#first time for everything? this character gets portrayed in so many ways

[ky-landfill]

Have you ever drawn Slade Wilson?

[sweetshire]

So, @silv-paru sent Sherlock Holmes for the character opinion bingo. thanks a bunch for this (and for your patience. my god, i’m answering this a week late. typical me behaviour). you’re a darling :D

Did you know, i used to tell these stories to my friends? they delighted in them AND i got a chance to sort of ramble on and on abt him and watson. it was a win-win, really. ah, those were the days! now i haven’t reblogged much of him this month at all. i miss him. I MISS HIM.

Onto the bingo: well. he’s The quintessence of gender™ to me. and i relate to him so so much. fav character of all time fr. i want to carry him in my pocket at all times & study him. like. do i want to BE him OR am i IN LOVE with him, ykwim? pssh who knows? certainly not me. uh-huh ‘a beast unleashed’ -does this refer to me or him? you choose. oh re: canon, i’m ignoring the part where holmes dies (or y’know, is dead for 3 years). that’s too angsty.

[inbarfink]

One common Undertale misconception that really frustrates me is when Sans is portrayed with a strong innate sense for RESETs and alternative timelines. Like, that he remembers the RESET timelines better than the other characters who only have occasional feelings of deja vu or even that he can sense when a timeline is RESET.

And that’s, like, almost the opposite of the actual text of the game. While pretty much every main character can have slightly-different dialogue in a Not-True-RESET, especially if the Player had previously befriended them, based on the idea that they have lingering memories/feelings from before the RESET - 

Sans has no real dialogue changes based on this conceit. All of his changes are based around noticing Frisk has different reactions based on their memories of the precious timelines. 

Other characters do also make observations like that about Frisk, like Mettaton and Toriel. But Sans is distinctive because this is the only way his comments change between RESETs and there are a lot of them from him.

Because that is what really frustrates me about this misconception. People mention it as one more thing that makes Sans cool - but the actual truth is far more badass. Sans is one of the people in the Underground who remembers RESETs the least. I think memory-resistance to RESETs is probably tied to Determination. Flowey, the second-most Determined person in the Underground after Frisk, can remember everything perfectly.

Everyone else has some vague feelings and deja vus. And Sans, he’s the least motivated person in the Underground - both in the sense he’s lazy and in the sense he’s fucking depressed.

That probably means he has very little Determination. Thus, he doesn’t remember anything that happens between RESETs.

And yet, he is still the character most aware of them. Because he has the technological know-how to read and analyze timelines.

And because he has the observation and analytical skill to notice a RESET from other people’s reactions and behavior. Whatever it’s Papyrus thinking he recognizes someone or Frisk’s behavior implying that they know something they shouldn’t have. Sans main RESET-related skill is just being able to identify these moments and come to the correct conclusion about them. And with that he manages to be the most aware character in the entire Underground.

Like, the one point where it might seem like Sans remembers something from a previous Timeline is the Fake Spare scene during his boss battle. 

But it’s all pretend. Unlike the previous lines from other characters that I mentioned, this dialogue plays even if the Murder Route is the first time the player touched the game. Sans isn’t remembering anything in this scene. But he makes an educated guess that the Immoral Time God probably tried using their powers for good at first, so they were likely ‘friends’ in a previous timeline. And in most cases, his guess is right on the money - tricking many players into thinking this is another case of the game actually reacting to their past actions.

And as always, Sans can only tell if his lil’ trick worked or not based on the expression of the Player Character.

Arguably, Sans even uses his lack of Determination and cross-RESET memory to his advantage in his boss battle. After all, the whole point of this fight isn’t to kill the Player - Sans understands this is impossible. This is a war of attrition, trying to get the Player so frustrated and annoyed with the unfair fight that they just ragequit or RESET the Timeline. And this war of the Player’s patience versus Sans’ stamina and will is infinitely easier for him when he doesn’t actually perceive all the Player’s previous attempts against him.

Like, for the Player this might be the billion time they go up against him, they’re aware of some of his patterns and tricks now but they’re probably also frustrated and angry and exhausted. Meanwhile, from Sans’ POV, this is still the first time this is happening. He knows it’s not from the Player’s behavior and Frisk’s expression - but he doesn’t feel it like the Player does. 

He doesn’t feel the frustration and repetition of the endless stalemate. So he’s always as fresh as a daisy no matter how rugged the Player is getting.

And that’s part of why Sans is so cool in the first place, like, in general. He’s technically the weakest person in the Underground, lacking in every standard evaluation of power in the setting - no ATK, no DEF, no HP, no DETERMINATION. But he’s darn clever enough to overcome these weaknesses and even use them in ways that make them into strengths, enough to be one of the most dangerous and most aware guys in this whole setting.

Sans can’t remember anything, and that makes him awesome.

[writingwithcolor]

Naming International POC Characters: Do Your Research.

This post is part of a double feature for the same ask. First check out Mod Colette's answer to OP's original question at: A Careful Balance: Portraying a Black Character's Relationship with their Hair. Below are notes on character naming from Mod Rina.

~ ~ ~

@writingraccoon said:

My character is black in a dungeons and dragons-like fantasy world. His name is Kazuki Haile (pronounced hay-lee), and his mother is this world's equivalent of Japanese, which is where his first name is from, while his father is this world's equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. He looks much more like his father, and has hair type 4a. [...]

Hold on a sec.

Haile (pronounced hay-lee), [...] [H]is father is this world’s equivalent of Ethiopian, which is where his last name is from. 

OP, where did you get this name? Behindthename.com, perhaps?

Note how it says, “Submitted names are contributed by users of this website. Check marks indicate the level to which a name has been verified.” Do you see any check marks, OP? 

What language is this, by the way? If we only count official languages, Ethiopia has 5: Afar, Amharic, Oromo, Somali, & Tigrinya. If we count everything native to that region? Over 90 languages. And I haven't even mentioned the dormant/extinct ones. Do you know which language this name comes from? Have you determined Kazuki’s father’s ethnic group, religion, and language(s)? Do you know just how ethnically diverse Ethiopia is? 

~ ~ ~

To All Looking for Character Names on the Internet:

Skip the name aggregators and baby name lists. They often do not cite their sources, even if they’re pulling from credible ones, and often copy each other. 

If you still wish to use a name website, find a second source that isn’t a name website. 

Find at least one real life individual, living or dead, who has this given name or surname. Try Wikipedia’s lists of notable individuals under "List of [ethnicity] people." You can even try searching Facebook! Pay attention to when these people were born for chronological accuracy/believability. 

Make sure you know the language the name comes from, and the ethnicity/culture/religion it’s associated with. 

Make sure you understand the naming practices of that culture—how many names, where they come from, name order, and other conventions. 

Make sure you have the correct pronunciation of the name. Don’t always trust Wikipedia or American pronunciation guides on Youtube. Try to find a native speaker or language lesson source, or review the phonology & orthography and parse out the string one phoneme at a time. 

Suggestions for web sources:

Wikipedia! Look for: “List of [language] [masculine/feminine] given names,” “List of most common [language] family names,” “List of most common surnames in [continent],” and "List of [ethnicity] people."  

Census data! Harder to find due to language barriers & what governments make public, but these can really nail period accuracy. This may sound obvious, but look at the year of the character's birth, not the year your story takes place. 

Forums and Reddit. No really. Multicultural couples and expats will often ask around for what to name their children. There’s also r/namenerds, where so many folks have shared names in their language that they now have “International Name Threads.” These are all great first-hand sources for name connotations—what’s trendy vs. old-fashioned, preppy vs. nerdy, or classic vs. overused vs. obscure. 

~ ~ ~

Luckily for OP, I got very curious and did some research. More on Ethiopian & Eritrean naming, plus mixed/intercultural naming and my recommendations for this character, under the cut. It's really interesting, I promise!

Ethiopian and Eritrean Naming Practices

Haile (IPA: /həjlə/ roughly “hy-luh.” Both a & e are /ə/, a central “uh” sound) is a phrase meaning “power of” in Ge’ez, sometimes known as Classical Ethiopic, which is an extinct/dormant Semitic language that is now used as a liturgical language in Ethiopian churches (think of how Latin & Sanskrit are used today). So it's a religious name, and was likely popularized by the regnal name of the last emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie (“Power of the Trinity”). Ironically, for these reasons it is about as nationalistically “Ethiopian” as a name can get.

Haile is one of the most common “surnames” ever in Ethiopia and Eritrea. Why was that in quotes? Because Ethiopians and Eritreans don’t have surnames. Historically, when they needed to distinguish themselves from others with the same given name, they affixed their father’s given name, and then sometimes their grandfather’s. In modern Ethiopia and Eritrea, their given name is followed by a parent’s (usually father’s) name. First-generation diaspora abroad may solidify this name into a legal “surname” which is then consistently passed down to subsequent generations.

Intercultural Marriages and Naming

This means that Kazuki’s parents will have to figure out if there will be a “surname” going forward, and who it applies to. Your easiest and most likely option is that Kazuki’s dad would have chosen to make his second name (Kazuki’s grandpa’s name) the legal “surname.” The mom would have taken this name upon marriage, and Kazuki would inherit it also. Either moving abroad or the circumstances of the intercultural marriage would have motivated this. Thus “Haile” would be grandpa’s name, and Kazuki wouldn’t be taking his “surname” from his dad. This prevents the mom & Kazuki from having different “surnames.” But you will have to understand and explain where the names came from and the decisions dad made to get there. Otherwise, this will ring culturally hollow and indicate a lack of research.

