#it’s probably a mouse but the point stands

[poitcast]

Here's some canonical evidence as to why Pinky and The Brain deserve to rule the world.

In A Pinky and The Brain Christmas and Brain's Night Off, Brain is a vocal supporter of worker's rights. "Is that the way you treat your valued employees? No wonder you can't find good service anymore, if every time a clerk tries to help a customer she gets yelled at! [Turns to the toy store employees] You people shouldn't have to put up with this. You ought to organize! Form a union! Stand up to your boss!" (Brain's Night Off)

Branching off from that, the whole point of Brain's Night Off is that Brain decides to spend an evening not trying to take over the world and ends up standing up to several injustices when he and Pinky were supposed to have fun. But unbeknownst to Brain, the people admire him for standing up for what's right and they rally behind him being their leader.

Brain has stated in multiple episodes and in Wakko's Wish that he wants to rule the world because he wants to make the world a better place for the little guy. In Megalomaniacs Anonymous, Brain tries to give up world domination for his own sake, but after he sees Pinky get assaulted by some jerks, he declares "If I ruled the world, people wouldn't step all over the little guy!"

In A Pinky and The Brain Christmas, Pinky states in his letter to Santa that Brain "only wants what's best for the world". Moments later, Brain does have control over the world for a moment, but he commands the hypnotic masses to have a Merry Christmas and spreads joy to the world.

In The Pink Candidate, Pinky is elected president and he manages to be a surprisingly competent leader. He loves completing his tasks, which include stopping wars. When Brain tries to use Pinky's position to enact his world domination plan, Pinky refuses to do so because it would go against everything he came to stand for (since Brain taught him the principles of democracy during the campaign). When Brain's past plans are exposed, Pinky takes full accountability for everything that goes on in his administration and admits to the Senate that it was his fault, and Ted Kennedy praises Pinky's courage and honesty (before he impeaches him from office).

In the Freakazoid episode, Freakazoid is History, Freakazoid ends up changing the course of history and finds that the world has become a better place. At the end of the episode, it's revealed that The Brain is the president.

In It's Only a Paper World, the mice build a 1:1 replica of Earth out of papier-mache, complete with biodiversity and architecture, and lure everyone to Chia Earth with free T-shirts, resulting in everyone becoming much happier. The mice also inadvertently save the global populace when a meteor hits the actual Earth.

In The Brainwashed Trilogy, the mice save the world from a nefarious scheme that dumbed down humanity.

Overall, Brain has an ego, but he truly does want to improve the world and Pinky is a kind and honest mouse and together they'd probably bring about world peace.

Are Pinky and the Brain still trying to take over the world? Because at this point, I'm willing to hear the Brain's platform.

[yapperblog]

Part 2 of cafe worker!Joost x fem!reader

Part 1

Tags: smut, making out, semi-public, handjob, blowjob.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You feel nervous walking down the same path you always take. Why are you nervous? There was usually a feeling of excitement to unwind, to see the sexy Internet Cafe employee – stifling your giggles who will he scold for breathing too loud this time. But now your palms are sweaty the closer you get to that familiar door.

After your first hookup with Joost, you haven't talked much. You got busy with work, and when you were able to visit the Internet Cafe, he seemed to be busier than usual, new customers keep flooding in. You would catch him for a couple of minutes of casual conversation by his desk, like he hasn't rearranged your guts in this same place. He would also come up to you ask about your day, the first time he did it, it made you blush furiously not having expected it from him. Other than that, you were short with each other and the timing wasn't right. Plus it has been almost a week since your last visit, probably the longest you haven't been in that place. So, all those thoughts piled on top of each other, you were feeling extra anxious to see him.

Today however you were determined to have a proper conversation. You are down to keep it casual, if he doesn't want anything serious, but you need clarity – it has been driving you crazy not knowing what he thinks about that night, does he regret it, does he want anything more?

Once again, you open the door, familiar sounds and smell greeting you, as well as a pair of blue eyes lingering in your direction. Joost smiles at you, as you come over to his desk.

"Hi you." he says, still smiling.

"Hi." It throws you off how cheerful he is, the usual scowl nowhere to be found.

"Haven't seen you in a while." his attention is still fully on you, on a normal fay by that time he was already back to typing on the computer. "Thought you went to the competitors. Maybe some other Internet Cafe has opened up." he tries to joke.

You stare at him silently and burst out laughing, the previous tension and anxiety simmering down. Maybe he is in the same mood to figure things out between you finally.

"I wouldn't dare." you lean in closer over the desk.

"That's right." he doesn't look away, matching your eye contact.

You reach for your purse to get the cash for the computer, but he stops you. "It's on the house today. Loyal customer and all that."

You look shocked at him, "You don't have to do that, but thank you." you mumble, a blush creeping up your cheeks again. He seems really happy to see you again. "All I had to do was the bang the employee? Should have done that sooner." you whisper to him making sure it is only for his ears.

"Shut up." he barks a laugh. "First computer on the second row is yours." he points in the direction of it.

"Wait, how does she get to use it for free?" a customer who just walked in behind you asks.

"None of your business." Joost is back to his usual demeanour, his eyes a reflection of being bored of the customer. "How can I help you?" he asks the guy.

You have finished the most important work you needed to do, looking up at the clock, you notice it is past midnight already, most of the customers went home, there is only you, Joost and a couple sharing a computer on the opposite side.

"Sir?" you call out in Joost's direction. "There is something wrong with this computer, can you check?"

His head immediately turns in your direction. "Um, sure." he walks up to you.

You point at the error which popped up. You know how to fix it yourself, and from the look he gives you, you are sure he knows that too. But plays along, catching up to your game. "Yes, let me check." he moves from standing next to you to reaching over behind you for the mouse and keyboard. His hand is covering the mouse over your hand, his skin feels starching hot on yours. His breath close to your ear, your stomach tightens over the simple close proximity to him.

"You are so good at this." you tell him, your voice innocent.

"Am I?"

"Yeah." you turn to face him, but he already fixed it and straightens up, leaving you so lonely.

"Thank you." your voice is quiet.

You finish the rest of your work and notice the couple has left. After waiting a couple more minutes to check if no one else comes in, you stand up and head towards Joost's desk. He is busy typing away, you linger next to him, when he finally looks up.

"Can we talk?" you ask tentatively.

He looks around the room, noticing it's just you left.

"Sure." he gives you his full attention now. "What happened?"

"Well. Nothing really, but that is the problem." you say not looking at him yet, mindlessly moving the things around at the top of his desk. "I know we don't each other yet, maybe the hookup meant nothing to you." you continue, he tries to interrupt, but you motion for him to wait. "But I would like to get to know you, move things forward. I do care about you more than just random sex, but I can't tell if you feel the same about me. You are kind of hard to read." you finally look up at him. He is looking at you intently, listening carefully to your confession.

The silence falls heavily between you, it weighs on you. Did you read this situation completely wrong, does have want nothing to do with you, before you can spiral any further, you hear his voice. "I also want to get to know you. Sorry if I left you in the unknown, I didn't mean that. I also didn't know if you want anything more. I was also so busy here, I am sorry." he says. "When you didn't come on your usual day, your usual hours-"

"You notice when I usually come here?"

"Ofcourse." he meets your eyes.

"I would love to ask you out on a date." he confesses. "Would- Would you go on a date with me?" he is also nervous, like you. It makes your heart melt.

"Yes."

Joost's gaze softened, his eyes roaming over your face with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. You walk around the desk, his eyes following your every move, he starts to stand up, but you push on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. You stand in between his legs and reach out to fix his hair, brushing the fallen out of place strands. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, he works so much. Your hand slips lower, tracing his cheekbone, his skin warm under your palm. He nuzzles closer to you, his eyes darken, not used to such tender touches, but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.

"Is this okay?" you ask him. So careful, the time feels like it has slowed down between you two. A contrast between how the first time went. "Yes."

You move to sit on his lap, he lets you, wrapping his hand around your waist, settling you in more comfortable, as he shifts under you.

"I really thought I might never see you again." he confesses, his voice barely audible, but you hear him.

Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you hold his gaze. “Kiss me, Joost,” you whisper, your voice a soft, desperate invitation.

Without another word, he closes the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There is no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveys every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss is soft and careful, full of warmth, he is tentative, but you lead him, showing you want him as much.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both share a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fuels the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.

This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, the Joost who likes to take control shining again. His hands grab your waist even harder, pulling you closer, his fingers splaying against your back. The gentle intimacy turns heated, your mouths exploring, you open your mouth, letting his tongue tease yours. You can feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, he groans against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try to pull away, but he chases you leaning in, not ready to separate yet, "Come here" his voice is low, breathless too, as he catches your lips in a kiss again. His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roam over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sends shivers down your spine, like it's the first time being alone in this room again. However this time you are sure he wants you as much as you want him. You gasp against his mouth, a sound that turns into a soft moan, each sound coming from you pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring, tasting. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.

Joost shifts under you, and you feel his hardness pressing against you, undeniable. Your lips begin to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You can feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you move lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Paying extra attention to the Lola Bunny tattoo on his neck, you hope to become friends with her and see her more often.

Each kiss seems to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leans into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. You find it intoxicating, the sound you are able to pull from him. You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest. His pulse beats beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallows hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.

"You are driving me crazy." he says, as you continue to kiss along his sensitive spot.

"You look so good like this." your words go straight to his dick. "I can't believe I finally get to have you like this."

"Fuck, baby. Don't say shit like this, I might just cum in my pants." he confesses tilting his head back, giving you even more access, closing his eyes, clearly enjoying your actions.

"Maybe I would like that." you let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness.

"What? Me cuming my pants?" his opens his eyes to look at you. You look up at him grinning, your hand finally reaches the waistband of his boxers, and you press your palm against him. "You are evil."

"You don't like that?" you remove your hand from him.

"Nonono." he repeats, putting your hand back right where it was. "I do." his breath hitches, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushes into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.

"I am enjoying myself too." you murmur, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Joost. I wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admit, voice a mix of admiration and desire.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he looses himself in every touch, every word you murmur against him. "More, please." he pleads, looking in the direction of the door. The cafe is still open to the public. It has been a quieter night than usual, but there is still a possibility someone might stumble in, but he is ready for the gamble, knowing you are too.

"God… that feels so good,” he gasps, as he looks, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roam up and down your back, and you can feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grows heavier. "You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses a kiss to your temple, his words urge you to move your hand around his cock faster, encouraging every word. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he speaks, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.

"Seeing that guy ask you out,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He pauses, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”

Hearing him say it out loud, the desire intertwined in every syllable, makes your head spin. Feeling he is fully hard under you now, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, his mouth falling open slightly at the realisation what you are doing for him. You maintain eye contact with him, as you feel the carpet dig into your knees, but you don't care, not when he looks at you like this.

"Fuck... you don't have to." he says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I want to." you say, and reach for his belt. "Do you want to?"

"Yes." he says it way too quick and it makes you giggle. He helps you undo the belt, lifting his hips to take off his pants.

