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Why Do People Like Yanderes?
Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.
TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.
Introduction
If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).
It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.
Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?
Hybristophilia
‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):
“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”
In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.
However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:
Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them
If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.
Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.
(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)
After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”
But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.
Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.
The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.
The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.
Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?
The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)
It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.
PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.
But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.
In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.   
Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?
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I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?
No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.
This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.
So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.
When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.
While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.
Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.     
Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)
Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.
In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?
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If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”
Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.
Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.
Conclusion
In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.
Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below
REFERENCES
Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406
Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191
DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545
Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123
Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212
Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture
Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.
Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf
Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092
Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.
Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101
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dreaming-medium · 4 months
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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Praise Kink - Hyunjin
Word Count: 11.7K
Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.
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You have officially run out of red string. 
The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore. 
Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case. 
It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing. 
It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught. 
But these sort of things take time. 
And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one. 
Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one. 
Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board. 
“Come in!” You call out. 
The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor. 
“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”
Your mood curdles like milk. 
“What do you want, Hwang?”
Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.  
Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to. 
The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met. 
He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against. 
“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.” 
The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe. 
You haven’t even finished going through the last stack. 
“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”
You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face. 
He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks. 
Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it. 
“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.” 
Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers. 
Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board. 
He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment. 
The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall. 
What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point. 
Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep. 
Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?
Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface. 
He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him. 
“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”
His mouth shuts, a smirk appears. 
Oh, you want to smack it off his face. 
“I was only going to say—“
“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away. 
“L/N—“ he tries again. 
“Shut it!”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door. 
You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him. 
He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack. 
“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice. 
A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils�� at the door. 
It shuts before the cup makes contact. 
Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more. 
You slam your head down onto the wood desk. 
“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”
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“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”
You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled. 
Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute. 
He hums and leaves the room. 
You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them. 
About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate. 
To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.
The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short. 
As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks. 
The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns. 
Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body. 
The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases. 
“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair. 
Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 
You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt. 
You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.
“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”
You deflate. 
“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”
Your jaw clenches. 
So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it. 
And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it. 
“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”
You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.” 
“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”
“Detective Lee?”
“Busy.”
“Officer Yang?”
“He’s not even a detective.”
“What about Detective Seo?”
Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side. 
You sink back in the chair. 
“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”
“Zip it, Hwang.”
Hyunjin scoffs. 
Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”
You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.
“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”
Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you. 
It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t. 
“Fine.”
“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”
He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair. 
“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”
He makes his way towards the door. 
“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”
You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile. 
“Best of luck, detectives.”
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The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth. 
Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now. 
You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail. 
College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there. 
Each victim is about two weeks apart. 
A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon. 
Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—
“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”
Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”
He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”
You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.  
“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”
Her autopsy stares up at you. 
“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”
You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details. 
“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”
Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue. 
Plates clatter in the kitchen.  
Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file. 
“You said they all go to the same school?”
“Yeah, the community college.”
“Did they all study the same thing?”
You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”
Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window. 
Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”
“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear. 
You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff. 
“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”
Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?
Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look. 
He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.
“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”
You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?
The golden child strikes again. 
“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”
He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table. 
Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”
If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head. 
“So do you have a list—“
You interrupt him. “Yeah.”
“Can you—“
“Mhmm.”
You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table. 
“Where are you going?” He asks you. 
“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”
Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”
You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him. 
“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”
“Tomorrow? But what about—“
“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom. 
“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”
“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”
The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced. 
Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward. 
“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”
He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face. 
And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out. 
“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind. 
---------------------------------------
Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door. 
You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow. 
The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM. 
“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now. 
The knocking persists.
With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door. 
You flip on a light on your way there. 
Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour. 
You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it. 
“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment. 
“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again. 
Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island. 
“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”
“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”
He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath. 
His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow. 
It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top. 
“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere. 
You come up to the table and look down at everything. 
Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here. 
You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.
It’s going to be a long night.
“I’ll make coffee.”
---------------------------------------
Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.
After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly. 
He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”
Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal. 
Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule. 
Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule. 
“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”
“Which class?”
“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”
“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.
“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”
Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”
You pull out a sticky note and write down that info. 
“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”
Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”
---------------------------------------
You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass. 
A near ninety year old man sat on the other side. 
“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence. 
“So.”
“It can’t be him.”
“Obviously.”
Another long moment of silence. 
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”
You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely. 
They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee. 
“My case. I’ll do it.”
“ Our case.”
“Shut it, Hwang.”
You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm. 
The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners. 
You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”
Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever. 
Arthritis. 
“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”
You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”
He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”
He shakes his head. 
“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”
You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”
Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”
You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.
“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass. 
“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”
He shifts around, he really thinks about it. 
“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”
You scribble that down and stand up. 
“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”
He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”
“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card. 
You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving. 
When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around. 
You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
---------------------------------------
Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration. 
They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier. 
It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island. 
Another pot of coffee is brewing. 
“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes. 
You run your hands through your hair. 
“So, four graduate students.”
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’. 
“Do we have any information on the four students?”
“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”
You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”
A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in. 
“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file. 
“I agree.”
He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”
“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”
“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”
You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”
He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”
Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”
“Oh.”
Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”
Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”
Is he serious?
You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”
“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”
“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”
He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”
Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”
“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. 
Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?
“Choke.”
Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly. 
“Detective L/N.” 
“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear. 
Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.
“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”
“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad. 
“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand. 
“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues. 
“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper. 
Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again. 
Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”
Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly. 
Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone. 
“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes. 
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”
“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away. 
“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely. 
“I’m doing very well, thank you.”
You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.
The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”
“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time. 
You sneer and push his face away. 
“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up. 
Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin. 
“You could've put it on speaker.” 
“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him. 
Hyunjin only laughs and catches it. 
“Putting more coffee on?”
“Obviously.”
---------------------------------------
“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you. 
While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well. 
The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle. 
You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything. 
The exams spread over the table were the best lead. 
“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief. 
“Eric Rowan.” 
“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off. 
“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”
Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something. 
You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?
Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”
He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision. 
The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening. 
It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home. 
“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly. 
One tutor from the library at the university. 
It would make sense. 
Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included. 
You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead. 
One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.  
It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time. 
Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions. 
You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside. 
Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time. 
Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up. 
“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that��� L/N?”
Your head snaps up and you sniffle. 
“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse. 
He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”
You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.” 
Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more. 
“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.
“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”
You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”
The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before. 
Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall. 
“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”
You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood. 
You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before. 
With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. “Women’s intuition.”
For the first time, you have no response for him. 
As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill. 
Your lips stay sealed. 
“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”
Your mind is reeling. 
Did he just compliment you again?
Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips. 
“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”
A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.
“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”
There’s no way he said that. 
He’s jealous of you?
And did he just call you by your first name?
He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once. 
“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”
Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door. 
“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”
He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned. 
He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared. 
Nothing. 
You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time. 
But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him. 
Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms. 
Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought? 
Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often. 
---------------------------------------
Hours and hours and hours have gone by. 
Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours. 
The bags under your eyes feel like bruises. 
Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass. 
Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets. 
His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes. 
He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve. 
You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.
If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated. 
Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table. 
“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table. 
“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”
“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”
“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”
Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file. 
Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”
He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps. 
“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing;  I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”
Eric’s eye twitches. 
Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook. 
“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”
Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat. 
Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward. 
Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden? 
Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently. 
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”
Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”
Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie. 
“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”
So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression. 
“No,” he grits out. 
An obvious lie.
“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”
Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture. 
“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”
You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror. 
Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.
More pieces fall into place. 
“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth. 
Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head. 
“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”
“That’s not—“
“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”
“I-I didn’t—“
“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.
Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping. 
“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath. 
Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it. 
It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue. 
“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”
“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table. 
He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table. 
Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on. 
“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”
Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.
“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table. 
A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene. 
“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate. 
Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving. 
“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs. 
The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists. 
“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”
Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric. 
“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”
“Stop, stop!”
“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”
“ Stop! ”
“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”
Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs. 
“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“
“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”
The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt. 
Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff. 
And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window. 
It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen. 
“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”
He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric. 
Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair. 
Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water. 
Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.
---------------------------------------
It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks. 
Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over. 
Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case. 
Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case. 
So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it. 
More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath. 
There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks. 
“Come in, Hwang!” you call out. 
The door opens and shuts. 
“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.
You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly. 
His soft footsteps pad up behind you. 
“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder. 
You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”
Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was. 
You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop. 
Hyunjin doesn’t move. 
“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice. 
Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest. 
“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”
Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”
“Hm?”
“What did you think of the interrogation?”
So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier. 
But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus. 
“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”
He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter. 
Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline. 
“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”
Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?
The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago. 
He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne. 
“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”
“ We got the guy, L/N.”
“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”
He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it. 
“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”
Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock. 
Fuck. 
Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever. 
His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model. 
You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens. 
“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”
The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”
He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands. 
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling. 
“Yes. But they’re not you. ”
Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more. 
But does he really?
Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no. 
Nothing of the sort tumbles out. 
The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring. 
His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.
Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain. 
The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze. 
Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you. 
A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively. 
“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”
How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?
A small boost of confidence courses through your veins. 
“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.
Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss. 
He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless. 
Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.
“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips. 
You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight. 
Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body. 
At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.
“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”
Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch. 
“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.
Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all. 
Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.” 
Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”
Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head. 
Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.
“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”
His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale. 
You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches. 
“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.
You smirk. “You can.”
When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light. 
From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.
He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.
You chuckle.
“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”
Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.
He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver. 
Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.
“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.
One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.
His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.
Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.
“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”
The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity. 
“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”
Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple. 
You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans. 
Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact. 
The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane. 
“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest. 
When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting. 
“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”
His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him. 
With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again. 
You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another. 
“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”
He whines.
“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”
Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions. 
“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm. 
The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash. 
His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck. 
Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey. 
Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.
Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.
Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.
Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build. 
“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”
Your heart thuds in your chest. 
He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.
The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly. 
Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.
He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.
Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.
Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.
An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.
Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.
Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”
He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you. 
With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock. 
Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch. 
“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”
Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder. 
The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.
A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.
“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”
Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.
It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .
One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.
Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus. 
With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his. 
He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.
You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.
Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.
Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit. 
Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.
“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”
Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.
Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.
“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”
“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.
“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”
He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers. 
“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.
Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?
“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane. 
His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch. 
“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock. 
The head is red and angry and weeping precum.
His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”
Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.
He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time. 
You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back. 
“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. 
Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.
He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response. 
“ Please! ” He whimpers. 
“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear. 
Another stutter of his hips.
“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”
Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.
“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”
Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance. 
To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.
“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”
After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact. 
“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”
You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.
“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”
His face twists up with another moan. 
Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you. 
While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.
Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.
“I-I’m not going to last–”
You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”
His eyes practically roll back in his head.
As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,
He might not be thick but god, he is long .
With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.
Both of you moan out together.
Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.
The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.
Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you. 
“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.
Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.
“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”
With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.
His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.
A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.
If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.
“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!” 
Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.
“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face. 
“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.” 
Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?
“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”
Oh, fuck.
You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.
Closer and closer you come to the edge.
He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more. 
He needs it so bad. 
“Y/N! Please! ”
Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.
“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”
The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans. 
His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down. 
Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.
Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.
He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.
Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.
After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones. 
The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before. 
“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.
He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.
“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”
He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”
You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.
In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.
There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.
Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”
You couldn’t agree more.
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How bout angel dust, Verosika and Alastor with a puppy hybrid s/o? Like, they have puppy ears and tail and has some dog like tendencies?
For example: they love to bite and play with dog toys,they bark and growl, they LOVE headpats and being called "good boy/girl"
You can remove 2 characters if it's too much.
"Good Puppy!" ; Alastor, Angel Dust, Verosika Mayday
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I'll be honest here: I have no idea how you got this to happen, because this man absolutely HATES dogs, and therefore hated you when he first met you. And he's honestly quite possibly the worst one to be with as a puppy hybrid.
He was exceptionally cruel, calling you a "mangey mongrel", a "rabid mutt", and just about any cruel name for a dog under the sun.
Will try to make you act more human. He'd despise your dog features. Dogs remind him of his death, and that's something he'd rather not deal with.
If you've managed to start dating him, he'll be slightly more polite, but still make his distaste for those features very apparent to you.
"S/O, must you constantly be wiggling that furry abomination?"
It isn't that he means to be mean, but, well, in some primal way, you scare him, and he doesn't know how to cope with feeling that helpless.
If you growl or bark at him, you will ROYALLY piss him off, and he will actually need to leave to avoid either lashing out at you or having a mental breakdown.
Fortunately, with enough time and patience, he will eventually calm down and begin to regard you as safe, and not someone he needs to fear. Then he'll become noticeably kinder to you.
"Well, aren't you just a dandy little pup! Excited to see me, hm? Such a good boy/girl~."
He may have started off cold, but he's trying to be better for you now.
He isn't sure how he feels about dog toys and the like, but hey, he's a literal cannibal and serial killer, who is he to judge? As long as you're having fun.
Eventually, he'll begin to give you those headpats you so crave, realizing how happy it makes you. He can stand a bit of discomfort for your sake.
But seriously... please don't bark or growl at him, he still doesn't like the moment of panic he's forced to feel when that happens.
He wouldn't do it to you, so don't do it to him. That's his one boundary with your dog-like behavior/appearance.
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Oh boy. He'd be the one constantly flirting and teasing you for your traits, but in a loving (and very NSFW) manner.
"What's with the tail, Ears? Got a pet play kink or somethin'?"
When he finds out you ACTUALLY enjoy being called a good boy, that actually sets off every single one of his teasing instincts.
Every single day, you'll hear a joke about you having a praise kink, purely because it makes Angel laugh.
But he's only teasing, of course. If you actually tell him you're uncomfortable, of course he'll stop. The last thing he wants is for you to feel uncomfortable with him.
He'll also get you dog toys and chew toys if you find them fun!
And his absolute favorite thing to do is pet your ears and ruffle your tail, especially if they're as fluffy as his chest is! He finds the sensation soothing.
If you growl at him, chances are he'll growl back at you just to mess with you.
Or he'll make a claw motion and do the little "rawr~" thing because he finds it amusing how you react when you don't know how to respond to something.
He'll also definitely tease you if your tail ever wags.
"That a tail or are ya just happy ta see me, baby boy~?"
He's a tease but... very sweet. Toward you, at least.
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At first, she didn't really see the appeal of dating a puppy hybrid. She treats Vortex like a guard dog, and she initially expected you to be the same.
But of course, who could resist a cute puppy? She quickly warmed up to you, finding you absolutely adorable. Whereas Verosika is sultry and seductive, you were cute and innocent, and she loved that about you.
She'd often find herself petting your head and telling you what a good boy/girl you were, seemingly without actually consciously meaning to. She just couldn't resist, the puppy eyes were too much for her!
"Aww, S/O! Such a good boy/girl! Who's my good boy/girl? You are! Yes you are!"
Yeah, even after you start dating, that doesn't change. She still calls you that, but her affections now run even deeper.
As in, she buys you a LOT of dog toys. A lot. She doesn't know why you love them so much, but she knows she wants you to be happy, because you absolutely deserve it.
She's also greatly amused whenever you bark or growl, but shh, don't tell anyone. That isn't part of her persona!
Sometimes, when you're cuddling, she'll wrap her tail around yours and slowly wag them both, since she knows it both stimulates you and expresses affection.
She'd also probably use your barking and growling to her advantage to scare people she doesn't like off. Nine times out of ten, it works. Dogs can be pretty scary when they're not being friendly actively, and puppies are no different.