Typically intercultural parents try to

come up with a first name that is pronounceable in both languages,

go with a name that is the dominant language of where they live, or

compromise and pick one parent’s language, depending on the circumstances.

Option 1 and possibly 3 requires figuring out which language is the father’s first language. Unfortunately, because of the aforementioned national ubiquity of Haile, you will have to start from scratch here and figure out his ethnic group, religion (most are Ethiopian Orthodox and some Sunni Muslim), and language(s). 

But then again, writing these characters knowledgeably and respectfully also requires figuring out that information anyway.

~ ~ ~

Names and naming practices are so, so diverse. Do research into the culture and language before picking a name, and never go with only one source.

~ Mod Rina

[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.

[spicyhamsamson]

I am. So fucking tired of Batman being portrayed as a bad parent and a toxic person. And it’s so goddamn widespread. Fuck, it might be as bad as the whole “Superman being a kindhearted Boy Scout is boring” take.

I get it, the man’s not exactly stable, he watched his parents get murdered in front of him and spent years of his life training to fight crime dressed like a giant scary bat, of course he’s not perfect.

But to say that Bruce Wayne isn’t caring, isn’t empathetic, to call him abusive…it just misses the point of who the character is to me.

Why do you think he fights crime? Yes, part of it is because he’s bitter and sad because his parents were cruelly ripped from him as a child, and he’s lashing out against the corruption of his city. It’s arguably the focus of his earlier years. But he learns to become more than that. He learns to bring hope, a chance to be better.

Harleen Quinzel is the Joker’s right hand lady, but she’s also a victim of an abusive relationship and a woman with a surprisingly strong moral compass and a love for animals, and wants to get better. That’s why we see time and time again that he has a noticeable soft spot for her, because he knows that she’s a good person at her core.

Harvey Dent is a man who will decide someone’s fate on a coin toss(and a pretty inaccurate depiction of DID), but he’s also Bruce’s close friend who clearly needs help learning to live with his condition, rather than try to get rid of it, and someone who he still goes out of his way to visit, even after everything, because he recognizes he’s not just a criminal with a weird gimmick, he’s a man who is struggling with a condition that he’s mishandled his whole life.

Victor Fries is a cold, emotionless man who will callously discard allies and blame them for being careless, but he’s also a man who’s either lashing out because he had the love of his life taken from him, or just desperate to make sure she isn’t taken from him, and is willing to do anything just to guarantee her survival. Of course Batman would understand, his whole life was defined by having people he loved taken away from him.

Even the Joker, arguably one of the most morally bankrupt characters in all of fiction, is someone that Batman has offered a chance to. After the guy shoots the daughter of his friend, a girl he cared for like she was his own kid, and paralyzes her from the waist down, he tells the Joker that he doesn’t want to hurt him. He wants to get him help. He looks at this monster who has taken countless lives and says “You don’t have to be alone.”

For fuck’s sake, he sat with Joe Chill in his last moments so that he wouldn’t be alone. Joe Chill, the man who murdered his parents, who took so much from him, the person responsible for all of the misery and suffering he’s gone through. And he sits with the man to comfort him while dies. Do you know how much emotional intelligence and maturity that must take? To comfort someone who arguably ruined your life?

And you’re gonna tell me the man who did that would abuse his kids?

That he’d hold up the young man whose death was his greatest failure, the boy he grieved, and say this?

That he’d look his goddamn son in the eyes and say this to him?

Why the FUCK do you think he took in Dick Grayson in the first place? It wasn’t because he saw the kid and thought “Ah. A potential soldier.”, it was because he saw a boy experiencing the same heartbreaking loss he had so many years ago, and wanted to make sure he didn’t end up as bitter and miserable as he was.

Why do you think he smiled when Tim Drake presented him a broken watch for Father’s Day? Because he was just happy to see the boy alive and safe.

DAMIAN LITERALLY POINTED AT A COW AND SAID “I’m keeping her. She’s Bat-Cow.” AND BRUCE JUST WENT WITH IT. DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO ARGUE WHY BRUCE SHOULD LET HIM KEEP HER. HE SAID “this cow is my pet now” AND BRUCE SAID “aight, bet”.

The thing about Batman is that he wants to make sure nobody else ends up feeling the way he does. That’s not just about stopping a mugger so a boy’s parents aren’t gunned down. It’s about giving his loved ones the support and care that he couldn’t have, because it was taken from him. It’s about comforting someone who just went through a traumatic experience and letting them know that they’re going to be okay. It’s about going to someone locked away in a cell who thinks that they’re a lost cause and a burden to society and telling them that he wants to help them get better. It’s about EMPATHY and COMPASSION.

That’s what makes him a HERO. He’s meant to inspire us, to show us that we can have that same empathy for others around us, that we can turn our suffering into hope for a better future.

I just wish more people at DC would start recognizing that. But I might as well follow that example myself. Maybe through this struggle of having to see this hero mistreat the people around him and act like a grade-A jackass, people will start to recognize that missing compassion, and slowly but surely, it might come back. After all, what is this post, if not trying to bring attention to the matter in the hopes of fixing it?

[whollyjoly]

i just want to take a second for the absolute legend, james earl jones, who passed away today.

the voice of darth vader himself.

you defined my childhood (and, honestly, most of my adult life) in a way that cant be put into the words. the terror and fear and power you put behind vader made him such an incredible villain, but also the pain and the loss and the love for his family you voiced made him feel so real and so human, even behind the mask. it's so amazing how voice actors are able to bring such expression, emotion, and life to a character. ESPECIALLY one that solely exists in a mask! there's no facial expression, no visible emotion that we can see. all we have is some basic movements and a voice - and your voice, sir, was what made vader into one of the most iconic characters in all of film and tv history. how you were able to show such power and anger and certainty and resignation and grief and finally, relief? when all you see is a mask? its just...mind blowing.

and your love for the character was so tangible!! voicing vader in countless projects until 2016!!! almost 40 years of such an incredible legacy!!

my favorite star wars movie of the skywalker saga is return of the jedi. in it are my favorite scenes in all of star wars - luke and vader on endor, and then the throne room scene with luke facing off against darth vader and the emperor.

we see vader as such a force for evil across most of the original trilogy. hell, even in the stuff that came out later that you voiced (revenge of the sith, rebels, rogue one) - vader is fucking terrifying.

but there's such an amazing shift in vader when we see him interact with luke for the first time since the reveal of their relationship. luke is trying to convince vader to turn, to leave with him and disobey the emperor. there is such a....weight, for lack of a better term, that you give vader's responses that stole my breath away from the moment i first heard it. you managed to take this villain, this boogeyman of the star wars universe clad in black armor and machinery, and made him feel so incredibly, beautifully human.

and when i heard vader say the line "it's too late for me, son" to luke's pleading, it changed everything for me. the amount of grief held in those words, the pain that you could feel. in that moment, vader changed from a monster of nightmare into something so tragic. it was amazing. it was heartbreaking. it was beautiful.

and i think that was the moment i think i truly fell in love with star wars. and it was because of you.

(and that's not even to mention some of the other incredible lines that made vader such an incredible character!! i think of how young you made him sound in revenge of the sith - that "where is padme?" fucking haunts me. and yes there are so many classic and amazing vader "NOOOs", but the one that really gets me is the one when he decides to save luke, to find the light again, to choose his destiny. the way you portrayed that conflict and resolve with a simple two-letter word? amazing.)

anyways, just....thank you. thank you for your gift, for your talent, for your legacy. you will, quite literally, never be forgotten.

may the force be with you, james earl jones. always.

[under-lore]

How does Sans feel about Papyrus' death ?

A lot of common Undertale-related debates revolve around the morality of a character.

But among these, the one about Sans' reaction to Papyrus' death somewhat stands out. Both because of how widespread it is, but also because of the way two opposite yet equally inaccurate interpretations of it repeatedly seem to clash against one another.

So let's take a look at how Sans actually behaves in Undertale after his brother is killed :

First, we can observe a number of changes in his behavior, showcasing that he is not unaffected by it.

To start with an obvious one, the fact that nearly all of Sans' other casual appearances during that playthrough will be gone, Sans just... doesn't show up.

No pranks with telescopes, no stacking 29 hotdogs on your head.

While one flavor text with Shyren mentions that he is still 'watching over us' in some form even then due to his promise, he is evidently not as thrilled about this as usual.

But his lack of enthusiasm when it comes to watching over Frisk isn't the only thing that changes.

For instance, there is a present for Papyrus under the tree in Snowdin. However, as soon as Papyrus is killed and Sans vanishes, the present disappears along with him. Implying that Sans has retrieved the gift that his brother will not be able to open anymore.

He also appears to not have gone to Grillby's after our passage in Snowdin this time around. Something that's apparently quite unusual for him as it is part of his routine for that time of day.

And of course, in some iterations of his judgement scene in neutral routes :

...Needless to say that claiming Sans is totally unaffected by the death of his brother is inaccurate. While we do not see much of it, it is fairly solidly implied that Sans does grief his brother at least in his own way. And he does hold it against us to an extent.

However, that isn't all there is to it.

Sans' knowledge of RESETs does play a role in the way he handles the situation. Just not quite in the way it is often portrayed.

First, Sans may be aware of resets, but he does not remember them. This means that for a given Sans, the loss of his brother still feels permanent for that particular timeline iteration's Sans.

Knowing his brother will probably be alive again in another timeline eventually doesn't mean his loss in this one isn't real. Even if it does happen, he will not be there to see it. At least not this version of him.

However, Sans does still have a couple tricks up his sleeve, that maybe, if things work out, could spare of that fate the other Sans'es.