You palm him through his underwear again, enjoying the delicious moan from him. You motion for him to take them off and he does. "Good boy." you purr and you swear you can see an actual sparkle in his eyes. Who would have thought the mean Internet Cafe employee, who everyone is so scared of, would be melting under your palm at a few words of praise. His cock jumps free from the confines of his boxers, but you don't give it the attention it craves so much. Not yet. Your hands drift up, playing with the hem of his shirt, your nails grazing his stomach lightly, sending a wave of heat coursing through his veins. A sharp exhale escapes him before he can stop it, his muscles tensing under your touch.

After feeling that you've teased him enough, you take his dick in your hands, the tip an angry shade of red, pre-cum spilling from the anticipation. Mixing it with your spit, you start to stroke him. You pay attention to alternating in pressure, swiping your thumb over his tip every time you passed it. Then you nuzzle against it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the side, your warm breath sending another shudder through him. You are savoring every inch before you begin. Only then your lips part, and you finally take him in. The first flick of your tongue sends a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine. He has to grip the desk, not to push his hips. Your lips wrap around him, slow and firm, dragging along his length with precision.

"Feels so good." he borderline whines looking down at you. "Keep going please." his hands find the back of your head, not pushing, just wanting to feel you.

Your tongue glides firmly along the underside, tracing every vein, your movements deliberate as you circle the tip before taking him in your mouth again, your lips stretching around his girth. The lewd sound of your lips smacking around you loud in the empty room, making his stomach tighten. You look up at him innocently, as you take more and more of him, your warm and wet mouth mixed with the view makes him almost lose his mind and cum on the spot. He has to lean his head back and concentrate not to end it too soon.

You are however relentless—taking him deeper each time, your spit slicking every inch of him. You bob your head with a slow, steady rhythm, a mix of suction and slippery, messy tongue work that makes his breath stutter.

Suddenly there is a noise of a door opening. His hand on your head gripping your hair, motioning for you to stop. You do, still with his cock in your mouth, you feel him sit up straighter, fixing his hair. There are footsteps coming closer, but luckily they can't see you from your position under the desk.

"Hello, can I print out a few things? Is there a working printer?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

Joost clears his throat. "Hello, yes. It's over there. How many copies?" his voice trying to hide the fact that your soft mouth is still wrapped around his length cockwarming him. The customer goes on a long tangent telling a story how the past few places had trouble with printing and he is walking all around town trying to make a copy of a document. Joost hums in approval listening to his story, one of his hands still wrapped tightly on your hair, making sure you don't get an idea of teasing him.

The customer walks over to the printer. "Call if you need any help." Joost tells him. You hope the customer can do it on his own.

As the footsteps grow quieter and further away, Joost releases his hand from your hair. You move away from him as quietly as possible, leaning your head on his thigh. He looks down at you, pressing a finger to his slips motioning for you to stay quiet and you nod.

You can hear the printer beeping and the customer settling in behind the computer. After awhile you start to get bored, as Joost got back to typing on the keyboard, probably pretending to work not to give away what was happening before. You start to press soft kisses along his thigh. He doesn't stop you, so you continue doing it almost with no sound, the buzz of the printer also helping to hide any noise. You get bolder and bite him, although not hard enough to produce the noise that comes out of him – too loud for how light the bite was. You lick over the spot, he looks down at you with raised eyebrows and you smile apologetically.

"Everything ok?" the customer asks.

"Oh. Yeah, all good." Joost replies. His voice shaky. "Just, um, you know, looking at prices. They seem to bite for real nowadays." the customer laughs at that and agrees. The printing noise continues.

You have to cover your mouth not to laugh at him too. After giving him a few minutes to recover, you continue pressing kisses along his thigh, inching closer to his neglected cock. He stiffens in his seat, but doesn't stop you, so you go further. You ghost your lips over the sensitive skin along his shaft, licking at the tip. His grip tightens over the mouse. You take him in your mouth, building a slow rhythm, not swallowing him too deep to avoid the noise, but enough to tease him. His breathing grows heavier and his big hand finds the back of your head again, his fingers weaving through your hair.

"Fuck. Stop stop." you hear him whisper quietly.

"All done?" you hear Joost say.

"Yep. Thank you so much." the customer replies. "Are you...alright?" he asks tentatively after a pause.

"Yes, I am totally fine. Tired probably. A long shift." he says with no waver in his voice, which makes the guy believe it, not wanting to ask any more questions.

The customer pays and you hear him leave.

"Shit." Joost exhales, his body relaxing. You are also glad he is finally gone. "You little devil." he looks down at you again. He brings you up from under the table and leans down to meet you halfway for a kiss. He groans still tasting himself on your mouth, he tilts your head to deepen the kiss, his cock twitching when you reach out to touch it. You break the kiss, "So sensitive." you whisper against his mouth.

"Get back to work." he leaves one last kiss on your lips and you take your place between his legs. There is a sense of urgency in the air, hoping no one else comes in.

You spit on his tip again, slow and deliberate, watching the saliva trail down before you gather it with your tongue and take him in your mouth once more. You deepen the rhythm, your mouth molding around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck with more urgency, a wet, obscene symphony filling the space beneath the desk. The slick sounds grow louder, more obscene, as spit pools and dribbles from the corners of your mouth, coating his length in a messy sheen.

You take him to the base, your throat clenching around him, a loud moan leaving his lips, before you pull back, eyes fluttering your breath labored. You let another thick strand of spit fall, your fingers smoothing it down as you stroke him with both hands, your grip greedy, insatiable. Then go back in, your nails digging lightly into his thigh, steadying yourself, like you're getting lost in it. You feel yourself get wet, your clit pulsing steadily, listening to his moans, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure, his heavy hand on the back of your head.

"You like it, huh?" he asks, his chest heaving up and down. You hum around him, the vibrations sending an additional wave of pleasure for him. "So pretty on your knees for me." he brushes away a tear, which falls down your cheek.

He presses you down just a little more. "Can I do this?" he asks and you moan in approval, nodding. Your throat tightens as he pushes you deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He keeps you there for a moment, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Fuck.." he exhales and lets go off you.

You wrap your hand around his slick length. Your strokes are slow, loud, your fingers working him with a deliberate pace. Looking up at him from under the desk, you look utterly wrecked—lips swollen and slick, spit trailing down your chin, eyes glassy and dark with hunger. He thinks you look like a dream, he is already planning the date in the back of his head, he wants to wake up next to you, he even imagines growing old with you, which he never did before. You pant softly, your breath shaky, as both hands work him with slow, messy strokes, your fingers coated in the evidence of your own devotion.

His thighs tremble as you keep stroking, your grip firm, fingers gliding over his slick length with a slow, almost lazy confidence. His breath is uneven, hot, moans slipping past his lips, same as your own, as if you are lost in the act itself, dazed by the sensation of having him in your hands. Your palm twists just right as you drag it up and down. Your eyes stay locked on his, a smirk on your pretty face. You lick over his tip and wrap your lips around him, sucking, bobbing your head up and down.

His body tenses as your throat tightens around him, your free hand rolling his balls in your palm as you move up and down with an unrelenting pace. Your movements are fast, ruthless, each descent pushing him deeper into your throat. His moans turn breathier, more frantic. Your tongue presses against the underside, rubbing against that sensitive spot as your lips stretch around his girth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, spit dripping from your chin, but you don't stop determined to take him to completion.

His head tips back, mouth falling open in a loud moan as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. Pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, blinding, unstoppable. His muscles go taut, as he cums deep inside you, and you moan around him, swallowing greedily as if you're desperate for every last drop. The thick warmth shoots down your throat, and you take it all effortlessly, your lips sealed tight, sucking him through every wave.

You take your mouth off of him, your own breathing heavy. You leave a few more kisses on his thigh, helping him come back to his senses.

"That was... incredible. You are incredible." he says, pulling you back onto his lap. He takes a tissue from his desk and wipes gently at your lips.

You lay your head on his shoulder, as he puts his pants back on and wraps his hands around you. "Can I take you home? My shift ends soon." he asks carefully, nervously.

You lift your head looking up at him. "Yes."

He did take you home and fucked you until you couldn't take his touch anymore, his attention fixated on your pleasure alone. And you kept coming back to his place, months later it becoming a part of you, as much as it is for him. Your lives gradually intertwining more and more, learning how to be the best for each other.

You hear your alarm clock go off, reaching out to turn it off. Joost groans beside you, he only recently came back home after his shift, but it is already time for you to start getting ready for work. You feel his arm wrap tighter around you, his chest pressed tight around your back, as if he could be any closer to you.

"I need to get up, Joost." you try to peal yourself off of him.

"Just 5 more minutes, please." he feels like he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. He always feels so cold without you in his bed. He can't even remember how his life was without you in it. Your warmth seems to have fix everything.

He nuzzles closer to you, burying his head into your neck. You turn in his embrace, kissing him slowly, he immediately reacts and returns the kiss.

"How soon do you have to leave at the latest?" he asks.

"We have like.. 10 minutes max." you say. You really can't be late again. It is always the same with him when it is a night shift for him – he comes back late, you have to leave early. He wants to cuddle for 5 more minutes, which turns into something more, but you don't complain, you can't get enough of him too.

"Perfect." you feel him smile against your neck.

[13eyond13]

why does l say that he wanted light to be kira/ that he wouldn’t be satisfied unless light was kira?

i thought it was an ego thing bc he wants his deductions to be right but is that the only interpretation?

Hi anon! Thanks for the old school "interpretation of Death Note canon" ask, I appreciate you making me dust off my analysis skills. Took a dive back into my blog to see if i could find any posts I'd made about this moment in the past, and reblogged a handful of posts before this just in case anything on there is of interest to you as well.

(Disclaimer that I haven't read/watched Death Note in a long time now so my takes are not the freshest, that I could possibly be forgetting some things from canon, and also that my posts are always just my own personal opinion, etc.)

So the way I personally interpret this moment is that L actually IS being honest about it to Light here. I think he DOES want Light specifically to be Kira, meaning that as he's worked on this case over time he has come to want this particular thing to be true. And I think he possibly just realized that it's true himself in that moment, and then decided to share that revelation with Light.

I think L would have multiple reasons for genuinely wanting Light to be Kira and also telling Light this, such as:

A. as you said, he can't stand being wrong and wants to prove himself right about the biggest hunch he has in this entire case. He's had a VERY strong intuition about Light being Kira based on the investigating he'd done thus far and the strong similarities he sensed between himself and Light's and Kira's personalities and manner of thinking, and he hasn't exactly been shy about voicing this to everybody all along either. L has a lot of pride wrapped up in proving himself correct and winning at this game! Being proven wrong about this hunch in particular would be a huge blow to his confidence and his ego and somewhat taint his spotless record as the best detective there ever was.

