#They need to rest after all the murder and arson they committed<3

[microvibing]

eepy:)

[teawaffles]

The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 4

Note: Some language. Also, this is a long chapter!

Aside: The chapter numbering has been altered slightly — the previous chapter is now just Chapter 3, rather than Chapter 3 Part 1.

Lestrade seemed mortified that they hadn’t even managed to preserve the scene of the crime, for his shoulders quietly slumped.

“Have you managed to deduce anything so far?” he asked Sherlock.

The detective spoke languidly.

“First off, about the man in the room…… Let’s assume he was not only dead, but also murdered. Then if we take the straightforward explanation that it’d been blood on his back, he would’ve most likely been killed using a physical weapon; I’m thinking it could be either a stab or shot wound. As for potential suspects…… An obvious one would be the other fugitive. For motive, they could’ve had a simple falling-out, or maybe he wanted to silence his accomplice for fear of his own arrest.”

The inspector brooded over his analysis.

“A stab or shot wound, hmm. If it’s the former, the attacker would’ve needed to break into the room.”

“Yep, so the most promising candidate right now’s that ‘In the middle of the chaos from the fire, the man had been sniped through the window’.”

“If that’s the case, then does it mean the fire had been an act of arson?”

“It’s highly likely. Do we have a detailed description of the room’s furnishings?”

“For that, let’s ask the officer who witnessed the scene himself.”

Lestrade made a strangely grim expression, then looked in the distance, beckoning someone to come over. But when Sherlock saw him, his jaw dropped.

“……So it’s you.”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

It was Assistant Inspector Gregson. Sherlock was lost for words; before him, Gregson scowled and crossed his arms. He had been the officer who’d stood watch outside the room when the incident occurred, and the sole witness of the murder scene.

Now that he knew that, Sherlock finally understood why the man had been acting strange earlier.

“Ohh, I see. It’s no wonder you didn’t want to face us — the criminal you arrested had been killed before your very eyes.”

Sherlock smirked, and Gregson replied in frustration.

“I-I’m keenly aware of my responsibility in this. But at any rate, as a police officer, I have no reason to feel indebted to you.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. But from what you said, that means you were the one who’d been in charge of the scene back then. Was there some reason why you chose to remain behind and stand watch?”

Gregson seemed to find it difficult to say aloud.

“……During the interrogation, a crowd had formed around the building; in order to calm them down, I’d wanted to mobilise all the officers at the scene with me. But we absolutely needed someone to keep watch over the fugitive, and I thought my personality wouldn’t be suited to placating the residents here, so I remained behind…… Though, now that I think about it, that had been a rather short-sighted judgement.”

Gregson narrowed his eyes, seemingly vexed at his own mistake, but Lestrade cut in.

“No, I think that was quite a logical decision. Moreover, to begin with, all of you were sent to such a difficult scene on my orders. So part of the blame rests with me as well.”

“N-No, you’re not at fault here, Inspector; it was all due to my carelessness.”

As Lestrade and his subordinate argued back and forth, Sherlock raised a hand to stop them.

“Sorry, but let’s talk about who’s to blame later. For now, our priority’s to share information, isn’t it?”

Annoyed at being spoken to like that by the detective he so detested, Gregson turned to face Lestrade.

“……Well then, what would you like to know, Inspector?”

“The furnishings in the room, please.”

Gregson’s gaze trailed upward as he recalled what he saw back then.

“About the interior, there wasn’t anything particularly unusual. The room was rectangular, with a small bed, a table and two chairs. As for entry points, there was a window on its north side, and the needlessly sturdy door opposite it. There wasn’t even a mirror nor a bathroom.”

Hearing that, Sherlock’s expression turned serious.

“So it was really just a place to sleep. Then, about the man who collapsed while handcuffed to the chair or something — what part of the room was he in?”

Gregson glared hatefully at him, and responded in a thorny tone.

“When I looked through the keyhole, he was on the floor right before my eyes. It was around one step away from the door. And his back — or more precisely, the area stretching from his back to somewhere around his waist — was stained the colour of blood.”

At this point, Sherlock asked a question.

“The victim’s hands were each cuffed to the chair’s armrests, right? If he’d still been in that state, I thought the chair would’ve been resting on his back.”

Furrowing his brows, Gregson crossed his arms.

“There was only so much I could see through the keyhole, so I didn’t manage to get a look at his entire body; but the chair was nowhere near his back. This is just my speculation, but I think he might’ve forcefully broken the armrests and escaped his bonds.”

“Was the chair really that shoddy?”

“……He didn’t put up much of a fight when we arrested him, so I got careless and used something close by to restrain him. On second thought, it was remiss of me to do so.”

Hearing Gregson’s reflection, Sherlock contemplated the fugitive’s exact movements.

“So that means he managed to get free of the chair, and move around the room with his hands still cuffed. In that case, wouldn’t he have made some noise? Though, the commotion from the residents back then might have drowned it out.”

“I don’t think so; even if there had been the sound of the chair breaking, I’m sure I would’ve noticed it. The problem is what happened after the fire began. Back then, I was in a panic, and both the inside and outside of the building were in such an uproar that I didn’t have the attention to notice any noises coming from the room.”

Mortified, Gregson lowered his gaze once again, but Sherlock continued in a calm voice.

“So the arrested fugitive didn’t make his move until the fire broke out. Was there anything in the room that could’ve been used as a weapon?”

“Of course, we thoroughly inspected the room before the interrogation began. From the start, that was the room the man himself had stayed in, so we searched it down to the very corners in case he had hidden anything inside. But we didn’t find anything that could’ve been used as a weapon.”

Gregson said so with certainty, but Sherlock was still not convinced.

“Obviously there were things that could’ve been used to kill or wound, now weren’t there? If he’d broken the wooden armrests, the pieces could have been fashioned into a stake. Even if he didn’t do that, he could’ve broken off wood from the floor or the wall, and created a weapon in the same way.”

“……It sounds like you’re saying he could’ve taken advantage of the commotion from the fire to commit suicide. But even if, as you suggested, he tried to kill himself with a sharp object, normally one would try to cut their neck — it’s hard to believe he would’ve stabbed himself with enough force for the weapon to pierce through his back.”

Gregson had made a reasonable argument; but even as he concurred, Sherlock put forward a different perspective.

“However, let’s say he did break off some wood from the floor or wall, and pared it into a sharp point: what if, when he was moving around, he accidentally fell onto it? It’s not clear whether it was deliberate or unintentional, but I’m thinking it was a fatal wound.”

Sherlock was still pursuing the idea that the criminal had died by his own hand. Hearing that, for a moment, Gregson forgot his animosity and pondered. Then, he shook his head in a gentle denial.

“I don’t think that’s the case either. If it were, there would’ve been some sharp object and bloodstains left in the room. But from what I saw through the keyhole, the walls and floor were clean, and there’d been nothing resembling bloodstains. There were some tiny splatters of something like blood around the body, as well as little puddles of the same substance; but in terms of noticeable bloodstains, that was all I saw.”

“——Only that? If he’d bled out enough for his back to be dyed red, there should’ve been an equivalent amount of blood splattered all around him.”

Sherlock tilted his head. Gregson also thought it strange, and knitted his brows.

“It gets stranger and stranger the more I think about it. It doesn’t seem to be the case that the weapon staunched the wound when he was stabbed…… Maybe he’s anaemic?”

“…………”

It wasn’t clear whether Gregson had been joking, or if that had been unintentional. With a thoughtful look, Sherlock kept his mouth shut.

Then Lestrade, who’d been listening attentively thus far, offered his own theory.

“From what I’ve heard, it seems this is neither a suicide nor an accident. Then what if he was just pretending to be dead? Perhaps the other fugitive had started the fire at some prearranged time. Then the man who’d been caught pretended to be dead, and waited for the officer outside to leave before escaping. Maybe he purposely collapsed in front of the door, in order to have Gregson witness it. As for the blood, he could’ve used some red paint to fake it.”

But Sherlock disputed that view.

“It’s not a bad theory, but then the question remains as to how he managed to splatter the paint in that way. Moreover, he probably wanted to escape the inn; but the other officers had secured the area around the building, right?”

Hearing that, Gregson scowled.

“I don’t like agreeing with you…… But certainly, I didn’t receive any reports that he’d left the room.”

Sherlock looked at the charred ruins of the inn.

“Then he hadn’t managed to escape, so it’s highly likely that he’s been burnt to a crisp in there. Just wondering, were there any secret passages in the room?”

Astonished, Gregson chuckled.

“No way; it’s not like this is a secret base. Besides, we checked the room thoroughly: even if there had been an escape route, we would’ve found it.”

“If we’re talking about escape routes, he could have also broken through the walls or the floor, couldn’t he?”

Gregson pondered over Lestrade’s question for a second, then shook his head gently.

“Certainly, the inn was old, and also not maintained very well: various parts of the walls and floor were decaying, and I even saw some tiny holes where they had rotted through. If we’d taken the time and effort, I think it would’ve been possible to break through them. Still, just like the chair, I’m sure I would’ve caught the sound of the walls or floorboards being stripped off — I was standing right in front of the room. Moreover, if he only started his work after I left, then he would’ve been caught in the blaze before he managed to complete his escape.”

“……I see. The fire seems to have spread pretty fast, and it would’ve been impossible for him to finish the passage right away, now wouldn’t it?” Lestrade agreed.

Then, Sherlock clapped his hands together.

“With that, we’ve eliminated the theory that he faked his death and escaped. We can’t be fully certain until the debris has been searched; but at present, by the process of elimination, there are no longer any obstacles to the theory that this is a locked-room murder, yes?”

Sherlock weaved together the various sources of information as he made that assertion, and Lestrade concurred.

“In that case, just as I’d thought, we’ll need to search for the other fugitive. But a long time has passed since the fire broke out: wouldn’t he have already escaped?”

“About that, Inspector: I have one piece of good news.”

With a proud expression, Gregson continued.

“We know that the other fugitive has burns on his face. Among the guests who evacuated the inn during the fire, there were three men with such injuries.”

“Really? ……But, couldn’t they just be regular people who got caught in the fire?”

Lestrade was doubtful. Immediately, Sherlock responded.

“Not necessarily; no one had entered or left the inn both before and after the fire, so naturally, the arsonist must’ve been inside the building……. Is that what you wanted to say, Mr Assistant Inspector?”

“……Yeah.”

Having had the role of explaining the situation stolen from him, Gregson responded blandly.

An assistant inspector who detested detectives, and the detective himself who enjoyed that antipathy. Hearing their usual exchange, Lestrade broke into a wry smile.

“In that case, we should meet the three and talk to them.”

“Of course; they’ve been gathered at a different location, so…… Hmm?”

Just as Gregson was about to show him the way, he suddenly frowned. Once again, the crowd that had amassed near the scene was starting to make a commotion.

“Oi, you shitty bobbies! There’s soot all over the place, and it’s a pain in the ass!”

“This must be all your doing, oi!”

“Don’t think you can just go home scot-free after all you’ve done here!”

Now that the fire had been put out, it seemed the locals’ anger towards the Yard had gradually been rekindled; all at once, the residents of the slums began to kick up a fuss. As foul-mouthed insults were launched from one group, a torrent of frustration exploded from another in a chain reaction — in a flash, Lestrade and the others were stranded in a storm of fury.

Their enmity had surged out of the blue, and Lestrade was clearly on edge.

“This isn’t good. We’ll have to calm them down and try to explain that we’ve been only pursuing the criminals.”

“That won't work: they were already annoyed when the Yard arrived, and then that fire broke out — it’s more than enough to make them furious.”

Sherlock calmly analysed the situation, but Gregson’s reply was steeped in frustration.

“Then what should we do? At this rate, we’ll have a real fight on our hands.”

Still, Sherlock was unruffled.

“The answer’s clear and simple: get on with it and find the real culprit. Once we reveal the actual cause of the fire, they should calm down. Our job hasn’t changed — it’s just that the time limit has morphed into something we can see.”

“……So we have until their anger reaches a boiling point?”

At once, Lestrade understood what needed to be done. He heaved one big sigh, and put on his game face once again.

“Gregson: show Holmes to the suspects. I’ll work with the others to appease the crowd. While we’re keeping a lid on the situation, I want you two to solve the case together.”

“‘Eh?’”

Both Gregson and Sherlock exclaimed in perfect harmony. Then they looked at one another; The detective lowered his gaze slightly as he thought it through, then let out a thin exhale.

“So it’s come to this.”

“Oi, I could see you giving up after thinking about a lot of things, you know.”

Gregson glared at him in disapproval. Meanwhile, Lestrade placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Alright: I’m counting on you both.”

Leaving just those reassuring words behind, he left gallantly towards the crowd. Eloquently, the inspector had entrusted the entire investigation to them, and Sherlock’s eyes were filled with resignation as he watched the man depart.

“Now this has gotten troublesome,” he mumbled.

“Hmm? Are you talking about the case? Or about the fact that we’re working together?”

“No, no, I’m talking about how this has become a rather odd ‘riddle’.”

Gregson’s ears had been sharp, but Sherlock parried his retort with diplomacy.

——“Hang in there, Sherlock!”

Having been paired up with a troublesome man, in a glum Sherlock’s mind, it felt as though John’s encouraging cheers were ringing out.

Translator’s notes

Mysteries and ‘riddles’

You might have noticed that Sherlock and Lestrade sometimes talk about ‘riddles’. The original text differentiates between 謎 and〝謎〟(notice the quotes) — the word itself means mystery/riddle, but the quoted version is used to refer to the mysteries that are (possibly) linked to the Lord of Crime. For instance, at the end of Forbidden Games (Book 2 Story 1), William also talks about the ‘riddles’ he sets for Sherlock.

I chose to translate the quoted version as ‘riddles’, since I think the word ‘mystery’ implies that the case might not have a solution; in contrast, I feel the word ’riddle’ suggests that the mystery has a solution, since it was intentionally created by William in the first place.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 3/2021) - The Egg Fights Back

Some interesting new discoveries are made about the Crimson, as Karl time travels once more to an older time.

In the present, Puffy attempts to destroy the Crimson and makes a discovery of her own:

The Crimson can defend itself.

---

- Fundy has figured out how to create life! In the form of little clay figures shaped like people, named after his viewers.

- The mini goblins have their own AI and are going to be able to path-find. If they path-find and combine enough, they’ll be able to fight.

- He can also destroy the ones that misbehave with a special stick.

- In the future, the clay figures will be more advanced. Though chat suggests giving the clay figures the ability to commit arson, Fundy decides that probably wouldn’t be the best idea.

- Tubbo opens his mailbox and reads his letter from Tommy.

- Tubbo’s decided that his goal for today is copious amounts of murder, in which he kills anyone he comes across.

---

It’s time for Tales From the SMP: “The Masquerade!”

A group of rich people come together to party...or so they thought.

---

The cast:

Karl plays Karl (just Karl)

Techno plays Sir Billiam III

Ranboo plays the Butler

Fundy plays Oliver Arachtenstein Cumbucket

Bad plays Lord Sebastian

Sapnap plays James

Niki plays Liaria

Quackity plays Drew P. Weiner

---

- Karl walks up to the mansion and meets a piggy fellow named Sir Billiam III, who is hosting a masquerade ball for rich people 

- Billiam introduces Karl to his overworked butler. 

- Karl falls off the stairway and Billiam explains that this is why they have railings

- Billiam shows Karl around to the various bedrooms. The wither painting is Billiam’s favorite.

- Billiam continues to tour Karl around until they reach the ballroom. Billiam calls for the Butler to fetch some wine.