I showed this line earlier on :

However, this line isn't just Sans showing us his feelings about our actions. Instead, it is a part of a much more tricky strategy Sans begins engaging in after Papyrus is killed :

Psychological warfare.

The anomaly has reset this world many times before, and in neutral routes, he is left with the impression that it will likely do so again. This thought had previously been a demotivating one for Sans as he explained in genocide.

This was the case whilst Sans lived a semi-regular life under the constant threat of everything being undone on the snap of a finger.

However, now that what Sans incorrectly believes to be the anomaly has revealed itself and killed his brother, the situation has actually somewhat changed.

A reset, while it would wipe out his memories, would still bring his brother back to a different Sans. Papyrus' death doesn't have to be truly permanent. Because of this, Sans now wants the anomaly to reset. Not to keep doing it forever, but at least just one more time, to make sure that this timeline won't be the one that'll end up sticking around for good.

He also has a secondary motive :

While he is at it, he might also try to get the anomaly to changes its ways. Of course, Sans knows he's not a time traveller, not a god, but just a guy who is probably not capable of forcing a being such as the anomaly to change.

That being said, maybe, just maybe, he could help in giving it a little push to make it decide to want to change on its own.

To incite a RESET to happen, Sans has one main strategy : Making the anomaly regret its actions.

Sans believes that the anomaly keeps on RESETing the world because it is unable to find fulfillment, and that it keeps consuming timelines out of a desire to find happiness one way or another.

Thus, Sans aims to make the anomaly feel like this timeline can't be what they were looking for. Ensuring that, for the anomaly's quest for happiness to continue, they will have no choice but to reset this timeline as well.

That is the reason why Sans asks us this question :

The question was very carefully chosen on his part.

It both serves to confirm the anomaly's identity, but also more importantly, no matter what they answer, it allows him to either point out that the anomaly's actions did not match with their own morals, or forces them into making a selfish confession which he can then use to make them feel like they've done the wrong thing.

In either case, Sans is able to present his brother's death as an event that would only bring the anomaly further unhappiness. And thus, might get the anomaly to reach by itself the conclusion that the only way for it to find happiness now would be to RESET this world once more and avoiding killing Papyrus again in the future. A pretty good outcome for Sans.

This is what he refers to as taking it the 'easy way' to deal with an aggressive anomaly in a few routes. (as opposed to the 'hard way' he mentions halfway through his genocide dialogue).

In the neutral endings in which Papyrus was slain, Sans once again attempts a similar strategy. Although the awareness that a RESET still hasn't taken place even after quite some time passed since the anomaly was last seen in the underground & his last attempt at it is likely quite worrying to him.

This leads him to be a little more blunt than last time when it comes to the ways he tries to make the anomaly feel like this timeline isn't the one. Although his approach method remains broadly the same.

Though these lines are still rather noteworthy :

Given Sans wants the anomaly to go back, they might sound odd to hear at first.

It turns out that the more brutal we have been throughout the run, the less optimistic Sans' approach to dealing with the anomaly becomes during the phone call.

Here, Sans might be trying to play on another bleaker aspect of his psychological profiling of the anomaly : The consideration that they may view the world as a kind of game to explore, in which if they 'can', then they 'have to'.

By saying it is not welcome down here, he is also saying that it won't be able to keep exploring the possibilities of this world unless it makes them all forget everything.

In another of the neutral endings where both Toriel and Papyrus are killed, Sans seems to begin to doubt wether the anomaly can really be redeemed after all.

This all ultimately culminates in the leaderless endings.

In this one, Sans acknowledges that this is likely not our first time hearing him saying those kinds of things over the phone.

And that his 'strategy' seems to have failed to push it towards the right path.

In this route, Sans appears to have reached a similar conclusion as in the genocide one, that his hope of a redeemable anomaly merely looking for happiness may have been just naive/wishful thinking on his part after all.

In sum, Sans' awareness of the RESETs does not prevent him from missing his brother if Papyrus is killed. However, it allows him to weaponise his own grief using the psychological profile he has made of the anomaly in order to attempt to push it to RESET. Although he knows his own memories would be wiped out if he is successful, it would ensure Papyrus' death isn't permanent. Depending on the run, he also still harbors a dwindling hope that the anomaly itself could be steered towards a better path.

He mostly just needs to convince them to RESET one way or another though.

Past that point, it'll be up to the other Sans'es.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

(Small, frivolous rant incoming, apologies)

One thing I wish the Destiny fandom did more of was dabble in the utter horror this universe holds, especially when it comes to portraying the vile atrocities committed by many of the cosmic level characters.

Destiny‘s T rating holds it back so much in my opinion (but it still manages to lay down excellent foundations for horror and more mature themes!!) and I really wish there was more fan works that explored the unimaginable tragedies that occur in lore!!

When you really dwell on the scale of many of the disasters that happen in lore, it really dawns on you just how sinister and monstrous many of the larger villains are. Antagonists like Eramis are much more grounded, certainly not saints though, but some of the antagonists we have encounter are truly odious in their behaviors, even if they are deluded into thinking what they are doing is correct (like the Osmium siblings ravaging whole star systems in pursuit of the sword).

For example, it’s no secret that I LOATHE the Witness like no other. This wicked entity has me fighting bile at the mere thought of it and I truly think the way it delivers cruelty with such a sense of compassion and righteousness to be the most stomach wrenching form of being baneful. I could not think of an entitlement more deplorable than the Witness‘ and it’s existence is a travesty that has caused irreparable harm that spans EONS.

Yet, in my experience, I never see much content that taps into the horrors experienced by those touched by the Witness and its pawns, such as the Noesis and humanity during the collapse. There are INCREDIBLE artistic and written works that tap into the psychological horrors of exos and the unethical hell Clovis was putting people through, but not as many on the more cosmic horrors from what I have seen!!

This may just be a me thing and the personal reasons why I want the Witness put under a hydraulic press speaking, but I often see plenty of depictions of the Witness being uncharacteristically soft and having deeper feelings towards its disciples, but works about its vengeful rage, simple mindedness, violation of the autonomy of others, and predatory grooming are quite barren.

I wish to see just how HEINOUS it is displayed in all its turpitude and how it leaves a festering rot on everything and everyone it touches. I love the Witness because it is so evil in it‘s actions and my heart SINGS any time I see people tap into the trauma it causes, especially for characters like Rhulk or Savathûn!!

There is so much room for exploring just how vast the Destiny universe is when you decenter perpetrators in stories and focus on the incomprehensible number of victims.

Destiny genuinely has a character running around with the title „The Final God of Pain“ haunting people and refusing to permanently die, but there is only so much a T rated game can do and I feel like Destiny enjoyers can go beyond what’s in game in such creative ways!! Just thinking of the fall of Torobatl has me going „Wow, I’m actually so sick to my stomach, I need to honor Caiatl and really capture the pain of such an event!“

The latest lore on the Qugu? My chest HURTS.

Some of the hive experimentations? The hive in general? Hell is not hot enough for what the Witness lead them into.

But you know what they say, be the change you want to see in the world! Create the content you want to enjoy and promote the content you do enjoy!! I wish to dabble into the darker areas of lore, and of course, promote Witness hatred any chance I get!! Hopefully I get more time to write about these things and really value the work the Destiny writers have put into portraying such strong feelings of loss time and time again!!

And also!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read The Garden‘s Witness by Titanmaster_117 !!! ESPECIALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER, I COULD RANT ABOUT THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF PROSE ALL DAY, IT GENUINELY MADE ME CRY!! PROMOTE THE CONTENT YOU ENJOY ALL DAY, EVERYDAY!!

But this is just something I’ve been thinking for some time now. This isn’t condemning anyone in the fandom or saying there is an issue, just a desire I would love to see (and hopefully fulfill if I ever get back into writing for Destiny!) If you guys have any recommendations for Destiny works that are horrific, focus on themes of loss and devastation, or hate on the Witness, feel free to mention them so other people can find them!!

Not enough Witness hate going around for my liking… this looks like a job for me.

[itsmaferart]

Keep your hands off my woman!!

Leaving aside the most important part of the chapter, Yor must kiss her husband for world peace and the Twiyor nation to be happy.

I think it's a good message if we look deeper into how the stereotypical duality of women is portrayed to us, which I think is a message that can encompass anyone in general.

The most conventional romantic movies are usually about the man being - stereotypically - the strongest and the one who must protect the woman, who wins his sensitive heart and makes the hero bring out his sweetest feelings.

Becky being a little girl has in her heart the fantasy of a sweet romantic love just like the one in her novels and movies. But sometimes, people are not so conventional.

Both Anya and Yor, don't feel comfortable being pigeonholed into “girls waiting to be passively rescued”, because within themselves the love for the people around them is a drive to be strong, take action and save others.

I feel that one of Endo's best points, is her way of undertaking a concept of what femininity, or rather, “feminine energy”, represents. Feminine energy is a force that comes from feelings, it is fluctuating and unpredictable, sometimes like a gentle breeze and sometimes like a terrible hurricane.

Most of Endo's female characters are strong, independent women who do not need to be rescued. And they are very willing to put themselves in the face of danger to protect those they love. This is something we have seen, with characters like Yor, Sylvia, Martha, Fiona, and they have been able to save other men or take on subjects much larger and more muscular than them.

Even with girls like Anya who we know very well is a very brave girl and has been in the face of danger despite her age (maybe too much, our poor baby is only 4 to 5 years old, God), and has the strength to send a bully flying (and fall in love in the process) on the first day of school.

So …. if women are strong …. men are weak?

Absolutely not!

