialogue that they have to uncover the truth. There's no penalty for stalling. So Ryu calls for Gina to testify and Van Zieks definitely knows what's up.

“In particular, the impact it will have on the accused's standing... And indeed your own.”

So this is a warning, clear and simple. Van Zieks knows shit will hit the fan. Or, as he later phrases it, it will bring the court down around Ryu's ears. But Ryu insists upon the testimony, the prosecution agrees and Gina is put on the stand. The judge tells Graydon he can step down, Graydon promptly sees this as an excuse to leave and bids them all a good day, but Van Zieks tells him to wait.

Oh, this... I like this. By now, Van Zieks has caught on to Ryu's little trick of watching the reactions from other witnesses during testimonies. He's purposely making Graydon stand there and listen to Gina's testimony just in case he reacts in such an overdramatic way, Ryu can pursue it. Iiinteresting! Now it seems as if he's on our side, but we're not quite there yet. Before Gina can begin her testimony, Van Zieks reminds her that if it turns out she willfully withheld information two months ago, she'll be prosecuted for perjury. That's just an intimidation technique to get her not to reveal what she withheld. … Which is weird, because you'd think Van Zieks would want her to spill those beans. Either way, with some encouragement from Ryu and Iris, Gina begins to talk about the lies she told. Aaand we're ending the essay here for now, because we're only about halfway into this disaster of a trial and the plot will only thicken from here on out. Stay tuned for part 2 of The Unspeakable Story!

[gwynposting]

Justice (Ch. 1)

This is the start of an alternate ending for Cyberunk 2077, focused around Judy as she tries to help V rid herself of the relic without also shedding her soul in the process.

AO3 Link

The feigning scent of nicotine clouds leftover from the trapped remnants of Maiko’s cigarette sent itching pulses of desire through V’s body. The activation throughout her body startled and scared her. She didn’t smoke. She hadn’t puffed a stick in her life and yet she eased into it like she was sitting in a favorite chair. More than once had she caught herself reaching for a cigarette from Evelyn’s pack before swiping the inner thoughts of Johnny away.

The clack of Maiko’s stilettos began to fade into the background, “Maiko, hold up. Give us a lift?” Roxanne called out.

“Only if you don’t talk to me,” Maiko responded bitterly, “I feel a migraine coming on.”

She’s not the only one, V thought to herself. It almost felt like the cigarette fumes had been a trigger for it - like her brain was trying to associate the smell to memories that she’s never experienced before, that never existed. Flashes of seething bitter hatred and insecurity and jealousy pulsed through her veins came and went.

It took the breath out of her, and V had to brace herself with both hands to remain upright.

“Oh shit,” Judy said as she siddled besides V, “I’m scared, V.”

Judy looked down to her lap before continuing, “Speakin’ of gratitude… stuff I’m askin’ you to do, well - usually comes with a price tag, I know. You wanna help, I get that. But I’m more’n happy to pay your fee in full.”

V shifted her weight to her right arm so she could wave Judy away with her left, “C’mon Judy, you serious? Out of the question.”

“Bu-” Judy tried to make her case.

“Ah ah ah,” V tutted, “Not… not a word,” dizziness began to set in - her head began to swim and V found it difficult to even complete a sentence. She tried to provide a smile of assurance, but by the expression on Judy’s face, she wasn’t buying it.

“You okay V?” Judy reached out and placed a hand on V’s knee.

V looked up to meet Judy’s concerned eyes, which she could only meet with her own - unfocused and strained. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, just a long day.”

“How ‘bout I call a cab then,” Judy soothed.

“Preem,” V replied, before placing both hands on her knees and trying to lift herself up from the couch. “Thanks -” she began before what felt like electricity shot through her nervous system.

V clutched her head in agony as if it would stop the cosmic force tormenting her from using her skull as a sharpening stone. Every scrape and slice caused by another memory overwriting her brain, another one of her memories lost to time as one more of Johnny Silverhand’s took its place. 

RELIC MALFUNCTION DETECTED

V’s legs gave out from under her. She reached out for the couch’s siding to fall back onto.

But she was far too weak to support herself, and her legs began to give out from under her until she collapsed on the cushion below.

 “V? Are you okay?” Judy’s voice sounded distant.

She barely even heard Judy. She was breathless, her heart raced. She was staring down the barrel of Dexter Deshawn and he had just put a bullet through her skull.

“V?” Judy’s words became more desperate, “Talk to me.”

It sounded like V was underwater and all she could hear were the muffled desperate cries of Judy, until finally Judy reached out and shook her shoulder.

“V,” Judy stressed, “please.”

But as quickly as the searing pain shot through her body, it soon dissipated.  Yet she continued to stare forward, past Judy and into the distance - she still stood down the barrel of Deshawn’s .22.

“S-sorry to scare you like that,” V attempted a smile. Her cheeks were a deep scarlet, whether flush from the pain moments before or from the embarrassment of having Judy bear witness to one of her episodes.

“W-what the fuck, V,” Judy’s voice had a hint of shakiness, “are you like… sick?”

“Something like that,” V said with a gruff. She still felt in a sort of daze, her muscles struggled to keep herself upright. “How much you wanna know?”

Judy tilted her head, “Only what you want to, V. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

V looked off to the side before her eyes rested upon her lap, “Well,” V said with a choke that even caught herself off guard, “Might have bad news for you.”

She attempted to look Judy in the eye but faltered under their piercing worry, “You know the heist that Evelyn hired us for, the relic I was gonna klep?”

“Couldn’t forget that in a million years,” Judy said somberly.

“I’ll spare you the gritty details but… in short the chip we stole’s stuck in my head. The chip is keeping me alive, but it’s also slowly killing me.”

Judy seemed taken aback, “You bein’ serious?”

“Sounds like a lot, I know. Truly wish it was all bullshit, believe me.”

“Fuck,” Judy muttered under her breath, “Anything at all you can do?”

“One can hope,” V withered.

Judy gave a sad smile, “It’s late, you’re tired. You can crash here for the night if you’d like,” Judy gave a reassuring pat on the knee to V.

V could only nod in return, “Thanks, Jude.”

Judy stood up and walked back to her room while V took the opportunity to kick off her boots and lay down on the couch. There wasn’t a pillow to lean on, but V couldn’t care less - she was already half asleep by the time her cheeks touched the couch.

“I got some pillows and a blanket for -” Judy cut herself off as she saw V fast asleep on her couch, arms splayed out and face straight down. She couldn’t help but smile, “Pssh, fuckin’ gonk.”

Judy shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, creeping up to the sleeping merc. With as careful a touch as she could, she cradled V’s head in one hand as she slipped a pillow underneath. She then took the blanket and splayed it atop her body.

Judy looked down upon V’s form and found it hard to take her eyes away. To see such a force of nature so vulnerable, so… 

Adorable…

It sent butterflies to the pit of Judy’s stomach.

But in the same moment those butterflies turned to boulders, sinking within as she felt the gravity of the emotions within - vulnerability.

Of course she’s fucking dying, the dark thoughts appeared in Judy’s head. And while they were immediately beaten back down by conscious thought, she wasn’t able to push down the underlying fear that she’d open herself up to someone once more, only to lose them to the inevitable grind of Night City’s heel. But her mind was no more hostage to her first impulse as she was to her second - there was an ever present war taking place within her.

 How could I be so selfish? She’s fucking dying and I immediately make it about myself.

Judy hadn’t even realized she’d reached for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket until her other hand failed to locate her lighter. Deciding she didn’t want to bother having a fight with herself on a nicotine-deprived brain, she waited until she was back on the roof of her building, lit cigarette in hand, staring out to the NC skyline.

Is it too much to ask for just one thing to go right, she asked herself.

Yet Judy quickly reminded herself, You’re acting like she’s your girlfriend already.

Judy cursed herself at even the thought - she didn’t even know if V was even into women. She took a heavy draw from her cigarette before flicking it off the balcony.

***

Judy’s gaze lingered on V’s sleeping form. Maybe she was looking a bit too close - her eyes focused on a couple strands of hair drooped over V’s face. She had the overwhelming desire to sweep them back over the merc’s ear, but ultimately decided not.

“Goodnight, V.” 

***

Sharp cracks raced through the air. Although used to the familiar tenors, V shot up in an instant - her hair raised on end, breath rapid, and heartbeat racing. More gunfire sprung forth, followed by the screeching squeal of rubber against pavement. The gripping roar of motorcycles soon began to fade into the streets of Kabuki.

V clutched her chest as she tried to calm herself down. She was fine.

For now.

But as the adrenaline began to fade, the throbbing headache leftover from last night’s attack took its place. V groaned in pain as she began to feel her own heartbeat through her head.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Judy called out.

V turned to see Judy in the kitchen making breakfast. She tried to match the energy Judy was bestowed but could only manage a pained half-smile. “Helluva alarm clock.”

“Things have been getting hot between Maelstrom and the Tyger Claws lately,” Judy sighed, “it doesn't help that I live on the border of their territories.”

Judy paused what she was doing and instead took a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee from the pot. She also grabbed a pill bottle and doled out a couple in her hand and brought them both over to V.

“Coffee and,” she held out her hand for V, dropping its contents into her hand, “ibuprofen. And I hope you like ham.”

“Wow,” V replied, “thanks, Judy. And yeah, I love it.”

“Least I can do.” Judy said with a smile before returning to the kitchen.

Least I can do, she repeated in her thoughts.

V tossed both tablets in her mouth and washed it down with several large gulps of coffee. The scalding liquid coating the inside of her mouth was the least of her concerns, she needed caffeine inside her ASAP.

When Judy was finished, she brought over a fresh ham sandwich. V took it and scarfed it down, only to blush as she realized what a messy eater she was being.

Wiping her lips clean, she looked up to see Judy sitting on the couch a ways away looking vaguely concerned, “Sorry I uh, freaked you out last night.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Judy asked.

V rubbed her neck, not wanting to lay it all on Judy at once, “It’s not usually that bad.”

“C’mon, V. Cut the shit. What’s really going on?”

“No gettin’ around this, huh?” V asked, but really it was more a statement of fact, knowing Judy.

Judy gave a half smile, but it gave away her underlying fears and doubts, “I’m worried, V.”

Something deeper pierced V, she couldn’t pinpoint it. All she knew was she couldn’t deny Judy this request, “You want the long version, then?”

“Call it a thanks for breakfast,” Judy smirked.

“Might want to get comfortable then. Because well, shit, where do I begin?” V thought for a moment before continuing once more, “So, my choom and I, big guy named Jackie, tangled with this hotshot fixer, Dexter Deshawn.”