- Oliver arrives to the party. He is living in London and likes to smoke, and wears a giraffe mask.

- Lord Sebastian is next to arrive.

- Next is James, an old friend of Billiam’s. James is divorced, his family gone. James tosses Karl a bottle of wine.

- Liaria arrives

- Drew P. Weiner, who is naked, arrives. He thought it was a nudist party. Billiam is flustered and wants him gone.

- Billiam had another butler named Hubert, but he ran off and now Billiam can’t find him.

- They go to sit at the bar in the ballroom. Billiam tells the butler to feed Drew poison.

- They then head to the dance floor and hang out.

- Drew is sick and the rest of the guests scatter in fear.

- After failing to poison Drew, they go to play Duck Duck Goose on the carpet.

- The lights go dark and they scatter. When the regroup, Drew’s body is found in a secret room

- Billiam has built a few panic rooms of his own. They split to look for more.

- Suddenly, the lights dim again. 

- When they come back, they find Liaria’s body lying on the wine barrels, and Oliver almost drowns in the aquarium.

- They discuss, drink lots of milk, and find a new secret passageway leading from the barrels to the ballroom.

- Billiam and Karl suspect it might be Sebastian, who was inspecting the wine. They start to confront him, but the lights go out once more. Karl runs with Sebastian.

- Billiam is found outside and must be let back in. 

- Karl shows them where Sebastian died. Karl says it must’ve been Oliver, since he saw Oliver right when the lights turned on.

- Karl has the idea to pair up this night. Karl goes with Billiam as the lights turn off.

- The two of them crawl back up from a secret chamber and find Oliver standing right near James’ body. They question Oliver and the Butler, suspecting them both.

- They give the Butler temporary freedom of speech for thirty minutes.

- At the end of discussion, they still suspect Oliver, and assign him the Butler as a buddy. The lights go dark as Karl stays with Billiam again.

- Billiam shows Karl a panic room armed with defensive fireworks for extreme situations.

- The Butler tells them that Oliver had a heart attack. Karl and Billiam start running from him.

- Billiam leads Karl to a new hiding spot. A secret room behind a painting. It’s his favorite panic room...because it has the Egg.

- Billiam tells Karl that in his travels, he found this mansion. A breeding ground for this mysterious Egg. And in his spare time, Billiam feeds poor people to the Egg as nourishment.

The Egg did the killings.

It can persuade people to do what it wants.

- The Butler begins to glow, and chases Karl down. The noises of stabbing can be heard as the screen goes dark.

- Karl wakes up in a white castle. There’s a wither rose and a book, and his clothes are all white.

The book calls it the inbetween. A dimension connected to Karl’s powers, a home away from home.

He doesn’t get to choose when he time travels, or when he returns, but his body doesn’t have to deteriorate.

If he explores the castle of the inbetween, then perhaps he can find the key to not lose himself.

He has to maintain the library, move it to a new land, and get people to join him. But he can’t let anybody else know what the inbetween is.

Until next time.

- Karl wakes up in his library and begins to write. One of the books is missing.

---

- Puffy has heard rumors that Tommy broke a piece of the Egg and nothing bad happened. Can she do the same?

- She breaks off a piece and it damages her, taking away around three hearts of health. She’s shocked and immediately stops trying to destroy it.

- Ranboo logs on and is confused by where he is. The maps are gone.

- Puffy gets a Prime Suit and goes back.

- Puffy tries breaking a different piece and it almost kills her, doing six hearts of damage. Why did this not happen to Tommy? She doesn’t think she can damage the Egg at all, even with TNT. Every time she goes to break it, it hurts more. A third time and she might not survive...

- Ranboo heads off in a direction.

- Puffy wonders if the Egg chose to let Tommy have a piece of the Egg, if the Egg doesn’t want to hurt Tommy. Maybe it wants Tommy to have part of it.

- Puffy needs to get Techno to help before the Eggpire gets Techno on their side. She needs to do something about this immediately.

- Ranboo makes it home and decides to check on the Egg.

- Puffy writes in the Captain’s Log. She shouldn’t have attempted to break the Egg. There’s some sort of difference between her and Tommy.

She and Tommy both have lost friends and made sacrifices. She thought she could fix this all on her own, but she couldn’t. She doesn’t have another attempt. Each try hurts more and more. But why did the Egg choose to spare Tommy?

It’s time for blood for the Blood God. It’s time for Technoblade.

Next stream, Puffy will visit Technoblade.

- Ranboo explores the SMP and is pleased by the grass blocks in L’Targay.

- As Puffy finishes writing, Ranboo hops down into the spider spawner. He makes his way to the secret room.

- Puffy goes to see Foolish’s builds and then goes to get quartz.

- Ranboo sees the Egg, waiting for it to say something. It doesn’t, so he graffitis it instead.

- Ranboo heads back home.

- He thinks people are probably going to create countries again. It’s already happened with Snowchester. So Ranboo doesn’t want to be involved.

- Puffy works on building projects and Ranboo continues to get rich.

---

Upcoming Events:

- Tommy’s next visit with Dream

- Bad wants to visit Dream again in the future

- Tubbo’s possible visit with Dream

- Quackity’s possible visit with Dream

- Sapnap’s visit with Dream

- Puffy’s visit with Dream

- Ponk’s visit with Dream

- Punz’s visit with Dream

- Jack Manifold’s visit with Dream

- The Eggpire possibly speaking with Technoblade

- Puffy meeting with Technoblade

[moral-turpitudes]

Unfinished Business: Part 1

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Slight mentions of past Abuse, Drugs.

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

+ random character/group I made up (Romboldi & The Black Hats)

Word Count: 3,084 omfg I really did the most but I just kinda ran with it.

Summary: Y/N’s current occupation requires her to encounter Thomas Shelby, a man she thought was in her past for good, but as fate would have it, she has to face him once again, because no one can forget a Shelby. 

Requested by: @msbzowy​

Summary of request: “...Thomas lost any contact with the reader and one time while on a business deal he meets her because they’re both involved in the business. They would be fighting a lot but eventually something happens between them and the old feelings come back? You can make it sweet or steamy. No specific deal in mind, just like the general idea! Thank you in advance!” 

A/N: This was requested as a oneshot but I had so many great ideas for it based off this awesome request, so I figured I’d turn it into a 2 or 3 part fic possibly. Let me know if that’s something you’d want to read. :)

Part 1 | Part 2

Y/n walked down the wooden staircase after receiving a phone call, one hand gliding down the rail, and the other holding her suitcase. Her nerves consuming her as she ran down the hall and out the door of her house in New York. The spring air filling her lungs as she quickly walked to the edge of the street, attempting to hail a cab. As she waved her hand out, she smiled as she saw one stop and handed him some cash for his efforts. She wasn’t much for pointless conversation, especially now. She was on her way to one of the biggest meetings of her career, a career she had found herself in only 2 years prior. It was a job most people wouldn’t want, but it paid well, and since she fled Small Heath, she needed the income and the protection. 

Small Heath was a series of bittersweet memories. Seeing her friends at the tailor shops, walking down the dark cobblestone streets, and becoming particularly close to a man named Thomas Shelby. After the war, he got heavily involved in the business, dealing with rival gangs, going after commissioners, committing arson, murder, dealing with bets at the tracks, and breaking hearts most of all. In the matter of heartbreaks, y/n was his first true victim. 

As the cab rolled down the city streets, she glanced out the window, remembering all that she left behind. 

Tensions in the blinders were running high at the time of her departure from the company, back when they had a business meeting with a rival group, the Black Hats from New York. The blinders wanted to transport weapons and ammo for a cheaper price because of recent financial troubles, but they weren’t having it and the Black Hats declined, but not without blowing up one of Tommy’s supply areas. This smuggling shit was risky business to say the least, as these were being smuggled along with drugs.....snow to be exact. The little blue bottles were like gold, taking away the pain of the day while giving you the energy to go on to the next, sucking you in like a rip-tide at sea until you were consumed by the need for more. She had been all too familiarized with it because Tommy struck a deal with a huge supply of it before she left. He didn’t use it often, but Arthur was a different story.

It came as a shock to her, as she had been dating Tommy for a year before everything came crashing down. She was confronted by him at a family meeting saying that she needed to leave, that she had no place there despite her skills. She was a great shot and was helpful on many occasions, but to have her there would pose a risk they weren’t willing to take after they bombed him. So, in true Tommy fashion, he gave her some money, bought her a boarding pass, and sent her on her way to New York to start a new life, his cold eyes staring as he watched her board the ship, emotionless.

This only fueled her need to get back at him, to show him what he had lost, while also proving to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her. She could make a name for herself, even if that meant working for the enemy. 

Pulling up to the brick building, she realized she was now in the belly of the beast, the Black Hats home-turf. She was never seen with the Shelby’s when they visited him in Small Heath, as she was always doing secretary work at Tommy’s place, or perched high on rooftops, aiming at the men below who had came to charlies yard for their meetings. She was always out of sight regarding those men, but now here she was, working for them. She came to them seeking any position, lying about where she came from, supplying them with her forged papers, and even hiding her accent. For as big as this gang was, they weren’t the brightest, as they accepted her in with little apprehension. 

She earned a good living for herself though, quickly becoming their main contract killer. She would travel the country and take out the people on their hit list, and in return they’d provide her with housing and a guard that would check in every so often. 

As she walked in through the heavy double doors, she nodded to one of the guards who let her through into the leader, Mr. Romboldi’s office. He smiled as she came in, fiddling with his golden ring around his finger. 

“Ah there she is...little miss Quick Shot. Nice of you to join us.” He said using her nickname she’d earned among her peers. She could hit a target from various angles and distances without much help and came to like the name she made for herself. Y/n soon nodded and stood at attention like the others, ready for the days orders.

“We have some unfinished business in Small Heath, as I’m sure you’re all aware. It’s been a while since we’ve been overseas, and we’re going to send someone tomorrow to discuss our deal once more as they’ve had recent success in a certain business venture that I’m sure we’d appreciate here.” He said with a serious look in his eyes.

“What venture?” One of the men asked.

“Gin. Buying stocks in it, selling bottles, transporting cross-country, we Americans love our gin and Mr. Shelby has a new supply. He tried to low-ball us last time with the ammo, the guns, and the snow, but I’m going to send him an offer he can’t refuse this time.” He said smirking.

“What offer is that?” Y/n asked, putting on her fake accent.

“You.” He said looking at her. Y/n’s heart sank, as she looked at him and nodded. She never wanted to see him again after he booted her out like she meant nothing to him, even if it was to save-face for him and the company and for her safety. 

“You’re going to get him to supply us the gin and get him to pay us full price for our efforts with this am I clear?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” y/n said. 

“If you fail, we’ll be meeting again under very different circumstances.” He said, an evil smile playing at his lips.

She’s known him long enough to know that he meant he’d kill her or Tommy, and as much as she hated the man who broke her heart, she still loved him at the same time, and she couldn’t let him or his family die over a silly business deal.

As soon as she was dismissed, she grabbed her suitcase and headed off to the boating docks, buying a ticket and boarding the ship. She knew her boss didn’t care when she left, as long as she got there sometime that week. And besides, she was too anxious to wait around for tomorrow, knowing this was time sensitive. 

After the grueling ride aboard the ship, she went into London after going through the necessary checks. She used her alias and made her best impression, and then went on to Small Heath as assigned. When she got out of the car, she smirked as her red heels hit the black soil covered streets. Walking by a shop, she saw a women’s tailor and decided to stop in, buying a well made pant suit. It fit well and was a nice gray color with pinstripe detailing. Looking around further, she decided on a gold pocket watch, and nice hat to match, and then went on her way after buying it all. 

Walking down the street, she saw the Garrison, causing all the memories she had with Tommy and the rest of the blinders to start coming back. They were like brothers to her and despite her bitterness, she still loved them, as they were not particularly happy in seeing her go, as that was solely Tommy’s decision. 

Y/n shook the thoughts from her head, and waited outside the shop, leaning her back against the coal-black wall. While lighting a cigarette and taking a drag from it, she looked off into the distance seeing a man in a peaked cap riding a dark horse, much different than the white one she saw two years ago. As he pulled up near Shelby Company Ltd. He stopped in his tracks as y/n took another drag of her cigarette, looking at her pocket watch.  

“Nice horse Tommy. You’re right on time.” She said relishing in the fact that she could use her normal accent. Her sunglasses and new brimmed hat helped in disguising her face.

“Thank you miss....Who are you?” He asked his eyes burning a hole through her shaded lenses. She smirked and took them and the hat off, revealing her face.

“Y/n...” He said, his eyes growing wide. He immediately took her inside and to his office, shutting the door behind him. 

“What on earth are ya fucking doing here?” He asked.

“That’s not a nice greeting for someone you haven’t seen in two years Tom. But given what happened I didn’t expect anything nice from you anyways. I’m here on business.” She said, walking past him to put her cigarette out. He watched as she walked towards him, her arms folded over her well-fitting suit, standing in front of him.

“What business is that?” He asked. 

“Oh you know, just a little...mafia business back in New York. Nothing too big... except that you’ve pissed off my boss. And now I’m sent here to try to make a deal.” She said making herself at home in one of his leather armchairs. He raised an eyebrow and sat on the edge of his desk near her. 

“What deal? Who are you working for y/n?” He asked.

“The Black Hats. Mr Romboldi to be exact...ring a bell yet? The son of a bitch who took me in after you booted me out without a goodbye? Yeah, him. He still remembers your little low-ball offer for the guns, the ammo, and-” She chuckled as she remembered the drugs. “-the fucking snow.” She said giving him daggers.

He looked down, y/n could see the gears turning in his head.

“I told you to leave and not go anywhere near them y/n. Why the hell are ya working for em aye?” He asked angrily. 

“You and I both know I couldn’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs and making pies for someone I never loved all day. I wasn’t going to be some house wife to some old bastard while I could’ve been out shooting and working a meaningful job. I wasn’t going to let myself rot.” She said, her own voice raising. 

“You didn’t have to choose this life though. You could’ve left this behind like I wanted you to.” He said lighting a cigarette. 

Y/n chuckled. “I remember what you told me one time, when I first started getting involved in Peaky business. You said and I quote, ‘you can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want.’ And you know what Tommy? I wanted this life, I wanted you, I wanted to make a name for myself, I wanted the thrill of this job because I often feel nothing. But I’ve only gotten half of that.” She said getting up, pacing around the room as he watched.

“What did you not get y/n?” He asked too focused on the mafia issue at hand to realize she mentioned him.

“You, you fucking idiot! But you threw me out, no goodbyes, no letters, nothing.” She said, her eyes filling up with tears.

“Y/n...that was two years ago. I was trying to protect you.” He said noticing the tears running down her face. 

“I had a job. I had a life here. I’m not expecting you to ever want me back but god damn it I’d like an apology. Hell, you didn’t protect me from shit.” She said, thinking about some of the things she had to do to get through to some people for her boss. She shuddered at the thought.

He looked hurt, seeing her like that, and despite it being two years since that day, he still loved her all the same, he was just terrible at showing it. He never thought he’d see her again, and in that moment he decided he wasn’t going to let her go again. 

She wiped her eyes as she felt him walk up behind her, she tensed up, not knowing what would happen next. He put his hand on her shoulder lightly, and she turned around to face him, her eyes still bright and hopeful after all that had happened. He loved her, and after she left, he mentally beat himself up over it every day. He turned to snow for a while, along with his opium, but what he truly needed was y/n. Fearing she may be too angry to every take him back, he hesitated as he brushed the tears from her cheek and kissed her. 