B. because he likes opposing Light in particular. I think Light actually IS special to L in a weird way. In the manga L is introduced as a detective who can solve any case, but who only takes on cases that personally interest and entertain and challenge him, and Light's been a very clever and mysterious and cheeky and tricky opponent for him so far. Probably the most interesting and challenging one he's ever had yet. And on some level L is genuinely enjoying the cat-and-mouse games and the intellectual company and rivalry that Light provides him. This is the FIRST TIME EVER L has ever had to go so far as to reveal himself in person, after all. By this point L has likely become more personally involved in this case and made himself more vulnerable to the other investigators and the suspects than any other one he's ever worked on. It would be very difficult for him to completely refrain from getting emotionally invested at all, and also pretty jarring for him to suddenly have to pivot completely to chasing somebody else after getting in so deep and putting so much on the line!

C. because he might be trying to antagonize Light on purpose by saying something that he knows will probably piss him off badly and then watching how he reacts (and indeed, in the manga we see L having some surprisingly chill musings about this very stuff even as Light is punching him in the face, lol). I think L sometimes just likes pissing Light off or testing him or goading him into a reaction whenever he's in a particularly combative mood...

There's also the possibility that maybe L was just being super oblivious/unsympathetic and didn't 100% think through how that statement might come off to a suspect before he said it (but I'm inclined to believe that he did think it through, given the way he muses about it as he's getting punched).

[littletrashpile]

I spoke TOO SOON. I can’t ever live alone because the moment I hear scritching noises I’m abandoning ship. I HATE bugs. I need someone to kill them for me 😭 or usher them back out into the wild. I’m a big scaredy cat leave me aloooone

[cipheramnesia]

The reason I probably shouldn't be allowed to make movies is I have no impulse control and I would immediately make something called Revenge Of The Dead Tranny Hooker. It would be about a trans woman trying to break into acting, but no one wants to hire her for anything except playing a sex worker who gets murdered. Then one day she does an open casting call which runs her through a series of increasingly bizarre line readings, which it turns out are meant to summon an eldritch demon to grant the movie producer god-like powers.

The culmination is supposed to be sex on the casting couch, but she ditches at the last minute, destroying the ritual and splintering the extradimensional entity across California. She unknowingly receives powerful extradimensional blood, while the rest of the fragments seek out the powerful and violent people of the world. Meanwhile the movie producer uses his new powers to transform his PAs into henchcreatures, and sends them after the protag to finish her off. She discovers her new powers in the ensuing fight, which also seem to be gradually altering her body every time she uses them.

The rest of the movie is a steadily escalating game of cat and mouse between trans woman and movie producer. While the former transformers the fragments into powerful psychic weapons like chainsaws and spiked bats, the later uses fragments to make himself bigger and physically stronger. At first the fights are short and brutal, the protag outmatched and outgunned, but she gets more confident to the point of an anarchic battle of against the LAPD led by a demonic police captain, including a scene where she stands on the roof of a speeding police car and rips the driver through the windshield.

Her eventual form is some kind hyper sexual draconic mantid squid rippling with biomechanoid components. In the fight with the producer he thinks he's winning by tearing apart the last of her human flesh, but this just complete her transformation, letting her easily overwhelm him. It's implied from that point forward she plans to conquer the world.

[sanemistar]

DANGEROUS MAN

contents ★ clan leader!gojo x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fluff, suggestive (17+), making out, slight mention of biting/marking, reader gets called princess, 1.6k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

your parents had warned you several times about satoru gojo, the leader of the gojo clan. one of the strongest clans to exist, along with your own clan. they had forbidden you from speaking him, let alone being in the same room as him. due to the long history and the rivalry between your clan and the gojos, your clans had considered each other enemies for as long as one could remember. you had been familiar with their warnings like the back of your hand, and you had abided by them for so long. though you personally had no ill intentions towards him, nor even understood the hatred against the gojos.

that was, until you had met him in person at one of those boring higher up gatherings that you were forced to attend when you two coincidently went outside to get a breath of fresh air, away from all the tension and awkwardness inside.

the first thought that had come across your mind when you first saw satoru was that he was charming, like one of those charming princes you read about in fairy tales. you’d seen him in pictures before, but never this close. truth be told, pictures could’ve never fully captured how ethereal he looked in real life. you’d never seen anyone like him before, and you probably never would. he was simply out of this world, like a work of art—a one in a million man. enchanted by his beauty, you couldn’t help but stare at him in admiration. your eyes never dared to look away from him, as if they were glued onto him.

“well well. if it isn’t you, the princess from that clan.” satoru’s voice pierced through your ears, waking you up from your dazed state. “you’ve been staring at me for so long, like i’m a statue in a museum or something.” you were unaware of how long you’d been staring at satoru until you saw the confusion on his face as he pointed out. you felt your face redden in embarrassment and you immediately looked down in an attempt to hide your flushed face.

“s-sorry about that, gojo-san. i didn’t mean to do that, i just…” you trailed off mid sentence, unsure of what to say in order to justify your actions earlier. your head was in and your thoughts were all over the place.

you heard a pair of footsteps coming closer to you and before you was none other than satoru. the one man you shouldn’t be standing so close to. your mind was telling you to run away and leave, but your body refused to move an inch. his thumb quickly glazed over your chin, swiftly lifting it up and your eyes got caught in his alluring gaze like a mouse in a cheese trap that was unable to escape before he let go of your chin. you could swear that the spot where he touched you earlier was tingling, as if his touch was electric.

“oh c’mon, no need for these formalities. they mean nothing to me. my name is satoru, so just call me satoru.” he spoke and you were slightly taken aback, you two had just met and he already wanted you to act on a first name basis.

“but..” he cut you mid sentence.

“no buts, it’s pretty easy. just repeat after me, satoru.” he said his name again slowly, waiting for you to say it back. he was pretty insistent on it so it looked like you had no choice.

“satoru.” his name finally rolled off your tongue, and a proud smirk made its way onto his face upon hearing you say his name. the way it came off your lips got him a little excited.

just then an idea popped up in satoru’s head, a reckless one at that.

“why don’t we go somewhere else where it’s just us two? away from all this.” he grabbed your hand gently yet firmly, like he had no intention of leaving you alone.

you knew best that it was never good ignoring what your parents had told you and involving yourself with him. but at that moment, you agreed to go with him. completely forgetting about everything, the rivalry, the hatred, everything. you weren’t sure if that was a rebellion phase or what, all you knew was that it felt right leaving with him.

satoru seemed surprised for a moment by how quickly you agreed to follow him, but grinned and took your hand before dragging the two of you away as you disappeared from the main entrance and into a quieter place where it was just you and him.

you had no idea how you ended up being pinned against the wall with satoru’s tall, lean figure hovering over you. completely blocking your view and blocking you from sight.

“why did you follow me so easily, hm? what if i had a malicious intention of some sort. didn’t your parents warn you about how dangerous the gojos were? especially their leader.” your chest moved up and down as your heart began racing rapidly.

“if you had any malicious intentions like you said, you would’ve taken me somewhere outside the territory. but since we didn’t really go that far away, it’d be useless for you to be doing anything dangerous here.” you began explaining. and satoru seemed so impressed by your smart response.

“you’re indeed very amusing.” he chuckled softly. he rested his hands on the wall, forcing you to look at nothing else around but him.

tension between the two of you began rising, and you found yourself subconsciously looking at his lips.

and satoru was so quick to notice how you were eyeing his lips for a while now.

“you could’ve simply asked me for a kiss if you want it so badly instead of just staring at my lips, princess.” he leaned in as he whispered into your ear and you could feel it heat up a bit in embarrassment.

and before you could get the chance to say anything you felt satoru’s lips smacking onto yours. you gasped into the kiss in surprise, your mind screamed at you to break away and push him off of you. but this time not only your body, but also your heart, refused to. you wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in the mood as you pulled him even closer to you. your fingers ran through the back of his soft hair.

meanwhile, satoru’s hands delicately trailed all over your back, slowly exploring every part and every bit of your skin. he was taking his sweet time touching you all while having your lips against his own, tongue exploring every corner of your mouth.

as the two of you further got in the mood, your kisses had become sloppier and hungrier. teeth clashing against each other as tongues swirled around one another in sync. what started off as a soft, gentle kiss had become a series of deep, passionate kisses that held so much lust and desire in them.

you felt so good that you could almost see stars.

“mhmm..” careful not to make any loud noises in order to avoid getting caught by anyone, you hummed against his lips. and you never knew you had the ability to hum like that ever so sweetly.

you couldn’t believe that you were doing such things with the one man you were never supposed to be doing all of that with.

satoru gojo was indeed dangerous, he was too dangerous for your heart.

the two of you had been making out for almost ten minutes straight. if it wasn’t for your desperate need for air to breathe, you wouldn’t have broken away. but due to the lack of oxygen, you had to break away from the kiss and catch your breath. eyes were only half open, your head was still light and dizzy after that makeout session as you were heavily panting, your lips which were now swollen were still slightly parted as a small trail of drool trickled down your chin.

“you look so beautiful right now, i think i’m in love.” satoru glazed his thumb over the corner of your lips, wiping the drool off. he leaned in once more and began nibbling on the crook of your slender neck and you winced a little as you felt him biting a bit too hard which would have probably left a mark that you would have to hide.

“maybe we should leave all this behind and run away together. it’s a great idea, don’t you think?” he suggested as he looked up at you, his blue eyes glowed slightly in the dark.

you suddenly came back to your senses upon hearing the words he said and slightly pushed him off of you.

“satoru we..” you began speaking, trying to form a coherent sentence. “we can’t do that. we’re supposed to be enemies, remember?” it was more of a reminder to yourself than it was to him that you and satoru would never be anything more than enemies.

“but enemies don’t kiss each other like that.” he whispered as he continued kissing your neck and up to your cheeks, then your nose, then back to your lips. he gave you quick, light pecks before pulling away.

“guess i’ll have to talk to those annoying higher ups of ours and end that nonsense rivalry, cause no way i’m gonna let you be with anyone else that’s not me.”

and the next thing you knew, you were being dragged by satoru into the main hall where all the higher ups were as both of you made a dramatic entrance when he announced that he’d be marrying you before kissing you in front of all of them. leaving everyone in the room, you included, in great shock.

satoru gojo was a dangerous, very dangerous man.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies

[paarksunghoon]

Sunghoon trying to stay sane and respectful but your love for mini skirts and barely there tops are testing his patience day by day. He's not a horn dog but God when you press against him, so soft, so pretty and oh so naive..do you not notice your entire cleavage hanging out for his eyes to drink in, or the skirt riding up your luscious thighs as you rant about your day?

as someone who wears mini skirts all the time…nbgngngn. i’m also pretty high but reading this really put a number on me so sorry for typos lol

***

Sunghoon is a skirt chaser.

He’s always loved seeing girls wearing them since it made their legs look longer. It didn’t matter much to him—short girls or tall girls—he loved seeing ass peeking out from under the skirt and how they’d always tug at the hem to pull it down. Sunghoon doesn’t date much either (although that definitely wasn’t because nobody wanted him like that either; he wasn’t looking for that type of commitment).

