#but i'm pretty sure at least half of those are abandoned blogs

[saturnsorbits]

Hold your Peace

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Angst, Smut, Cheating, Spit, Unprotected Sex, Breeding. Word Count: 2.8k.

Summary: Shindo has never let anything get in the way of a quickie, not even his own wedding reception.

A/N: I felt like taking someone new, and a little more challenging for a spin... That and the idea just didn't quite fit Kirishima (I've put that poor man through enough, I think).

-> Rewritten and Re-Uploaded from Old Blog.

'To the happy couple!' Shikkui raises his glass and beams, winking at the bride. 'Always knew Yo would bag himself a winner...'

The reception is beautiful and so is she. Wrapped in a delicate white lace gown and decorated with diamonds that rest prettily around her throat, the new Mrs Shindo is a vision. She's grinning, rose-bud lips parting as she leans into her new husband, her hand wrapping his, their love on display for everyone to see.

You sigh into your wine, tug at the too-tight hem of your dress and pretend. You pretend to be happy, pretend to care about their union, pretend not to feel sick. It gets easier when Shikkui finally wraps up his impromptu speech that no-body asked for, once the first dance is over and you're left to sit at your table and hope for the night to end quickly. That isn't to say that it doesn't still sting.

'I'm so glad you could make it! Yo was beside himself when you said you might have to miss it for work, he sulked for weeks.' Nakagame smiles down at you. Her hands are clasped together showing off the neat silver band slipped onto her finger. She catches you staring, mistakes your lingering gaze for admiration and offers out her hand

'Do you like it? Yo picked it out himself...'

You have to swallow the bile in your throat before you reply. 'It's pretty.'

Shindo wraps his arms around his bride's waist. His finger dig into her flesh, denting the delicate lace detailing over her hip as he drags her close and kisses her cheek.

You offer him a smile.

He's doing that thing again. The one where he's talking about his wife, while looking directly at you.

'Want to see mine?'

His hand is shoved under your nose before you can decline the offer and then, you're reaching out. Brushing a thumb over the metal, you turn the ring slightly on his finger. It's cold. The tips of his fingers accidentally ghost yours when he retracts his hand, or at least it looks like an accident.

Nakagame smooths down his suit jacket, fingers kneading at the thick muscle underneath before excusing both of them. 'We should really get back to the table...'

He agrees, offers you one of those bright smiles and lets his new bride lead him back to the head table.

You're glad when he leaves. His absence let's you breathe, even if just for a second. You're not even sure what you're doing here. Shindo had whined something fierce when he'd pressed the invitation into your hand and you're suggested that, maybe, your presence might not be a welcomed one. He'd bat those pretty eyelashes at you and taken your cheeks into his hand before pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose with a breathy 'please' and well... You've never been very good at disappointing him.

From across the room, you catch him staring. He's leaning over his bride, ignoring her fingers as they tangle into his suit jacket. He whispers something to her that makes her release him and smile.

Someone cheers and then Shindo's straightening himself, fixing his blazer and wiping the wetness from his bottom lip with a soft smile. He makes a brief, slightly dismissive gesture towards the source of the noise and dismisses himself to slide down one of the thin hallways from the main atrium of the building.

He doesn't have to tell you to follow.

You're already on your feet, making some half-arsed excuse about too much wine and needing to pee before abandoning your chair. Skirting around the edge of the reception, you try and silence the guilt that bubbles in your stomach when you catch Itejiro's eye from across the room. He licks his lips, a faint blush tinting his cheeks as he drops his eyes with a miniscule shake of his head. You swallow around the lump in your throat, but it's not enough to stop the gentle tapping of your heels as you slip into the hallway and then, through the ajar door of the bathroom.

Shindo locks the door behind you. His mouth meets yours at the same time as your back collides with the door and you welcome his tongue when he presses it to your lips, letting him taste the sweetness of the wine you've been drinking.

At some point, it had stopped feeling like cheating. You had been the first, after all. One drunken night had been all that it took for him to realise that your body fit him like no-one else's would and six months later, while spread out underneath him, you'd come to realise that no-one could make you feel the way he could. The sex was incredible; which was probably why you'd never stopped. You didn't stop fucking when he started dating that brunette from the agency, or when his first long-term girlfriend found out about you and left him for it. You fucked before anniversary dinners, after break-ups, in-between lovers and now, in bathrooms at wedding receptions.

You don't quite know how you managed to miss each other so thoroughly. How there was never a moment of clarity. Instead, time had left you behind and introduced new things into your lives. Promotions and new life events marred the romance you'd once assumed would blossom and now, now this was all you had left.

Sure, you could stop, but losing him now would feel too much like losing yourself...

He pulls back once he's had his fill. With flushed cheeks and blown pupils, he brings a thumb to your chin and gently pulls open your jaw to spit on the flat plain of your tongue.

You let him. Welcome it. The wetness hits your tongue, a thin string connecting his lips to your mouth for just a moment before you swallow.

'This is new.' His eyes flicker downwards to rake over the length of your body. 'You look pretty.' He means it, even though he shouldn't.

'She looks pretty too.' You start, giving in to the acid in your stomach and letting it coat your words. It's a game you play. This back and forth, your lame attempts to voice the guilt – it's all part of the routine, but if you're looking for a rise out of him, you don't get it, you never do.

Instead, he leans back in. His tongue traces your throat and curls at the edge of your jawline, lapping at your skin as he purrs into your ear. 'Jealous, baby?'

Of course, you're jealous. Who wouldn't be when there's another woman with his ring on her finger. The same woman who's currently enjoying her wedding reception while her husband of less than three hours begins to lift the hem of your dress. You squirm. Then again, she doesn't get to see him like this, does she? No-one gets to see the real Shindo. The man who hides behind that polite attitude and all those bright smiles. No. No-one, but you gets to see the fire and filth underneath.

And only a fool would give that up.

His fingers ghost your bare thigh, tickle the edge of your hips and follow the hem of your underwear down to the seat. 'Don't be jealous.' A knuckle brushes against your clothed clit causing your body to tremble. Your shoulders hunch, inching up the door as your chest is forced to his.