Instead of slapping him or walking out, she deepened the kiss, which surprised Tommy, as he pulled her as close has he could, not wanting to let her go. When they parted, lightly gasping for air, he smiled slightly and so did she. 

“I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry y/n.” He said stepping back from her.

She looked at him as she processed what happened, she never expected to fall right back into his arms after all she went through, but here she was, being sucked in by his ocean blue eyes once again. 

She straightened her blazer out and pushed a stray hair out of her face. 

“Why did you kiss me Thomas?” Y/n asked taking another cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. 

Thomas thought for a moment, trying to pick his words less recklessly this time around.

“When I forced you out, I stayed up every night beating myself up. I’ll never get those nights back, but those nights made me realize something y/n.” He said.

“If you’re going to break my heart again just say it already.” She said tapping her heel impatiently. 

“I love you...y/n.” He said looking at her, studying her as she moved anxiously. He loved the way she looked, the way she carried herself, the way she wasn’t afraid to call him out. But he was terrified for the first time in his life that the woman he loved wouldn't return those very words back to him.

She looked down, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I came here not only because of an order Tom...but because deep down despite my hate for what you did, I knew why you did it. And even though two fucking years have passed, I still haven’t been able to get you out of my head. So, I guess what the fuck I’m trying to say is that I love you too, you bastard.” She said looking up at him a light smile playing at her lips.

He smiled and walked over to her and took her hand in his, kissing it lightly. 

“I promise to never do something so foolish again y/n. I swear on me fucking life...so am I forgiven?” He asked.

She took his words into consideration and nodded, bringing his lips to hers. Breaking away, she walked around the room slowly, remembering all of their fun times in here after-hours. 

“So, about Mr. Romboldi, y/n how serious is this?” He asked.

“Well, he said that you’ll have to pay them full price for their services. He wants your gin. He sent me to persuade you to pay him for distribution and sales in the states......and It’s not easy Tommy, smuggling things.... especially alcohol back to the states........I hate him and his men believe me, but they risk their lives getting that kind of stuff so I think you should consider paying a full price.” She said.

“And if I don’t?” He asked. 

Y/n sighed. “I was also sent here because he knew you couldn’t refuse an offer if it came from a pretty woman. Now, he may have been right on that part, but he doesn’t know that I’ve been working under an alias for him, and he doesn’t know I know you. They think my name is Y/N Anderson, from Virginia. And so if you don’t take this offer, they’re going to find out, and then Mr. Romboldi and his men are gonna waltz in here and kill you, me, and everyone you care about because they’ve already been wronged once, and they don’t like being wronged a second time.” She said sternly, taking another drag from her cigarette.

He sighed and ran his hands over his head, his face growing angry.

“What is it Tommy?” Y/n asked, noticing his behavior. 

“After all this time, I thought maybe I’d be done for a moment y/n. With this whole empire of a business. But I think that moment will never come...before I stupidly forced you away, I had everything. I had this going great, and at night I could sleep. But now, when I do sleep, I dream. And in my dream, someone wants my crown.” He said with a sad look to his eyes. Y/n came over to him and hugged him gently, feeling him relax at her touch.

“Well, I’m here now. And the only way you’re going to get a break and get to keep your crown is if you help me fucking take care of this Thomas.” She said. 

He sighed and took a moment to think.

“Alright...in that case...you’re going to call him from a payphone tomorrow. You’re going to say I accept his offer now that we have the fucking funds to do so, and you’re going to tell him we can meet in a weeks time. We’ll meet in charlies yard again.” He said.

“So we have a deal then?” She asked grinning, still embracing him.

“We have a deal.” He said. 

“So now that I’m here...where shall I stay?” She asked.

“Well, first I’m going to re-introduce you to the family which I’m sure they’ll love. Then, I’ll be taking you to my place.” He said.

“And why is that?” She asked a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

“Because we have some unfinished business.” He said, before pecking her lips and ushering y/n out the door and into the family meeting room.

[coliverxxx]

#PleaseTreatChenleFairly

Summary: Exactly how it sounds like from the title.

Pairings: Chenle x Everyone, Chenle x Reader, Everyone x Reader

Angst: Angst, Comfort

Words: 4,209

Warnings: None, hopefully

A/N: A couple of days ago, this hashtag trended on Twitter and this was pretty much how I reacted to it and also how I wanted to react to it if I had the chance. I know I said Chenle x Reader but when I wrote this, I kind of wrote it like the Reader represents the NCTzens. Of course, we can’t all be that person but I’d like to think this is what everyone will do if they can had it happen to Chenle under their watch. Because Chenle doesn’t deserve to be treated differently and unfairly from the rest of the members. He works hard to bring us quality music and performance like the rest of them. He’s not even my bias and yet I feel so bad how they treated him that I even wrote some four thousand words because that’s how bad I felt and I needed to let it out.

Please Treat Chenle Fairly

Because of the nature of your work, you have worked for contracts and extended contracts with several entertainment companies and through luck or lack of it thereof (it was luck, you wouldn't really fool yourself) you met, worked with a lot of times, and became close with the kids of NCT. It hasn't always happened with everyone you worked with but they have managed to piqued your interest through their obvious talent, extraordinary bond, and boisterous laughter (especially when together) that unconsciously or not, you would join in. The way they laugh when huddled in the same room was probably what did it for you, especially when they were laughing at one another's individual strangeness (which sort of makes them human and that's probably what paved their way to your heart).

However, you were particularly soft with the babies from their youngest average age unit, especially after Mark left and they all seemed a little lost with no one among them to call "Yo, Dream!" anymore. It has always been engraved in your being to be a little more accommodating to their needs, a little more ready to extend a helping hand whatever they may need, and a little more protective. Sometimes, the older ones — Jungwoo, because that boy could always use a little more love and he'd have the extra space in his heart to take it all, and Ten, just because he liked pestering you, most of the time — would complain about you being a little more doting, a little more giving to Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung but you knew they were all just empty complaints because they probably do more and would do more than you if needed.

That's how precious the Dreamies, all of them, were to you and the boys.

Which was why you couldn't help the fire that was burning inside of you, the tightening of your chest, the heaviness of your breathing, and the overall pissed-off frustration of your mind when you logged into Twitter to check the updates from fans about the boys' 'To You #3' but instead of Jaehyun trending about asking Taeil to be with him even until they were forty or fifty, you saw another hashtag that was trending that you never thought you'd see at around one or two in the morning.

#PleaseTreatChenleFairly

At first, you honestly thought it was something simple like letting Chenle be the ending fairy of their live performances or something. Of course, as much as you didn't want to lose anymore sleep, you couldn't stop your finger from clicking the trending hashtag and seeing what it was really about and what really happened because this was Chenle. If it was a hoax, that would probably be better. But if there was something that happened that made fans all over the world to trend that hashtag, you needed to know because Chenle — or any of them — does not deserve to be treated unfairly.

With curious eyes looking for answers and overly anxious fingers, you scrolled down the top tweets. You might not understand Chinese even if your life depended on it which regrettably was the reason why you could not understand the post of Chenle's biggest fan club but you could clearly see. You could clearly see the images from their album of a group shot that Chenle was stupidly cropped from.

Your mind was racing because you worked with Super Junior back when they have thirteen members. You still worked with the group even now that they have nine active members left. You worked with Girls' Generation when they both have nine and eight members. You even worked with groups from other agencies with significantly more members. Which was why you couldn't understand no matter how hard you try to think of an explanation why they could inadvertently crop Chenle out of this own group photo in his own group album.

They were six members! Six ridiculously good-looking and talented members. Six good people who has an average age of twenty years old bringing more smiles into this world than probably who you wanted to blame for this huge fucked up mess. Six members. Six.

You stared at the photo through your phone. As much as you were understandably mad at this, when you read the tweets of the fans, you were more sad than mad. Imagine being Chenle's fan ever since he was a child, five or six. This boy was a music protege, a naturally gifted young boy with a very beautiful voice, who came from China, trained for a few months, and debuted in a foreign country he could only speak a little at that point. Imagine how heartbreaking his fans felt when they saw the boy they loved purely with all their heart cropped out in his own fucking album. You wanted to cry and you also wanted to hunt down whoever was responsible for this and rip that person's head off (okay, figuratively, you weren't a murderer, but can that person at least be transferred in another department because he/she/they clearly wasn't/weren't cut out for this).

It was impossible to retrieve every single ordered album and replace it with a right one, one which didn't have such animosity of cropping Chenle out of the group picture. You tweeted and retweeted several tweets. You wanted to do more than that but it was two in the morning and you couldn't see the kids until at least the following night. You tried watching 'To You #3' again but you couldn't concentrate on Jaehyun's words for Taeil anymore and that wasn't right. You tried rewatching Dream and 127's reaction to 'Ridin' music video but it wasn't as fun as you first watched it. Because you couldn't keep Chenle out of your mind.

Then, you saw their uploaded 'The Stage' video. Somehow, with all the content since that afternoon until evening, you either completely missed that or delayed watching it for a better time. It's not like you could watch while doing your thing at the toilet or when you were chatting with a client once the videos were uploaded. (But then again, that would still depend.) You thought it was something to tear your mind off the unexpected but probably already timely hashtag because you understand the fans, especially Chenle's fans, have kept quite for so long. But it wasn't. You didn't even need to see it from the tweets (but you saw later when you checked again to torture yourself) when you shouted to yourself, "Where the fuck was Chenle's message to Jisung?"

No one could tell you it was already finished after Haechan's message to Chenle. No fucking way. Because Taeil said his message to Taeyong. Because that's how it was supposed to be. The last member was going to give his message to the first member. So what, all the first members now who would give their message don't deserve their own? "Are you kidding me?" you frustratedly wanted to throw your hands in the air but you stopped yourself because you would look ridiculous even to yourself and you would not stoop down to the level of these people who were doing this to Chenle. You would not, however, not do anything though. You tweeted a bit more and might have reached the maximum daily tweet capacity because #PleaseTreatChenleFairly deserved to be trending. Because if they could not treat Chenle fairly, they might as well be called out on it. You would not keep quiet. Hell no.

You weren't sure how you fell asleep that night (or morning, depends on how you look at it) but between reading through #PleaseTreatChenleFairly, another hashtag began trending which was #재민버블 (Jaemin bubble). You would not stand another unfair treatment or another slander involving your children. Surely, the company wouldn't appreciate something burning in front of its building at three in the morning. It was ironic because you were still frustrated with Chenle's unfair treatment. Knowing yourself, it would last long, depending on how the company treats Chenle from now on. It could last years. It was during times like this when you were grateful that you work with them but you don't work for them. Perhaps the only reason why you keep working on this goddamn company was because of the boys. Seeing Jaemin's message for their fans sort of slowed down your self-destructive process of committing arson and that lulled you to sleep.

It was strange how you could be affected negatively by some people (as indirectly as it may be because this wasn't Chenle's fault, certainly not, it was the damn company and the people who worked in that album photobook, you needed that cleared up) like their pain was also your pain, that cliche, and be calmed by the exact same people, like their happiness and achievement was also your happiness and achievement. What do they call that nowadays?

The first thing you did the following morning was check #PleaseTreatChenleFairly though and you wondered if your tweet capacity had replenished by then. It was still trending when you were having your breakfast, when you were getting ready for work, and when you were leaving your place.

Your work, you were glad, with how demanding and time-consuming it was, took most of your brain energy the entire day that you barely even glanced at your phone. You were finishing up something very late when you walked past the practice rooms and heard some shuffling in one of the rooms. You didn't need to hear clearly for you to know what song was blasting through because it was safe to say you'd probably hear 'Ridin' more than a working person could. (Well, you might not be checking your phone for messages, or tweets, for this matter, but you were streaming a lot. How could you not? The boys deserved the world. You knew how much hard work they put in their music and in their dance. This was just something you needed to do.)

You peeked inside, careful not to disturb anything that might be going on, and was not surprised when you see them practicing even at eleven in the evening. They were in the middle of promotions. Surely, the logical thing to do in their free time, as little as that may be, was to rest, but they were still practicing. You wanted to scold them, you wanted to call them out and tell them to pack up and go home, but you stopped when you saw Chenle dancing with such power and intensity and suddenly, you wanted to cry. You were an adult working in one of the biggest companies in the country at the moment, watching a group of boys with an average age of twenty-years old dance at almost midnight, and you were tearing up.

Crumbling, you forced yourself not to. You ran to the nearest vending machine and bought drinks enough for maybe, the whole twenty-one of them. You were desperately trying to distract yourself. When you came back, when it seemed like they have taken a little break, you took a deep breath and opened the door, showing yourself with the drinks.

They were stunned a moment when the door opened but recovered easily when they saw your face. Unsurprisingly, Haechan and Jaemin were instantly approaching and attaching themselves on you like glue but you expertly dodged them and went to Chenle who was sitting on the floor. He seemed a little surprised at first because whenever Haechan and Jaemin would glue themselves on you, it was almost impossible for the other members to hug you until you would literally tear them away when you needed to go already. You weren't sure how to keep your emotions in check but you have been with them for quite some time already and during these times, none of you really needed to say anything.

That's why you just hugged Chenle. That's why you just did the thing you wanted so badly to do since last night.

It was expected when he seemed startled at first but easily relaxed when he realized you were the one hugging him. And then, Chenle was the one who crumbled. You thought it was a blessing for when some people don't allow themselves to crumble and in a way, make room for those who were holding out for so long to do so. These people don't always have the luxury to go down, to feel bad, or even just to feel. (The luxury, and also the time.) And by disabling yourself from that chance, you were giving it to them. Chenle didn't cry or anything like that, he didn't even sob, but he held on to you like a baby koala would, tight and not letting you go until he was almost sitting on top of you, face hidden and buried on your shoulder, arms tight around you.

They weren't blind and they weren't holding their phones just for the sake of holding them. Of course, more times, there were a lot of things to ignore in the Internet, but when some things literally have your name in it, it was hard to ignore. Even if they wouldn't talk about, or comment on them, it didn't mean they never saw it or it wasn't affecting them. Most of the time, they don't exactly have a choice.

Your arms were as tight around Chenle as his arms were around you. You weren't surprised when you looked at the other members, none of them was speaking and was only looking at you and Chenle, but everything was crystal clear in their eyes. Renjun's eyes were frighteningly mad because he wanted to take action but knew he couldn't. Jeno was frozen and speechless because he probably didn't know what to do but god knows how much that boy wanted to do something, especially for his teammate, a brother. Haechan wanted to say something to lighten up the atmosphere but he didn't want to disturb the peace he knew all of them were desperately grasping for since last night. Jaemin's eyes were soft, so soft, because he wanted to hug Chenle and give him the same affirmation and console him just as much as you were doing and was just glad you were there to do it when he wouldn't receive it from them because he didn't want to worry anyone. And Jisung... a part of you wanted to tear yourself from Chenle to hug the youngest boy because he was sobbing. He was trying to keep it as quiet as he could but even when he was furiously trying to wipe the tears, it was obvious that the thing that happened to Chenle was affecting him just as much as the older boy. Actually, when you looked at them with their heads and shoulders down, you could say the same to all of them. If you could just multiply yourself and hug each one of them.

You closed your eyes and just tried focusing on holding Chenle for now because you knew he needed it the most right now. You didn't know how long you stayed like that but you opened your eyes when Haechan said, "Chenle, don't you think that hug's long enough?" It was light and was supposed to be cheeky but you looked up at Haechan and saw the exact expression he was holding a while ago. He was still worried. Actually, they were all worried.