"That was amazing, S/O. You really know how to scare a little bitch off!"
You didn't really mean to scare anyone, but you were happy Verosika was happy.
She did send that person an apology note at your insistence, though, luckily.
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lolomidi · 2 months
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The Price of Entertainment: An Episode-By-Episode Analysis of Alastor's Facade
I don’t think any character in Hazbin Hotel has been discussed as much as Alastor, and it’s a testament to how much the writers put in his character that the mystery of his intentions, past, and contract have been so debated on.
There are some takes I vehemently disagree with, but something a lot of people seem to have settled on is that Alastor is, behind his massive ego and cool-headed persona, insecure about his place in Hell after his long “sabbatical.” I want to do an episode-by-episode analysis of Alastor’s behavior and how Season 1 shifts our view of him from an unquestionably powerful Overlord to something with more depth, and while I won’t be speculating on who owns his soul and how he’ll break that contract in those post, I will take a guess at the future of his character in a narrative sense. I will also implicitly be addressing my issues with some of the conclusions others have made, or at least playing devil's advocate.
NOTE: I want to clarify that none of this is meant to depict Alastor as some poor woobie. He’s still awful. He’s in Hell for several reasons and being a serial killer is only one of them. Rather, I want to analyze what is shown to us about him, and how those story beats can be used to determine where he’ll end up by the finale of the series.
ALSO NOTE: I haven’t followed all of VivziePop’s comments outside of the show about the characters, and it’s possible that certain details have been changed between the release of the pilot and the show, so take any mentions of what hasn’t been explicitly depicted within the show with a grain of salt.
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Part 1: Recap Analysis
This section will consist of commentary regarding Alastor's appearance and behavior in the given episodes, with retrospection based on new information given in later episodes if needed.
“Overture”: Alastor is pretty one-to-one with his depiction in the pilot in the first episode. He’s snarky, open about his sadism, but helpful if begrudgingly so. Interestingly, he’s able to put together a well-edited, if tonally awful, commercial, and probably could have done better if he weren’t intentionally being an ass about it. From the finale we know that he and Vox likely used to have a more magnanimous relationship, and it’s likely that he picked up some tools of the digital trade in that time despite or before being turned off completely by it.
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“Radio Killed the Video Star”: Vox effectively plays heel for Alastor this episode as we continue that first impression of the Radio Demon. We spend a good time showing off the former’s power and how far his roots have spread throughout Hell’s society, only for Alastor to effortlessly trounce him and steal from his audience, despite being gone for so long and his position in Hell less stable. This indicates that Alastor does still have pull, but at the same time that his position in the hierarchy of Hell is being contested due to the length of his absence. He deals with it easily here, but we’ll see in subsequent episodes that things aren’t as smooth as they first seem.
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“Scrambled Eggs”: In terms of the eggs, there’s not much to talk about. He begrudgingly accepts Vaggie’s request to get rid of them “humanely,” but brings them back to the hotel after they prove to be useful spies.
More importantly, we get our first small hint that Alastor’s ego can be bruised when Carmilla doesn’t humor him during the meeting between Overlords. Now, I actually disagree with a lot of the takes on this episode in that I think it indicates that at least some of Alastor’s views and need to prove himself as a powerful Overlord are the result of self-delusion. Yes, he does need to reestablish himself as a person not to be messed with after being gone for so long, but I think it isn’t as bad as some are making it out to be, which makes his behavior in later episodes more strange and excessive if anything.
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Carmilla, who mind you is a busy and stressed woman trying to hide the fact that she’s successfully murdered an angel, hits his ego by not caring where he’s been (something he wouldn’t have revealed in the first place), but she also welcomes him back, which is more than you could say to Velvette and by extension the Vees. And minutes before that, Zestial, who’s probably the highest on their totem pole, does go out of his way to meet with Alastor and inquire about where he’s been. Alastor himself gets over the slight pretty quickly and has no issue contributing to the meeting. Overall, he isn’t necessarily terrifying other overlords, but he still has an established place with them and they do seem to get along well enough. He’s “part of the group” unlike the Vees, who are treated more like upstart outsiders.
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I also want to point out that despite Zestial likely outranking Alastor in power, they seem to be alright with each other. Alastor is cordial and does not demonstrate a desire to antagonize him like he does Lucifer in the next episode. Speaking of which…
“Dad Beat Dad”: This episode gives us a lot to chew on and is the first major indicator that Alastor’s issues go beyond wanting to be the center of the room. From the very moment Lucifer walks into the hotel*, his eye is twitching and he is visibly pissed. Lucifer undermining him (notably contrasting Zestial, who is polite despite his power) doesn’t help and makes Alastor let loose his first swear in the entire show. Being the petty bitch he is, Alastor, knowing he can’t intimidate Lucifer in any way, immediately goes for his weak point–Charlie–and plays up the role of a caretaker for her and the hotel. It’s a low blow, but it also feels like a defense–he’s signaling to Lucifer that this is his hotel, that things are taken care of already, and that they do not need his assistance, even though they ultimately do in order to get a meeting with Heaven.
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But then things get more complicated with the appearance of Mimzy, who, to the surprise of several characters due to his solitary nature, was friends with Alastor all the way back when they were alive, and she carries a load of implications with her. She’s the only crack so far at what a “human” Alastor is like–apparently he’s a heavyweight drinker, a good dancer, and most notably, in Mimzy’s words, a sweet man who "becomes a kitten" when he's drunk. This is a huge departure from the unflappable, egotistical Radio Demon we’ve known up to now, and I think it’s a purposeful choice that we’re hearing this information but not shown it like his early days in Hell just prior. It’s simultaneously left to the imagination but difficult to do so because it contrasts so heavily with everything that has been shown to us beforehand. Another thing is that Mimzy is sure that Alastor will clean up her mess–and apparently this isn’t the first time he has, if Husk is anything to go by. So many people seem to miss this, but Alastor, who hates being tied down or disrespected, has been allowing Mimzy to leech off of him, presumably due to their past friendship making him turn a blind eye.
Alastor is on edge for this entire episode and is already unusually snappy when Husk addresses Mimzy, and pushing the button that was his contract is what sends him over the edge. His temper exploding is a direct result of his feeling that his control over both the hotel (via Lucifer) and his personal life (via Husk’s “doubt” that he can handle everything and that his reputation is what it used to be, plus the reminder of his deal) is being taken away from him. Alastor’s threat to Husk, which seems to not be his usual behavior if Husk’s willingness to show concern and talk back in the first place is anything to go by, is an attempt to remind both of them that he holds the cards, that he’s a powerful Overlord that is not to be trifled with, and he explicitly says as much when he goes out to deal with what Mimzy’s dragged in.
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It’s only after he lets his anger out on the mobsters and “proves himself” that he visibly calms down and makes the logical decision to tell Mimzy to leave with a serious attitude, and also doesn’t antagonize anyone for the rest of the episode. It seems like despite his fury earlier, he was listening to Husk, who’s rightfully smug about it. He’s even present when Charlie declares her desire to protect her people, and his smile seems just a tad bit more genuine.
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*Note: it’s not impossible that Alastor has some sort of personal grudge against Lucifer which caused his hate-on-first-sight, depending on the circumstances of his disappearance and contract (i.e. if it’s with Lilith).
“Hello Rosie!”: As opposed to Dad Beat Dad, Hello Rosie is arguably where we see Alastor at his most in-his-element. He gives off a lot of conflicting vibes at the beginning, from mocking Charlie’s distress to, in a shockingly honest moment, lecturing her about the importance of a smile to portray strength, a card we’d only been shown due to comments outside of the show. He smugly holds his knowledge over Charlie’s head but is visibly impatient to have her make a blank check of a deal with him, solid enough to benefit him but vague enough so that Charlie won’t feel immediately threatened. He’s clearly been waiting for an opportunity like this since the events of the pilot.
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After that, he puts back on his gentleman’s demeanor and introduces Charlie to Rosie, and from here on he’s arguably at his most comfortable in the entire show. He’s relaxed around Rosie and is actually willing to ask for her help (something I can’t see him doing with any other character), casually complains about Susan, is encouraging to and praises Charlie even behind her back, and most notably, gives her his radio cane unprompted. More on that later. He also mentioned wanting to guide Charlie to Rosie specifically, implying that he was being genuine about wanting to act as a mentor to her, though his intentions are probably self-beneficial.
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“The Show Must Go On”: The finale is arguably the most revealing episode on what Alastor’s inner world is like, as we see him unmasked several times. For one, his private admission to Niffty, the closest thing he has to a friend within the hotel, that he’s enjoyed watching the other residents connect to each other. This is in direct opposition to his initial (stated) reason for helping the hotel in that he wanted to watch them all fail, and yet he seems content with his initial assumptions being proven wrong. There’s no malice or sarcasm in this moment, he’s relaxed and talking to someone he relatively trusts.
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And so he goes into the battle swinging and confident. Then, of course, Adam.
I want to bring up something before we keep going. Yes, fighting Adam without angelic weaponry was a needless risk. Yes, Alastor fell victim to the very sloppiness and arrogance he accused Adam of, and it’s thematically appropriate that he was the only one to lose his battle in that he was fighting for his own ego more than “love.” But also, people seem to forget that Alastor is the only demon in the entire show with a precedent for permakilling without an explicit reliance on angelic weaponry, as the Overlords he toppled in his original rampage seem to have never returned. He’s egotistical, but not stupid. He may have genuinely believed that he had the means to kill Adam himself but didn’t get the chance/couldn’t due to his contract or absence possibly weakening him. But that's speculation for another day.
So, he has to retreat before Adam double-taps his ass and is too injured to return until after the extermination. He makes a grand exit, but not before grabbing the broken pieces of his radio cane. The one he allowed Charlie to use just an episode prior, and presumably is a conduit for his powers, and he grabs it while a murderous angel is inches away from wiping him off the face of Hell.
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His portion of “Finale” is the first time we see him singing alone and not playing off someone in a duet. It’s obvious that he’s trying to keep his composure, still speaking to himself in his artificial transatlantic accent (which we now know for a fact he doesn't need to do, seeing as he finally broke character when Adam wrecked his cane) and reassuring himself that he’ll come out on top next time. But here his front shatters and we openly see what the show has been hinting he is for the first time: a deeply paranoid, desperate, and unstable man.
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Essentially the worst-case scenario has happened: after a season of interfering with every attempt to capture him on camera, Vox has footage of him at his lowest point for all of Hell to see, and he’ll have “died” a martyr, a weakling, and still in the chains of an unwanted contract. For Alastor, who is so deeply afraid of showing any sign of vulnerability, who wants to be seen as a monstrous Overlord, it’s understandable that this humiliation is enough to send him into a mental spiral and recant any fondness for the hotel in favor of accomplishing his own goals. Worse yet, when we next see him he gives zero indication of any of this even when Charlie and company are simply glad that he's alive, which leaves us to wonder: has he been like this behind the smile from the very beginning?
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Part 2: Closing Thoughts and Future Speculation
With everything we’ve taken note of above, we can start to piece together a picture of who this guy is, and what the writers are going to do with him.
Alastor is sentimental. It’s not just his attachment to older technology or his love for being the center of everyone's attention. He likes being around people, he has friends, one of which he continuously indulged despite her using him multiple times, and he ultimately was starting to enjoy his time at the hotel before his defeat spooked him. Despite him using her, the fact that he was even willing to let Charlie use his cane (and note that he takes it from her as soon as she’s given a substitute, so that is a significant gesture for him) is an implicit display of trust whose implications don’t become apparent until the finale.
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But this is paired with deep insecurity. Alastor, despite being one of the most powerful people in the Pride Ring, has a crippling fear of being seen as vulnerable or “lesser” by others. There could be multiple overlapping reasons for this: the general climate of Hell, whatever happened to him seven years ago, his experiences as a mixed-race human living in Prohibition-era Louisiana, his original death, a natural predisposition, etc.
Regardless, this anxiety of his is so overwhelming that, when paired with the ever-present stress of not owning his own soul, it’s driving him insane. He made a splash in Hell upon entry and now he’s desperately trying to reinvoke that in order to defend himself both physically and mentally. He’s the gifted kid who’s slowly going nuts trying to keep up an impossible momentum as they grow older. He’s an ex-human denying his humanity because he doesn’t want to feel human. Everyone’s out to get him, and anyone who could be an enemy is an enemy unless he has total control over them via a contract, power, or the reassurance of years of close friendship. It’s why he’s cordial to Zestial but takes Carmilla (who wasn't even trying to spite him) and Lucifer’s comments personally, in the same way someone with low self-esteem might want to lash out against an authority figure who they feel is looking down on them.
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Worse yet, he can’t/won’t let these feelings out and is bottling them up so that no one will know he feels this way (note how quickly he was able to relax in Dad Beat Dad when he was given an outlet for his stress), because that’s a sign of weakness too. It’s honestly kind of frightening that in his final scene he gives zero indication of being injured or of just having had a meltdown. By all outside accounts, he’s his usual chipper self, and no one at the hotel save for maybe Husk, who can’t say anything Alastor doesn’t want him to, would realize anything is amiss. The reason his part of “Finale” is chilling isn’t just because of the implications that he will become an antagonist in the future–it’s that his mental state is so poor that he is no longer acting rationally, which makes him unpredictable in the worst possible way.
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I think Alastor’s character arc isn’t going to be redemption by way of going to Heaven, I don't think that place is his style anyway, but rather redemption of his own self-image. I don’t think the writers would make what is arguably the most popular and well-developed character in the show just to say that he’s hopelessly evil and simply end it at that. We’ve been exposed to multiple facets of his character, and while his deeds and probably his intentions are sinister, his underlying motivation for it all seems to be “freedom,” which decidedly isn’t (unless your name is Eren Jaeger).
I do believe that he’ll have his villain moment where he indulges in his worst impulses, but that ultimately it won’t do anything to fulfill him, because as we see in the official comics before the release of the show (which may no longer be canon but still give a viable “baseline” for the characters), when his desire to be feared and respected is granted, it only isolates him. Like the others, he’ll have to hit rock bottom before he can climb back up.
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Pentious, who was successfully redeemed, needed to understand that people weren’t out to get him, which allowed him to make the decision to put his friends before himself and trigger his selfless sacrifice. Angel, who’s well on his way to redemption, needed to realize he wasn’t alone and could rely on others, and his confidence and self-love has grown enormously since then. I think these are both lessons Alastor will need to learn eventually as well. He’s the manager of the hotel, but also undoubtedly a patient. He’s hungry for freedom, but only when he learns these lessons will he be truly free.
Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it idk lmaooooo
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nashaalya · 20 days
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some fun fax about vampires in Balkan folklore—
the term vampire was originally applied to any corpse not buried in accordance with local burial rites; proto-slavic *ǫpirǐ, while etymologically ambigious, appears to derive from *ǫ-pirǐ, 'without fire; unburned', in reference to corpses that hadn't been cremated. most powers nowadays associated with vampires were in fact first ascribed to witches (cf. romanian strigoi), who were thought to rise as vampires at death
you're probably underestimating how much like mortals folkloric vampires were thought to be—there's records of them moving into their old houses, eating and drinking mortal food, and being both sexually active and able to sire children. this is not to say they weren't thought of as malevolent; their children were often fucked up (and/or became vampires at death themselves), and an oft-cited hazard was vampires copulating with former spouses until they didn't die of exhaustion
the idea of vampires arising as a pre-scientific explanation for epidemics is broadly correct, but probably too precise: just about any chain of unexplainable deaths could've led to bouts of vampire hysteria, including what we'd today recognise as serial murder
an important function of vampires as a stock folkloric character (at least among the south slavs) appears to had been to act as an explanation for extramarital conception and natal deformities—cf. reports of vampires ravishing women they were attracted to in life, and the idea the offspring of a vampire with a mortal woman will be born without bones or nails and die shortly after birth. i suppose one could draw a comparison w germanic changelings
given the number of 'miracle pregnancies' blamed on vampires, i can't help but wonder what does that say abt mr yeshua...
folkloric vampires ordinarily drank blood from the heart, not the neck (if they even consumed blood at all); i think this is something that got carried over into early anglophone vampire fiction—consider carmilla leaving bite marks above laura's heart in carmilla (1872). why did later portrayals shift to them drinking from the neck, i can't say—drinking directly from the heart seems inordinately more romantic
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coentinim · 1 month
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Sweetest Perfection...
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...to call my own. James and his curious ghost body.
Contains: ADULT CONTENT. MDNI. Sexual content, body worship/exploring, James is on the subby/more passive side here (+masochistic), comparing him to a dead body a few times, mentions of murder, reader has a thing for his neck gash, reader is absolutely smitten.
Longest fic yet. A bit of character analysis sprinkled in? Oh and first ever porn fic <3 pls lmk what you think!
@feefymo @nahoyasboyfriend @taintandviolent @fear-is-truth @silverzoomies (?)
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James was a secretive man - he rarely showed geniuine emotion and never appeared without his three piece suit. And even though he looked dashingly handsome in it, you couldn't help but wonder...
Even while intimate with you, he never disrobed fully. Most times, he just pulled his dress pants down and took you in the heat of the moment, be it after a stressful event or particularly exciting kill. He has seen, touched, kissed, and probably cut every single crevice of your body, traced every scar and all delicate gooseflesh, dug his nails into every possible surface. Yet, you were deprived of such pleasure, as he always covered at least parts of himself. If his torso was visible for a second, he was wearing pants. If his lower half was bare, he had an undershirt on. Truly, it wouldn't hurt him to just show himself!
He rarely rested with you, usually opting for giving you an exaggerated goodnight kiss and leaving, sometimes watching you sleep and entrancing himself with your calm pulse and breathing - he loved your life. But tonight, he felt unusually calm and satisfied with the day, resting on the bed next to you and gently threading through your hair. He stared off into space, allowing your body close to his, relishing your lively warmth against his cold. His breath was audible, but his heartbeat hardly present, making him seem like a cadaver incapable of movement and thought. The impression of a corpse was amplified by the open wound on his lower neck; he usually made sure to cover it with a cravat or a button-up, but now he lied there in just an undershirt and boxers, making the disgusting gash visible. It enticed you. It looked delicious.
You were entranced. Tracing every muscle and vein on his arm, carefully. For such a vulgar, degenerate serial killer, he was strangely uncomfortable with human touch. You figured it was a control thing, that he must hate vulnerability, and you smiled at the thought - how human he was despite it all! You dared not interrupt his reverie with anything but slight touches on his arms and glances at the gore on his neck. And then he looked at you, his empty eyes glinting.
"You seem awfully curious, dear"
You jumped at his sudden words. You were under the impression that he was asleep - or at least in the way he "sleeps", staring off into space and dissociating completely, consciousness impossible to reach.
You gathered your courage. "Well, we are rarely this intimate. I just wondered..." you trailed off, cringing at how lovey-dovey you sounded. He was a murderer, for God's sake, asking him to strip wouldn't make him think less of you! He stared at you, expression unchanging, as always when he was his authentic self.
He raised one brow. You had no idea how you should explain it, so you let your actions speak instead. Never breaking eye contact, you trailed your hand down his body, slipping it under his shirt. The feel of his skin was strange; cold and slightly moist, but not like in living humans, but as if some otherwordly mist sat atop his body. You trailed it up, caressing his chest and making his undershirt fold up to expose some of his body. He smiled that hungry, predatory grin at your actions.
"Ah, darling, your hands stir me back to life", he said, definitely intrigued by your ministrations.
The words rolled off his tongue with such ease, despite their poeticism. How did he do that?
And this way, he had allowed you to slip off his shirt. God, his body was so pretty, you just had to lean over him and press a sensual kiss to his chest, and the side of his body, and the side of his back. He seemed to like the positive attention as he hummed and observed you keenly. He usually would have taken the initiative by now, fucking into you hard and rough or making you gag on him to the point of tears, but this time, he just lied there, allowing you to kiss him, his lips slightly parted.
His eyes looked as if he was reminiscing something, and that's when you truly got how old this man was. You wanted to know his every thought and secret. But his mind had to wait, as you were busy taking apart his body tonight, anxious to try touching the most forbidden part of him... but not yet.
You gestured for him to sit up, and strangely, he complied, allowing you to do your thing. It was unfair, how majestic he looked even while sitting on the bed. Would it kill him to look casual for once?
You continued your kisses on his body, eating up the cold stiffness and the death of his skin. Up to his collarbone. Down his shoulder, to the shoulderblade. And he looked back at you, curious, but tired, and so, so calm. It was awkward, him not saying anything about how entranced you were with his definitely deceased charms. You stayed silent as well, kissing along one particularly deep scar on his back, letting your tongue dip into it for just a second. God, his taste. You'd die for his taste. Rot, sweat and cigarette smoke. Not a perfect combination, but it made your thighs clench nonetheless. How it enveloped you every time he held you close, his thick and veiny fingers in your pussy and sweet words in your ear.
You were worried. He never told you much about his adolescense, yet he did mention the scars were gathering there his entire childhood, and that his father was a particular case of sadism and aggression combined with religious hypocrisy. So you never mentioned it, anxious that he might just ignore you and go on a killing bender, lashing out as always in times of heavy emotion. Some things ran in the family, you thought.
But he didn't react, other than letting out a pleasured huff of air, muscles relaxing into your careful caresses. He had to admit, you had a way of handling his body into a state of ultimate peace and relaxation. You could make thousands as a masseuse, but he'd never allow such a frivolous career for his darling. You leaving the hotel for your dreaded job was already sacrifice enough on his part. If it were up to him, your hands would serve no other purpose than caressing his lifeless form and bringing avocat and marcipan chocolates into his lips. Decadent, sweet, forbidden. Your touch and kisses on his back grew more intense, though, as you had become more hungry for him. He gasped when you scratched his skin deeply. You knew his greatest weakness; sensual pain. Digging your nails into his textured back, you kept kissing and licking sweetly. Your nails drew the faintest hint of blood.
James swallowed thickly, his slit throat exposing all muscles used during the motion. God, you wanted your fingers in his muscle.
"Dearest- I believe you've become ravenous?"
God, his way with words. You were no match for him when it came to sweet talking. So you just nodded, feeling his strong hands grip your hips, maneuvering you onto his lap, only underwear separating your groins from touching. You suppressed a whine.
Again, you expected him to pound your cunt with his usual fervor, but he just held you there, leaning back against the pillow with that mad smile of his, expectant. You almost grinned, knowing that he wished for more agonies. So you wasted no more time waiting for his move, the arousal overtaking your body. You felt inclined to make him a bit less relaxed, though, and since he had allowed you to worship his back before, you continued the exploration with your fingers and lips. Your hand wrapped around his neck, right under his chin, and you tried to kiss his chest, but you've gone hasty with your arousal; you practically slobbered all over his body, sucking deep marks and biting harshly, making him groan in prespiration.
You had a target in your mind, so you inched your kisses closer to his neck. He has never been so submissive to you before - at least on his own volition. He just gripped your hips, so hard they almost bruised, and held you there as if forcing you to please him, so he wasn't entirely subservient to your touches. He bucked his hips into yours teasingly, making you whimper. Oh, you were losing your patience with this man...
Still holding his upper neck firmly, you pressed your lips to the edge of the gash on the lower part of it. Finally. God, you've been wanting to taste it for hours now. You licked the edge of it gently, not wanting to cause him too much suffering; it was an open wound, after all. He gasped and gripped your hips tighter in reponse. You hesitated, looking him in the eyes while giving the gash slow, kitten licks, as delicate as you could. And James Patrick March, the Ten Commandments Killer and the most prolific serial murderer in all of America, whimpered. Loudly. He winced in pain, but still smiled at your sweet hesitation.
"Go ahead, savor me... don't... hold anything back"
Why, your hesitation was completely gone now.
You have decided to devour your lover down to the bone. You sucked on the edge of the wound, and he jumped, gripping the soft material of your panties so hard it almost tore. Oh, that must have hurt.
But the taste... oh, his taste! The laceration tasted like blood, obviously, but also rot and a certain heaviness, like it was filled to the brim with James' absinthe. You couldn't help but dive a little deeper into the interesting combination, ignoring his desperate gasp and groan.
This time, his grip tore your panties to shreds, and he quickly removed the admittedly sticky material from your lips. You whined into the gash, kissing deeper, letting your tongue delve into it. You swiped against his muscle and trachea, all the while grinding your ample wetness against his hard on stuck in his boxers. His self control dwindled and he tried to take down the exasperating garment, sliding his hands from your hips, but younwere having none of this.
"You'll hold me on top of you. You will.", you parted from his gash to whisper it in his ear venomously, holding his hands on your hips, not allowing him to disrobe. He let out a whine so pathetic you had no idea he was capable of such noises. It was delicious.
His cock ached in the confines, grinding against you, and because he was the one in underwear you were getting more pleasure out of it than him! Outrageous! He hadn't felt so aroused in at least three decades.
You grinned and continued your assault on his wound. You gently sucked on the flesh, still holding the upper part of his neck, preventing his squirming. And oh did James squirm under you; his hips bucked up against yours at an unrelating pace and let out deep, guttural moans of pain.
Your forehead felt sticky with sweat and the taste of his wonderful gore, along with the control made your eyes roll back. You knew he was just dying to slip himself deep into you and pound your living, pulsing pussy, you were aware of his animalistic need, and denying him that very pleasure felt exhiliarating. It made you grind against him harder, your cunt fluttering with each thrust he gave back, each moan, each depraved cry of pain and desperation.
And then you sucked, harshly, feeling the gore swish and move under your lips, and hearing the scream of his pain. You felt the wetness between you grow and realized he came in his underwear.
It was all too much. His desperate ministrations overwhelmed you and you followed soon after, finishing with a groan, squeezing his neck so hard any living being would asphyxiate.
You collapsed onto his chest and he held you firmly, cradling you tightly, whimpering like a scared dog.
You sat up and wiped your bloody lips, assessing his expression, judging whether he felt any pain anymore.
He had the biggest grin plastered on his pale face.
"...once I gut you, right here...", he pressed a hand to your stomach, "I'll, ahhh, I'll return the favor"
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godisshook · 8 months
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Casual
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Cody is the ultimate fuckboy. He prides himself on never getting attached and only using others for sex. A path of broken people and torn relationships is left wherever he steps foot, and he just doesn't seem to care. He was a horrible boyfriend, but he was my friend regardless. In my defense, we had known each other since grade school, and I can confidently say that this is a recent development. The worst part of it all is nobody else seemed to care (aside from those he hurt of course) about his dating behavior.
I tried to be a balancing force in his life, as much as I could, hoping that I could be a good influence on him, or at least prevent him from doing as much damage as possible. I tried to steer him on the right path, using our friendship to hopefully help him understand, but all my pleas fell on deaf ears. Usually, I was the first to know if Cody had entered a new relationship, but I stopped receiving those all-too-common relationship updates from him for months. Knowing his habit of being a serial dater, it seemed far too suspicious that something hadn't happened in all of this time.
In addition to ensuring Cody doesn't implode by ruining every relationship he had, it was also my plan to make this summer the best of my life, and that meant changing everything. I have only dated one guy, and that resulted in an incredibly underwhelming breakup and an even more underwhelming friendship afterward.
Our gym days had been a sort of ritual between the two of us forever, I always did cardio, while he did weights. We used this time to catch up on each other's days and make plans, all intermixed with some exercise. As one of our many rambling conversations soon circled to the topic of relationships, I used the moment to bring up my grievance with him, in the sternest way I could. Balancing seriousness with a friendly air, I said, "It is wild how you manage to be so bad at keeping a relationship." He replied, "Remind me, you've been with how many people?" With an immediate, "Oh, one!" Keeping up with the banter, I quipped, "But, I mean, at least my one relationship still likes me after." Even as the words left my lips, I knew I had crossed an invisible line. Cody's look at me only proved my thinking, as I glanced over to a blank stare.
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The moment suddenly felt intense. I thought I had hit too deep, even gone too far. I steeled myself and prepared a response, but as I did, I noticed a smile appear on his face, soon replaced by a full-faced chuckle. As the sudden shift in emotion gave me whiplash, I could only manage a light laugh, but I felt his strong hand pat my back, as he said "I mean, if they hate me so much, they should take it up with me, but they all knew what they were getting into." The seriousness of his response was dulled by his kind demeanor, but his words hit hard.
He always had that effect on people, where his words never seemed to match his face. I always thought it was a quirk of his, but at this moment, I became aware of just how effective it could be. His disarming smile made it impossible to hate him for long, and his way with words always got him out of whatever jam he found himself in. As if nothing had happened, he said, "You wanna go on the treadmill?" Whether it was a strategic olive branch, or him just genuinely not caring, I did not care to know, I grabbed my water bottle and followed behind him.
As our workout drew to a close, I sat to cool down, and scrolled through my socials as Cody still migrated around the gym. He would soon place himself right between me, and a mirror on the wall. Looking up from my seat, I said, "Why arent you sitting down?" As if he took offense to the statement, he responded, "I have to admire my hard work first." Knowing that this was the least ridiculous thing he could have said, I replied, "Y'know what, knock yourself out." Before I could even properly go back to scrolling through social media, it became obvious why he chose this position, as he lifted his shirt to admire himself in the mirror, and chose to close the distance between us.
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Cody had always made it obvious he had feelings for me. But due to my general aversion to dating and knowing his dating habits, there was never a chance for anything to happen. Despite all of this, he flirted as if we had never seen each other, which always yielded interesting situations. This felt like a nice shift from things, and I soon reassured myself, thinking that maybe I did actually get through to him, and all of these months were him reflecting on things. While I most definitely was going to exaggerate my role in this process, despite the true cause, it was fun to think about.
There were many days like that afterward, with quips and banter, and our friendship remained strong. He invited me to the park, an event that seemed very date-like, but one that was incredibly pleasant nonetheless. Weeks filled with the usual late-night texts, sudden house walks, and constant snack trips, things felt so familiar, so, safe. I reveled in this moment, as with our return to college, life would get busy, and we would inevitably fall out of touch, meeting in hurried coffee rushes, or quick workout sessions.
For now, there was peace, and I appreciated it whenever I could. After lounging my day about, I received a sudden text from Cody.
"Come to the gym," He texted.
"What do you mean, it's literally closed," I responded.
There was a second of hesitation, but a speech bubble quickly followed with an,
"I know."
It was weird, but he's had stranger ideas, and so I followed along, wanting to see what situation he had conjured up today. I arrived at the gym only ten minutes later, as it was a quick walk from my place. As I approached the door, I noticed it was already ajar, and in the parking lot, a single black car was parked at the far end. "Cody," I thought to myself. I entered, and the few lights that were on illuminated a path to the far back. With a tinge of paranoia overtaking me, I looked around to see if the cameras were on, but to my surprise, they had all been blacked out. When I finally reached the back, Cody was standing there, expectantly.