'Don't have to be jealous...' He kisses your cheek, nibbles at your ear lobe. 'I'm here, aren't I?'

The guilt in your stomach twists, but it's heat is overtaken by the inferno caused by his fingers as they slip through your folds. Your body responds to him like it always does. There's a tightness in your stomach, a shiver left on your skin where he's touching you and you're wet, so fucking wet for him.

Collecting the slick from your cunt, Shindo slips his fingers into his mouth. He hums, savouring your taste with shining eyes. 'Couldn't wait... Got hard just looking at you, this fucking dress...' A growl slips his throat as he paws at the material. '...Almost killed me.'

His words go straight to your cunt. The sound of him swallowing your arousal and licking it from his lips makes your knees weak. This. This is the problem. Desperation snakes around your insides and tightens your stomach. It stops you thinking about how wrong all this is. Now, here, in this moment there isn't anything, but you and him. Your hands tug at his waistband and pop the button of his suit pants, shoving both them and his boxers down just low enough to let his cock spring free. It slaps back, hard and leaking against his stomach.

Kissing your neck, his voice is heavy when it snakes into your ears. 'Fuck. Got to be – got to be quick, okay?'

You nod and whine when his fingers go back to your cunt. He's big. Too big to take without a fair amount of fore-play, but you've become accustomed to the stretch, come to crave the ache in your pelvis and the tears that you know will spring to your eyes.

'You can take it, huh, baby?' He tugs your underwear aside unceremoniously and rubs a few rough circles into your clit before he's bending at the knees to hook his arms under your thighs. There's no slow decent, no gradual inching of your body down onto his cock. There's just Shindo's fingers loosening on your thighs and then a sudden, painful fullness.

Hauled up the door, you reach for him, nails digging into his shoulders as you suppress the need to cry out. Your cunt welcomes him in, sucking and moulding around his cock so easily it's sickening. With shaking thighs you cling to his hips, taking deep steadying breaths as your forced to feel all of him.

'Shh. I know, I know... That'a girl. Fuck...' He breaths, arms shuddering as he adjusts to your tension. 'You'd take anything I'd give you, wouldn't you, anything at all.' Lifting you up, he waits only half a second before dropping you back down and earning a yelp from your throat. 'I know it hurts baby, I know... Gonna make you feel good though, yeah. I'll make you feel so fucking good.'

You moan, head tipping backwards as they first signs of pleasure begin to stir in your stomach.

The exposed stretch of your throat attracts his tongue. He laps along your pulse line, lips pressing down periodically followed by the dull scratching of teeth. Each bite is practised, hard enough to make your back arch, but light enough not to leave a mark. His lips leave your throat, tickle your jaw and then, slip against yours. 'So – fucking tight for me, fuck. Gonna – shit, you're gonna make me cum.'

'Inside.' It falls out of your mouth wrapped in a plea. You'd started letting him cum inside of you when he told that she wouldn't and somewhere down the line you'd come to like it: come to need it. 'Want it... Need – need you to...'

'Okay, baby, okay.' Your words cause a new fire to bubble in his stomach. The image of you dripping with him sends a shiver down his spine and causes his hips to jerk harder as his cock presses in deep making you whine. He silences your whimpers with a kiss, but you can feel him smiling against your mouth when his lips meet your skin. It's messy, off centred and desperate, but then again, he's always desperate for you, isn't he? 'Cum for me then, baby. Cum for me and I'll fuck you full, yeah. Breed you, huh, would you like that?'

You don't think about the cold metal ring, even when you can feel it digging into the flesh of your thigh. You can't. Not when Shindo's cock pulses inside of you, hitting the spongy roof of your cunt and expelling any conscious thought from you. The tell-tale tightness in your stomach tells you that you're close to your end and your cunt flutters, creaming anxiously around his length. You run your hand through his hair and wrench back his head pulling his nose from the crook of your neck.

He meets your eye immediately, his gaze hungry as he fucks into you, thighs tensing against the rhythmic pulsing of your cunt as you cum and milk him for all that he's worth. 'That's it – that's – look at you. Fucking beauty.' He growls, teeth bared as he watches you cum undone around him. 'That's my girl.'

A pitiful whine leaves your throat. 'Yours?'

'Yeah...' There's a smirk on his face, a viciousness that twists his lip with each thrust that puts him closer to release. 'Say it. Tell me.'

Your cunt is raw, but it's not the overstimulation that brings tears to your eyes this time. ''m yours.'

Shindo kisses away the tears. 'Tell me again.'

'I'm yours Yo... Always – always yours.'

His thrusts pick up, grow more frantic with each choked sob that leaves your chest, each strangled admission as he gets off to the tears swimming in your eyes. 'Gonna cum – gonna fill you, fuck... Make sure this little cunt is mine, yeah. All fucking mine.' He cums hard.

A warmth spreads through your stomach as he pours himself inside of you, painting your insides white. Panting, he lets you down. His forehead rests against yours, his hands still planted firmly on your hips as you shimmy your dress back down to cover the mess he's made underneath.

'You're gonna be the death of me.'

'Good job it's not me you married then, I'd already be a widow.' You slip the comment out while holding back tears. It always hurts afterwards. The knowing he's not yours while he's still dripping down your thighs.

'Don't be like that.' He kisses you delicately, his lips moving against yours slowly as he savours the last of the whimpers that leak from your mouth. Taking your chin between thumb and forefinger, he brings your eyes to his again. 'Mine... Remember?'

For a second you think you'll finally ask: why? Why, after all this time, haven't you found your way to each other. Why your love has been forced to warp, forced to contort to fit around everything else in each others lives... But then, there's a bang at the door and you're forced from the moment, once again. It's Shikkui.

'Dude, snap it off – your wife is looking for you.' He laughs. The noise blends with the music outside as he wraps on the door again. 'C'mon, if you leave her alone for too long she might run off with me!'

You think that might not be a bad idea.

'I'm coming!' Shindo rolls his eyes as his voice fills with lightness again. He presses another kiss to your lips. 'Sorry.'