Everyone, regardless of gender, is strong. We know perfectly well that Twilight is someone capable of taking care of himself, is someone who is physically trained and has enormous intelligence. Even Yuri has survived so many dangers that we wonder how the hell he didn't die. Damian is a brave guy (when he doesn't see an insect lol).

The point is, even though women and men (or any gender in general) are strong. We all have our weaknesses, our sensitive sides.

You can do things on your own, but you don't have to do everything at once....

Clearly, although Yor is physically strong, she has problems with metal and verbal confrontations. Because her insecurities are so great that when they make her doubt herself and her own value, she tends to lose it and that is when Loid is there for her, not to take care of her because she is weak, but to remind her of her own value (because she doesn't seem to realize it herself) and to make her see that she is worthy of the understanding and love of others. In the same way that Yor reminds him that he too can be a little weak and take refuge in her.

Even if we feel weak and awkward, we can take initiative....

I think it is very important, the idea that Yor or anyone in general can have the “initiative” to seek on their own that “love” that you so desire.

Many times we feel that if we don't fit into the expected canon, or social archetype we are not worthy of love. (Feminine women who feel vulnerable and who depend on the guy to live are the ones who get love in the end). When nothing could be further from the truth….

Being weak and vulnerable is something totally natural and not exclusive to one gender or social role. We are all weak and strong at the core, and we need each other to complement each other and to be able to enjoy much more of our own love and the love we can give and receive from others.

Yor's desire to actively seek love (kissing her husband a lot) is not only a way to develop her bond with Loid, but a way to grow her self-esteem and challenge her insecurities. To stop seeing herself as a child in front of the world, but a woman who can get things because she wants them (and has her husband's consent, of course) (But, come on, we all know Loid needs kisses from Yor).

[slackerlifewhere]

TCF is all about healing

- This is a review about the novel.

There's possible SPOILERS for readers who haven't finished reading the first volume.

___

When I first picked up the novel, I didn't have high expectations. After reading a lot of stories that end up disappointing me because of how the author eventually adds romance or harems into the story because their main character apparently needs a romantic relationship to feel good about themselves, I thought that Trash of the Count's Family will be the same thing further down the line.

But damn, did the author prove me wrong.

In the first few chapters, the novel's entire vibe was almost unnoticeable. Sure, there were some small details like him not being used to extravagant clothes or finding a simple meal delicious, but it wasn't obvious. It made me raise my eyebrow but I simply thought that he's a simple salaryman or something.

The first lines about him not having anyone who would miss him if he's gone in his previous world can be excused as him having no lingering attachments. And honestly, some transmigration/isekai stories do have their main characters having no attachments in their previous world. So it makes sense and it didn't alert me of what could've possibly happened to Cale, former Kim Rok Soo, for him to be so aloof and calm at the forced transmigration.

And then...he thought about poverty and pity when interacting with On and Hong. That was the first sign that he may have left a few lines out of his introduction.

It steadily got worse when he was talking to Choi Han about him being used to the cruelty of people like Venion. And then, at the first meeting with Raon, he appeared as if he understood the hopelessness of a child under an abusive adult's hand.

That's when I finally thought that TCF is a story about healing. And I was pleasantly surprised.

Sure, there's action, drama, and comedy, but TCF is mainly about moving on or healing from past hurts. There are moments when it can be called "cliche" but TCF is unique in the way it portrays Cale and his relationships. There's the found family trope that I love but what I love the most about the story is how these characters who have lost something or were about to lose something if OG Cale didn't make the deal with God of Death to have KRS replace him, is slowly understanding that they're not alone and that they can improve as a person if given the chance.

It's heart-warming and completely unexpected. I didn't read the first chapter expecting this fantasy-themed action novel to be about this.

OG Cale, Choi Han, Raon, On and Hong, Lock, Taylor and Cage, Alberu, the Dark Elves, Mary, and so many characters paved the way for me to completely fall in love with this novel.

If I sound like I'm exaggerating, then I don't care because this novel is just beautiful.

What completely blew my mind is the final reveal of Cale's past as Kim Rok Soo.

Listen, I have a love-hate relationship with KR survival novels involving monsters and dungeons and the freaking apocalypse. I love some of them and I can't stand the others. But I did not expect that Kim Rok Soo was in a world trying to survive from the effects of the apocalypse.

My first reaction was "What the actual fuck" because I 100% did not expect for the story to go that way. And my second thought was "So that's why!" Because it finally explains why he hates "papercuts"! This guy is so good at making big things about himself sound so small that it left me stunned when the big reveal happened!

I wanna slap him and hug him at the same time.

It explains why he's so good at being a commander. It explains why he's used to getting hurt or why he hates the thought of his friends and family dying with him as the survivor (I believe he has a survivor's guilt?). It explains everything.

He may be in a new world but he's still stuck in his past no matter how much he says about not thinking about what-ifs and his past. The time he spends in this new world is him slowly realizing that he's not alone and he doesn't have to be so scared.

And when I finally thought that I'm done being surprised, OG Cale appears and flips everything I knew about the character. They talk about how content they are with their new identities. They smile. They're happy. And that proves why this novel is about healing and not the simple transmigration novel full of action and comedy. Instead of getting angry at Kim Rok Soo, former Cale Henituse, for the deal with God of Death, he's just happy for the man and for himself. I just love how the author doesn't forget about Kim Rok Soo's sacrifices and rewards him with a happy life with his mother.

It's so hard not to finish the novel within weeks because of how good it is. It can be fast in some parts for the action, which makes sense since everything is happening at once. But there are also slow emotional moments that keep reminding me why I love this novel.

So yeah, this is my review about TCF. It's not a perfect novel but it's a good novel about healing and family. And I'm waiting for the second volume to be done so I can finally read the rest.

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

[bokutoasavillain]

Hello! Could you recommend your favorite System fanfictions?

I have put this off for so long bc I have so many that I love and making a list that big seemed terrifying but I love sharing fanfics so here’s my best attempt <3

Bingqiu:

Tale Within A Tale

Rated T, It is so good!! The concept is so clever and it is such a satisfying read<33

it's you I find like a ghost in my mind

Rated M, a great identity reveal with a lot of dreamsharing

Treading Well-Worn Paths

Rated T, post-canon sqq turns into a kid and yqy and lbh look after him. I cannot tell you how I love this. The characterization, the dynamics, the identity reveal are all so perfect. Everything progresses so naturally and it is so good. The ending is a bit bittersweet and honestly it’s so fitting and just read this it’s perfect

We Are Not Wise

Rated T, in an au where cultivators draw their swords from their souls, sj takes in sy (a bit of blackmailing included). Sy and lbh are both disciples and soulmates. The focus is more on the relationship between sy and sj and it’s probably one of my favorite ways their relationship is portrayed. It is heavier on the angst and I was crying. It is so beautiful <33

The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Known

Rated T, such a sweet and lighthearted post-canon truth spell fic <33

side effects may include indefinite photosensitivity

This is a three part series taking place post-canon. It’s about relationship development and also character development bc these two are so so young and have so much time to still grow. It is so sweet and also has some genderqueer bingqiu (as a treat)

Also one of my favorite quotes ever that still makes me cry to this day:

“I think I am mourning something that never existed to begin with,” […]“I think I am the thing that never existed to begin with.” (It’s in the third fic)

lonely little heartbeat

Rated E, lbh reverse transmigrates at 15 (I don’t want to spoil it but it’s great)

colored bright green

Rated T, Binghe also transmigrates to pidw and finds out he’s not the only one! It’s a slow burn and so sweet

Now Entering Incognito Mode!

Rated E, sqq flees cqms while lbh is in the abyss and he meets a mysterious young lady, I don’t want to spoil this it is soooo good!!!

I'll make the world safe and sound for you

Rated M, babytrapping (kinda?) its sweet and beautiful

go with the flow

Rated T, no plot just sweet post-canon husbands

End Racism in the OTW -- Infinite First Dates

Rated M, set during the five years sqq is dead, a lot of dream sharing. It’s really fun and lovely and just perfect <33

Type Casting

Rated E, oh god this one is soooo good!! What if sqqs mushroom body was that of a woman? And what if he didn’t remember his death?? And what if he himself assigned himself the role of the female lead bc well she’s a woman now so she obviously has to marry lbh right? Right???

Also sqqs inner monologue is so perfect and so good!!!!

I love this one so much pleeeeaase read it!!

the adventure of tiny bing

Rated E, tiny bingbing!! They’re friends and husbands and silly your honor

Error 404: Shizun Not Found?

Rated M, such a unique concept done so well

Promise Me Your Heart

Rated T, such a sweet and so underrated fic! I love it so much it fills me with all the mushy sweet feelings and it’s so tender and romantic and just sooo sweet <33

We’ll Meet While Rain is Falling

Rated E, amnesia that gets fixed by you guessed it papapa!! (It’s really sweet and tender)

Size Empress

Rated E, genderqueer sqq has a dream and well it progresses really well

Benign Deviations

Rated M, Bingge and Bingmei switch places and it’s amazing

shallow water weather

Rated T, MERMAID BINGQIU!! It’s so good (also anything my nyoomerr is amazing so read them all)

continued

Rated T, this one is really hard to describe so just go and read it it’s so fun and hilarious

To Boil a Frog

Rated M, the narrator in this one is so good and fun and overall it’s great

a gentler lesson

Rated T, KISSES!! SOO MANY KISSES!!!!

I (immortal, M) think I might be developing feelings for my roommate (27M). Help!!!