“He’s the one who put you in contact with Evie?” Judy asked.

V nodded, “Mhm, as well as make us run some errands,” V said with a scoff, “but anyways, the job was to hit Konpeki Plaza, right? Klep some biochip that the son of ‘Saka was stealing for himself.”

“Which is why you came in for the braindances,” Judy affirmed.

“Exactly. But the job went wrong, as you know. I lost Jackie getting out of Konpeki. And…”

“...and?” Judy said, softly, not wanting to sound too impatient.

“I died, Judy. I fucking died.” V shuddered at the thought.

“Are you… are you joking right now?” How are you alive?” Judy leaned forward in disbelief.

“Remember that chip we were stealin’? Well, the container got busted when we were escaping. The next best place to store it was hooked into one of our brains, apparently. Jackie took the honors initially but… well….” V shook her head, “So I slotted the shard in myself after Jackie died.”

“I’m sorry, by the way. Truly,” Judy soothed as she scooched closer across the sofa so that she was now in touching distance between V.

V could really only offer a smile of acknowledgement in return, for she felt nothing but agony when she looked inward. “Guess the biochip was my saving grace - Dexter Deshawn double crossed me, put a bullet in my skull. I died then. But the craziest part is that the chip restarted my brain, god knows how much later. And I woke up to find myself in a junkyard in the badlands, covered in filth in debris.”

“J-Jesus fuck, V.” Judy’s voice hitched, “But I guess you made it out, all things considered.”

V nodded, “Got back only to realize I had the engram of a terrorist in my brain - Johnny Silverhand.”

“Woah, woah,” Judy waved, “engram?”

“Think of it like some digitized psyche, like if someone downloaded your entire brain and saved it to memory. His psyche is on the chip inside me.”

“Okay okay, so like the ‘Saka commercials just… just in your brain.”

“Yeah, something like that. But I guess when it restarted my brain, the chip began erasing me and writing in Johnny.”

“Fuck,” Judy stuttered. “So you’re becoming Johnny Silverhand?”

“Yeah,” V’s voice cracked, tears began to form on high cheekbones. “In a few weeks’ time, I’ll be someone completely different. I won’t even exist.” 

Judy instantly moved to V’s side and wrapped an arm about her, pulling her close. “I wonder what it’ll be like to die for a second time,” V pondered dryly. 

“Is there really nothing you can do?” Judy almost pleaded.

“There’s a few leads. I’m waiting to hear back from a fixer that can put me in touch with the Voodoo Boys, and I still need to look into finding the lead researcher for the biochip.”

“Ok,” Judy breathed deeply, “Alright. Then you focus on that, okay? And listen, I know you said you’d help out with Clouds but this is your life on the line here, V, I’d completely understand if you back out.”

“I said I was helping Judy, and that’s final.” 

V’s assuredness sent a shiver down Judy’s spine - her unwavering voice, despite cracked with emotion moments before, her steadied eyes, still reddened from irritation and tears yet firm in their conviction, and the almost offended expression on her face to even suggest that she’d go back on her promise. 

“Then... keep me posted? About how it goes... If you want,” Judy stumbled over her words. “I want to help if I can.”

“Of course, Judy. And thanks,” V smiled in appreciation.

Even the slightest gesture made Judy’s heart flutter. This gonk will be the death of me. 

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

Lex Luthor: I actually really like him and Supergirl made me mad

     So, Lex Luthor is a very interesting, sometimes thought provoking, but most of all very enjoyable character.

     Lex is many things, a classic egomaniacal villain, an example of what lies can do to a relationship, a walking, talking red flag, a warning of how hubris and jealously can destroy you, and much, much more. He is not the typical strain of insane— if crazy at all, highly competent, and best of all knows every one of Superman’s buttons and exactly how to press them.

     I love watching Lex in every media I’ve ever seen him in going back to the original Christopher Reeve Superman. Every media, that is, except Supergirl. Why?

     Because she isn’t fucking Superman.

      Obviously, I love Supergirl— I run a blog with her in my icon— but there are certain things she is not and was never meant to be. Nemesis to Lex Luthor is right up there with a mass-murdering nazi (which is why the multiverse exists-- so that you can make her the first super on earth, Lex Luthor’s ex-friend, and not completely ignore the foundation of who they are as characters)

     Lex is fun because he’s so smart, but also because of the personal stake he has with Superman. Lex felt jealous. In many cases, he felt betrayed. He let that fester into mania and then he built an evil radioactive robo-suit and committed mass murder. You know, like reasonable people do.

     Lex was Superman’s friend and that gives his hatred of Kryptonians not only purpose, but emotional weight. Their relationship has that itching tension of painful history. In addition, Lex is extremely prideful. To him, Supergirl would be second class, she’s backup. And there is a story there: a story when Lex has a breakdown when backup knocks him into the sun, or the (in my opinion, less entertaining) version where Superman shows up to save her, reaffirming Lex’s worldview that he’s everything and defeating Superman means that Lex is the greatest and smartest, and even more stories beyond those that still adhere to its core principles— Kara and Lex as characters.

     But Supergirl chose neither. Instead they chose another recycle Superman plot. And then another. And another.    

     I should make time to say that I like Jon Cryer; I think he’s doing a great job with what he’s been given. He’s got the charisma. He’s got the smarmy self-congratulating swagger down perfectly. The scenes where the real Lex pokes its ugly head through his facade are just great. I think in anything else he would have made an excellent Lex Luthor, but not here.

     I was… disappointed with season 4. I liked 4x20– Kara and Lena investigating was fun at worst and at best had some really good edge of my seat moments. I thought that 4x16 “The House of L” was one of the best episodes of supergirl in a very long time and it still holds its place at least in my top 10, probably my top 5. But you will notice Lex wasn’t even in 4x20 and his places in 4x16 I actually enjoyed could easily have been occupied by any other intelligent villainous character. From a very basic point of view Col. Haley would have fit the mold of the manipulator training the compassionate but confused alien to kill— Wouldn’t have been her first time.

     The later usages of Lex in Supergirl are also attempting a common Superman plot. Lex “redeems” himself, tricks the public into trusting him again by framing Superman for something, and eventually is once again revealed to be evil. It sounds like a repetitive, boring plot that would lose the audience suspension if belief after a few tries— “Seriously, this again. How are they not expecting this by now?” And that complaint works for Supergirl. Because Supergirl isn’t Superman.

     Clark Kent was Lex Luthor’s best friend. Clark Kent ignored every warning sign and red flag waved in his face because Lex Luthor was his best friend. Clark Kent harbors a deep, abiding hurt and resentment from Lex’s betrayal. He has no trust for Lex, just like any hero would, but he also has the built up anger from repeated clashes with Lex and the initial betrayal. So when Lex returns, once again proclaiming he’s changed his ways, Superman’s response is a very public, very obviously bitter “yeah, right.” When Lex lays one of his traps for Superman, Clark is a little too rash. Lex Luthor knows how to push all of Clark’s buttons, even if he doesn’t know that they’re Clark’s. Lex can play him like a fiddle, and as for the general populace— would you be so steadfast in your trust of the invulnerable alien that could laser you in half in the blink of an eye and seems to be getting a little too comfortable in his role as peacekeeper? Would you, when even the slightest chance could slaughter your entire planet and you would have nothing and no one would could stop him— except, of course, Lex Luthor?

     We’ve been shown through many media that when Lex can’t manipulate his opponent, when villain comes that is simply too big for him to work on, he is at incredible risk. There are several stories I can think of of the top of my head where Lex becomes a temporary ally of the heroes simply because he realizes he can’t manipulate this new, powerful player and that therefore they are a risk to him (I actually really like those stories because the dynamics between him and the heroes are incredibly fun and interesting— you start to get an idea of who Lex is underneath all of the wit and ego).

     This is Supergirl’s great failure with Lex. The show understands that he is a genius— makes a great fuss about it. They understand that he is a manipulator— it’s his entire plot line with Lena. But they fail to understand that Lex’s ploys don’t work because he’s just so smart like the smartest ever. They work because he knows Superman and he knows that people are afraid of him— even the ones who trust and love him live with the knowledge that if he gets mind controlled or goes crazy, he could kill them all with ease, and that it’s happened before.

     Supergirl wasn’t around for Lex’s turn. This Supergirl wasn’t even in that steady of contact with Clark. She has no stinging betrayal, no anger and bitter history to make her rash and predictable. Certainly by now, two seasons into Lex’s placement in the show, she is angry— but by all the evidence we’ve been given, Kara’s anger just makes her more volatile, unpredictable and sometimes genuinely down for murder, which is definitely not something Lex needs. We have seen her both let Lex “fall to his death” (when she wasn’t all that angry— she just accepted his suicide without trying to force him into prison) and nearly shoot him with laser vision (this time she was angry and emotionally unstable after the death of Argo and the more Lex centered anger that he revealed her identity and destroyed her relationship with Lena. There is no question that she would have killed-- or at the very least maimed-- him if The Monitor hadn’t intervened). If Superman just murdered Lex when he got angry, he would have died a dozen times over.

     Lex doesn’t even have a basic understanding of Kara’s mindset. He can’t. Superman was raised by American humans in Kansas— he has a worldview that Lex could easily pick up on because it is at least based on watching most of the same events unfold as they grew up— and that’s if they had never met before they started fighting. Sure, he could assume Superman had some quirks from being an alien, but the base Americanized cultural standpoint was already affecting Lex’s machinations because he was an American. He’s familiar with the culture and values Superman follows— not so with Kara. I don’t even know if it was possible for him to obtain information on her religion, let alone the cultural views on justice. His research on her past fights would have been choppy at best, given that there are so many things that only Kara or the other Superfriends were there for. He can’t have the information about that fight on Mars where Kara literally disintegrated at least 3 white martians. He can’t know what happened with Reign beyond “she’s not going to be a problem anymore”. He might have more information about the Daxamite invasion through government records and his mother but the information is still limited. As for Non and Myriad, we don’t even know what happened to Non, and did they report to the DEO that J’onn literally tore Indigo in half (very graphically I might add). Or did they just say “They won’t be a problem anymore.” Lex may have been spying on Kara since Season 2, but how much is watching her civilian life going to help him understand her, when Kara’s civilian life was constructed to hide? Kara Danvers doesn’t say a lot of what she thinks to avoid notice, and even Supergirl keeps her mouth shut a lot of the time to try and maintain human-alien relations. The episodes where she squabbles with the Col. Haley and President Baker are full of her smiling and gritting her teeth through statements that clearly make her very angry.