You wrap your fist in his shirt, feeling your heart stain the further away he moves from you. 'See me next week?'

'Honeymoon.'

'Oh. Yeah.'

'I'm free the week after.' He smiles, a fondness you've never seen in his eyes for his wife shining in his iris'. 'I'll stay over.'

'What about -.'

'Let me worry about her...' He shifts backwards, beginning to tuck himself into his pants. You help him tidy his hair back into it's bun and then, he's tossing you one of his signature smiles and hiding you behind the door before throwing open the door to the cheers of the grooms men.

You stay hidden, squashed by the door until you hear the footsteps recede back down the hallway and into the main room. Slipping out of the bathroom, you scurry back down the hall and find your table again.

No-one asks where you've been, but all that means is that you don't have to come up with a half-hearted lie. Instead, you top off your wine and take a gulp, pushing away the sight of Shindo pressing his lips to his brides cheek.

You're stopped from drowning yourself in a fifth glass of wine later on, when the night is finally, thankfully, winding down. Wriggling in your seat, you can feel Shindo's cum dripping from your cunt and into your underwear when Nakagame finds her way to your table. She plops down in a chair opposite you and cups her head in her hand, a tired smile itching her lips.

'Enjoy yourself?' She reaches for your wine glass, tugs the stem towards her and sips from it's edge.

You swallow. 'It was a beautiful ceremony.'

Snorting, she takes another sip and sets it back on the table only to run a finger around it's rim and shrug when you eye her suspiciously. 'Oh, come on.' Flashing white teeth, she stands, making sure you catch the sight of the glistening ring on her finger as she does. 'It's not like we're not used to sharing now, is it?'

-> Masterlist

[lowlyroach]

500) Ghost

I wanted to do something for this one

Half of a thousand

And I bet most still have some relation to you

I was going to go through them all

And count

But, instead

I'll write about Today.

Today is robotic again

Callous

I feel I am losing sympathy

Empathy evading me

It's not unfamiliar

I was like this for a long time

I just don't have capacity for care

Outwardly, at least

Is it disassociation?

Am I halfway up in the ceiling

Defense mechanism for pain

Exhaustion hangs like a curtain over my eyes

All I want to do is sleep until I've died

What do I say, except

It's whatever.

It doesn't matter.

You haven't been around for a while

A month since I've seen you

I want to believe it wasn't your desire

Or intention

To just, leave

To ghost me without a word

You said you'd be around

That you chase by not ever truly leaving

Then where did you go?

Remember when you told me

You don't mind fighting for me?

That if I tried to run

You wouldn't let me?

That I can talk to you about anything?

That you'd be right there when I was ready

You listened to me pee, after all

You said you loved me.

I never responded that day.

When I ran, you let me

But I was always watching you

Visiting the mall

And checking in

I was always there to make sure you were

Doing alright

i was just afraid of you leaving again

Are you leaving, again, bug?

A photo of your back

I'm always looking at your back.

I don't have enough photos of you

I'm always watching everyone walk away

When I fight it's not enough

It's too late

Nothing changes

An agoraphobic best friend who

Never came back

And is he dead?

And another who

Left both of us for other friends

And it's tough thinking about always leaving

Always leaving

Do I have abandonment issues?

Where did these come from?

Or is this just something new

Born from this thorny pain

It comes to cruel realizations of

Watching people leave

And when I reach out

They don't come back

I didn't really mind letting anyone else go

Except you.

I'm worried about you

I want to know if you're okay

If something happened

Who can I talk to?

Nobody knows I've still been

Talking to you

if they did you might be ruined, so

What am I meant to do?

A sign that you're alright

Just tell me you don't want to talk to me

Say anything

Say anything

Tell me that you've been hiding

That you're leaving

That I'm just not good for you

That you hate that

I'm just not good for me

Just tell me something

I'm worried

I'm so worried about you

Do I try to reach out to your best friend

To call the restaurant you work at

Did you work there, today?

Or the tattoo shop?

Do I just do nothing

But sit and wait?

Are you still here, somewhere

Hiding?

it's not like you have a blog where you post

All the poetry of what you feel

How inconvenient that is.

I don't know if I can afford to hope

That you aren't just leaving

That I can afford that awful curse of

Hope

That I can raise my standards

That you're not

Gone, without a trace

And I don't want to step on your toes

On your life, again

But you left me without an orbit

Silence, and the star is swallowed

And I beg and I hear nothing

So where did you go, Ghost?

Oh, there's the emotions again

Let me reel those in

Just cry and let it out

Let it out.

Let it out.

A girl slapped me at work today

When I asked her to

It reminded me of you

And the butterflies came alive again

Thinking about your hand on my face

She asked if I liked to be praised

Or degradated more

Which kink do I prefer?

I like them both but

Maybe degradation

I am a bit masochistic, after all

Maybe

I don't need love

Just hit me

I don't need you to love me

Just hit me

Just hit me

Then call me pretty

Don't leave me alone

For so long I've been searching

For something that felt like a home

Without the threat of pencil graphite

Still stuck in my shoulder

It's been 15 years since my brother

Jumped off the stage

Just to slam the pencil into me

And I still see it there as a reminder

Of his cruelty

And a home without

The cops getting called to pull mom

To a prison cell

After drinking and almost

Crushing her child's feet beneath

The kitchen island

And a home where

When I walked down the street and called

My friends

They wouldn't tell me that

'It's not a good time, right now'

When I needed help

The night when I earned this ugly knuckle

On my right hand

And I'm sorry I never responded

And I'm sorry I'm so much

And I'm sorry I'm not enough

And I'm always so sorry

I just really want to talk to you again

One tear is all I have in me, today

And a face contorted with pain

Looks like I'll remain robotic

As long as I don't look at the man in the mirror

Sorry, I'm not eating enough

And the number on the scale keeps dropping

And I had a dream I was so scrawny

But hey, I had a six-pack, still

Today, I was so hungry it hurt

So I ate and now I'm full

But the number will probably still drop tomorrow

The scabs on my hands are almost healed

After I rubbed them raw on that metal fence

I've been picking at them, still

They bleed, a little longer

And you haven't touched the playlist recently

And are you erasing me?

