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lizzaneia-elizalde · 10 months ago

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Male Yandere Deep Sea-Creature x Female Mermaid Reader x Male Yandere Human

I don’t think you’ve ever done 2 yanderes pursuing the same darling, so think you could try it? (Unless I’m just stupid and aren’t remembering your other stories right)

We all know of the classic mercreature x human forbidden romance story, but what if there was another from the same marine world added into the mix? Yandere deep sea-creature is also in love with mermaid reader darling, so imagine what he’d do to keep her with him. Same goes for yandere human

This story you can hopefully have fun with as there’s so many ways it can turn out. And another note on why deep sea-creature…it was because I think a merman can be a bit boring, and it’d be interesting to explore a deep sea-creature instead (or straight up eldritch monster of your own creation). Just remember…deep sea-creatures usually get bigger the deeper you go. Much bigger thanks to deep sea gigantism…;)

(Re-sending this to you, because you said you only got 3 requests when I think I sent you 4. But if you had this request, just ignore this ask with this additional message at the end)

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Deep sea creature x mermaid! Fem! Reader x Human! Male! Hunter

OH THIS IS A DOOZY TO WRITE

By the way, guess whose birthday it is today (Hint: it's me LOL)

Got a little bit sidelined on this fic, but i tried. Two men pursuing darling ain't for me but for you, 💝anon, I'll do it ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

This one starts with (and focuses on) you, the reader, since I can't exactly make a yandere man focused fic with two men without making it really long. So unfortunately I cannot put that much of their lore.

Wait, so what does this mean? Do they belong to the same number, or separate? (I mean, I am targeting 16 yanderes in one set. So do they count as one or nah? Eh...)

Yandere! Deep Sea creature name: Viper (from the viperfish) Yandere! Hunter: Orion

It was truly an unfortunate day for you.

You, a mermaid living in the ocean, swimming freely without any people's judgements and even other mermaids.

You aren't exactly a woman of fear.

You love exploring. It's one of your favorite hobbies and actively seek out new thrills and discoveries.

In a world where mer/werpeople were still a newly discovered concept by humans, your folks were adamant on telling you to keep safe from them. Since humans are cruel and what not.

But you didn't care. You wish to see humans and their inventions.

Because of this, you became an outcast from your people, and live on your own in one of the trenches. Just a tad far away from oceanic civilization.

You felt bad for yourself, honestly. Why can't they just accept you're just thirsty for knowledge?

You want to swim up top, where the sun shines and the huge boats reside, with legged people running around in water vehicles. You want to know how they operated it, how they made it, and stuff like that.

Contrary to popular belief, Humans are the uneducated ones. They went on for years upon years not knowing about wer/merpeople other than their mythologies. Yet these other species had always blended with them seamlessly.

Foolish, but that's what made them fascinating for you.

But you only knew what's up above, but not...

The current suddenly felt cold as you lounged at one of the trench dugouts, and you looked down from your side.

It was deep. Too deep for you to explore.

You love the light, but hate the dark.

And it was dark down there. An eerie, dark blue of emptiness.

You're the only one in this abandoned trench, teeming with other sea life other than merpeople, with corals so beautiful and sea anemones that sway with the waters.

But as the trench go down... And down... And down...

They decreased in numbers till they got swallowed by the darkness.

You heard of deep sea merpeople sometimes, but a lot agreed to not look for them. For they are hideous and ugly. Some use them as a scare tactic for young merchildren, that these hideous and large merpeople will eat them alive.

Unfortunately, you believed those stories due to your parents drilling it in your head to not head down.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag, before swimming upwards as you saw a weird mechanism suddenly being dropped in the water via a boat.

You swam around it, curious to this weird ball. It's clearly cut in half then somehow glued together. It's tied to a rope, with little baits decorating the sides.

"Weird, how do humans catch fishes with this?" You asked to yourself, tilting your head as you swatted away the fishes from trying to eat the baits.

Curiosity got a hold of you though. And as you accidentally pulled a bait out from trying to carefully remove it, the ball bursts open and spews out a net, catching you off guard as you got enveloped by the fishnet.

"WHA--?!" As you got enveloped, your body got hauled back to the surface.

Your heart is beating wildly as you broke through the water tension. You can feel the heat of the sun now enveloping your body, which was once only can be felt by your face. You can feel the water dripping from your body down to the waters below, and the net digging onto your skin as your weight made the machine creek.

"Oh? A mermaid?"

A sultry voice said, snapping you from your fear. You looked up, and saw not two, but only one human in such a big boat.

He stood tall, with long legs in a fitted pair of pants and boots. He's wearing a dress shirt that hung loosely on his torso in an inserted fashion. He had a hooded look in his face, examining you over.

"This is the first time I saw a mermaid. Hey there, love." He said again in that voice that made you shiver.

He leans to the edge of the boat, his elbows on the railings. Looking at you with an inquisitve look.

"My name's Orion, love. What's yours?" He asked in a deep tone that made you gulp.

"Y/N..." You whispered, gripping your bag.

"Pretty name for a pretty mermaid." He smiled and you flushed red.

Due to being a recluse, you never got the chance to find a lover, let alone a mate.

As you started to dry out a bit, you scratched your skin, uncomfortable from the direct heat.

Orion saw this and went to the machine.

You curiously looked at what he's doing, trembling from the sudden realization that you're so close to a human invention!

You clutched your bag once more and intently watched as Orion hummed and pulled the lever, making you jerk back as the machine whirred to life and lowered your net.

"Forgive me, love. Thought I caught a big octopus or a huge school of fish." Orion said, making you nod as your body got immersed with the water.

The net unclasped from the bottom, which was held together by a strong magnet as it retreated back to the ball.

"Thank you, Orion." You whispered.

"No problem, love. I'm sorry for catching you like that again." Orion chuckled at your voice.

You didn't make a move from your place, still so curious about the boat. Orion noticed it and chuckled once more.

"Want to know stuff about boats?" He asked and you nodded eagerly. "Alright."

And, as Orion and you talked the afternoon off, you didn't notice a pair of eyes from down, down below look at you with such intensity, hostile.

Orion. A rich man who got a vessel by himself to know more about sealife, hunt them, and display them as catches.

He's always been interested marine life. Living by the seaside most of his life due to his yacht investing father and a beach resort owner mother, he's drawn to the sea in more ways than one.

Due to being mostly by the sea, he developed such tan skin that glistens under the sun whenever he walks by the port. Plus the way his face is built, he looks like a Carribean prince waiting for his mermaid to appear on the beach while not being able to speak.

But due to his parents' financial status, most of the time he only spends time by himself. Other children his age in that port town were intimidated. Despite him trying to be friendly, he can't catch himself a friend at all.

That goes for lovers too. Yeah, there are people who are brave. But in the end, they get overwhelmed from his clinginess.

This made him more clingy and possessive.

He just doesn't want them to run away. He's too lonely for such an extroverted man like him. And with so much love (baggage) to give, how can he make somebody stay in such a demanding and overwhelming way?

It's honestly a draining cycle for both him and the lovers he had.

Now, he only hunts fishes and and examine them. If they're edible, he eats them. If it's interesting, he taxidermies them somehow.

Then, while testing a new net system he developed, he catches a mermaid, you.

He's surprised, but got his heart speared when he saw your clear, fearful, yet curious eyes.

You're so pretty that he swore he's in heaven rather than the sea.

For the first time, an aggressive want to make you his filled him inside that it scared even him.

But he doesn't want to scare you. So, rather than being overwhelming immediately, he took his time.

Why not start with fulfilling your thirst for knowledge?

Everyday, he goes back to that specific spot only for you. You always asked him about his boat, about the machinery, about technology that he brought... He filled your head with information that made you so giddy it was adorable in his eyes.

But he can't shake off the feeling of somebody staring at them. It's honestly unsettling. Sure, it may be other merfolks, but you swore that nobody other than you goes here.

It's strange, but he shrugs it off. He's happy to solo you anyways.

What you didn't know is that he's already ordered a large aquarium type habitat on his home. The size of city wide aquariums of sharks, whales, etc. He made sure to put everything that he thinks you will like.

He wants you in his arms.

He wants to jump down to the sea, hug you in such a tight embrace, and devour your salty lips that will probably taste so sweet on his tongue.

You're so sweet, inquisitive, kind, and understanding. Too lovable. And just thinking that other merfolk have interacted with you before and some probably saw you as a potential mate darkens his mood to no end.

He hasn't tried hunting mermaids yet, should he?

Somehow, he's grateful that you're a social outcast. That means he could just solo you like this.

Not until you didn't show up in a meeting, and his heart dropped to the floor.

Hours before the daily meeting.

You plucked some kelp from a nearby kelp farm that you personally oversee. Hungry, you rolled some and continued to find more proper kelp to join in a fish salad.

Hey, some sealife here are the equivalent of meat consumables for humans.

Getting some oysters, you continued to get food for dinner when a light flashed from your peripheral vision.

"Hmm?" Your body swayed as you looked to the side where the light came from.

Putting what you got in your basket, you swam to the trenches again and tried to find where the light came from.

Some fishes got out of your way as you tried to find it once more, before it flashed again.

"Aha! Now, where... Huh?"

The flash came from the deepest part of the trenches.

The cold current got to you again, and you shivered.

It flashed again, enticing you to swim closer.

But you knew not to do it.

The stories of the deep sea merpeople flashed your mind again, and you almost shrieked in fear from the memories.

But the light is so enticing...

"Just a bit..."

You swam down, passing by the corals and the anemones. Your heartrate picked up, feeling the cold current once more.

Then, you noticed how the corals and anemones are thinning out, but you pushed through, telling yourself that it's not that far.

It's really not that far... Right?

The light flashed once more, now a bit bigger.

So, with a burst of energy and the adrenaline, you swam harder, wanting to see what's the flashing light is.

Then, the light went out.

You gasped in fear and astonishment as suddenly, it got so dark.

With nothing around you at all. Not even the trenches' walls kept you company as the vast, dark nothingness filled your vision.

Cold currents on warm waters, water rippling around you as if some kind of entity kept swimming past you, and you swore you saw beady eyes look at you from afar.

Should you go up?

But wait, where is up?

You felt your stomach drop.

Then, the flashing light blinded you, making you yelp and cover your eyes.

Feeling a sense of deja vu, you felt a presence in front of you.

No, around you.

You trembled, not wanting to open your eyes, but you knew you have to face whatever was in front of you.

So you opened your eyes, and almost shrieked once more from the person in front of you.

He's huge. With beady, ghost like eyes and sharp teeth as he unhinges his jaw in such a grotesque way that made you squirm in how uncomfortable it is to look at. His antenna, the one flashing, shone in now a dimly light as he swerves his body around you. Almost coiling his tail on your body.

He's triple your length, maybe quadruple even. And he laughs deeply at your scared face. He had a sick joy flashing his eyes before he tilted his head.

"Upper Dweller, didn't know you would follow my light." His voice, a ghost like quality with such roughness that it's gravelly. "I'm surprised you're still alive with such curiosity inside of you. Tell me, little one, what's your name?"

"Y/N..." You gulped, cowering from his stature as he swam around you once more.

He looked so creepy, yet had this look that's attracting you to him. Is it the antenna? Who knows.

"A name that matches you." He chuckles and you squirm. Was it a good thing or bad?

"My name's Viper. Nice to meet you, Upper Dweller Y/N." He smiles, his jaw now back in its place yet the sharp teeth still shone. "Hmm... Tiny mermaid, so easy to crush..."

He fully coiled his tail around you, and it felt so cold. The scales felt so cold and uncomfortable against your own tail and skin.

"You dwell on the trenches that nobody dares to live due to being the entrance to my lair." He whispers, closing his face against yours. "Did the people not tell you that?"

You felt your blood run colder than usual. Nobody did. Did they send you there knowing a deep sea dweller lives at the bottom?

Suddenly, you felt helpless against his hold as you realized that you got sent to your what's essentially your death.

Viper smiles from your reaction as he kept himself from pulling you down to the abyss completely.

The first time you got to the trenches, Viper was thoroughly surprised. The abandoned trenches suddenly got a resident once more? Who's the stupid mermaid who dares to live on his what's essentially a frontyard?

And he got a good look on you. Despite being of a viperfish specie, his ghost like eyes were useful for him, making him look at your face fully even though the distance is so far.

You. You look so precious, so pure as you swam around above. So small and puny that just one bite from his powerful jaw can crack you open.

But he didn't lure you yet, just observed his prey as you swam around, trying to watch the boats on the surface.

Viper's a lonely man.

Deep sea merfolk are rare, and in this place, it was only him.

So, he never really got the proper education on what to do in social contexts. Not like he had a chance to do so.

The only time he got is when people still reside the trenches up above when he's still a fry. They looked so happy and chatty, friendly and kind.

And he wants to experience it too.

So, he swam up, trying to form relationships, but this only scared the merfolk away from the ghost like appearance of Viper and his sheer size despite being only a fry back then.

And all of them left the trenches.

It broke small Viper's heart, and he steeled them in the years to come.

But now, you moved in.

Fortunately, Viper's in that age that he's finding a mate to be with for life.

And, with how much he observed you, taking in your smiles, curious glances up above, and fearful looks you gave down below, he slowly fell in love with you.

Well, in one way or another.

So, when he saw you talking to this puny human, he knew he had to make his move.

So, he lured you here.

"Little one..." He whispered, nudging your hand open with his sharp claws.

You opened it nervously, and gasped in terror as he gave you a black pearl.

A symbol of wanting to be mates.

"NO!" You screamed in fear as you got the strength to break free and swim with all your might up to the surface.

Viper growled and tried to catch up with you.

"COME HERE!"

You shrieked in terror as his hand is only a smidge away from your tail.

The darkness slowly got lighter, and you were tired from exhaustion but you knew you cannot stop.

Viper was angry. How dare you reject him! A little upper-dweller that he can just crush with one hand yet he graciously let live reject his offer to be his mate?

But the light got too much for him, and he had to hiss and retreat.

"You will be back." He whispered, watching your retreating figure. "I just know it."

Viper remembers the other man, the human, who somehow saw through him one day when he observed the both of you. Viper felt the hostility and bloodlust from him as he looked directly at where Viper is.

Viper swore up and down it's just coincidence, but the way Orion's eyes never left his spot was unsettling. How can Orion even see Viper?

But Viper knew that this man is not an easy opponent.

So he retreats...

And Orion also retreats as he realized you aren't going to be in the meeting place today.

Two men. One up above, and one below.

Both wants you in their arms.

One will offer you the light but in such a restrictive way,

And the other will offer you the darkness filled with uncertainty but within the waters you know and love.

So, who will it be, love?

Time is ticking, little one.

It will not be long until these two go face to face.

And one will not live to see the tale.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yandere boyfriend #yandere male #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

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faded-if · 1 year ago

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DEMO (TBA)

Have you ever had everything you thought you wanted? Everything you could ever dream of just within your grasp? Only to find out it was all built on quicksand?