He loved the kind of skirts that paired well for going out. Sure, the solid color staples pieces were cute. But the way silk touches the skin and how hips sway in these fabrics was enough to make his mouth salivate.

When you started wearing them, Sunghoon became perplexed.

You, his best friend since twelve, seemed to have ditched jeans and long dresses for short skirts and baby tees. In the past few months, he’s seen you switch up your wardrobe to the point where he was sure you had more than enough mini skirts to last you a lifetime. They came in all colors and styles, one for every color underneath the rainbow and then some. His friends all noticed this too, eyes following your ass every time you walked in front of them. That made him mad.

The thing is, you have an amazing ass and your tits always sit so pretty. He tries not to stare and gawk at you every time you wear these kinds of clothes. You keep it fairly tame when you’re in broad daylight and push the boundaries on a night out. You don’t seem to care that his friends stare at you every time you try to cover yourself up from a gust of wind or when you bend down. Sunghoon has probably seen your panties too many times.

He really doesn’t understand why all of these feelings are bubbling up. He’s seen you in bikinis and didn’t react like this. Sunghoon is confused but that doesn’t stop his dick from getting hard every time he pictures your outfits when he’s in the safety of his bedroom.

His favorite way to get off is by pushing his back against the bed frame and spreading his legs, holding his fist in a circle and he pumps himself up and down. Sunghoon pictures you riding him in one of your infamous mini skirts, looking up at the ceiling and imagining what you’d look like on top of him. He thinks about how he’d look down and the dirty affair would be covered by the fabric, as if thinking about fucking your best friend wasn’t weird.

Sunghoon is pulled back to reality when you squeeze his bicep in lieu of a greeting.

“Do you have our tickets?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus, Y/N. You need to warn a guy before you creep up on them.”

“All I did was touch your arm!” His cheeks feel hot as you laugh. “Were you in deep thought, or something?”

His eyes flicker to the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you wear but scoffs, playing it off. “Nah. You’re as quiet as a mouse.”

“Well this mouse wants to go inside.”

You don’t wait for him to answer you. Sunghoon feels you tug him by the hand towards the security line in front of the concert venue. You’ve been a bit more physical with him lately, tugging on his arm and sifting your fingers through his hair whenever he’d lay his head on top of yours. He only ever means to for a brief second in the way friends do, but he hesitates to pull away once you tug at his roots.

The artist is a band you two discovered a few years back and he was in charge of buying the concert tickets for the both of you. Sunghoon sees the fruit of his labor pay off when you’re both standing inside after you both pass through security. The venue is crowded and small, but you’re sure everybody is too high out of their minds to notice people bumping into them anyway.

As the two of you walk closer towards the middle, it starts to get tighter. Sunghoon moves you in front of him and puts his hands on your waist to guide you and doesn’t mind that your arms are resting on top of his.

You don’t move away from him once you’ve joined others either. He noticed that you’re a bit shorter than everyone else around you. “Do you want to get on my shoulders during your favorite songs?”

“No, that’s okay. I want to dance.”

He looks down at your skirt. “Mhm, let me know if you change your mind.

The two of you wait until the show begins and you’re talking to him about how excited you are for tonight but all he can think about is how he could cop a feel if he really wanted to. The skirt you’re wearing provides him easy access to touch you but he refuses to act on his urges, often flexing his fingers to calm himself down.

Halfway through the show and everyone is having a great time. You’ve danced for an hour straight and feel your legs wobbling after jumping and screaming the lyrics to Sunghoon. He’s a bit taken aback when you rest your back against his chest but tries not to think too much into it.

But you stay like that for a while and he can feel the fabric of your skirt. He toys with it absentmindedly as he nods his head to the melody until he feels your legs tensing against him. When he looks down, your thighs are squished together.

Fuck. He wonders if you’re horny.

Sunghoon hooks his chin over your shoulder and peeks down below to where his hands graze the hem of your mini skirts. When you don’t motion for him to move away, he grunts when his hands start to disappear and moans directly in your ear when his fingers touch your panties. It’s only then does he realize how wet you are.

His other arm is secured over your waist and you grip onto him at the sudden contact across your blooming core. He swipes his index and middle fingers back and forth to gauge just how wet you’ve become, smearing it all over your panties. It brings a gasp out of you and he pushes his lap against your ass.

It’s too much and he’s too hard. Neither of you are paying much attention to the show anymore, too wrapped up in your own little world to focus on anything else. Sunghoon nearly moans out loud when he realizes you’re allowing him to hump you from behind.

“Are you trying to ruin this friendship?”

Sunghoon feels you nod against him and the two of you head out of the venue and into his car. He tries to keep it in his pants on the ten minute drive back to his apartment. You don’t fuss when Sunghoon shoves his hand between your legs and keeps rubbing over your pussy as he drives, one hand on the wheel while he plays with you. Your best friend bites his lip and tenses when arousal gushes out of you.

“Recline and open your legs wider, baby.” You do as he says and he pats your clit twice. “Good girl, listening to me like that.” He switches his ministrations and brings his thumb to rub over your clit in back and forth motions. “Need to make sure you stay wet.”

And stay wet you do. You’re wet all the way home where he locks the two of you in his place until he’s dropping to his knees and pushing your chest against the wall. Sunghoon puts his face between your legs and licks up the arousal clinging to your panties while spreading your cheeks apart with his big hands, squeezing when you yelp.

He pulls the pathetic fabric aside and sticks his tongue into you, prying yourself open for his viewing. His warmth breath fans over your core and it has you pushing back against his face until his tongue licks you up in repeated motions.

Sunghoon doesn’t really care that he’s too horny for foreplay and neither do you, apparently, because when you hear sunghoon unzip his pants and take them off, you’re taking your panties off and taking your shoes off too. He grabs himself and aligns his tip with your hole before pushing all of himself inside.

You’re so wet. It’s so hot. He fucks you like he’s got enough stamina to last a lifetime and your tits bounce against the walls at the pace he’s set. He pulls back far enough that he nearly slips out every time but without fail, Sunghoon will make sure his dick stays wet the entire time you’re with him.

He pulls you back onto the couch with his cock still lodged inside of you, manhandling your body until he’s got you on his lap and your feet are placed by his knees. Sunghoon pushes his hips upwards and fucks you like this, balls slapping your clit with every thrust. He moans when you moan, the emptiness of his apartment filled up by erotic noises that only spur on his orgasm.

Your release triggers his. When he feels your cum seeping down onto the base, Sunghoon shoots his thick ropes into you but doesn’t stop thrusting. Albeit lazier and more random, he keeps his frantic pace and lets you dig your fingers into him while you wonder how your best friend made you cum so fast.

“Fuck!” you moan when Sunghoon pulls out just to push himself back in once he’s made your body lay in front of him.

“You’re so fucking sexy in these things.” He acknowledges the skirt by flipping the fabric with his fingers. Sunghoon doesn’t give you enough time to reply but you’re too busy moaning to care about the consequences anyway. “Wear them more often and I’ll fuck you like this every time.”

Since when is your best friend so good at dirty talk?!

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[preqwells]

cw: implied smut, fluff

roommate simon who had just saved your sorry ass yet again from another failed date. he didn't know where you found these men, honestly. "your poor taste get to you again? or just desperation?" he'd ask mockingly which made you want to choke him then and there. you'd only grunt in frustration which proved him right-- probably both. he'd tease you more if it wasn't for what you had worn tonight-- it wasn't like it was a problem, it was just… distracting. you were distracting. he didn't like the way your perfume made him feel heady and borderline dizzy as he drove you two home-- couldn't stand it, honestly.

he didn't appreciate the way you'd dance around the subject of you two, either. why were you going out with these men when he was right there? were you scared because you two were roommates and friends? were you scared of messing up what you guys had? he didn't know and at this point didn't care to probe-- your lack of interest was all-telling.

at least, that's how it was in his perspective… he didn't notice how your gaze consistently lingered on him-- the way his frame hulked over yours when helping you get something off the top of the fridge, the way you'd greet him 'good morning' as he grunted back as your eyes followed him, trudging into the kitchen. he didn't even notice now how you eyed him in the passenger seat with his cologne encompassing you, almost enticing you.

but he did notice how you got out of the car as you two reached your shared apartment, there was a lingering sense of tension-- an unspoken question of why you two had let this cat-and-mouse game go on for so long. "i'm deleting these stupid fucking dating apps-- all i meet are weirdos." you declared with a huff, prompting simon to raise his brow as he finished parking his car, closing the door effortlessly as he locked it. "and whose fault is that?" he asked as a matter-of-fact as you two approached your door, your eyes narrowing as you drew yourself closer to him.

"yours."

"mine?"

"did i stutter?"

"don't gotta stutter to be wrong, love."

"fuck you."

he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he opened the door for you. he didn't take you seriously-- he had no reason to. you were like this all the time. "whatever you say." he mumbled, his voice a deep rumble as your eyes raised to meet his. little did he know you were serious.

you had proposed to watch a movie together on the couch as a way to end the night-- you were hoping maybe everything didn't need to end on a bad note, even if your date had gone to shit. he decided to indulge you, maybe against his better judgment. you got all but maybe an hour into the movie before you two started sharing glances. one, here and there-- two, just because you had finished off the last of the popcorn and it irked him-- three, because of the way your laughter at a scene in the movie had coaxed a small smirk from his lips-- four, just because of the way the flickers of light from the television were illuminating your features as you snuggled closer to him. "maybe… i should go to bed." you whispered to him, looking up at him with a slightly hazed look from your exhaustion. the warmth of your breath brushed against his cheek, the proximity intoxicating as your eyes flickered between dark molasses eyes and plush pink lips. "really?" simon asked softly, as if testing your resolve.

"really."

"tired?"

"…something like that."

simon went quiet as he caught onto the growing tension, his hand snaking around your waist to readjust your position on his lap as you helped, looking up at you as you lazily straddled him. "something like that?" he mumbled, his thumb trailing down to run along the fat of your hip. you leaned in, your lips ghosting above his as he reciprocated the change in your position, tilting his head to meet your lips in a slow kiss. your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled you closer to him, your lips slightly parting to let out a small noise of surprise when he suddenly squeezed your thigh, simon failing to resist the urge to see what makes you tick. you felt his tongue probe at your lower lip, teasing you. "so-- you're gonna uninstall those apps?" he asked breathlessly in between kisses.

"we're… in the middle of making out."

"so?"

"so?"

you let out a small yelp when his hand traveled to your ass to give it a small pinch, prompting you to jump. "ouch--! yes, yes! i am! god!" you groaned out in faux pain before you caught a glimmer in his eye, a satisfied hum escaping him as he began planting kisses along the side of your jaw and down the side of your neck as he lightly nipped at your skin.

"mm, good."

[kedreeva]

Here is Bug dancing on the edge of her mouse room seat.