Carefully, you moved a little to take a peek at Chenle's face, to see if he was listening but to your surprise, his eyes were flittering, his mouth was slightly open, and when you listened closely, his breathing wasn't hitched anymore like when you first hugged him. Close enough though, it broke your heart to see stray tears in the corner of his eyes. You turned to look at Haechan and the others and mouthed, "He's sleeping."

"Oh," Jeno softly said, suddenly moving to one of the lockers inside the practice room and coming back with a retrieved blanket. He easily draped it in Chenle, and you, since you and Chenle were basically tangled together, with a thin smile. "He finally slept, huh?"

You looked from him to the other members, waiting for an explanation. You knew comebacks were frustrating and exhausting but they could always sleep in the car, or in between schedules. It wasn't ideal but they need to make use of what was given to them no matter how small of a time that may be. Sadly, that's just the way it goes for them, and other idols, sometimes.

"He hasn't slept since yesterday," Renjun said, sighing, and sinking on the floor a couple of feet away from you.

"I was telling fans to sleep last night but it was actually for him, too," Jaemin continued, sitting across you with Jeno. He looked down at his hands and muttered, "He shouldn't have seen that."

Haechan sat on your other side but much closer than Renjun's distance. "But you can't blame the fans. They've had enough," he said to no one in particular but it was Jeno who sighed loudly, a little exasperatedly. "Someone please make Jisung stop crying," he added, scowling a little for effect but they all knew they were as affected as what was happening as their youngest. They just couldn't cry all at once for Chenle because what would you even do then?

"He always... worked so hard," Jisung croaked out in between his silent sobs, covering his entire face so no sound would come out. He didn't want to wake up Chenle but he couldn't stop the tears he was holding. He wouldn't say anything, he wouldn't tell them it was hurting, he would smile at them as if everything was fine because he didn't want them to worry and add to the stress they have because of their comeback, but they knew better. And yet, they couldn't do anything, and perhaps it was the reason why Jisung couldn't stop himself from crying.

They all looked pretty miserable and you wanted to tell them they all worked so hard, all of them, each one of them, but Chenle was still sleeping on your shoulder and you wouldn't want to wake him up, not after what you heard from the others.

Suddenly, Renjun was standing up and getting more blankets from the lockers. Alarmed, you looked at him as he was approaching back at your little party and mouthed, "What are you doing? You're not sleeping here."

"But Chenle's already sleeping though," Renjun answered in a quiet voice.

"I just want to let him sleep for a while," you tried explaining in hushed whispers, panic immediately rising to dangerous levels for you. "But you guys can't all sleep here. You need to go home and rest properly. I can drive Chenle home later."

You stared at them because they obviously weren't listening, already building their little circle around you, with no pillow, just blankets around themselves. It was almost like a sleepover. Jeno had the nerve to look at you for a while and asked considerately, "Do you need extra blanket? Are you warm enough?"

"Guys, I'm serious," you were already speaking at this point in your normal voice, but still careful not to wake Chenle up.

They weren't listening. As far as they were concerned, they were already in their sleeping positions around you and Chenle. You couldn't let them sleep here but you were not a ninja, you couldn't multiply yourself and drag each one of their tired asses home while sleeping cradling Chenle in between your arms. You gave up when Jisung gave you one last pointed look, as if making sure Chenle was still sleeping and alright and safe and no one was going to hurt him, and pulled the blanket above his head.

You stared at the bag of drinks you bought for them, untouched and losing their coldness, wondering how you would explain to their managers tomorrow why they ended up sleeping in the practice room with you. They would probably let it slide, since it was you, but you were more worried about their sleeping comfort and getting their much needed rest than explaining to the authorities. Explaining to the managers was one thing, explaining to the other older members were another (based on previous instances when you had a sleepover with Dream because you promised them you would as soon as they got their first win and talented babies as they were got it quickly). You could already hear Johnny's exaggerated questioning and Mark's excessive worrying (because he knew, you knew he knew, and he would probably be there with the lot of you if he didn't have his own hectic schedule), but this time, you wouldn't blame them. They all have pretty good reason as you knew if Dream had a good grasp of what happened, the older members had more than good grasp. They were probably trying their best to stop Taeyong or Doyoung or Mark from calling out their own company in their own ways.

You were lulled to sleep with the thought that you might never be enough to protect all of them, but they've also got one another's backs and that's pretty good coverage already.

Four hours later, Chenle felt something wet touching his finger and mildly stirred from his sleep, blinking his eyes several times to figure out why he was literally sleeping on you in the practice room. You looked like his make-shift bed that was warm and hugging him back and briefly, he wondered why couldn't you be his bed from now on because he didn't want another sleepless night. He looked at his finger and realized the drinks you brought them lost all moisture and have made a little pool beside you. He stared at your face, slightly opened mouth, and loose arms around him, wondering how someone could sleep sitting uncomfortably like that with a legal adult as big as him weighing on top of you.

As if on cue, you suddenly tightened your arms around him again, effectively crushing him in a hug, and whispering, "Don't worry, Chenle. We love you. We will always protect you." His face was crushed again in your shoulder and he knew you were sleeping when you said that but he bit his lips to keep himself from crying because he knew even when sleeping, you meant that. Why else would you sleep in such insufferable condition if not?

Probably being lulled to sleep again, your arms loosened around him and he was able to lift himself off you since his legs were beginning to numb being in the same position for a few hours. Your back was leaning against the wall, your body facing forward, that Chenle didn't expect what he saw when he turned around and realized it wasn't just the two of you who slept inside the practice room. On his right side was Haechan, bundled like a ball, on his left side was Renjun, sleeping soundly with his body facing the wall, on his back was Jeno without a blanket, Jaemin with two blankets, and Jisung with a blanket to his face. His mouth hanged when he saw everyone in such uncomfortable sleeping states when they could have gone home anytime, they could have woken him up, they could have told him to sleep at home (which he couldn't, he tried but there was no sleep when the world seemed to be telling you weren't worth anything, maybe even sleep), but they stayed.

They stayed, Chenle realized. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Jisung, and you. He couldn't stop the helpless whimper that came out of his mouth, but it wasn't helpless like he didn't mean a thing, it was helpless because he knew he meant something and that you and the people sleeping around him was proof of it and thay you guys were going to prove to him over and over again.

You blinked your eyes and saw Chenle's back, his head hanging low, and you gently pulled him back into you and softly said, "Chenle, sleep some more. I'm going to drive you guys home later so your managers won't scold you."

Chenle dipped his head on your already drool-stained top because of him and you only hugged him tighter. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to, because he was shaking and probably biting his bottom lip to stop himself from crying the tears he probably thought he didn't deserve to cry. After a while, when you were almost dozing off again, he whispered in broken syllables, "Thank you."

You brought one hand to his head, gently patting his hair, before hugging him again, making sure he was comfortable, and saying, "You deserve the world."

You weren't sure why you said that but aside from hugging him, that's what you wanted to tell him the most since yesterday. It was unfair how someone who could make millions smile by his voice and his smile was being taken away his own smile. You knew he didn't deserve that. He deserved the world.

[dontgotothenetherworld]

my valentine's anniversary (lydia x reader)

so, @ravenwolfcooper and i decided to work together to write a lil valentine’s day fic for all you lydia lovers

we decided on the basic plot together, and i wrote the first half, and @ravenwolfcooper wrote the second half, so i hope you enjoy what we came up with!

of course, the fic takes place on valentine’s day, but it also happens to be your one year anniversary with lydia. she takes it upon herself to plan the perfect date, but things don’t exactly go according to plan.

2869 words

cw: femreader. anxiety.

you sat silently in lydia’s decade old minivan. she had just recently gotten her licence, and an old car to go with it, and she wanted to drive you to her valentine’s surprise. 

exactly a year ago, you had asked lydia out, and the two of you went on your first date. you planned all that out, so lydia took it upon herself to plan something special for the day.

lydia had started driving just after school let out, and 35 minutes later, she was still driving. there was no evidence of civilization around, spare the odd farm, which you dutifully pointed out every time you passed one, by calling “horse.”

as the song ended, you asked, “lydia, where are we going?”

”i told you, it’s a surprise. we’re almost there, anyway.” although the road was desolate, lydia gripped the wheel firmly and was constantly scanning the road. even just lydia driving you to wherever it is that you were going was meaningful and romantic to you. lydia was incredibly anxious to be at the steering wheel. she didn’t like driving, and was scared of having a passenger in her car, lest anything happen and it be on her conscious.

you went back to silence, simply enjoying lydia’s playlist and the scenery.

a song and a half later, lydia turned off the main road. she rolled up to what appeared to be the entrance to an amusement park. “here we are!” lydia exclaimed, visibly excited.

you slowly got out of the car, taking in the decrepit buildings before you. “lydia, is this place abandoned?” you asked.

”uh only about five years, yeah.” she replied, walking straight through one of the turnstiles guarding the entrance.

”it’s only been abandoned for five years?” you followed her.

”yeah, and all, well most, of the rides are still in operating condition!” she twirled around in the middle of the opening courtyard. 

frankly, this wasn’t the valentine’s day/ anniversary date that you had in mind, but it was very much something lydia would do. you ran to catch up with your girlfriend, and tackled her in a hug, “what ride do you want to go on first?”

she considered her options for a moment, “how about we try the storm chaser?”

”race ya to it!” you began sprinting to where all the storm chaser signs were pointed.

bad idea. because lydia, having been to the park before, of course knew the shortcuts and beat you to the entrance. but being the incredible girlfriend that she is, she waited for you before walking on.

you settled into the middle right seat at the very front of the coaster. ”are you sure this is safe?”

lydia stood at the podium thing that held all the buttons to operate the ride. she hit one of them, and ran to sit next to you before the coaster left. “nope.” she gave you a toothy grin.

your stomach dropped, and the coaster was still making its way up the first hill. You turned to lydia, “so, if we die, will we haunt thi- aaaaahhhh!!!!” note to self, don’t start conversations on roller coasters that plunge down at a 90 degree angle.

lydia raised her hands in the air, laughing through the entire ride. mostly at you. you screamed bloody murder the entire time. you weren’t usually so scared of rollercoasters, but this was a particularly intense one. combined with the fact that you’d never been on it before… and lydia just told you that it wasn’t safe and you could possibly die… yeah you had a reason to be freaked out.

”wasn’t that exciting?” your girlfriend asked. she held your hand as you hopped off the ride.

”that would be an understatement.” you stumbled to find your balance. of course lydia was perfectly fine. you shielded a bit of petty resentment over the simple fact.

”did you have fun, though?” lydia seemed slightly anxious.

you thought for a second, “i think i’ll have to try another ride to know for sure.” you kissed her on the cheek.

”then we’ll have to try the mind warp. It’s even more intense than that one.” lydia began skipping.

”more intense?” you shuddered at the thought.

“don’t worry, i’ll hold your hand and everything will be okay.” lydia snuggled into your arm.

“awww, thanks babe. that’d be so much more reassuring if you hadn’t just told me these rides are unsafe.”

lydia chuckled, “oh i was kidding about that.”

“kidding?” you screamed as you turned to face her.

“yeah, i just wanted you to get a little scared.” she held her pointer finger and thumb about a centimeter apart, to show how much you should’ve been scared.

you held your arms about a foot apart. “more like that much scared.”

lydia ushered you in front of her as you walked up to the next ride. “well on this ride you’ll only be a little scared.”

this one was a two seater. the first hill was twice the height of the storm chaser, and it was essentially just spirals. so many right turns.

you stumbled off the ride, holding your hand to your mouth, “i think i’m gonna be sick.”

lydia, obviously concerned, looked around for the nearest trash can for if you actually threw up.

you pretended to throw up all over her, ending in giggles.

”okay, fair enough.” she laughed along.

the two of you fell into a moment of comfortable silence as you passed by the alley of carnival games. you spotted a huge brown teddy bear that was one of the prizes. it was a little dusty, but it was underneath a roof, so it hadn’t been too terribly exposed to the elements. you pointed it out to lydia.

a light flashed across her eyes, “i know! i’ll win it for you!” she ran to the game. it was one of those ones where you have to toss a ring around the lip of a bottle. you could never figure out how they were rigged, but they definitely were.

you idled behind her. “you can try, but i don’t want to be waiting on you all day.”

with the three rings in hand, lydia laughed, “trust me, it’ll be nowhere near that long.”

you raised your eyebrow. lydia tossed the first ring. it missed. “just warming up.” she said nervously. it was if she wasn’t expecting that, like she was so sure she’d make it on the first try. you didn’t know lydia to be particularly good with her hand-eye coordination, so you weren’t sure why.

lydia tossed the second, it landed straight on. the third ring landed directly beside the second.

”impressive, but tough luck. you need to get all three in order to win.” you had pulled yourself up onto the counter where you sat. 

”yeah, yeah, yeah. i know the rules.” she picked three more rings up. as each consecutive ring landed around a bottle, she winked at you. you watched, slightly impressed, as she readied herself for the third and final toss. it landed.

lydia reached up to steal the stuffed animal from its resting place.

you jumped down from the counter, and lydia hugged you, with the stuffed bear in between the two of you. 

you laughed, “what should i name him?”

lydia considered it, “arson.”

”arson?”

”yeah, it’s a badass name.”

”just that?”

”uh huh, yeah.”

you breathed a sigh of relief, “okay, good. because i thought that you were planning to commit arson, and naming the bear that was like ‘a cute little thing to remember the time we committed arson together!’ and i was definitely not on board with that.”

lydia wheezed, “i mean, if you want to commit arson…”

”no! i do not!” you whacked her with the bear’s arm.

 after a few, more gentle, rides, lydia convinces you to go on the ride that is, in your opinion, is the scariest one in the entire park. it simply goes up, then drops you down. your stomach did flips just thinking about it.

”don’t worry, i’ll be right next to you.” said lydia.

”and arson. don’t forget arson will be next to me too.”

she chuckled. “you see that line?” she pointed to a separation in paint colors what looked like one story up on the tower. you nodded. “it’ll slow down there. we’ll make it down, all safe.

you looked between the seats and the control panel. “are you sure you’ll be able to be next to me?” on all the previous rides, lydia had pressed the start button, then ran to jump in next to you.

”i- you raise a good point. um…” she looked in between the two. “yeah, i don’t think i’ll be able to. but! you really should go on without me. it’s my favorite ride, and it’d be a shame if you never got to go on it.”

you hugged arson close to your chest. “okay. i guess. but you’re getting me my favorite chocolates. the dark ones that aren’t too dark and are in the shape of penguins.”

lydia grinned, “i’d do that for you anyway.” she helped you into the seat, then secured arson next to you.

your girlfriend flipped the switch, and your seat started making its way up. lydia waved at you, beaming. you meekly waved back, trying not to think about how high up you were getting. trying, and failing, to not think about how far away from the ground you were, and how much it would hurt if you fell.

you looked out, at the skyline. you saw a storm approaching. always a good sign.

”hey, y/n, you’re going to drop in 3…” lydia said over the intercom system. “2…”

you squinted your eyes closed, and stiffened your body in anticipation. but lydia didn’t say one.

you began to panic. how long had you been stuck up there? it couldn’t have been more than two minutes, right? it wasn’t that long, surely everything was fine.

you swallowed, and looked down. lydia was nowhere to be seen. but beetlejuice was there.

you heard him breathe into the intercom, “one.”

you were sent flying down. you gripped the seat so hard you might break the plastic. you had your eyes opened, and the ground seemed to be approaching more quickly than it was supposed to. 

but it’d stop soon, it was supposed to stop soon.

the ride screeched to halt a mere inches away from the ground.

your ears stopped ringing. you hadn’t realized it, but you had been screaming the entire way down. 

beetlejuice was doubled over laughing. you finally saw lydia, being held by one of beetlejuice’s clones like a cat from its collar.

