#going to write a detective novel

[eyeswaitingfortuesdaynight]

another side note for proofreader: i'm going to have to double check if this is canon or not, but i imagine adult kdj looks a lot like his dad. think harry potter: dad's looks and mom's eyes (and in this case, her personality as well). this is canon in my fic anyway

idk if i'll ever get that far in the fic, but if the looks thing is true in canon, i wonder if od didn't recognize his older self at all and just saw someone who looked like his dead, abusive dad but with devil horns, and then that lookalike immediately tried to kill you. honestly that would be nightmare fuel

[herearedragons]

making an outline for the murder mystery au and I'm already getting way into it

[frankierotwinkdeath]

It is so shocking to me that there hasn’t been a big traditionally published novel that was originally johnlock fanfiction. You don’t even have to file off the serial numbers Sherlock Holmes is fully in the public domain!

[the-busy-ghost]

So far, Agatha Christie's writing isn't doing much for me, but I will admit, I was utterly delighted to discover that Poirot actually does usher everyone into a drawing room to dramatically reveal the murderer

[o-moonlightgardens-o]

My entry for SuNoFes 2024, Case of the Drowned Jeweler, is out now! Play for free on Itch.io!

[soutsuji]

I love it when I'm doing research and sources start referencing sources I've already read. Makes me feel like I'm winning some sort of game

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

[morporkian-cryptid]

Welcome to the wonderful world of Arsène Lupin Copyright Shenanigans

Have I ever told y’all about the absolute madness that is the legal issues around the Lupin franchise ? Probably. Can I find the post in question ? No. Am I going to tell you again ? You fucking bet !

The year is 1905, and detective stories are all the rage. Maurice Leblanc, a young writer, is commissioned by the magazine Je Sais Tout to write a short story on the same model as Sherlock Holmes. Maurice Leblanc says « Screw this detective shit », and creates the character of Arsène Lopin, gentleman thief.

No, this is not a typo.

Arsène Lopin, a municipal advisor in Paris, hears about it and contacts Leblanc. « You are not fucking writing a story about a thief who shares my name. » To which Leblanc replied, « Lopin ? No no, you misunderstand, this is Arsène Lupin, completely different person. »

And he gets away with it.

Leblanc writes a bunch more stories about Arsène Lupin, they get popular, and he decides he wants to write a crossover with the famous British detective, Sherlock Holmes. A crossover in which, of course, Lupin will win and Holmes will be humiliated.

Arthur Conan Doyle hears about it, and is not thrilled. He contacts Maurice Leblanc with a message along the lines of « You are not fucking writing a story where my Amazing-Original-Character-Do-Not-Steal gets bested by a thief. » To which Leblanc replies, « Sherlock Holmes? No no, you misunderstand, this is Herlock Sholmes, completely different person. »

And he gets away with it.

The years pass, more Lupin stories are written, they’re translated and exported outside of France, and wouldn’t you know it, Japan takes a strong liking to the « gentleman thief » archetype in general and to Arsène Lupin in particular.

The years is 1967, and mangaka Kazuhiko Kato, best known by his pen name Monkey Punch, is commissioned by the magazine Weekly Manga Action to create a manga for their first issue. He reads 15 of Leblanc’s stories, and creates Lupin the Third, a character who is the grandson of the famous gentleman thief. He does not bother asking the Leblanc Estate for permission, as Japan doesn’t give much of a crap about French copyright laws.

(For the record, Weekly Manga Action was the first manga magazine for an adult audience (outside of erotica), and Lupin III was published in its first issue, effectively making it one if not the very first adult manga in the history of manga.)

The Lupin III manga gets popular, is adapted into an anime, the anime gets popular, it gets translated into other languages and exported to Europe…

And then the Leblanc estate rears its head. «You are not making an anime about our character without paying us fucking royalties, » they say to Monkey Punch. To which Monkey Punch, channeling the spirit of the deceased Maurice Leblanc into his very soul, replies : « Lupin ? No no, you misunderstand, this is Rupan, completely different person. »

And he fucking gets away with it.

(Arsène Lupin became public domain in France in 2012. Before that, Lupin the Third took many different names in European releases, among which Rupan, Wolf, and in France, Edgar de la Cambriole (Edgar of Burglary).)

Additional tomfuckery :

The year is 1982, and science-fiction animated series are getting extremely popular. TMS decides to try and get a slice of the cake, and begins the development of Lupin VIII, a sci-fi spinoff about Lupin III’s descendant. The anime is being produced in France, and the Leblanc Estate once again rears its head. « Sure, you can make that anime, » they say, « but pay us fucking royalties. » TMS, as previously established, does not want to pay the Leblanc Estate diddly squat, and so they scrap half of the project, recycle the other half, and go « Lupin VIII ? No no, you misunderstand, this is Inspector Gadget, completely different person. »

The year is 1930, and famous Japanese writer Tarō Hirai writes The Golden Mask, a novel in which his detective character Kogoro Akechi goes up against none other than Arsène Lupin. Hirai’s pen name was Edgar Allan Poe- wait, wait, no, sorry, it’s Edogawa Ranpo, completely different person.

(Later, Gosho Aoyama names his character, Detective Conan Edogawa, after Arthur Conan Doyle and Edogawa Rampo (and the anime is distributed by TMS).)

(More than fifty years later, the Lupin III anime makes a tribute to Ranpo’s Gold Mask with the double episode The Imperial City Dreams of Thieves.)

The year is 2021, and Capcom is releasing the video game The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles, in which famous detective Sherlock Holmes plays a central role. Unfortunately for them, a few Sherlock Holmes stories are still under copyright, and the Conan Doyle Estate is about as stubborn and greedy as their French cousins. « Pay us fucking royalties, » they say.

In the English release of the game, Sherlock Holmes is renamed to, you guessed it...

...fucking Herlock Sholmes.

[jymwahuwu]

When I was picking up starfish for Neuvillette, I was illuminated by a light outside the Fortress of Meropide and automatically taken back to prison💀💔 So I'm thinking about the story of the reader trying to escape by diving and being caught by Wriothesley🥴

CW: yandere, abuse of power, non-con, escape failed, non-consensual spanking

Just today. You can escape, now or never.

You've bribed one of the guards, using all the credit coupons you earned from working in the cafeteria. He quietly brings you a set of diving equipment from outside and briefly teaches you how to use it. He's on duty today. On this day, this day only, you can take advantage of the laxity and loopholes in the guards to escape. For the past few days, you had been submissive and radiant in front of Wriothesley, warming his cock for hours. He promised to give you a day off. You can walk around the Fortress of Meropide and chat with people, or you can just sleep and read, write, munch delicious breads and desserts. It's up to you.

And you use it to escape from prison.

You were sent to the Fortress of Meropide for some ridiculous crime… or maybe even something you didn't do at all. It only took three days from the accusation to the conviction. The members of gardes somehow searched your home for "evidence of guilt". The testimonies of the witnesses all subtly accused you, as if a strange net fell from the firmament. You tried to argue and analyze the irrationality of these logics, but tears and logic… were all useless. This ordinary trial, devoid of drama, ended quickly. They escort you to an underwater prison, where you are exiled in full view of the public.

"Mmm, raise your head and let me see you."

Your eyes widened, recognizing him, a customer you met when you worked part-time in the teahouse. He helped you deal with a customer who was harassing you. Dressed in work clothes, you introduced him to new refreshments, giggling at his witty remarks. He always comes on the same afternoon, orders tea and dessert, and sits quietly, waiting to talk to you.

Once, he asked you whether the sun was so bright outside the water, and whether the people at the top of the water were the same as you. You were confused by his question at that moment.

A confession changes something. Such a peaceful life continued until one day, he hinted whether he would be lucky enough to go on a date with you, but… you had not thought about establishing any romantic relationship with the guest. Unexpectedly, the customer just nodded, kissed the back of your hand and left.

(Underwater. Inexplicable charges and sentences.) The mind is buzzing, and those clues and emotions are flooding into you. You have some understanding of what's going on-

"…It's you. It's you who is framing me…"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He smiled - with confidence and teasing. "But falsely accusing me will only make your crime worse."

You bit your lip, shaking, tears falling.

Your cell is somehow quite close to Wriothesley's office. He summons you to his office at any time, puts you on his lap, or presses on you at night. You want to resist. Once, you yelled at him in the cafeteria. Wriothesley just held your waist with one hand, took off your underwear, and slapped your exposed and swollen butt. Other prisoners were frightened.