She was DESPERATE for the fully adult mouse (already dead, a cull heading for the freezer) that I was holding, despite that it was too big for her to eat (well. she probably could, but it would look very stupid and take a long time, it would just be embarrassing for us both). She managed to reach far enough to grab it anyway at the end. I traded her for one that was smaller and easier to eat.

She will do the same steppy-feet on the floor and reach waayyyyy up and do little hops trying to get things in my hands.

My favorite is when she comes out to the kitchen with me while I cook, and she stands beside me and if I don't give her little tastes of stuff as we go, she will tolerate this for a while but eventually I will feel a little tug on my pant leg like "hey :((( give me some too :((((" and the speed at which she snatches anything I pass her to her at that point is liable to break the sound barrier at some point.

[propertyofwicked]

HOMESICK - LN

content warnings: just fluff really, mentions of anxiety, being far from family

2.4k words - lemme know if u want a pt2 for this one :)

masterlist

y/n hated new places, she hated change, and most of all she hated being away from home. y/n knew she would eventually feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in woking, but for now, her blood ran hot, and an icy sweat took over her body, her eyes tearful even though she couldn’t pin point why she felt so upset. the flat was silent, and yet deafening, every whistle of wind or creak of a floorboard serving as her constant reminder - you are alone, your are miles away from your family, everything is unfamiliar.

she found herself constantly shaking her head, trying to knock some sense into herself

you’ve done this before, you went to university even further from your family, you did this for 3 years, you can do it again. you are a grown woman now sort yourself out.

her thoughts battled loudly with each other, one side of her brain logical, the other trying to sabotage her.

it just didn’t make sense - she travelled across the world almost weekly, filming and editing content for the mclaren social media pages, working closely with the drivers, engineers and management and never once felt overwhelmed with the distance from home comforts. she supposed being constantly on the move, keeping her mind and body occupied with her work boded well in distracting her from feeling homesick. the close bond she’d formed with everyone in the garages probably aided her even further, provided her with a new sense of family away from home.

but for now, she sat cross legged on her desk chair, arms resting on the table, her head balancing precariously in her hands, deep in sleep. y/n had arrived at the offices at 10pm, unable to sleep in her empty flat, the feeling of constant nausea and upset overbearing, and deciding that being productive was a much better use of her time - a great distraction from her loneliness. she hadn’t intended to fall asleep, especially not in a position that put so much strain on her back, and yet here she was.

3am in the mclaren offices and all that could be heard was heavy, exhausted breathing and the soft whir of a computer fan that ran idly in the background.

this is something that lando found peculiar - who was sleeping in the office? and why were they sleeping here? he thought to himself as he and oscar snuck into the building from the side door.

as they rounded the corner, oscar’s mouth opened, starting to ask the same thing lando had been questioning, but was cut off by lando’s finger raising to his own lips, shushing the younger man before pointing to y/n’s desk, her head now resting on the table cheek smushing her forgotten glasses further into her face uncomfortably.

the two of them, stared at the girl before moving to look back at each other, a mix of confusion and amusement glossing their faces.

“wh- why is she here?” he asked, out of pure concern for the girl.

“i don’t know oscar, we walked in at the same time?” lando responds, taking long but quiet steps to stand behind her chair.

“didn’t she just get a new flat near here? why wouldn’t she go home?” oscar asked again, mindlessly, knowing that lando was also bewildered to the sight in front of them. the older man simply shrugged in response, moving to rest a hand on the sleeping girl’s shoulder, bending slightly till he was level with her face.

“y/n? y/n?” he asked her softly, moving her shoulder gently in his hand as to not startle her, “you need to wake up, darlin’, can’t sleep here,” he adds, noting her breathing change as she came back to reality.

“lando?” she asked, startled, despite his best efforts, “what are you doing here it’s like -” she wiggled the mouse on her computer to bring up the home screen, “3am?”

“what are you doing here at 3am? not to mention, fast asleep at your desk,” he retorts, standing back and crossing his arms over his chest. she finally clocks oscar stood awkwardly behind him, sending him a quick smile, before leaning back in her chair, looking at lando again.

“i asked first.”

“we’re breaking in to decorate zach’s office for his birthday,” he says as though it was obvious, laughing slightly at the thought of the hello kitty balloons stuffed into the bag oscar held behind his back, “now, what are you doing here?”

“working,” she replied, offering no more to her story.

“with your eyes closed? drooling on your desk? i don’t think so.”

“i was not drooling,” she argues, confident in her words despite the back of her hand moving to wipe her mouth just in case.

“you we-”

“didn’t you just move in to a new flat y/n?” oscar asks, interrupting what he was sure would be an entertaining round of bickering between the two.

“i did,” she says with a nod, “i just got so caught up in my work. didn’t realise what the time was,” she adds, dodging the subject of her empty flat. the flat so empty of life, but so full of overwhelming silence and dread, and yet she found solace in the silence of the mclaren offices.

“do you want a ride home?” lando asked, sensing there was more to the story, but leaving the can unopened, for now.

she shook her head, breathing out a long sigh as she did.

“no thanks, i might just stay here till the work day starts,” she adds, her hand rubbing her eyes slightly, feeling the exhaustion still looming in her brain.

“are you sure?” oscar asked, concern rising in his voice again.

“yep,” y/n replied, the ‘p’ exaggerated.

the boys looked at each other, a silent exchange of words between the team mates as they moved in the direction of zach’s office once again.

“we’ll come check in with you before we leave, yeah?” lando added, before turning on his heel and following oscar down the long hallway. she nodded even though they couldn’t see her, before pulling the hood of her jumper over her hair, and letting her head fall back onto the desk, using her arms as makeshift pillows.

it was nearing 4am when the two returned, once again guided down the hallway by the sound of y/n’s heavy breathing. they stopped just before they could see her, turning to each other.

“we gotta get her home. her back is gonna be ruined if she keeps sleeping like that,” oscar says, keeping his voice low.

“i know - she still hasn’t forgiven jon for letting her sleep curled up under a table a year ago. spent the whole week complaining about her spine aching,” lando replied, smiling softly at the memory of her trying to bend herself backwards over a chair to ‘reset’ her back, as she had claimed.

“how do we get her to leave? willingly? without the kicking and screaming?” lando asked after a moment of silence, the boys plotting their next moves.

“you’ll think of something, im sure. she’ll never say no to you,” oscar replies, his hands moving to grip his car keys in the pockets of his joggers.

“what do you mean? ill think of something? you’re not leaving me to deal with her on my own, are you?” lando asked, suddenly doubting his abilities to contend with the strong willed woman asleep not 3 metres away from them.

“i left lily sleeping 2 hours ago, and i don’t feel like explaining this,” he says, pointing at the room in general, “when she wakes up and realises im not there,” he finishes with a shrug.

“fine,” lando says with a huff, “wish me luck.”

“good luck. lemme know how she gets on,” the australian replies, walking away from lando slowly, but glancing into the office space to check on y/n one last time.

lando sighed again, before sauntering back into the room he had left her in an hour ago. he moved to crouch next to her again, his fingers moving to pull her hood back, tucking her hair out of her face as he did. she looked so peaceful like this, her eyes twitching slightly under the pressure of sleep, a lose strand of hair blowing with every exhale. he didn’t want to wake her, but there was no other option unless he wheeled her out on the chair she sat on.

“angel? y/n?” he paused, grimacing slightly at his slip up, “it’s time to go,” he said softly, stroking her arm gently. he hoped she was too sleepy to notice the pet name.

“go where?” she mumbled, in her half-asleep state, eyes opening to look at him.

“home, y/n. need to get you in a proper bed.”

“no, im fine here,” she said, quickly defending her choice of sleeping position, “you go, ill see you later.”

“nuh-uh,” he tutted, standing in front of her to grip both her arms, dragging her up from the chair, “you are going to go home and sleep in a proper bed.”

“i don’t have my car and there’s no buses at this time.”

“ill drive you home.”

“it’s out of your way, you’d be wasting a journey.”

“don’t care. you’re getting in my car and im taking you home,” he argued back, finalising the argument she knew she wouldn’t win.

“fine,” she huffed, still clawing for the last word even if she had lost the battle.

soon, they were stood in the car park, lando stepping to the side to pull the passenger door open, a hand firmly on her back pushing her into the car. she wanted to argue that she was fully capable of getting in the car on her own, but the pure exhaustion took over as she adjusted the seat to her comfort, clicking her belt in as lando started the engine.

the car was silent, asides from the fans that pushed warm air into the vehicle and the low humming of the engine. he tried his best to take the roads slow, especially as he neared her flat, fearing waking up the neighbourhood with the growling of his car when he accelerated.

“what’s the real reason you didn’t wanna go home?” he asked, arm coming to rest at his side.

“i told you, i didn’t realise what time it was,” she said, refusing to let her lie catch up with her.

“bullshit.”

“what?”

“i said, bullshit. that’s not the real reason.”

“im homesick,” she spat out, “ok? im an adult woman who can’t handle the prospect of being home alone, 200 miles away from her family. happy now?”

“happ- why would i be happy about that?” he asked, his tone softer than his previous outburst. they were now pulling into her apartment building, y/n still neglecting to answer him until the car pulled to a complete stop.

“you wanna come in, for a bit?” she asked, biting her tongue.

“do you want me to come in?”

“yeah, if you want to. only for a bit,” she said again.

“ok,” his response was simple, he didn’t really need to think it through. he glanced down at his watch, 5:15am, and yet, he could not feel more awake. he didn’t mind staying, especially if it gave her the comfort to move freely in her own home.

walking into her flat felt oddly natural to him, despite him having never been there. the two could be considered close friends, not that either of them would acknowledge it, but spending years working closely together, travelling around the world, tends to do that. they’d started working at mclaren at similar times, him as a driver and her as a content creator for the brand, the new job nerves acting as almost a trauma bond between the two. they’d spent many nights in each others hotel rooms, playing games, watching films, often with oscar in tow - anything to pass the time in between races - but the two had never crossed the personal boundary into each others homes.

and yet, lando strolled in, took his shoes off by the door, and threw himself down on the sofa as if this was a daily thing. y/n dropped herself down next to him, sighing as she did.

“you need to sleep,” he said, turning to look at her, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa where she sat.

“my brain is too awake now,” she said, voice never faltering despite her stomach turning as she realises how close they were sat, the way his warmth surrounded her as his fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the seat behind her head.

“you wanna watch something till you settle again?” he asked, tv remote already in hand.