     Lex “falling to his death” and then getting shot at the end of season 4 was a great moment— it fit with the characters motivations, but it also unfortunately illustrated the problem with Supergirl characters interacting with Lex. J’onn was a soldier who kills people. Kara has killed people. Alex has killed people. This scene was not the first time we watched Lena try to murder someone with that gun. They are not restricted by the moral code Superman uses, which makes it both more difficult and more dangerous for Lex to try manipulating them— so he doesn’t and instead they skip the intermediary and rely wholly on him being able to manipulate the public. This works to an extent with Red Daughter, but only because anti-alien sentiment was at an all time high with the Children of Liberty, and because Lex lucked into an amnesiac supergirl clone. So little of the heavy lifting was actually done by Lex it feels less like his accomplishment and more like he cheated off of 3 different people and then bragged about his math skills. I said it before and I’ll say it again. The season 4 villain could have been anyone with moderate intelligence and resources. After crisis, the excuses just get weaker and weaker. I mean come on, he confessed to trying to mind control the whole world in front of the jury while screaming vile things at his sister who’s sitting there visibly flinching at his words and they unanimously voted not-guilty? Are you kidding? (Also after watching all the courtroom scenes in Supergirl... do they know how courtrooms work? I mean, I laughed as hard as anyone at the “I plead the 5th” line, but seriously. Do they?)

    And Crisis was… a choice. I personally hated that they brought Lex back to life— more so because the in-universe reasoning was so weak. Lex Luthor does not face a whole lot of consequences, it’s true, but that’s because he has the genius, guile, and money to avoid them. To give him such an unearned out— especially after all the damage he’d done by dying— really hurt the both the stakes and the character. Lex is a human, and he fights Superman by taking advantage of very human things: corruption, anger, and fear as well as ingenuity and resourcefulness. He loads the deck in his favor— he doesn’t win on luck. And Lex in the CW Supergirl, seems to only win on luck. First he finds Red Daughter right when anti-alien sentiment is blowing up, then he is resurrected, then he finds out the crisis world loves him. He has had exactly 1 major victory based on his own work— manipulating Brainy. A manipulation which was really hard to believe when Brainy was, in canon, much, much smarter than Lex, familiar with his tactics, lying to the superfriends for no reason, and had no emotional reaction to cloud his judgement. 

      And even so, this one plot line was one of the more interesting ones in season 5 and the most Lex Luthor-like plot line the show has had. Even when I felt my suspension of disbelief slipping, it wasn’t entirely in tatters. Lex’s win felt somewhat earned. 

     He has been in the show for 2 1/2 seasons and he has had 1 major victory that felt at all earned. 2 and 1/2 seasons. That’s currently around 45% of the show’s run time.

     All in all, we have 4 deeply related problems that plague the CW Supergirl Lex Luthor:

Lex Luthor’s plans rely as much on effective manipulation of Superman as they do on his own genius. Without that manipulation, his victories rely much more on happenstance and luck, making them feel less earned.

Lex Luthor cannot effectively manipulate Supergirl— at the very least, not in the beginning of their relationship, which CW Supergirl focuses on— nor does he try to manipulate her or much of the cast beyond Lena and once with Brainy.

Supergirl kills people. Supergirl has killed Lex. Superman doesn’t kill people.

Lex fighting Supergirl does not have the kind of inherent emotional weight that Lex fighting Superman does.

     There are some other issues I have with the CW supergirl version of Lex, but I think if it was a Superman show I wouldn’t have minded. The large amount of screen time dedicated to him would make sense there, and the fact that he’s a cockroach seemingly impervious to any plot consequences would also fit more in line with Superman’s increasing frustration and make his manipulations more effective.

     The only problem I have that wouldn’t been solved purely by making it about Superman is the crowding problem. In season 1, Non and the DEO were highly connected and fed each other as villains. Season 2 also fit that same block of alien vs. anti alien. Both of those secondary villains (the army/DEO in s1 and Cadmus in s2) were very much not as big a villain as the main. Season 3 sort of had a secondary villain with Morgan Edge, but he was mostly just a Lena problem. All of these seasons had a good balance between the villains screen time and also between the villains and heroes. It got a little more complicated with the extra world killers in s3, but still functioned fairly smoothly with focus on Reign. This is one of the main reasons that seasons 1 and 3 are my favorites. S4, however, got more cluttered. A lot more cluttered. Manchester Black, the Children of Liberty, Lex Luthor, Red Daughter, and Eve Tessmacher were all villains with multi-episode arcs handled directly by Supergirl herself. There was too much to cover, not enough connection, and not enough time— plus 2 new main cast members (Look, I love Nia and Brainy but that season had way too much going on). Season 5 had Leviathan, Lena Luthor, Lex Luthor and 2 new mains. Each of those villain arcs had their own distinct plot from one another and screen time started to become more choppy and spread out. Season 6 now has so far Lex Luthor, the phantom zone, and Nyxly, as well as the Zor-El mini-arc, and while I’ll give them some leeway for Melissa Beniost’s maternity leave, there is again too much in too little time. Villains are underdeveloped or not given weighty closures, each main gets less and less personal screentime, and every shot that doesn’t serve a good or entertaining purpose feels like pouring out water from a canteen in the desert, especially now in the last season. Lex has greatly suffered for this both in the rage at how much screen time he gets compared to other characters, Kara in particular, and because of how his arcs are still hobbled by the lack of it.

    I just find myself wishing they’d restricted Lex to a 3 or 4 episode mini-arc, or just season 4 and saved him for the Superman and Lois show. They could have played the crisis resurrection as just an unfortunate coincidence of fate and had it be Superman’s problem from there on. 

    To Jon Cryer, may you never see this. It’s so very not your fault.

If anyone actually reads this whole thing and I got something wrong let me know. I’d love to discuss it. Today, I’m just trying to isolate the main issues I have with Lex in Supergirl. 

[protecticarus]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I love your fics, they’re absolutely amazing. Anyway... bit of an odd request but can I get an angsty fic where Dirk realizes he’s in love with Todd? (and proceeds to do nothing about it) The amount that I kin Dirk might be a little concerning, and the amount that I associate my best friend of four years with Todd (and they agree) might be a bit concerning. Especially since I just figured out... whoops, I’m in love with them! (and let me tell you it HURTS) I’m almost 100% sure feel the same they’re just not at an emotionally stable point for me to tell them. (you know, much like Todd) So I know it seems a bit silly and weird, but I think it might help me cope a bit to see Dirk in a similar situation, feel less alone

hi anon! i’m sorry you’re stuck in such a complicated situation. i hope it all works out in the end. i can definitely relate to dealing with things by reading about a similar experiences and relating to fictional characters a little too hard. just remember that what you’re feeling is valid and no pain is permanent. x

i hope this does the trick!

~

The tv screen flickered between a diverse selection of images, the sound cutting off well before a full phrase could be heard.

“I regret the day I taught you how to use the remote.” Todd told his friend from the kitchen.

“What on earth for?” Dirk absent-mindedly replied while switching the channel, yet again. He had already kicked off his shoes and was now comfortably lounging on Todd’s couch.

Todd rolled his eyes. “Definitely not because you switch the channel about 187 times a minute.” He replied.

Dirk scoffed. “Poppycock.”

“God, you’re so British.” Todd murmured. “Just pick a channel, Dirk.” He added, louder.

“Fine!” Dirk said and lifted his finger off the button. “There’s some sort of apocalypse film on, we can watch that?” He added after he registered the image of a large fire on the screen.

Todd poked his head out of the kitchen long enough to see the screen. “Hate to break it to you, Dirk, but that’s the news.” He said.

Dirk’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, the world’s going to shit. Pick something else.” Todd told him.

“You just told me to stop changing the ch-“

“Just pick something other than the news, Dirk, Jesus.” Todd interrupted.

Finally after a few more channel jumps, Dirk settled on a rerun episode of Friends.

Soon, Todd sat down next to him on the couch and handed him a cup. “Here.”

Dirk furrowed his brows. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Your tea.” Todd said, already focusing on the tv.

“You made me tea?” Dirk asked.

“Yeah, you usually drink tea at this time of day, right?” Todd replied, his eyes never leaving the screen.

“Y-Yes, I suppose I do.” Dirk replied. He had no idea that Todd had taken notice of his tea drinking habits. “What kind of tea is it?” Dirk asked.

Todd scoffed. “That one- you know, your favorite one.” He replied.

Dirk lifted the cup to his face and sniffed. It was indeed his favorite tea. “You know what my favorite tea is?”

Todd finally turned to look at him, with an amused expression on his face. “Yeah, of course. You drink it all the time.” He said and turned back towards the tv.

Dirk just turned to stare into his tea. “Thank you.” He said quietly.

“Sure.” Mumbled Todd, like it was no big deal.

But it was to Dirk.

The only time another person had made Dirk tea was when he ordered it from a barista in a coffee shop. And then he had to specifically instruct them to make it the way he liked it. But here was Todd, knowing this about Dirk, just by paying attention. By caring enough to take notice.

Dirk lifted the cup to his lips in an attempt to hide his growing smile. Todd had made him tea.

As Dirk took his first sip of the tea, he turned his eyes toward Todd, who was still watching the tv. The tea was a little weaker than Dirk himself made it and still a little too hot to really enjoy but... It was made by Todd. For Dirk.

Despite all his claims of being an asshole, Todd’s affection for those he cared about was clear as day in the little things he did. It was one of the reasons Dirk loved him.

Dirk spit some of his tea back into the cup, shocked by his own train of thought. Todd turned to look at him.

“Ew.” Said Todd. “Is it bad?” He asked.

“No! No, not at all.” Dirk hurried to reply. “Just hot.” He added.

“Oh, okay. Let it cool down.” Todd said and turned back toward the tv.

“Good idea.” Dirk said, his attention already far away from the conversation.

Obviously by ‘one of the reasons he loved Todd’ Dirk had meant ‘one of the things he loved about Todd.’ There was a clear distinction between the two. You can love things about a person without loving the person.

As soon he’d tried to tell himself this, Dirk knew the truth. He loved Todd. And not just that, oh no. He loved Amanda and Farah, sure. But he loved Todd. He was in love with Todd.

Dirk felt the sudden urge to list all the swear words he knew - which would be an extensive list - but he decided against it, as he didn’t feel like explaining this course of action to Todd.

Dirk felt dumb. How could he not have realized this before now? Clearly it was not a new development. He felt the exact same way about Todd that he had prior to this day. The same way he had felt about him for a while. Only now he knew what it was.