You arrived at the appointed location, and the guard nodded to you. You prepare to put on your diving gear, but your thoughts spread like tree roots - When will Wriothesley realize you're missing? What will he do? Where can you go...Mondstadt? Sumeru is closer, but there are Matras there. They may be working with Fontaine...Wriothesley...He...

However, these are not worth mentioning in the face of freedom. You can't hide your current smile, the joy of freedom dances on the tip of your tongue, urging you to take steps forward. Beautiful sunshine. Market. The sound of people talking. The steam from the machine when brewing tea. Detective novels and newspapers. You will be able to have these again, even if you can't appear openly anymore, but it doesn't matter, anything is better than an underwater prison and a large factory.

Anywhere is better than here…

The moment you were about to dive-

a pair of arms grabbed you.

You started screaming almost immediately, broke into a cold sweat from fear, and struggled like a fish out of water without even looking at who the person behind you was. You just want to dive into the sea, but those arms are unexpectedly strong - just like when he pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips countless times. No room for rejection.

"Hey-hey, calm down, okay? Stop." He takes off your diving equipment. What Wriothesley said was like you were losing your temper, not that he was using a trick to force you to stay with him. You turned around and met his gray pupils, crying. The man still smiled and patted your head, "there there…" But as soon as he finished speaking, you found that the guard you bribed was being subdued and pinned to the ground.

"Take him away. Inform Neuvillette." He said coldly.

The guards received the order, saluted, and then forcibly escorted him away.

"…W-when did you know?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to sniffle and whimper. You just want to ask this, to know how much you've been predicted. Does he laugh inside when he sees you being so well-behaved…? Wriothesley paused for a moment, as if he was considering how to reply, not wanting to hurt your pride. "…Is it important?"

"I want to know."

"I told you, I know everything that's going on here, the difference is whether I want to take action or not." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll use the belt later, by the way."

[lua-magic]

Mercury and your buisness Mind .

This blog is for those specially who wants to get into business or are confused between job and buisness or what kind of business would suit them.

Mercury is our logical mind, we also call it our business mind.

Which ever house Mercury sits in your chart that house related work or buisness you can easily get into.

Mercury in ancendent.

Native is made for business, he/she can get into any business and be successful. Such native has got strong business mind

Mercury in second houses

Mercury is exalted here, it makes you great speaker here, however this house is of family, so native can get into family Buisness or run buisness with family.

This house is alsovforbfood, so if moon is exalted then native can go into food related or kitchen or cloud kitchen business as well.

Mercury in third House.

Native would be great in communication, media, tours and travel and commission related work or business. If Mars is exalted then native can work with his siblings as well.

Mercury here decreases your courage, so native would be unwilling to take initiative, but if Mercury is not afflicted then person could work with his friends and would get support from his friends as well.

Mercury in fourth house.

There are two placement of Mercury which is tricky, one is fourth and second is in ninth house.

Whenever Mercury sits with moon or in cancer, Mercury make native obsessive and disturbs the mental peace of native.

It gives native OCD, especially if moon is afflicted then it causes anxiety, fear and overthinking.

As Mercury is fast moving planet so it makes moon highly disturbed 😧.

Remedy.

Remedy is to actually, decrease the strength of Mercury, ie, Mercury is your friend and social circle, such native should sit in isolation and should have minimum friends, Quality over quantity.

For gains and Money this placement is excellent.

Well, such natives are good in real estate, and with land related work or business.

They can also go for home related buisness like home decoration, or selling home decoration, furniture, luxury furniture, especially if their Venus is also exalted.

Mercury fifth House.

Best placement for Mercury, native is fast learner and life long Lerner and teacher.

Native would be successful due to his own intelligence, and learning.

Native could be author and writer as well.

Native could also opt for teaching and counseling.

Native can also do books related buisness.

Native is great with children and could get into buisness that is for kids, like, children book, teaching, selling toys or even writing children novel.

Mercury in sixth house.

This is the only placement where Mercury is comfortable doing job as it loves to solve day today problems, it is great problem solver here

But, you can go into service related buisness like, food service, taxi services any buisness that provides service to its customers.

Mercury is seventh house.

Relationship wise this is problematic placement, as Mercury is asexual planet and also fast moving planet, so it creates problems in relationship but buisness wise it is an excellent placement.

Native can get into retail buisness, or go for branding, networking, even make themselves as big brand.

Mercury in eitgth House.

Native thinks alot about money and gains, and money wise it is good only when native is involved in eighth house related work like Bank, insurance, CA, occult, auditing, digital marketing , crypto currency such person could also become great detective, they can go into Research and development as well.

Native is great when it comes to dealing with other's money 🤑, they make good salesman as well.

Mercury ninth house

Here, placement is challenging as Mercury damages the Jupiter, Mercury is selfish, while Jupiter is divine and loves to give that is why Jupiter rules twelfth house which house is house of giving.

Jupiter also rules ninth house, which house of Dharma, religion and rules, and Mercury being prince doesn't like to follow rules

So, when you have this placement then it is better you get into business where religion is involved like selling religious books so, you can save your Jupiter and Mercury is also happy.

But, be careful never go against morality in business because you will block all your blessings.

Native can sell, religious ornaments, things or books.

Mercury in tenth house 🏠.

Such people are great sales person and excellent at marketing and PR, these are the person who would sell comb to a bald person.

So, they make great salesman and marketing.

Such native could also work with government,or collaborate with government like government tender and work with them.

Mercury in eleventh house.

Such natives are great with masses, friends and are good in dealing with large number of people.

They should get into work that involves large numbers of people like forming corporative society, NGO, even they make great speaker, counsellor and teachers. People love to follow them, hence, they make great influencers as well

Mercury in twelfth House.

This is not good placement for Mercury and Mercury is uncomfortable here, Piesces is deep ocean and Mercury being prince doesn't like to go in dark, Mercury is also selfish so it doesn't like the idea of unconditional giving and charity which is also twelfth house.

But, twelfth house is also of, foreign land, meditation, spirituality, yoga, charity, and investment.

So, person could either work outside their motherland or get into import and export business.

They can also do business related to meditation, yoga, and spirituality.

They can also go for investment.

Now, Mercury also your speaking skills, If Mercury is afflicted by malefics then person would be extremely rude with thier words and would hurt lot of people.

When Mercury is with Mars native can go for automobiles or even in technical line.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Detective Story

References (Elements; Subgenres; Tips; Some Vocabulary)

Detective story - one whose plot hinges on a crime that the characters investigate and attempt to solve.

Also called “whodunnit” stories or crime stories.

Most detective stories are written from the point of view of a detective.

5 Basic Elements

A Detective

Usually featured as the protagonist.

Spend time thinking about your detective’s personality, their motivations, their background, their strengths, and their weaknesses. You’ll want your detective to be unique among the other detectives out there.

A Crime

Most detective stories revolve around a central crime or string of related crimes.

Since the crime will be the catalyst of your short story or novel, it should be interesting, memorable, and seemingly unsolvable—that way, readers will be so tantalized by the mystery of it that they’ll need to keep reading.

A dead body is a very common crime in detective fiction, but there are plenty of other options—from robberies to disappearances.

Suspects

Many detective stories include an array of suspects that could have committed the crime (either they have weak alibis or have a history of lying).

Your suspects are a vital part of your detective story; they serve as red herrings (or distractions) that will direct readers’ attention away from the true culprit.

Some mystery novels don’t have any suspects—this is a deliberate choice by crime writers that serves to heighten the tension in the story, but if your story doesn’t have any suspects, find creative ways to keep the case from going cold.

An Antagonist

The person whose goals are in direct conflict with the antagonist’s.

Traditionally, the antagonist is the true culprit for the story’s crime (or crimes), but that’s not who your antagonist has to be; the antagonist of your story could be a police officer who wants to solve the crime first or someone who knows the identity of the culprit and is trying to cover it up.

A Setting

The setting is a very important part of any detective story because the action in most detective stories takes place on the streets of its location.

Therefore the stories are inextricably linked to the time and place they are set in and are memorable because of those details.

5 Subgenres

Here are just a few subgenres that fall under detective stories

Police-department procedurals. Focus on police work and often feature homicide investigators and other departments of a local police force.

Cozy mysteries. These have a lighter tone than traditional detective fiction and avoid explicit depictions of the murder. They are often set in a small town and focus on puzzle-solving rather than suspense.

Hardboiled detective stories. These stories are usually dark and explicit, featuring a veteran detective who treats violent crimes matter-of-factly.

Thrillers. Emphasize suspenseful storytelling, often featuring chase scenes or murder sprees that the detective must stop before the time runs out.

Locked-room mysteries. Feature crimes that, at the outset, appear impossible—for instance, a murder taking place in a seemingly locked room with no other way in or out.