“sounds good,” she replied, tight lipped, eyes focusing as he scrolled through her netflix, settling on a film she didn’t care to remember the name of.

before the opening credits had even started, y/n body slumped against lando’s, head dropping to rest below his shoulder. he tensed slightly, relaxing again when he looked down to see her eyes closed, chest heaving deep breathes once again. his arm resting on the sofa dropped behind her back, his hand moving to hold her waist gently, fingers drawing light circles on the fabric of her leggings.

a while later, he moved his hips slightly, trying to re adjust his position to stop his legs going dead. he feared he had woken her, when she mumbled something incoherent and began moving. lando allowed himself to let out a shaky breath as she twisted herself into his side, her arm moving to wrap around his waist, her leg bending upwards to rest on top of his.

he waited a moment, as if to check she was really sleeping, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“goodnight, angel,” he whispered.

lando told himself he’d leave when the film ended. in his silence he planned how to move from the sofa without waking her. but then his eyes grew tired, and he told himself he’d shut them, just for a moment.

the two of them lay on the sofa, fast asleep. his posture had sloped in his slumber, shifting their bodies into a recline, his arms wrapped tightly around her and she settled onto his chest. their legs entwined with each other, a blanket lando had attempted to wrap around her had fallen haphazardly to the floor.

[ilguna]

Hey! Can I get the number 89 (in honour of 1989 tv) with finnick ?

☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution.

wc; 8.6k

prompt; 86. "Do you trust her?" // "No, but I trust her anger."

notes; i already did 89 for Peeta (castaway) and i'm trying not to do any repeats, so we're going with 86 :)

part two, part three.

--

The golden Cornucopia sits abandoned in the middle of this black sand island, whereas normally it’s occupied by the Careers to ensure that no intruders steal from them. There must not be anything worth protecting in here, then, besides the weapons that are displayed.

This allows the group to spread out, picking places to rest in the shade. Peeta lowers Beetee to the ground, propping him up against a box. He backs off, going to stand next to Katniss.

Beetee calls out to Wiress, making her go over to him. She crouches down, hands on her knees, waiting. In her limited state of mind, you’re fairly surprised that she’s still comprehending people, much less requests. He holds up his coil of wire, she takes it. “Clean it, will you?” 

Wiress nods, wordlessly getting to her feet and going to sit on the edge of the island to clean the spool of blood. She dunks it in the water, occasionally using her fingers to rub a particularly hard spot. While she does this, she begins to sing, no longer repeating the words ‘tick tock’.

It must be some sort of nursery rhyme from District Three, because you don’t recognize it. It’s about a mouse running up and down a clock, which is fairly appropriate, given the recent discovery, thanks to her.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, rolling her brown eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Wiress stops suddenly, getting to her feet, posture rigid as she points to the jungle and says, “Two.”

The rest of you watch as a white wave of fog begins to seep onto the beach. From here, it doesn't seem so threatening. You probably wouldn’t think twice about it, if you hadn’t run for your life from it early this morning. While it melted your jumpsuit and poisoned your skin, causing you to strip to your under clothes and for your body to be covered in scabs from where it touched you.

You’d rather fight the orange monkey muttations a hundred times than risk doing that again.

“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.

“LIke clockwork.” Peeta agrees. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, and then kneels in the sand to continue singing and dunking the coil in water. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says from beside you. Your eyes slide over to him. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna scoffs.

“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss ends that line of conversation, turning to go inside of the Cornucopia.

Johanna goes in after her to poke around in the weapons, since she’s been empty handed the entire time. Funny how Beetee was able to make it to the Cornucopia before she did, even if it ended up getting him hurt because of it.

You briefly glance at Finnick from where you were watching Johanna, and you have to do a double-take when you realize that he’s staring at you. He looks you over, up and down, which would be flattering, if you didn’t know that he was assessing your demeanor, deciding if you were a threat.

You squint at him, face twisting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He tells you.

“It’s not nothing if you’re looking at me like that.” You snap. “Leave me alone.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything back. You’re getting tired of him thinking that you’re going to betray the alliance. You’re in this as much as he is, you volunteered to be here. If anything, he should be a little grateful that he got a district partner that’s invested and capable.

He doesn’t see it that way, though. He thinks that you’re just as bad as Enobaria and Brutus—that you’re itching to get back into an arena to kill for some spotlight. And you know this, because he told you himself on the train. Once you were out of sight of the cameras, he tried to lay you out in front of Mags and the escort, and you shut him down.

You know he disagrees with the way you choose to handle situations, but to think that you would get in the way of a rebellion was a slap to the face. You made sure he knew that later on, when you were out of earshot of the Peacekeepers. If he wanted to think of you so lowly, fine. The line is drawn when he begins to implant those ideas in other people’s heads, too. Especially since you’ve done nothing to deserve it.

It didn’t matter to him. In fact, he tried to block you from being invited into the alliance by telling Haymitch that you could fuck the whole plan if your mood changes. He said all it would take is one disagreement, one thing not going the way you wanted, one wrong look, and you’d make sure that everyone else would be brought down by it.

Thankfully, Haymitch knows better than to just take Finnick’s word for it. He might be a drunk, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention for the past ten years. He knows that you and Finnick have a history of not getting along. If anything, you’ll sabotage Finnick more than you will the alliance as a whole.

Which is why he told you that you have a place in it, if you want. And while everyone else places stepping stones to make sure that the plan to get rescued is in place. You were told that you have two jobs; the first one being protecting Katniss and Peeta, a task that you were already prepared to risk your life for. As for the second one—if anything were to go wrong, if someone unexpected were to get killed, you’ll replace their shoes, and get Katniss and Peeta to the end of the day at all costs.

This is why you’ve been on edge. If Finnick would see past his hatred for you, and thought about it, he’d realize that you’re trying to make sure that Katniss and Peeta are in good positions. You are not the threat here.

Johanna lets out a grunt, you turn your head in time to watch as she throws an axe through the air, straight at the Cornucopia. It hits the sun-softened gold with a gentle thud, and it sticks. She crosses the area, pulling it out by the handle, making a face at the blade.

Katniss is digging through the weapons, probably looking for more arrows to add to her collection, because two sheaths aren’t enough. When she finds one, she swings it over her back and comes out to stand over Peeta, who’s drawing a map of the arena onto a large leaf that he brought from the jungle. He slices the circle, creating twelve equal wedges.

“Look how the Cornucopia is positioned.” He says, looking up at her.

Her eyebrows draw in, and she turns around to take a look at the building she just came out of. “The tail points to twelve o’clock.”

“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, numbering the wedges one through twelve. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He proceeds to write lightning in the wedge, and then goes clockwise, adding blood, fog, and monkeys in the next sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” She says, he writes it down. 

Finnick comes over with Johanna, the two of them have upped the weapon count on their bodies. And he thinks you’re the dangerous one, as if you don’t have a sword and a couple knives on you. Does he really need two tridents and half a dozen knives? It makes him look…

Hot, a voice whispers from the depth of your mind, It makes him look hot.

He’s standing in a patch of sun, where the Cornucopia doesn’t quite reach. The sunbeams baking his already tanned skin. His eyes are a brighter shade of sea green, with the light being in his eyes. He looks like he belongs at the bottom of the ocean, commanding the creatures that dwell in it.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he flickers over to yours. You stare for a second longer, before blinking and looking away, back at the map that’s being drawn. 

It’s a shame that Finnick decided years back that he would rather keep you at a distance instead of making a friend out of you. The two of you are so similar that it hurts at times, but all he can see are the differences, which hurts more.

The both of you won at young ages, with him setting the record, while you won at fifteen. He had an advantage in his Games, though, because the sponsors were drawn in by his good looks for being someone so young. This meant that he had everything he could have ever asked for gifted to him in the arena.

On the other hand, you didn’t make much of an impression during your reaping or the Tribute Parade, forcing you to change the strategy that you’d been given by Finnick and Mags. They wanted you to keep your head down, but if you wanted even a sliver of a chance, you needed to make your name big.

So, that’s exactly what you did. And that’s where the resentment he has for you, started. You showed off absolutely all your skills in the Training Center, making sure the Gamemakers knew you had potential, getting you a score of nine. During your interviews, you told Caesar that there wasn’t a single hurdle you wouldn’t jump to get home.

That statement was put to the test in the arena, when you killed several tributes, including your own district partner, because you knew it put you one step closer to getting out. You didn’t care what bridges you had to burn, how many sponsors you had to lose, or if you lost the support of your mentors. Nothing could stop you, and it didn’t.

Finnick hates that you had no remorse when you got out of the arena. Or now, because you told him that this is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, because between life and death, you choose life. He can’t wrap his head around the fact you’re so cold. How could the two of you be from the same district?

The similarities came back into play when you turned sixteen, when the Capitol realized that they do care about you. Which changed your title from victor to Capitol darling. You were told to join Finnick and be a prostitute, or President Snow would kill your family. 

This is where you screwed up, believing him to be bluffing. You didn’t think he would actually do it, but he’s a man of his word. When you were done listening to the screams and pleas of your parents to spare your siblings, Snow told you that if you didn’t agree, Finnick’s family would be next.

You had no choice, you had to agree. And when Finnick found out that you landed right where he was, there wasn’t a single shred of empathy he had toward you. Not even after you returned to District Four, and he learned that your family had been murdered in your home. The one you’d be forced to stay in for an additional two weeks while they got your victor house ready.

If you weren’t indifferent to his existence before, you sure as hell were then.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee, referring to the wedges. 

“Only blood.” Johanna says, Beetee nods.

“I guess they could hold anything.” Katniss looks down at Peeta.

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

You look up, going to check on Wiress, since she’s gone quiet. Your eyes find Gloss, water dripping from his bare skin, knife sliding across the skin on her throat. It’s too late to save her, you know this when the blood begins to come down her neck like a waterfall.

The knife on your belt is in your hand and flying through the air in the matter of seconds. It’s headed right for Gloss, and when the blade lodges in the center of his forehead, it throws him back. This kills him instantly.

A movement out of the corner of your eye makes you turn your head, hand reaching for the knife that’s lined up next, but Johanna’s on it. She buries her axe in the center of Cashmere’s chest, eliminating her.

Three cannons blast, back to back.

Finnick swings his trident upward, deflecting a spear that had been aiming for Peeta, thrown by Brutus. Finnick goes to twist his body to take the knife that Enobaria throws at Beetee, but he misses by an inch. It’s too late for you to save Beetee, as the knife shatters the lens on the right side, and the blade buries itself in his eye socket.

Fuck.

Another cannon blasts.

You shove Finnick out of the way to chase after Enobaria and Brutus, who are making their escape around the backside of the Cornucopia. They’ve successfully killed two of your most important allies, and they don’t even realize it.

The two Careers are running down one of the sand strips to the beach. You manage to throw one more knife at Brutus before he’s out of range. It slams into his right calf, taking him down. He lands on his hands and knees, which is exactly what you were hoping for.

Right as you’re about to step onto the strip, the ground beneath you jerks, throwing you down. The center island of the Cornucopia begins to spin, fast. You press your sword between your body and the ground, digging your fingers into the grooves to hold on. 

It’s only thirty seconds later when it slams to a stop without warning. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking measured breaths to calm the growing annoyance in your chest. The Gamemakers knew you would kill Brutus, and later Enobaria, if you caught up with her. That’s why they had to intervene, otherwise the fun of the Games would be gone.