You were the lead singer in the most popular band to grace the music industry in over a decade-- breaking records, amassing fame and fortune, and launching your career into a height you never believed possible. Everything was going great, better than you could ever hope to imagine, until it wasn't. Until everything started to fall apart. The dreams you had thought you wanted, the life you thought you'd be able to build, began to crumble around you.

So, you did the only thing you thought you could do, you ran. Left the band that you had created within a garage back in high school, and the people that had been with you through it all, behind. Never thought you'd go back, that you'd simply fade into obscurity, but the past has a way of catching up with you. Even after five years of being away, you'll always find your way back home.

Just like you find yourself back in the world you thought you'd left behind for the Legacy Tour-- an event that could right all of the wrongs you had caused.

Will you be able to save what's left of your career, your relationships, and your passion for music? Or will it all simply fade away once more?

Faded is rated 18+ for explicit language, sexual themes, drug/alcohol use, potential violence, morally questionable behavior, and more!

✯ FEATURES ✯

Customizable MC: name, nickname, appearance, gender, hobbies, facets of your personality, various vices, public image, and more!

Delve back into the world of the music industry! Will your MC enjoy being back or secretly long for the simplicity that they have carved out for themself?

Create your own music! Will you share it during the Legacy Tour? Wherein millions could finally hear the true story behind why you departed so swiftly?

Engage in romance with a variety of characters! Some may cause more gossip than others, and be notable for the tabloids, but it's all in the name of love!

Interact with fans, new and old, and discover what they think of your departure. Will you be able to win some of them back?

✯ THE ROs ✯

Hudson Lock ✯ He/Him, 26 ✯ A fan that still remembers when you had met years before; citing that you're the reason he has pursued his passion for photography. His passion, as well as his fervent drive to do better, is something to be commended-- especially when it's focused in the manner it seems to be during the Legacy Tour.

"You've been someone I've looked up to for so long, I hope that I can be someone you can rely on when it counts too."

Noah/Nora Fox ✯ He/Him or She/Her, 28 ✯ Your oldest friend and the person that had helped create the band with you-- the only person that had believed in you during the earlier days. The very same person that can barely look you in the eyes, and has shifted from a happy ray of sunshine to the classic partier that sleeps around. Will you be able to fix what's been broken?

Special Romance: Choose to have simply been best friends with them or have been in a relationship prior to you leaving.

"I hate how much I love you sometimes, I hate that it's still your face that I want to see first thing in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I fucking hate that you destroyed me, yet you still hold all the shattered pieces."

Angelina Thorne ✯ She/Her, 28 ✯ The woman that has taken over for you within the band. With an attitude as fiery as her hair, Angelina isn't one to back down from a challenge, especially if she feels threatened. It'll take a while to break down her walls, but she may just be worth the effort.

"I don't know what bugs me more. The fact that you're here or the fact that I can't fucking stand it when you're not."

Elijah/Elizabeth Knight ✯ He/Him or She/Her, 34 ✯ Your old manager hasn't changed in the slightest; barring that they're no longer married. You don't know how you feel about the news, nor do you wish to comprehend what it could potentially mean, but you do know that nothing would ever happen as long as they kept you at arm's length.

Special Romance: Choose to have had a crush on them, but nothing ever happened because they were married.

"You are, and will always be, my only exception."

Jaime Winters ✯ They/Them, 28 ✯ One of the few people you've let close to you within your new "normal" life. They're not the most talkative person, which you can appreciate, but they always make sure you know that they're listening, and they can brighten any room with a signature smile of theirs. Plus, when they do get comfortable their teasing quips and sly remarks can lighten the mood if needed.

"You're still you. You'll never be anyone else to me. I don't care how famous you are."

Harry/Harley Sharpe ✯ He/Him or She/Her, 29 ✯ A security officer that's been placed to protect you, and the band as a whole, during the duration of the Legacy Tour. They seem to be overall a gentle individual, surprising given their career choice, but their drive to protect and serve creates quite an intimidating presence for anyone wishing to cause you harm. Will you be able to resist their gentle eyes and understanding nature?

"I don't know why this happened, or if it's smart that it's continuing to happen, but I can't stop. I don't know if I'd even want to if I could."

#faded #interactive novel #interactive fiction #if wip #interact if #no demo #choice of games #hosted games #dashingdon

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punkeropercyjackson · 7 months ago

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Ultimately the reason Percabeth is such horrifically bad ship yet gets praised so much is that while Percy and Annabeth canonically love eachother,they also canonically don't like eachother LMAO.Percy's constantly wishing Annabeth was extremely different than who she actually is because he finds her unbearable and hard to be around and finds escapism in being around people who're unlike her with the biggest example being him having been in love with Rachel before they settled into still close exes

There's also his friendships with the Grace Sibs,Thalia had infinitely better progress with him in TTC than Annabeth has in the entire saga and he admires her a lot more too and it's a running theme that Jason is Annabeth's opposite and Percy became instant best friends with him upon first meeting and all three of their first meetings are more charming and unique than Percy saying his type is princess-y girls in his narration but Annabeth hating being seen as one because she's gnc and 'You drool when you sleep'.I also think if anybody is Percy's cosmically intertwined soulmate it's not any s/os but Nico and Hazel and by that i mean in a found siblings with him also being their pseudo-parent way.All their dynamics are interesting and richen their characters and they're from different time periods which only adds to how special their bond is

And on Annabeth's end.......She kinda straight up hates his existense.She's always talking about how stupid he is and that he's useless without her and i get that Rick tried to sell it as affectionate teasing but she's angered by it so often it's obvious it's just Rick being a cishet nt white old man.She gets angered by finding him attractive too?????This trope can be good but Percy never actually does anything,he's literally just existing and that includes not actively pursuing her back since he dosen't want her even half as much as she thinks she wants him.It's rare compared to her mean-spirited comments he explicitly never consented to and finds unnecessary and one of the many thing's he wishes she wasn't and he never returns her physical assaults so 'they're demigods and it's normal!' excuse dosen't add up

Yeah,they're dating in canon and gonna get married.Percy's also gonna not only go to college but a demigod college when again and again and AGAIN he says he dosen't want to be a half-blood and he's only going so he can live out a traditional lifestyle with Annabeth so so much for 'his thether to his mortal side' i guess.Annabeth never got any shit from Poseidon like Percy did Athena or terrorizing like Aphrodite does everybody else she talks to and Percy was forced to narratively forgive Luke,again,only because of Annabeth when he groomed him for a bit and abused him tons too and it's so vile to gaslight us into thinking Luke was anything but a serial pedophile and beyond far right to Percy's lifelong outcasthood and anarchy and Annabeth as a direct victim of his sick sexual 'interests' in plausible deniability font due to being a pg series.Percabeth is the peak cishet romance norms taken up to 12 like the Olympians and it's embarrasingly obvious nobody saying they're t4t has ever been in a transmasc4transfem relathionship

That's why this moment is so fucking depressing.She knows him and she dosen't like any of what he is and he dosen't say it outloud because he's scared of the truth,that he ended up with the wrong person,that he fucked up again and she's hollower whenever she's around him because she exists FOR him and for almost nothing else.They weren't eachother's choice,they were eachother's destiny decided by everyone but themselves.This fucks up my autistic ass so much man,no wonder i only ever liked that lesbian!Percabeth au with transfemme Percy and butch Annabeth that was popular when i was a kid,that's deadass the only way you can make it work,they'd need an entire rehaul but at this point i don't care to try because the shippers don't deserve it after how demonic they've been since the 2000s.Percabeth was never a good ship,you were just a tween

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teddywesworl · 4 months ago

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ok y'all said you want director's commentary so I'm gonna start by saying a couple things about 🪑 since it recently celebrated 2k kudos

🪑DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY LET'S GO

A fun fact about the poems at the beginning of each chapter is that I took two of the poet's classes in college, and she might be solely responsible for convincing me I was a good writer and should pursue the skill. I don't know how she'd feel about me using her poetry to thematically frame an explicit fanfic, but that's neither here nor there.

As a poet, she (I'm not naming her here in case she might possibly name search on tumblr, lol) is obsessed with transformation and with the discord between the material and spiritual self. Blackberries, Brambles in its entirety goes as follows:

Akhmatova wrote, "O look!—that fresh dark elderberry branch is like a letter from Marina…" And she was right, branches criss- cross, words sharpen. We lop them down, fit them into envelopes. But I forget: you don't do letters: Too much tangled in thickets and desperation. Did I say envelopes? I meant elevators. See, I've snagged favourite sweaters in high rises, snarled hair in hedges, given up skin scrapings for blackberries, tongueburst, the sweet stain, explosion under light canine pressure. Don't you just wish you were a dog sometimes? No panic. Romping through brambles. Even in delirium, near death, Akhmatova remembered. Her bitter friend had been dead a long time. Love. Don't think I'm thinking about you. Anything but you.

Akhmatova here being Russian poet Anna Akhmatova, and the Marina in question is Marina Tsvetaeva. You can go on as much or as little of a research spiral about them as you like; many of the layers of this poem are in the reference to Akhmatova and Tsvetaeva, but I was mostly interested in the commentary on the cost of pleasure. I've snagged favourite sweaters in high rises, snarled hair in hedges, given up skin scrapings for blackberries. What are you willing to pay for happiness? Wouldn't it be nice not to think about it? Wouldn't it be nice not to be afraid to pay?

Obviously the other major literary framing device is A Room With A View. The movie, specifically, but obviously the Forster novel as well. A Room With A View is about the clash between tradition and modernity, familial duty vs. adventure and romance, etc. etc. etc. And like, listen, the Duffers have not put this much thought into Steve Harrington, but his arc, despite them, is that of the ultimate privileged 80s all-American masculine symbol taking a slow, deliberate turn toward Otherness. He was supposed to die a static character. He did not, and now we're all writing fic about it.

I probably didn't need to have Eddie literally whack the point home with a hammer with the you're Lucy line in chapter 2, but here we are.

The other bits of ~Art~ in the Steve chapter are Elton John's The Fox and Bruce Springsteen's The River. As follows:

But if you’re wily, you will leave them lying, snared up in the traps that they set for you, Elton sings. And it’s an evergreen affair— Steve lifts the record out and replaces it with The River. Springsteen sings, you're walkin' tough, baby, but you're walkin' blind and that’s not really better.

The Elton John record, you may recall, was a compromise between Eddie and Nancy. The inclusion of these lines in particular was very vibes-based, but hopefully the vibes are semi-coherent. Snares. Traps. The hunter, the fox. Btw the next lines after these are:

As temptation taunts the fox Into the hunter's waiting lair

Which, okay. Teasing out the vibes just a little. Argyle interprets Nancy as Lucy (and implies, without meaning to, that Steve is Cecil--a character that represents old money and tradition and duty and, like. Being trapped). Nancy would probably also view herself as the titular Fox. And Steve has bought into this line of thinking! He sees himself as the snare! He has internalized the idea of life with him being a trap! He is Bullshit, etc.

Eddie complicates this self-concept. Through him, Steve becomes the Fox and Lucy. Temptation taunts the fox into the hunter's waiting lair, after all. And, you know: 🪑🪢

(The Springsteen lines are just. All Steve.)

Ok I have to go feed some horses. More.... later. eventually.

#my fic #director's commentary

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wen-kexing-apologist · 10 months ago

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Ships: every SCOY pair

I see you, villain, I see what you are doing and it is not going to work. I will not rewatch SCOY.

I love this show for what it says, I love getting a chance to see all the “undesirables” getting romance, and not just getting romance, but being actively pursued in those relationships. Never know what you’re gonna get out of Cheewin, but I am forever grateful to him for this show.

So, without further ado, here is what I think about every SCOY pair.

Toh and Nuea

[by the way, I wrote this and then saw @ginnymoonbeams response, so please note I did not copy her, that just how Toh and Nuea are, and I thought the similarities in our responses were too funny to change how I wrote about them]

You’ve heard of bi4bi, you’ve heard of t4t, but you know what I don’t think we ever get enough of? Freak4freak.

Part of the reason I do desperately owe this show a rewatch is because I fully skipped through a lot of the first couple episodes because I was extremely uncomfortable with Toh’s obsession with Nuea and how he was collecting things from him. But, now I love my little fucking freak, and love Toh and Nuea even more knowing that Neua a) knew that Toh was stalking him from the jump and b) was Here For It!

So I want to go back and watch it from the beginning, without skipping through those parts this time. Billy and Seng have great chemistry, once we actually get to them in a relationship I feel like Toh and Neua make sense together, and I believe their attraction to each other 100%. I love how horny they both are for each other all the time, and how much they want to just be making out in the car instead of actually participating in necessary life tasks, like going to school. I swear to God I have never seen a character with such visceral stars in his eyes as Toh has when he looks at Nuea. Nuea and Toh are so obsessively in love it makes me homophobic, and I wish them many more happy years of collecting Nuea’s straw wrappers and recycled soda cans.

Also, I love that they are verse.

Also also, and I am so sorry but I do just have to say that the first thing that always pops in to my head when I think about Toh and Nuea is how fucking sweaty Toh is all the time. Billy and Seng worked well together, they are phenomenal actors, but dear lord did it pull me out of a scene sometimes seeing Toh just absolutely drenched.

Sky and Khaojao

This is how you do blushing maiden. I have never been in a romantic or sexual relationship with anyone before, and I will attribute some part of that to uncertainty and anxiety. There is some part of me that really believes that I too would struggle with initial physical advances, and so I love every single character that both reacts to their own anxieties around intimacy while at the same time being brave enough to push past it. I love the scene where Jao pulls away like he’s timid and shy about making out or having sex with Sky, and Sky puts a stop to the action, only for Jao to be like “you don’t have to stop”. Incredible. Phenomenal. Show stopping.

I love watching Jao’s self confidence and security blossom throughout the show as he started letting himself believe Sky wanted him and loved him. They are so great together, I love how much of a unrepentant fool Sky is for his boyfriend. I want Sky and Jao to be fucking all the time so I can systematically steal all of Sky’s shirts while he is otherwise occupied.

And I seriously don’t know what they are putting in the water at Idol Factory but again, Heng and Surprise had incredible chemistry. Such good chemistry in fact that I despite knowing they wouldn’t actually do it, I would Not Be Mad if Dr. Chalothorn met a certain handsome technical specialist while working with the detective force…all I’m saying is another show with a HengSurprise match up? I would like to see it.

That said, I think my biggest difficulty with their plotline is that Secret Crush on You is about how all the people that are normally sides in these shows, the neurodivergent freaks, the trans kids, the fat kids, etc. are also attractive, worthy, and deserving of love but Jao isn’t fat. And it’s a hard thing for me because I love Surprise, I loved Surprise in that role, I don’t think I would have wanted another actor in there, or that the chemistry would have been the same. But I wish Jao had been fatter.

Intouch and Daisy

Shan, I am being so incredibly serious when I say Intouch and Daisy mean everything to me.