Are you going to tell me to have a happy birthday?

Are you going to say anything?

We were supposed to go see a movie

And I just don't know how to check in on you

I hope you're well

I hope you're doing well

Because I'm trying to come to terms with the fact

That I will be afraid forever

And that I will never have another star in orbit

And I will have to get by on this ugly love

And that life is just

Losing

And that you won't be coming back

You made me feel like the

Best version of me

Isn't that what I was supposed to be?

To look for?

Isn't that why you choose to love someone?

That they bring out the best in you?

That they compliment and complete you?

Two halves torn and I'm back to

My old self, again

I miss you, Bug

I miss you, Love

I miss you, Queen

I miss you, Electricity

I miss you, Starlight

I miss you, Moon

I miss you, One Whose Beauty Transcends The Universe

I miss you, Lovebug

I miss you,

Ghost

Despite all these names

I could never call you, Mine

Come back again, sometime

I hope he brings out the best in you.

I hope you're alright.

I really hope you're doing just fine.

[red-the-dragon-writes]

[id: A man with long hair and a goatee is falling backwards, with red liquid spilling from his open mouth and clawed hand. There are splashes of blood falling along with him. At the bottom of the page, there is a dark, rough area with the words "Written in Blood" emblazoned in vivid red atop it. end id]

Wip Intro: Written in Blood

What do you do when you find out that your only friend is going to be executed? For Rex ket'Aothea, the answer is 'impulsively kill the king of your country, and then panic and decide that you have to be the king now.' Never mind that he's never even been in charge of something without someone handing instructions down before. This cannot possibly go badly.

Genre: political something or other, told from the perspective of a man who cannot politick his way out of a paper bag; second world high fantasy action adventure except without any adventure; idk you guys lmao. a bunch of traumatized gay idiots take over a country and do it very badly. that's the story. take it or leave it

Narration: Third person limited, from the point of view of the protagonist (who, for what it's worth, is about as observant as a brick).

Main Characters: Rex ket'Aothea is a young, deeply traumatized asshole who's gotten way too used to throwing his own weight around with a moral compass that points anywhere but north. Felyx is, unfortunately for both of them, his closest friend. Merox is a no-nonsense badass butch who is the only person in the entire ensemble cast with a brain. All three of them wound up working in the special torture division of a corrupt king ages before the story starts, along with most of their friends. Not one of these people is equipped to take over a country, but certainly not the one who sets himself up as dictator.

Written in Blood updates regularly on Archive of Our Own here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31388312/chapters/77622899 and currently clocks in at 29200 words alone, 35597 with extra scenes and explanations :D

(I introduce myself under the cut.)

Hi, my name is Red! I'm the person behind this blog. I'm pretty new to Writeblr (this is actually a revamped whump blog I abandoned in like, 2018 lol) and am pretty jazzed to uh... get attention on my wip lol. That's largely why I'm doing this, but I'm also super down to hear about other people's stories and characters! I always want more things to read. :D

I'm actually not sure what to put here. Uh, my pronouns are he/him, they/them, ne/nem and fuck/fucker (if you use the neopronouns you automatically get in my good graces. especially fuck/fucker, they're so much fun.) I'm in my early twenties, and I've been writing for at least thirteen years, and posting work online for five of those. I like fantasy-- low fantasy lives in a special place in my heart, but I also, obviously, like high fantasy, or I wouldn't be writing it lmao. I also like science fiction! and fan fiction! (On my A03 almost exactly half of my works are Transformers fanfictions!) I'm Trans of Gender and Bi of Sexual and Aro of Mantic and so is every character I've ever written.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 1! Reader's job has no chill and Wanda means well (Tony does too), but, as we know, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Reader discovers the source of some peculiar things and can't help but be overcome with curiosity. F-bombs galore!

Fun fact: this story's main soundtrack is Claire de Lune, for some reason. Usually I can't stand classical music.

I didn't anticipate my first day at the bodega to be remarkful in any way but I was quickly proven wrong. My expectations were low: few customers, some of them flat-earthers of the garden variety, perhaps one or two of those 'witches' from social media blogging platforms and an overzealous Satanist or two, since I was pretty sure I saw an Ouija board and a silver pentagram hanging in Odette's office on the day of the interview.

Boy was I wrong.

We averaged a customer every fifteen minutes with each person requesting increasingly strange items: healing quartz and sage were on the closer end of normal; I felt like I had teleported to Hogwarts and was now attending Professor Snape's Advanced Potions class, having to race between the high shelves and memorize the exact location of each and every ingredient. In the end, I sacrificed a few dollars and bought one of the beautiful, leather-bound notebooks off Odette to write down the shelf and position number for the most commonly requested items and planned to begin memorizing them at home.

There's a little bit of Ravenclaw in all of us, I supposed. My curiosity only extended further: sometimes, a haggard looking person would come up and declare they had an appointment with Odette and was quickly whisked away by my boss to her office, coming out looking slightly less haggard in about half an hour or so.

I adapted to the routine fairly quickly, choosing to make my personal peace with the strange customers and Odette's mysterious meetings: after all, I got the job because I needed money - who was I to judge her for doing Tarot readings and spiritual séances for an extra dollar?

The bodega's atmosphere did grow on me rather quickly, as I had thought it would. It was warm and homely even on the rainiest afternoons, there was an unlimited supply of herbal tea, free of charge, and I grew to appreciate it just like I learned to find the positives in my job at the café. That remained a constant, mildly interesting affair too - my regulars, especially the superheroes, had started coming in during the morning hours and we were able to resume our chit-chats without a hitch.

Wanda still fished for my most recent, memorable reading and Dr. Banner left his incomprehensible scribbles on every napkin within an arm's reach for me to return to him on his next visit. The fully grown man with multiple PhDs didn't fail to blush like a schoolgirl every single time it happened, causing Mr. Stark to double on his own salacious jokes, should the engineer have had come with. They often came together, blabbering things I couldn't even fathom understanding even with the help of Google.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Wanda sounded surprisingly chipper for it was freaking seven in the morning.