Rated M, so stupid so good just what it says in the title

A Transmigrator and a Time Traveler Walk Into the Bamboo House

Rated T, I just really love this one! Definitely so worth reading (I might have read it twice)

open my lungs to let you in

Rated T, also one I’ve reread a few times

Can't we just skip to the end?

Rated E, time travel baby! This and the sequels are so good!!

night of yearning

Rated E, lbh gets selective amnesia, this absolutely destroyed my soul

As to Me, As to You

Rated T, such an amazing concept with so much potential for future shenanigans and overall so satisfying

right from the start, I gave you my heart

Rated T, sqq is under an obedience curse when the jinlan reunion happens what could possibly go wrong?

Cumplane:

slow dance with you

Rated T, Kissies<33

I've got $400 and a really bad idea

Rated T, fake dating hehehe

Cumplane Summary Archive

Rated T, Outsider pov and overall hilarious

huddle for warmth

Rated G, so sweet and funny

Bros before... well everything I guess

Rated T, theyre a family <33

Moshang:

The Pen is Mightier

Rated E, Mbj seducing his husband <33

speak your mind

Rated T, sweet and touch starved

technically our marriage is saved

Rated T, so fun

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Rated T, this is so good! It destroyed me emotionally and just ugh. My notes after reading it: „My chest hurt and oh my god this is perfect and painful and beautiful“

A Child Once

Rated T, post-canon sqh gets deaged and it’s really good

retrograde

Rated T, amnesia and misunderstandings work out

maine nazaron se tujhe chu liya

Rated M, soulmate marks and a bit of mystery (kinda)

If Not You

Rated E, fuck or die and it’s really good. I stayed up reading this until I could not see properly and I was dizzy

Ok this is it! I went through all my bookmarks for this and it took me the entire day. I hope you enjoy and if you ever need anything specific I can probably find it for you<3

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (2/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, kissing, sexual tension, eavesdropping, discomfort associated with the loss of an eye, remorse, doubts, anxiety, unprofessional behavior ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After filming the scene, they rose from the bed as if nothing had happened. The director complimented her acting, saying that she was able to wonderfully portray both the innocence and temptation her character evoked. She smiled at him as he unscrewed the water bottle and took a sip from it, walking towards him.

"They say the beginnings are the hardest." She said softly, looking around, waiting for the director to review again what they had managed to record and decide if anything needed to be repeated.

"Mmm." He hummed, taking another sip of water, feeling uncomfortable now that he was standing in front of her without a script, not knowing what to say.

They stood side by side in awkward silence for a while, looking at their director – he finally said that he liked everything and they would now shoot the scene where the Prince wakes her up in the middle of the night, dragging her out of her chamber after returning from Storm's End.

When he returned to his hotel room he collapsed on his bed, tired but also content. He felt ashamed that he had forgotten the line and at the same time he was grateful that his partner on set had helped him and been supportive, warm and understanding.

He didn't know how he felt about getting aroused during the scene of them kissing – he wondered where the limit of method acting was and whether he had gotten that much into his character or whether it was something else.

He decided he wouldn't think about it, and as long as they played their parts well, nothing else mattered.

The next day there was a big breakfast together in the hotel restaurant. At the table sat the director and his deputies, the writers, producers, actors, stylists and the many other people who contributed to this gigantic production.

She smiled at him from afar and waved at him, sitting at the table in her hair tied up in a braid, on her body only a T-shirt with the Pokemon logo and yellow tracksuit shorts.

He swallowed quietly, putting his hands in his trouser pockets, and sat down next to her, greeting her and everyone else along the way, unsure of how to act. Aegon sitting on the other side of the table extended his hand to him and he shook it.

"– how are you two doing? – you already have some passionate scenes behind you, right? – he's hot, isn't he? –" He asked her partner with amusement, who laughed out loud, trying to turn his question into a joke.

"– everyone here is beautiful and talented – I'm in heaven –" She said softly, deftly avoiding answering. Aegon laughed at her words and stretched in his chair, yawning loudly, losing interest in the subject.

He reached for the cheese toast, watching out of the corner of his eye as her hands placed the pancakes on her plate, which she covered next with pouring chocolate. She lifted her gaze to him and smiled at him warmly as their gazes met – he turned his face away, feeling like a mute, his heart stuck in his throat.

Why was he acting like an idiot in front of her?

It seemed to him that she took his silence as a signal that he simply wanted to eat his breakfast in peace, so she spoke animatedly to the woman to her right, Alys Rivers, who was to play the Witch of Harrenhal.

Aegon was talking to him across the table, mentioning something about their shared scene with him and Helaena. He nodded, sipping his toast with a gulp of coffee, absorbed in his thoughts, for some reason returning to their kiss.

He'd kissed many women in his career before, but this time it was something different.

He thought she was an excellent young actress.

In the following scenes they played he saw her in a gown for the first time. He thought she looked like some immortal elf in it, beautiful and light, a warm, gentle smile directed towards him on her face.

Her gown consisted of two colours – her long, floor-length sleeves were red, and the material hugging her breasts, hips and waist was light blue. Her shoulders were bare; other than that, she wore no other jewellery, her long hair falling softly down her back, accentuating her long neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling a twinge in his gut for some reason, and turned his face away, sitting down with her at the table where, together with Aegon and Helaena, they played out the scene in which the King informed them that they would be marrying for a second time, this time before the Septon.

They spent the rest of the day in the courtyard, filming shots of them meeting years later, and their conversation after they married, when the Princess came out to speak to him.

He felt a pleasant tingling in his lower abdomen at the thought of kissing her again: to his surprise, cupping her chin and placing a tender, soft kiss on her mouth came to him with ease. Her moist, fleshy lips didn't close against his caress, on the contrary, they parted invitingly, her hand tightening on his wrist.

Encouraged, though it wasn't in the script, he took a step forward and deepened the kiss, lazily brushing her soft mouth with his, her eyes closed, a quiet, sweet sigh left her mouth.

When he pulled away, he met her gaze, warm and misty, her cheeks flushed. He stroked her jaw with his thumb and she surprised him by rising on her toes, kissing the tip of his nose.

He felt his heart pound hard at the thought that this was not in the script.

However, he checked it quickly afterwards as he prepared for the next scene and saw that the director had added it as a suggestion.

He was furious with himself for feeling disappointed.

What was he thinking?

He didn't think it would be a problem for him, but he actually felt discomfort when it was time for them to play the scene where the Prince pulls off his eye patch in front of his beloved.

A new prosthetic eye was created especially for him which looked like a sapphire to represent his character well.

He was to wear it that day instead of his usual artificial left eye.

The sapphire eye was cleaned and prepared for him by the doctor who supervised, staying with him in private in the dressing room, that all was well. The very moment he closed his eyelid and opened it he felt that it was not.

Although its surface was smooth, something was wrong about its shape, rubbing his eye socket, once in a while pressing on a nerve under his skin from which shivers ran through him.

"It will take at least a few days to polish and change it."

He thought with a pursed lips that they didn't have that much time.

The shooting schedule was set to the hour.

He figured he would just get into his character's suffering more than he should.

As he walked onto the set he was met by her warm, comforting smile. He closed his eyes, clamping his fingers on the base of his nose, trying to listen in peace to what their director had to say to them.

"It's a scene of their tenderness, their closeness, at last devoid of subconscious brutality. In that one moment they reclaim each other." He said, and they nodded their heads.

In the original, this was accompanied by a sex scene, but the screenwriters decided that affectionate, passionate kissing would suffice here.

The thought that he would be able to do this to her made his heart pound like crazy, but he couldn't enjoy it: he clenched his eyes again and again, feeling discomfort.

Feeling pain.

For some reason, he thought he deserved it for his inability to be professional, for what they were doing was out of his control.

Rhaenys sat down on the desk and he stepped in front of her, between her thighs, her dark blue dress with exposed shoulders and sleeves reaching the ground perfectly accentuated her graceful figure.

She smiled, placing her hands on his shoulders, his fingers involuntarily running over her waist.

"Action!"

He took a step towards her, cupping her face in his hands, trying to focus only on her gentle gaze, only on her warm breath, only on how soft her skin was, instead of the fact that pain was filling his skull.

"Rhaenys." He whispered tenderly, pleadingly – the discomfort he felt made his words resound as if he was in pain – in pain because of the fact that they were separate.

She blinked, surprised and somehow touched, clearly appreciating his acting, which was only a matter of coincidence. She lifted her hand to his eye patch and he grabbed her wrist violently, her breath stuck in her throat.

"No." He said coldly and closed his eyes, feeling the pain as if a bolt of electricity surged through the left side of his face.

"You're my husband. That's enough." She whispered, wanting to soften her words by taking his face in her hands, making him involuntarily moan in pain. She let go of him, terrified.

"Are you okay?" She asked leaning over him and he nodded his head.

"What's going on?" The director asked them. "We're going to have to repeat the whole scene."

Fuck.

"Are you in pain? Please tell me." She whispered pleadingly and he shook his head.

"No. No, I….FUCK!" He hissed, leaning over, clasping his hand over the left side of his face, feeling such excruciating ache that he felt like ripping off his skin and tearing out all the nerves that were there.

"Call a doctor, he is in pain!" She called out, startling him by pulling the eye patch off his face. He heard her sigh in horror and cover her mouth with her hand, his stomach clenched in discomfort at the thought.

That she saw it.

That she felt disgusted.

"My God, his eye is all swollen up, what have you done to him? Can you take it out? Come." She said, taking his hand, and he walked out of the room with her like a small child, bumping into the doctor on the way.

"I warned him" He said.

"I can stay and help. If you don't mind." She said sitting down next to him on the couch in his dressing room.