5 Tips for Writing a Good Detective Story

Interesting Motivation

The motivation of the culprit is one of the most crucial and prominent parts of detective work—what readers want to know even more than who committed the crime is why they committed it.

Nothing spoils a good detective story more than an uninteresting or unbelievable motivation (for instance, a serial killer who is just “pure evil” and has no discernable reasons for murdering) or an unmotivated confession.

In the same vein, your detective should also have a strong motivation for being in this line of work—it’s not easy, and many people wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

Learn about Detective Work

Readers want to feel immersed in the world of your detective story—whether it’s the world of the law or the seedy underbelly of a small town.

That’s why it’s so important to get the details right when crime writing—so you can keep the reader’s attention with believable plot points.

Do the research to make sure that you know who would be the first to make it to the scene of a crime, how detectives would go about tracking people down or questioning them, and what role forensics would play in your crime scene, so that your readers don’t spend any time wondering if what they’re reading is accurate to real life.

Too Easy

Readers pick up detective fiction because they want to be intrigued by a good mystery—so if your crime is too easy for them to solve, they’ll get bored and likely not finish the story.

Trust in your readers’ ability for logical deduction and don’t give too much away, leaving them guessing and really shocking them.

A Payoff

Try to avoid an outcome where readers will feel let down by the answer.

In the words of S. S. Van Dine, a famous mystery-novel-writing art critic, “A crime in a detective story must never turn out to be an accident or a suicide. To end an odyssey of sleuthing with such an anti-climax is to hoodwink the trusting and kind-hearted reader.”

By that same logic, try to avoid any “deus ex machina”— an impossible-to-solve situation is suddenly resolved with little or no effort from the characters.

Experiment & Innovate

Read lots of detective fiction and then subvert the tropes—

What if your main character is the person who committed the crime, and your bad guy is the detective or official investigator working to solve it?

Or what if your character’s love interest was the victim?

Common Terms in Detective Fiction

Establish a working vocabulary will help improve detective fiction writing

accusation - statement that places blame on a specific person or persons

alias - an alternate name used to conceal identity

alibi - an explanation that removes a person from the scene of a crime when it occurred

angle - specific strategy or way of looking at facts as employed by the detective during an investigation

autopsy - the medical examination of a corpse to determine cause(s) of death

booking - the process whereby a suspect is officially arrested and charged with a crime

case - the investigation of a crime from the time it is reported/ discovered until it is resolved (closed)

charges - specific crime(s) a person is accused of

circumstantial - indicative but not conclusive

clue - anything that sheds light on a particular case

collar - the actual arrest by a police officer

corpus dilecti - the actual body that proves a murder has been committed

crime of passion - a crime committed in a rage of anger, hatred, revenge, etc.

culprit - the “bad guy;” criminal

D.A. - district attorney; works for the government

deduction - conclusion reached through a logical progression of steps

defense - the argument made to show the innocence of the accused person

evidence - material that will prove innocence or guilt

eyewitness - someone who actually observes a crime and/or criminal

felony - major crime (i.e., armed robbery, murder, rape)

foil - the detective’s “right hand man;” he/she is usually quite different in nature. Ex: Holmes/Watson; Nero Wolfe/ Archie Goodwin

frame-up - deliberate trap set to lay blame on an innocent person

habeas corpus - accusor has to produce a body in order to hold a suspect

homicide - the act of murder

hunch - guess; instinct

informer - relays information to police/detective for money (usually)

inquest/inquiry - legal questioning concerning a particular event or action

lead - something/someone that may help move an investigation to a solution

malice aforethought - criminal was already considering a hostile act before the crime occurred

manslaughter - accidental killing

misdemeanor - minor offense

modus operandi - method of operation (m.o.) that a criminal employs during his crimes

morgue - city government building where dead bodies are kept during investigations

motive - reason for committing a crime

perpetrator - offender; criminal

post mortem - the report from an autopsy

premeditation - deliberate intent to perform a crime before it occurs

private eye - private detective

prosecutor - attorney working for the District Attorney; person trying to prove guilt in a courtroom

red herring - a false clue that usually misleads the reader (and often the detective)

set-up - a trap that is designed to catch a criminal or victim

sleuth - detective

statement - official document containing information supplied by witness, suspect, or any other person involved in an investigation

stool pigeon - informer

surveillance - constant visual or electronic monitoring of a person’s activities

suspect - someone who may have reason to have committed a specific crime

tank - jail cell

third degree - intensive questioning of a suspect

victim - person who is hurt or killed as a result of a criminal act

Sources: 1 2 Writing Notes: Autopsy ⚜ Word Lists: Forensics ⚜ Law-Related

[tozettastone]

Fantasy Novels Recommended By Vibes

A note about warnings and assumptions: I have given no content warnings, but most of these books have them, usually for violence or sexism. Except the middle grade books. I have assumed everyone knows who Tolkien and Jordan and Le Guin and GRRM are and does not require me to recommend them once more. I have also assumed that everyone following me has read and enjoyed the trashiest of fanfiction at some point or other.

Now, let's go.

"I want something that feels like reading the unhinged fanfiction of a 16 year old girl, but written by and for adults so the sex scenes don't make me feel deeply uncomfortable."

Oh boy. Okay. Don't worry, I've got you.

The Black Jewels trilogy by Anne Bishop. High fantasy. If you like to categorise things you will love the worldbuilding in this. Weird and gender essentialist, although not in the way you might expect.

The Merry Gentry series by L K Hamilton. Urban fantasy. Degrades in quality over time. I would say: read the first two, and then continue at your discretion depending on your tolerance.

"Do you have a version of this that is not quite so focused on sex as worldbuilding?"

I do, I do. Not everything that reads like unhinged fanfiction must automatically contain smut.

A Deadly Education and The Last Graduate by Naomi Novik. It's billed as adult fantasy, but it reads like YA. If you like 2010s fanfiction and wish it were better written more often, you'll love these two.

Any book by Mercedes Lackey will read exactly like fanfiction. I make no comments as to technical quality, but if you like hurt/comfort idfic, you will like these. If you're looking for a zero-romance, one-book introduction to these books, I'd try Brightly Burning.

"That's still a bit too adult. I want something that's fine to read with kids, too!"

Sure! Fantasy loves YA and kids' books, haha.

The Dark Is Rising sequence by Susan Cooper. Middle grade fantasy, leaning heavily on English folklore.

Legendborn by Tracy Deonn. Young adult urban fantasy. Concerned with the legacy of slavery in the US.

The Old Kingdom trilogy by Garth Nix. Young adult high fantasy. The pacing is strong, the worldbuilding is rad.

Tithe by Holly Black. Young adult fantasy. Her later books are better loved but I reread Tithe and then went and read The Cruel Prince for the first time this year and Tithe is better.

The Tortall books by Tamora Pierce. I like The Immortals, but reasonable minds will differ on this one. Middle grade high fantasy.

The Black Magician trilogy by Trudi Canavan. High fantasy, young adult.

"Okay, now I want young adult fantasy like that, but weird."

Weird. Hmm. Okay. Try:

The Tooth Fairy by Graham Joyce. Horror and fantasy, young adult, but not like... too young an adult. Give it to a 15 year old, not a 10 year old.

"That's... too weird. Put some weird back. I want something suitable for teens that's committed to the aesthetics of weirdness, but is not actually weird."

Alright, here are a couple:

Anatomy: A Love Story by Dana Schwartz. Historical fantasy, definitely young adult. The grizzly aesthetics of 19th century graverobbing are a gossamer veil over a cute, but not particularly sophisticated, YA novel.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman. Middle grade fantasy. Less weird than it thinks it is, but still fun to read.

"Enough kids' stuff. I want fast-moving urban fantasy!"

Urban fantasy occupies a weird nexus between fantasy and detective noir, which I'm kinda into. Here are my suggestions:

I think everyone who wants urban fantasy is probably aware of the Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, but I'll put it here anyway because there's a big fandom for the Dresden Files so if you stick it out for a bit you get access to all the fics. The first one will take you 3.5 hours and if you don't like it, move on — the writing doesn't really change. Also has a TV series.

The Felix Castor novels by Mike Carey. Urban fantasy, a little more grim, but definitely better written.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch. Urban fantasy. Main character is a police officer. I recently finished the first of these books and it was pretty fun, but I can't speak to the remainder of the series.

"Tozette, I fucking loved True Blood."

You're in luck, I can make this a whole category.

I bet you've heard of the Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris already, but if you haven't, it's what the TV series was based on. Urban fantasy, but actually kind of rural.

Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter by L K Hamilton. Urban fantasy. Another LKH series that starts fun and degrades rapidly. The first three are fun, they come in an omnibus. I was obsessed with this series when I was 17, which both is and isn't a recommendation. Again, this series has a large fandom.

Dime Store Magic and Industrial Magic by Kelley Armstrong. Urban fantasy. The rest of the Women of the Otherworld series is hit or miss for me, but I do recall liking No Humans Involved.

The Blood Books by Tanya Huff. Urban fantasy. Read if you've ever wished Harry Dresden was female. Also has a TV series!

"Do you have some traditional high fantasy recommendations that aren't Tolkien, Robert Jordan, GRRM, or Ursula K Le Guin? Please?"

Absolutely. Of course. One hundred per cent.

The Elenium trilogy by David & Leigh Eddings. High fantasy. Technically there's also a sequel trilogy, but it's not as good.

The First Law trilogy by Joe Abercrombie. High fantasy. Lots of high fantasy politics.

Urshurak by The Bros. Hildebrandt. High fantasy. Extremely Tolkien inspired but with more amazon women in metal bikinis.

The Books of Pellinor by Alison Croggon. High fantasy. There's four of them and while I wouldn't say they're my favourite books ever, I do think they're a solid, competently written high fantasy series that will stop you from contemplating the horrors of reality for at least three days.

The Last Wish by Andrzej Sapkowski. High fantasy. A great rearrangement of European folklore. I struggled with the representations of women, personally, but they're well constructed stories.

"Recommend something that's fantasy but feels like a totally different genre."

Okay. I can do that. Here you go:

The Chronicles of the Crystal Singers of Ballybran by Anne McCaffrey. It's a trilogy that's set in space and therefore engages with a sci-fi kind of vibe, but if you scratch the surface, the trilogy is fantasy all the way down.

The Case of Charles Dexter Ward by HP Lovecraft. Horror, but also historical fantasy.

The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde. The first three books of the Thursday Next series are gold, actually, but start here. This is about a literary detective living in an alternative history setting. Fantasy, but ideal for people who are going to get the rapid fire literary references.

"Tozette, what if you just recommend a single fantasy book, writer, or series, with your whole heart?"

My WHOLE heart? Okay. Here:

Johannes Cabal the Necromancer, Johannes Cabal the Detective, and Johannes Cabal: the Fear Institute by Jonathan L Howard are each different subgenres of fantasy, and all three of them are absolute fucking bangers. They are the best books on this list according to me. I love them.

[k20spock]

Gecko’s list of free video games you should play right now

Hi I’m gecko I like video games and I like not paying 60 dollars for them so here’s a list of some free games I’ve unearthed and liked. Enjoy

(most of these are small, more obscure games made by a few people or even just one person, so support the creators if you can!! Some of these do have a pay what you want model)

Hikeback (Itch.io) 

You see a hitchhiker flagging you down during a long, lonely drive through the countryside. No matter how you choose to handle the situation, you end up back on that road. And then again. And again. And again, until you find a way to escape a loop of violence and self-sabotage. Hikeback is a visual novel inspired by the fable of the frog and the scorpion, and it takes about an hour to reach the ending. It’s available on Windows, Mac, Linux, and browser, and there’s a detailed list of content warnings on the game’s itch.io page. One of my strongest recommendations, Hikeback is an incredible experience, and it was made in only ten days!!

Purrgatory (Itch.io) (Steam)

Find ways to pass the time in an inexplicably cat-themed but otherwise pretty dull afterlife, and befriend its other inhabitants. Purrgatory can hit hard when it wants to, but it’s mostly a relaxed point and click game that takes about a few hours if you want the true ending (which you do). And also I really don’t like recommending things going “it’s rep!!” and not elaborating on what the thing is actually about, but Purrgatory does have a mostly explicitly LGBT+ cast and Korean characters by a Korean artist. It’s been a few years since I played Purrgatory, but I remember it was an incredible experience, and since then, even more people can play it because it’s been fully translated into Spanish and Simplified Chinese! It’s available on Windows and browser.

How Fish is Made (Itch.io) (Steam)

How Fish is Made includes incredible retro-style graphics, a sardine flopping around in a machine with a choice to make, a singing, cane-wielding, tophat-wearing, tongue-eating parasitic isopod, and a free expansion/trailer for the studio’s next game that’s like if Katamari Damacy was evil and also had fish in it. That’s the best I can do for a summary. How Fish is Made is available on Windows and takes about 30-45 minutes, but will itch your brain for much longer.

Stop Burying Me Alive, Beautiful (Itch.io)

A visual novel in which you are stuck between trying to convince your girlfriend you are not dead and she should stop burying you alive, and playing rat-themed card games with a woman you find living underground. The game doesn’t always do a great job walking the line between comedy and horror, but there’s some strong writing depicting a failing relationship and very strong artwork that makes this an easy recommendation. Stop Burying Me Alive, Beautiful is on Windows, Mac, Linux, and browser, and takes about half an hour. 

Caper in the Castro (Internet Archive)

Ok this one is pretty different, but fuck it, it was originally released for free in 1989 (with a recommendation to make a donation to charity instead) and is still free so I’m including it. Not enough people are aware that you can play the first known video game by and about gay people on your computer right now for free and it has that classic adventure game bullshit sometimes but it’s extremely playable and also funny as shit. Like it’s not just cool history it’s actually fun (sorry Gayblade). You play as a lesbian private detective named Tracker McDyke looking for your missing drag queen friend and you can get most of the doors in the game open by shooting them. People have made full walkthroughs for this game and how to get it working if you have trouble so there’s no excuse. Play Caper in the Castro.

Under a Star Called Sun (Itch.io) (Liminal Magazine)

A browser game made in Bitsy that’s extremely simple and only a few minutes long, but that’s all it needs to create a succinct, gut-wrenching depiction of grief. 

Hotel Infinity (Itch.io)

If you need more short Bitsy games you can play in your browser that are about death, you’re out of luck after this because I’ve only got the two. Hotel Infinity is more lighthearted, tasking you with checking in on your ghostly hotel guests, and helping one check out. It’s simple, but sweet and affecting. 

Water Womb World (Itch.io)

Back to marine life-themed horror. Water Womb World is about a man’s obsessive search for the Garden of Eden leading him to the bottom of the ocean. There’s a few brief moments of annoyance in the gameplay, but the atmosphere and visuals are fantastic. Fantastic enough I bought the shirt, because I like cool shirts. It's available for Mac and Windows, and takes about 15 minutes. 

Hyperhell (Itch.io) (Steam)

A rogue-like bullet hell with a hyperpop soundtrack. It’s a mess, but in a good way. A run can (allegedly, I am not very good at bullet hells and I wasn’t able to get all the way to the end) be under ten minutes, but the game is very replayable with its different characters, weapons, bosses, and DDR and fishing minigames. You might have heard of this one already because maia has a cameo in it, but it really is a fun, if slightly painful for your eyes, time. It’s available on Windows.

Magicafe HD (Itch.io)

Under a technicality, I haven’t played this one yet, but that’s because I played the original text-based version of this game and I didn’t know the dev had converted it to a full visual novel until right now when I went to recommend the original. I’m certain this version is even better! It’s a cute, simple visual novel about a girl trying to get to her job at a magical girl themed cafe, while dealing with the struggles of secretly also being an actual magical girl. Available on Windows, and lasts about half an hour. The original is available on browser here if you’re interested. 

Dedz0ne (Itch.io)

Ok, wrapping up on a weird one since this isn’t really a universal recommendation. Dedz0ne is a Yume Nikki/Splatoon fangame inspired by Dedf1sh’s backstory and the atmosphere of Octo Expansion in general. It came out before Side Order so it’s not accurate to it, but it’s a really neat game with great visuals and atmosphere. It’s available on Windows

And that’s it for now. There will probably be a sequel someday because I am unable to stop digging through free games. Or maybe a collection of not free but extremely cheap games (like under five bucks) I like. Who knows! I hope you found something that catches your eye here!

[loquora]

I'd like to take a couple of minutes to talk about NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writers Month) and their terrible, very bad, no good stance on genAI (generative artificial intelligence) and why I won't be writing anything for this challenge again.

I'm very aware that I am an active and vocal genAI hater. But I am willing and open to hear about positive and useful things LLMs (large language models) can do. There are valid scientific uses for the technology and some really fascinating medical and academic breakthroughs that come from LLMs. But the use of genAI in creative writing context is complete bullshit.

Come with me for the breakdown.