He would have liked to pretend he was mistaken, chalk it up to not having previous experience with being in love, but Dirk knew better. If you’d asked him a year ago what being in love felt like, he’d have shrugged his shoulders and replied with something along the lines of ‘I haven’t the slightest clue!’ and go on about his day.

But now? He knew exactly what that particular emotion was.

It was the warm tidal wave in his stomach whenever Todd laughed at something he said. It was the sudden burning in his cheeks when Todd touched him. It was the rib-cracking pain when Todd was hurt or in danger. It was the ineffable pull he felt coming from Todd, constantly begging for Dirk to come just a little bit closer.

Dirk had never given much thought to the popular idea that when you’re in love, you just know. It was incredibly cheesy. Yet, as it turns out, surprisingly accurate.

Dirk fought the urge to groan out loud. This had not been part of his plan. The plan was: befriend Todd, start a detective agency with Todd and work with Todd. That was it. Much like the little girl with the red cape from that morbid children’s story Todd had told him about, Dirk had strayed far from the assigned path.

In so many ways, Dirk was eccentric. He had never fit any ready-made mold, he had never fit any stereotype. And now here he was. In love with his best friend. What a cliché.

Dirk’s bitter musings were suddenly interrupted by a loud laugh coming from the man next to him. Dirk turned his attention to Todd, who seemed to be thoroughly amused by a woman with a turkey on her head dancing on the tv screen.

Todd’s laugh was like music to Dirk’s ears. His stupid, predictable ears.

Dirk too tried to focus on the screen rather than Todd’s side profile, only to witness the turkey-headed woman’s shock at her companion telling her he loved her by accident. It was clearly the first time she heard this confession and the man immediately tried to backtrack and deny ever having said those three words in the first place. Nevertheless, she seemed elated at this revelation. She kept repeating ‘you love me, you love me’ excitedly.

Dirk turned his attention back to the object of his affection. For a moment he imagined what Todd’s reaction would be to hearing those words from Dirk.

He’d like to imagine that Todd would react somewhat similarly to how the woman had on the show. Surprised, but overtly happy. Dirk’s eyes suddenly felt incredibly warm. He turned his gaze at the ceiling, hoping to will the tears not to leave his eyes.

He knew his feelings would not be greeted with overt happiness. A small part of him dared to believe that Todd wouldn’t be utterly disgusted by Dirk’s feelings for him. An even smaller part of him almost sort of entertained the idea that Todd might reciprocate. But Dirk also knew that even if those things would somehow be true, they would not change the outcome.

Todd was a mess. A mess Dirk loved dearly, but a mess nonetheless. Todd still believed himself to be an asshole, tightly wound in a web of self-hatred. Amanda was still giving him the silent treatment. He had yet to come clean with his parents about the lie he’d been living. He was still getting used to said lie actually becoming reality, one pararibulitis attack at a time. His apartment still showed signs of the Rowdies’ visit all those months ago, a fact that wouldn’t get taken care of until they started making more steady money at the agency. And then there was the agency. It was up and running, but still in its early stages, still finding its legs.

No matter how he might feel, Todd was in no place to hear that his best friend was in love with him. Dirk was one of the only stable pieces of the crooked Jenga tower that was Todd’s life. Dirk didn’t dare to think what would happen if he were to compromise that structural piece. It wouldn’t be fair to Todd. He needed a friend right now.

Dirk felt like in the span of about five minutes, everything he knew had been turned upside down, yet he ended up in the same place he started at. Turns out he was in love with Todd, but this would and could not affect his actions in any way.

Dirk felt a new flavor of sadness settle on his tongue. He loved Todd, but Todd could not know. Dirk loved him, but it could not be acknowledged outside of his own head.

Suddenly Dirk felt like he might burst with the way deep longing clawed at his chest.

But as he watched Todd, smiling and comfortable on the couch next to Dirk, he decided this was a good thing, not a bad one.

Dirk might have to prioritize being Todd’s friend over his less than platonic feelings for him, but he was more than willing to do that. For Todd.

Love, in all its forms, was a good thing. And Dirk had a lot of it. He might not be able to put it into words, but much like Todd himself, Dirk could let it bleed into the things he did. He could be there for Todd, and love him, without saying so. He could love Todd, even if he never said so.

After all, Todd deserved to be loved, even if he didn’t know it yet. But Dirk would make sure that he would know. Eventually.

“Dirk, drink your tea before it gets cold, I’m not getting up to make you a new one.” Todd said suddenly.

Dirk smiled and raised his cup to his lips again.

~

if you have any ideas for fics, send me prompts! my inbox is always open! xx

[beyoncesdragon]

Cause a scene (Poe Dameron)

Requested: NO

Warnings: just some cursing, jealous drama queen Poe and him being a tiny bit too okay with PDA 

Summary: Poe’s not one to be too possessive, he knows his place. It just seems as if one of the newbies does not know his place and Poe is pretty much determined to set that and some other things straight. 

A/n: i’ve got this idea whilst pretty much gushing about angry poe in that particular scene with the lovely @damnyoudameron​ I hope you enjoy it! She’ll probably release something similar too, so make sure to check her work out if you have time:) all the love<3

My Masterlist 

Of course he had no right to be jealous, he knew that. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, whether officially or unofficially. Certainly, you flirted like your life depended on it and you sure as hell were all over each other all the time – but you weren’t really a thing.

Yet he had been pretty sure that he had gotten his point across that you were not to be approached by anyone because quite frankly, you were his and the other way around. And Poe didn’t wanted to be a possessive lover – again, he wasn’t even your lover at last – and he knew that you weren’t really his even if you were an item…but he couldn’t help himself at times. Same thing with jealousy: even though Poe knew that he wasn’t in the place to be jealous, whenever he saw you with Brody, his jaw tightened and he had to either look away or leave the room. Brody was new at the resistance, a newbie and still quite green. He’s been assigned to Poe’s unit as Blue five (a thing Poe was at odds since the beginning of time) and served and flew under Leia’s (and ultimately Poe’s command) for a month now. And when Poe was an understanding and patient commander, known for not only his tendencies to do the opposite of the task given but also caring greatly for his squadron, he found himself struggling to cope with the newest addition to the team. The problem was not that Brody was one to talk back when he absolutely wasn’t in position to do so – though it obviously contributed to the loathing Poe felt against the man – but also the constant complaining about certain things. He seemed to know better about maneuvers, formations, weak spots of TIE-Fighters, tactics and even X-Wings at times. Constantly talking about the importance of not overheating the compressor system or the cryogenic power generator, when Poe clearly couldn’t give a shit less about that. Sure, an exploding power generator wouldn’t be fun, but Poe would surely not stop on some foreign planet just to check the eventual bad state of a generator. Either the whole thing blew up in his face or it did not, and as long as BB-8 or any another astrodroid didn't report on anything, overheated power plants were not Poe's biggest concerns. Especially not when hunting down a bunch of TIE-Fighters in the vast blackness of space.

True hatred for the fellow pilot had however only truly sparked when that annoying prick started to notice you, as you worked your way through every X-Wing after the landings. The quick check-ups with your team were not only a necessity but also where you could spend some quality time teasing the hell out of Poe. And he loved it, every snarky remark and cheeky wink you gave him, every smile and silent eyeroll of yours. It had went so far that you usually approached Black One first, letting your team take over the rest before you moved on to Oddy or Jessika. You had even started to teasingly call his X-Wing your very own child and always made sure to scold him about damages and dents he brought home. Like a caring mother you always patted the titanium alloy, giving Poe a disapproving look whenever you discovered a new scratch in the black ferrosphere paint. He’d always grin and either wrap his arms around you, or flee from your unbridled rage whenever he had completely messed up the shields again. Not that you would actually hit that mischievous little bastard, you’d admittedly died every time he took off and prayed for his return.

After all, Poe Dameron had an effect on you, like he had on every one, varying from never ending annoyance (definitely General Organa), hatred (the first order), a headache (Leia again), admiration (literally the whole hangar and piloting community) to faster beating hearts and sneaky glances (all the female and some male members of the resistance). And as much as you hated to admit it, the latter definitely applied to you.

When first you had tried to brush his flirting and compliments off, telling yourself that he basically did this with everyone, you too had soon sensed a change. The flirty comments became more recent and you were distinctively often aimed at you and you only, he had his eyes on you across the cantina or walked you to your dorm. He waited for you after lunch to take a walk like you mostly did, never let his X-Wing get checked by anyone but you. He had the habit of staring off people, wordlessly telling them to back up and not approach you ever. His hands were always somewhere on you, resting on your lower back, around your shoulders, in your hair, around your waist or his pinkie linked with yours. Now, Poe’s always been a touchy one, but when even your friends started to point out how incredibly handsy he was with you, you began to wonder. Maybe even hope, a bit.

Especially when he started to display some slight jealous behaviour whenever you talked to other guys longer than he found necessary. Not that he ever said it out loud, his body language just spoke for itself: straight back, tensed shoulders and a muscle in his jaw constantly clenching and unclenching. To your own amusement he always stayed quiet until the end before either walking over and dragging you to his X-Wing for some “changes and stuff” or wrap his arms around you somehow, indicating the conversation to be over now.

It was no surprise then when as Brody started to chat you up after missions, he was ready to flip a table.

He couldn’t believe his eyes when one day after another successful mission, the one person he disliked the most had the audacity to prevent you from coming over to him first. Smoothly pulling you into a conversation and swiftly distracting you from your intention to walk over to the now fuming commander first.

He was charming, you had to admit that. His attempts on hitting on you by complimenting your skills and whatnot didn’t go unnoticed by you, though they had little to no effect on you. Firstly because you sure as hell didn’t needed any confirmation from some newly recruited pilot, you knew your profession and your shit, besides, you were leading your team not because of luck. Secondly, as charming as Brody may seemed to be, you did have your eyes on someone else. Someone who’s wit and charm outmatched the blonde’s by far. But he was nice and you acknowledged that and saw no reason to treat him any different.

Quite the opposite of Poe actually, who was totally ready to smash in his control screens with Brody’s face, to get your attention back again.

After ten minutes of jealously waiting for you to finally come and check up on his ship, he decided to just simply get you himself. After all, he was the commander and he wanted you to himself for at least five minutes before having to share you with some irritating asshole again.

When you had seen him approach, your eyes lit up immediately, much to his satisfaction. You’d placed the clamp down immediately and met him halfway with a warm hug.

“Hello there flyboy.” Your voice muffled by his flying suit and arms still around his torso, he felt a wave of relief flooding though him.

“Evening love.” He had only managed to whisper before gently letting go to inspect your face. “You good?” he earned an eyeroll for that one comment. “Me? Which one of us just returned from a deadly mission from space? You or I? I should be asking that question, dumbass.”