”y-you should’ve seen your face!” beetlejuice yelled.

the clone let go of lydia. she ran to you, to help you get out of the death trap. she held your shaking body in her arms.

”i told you not to do this! i told you it wouldn’t end well, and look what you do, you do it anyway! go away, beetlejuice!” she yelled over your shoulder.

”bu-”

”just go.”

lydia helped you stand up. “c’mon, let’s go, y/n. let’s get out of here.” she grabbed your bear, and the two of you began to make your way out of the park. you stayed nestled to her, because in her arms, no one could touch you.

you only let go when lydia had to get in the driver’s side to drive you home. she wiped a tear from your cheek, “it’s gonna be alright, y/n.”

lydia drove you home and was now sprawled over the couch of her own house.

beetlejuice was sulking in the corner knees pulled up against his chest

delia was incredibly confused as to what happened.

“so i’m not sure what happened. you want to talk about it?” she asked, hopeful, since lydia does not always want to talk to her about anything really.

“it’s just that beetlejuice scared the ever living shit out it y/n and now our anniversary and valentine’s day is ruined!” she said sitting up to say this before falling back down dramatically 

“ohhh” delia began not sure on how to help lydia out here. “well what did beetlejuice do this time?”

lydia sighed which formed into a groan. “on one of the attractions he just made it seem she was going to plummet to her death while she was already scared of the thing!” she said. “saying this makes it worse…”

delia looked over at beetlejuice who just slowly floated up to get out of there. “right well that seems like a lot. hm how about you make it up to her by doing something… different?”

“how am I going to make it up though! she thought she was going to die! i can’t fix that!” lydia complained.

“well not with that attitude!" 

lydia and delia turned to the doorway and saw the maitlands standing there.

barbara had a huge grin on her face while she stood legs wide with her hands on her hips.

behind her stood adam who gave a nervous smile, with something in his hands.

"is that? y/n’s favorite food?” lydia asked her eyes slowly widening when she saw that adam was holding a plate with indeed your favorite food.

“you bet it is!” Barbara said happily.

“how did you know i would need it?” lydia asked standing up from the couch and walking over to them. adam gave her the plate, smiling brightly at her.

“mother’s instinct.” barbara said, without missing a beat.

“we eavesdropped” adam said quietly, right after his wife. “we’re sorry”

lydia simply smiled. “no worries.. this is perfect!” she said happily.

adam smiled back. “well, we even made a nice corner in the attic. there’s a tv with some cute disney movies you could watch.” he said.

-“lots of blankets and pillows too!” barbara said throwing her hands in the air, excited.

“how did you do that so fast?” lydia asked, narrowing her eyes at them. 

“don’t worry about that. just call your girlfriend and make it up to her!” barbara said, avoiding the question.

“we’re going to talk about that later” lydia said while doing the little ‘i’ll keep my eyes on you’ hand gesture.

lydia after that rushed to get attic to keep the food there and made sure it would stay warm before calling you up.

“hey y/n? sooo the park was obviously a complete disaster, but i might have a better thing set up!” she said hopeful.

“ehm that’s really sweet lyds. i would love to come over. as long as your friend is not going to crash the party again” you said through the phone, feeling all warm and fuzzy about that Lydia still wanted to make the day great!

“i’ll make sure beetlejuice does nothing! also i’ll pick you up!” lydia said excited beyond anything, so happy you still said yes.

“alright i’ll be waiting. do I have to wear anything fancy or something?” you asked just in case.

“nah you can even come in your pj’s or even your adorable little onesie.” lydia said before hanging up.

she drove to your house to pick you up. she squealed when she saw you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come in your onesie!” she said to you.

you blushed. “it’s comfy!” you complained, crossing your arms as you sat in the passenger’s seat.

“okay true, it’s just… you’re so cute!” she squealed and got a light smack from you.

she chuckled and started driving home.

when you two arrived she quickly dragged you upstairs and into the attic.

“okay why are we in the attic?” you asked but soon already saw it yourself.

your favorite food, and snacks even, all ready to be eaten together with millions of blankets and pillows to make yourself comfortable with.

“wow..” you said and smiled, childishly running towards the stack of pillows and blankets and throwing yourself on the pile.

“i can get used to this” you murmured as lydia chuckled sitting besides you.

“i thought you’d like it.” lydia said, amused. “so i set this up with some help and we can watch movies.” she said.

you sat up and rolled yourself up in one of the blankets to make a burrito out of yourself. “as long as we don’t watch any horror movies.”

“nope wouldn’t want to do that to you, babe. so I got some disney movies we can watch” lydia said with a grin.

you gasped. “we better watch the princess and the frog. maybe also lion king!” you said, smile from ear to ear.

“sure. we’ve got all the time in the world now.” lydia said, smiling.

you opened up your burrito and lydia crawled into it with you. she cuddled up to you as she put on the movie.

you two were eating the food and snacks and watching all the disney movies almost all night and into the morning.

by the time you two had gotten to the movie mulan, you started to fall asleep.

lydia noticed and held you close to her, kissing your forehead.

“i love you lyds”

“love you too y/n”

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book–butterfly

[criticalrolo]

Hmm for those angst questions how about 3, 10, and 21 for Ben and 6, 7, and 30 for Thalia ;D

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Ben was separated from his family and the rest of his firblog clan when the Maze Makers invaded their area and abducted him and a few others. The other firbolgs died off pretty quickly in the gladiatorial arena, so he became The Only One pretty quickly. Even after escaping, the rest of the clan had obviously fled as far away as possible and gone deep into hiding, so he has no idea where everyone is now. Now hes just. A sad boy :(

6. Have they ever committed a crime, or something they felt was wrong? What was it?

I mean. Arson obviously. But that was like, while fighting bad guys so she doesn’t feel bad. What she DOES feel bad about is her decision to wipe Naomi’s memory as an alternative to killing her. She stands by her decision even though it makes her feel awful, because at least she didn’t kill her own mother, but she was furious with Naomi for doing the same thing to both herself and to her stepmom, so now she’s a part of this awful circle of everyone brainwashing everyone else and it feels horrible. But at least she’s alive.

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why?

I think there’s people Thalia would say that she doesn’t really mean. She might say someone like Maron, who she professes to hate all the time but handed off a healing potion to once she heard he was consistently getting the shit kicked out of him. She might say Solairus, who has delusions of grandeur that apparently involve using her to kickstart the restoration of Andelia, but he IS her party member and feels enough loyalty that she wouldn’t really want him dead. Orag, another party member, implied he would kill Naomi if they had to and that Thalia should stay out of the way, so she might try to take him down first if given the opportunity, but it’s a given in the back of her mind that she would heal him afterwards.

I think the only ‘person’ she’d murder would be Graz’zt. for obvious demon lord reasons. and to keep from getting disintegrated herself

10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character?

Ben’s parents were very gentle, folksy forest people. They loved nature and storytelling. One huge impact they had on him was always telling him ancient stories about his giant heritage, which gave him the tools he needed to survive after being captured and becoming a gladiator. He’s been a bit more tuned in to the practical fighting giant magic than other firbolgs, and that saved his life.

21. Does your character have anyone that they really care about, to the point that they would give their life for them? If so, who are they and what is your character’s relation to them? If not, do they wish they did? Is there anyone they wish they could build such a relationship with?

Honestly? Not really. He’s a very independent person at this point, especially after a life of mainly isolation in the woods away from civilization of all kind. He won’t ever fit in to that life again after everything he’s seen and done, so he just sort of wanders now, trying to find a place (or a person?) to belong to again.

(...side note that he and our party’s half orc paladin Orag had a “bro”mance going the whole time I played him and we’ve 50% confirmed that if Orag lives through the campaign they’re getting a cottage together)

[dragonindigo245]

So I know there’s a superhero AU for the sides but consider... supervillain?

Bare with me. This is going to seem really funky but I figured why not? In this AU Thomas is a superhero and the sides are supervillains. Here’s a semi-breif- Oh nvm this is way to long. Woop dee doo. Feel free to scroll away if you don’t want a long AU. If you’re into that... here’s some character descriptions!

Thomas

•Thomas is a YouTuber who vlogs and is known for his small skits and vines. His most popular series after vine died though is his Awkward Adventures.

•He collabs with his friend Remy to do some “sleep” skits.

•He used to collab with Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil back when vine was around too but they hardly knew each other.

•Thomas hardly remembers them besides a few off set jokes.

•Thomas was born with the powers of flight, super speed, and to feel emotions.

•He can’t alter them but he does try to help others like the good person he is.

•Actually was convinced by Emile to take up superhero work. Emile didn’t mean it in the “go beat up bad guys” way but here they are.

•Everyone knows Thomas identity. He doesn’t hide it.

•Joan and Taylon designed him a superhero outfit. It is basically a white jumpsuit with rainbow cuffs and a giant, glowing rainbow star symbol in the middle. There’s also an epic rainbow cape to go with it.

•He doesn’t view the supervillains as bad guys, but rather broken people. He only uses physical force if they attack him. Otherwise he try’s to convince them to turn themselves in. Course it doesn’t work all that well but he tries.

•He doesn’t go by anything besides Thomas. He doesn’t need a superhero name to be super.

Patton

•Patton has two kids who go by Fiona and Liam (The kids from vine) and is a single parent.

•Their dirt poor and often have trouble scraping by. His kids don’t even go to school due to school fees.

•He declines any money from his friends and his family has given him all they can. They aren’t as poor as Patton but also aren’t comfortable.

•Logan actually comes by Patton’s house weekly to try and tutor them to his best abilities. In certain subjects they know more than kids there age but in some their lacking.

•Patton was born with the powers to alter emotions and to fly.

•He actually alters his own emotions so he can remain happy around other people.

•Problem is that only represses them for later. When he’s alone he’s a total mess.

•He started going into crime around 5 years after he adopted his kids, when poverty was at its max.

•He doesn’t have a job unfortunately because he was to low on money to send the kids to school, hence not having time for a job.

•Pat only does crime for the money so his kids can eat and he can keep his apartment. He really hates it though.

•He doesn’t have a supervillain costume but he wears the typical black mask superhero mask along with his cat hoodie.

•Despite hating crime, he’s the best at it compared to the others. He can actually be really intimidating when he needs to be.

•The only crimes he has committed are robbery, attempted murder (course he would never actually kill someone), and trespassing.

•His kids don’t know he’s a supervillain and he intends to keep it that way. They have gotten dangerously close though.

•He hasn’t been captured yet.

•He still calls Virgil his “dark, strange son”.

•Virgil accepts this and the kids treat him like an older brother.

•Patton was the one who got Virgil into eyeshadow surprisingly.

•Patton actually hasn’t gotten hurt by Thomas. He munipulates his emotions to make him not hurt him. Thomas has stopped him from doing whatever crime every single time though.

•His supervillain name is Curse, due to him wearing a cat hoodie and the whole black cats have bad luck thing. Also based on him often using fear to keep enemies away.

Logan

•He lives in a two room apartment, one room always remains locked and with a few modifications, made the door booby trapped.

•Only he knows how to get past them without destroying them.

•There’s actually a booby trap designed to go off if you destroy the door trap.

•He often tutors kids other than Patton’s. However they know what they should be learning so their significantly easier to tutor than Fiona and Liam.

•He received his powers in illegal experimentation though he was a test subject so he wasn’t in much trouble.

•Really he just had a migraine for a few days and suddenly he could lift an entire couch with one arm.

•His powers are unique. He is quite literal when he says “Knowledge is power.” His strength is based on how much intellect he possesses.

•Currently he can lift 2,000 pounds comfortably. This does mean he can lift some cars.

•Ironically because he looks so skinny, people tell him he should go to the gym so he’s able to hold his own in a fight.

•If you mention a new topic to him he doesn’t know much about, he will get a splitting headache and he is almost incapable of resisting researching it. He will become hyper fixated on it for like a month.

•His supervillain costume is a black jumpsuit along with a black bandana. Patton stitched in a black hood to the jumpsuit because Logan was worried that he could leave a hair at the scene of the crime, and get caught. He also extanges his glasses for contacts.

•He commits crimes the least often compared to everyone else, only doing so to unleash bottled up anger. When he gets angry enough for that though, all hell breaks lose.

•His first crime was commited in his softmore year of High School.

•His crimes include homoside, arson (don’t ask where the fire came from), assault, kidnapping, property destruction, and finally trespassing.

•He has been captured twice but has gotten away before they could unmask him.

•His supervillain name is Mind Bender because he wasn’t exactly discrete how his powers work. Really Thomas just came up with it on the fly and the media loved it.

Roman

•Roman lives in a two bedroom apartment with his roommate Remy who knows of Romans identity.

•Thankfully Remy doesn’t give a shit unless Roman intrupts his life with it. He had to take an oath not to tell anyone as long as Roman doesn’t bother the Starbucks industry.

•Remy may not care Romans’ a supervillain, but he will keep his identity a secret because he doesn’t go back on his word.

•Roman was considered to be a magnificent actor but was disgraced once Remus became a supervillain.

•He now works for a modeling company... as a photographer.

•He loathes he can’t be a model himself but doesn’t make a fuss about it.

•Honestly being the photographer is just rubbing salt in the wound for him.

•His powers include the ability to make anyone enamored with him and he counts his reflexes as a power even though it isn’t. He’s just crazy talented.

•His powers actually were a hex from Virgil, as a way to able him to be a supervillain. He also has been begging Virgil to give him the power to communicate with animals but Virgil has told him to wait for awhile.

•Problem is, his powers actually make him more prone to falling in love. Magic always takes its toll.

•He’s actually once had 3 relationships in one week before. It was just sad.

•After losing the acting carrier, he became extremely greedy and obsessed with riches. You can imagine why he is a supervillain.

•He started becoming a supervillain around the 2 month mark for his photography job.

•His list of crimes are theft, robbery, shoplifting, arson (again nobody knows where they get the fire), manslaughter, and kidnapping.

•Though with the kidnapping he literally did it to spite the ladies boyfriend. Really nothing happened to her. She sat in a dark room, tied to a chair, having a debate with Roman which Kardashian was the best. Then the police showed up and Roman jumped out a window.

•Romans outfit is the same princely getup as in the series and a white and gold masquerade mask. Also a gold crown that he bought himself. He carries a sword as well to aid in battle but he uses it as an accessory all the same.

•Patton once swapped Romans’ crown for a Burger King crown in the middle of a heist. He didn’t even realize until Patton handed him his original crown like half an hour later.

•There is viral camera footage of this event. Roman is still a bit bitter towards him but secretly finds it funny.

•He has been caught five times (every time he went on a heist with Remus) and has had his secret identity revealed in private by a few cops. They were all killed by Remus before they could tell anyone.

•Technically Roman owes Remus.

•His supervillain name is Prince for obvious reasons. Remus claimed him as his sidekick immediately so that helped the name decision.

•Everyone thinks Remus is Romans sidekick though. Nobody believes Roman is the lesser one here.

Virgil

•Virgil lives in a 3 bedroom, house with Dee and Remus.

•He’s actually been alive since the dark ages.

•Currently he works at a Hot Topic.

•He’s a supervillain because he is actually a serial killer. Virgil loathes this fact though and tries to repress it as much as he can.

•His powers come from a spell book he has. He can do electrical magic and some illusion magic without help from the book but otherwise he has to read it from the pages in combat. Easy to do with cops, hard to do with superhero’s.

•The spellbook however gives the user intense fear for as long as it’s left open. He tries not to use it to much.