The first part of their statement:

NaNoWriMo has made it clear they are not just tolerating genAI in their month long writing challenge, but that those of us who don't are 'classist' and 'ableist' because we don't.

The post was later amended with a list of reasons why they make each of those claims. We'll start from the top.

GenAI uses the technology in a way that is morally, ethically and environmentally bankrupt. See, all LLMs have to train on something. When you're using it to, say, detect cancers you can feed it images of cancer scans so that it builds up a dataset of what those look like to predict future scans. But when you want to generate text, images and video you have to feed it text, images and video. Those things came from people, actual people and actual artists who overwhelmingly did not agree to train anything with their work and can no longer wrest their work from the machine now that it's been stolen from them.

It also isn't 'intelligent' at all, considering it has that word in the name. Think of genAI like an alien learning our language with absolutely no frame of reference for what it's learning. It can predict that the letters "w-e" and "c-a-n" often come after the letters "y-e-s" because the phrase "yes we can" will come up often in training data, it's a common phrase. But it doesn't actually understand what any of those words MEAN. Just that they often follow one another so that when prompted it will, statistically, try put those letters and words together again.

So when it comes to actually writing or responding to prompts what you're getting is the most likely outcome based on a massive amount of data input. It is not actually giving you feedback on what your writing looks like, it's giving you the most statistically possible response based on input. It's fake feedback, a thousand other feedbacks crammed together and extruded into a goo that looks and sounds like feedback but is actually meaningless. ChatGPT doesn't understand your writing sample anymore than a phone tree understands your anger and desperation when you continue to say "OPERATOR" as clearly as you can to try to get through to a real human. Both understand you input a word and will output based on that, but context, emotions, cultural mores etc. are all beyond it.

This is why AI is so absurdly shitty at things like math, counting letters in words and identifying words that start with the same letter. It's mashing together a million math problem answers betting on the likelihood that statistically someone has already answered that question enough times in the training data that it can spit the correct answer out at you.

TLDR: If you're using genAI to get feedback on your writing you're not actually getting feedback on your writing at all, but the most statistically probable set of words that relate to feedback. So right off the bat the idea that genAI is going to help you be a better writer is just flat wrong. It doesn't know how to write, it doesn't even know how many Rs are in the word 'strawberry'.

Second point has the same issues as the first:

I actually agree with them on the point that if your brain doesn't handle certain writer activities well it's perfectly okay to use an outside source for help with it. GenAI isn't actually helping you be a better writer, though; it can't. It doesn't understand anything you write nor can it provide meaningful feedback when it's just spitting out statistically probably words to you based on your input. So while the point here is actually good on the surface, the solution of using genAI to help people who have trouble with certain aspects of writing is still not correct.

The final point:

Again, this is a very good point... if it wasn't being made in conjunction with a defense of generative AI WHICH DOES NOT HELP OR SOLVE THIS ISSUE. In fact, because of the known issues of bias in how genAI LLMs are built they can make issues for marginalized writers worse.

I genuinely have no idea how this very true paragraph about people who are routinely pushed out of traditional writing spaces is helped by genAI. Their entire point thus far seems to be that genAI is a 'cheap' alternative to some traditional writing aids but considering genAI doesn't work like that it's all dead in the water as far as I'm concerned.

If NaNoWriMo was actually concerned with solving these access issues to things they consider critical to writing in general, why not offer a place for real people to read and critique one another on their platform? There are myriad other technological solutions that don't cost huge amounts of water AND actually help aspiring writers!

All of this to say that you should write for yourself, write what you enjoy and get better the same way generations of people before you have: by reading other people's work, talking to and exchanging time with other authors and writing and rewriting in your own words until you're satisfied.

Wasting water asking genAI to do things for you that would make you a better writer to do yourself or with trusted allies is just that, a waste.

[unpredictable-probabilities]

Where It Goes

Summary:

When a train breaks down during a snowstorm, the passengers are forced to spend the night at a hotel.

Two strangers share their Christmas plans and find themselves enjoying the company much more than they expected.

Rating: Explicit

Notes (more at the end):

For Sandman Connect 4 | @sandman-connect4

Prompts: Train + Breakdown + Feast + Explore

I'd been wanting to write a one-shot inspired by this fic written by @softest-punk, and this combination of prompts finally gave me the window for it~

Word Count: 5,130

———

Snow is falling softly on a Friday evening in December, and the streets are alive with brilliant lights and Christmas carols.

Morpheus sees all this with distant interest as he glances up from his book, making sure it isn’t his station yet when the train begins to slow to a stop.

Some people on either side of him get up to exit, and Morpheus goes back to reading. In his periphery, he notices that a couple and their child have just gotten aboard, and he moves to his left to make space for them on the bench.

The train begins to move again. Morpheus is in the middle of figuring out the clues that the detective has discovered in the novel when he feels something bump against his shoulder.

He looks to his left and sees that the man sitting beside him has fallen asleep, his arms wrapped securely around a backpack on his lap.

Morpheus purses his lips. His first instinct is to avoid the touch, uncomfortable with physical contact even from friends and family. However, he understands how tiring public commute can be, especially with the Christmas Eve rush. So he takes a breath and lets it be, managing to get back to the story.

Two stations later, the train lurches to an abrupt halt, making most of the passengers give a shout of surprise.

The man on Morpheus’ shoulder tips forward, and Morpheus instinctively holds out his hand to the man’s backpack to steady him. The man startles awake and sits up, blinking owlishly as the train makes a screeching sound, grinding to a halt halfway into the station.

“Sorry, mate,” the man slightly shakes his head and stifles a yawn behind his hand. “Didn't mean to fall asleep. Uh, what's happening?” He straightens the front of his brown jacket.

Morpheus furrows his eyebrows as he looks around at the other confused passengers. “I believe the train has broken down.”

No sooner has he said the words when the sound of the tannoy comes on and they hear the voice of the conductor informing them that there seems to be a problem with the engine, and everyone has to disembark the train now while they make repairs.

The passengers murmur and grumble their complaints, but there's nothing else to be done about it. The doors open and people begin filing out.

Morpheus sighs and closes his book. He should have known that going home to attend his parents’ Christmas dinner would bring only misfortune.

—

Hob adjusts the straps of his backpack on his shoulders as he goes with the crowd to enter the nearest hotel from the train station.

Snow is falling heavily now, and most of the main roads are closed. Some passengers had started complaining to the conductor and security guards and whoever else in uniform they could find, and so a compromise was reached that they would all be booked to stay the night in a nearby hotel, paid for by the train company as compensation for causing such a hassle on Christmas Eve, in exchange for the passengers not suing them or filing a mountain of complaints.

Hob isn't feeling particularly angry; he's sad to miss his parents’ Christmas dinner, but he's seen enough snowy Christmases to know that he can still most likely make it in time for Christmas Day brunch at their house.

Waking up to the bluest eyes he's ever seen also helped a lot with his mood. He scans the hotel lobby now for the man, but it's difficult with the crowd of people. Hob wonders briefly if the man didn't go to the hotel with them, but it seems unlikely considering how there's hardly any cabs driving in this weather.

A hotel staff approaches them and says that unfortunately due to the amount of people coming in all at once, they would have to share rooms for the night. There's more grumbling and scoffing, and the hotel staff says that a simple meal would be prepared for them soon, and they can wait in the lobby while the food and their rooms are being arranged.

People slowly settle down into seats, and Hob looks around to find himself a vacant flat surface to sit on.

His eyes land on a man seated on the third step of the stairs leading to the second floor. The buttons of the man’s black peacoat are undone, giving him a somewhat relaxed air as his gaze focuses on the book in his lap, his slender legs stretched gracefully on the lower steps.

Hob feels himself smile and makes his way towards the man. He unslings his backpack from his shoulders and gets something from the outer pocket.

“While we wait for dinner,” Hob holds out the unopened buttered croissant in clear packaging.

The man glances at him, then at the food in his hand. “Thank you, but it is not necessary. I am not hungry.”

Hob nods and returns the croissant in his bag. “Alright, well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind. Is it alright if I sit?” he points to the stairs. “Everywhere else is full.”

The man glances at the crowded lobby and nods. “Of course.” He turns a page in his book and returns to reading.

Hob sits on the same step as the man, on the farthest side against the wall. Fortunately, the staircase is wide enough that there's still plenty of space between them for people to walk through if they wanted to use the stairs.

Hob places his backpack on the step below him and takes out his phone to message his parents. He informs them of the situation and reassures them that he'll be home for Christmas brunch.

They talk for a while in the family group chat, and Hob is glad to know that the snowfall isn't too heavy at his parents’ place.