You slam your fist against the rock, pushing yourself to your knees. You lean back on your heels slightly, face to the sun while you collect yourself. With Wiress and Beetee being gone, this is a very large hiccup that you’re going to have to smooth out. You jinxed yourself, didn’t you?

A sigh leaves you as you get to your feet, swinging the sword into your hand. As you round the corner, you can see that everyone else is upright. Finnick looks over at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for good news, because you were the closest to the Two tributes.

“Brutus is injured. I would’ve had him if the fuckin’ Gamemakers had minded their own business.” You stab the tip of the sword into a patch of sand.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks, looking around the group.

“He’s dead.” You tell her.

She meets your eyes, “What happened?”

“I—” Finnick starts.

“I didn’t block the knife in time.” You talk over him. “Enobaria’s got a strong arm, it went right through his glasses.”

You can see Finnick staring at you from the corner of your eye. You lick your lips, tasting the salt of the water, before pressing them together. When you look at him, the two of you stare for a long second.

You, Johanna and Finnick know what this means. If just one of the Three tributes had been killed, you could’ve used the other. With both of them being gone, it means that someone needs to pick up their job, and you were the one that was elected to do just that.

“What now?” Finnick asks you.

You tilt your head, eyes going out to the water, finding two of the four bodies. It’s got to be Wiress and Gloss, because they’d been right next to each other when they died. You lean your sword up against the Cornucopia before wandering forward, to the edge of the island.

Wiress is floating on her back, on her stomach sits the spool of wire, golden and shining in the sunlight. You begin to head down the sand strip closest to her body. “I want the wire.”

“What for?” Johanna asks, “That was his weapon, not yours.”

You look over your shoulder. “It has to be now, doesn’t it?”

Johanna makes a face, but it’s not one of doubt. She knows that you’re right, that’s why she won’t bother to argue. Not that she would, anyway. You and Johanna get along, basically two peas in the same pod. She just likes Finnick more, because he puts up with her bullshit.

You jog as close as you can get to Wiress’s body, before diving in the warm water. It’s a nice break from the sun, even if it is for a minute. It doesn’t take long to get to her body, prying the coil from her fingers. You’re about to swim away, when you hesitate, closing her eyes.

Finnick is waiting for you on the strip when you get back to it. You place the wire on the rock, and he reaches down to help you up. Your face twists, but you take his hand, letting him help. The moment you’re on both feet, he pulls you close, a rough hand on your shoulder as he pulls you close to speak in your ear.

“If you can’t do this, you need to tell me. I’ll figure something else out.” Finnick harshly whispers.

You jerk back, squinting at him. “Worry about yourself.” 

As you stoop to grab the wire, Finnick shakes his head. “I mean it, (Y/n).”

“And so do I.” You tell him, lowering your voice. “There’s a reason why Haymitch trusted me with this, and not you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “We’re back to this, huh?”

You scoff loudly. “You’re the one that’s upset by it, Finnick. So, here’s a fucking suggestion: deal with it.” You shake your head. “You’re so worried that I’m going to betray the alliance, that’s you’re forgetting that this is what I do.” You motion to the jungle with your free hand. “Enobaria and Brutus can run all they want, but we both know they’re going to have to come out eventually if they plan on finishing us off. And when they do, they’re going to get it.

“Not from you, not from Johanna, from me.” You seethe, moving around Finnick to head back up to the Cornucopia. You throw your hands up, one of them still holding the wire. “Face it, Finnick, I’ve got this handled.”

You turn around, finding that your three other allies have their eyes on you. You ignore them, watching where you place your feet. On the island, you retrieve your sword, dropping the wire onto a box. Finnick is a few feet behind you, wearing a hard expression.

You hate it when you have to talk to him like that, but you can’t do it any other way if you want him to listen to you. It’s like he doesn’t care unless you’re being hostile, except that tone of voice has him on edge, afraid that you’re going to flip a switch.

There is no happy medium. It’s like he’s dead-set on thinking that you’re an unlikable person. You wouldn’t have minded having an actual conversation between you, Finnick and Johanna to figure out a plan together. It’s his fault that he decided to take the situation into his own hands by assuming that you wouldn’t have the ability to fill Beetee’s shoes.

It makes you mad, so now you’re going to take care of it by yourself. As much as he wants you to ask for help, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you don’t need him. Or the others, for that matter.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says once Finnick has joined the group.

You dig through the weapons in the Cornucopia, looking for a pair of knives that aren’t too short. The only ones that are available are displayed on the wall in the very back. They’re slightly curved, not too heavy. They’ll work just fine.

You watch as Peeta, Finnick and Johanna start in three different directions.

You stand next to Katniss, watching this. When they realize that no one is following them, they stop.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss tells him. “Any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

You tuck the knives in your belt, as you circle the Cornucopia with them to try and find the path that’ll lead to the twelve beach. Only, the jungle is perfectly replicated in every section, down to the last tree. Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s path, but it’s been washed away.

Katniss stops. “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“For now.” You murmur. “We still have the wave at ten to tell us, we’ll be back on track after that.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s growing impatient, wanting to move. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless. Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

You let them decide which strip to take to the beach. Katniss and Peeta begin to lead the way. You grab the wire, motioning for Johanna and Finnick to go next, but they don’t budge. You roll your eyes and duck your head, putting a good distance between you and Peeta before you walk.

“What’s the plan?” Johanna’s voice sounds far, and she’s trying to be quiet, but there’s not enough going on for it to conceal her.

“She says she’ll handle it.” Finnick murmurs, you can’t tell if he’s mad or not.

“That’s it?” She asks, “It looked like she was yelling at you.”

“She did.” He says. “She told me to worry about myself, and she’ll handle Enobaria and Brutus.”

Johanna doesn’t speak right away. “Do you trust her?”

“No, but I trust her anger.” He tells her. “She’s right, this is what she does best.”

“So, you want to follow behind her?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Finnick shoots back.

“No.” Johanna sighs.

When you get to the jungle, they look inside of it, trying to figure out if there’s anything waiting inside or not. When you can’t see any immediate threats, they relax.

“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects. “I’ll at least watch your back.”

“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up, yanking off a large leaf to hand to him. “(Y/n) can stay with us, while she figures out what to do with the wire.”

You drop it in the sand, along with your sword, as you sit down. Peeta crouches beside you, beginning to make his map, again. As you watch him draw the slices, your mind begins to wander. 

Katniss and Peeta are the Careers’ focus. They want to target the ones with the highest scores first, and then work their way down. If they take out a few of you in the process, then that’s great, but they’re afraid of what the Twelve tributes could’ve possibly done in order to get a perfect score.

It was a little odd for Gloss to go for Wiress, if this is the case. And Cashmere wasn’t able to kill anybody before she died. You guess she might have been going for Katniss, but Johanna was in between them, she wasn’t going to make it that far. That’s why Brutus tried to get Peeta with the spear, and maybe the knife was originally aimed for Peeta, not Beetee?

You just can’t wrap your head around their strategy of getting rid of the Three tributes. Were Enobaria and Brutus that worried about you guys coming up with a plan to use the explosives on the tribute platforms? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in the Games, it’s just a stupid idea to do it in the water, when you have nothing to steady yourself on.

Either way, you need to figure out a way to draw them in. If there’s anything you know for sure, it’s that they’ll wait until dark to attack again, because they’ll have cover. It’s only the two of them now, which means they won’t attack the five of you all together, they’ll get overpowered in seconds. They’ll wait until you split up.

You play with the wire, twisting it between your fingers while you think.

If they send another twenty-four rolls from District Three tonight, you’ll have no choice but to go into the jungle for the lightning section, because that’s where they’ll be rescuing you out of the arena. You would just say that you should go up to the lightning tree and wait, except you won’t know what time it is until ten, like you said.

When the wave does it, you’ll have two hours to get to the tree. After that, Katniss and Peeta will have to get split up long enough to get the tracker out of their arms. That’ll be the perfect time to kill Enobaria and Brutus, too.

You just need a reason for them to split up. Johanna’s already agreed to getting it out of Katniss’s arm, which left Peeta for Finnick. You need some sort of placebo plan in the meantime, something for them to focus on to keep their minds off of the fact that the situation is going to be very, very suspicious.

“That’s it.” Peeta says, sitting back. “I don’t—”

A scream cuts through the still air, silencing him. You whip around to look back at the jungle, unsure of whether or not it belongs to Katniss. As you get to your feet, sword in your hand, you can hear another voice, shouting back. That one sounds like Katniss.

“What’s happening?” Peeta asks.

You get to your feet before he does, pulling the sword into your hand as you break through the jungle, swinging at any leaves in your way. “I think we chose the wrong section.”

“It’s supposed to be the monkey mutts right now, how can it be anything else?” Peeta asks.

Your face twists as you look over your shoulder, finding that Johanna’s eyes have rolled back as far as she can get them. “Because it’s the next hour?” She snarks.

Peeta doesn’t respond. For a moment, you’re genuinely concerned that the forcefield on the first day might have fried his brain a lot more than you thought. When you begin to think of all the decisions he’s made over these past couple of days, you relax. It’s not really out of his nature to say something stupid once in a while.

You’re about twenty yards into the jungle when you stop suddenly, sword at your side, eyes scanning the trees above. When Johanna and Peeta finally pause, you realize just how quiet it is out here.

Johanna takes a step or two forward, coming to stand next to you, looking up at the tree branches. She covers her eyes with one hand, squinting. “There’s no birds.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” You tell her, your normal voice feels too loud. “There’s not even insects.”

“What are you thinking?” She asks, looking at you.

“I feel like it’s too early to be the beast, because the sun was down further yesterday.” 

She nods. “A new hour.”

“That doesn’t explain why it’s so quiet.” Peeta says.

“Could be something in the trees.” You tell him, turning your body to face him. “That’s why I don’t want to go further in.”

“But Katniss and Finnick are in there.” Peeta shakes his head. “We have to.”

“Don’t you think they would’ve called for help by now?” You ask, “We heard Katniss say something, but then she stopped.”

“And they can’t be dead because there’s no cannon.” Johanna says after. “What if they’re hurt?”

You look further into the jungle. “It’s a bad idea.”

“We have to try.” Peeta says, starting toward the two of you.

You move in time to let him pass without running into your shoulder. He makes it an additional five yards before he walks smack into a wall, head bouncing off. A little smile fights its way onto your face, and then it vanishes when you realize that this is exactly what happened when he hit the forcefield.

He reaches out, going to touch it. You stride forward, grabbing the back of the neck of his undershirt, yanking him back. “Are you stupid?”

“Wait.” He swats your hand free. “Watch.”

You grab his wrist when he holds his hand out again, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”

“Then do it yourself.” Peeta motions, you let go. “It would’ve blown me back if it was a forcefield. Besides, it’s too far down.”

You look at space in front of you, seemingly fine. The wall that he’d run into isn’t even visible. You take in a breath, holding it, before sticking your hand out in the direction of it.