I blanched, banging my arm against the display door painfully with a softly muttered, "Fuck!".

The witch frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I muttered, hoping my face wasn't portraying the mixture of confusion and fear that I felt. "Something weird happened at my other job yesterday, I'm still processing," I replied honestly, looking to the side.

In fairness, I didn't know what to think. The situation wasn't something that should have shocked me, with aliens and magic people an abundance in NYC, but seeing it with my own two eyes had been jarring.

A limping, paranoid young man had arrived for an appointment with Odette shortly before closing time; I had escorted him to her office without as much as a blink, only noticing he was dripping oddly colored blood when the door behind him had closed. I cleaned it up, dead set on confronting Odette about the obviously injured person - the blood, it was more of an attempt to clean it, since it merely stuck to the rag, refusing to wash off it with water or any of the organic cleaning solutions kept under the sink.

I had to leave the rag in a paper bag, acutely aware of the fact it could not have belonged to a normal person. My best guess was that a man was a mutant - NYC had plenty of them living behind a blue wall. Odette's office wasn't soundproof: I heard a pained yelp and then a vocalisation of relief as whatever was causing the man to bleed had been removed. In a few minutes while I was closing the cash register, he came out looking almost brand new - and as I paid him a more careful look, he was missing his scleras, leaving his eyes to look slightly terrifying.

And then he winked at me, a surprisingly human, boyish gesture - the smile that crawled up my face was purely automatic. I was sure it looked frozen. He disappeared without a word as Odette herself emerged from the backrooms, a tired sheen to her brow.

"Did you manage to clean up?" She asked, eyebrows raised at the lack of stains on the hardwood floors.

"It stuck to the rag," I replied, eyeing her warily. "The rag is in the unmarked bag next to the sink. I didn't know what else to do with it."

"Sometimes it does that," her sigh was very telling. This was to be expected to become a regular occurrence. She motioned for the notebook I got to keep track of everything in the store, rattling off a recipe for a cleaner and solvent combo, made purely from the items she had inside the store, giving me stern instructions to add the ingredients in the exact order I was told. I sighed but added the footnote. Odette was a far cry from the greasy git from Hogwarts so she deserved the benefit of the doubt at least.

I didn't dare to ask any more questions about the strange man; not that day, not after I had suprised Wanda with a quick recap of my story. It's not like I had anything against mutants - as long as they were peaceful and didn't harm humans with their abilities, I was content to co-habit, share my space and even be friends with them. A very nice old lady who came by three times a week had gills peeking out of the top of her turtleneck and she was just the most polite, sweetest thing.

Wanda's curiosity was understandable and not suspicious in any way: I was under the impression she was a mutant, too, along with her twin brother - so the feeling of dread that blossomed within me as soon as the two suited figures entered the small store I attributed to the larger size of the man and vulture eyes of the woman. They both appeared extremely out of place with their black two-pieces and badly hidden pistol holsters, topped off with badges I couldn't take a good look at without losing my customer service facade.

I decided to play it dumb, self-conscious of the thudding of my heart in my ribcage. My body screamed 'danger' at me. "Hello, how can I help you?"

The woman cast an observant look over me, my plain clothes, lingering on my star-patterned scarf and matching hair band. "Are you the owner of this store?"

"No," I frowned, not liking where this was going. "Do you have an appointment with Odette?"

"We'd like to see her," the man pointedly moved his arm, exposing the gun and the badge.

I dropped the nice act, staring him down in earnest. I never liked self-righteous, pushy government officials; even less so, when they didn't follow protocol and started the conversation with demands instead of proper introductions. As I shot a quick text to Odette, noting that there were 'strange people in uniform' looking for her, my suspicions were only confirmed when the woman looked around the store with eyes that knew what they were looking for. Those two definitely weren't cops or even feds, they were straight up shady.

Odette all but flew to the bodega, the imposing, suffocating aura I'd seen only once on full display. It was hard to breathe standing so close to her; with muted satisfaction, I noticed both agents squirm, their fingers twitching, as they took in shuddering inhales through their, undoubtedly, lying mouths.

The whole spectacle was over quickly. I had managed to serve and quickly usher out Ike, one of the Satanists (yes, we did, in fact, have a few of those as regulars) with his paper bag full of powdered goat horn and a fresh cat skull under his armpit before the curtains parted and the two agents left without saying a word. I thought their eyes looked - wrong, like glass marbles, dull, lifeless and unseeing.

Odette dismissed my worries with a frivolously waved hand: "They won't be bothering us anytime soon," closing the door to her office - it reeked of strong incense and horseradish, for some reason. Like she'd been making some hell salad in front of the two nosy officials.

I took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. The weirdness should've bothered me more, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to decide whether I wanted to know what that interaction was actually about or live in blissful ignorance, where my boss might be some sort of a mutant or an actual witch that helps other mutants.

The longer I thought about it, the louder anti-mutant propaganda articles screamed at me: children being killed or abandoned because one day, they woke up and could fly or move things with their mind; every potential situation could end up like Carrie or Brightburn - two movies so blatantly obvious in their point to instill fear against children that could grow to work alongside Earth's Mightiest Defenders.

Needless to say, my conscious calmed down pretty quickly. I had felt the hairs on my nape stand up as soon as the agents entered the room and in my experience, a reaction like that was never good. I had been taught to trust my gut.

Odette had cancelled her visits for the day, holing up in her office as the whole store rapidly filled up with the stench of horseradish, old blood and sage. The occasional noise came from the office, interrupted by mumbling, and I was quickly told to just turn up the old, vintage radio if it bothered me.

I was too busy taking in the contents of her office - the table that previously stood in the far end of it, stood in the middle, folded out into the shape of a circle. Something was drawn on it, something the color of dried blood, and there were light candles, white and blue, littered on almost every possible surface. The air was clouded with incense smoke, so thick, it made my eyes water.

Odette's grin was sardonic as she met my eyes, wide and shocked, that had previously landed on what looked like a pot- or a cauldron, emanating the strongest bitter stench that wafted even through the lead curtain of incense. No wonder the whole store reeked.