Long story short: the two of you were cute, and everybody knew and shared that opinion. Everyone except maybe Brody, who had a knack of ignoring the obvious and after similar episodes of him simply trying to snatch you away from Poe, Poe actively despised him.

So when he caught the two of you around one of the large holo-tables, after a mission that had been demanding anyways, he simply snapped. He’s already had a long day, he was already a bit needy for you especially after you had spent a ridiculously short time at his X-Wing. And when Brody rose his arm to place it softly around your waist, he saw red. That was the last straw and he was ready to strangle that fucking know here and there.

“Poe?” Finn sounded alarmed as Poe rushed past him, his eyes following his friends burning gaze to you. He immediately understood and extended an arm towards him, trying to hold the furious man back.

“Poe hold on a minute…” he tried, finding it hard to sound somehow like Leia, knowing about her being one of two people having the actual power to stop Poe from something. Though, not even Leia could, not always. The only one to truly control his extremely impulsive friend was you, and you were occupied right now.

“Let’s not have a scene now, yeah?” he tried again, Poe’s sleeves slipping from his fingers as the pilot angrily continued his way towards the two of you.

“No, let’s.” his voice was hoarse of anger and jealousy as he finally reached you. Eyes ablaze and fist clenched, and everybody made sure to stay out of his way.

“Y/N…” his voice made you snap around, immediately seeing it as an opportunity to shrug off Brody’s hands that had again settled on your waist. You turned around to Poe, eyes wandering over him with an amused sparkle in your eyes. He had already changed into a dark leather jacket, similar to yours actually and a greenish shirt. His hair was curled unruly still, single strands of black hair falling into his stern face.

And, you had never seen Poe so tensed up and ready to eventually riot, and you would lie if saying that it wasn’t attractive. With his eyes basically burning a hole into Brody and he hands clenched tightly he radiated the energy of a panther about to snap.

“Engine’s down again.” He only pressed out, his mind not even bothering to make up a good explanation why he was prone to end this conversation now. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked, in wide eyed innocence. “Forgot about it. BB-8 just reminded me.” He muttered, getting momentarily distracted by you adjusting his jacket. 

“Poe Dameron. When will you finally stop wrecking my beloved ship?” you mused, looking up at him with a twisted smile.

“Probably happened during that one moment when we split formations. In my opinion a tactical error, clearly that only…” Poe growled lowly, tensing up again and you quickly placed a hand on his chest.

“Oh yeah?” he snapped, his whole hatred against Brody laced with his spat out words. You raised to your tiptoes trying to get Poe’s attention back on you. It worked, but only for a split seconds, until Brody decided to open his mouth again and broadcast his wisdom.

“Yeah, every child knows that TIE’s attack in squadrons and therefore have the strength in blasting away a whole squadron easily. There is protection in a crowd, that also applies to the rules of space…” “The rules of space? That if an X-Wing explodes next to yours, the flying scrap simply goes around your engines in the process of getting hurled through space? Are those your rules of space?  By staying close you literally endanger the whole goddamn team you fucking…” you simply reached for his hand, silencing him quickly.

“What the fuck do you see in him.” he hissed under his breath, eyes darting down to you whilst Brody was trying to actually argue about that now. You sighed softly.

When you were highkey amused and smug about Poe’s obvious jealously, it bugged you that he actually believed you could feel anything more than mere friendship towards Brody. Not only because you literally had Poe Dameron around you twenty-four seven, but also because he just wasn’t your type. You were sure that there were people who were into lean, know it all, messy blond dudes with buzzcut, it just wasn’t your piece of cake.

Your eyes trailed over his angry face again. You made another attempt by carefully brushing over Poe’s jacket again, trying to flatten out wrinkles and just generally calm him down. You knew him well enough to know that if you couldn’t distract him soon, he’d have his hand at Brody’s throat in no time. Not that you could really blame him for it though.

Poe almost immediately reacted to your touch, shoulders slumping down a tiny bit. His hand finally found his place on your waist, his touch letting chills run through your body. You reached up to his neck, adjusting the thin silver chain with the ring that had caught itself in the collar of his jacket. He shivered softly at your touch and you couldn’t help but grin softly at his hyperawareness of your fingers on his soft skin.

“Let’s check up on my baby then.” You said softly, innocently tilting your head at him. The way you said it insinuated the possibility of you not only talking about the black starfighter but perhaps…Poe let out a breath he had not been aware of holding, looking down at you.

“Make sure to come back quickly after that. The conversation was just about to get good!” Brody winked with a laugh and Poe…it was enough, definitely and finally enough. Without hesitating a second, he cupped your face with both of his hands before smashing his lips down on yours. You froze for a second, overwhelmed and surprised by Poe’s sudden snap of character, but you quickly recovered and returned the kiss eagerly. After all, it was long overdue. A fire danced from his lips to yours, the warmth and neediness of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He bit down on your lip just lightly, enough to make you gasp softly and part you lips. But it was enough for him to quickly sweep over your bottom lip with his tongue as if to ask if you were okay with that. Of course you were, it took you a millisecond to grant him access and deepen the kiss. You could almost feel him smile against your lips before he backed off suddenly, looking satisfied and smug as ever. Then his gaze hardened, falling on Brandon again. 

“We’ll see about that.” And with that he turned around, hands still on your waist and making sure that finally everyone knew, to who the hell you belonged to.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR! [TEASER]

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.4k (full fic will be 20k+)

RELEASE DATE — TBA, will probably take a while!

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, dark comedy if u ask me, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst

♪ aquartos - crystal city,, verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex

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. enjoy :D

i. TWO WEEKS SINCE THE MURDER

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, sometime 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 received a call from you, saying your father’s 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 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 is 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 other miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

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

you can only sigh. “i was his daughter by blood only. that’s all.”

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?”

“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.”

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’s eyes remain on you until you move past the corner. he only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

if you’d like to be tagged in this once it’s released, leave a comment! <3

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

[bitchin-beskar]

Folklore

Rating: M 

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, slightly vague descriptions of actual drug use, mentions of depression. This work may be triggering for some, so please, please, read these warnings before you read this story. 

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: PLEASE READ THIS! If for some reason you skipped the warnings, I’m imploring you to go back and READ THEM. This is not a joke, this chapter is very heavy, both in terms of emotion and content. This chapter is from Frankie’s point of view, and deals with themes of depression, and drug use. While I personally have never done cocaine, so the writing about that is limited to internet research, I do currently, and have for years, suffered from depression. So, trust me on this, I am not saying this lightly. IF YOU ARE WORRIED THAT THIS CHAPTER MAY TRIGGER YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ IT. I understand that different things trigger different people, and it would break my heart if one of you accidentally read this chapter without knowing ahead of time what it contains. I will leave a TL;DR at the bottom of this chapter, so please read that if you are worried about reading this chapter. I’m sorry for the long and sad A/N, and the sad chapter, but I am pleased to announce that the next chapter is mirrorball, which will be happy and fluffy and a change of pace from the last few chapters. I hope you still enjoy this!

Tags: @mxndoscyarika, @perropascal, @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379

Let me know either in the comments or an ask if you’d liked to be tagged in future chapters, or any of my other works!

my tears ricochet

He watched as the love of his life walked away from him, so different and yet somehow still the same as you were three years ago when you’d walked out of his life. 

He watched until you were out of sight, the skirt of your dress swishing around your legs, the high heels clicking quietly on the marble floors. It physically pained him to let you walk away, but he knew there was nothing he could do. 

You’d lied to him. 

He knew that.

Of course he knew. He’d known you since the two of you had been seven years old, you couldn’t lie to him any more than he could lie to you. So when you’d said you were happy, that Chase or Christian or whoever made you happy, he’d seen the lie in your eyes. But he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

You were the most stubborn person he’d ever met, and he knew that if he tried to call you on the lie, you’d deny and deny until you were blue in the face. So he’d let you go, and watched you walk away, knowing that you weren’t telling him the truth, but letting you go nonetheless. 

Frankie sighed deeply, running a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. The last thing he’d expected was to run into you here, but now that he had, he was confronted with all of the feelings he’d tried to shove deep down when you’d left. He knew it was his fault you’d left, and he’d never once blamed you, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

He should have known that his addiction would lead to this. You were strong, stronger than anyone he’d ever met, but he couldn’t expect you to shoulder his burdens as well as his own, it wasn’t fair. He’d already lost you once before–although, admittedly, that one was less his fault and more a combination of misunderstanding and scheming mothers and jealous classmates–and he’d sworn he wouldn’t let you go again, but he had. How could he try to hold onto you, when being with him was causing you so much pain?

He’d seen it in your eyes that night, when you’d come home to him, and he’d been high off his ass. The pain and sadness, the desperation as you tried to get him to understand. It hadn’t really clicked until the next morning that you weren’t coming back. He’d wanted to rage, to scream at the sky, to throw the blame on anyone and anything–except for you, never on you–but he hadn’t. It had been no one’s fault but his. 

He left the hallway, stopping briefly at the table to congratulate Joshua once more, before heading outside. He pointedly ignored your table, ignored how your fiancé was already planning your wedding, ignored how you didn’t seem invested at all, but were pretending all the same. 

He’d heard the man’s proposal, and if he were being truthful, it sickened him. It had been everything you’d never wanted, a public proposal, a huge and expensive ring, and strangers falling over themselves to congratulate the happy couple. 

He still remembered when you’d talked about marriage, back when the two of you were still young. How you’d declared that you didn’t want anyone to witness the proposal, that you wanted it to be between you and your future husband. How you didn’t want an expensive, store bought ring, but one that meant something. You’d said you wanted to be able to spend time alone with your fiancé after he’d proposed, because you’d said that was going to be the most romantic moment of your life, and you wanted time alone to savor that. And you’d not gotten any of what you’d dreamed about. 

Not to mention what that man had actually said to you when he’d asked for your hand. Frankie could hardly believe his ears when he’d heard the words leave that man’s mouth. More dear to him than all of his possessions, his wealth, and his company? First of all, who the fuck even spoke that way? And second, was that all Chris or Chad–or whatever the fuck his name was–thought of you? As another object? Another possession? 

He’d wanted to punch the self-absorbed bastard in the face, but he didn’t have that right, not anymore. Not after he’d fucked everything up.

Frankie sat in his truck resting his head on his forearms as they lay on his steering wheel. He’d thought it had been painful thinking he’d never see you again, but he’d been wrong. Seeing you again, touching you again, had been the most painful thing he’d ever endured, more than any bullet wound or cocaine withdrawal. Seeing you with someone else, touching you and knowing you weren’t his, and he wasn’t yours, it broke his fucking heart. 