He looks up when he sees some people walking around, and he realises that they're starting to set up tables and distribute food.

Hob glances over to the man beside him, and he still looks the same as when Hob first approached; quietly reading his book with a very subtle frown of concentration, partly leaning against the railing.

Hob considers informing him that dinner is almost ready, but he gets a better idea.

He stands up and slings his backpack on his shoulders, and heads over to help with setting up.

A few minutes later, Hob comes back to the man with a plate of food. “Here you go,” he holds it out.

The man glances up and looks at the plate: grapes, cheese, two slices of white bread, and ham.

“Wasn't sure what you'd like so I brought the safest options,” Hob says sheepishly.

The man tilts his head a fraction to the side. “Why did you bring anything at all?”

Hob shrugs and sits down against the wall again, setting his backpack down. “To thank you for catching me earlier? Would have fallen on my face if you hadn't.”

“It was simply common decency,” the man said indifferently.

“So is this,” Hob holds out the plate again.

The man gives a small smile. “Thank you.” He takes the plate, but then a notification sound from his pocket takes his attention. He sets the plate down beside him and takes out his phone, frowning when he reads the screen.

“Something troubling you?” Hob picks up a grape from his own plate. “If you don't mind me asking.”

“I was supposed to go to my parents’ house tonight for Christmas dinner. I informed them earlier of the situation, and the passive-aggressive messages have begun,” he says drily.

“Maybe they're just worried about you?” Hob offers.

“They're worried about their image,” the man corrects him. “For reasons I am yet to understand, they want all their friends to see on social media that we spend Christmas together annually. Perhaps they think it would somehow draw in more business for their country club.”

“Oh.” Hob falls quiet. It’s a bit surreal to hear, especially since it’s a stark contrast to how Hob feels about celebrating Christmas with his family.

There’s another notification sound, but this time the man smiles at his phone. “My older sister told me to be safe, and my younger sibling called me a ‘lucky bastard’ for not being there right now.”

“I’m guessing none of you actually enjoy those dinners?” Hob smiles despite the unhappy sentiment, just glad to see that the man’s mood seems to have improved.

“Indeed,” the man sighs and returns his phone to his pocket. “Ah, where are my manners. I am Morpheus.” He holds out a hand.

Hob grins. “Hob,” he shakes Morpheus’ hand. “Hopefully you have a better Christmas Eve now than last year. No posh parents to tolerate here. Unless you wanna approach any of them in the lobby,” he nods in the direction of it.

Morpheus chuckles. “How about you, then? Where were you headed?”

“Same as you, Christmas dinner with family. We do it yearly, too. No complaints so far, apart from when I extremely messed up that batch of cookies two years back.”

Morpheus raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “How does one ‘extremely mess up’ cookies?”

“When one misreads ½ cup of baking soda as 2 ½ cups. Tasted like chemicals, I nearly choked on it,” Hob scrunches up his face at the memory.

“Where did the 2 come from?” Morpheus asks in amusement.

“It was the second item on the ingredients list. I thought ‘2’ was part of the measurement, since it was right beside the ‘½’,” Hob explains, gesturing with his hands.

Morpheus glances at his plate like it might be poisoned. “You didn’t cook any of these, did you?”

“Oi!” Hob says indignantly. “That was one time! I’ve made excellent cookies since then.”

Morpheus laughs, a real one that brightens up his entire face and makes Hob feel pleasantly warm on the inside.

“Well,” Morpheus says as he calms down. “I’m sorry that your Christmas Eve is turning out to be bleaker than last year’s. It sounds like you actually enjoy spending it with your family,”

“Oh I do, but last year was… different.” A ridiculous understatement, but Hob isn’t sure how much would be socially acceptable to tell someone he just met.

Morpheus looks at him curiously. “I’m guessing it was worse than inedible cookies?”

Hob chuckles awkwardly and glances down at his plate. “Yeah, uh… my girlfriend at the time broke up with me.”

“On Christmas Eve?” Morpheus says in surprise.

“She felt like she had to, I think,” Hob shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I proposed. Thought it would be a grand romantic gesture. And it was, which was the problem. She said things were going too fast, I was too much, stuff like that.” He focused on getting a piece of lasagna from his plate, taking a bite of it and chewing slowly to make himself stop rambling.

“I see,” Morpheus said without pity or judgement in his voice, which Hob is grateful for. “I apologise for having brought up such a personal matter.”

“Nah it’s alright. It hurt an awful lot at the time, but I’ve made peace with it now,” Hob says sincerely. “It took a long while and a great deal of support from my friends and family, but eventually I was able to move on from it. We wanted different things, that’s all.”

Morpheus nods and uses his fork to put some ham and cheese on the piece of bread and puts the other slice on it to make a sandwich. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re too much,” he gestures with the sandwich towards Hob before taking a bite of it.

Hob chuckles and tugs at his earlobe, feeling his face warm. “Thanks, mate. Uh, you can go back to reading now,” he gestures to the book still open on Morpheus’ lap. “I just wanted to make sure you got some food before they ran out.”

Morpheus raises an eyebrow. “You don’t wish to speak with me anymore?”

“No, I do!” Hob says hurriedly. “It’s just that, my sister’s a bookworm and I know she hates it when people interrupt her reading.”

Morpheus smiles. “I see. And what does it mean when she willingly puts a book away in order to spend time with someone?”

“Oh, that’s a huge honour,” Hob says fondly. “It means she’s really interested…” he trails off when Morpheus closes his book and puts it in his small messenger bag. “You’re…?”

“Interested? Yes.”

“In me?” Hob says without thinking and almost takes it back.

“Are you opposed?”

“No,” Hob replies probably too quickly.

Morpheus’ eyes are twinkling with fond amusement, and Hob thinks the flush on his face might be glaringly obvious.

He is saved from saying anything embarrassing by the announcement of the hotel staff that the rooms are ready, and that they can queue up to get assigned with roommates.

Hob and Morpheus finish their remaining food and get up to stand in line. Morpheus hangs back a little when they reach the queue and gestures for Hob to be in front of him.

The now familiar notification sound catches Hob’s attention and he turns in time to see Morpheus looking at his phone screen with a sour expression.

“More passive-aggressive texts?” Hob asks sympathetically.

“Yes. I'm muting them now. I shall just claim that the snow had caused disruptions in signals.” Morpheus pockets his phone again, but there’s still a crease on his forehead.

“Are you alright?” Hob asks.

Morpheus lets out a breath. “They keep asking how my girlfriend is and whether I'm bringing her there tomorrow.”

Hob’s heart drops to his stomach. Morpheus has a girlfriend? But then why—

“I have not told them we had ended our relationship more than eight months ago.”

“Oh,” Hob feels guilty about how relieved he feels. “I'm… sorry to hear that.”

Morpheus shakes his head lightly. “It was for the best. She works in Greece, and our relationship could not survive the distance. But as you say, I’ve made peace with it. I just haven’t told my parents about the breakup because I know they’re planning to set me up with an heir to some company or other. I don’t know, I don’t really keep track of their business deals.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not having dinner with them,” Hob says to lighten the mood as they move up the line. “You can enjoy Christmas Eve for once.”

Morpheus smiles. “Indeed.”

They reach the front of the line and the woman at the desk asks Hob if he already has someone to share a room with or if they need to assign him one.

Hob realises he hasn't thought about it, and turns to Morpheus. “Do you wanna share a room?”

Morpheus nods. “Yes.” He looks at the woman. “How many would we be in one room?”

“Given the limited capacity of the hotel this evening, four people would share a double room, that's our room with two beds,” the woman adjusts her glasses. “And two people would be assigned to each single room with one bed. Extra mattresses and blankets will be provided upon request.”

Hob exchanges glances with Morpheus. He wouldn't mind sharing a room with more people, but it might be more comfortable if it's just the two of them, given that they know each other more than anyone else here. Safer too, since they already trust each other to some degree.

Yeah, keep making those excuses, Gadling, a part of Hob’s brain tells him.

“It's your turn in the queue,” Morpheus says. “You make the choice.”

“It'll be your room too,” Hob points out.

Morpheus looks away for a moment. “I am not prone to socialising.”

“Single room it is, then,” Hob tries not to sound too happy about it and nods to the woman to confirm.

She types something on her computer and gives them their key cards. “That’s on the second floor, down the hall to your right. Have a good evening,” she says with a friendly smile.

“Thank you,” Hob takes the cards and looks at her nametag. “Lucienne,” he returns the smile.

Hob hands Morpheus a key card and they head to the stairs.

“You can now resume your sleep from the train,” Morpheus says playfully as they walk side by side.