I will never ever be over these two. I wish, I wish with my whole entire being that we had had a bit more time with them. I don’t need a whole show. But Daisy is such a beloved character, she is oh so very dear to me, and with the emotional rollercoaster Daisy went on over the course of this show, she really deserves some dedicated time to be loved. I’ve said before one of the things I love about Thai BL is how frequently you have non-cis people just living life, vibing, existing etc and how that feels revolutionary. But despite how frequently I see non-cis people in Thai BL, I feel like we are still severely lacking in ~Gender~ romance. We have Yok in Only Friends, we have Mae in 3 Will Be Free, Molly in The Warp Effect, Ah Jain in About Youth and that’s pretty much it.

Every moment Daisy and Intouch were on screen together, there was instant joy, and to this day, almost a year after I watched that show for the first time, I still get fleeting thoughts about the translator’s note that said (paraphrasing here) “wish there was a way to explain how Touch’s way of speaking is so respectful to Daisy’s identity”. Like?????? That’s poetry to me.

They are a gorgeous little couple and I love them dearly.

Kongkwan and Fon

Becky and Freen have incredibly tangible chemistry that makes it so easy to read these two as girlfriends immediately. We got like thirty seconds of them but within that time frame we did at least get sexually suggestive jokes, and an obvious and confirmed relationship between them. To that I say let’s go lesbians!

Send Me a Ship and I’ll Share My Thoughts

#ask game #what i think of ships #secret crush on you #scoy #toh x nuea #nuea x toh #billyseng #sky x khaojao #sky x jao #hengsurprise #intouch x daisy #kongkwan x fon #freenbecky

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makedonsgriva · 4 days ago

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Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know : A Review

So I generally don't do reviews. But going through the tumblr tag and then on AO3 and seeing the abysmal amount of posts and fanfics, I am writing this review in hopes of someone reading this and then getting convinced by my agenda.

Because Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know deserves to be read by yall.

IT. IS. SO. GOOD.

To summarize, we start with the leader of the demonic Xuanyuan Sect, Wenren E, getting a copy of a trashy romance novel, Abusive Romance.

What baffles him is that he, a logical, rational person who has never felt love in his life, is the second lead and falls in love with the Mary Sue female lead and gives up everything for her and dies in the end for her too.

What makes him even more confused that after he dies in the novel, his loyal subordinate Yin Hanjiang is driven to madness and is hell bent on revenge, pursuing the female lead to kill her.

Wenren E decides that this cannot be allowed. He is not afraid of death, (although he does mind that it was for a stupid reason and not on his own terms) but he very much minds the fact that his subordinate went insane after it. So he sets out to re write destiny.

Now let's talk about the highlights of this book

The Characters

DVAWTK is full of interesting, fun and exciting characters who will remain etched in your memory. Whether it is the sensuous, ruthless and ambitious Shu Yanyan or the wise, perceptive and kind Zhongli Qian, there is a multitude of characters to pick from to love and adore and all of them have deeper and hidden depths that give them layers of complexities.

Not to mention, DVAWTK has several strong and amazing female characters. I have mostly read MXTX books and this is where she lacks the most: hardly any strong female characters. She writes shockingly amazing characters but most of them are male and I mostly don't mind but I do wish I got some great girls to cherish in there too.

Cyan Wings does not disappoint in that aspect. All their female characters are wonderfully well fleshed out. Especially Baili Qingmiao. Seeing her go from the biggest girlfailure to an absolute girlboss over 70 something chapters is satisfying in a sense the way, and I quote the book here, "one feels about their first daughter finally grow up" Chef's kiss truly.

The Plot

The plot is engaging but nothing too crazy, if I am being honest. Apart from a couple of reveals and plot twists that were shocking, it mostly stuck to a more or less predictible story line. That does not mean it was not good; it was. Most of the arcs keep you engaged enough to keep reading without being able to put the story down and tie into each other seamlessly. As such, there are no plot holes and stupid or unnecessary story lines. It works very well to support the characters and their personal growth and arcs.

The Humour

Top notch. So well done. Got me laughing out loud multiple times and earned me a lot of weird looks from my roommate but all worth it. SVSSS was the funniest work I read but DVAWTK gives it a run for its money in terms of the comedy it has and also it's general unhinged-ness, mostly thanks to it's characters. Everyone at the Demonic Xuanyuan Sect is a goofball although they are not trying to be. The skeleton lady Qiu Congxue has no brains. Literally. A ghost ate it so you can guess just how well she is faring in the books.

(she still is immensely powerful tho)

The Romance

So far the biggest freaks I had found while reading Danmei are Mo Ran and Luo Binghe.

Yin Hanjiang is a hundred times worse.

He is an absolute psycho, a complete nutter, powerful beyond comprehension and hopelessly devoted to Wenren E. And Wenren E, once realising his own feelings, thinks it is all so hot!! (makes you really wonder just who is more insane among the two)

My subordinate wants to destroy the entire cultivation world after my death? He has my full support that's so cute of him <3

Freak4freak with some very beautiful and tender moments and an absolute badass power couple who kick ass together in battles. Truly amazing. I love love love wenrenjiang.

The World building

Wonderfully well done and also easy to follow! I especially liked how cultivation was viewed from a different light in this novel and how the book explores the ways it is actually harmful to mortals. I actually learnt a lot about various cultivation stages from this novel and came to understand some common aspects of xianxia novels. DVAWTK uses many technical terms in terms of cultivation and it is fun to read and learn about it

Found Family

Need I say more? Like what's better than a bunch of idiots coming together and growing on their journey thanks to each other? *gently holds Su Huai, Baili Qingmiao, Qiu Congxue and Zhongli Qian in my palms* they are so important to me

Final Thoughts

DVAWTK is a great read with a very satisfying ending. It keeps you hooked till the very end and I am honestly surprised it is so underrated. I am very glad it is getting an official translation soon so hopefully, it will amass more readers although the unofficial translation I read is also very good. It deserves way more hype and fans then it has because it's so silly, so good and so well done. Ugh I hope it also gets some kind of adaptation some day to make it more popular because it deserves it all.

Please read this novel. That's what I want to say. You will not be disappointed.

#devil venerable also wants to know #book review #danmei #cyan wings #wenren e #yin hanjiang #wenrenjiang #dvawtk #danmei review #danmei recs #xianxia #this review is spoiler free

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ghostboneswrites2 · 5 months ago

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What is your opinion on Bethyl?

I actually have a lot of opinions (and I’m honored you think they’ll be interesting enough to ask about them) so I must apologize for the length.

First and foremost I don’t support relationships where the age gap is unethical or illegal or relationships where an age gap would lead to an unhealthy power dynamic. So as a whole I’m not a Bethyler.

HOWEVER at one point I was a Bethler, at age 15-16. I was actively being groomed by a grown man so at the time I had the whole “age is just a number” mindset. As I’ve grown and recognized the situation I was in I grew to recognize the fact that Beth was simply too young.

Norman has said something along the lines of Beth being the first girl that was every really nice to him the way Beth was, and that Daryl kind of misreads the situation. I’m sure there would have been some emotional confusion between the two of them — with Daryl’s lack of experience in the romance department (or being emotionally intelligent in general) and Beth’s boyfriends dying — but I don’t believe Daryl would have felt comfortable being romantically involved with such a young girl. And even if Beth did think he was attractive or something I don’t think she would have been interested in a man so much older either.

I think he cared deeply for her, and I think he wanted to protect her and give her everything she wanted, but I don’t believe he would have pursued anything past a close friendship/ big brother dynamic with her.

I can see where the Bethylers get their fuel from but I personally don’t think either of them would have realistically become romantic with each other.

I do think she did a lovely job at getting him to actually feel and process his emotions. She was literally a ray of sunshine in a rotten world and she’s one of my top 3 fav characters in the whole TWD universe. I think she along with other characters that we lost were representative of a side of humanity they were trying to preserve through the entire series. I hate that grieving such a lovely person was what it took for Daryl to feel in touch with his feelings.

I would have loved to see her with Noah or someone else and to have seen what kind of person she would have become. I wish Judith could have known her or that she could have met her nephew.

As far as Daryl and shipping goes I’m a huge fan of both Donnie and Caryl. But, to answer your question again, I’m not a Bethyler. I think it would have been inappropriate given her age and life experiences.

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #answered asks #beth greene #bethyl

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anhed-nia · 6 months ago

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I was delighted to learn that there was a crazy-girl Black Swan movie from before BLACK SWAN, and disappointed that it's exactly as mysogynistic, just in a much dumber way. We're all familiar with the John Hughes model of romance, in which girls who reject you just want you to be increasingly persistent and controlling--but there's a sort of kid brother to this framework, that says that when women reject you it's actually because they're literally fucking insane, and they need your help with that. In the movie ETOILE aka BALLET, Jennifer Connelly aka the most beautiful woman in the universe plays a ballerina whose psychotic obsession with Swan Lake interferes with her non-relationship with some little dweeb who decides he's entitled to her. The guy looks and kind of acts like the wormy new wave guy Chuck in RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD (fig. 1), but in ROTLD that used car salesman suit is a joke so I don't know what the makers of ETOILE think I'm supposed to feel when I look at this asshole (fig. 2). Something positive, apparently. It's funny, in my life I live firmly in the Ugly Girl camp and I have all the usual neuroses about it, but certain situations unlock this protectiveness about beautiful women--case in point, watching this jerk kiss Jennifer Connelly. I mean if he were like Bud Cort or someone with that Funny Valentine quality, who is warm and charming, then it would be fine, but with this low-end cretin it's really like...sir, please back away from Jennifer Connelly. This is not for you.

In this movie Jennifer Connelly is frankly way too good for this guy, and if this were real life, it would make perfect sense that she's polite to him and then gives him the brush-off when he pushes his luck; but of course, in the fantasy world of this movie, the reason she rejects him is that she's fucking possessed or something and she's just waiting for him to rescue her from her feminine irrationality. This is extra funny because the script itself directly references the myth of Apollo and Daphne which is like the original version of this: Daphne just wants to be left alone, but Apollo assumes his advances are desirable no matter what she has to say about it; to get away from him she transforms into a tree, and he's so sad about it that he desecrates her corpse weaves a wreath from her leaves. This is really the ultimate reflection of a man refusing to believe that a particular hot chick really, genuinely doesn't want him, but ETOILE isn't capable of figuring out that subtext, so the guy just forces himself on Jennifer Connelly until she isn't "crazy" anymore. Bonus points for the scene where he repeatedly screams at her to stop dancing, because there's really no bigger threat to romance than a woman's career and personal interests.

I wish I could think of more examples of this trope, I know they're out there, and I did just see another one called FEMME FATALE where Lisa Zane marries Colin Firth and then "mysteriously" leaves him, so he has to go on this whole odyssey to retrieve her. This is a particularly funny example because Firth is mopey and boring and untalented and a bad listener and out of shape and a drag, and Zane is this turbulent sexpot who is making it really obvious that she's not satisfied with him right up to the point that she "strangely" vanishes. Spoilers ahead I guess but the first thing Firth finds out is that she was in some psychotic art film by a militant lesbian who she used to date...and still the spurned husband thinks, nah, it CAN'T be that I'm boring and sappy and self-centered and I ignore her needs, and it ALSO CAN'T be that maybe she secretly prefers girls or is, at the very least, way more sexually exotic than I am. There has to be some OTHER reason I got dumped, something that involves me pursuing this uninterested woman to the ends of the earth and forcing her to admit that she loves only me, forever. And the movie totally agrees with him: There's no moment where Colin Firth realizes that he misread all the evidence, or even that she's EVIL or just not who he thought she was or whatever. Instead what he finds out is that she's literally insane! She's a paranoid schizophrenic whose only valid choices of companion are her dad or, you guessed it, Colin Firth. When I saw this I thought wow, this movie has gone impossibly far out of its way to explain that when a woman rejects you, it's not because you're a dullard and a jerk, it's because she's dangerously crazy. Only an actual lunatic would turn down a catch like YOU.

Anyway I know I was just talking about not being pointlessly mean about movies in public, but all bets are off if the movie manages to say something this insulting. I am now done talking about this and I will leave you with this hilarious thumbnail from a YouTube clip of FEMME FATALE, which pretty well sums up the whole movie.

#not blogtober

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bengiyo · 1 year ago

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Hidden Agenda: Zo Experienced The Knowing

I was tagged by @respectthepetty this morning in her post about Zo and how much damage Puen did to him. At the end of the post she mentioned that Zo probably Knew who he was this whole time. I want to talk about the timing of this reveal, what it means for this kind of show, and how I feel about it.

I have admittedly been struggling with this show. I think Dunk is often a little hard for me to read, and I often wish that he hadn’t been given such an internal character to play. However, I think the team may be using that to their advantage to cloud our ability to read Zo.

Zo began the series in a debate with Joke about how people need to be honest about their feelings before going into a relationship with someone, and he’s been nervous to approach Nita. We’ve also seen him showing dismay about possibly being a bad mentor to Pok, along with his general reticence to Joke’s advances. I think I’ve decided that I’m okay with the show recontextualizing much of what we’ve seen before, but I don’t generally like it. Sure, it rewards those who pay close attention, but there’s too much going on for me to do an extensive rewatch to see those scenes again in a new light. However, I like it for queer reasons.

What fascinates me about our sudden reread of Zo as a Known Gay (placeholder term I use for everyone; Zo hasn’t identified himself; let me have fun) is we watched Zo go through this during their Chiang Khan trip when he realized Pok was seeing Jeng. At that time I only read Zo as concerned with being read as homophobic by his junior who couldn’t come out to him, but now it’s even sadder because Zo was not only concerned about being seen as homophobic he was also not being seen as a member of the community.

The constant concern he expresses is that he’ll make people uncomfortable. He’s afraid to approach Nita, and has a huge panic when a not-date doesn’t exactly go over well with her. I thought this was part of his confused feelings for Joke, but it’s also about how Zo doesn’t trust himself in romance because of what Puen did. I feel especially sad for Zo because Puen messed him up so badly that he can’t even pursue an opposite-sex romance with confidence either. I felt like a part of Zo hoped that things would be easier if there wasn’t a gay component to the romance and yet he’s still feeling weird and uncertain.

As for whether Zo suffered The Knowing, I am not sure how far back Zo Knew. I can’t tell from his interactions with his mom, but it’s clear from his scenes with Puen and the matter-of-fact way he describes what happened to Joke that he had put a lot of thought into his feelings for Puen at the time. So, because of the way Puen’s actions continue to impact Zo, he goes on the board.

I'm at least relieved that as @justafriend-ql pointed out in her reblog that confirming that Puen did like him, and it wasn't all in Zo's head, allowed him to finally enjoy a moment with a guy he likes and who clearly likes him.

#hidden agenda #hidden agenda meta #thai bl #bl series

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slocumjoe · 1 year ago

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Something I wish they did in fo4 is recognize when you’re cheating on a romanced character… I have a few ideas but I’m curious how you think this should play out in game

This is actually a pervasive...I don't want to call it an issue...roadblock, maybe? In games with romances. Seems like no one knows how to handle this.

Verilybitchie on YouTube has a great video called "bisexuality in video games" that goes into this, so if you don't want to read this, just go put that on in the background.

Also sorry this isn't a react, but I've always had Thoughts on this

So, since this is a Fallout blog, we're talking Fallout first.