Before she gently shut the door in my face, I caught the centerfold of the whole show - an extremely large, tattered, leatherbound tome with yellowed pages and a heavy metal padlock laying next to it. Overcome by stupor, I didn't manage to make out the intricate silver letters on its cover.

Needless to say, walking home that day was an adventure. In part, I was cautious that the agents would find me, follow me home, interrogate me - I've never been arrested even by usual cops and it was unlikely that shady government agencies were delicate in their approach. A larger part of my brain was wondering about the implications of what I had seen, I'd nearly chewed off my fingernails remembering the vacant, lost face expressions on the agents' faces.

As soon as I got home, I set to do some serious googling. And find information, I did. Plethora of minor details - candle colors, herbs used, deeply individual incantations and mythical deities that chose to work with a particular witch. It was nothing short of a whole science; I'd go as far as to say it was a complete lifestyle. The use of magick bled into every aspect of daily life, from sleep to food to communication with others.

Part of me felt incredulity at the implication of sacrificing so much to get results that might be the opposite of the ones desired. A larger, braver part of me - the very same that used to push me to explore abandoned buildings with my friends and drink booze given by a stranger - admired the work and the dedication my boss and her kind put into their work.

Having received my first paycheck and successfully having made it through rent day without having to make excuses, my conscious allowed me to treat myself to a few items - I decided to give into my curiosity and placed an order for a few books on modern witchcraft, happily waiting for the package to arrive next afternoon. I went to sleep with my head full and a new world at my feet to explore.

The books were late - or more like, never showed. The refund couldn't come soon enough. My curiosity began to reach unbearable levels the longer I worked the front desk at Odette's. These days I didn't need much assistance anymore, ready to help any new or returning customer with the help of my notebook. Time after time, I noticed a certain working order, a pattern to things if you may - and was able to recommend a few things here and there. In short, I stepped over my initial apprehension and dove into the world of natural remedies and energetic manipulation headfirst.

It made all the sense that Odette would start to take absence from the bodega as my training progressed. On the days she had fewer or no appointments, she would don her favourite scarf and trot out the front door, large purse in tow, to run errands or restock on the rare, pricy items that couldn't get delivered directly to the shop. I'd grown accustomed to locking up on my own; the spare key to the entrance door was my pride and joy, the dull silver a warm comfort hanging on a chain around my neck. Its antique design made a fairly pretty necklace.

The customer coming to pick up a special order hardly disrupted my time. I had Janis Joplin blaring from the old radio, my skirt swayed to the rhythm of the song together with me. The elevated mood while working in the shop was something I appreciated fully - with a kind smile, I departed for the backrooms to search for the package with the customer's name, not finding it anywhere near the proper place. A call later, I was opening Odette's office and extracting the paper-wrapped shoebox from the fridge, passing it into the customer's arms with utmost care: 'FRAGILE. KEEP REFRIGERATED AT ALL TIMES.' read on it in Odette's sharp cursive.

The bell above the door rang as the woman departed but I was already inching behind the curtain, overcome by sudden inquisitiveness.

The book. It stood right in the middle of Odette's desk, shut, but missing its padlock, beckoning with the thick gothic letters spelling out 'PRACTICAL ALCHEMY'. I noticed it as soon as I stepped into the office, confused and puzzled by my own unbearable desire to approach it immediately. I knew something was amiss, yet, my legs had a mind of their own and my hands firmly placed themselves upon the heavy cover of the book, seemingly without the input from my brain.

"What the hell..." I muttered to myself, finding the books contents to be - for the lack of a better word - peculiar. "Protect a babe born on all Hallows Eve..." I numbly mouthed the first words that my eyes registered. The pages made a soft noise as my shaking fingers turned them, one after the other. "Bestow healing upon a barren womb... Punish a thief..." There were - spells, and potions, and so many plants I've never even heard about before.

The pages turned and handwritings changed - at the start, words were written out precisely, the cursive neat and sharp, obviously written by an ink pen. Some things were scribbles, pencil or charcoal, so barely intelligible I had to guess about a third of the words written. Towards the end of the book pages made with a typewriter appeared - blocky letters and numbers, language modern, ash and cigarette smell coming from the paper.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer my hands touched the pages, the stronger the tingling sensation became - I failed to notice it at first, attributing it to the exhilaration of finding something so strange yet so precious, but as I was finishing a page that contained a fairly short spell for protection of a witches' home, the discomfort of my palms rose into a mild stinging pain.

"Fuck," I yelped, casting a look at my fingers. They were hot, angry, as if I had briefly touched boiling oil - and the skin on my fingertips began to blister, little white pustules forming where I had gingerly held the pages of the book in place. "What the fuck?" Was my reasonable question to nobody in particular.

The books contents were, no doubt, interesting but I was more concerned with the state of my hands - had I ignored the pain for five more minutes, I might have had to go to the hospital to treat what was beginning to look like a second-degree burn. I slammed it shut none-too-gently, placing it exactly as I found it and winced when barely a second of touching it brought on more excruciating pain.

The healing peppermint oil salve I knew people bought for mild burns only soothed the initial sting, so I had to suffer until I clocked out, stopping by a drugstore on my way home to purchase some much-needed burn cream. And while it didn't make it worse, I knew that my next day at work was going to be Hell.

Most thankful, however, I was to my voice-to-text option on my cell. Not only it allowed me to communicate with my friends without hurting my abused skin even more, but it also dutifully saved the short, simple spell that was supposed to protect my house. There was no harm in trying it, I supposed, after seeing what I didn't doubt was the book's own protection wreak havoc on my snoopy little hands.

The tag list is open until the story is finished.