Hob smiles. “I guess, but I'm not really sleepy anymore. I think I'd walk around and explore the place for a bit, and ask for that extra mattress. You take the bed.”

Morpheus shakes his head. “I do not mind the mattress. You can have the bed.”

“We'll coin flip for it later,” Hob says when they reach their room.

Morpheus looks around and walks towards a small shelf with drinks and snacks. “All these and not a singular water bottle,” he frowns disapprovingly.

“Oh I have one, haven't opened it yet.” Hob unslings his backpack and places it down on a chair.

He opens the zipper and a small wrapped present nearly tumbles out, but he catches it in time. He takes the bottle of water he bought at a convenience store earlier and puts the present back in the bag before zipping it shut again.

“Here you go,” Hob holds out the bottle as Morpheus walks over to him. “And that buttered croissant still has your name on it if you want it,” he pats the pocket where it still sits.

“Your bag is full of presents,” Morpheus says curiously as he accepts the bottle.

“Ah, yeah,” Hob chuckles. “For my parents and siblings. Stayed up late last night wrapping them, that's why I was dozing off on the train.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Morpheus smiles and opens the water bottle to take a sip.

“They'd have some for me too, we like giving each other presents. Nothing fancy, just small trinkets and things that we think would make each other happy.”

Morpheus' smile turns wistful. “Your family sounds lovely.”

“And your siblings would want you to have a lovely evening. How about it, then? Stroll around a bit before we argue who takes the bed?”

“There shall be no arguments. We will take the stroll and you will be too tired afterwards and fall asleep on the bed,” Morpheus declares lightly.

“You're not gonna outlast me that easily, I've spent many nights telling my nieces and nephews bedtime stories. And they do not fall asleep after just one.”

Morpheus huffs out a chuckle. “Lead the way, then.”

They go downstairs and order cups of hot chocolate from the crowded café before walking aimlessly around the hotel. They find a garden blanketed with thick snow, and a small gym that's closed for the night.

They eventually end up on a small balcony on the second floor overlooking the amenities at the back of the hotel.

“There's a tennis court,” Hob notices. “Do you play?”

Morpheus shakes his head. “I am not inclined towards sports.”

“What do you do, then? When you're not getting stranded in hotels with strangers.”

“I own a pub that also rents out rooms for those who need a place to stay.”

“Wow, I wouldn't have figured you as a pub owner.”

Morpheus arches an eyebrow in amusement. “You’d have expected me to have a beard? To be more extroverted like a bartender?”

“No,” Hob chuckles. “You just look like an artist, that's all. One of those fancy ones. With your eye for books and gorgeous fashion sense.”

Morpheus smiles. “I do play the piano and write songs, so you're not entirely wrong.”

“Really? I'd love to hear you play some time,” Hob says and instantly regrets it.

It implies a next time, that he wants to keep seeing Morpheus even after tonight.

Too much, too soon. A ring discarded on the coffee table—

“I would love to play for you,” Morpheus' soft voice puts a halt on Hob's thoughts. His blue eyes are bright with sincerity, and his lips curve with that smile that Hob is beginning to grow fond of. “And what do you do, Hob? Apart from judging people based on their appearance.”

“Hey, you just said I wasn't entirely wrong,” Hob points out.

Morpheus just chuckles and takes a sip from his cup.

“I'm a college professor, Literature.” Hob leans against the railing.

“I see,” Morpheus sounds pleasantly surprised. “Do you nurture young minds to express themselves through the written word, or torture them with poetry analyzations?”

“I delight them with Christopher Marlowe, thank you very much. I torture them with Shakespeare.”

Morpheus laughs and glances down into his cup. “I must admit I… did not expect this at all when they said we would have to spend the night here.”

“You didn't expect a college professor with a bag full of wrapped trinkets?” Hob finishes his hot chocolate and places the cup on the railing.

Morpheus smiles and looks at Hob again, and Hob feels something flutter in his stomach at receiving a smile like that.

“I did not expect anyone at all. I am not the most… approachable, I've been told. I had thought I would be spending Christmas Eve by myself.” He empties his cup too and sets it down beside Hob’s.

Hob wonders who could have told Morpheus that, but he decides not to pry and just shrugs. “I didn't want to spend Christmas Eve alone, and you're good company.” He takes a step closer and playfully leans forward. “I'm glad it's you I accidentally fell asleep on.”

Morpheus chuckles and also takes a step closer. “And I'm glad I put my book away to spend time with you.”

“Still interested, then?” Hob says even as his face warms.

“Yes.” Morpheus holds his gaze, eyes glittering with intent.

Hob’s mouth suddenly goes dry, and he can’t help but stare at those rosy pink lips, wondering if they would taste like the chocolate drink Morpheus just finished.

“You're the one who told me to enjoy Christmas Eve, correct?” Morpheus steps even closer.

Hob swallows, meeting Morpheus’ eyes and unable to look away. “Y-Yeah, you should.” He could easily step backwards to put more distance between them, but right now there's nothing on this earth that could make him want to do that.

“Hob…” Morpheus whispers and noses along Hob’s cheekbone, his warm breath like a caress.

Hob grabs Morpheus' face with both hands and presses their lips together, swallowing the pleased hum that slipped out of Morpheus.

The glide of their tongues against each other is soft, and Hob was right that Morpheus’ mouth would taste like the hot chocolate, except it’s infinitely better and Hob can’t stop chasing the heat of it.

Morpheus wraps his arms around Hob’s waist, and Hob summons a great deal of willpower to pull away from the kiss, placing his hands on Morpheus' shoulders.

“Morpheus…” Hob says breathlessly. “I want… I want to keep seeing you after this. So if this is just a one-time thing for you, tell me now so I know to expect it. We’d both been with other people relatively recently and I don't want you to think I'm just using you as a replacement because I was really sad this time last year—”

Morpheus gently places a finger to Hob's lips. “I wish to keep seeing you as well.” He retracts his finger to cup Hob’s face instead, running a thumb across his cheekbone. “And neither am I using you as a mere replacement. I said I would love to play music for you, and I meant it. Even if we go no further tonight, I am already glad to have met you.”

Hob takes a steadying breath and tightens his grip on Morpheus' shoulders to ground himself. “Okay, okay… If you're alright with it, then I wanna see you again some time after tonight. I'm really glad to have met you too, and I wanna see where this goes.”

Morpheus tenderly rests his forehead against Hob’s. “I dearly enjoy your company and I would like the same.” He pulls back to look at Hob. “Though I am hoping that where this goes next is to our shared bedroom?” he says with a fond smile. “Even if all you want to do is talk, I wish to keep holding you in my arms and—”

Hob has surged up to kiss him again, pushing him backwards against a wall.

Morpheus puts his hands on the small of Hob’s back and pulls him closer, meeting the kiss with such enthusiasm that it makes Hob pleasantly lightheaded.

They do eventually make it to their bedroom, though Hob can't at all remember how. He just hears the click of a lock and the next thing he knows he's on his back on the bed, Morpheus looming beautifully over him.

He grabs the front of Morpheus' coat and pulls him down, kissing him like he needs it to breathe.

Morpheus' tongue dives deep, exploring Hob's mouth and eliciting sounds that Hob might have been embarrassed by if not for the fact that Morpheus is making them too.

Morpheus' fingers slip under Hob's shirt and he shivers, earning him another pleased hum.

They push and pull and squirm until coat and jacket and shirts fall unceremoniously to the floor.

Hob feels the hard line of Morpheus' cock against his own through their trousers and a wounded noise escapes him, his hips bucking up to chase more of the sensation.

Morpheus mirrors his impatience and reaches with trembling fingers to undo Hob’s fly. Hob bites his lip to maintain a modicum of composure as he returns the favour, and soon enough they've divested each other of the rest of their clothing.

Hob gets impossibly harder at the sight of Morpheus cock, but he doesn't have much time to stare as Morpheus captures his lips once more.

They rut against each other, precome making them slick and sticky as they moan into their kisses. Hob remembers seeing snow outside but he doesn't feel the slightest bit cold; his skin is on fire and every touch of Morpheus only stokes the flames.

Hob threads his fingers through Morpheus' hair, keeping him in place and relishing in the feeling of soft raven locks under his hands.

He feels a hand wrap around both of their cocks and Hob gasps, breaking the kiss and eyes rolling back in his head.

Morpheus sucks and nips at his neck as he strokes down their lengths, his pace quickening until he's making muffled whimpers against Hob's skin.

Hob’s legs begin to tremble, he digs his fingernails into Morpheus' back and his mouth falls open in anticipation as he feels the familiar pull at the base of his spine.