He wanted to reply for her to leave, but he only groaned, unable to stand it, and as soon as the doctor had disinfected his hand he removed the sapphire prosthesis from his eye socket.

He did not know why he burst out crying.

He hid his face in his hands, feeling humiliated, thinking that the reason he had been taken for the role was because they hoped they wouldn't have to spend money on expensive CGI, but in fact he had wasted their entire day of filming.

He swallowed hard when he felt her arms embrace his head and let her lean over as she hugged him to her breasts, her pleasant scent, her warm hands stroking his jaw and back.

"Leave us alone for a moment." He heard her voice. The man nodded and said he would fetch an ointment that should soothe the abrasions.

"It would be best if you didn't wear your artificial eye today and let your eye socket rest." The man said.

"Get the FUCK out!" He growled, closing his eyes, thinking it was wonderful news, going around the set with an empty eye.

He thought it was the worst day of his life.

He swallowed hard as her forehead pressed against the top of his head, her gentle hands stroking his face, shoulders and back giving him a feeling of comfort and security.

It was so hard for him, and she was by his side.

"I admire you for holding out for so long. They should have checked that the prosthesis fit earlier, not on the day of filming. It's the production's fault and the director knows that. I'm sure he appreciates your commitment and will reorganise the work." She whispered calmly, as if she wanted to comfort him, and indeed, her words made him feel relieved.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Don't apologise."

"Can I lay my head on your lap?" He asked in a trembling voice, wondering if his request was disrespectful.

He just wanted to close his eyes for a moment and relax.

"Yes. Yes, of course, come here." She said, turning so that he could lie down.

He turned his head so that she couldn't see his left eye socket and rested his cheek on her thighs, placing his hand on her knee. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly when he felt one of her hands on his shoulder and the other on his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin.

There was complete silence between them.

"I got really attached to you, you know? I hope we still keep in touch after the shooting." She whispered making him swallow hard, cold sweat trickling down his neck as he felt his manhood react to her words with an aggressive throbbing.

"Yes." He muttered. "Yes, me too."

He spent the evening in the hotel bar, meant for guests only, feeling reasonably safe there, wanting to ease his mind a little, wearing a thin bandage over his left eye that allowed air to pass through.

He resented himself for being unprofessional, for having his real feelings mixed up with what he was supposed to be playing as a Prince character.

For the first time, he doubted whether he should really be an actor.

His grandfather surprised him by walking up to him from behind, patting him on the back.

"Don't worry about the issue with the artificial eye: it was their fault and the director came to me to apologise for the prosthesis not being tested earlier. You both do a wonderful job on set. The chemistry between you two is palpable and it shows on camera." He said, sitting down next to him at the bar table.

He pressed his lips together at his words, wondering if he should confide in him.

"I don't know myself. I'm confused." He confessed, embarrassed. His grandfather looked at him in surprise as soon as he ordered a double whisky for himself.

"Confused? Because of that girl? It's normal. She's kind and pretty. If you're feeling desire, that's good. Turn it into your acting." He said lightly, however, making him feel not relief but discomfort in his stomach. He stared dully into his glass for a moment, feeling the aggressive pounding of his heart.

"… I'm not sure if what's going on inside my head is good." He said in a trembling voice. His grandfather hummed under his breath, taking a sip from the glass the man had placed in front of him.

"As usual, you think too much. Even if… well, something happens between you two, one or two nights, it's nothing terrible. On set it happens all the time. The tension is high and you have to find an outlet for it somewhere." He said.

He got up from his seat and just left, feeling that he had made him sick.

He didn't agree with him, and he didn't think that using her to get off sexually was a normal thing to do.

She was young, younger than him, still filled with enthusiasm and naivety.

He didn't want to be one of those men who would take advantage of that, seduce her and then leave her humiliated as soon as the shooting was over, saying it was just a fun.

He had casual sex with actresses, but never with those he worked with directly. Nothing came of it because their paths quickly diverged and he didn't have the desire or strength for a long-distance relationship.

He didn't care.

He took a shower, brushed his teeth, changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants and went to bed, trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow they were to play a scene in which he exposes her breasts.

Not all love scenes were left in the script, however, this one was one of them, because it was significant moment – their first real intimacy and reunion after years.

They knew there was enormous pressure on them. He could see it in her face the next day – also dressed in a night gown she was looking down at her fingers, stressed, not a trace of her smile and confidence from the auditions.

He approached her, for some reason feeling that he should comfort her, lift her spirits, let her know that they didn't have to rush.

"– do you want to talk about how we're going to do this? –" He asked quietly and she nodded, unable to even look him in the eye.

"– yes –" She mumbled.

"– so –" He began, feeling for some reason that his heart started pounding like crazy, his hands clenched into fists. "– I'd start with kisses first – on the lips, on the neck, on the shoulders – they're rubbing against each other in this scene because they're feeling arousal, so it would be a good idea to try and mimic similar…movements – then I'll slide your nightgown off your shoulders – we can agree that you will guide my hand yourself when you think you're ready for me to touch you there –" He said quickly, forcing himself to be calm and composed, feeling a cold sweat run down his back.

Why was he so terrified?

He saw that she swallowed hard and nodded, looking up at him and lowering her gaze quickly, red with embarrassment.

"– yes – yes, that's a good idea –" She said and looked at him, her gaze warm, comforting.

Kind.

"– how's your eye? –"

He lowered his gaze, looking down at his boots, embarrassed.

"It's better now. Thank you. For everything. I don't want you to be scared today. Tell me if you feel something is wrong. Okay?" He hummed, and she nodded quickly, giving him a grateful smile.

"– thank you – I will –"

He swallowed heavily when the director told them to take their places. He sat down in a chair and she walked over to him, looking at him questioningly. He nodded, extending his hand to her to help her up, and she sat awkwardly on his thighs. He gently placed his hand on her hip, forcing her to slide closer to his chest, just as scripted.

They both swallowed hard as his manhood pulsed between her thighs under the material of his breeches, touching the material of her flesh-coloured panties, but neither of them said anything.

"– we will take it slow – okay? –" He encouraged her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand, bringing her face close to his. She nodded and smiled warmly at him, as if he had said exactly what she needed to hear.

"– okay –" She said.

Their director nodded at them.

"Let's try to get a feel for it first. This scene is about building tension slowly. If you feel discomfort, speak up, we'll try to do something about it. Ready?" He asked, and they nodded their heads like little children.

"Action!"

Apart from the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace to their right, surrounding their faces with warm light, there was complete silence around them.

He waited a moment before he pulled her face closer to him and his lips tentatively brushed hers in a slow, shy, moist kiss. He felt her body involuntarily move closer to him, her arms closing his neck in an tender embrace.

He felt her soft breasts through the material of his tunic, his hands traveled down her waist to her hip which he began to stroke in a soft, lazy, affectionate motion. She sighed softly into his mouth making his half-hard erection hit the space between her thighs again.

They froze in mid-motion and he was already about to apologise to her, telling her to stop, when this time it was she who leaned in. His voice went dead in his throat as her lips pressed against his, her body rubbing uncertainly against what was beneath her.

Fuck.

He thought as his hips tentatively came out to meet her, pressing what was in his breeches between her thighs, making it swell and pulsate, that this was not a good idea.

He knew she could feel it and that turned him on even more.

Her breath had become heavy and accelerated, their kisses messier, stickier, warmer, his fingers involuntarily dug into the skin of her hips hidden beneath the thin material.

"– uncle –" She mewled into his mouth in a way from which his erection became completely hard, his hand clamped down on her neck, forcing her to stay still as he slid his tongue deep into her throat.

She moaned, startled, gripping his shoulders, rolling her hips back and forth as if in a trance, teasing him deliberately, squeezing his length between his lower abdomen and her body again and again, the tip of her slick tongue licking his.

"– it tickles – here –" She mumbled helplessly, pressing her forehead against his, looking down, between her thighs, watching his bulge twitching in his breeches, which, however, only they could see.

He should have said his line, but instead, completely stunned by her behaviour and smell, he grabbed the material of her nightgown and slid it off her shoulders, snuggling his face between her sweet breasts.

She opened her mouth wide, shocked and moaned, hugging his head to her heart, making his cock throb hard. She took his hand in hers and guided it up, to her breast – he gasped, shocked how good it felt, squeezing tentatively her plump softness with his fingers, placing sticky, wet kisses on her sternum, her hands buried in his hair pressed him tighter against her bare, hot skin.

It seemed to him that she was as shocked by this sensation as he was, for she began to moan quietly – her nipple became hard under his thumb as he began to rub and tease it, his free hand clamped down on her buttock, again and again rubbing his painfully swollen erection against her.

He was turned on.

"Cut! What chemistry, I'm at a loss for words!" The director called out, and he let her go immediately.

She jumped back and got off his lap, inhaling heavily as if she was out of breath, putting the material of her nightgown quickly over her shoulders and breasts, the stylist said something to her and she just nodded, looking at him with big eyes.

He crossed his legs quickly and grunted, covering his mouth with his hand, looking towards the fire, pretending to listen to one of the assistants saying that now that they were all in emotion they would try to film their conversation years later.

Although they tried, neither of them could concentrate and they forgot their lines over and over again.

"What's going on with you two? Do you need a break?" The director asked them, and they replied at the same time that they did.

It frightened him to see her leave immediately, the thought that she might nevertheless have felt uncomfortable, that he had done something that crossed the line for her, but she was afraid to tell him.

He got up and followed her, heading for the rooms where they were changing and getting their make-up done, standing in front of the door with her name on it.