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In a cool tone, he said, "I've been thinking about what you said a while ago, I do need to get my act together, I wanna do better." A look of surprise came over my face as I replied, "How so, and why does it involve us being here so late?" My question was met with hesitation, a moment of silence, but even that felt like an eternity. Breaking the lull, he responded, "Let me show you." He was serious, there wasn't even a smile to join his words, he wanted me to know he meant what he said.
Things felt different this time, as Cody closed the distance between us, I felt an indescribable heat and urgency emanate from Cody, as if everything in this moment was his world, and was waiting for my word to let loose. I had been able to resist his charms for years, but this moment felt, different. It was as if everything had aligned for this to happen, but it was just right. "I know you can't stand my dating habits, but I did it all to try to replace my desire for you.
My body gave away my feelings in a way words could not, and I leaned onto Cody and laid a kiss on his cheek. I whispered, "I should've done that from the start." The kiss elevated the heat of the moment, and a sharp intensity came over Cody, desire and joy mixing, as he assessed just how he was going to have his way with me.
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Suddenly, I felt my knees hit the ground as his warm hands moved expertly around my chin, bringing my gaze up straight to him. "There's a reason I haven't been seeing anyone because it's always been you." His words lit a dangerous spark, and I could not resist anymore. But just as the moment was set to hit a fever pitch, a noise outside brought us back to reality. As the sounds of footsteps drew close, we rushed out the back door, and ran to the forest behind the gym, an escape route we were used to navigating for years. It was exhilarating, it felt like, in this small rush, we were back to being kids again. As we approached the other side, we watched our breaths for a moment, and after looking around to ensure we hadn't been followed, we walked up onto the sidewalk.
The walk was calm and serene, with few words spoken, but many thoughts still communicated. I felt my cheeks redden, a blush overcoming me. Cody took notice of it, but only his eyes gave away his knowledge of things, as he continued conversating as usual. In a second, as if he finally had his chance, he asked,
"You wanna go back to my place?"
It was obvious what his offer entailed, but there was a curiosity nagging at me, and I just had to resolve it. "What are we?" I asked. It was a brave question, I could have gravely misjudged the moment and ruined the friendship right here, but I felt bold, and it was a time for big steps. The usually calm and hesitant Cody became fiery for the moment, responding, "We're whatever you want us to be." It was clear what he intended with this, but it was my turn to hesitate. With uncertainty meandering throughout me, I replied, "Let's keep things casual for now, then." "Fine by me," he shrugged.
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His arms went over my shoulder, bringing me close to his chest, where I could feel the intensity of his heartbeat. The rest of the walk back was silent. Where once there was small talk and expectant words, it was now a walk of resolution, one of completion. Finally arriving at his, I splayed myself on his bed, and turned on a movie, as he went to the bathroom to take a shower and change. Even though I snuck a peek (of course) things were relatively PG, likely due to me being too exhausted to actually capitalize off of him being in the shower.
I looked around his room, a place I had been to many times, and once I had seen change countless times over the years, as new aesthetics came in, and old looks went out. It was fun to see all of this change, and made me admire just how long our friendship had lasted. Just as I thought that the situation that I now found myself in could put the whole friendship in jeopardy. I had just told him I wanted to "keep things casual." Which I immediately regretted, not knowing what response he even wanted. With my overthinking taking up every moment, I couldn't truly enjoy the fact that my hot friend wanted to date me.
Taking in how I even got to this moment, things seemed so complex. The guy who I had been lecturing for ages on how to be a better boyfriend, somehow wanted to be with me? It seemed like one of those perfect coincidences like the stars aligned in my favor just this once. I was going to take it in stride but still was mired over what he wanted out of all of this. With my thoughts all over the place, it seemed fortuitous that the person to take me out of that lull would be none other than Cody.
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His return from the bathroom resulted in him only in his boxers and a sweater, his bulge already noticeable as he walked out. As he sat down, I resisted the urge to drool on the spot. He sat right next to me and started watching TV. I could not resist the urge, and immediately laid my head on his waist, feeling his bulge just inches from my head. Both of us were making moves, but in a way that allowed us deniability, it seemed that we were each taking my words to heart.
We continued watching, only getting ten more minutes before Cody decided to lift off his sweater, revealing his muscled chest. He knew exactly what he was doing at the moment, and as I had to shift my head to accommodate him taking his sweater off, I was now face to face with his toned body. I had to admit, he knew exactly what times he was hottest, and this was definitely one of them. I was mesmerized by him, and he knew he had me enamored.
I decided to still resist, wanting to beat him at his own game. I sat close to him, resting my head on his shoulders, and laid my hand on his bulge, while watching the movie innocently. It was my bravest moment, but I felt his cock pulse under my hand in response, meaning I had clearly succeeded. Cody kept his cool for now, but his face was going flush, it was clear that his body was going to betray his mind when it came to how he felt, and that was most apparent when it came to his dick.
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His bulge was getting more noticeable, and it was clear that this movie was no longer the focus of the night. I looked over and met with bedroom eyes from Cody. As his bulge grew, I knew what I was being beckoned to do, but I, always the tease, wanted to extend the heat. I laid a kiss on his cheeks, "You seem so excited to watch a movie with me," I quipped. A strained look came over his face as if he was simply waiting for the go-ahead.
I only gave him kisses, but he returned them with a special intensity. Small pecks became deep kisses, and we began feeling each other up and down. The moment could have gone further, the feeling was there, and the moment had aligned. To my surprise, however, Cody would be the one to stop it in its tracks. Separating from the kiss, he said,
"Please, just stay the night."
I was awoken by the smell of eggs and bacon cooking downstairs, and my nose guided my path to Cody cooking in the kitchen. It was obvious I made the right decision in staying, as Cody was set to dote on me every second he could. Hypnotized by the delicious-smelling food, I could only sit and grab a plate, as Cody said, "Take as much as you want, I made plenty," I confessed, "You are truly my favorite person." "I know," he replied.
I lounged about, enjoying my day by doing absolutely nothing. Even on Cody's bed, I felt a comfort that I hadn't experienced in a long while. Things just felt, right. As Cody ran errands, I watched TV, changing between reality shows and trying to beat commercial breaks. He would return occasionally, and always lay a kiss on my head or, if I had gone into one of my many naps of the day, simply leave a snack for me as he left.
As the lazy day drew to a calm evening, I stood up to go home. I had walked to his with none of my things and had to steal even the clothes I was wearing from his closet. Deciding that I had to go get my things, I stepped out, leaving a note for Cody on his return. Instead of the note greeting him, it would be me, as when I opened the door, none other than Cody was standing right there, having returned. He noticed me holding my stuff and putting things together in a second. Instead of letting his feeling be known through words, he simply dropped everything, and grabbed my waist, laying a deep kiss on my lips. As he drew away from the kiss, he said, "You don't have to go."
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His disarming smile once again clouded everything, as it felt as if I couldn't say no. I said, "But none of my things are here." He immediately replied, "We can get it and you can come back." As I finally put the pieces together, I understood what he was truly asking. He had long wanted us to live together, and this was the moment.
I had lived by myself for years, and there would be worse people to live with, so I finally responded, "Y'know what, I can just use your stuff." Cody broke into a full smile from this, and he closed the door behind him and began kissing me continuously. The only moments we stopped were to come up for air, as we took off each other's clothes then and there, leaving on only the more base layers. I felt his bulge press against his shorts and decided to play with him a bit.
Maintaining the kiss, I brought the distance between us closer, pressing straight into his bulge. As I did, a jolt seemed to go through Cody, as he bucked against it, temporarily breaking the kiss. Grabbing me tighter he said, "You do these crazy things, and don't expect me to respond?" Before I could respond, he had lifted me up on his shoulder and was carrying me to the room. Seeing the kitchen and hallway move around me, without my legs being able to do a thing felt, different, but sexy nonetheless.
Finally reaching our destination, he took care as he entered the doorway, and finally getting inside, rushed to throw me on the bed, to which I exclaimed "Hey!" He quickly replied, "Your whole trip here wasn't allowed to be amazing." I giggled at this, and got up on my knees, beckoning the still-standing Cody over to the bed with a finger. He walked over in a sultry manner, and as the distance between us closed once more, I felt up his body, admiring every bit of muscle as I made my way down.
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I took him by the waistband, and pulled him onto the bed, resting my body right beside him, able to feel every breath hit me, as his heartbeat pounded against his chest. It was a singular second of peace, we both knew where things would go from here, but in this moment, we were just laying by each other, without a care in the world.
The feeling was nice, but I decided it was finally time to take this to the next level. I moved our bodies closer to each other, and took his face into my hands, laying a light kiss on his lips. He took this for exactly what it was and returned the favor. With that, things heated up faster and faster.
After I initiated things, Cody truly let loose, our hands taking off what little clothes remained on the other's body. His dick, as if it was waiting to be released, bounced up from his underwear, and as I noticed, I could only laugh. "You really wanted this, didn't you?" I asked. "More than you could even imagine," he responded. Instead of taking off his underwear immediately, I teased his prominent bulge, guiding my hands up and down, and was met with a deep sigh in response. Taking a hand to his chest, I moved my hands down, taking deliberate slow care to every point on his chest, to which Cody took my arm to guide me further down once more.
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Now noticing the position he had me in, Cody quickly took control, shifting my body under his, and taking my wrists in his hands, a steely stare meeting my eyes. Once again, there was hesitation, as he assessed what to do. Taking advantage of this, I asked with a chuckle, "What? You didn't think you'd get this far?" Instead of a response, however, my words were met with a sudden kiss, his lips pressing into mine, hard. The intensity of the kiss sent a flash throughout me, and his bulge now pressed against my thigh, as if it was waiting for permission to be let out. As a flurry of emotion came over me, I could only muster a single response.
"I'm all yours."
He moved like a man possessed, laying hot kisses throughout my neck, and moved my thigh up, in a moment, he moved down and began eating me out. His tongue worked expertly, and I could only moan in response, pleasure surging throughout me. A fire came over his eyes, as he knew he had me exactly where he wanted me. With a flourish, he took off his underwear, and his cock was finally freed. I gawked at his size, unaware that someone's dick could be that big.
I took the initiative, taking it in my hands and jerking him off. It was now his turn to respond with a low grunt, his deep voice bucking against the pleasure he felt. Taking things into his hands once more, he grabbed the lube from his dresser, and wet his cock. As his tip entered me, I felt a wave of heat overcome me, as my body responded to him entering me.
Soon, he was fully thrusting into me, his cock filling me up entirely. Shocks of pleasure strike through me as he continued fucking me, with me only being able to make small moans, each thrust silencing me again. We fucked for what seemed like hours, trying each and every position. Each time I thought we were done, he would cum again, setting the cycle anew once more. Load after load filled me up, and soon I became numb, after being fucked to my limit. Cody, still full of energy, kept going. I found myself wanting to keep going, for him, and didn't want this moment to end.
I felt as if the world around me was blacking out, with my only focus being Cody's warm face, laying kisses all over me as he continued pounding me. In one final thrust, I was sent to true climax, and everything became hazy. Cody's voice would be the thing to break the fog. I focused on his words with his voice being a familiar sound to my ears.
"I'm addicted to you, did you know that?" He asked.
On the verge of blacking out, I replied,
"I always did."
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milkteamoon · 2 years
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Pov you work at the magnus institute. Sorry, we're closed today due to a violent worm infestation. No entering artefact storage without at least two others supervising, Janet went in there alone 3 months ago and all we found was her leg. Archives closed: dead body in basement. No running in the halls — giant monster that looks like one of the employees chasing you is not an excuse. Any new doors that appear are not to be opened and are to be reported to higher ups immediately. Archives closed: dead body in basement (different body). Archives closed: archivist kidnapped. Archives closed: archivist in coma. General reminder: as per company policy, no expenses may be claimed post mortem. Please do not enter the archives unsupervised, it makes the archivist hungry. We regret to inform you that the head of the institute has been arrested for murder, so we will be appointing a new head in the interim, follow his instructions exactly or you will be terminated immediately. Reminder: all deliveries (coffins included) must be processed first at the front desk. Please refrain from eye mutilation on institute property. Archives closed: serial killer attack. Please respond to this email with your top three fears and which you would be comfortable managing in the coming apocalypse.
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beastwistenworld · 11 days
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CREEPY POCKET
Welcome to “Creepy Pocket”! Today I have selected for you 6 Creepypasta characters who interested me in the first place.
Slenderman: Almost everyone knows this character. Already in 2009, in one online forum “Something Awful”, the author @Victor-Surge posted him for a competition, while giving him his start as a Creepypasta character. I tried not to change anything in his design, the only thing I thought for a long time was what color of tie to give him. The choice was between black and red. In the end, I decided to combine two colors together.
Nathan The Nobody: A Creepypasta character created by IvyDarkRose on DeviantArt, who interested me not only for his design, but also for his creepy and at the same time sad story.
Zero: I was thinking for a long time about which female character I should add and suddenly “Calalini” by Crusher-P started playing in my playlist. Then I immediately realized that this was a sign and immediately thought about Zero. Of course, I changed her scarf a little to make it unique and different from Kagekao's scarf. The author of this character is @ZombiePunkRat.
Puppeteer: This is a charismatic and interesting character in terms of concept. His yellow eyes and smile can really give a creepy feeling especially at night, so he's in my top six. The author of the Puppeteer is @BleedingHeartWorks. 
Jeff the Killer: Considered to be the face of most of Creepypasta, as his image appeared long before the advent of Slenderman, or at least that's what people think. In 2007, the author under the nickname Sessuer posted this photo, which later began the era of Jeff the Killer, although there is a theory that this photo has been around since 2005 as a Japanese meme, but this doesn’t seem to be proven. In his biography, at first there was a canonical story about Jeffrey Hodek, then in 2011 a well-known fan or “headcanon” story with a dose of realism appeared about Jeffrey Woods, from which many began to be inspired for their artworks and are remembered by the phrase “Go To Sleep”. After much thought, I decided to return to the original source, namely this picture from 2007, and draw Jeff the Killer based only on this. From my artistic perspective, I decided to add a black turtleneck sweater to him, highlighting his creepy “beautiful” face and black gloves, as a sign that he is a cunning, merciless serial killer. I'll also add a little of my idea for this character. What if this image of a killer is just our imagination? When we start seeing him before we go to sleep, we wake up becoming completely different people, eager only to carve a smile like Jeff’s and start doing terrible things. I don't know about you, but this sounds crazy.
Eyeless Jack: His original photo was taken long before the Creepypasta itself was written by the author of Cachet, who couldn’t have imagined that in the future Azelf5000 would borrow his image and create Eyeless Jack in 2012, thus beginning the record of his era as one of the creepiest characters. Since in the fandom they mostly draw him a hoodie, and in the original he is simply dressed in all black, I decided to keep his original design, but add a long hoodie without zippers so that he can easily take it off during the hunt.
To sum up, I want to tell you something else, my dear reader. I have been and will always be in the Creepypasta Fandom, no matter what anyone says, I know that as long as we believe in something, it will not disappear.