•One time however he literally collapsed and had a panic attack while fighting Thomas. Thomas actually stopped fighting and helped Virgil through it though.

•The athoreties showed up with Virgil proped up ageist the wall beside Thomas. He willingly came but wouldn’t allow for his identity to be seen. He was rescued by Logan later on before he had to go to court.

•Virgil has been detained twice, the first time being him beaten down, the second time him willingly going.

•His outfit is a black cloak along with the rest of his body wearing black. He has fingerless gloves too. His face is hidden by a simple black bandana.

•His supervillain name is Shock, in both the electrical way and emotion way. Another one Thomas came up with.

Dee

Well for starters I just found out how to do this easier. Okay anyways resuming.

Deceit goes by Dee or Dec. He refuses to tell anyone his name. If they ask he says something like “Karen” or “Linda”.

He doesn’t have a job for this reason.

Oh and the fact he can’t cover his identity very well so he’s on the run from the law.

He was involved in the same experimentation Logan went through, but was tested for something different.

Long story short: His body ended up going through the extremely painful process of growing scales on his right half of his body, his canines (teeth not dog) grew into poison filled fangs, and his tounge became thin and forked. An unfortunate side effect was him going blind in his right eye.

He was the one who actually got the experiments shut down.

He was treated as a freak of nature and feared. Eventually he developed the mindset that society was a lie and it needed to be torn apart.

So I guess now he wants an anarchy.

He’s also a narcissistic liar so he fits the role of a snake.

His powers are being immune to physical damage on his right side, and having a venomous bite.

He wears the same bowler hat and everything he originally wears. There is no need to change when you can’t conceal your identity.

He’s actually terrified of snakes despite being part one. Unfortunately snakes are attracted to him.

Remus constantly reminds him that snakes can have two d-

He started a few years ago with his whole anarchy thing from Orlando but Thomas quickly put a stop to it.

His list of crimes just... keep going... it’s to extensive but let’s just say genoside is on there.

His supervillain name is Deceit. He made it himself.

Remus

Ho boy the real train wreck.

He’s currently hiding at Virgil’s place along with Dee.

He is not mentally stable enough to have a job. He’s also the most wanted person in America. This guy can’t get a job.

He’s literally chewed his way out of a straight jacket. This mans unhinged.

His powers? Nobody knows where he got them. Probably used Virgil’s spell book.

His powers are teleportation and shapeshifting.

Leads to some interesting interactions.

He has the achievement of being the only person Thomas has genuinely lost his cool with.

Remus doesn’t conceal his identity. His outfit is just his normal duke outfit he wears everywhere.

I mean when the police first showed up on his first heist he was eating a dollar bill and introduced himself as, “Remus, but you can call me Duke.”

He’s frankly terrifying.

He’s committed every crime in the book. Tax evasion to mass homocide.

His villain name is Duke and it is a household name across America.

Somebody get this man under control oh my god.

So there’s the character bios. Here’s some little tad bits of information!

Emile Picani is both Thomas and Virgil’s therapist.

Virgil hasn’t told him about being a supervillain but oh he knows.

Emile very discreetly is trying to get him to be better one step at a time.

All the supervillains logos were designed by the media.

“Curse” And “Mind Bender” are apparently I dinamic duo on the internet?

Patton, Logan, Roman, and Virgil often team up. Their not official team members or anything but just good friends.

The four often try to pull each other out of crime. For example someone will anonymously give Patton some money, keeping Logan calm, ect.

Virgil used to team up with Deceit and Remus all the time but slowly started to pull away due to them being absolutely unhinged.

Fiona and Liam actually are friends with Thomas.

Remus can actually be quite calm around Deceit and Roman. There can’t be anyone else in the room though.

Thomas is very insistent on finding everyone’s identities and helping them out.

Remy actually knows everyone’s identities besides Virgil’s but because the unhinged ones are already known, he doesn’t care.

Virgil and Roman will sometimes come over to Patton’s house to give him a much needed break from being a single parent.

Logan and Dee are actually extremely good friends and have been since the experimentation. Everyone is pretty good friends with everyone but those two are a whole new level of friends. The others are convinced they might have telepathic powers between each other.

Emile and Remy often hang out together and chat about whatever.

Welp there’s that! I’ll probably be writing some stuff for this so stay tuned! Enjoy the rest of your day!

[thinkyoureholy]

Love Shot [2]

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.

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When does a dream stop being a dream? When does a dream become reality?

Pairing : Do Kyungsoo / [Fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Fluff, Smut, Character Death? Detective! AU, Mafia! AU

Words : 2.1k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I stood back with my arms crossed over my chest as I leaned against the wall. I watched him change out of his uniform and into regular clothes, frowning at where he was about to go. It took a few days to implement the plan the chief had thought of but now that it was the day he was supposed to leave I was feeling apprehensive, angry, and unsure of this whole thing. I hated how he kept saying he was easily replaceable when he wasn’t. To me he was irreplaceable, no one would be able to take his place and I hated how he took this so lightly.

He sighed heavily when he noticed the look in my eyes, running his hand through his hair, “Y/N-”

“Nothing you say will make me okay with this.” I said quickly, cutting him off in a cold voice.

“If you’re gonna be pissed at me fine. I don’t regret stepping up, I’ve told you this time and time again. I’m not stepping down. Either I’m the one that goes in or no one does.” He said, his eyes burning with a fire I’ve only seen a handful of times.

I said nothing as I let my hands fall to my sides, averting my gaze and giving my back to him, “Hurry up. Everyone’s waiting outside. Chief said Niko and Juzo will be the ones to take you as close to their place as possible. They’re the ones in charge of this one.”

I began walking towards the door but stopped when I heard his voice call out to me. His voice was soft, barely above a whisper but it was enough to have me freeze in my spot. The sound of his voice tugged at my heartstrings, his next words making me frown.

“So you’re just gonna go like that, huh? No goodbye, nothing?”

I clenched my hands into fists at my side, closing my eyes for a brief moment, “I’m not saying goodbye. Goodbyes are too final and I-” I cut myself off as I felt my emotions beginning to take hold of me, “I don’t want to say goodbye, not to you.”

Not even ten seconds later I felt his hand grab a hold of my wrist, turning me around to face him and wrapping his arms around me. I kept my hands at my sides for a few seconds before giving in and wrapping my arms around him tightly. I didn’t want to touch him because I knew once I did I’d never want to let him go. I’ve been keeping my distance these last few days but now that he was in my embrace I just held on tighter and tighter, not wanting to let him walk out that door. He wouldn’t be able to come home until this whole thing was over, only being able to rendezvous with us every few days for an hour max.

“Then at least a see you later?”

I let out a small laugh, slapping his back lightly and drawing a chuckle from his lips. He pulled away from the hug to cup my face in both his hands gently, his thumb rubbing my cheek, “I’ll be fine. I’ll come back to you the same way I left...I promise.”

Without wasting another second he sealed the promise he just made with a kiss.

-

Junmyeon grinned at the sight of him, the smirk on his face spreading as he looked around the room. The others gathered around him to greet him, Junmyeon making his way down the stairs slowly as he took in the sight before him. Once at the bottom he called out to the man, Junmyeon’s eyes meeting his. Without hesitation the two embraced warmly, Junmyeon resting his hands on the shoulders of the man that stood in front of him. It had been years since the two were able to stand before each other like this.

“Man did I miss you.” Junmyeon said with a grin, watching a familiar glimmer in the man’s eyes shine through.

“You don’t know how great it feels to be back.” He replied with a grin of his own.

-

I bounced my leg up and down anxiously, trying to focus on the task at hand but my mind kept wandering. My temporary partner looked over at me when the car began to shake.

“Can you stop with that? People are going to think we’re up to something in here.” Chanyeol said, glaring over at me.

I didn’t give him a response but stopped like he asked. I couldn’t get my mind off of Kyungsoo, focusing on the stake out we were doing proved to be difficult. The chief put me on a different case while we waited for Kyungsoo to get back to us with any intel, making Chanyeol my partner for the time being. We were investigating a homicide case, the evidence pointing to the boyfriend but we needed more proof, something more solid to nail him. The prosecutor wanted us to catch him in the act so to speak. He had already been a suspect of two previous murders but the court refused to acknowledge the evidence, saying circumstantial evidence wasn’t enough to convict a man of murder.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate our justice system?”

“Yeah and you serve that justice system.” Chanyeol replied, sounding bored as he stared out the window, “It’s not like we can change it. We might be the best damned detectives this country has ever seen but that’s all we’ll ever be. We’ll never be taken seriously for anything and be told to get back to doing our jobs. This country is all kinds of fucked up...all countries are.”

I sat back as I let his words sink in but I didn’t get to ponder too much over it as we saw the suspect step out onto the street from his apartment building. I could see a grin spread across Chanyeol’s face as he clicked his tongue, the two of us climbing out of the car and following after him. We kept our distance, making sure he didn’t see us. Every time he turned to look over his shoulder Chanyeol and I had to make it seem like we were focused on other things, going back to following him the moment he turned forward again. We had been following him for a good fifteen minutes when a woman walked out of a building and got in his way. By the way he spoke to her we guessed that they knew each other. The longer they spoke the more familiar her face was starting to seem to me. My eyes widened as I cursed under my breath, grabbing onto Chanyeol’s shirt and dragged him with me as I hid behind the wall of a nearby building.

“What the hell is she doing here?” I asked mostly to myself as I pulled out my phone.

“You know her?”

“Its Sooyoung.” I said before addressing the person I was calling, “Jungho check out Kim Minseok’s records. Does he know a Kim Sooyoung?”

“Got it.” Was his only response, the sound of his fingers typing away on his keyboard the only thing I heard for a few seconds before his voice came through, “Nothing. They didn’t go to school together, shared friends or acquaintances, absolutely nothing links these two.”

“Fucking bitch.” I cursed under my breath before saying a quick thanks to Jungho and hanging up.

I leaned over and peeked into the alleyway only to curse once more when I noticed they were gone. Chanyeol took a peek as well, surprised to see them gone, “Where the hell did they go?”

“They’re recruiting.” I said before heading back to the car ,ignoring his question.

……

I pushed open the door to the meeting room; Niko, Juzo, the chief, and Jungho already inside as Chanyeol followed in after me. I didn’t bother with greetings as I walked to the front of the room, pulling over the board and beginning the paste the pictures up onto it.

“They’re recruiting. Or they’ve been gathering members from under our noses this whole time.” I said, pointing over to the picture closest to me and listing them by name, “Byun Baekhyun, Kim Jongdae, Oh Sehun, and now Kim Minseok. They’ve been gathering people, ones we’ve been looking for. Between all of them they’ve committed murder, arson, robbery, and hacked into federal databases. This is why we’ve never caught any of them. Sooyoung is sent out to get these guys and the leader of their group integrates them into the group and helps hide them from us, this is why they’ve become more of a nuisance over time.”

Everyone thought over what I had just said, the concern evident on their faces. It all made sense, why we could never arrest them. Every lead we had on them seemed to disappear and we were never able to get close to them ever again.

“Or they were always apart of their group. Think about it; a murderer, an arsonist, a burglar, and a hacker? Those are all necessary personnel to have when in the mafia. These may have just committed the crimes we know of on their own and the idiots left evidence behind.  Why would the leader risk having them rat him and the others out?” Chanyeol said, grabbing everyone’s attention, “Sooyoung wouldn’t reveal her identity to them so easily unless they already know each other. We only know her identity  because you got lucky enough to get her mask off the last time you were chasing her and the cameras happened to be recording.”

“How many members are in this group?” Jungho asked

“Ten.” Juzo answered immediately before continuing, “There could be more but we’ve only seen ten so far.”

“This is a lot bigger than we thought.” The chief said, with a heavy sigh, “Y/N I’m putting you back on this case, Chanyeol you join them as well. We need all five of you on this.”

With that he left, leaving us on our own. Niko and Juzo immediately began to tell us all they knew but I couldn’t focus. My mind was on Kyungsoo. He was in there, with those types of people all by himself. If he was found out I know they’d kill him no questions asked, but not before they made him suffer before hand. I frowned as I stared down at the table in front of me, zoning out of the conversation entirely.

-

“Did you really think we didn’t know? How much of an idiot do you take me for?” He asked, kicking his leg out.

Kyungsoo let out a groan and curled in on himself as he lay on the ground, blood coming out of his mouth. He coughed violently for a few seconds before spitting the blood onto the floor. He looked up and gave the man a smirk, the man staring down at him in contempt. The man leaned down and grabbed onto Kyungsoo’s collar and lifted off the floor slightly before delivering a swift punch to his face. He punched him over, and over again until his eye had swelled up, his lip busted open and blood flowed out of his nose. Kyungsoo seemed to be having trouble breathing as his breaths started becoming more and more labored. The man above his chuckled at the sight, letting Kyungsoo fall back to the ground as he took a step back. He wore a wicked grin before raising his foot and stomping down onto Kyungsoo's leg. Kyungsoo let out a cry of agony, the snap of his bone breaking echoed off the walls.

-

My eyes flew open as I gasped, sitting up in bed immediately. I looked around in a panic, trying to feel around for Kyungsoo but when I didn't feel him my heart dropped. My breathing sped up as I grabbed my head in my hands, bringing my knees to my chest. The image of him bloodied on the floor with I don't know how many broken bones and injuries refusing to leave my mind. I knew it was just a dream but it seemed so real like it was a memory instead of a simply dream. I reached over to my nightstand quickly, grabbing my phone and dialing his number. I was halfway through dialing when I remembered he left his personal phone behind, seeing it laying on the nightstand. I couldn't stop the tears from escaping as I thought back to the dream, my heart constricting in my chest as not being able to hear his voice, to know that he was okay.

“Please...please be okay.”

[ohmytheon]

Spellbound (3/9)

summary: Detective Uraraka is just trying to do her job and navigate her feelings for one very prickly werewolf, but in a world where myths are real, anything can happen. When she’s targeted by the serial killer that she and her elven partner, Midoriya, are trying to stop, it’s going to take a bit of magic to save the day.

notes: Despite some serious topics in this chapter, it's kind of silly. You know, gotta have some fluff to balance out the angst. Also catch me diving into this world more. I had a bomb ass discussion about it on the Kacchako Discord, which was super exciting. But yeah, in between this so-called mystery (it's...not...), I'm just here to build some delicious tension between our two mains. Poor Deku. He's out here seeing and knowing all this shit, but his partner and friend/rival are oblivious. He's such a trooper.

DAY 2: FALL

Seeing as how her apartment was literally burnt toast, Uraraka spent most of the next two days at work, but she slept at Bakugou’s. The one bright side of this whole mess was that Deku’s place hadn’t been torched, which they figured meant that Uraraka was the one targeted. To be honest, Uraraka didn’t think Bakugou believed that. He was so suspicious about everything - to the point where he walked her to the police transportation stations and also did perimeter checks around his place. She knew he wanted her to be safe, but he didn’t have to do so much. She’d offered to sleep at the department only once. He had reacted so poorly that she hadn’t brought it up again.

His pride was so fickle at times, not that she’d never brought it up. The one time she had a few months after she had first met him, he’d acted like his brain had short-circuited and he hadn’t talked to her for weeks. She still wasn’t sure if she had offended him or his pride had been too damaged to confront her.

“How’s staying with Kacchan?” Deku asked from behind his computer.

Uraraka narrowed her eyes at the very careful tone Deku used when asking her that question. “It’s fine. He’s more of a neat freak than I expected.”