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[laughing-with-god]

Hi!!! I've just started following you (yandere is my guilty pleasure, so thank god I found your blog) so I don't really know if you take requests or not (I think not), but would you consider, anytime in the future, doing a yandere fanboys but with exo? I loved the BTS one and I'm curious to see how an exo one would turn out ❤️❤️❤️

BITCH I WAS AN EXO-L BEFORE ANYTHING. (Tbh I consider myself more of one than an army but that’s controversial so👀🤫)

Suho- Supportive stan. Buys anything and everything concerning you and your group. The type of guy to buy multiple copies of the same merch or album bc he just wants to support his baby. Has went to multiple fanmeets and concerts, you have seen him many times. Isn’t a big fan of social media but just got an account to follow you. His friends know that whenever they hang out with him, they’re gonna have to catch an earful about the latest thing you did. Tries imitating little catch phrases or stunts you’ve done on variety shows or V-live. Doesn’t participate in fan wars bc he’s classy but if someone said anything negative about you, he would def just make an disgusted face and leave their presence. KING of sending gifts, has handed you a few small ones during fanmeets.

Lay- Very sheepish about his love for you. Buys all the merch and music but doesn’t let people know how big of a fan he is. Practices your choreo and songs, even has his own manlier versions for your performances. You’re the inspiration for any love songs he writes/composes from that point on. He tries to act like how he thinks you would want in a man. If he thinks you like the gentle type, then he’ll practice acting more coy and content. If he thinks you like a manly man, he’ll hit the gym and act more bold. You’re his ideal type of woman. for the few times he did try to date after discovering you, he couldn’t stand women who didn’t resemble you in any way. His wardrobe will change to alter himself into your style. He doesn’t really notice it, the progression happens naturally/subconsciously. His dream is to one day perform with you.

Chen- Everyone within a five mile radius will now how obsessed this guy is with you. Hums your songs everyday while doing mundane chores. Excitedly squeals whenever you update any social media, not caring where the fuck he is. Regularly posts covers of your songs. You’re his phone background, iPad, Apple Watch, laptop EVERYTHING. Dances excitedly whenever he hears your music. Denies being a solo stan, but like he ain’t fooling anything bc he mainly only belts out YOUR lyrics and only half-assedly hums along to the other members’ lines. Not above getting nasty if someone attacks your reputation. Very protective as well, HATES dating rumors with a passion. Really wants to collaborate with you.

Chanyeol- Thinks he is being slick about his love for you but tbh he is not. Religiously streams your music, wears merch and will refuse to leave the house if you were gonna make an appearance on tv bc HE CANNOT MISS IT DAMMIT. Covers your songs, all acoustic. Comments on all your social media pics about how gorgeous you are. The type of guy to need at least a day of no one talking to him after you made a comeback bc he is just so flabbergasted. You will be his background and everything for any electronic he owns. The type to get livid if you looked like you were getting thinner or worn out by schedules. He doesn’t hate girl groups but he doesn’t like them either bc they are your competition. (Still hasn’t forgiven Twice for stealing that award from you). Boy groups annoy him though, will def be naive enough to believe all dating scandals concerning you. He now hates all of Bts, Wanna One, Got7 and half of NCT bc why were they looking at you with heart eyes at that award show?!

Baekhyun- Could shout his devotion to you from the mountain tops. Sings your songs more than his own. Bold asl, def the type to slip up while on Tv and admit he fucking adores you. (Suho will have his ass on a platter for that but like 🤷🏻‍♀️). Headass enough to copy your outfits, tells himself that he’s just completing the other half of the ‘couple aesthetic’. Would drop anything and everything to watch your insta live or check your lastest social media post. Chanyeol bought him a backstage ticket for one of your shows and baekhyun almost promised to give Yeol his first born he was so touched. Thinks he is being subliminal by adding little hints for his love for you on his insta captions but everyone knows what’s up. Sends letters and gifts your way, squeals so loud if you respond in any way. Already has your future kids names picked out. He tired to figure out what type of perfume you wore so he could spray it on his clothes to feel closer to you. Would die before he admits it to anyone.

D.O- Silent stan. His obsession with you is so well hidden. None of the members would even know about it until someone says something slightly offputting about you and Kyungsoo puts them in their place. Adoringly calls you his ‘wifey’ in his mind. Watches variety shows, movies or interviews over and over again. Almost every night. You know those ASMR videos with idols? He listens to yours to fall asleep. Your voice is just so soothing to him. Practices making your favorite meals. Trains himself to remember information about you. He hates thinking that there could be another fan out there who knows more about you then he does. Fav food, pet peeves, height, weight, blood type, school name, birthday ect. HE KNOWS IT ALL. sings your songs to himself often but doesn’t dare post covers. He personally finds covers to be really offensive. The only person who should be singing your songs is you. No other voice could top your delightful tone. Reads tips on how to be a good husband in preparation for you.

Xiumin- uwu stan. Tries to recreate your pictures for his own social media. Quiet but supportive of you, won’t openly blast your music when others are near but when he’s by himself? Hell yeah, sign him tf up. Wants to be your ideal man, starts dressing differently for you. Covers your songs and likes singing along with you on the radio bc he adores the sound of your voices together. Gets hella hurt with dating rumors, don’t mention it around him bc he’ll just get really silent and gloomy. Lowkey he can be pretty petty with other boys who lingered too long at you at events or award shows. Collects polloroid pictures of you, goes over them every night. Has dipped into fanfic about you once or twice bc it just fills this hole inside him. An insufferable urge to be with you. Gets a new cat and names it after you. (Unless ofc you hate cats and prefer dogs bc Xiumin would abandon his love of cats for you)

Kai- He wasn’t sure how it started....okay that’s a lie. Jongin first just thought you were a really fashionable and chic idol. He kept an eye out for you just bc you were very different, but then it grew into an infatuation. He stopped watching you simply for fashion reasons and started watching you bc he was just so enchanted by you. You could advertise a product and he’d the type to go buy it just bc it’s you advertising it. It could literally be something so stupid, like a dish sponge but Jongin would still quietly go out and buy 15 bc like your face is on it....he hates dating rumors concerning him. Like when fans pair him up with Jennie or Krystal, he gets pressed bc like obvi it’s YOU he should be with not them. Very terrified of the idea you could come across his dating rumors and think he’s not loyal to you.