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chrollosbm · 5 months
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Sunflowers Fields: a Choso Love Story
You're broken from a past relationship, thinking you only deserve the worst. Choso comes along, making you realize you deserve the world and more. Will your ex-boyfriend let you go without a fight? (Choso x black!reader, yandere Choso)
warnings: swearing, alcohol use, manipulation, (eventual) heavy smut, overstimulation, begging, dacryphilia, dom choso, bossy choso, sub reader, slight yandere choso, suguru is her ex
pls support me on ao3, it would mean the world to me!
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yummy.
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You were a wreck. Your hair was tangled, your nails were chipped, you hadn’t showered in days, and you were currently rotting in your bed for the fifth day in a row. The only time you had gotten out of bed was to pee, drink water when you felt dizzy because of all the crying you had been doing which was not helping your dehydration, and when you forced yourself to eat small bits of crackers every now and then. Your outside appearance was nothing in comparison to the sadness and despair you felt inside though. You had gotten this bad on the outside because of the aching pain you felt in your heart. 
Last week, you and your ex-boyfriend broke up again. The relationship was not healthy at all, yet the two of you felt drawn to each other like magnets. You told yourself you were done this time though maybe. You could say your relationship with each other was pretty toxic at least that’s what all your friends and family said. You were still so in love with him though, so it didn’t matter what everyone else had to say. Yes, you were quite aware of your delusion, but it didn’t matter to you. How could you throw two years of your life with someone away? 
He cheated again. You should have known the first time that this would happen again. If you take someone back for cheating once, they’ll do it again. 
You sighed and mentally slapped yourself as you cuddled more into your bedsheets and squeezed the emotional support stuffed animal that was now covered in tears and snot.
The previous time he cheated on you, you had revenge sex with his best friend, which promptly ended a four year friendship between them. 
You found yourself smirking through your tears at the memory.
All it took was you showing up at said friend’s apartment with mascara stained cheeks (and an outfit that showed way too much skin.) You learned that the whole “bros before hoes” code was a myth that night. You simply walked into his blue-eyed-bestie’s apartment and put on an award winning performance of heartbreak (which you were actually feeling, but you had to bump it up a notch,) and feed him lies about how your ex-boyfriend had been talking shit about him for months. The rest was history. 
Of course, you put your acting skills to use again to get your ex to forgive you. After all, he cheated on you first. An eye for an eye right? Maybe you took it too far, but who cares, you actively tried to become a better person for him after that and it felt like he had done nothing to change. 
Your phone pinging brought you out of your thoughts and you rolled over to check your phone, shamelessly hoping it was a text from your serial cheating ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t, but it was the next best thing. Your paycheck was deposited into your account. It was a little lighter than usual, considering you took off for the entire week to mourn the loss of your already dead relationship. Still, it was a lot, and since your bills were already paid at the beginning of the month, you had disposable income to spend now. 
You checked the time on your phone, saw it was late afternoon and sighed. Maybe you should get up, considering you hadn’t seen sunlight in days and you deserved to make yourself feel better by going on an impromptu shopping trip. 
You scrolled down to the text messages from your closest friend that you had been ignoring for hours on end. You tried to update her at least twice a day on your mental state (which was not great, in all honesty,) just so she wouldn’t worry that you weren’t breathing (or that you went back to him, like you had previously done before.) She always hated him and always made sure to vocalize that opinion. It could be annoying sometimes, but you knew your best friend only did that because she loved you and knew you deserved better. There were a string of texts that you didn’t feel like reading, so you decided to just pick up the phone and facetime her. 
She picked up on the first ring with a call of your name coated with concern.
“Oh goodness, you look awful!” your friend exclaimed with a worried expression on her face.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
“Thanks a lot, Andrea. That’s exactly what I need to hear right now.” You got up out of bed to see exactly why she had such a dramatic reaction and when you reached the mirror your eyebrows shot up. “Oh wow, you’re right.”
She let out a small whimper. “My poor baby. We have to get you out of the house today. It is Friday after all, and I’m not taking no for an answer. You can’t let that asshole dictate how you feel forever.”
You let out a small sigh as you looked closer in the mirror. It was very evident that you hadn’t washed your face in days. Your dark eye bags in contrast to your brown skin made it look like you hadn’t slept in weeks, although that’s all you had been doing for the past week. Your eyes were bloodshot red and you could no longer force out tears due to dehydration and exhaustion. Your hair was an unruly mess, your tight coils tangled and in knots that will take hours to get out. 
You sucked your teeth and mentally chastised yourself for not putting a bonnet on your head during the past week.
It didn’t take long for you to respond to Andrea, considering you were tired of sitting in your own filth. 
“Okay! Did you want to join me while I went shopping? “You looked down at your chipped and overgrown nails. You were due for a refill. “We could also stop at the nail salon…” 
She squealed in delight. “I didn’t think you’d actually say yes! Of course. I’ll be there to pick you up in a couple hours. It’ll give you time to do that hair.” She teased. 
You rolled your eyes again. “See you soon, Andrea.” You quickly ended your call then jumped in the shower so you could have time to do a simplified version of your hair routine. No time for a full wash day session, so a quick detangle and moisturize will have to do. It was warm outside this time of year anyways, so half drying your hair was okay. 
You quickly washed your body and finished your hair routine in the shower, quickly attempting to diffuse it afterwards. You definitely felt wetness in the middle of your head, but it will have to do. You left it down in tight ringlets so it could dry by the end of the day when you were undoubtedly going to be forced to go out with Andrea tonight. Not that you minded, anyways. The first thing you wanted to do right now was get wasted to get rid of the heartache you felt. 
You quickly threw on a casual and comfortable outfit consisting of black yoga pants and a black graphic tee. As soon as you finished getting ready, you heard a loud and over-exaggerated car horn that you knew was the doing of your best friend. 
You quickly rushed down your stairs and threw on a pair of comfortable platform sandals and grabbed your purse before heading out the door. 
The sun hurt your eyes and you quickly shielded your face from its rays with a frown. The air smelled crisp and it felt good to breathe in natural air.
Your friend was in her very expensive black vehicle with tinted windows that you didn’t know the name of, (because cars right?) with said tinted windows down, showing a huge smile that belonged to Andrea. Her hair was different this time, small knotless braids cascading down her back, rather than her usual curls identical to yours. Thank God for that. Every time you wore your hair the same, people always mistook the two of you for sisters even though you looked nothing alike. You were both just black in a city with nearly not enough black people. 
Your personalities were also nothing alike. While she was like sunshine and rainbows after a stormy day, you were that stormy day. She was always kind, level-headed, calm, honest, and well put together, while you on the other hand were hotheaded, loud, impulsive, brutal, and sometimes extremely vindictive. You were trying to change the last trait as much as you could, but you were a work in progress. 
You hopped into her car, giving her a tight smile and she immediately pulled you into a hug.
“I’m so happy you decided to come out today! I have such a fun night planned for you.” She winked after she pulled away from the hug, mischief twinkling in her big brown orbs. 
Suspicion clouded your mind, wondering what she was up to, but decided to let it go considering you didn’t have a care in the world about what you guys did today, as long as you were able to get blasted. “Is drinking involved?” you said plainly and she smiled again in a way that could light up the entire galaxy.
“Duh.” she said simply and you finally gave a real smile as she pulled out your driveway, onto your day of adventures.
After a lengthy but fun day of shopping, getting your nails done, and eating your first full meal in days, you and Andrea approached her luxury apartment.
Another difference between you and Andrea? She was in a healthy and loving marriage. She and her husband were still newlyweds, but they had been living together since their engagement (which was very soon after they started dating.) You smiled thinking about your best friend’s luck in life and love, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little jealous. She deserved all of this and more of course, but you couldn’t help but envy her situation. You were trapped in a toxic cycle while a good man found her, a rich and handsome one at that. 
“You ready, babe?” she snapped you out of your thoughts and grabbed a handful of shopping bags. You guys went way overboard. 
You nodded and followed suit, grabbing the remainder of bags and headed up the elevator to their apartment. 
As you two stepped into the large and luxurious apartment, Andrea called out to her husband and all but ran to the kitchen when he responded with joy. 
You followed behind her awkwardly and pretended to be doing something on your phone when you saw the two of them sucking face.
When they finally came up to breathe, he looked up at you and gave you a sad smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?” You knew Andrea had already told him, considering he actually knew your ex-boyfriend. They went to high school together, but weren’t close at all.
You gave a matching smile back and felt your eyes well up with tears as you answered. “In all honesty, horrible. If it weren’t for your wife I would probably still be in bed sulking and crying over that asshole friend of yours.” 
He winced a little at your harsh words, but quickly recovered and had a face full of anger. “You want me to hire a hitman on him? I have that kind of money, you know.” 
You laughed loudly but his facial expression never changed. “Woah chill, Kento! He isn’t worth it. I hope he and that bitch he’s with get what they deserve but I don’t know if it’s death.” A smile remained on your face at his protectiveness. He was always protective over you considering you were his wife’s best friend. He even got into a few heated arguments on double dates with your ex over you.
“Well if you change your mind, I have a guy on speed dial. That asshole Suguru needs to learn a lesson.” He responded and Andrea caressed his arm in an attempt to calm down which seemed to work almost immediately. His face softened and he looked at your best friend in such a loving way that made you want to smile and puke at the same time.
“Thanks, dude. I’ll keep that in mind. Now let’s go Andrea, we have plans tonight, remember?” You gave him a grateful smile and grabbed your friend’s hand before you were caught witnessing another makeout session between the two. 
As you dragged her into her vanity room, you heard him shout after the two of you. “How much of my money did you spend today?!” The both of you erupted into a fit of giggles as you shut the door behind you. 
You both finished getting ready just before the clock hit ten pm. PartyNextDoor was blasting in her speakers as you two got ready, along with Andrea making insulting jokes about your ex the entire time. You, of course, were almost in tears at her jokes. You were so grateful to have her all the time, but especially during times like this. 
You were currently standing in front of her ceiling to floor, LED-light filled mirror looking at yourself in awe. You forgot how pretty you actually were. Due to the fact that you hadn’t seen yourself in makeup in weeks (you were naturally beautiful bare-faced as well,) but also the fact that you somehow felt ugly when you were dating Suguru. You knew you were pretty, but his excessive cheating made you feel less than. You always found yourself comparing yourself to the women he cheated with, who looked nothing like you.
Your face was lightly beat along with dark eyeliner that also included dark, but lightweight lashes that made your dark eyes look even more beautiful. Your lips were outlined with a dark lipliner with an expensive clear lip gloss that Andrea (well, Kento) had bought for you earlier in the day. You had on a tight maroon red dress that stopped at your mid thigh, the color making your brown skin look radiant and your body look amazing. You paired your outfit with gold jewelry you borrowed from Andrea since all your jewelry was left at home. Finally, you were going to finish off your outfit with black opened-toed kitten heels that you were going to put on at the door before you left. 
Your hair was put into a puff with minimal curls left out to frame your face. You were smiling at yourself in the mirror when you heard a knock at the door. 
Andrea went to open the door and her husband was standing at the door, mouth agape as he took in how she looked. You couldn’t blame him, she looked fucking hot. Her knotless braids were left down and she had on a black two-piece mini skirt set with silver jewelry that was to be paired with black stiletto heels. He leaned down to whisper something in her ear and her eyes widened slightly and she cleared her throat immediately after.
“You ladies ready to go?” He said with a smug look on his face and you gave Andrea a questioning look.
“I thought this was a girls night?” You said with a raised eyebrow.
She smirked, that mischievous look in her eye again. “I never said that.” She grabbed her black shoulder bag, along with an identical one she picked out for you, ushering you to come. “I said I had a fun night planned for you didn’t I? Just trust me.”
You looked between the Nanamis with suspicion written all over your face then shrugged. “As long as that includes free drinks, I don’t care what’s planned.”
“That’s my girl!” Andrea cheered as she gave you a slap on the ass when you walked out the front door.
You could’ve sworn you heard Nanami grumble something in the lines of, “Just don’t bankrupt me.”
You were currently in between tipsy and drunk, but not quite drunk yet like you wanted. You were dancing in your very own section with Andrea and Kento, about to take your next tequila shot. Andrea was already very drunk, you could tell by the way she was dancing on Nanami, who stopped drinking a while ago. He was driving after all, and he apparently never liked being drunk when he went out with Andrea because he wanted to make sure she was safe at all times. As you finished taking your shot with a shiver, you heard your best friend call your name.
You looked over at her with curiosity as a man you didn’t know was let into your section. You looked at him with confusion and interest. He was certainly a sight.
“This is Ch-Choso!” She yelled way too loud into your ear, slurring her words.
You took a second look at the man and were not disappointed. He was very tall, much taller than you. You looked up at him and he had two buns with shorter pieces sticking out the front to give him slight bangs, dark eyes that had eye bags underneath them, and full pink lips that were currently wearing a small smirk. He had on a dark shirt with equally as dark pants and sneakers. He had tattooed covered arms, and one of them sported a very expensive watch. He also had bright diamond earrings in his ear. They shone so bright you felt they might blind you.
“Hello, gorgeous.” He grabbed your hand and gave it a small kiss and you had to stop yourself from smiling. As your hand reached his lips, you noticed a dark birthmark across his nose, making him impossibly more handsome. It was something you had never seen before, giving him even more intrigue than before.
You cleared your throat and introduced yourself quickly, a look of suspicion and annoyance on your face you weren't trying to hide at all. In reality, the pool in your stomach was becoming hotter by the second.
“Will you excuse me for a second?” You gave him an obviously sarcastic, tight-lipped smile and let go of his hand to immediately grab Andrea’s. You dragged your stumbling friend and took her into the thankfully vacant bathroom.
As soon as the door shut you turned to her, where she was sporting a slight smirk. You didn’t return it though.
“What the hell is this?” You folded your arms over your chest and waited for her to answer.
She feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean!” She was full blown smiling now, like something was funny.
“Who the hell is that guy? Why is he in our section? Was this supposed to be your fun night for me?” You said it all way too fast and way too angry, but you didn’t care. Was she really trying to set you up with another guy when you were still heartbroken (and still longing for your ex-boyfriend)?
She put her hands up in defense. “Chill out!” She sounded way more sober now, your words seeming to light a match under her. “I was just trying to make you feel better. You were with that selfish, cheating asshole for two years and now you’re finally free! This is a time to celebrate, babe. I get that you’re sad, but how much longer are you going to let him dictate how you feel? How long are you going to let him dictate what you do, or who?” She gave you a wink and grabbed your hands.
She was right and you knew it. You had been taking Suguru's bullshit for years now. Every him he stepped out on you or whenever you caught him texting other women, it sent you into a spiral. He was draining the life out of you everyday, but it was like he was your own brand of heroin. No matter how much he hurt you, and how bad he was for you, it was like you were addicted to him, waiting for your next fix. You wanted to slap yourself for not being strong enough to just quit.
"...And Choso is a sweet guy. He’s smart, and works with Kento, so you know he’s loaded. He’s also fine as hell.” You felt your cheeks get warm at that. You have to admit. The man was sexy as fuck.
“It doesn’t have to go anywhere! I just want you to see there are other options out there other than Sir-Cheats-A-Lot.” She continued. Her eyes were pleading you, at this point.
You let out a small sigh. You knew she was right. It really didn’t have to go anywhere. You could just dance with him fuck him tonight. It would be a good distraction and you really wanted to get over Suguru once and for all you also really really wanted to fuck Choso. Like badly.