“Hob…” Morpheus moans sinfully into his neck.

Hob's response is a sound that's all vowels, but he thinks he can't be blamed when Morpheus is tightening his hand and twisting his wrist in a way that's slowly driving him mad.

Hob takes Morpheus' face and brings it up to him, wishing once more to feel those soft lips against his own.

Their kiss is more gasping and panting than a proper kiss, but Hob is too far gone to care. He thrusts up desperately into the circle of Morpheus' hand, his eyes squeezed shut and his heart thundering in his chest.

Morpheus deepens the kiss and sucks on Hob's tongue at the same time as he twists his grip—

Lightning shoots up Hob’s spine and his vision goes white as he comes, shaking uncontrollably with his screams muffled against Morpheus' mouth.

Morpheus follows him a moment after with a strangled sob, thrusting and pressing Hob’s body repeatedly into the bed as he milks them both of every drop of spend.

They're both whimpering when Morpheus slows down his pace and stops entirely, collapsing on top of Hob.

Hob can barely feel his limbs but he manages to put a soothing hand on Morpheus' back, and they catch their breaths together as they feel each other’s heartbeats return to normal.

Somewhere outside the hotel, a clock strikes midnight, and the distant sound of Christmas songs can be heard.

“Merry Christmas,” Morpheus smiles and gives him a soft kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” Hob whispers, still on this side of breathless.

Morpheus slides off him to lay on his side, and Hob immediately turns around and pulls him into an embrace, their noses almost touching.

“I never asked, what were your plans for Christmas Day?”

Morpheus hums and idly runs his fingers through Hob's chest hair. “Pretend to still have no phone signal so I can keep avoiding my parents. Though I shall send a text to my siblings to let them know I am safe.”

“Then… Then, if you'd like, you can come with me to brunch?” Hob asks hesitantly. “It's another yearly thing we do as a family, and you're welcome to join.”

Morpheus' eyes widen slightly, and Hob starts to panic.

“I know I said we'll still see where it goes, you and I, I mean. But it doesn't have to mean much, it's just brunch and I want you to have a happy Christmas too and—”

Morpheus stops him with a kiss, and Hob distantly thinks in the back of his mind that that's a dangerous way of spoiling him. He might never shut up if that's how Morpheus always quiets him.

“Hob,” Morpheus says softly when he pulls away. “I would very much like to spend Christmas with you and your family. Though I'd argue I'm already having a happy Christmas right now,” he smiles.

Hob chuckles in relief and presses closer to Morpheus, tucking his face in the crook of his neck. “Just you wait, we haven't even begun yet. I'd make you breakfast but there's nothing to cook here, so we'll just have to see what's in the café tomorrow before we leave.”

“Does that buttered croissant still have my name on it?” Morpheus asks as he caresses Hob’s back. “I'll have that for breakfast if it means I get to spend a few more hours cuddling you in this bed.”

Hob groans and pulls away to look at Morpheus. “You're actually driving me mad, you know that? You can't be gorgeous and sweet, it's not fair.”

“You are very much the same, yet you don't hear me complaining.”

Hob feels himself flush, and Morpheus smiles and snuggles into him, resting his head under Hob's chin.

Hob can’t help but smile as well, and he lets his eyes close as he feels the pleasant warmth of Morpheus' body against him.

Hob pulls the blanket over them both, and as they fall asleep in each other’s embrace, Hob thinks that he's already having a happy Christmas too.

———

Notes:

Hob's Baking Soda Bungle is based on that time my sister misread the baking soda measurement in the recipe. The cookies really did taste like chemicals 🥲

Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! <3

———

(2024 Sandman Connect4 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[mosaickiwi]

After reading your Ren/Angel writings (love them all ❤️)an idea poped up. Mc doesn't like the taste of artifical cherries so they avoid eating any cherry flavored candies. Ren knows this. But somehow Mc notices Ren seems to secretly love cherry candies so Angel surprises them with a variety of cherry candies 🍬

💝 Wondering how they find out hmm. Cherry scented cologne hidden in the bathroom? Ren taking 0.25 seconds longer than usual to pick a little treat in line at the grocery store? Detective Angel is on the case...!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Very Cherry

The rustling of plastic bags was unmistakable as you opened all the things you'd bought, but [REDACTED] dutifully kept his eyes closed. You accidentally knocked one bag over and sent a few lollipops careening off the table with a loud clatter. A few fell into his lap. He pretended not to notice.

“Y’really don't want any he—”

“No!!” you quickly interrupted him, already picking the candies up. “It's a surprise.”

Finally, after discarding a few damaged goods, the bowl you'd set before him was full. All sorts of colorful sweets were piled together. Gummies, chocolates, hard candies and more, each with a cherry flavor to them that you were certain he’d love.

You made a face at the pile, but thankfully none of it was for you to snack on. “You can open your eyes,” you said, but changed your mind immediately. “Wait! Wait—” You ran around to sit opposite of them at the table. Seeing his reaction was all you could think of for the past few weeks. “Okay, now open them.”

Their eyes opened, neither shocked nor surprised, but excited nonetheless. “‘Was wonderin’ what y’were buying all this candy y’don’t even like for. Seemed like too much for the kids at the library.”

“Hey!” You didn't expect him to admit to stalking your internet history. “I thought you'd learn to stop snooping by now. Act surprised, or else.”

They grinned before doing their best soft and shy Haruko impression—a mockery of an act they'd long since dropped. “O-Oh, a gift? You're so sweet, Angel!! I can't believe you bought these for me. I promise I'll treasure it!”

You rolled your eyes, but answered with sincerity, “You're worth every cent. I like seeing you happy, Ren. And I like making you happy.”

“Shit…” [REDACTED] muttered and rubbed at his jaw, almost at a loss for words. “I... Thank you. Really.”

In spite of the genuine blush forming on the hacker’s cheeks, you could tell he had mixed feelings. Of course they'd be grateful for anything you gifted him. But if it was something that you were open about hating, the item in question would be avoided altogether. Regardless of his own feelings on the matter. It was a strange tendency they couldn’t really let go of just yet. 

Encouragement, and a little pleading, would do the trick, though. 

“I worked really hard to find all of these. And I was looking forward to seeing your face when you finally had some,” you said, practically pouting at them, your chin resting in the palms of your hands. “Just a bite?” 

Both the statements were true. Since you couldn't stand the flavor you thoroughly scoured all the online reviews before enlisting the pickiest of your friends to taste test, then repeated it all to find candies that suited him. Enough to get a wide variety. So the results from all that effort were very important to you.

Incapable of ever refusing the smallest request, your partner grabbed a wrapped candy at random from the bowl. It was a half moon shape, and a bright shade of red with a white line along the round edge. Kiara had suggested that one—but only after telling her all the expensive candies she sent would use up a huge chunk of your budget. 

You chose to keep that information to yourself as he carefully unwrapped the gummy candy. Any mention of another person would no doubt sour his mood.

[REDACTED] held the candy up to their lips, and instead of eating it whole, they took the tiniest nibble you'd ever seen. Still, his face lit up at the first sample. He took another tiny bite, then another and another. As if he couldn’t decide between savoring or devouring it completely.

“Do you like it?” You leaned forward on the table, relishing in his reaction. 

He swallowed to answer you right away, putting the candy—with not even half of it missing—back in its paper. “Yeah. ‘Like it a lot, actually.” 

The bowl’s many candies crinkled as you fished through it to pull more of the same type out. “They have a sour version, too. I'm sure you'll like that one even better,” you said. In the small pile of half moons you made, there were a few speckled with white sugar. He took another. “I'll order some more so you don't have to eat them like… that.” 

“‘M not trying t’save ‘em,” he mumbled, though the delicate way he unwrapped a sour gummy and started nibbling again like a hamster said otherwise. It was a fascinating sight, if not completely silly for the man decked head to toe in black clothes, intimidating accessories, and silver piercings. You had to keep yourself from giggling and he insisted again. “Really, Angel. I jus’ wanna be able to thank you properly when I’m done.”

You smiled at their consideration. All too easily, you could imagine your face scrunching up at the cherry taste sure to linger on your boyfriend's tongue if he kept indulging. “I'd still kiss you even if you taste awful,” you teased.

As if to test your confidence, he popped the candy into his mouth and watched you pointedly. They took their sweet time to chew it, giving you time to reconsider the idea while he fiddled with a lollipop from the bowl.

Your nose wrinkled as the faint cherry smell finally wafted over, the fruity scent stronger than you anticipated. “... Maybe only on the cheek, though.”

He noisily stood from his chair, and you knew right away he was leaving to brush his teeth.