“Ha, yeah, he’s always been very particular about that,” Deku mused thoughtfully. A frown twitched onto his lips as he typed something into her computer. They’d been trying to connect any past crimes with the ones they’d been dealing with. A few had matched, but the dates were troublesome. “Werewolves are known to be messy. I think he’s obsessive about cleanliness simply to discredit the stereotype.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t clean and spray everything right after I leave,” Uraraka grumbled under her breath.

Deku suddenly started to cough, the fit so strong that she sat up in concern, but he waved a dismissive hand at her and managed to choke out, “I’m fine.” After another minute of coughing, he came to a stop, leaning over in his chair to catch his breath. When he sat back up, he held his water bottle up. “Water went down the wrong way.”

“Mmhm.” Uraraka eyed him suspiciously but didn’t argue with him. That coughing fit came at a very auspicious time. His cheeks were probably red from the physical exertion, but it looked like he was blushing as he leaned forward and focused very intensely on whatever was on his laptop screen.

The rest of the day crept by slowly. More often than not, they were like this, which made the investigation all the more frustrating. Aizawa kept a line open with the fire department so any information about the arson case could get passed onto her, but even that had been at a standstill. It had been done with magic, but they already knew that. She had a suspicion that they knew more than they were telling Aizawa, but neither one of them could be certain. There had been something off about that fire, just as there was something wrong about the murders she and Deku had been looking into for months.

Both had been made to look like one thing, but were something else entirely. The murders were framed to look like a werewolf had committed them when they knew that they weren’t. All the spells Uraraka had cast over the crime scenes had pointed at an elf, which was making everyone nervous, especially the bigwigs. The fire had been made to look like a magic spell gone awry, but there had been something familiar about them that she struggled to place, like she’d seen it before. She didn’t mess with fire spells that often for the reasons that they were volatile and had a habit of turning on the caster if not particularly skilled.

With no new information pouring in - no tips, no clues, nothing - there was very little that she or Deku could do but wait until something else happened or they made another connection. Deku was pretty good at piecing together puzzles, especially when combined with her magic, but even he was hitting a wall. Both of them knew the clock was running down though and it made them anxious. Like it or not, in two days, if they hadn’t magically caught the culprit, another murder would happen the night of the full moon.

She hoped Bakugou was okay. The tension about werewolves had grown in the city when the fact about the dates had been leaked to the press. Aizawa was still furious over that. He ran a tight ship. She could still remember the harsh reaming that he had given everyone in the bullpen. He’d been so mad that he looked ready to go rabid and tear someone to bits with his bare hands. He hadn’t, but the image hadn’t been a pleasant one.

With their shift over and nothing to be done, Deku sighed and slumped in his chair. “I need to do something different tomorrow. I can’t just sit here and wait for the next murder to drop in our laps.”

“Or deal with the tip line any longer,” Uraraka grumbled. Tip lines were helpful, but they could be a remarkable waste of time too. Even though both Aizawa and Deku had made statements to newspapers that the murders were not being committed by a werewolf, people still kept calling in to make accusations on their werewolf neighbors or the one that worked at a butcher shop and the like.

Deku smiled sheepishly. “I set mine up so they have to go through an automated machine first. If they’re calling about a werewolf in regards to the case, they’re to hang up.”

Uraraka snorted. “That’s so petty.”

“I had someone from evidence tell me that I shouldn’t let Kacchan near you,” Deku said, rolling his eyes. That did surprise her. She had kind of hoped that the same prejudice against werewolves didn’t extend to the force, seeing as how they had a few on it, but apparently there could still be hypocrites as cops all the same. It was disappointing. “As if I can control you or tell you who should or shouldn’t be around.”

“Bakugou wouldn’t hurt me,” Uraraka insisted. She was half in mind to find out who that cop in evidence was and march down there to give them a piece of her mind. Deku would try not to tell her in an attempt to keep things civil, but she’d get it out of him in the end. Likely he had already told them off, but still. What right did anyone have to dictate how she lived her life or who she spent her time with?

Deku shrugged his shoulders. “I know that. Kacchan would lock himself up before hurting you.” When Uraraka gave him a confused look, he hastily added, “I mean, you know, because he hates it when people stereotype werewolves as violent creatures that always give in to their animalistic impulses.”

“He gets into loads of fights,” Uraraka pointed out.

“That’s definitely more his personality than what he is,” Deku said with a laugh. She wasn’t wrong. Both of them had stopped him from getting into fights with people. She had stopped the two of them fighting on more than one occasion. Bakugou was a naturally antagonistic person. She’d never associated that with him being a werewolf. He could’ve been a fairy or a high elf and he would’ve been the same. “Ah, c’mon, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you to Kacchan’s place.”

Uraraka huffed as she got up from her chair. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know that,” Deku replied cheekily as he slid his arms into his jacket. “I also know that Kacchan will rip me a new one if I don’t.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re more afraid of him than me,” Uraraka said as she put hers on.

Deku placed his laptop in his messenger bag and pulled the strap over his head. “That’s exactly it.”

She was going to have to remedy that. Sure, Bakugou was a lot scarier, but she thought that she was pretty tough too. Granted, she knew that she didn’t look scary. On top of those sharp canines and glaring red eyes, Bakugou had built up a fearsome reputation while she… Well, she wasn’t even threatening by witch standards. There was more mystery surrounding witches and their covens outside of the city. Here, she was treated more like an unusual commodity.

It turned out that Deku didn’t actually know where Bakugou lived since he had moved in the past year. Uraraka knew better than to question that. Out of all their mutual friends, Deku had known Bakugou the longest, but they weren’t close like most childhood friends. At first, she had thought that they hated each other - or at least Bakugou hated Deku - but it wasn’t the case. She didn’t know how to describe it. Mutual respect and understanding next to a not-always-friendly rivalry and stubbornness. It was easier to concoct a lust potion than figure out what they were.

“Well, this is it,” Uraraka said, waving at the nice high-rise building.

Deku raised his eyebrows. “Oh, he’s really doing good for himself. I’m proud.”

“What does he do for a living exactly?” Uraraka asked warily. She’d known him for two years and had come to realize since staying with him that she didn’t know, which was weird. Surely she had asked him before. Had he just not told her? When she looked back on it, she realized that he’d evaded the question every time. It couldn’t be that big of a deal. He was a private person, but he also liked to brag. He had a...healthy-sized ego.

“Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that,” Deku replied mysteriously.

Uraraka frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you should ask him,” Deku said with a laugh.

She didn’t know why he couldn’t just tell her now, but she figured that it was because it was Bakugou’s business. What if it was something illegal? No, she didn’t think it was that. It would make Deku uncomfortable. Besides, too many people thought that werewolves were crooks; Bakugou wouldn’t do something that fed into that negative stereotype. Whatever it was, she decided to ask him today.

After telling Deku goodbye and parting ways, Uraraka stepped into the building. The man at the front desk knew to let her in by now and they waved at each other pleasantly. The ride up the elevator was somewhat hypnotic, lulling her into a peaceful mood. This building was much nicer than hers. Well, it was infinitely nicer than hers, considering that her building had been turned into a burnt pile of debris. Still, she couldn’t deny being surprised at how nice this place was. It was expensive. The rent had to be almost double of what hers had been.

At first, Uraraka had thought that Bakugou wasn’t home. She used the spare key that he’d given her to get inside and immediately headed for the bathroom so that she could wash her face.

Only to stumble upon Bakugou coming out of the bathroom half-naked.

The noise that slipped out of Uraraka’s mouth was a half squeal/half scream. She didn’t manage any words as she staggered backward whereas Bakugou shouted, “What the fuck!” She hit the back of the couch and tumbled, falling over it in a very unceremonious manner. Lying upside down on the couch with her feet in the air and her long jacket flung over her face, she felt completely disoriented, but that still couldn’t distract her from the fact that she had seen Bakugou in a state of undress that she’d never seen before.

“Fuck, Uraraka, can’t you fucking knock first?” Bakugou barked furiously.

Uraraka didn’t move except to press her hands over her face so that there were two layers shielding her. She couldn’t remember a time when her face had been so red before in her life. “I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were home.” Her clumsiness had definitely worked against her and she had found herself in quite a few awkward situations, but this had to take the cake.

“Gods, you’re such a clumsy mess,” Bakugou grumbled.

“I’m not that bad…” Pulling her legs over the couch, Uraraka had to awkwardly roll off onto the floor, her coat flipping over her. After shoving it over her head and back in place, she found herself crouched down with her hands on the cushions. All in all, it had been one of her least graceful actions. She was capable of powerful magic of all kinds and even flying to a certain extent, but she flopped backward on the couch because she walked in on Bakugou only wearing a towel.

The redness of her cheeks didn’t have the chance to fade away when she lifted her gaze to land on Bakugou again. He was striding back into the room, shaking his head and he buttoned his black jeans. She thought that his cheeks were a little flushed too, but that could’ve simply been from coming out of a hot shower. It was almost close to the full moon. She knew that he got feverish the morning of sometimes.

She was definitely not staring at his well-defined chest, the muscles taut and strong, or the white scars that littered his otherwise perfect skin. He wasn’t as, well… He wasn’t as hairy as she’d thought he would be, but then the only time she had seen a werewolf without clothes was when they were transformed and not anywhere near human-like. Right now, Bakugou was still very much a man.

A half-naked, muscular, surly, handsome man.

“Are you just gonna hide behind my couch all day?” Bakugou demanded.

“I was thinking about it,” Uraraka shot back even as she stood up and straightened her clothes.

Bakugou eyed her and stepped into his kitchen to rifle through his fridge. “Any news?”

“No,” Uraraka sighed, following him so that she could sit down at his little kitchenette. “I think the fire department knows more than they’re telling us, but there’s not much we can do.”

She shrugged out of her jacket and threw it over the back of the chair. He set a goblet in front of her and poured her a dark red wine that looked like blood. If he had been a vampire, she might’ve questioned it, but contrary to popular belief, werewolves didn’t have a taste for blood unless they were transformed. For himself, he snagged a beer and popped the cap off using his nails. To have that kind of physical strength…

“Sorry again, I should’ve been paying more attention,” Uraraka said, idly swirling her finger around the rim of the glass. “I’ve been so distracted.” Her eyes flickered to his and he held her gaze. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he was tenser than normal. It was easier to read his body language without clothes to hide him, not to mention the way his tail was flicking irritably. “Did you… Do you need me to find somewhere else to stay?”

“Because you walked in on me?” Bakugou questioned.

“No, because…” Uraraka bit her lip. “You know, the full moon is in two nights.”

Bakugou took a long drag of his beer. “You can stay.”

“I don’t want to-”

“It’s not an inconvenience,” Bakugou interrupted her, calmer than she’d anticipated. There was surprisingly no heat in his voice, but there was a firm edge to it that left no room for arguing. “I won’t be here. I go somewhere...safer for transformations - more secluded - outside of the city.”

Uraraka sipped on the wine and frowned. It was delicious, but her mind was elsewhere. “If my place hadn’t turned into a barbeque, I could make some wolfsbane for you.”

“I hate the hangover that comes the morning after,” Bakugou told her. “I always feel foggy for a day or two.”

“Don’t like being docile, do you?” Uraraka teased lightly, trying to force the dark cloud out of her head. If she focused on it, she’d never get out. Better to be proactive.

Bakugou snorted. “I’m a wolf, not a puppy.”

To hell if he wasn’t right about that. At any other moment, Uraraka might’ve teased him about being cute, even reach out to scratch him behind the ears, but the room still felt charged with a strange energy that she couldn’t shake. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he still hadn’t put a damn shirt on. It was cold outside, but the apartment felt uncomfortably warm. Was everything going to go up in flames? If one thing in her life could not be complicated, that would be great.

[technoparadigm-blog]

About.

This represents the Mun’s view of the Muse.

I encourage you to look at his about tag for more in-depth views of his life.

Basics:

Name: Jack Spicer/Ayumu Saito [1]

Nickname: Sayo

Title: “Corporate Daimyo” ; “The Angel of Robotics” ; “The Unrepentant Technophiliac” ; “The Game Changer”

Birthday: November 27th, 1992

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Age: 27 

Gender: Cisgendered Male

Place of Birth: Osaka, Japan

Places Lived Since: Xian, China, but Jack has moved back to his birthplace because of his work.

Family Status:

Birth Parents: Aiko Saito and Shou Saito

Foster Parents: Rebecca and Richard Spicer

Relationship With Them: When he was small, he was put up for adoption by his birth parents under the grounds that they could not afford to take care of him and that they would want him to have a much better life than what they could have given him.

After a bit, he was then adopted by his foster parents who did initially love him, but soon wanted to shape him into something he didn’t want to be as well as making him completely obedient like a trained dog. They were also incredibly racist and basically forced Ayumu to change his name under the grounds he got to pick his own new name.

Circumstances arose which made his foster parents completely disown him, giving him the mansion he used to reside in as a ‘gift’ along with money to keep him quiet. Ayumu went on without anyone to call his family. Since Megan is his cousin from his adoptive family, he considered her disowned as well. [2]

Features:

Height: 5’9

Weight: 110

Build: Slim, with semi-defined muscles.

Nationality: Japanese

Disablities: Osteopenia, borderline osteoporosis.

Complexion: Glowing complexion. His face is devoid of acne.

Face Shape: A mix of pointed and rounded.

Distinguishing Facial Features: Crescent tattoo on the right side of his face and a hook tattoo on the left.

Eye Color: Red

Glasses/Contacts: None.

Style of Dress: Silk red blouse with a black tie, vest, and black pants. Jack donnes his original trenchcoat on occasion, but really for casual stule, all he’ll really wear now is a leather jacket, pants, and some knee length combat boots as well as the previous silk red blouse ensemble. Sometimes, the old trenchcoat is used as one of those jackets that button on the shoulders, like a cape. He’ll weak his fingerless gloves if he’s donning the old trenchcoat and full-fingered gloves if he’s wearing the leather jacket. 

Grooming: Jack showers at least three times per day, looking to keep himself clean and proper.

Jewelry, Tattoos, Piercings: Has a black rose tattoo with thorns on his upper back, towards his right shoulder. Has the kanji “ 弱肉強食”/jaku niku kyō shoku on his left shoulder. Has four ear piercings, two at the bottom and two at the top, as well as a nose-ring.

Accent: Japanese

Physical Habits: Fiddling with his thumbs, tapping his fingers or his foot, whisling, rolling his lips,

Intellect

Level of Education: College level. Has three degrees.

Level of Self-Esteem: High. Previously, it was very low.

Talents: Calligraphy, bunraku (puppetry), ice-skating, singing, art, ballet, clothing design, knife working, dawdles in witchcraft.

Shortcomings: Greedy, vengeful, materialistic, prideful.

Style of Speech: Refined when needed, but mostly casual.

Artistic/Mathematical: Both.

Makes decisions on Emotion Or Logic: Both, but mostly logic.

Life Philosophy: “He who is a criminal through fate and facility unlearns nothing, but learns more and more, and a long abstinence even acts as a tonic to his talent.” -F. Nietzche

Religious Stance: Lokean (Worships the Norse God Loki) as well as adapting beliefs from his own culture. [3]

Cautious/Daring: Very daring, cautious when needed.

Extrovert/Introvert: Both.

Level of Comfort With Technology: Very comfortable. This is after all, his domain.

Relationships

Relationship Status: None [4]

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Panromantic.

Past Relationships: None. [5]

Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: N/A. [6]

Primary Reason For Breaking Up With People: N/A [6]

Level of Sexual Experience: Very experienced, especially in BDSM.

Story of Loss of Virginity: N/A [7]

Most Comfortable Around Who: Depends on the situation.