He froze when he heard a strange sound that seemed to him to be a moan of pain. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask if she was all right, if he could come inside, but then she made a different sound, a more familiar one that made his erection throb hard in his breeches.

He heard her quiet panting mixed with sweet, innocent mewls of pleasure, from which he himself began to breathe through his mouth, shocked.

He leaned his forehead against the door, wanting to hear it better, with the corner of his eye looking to see if anyone was around, but they were all on the set. He thought he was just a pervert when his hand travelled deep under the material of his trousers, clamping down on his long, swollen cock, twitching painfully with desire in his hand.

He imagined what she looked like now, digging her delicate fingers into her fleshy walls, leaking with moisture, pulsing because of him, because of what he had done to her, because of his kisses and touch.

He drew in a loud breath and pressed his lips together, giving himself a firmer squeeze at the base, imagining that he had grasped her thighs in his hands and spread them in front of his face, sinking his mouth into her wonderful, delicate folds, licking and caressing her little cunt.

He sped up, hearing the quiet sounds in her room become more vulnerable and helpless, and after a moment she moaned a little louder with some kind of relief.

He opened his mouth wide when he felt his warm semen spurt out onto his fingers at the thought that she had just come because of him.

He cursed under his breath as he looked at his hand and headed quickly to the bathroom, afraid that anyone would see him.

As he washed his hands in the sink he looked at his reflection, at his white wig and eye patch, and decided that he was beginning to lose control, that he no longer knew which feelings were his and which were his character's.

He was terrified and had no one to tell about it.

He only saw her at dinner that evening, and although she sat next to him, she didn't look at him. He pressed his lips together at the thought that she was as ashamed as he was, only she had no idea that he knew what she had done and that he had done exactly the same thing himself.

He was crushed by a sense of guilt that he didn't know what to do with.

He decided to finally speak to her, feeling his heart in his throat, playing with his fingers.

"Did I overdo it? Today during our scene." He asked in a trembling voice, trying to sound indifferent and cool. She looked at him surprised, putting her glass of juice down on the table.

"– I – no, I'm sorry I left so suddenly – it's just that all of this – all of this has overwhelmed me –" She muttered, looking down at her hands lying on her lap.

He looked at her in silence, feeling a squeeze in his throat at the thought that he understood her, that perhaps they felt the same way.

"– if you don't mind – I'd like to rehearse scenes with you before we play them – I'd like to talk to you about them – I have too much chaos in my head and no one to share it with –" She said, looking up at him finally, her brow furrowed in fear that he would not take her suggestion well.

He, however, felt some wonderful kind of relief.

"– yes – yes, that's a great idea –"

They spent the next few days acting out scenes, talking to each other for hours in the evenings in the hotel restaurant or her room about how they wanted to portray particular dialogues.

"– then when they're arguing I think to approach it more along the lines that: he just wants forgiveness and she's tired of him always expecting her to forgive him, even though he himself has held a grudge against her for so many years – something like: what should I do now? – divorce you? –" She asked sternly, getting into character for a moment, wanting to show him what she meant.

He hummed at her words and nodded, intrigued.

"– yes – yes, I think it's a good track – he's broken, exposed, afraid of the visions of that witch – he tries to push it away, but because of the way he represses it, everything he's afraid of comes back to him in nightmares –" He said, half lying half sitting on her bed with a copy of the script in his hand, the other gesturing as if he were a lecturer.

She nodded quickly at his words, sitting down next to him on the sheets, excited.

"– yes, exactly – he locks too much inside himself, and everything he fears then manifests itself in his dreams – his thoughts overwhelming him more and more and filled his mind like water that finally bursts his skull –"

"– a drop drills a rock –" He murmured and she snapped her fingers.

"– exactly –" She said, swinging her legs.

Unintentionally, his gaze traveled over her figure – her light-coloured sweatshirt with Jigglypuff from Pokemons seemed very fluffy to him, white tracksuit shorts and pretty white floral socks on her legs.

"– are you still watching this? –" He grinned with amusement. She cocked her head, smiling broadly.

"– what? –"

"– Pokemons –"

She giggled, embarrassed; the sound, innocent and sweet, made him feel a tightening in his throat and a pleasant tingling in his lower abdomen.

"– yes, but only the first few seasons – you know – the classics –" She said, closing her eyes proudly, as if she were speaking some work of Shakespeare.

"– mmm – I watched this when I was a kid –" He confessed, and she shifted towards him, delighted, surprising him completely.

"– I have a laptop – do you want to watch the first episodes together and order a pizza? –"

Though the suggestion seemed absurd to him, he agreed, and it wasn't long before he was watching, lying next to her on her bed, with a big carton of pizza lying on their bellies, as Ash tried to tame Pikachu.

"– God, how long it's been since I've watched this –" He muttered, feeling some kind of melancholy. He heard her melodious, joyful laughter.

"– I know this episode by heart –" She said between one greedy bite of pizza and another, clearly pleased and happy.

For some reason, despite his rather solitary nature, he felt comfortable around her. Her behavior made him feel like he wasn't being judged or watched – he knew he could say at any time that he was going back to his room to rest, and she wouldn't hold it against him.

He caught himself thinking that he really liked her.

What made him involuntarily distance himself from closer acquaintanceships with actresses was that it often seemed to him that they played offstage as well – they stepped into the role of innocent, sweet, dreamy romantics or passionate unapproachable women, but in fact he had no idea if he knew them at all.

With her, however, it was different – her sudden, unexpected reactions, the glint in her eye, her smile and unthinking remarks were real.

For some reason, her character, her presence had a soothing effect on him.

He was ashamed to admit that he liked her a little too much.

He kept repeating to himself that just one more episode and he would go, but another and another flew by. Her warm, soft body was wonderfully close, their arms were pressed against each other, their heads lying side by side on the pillow, as they looked at the laptop lying between their legs.

For some reason he felt like a little child again who was about to spend the night with his mate.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed that her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly, her head tilted to one side in deep sleep.

Something captured him in this sight – the thought that she felt comfortable and good enough with him that she had fallen asleep.

He rose slowly, taking the large pizza box from their thighs, setting it down on the floor and rose, trying to be quiet. She twisted around and hummed something as he covered her with the duvet and turned off the lamp, feeling somehow proud of himself for treating her the way she deserved it.

It was as if he had a friend.

[the-squeege]

I’ve been a huge fan of Glass Scientists for… what’s it been like… 7 years? Something like that.. anyway I’m super happy to see it getting more recognition AND EVEN GETTING PUBLISHED??? I got volume 2 the other day and in reading the after words about Jasper I figured I HAD to draw him and talk about why he is SO important to me and why I’m so thankful he exists the way he does. There’s so much else I could say about this series and how much I adore it and how important it is to me but for here I’m just gonna focus on Jasper and why he is so incredibly important to me.

also please go read the glass scientists if you haven’t already it’s SO GOOD

It’s.. not something I talk a lot about but to anybody who pays attention to me on here, it’s probably pretty obvious that I’m trans. Or maybe not. My best friends didn’t know for like 2 years until I made a joke about taking my t shots lol.

When I first started reading glass scientists I didn’t know I was trans. And ultimately this isn’t really a story of how I found out, to be completely blunt it kinda just happened and I’m like yeah, I’m way more comfortable this way, this is just who I am.

After coming to terms with being trans, I found a lot of comfort in many of the characters in Glass Scientists. Over the years something really resonated with me more and more about Jasper.. I always appreciated how yeah, he’s a guy and he’s also soft! And sweet! And I know how much of a walking talking trans man stereotype I am but it felt so nice to see a male character acting and feeling the way I do, bad posture and all.

A few years later and the pages where Jasper talks about being trans drop and HOOH BOY

Everything in these few pages just felt so real and personal to me. Like I had lived this experience of coming out before, as it’s something I and many other trans folk have had to do over and over again. The way Jasper talks about his journey, the way Rachel sees him and the way that the story just continues on with Jasper just.. being who he is. Especially in a world with almost no transmasc representation in media???? This was MONUMENTAL for me. I didn’t really know it was possible to be so seen and so understood in a piece of media.

The real kicker was Rachel’s line about how Jasper must have been so uncomfortable. As someone who’s been lucky enough to have a lot of support, and a loving partner who has been nothing short of incredibly kind and patient and understanding, that line just. I dunno it makes me tear up a little (a lot) every time I read it. That understanding and acknowledgment in those few little words means the world to me.

I wanted to write this out and be a lil vulnerable here after reading how Sage was worried about their portrayal of Jasper. Idk if they’d ever see this, but I wanted to get it out there that as a trans man myself, Jasper is perfect. I’m so thankful that Jasper exists in the story as he does, and that so much love and care went into portraying him. I get the same feeling reading that scene with Rachel and Jasper as I’ve had being comforted by friends and family. It’s so personal and touching. Thank you for writing Jasper the way he is <3

[signanothername]

hhhhhhh i love your art so much man it's just so rrrrrrrrg words can even describe it 💥💥💥

butt like like genuinely how do you figure out poses and shit that fit who you draw so well likeee

idk me personally i just struggle with that stuff, yk always stuck with the -looking front on with hands in pockets- or the dreaded -peace sign with hand in pocket- fjdjdj

sorry for the yap sesh butttt any advice would be like so cool

also the way you portray killer and nm is like godly just 💥💥💥💥��💥💥

HDHDHHDHD THANK YOU <333333

And oooh that’s a very valid struggle, cause the thing is, I used to struggle a lot with posing characters in a way that actually satisfied me, going for the stiff front look a lot dhdhhdhdh

But the thing is with art, is that it isn’t just lines on a page y’know? At least, I stopped treating my art as such, every time i draw an artwork i want the artwork to tell who sees it something, I treat every artwork as a story in of itself

Ok imma generally give you what I learned from my art journey so far, i’m gonna start with a more general advice and then get to how I choose poses for certain characters, and imma try to explain the best I can but I can be really bad with wording things so bear with me

Art can be difficult cause different art concepts are interconnected with each other, so sometimes you need to think of so many things just to be able to do something as simple as posing a character

Before we start tho, here are 2 tips:

-everything you know about anatomy? Throw it out the window, no i’m not joking I’m being completely serious

The reason many artists suffer with making dynamic poses is cause they think too much about anatomy, they think the anatomy should look correct and perfect, and no, anatomy is the biggest reason the pose you draw is going to be stiff, you need to forget “correct” anatomy if you want your poses to feel alive and dynamic

- practice gesture/figure art, IM ON MY KNEES I BEG YOU, cause it teaches you to let go of perfect anatomy and actually learn how to draw figures in motion (which is extremely important for fluid and dynamic poses!)