He sat in silence in his truck for a long time before he mustered up the strength to turn on the engine, and pull out of the parking lot. 

The drive to his hotel wasn’t long, but he didn’t remember any of it. Almost like he’d blinked, and he was there. Trudging up the stairs to his room, he stumbled under the oppressive weight of sorrowsadnesspain that lay across his shoulders like chains, trying to pull him under the waves of emotion crashing over his head.

It took him longer than it should have to turn the key in the lock, and he barely got the door closed and locked behind him before he was collapsing on the bed, curling in on himself. He hated the feeling of pain, of sorrow, of heartbreak that was practically consuming him, but some sick, twisted part of his mind hissed that he deserved it, all he’d ever do was disappoint people, why did he keep trying? He was useless, he was hopeless, he was an addict, he was a failure, a waste of space, he–

Frankie curled his fingers into his hair, tugging harshly at the strands as he struggled to shove the malicious voice back into it’s box in his mind. It wasn’t easy, the voice didn’t want to go away without a fight, and by the time it was finally quiet, Frankie found he had a pounding headache. 

He didn’t even think as he reached across the bed to his suitcase, pulling out the small bag of white powder that haunted him. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew how stupid it was, but his hands were already going through the practiced motions, and he didn’t have the strength or the will to stop them. 

As the burning sensation filled his nostrils, quickly followed by the numbness he ached for, Frankie finally let the tears he’d been holding back roll down his cheeks. 

***

“And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want, just not home.

And you can aim for my heart,

go for blood

But you would still miss me in your bones.”

TL;DR: Frankie struggles with seeing you with another man, knowing that you’re lying about being happy. He has a lot of self-reflection and self hatred about losing you. He has a depressive episode and uses cocaine at the end of the chapter.

[aion-rsa]

Shameless Season 11 Episode 11 Review: The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Shameless episode contains spoilers.

Shameless Season 11 Episode 11

“We’re adults now. This is what adults do. They move on.”

Shameless tows the line over whether Frank Gallagher is actually wise or just so high on his own supply that he’s convinced himself that he’s a street smart genius. The truth of the matter is irrelevant because either way Frank still makes bold declarations as if they were the word of God. He’s a non-stop repository for nonsensical advice and Frank’s teachings have been present through every season, even if they’re lessons that the Gallaghers actively ignore. 

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” pushes a narrative where characters need to either move forward or slow down, but a greater source of wisdom that influences the episode’s structure is the laundry list of life lessons that Frank has spewed out for eleven seasons. This direction turns Shameless’ penultimate episode into one of the most emotional and impressive entries of the season and provides the right direction for next week’s big finale.

Previous seasons of Shameless frequently treat Frank like an unrepentant derelict and there are times where he even operates as an outright villain. This final season has worked hard to humanize Frank as he transitions into this feeble stage of his life and it’s been a very powerful experience. Now, an episode away from the very end of Shameless, Frank is at his absolute worst and at this point there’s no hatred towards this passive father figure, only pity. William H. Macy looks utterly lost in these scenes and he’s really put everything into this final season. Macy actually deserves some award consideration when the time comes and this is the episode that he should submit. 

Frank is usually the one that drives the chaos forward in Shameless, right down to the previous episode, but “The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” turns into a somber celebration of all things Frank Gallagher as Liam graciously tries to remind Frank of the indomitable fighting spirit that’s defined him for his entire life. Liam throws Frank’s own advice back at him when he tells him, “Either you run the day, or the day runs you.” 

This episode feeds off of the energy between Liam and Frank from the previous installment and it’s appropriate that Liam is the one that’s with Frank during his weakest moments. Frank can rest easy knowing that Liam is living proof that goodness has come out of all of his selfish behavior over the years and somehow this child has been able to synthesize his ramblings into practical advice.

It’s a lot of fun to return to this farcical side of Frank’s character, but the comedic sensibilities of Shameless continue to be all over the place this season. There are some legitimately funny and subtle jokes throughout this episode, but there are also ridiculous setpieces where good samaritans get steamrolled by a truck. Shameless has always had a dark sense of humor, but it needs to have a little more confidence in itself and not resort to such broad gags that come close to breaking the reality of the show’s universe. Mickey’s consternation over housing complex guidelines feels more natural, and is funnier, than fatality punchlines or extended TikTok dance routines. 

Mickey and Ian’s time in Chicago’s West Side becomes surprisingly fulfilling and it achieves the right balance between comedy and drama. This new lifestyle puts Mickey and Ian at odds with each other and it becomes a strong dissection of their characters as well as how far their relationship has come. Their material is full of great character moments, like how Mickey needs to listen to car crashes and general destruction as a white noise machine to help him peacefully fall asleep. Mickey’s discomfort over his new life becomes so severe that he has to sneak back into the Gallagher house and get up close and personal with the crime and chaos that echoes through the South Side. 

I don’t expect Mickey to completely regress and be unable to forge ahead with Ian in this marginally swankier life, but this feels like a reasonable temporary hurdle for him to clear before the series concludes. Despite how this West Side lifestyle is a productive change for Ian and Mickey, it’s still something that Ian made official while Mickey wasn’t completely on board. It’s an understandable schism between them and the episode is smart to tease them falling back onto old habits, only to do the opposite. 

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” teases infidelity and disappointing decisions, but their selfless resolution to the problem is one of the sweetest moments from the entire season and basically what I’ve wanted from these two all season. Every character in Shameless has been through a tremendous amount this season and it’s impressive how Mickey and Ian’s conflict resolution methods have evolved from the volatile place that they were at when the season began.

Mickey and Ian display genuine maturity with their relationship issues and it’s a level of synergy and consistency that Debbie craves. Everyone is considerably worn down from the events of the season and is close to their breaking points, which in Debbie’s case finally causes her to take a long look at why her romantic endeavors have all been so toxic. This introspective attitude is good for Debbie, yet the victim mentality that she adopts and her anger that Frank has “ruined love for her” is a little too simplistic. Debbie has been in healthy relationships that failed because of preventable problems that she instigated. 

Debbie polls the people in her life on how to build connections and stay together when her family is on the cusp of separation, which does carry a level of poignancy, even if not all of the insight that she acquires from the experience is healthy. It’s a storyline that works as well as it does here specifically because it’s juxtaposed around so many changes and goodbyes. Debbie does productive work to better herself, but the direction of her endgame is more than a little confusing. 

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” parses out several scenes where an aggressive woman named Heidi causes a wave of mayhem promptly after she’s released from prison. Initially it looks like Heidi’s roaring rampage will intersect with Carl’s new police gig and provide him an opportunity to take down this menace and become a hero again on the force. That’s not at all what happens and it’s madness that Heidi is meant to instead provide closure for Debbie! 

Heidi literally threatens to shoot Franny with a revolver and minutes later Debbie is ready to spend the rest of her life with this loose cannon. The most frustrating thing is that next week’s series finale will likely hint at a happy future for this fresh couple, but based on everything that’s known about both of these characters it seems like it’s destined to go up in flames, perhaps even more quickly than previous relationships.

Carl doesn’t get to take out an angst-ridden recidivist, but he does still find some peace and gain a better understanding of his calling after a season of being frustrated. Carl’s impassioned speech is long overdue, eloquent as hell, and completely right. It also would have been justified several episodes back, but at this point Carl’s pent up frustration over what he’s witnessed at the police department makes sense. 

It’s encouraging that Carl embraces his demotion and uses it to find clarity. It’s still hard to say if this police direction for Carl’s character was worth it in the end, but thankfully it doesn’t suck out his soul or leave him bitter at the world. Joshua Malina is such a hyperbolized schlub through all of this, which is entertaining and also reflects the greater level of incompetence that surrounds Carl while he attempts to do honest police work. 

Carl and many of the Gallaghers are caught in flux when it comes to their new lives, but Kevin and Vee already have Chicago in their rearview mirrors. Vee and Kevin represent a force of confidence and their resolve towards Louisville inadvertently helps many of the Gallaghers work through their own sources of stress. It even feels natural that the person that Kevin and Vee sell their house off to turns into a break for Lip to diminish the colony of ulcers that have been brewing in him all season. This blessed development also doesn’t feel contrived because it’s an opportunity that Lip ultimately botches. 

Liam reminds Frank that he’ll have both good and bad days, but this cautionary advice becomes even more applicable to Lip’s story. It’s heartbreaking how everything sours for Lip and there’s such palpable tension through it all. This is supposed to be Lip’s easy way out to a happy ending and it instead quickly becomes a nightmare. It’s very clear that something is about to go wrong and just how poorly Lip has handled this situation. It’s a slow motion car crash of drama to the worst degree.

This sword is left to hang over Lip as the episode concludes and he almost seems to accept the cloud of hopelessness that’s formed over him. It’s a sad, hollow version of Lip that doesn’t feel dissimilar to Frank Gallagher and his decision to go out on his own terms. Frank’s concluding moments are devastating, but they’re also the only time in the episode where he feels empowered. It’s a turn that fundamentally changes the tone for Shameless’ series finale and has the potential to bring out the best in each character. There’s now a small sliver of hope that Fiona might show up, whereas I was previously convinced that this was impossible.

“The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits” is the strongest episode of Shameless’ final season, it contains some of William H. Macy’s absolute best work from the show, and it instills some optimistic confidence for what the series has planned for its final installment. The Gallaghers’ lives are far from over and there’s still a lot that these characters need to figure out before the series’ conclusion. The tragedy that strikes in the episodes’s final moments is a strong catalyst that should bring everyone together and deliver a series finale that’s just as much about togetherness and supporting each other as it is about new beginnings and closing the door on the past. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

It will also absolutely end on its own terms, just like Francis Gallagher.

The post Shameless Season 11 Episode 11 Review: The Fickle Lady Is Calling It Quits appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3dxu4yJ

[nicolemagolan]

Two Cities, One Galaxy: How Star Wars Connects And Divides Us

Early in 2019, I wrote a personal essay about Star Wars. It centered around SWCC (Star Wars Celebration Chicago) and my experience of watching the live stream in my living room at 4am, when the episode IX teaser and title was unveiled. 

It’s about fandom, the internet, and isolation. It’s about how Star Wars impacted my life, and about my relationship with my brother.

It also, eerily, foreshadows the disappointment I would eventually feel about The Rise of Skywalker. So here it is, under the cut. Please give it a read, and let me know your thoughts!