In Fo4, you can romance every single companion in the game. Well, the romancable ones (sorry, Nick harem). The only requirement to romance someone is raise their affinity through actions or natural, slow-building of the stat (affinity will slowly raise itself over time), and then you select and succeed at the final romance dice roll. Sometimes there is a quest.

Already we have an issue, because there is no feasible way to logically date all these people. It isn't a numbers issue; it's the fact that most of them hate each other. If you're (you as the sole survivor) can romance and make Hancock swoon for you, its not likely you're the type that can reel Danse. You can't be the kind of person who Preston would fall for, while also pulling Gage. That kind of thing. It isn't that no one would be down to be poly, its that most of them have so few of the others that they'd be poly with. Again, Gage is not sharing with fucking Preston, and he sure as hell isn't falling for someone who Preston can love.

It's just so players can see all the romances, I think, but it's never...it's ludodissonance, I think. At most, a romanced character will hate it if you flirt with someone else in their presence, but I don't believe it'll amount to anything.

So, what would that amount to, IRL? Everyone would be pissed! Their partner has a secret harem that doesn't know its a harem! That's an awful thing to feel. But if Sole sat them all down and explained they wanted all of them at once...still wouldn't work. I don't think any of them would really be comfortable with poly, and all of them have at least one person would they wouldn't want to be poly with. For most of them, that person is Danse. Which is very funny to me.

The thing is, Fallout 4 is a huge game, and making a game is. Fucking Difficult. It is a nightmare. And you'd have to program in all of the different combinations of reactions. That's potentially 144 conversations, if you think about every companion reacting to you being with another companion. Then you have the potential of a companion reacting to you being with two other companions. Three. The number gets insane. And Fallout 4 is humoring us with the socializing/dialog as is, so that's obviously not happening.

In Dragon Age Inquisition, you can flirt with everyone, pretty sure, regardless of romance status. If I remember correctly. But if you romance someone, than try to pursue a romance with someone else, person 2 will waggle their finger at you like nuh-uh-uh, you very naughty boy! Even when it doesn't make much sense for them.

The Iron Bull, for example, i think would be down for a poly relationship. Sera, maybe, I could see that too. Josephine is a manager, so I can see her liking the idea of delegating her love life to an outside contractor when she doesn't have the time. There are romances, here, that could have multiple people. But DAI says no, you can't. But it gets real loosey goosey with what is and isn't cheating.

So, I played that game as a dude, and obviously I went straight for Cassandra, my buff book nerd warrior princess darling. I flirted with no one else. No one. I romanced her and her alone.

BUT.

For those not in the know, Dorian is a character in DAI. His thing is that he's gay from a homophobic country, and his dad tried to conversion therapy him via magic. You go take him to meet his dad, since he showed up looking for Dorian. Dorian spells it out for you that he's gay, since while its kind of obvious, he keeps it hush due to. Well. His experiences.

You have the option to tell Dorian you've been with the same gender yourself. It's marked as flirty if you're a guy, not sure if its the same as a woman. But for a male character, this is flirting with Dorian.

Later, when you talk to Dorian back at home base, you have some options to comfort him, because obviously he's kind of upset. One of these options, I knew to be saying you actually think better of him, and think he's been very brave. I picked this the first playthrough, because I felt it was more genuine and kind.

Second playthrough, I also picked the "I'm gay too" option from earlier.

When I picked the "I think better of you option" back at base...

I'd flirted only with Cassandra. I was dating her.

And my guy and Dorian started sucking face in the corner of a library.

NEVER FLIRTED WITH HIM BEFORE. All I did was say I was also gay, and then I said I thought he was strong for going through the shit he did. Thing is, you can romance Dorian immediately following the end of that quest. So, I tested something. We just made out for like, five minutes. Wanna date? "Aren't you with Cassandra?"

So, the issue here with DAI is that it doesn't always account for...oddities. For example, The Iron Bull will flirt with you hardcore if you flirt with him, but you try to pursue him while in a relationship, he won't. He'll tell you you have great tits and that he likes being pegged, all while making suggestive faces, but the moment those birds come to roost, he's out. What? Why not? Josephine would totally be down to clown with two beefy Qunari men, Bull would be down to clown with Josie! Why is this here???

Again. Games are really hard to program. And that's after you've written all the actual story.

For DAI, I can think of three romances that would be down for poly. So, you don't have much to do there. But there's still other things you need to account for. You can't acknowledge one thing, and ignore the others. If I threesome with Sera and Josie, what happens if I try throwing Bull into the mix? What happens if I break up with Sera? What happens if we ditch Josie, and add Bull, when Sera is a lesbian? Get the issue? Relationships are fucking complicated. Especially when you're the asshole having to puppeteer them in every possible direction, in the name of player freedom.

In the other direction, we have Stardew Valley. I compare it to a child's xylophone toy with utmost affection, its very plinky-plonky in nature.

SDV works on a heart system. 8 hearts with a bachelor or bachelorette, you can offer them a bouquet and start dating. At 10 hearts, you can propose and get married.

If you marry someone, you can date as many other people as you like. You might get a cutscene where your spouse is jealous that you're giving someone else presents, but they don't actually acknowledge that you have a side piece or two. And this jealous cutscene only plays with...a side piece of the same gender as the spouse. So, the character Shane doesn't care if you and Emily had sex in the woods, but God Forbid you give Elliot a duck feather.

HOWEVER. If you reach 10 hearts with all romance options of one gender (meaning you reach 10 with all of the boys, or 10 with all the girls), you get a cutscene where all of the boys or girls confront you with your cheating, and they're all pissed at you for, like, a week in game.

HOWEVER HOWEVER, you can skip this by carrying a lucky rabbit's foot in your inventory. If you have the foot, the cutscenes just play as you hanging out. So, the boys, rather than confronting you, just have a friendly game of pool, and the girls will just chat, I think. So, the only real acknowledgement that you have multiple partners can be skipped.

On the flip side, there's Skyrim. There is no flirting in skyrim, at all. You wear a necklace, and if the person is available, they'll comment on the necklace. You get married, and then you can never divorce your spouse, or get a new one. It's the game equivalent to church kids getting married right out of high school and sticking with it.

The only game I've ever seen handle this, and handle it well, is Hades.

Hades Supergiant my beloved.

In Hades, you play as Zagreus, the son of Hades trying to escape the underworld, because Hades got full custody in the divorce and Zag wants to see his mom on weekends. I kid but that's literally the plot.

Zagreus used to be dating the fury, Megaera, who also works for Hades as an enforcer and guard. She kills Zagreus in his escape attempts. Their relationship ended poorly, and its heavily implied to be because of Zagreus being a shithead to her. She's pissed at Zag, but with enough time and Zag making amends and apologizing, she is more than willing to be friends again.

Then we have Thanatos, the god of Death. He's always busy, and you never hear of him until a certain point in the game. It takes a long time for him to show himself. When he does, it's with a ringing bell, and the area turns green with his presence. He and Zag have a much more complicated relationship, as they've both carried a flame for each other, and never acted on it. Thanatos will appear to help Zag kill enemies before he starts showing at the hub world.

Finally, we have Dusa. Dusa is a floating gorgon head. You know Medusa? Cut off her head. That is Dusa, as her own entity. She's the shy, skittish, workaholic maid for the house of Hades (the hubworld) and has an obvious crush on Zagreus, day one. Whenever you talk to her, heart effects appear, and she quickly flees. She's attracted to Zag, but she's so skittish, building a relationship with her is more like trying to make a stray cat accept pets and treats. She's down, but she needs to get comfy around Zag, not feel so shy.

You can romance all three of these people! If you romance Thanatos and Meg, they'll show up in your bedroom, and you have a brief conversation about how this relationship will work, and if you're down, all three of you hook up. Then, for the rest of the game, you have a boyfriend and girlfriend! As for Dusa, they know about her, too, and she knows about them. Dusa just can't or doesn't want to have sex, so she's more of Zagreus's platonic partner. It's hard to explain. They don't have sex because Dusa isn't into it. It's very cute and sweet.

But the point is, Than, Meg, and Dusa will get together and figure out what they want, then approach Zagreus and see what he wants, and they all work it out from there. This is possible because there are so few romance options, and the writers accounted for people wanting all three. That's actually the intended path! But either way, Supergiant considered how romance would work and function in the setting they built, and how their characters would react and adapt.

Since they were working with a small number of characters, they could easily slot in different paths and choices. You can turn down Than, Meg, and Dusa. Turn down two of them. Accept all of them! And by having characters that like each other, you don't have to worry about Person B looking at Person C and gagging at the idea of sharing Person A.

The problem with romances in video games is that, if the game isn't, specifically, about the romances, you're not going to get a fully-realized experience. Hades has two gameplay modes; the escape attempts with the combat, and the visual novel side of the game with the developing relationships with all of the characters, romances or not. Hades very much puts both things in the spotlight—and it gets away with it, because Zagreus is a fully-realized character, who is not customizable and has no player input. Zagrues decides things on his own, not because a player pushed a button to accept a quest. You don't get to puppet him around. You get very few choices in dialogue with Zagreus.

Most games with romances, you play as a customizable character, who can be anyone, and do anything. The game devs have to account for that. To account for that, everything has to be squishy, and maliable, and that means that nothing really...matters. It can't! If you put too much importance on something, but the player has x amount of freedom, there's a chance they could miss it, or break it, or do something to render it moot. In Mass Effect 2, I believe, you have the choice to save the space government. If you let them gov die, in the next game, the new government is just...the old one in different suits. Letting the gov die is a big fucking deal, but because you made it a choice, you can't expend too much time and effort on realizing the consequences. Because you also need the timeline where the gov was saved. Why would you put so much time into an optional thing, when its possible most players will choose to do the intended path of saving the space gov?

Well, its the same for romances. Why put so much time into paths and consequences that some people won't see? Why would you write discussions of Sera wondering why you thought she'd have sex with Bull, a man, when most people aren't going to do that? Why would you write 144+ reactions to you cheating on all of the fallout 4 companions?

Writing is both very easy, and very hard. Getting ideas is easy. Working out the kinks in those ideas is hard as shit. Add a deadline, a budget, and lots of investors waiting expectantly, and lots of shit gets chucked on the cutting room floor.

#fallout 4 #fo4

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celiaelise · 9 months ago

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So I am watching "Doctor Elise", (yes, mostly bc she has my name :p) an anime with a convoluted reincarnation/time travel premise which results in the main character as an 18th(???) century noblewoman in psuedo-Europe, with all the knowledge of a well-renowned 21st century Japanese surgeon. When she gets back to her "original" life, (Elise, from "Britia") she is determined to right all the wrongs she committed by being a spoiled rich teenager the first time around, AND to help as many people as possible by becoming a doctor in this lifetime, too.

This is an issue because the emperor, who appears to be a close family friend, REALLY wants her to marry his son instead of pursuing medicine. Also, she has to scramble for explanations for why she has medical knowledge and understanding that should be impossible for her.

And this is one of those times where you can really feel that this Western-adjacent setting is being written by people from another culture. (This also happened when I was watching "Emma: a Victorian Romance", and someone reassured a small child, "don't worry, the Grim Reaper isn't coming to get you; he isn't real! 😊" Like, death? Death isn't real and isn't coming for this child? He's an immortal child?? Anyway...) Because, to me, a westerner, there is such an obvious and correct answer!!!

Say it was God. These guys are absolutely neck-deep in Christianity, say it was God. Say God spoke to you directly, told you it is His will for you to heal people, and is feeding you answers to unsolvable medical riddles.

Sure, many people may not believe you at first, but since your knowledge and actions are backed up by Actual Science, eventually the results will speak for themselves. They cannot argue with you when you are genuinely saving lives in unprecedented ways AND the Church is on your side. (Which it would have to be, eventually, and given that she's already a noblewoman, they probably wouldn't even mind that much.)

This is also a very good way to explain your sudden personality change. Oh, I used to be vapid, belligerent, and somewhat evil, but now I'm considerate, caring, and intelligent? Simple, when God spoke to me, he showed me the error of my ways, and I've decided to listen to Him and change my behavior.

This could even get you out of a marriage, if you can get them to let you join a covent! But this anime is partly a romance, so that wouldn't really make sense for the story. 🙄

Anyway, it's a decent show, though I'm not a huge fan of the art style. But every episode I can't stop wishing she would use heavenly visions as a cover for her weirdness 🤷🏻‍♀️ (I actually don't think they've mentioned the Church at all, so maybe their universe doesn't even have Christianity?)

#doctor elise #doctor elise: the royal lady with the lamp #by elise #yes i was raised Catholic and grew up learning ab saints why do you ask? 😶

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imahinatjon · 7 months ago

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How she feels

Higuchi x reader

Just felt like it. Sfw.

Higuchi was in love with you. Not that she could say anything though. It used to be her superior, Akutagawa, she adored the man. She was obsessed. But her love was always unrequited.

Higuchi used to call you to complain. To tell you about him, and how much she loved him, that she looked up to him, but he wouldn't even spare her a glance. He was not interested in romance.

You always listened, patient with her rambling, as she stumbled over her words, tears threatening to spill and voice cracking ever so slightly, because the man she loved didn't love her back, because he didn't treat her well.

She would then listen to you calmly tell her that things were going to be alright. That she was alright. You gave her advice, gave her your opinion on the matter, explained it from an outsiders view.

Maybe he's not interested in romance? Too consumed by his job?

She accepted that. And let it go. Until a few days later and she was crying to you on the phone again.

"He's just so mean"

"He's in the port Mafia, he's not supposed to be nice"

You seemed a little irritated after god knows how many calls, and she picked up on that - but you never said anything, you were far too kind, and Higuchi was far too shy to bring it up, so she opted for avoidance. She stopped calling so often.

But it didn't feel right. She missed calling you almost every day. She still went and visited you twice a week, but it didn't feel like enough. She wasn't seeing you or talking to you as much as she wanted.

It was like this for two weeks until the realisation came to her when she picked up her phone ready to dial your number.

She had a hard day at work, and to relieve stress and relax, to make herself feel better, her immediate thoughts when to calling you. To tell you about her day. You always made her feel better, she loved that about you. You were always so calm and patient and relaxing and-

She loved that about you...

Pausing to think on it, that wasn't all she loved about you.

She loved your voice, how firm and steady it was, reassuring. You could be worried, nervous, agitated, and yet, when she came to you feeling the same, you managed to disguise those anxieties, all for her. She wished she could do the same for you.

Higuchi loved your smile too, how bright it was, pretty. You lit up an entire room when you smiled or laughed. Her eyes always drifted towards you.

She loved your personality. It was complex, and you had many faces, many different emotions expressed in many different ways, changing your entire deminor to fit the situation while remaining wholeheartedly... you. She wished she could see the face you made when in love.

That was it. Love, she loved everything about you, not just those three things. Higuchi just loved you.

She thought it was Akutagawa, and while she does admire him, that is really all there is too it, she can't see herself living a happy and fulfilled life with him, she can't see herself pursuing a real meaningful relationship with him, she couldn't see her future in Akutagawa, he was just a fleeting fantasy fueled by her own delusion.