You gave her an eye roll then faked annoyance. "Fine. I'll entertain it. Just for the night." You were excited at the chance to finally talk to someone new, to be honest. She didn't need to know that, though. She squealed in response and she pulled you into a tight hug, too tight for your liking. You smiled widely in the hug and laughed as you hugged her back. As the two of you pulled away, you smelled the alcohol on her breath and remembered you were there to get blasted tonight, anyway.
When you returned to the table you were met with a concerned Nanami who was ranting to a very sexy looking Choso. The man you just met tonight looked bored as his coworker was very obviously worried about his wife. When the two of you approached the table, it seemed like his entire mood switched. His eyes became brighter and his lips formed a small smile. Kento's eyes snapped to Andrea with relief and you let the two have their reunion (his genuine concern for her leaving for five minutes made you both happy and nauseated) as you settled down next to Choso, making sure to sit extra close to him. If you wanted to fuck him tonight, you had to lay it on thick.
His cheeks reddened slightly as the bare skin of your thighs touched his clothed thighs. He seemed to quickly compose himself. “I thought I scared you off.” He nudged you with his shoulder with a smile.
You shook your head at him and smiled softly, returning the nudge. “No way. I just had to make sure my friend wasn’t going to black out.” You gave him a quick lie.
He seemed to believe it just as a server brought over four more tequila shots. Andrea let out an excited squeal for the tenth time tonight and attempted to grab a glass, which Nanami quickly blocked. She gave him a puppy dog look, which he seemed to ignore and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go dance, sweetheart.” He said, attempting to distract her and it worked. He dragged her onto the packed dancefloor and you were left alone with Choso and four shots.
“It looks like we have to down these ourselves, gorgeous.” His hand caressed your bare thigh lightly as he reached over to grab two shots. It was hard to ignore the increasing wetness in your underwear, very afraid it would start pooling out at some point. You couldn’t help it, the man was insanely gorgeous. He gave you the shot with a small smile and the two of you proceeded to clink glasses together and down them, finishing with a slam of the glass on the table.
The night progressed with the two of you taking more shots and you noticed how both of you slowly began to get more comfortable with each other. You somehow found yourself sitting on his lap with his hands around your waist, that were inching very close to your ass. You were currently laughing at something he said (God knows what, you were just drunk off your ass) and giving a playful slap to his very hard chest. It was like slapping bricks.
The music was loud, the lights were flashing, you didn’t know where your two friends went, yet you didn’t seem to be able to focus on anything but the beautiful man in front of you. He had to be as drunk as you considering the amount of shots you both had, but he seemed to be completely composed. His dark orbs stared holes into you as you were telling him stories about you and Andrea in college.
You were supposed to be on a mission to get some dick, but you found yourself actually wanting to have a conversation with him. He was a great listener and you somehow just couldn't stop talking. The way he was looking at you with genuine interest and attention made it hard to keep quiet.
You quickly learned he was a man of very few words, even with alcohol in his system. He would give a light smile and chuckle every now and then, but he mainly remained quiet besides the occasional questions he would ask, which prompted more stories from you.  He didn’t make you feel annoying, either . Unlike Suguru, who would at times tell you to “just shut up already,” when you were expressing things you had interest in.
You slowly stopped talking and looked down as soon as you thought about your ex-boyfriend, your mood dampening. Choso seemed to notice and put a hand on your chin and softly lifted it to look into his eyes again.
“What’s wrong? You were just getting to the good part.” He asked with genuine concern. His eyes burned holes into yours again and it all became too much. You were suddenly aware of everything around you. The music was too loud, the lights were blinking far too much, your clothes felt too tight on you, and you felt sick.
You quickly got up, grabbed your bag, and with a quick “I’m sorry, I have to go.” You left the section the club with Choso shouting your name behind you. You had ino idea where you were, your vision was blurry and you just wanted to go home. People in line outside the club were looking at you in confusion as you stumbled, almost falling on your ass, but you quickly left, having no idea where you were going.
Chapter Two is up
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ok i want to jot down some quick notes on kusuo's restoration ability. Kusuo says in the above panel that he needs to restore his target's body before the pain reaches their brain, which implies that his restoration power doesn't work on the brain. That, and the fact that people don't typically lose their memories when he reverses time on them (see: kuniharu begging kusuo to heal him after he stubs his toe). Memories are just pathways in the brain, so they should be reset if this power actually affected them.
I've wondered if, perhaps, the brain is immune to his power, but i think that's a backwards way of thinking about it. Rather than proposing the brain to have a Special Feature™ which renders Kusuo's restoration power null, i think it's way more likely that Kusuo's powers are making the active decision to skip over them.
So. why would this be? I think it has to do with the drawback he mentions in chapter 9:
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When using restoration, "all the things nearby also end up affected." That description might be a little deceptive because it's easy to assume that "nearby" means everything within a certain radius will be affected, but in later chapters that's clearly not the case. Take this section from chapter 103:
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When Kusuo restored the hole he made in this wall, his power travelled across the length of the wall, but did not extend perpendicularly to affect the people, houses, street, etc. near it. So it may be more accurate to say that when Kusuo tries to restore an object, his powers will automatically identify that object as one small part of a larger system, and then proceed to reverse time on that entire system.
Typically, this is a very intuitive process. Reverse time on a wall, his entire house gets restored. Reverse time on his video game controller, his entire gaming setup will be restored. Reverse time on the volcano, the entire Earth will be restored. However, the brain vs body situation is not intuitive.. or at least not to me at first glance. But for Kusuo, it may well be.
A huge part of Kusuo's worldview is dominated by the difference between people's thoughts, and people's actions. Brain vs. Body. That sentiment is the very first thing we see in chapter 1:
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Even in Volume 0, when Saiki only existed as a series of oneshots, before serialization. Chapter 0.1 is all about Kusuo's telepathy. And we're greeted with panels like this:
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which display a huge gap between appearance and thought. Many major characters also play into this concept: Nendo (looks thuggish but can be very kind), Teruhashi (appears perfect, is not), Kuusuke (displays himself as a charming and trustworthy graduate of cambridge, is actually verrry fucked up), etc. Kusuo himself hides his psychic, genius brain behind a facade of normalcy. It's an absolutely fundamental aspect of the series.
So again, why shouldn't Kusuo feel a distinct separation between the brain and the rest of the body? And why shouldn't this belief express itself through one of his most used powers? His powers aren't some separate, unknowable entity doing whatever they want to inconvenience him- they are him. And I think this is a good example of that.
sidenote: a silly little scenario i've considered before is whether kusuo could make someone effectively immortal by reversing time on them every day, but since his powers skip over the brain, I'm now sure the answer to that question is "no." Unless, of course, he made an effort to access the brain directly, but even with all the dark stuff in this show, i don't think kusuo's ever reached into someone's skull to get directly at their gray matter. now wouldn't that be something..
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sailor-aviator · 6 months
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Four
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Four
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.
Trigger warnings: Language, talk of courting and mating, FBI, mentions of murder. Think that’s it.
Word Count: 3.87k
A/N: Here is Chapter Four! A whole lot of setting up what's to come, I think, but hopefully y'all still like it! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!
Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
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“Are you still feeling alright, honey?” Susan asked you, checking you over. You gave her a small smile as she gave you a once over. Her green scrubs contrasted against her blonde hair, and the wrinkles around her eyes were more pronounced as she frowned at you worriedly. “You’re still taking it easy, right? Remember what Dr. Carson said when he checked you out the other day.”
“I’m fine, Susan. I promise,” you reassured the older nurse. She studied you for a second longer before turning to fix her coffee.
“You know, it’s a real shame about that Morris girl,” she continued. “She was always such a sweet girl. Wasn’t she in your class, Bobby?”
“No, she was a year ahead with Reuben, Nat, and Jake,” he muttered through a mouthful of Cheerios.
“That’s right,” she nodded.
Bob swallowed his mouthful and peered up at his mother. “Are you going to tell us what’s been going on?”
“You know,” she sighed exasperatedly, “I could have sworn I had told you. Or at least I would have if you bothered to answer your phone every once in a while.”
“You could tell me now?” Bob said sarcastically. Susan glared over at him.
“Tone, mister,” she warned before letting out another sigh and leaning against the kitchen counter. “I suppose it’s been a little over two months now since they found the first body. Everyone thought it was just an accident since it looked like a drowning. But then a couple of weeks later another body washed up, and then another one a couple weeks after that. They were all young women about the same age, and they all appeared to have drowned. Maverick was worried that there was a serial killer on the loose, so he called in a favor to Tom. You remember Tom, don’t you, sweetie?”
“Yeah, I remember Mr. Kazansky, Mom,” Bob nodded. “He was only the my baseball coach for most of middle school and high school.”
“Such a sweet man,” Susan nodded with a small smile towards you. “We were all sad to see him leave, but when the FBI offers you a job, what person in their right mind says no?”
“So he and that other guy are here because of this serial killer no one told me about?” Bob asked her, eyebrow raised.
Susan scowled at him, but let out a sigh. “Tom and his partner, Agent Simpson, got here about two weeks ago when the last body was found. I was talking to Tom the other day, actually, and he told me that there were signs of a struggle, which is why they got called in.”
“Should he be telling you that?” Bob frowned. She shrugged, sipping from her coffee mug.
“I think they’re holding a press conference today to discuss everything. He wouldn’t have told me if they weren’t already planning on telling everyone, I’m sure.”
“A serial killer,” you hummed, frowning. “That’s really scary, actually.”
“It is,” she agreed, eyeing you. “Which is why I want you to promise me that you won’t go off on your own at night, alright? You should be fine during the day time, especially with the summer crowds, but I want you to make sure you have somebody with you after the sun goes down.”
“I will, Susan,” you smiled.
Bob peered over at you from over his own coffee mug. “I promised Dad that I’d take the boat out with him today. I don’t suppose you wanted to tag along?”
“No,” you told him, shaking your head. “Nat actually texted me last night and asked me if I wanted to go and hang out at the boardwalk today, and I told her that I did. You’ll be okay without me, yeah?”
“‘Course,” he snorted, moving to take his dishes to the sink. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve ditched me for other friends.”
“If you’re talking about that time in sophomore year when I went with Abby and Rachel to the football game after you insisted that you would be a fourth wheel even though we all told you that you wouldn’t be, then this is not the same situation at all.”
“I beg to differ,” he laughed, heading for the back door.
“You can beg all you want, but it’s the truth,” you giggled. “Oh, wait!”
You got up from your own chair, moving to follow him.
“I think I left my bag on the boat last night,” you told him. “I’m going to grab it before I head out.”
The two of you walked down the stone path until you reached the small strip of sand that led out onto the dock.
“You know I’m not ditching you, right?” You asked him, suddenly worried that your best friend really did think you were trying to leave him behind. Bob snorted and looked over at you with a quirk of his brow.
“Of course I don’t,” he said, making a beeline for the boat that bobbed up and down with the waves. “I don’t expect you to tag along with me everywhere. I’m actually really happy that you and the gang are getting along so well.”
“Okay,” you trailed off. “Good. Because I really like hanging out with them.”
Bob chuckled as he stepped onto the boat, turning to face you. “I know. Stay right there and I’ll grab your bag, yeah?”
You nodded, turning to watch the waves as he disappeared towards the back of the boat. You glanced down when a shine of light danced in the corner of your eye. Sitting on the wood of the dock was a collection of more shells and pearls, and you immediately crouched down to take a better look at them. A couple of sand dollars were added into the mix this time and even more pearls of various shapes, sizes, and colors were mixed in with the lot. You picked each one up gently, inspecting them. Your favorite was the beautiful black pearl that rested in the center of the grouping. The oily colors on its surface danced as you inspected it, and you felt your skin prickle in delight.
Your gaze shifted to the breathtaking conch shell that rested near the edge, and you gingerly lifted it up to get a better look at it. It truly was a marvelous sight. One of the best specimens you had ever had the privilege of seeing.
“How much crap do you carry in this thing?”
You whirled around to see Bob grimacing as he made his way towards you with your simple hobo bag.
“I carry just what I need in it,” you replied to him, reaching an arm out to take the bag.
“What are you doing crouched over here?” Bob asked you, brow furrowing as he handed it off to you. He stopped short when he saw the collection of ocean treasures at your feet. He inspected them before moving his eyes up to meet yours.
“Look at these!” You grinned, gesturing down at them. “These are more spectacular than the last bunch! Have you ever seen such amazing specimens? And these pearls!”
“Yeah,” Bob said uneasily, eyes shifting to look out at the water. “They’re pretty great.”
You stood up suddenly, turning to fix him with a small glare.
“What is up with you?” You demanded, hands on your hips. “You love things like this! You’re the one person I know who gets more excited about this shit than I do, and you’re over here looking like someone just told you they were planning on kidnapping me. You did the same thing yesterday!”
Bob’s eyes widened at your outburst before melting into a sheepish expression as he looked away. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck before letting out a sigh, looking back at you with an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed. “The shells are great, really. I guess I just have a lot on my mind with the murders and all that.”
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, replacing the annoyance. Your hands moved to pull him into a hug, one he returned.
“Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?” You told him, squeezing him tight. “I’ll be extra careful to not be by myself at night, so you don’t have to worry about me, yeah?”
Bob didn’t say anything for a moment. He pulled back to look at you, a fond smile on his face as he regarded you.
“I’m always going to worry about you, you know,” he smirked, something serious behind his eyes despite the teasing tone he used. “You’re like the little sister I never had.”
“Bob,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m literally three months older than you.”
He grinned at that.
“Semantics.”
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The street was busy as people walked back and forth along the boardwalk, taking in the different rides and stalls as the excitement for summer festival began to grow. Several decorations littered the pathways, all of various sea creatures and more than a few mermaids. You watched the different families, friends, and couples run around to the different events, and you let out a sigh as you checked your phone once again.
Sorry, Skip! Mom needed help with some things at the shop so I’m running late. Give me half an hour!
That had been thirty-five minutes ago, and you hadn’t heard anything. Sighing, you wiped the sweat from your brow, deciding to take a break from the overwhelming heat. You spotted a familiar, little shop and began walking towards it.
The bell above the door rang out as you stepped inside, letting out a breath of relief as the cool air washed over you. The shop hadn’t changed much in the days since you had last been in. There were new novelty items scattered about, but for the most part, Mrs. Cambroni’s shop was still quaint and cheesy.
The old woman appeared from the backroom, giving you a warm smile as she gave you a once over. Her eyes landed on your neck, an eyebrow quirking as she took in the raised skin that still shone in the light.
“My, my, dear,” she hummed, leaning against the counter. “What happened there?”
“Oh this?” You asked, resting your hand over the mark. You suppressed a shiver as a oddly pleasant feeling washed over you. “I had a bit of an accident the other day. I fell of a boat and washed up on shore.”
“Oh, how terrible!”
“Yeah, but I’m okay!” You chirped. “The doctor checked me out and said I was fine, just a little bruised. Said I was really lucky that nothing worse happened.”
“I’m sure you were,” she murmured, eyes still locked on your neck.
“But I guess I must have hit my neck pretty good on some rocks because the bump hasn’t gone away and the algae practically looks like it’s a part of my skin now,” you joked. Mrs. Cambroni blinked at you.
“The…algae?” She asked. You nodded, and she threw her head back in a fit of laughter. You stared at her in confusion until she calmed down, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t mean to laugh,” she said through bouts of giggles. “What brings you by my little shop?”
“Oh!” You cried, moving closer to the counter. “Nothing really, I was just waiting for a friend, but she’s running late. So, I thought I’d pop back in and say hi after I got dragged out of here the other day.”