***

My phone blinks 3:30am, April 13th, 2019. In Chicago it’s 10:30am, yesterday. I should be asleep. I should stay present in Auckland, where no one else is awake except the moths gathering on the kitchen window.

My brother is slumped beside me, eyes closed, lost somewhere between sleep and boredom. We sit in the darkness of our living room, outlined by the grey glaze of the television. I’m wearing pyjama pants and yesterday’s T-shirt. An empty bag of chips is screwed up on the carpet, a half-drunk can of Lift Plus sits on the mantelpiece.

I stare at the TV. Waiting. My knee bobs up and down. I glance at my phone, and refresh Twitter. The tweets are coming in a blur: people yelling in caps lock, streaming without punctuation, some of it indecipherable, some of it from me. It’s happening kids / MERRY IXMAS, EVERYONE / I'm trying to remember it's called Star Wars Celebration not Star Wars oh my god I'm so stressed-ebration / I AM READY TO BE EPISODE IXed. The world around me is asleep, but the world under my thumb has never been more alive.

I take another sip of Lift Plus and feel its energy tingle through my bloodstream. Or maybe that sensation is the force.

When I was in class earlier in the day, wearing a Star Wars tee, writing in a Star Wars notebook and drinking from a Star Wars bottle, I was already stewing in anticipation. My mind was in another galaxy; speculation ran through me like shooting stars. My dedication to the Star Wars universe is fuelled not by the incessant marketing or the cheap merchandise, but by the passion I have for stories, space wizards, and the cute-yet-creepy alien bird race known as the Porgs.

 Star Wars Celebration Chicago is set to begin livestreaming on YouTube in just a few minutes. A countdown slowly ticks on screen. This will be the first big panel of Celebration, and the one I am most eager to see. The panel is for Star Wars: Episode IX, consisting of a Q&A session with cast members. Our first real, palpable look at the film, at beloved returning characters, and the new additions, to hear from returning Director J.J. Abrams what his vision for IX is.

But the real reason anyone is staying up all night to watch the livestream isn’t to see Abrams dodge spoilery questions. It’s to be amongst the first to witness the Episode IX trailer. The very first teaser trailer. Imagine a choir singing angelic sounds behind that one word and maybe you’ll begin to understand. What I really want is to catch a glimpse of the upcoming film, to learn the title—oh my goodness, the title—along with thousands of far, far away fans; some watching live in the dead of night or crack of dawn. The lucky few are crowded into the panel room itself. I swipe through pixelated and blurry selfies posted with #SWCC. It’s a big auditorium, packed with media, families, and cosplayers, and many are swinging lightsabers above the crowd’s heads. Purple, blue, green, and red beams of light. The stage itself is lit up with a bright blue backdrop.

 When I told my parents I was going to camp out in the living room to watch the livestream of Star Wars Celebration, they rolled their eyes. When I asked my brother if he wanted to join me, he cried, ‘Whyyy,’ before revealing his true colours when he showed up on the couch at 2am.

He was all too keen to eat my snacks, but now as time crawls forward, he seems to have come to the conclusion that it is ridiculous to stay up for something you can watch on your phone, from your bed, when you wake up. I have come to the conclusion that he is lying to himself. On the path to the dark side, perhaps.

He’s always joined me on my silly adventures, making fun of me along the way. But the fact that he’s willing to be there is enough, as he is now. Star Wars has been a part of his life as much as mine; we grew up roaring Chewbacca impressions and fighting with cardboard lightsabers; He’d be Darth Maul and I’d be Obi-Wan (so I got to chop him in half every time). Kids would tell me I was a weirdo for liking Star Wars, for playing with Barbies and Darth Vader figurines, blurring the lines between allocated girls’ or boys’ toys. But my brother and I knew: Star Wars is a fun space adventure for whoever wants to enjoy it.

We got older and the movies lost a touch of their magic: the internet revealed the intense hatred shovelled at the prequel trilogy. Little-me had loved the ridiculous Jar Jar Binks, but the middle-aged fans who grew up with the original trilogy saw him as an offence to their childhood obsession. (JUSTICE FOR JAR JAR is the hill I will die on.)

Then Disney bought Lucasfilm and ushered in a new era. I have a series of selfies from midnight premieres—me grinning from ear to ear, my brother with eyes closed and discontented frown (his go-to photo pose)—in the blurry light of the Imax screen on Queen Street. But one glance at his smiling face during the film and you know he loves this galaxy as much as the next fan.

Sometimes that’s the problem: our love for this story is so great and so ingrained, that it can bubble over into endless online debates. Debates become heated, become personal, become hateful. In this era of social media, everyone has a voice, but the ones who spit poison are the loudest. We struggle to find common ground sometimes. But it’s always there, beneath out feet and on our TV screens. We love Star Wars. We love to watch it, re-enact it, dissect it, wear it, read it, and write about it. Whether the common ground we stand on looks like the sands of Tatooine or the lake country of Naboo, it’s all the same galaxy. Even though the galaxy-shattering film The Last Jedi threatened to destroy us, we can find a way to stand together. Because when the fans unite, at movie premieres, or conventions, the fandom can become something worth celebrating.

Like today, right now, 3:59am in my living room.

I look up from my phone. The countdown reaches zero. I hold my breath. A soft echo of music trickles through the speakers, and John Williams’ familiar score wraps around me like a blanket. Goose bumps pop up on my skin.

The Star Wars logo vanishes and the screen cuts to black. I snap up and nudge my sleeping brother’s arm with my toe. He jolts awake, looks at the black screen and scowls.

‘Nothing’s hap—’

He’s cut off by a roaring applause as the blue-lit panel stage lights up the screen. The room around me fades. I’m in Auckland with my brain fuzzy, and I’m transported to Chicago with heart thumping.

My brother jumps up and stands in front of the screen. ‘I’m going to the bathroom.’

I babble, ‘butthepanelisabouttostart,’ craning my neck around his legs.

‘Oh well,’ he says. He walks off.

Stephen Colbert is pacing around the stage, babbling on about Dagobah and S-foils, trying to work the crowd up—unnecessary, since we are all waiting for the cast and crew.

I’m leaning forward, straining my eyes, and wondering if anyone actually finds his ‘jokes’ funny. Twitter tells me, yes, they do. The excitement level is high, making everything fresh and exciting, even if it’s a Star Wars pun heard years ago. I almost feel like I could twist my neck and hear people whispering behind me, instead of tweeting alongside me.

 The closest thing to this feeling in my own city is Armageddon Expo, the annual convention at the ASB Showgrounds in Greenlane. Nerds I’ve never met become my best friends. We jam the halls like squashed-up skittles. I don’t know their names but I know who they are. When I’m dressed in Rey’s dusty scavenger outfit, with staff in hand and hair bunched in three bobbles, young girls point and giggle. I wave at them, their eyes wide with wonder, and my heart is full.

The internet fandom space is a mix of tweet-before-thinking garbage and fun bite-sized meta. The real-world fandom spaces, such as Armageddon, are a big geeky party; no one hiding behind an anonymous wall, and no one left out.

This livestream is somewhere in between. I am connected online from where I sit in Auckland. Reading tweets and writing tweets and liking gifs. Yet I am in Chicago, oblivious to the sleeping city around me.

Stephen Colbert brings out Director J.J. Abrams and head of Lucasfilm Kathleen Kennedy, and the content we’re all waiting for finally begins. I take in every detail, every non-answer. I enjoy it. I loathe it. Stephen Colbert asks unanswerable questions, like the fate of Daisy Ridley’s character, or how the relationships develop. No word is uttered more than ‘spoilers’.

The cast members are introduced onto the stage; first is Anthony Daniels who plays C-3PO—one of the remaining few original cast members from 1977. He waves hello to the crowd before looking for the cameras. In his charming British accent, he says, ‘On tweets today people were, all over the world, saying “wish I could be here”. And I know we’re on camera, so I don’t know where the camera is, but whoever is in Australia or…’ He pauses for a flicker of a second, ‘…all the other countries around the planet; I wanna give you a big wave, and you are here in spirit. Okay?’

I grin a little wider. Of course he would mention our neighbour, Australia. So close, and yet so far.

 In New Zealand, despite the growing connections through social media, I feel isolated. Even in the vast Auckland city, where I easily get lost in the busy roads and busy people. New Zealand is separate. And that’s part of what makes it special.

But the isolation is also part of what makes being part the Star Wars fandom special.

It’s a larger world. Out there in space; out there in the world wide web. Legendary or anonymous, you can be a part of something. You can tell your story; you can make one up. After movie premieres, there is a sense of privilege and power in that none of my fellow fans in America have yet seen the movie. The Last Jedi came here a few days early, and I knew all the things before anyone else. We were isolated again. And it felt so good.

Did I go and post spoilers? No, because I’m not an asshole (you know who you are). But I told people they’re gonna love it. I told them the film is exciting and unexpected and dabbles deliciously in subtext in a way that’s fresh for Star Wars. I sign off with eagerness for the upcoming dissection and discussion of the film.

 The next day I’m shocked to learn that many many many people felt it was a ‘betrayal’ of Star Wars. A disaster of a movie. A cluttered mess of a story, an anti-climactic sequel that instead of building on what came before, tore the past to shreds. My brother is one of them.

And the fandom split in two.

But not today. Not tonight. I refuse, and so does everyone on my Twitter feed, because we’re tired of defending Rey, who is not a Mary Sue; and Vice Admiral Holdo, whose purple hair does not make her a lesser fighter; and Rose Tico, who fell victim to dude-bros saying she’s the worst character ever, she ruined their childhood, and Asians don’t belong in Star Wars; until eventually the actress, Kelly Marie Tran, deleted all her social media.

When Kelly walks onto the panel stage, she gets a standing ovation. There are tears in her eyes, and there are tears in mine.

 They introduce the new cast members, and display behind the scenes photos, and babble on about the brilliant practical effects. There’s a touching tribute to Carrie Fisher, an awkward bit about Adam Driver’s chest, and the introduction of new droid D-O. When the duck-inspired droid rolls onto the stage, you can hear cash registers ring.

My brother comes back in the room as the panel is winding up. He flops into the chair and sighs. ‘So, did I miss anything?’

‘You missed everything.’

‘So I didn’t miss anything then,’ he smirks.

Stephen Colbert asks J.J. Abrams if there’s anything he wants to leave with the fans. I lean forward. ‘This is it,’ I screech.

This is it. It boils down to this simple, repeated moment in time: the day, or night, or very-early-morning that a Star Wars trailer is about to debut. I am alone, and yet so very not alone, united in a nerdy passion that doesn’t call for such depth of devotion. But here we all are. Here I am. And here’s Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (omg).