But everything she wanted in a true healthy relationship, she could see that in you.

To Higuchi, your out of her league. But, that won't stop her from swooning. She's realised she loves you, probably has for a long time.

She won't tell you. She can't tell you. She needs to be more sure of herself first, more certain. Her feelings are clear as day, but... she just needs time. Then she'll let you know.

And as she swipes on your name and clicks the green call button, a small smile on her face, as she hears you pick up the call and greet her with your usual 'hello', she swears she hears a hint of affection in your voice. And she's certain she had a chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly more of an incoherent ramble if you ask me 😅

Masterlist :3

#imagine #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #x reader #bsd higuchi #Higuchi x reader

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causeilikelix · 1 year ago

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During the Rainstorm - Chapter Seven

↳ Pairing: Hyunjin X OC, (Mentions of Minho x OC)

↳ Genre: Romance, angst, fluff sprinkled in, smut (eventual), slow burn, strangers/enemies(?) to lovers, non-idol au (I'm sure this'll have a happy ending but I don't have much of it written)

↳ Characters: Yoon Seol (OC), Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Minho, Kim Woojin (whoops), Bang Chan, Kim Seungmin, Seo Changbin, and maybe some other mentions of the boys

↳ See: Chapter One for full summary and blanket warnings

↳ Chapter Warnings: Graphic sexual talk but no actual sex (yet), cursing, decidedly short chapter (but worth it)

↳ Read on my AO3: HERE

↳ Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long! I moved to Korea and then I moved back to Korea after plans fell through.... anyway, enjoy!

<- Chapter Six - Chapter Eight ->

SEOL HAD NO idea who was crazier. Hyunjin for pursuing her so relentlessly, or herself for being so responsive to it. Her cheeks burned after watching that little display with the strawberry sugar.

It was needless to say, but Seol had the desperate need to say it anyway: Hyunjin was obnoxiously hot. In fact, he was probably the most beautiful person she’d ever laid her eyes on. Those plush lips, his smooth skin, and gorgeous eyes that could switch between innocence and sin at the drop of a hat left her knees wobbly and her panties wetter than anyone had ever made them.

Seol wished she could blame the aching in her core from the anticipation she had over her weekend with Minho. However, something about Hyunjin’s, well, everything made her body react to him in ways she didn’t want to think about. At this point, Seol couldn’t even confidently say that anyone else had ever elicited these kinds of reactions out of her body. Hyunjin was sure giving Minho a run for his money.

Seol walked with him side by side down the street, peering into shop windows and glancing at the vendor carts. His knuckles grazed hers every couple of steps and every single brush was lightning through her veins. His touch sparkled things in her that she’d never even imagined before. None of the shops had anything in the windows that caught her attention even half as much as he did.

Hwang Hyunjin. Tall, boyishly handsome, and straight out of a romcom. It was almost too good to be true. The fact that she had been continuously annoyed with him from the moment she laid eyes on him this morning made it worse. At the restaurant, the sight of his cheekbones that were sharper than a knife had sent her already rising blood pressure through the roof. She already was in the mood to scream and curse and cry. His arrival hadn’t helped the situation.

At least, not until it did.

Now just his touch was sending electricity through her.

Seol pretended not to be affected as she peered closer at a street vendor selling scarves. None of the patterns were quite her style but they served as a decent distraction from the next brush of his fingers. Hyunjin kept his gaze on the offerings of the various shops as well. The next stall was full of handmade jewelry and Seol perked up immediately. She stepped up to the table and the shopkeeper greeted her warmly. Hyunjin trailed behind, watching as Seol peered at the jewelry.

“Wow, you have such great taste!” The shopkeeper approved Seol's choice of a pair of earrings. A pair of seashells made out of clear crystal. “Those have been really popular.”

“Really?” Seol smiled warmly. She held the earrings up to her ear and peered in the small mirror set up on the table. “Hyunjin-ssi, what do you think?”

“I think...” He peered closer, not really seeing the earrings but instead being distracted by the brightest smile he’d seen from her all day. “I think they suit you really well.”

“How much are they?” Seol turned back to the woman.

“Hm, well... normally they’d be 35,000 won, but you two make such a cute couple that I’ll give them to you for 30,000.” The woman’s sly grin made Seol’s cheeks ignite.

“Ah... we’re not actually a cou-” Seol began, but was silenced by 30,000 won in cash appearing in front of her face. The woman snatched it up before Seol could protest.

“Thank you, ajumma. I think they look really good on her, don’t you think?” Hyunjin’s smile nearly blinded her. He took the small paper bag from the woman before Seol could even lift her hand to take it.

Seol gaped at him, unable to believe how easily he handed over his money and played along with the misunderstanding. Hyunjin’s easy smile took her off guard and she glanced down at the earrings in her hand. The woman took them from her to put them in a bag. Seol swallowed a lump in her throat. He made it seem so effortless.

“Come with me,” Hyunjin broke the barrier between them and slid his fingers into the spaces between hers.

Hyunjin gently pulled her along through the crowd. He seemed to have a destination in mind so Seol didn’t protest. A cold wind blew down the busy street but Seol couldn’t feel the chill. She couldn’t explain why she found the back of Hyunjin’s head so fascinating, but it was as if no one else existed. She was sure there were other people around her but she could only see him.

It wasn’t until Hyunjin came to a stop did Seol come to her senses. She glanced around to find that he’d let her to an open plaza at the end of the shopping street. While there was still a crowd here, the space was open enough for everyone to spread out. Hyunjin stopped them under a streetlight off to the side and away from most of the hustle and bustle. He turned her to face him before dropping her hand. Seol’s eyes glanced at it instinctively and Hyunjin’s perfect lips curved into a small smile.

“Do you want to put these on now?” Hyunjin produced the small bag with the earrings in it and offered it to her, “I like the ones you’re wearing and all, but I think these will look better with that dress.”

“Oh, uh,” Seol reached up to touch her earlobes. She’d forgotten which ones she was wearing until her fingertips grazed the silver teardrops. The ones Minho gave her. “Yes, he gave me these and I don’t wanna-”

“Let me.”

Before Seol could even touch the earrings, Hyunjin got to work. He honed in on one ear. As gently as possible, Hyunjin carefully removed one of the teardrop earrings before moving to the other. He slowly pulled the post out of her piercing. Somehow the sensation of his fingers grazing her earlobe sent lightning through her. Seol watched his face as he worked. He pulled one of his plush lips between his teeth and furrowed his eyebrows as he focused on not hurting her. Once the earrings were out of her ears, he slipped the unwanted jewelry into his pocket.

Then, Hyunjin opened the bag and pulled out the crystal earrings. The iridescent seashells glittered under the yellow glow of the streetlamp. He grinned as he watched her admire them for a few seconds. She reached for them as if to put them on herself, but Hyunjin pulled them out of reach.

“I can do it, I’m not a child.” Seol protested.

“Let me.” Hyunjin’s soft voice washed over her and Seol dropped her hands.

Seol swallowed the lump in her throat when Hyunjin put his attention on one of the earrings. He carefully removed the back and leaned in closer. All of the air between them dissipated as the space between them closed. His warm, honey smelling breath fanned across her cheek. His glossy lips were parted in concentration as he guided the post towards her piercing. She just knew that his lips would taste like strawberries. His eyes were trained on his task. As carefully as possible, he slid the post into the tiny hole on her earlobe and secured the back on it.

His fingers brushed her hair and along the skin of her neck. His warm breath fanned across her cheek. Somehow, gooseflesh bumped along her arms and a shiver ripped down her spine.

Then he switched to the other side.

Hyunjin made a show of turning his head and letting his hair fall into his face a little. His eyes were trained on her other ear as he advanced. Seol could only watch. His skin looked flawless under the light ahead, which gave him an ethereal glow. Her eyes drifted down to his parted lips.

His fingertips grazed her cheek as he swept some hair behind her ear. Seol wondered if he could tell that her cheeks were warm due to the blush spreading through her body. She wanted to curse under her breath. Curse in general, curse at him, curse at herself. She was certain that he was doing this to seduce her and the worst part wasn’t that he was trying; it was that it was working. Seol’s thoughts swirled with the idea of leaning in and finally tasting the honey on his lips.

Hyunjin fastened the earring securely and moved his hands, but not far. His hands enveloped her shoulders and his face remained within kissing distance of hers. His eyes darted from one ear to the other for a few seconds before bursting the bubble and pulling back. His face broke into a grin that turned his eyes into little crescents and deepened the dimple on his cheek.

“There! You look beautiful!” Hyunjin beamed.

“Oh, I... thank you.” Seol’s blush deepened.

“Here, do you want these back?” Hyunjin offered her his hand.

The silver teardrop earrings sat on his palm, taunting her. She wondered if she’d just been blind or stupid but they weren’t even that pretty. The metal didn’t even look silver anymore. Bits of it flaked off to reveal whatever dark metal hid underneath. The shapes didn’t look identical. Seol stared at them for a few long seconds.

“No, I don’t. Minho gave those to me for my birthday a few months ago, let’s just get rid of them.” Seol started to take them from him but suddenly Hyunjin’s eyes sparkled and he shoved his hand into his pocket with the earrings.

“I have an idea of how to dispose of them.”

“Don’t you think that a trash can is good enough?” Seol gestured to a can a few feet away but didn’t look away from him.

“Seol-ah, wanna go to the beach?”

~!~!~!~!~!~

“IT’S THE OCEAN!” Seol squealed as she left Hyunjin’s side to hurry further down the beach towards the water. The sun was long gone, so most of the ocean looked inky black and she couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the ocean began. Bright lights illuminated the white sand beach right up to a few feet into the water before turning into the void. The waves turned white and foamy as they crashed onto the shore. Seol was certain that the water would be ice cold but she could shake the idea of jumping in anyway.

Large letters were stationed in the sand with a bright light shining on the words “Haeundae”. Seol longed to visit in the summer, too.

Right away she determined that her heels would be of no use in the sand so she leaned over to take them off. Hyunjin joined her as she fiddled with the ankle strap on her silver high heels. Wordlessly, Hyunjin shrugged off his coat and laid it on the sand for her. Seol glanced over at him and he gestured for her to sit down.

“Are you sure? Isn’t that coat cashmere or something?” Seol scoffed and turned back to her task without sitting.

“Nah, I don’t bring anything cashmere within a mile of anywhere sandy.” Hyunjin took it upon himself to sit down. Seol glared at him for a second before ultimately deciding to sit next to him. “Are you planning on going in the water?”

“I have to get close enough to make sure the earrings actually make it into the water.” Seol successfully took one shoe off and set it aside before getting to work on the other.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Sure, but who wears pants to a date? This outfit was planned with easy access in mind.” Seol reminded him when she freed her other foot. Next she reached up the skirt of her dress but Hyunjin grabbed her wrist before she could tug down.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“The only thing worse than wearing heels in the sand is sand getting into your socks.” Seol shook off his wrist and succeeded in peeling the sheer stockings off her body.

Almost as an afterthought, Seol glanced around to see if anyone else was at the beach but it was basically deserted for miles. There were a few people in either direction but they were far enough away where they weren’t going to bother one another. Seol balled up her stockings and shoved it into one of her heels, though she figured the straps wouldn’t save them from any weather, she could at least keep them from blowing away. Once her toes were free, she carefully dipped them into the cold sand. She shivered but didn’t retract her toes. The icy ocean air blew through her coat but she didn’t really care about the cold.

“It’s been ages since I’ve been to the beach.” Seol sighed, staring out into the abyss.

“Yeah, it’s been a while for me, too.”

“When was the last time you saw the ocean?”

“I’ve flown over it a few times on my way to L.A. but I haven’t had the chance to actually go to a beach in four or five years maybe?”

“Me too, I think! After I graduated from high school a bunch of my friends and I had a party on the beach to celebrate. I don’t think I’ve been back since.”

“Last time I went to a beach,” Hyunjin paused to take a long breath as if to prepare him for the words ahead, “I was with my girlfriend. I told her I loved her and she told me that she didn’t think she was capable of love.”

“Ouch. Was this the same girl who was married a few months later?”

“No, it was her cousin.”

“Double ouch.”

“Who is now married with two kids, so who’s to say. Maybe she just wasn’t capable of loving me.”

“I don’t see why not. You’re kind, generous, loyal, and more of a romantic than you want to admit.”

“You think I’m a romantic?” Hyunjin blinked at her in surprise.

“Come on, you basically saved my ass back there from my e- from Minho. Why have we spent so much time together since then? You just bought me these earrings.” Seol gestured to her ears, as if Hyunjin needed reminding of how beautifully they framed her face.

“I mean, I don’t know?” Hyunjin mused, “It's been so long since I’ve romanced anyone, I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, you’ve done a decent job so far.” Seol shrugged, “Where did you put the other earrings? I think it’s time to get rid of them.”

Hyunjin patted his coat until he identified which pocket in which he’d shoved the earrings. He pulled them out of the pocket and passed them to her. The metal was cold to the touch and she winced when he dropped it into her hand. Or maybe it was from the blast of icy ocean air that ripped straight through her clothes. Or maybe it was the spark of electricity that flashed through her when the tips of Hyunjin’s fingers grazed her palm.

Seol cleared her throat and rose to her feet. The sand shifted beneath her and she held her hands out to stable herself. Hyunjin chuckled from his spot on the coat.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“I’m just gonna get a little closer. I’ll be back. Don’t steal my shoes!” Seol started off towards the line of darker sand where the ocean met the land.

Seol had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to last very long in the cold wind. Her toes were beginning to lose feeling and her nose was running. The last thing she needed right now was to wipe her nose while she was in the company of one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen. She had to keep some of her dignity. She didn’t know why coming to the ocean would be a good idea during the coldest month of the year. Seol was just about ready to go back to her hotel room but she had no idea if she wanted Hyunjin to join her.

The icy water caresses her toes and a shiver ripped up her spine. Seol stared out into the darkness, unable to tell where the sea became the sky. She glanced down at the earrings in her palm.

Eight months of complete bullshit. How had she mistaken attention for affection? Minho may have liked her at some point, if not romantically then as a person at least. They wouldn’t have started hooking up otherwise. He must have liked it at least a little because this had been going on for months. She wondered what could have possibly gone wrong. When did Minho change? When did she change?

The earrings were proof that Minho may have liked her at some point. Though, he’d given them to her without much ceremony. She’d invited him to her birthday dinner and he showed up halfway through the night. He stayed for a drink, slid the box with the earrings over to her, then had one more drink before leaving. At the time, Seol had been touched. Now she wondered if he’d given her hand-me-downs or something. She wouldn’t put it past him.

A frigid wave lapped at her ankles and she shivered again.

Minho didn’t deserve all this ceremony.

She raised her arm and chucked the jewelry into the sea. Between the churning waters and the black of night she couldn’t see where they landed but it didn’t matter anymore. The earrings were gone. The void began to call. She didn’t want to fall into it, but the darkness called to her nonetheless. Seol involuntarily began to lean into the darkness, as if searching for the end.