Oldest Friend: Katnappe is his oldest friend. Growing up, Jack didn’t make a lot of friends as he was constantly ridiculed. After Jack gave Wuya the boot, she basically acts like his partner-in-crime but he really doesn’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to. They chat like old friends and he’s helped her out when she needs it.

How Do They Think Others Perceive Them: Jack has been criticized by the media of his looks and the methods he chooses, as well as the criticism he gets on a daily basis from the Xiaolin and Heylin belligerents for his inability to fight for long periods of time. This has not changed and it is how Jack is still perceived. However, this can change depending on the situation and the muse.

Vocation

Profession: CEO of Spicer-Saito Tech, Heylin Belligerent.

Passions: Robotics, Technology, the arts.

Attitude Towards Current Job: He loves being a dominant force in business, as well as loving his other passions in art. To be recognized as someone significant will always be his priority.

Salary: Worth trillions. Others marvel to be a man like Jack Spicer.

Secrets:

Life Goals: He wants to be the dominant form of all business and rule it as it’s ‘god’. The first person he wants the world to think of when it comes to business is ‘Jack Spicer’.

Dreams: To get rid of all those that have hurt him, to make those that have made him suffer do exactly the same.

Greatest Fears: Dying before accomplishing his goals. Dying a meaningless death.

Most Ashamed Of: Not seeing why his foster parents wanted to change his name, not allowing himself to reach his full potential when fighting the monks.

Compulsions: Often has violent intrusive thoughts.  His face will often look as if he’s smelling something repulsive if he is thinking about them. This of course does not mean he will act out on them, as he has not ever done so.

Obsessions: Gaining knowledge, the arts, his riches.

Secret Skills: Genetics and gene modification, as well as mutations.

Crimes Committed: Murder, theft, torture, arson, blackmail, kidnapping, smuggling (rare), white collar crime, falsifying signatures.

What They Most Want to Change About Their Current Life: He wants a companion—one that will accept his vices and even join him in them. He especially wants to see Chase Young fall by his own hands. There isn’t anything he wants more than that.

What Do They Most Want To Change About Their Physical Appearance: He wants to look more like his race.

Details:

Daily Routine: Jack usually wakes up early due to his work. Before he got engaged in his business, he would wake up very late in the afternoon and stay up all night, rinse and repeat. Now, since Jack wakes up early, his morning routine consists of taking a shower, doing his hair and making sure he looks his best. This can take about two hours. Now he’s out of the door and off to his Office. He gets the rundown from Sora, his secretary on what needs to be done. He stays there taking calls and talking with potential partners until his office closes, then he’s off back home to rest and get some extra work in. Jack has Friday, Saturday and Sunday off which allows him to do extracurricular things and rest.

Night Owl or Early Bird: Early bird.

Light or Heavy Sleeper: Light sleeper. He has to sleep light so he can wake up instantly in case of an intruder and in case anyone tries to harm him.

Favorite Food: Anything with matcha in it.. All kinds of sweets, but pudding is his favorite. He also likes to eat a lot of meat and rice.

Least Favorite Food: Meat with fat on it, anything too spicy.

Favorite Movies: Horrors and thrillers.

Least Favorite Movies: None.

Favorite Music: If you can’t hear the music from his headphones, it’s not loud enough. He likes heavy metal, rock, and anything that is similar to these genres. He also likes K-Pop and J-Pop.

Least Favorite Music: None.

Coffee or Tea: Tea.

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter: None. Jack hates peanut butter.

Lefty or Righty: Righty.

Favorite Color: Red, black, white, purple.

Cusser: Very much so.

Smoker/Drinker/Drug User: Minorly drinks. Never smokes or does drugs.

Biggest Regret: Allowing himself to be weak when he is not.

Pets: Three cats, and one German Shepard. He has a floor dedicated to his pets in his mansion, but always takes them out and treats them well.

Other Notes:

- Jack’s hair is curled. It is no longer spiked as it usually is, and reaches his shoulders, in some cases longer. Sometimes, his hair may cover his left eye, but only slightly (like, you can still see his eye, it’s not completely covered.

- If he cuts his hands while working or damages them worse than a cut, he’ll wear full fingered black leather gloves.

-When he sets his mind to it, Jack can actually be a great tactician and think of fool-proof plans. When he rushes into things, it is then he messes up.

-Jack really doesn’t mind his albinism. He would rather stay indoors and away from everyone, but in a logical sense, cannot stay indoors all of the time.

-Both Introverted and Extraverted.

-Jack can have severe panic attacks and sometimes hurt himself if he doesn’t calm down.

-He’s great with a couple of knives and has his own collection of them. He eventually got those knife throwing lessons on top of the ice-skating ones.

-Overly sexual and flirtatious. Nothing else to it.

-Deeply philosophical.

-He has modified his helipack to where two propellers now stick out from the bottom, so now there is both propellers on the top and bottom. When he needs to, they combine to form wings that further expand his movement. This is how he’s able to reach different parts of the country so quickly and fly to others.

-Jack is a ruthless businessman, having built it on his own without the help of anyone, mainly based on various technologies and newly innovative robotics. He runs it kind of like a monopoly and has had controversy in which he has been accused of doing so, but no one has enough substantial proof. He’s had some run ins with Kimiko’s father, and hates Pandabubba to death.

Notes:

[1] Ayumu:  歩 (Ayu): “Walk” 夢 (Mu): “Dream, vision.”

Saito:  斎 (Sai): “Purification, worship”  藤 (Tou): “Wisteria”

Sayo:  紗 ( 小 combined with  代): “small, generation” or  世 (yo), meaning “world”, so it can essentially mean “small generation” or “small world”.

[2] For the purposes of this blog, Jack has no relation to Megan unless it is in an AU.

[3] I won’t really have Jack get all religious. This is just to give you an idea on what he conforms to.

[4] Without the presence of an AU

[5] Without the presence of an AU

[6] Without the presence of an AU

[7] I don’t have a special story of how Jack lost his virginity. Just know it was purely consensual.

[bi-apps]

Accepted - Rabastan Lestrange

lyinginthemeadowes

submitted:Application for Rabastan Lestrange

OOC Information:

Name/Age/Timezone- Ashley, 25, PST

Activity Level- I’m sorry - I know I sucked this week, but on average my activity is about a 6 out of 10.

Ships/Anti-Ships- Angst and chemistry.

Did you read the rules? Yes, I did! :)

IC Information:

Character Name- Rabastan Amir Lestrange

Age/Birthdate- 24; June 30, 1954.

Faceclaim-

1. Gaspard Ulliel 2. Chris Wood 3. Tom Sturridge 4. Theo James

Occupation- He claims he is “self-employed,” but in actuality he is more of a socialite.

Blood Status- Pureblooded, Sacred 28.

Traits-

(+) Resourceful (+) Ambitious (+) Dynamic

(-) Resentful (-) Calculating (-) Vindictive

Patronus- Rabastan’s patronus is a hawk primarily due to his attention to detail and strive to achieve perfectionism in all of his crafts. Also very much like the hawk, he shows keen intelligence and does not like to be trapped or limited by any barriers.

Boggart- His brother’s dead and mangled body. After all, Rodolphus is the one person on this planet he truly loves and would be beside himself without despite all other grievances.

Key Points-

One constant in Rabastan’s life is his relentless desire to please those closest to him. He often wondered how different his life would have looked if he had been the firstborn child. Instead, Rabastan Amir Lestrange grew up and discovered quite bitterly that he was a few years too late to being the coveted child and rightful heir. It wasn’t as if Rabastan was ever neglected. The Lestrange Family was well off—they always took care of their own. There was, however, an emotional element missing. It was hard watching his brother receive praise after praise from his parents as children while Rabastan rotated through new nannies at alarming rates. The boy stirred up trouble at every viable opportunity, scheming for familial attention and then breaking down when the result was anything but expected. Rabastan watched from afar as his parents groomed Rodolphus with certain assurances and promises about the greatness he was destined for and what he stood to inherit. It triggered Rabastan to feel so much contempt for an individual he relied on with his utmost being and yet he continually wanted to find new ways to impress Rodolphus. He could not resist somehow being in his orbit, which made it difficult the first few years they were apart.

Being at home without his brother proved to be both mundane and meaningless. While he didn’t have anyone to bump heads with, he also didn’t have the same competition that drove him forward. Rabastan felt stagnant until finally starting Hogwarts. The young wizard approached the new experience with an open mindset. He knew the world was full of possibilities for him and he was looking forward to getting a fresh start away from the prying eyes of relatives. However after being sorted into Slytherin, Rabastan learned this new segment of his life wouldn’t be all he amped it up to be in his mind. Rodolphus was already well-known; not just amongst members of their shared house, but the entire school. Rabastan felt much smaller than he was during those initial years. He feared he might be stuck living in his brother’s shadow for the rest of his life if he couldn’t find a way to break through the barrier.

Upon graduating from Hogwarts, Rabastan immediately knew he didn’t want to work a standard job or live a mundane life. At the expense of his family, he had more than enough means to figure things out on his own—so that’s exactly what he did. At eighteen years old, Rabastan briefly explored various portions of the world including Venice, Italy and continental portions of Europe where the art of gambling was originally founded. He was no stranger to the craft, but decided to take the time to expand his knowledge base on the subject which he would later use to his advantage. The wizard knew he had a special talent when it came to arithmancy, which he twisted to his advantage. He learned to count cards when it was applicable, and even discovered sequences that proved useful when placing bets on sporting events such as quidditch.

Gambling became one of Rabastan’s prime interests—he centered his entire life around it. He typically garnered success executing his carefully laid out tactics and strange methodologies, but not always. The wizard was known for going off on the occasional binder. At twenty-one, his family briefly cut him off from his trust fund in order to do damage control. He had gone nearly seven days without sleeping—fueled by a mixture of alcohol and questionable potions, it was apparent he wasn’t in his right mind. He gambled away more than a quarter of his inheritance over that time period—it was a hefty sum of money and, though he later made it back by completing an astute collection of ambiguous and borderline illegal tasks, it wasn’t his proudest moment. The wizard then went on to turn his momentary lapse of judgment into a sleazy, yet wildly successful and ingenious part-time business. For the right price he would be willing to commit certain crimes like arson or larceny, always laced with his own creative twist.

Ensuring his identity is well-guarded, the wizard wears a dark cloak and hides his face beneath shadows and concealment charms. Though Rabastan doesn’t remember the exact moment everything spiraled out of control, this alter ego has provided him with the exact sense of individuality he has been searching for all his life. For once, he feels he has stepped out of his brother’s shadow and achieved something entirely on his own—only the painstaking irony is everything he does is still done in the shadows. When the notorious ( and completely self-dubbed ) pyromaniac Napalm isn’t slumming the streets of Knockturn Alley looking for new business, the socialite Rabastan Lestrange is usually busy keeping up appearances within the community. The Lestrange Family plays a prominent role in the financial backbone of the wizarding community by often donating large sums of money to those they support and, though he isn’t the first-born son he wishes he was, Rabastan has learned the hard way that it is best if he doesn’t dishonor the Lestrange Family name again.  

Changes/Extra Info- N/A

Para Sample- I just want to apologize in advance for this. Rabastan is A LOT to deal with sometimes.

(tw: death, tw: murder, tw: abuse)

Golden embers whipped and whistled in the taunting summer breeze as Rabastan admired the blue-eyed girl running across the hillside. The girl, though no older than twelve or thirteen, was an exquisite work of art etched onto a living canvas of flesh with an apprehensive and narrowed bone structure. Nearing fourteen at the time, Rabastan reckoned it was the closest he ever felt to love, as he had a chance encounter with what life might have looked like had a different path divulged. However he would never confess to these sinful desires in early adolescence. The muggle was an abomination to his livelihood and he had been groomed of such assurances upon every available opportunity, until one day he snapped altogether, damning the reflection of an angel to wither and derail her days away in hell right beside him.

The sun beat down, scorching against the nape of his neck as he sauntered out from the canopy of oversized trees. Like an enemy on the prowl, Rabastan lurked in the shadows while watching the girl play with restless and hungry eyes. Her freckle-covered legs were lost beneath tall and wispy blades of grass, which he noted was long overdue for a trim. The wizard assumed that’s why she entertained herself there day after day, basking in the comfort the cool grass provided during these blistering hot summer days. Minutes passed until the fair angel took notice of him. She bore an innocent, yet totally despicable look in her crystal skeleton eyes, which made him eager to sink his teeth into her flesh as he glided his tongue across the surface of smooth lips. Seeded by his family’s blatant hatred, Rabastan perceived the sole way to silence his arbitrary desire would be something concrete; something both finite and fatal. The angel welcomed him with opened arms; it was the first and only time a slaughter would come to pass so easily.

As he meandered over, Rabastan’s growing-silhouette darkened the rays of sunlight that danced through her bouncing head of curls. The angel—laughing and smiling without a care in the world— continued to wave up at him, shielding a single eye from the stray sunshine that reflected in her oceanic eyes. She called his name and he cringed; he was lost in thought—maybe even perplexed—wondering if he could go through with the daunting task plaguing his doubtful mind. He knew how easy he could coax himself into action when equipped with his wand, but using magic outside of school was strictly forbidden. “Besides,” a little voice echoed off in his head,  “your first kill should be done with your hands. You need to remember the first time living flesh stops pulsating in your bare hands.”

“Do you want to play a game?” Rabastan asked the younger girl who quickly dropped her doll and rose to her feet. “What game?” She nodded vigorously as her mute blue eyes widened with intensity. “Hide-and-Seek,” he breathed, exhaling raspy breath as he shoveled his hands into his pockets. The girl boiled with excitement at the thought—a cute older boy was inviting her to play a game, what could possibly go wrong? It was evident she hadn’t the faintest idea what was in store for her as they traversed across the weed-choked terrain and back toward the trees where he first emerged. “How about you count and I will hide first?” The smirk on his face was perceived as nothing more than a harmless smile and the angel quickly agreed without protest. She adjusted herself at the trunk of a large oak tree, which she used to blacken out her eyes as she recited a string of muffled numbers out loud.

“Ready or not, here I come!” She called out and Rabastan noted her voice was more celestial sounding than ever. It would be the last time he ever heard it. She turned around and quickly became disorientated when she discovered he was already towering above her. She didn’t have time to react because he didn’t hesitate. He forced her to the ground and, though she struggled, he successfully pinned her down with the full weight of his body. Rabastan was weaker then, however compared to the sheltered and fucking pitiful muggle seizing in his grip, he was a lethal weapon wired to kill by nature. She struggled beneath him, flailing various body parts in an attempt to free herself from the chains of his fatal touch. With adrenaline pumping and instincts thriving like never before, he balled his hand into a fist and fired his best weapon at her.

Blood instantly trickled from her nose and stained Rabastan’s hands before conjoining them around her neck. It was a seemingly perfect fit and he quickly became high off the idealism that this very moment—his desire leading to indispensable action—was somehow part of a greater destiny. He tightened his restraint around her, slowly sending her deeper into the fate which he controlled. Rabastan’s subconscious desire was to revert his gaze anywhere but her own, however he would not let himself forget this special day. As she heeded consciousness for the last time in her short and disgusting life, he stared down into her blinding crystal blue spheres. They were more reprimanding now than ever, however as she lost the final stages of alertness, Rabastan too lost something; his perception transpired and whatever feeling he had disintegrated. As he choked the last breath from her body, she suddenly became the dirt she was always intended to. A fallen angel who went to sleep on earth woke up in hell because on that day Rabastan Lestrange chose to make earth his own hell.