 I switch off the TV. The darkness eats my eyeballs.

‘How am I supposed to sleep after that!?’ I yell. ‘Palpatine. Freaking Pal-pa-tine! NO! YES! Why?!’

Silence.

My brother is asleep.

I throw a pillow at him. ‘DUDE! Palpatine is back!’

He mumbles, ‘Haha, lame.’ His eyes don’t open.

I slide down the couch until I hit the hard floor. The Rise of Skywalker. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. I sit there in the lonely living room, and let my thoughts trail off into the dark.

[movienotesbyzawmer]

Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

May 4: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

(previous notes: Star Wars: The Last Jedi)

Source: UK 3D Blu-ray

I saw this at pretty much the very first available showing, and haven't watched it since. But since I had the other Disney-era ones in 3D, and I still have the capability to watch 3D movies at home, I decided to complete my Blu-ray collection by ordering the British 3D Blu-ray, like I'd done with The Last Jedi. So now I'm going to see it at home for the first time, in 3D for the first time, and take notes like I've been doing.

My reaction when I saw this on opening night was that it was a lot of fun. I didn't think it was as good as The Last Jedi. Overall it feels like a trilogy where the first priority was to avoid the mistakes of the prequels, and the second priority was to have them be fun movies. Mission accomplished, but the actual story of this trilogy is only marginally satisfying. But I left that opening night screening excited about all the neat things I'd witnessed. And now I shall press play and do some re-witnessing…

Emperor Palpatine, the opening crawl tells us. He wasn't someone we were expecting to be part of the plot of this movie, was it?

First scene after the opening shot is a slow-mo land battle, visually different from Star Wars movies in general. Dude kills 100% of everyone then plucks a mysterious relic from a mysterious relic. He's on a Tomb-raider-y treasure hunt.

It takes him to a Tomb Raider-y lair… and there are creatures in green liquid ahhh!

"…some consider to be… UNNATURAL", that line from Episode III. Very love it. Good reference.

The image of all those Star Destroyers is super super super cool.

And now after a calculated bit of lightness in the Millennium Falcon, the good guys arrive at a super neat looking planet thing. Not even ten minutes in and we've seen three inventive new planet environments.

And now a chase, "lightspeed skipping", and each skip is a cool space place, all different, one of them has a big monster! They are tuned into what's good about Star Wars movies, these Rise of Skywalker makers.

Also, Finn and Poe seem to have settled into their roles as funny supporting-character buddies. The first movie really seemed to be beginning a more dramatic arc for Finn, but it doesn't feel like that's happening any more.

0:15:36 - Rose Tico sighting! Her arc blunted as well. Be nice if she joined them on this mission they're about to leave on.

Really kind of surprising how much footage there is of Carrie Fisher, who died years before this came out.

Okay now we're back with Kylo Ren on this planet that's the equivalent of that orc-factory in Lord of the Rings. What's he doing? Collaborating with some ukky beings. Fixing his helmet. Hm.

Bit of humor in the conference room scene, again calculated.

Back to our heroes and they're on another neat new planet with color clouds & celebratory visuals, pleasant.

0:23:40 - Very cinematic Rey-Kylo cross-galaxy conversation, cool.

Lando saves them from stormtroopers, and is therefore given the honor of the "I've got a bad feeling about this" line.

0:28:00 Speeder chase in the desert, and the stormtrooper speeders launch them up and they fly! Cool!

Hah, there's a gag where Rey fires up her light saber and Poe tries to do that too but his is just a flashlight, cute.

Okay, here's this scene I like where there's a serpent monster in their Tomb Raider cave, and Ray figures out that the monster just needs to be force healed so she does it and it helps them. Sounds corny but I like it.

0:36:00 - we see the Ren gang on a plateau and here a new music theme. I'm not much noticing the new music themes in the Star Wars movies of the 2010s, but there's one.

This scene. The Kylo/Rey meeting in the desert. It was heavily teased in the trailer and it would have been more effective if we hadn't seen so much of it in the trailer. Also there's a who-can-magic-harder duel that ends up killing Chewy, except that we don't have to believe that very very long.

"Let's do that!" about wiping C-3POs memory, John Boyega's exceptional comic timing on display again.

0:45:40 - We're on this new planet now, which is so Poe can find the person that can do a memory wipe of 3-3PO, right? It's fast-paced, this movie.

"We sent out a call for help at the battle of Krait, nobody came" says Poe. Am I forgetting that drama from The Last Jedi? I know he's talking about that final battle from that movie, but I didn't remember a despairing "no one is coming", at least not like it was a huge, shocking letdown.

I like the little Babu creature but we don't get much of it, do we

Poe is all "did she do that to us" when he sees her Force-hypnotize the stormtroopers, haha

0:58:10 - Pretty unique shot, dollying backwards facing Poe & Finn shooting stormtroopers we can't see until they fall in front of the camera

"Your parents were no one… they CHOSE to be" here's where it starts to seem like this movie doesn't like where the last movie was going & made it be different. If this were an improv class the teacher would be like, "remember the principle of 'yes AND…'"

Okay, this bit coming up where General Hux saves them & says he's the spy. It's… funny? And dumb? Maybe? Sort of a tawdry end to this character in the trilogy maybe?

"You.. Are a Palpatine." Dun dun dunnnnnnn. Okay sure I guess. This isn't what I'm into Star Wars movies for; I wouldn't have had it be about this.

They get to the new planet and Rey figures out how to use the knife tool to find where to go, it's so like a Tomb Raider game that I feel like I'm reading a cheat guide on GameSpot

Now Finn is bonding with the girl on the planet who is also a stormtrooper deserter, makes that whole Finn subplot make more sense.

Rey swiped a cool watercraft to go to the wreck of the Death Star and I just want to point out once again that I like the vehicle design in Star Wars movies.

1:13:10 - overhead shot of said vehicle is the first notable example of something that looks good in 3D in this movie. I'm inclined to say you really shouldn't feel like you're missing out if you're seeing this in 2D.

She's in a vision cave on the wrecked Death Star. She fights HER OWN SELF for a second, and bad-Rey rawrs at her in a way that reminds me of when Bilbo does that in the first Lord of the Rings movie. I liked it there and I like it here.

1:18:05 - First bit of my beloved "Han Solo and the Princess" theme, so lovely

Now Rey and Kylo are saber dueling all over this wreck with waves everywhere and it reminds me of the big climactic duel in Episode III where it seems like the duelers are going out of their way to duel in a cool looking place.

Everything gets all dramatic in a way that doesn't really get explained - Leia very deliberately says "Ben", then dies, but it affects Kylo allowing Rey to kill him, but then she un-kills him with Force magic because "I did want to take your hand" and then bounces. And it's not over with this kind of thing, because Kylo has a not-really-real conversation with his played-by-OMG-Harrison-Ford father, and he symbolically hurls his awesome saber away. So where are we now? We're in some drama, that's where. I miss cool vehicles and inventive creature design!

1:27:45 - Modded-up Star Destroyer emerges from lightspeed and it's another cool 3D effect.

And then it blows up the planet where Poe's ex-girlfriend was and it looks cool, but we could have used her to be around more. Wait, does she not-be-dead later or something? Probably.

Okay, very corny sequence happening now, it's the pep talk between Rey and ghost-Luke, it ends with a smirking Luke raising up an X-wing like he couldn't do in Empire Strikes Back, so I guess that plot point is tidied up.

Okay, we got past that drama and now there's a very simple Saint-Crispin's-Day speech riling up the troops so they can go to that mystery planet for the final battle, and interest level has picked up.

1:41:28 - Hey a shot of Rey going through a wall gap is a reference to the earlier cool-in-3D shot of the watercraft & the Death Star wreck.

And here's something that internet assholes picked on - they ride horse-things on the Star Destroyers. Lighten up comrades, maybe this just isn't your kind of space adventure movie.

Rey gets in the mystery-edifice and holy hell it's creepy! There's an audience of thousands of cultists in black stone bleacher seats, chanting in perfect unison! It's downright Kubrick-y!

They really had fun with the lighting in the Palpatine room. Also, there are red stormtroopers on the Star Destroyers and aren't they pretty.

Palpatine is trying to convince Rey that she should embrace hatred and hill him and rule the galaxy in ritual hatred with a chanting congregation of hooded dipshits. Will it work? He does have a very compelling speaking voice. But here comes Kylo! He has had a change of heart or something!

"The life force in your bond," he narrates, and then bad-magics them super hard!  We never could have anticipated that evil force spells could thwart their plans.

1:54:20 - very satisfying shot of a giant fleet of good guys coming to save the day. They hit us with the idea of no one coming to save them, and just like when Han Solo swooped in in the first movie, it feels good that this time someone else did show up. And yes it includes Poe's girlfriend and that charismatic little varmint!

Super cool to see Star Destroyers get blown up.

Also cool when Palpatine super-zaps lots of good guy spaceships. Sound is neat on that also. This intense visual/aural experience is what I was thinking about for a while after first seeing this movie.

Rey beats Palpatine by having that surprise second light saber. Whatever, this is a super cool looking scene with all the bad guys in that chamber getting wasted.

Other cool battle climax imagery happens up in the sky, even though it's kind of hard to see what exactly physically happened to save Finn and those guys on the crashing Star Destroyer.

Kylo… what??? Didn't die when he just disappeared into a crevasse??? Quel surprise! He's super-reformed now and heals Rey up with his tender love for her. They kiss, their carnal desires overtaking them, they are high on the most ethical lust the galaxy has ever known! And he dies and disappears, but is visibly satisfied. I feel okay mocking this because I suspect no one likes it. And then it moves on to really cool aftermath visuals that are crazy fun to watch. They are experiencing the great victory in other planets from the other movies, and to the tune of John Williams themes from movies past.

Maz presents Chewy with a special medal, am I supposed to know what that's about? They're giving it major gravity.

So the movie, the trilogy, and the Skywalker Saga ends with a scene of Rey returning to Tatooine to bury the two important light sabers, but also whip out another one she had, and then tell a townie that she's named Rey SKYWALKER, and the final moment is of her gazing at the two suns with the Binary Sunset theme playing us out. What I like about that is that it sends the message that that moment from the original Star Wars, elevated to greatness largely by John Williams stirring theme, is the pinnacle of cinematic experiences that were brought to us by this series.

I like this movie less than any of the Disney-era movies for sure, and I think after watching it a second time, it lacks some specialness that could have allowed it to hold up better against the best Star Wars movies. But I wouldn't say it's bad, and I certainly wouldn't advise against seeing it.