Mrs. Cambroni gave another hum, a knowing look on her face. She took a sip from the cup of tea she held in her hands.
“Have you found any interesting seashells along the beach since I last saw you?”
“Actually, yes!” You smiled, digging through your bag to pull out the collection you were beginning to compile. “I found these over the last couple of days. It’s strange though, none of these were on the beach. I found a pile of them on our boat and then another pile on the dock this morning. My friend said it must have been the current-”
Mrs. Cambroni’s eyes widened as she coughed up her tea, nearly choking on it as she fought to regain control over her breathing. You reached out a hand to soothe her, and she gave you a grateful smile.
“The current, you say?” She said, barely hiding her amusement. You nodded self consciously, and the old woman shook her head with a chuckle.
“Seems to me like you’ve caught the eye of a sea person, my dear.”
Now it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “What?”
“I’m surprised no one’s told you yet,” she mused, setting her cup down and examining the shells and pearls. “It’s part of the courting rituals for their kind, after all. Just like that intention bite on your neck.”
Your blood ran cold, recalling how your first reaction to the raised skin was that it looked like a bite mark.
“But it’s not-”
“Oh, but it is, dear child,” she smiled, no hint of malice to it, just understanding. “I’m not sure why no one is telling you the truth. Perhaps it’s because you aren’t a local, and they don’t know if you can be fully trusted yet. Or perhaps it’s because you were chosen in a moment of frenzy. Choice is such an important piece of the courting ritual, after all.”
“Is that why you’re telling me all of this?” You asked her, brow quirked. “Because you think I should have a choice?”
“Precisely. How can you make an informed decision without all of the pieces?”
“Alright, then,” You started, deciding to amuse the woman before you, “what is it you can tell me?”
“What is it you want to know?”
“Tell me more about the courting rituals. What are they? What does it entail?”
“Well,” she smiled, “that certainly is an interesting first question. It’s simple really. It starts with the bite mark on your neck. What you have right now is called an intention bite. This bite is to let other sea people know that you have been marked as the intended mate for someone. As long as that bite remains on your neck, every sea person who lays eyes on it will know that you are spoken for. If that wasn’t enough of a hint, it changes your scent as well.”
“Are you saying that I smell different?”
“Oh, yes,” she nodded. “But not in an unpleasant way, dear. And as long as that’s the only bite mark that remains on your neck, it’ll fade after a few months along with it. The intention mark is only meant to be a placeholder for the permanent mark.”
“And what is that?” You asked her. Mrs. Cambroni turned her serious gaze to your face.
“That would be the mating mark.”
“And what does that one do?” You murmured, voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why you were entertaining this conversation, to be honest. Maybe it was your longstanding fascination with mermaids that kept you rooted there, listening intently. Or maybe it was because a part of you, one that you were trying your best not to acknowledge in that moment, believed her.
Before Mrs. Cambroni could respond, the bell above the door chimed again, and you both turned to see Nat red faced and out of breath as she looked at you.
“There you are!” She smiled, relaxing as she let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Sorry!” You exclaimed, gathering your seashells and giving Mrs. Cambroni an apologetic smile. “I was getting really hot and I thought I’d stop in here for a few minutes.”
“No, I’m sorry,” Nat said, watching the older woman with a suspicious frown. “I lost track of the time after I texted you.”
You waved to the shop owner as you followed Nat out the door, the sun bathing you in its warm rays. You peered over at your friend, a mischievous smirk on your face as your eyes lowered to her neck.
“Wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that huge hickey on your neck, right?”
Nat’s hand flew up to her neck, cheeks flushing as she tried to splutter out an excuse.
“So,” you chirped as your friend continued to recover her speech. “Which of the boys is it?”
“What makes you so sure it was one of them?” She muttered, the red on her cheeks growing more pronounced.
You ignored her. “My money is on Javy.”
“How did you know?” She shrieked, earning a couple of stares from passersby. You laughed at her expression.
“I didn’t until just now.”
Nat let out a long groan, hiding her face in her hands. You rested a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you said. “I think the two of you are really cute, and I don’t think the others have figured it out yet. I just see the way you two look at each other when you think no one else is. I wish someone would look at me like that.”
Natasha peeked out from behind her fingers, an oddly thoughtful look on her face as she studied you. Before you could ask, she was straightening up, a smile replacing her embarrassment.
“Do you think you could hold off on saying anything?” She asked you. You nodded, holding out your pinky to her. She wrapped her own around it, and the two of you shook on it.
“Scout’s honor, Nat!”
“Good!” She giggled, peering around the boardwalk. “What do you want to hit first?”
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After Nat convinced you to take a ride on the tilt-o-whirl, you were sure you’d never walk straight again. You groaned as you fought to stay upright, nearly crashing into a man as you passed him. Your shoulder bumped his, and you turned around to look at him.
“I am so sorry!” You cried, hands reaching out to steady him, but stopping when you noticed that he was just fine. And staring at you. You gave him a sheepish smile, but the look on his face remained impassive. If the world wasn’t still spinning around you, you might have said that the green in his eyes glowed in the summer light. Natasha laughed beside you, throwing out another apology to the man as she dragged you off.
“Never again, Nat,” you said, suddenly feeling nauseous.
“I’m surprised you managed to make it without hurling!” She cackled, leaning you against the wood railing so you could catch your breath.
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” you muttered, leaning over the side.
“Natasha!”
The both of you turned to see the weathered face of the FBI agent and his partner strolling up to you.
“Oh! Hey, Mr. Kazansky!” She called out with a wave. You turned to face them just as they stopped in front of you.
“C’mon now, Nat. It’s Tom, you know that,” the older man chuckled, eyes moving to you. “And who is this?”
“Y/n,” you introduced yourself, reaching out a hand to shake his. “But everyone just calls me Skipper these days.”
“Ah! You must be the young lady Susan was telling me about the other day,” Tom smiled. “It’s good to finally put a face to a name. This is my partner, Agent Beau Simpson.”
“A pleasure,” the other man said as he shook both of your hands.
“So are you two enjoying the festival so far?” Tom asked, smile still on his face. “This small town isn’t too boring for you, is it, Skipper?”
“Not at all!” You assured him, shaking your head. “I think it’s quite a charming little place! And everyone has been so nice since I got here.”
“That’s good to hear,” he chuckled, eyes falling to your neck. “Where’s the lucky boy?”
You gave him a confused look, and Nat cleared her throat, stepping up.
“It’s so embarrassing,” she started, giving Tom a pointed look. “Javy and I have been seeing each other on the sly for a while now, and I didn’t even think he left a mark. I’ll have to tell him to be more careful next time.”
Tom glanced between the two of you, understanding dawning on his face. He gave another smile.
“Young love is such a wonderful thing, don’t you agree Beau?” He asked his partner, who just smiled in agreement. “Don’t keep it a secret for too long, Nat.”
“Of course,” she smiled.
“You two are being careful, aren’t you?” Asked Agent Simpson. Nat’s face could have been mistaken for a tomato from how hard she was blushing. Agent Simpson seemed to have realized what he said and a blush of his own crept onto his face.
“With the murders, I mean,” he explained quickly. Tom let out a chuckle as Nat cleared her throat. “We just got done giving a press conference. No curfew yet, but we’re advising young ladies to not be out at night on their own until we can find whoever is doing this.”
“Oh, of course!” You said, nodding your head in understanding. “We’re being careful! It’s such a shame what happened.”
“You two were there, weren’t you?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, we were,” you trailed off, feeling the nausea return at the memory of the girl’s body as it lay in the sand. You suppressed a shudder. “It was awful.”
“It was,” Beau agreed, giving you a sympathetic smile. “Which is why we don’t want to see anything happen to anyone else.”
“You don’t have to worry about us,” Nat said, a determined smile on her face as she looked at the two older men. Tom chuckled, eyes moving from her to you, still studying the mark on your neck.
“No,” he said finally. “I don’t suppose we will.”
You couldn’t help but think back to your conversation with Mrs. Cambroni.
As long as that bite remains on your neck, every sea person who lays eyes on it will know that you are spoken for.
“Well,” Tom started, eyes looking over your shoulder now, “you two ladies have fun! We won’t keep you any longer.”
He made to move, and Agent Simpson made to follow after him. The dark haired man stopped just after he passed you.
“Oh,” he said, “And don’t hesitate to let us know if you see anything suspicious, yeah?”
“We will!” Nat called after him as she started dragging you in the opposite direction. The whole exchange felt weird to you. Why had Tom asked Nat about who the lucky man was when he was looking at your neck? Why did he keep starting at it at all? What had he meant by not having to worry?
You took a deep breath, deciding that you were overthinking the matter and that Mrs. Cambroni’s stories had just gotten in your head. But even as you had made your mind up to ignore your questions, you couldn’t help but feel a pulse come from the base of your neck as if it were begging you to keep questioning.
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oneshotnewbie · 6 months
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Emily PrentissxJennifer JareauxReader:
The reader is working for the BAU and has a really bad migraine (She has chronic migraines but didn't tell anyone). She is really mad and distant toward her friends (you can include the boys too but make me girls main please) and they notice it and have a little intervention with her. After that a lot of fluff where Emily and JJ care for her
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Authors note: Unfortunately I don´t have an Emily Prentiss x Daughter reader story, but I have added a new one to write. Until then, there is only one Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau x Reader story from me today
ᕚ---ᕘ
You could say that you were a person with enormous stamina and a high tolerance level. Something that was a must for anyone who worked as a Supervisory Special Agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and under Aaron Hotch. Many people admired you for not jumping off the next cliff under the unbearable circumstances of this job.
And you yourself sometimes admired your own achievements. But everyone had their limits and it was a recurring thing that happened during your work hours. You ignored the first triggers. You exceeded your physical limits and your migraine appeared.
You could have guessed it when you got back on the plane from Oxford. The terrible serial killer and the panic it caused in the city, the fact that he had abused and murdered seven women. This case had taken more of a toll on you than you would have liked and you tried to deal with your problems in your own way. Which meant you threw yourself into the work, no matter how mundane every clue was and no matter what wall you hit.
“Y/n, maybe you should take a break?” begged Emily, noticing that you were doing everything you could to get Oxford out of your bones as quickly as possible. You, however, waved her off without saying a word and continued to stare at the white board on which every clue was hanging. "Do not need a break, I am fine." The black-haired went along with it, stayed by your side and tolerated your moods even when they drove her crazy.
Non-stop, without a break and with lack of sleep and malnutrition, you battled the nagging headaches and mild nausea. You became more and more tired, yawned and became increasingly sensitive to the loud noises of the office. Something you could tolerate skillfully. But Emily and your colleagues not.
You clearly knew you were on the verge of a migraine when you started seeing visual symptoms of a migraine aura. Your vision became distorted, sometimes weaker, sometimes sharper. For a few minutes you only saw white in your left eye, but you kept going, not giving yourself a break. You knew that no other woman could die because of you.
Hour after hour you were exhausted and just trudged from the office to the coffee machine. With a nasty headache and feeling like you might throw up, you swallowed it all and sat down on a chair while Penelope talked loudly to Derek. You felt like your head was going to explode at any moment from their voices. "Could you PLEASE shut up or at least go to another room to flirt with each other?" you huffed and massaged your temples, their sighs ringing like a hurricane in your ears. "Some people want to work here."
"Babygirl, are you okay?" he asked, surprised at your momentary outburst. He had never been allowed to see you like this, you had never snapped at him. A sharp pain shot through your temples and you hastily stood up. "Hey, cutie pie? What is going on?" the technical analyst also chimed in and waited for any kind of answer.
"I am fine, just leave me alone." your words came out of your mouth hastily and probably slurred, but you did not care. You had to go to the toilet immediately. Without turning around again, you quickly walked out of the office and stumbled in the direction you were heading. Every time you made contact with the ground, the headache got worse and you begged not to throw up on the way. You saw distorted vision in your right eye while small white flashes danced in front of it.
Rushing into the bathroom, you stood in front of the sink, panting and swallowing convulsively. Having migraines was terrible and right now you could not use one. You sighed in relief when you did not throw up, as long as you did not, it was not all that bad.
Loud footsteps sounded outside the door and a knock made your head explode. “Oh, y/n.” A rough voice spoke and you looked in the mirror. Emily and JJ had pushed through the door one after the other and were now standing with their backs to you, their arms crossed over their chests. Furthermore, you paid attention to your reflection in the mirror, which said that any idiot could see that a corpse in pathology looked healthier than you. So did the trained agents on your team. "What is wrong?"
You did not even hear half of the sentence, the second word was the end of it. You ran into one of the stables, fell to your knees and managed to bend over the toilet just in time. You squeezed your eyes shut as tears streamed down your cheeks and you threw up violently. “y/n?” the blondes voice had an worried undertone and you did not notice her standing strictly behind you. The next thing you felt were cool hands on your neck and shoulders.
Jerking away from the touch, leaning your head back against the wall as you pulled your knees into your body. You tried to block so many sounds and other sensations from your body, while only this crushing and throbbing pain existed in your head.
Once again you felt cold hands on your skin and everything in you protested as they helped him to his feet, an arm was placed around your shoulder and led you out of the bathroom and through the hallway. Soon your face made contact with a pillow and a relieved sigh rolled past your lips. You did not know where you were, just that it was quiet. Still, your currently oversensitive ears heard Hotch appearing to be talking to Emily, JJ, and the rest of the group. "No, we have no idea what is going on."
“Did you ask her?”
"We tried, but we got no response." at some point there was an angry snort at the blonde's answer and there were more footsteps in front of the door. The squeaking sound echoed through your head, pounding inside before the space on the couch shrank and a shadow appeared in front of you. "Sweetie, cards on the table. Tell us what is going on?"
The voice of the of the blonde was painful, yet it was strangely comforting to hear a familiar and loving voice. Still, you flinched violently as something cool was brushed onto your forehead. The nausea slowly subsided. "Chronic migraines since adolescence. But not so severe for a while."
Long fingers tugged at the disheveled and stray strands of hair on your face before she stood up again and walked to the windows. The room darkened, blinds closed and you moaned pleasantly. After making a trip to the door, she told the expected teammates what you had told her. You only heard a quiet "I will stay with her, but someone has to get me the medication out of my bag," before the door closed quietly and she sat down on the office chair, looking over you thoughtfully.
JJ waited for Emily to come back with some things and watched you laying there in pain, exhausted and completely distracted by the thunder in your head, trying to be as silent as she could. A few minutes later, the door opened again. You saw Emily through squinted eyes and spotted a bucket in her hand, a bowl of water, wipes under her arms and a large disposable syringe.
"What do you want to inject into me?" you asked surprised and a little frightened by the size of the abnormally large syringe. The blonde knelt down in front of you, pulling up your sweater and waiting for the black-haired one to hand it over. "Metoclopramide,"
"How do you know what to inject into me and where did you get it from?"
"You are not the only one who gets migraines. I used to get them often enough and since then I have always had an injection with me to protect myself from them in case they happen again." she frowned and laughed quietly. You nodded in acceptance and there was a moment of silence before a hot, stabbing pain shot through your lower torso and you cried out. "That hurts!"
Emily sat on the armrest and slipped her fingers between your own. You squeezed it tightly and she hoped to take the temporary pain away from you. "Why did not you tell us?" the black-haired asked sadly you huffed through gritted teeth. "I did not want to be a burden to you. I did not want to seem weak," you replied, shrugging.
