Fascinated by the darkness — but never mistaking it for light.
I've analyzed, criticized, and explained why the relationship between Hua Yong and Shao You in ABO Desire is fundamentally broken. But today, I want to approach it from a different angle. My problem was never just with the couple, the writer, or even the Omegaverse — it's with the act of romanticizing the toxicity.
Here’s the core of it: you’re allowed to like toxic pairings. The problem begins when you start believing that kind of dynamic isn’t just compelling, but actually romantic.
Let me use myself as an example: I love characters with pathological jealousy. That chaotic, obsessive, possessive dynamic? It absolutely enthralls me. But the key is, I see it for what it is — toxic behavior. I enjoy it consciously, without ever pretending it’s a blueprint for a healthy relationship.
To illustrate this crucial difference, let’s take a more dramatic example — Queen Mantis. Both main suspects were saved by the same serial killer, who liberated them from abusive situations. Both admire her as a mother figure. But here’s where they diverge radically:
Suspect A (The Admirer): He reveres her, even building altars with her crime scene photos. He became a private detective — a morally gray profession, but one that still stays within the bounds of the law. He’s also the childhood friend of the killer’s biological son, who despises his mother, creating a stark moral contrast. Despite his devotion, he knows she’s a murderer and has never crossed that line himself.
Suspect B (The Disciple): He didn’t just admire her; he internalized her worldview. After being freed by her, he adopted her ideology entirely — changing his identity, mirroring her crimes, and killing anyone who stood in his way. What began as admiration became imitation.
See the difference?
One understands the darkness from a critical distance. The other embodies it. That’s the same line that exists in fandom.
You can be thrilled by a toxic dynamic — whether it’s in ABO Desire or anywhere else — while being fully aware that it’s wrong, destructive, and not something to idealize. Enjoying darkness in fiction shouldn’t make you feel guilty; fiction is a safe space to explore, confront, and process what would be unacceptable in real life.
The danger lies in doing what Suspect B did: blurring the line until toxicity becomes normalized, justified, or — worse — romanticized.
So like what you like. Ship what you ship. But be more like Suspect A: aware of the darkness, fascinated by it maybe, but never mistaking it for light.