Sehun- Proud, certified Y/n trash. Would wear your merch everyday if he could. His most played songs are all from you. If you ever were on a movie, drama or tv show then they would immediately be his favorite, binge watches it multiple times. Changes his style to fit your aesthetic. Would burn his entire wardrobe if it didn’t suit your tastes. Watches your social media very closely. It’s pretty obvious to other people that he likes you bc you’re literally the only person he follows on insta. Copies your posts for his own account. (I.e; the Miranda Kerr incident👀) He monitors what other people say about you, once got into a heated debate with a nitizen in an effort to defend your honor. Wants to start his own fan café for you. Can and will send expensive gifts your way. The type of guy to look up your guys’ astrological signs and read the compatibility reports. Helps him feel closer to you. If you ever came on screen while his dog was nearby, he point and say “Look vivi, it’s mommy!”

[ld200]

I love this blog of yours and I'm really happy there's people out there who are still into DBH! I've been browsing thru fanfics lately and I'm looking forward to reading your fic 'eternal winter' (I'm waiting until it's complete incase you don't end up finishing it) but I'm curious as to what your favourite scene/s in the game are. I have multiple but I'd probably say (one of my 'high on the list' faves) would be after Connor saves Hank and awnsers his questions correctly in CL tower. Thanks!

Oh hey thanks! :D Definitely still into DBH. Fixations tend to hold onto me for at least a couple years lol

Hah, I’m absolutely finishing Eternal Winter (on ao3 anyway; kinda abandoned ffn altogether) but I know I’m not the first one to say that about a story, and I won’t be the last, lmao. Honestly, it’s a huge fic so waiting until it’s done makes sense anyway bc it’s probably easy to forget about the details otherwise

Ooooh favorite scenes HMMMMM this might get long, bear with me

Well, let me at least mention Connor’s end-of-game scenes, for starters. Walking toward Hart Plaza with an army of androids behind him is so damn epic. Doesn’t mean anything on its own, but with everything Connor’s learned and done to get this far, it’s just so fucking satisfying

And then standing up there while Markus speaks, the blizzard in the garden & wondering What Would Have Happened post-game in either scenario (doesn’t escape & Amanda takes over = is he a machine again? reaches the stone & escapes = will it keep happening? is he truly free? etc. this was a good half of why I wanted to write that story to begin with)

BUT I think my actual favorite scenes have to be any and all of those developmental moments that really capture Connor’s character

Connor saving Hank on the roof. The stunned look he turns on Hank when Hank says “You’d have caught him if it wasn’t for me,” as if he’s never considered that anyone other than him can take the blame for something going wrong

On the flipside, the scene you get if you fail that sequence entirely and run out of time... I don’t remember the dialogue EXACTLY but god I loved it when I first discovered it. Something to the effect of:“That shouldn’t have happened. I wasn’t programmed to fail.”“Yeah, well, you fucked up, Connor. Welcome to the club.”I like that Hank doesn’t say it with anger, maybe a little annoyance, but overall it seems like he just thinks it’s ridiculous that Connor’s so upset with himself. Connor’s SO AFRAID OF FAILURE, like. It just permeates the whole game, and I really like that in this version of the scene Hank says something that’s just so humanizing and validating about it

The one scene in the zen garden when it’s pretty late in the game and Connor tries to ask Amanda SO MANY GOOD QUESTIONS that I had been wondering as the player as well, about who made the zen garden, what Cyberlife really wants, Elijah Kamski, whether Connor’s a unique model. etc. Depending on your choices in the story, I thiiiink (but am not sure) that it’s the same scene where he slowly admits to Amanda that he thinks he may be compromised, his LED going from blue to yellow to red as he says it, and then Amanda basically tells him “You’ve been in some difficult situations. It’s okay that you’re troubled. That doesn’t make you a deviant.” (again that’s probably not the exact line) I really like the visible conflict Connor has about coming to terms with it, and the way Amanda seems like she’s in denial of it just like he is

Absolutely fucking everything about the Meet Kamski chapter. I love some of his dialogue choices with Kamski too, he can really bite back. (Come to think of it I like any scene where you can choose options that have Connor in conflict with someone, whether it’s Kamski, Amanda, Gavin, or even Hank.) I prefer the version where he doesn’t shoot Chloe - his worry Hank is going to be upset with him for failing (there’s that again), the defensiveness about why he couldn’t shoot her, Hank’s lil smile and assurance that Connor did the right thing

THAT SAID there is one thing I also really like about the scene after he shoots Chloe: when Hank is all pissed off and having a Hank moment (rightfully so, this time, I mean Connor just killed someone, but anyway) and he moves in like he’s gonna grab Connor or shove him or something, and Connor pushes him back before he can. Again, Hank’s right to be pissed, BUT considering Connor gets literally and figuratively pushed around by almost everyone he encounters in the game (up to and including Hank), it’s nice to see that even a mission-focused Connor is deviant in his own way and will eventually push back. 

The Hug (tm)

“Statistically speaking, there is always a chance for unlikely events to take place” + “Don’t worry. I always accomplish my mission” + the whole marching downtown with an army of androids thing = CONNOR POST-DEVIANCY EXUDES SO MUCH CONFIDENCE and I live for it. You asked about scenes and this isn’t a scene, just a combination of things I like, but now u got me talking about Connor and I can’t stop ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I like the scene you mentioned as well! It’s the culmination of everything Hank sees in Connor, everything he hoped Connor was and could be. And I like it just as much for Hank’s sake as I do for Connor’s - it’s good to see him come to terms with his own shit about androids. And “maybe you’ll be the ones to make the world a better place” is just such a hopeful, charitable thing for him to say given the darker edges of his personality and I’m glad that he maybe sees things a little brighter than they were before. I don’t talk about Hank nearly enough but I really do love him as a character as well and I believe he’s an idealist at heart, even if it’s buried under a lot of grief and outward cynicism

I knew this would get long lol, thanks for asking, there’s so much fan content out there that I haven’t actually thought about the specifics of the game in a while and it’s nice to reconnect with it a bit

[berrymeter]

idk why ppl who don't Know me seem convinced i'm like a big blog or something... no i just have popular mutuals. i don't have nearly as many followers and i'm pretty sure at least half of those are bots or abandoned accounts