She smelled Hyunjin before she felt him. His musky scent mixed with wool wafted into her nose. Moments later, a pair of strong arms slid around her waist. He pulled her against him, back to chest and buried his head into her neck. Seol leaned into him. She decided not to resist him any longer. His hair tickled her skin and she sighed at the sensation.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin’s voice reverberated through her.

“I think so.”

“You’re shivering.”

“It’s February.”

“Let’s get you inside, yeah? I’ll walk you back to the hotel and we can call it a night. You need your rest.” Hyunjin offered quietly.

Seol nodded numbly.

For a few minutes, neither of them moved. Hyunjin’s warmth enveloped her and she let her eyes slide shut. With Hyunjin wrapped around her, the winter air couldn’t touch her. Seol turned in his arms and slipped her hands around his nimble waist. She buried her head in his chest and he hugged her tighter.

When she was in his arms, the void couldn’t find her. He became her tether to the mortal world. He kept her on Earth. Seol wished she could describe the feeling of being in his arms.

She wondered how many poems she would write about him.

“Don’t go.” She mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Don’t go,” Seol repeated. She pulled her face out of his chest to look up at him. Hyunjin chuckled softly, lifting one of his hands to smooth out her hair, though the wind ruined his work easily.

“I won’t. I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

Hyunjin smiled down at her warmly. His shallow dimples dented his cheeks and his eyes sparkled, even with the lights behind him. Hyunjin’s pink lips looked warm and inviting. Seol had no desire to refuse him anymore. Warmth spread from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. It may as well have been August.

Seol blamed her next move on the alcohol. But she had a feeling she would have done it without it, too.

She rose onto her tiptoes and slotted her mouth over Hyunjin’s sparkling smile. He tasted of sugar and strawberry juice. For a moment, Hyunjin remained still as he contemplated his new surroundings. Thankfully, he didn’t take long to melt and part his lips against hers. Seol sighed into it, gratefully kissing him deeply. She almost hated that she had to close her eyes because she longed to see what Hyunjin looked like as he worked his mouth with hers.

One of his arms remained around her waist while the other moved to cup her cheek. Using this grip on her, Hyunjin controlled the angle to keep the kiss deep. His tongue swiped along her lower lip in no time and she wasted no time in parting her lips to let him in. Seol let out an involuntary moan into his mouth which Hyunjin eagerly swallowed. The muscle swept along hers and she could only taste Hyunjin. Was it that he tasted of honey and strawberries naturally, or did they taste of him?

After a moment, Hyunjin slowly pulled away. He chuckled when Seol leaned up, chasing his lips. He allowed their lips to connect again, his plush lips pillowy against hers before moving out of her reach.

“Princess, I’ve spent all day wondering what kissing you would be like,” Hyunjin admitted with an incredulous laugh, “From the moment I saw you in that coffee shop I wanted to taste the mocha on your lips. Nothing could have possibly prepared me for how delicious you actually taste.”

“Do you want to come up?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“What?”

Seol removed one of her arms from around his waist to point towards one of the tall hotels behind them. Hyunjin followed her line of sight until he realized what she was asking. It was what he wanted from when they first met, and now that he was getting it he wanted to be careful. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her, but her lips were too delectable to leave unkissed for the foreseeable future.

“Do you want to come upstairs with me? I have too much chocolate and champagne that will go to waste.” Seol’s explanation was weak and she knew it. They’d eaten and drunk their fill.

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin turned to look back at her. He gazed deeply into her eyes to search for the consent he needed.

“Yes. Please.”

“I would love to.”

Seol used her now free hand to cup the back of his neck. She applied some pressure and Hyunjin didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped his hands along her neck to cup her jaw and dipped down to kiss her again. They didn’t need to go immediately anyway.

A flash of lightning on the horizon fell on closed eyes.

Several seconds later, a roll of thunder found itself muffled by the surf and Hyunjin’s sigh of pleasure.

Seol suddenly had never been happier to be cheated on.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #ellie writes #during the rainstorm #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x oc #stray kids imagine #hyunjin imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff

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theknightmarket · 2 years ago

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"Chase me."

In which Murdock and a pursuing detective dance around romance and dead bodies.

TW: murder, blood, cursing, suggestive themes

Pages: 23 - Words: 9,500

[Requests: OPEN]

Criminals are like an itch. You go after one, and, when you catch it, three more pop up in the most inconvenient places. It makes you wish you had never bothered in the first place, but leave them alone, and they’ll fester, make you suffer, weeds that stay rooted in the ground until the entire thing is burned to a crisp.

In the most recent months, murders have spread like a wildfire, and, sure, they destroyed the thieves, the addicts, the scammers, scared them into hiding, but it left you dealing with the smoldering remains. Among the fire starters, the ringleader was elusive and infamous, labelled by the media as the Serotonin Serial Killer. You knew the press liked giving them quippy nicknames, but it was always a dumb move, because, in your and the rest of the departments’ opinion, it just made them more feisty – more likely to act out just to see those letters blazing in the newspaper. It gave them God complexes as their actions drew attention to them, whether you knew their actual name or not, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was people talked, and they talked about them. The murderers who made your entire life harder.

However, as much as you hated the rise of crimes in that industry, you benefited from it, despite how much that statement left a sour taste in your mouth. You were one of the top detectives for cases like those, the ones where people knew next to nothing about the murderer, nor the victims, nor the motive, nor anything at all! It enraged you like a bull, taunted by the waving of a flag, a knife stuck into the back of a higher up had you seething with just once glance. Half of them deserved it, too, which made it even more infuriating that you couldn’t just stick them behind bars and let them rot.

You dragged another red string away from the man’s dead body, a photo you had taken just as vague as the rest of them and linked it to the centre. That was all you could do, and even the middle wasn’t clear; a shaded, grimy picture of a man with sunglasses. You wanted to punch it. So, so much. But you couldn’t because it was the only linking feature to each of the victims. The first to be offed was a girl barely past 21, working nights in the nearest café. As much as you were aware, they had nothing in common. Meanwhile, the latest man to die by Serotonin’s hands was a – supposedly – honest businessman, who ran a couple grocery stores down the bay. Killed in his own home, wife still sleeping next to him. It was a horrid sight for her to wake up to, made only worse by the fact that it wasn’t to the police knocking on their door. Rather, it was the ruckus they made across the street.

You remembered it well, and now, the embarrassment and rage burned like suns through your veins, setting alight your skin and cursing your cheeks with warmth.

You had gotten the call late at night, stars sparkling brightly, making faux promises that sleep would come easy and delicate – though, delicate it was, and you woke with the first chime of a ringtone. Lazily bringing the phone to your ear, you mumbled out a rough, “Hello?”

“15 Mayfield Way, Peteston.”

You squinted into the darkness, as if looking hard enough would bring any kind of logic to your mind. It didn’t work, and it left you asking shakily, “Can you… could you repeat that, for me?”

“15 Mayfield Way, Peteston—” You groaned, they weren’t giving you much to work with and it was getting on your nerves. Hell, you were about to press down on the end call button, but five little, simple, blunt words made you pause. “We think we’ve got him.”

All the other person heard was the clatter of the phone dropping to the floor, shuffling around a room, and constant ragged breaths. That was where the call cut off.

The officer glanced around the scene, shrugging, and giving an assuring smile. They assumed you were on your way, but they couldn’t be sure with how distant you were from their department. They weren’t aware you were on the case until you arrived at the last crime, dressed in a dark trench coat, and brandishing a cup of coffee like a gun.

Now, they were expecting you to make an appearance, no matter the time or place. There’d be hell to pay if they didn’t let you in one what was happening, and, for such a big event as having the chance to catch the guy tormenting the city for the last four months, they were sure you’d want to know.

But the officers – who crowded around 15 Mayfield Way with guns, tasers and bullhorns at the ready – were not the only ones eager to see your car pull up.

Sitting in the window, leg pulled up to his chest and cradling a bloodied knife, was the Serotonin Serial Killer. As his friends knew him, Murdock. With a name like that, what other choice did he have than to go on a calculated killing spree? He laughed to himself; a gravelly chuckle that didn’t dare reach anyone else’s ears. Not the wife laying peacefully behind him, and certainly not her dead husband.

Red and blue splashed against his face every second, playing a silent funeral march. A grin crept onto his face as a more subtle but vastly more interesting vehicle sidled up to the cop cars. Your car. The first time he had seen it, he hadn’t guessed you would be behind the wheel, but it made sense. Dark, sleek, unnoticeable. He liked that.

There was something he liked more, though. Oh, he loved your cat-like movements, the barked orders that sent shivers up his spine like none of the pigs could. He almost wished you would find him, but he couldn’t let that happen. Not before he introduced himself properly, he wouldn’t want your first words exchanged to be the last, now, would he? The thing that he absolutely adored was that scowl. The deep concentration molded into pure wrath, a challenge to God to take this opportunity away from you, and the tip of your lips. He would talk for years about those, he would let them be his final words, and that flicker of light against your irises. Flames that ate up the sense of duty instilled in you, consumed your morals, and tempted you to just do the job yourself.

Murdock was conflicted on that front. He dangled his weapon of choice in his hand, the blade scratching at the window, teasing you without you even knowing it. You were just too good. In that moment, he knew he couldn’t get you over to his side. You’d rather take the high road, lock people in cells and risk them escaping, legally or not, than use the gun given to you by your title. You would rather do a lot of things than outright kill a man.

With time and attention, he pledged to change that.

The smirk widened. It was a fantasy he couldn’t wait to make come true. Later, he had to remind himself, but another part of him bit back that it would still happen, eventually.

You only looked mad when you arrived at his crime scenes, and he felt a pang of pride swell in his chest. Only he could make you so angry you nearly cracked the fingers of the officer you shook hands with.

Only he could be the cause of a pained yell that echoed down the street. It was a glorious orchestra of the gods, and he had front row seats from the window of 13 Mayfield Way, Peteston. Those incompetent pigs had got it wrong; he had never set foot in 15, but 13 was exactly where the body of Frank Deffler, an old man who got away with loan sharking under the guise of a fine grocery store owner, was laying.

Murdock had nothing against Lucy, his wife, but you had to leave something unique for the police to remember you by, and he planned to be in your mind for as long as possible. Or, at least, until he could strike again. He was already coiling up, like a snake ready for the kill, but that was for another time. Another chuckle, only barely audible over your ranting from outside. You called the officers all the names under the sun, barely turning back to apologize to the family you had disturbed.

He couldn’t wait to see you again. Maybe even hear those insults pointed towards him, for a change.

Sliding off the ledge, he absentmindedly fished a card out from his jacket. It didn’t matter that it was clean before he tossed it somewhere, it didn’t matter that he heard the splatter as it landed near Frank’s neck. It didn’t matter because you knew what had happened, and you were coming to get him.

Scratch not wanting to damage your only shot of the killer, a dart was lodged between his eyes before you were fully aware of what you were doing. It gave you a sick sense of glee seeing the piercing metal lodged in his head. You knew it shouldn’t have, but it did, and you couldn’t find it in you to feel bad about it. A couple more shoves towards the edge of the cliff and you might be ready to do it in real life if you ever got the chance. You weren’t there yet.

“Damn, did he fuck your girl, too?”

James Pratt, your ever helpful colleague, came strolling through the door just in time to see you stare daggers and throw them into Serotonin’s face. You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother to turn around; you already knew what he looked like, you didn’t need to see him again. Blond hair, shit-eating grin, scar along his neck, cute dimples. No, you were too involved with trying to figure out what the killer would look like without the shadows, without those sunglasses, and – without admitting it out loud – without a nose.

“Piss off, Pratt,” was all you could muster up, falling into the desk seat behind you. Your office was home to a plentiful number of trinkets and furniture, your favorite being the plush spinning chair given to you after solving your first ever case. That was a piece of cake compared to this, and you knew you’d get little more than a pat on the back and another file on your desk by the morning. It was to be expected, you weren’t the baby detective you were three years ago, but you chalked it up to the new management. Two new fat cats getting the medals and media’s attention, which you could always do without, for your discoveries. The Henderson murder, the Bayside Break-ins, even the mole you uncovered in the room two offices over fell under their names and their credit.

You groaned, took a deep breath, leaned back in the chair to find some kind of calm after a stressful night. It didn’t work.

“Alright,” he hummed, “but I thought you’d want to know.” Tap, tap, tap. He drew a manicured hand along the wood of your table. A sweet mahogany he had always commented on, whenever he had the time. He was not doing so now, which lead you but to one conclusion.

You picked your head up and shot to your feet. A warning look settled on your face… if he was wrong, if he was tricking you, if something like what had happened light night dared to happen again, he would pay.

James smiled placatingly.

Tap, tap, tap.

You blinked.

“Diamond Avenue, first house on your left.”

Like a bullet from a gun, you disappeared from sight within seconds. The rattling of your footsteps would send lions into hiding, but you would have to settle for every member of the investigative department. They knew when to bother you, and when you should be feared – by the hard-set flame erupting in your eyes, it was easy to tell which of those sets of rules they should abide by.

Your colleague was left swaying from side to side, not from drunkenness, but from an attempt to keep himself awake and aware. It was easy to let your guard down in those dingy, dark offices, where the blinds trapped mystery and deceit inside and scared off the blinding light. Your hands would disappear into shadows, your feet would scatter inches away from your legs, and monsters could stay hidden in the corners of the room.

If only you had looked at James when he’d entered, you might have finally noticed the man you had been trying to catch for months aiming a knife in the general direction of your friend. Murdock stayed silent, pressed against the wine painted wall, while James tipped you off. It was his game, and he wanted to make sure the roles were played perfectly. A courtesy he would never offer to anyone else. He wondered if you would appreciate it, or whether you would punch him in the face for invading his privacy – either way, he didn’t mind.

“You might want to hurry,” the officer noted, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Trying. “They’re quicker than they look.”

Murdock only laughed, mocking and genuine at the same time. A strange combination that had James’ heart beating faster and faster the longer he spent with joy in his throat.

“I only need to be there for, eh, the last five minutes?” He twirled the knife around, digging it into the plaster and etching a small hexagon like how children wrote their initials in a heart. He thought about doing that but figured it would be better to do it later when you were actually present – possibly tied up in your chair, it was comfortable enough for you to be there a while, and nobody would check up on you. He had watched you long enough to know that not a single soul dared enter the lion’s den without your go-ahead, and that was what duct-tape was for.

Taking a step back to look at his artwork – having added a pentagon and some more straight lines – Murdock continued, “Really, I don’t have to be there at all, but I can’t resist seeing their face when I’ve gone to all that trouble. Pictures, as well, aren’t I kind?”

James didn’t respond. Understandable, given how his throat was filling up with blood. Otherwise, it’d be rude to leave him without an answer.

The clatter of his body as he fell to the floor didn’t bother the rest of the department. If it was dangerous to go into your office while you were there, it was a death sentence to go in when you weren’t – so, Murdock could get away with leaving him there.