"It was stupid of you not to say anything. At least to JJ or me." She paused briefly and you raised your head in confusion before nodding in understanding and looking over at the blonde. With a half-smile, she placed a band-aid on the wound and placed a thin blanket over your legs. "Okay. Next time I will let you know, I promise."
They both nodded and stood up. While JJ was putting away the trash, Emily leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head before she disappeared out of the door. "I will make you some tea,"
"You never make tea."
"I will do it today for a very special and stubborn person." She spoke in a whisper, winking at you. You laughed quietly and already felt a million times better than you did a few minutes ago. With a yawn, you sank deeper into the pillow and watched as the blonde turned on a small lamp at the desk in the dark room so she could continue working. "Thanks,"
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stra-tek · 6 months
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Big List of Universes in Star Trek:
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Prime
Where most of Trek takes place. TOS, TNG, DS9, VOY, ENT, DSC, LWD, PRO, PIC, SNW etc. Gets a bit complicated in that the Temporal Wars from Enterprise have explicitly rewritten some events but for the most part it's all one enormous continuity. Just don't ask about the Eugenics Wars
Kelvin
Where the rebooted movies take place, essentially Prime until the day of Jim Kirk's birth, when a Romulan from the Prime future appears and begins wreaking havok, sending events on a familiar but different path with more running and explosions
Mirror
The morally inverted version of the Prime universe. Often the same people in the same place at the same time as Prime except under radically different circumstances. The Kelvin timeline has it's own mirror universe and the Coda books imply they're different sides of the same coin so perhaps every universe has it's mirror. Everyone dresses very slutty and all the women are at the very least bi. Almost as if it was written by men to appeal to teenage boys.
The First Splinter
Where the entire Star Trek novelverse takes place. Essentially Prime up until First Contact, although many events after that tie into ones hundreds of years before so it's all a bit complicated. Hundreds of stories exist here, as varied and amazing and sometimes awful as the TV shows and movies. Erased from history in 2387 but everyone you've loved and read about for years die horrible, horrible deaths first
Megas Tu
Accessed through a portal at the centre of our galaxy, a universe where magic is real and the source of many Earth myths and legends. Lucien is Satan but he's actually a pretty cool guy. Kirk and Spock learned to use magic there.
Parallels
300,000 universes converge, ranging from ones where Worf has a different painting in his quarters to him banging Troi to the Borg having conquered the Federation
Reverse
Black stars on a white void, ships fly backwards, at warp 36, the elderly grow young and live backwards and I'm afraid to ask how this reverse life ends
Second History
From the novel Killing Time. Super gay and angsty. Romulans alter history, leading to Spock being captain and Jim Kirk being a drug addict ensign on the V.S.S. ShiKahr
Renegades
A bootleg version of Star Trek in a fan film universe, altered on day two of filming after the Axanar drama began. It's Star Trek with the serial numbers just barely filed off. The Confederation instead of the Federation, Sector 6 instead of Section 31, Kovok instead of Tuvok, Jemison instead of Uhura, Rigillians instead of Romulans and so on. 2 novels were released which try to differentiate the universes more clearly, and the last Renegades film Ominara re-reboots the whole thing and features an Uhura-ish character and the Star Trek ish sets, but otherwise everything else is different.
Fascistverse
Created by Q to test Jean-Luc and friends in season 2 of Picard, this was along the lines of the Mirror universe but with a divergence point in 2024, if Trump wins the election if Picard's ancestor Renee goes into space or not.
Musical
A crossover with this universe in SNW "Subspace Rhapsody" leads to the quadrant singing uncontrollably, accompanied by music and with full choreography.
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designation-zi · 15 days
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Murder Drones Timeline of Events
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Disclaimer: Most of this is speculation based off of background details and conjecture. Subject to change. If you notice anything I missed feel free to comment and I’ll make adjustments :)
Proceeding Events:
Sometime in the Future, around the 31st Century
- Humanity becomes advanced enough to venture into space and establish colonies and civilizations on exoplanets in other solar systems. Some of these include the “Proxima System”, “Plat-Binary System”, and the “Copper System.”
- JCJenson, an interstellar megacorporation creates a brand of autonomous robots known as “Worker Drones” to serve humanity and mine resources on the exoplanets. One of these planets is Copper-9 from the Copper System.
- Worker Drones are heavily abused and mistreated by humans, often being improperly disposed of and thrown into landfills.
- JCJenson is aware of the fact their drones have a chance of self rebooting if disposed of incorrectly, dubbing these “Zombie Drones.” This can happen if the drone and their core wasn’t properly disconnected and destroyed, or the software cleanup program “wdOS_606” wasn’t installed or was interrupted or rejected (even up to five years later.) The company is also aware that among these instances, there’s also a chance of the drone developing “Hazardous Mutations.”
- Camp 98.7 is established in the year 3002 on Copper-9.
Humanity’s Downfall:
Year still unknown, but still in the 31st Century
-Underneath a landfill of discarded drones on Earth, presumably in Australia, a drone with a P/N starting with “CYN” self reboots. A so called program named the “Absolute Solver” seemingly contacts her through her broken visor and appears to make a deal with her, promising not to “discard her.” This is how the Solver gets its first host. It’s not known if the Solver took complete control there or if Cyn’s possession was a process.
- The landfill is close by to the mansion of a wealthy human family known as the Elliotts. Their daughter “Tessa James Elliott” enjoys retrieving discarded drones from the landfill so she can repair them. These drones become part of the manor’s wait staff, but Tessa treats them like people and as her friends, even giving them wigs so they can have identifying traits — much to the annoyance of her parents.
- Among the drones Tessa has brought home three are known as N, V, and J due to their serial designation numbers visible on their yellow armbands. It can be noted that it seems Tessa scratched out the “Marked For Disassembly” on the bands with sharpie after she repaired them.
- One day Tessa finds Cyn in the dump and brings her home. She introduces her to N, V, and J shortly after.
- N treats Cyn kindly, and she refers to him as her big brother.
- An unknown amount of time passes and eventually Tessa seems to become unnerved around Cyn due to the drone’s odd behaviour and mannerisms. J often locks Cyn in the library basement because of this.
- Many of Tessa’s drones seem to mysteriously contract some sort of error which leaves them in a catatonic state with their visors flashing a large yellow X alongside the words “error 606” (note that 606 matches the software cleanup program’s name of wdOS_606.) Because of this they are placed into the library. One of these drones is V, who N regularly visits so he can try and talk to her and read to her.
- The Elliotts’s decide to throw a gala at their manor alongside another family called the Frumptlebuckets (lol.) An interesting observation is that these wealthy humans (or at least those in the Elliott’s social circle) apparently like to dress up and act similar to those from around the Victorian era.
- Cyn escapes from the basement and convinces N to attend the gala, so they head to the ballroom to ask Tessa. This ends up leading to an altercation with Tessa’s mother Louisa where she orders Tessa to dump Cyn and all of her other “broken” drones in the library back into the landfill.
- Cyn talks back to Louisa, but N takes the fall for her and ends up being chained outside next to a dead drone that had been picked apart by a flock of crows. Meanwhile, Tessa has been chained up in her bedroom alongside J and Cyn as punishment. This, alongside an earlier scene where she seemingly rubs her wrist in pain implies this happens fairly often to her and highlights that her parents are abusive.
- Tessa berates Cyn for N taking the blame for her, angered that N may end up dead. However, Cyn seems indifferent and calmly claims she has “backups” of N.
- Cyn transforms into her horrific eldritch Solver form and claims Tessa won’t have to “discard her pets” and that she won’t discard her either. She leaves out the window after warning Tessa to stay away from the gala due to her seeming squeamish, revealing her intent to massacre the humans.
- Wanting to save everyone from being killed, Tessa gets J to break their chains and the two of them sneak out and arm themselves with a revolver and sword respectively. Despite this, after they arrive everyone is massacred anyways thanks to Cyn/the Solver corrupting the other Worker Drones, including J, who shuts the door so Tessa can’t escape.
- It’s assumed N escapes being killed by the crows and walks in on Cyn slaughtering the humans at the gala due to a brief flashback of him seeing Cyn eating a human hand (when he touches the Zombie Drones VHS tape.)
- Tessa is killed, and in a twisted way of sticking to her word of not discarding her, Cyn skins her corpse to graft it onto her drone body. (Due to an image of humans in hazmat suits finding Tessa surrounded by the remains of the people from the gala, it’s not fully known if Cyn also killed her at the gala and then posed as her, or if she was killed shortly afterwards.)
- Cyn converts the drones from the manor, including N, V, and J into deadly “Disassembly Drones.” They are given a “nerfed” version of the Solver that Cyn has admin access over to better remain control over them. Their memories are erased before setting them loose to slaughter the rest of the humans on Earth. Sometime after, the Solver causes the planet to implode into a black hole.
- The other colonies on the human exoplanets catch wind of what’s happened back on Earth, so JCJenson establishes “Cabin Fever Labs” to research the Solver and how to stop it.
- One of these labs is established on Copper-9 at Camp 98.7 and its surrounding mineshafts (and a cathedral that was there for some reason.) Multiple drones are purposely given the Solver, notably Nori (002) and Yeva (048.)
- The other exoplanets of the Proxima and Plat-Binary systems are corrupted and wiped out due to the Solver spreading and the Disassembly Drones presumably being sicced there.
- Nori ends up becoming possessed by the Solver. Eventually the JCJenson scientists on Copper-9 are able to create a Crucifix USB patch that can get rid of the Solver’s hold on its hosts. This patch is seemingly only successfully used on Yeva. Unfortunately, before it can be used on Nori, the Solver uses her to kill all the scientists except for an intern named Mitchell who had mistakenly put on the wrong uniform of a doctor and had been sent to fetch Yeva.
- Before the Solver can kill Mitchell after he returns, Yeva saves him and throws the USB into Nori’s face which frees her from its control, but also leaves her mind scrambled. However, the Solver is still able to create a small black hole with Nori’s hand that Yeva is forced to cut off. It’s sent falling into a pit to the planet’s core that the Solver had opened up prior.
- Copper-9’s planetary core partly implodes which wipes all organic life off the planet and turns it into a frozen wasteland. (Don’t worry. The dogs had been evacuated beforehand.) It seems a group of humans tried to survive by cryogenically freezing themselves in a bunker called “Outpost 3” in one of Copper-9’s cities. This didn’t work due to the computer having an error. This leaves the Worker Drones to inherit the planet and embrace their freedom.
Aftermath:
Year still unknown
- Nori and Yeva escape Cabin Fever Labs, while other test subjects such as Alice (017) are left behind to try and survive the lab’s Anti Drone sentinels. Nori meets a drone named Khan Doorman and ends up marrying him while Yeva also finds herself a husband.
- Uzi Doorman and Doll are created by their parents uploading parts of their code into Untrained Neural Networks and they both inherit their mothers’ connections to the Solver.
- The Doorman family experiences moments of happy family memories until Nori begins to have “kooky insane” ramblings and visions about the Solver and Disassembly Drones which she refers to as “Sky Demons” as a result of her brain being scrambled from the USB patch.
- Nori tries to warn the other drones and tells Khan to build doors to shelter themselves from the upcoming dangers.
Return of the Solver:
Sometime before the year 3071
- Cyn/The Solver sends squads of Disassembly Drones to Copper-9. Their memories are wiped and they are made to believe they were created and sent by the humans of JCJenson to eliminate the rogue Worker Drone population. Their directive also involves piling their kills into a “Corpse Spire” and locating Cabin Fever Labs. Cyn also wants to kill all other Solver hosts for an unknown reason.
- The squad consisting of N, V, and J lands close to the bunker of Outpost 3 and begin killing any Worker Drones they come across.
- V is seemingly the only Disassembly Drone that has retained some memory of Cyn and the Solver. She keeps this to herself and follows her directive so Cyn will leave her alone. Additionally, she also pretends to forget about N, believing this will protect him.
- A colony of Worker Drones takes shelter in Outpost 3 where Khan starts to build protective doors like his wife had requested. Around this time Nori is stung with a Disassembly Drone’s nanite acid. Khan uses a wrench to put her out of her misery. However, unbeknownst to anyone else, Nori manages to survive in her Solver core/heart form and goes back to Cabin Fever Labs so she can look for the Crucifix USB Patch.
- V kills Doll’s parents. Doll witnesses this while hiding and the trauma seemingly causes her Solver abilities to begin manifesting.
- The “Worker Drone Defence Force” is established in Outpost 3 with Khan as the leader. Unfortunately, they don’t really try to defend anything and just play cards behind the doors.
- The other Disassembly Drone squads that make it to Cabin Fever Labs are killed by either the Sentinels or Alice and (presumably) her son Beau. Alice scavenges parts from Disassembly Drones and Worker Drones to add to herself and Beau since he is stuck in an Untrained Neural Network body. She also learns to put the Solver cores in heat as it “makes them sluggish.”
Year 3071
- The events of episodes 1 - 7 occur
• Recent Revelation: At the end of episode 3 Cyn arrives on Copper-9 impersonating an older Tessa. She is accompanied by a backed up copy of J who was previously killed by Uzi in episode 1. It’s currently unknown if J is aware that Tessa is actually dead.
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eyeodyssey · 9 months
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Photos from the Tokyo Grand Guignol stage play Galatia Teito Monogatari, based loosely on the Teito Monogatari serial of epic dark sci fi occult horror books. Despite sharing its basis with a greatly influential series which spawned several films (the first Teito Monogatari adaption even featuring special effects designed by H.R. Giger) and a set of animated horror films, Galatia remains the most obscure of the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s productions. Very sparse information of its contents exist online. On one specific page I found a month back, a (very poorly translated) English synopsis describes the play as being a story about a machine that destroys a major city in Japan. It’s unclear if the machine they’re referring to is in reference to a humanoid robot or a more generalized weapon. It’s said that in the play, Kyusaku Shimada appears as a mad scientist who creates the oxygen destroyer from Godzilla (1954). In a description of the ending, the finale depicts a scenario where the character Yasunori Katō (a demon that manifests itself as an imperial army First Lieutenant) welcomes one of the characters to what he refers to as the “new imperial city”. He reveals to the character a supernatural landscape where various children’s toys and dolls across the stage come to life and move around on their own, all to the sounds of marching drums and claps of thunder. All images were digitized by yours truly, with the sources being volume 28 of Yaso magazine and the Suehiro Maruo-focused magazine Only You, which features a digest version of Galatia’s screenplay. Of course, with the screenplay (or at least a condensed version of it) in my possession, I plan to translate it to English some way or another down the line. This adaption would help start off Shimada’s professional acting career, with Shimada having his first major cinematic role as Yasunori Katō in the film Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis. As mentioned though, Shimada doesn’t act as Katō in the Tokyo Grand Guignol version. That role was instead designated to Yaguruma Kennosuke, who would later appear as Raizou in the original performances of Lychee Hikari Club.
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Yaguruma Kennosuke as Raizou in Lychee's December 1985 performance, apprehending the Marquis de Maruo (performed by Suehiro Maruo) when he enters the Hikari Club's hideout. Kennosuke is on the right side of Maruo, with Hiroyuki Tsunekawa (Zera) standing aside Kennosuke with his bag of lychee fruits. As a side note, you've gotta appreciate how despite then being well into a Maruo-flavored era of underground culture, there are still the occasional callbacks to Terayama's legacy, hence the clock that Katō is seen holding in the first photo.
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