———

With that in mind, here are a few things i keep in mind when posing a character:

1- line of action

You hear these three damn words a lot yet no matter how much you research them you can never find a good explanation for what they mean (me after i researched this bullshit so much shbdhdhhs)

But simply put, think of the action line as the spine in a human, the more you bend it outta shape the more dynamic the pose is going to be

And it’s genuinely so important cause it can make a very simple pose such as a character standing doing nothing much more dynamic when you put line of action in mind

Even a very slight bend in the line can make the pose more natural/dynamic, because an action line dictates the movement of a character

So if you want to avoid a stiff pose? Avoid a straight action line (you gotta make that action line Queer af💅✨✨✨✨)

But here’s a mind fuckery, the tricky thing with action lines is that it’s better if you keep them in mind but not consciously think of them if that makes sense

You gotta understand them and implement them and practice them, but when you draw a character posing a certain way, thinking too much of the action line can actually make it difficult to maintain and in turn, makes your art stiff af too

Like you got to internalize this concept and to keep it in your subconscious rather than actually consciously think about it when you draw your artworks

Ok Anó, how the fuck do i do that? Start with practicing them consciously by actually drawing the action line and then the pose in art studies, and then level yourself up by practicing them by drawing characters posing a certain way WITHOUT putting an action line first, i’m sorry to say there’s no way around it, there are no short cuts

Here’s a helpful visual guide/summary of what i mean by the paragraph above cause words suck

(but sooner or later, what you learned gets burned into your muscle memory, and your hand would start doing all the work without you consciously thinking about it, then congrats!! Action lines are now part of your subconscious)

Ok but does that mean straight lines are bad/should never be used?? NO

I can never emphasize how important straight lines can be

One thing that’s beautiful in art is that there’s no such thing as “bad” or “wrong”, art is subjective, and something that’s perceived as “wrong” by one artist, can be right/ something implemented in another artist’s artstyle that makes it unique

In fact, straight action lines can be great to use depending on what you wish people to take/understand from your art (a simple example: a turn around reference sheet for a character tends to use straight lines, cause in a reference sheet you focus on clarity, and drawing with queer lines can cause that clarity to be thrown out the window)

But I especially love to use straight Action lines with Killer, I sometimes make him stiff as a fucking rock and it’s completely intentional on my part, cause i love to use stiff poses to enhance the uncomfortable/unnatural atmosphere Killer gives, or to further emphasize an already uncomfortable situation

So to summarize, if you wish your poses be more natural/dynamic and to avoid stiff poses, use queer Action lines, but straight lines are also great to use depending on what you want people to understand from your art

———

2- perspective (camera angle)

Variety is key!

What is the perspective you want to focus on? I know this seems like it doesn’t have anything to do with posing a character, but it does, (remember, art concepts are interconnected!) cause the perspective you decide to draw from can also influence the pose you decide to draw or vice versa, and help you make the pose more dynamic

Hell sometimes, perspective can do the poses justice even if they’re literally the most boring stiff poses you’ve ever drawn chchchhcch

Like are you going to draw the character from an upper perspective? Lower? Fish-eye? Third person? First person?

Is the perspective tilted? Is it normal?

What is the perspective you want and why did you choose it? What are you trying to tell the people who see your art?

Here are a few tips when it comes to perspective:

-More dynamic perspectives (upper/lower) are good for artworks that have tension in them, or have some sort of stakes going on (fights, horror, uncomfortable situations)

That of course doesn’t mean they can’t be used to simply make your artwork look cool :D

-choosing how many vanishing points there are (one,two or three points perspective) can also make your art tell a different story depending on the situation you’ve chosen them for

-and most importantly, when you draw a pose, foreshortening is going to happen to the body depending on the perspective!!

But my point is, I make sure i draw in variety, sometimes I draw the character from upper, lower, tilted or even a mix of all of them, all to enhance my poses to look more dynamic/natural

Ok Anó, got it, but what if I don’t care to include a crazy perspective and i want to draw in a normal perspective? Then how do i make my poses more dynamic?

That brings me to my next 2 points

———

3- camera shots

Same as perspective, there has to be variety!

Your art doesn’t always have to be full body, try to draw different shots, draw a headshot, draw closeup shots draw half bodies

If you go for different shots then you’ll be forced to think of different poses to fit such shots :D

———

4-bodies are like little toys, break them

One thing you can do to bring more variety to your poses is to have different body parts facing different directions, not all limbs have to face the same direction >:)

Generally the characters don’t have to face front! Try to mix it up and draw from the side or back

———

5-emotional weight and a story to tell

And this is where i’ll bring my point about treating my art as a story back

A really good way to actually put variety in your poses is to treat any sort of artwork/sketch you make as a story you’re trying to tell

Before you draw a character posing a certain way ask yourself, why is this character posing this way? What are/were they doing before that pose? Are they alone or are they reacting to something/someone?

Is there a point to them posing this way? (It’s ok if there’s no actual point to it! But the poses still would need to tell a story regardless)

Cause if you’re posing them reacting to another character (off screen for example), you pose them in a way that makes sense for their emotions of the other character right? (So if the character has negative feelings towards the other one then it makes more sense to draw them in a defensive stance or a fight or flight pose)

If you’re drawing them all alone then what are they doing alone, are they doing something important or is it their off time? If it’s their off time what are they doing for their off time? Do they like to spend it reading a book for example? What are they reading? Is it a horror novel that makes them scared? If yes then how do they deal with fear? Do they throw the book across the room or do they hide under a blanket?

Cause a pose also holds emotional weight, it shows you what emotions the character is exhibiting, it’s not just the expression of the character that tells you about their emotions, it’s their body language, and body language can be translated through poses

Let’s say they’re doing a peace sign pose for example, why are they doing it? Are they taking a picture with someone they love or are they doing it to annoy someone? Hell maybe they’re being forced to do it, and so they do it half heartedly maybe?

Get what I’m trying to say?

———

And now with all of the above in mind, time to get to the most important thing and the main point of this post

How do I choose poses for certain characters?

6- personality

who am I sketching? Cause each character is unique and each character is gonna act a certain way other characters won’t, and depending on the situation, the poses change too

Understand the character and how they act, try to analyze them and take in their quirks and behaviors, and before you draw a pose for them actually ask yourself, would this character EVER do this pose?

Like you say you fall in the peace sign trap right? Now think about a peace sign pose, but with Nightmare… it doesn’t make sense right? Cause the pose is an absolute striking contrast to Nightmare’s personality, like Nightmare would never do a peace sign till the day he dies, hell i’m sure if he’s forced to choose between death and doing a peace sign he’d choose death (it’s a lot more mercifull than the humiliation he’d feel making a peace sign hcchchch)

See what I’m getting at?

For example, I draw Nightmare with his hands behind his back a lot, but you won’t see me do the same with other characters often, not cause other characters would never put their hands behind their backs, but because it’s a quirk in Nightmare’s character, Nightmare TENDS to do that a lot, he acts so formal and royal like, and so i draw him do it a lot

But here’s the thing, if i draw other characters having their hands behind their backs like i do with Nightmare, i do it in a way that makes sense for them! An example is how i draw Nightmare and Dream with their hands behind their backs :D

But I also keep in mind Nightmare’s character, so whenever I pose him a certain way, I ask myself “would Nightmare actually stand/sit/lie down like that?” If the answer is yes, then I continue, if not then i change it to fit Nightmare

To further explain, I tend to think Nightmare is defensive in nature, so you’d see that I also pose him in a way that reflects that, with his hands crossed in front of his chest for example or generally his hands close to his body, sometimes hunched in on himself, I also think Nightmare is egotistical and self centric, but most importantly, he sees himself as an elegant King, and so I draw him crossing his legs or generally have him sit in such a formal manner or a hand on hip kinda pose etc

So when you draw a pose ask yourself if it fits the personality, mindset, and pattern of behavior for said character!

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With all that being said, while it’s amazing to be able to do a variety of poses, I think it’s also important to keep in mind that art is supposed to be fun, take your time trying to learn, don’t overwork or frustrate yourself with learning new things, and it’s completely fine to not do poses that have meaning sometimes (do that peace sign to your heart’s content <333) it took me 10 whole years to get where i am today, and compared to many other artists my own progress is extremely slow, and it used to bother me cause I treated art like there was some sort of deadline above my head and that I should learn things in a timely manner (which is absolute bullshit), my point is, take your time with learning poses, even if it takes you years, the important thing is that you will get there eventually <33333

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Finally, here is one art resource for poses that i think is really good/useful

Keep on creating and hope my endless ramble helps a lil chchchchchch <33333