He grimaced as he stepped forward, a disappointed growl forcing itself through his throat when his shoes came away sticky. Great, now he’d have to throw them out – they were his best pair! Oh, well.

“It’s your lucky day,” he mumbled to himself, leaning against your desk to wrestle off the stained shoe. The other one was removed, too, but he only placed the bloody one on your desk. Mahogany, he noted, and he was gone just like that.

Stepping out of your car, the quiet grind of gravel underneath your wheels having calmed your nerves, you noticed there was a distinct lack of police. Of course, it would make sense for James to come to you first, he knew how devoted to this case you were, but it was off-putting to pull up to a completely normal looking house with the knowledge a dead body was stuffed somewhere inside. Just in case, you dialed the number of the cop from before, left a blunt message and hung up.

A shaky breath escaped you as you steeled your nerves. This didn’t have to be hard; this didn’t have to be a battle. You could be in and out within minutes, handcuffs on the Serotonin Serial Killer and another tally on your ladder.

The door was already unlocked when you pushed at the handle. It wasn’t even properly closed, letting frigid air, as cold as the grave, swirl around your feet. You stepped over the boundary and looked around. It was a big place, fit for a king, or a man making six figures, but you didn’t know if there was a difference. A wooden-boarded hallway stretched far in front of you, a couple of rooms falling out at the sides. You could see the back of a couch through an archway, and at the very end was the kitchen. A staircase spiraled up around a corner, and, while the designs in the banister were nice, you were more concerned with the splatter of blood at the first step.

You made sure not to tread in it as you ascended, and you quickly noticed that it wasn’t the only mark. It was steady, but the further up you went, the more blood pooled on the wood. A drop, a lining, a splash, until there was more crimson than brown. Half of you felt guilty, immeasurably so, for wishing such a fate on someone just to catch some guy, but the other part was bursting with excitement, raising your heartbeat, and forcing sweat to gather in uncomfortable places. Although it was better for the rest of the city, you didn’t like that you were happy now.

Especially when the trail of blood had you marching past a door marred with crayon and glitter. In this profession, those were facts you had to brush off, or lose yourself in the morality of the situation. Anybody with half a conscience would be troubled to the point of no return, hence why a lot of the new recruits quit after just a couple days on the force.

You had lasted three years; what did that say about you?

You would debate the ethics later, you promised, as the lead came to a stop. Not slow by any means, all that blood couldn’t have come from just one person, but it ended either way before a closed door. With the spread of sticky ooze against the ground, slowly melting into the cracks of the wood panels, you didn’t avoid getting your shoes dirty. The imprint of the soles haunted you as you twisted the handle.

The body was not hard to spot.

Peter Burrows slumped in his chair, a black tie curled around his neck like a snake and his jacket was shed lazily around a pair of strong shoulders. They lacked form but held him up enough to show meticulous strikes near his collarbone, though the rest of his body was shadowed by the desk light flashing from a side. It flickered and spat, eventually snuffing altogether when you stepped up to the table. A horror movie cue that had you squinting suspiciously, but that wasn’t the only thing that worried you. The thing that caught your nerves and pinched them tight around your heart was something that the Serotonin Serial Killer had never done before; he'd left clues. Purposeful and overwhelming helpful, so much so that you wondered if this was even his doing.

But it had to be. Who else would cut out the chemical formula of their namesake from the victim’s corpse and lay it in front of them? A copycat, maybe, since he had been around long enough to garner a cult following. You leaned forward to look at an array of photos spread across the desk, hoping they would provide some ideas to who this really was the fault of.

The light reflected off of some of the polaroids, but the gist was pretty easy to get – the guy was a serial cheater. Not as bad as a killer, but they had both committed their crime more than once. This one was, strangely, harder to look at, though, as you were confronted by Mr. Burrows in a variety of positions with a variety of women. Some blonde, some brunette, some old, some young – none his wife. Why were the wives always getting the short end of the stick? Whatever, it matched with the murder of Frank Deffler, so that added to it really being Serotonin.

And then, the theory was fully tossed to the side when you noticed the literal calling card sticking out from Peter’s suit pocket. Oh, and he had been generous enough to draw a winky-face. How sweet.

You brought it close to your eyes, scanning for every little detail that could give him away, before flipping it over. You huffed, bit back a growl, chucked the thing somewhere behind you and started to look around the crime scene for more information. The man was getting on your nerves, not least of all because he was suddenly changing so much! You weren’t one to enjoy the chase, not as much as other detectives in the department, but being given the answers this easy was almost insulting.

There was a number in bright, bold white set against that blue background – a burner phone, it had to be. He may have been giving you too many clues, but he wasn’t an idiot. Or, that you knew him to be.

Breathing in and out, it was easy to forget you had never met him before. It pissed you off that you were always so close, just seconds away from getting a glimpse of a torn coat or pair of sunglasses, and then everything would be ripped away from you because of the wrong house, or a slight traffic delay, or anything else that the gods above thought you deserved on that day.

Turning with sudden fury, you snatched the calling card off the ground, pocketed it without a thought and stormed away. The police could deal with the kids and wife, wherever they may be – on your way down the stairs again, hearing the distant wail of sirens, you wondered if they had heard the murder. Assuming they didn’t, you also wondered if the killer was doing that on purpose. To spare their reactions or to make them terrified of their ignorance, you didn’t know. Maybe you’d ask him when he was behind bars.

You had many things to ask him, actually. Why he started killing in the first place, why he chose his victims, why he was suddenly so generous in his leaving clues. They all begged to be answered, but you had no way to do that yet. When you were able, though, the guy wasn’t going to catch a wink for a week straight. By then, he’d be ready for the chair, probably begging for it, too, with the interrogation you’d planned.

The call of the police didn’t meet your ears, nor the sound of a family talking inside. Cries, consolations, cops, in general – you didn’t care for it. The person was already dead, why bother weeping about it when there were things you could fix. You could find the murderer in the time it took to hold a funeral, and every minute wasted would make it harder. Did that make you a monster? You didn’t think so, though sessions of therapy did give you the impression sometimes, you just liked taking action.

And action you did take when you arrived back at your office. The first being to mutter, “Shit,” at the corpse crumped like wastepaper in front of your door. Blond hair, scar along his neck – it was James. You knew someone would take him out eventually, with a gun or on a date, there were equal chances. Hell, a couple days more and you might’ve found yourself flipping a coin.

But that possibility was no more; his blood leaked from the symmetrical wound on the front of his neck to the back. The skin folded in on itself, creating a flap that sputtered and wept with crimson. You barely noticed it on the dark wood floor, but his body wasn’t something you could easily dismiss. Although, and you sidestepped the cadaver to get a better look, the bloody shoe marring your desk did pique more interest.

First, call the head of your department, then, gloves. It was the right thing to do, James was young enough to still have a lot of his family, so they’d probably want to know as soon as possible. Surprisingly, the fat cat who was brought in – one of those pricks who stole your achievements – reacted more than you had, even though they hadn’t held a conversation since he was hired. A shocked gasp, some mumblings about how horrid he looked, and then he stopped. Your own eyes met his dark blues, but the color didn’t bother you. The accusatory spark did.

You had half the mind to shove him out, deal with James’ body on your own, but you had more important things to get to. You knew who had done this, and, like you said before, actions spoke louder than words. Finding his killer was your topmost priority, leading you to hole up in a vacant office with decent reception while the department declared your original one a crime scene.

One, two, three, four.

You took a deep breath in.

Five, six, seven, eight.

You let it out.

Nine, ten, eleven—

“Hello?”

His voice was…

Normal.

It was completely normal, like a man answering a routine call from a doctor’s office, like a man who hadn’t separated skin from skin dozens of times without remorse, like a man who was not a murderer. The voice had a depth and frequency achieved by most in the early mornings and a tone befitting something primordial, the void come to life. You would get lost in it if he had continued speaking, but, lucky for you and the case, he had stopped after just that one word, not that it didn’t have an effect on you. A raised heartbeat, eyes widened by a nanometer. It didn’t fit a hardened killer. Briefly, confusion flooded over you.

But anger was seconds behind. That bull-like fury as you thought you had been tricked. Serotonin wasn’t stupid. You were, though, because you had foolishly believed he had given you a real number. The guy wasn’t connected at all to the murderer you had been chasing, probably letting him escape the city or state or country entirely. You had fucked everything up because of trusting some criminal stranger, and people had died. All those victims, Deffler, Burrows, James.

The phone was about to split in half with the pressure you put on it.

“I apologize, sir,” you spoke, gathering as much calm as possible, “I don’t think you’re the person I am trying to reach.”

He didn’t reply, and you took the silence as a go ahead to hang up. “Have a good night.” Your finger sprang to the button, a huff escaping you unwilfully. Another dead end and it didn’t give you any kind of satisfaction.

“I didn’t think you’d give up so easily.”

A fraction of a second later and it all would have been lost. How good for you, then, that you were able to draw your thumb back and hold the phone to your ear again.

“You didn’t give me a fake number.”

“Why would I do that?”

His voice had changed. You noticed after getting your bearings that the normality had been exchanged for almost a drawl. Brooding and dramatic. Dark. It fit him better than the every-day-Joe had, and you may have even admitted that it left you stunned. That depth was still there, deeper than the Mariana Trench and just as pressuring, but there was no light, just specks of change that you couldn’t see. You weren’t sure which voice was the act.

“Because I’m the detective set to track you down and put you in jail,” you answered, leaning back into the chair that wasn’t as good as yours, “and not many people are open to being locked up.”

“Then don’t lock me up.”

“I won’t let you fry, either.” He hummed, and you felt the reverberation shake your hand. “And why is that? You don’t know who I am.”

“Exactly, I don’t.” You rose from your chair and pulled apart the blinds. The sun was going down, which spread a haze of golden browns over the cityscape, like freshly baked cookies. “You’ve killed dozens of people, enough to fill a gallery, not many killers can manage that, or even want to.”

“And you want to know why.” It wasn’t a question.

A crack split your face in two, a barely noticeable smile. “Rough childhood? Father left and mother drank, you picked up the pieces?”

He laughed. Funny, you preferred it to the ones you’d hear daily from the conference room.

“Close, but you’re still off. Do you mind if I ask some questions?”

Now, you paused. You had nothing to hide, and you didn’t mind a murderer knowing some of the details of your life. So, limply, you shrugged.

“Good.”

Ah. He could see you.

“And yes, I can see you.”

The crack turned to a fissure.

Imaging you would be there for a while, you twisted the chair around and sat back into it. Putting your feet back up on the windowsill made the stiffness of the seat against your back better.

He started, “Is anyone else aware that we are talking?”

“No. They’re preoccupied with the body you left in my office.”

“How did you feel when—”

“Uh-uh,” you cut him off with a tut, “my turn.”

The break told you he yielded to your question, though, you didn’t know what to make it. There were too many queries brimming already, demanding to be asked now and not a moment later. After a few seconds of thought and shamelessly scanning the windows across from you for any sign of the guy, you settled.

“What should I call you?”

“You aren’t a fan of the Serotonin Serial Killer?”

By his tone, he wasn’t either, but he had set himself up for that one. You had to deal with the poorly constructed consequences.

“Too much of a mouthful,” you admitted, “and, “if these chats are to become habit, I don’t want to be running away every time your number shows up.”

A huff bellowed down the phone. Your eyes flickered wearily across the city line again. None of the windows showed movement, not even a glimmer of a candle – though, you wouldn’t put it past him to sit in a pitch-black room for the sake of it.

His answer came moments later, when, after you released a slight breath, he whispered his best kept secret.

“Murdock.”

This was the first time you’ve ever heard such a name; it was unique and packed a punch, rightfully so. You thought it necessary that a man like Murdock deserved to be the first one you know. Not that you knew why just yet, but there was a stirring in your gut that you’d be getting familiar with the name soon enough.

You didn’t voice this, however, instead replying, “Nice name. Didn’t give you much of a choice, though, did it?”

Another chuckle. They were starting to dig into your spine like an infestation, straightening out your back and making you both aware and relaxed at once. “I’m not against it, sweetheart,” he responded.

“That’s not my name.”

“Never said it was.”

A moment of silence was shared between you, as you continued to scan the skyline. You weren’t exactly looking for Murdock now, more admiring the look of the smoggy city. The murderer had been on your mind for quite some while now, and it had been taking a toll on your perception of the world – mostly, that you no longer saw it as the place you grew up in, just a bunch of crime scenes waiting to be uncovered. Talking to him made you reminisce on the days that wasn’t so.

“Your turn,” you stated bluntly.

So, Murdock went back to his original question, the one he had tried to ask before you interrupted him. “How did you feel when you saw your friend?”

You sat still, nothing jumping to mind. It might’ve been denial, or maybe you were never really that close with James in the first place, but there had been no sadness when you came face to face with his bleeding body. Only anger. Mild inconvenience. Some part of you hoped it was just the years of working as a detective that desensitized you to murder, but there was something else that told you it was your personality, that you didn’t have that natural predisposition to empathy.

“Pissed off,” you answered after a minute, “I liked the guy, and you went and slit his throat.”

“Not without reason,” came his response, and it didn’t sound as jokey as his other lines had been.

“Nothing ever is – but you didn’t have to kill him.”

Murdock appeared to consider this, before audibly shifting wherever he was. There was a creak around him, indicating that he was inside, but that was a given. No sane person would be caught dead flaunting their murders in public. There was just the question of whether he was indeed sane.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Again, you were stopped short of an answer. There were plenty of emotions you could rule out, and you had definitely felt something, but placing that was harder than finding a dead body in a pile of mannequins. The only thing you could think of was what you answered with. “Determined.”

“To do what?” His interest was piqued, if the change in tone was anything to go by, like a child being read a fantasy book. It was a weird comparison that nearly startled you as you made it.

Unbeknownst to you, while you stared out at the city, Murdock was swaddled in shadows. Every caress of the darkness sent shivers down his spine, and the moonlight carved around his structure. Sitting on the top of a desk – he had always enjoyed the privacy of studies – the blinds struck through beams, as to separate a bright jawline from shaded eyes. A pair of polished sunglasses were caught in one hand, with the phone in another. He had debated using a burner phone, but where was the fun in that, and he enjoyed being able to listen intently with his personal devices into your words.

“Catch you.”

The visible, lower half of his face was stretched into a morbid grin at your response. He had expected nothing less from his favorite detective, but you had a habit of surprising him. He had never been gladder to get you on his case because he’d rather risk getting caught than make his work boring. You were practically the opposite of that, and the anticipation of your future encounters sent a shock of excitement through him. A few more volts and he might have just ‘fried’, as you put it.

“Why all the clues?” Your question reminded him that you were still having a conversation, leading him to perk up again where he sat.

“I got bored—” It was simple, but it was the truth, “—Everything started to repeat: the murder, the police, the motives. You were entertaining, though, I have to give you that.”

“So, what were your motives?” The silence you received was answer enough; you were jumping the gun, and the smirk you could practically feel on Murdock’s face spoke volumes. You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Right, go on.”

“Why don’t you like your directors?”

A laugh forced itself out of you. Not amused, no, it was pitiful and sardonic. “Buddy, you don’t wanna go there.”

“It’s my question, dear.”

Whatever retort about how, again, that was not your name, was interrupted by your own heart. For once, you were acting on whim and not calculated efficiency. There was hardly anyone in the department you could talk to, you family lacked anyone sane enough to understand, and your friends? Half were out of state, and one might have still been lying dead in your office.

So, who better to vent your frustrations to than a notorious serial killer? And vent you did, from unsolved cases lugged onto you constantly, to the ones you did solve being credited to them. Patrick de Gaille left break rooms a smoking mess, all but once sided with the man in domestic abuse situations, and apparently had a kindergarten level education because he could just not understand the concept of personal belongings. David Lochlin was even worse; sexist, racist, homophobic and a world full of other intolerances would sneer at the mere sight of him. The ‘rumors’ of sexual harassment in the workplace turned out to just be stories, all of which were brushed under the carpet and burned, alongside allegations of manipulation and bribery.

All in all, it was a disgrace to be working underneath those two – to your reputation and morality – but what else could you do? Getting Murdock behind bars would help, but there was a 99.9% chance it would be stolen from you at the last second. That, and your skill set, which had been perfected after so many years in the field, was suited to no other legal professions. It was a lose-lose situation, this the very statement you finished your rant with.

Murdock promptly responded, “Noted.”

It gave you pause, just for a second, and then you realized that you had spilled your guts to a guy with no reservations about killing people. You tried not to give him time to process the information, as you quickly jumped to prompt, “Your motives.”

“I think you could figure that one out.” The teasing was heavy in his voice, not least of all because he was right. Technically, you could figure it out with enough cases and overtime, but you might as well have taken advantage of the interview with a serial killer.

“Answer the question, Murdock,” you sighed back.

“I must confess, I love hearing you say my name.”

Mudock was now coming to realise that, maybe, he didn’t just like seeing you get angry. It was a treat for sure, but it was more likely that seeing a redness as stark and dangerous as a wild-fire dart across your face was the thing doing it for him. He had half a mind to run over to your office and kiss you right then and there. Obviously, he held back and stayed sitting on the desk, but it was a thought he shamelessly entertained longer than practical.

Your blunt tone brought him back to the present, “The question.”

Notably, your blush hadn’t yet died down when he looked back to you.

“The thrill of it,” he answered.

“Elaborate.”

“Haven’t you felt it?” A prickling of sadistic excitement crackled down the phone. “When you go into a new case, catch the guy red-handed and twist the cuffs a little too tight?” Breathlessness overtook him, like he was reliving the moment. “I know I have, and it’s exhilarating.” It was as if he could sense your defense building back up, but that meant it had fallen down at some point. He felt giddy at the concept of getting you on his side, though he still needed to be careful. He added on, “And don’t worry, I only target people who deserve it.”

You leaned forward in the chair, bending your stomach over outstretched legs. “What constitutes as ‘deserving’ it?”

You’d lost your formal tone, a role swap Murdock was keen to explore, so he explained, “If they’ve done anything bad. Bribery, adultery, murder, letting a known killer into someone’s room without alerting them, for instance.” Normally, he wouldn’t go for such a simple crime, but James had been a special occasion.

You were thinking the same. “Even if they’ve been coerced?”

“Coercion is just disguised acceptance, love.”

Even though you disagreed, it was woefully easy to understand where he was coming from. Hell, this was the same for most officers in your department, and you were sure they thought similarly of you. However, the idea did stir one question in you.

“How’d you get by this rule, then?” A slight hum was your prompt to go further. “You’re killing people, why is your throat still intact.”

Murdock expected this, and it wasn’t as thought he had been lying about the motive. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a liar. “An executioner, who works for the king, kills tens of people a day. If that executioner stops, tens of murderers get away a day. The choice is clear.”

You hadn’t pegged Murdock as the utilitarian type, but it fit him. A guy like that couldn’t be doing this because he was bored, or for the aesthetic – though you wouldn’t say he didn’t look good doing it.

The corridor was starting to flourish to life, staff members thinking it safe to come out now that the crime scene had been decorated with tape and markers. You wondered if they kept James in there, before shrugging it off in order to continue the conversation. That didn’t feel great, morally, but business was business, and you had a killer to catch.

“You get two,” you reminded, as you rose from your seat to lock the door. “I asked out of turn.”

His question was immediate, “Why are you so keen to stick to the law?”

And your response was simple, “It’s my job.”

“It’s your directors’ jobs, too.”

Flopped back into the chair, you thought about it some more. The first point was true, but it was like a reflex. Nothing deep or extreme, and nothing that revealed more than you had to. Here, in this moment, you were undergoing a transaction, information for information, and you had no qualms about sharing details with Murdock.

“Because too many detectives are like them,” you began, “I haven’t always been on the left side of the court, so to speak. I got done in for a crime I didn’t commit because of an oversight by the police, and if someone like me had been there, I would’ve been able to spend the next year in sunny Beverly Hills, not shoved in some cell like cattle.”

You remembered the day well. It was nothing you liked to dwell on, and the exact events meant little to you. The only thing that you kept close to the chest were the emotions, the pure, unadulterated rage that coursed through your veins as the judge slammed down the hammer. One of the jury rose, announced your guilt with the confidence of a god, and then left. It didn’t matter to them, didn’t matter to the police, but it mattered to you. Perhaps if you had been allowed to live a normal life, you wouldn’t be chasing down criminals for bread and beer. Perhaps you could have had a family, friends, a proper life. Perhaps the most interesting conversation you’ve had in a year wouldn’t had been with the serial killer you were chasing.

“Who was the cop,” that very man asked, sounding lackadaisical but brimming with eagerness.

“Detective Benjamin Hammond. Kicked off the force when I joined and had to become a mailman to get by. Pretty sure he’s had it out for me since then.”

Murdock laughed, “Oh, what could he do against you?”

“Steal nine out of fifteen of my packages.”

Another chuckle fell from his lips, and you caught yourself feeling slightly proud of that. Your grin spread wider, and your shoulders dropped in relaxation. It was confusing to be in the situation that you were, some might even say crazy, but you weren’t against it. You tried to rationalize by telling yourself you were helping the case, but the joking tone and shared experiences hinted at something else.

“Hey,” Murdock whispered, coming out of the carefree mood, “I know it’s not my turn, but I’ve gotta go, so d’ya mind me asking one more question?”

Ignoring the speck of disappointment that appeared in your stomach, you nodded. “Shoot.”

When Murdock said that he was no liar, rest assured he stuck to it. “I’m going to murder Patrick de Gaille and David Lochlin in three days in the theatre on fifth. Their bodies will be in the third room to the right.” He took it as a good sign when you didn’t react, not even a tightening in your fist or a quirk of your mouth – so, he finished the proposal with, “Do you fancy a date?”

A quick succession of thoughts ran through your mind, a stampede of ‘what ifs’, ‘what abouts’ and the like. The idea of warning the two was tossed out as soon as it came, followed quickly by trying to convince Murdock otherwise. Both would be useless, as none would actually listen to you, but that only left one thing to do.

“Sure.”

That single word was like a firework in Murdock’s heart.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he practically sang, a near-unnoticeable coating of disbelief, “I’ll see you at nine, sharp.”

And just like that, the line went dead. You saved his number under his own name, reasoning that only you knew it as of now, and exited back into the hallway, ready and willing to help with the dead body lying still in your office.

You were only interrupted, as you took a step through the doorway, by your phone ringing once more. A guilty, expectant feeling popped up, too, when your reaction was to tease Murdock for calling you back – but you were surprised. Instead of your new acquaintance, it was the routing centre. Considering that you were a detective, it shouldn’t have been too shocked to see a crime reported and directed to you. You pressed the accept button when you got ahold of your bearings.

“Code 1.8.7 at 16 Brick Kiln Street.” Those were the only words you heard that mattered, also because they were the only ones you fully recognised. A code 1.8.7 was murder, a thing you’d become friends with in the last few years, and 16 Brick Kiln Street, well, it was an apartment building. Windows cleaned every week and a door that needed its hinges replaced. Nothing special, a part of the fact it was direct neighbors with your police station.

At least you knew not to use that office again.

The theatre was dismally quiet three days later. You hadn’t called in the murders yet, so it appeared as just any closed building along the road. You knew better, and someone else did, too. Murdock was in there, somewhere, maybe watching you, probably not. A gun stayed strapped to your side, just in case, as you stepped carefully around the entrance hall. Dust flitted about through windows, and the fence separating the stands from the main stage was easily jumped. You were almost surprised they didn’t have nighttime security, but who would want to break into a theatre anyway?

The second that you crossed the threshold, there they were. You couldn’t focus on the ornate decorations along the rug, or the backdrop from the rendition of Macbeth they had yet to put away because, in all their glory, there de Gaille and Lochlin hanged. Rabbits left to bleed out after a hunt, and where else could their wolf be than standing in front of them, hands behind his back and sunglasses covering his eyes. The suit looked good on him, the uneven splotches not so much. The steady drip echoed around the hall, colliding off the wooden pillars and refurbished seats. The room almost seemed made for him; nothing went without a red or black coating, and shadows crept around corners.

“Murdock,” you greeted, hand coming to rest on your weapon. You weren’t planning to discharge it, but intimidation was a tactic you liked to employ.

He didn’t respond. Instead, an ever-present smirk grew wider, and his boots clicked against the wooden flooring like hooves. Slowly, he moved closer, majestic, and primal at the same time. Tap, tap, tap. Eventually, he was so close that you could see your own reflection in the darkness of his glasses. Your face was forcefully blank, and he was still smiling.

“How?” was your next question.

“I slit their throats and stringed them up to the rafters. David was first, and then Patrick heard, and I killed him, too.”

“Why?”

“They undermined you, took advantage of others, committed a number of crimes that we just don’t have the time to get into right now.”

“When?”

“We said nine, sharp, didn’t we?”

Murdock was now barely a few inches away from you, and this being your first time seeing him, only one thought came to mind. Every little detail about his voice corresponded with his physical features. The near-gravel texture spoke of his stubble, and the playful lilt mimicked the smirk, plus a jawline only available to such a deep volume. He looked exactly how you had imagined he would, more that your blurry photo on a corkboard could do justice. That, and he was undeniably hot.

Sighing, you unhooked a pair of handcuffs from your belt – you were still a detective, after all, and you were here on work hours. “Alright, then,” you muttered, half as a warning to him and preparing yourself. The last four months climaxed here, and it was worrying to assume it would be over just like that.

And foolish.

“Did you think I’d make it that easy, love?”

Before you could blink, Murdock was poised back on the stage, a brick-red speck on his shoulder. A glance over his shoulder, and then he was sashaying towards the left wing. It was only when he brushed a hand against the curtain dangling at the side that he spoke.

“Chase me.”

And so, you did. Murdock disappeared into the skeleton of the theatre, your boots echoing down the corridors after him. Always a few steps behind, you’d see the end of his blazer curve around a corner or hear the click of a door when you were seconds away from grasping the handle. Some distant laughter teased you, at once making you think he was everywhere and right beside your ear. You shuddered, in what you hoped was the cold of the underbelly.

Your own soles clattered along the hallways, skidding to a stop as you noticed a slam in the stairwell you had just passed. A two-story building, and, upon running up the first set, the door to the storage floor was bolted shut. Another slam. The roof.

Your first thought was that he had blocked himself off, but you’ve seen enough action movies to know that it wasn’t so straight forward – you also wouldn’t put it past him to jump and somehow survive. So, ignoring your rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing, you climbed up the flight to the small door. It creaked as you pushed through, and you were sure it cracked when it banged closed behind you again.

If Murdock had a way off the roof, he had yet to use it. He stood, back to you, and was almost camouflaged by the night sky. Stars flickered and shimmered, but they warped around him, as if artificially avoiding the malicious aura he put out.

“You didn’t go far,” you stated, hand hovering over the handcuffs once more.

He didn’t respond to that, and, instead, spoke with a glance over his shoulder, “For a detective, you sure do wind quickly.”

“So, this is a kindness, is it?”

Your bluntness amused him, that much was obvious when a laugh struck out from his throat. “Would it be so bad?”

Risking a step closer, you bit back a smile as he stayed planted to the concrete. The little exercise wasn’t going to damage your ability to wrap metal around someone’s wrists. However, the confident smirk on Murdock’s face gave you pause. You wagered skeptically, “I’m assuming you won’t go this easily.”

Another, shorter laugh drained into the frigid wind. It was colder now, than it had been when you’d first arrived at the theatre, and you hoped it was the reason why the hair on your arms pricked up and blood flooded to your face. “No, my dear,” he answered, “but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”

The quirk of an eyebrow was the only prompt he needed. “Your police friends, do they know where you are right now?” This time, he was the one grinning; you were still, not even shivering in the air or flinching at how close he was beginning to come. Maybe it was instinct to freeze, or maybe it was the realization that no one was coming to help you, or, as he wished, maybe it was simply your reaction to him that stunned you.

Murdock halted inches away from you. “And I know you won’t turn me in, so what’s wrong with staying here for a bit longer?” A finger shifted underneath your chin, lifted it up slightly and then left as quickly as it had arrived. His smile remained. “The company’s nice.”

You would be lying if you said that your heart continued at a normal pace, but you couldn’t let it bother you. Murdock was so close that you could practically feel his breath on your mouth, you just needed to move your hand slightly and he’d be in cuffs.

But you found yourself unable to move, looking out through your eyes as if a ghost and the body you once inhabited the immoveable dead. That might as well have been so, given the way your heart thudded against your chest and easily missed the most crucial of beats.

Murdock moved closer, one hand coming to rest against your waist and the other tapping against the nape of your neck. There was no use denying the sparks that shot down your spine, and pretending it was just because of the cold was a fool’s venture.

“Come on, snake, let’s rattle.”

And so was passing off the feeling of Murdock’s lips against your own as anything other than euphoric. The adrenaline spiking your veins doubled, and the sounds of the city dropped to a dull bustle. He used his hand to push you closer, manipulate your head in a way that made you willfully move into him. Your chests collided, your belt stirred, and pressure danced up and down your side. Some distant part of you yelled that this was wrong, so, so wrong – but a closer, intimate part, so convincing that Murdock could have been the one to say it, whispered that it was okay. For now, you could enjoy the spins of your stomach, the weight of his lips against yours, the near groan he let out when you bit against his skin.

The kiss lasted no more than twenty seconds, and yet, it felt like a century on that rooftop. You wished that it would last longer, but, when you were forced apart by the overwhelming need to breath, you were starkly denied both that and to look upon Murdock anymore that night. The space he had occupied was gone, exchanged for a vacuum that swirled with the suns and light. Delivered out of your haze, you also noted the missing pull of your gun. Your hand rushed to check, and there was no mistaking that it was gone, though, in place of it, was a card snagged in the holster.

The Serotonin Serial Killer’s calling card.

It was on that spot that you vowed you would never let him get away again, and it was from the street below that Murdock wished you a very good night, lips pressed to the barrel of your gun.

You were gorgeous when you were angry.

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