The palm of your hand vibrates against it, you apply pressure, wondering if it’ll budge if you lean into it, but it doesn’t move. You look down at your sword, pressing your lips together. If this is a forcefield, this will most definitely kill you. Still, you swing the sword into the invisible wall, and you’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t explode into sparks upon contact.

“Well…” You trail off, beginning to walk around the wall, keeping one hand on it. No matter where you touch, or how far along you walk, the wall doesn’t stop. You make it into the next section of the jungle, and around the corner, and still feel it there. When you make it back to Johanna and Peeta, you shake your head. “Sealed.”

“They’re inside?” Peeta asks. “Do you think they can hear us?”

“I’m going to say no.” Johanna grunts, swinging her axe into the wall repeatedly. “If we can’t hear the birds,” Her voice is strained, “Then we can’t hear them.” She stops, tossing the axe aside, it lands next to a bush. She sighs, “I guess we’re going to wait out here.”

Peeta doesn’t like this idea, you can tell by the way his face screws up, but he knows you don’t have any other choice. 

“I’m going to grab the wire, then.” You tell her.

“Speaking of it, come up with anything yet?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Almost.” You say, walking away from her.

When you get to the beach and find the wire, you don’t go back into the jungle right away. You stand beneath a patch of shade, staring at the Cornucopia, and the trees beyond it, squinting.

From what you can tell, Enobaria and Brutus aren’t on the beach or in the treeline, which means that they’re in those trees, somewhere. They must be fairly far in, where they’re resting. They likely won’t come out again until they’ve been sponsored and their wounds are healing. And even then, they’ll make sure you’re not on the beach, first.

Or maybe they are able to see you, and you just can’t see them.

If you were in their shoes, you’d be watching your every move right now to figure out what you’re doing. And if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter what you do with this wire, they’ll already know the plan. Really, it would just be an excuse to split Katniss and Peeta.

So, that’s what it’ll be.

The wire could be used for a number of things, you could probably make a trap out of it. There’s enough of it for you to bring it to the tree and back down to the beach, twice. The question is what Beetee would have used it for.

You close your eyes, listening to the waves on the beach, trying to remember how Beetee won his Games. You were talking to Mags about it the other day, she was telling you that it’s been thirty years since he won. Back then, he wasn’t the strongest tribute either, he had to make something to electrocute the last remaining tributes.

He wouldn’t really be able to do that now. He had the sources—the lightning at midnight and the water at the center. In the condition he was in before he got killed, he wouldn’t have been able to make the trip up to the tree, back down to the water, and up again to be out of the way of the electricity. And the chances of the wire being cut by the Careers isn’t that low, even in your situation now.

You’d need someone at the base of the tree, and someone unspooling the wire down to the water…

Your eyes pop open, it takes them a second to adjust to the sudden light. You stare at the water. This is what Beetee was going to do, wasn’t it? The wire acts as a conductor. If you hook it up to the tree at the right time when it strikes, it’ll fry everything in the water.

But what you want is to kill the Careers, in a way. The sand would have to be wet too, or at least damp. Which… Which will be the exact case when the wave hits at ten, and it’ll be cooler out, so the water won’t evaporate as quickly. If you bury the spool in the sand, it should have the entire beach covered and the water.

“Bingo.” You say, grabbing the coil.

You join the others back inside of the jungle, finding Peeta on the floor, forehead pressed to the invisible wall. Johanna’s pacing back and forth, arms crossed over her chest. When you get closer, you’re able to see that Katniss and Finnick are on the other side, both of them with their hands over their ears.

When a twig snaps beneath your weight, Johanna looks over. She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “What took you so long?”

“Came up with a plan.” You tell her, dropping the wire and your sword next to one of her axes. 

“What plan?” Peeta asks, unmoving.

“On how to kill the remaining Careers.” You wink at Johanna, but it’s not flirtatious.

You know she understands when the crease appears between her eyebrows, giving you a slight nod. “Care to enlighten us?”

“When they’re out, I will. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” You nod at the other two. “What’s going on in there?”

“I think it’s jabberjays.” Johanna says, pointing up at the trees behind the wall. “They’re fifty of them in the trees. Katniss tried killing them, of course it didn’t work.”

Your eyes land on Finnick, finding his muscles rigid. You crouch to get a better look at his face, there’s a streak of red from his nose, down his lips, and off his chin. “What happened to Finnick?”

“He ran face-first into the wall.” Peeta says. “It was a bloody nose.”

You hum, lowering yourself to the ground. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer.”

—

The wall suddenly breaks, Peeta falling forward. He catches himself on his hands, getting to his feet. He doesn’t even say anything, just scoops Katniss into his arms, and walks straight out of the jungle with her, leaving the arrows behind.

You sit up, looking over at Johanna to see that she’s staring at you. She tilts her head, “Do you want to try?”

You take in a breath, “I’ll let you know if it works.”

She nods, following after Katniss and Peeta, because someone needs to be watching over them. You get up, walking a few feet over to Finnick, before crouching down beside him. 

You lift a hand, hovering it over his back for a minute, and then change your mind, placing your elbows on your thighs to lean on them. He’s got his eyes closed, head down. He probably can’t even hear you. You don’t even know how he’ll react to being touched, much less by you.

You press your lips together, heart hurting at the sight of him. It’d be better if Johanna were here, she can talk to him. All you’ll do is upset him more. You grind your teeth, once again wishing that this wasn’t your relationship. As you go to stand up, the hands over his ears loosen, head beginning to lift.

He looks around in the jungle first, making sure the threat is gone. That’s when he notices you beside him, waiting. His eyes are watery, he swallows.

“Hey,” You murmur, “Are you okay?”

He stares at you, eyebrows drawing in.

You nod, “I’ll go get Johanna.”

Once again, you try to get to your feet, when he speaks, “Why?”

“Why… what?” You ask, pausing.

“Why would you get Johanna?” He asks.

You turn your head in the direction of the beach. Is he really going to make you say it? Does he want to see the pain it’ll cause you? Or does he think it’ll come out venomous?

When you look at him, you sigh, “Because I’m not really a comforting person to you, am I?”

He doesn’t answer your question, “Where are they?”

“They’re on the beach.” You tell him. “I figured out a plan that’ll work. I’ll tell you guys when you’re ready.”

“Do Johanna and Peeta know?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No.”

Neither of you move, staring at each other. And while you could stay here forever, you don’t allow yourself. You push on your knees, standing up. You offer your hand to him, but he moves it away, just like you figured he would.

He doesn’t say anything, walking past you to leave. You stare at the scene of dead birds in front of you, before you turn around, collecting yours and Johanna’s belongings, and going to join them on the beach. 

Katniss seems better, she’s talking to Peeta. Johanna is standing over them, she glances at Finnick when he passes by. She has to twist her body to see you standing in the treeline. You hand her the axe.

“It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.” Peeta says.

“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.

“I really do.” 

“Do you believe it, Finnick?” 

“It could be true. I don’t know.” He says, looking up at Johanna, ignoring you entirely. “Could they do that? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”

Johanna makes a face, looking at you for help. You play with the piece of wire you’d unraveled, “I’m sure Beetee would know.”

“Peeta’s right.” Johanna then says. “The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on her hands.” She deadpans. “Don’t want that, do they?” She scoffs, throwing her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”

She shakes her head, wandering around the beach to pick up shells. When she finds a good few, she stops next to Finnick, holding her hand out. “I’m getting water.” Finnick drops the spile into her hand, and she begins toward the jungle.

Katniss grabs her hand. “Don’t go in there. The birds—”

“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love.” She says, shaking her hand free. You don’t miss the look she gives Finnick, and then you, as she disappears into the jungle. 

She comes back a couple minutes later with a shell of water, handing it over to Katniss first. She makes trips back and forth, letting each of you have some. She comes out one trip with a pile of arrows that she gives back to Katniss.

Finnick shakes his head, walking to the water. He stops a few feet in, and sits. You let the wire drop to the sand, tired of bringing it wherever you go. You don’t move from where you are, eyes fixated on his back.

“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks, curious.

Katniss is quiet. You’re expecting her to say Annie, because it makes the most sense, but when you look over, she’s eyeing you, and so is Peeta. 

“What?” You ask. “Was it Annie?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Katniss murmurs. “We thought we heard you.”

A loud laugh comes from you, unwarranted. The thought of Finnick caring about you enough for the Gamemakers to use you against him is funny. Really funny, actually. It must’ve been a walk in the park for him, listening to your pleas. A little gratifying, because he could pretend that you were getting what was coming for you.

But Katniss isn’t laughing, she’s serious. 

The humor leaves your smile, “It must’ve been his mother, that he was mistaken for me.”

“No, because we heard his mom, too. That first scream was yours.” She insists, “And he dropped everything to find you.”

“Finnick would never do that.” You tell her, voice cold. 

She doesn’t press it further, but the look in her eye is enough. She’s not lying to you, she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t gain anything from making something like that up.

You won’t believe it though. This is the same Finnick that told Johanna that he didn’t trust you, an hour and a half ago. There’s nothing that could’ve made him change his feelings in that time span.

Unless it didn’t.

Your eyes narrow at the back of Finnick’s head, hand tightening around your sword. 

A cannon blast keeps you from thinking about the subject any further, but the bubbling in your stomach is only getting hotter. Finnick gets up, coming to join you three, as well as Johanna, materializing out of the jungle. You stand together, watching a hovercraft appear over the next section, claw dipping in several times to retrieve all the pieces of one body. 

The beast.

This sparks Peeta to create another map, this time he’s able to fill in more than half of it. It starts with lightning, rain, and fog. It moves on to monkeys and jabberjays. He has to skip a section, and then writes beast. And the next one you have after six to seven is the wave at ten. This means you’re missing five of the other hours. 

The others begin to come back to life. Finnick begins to weave a water basket and a net to fish for dinner. While Katniss takes a swim and applies more ointment. By the time she’s done, Finnick has worked up a pile, so she sits on the edge of the water, cleaning them for him. 

It doesn’t take long for Katniss’s words to creep back into your mind, refusing to leave it be. Finnick cares about you, a thought that should have you excited, but it makes you uncomfortable. He has spent the last eight years making sure that you know that he hates you and couldn’t care less about what happens to you.

Yet here he is, supposedly dropping everything to save you. Possibly even leaving Katniss behind to do it. The Gamemakers must know something that you don’t, if they knew to use your voice. You want to assume that they thought Finnick was worried solely because you’re his district partner. Except, that doesn’t make sense either, because the two of you are notorious in the Capitol for being a pair of mentors that get into fights about how to handle things.

He has a lot of nerve.

The sun falls below the horizon, the moon rising to replace it in the sky. When they finish cleaning the fish, they bring it over, setting it in the middle of the circle for you to enjoy. The four of them begin to settle in the sand, you don’t move from where you stand.

The anthem begins to play, stopping them from digging in. The Capitol seal lights up the sky, and then it’s replaced by the faces. Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, Beetee. The woman from Five, the morphling from Six, Blight, and the man from Ten. 

Eight tributes dead.

Strangely, this makes you think of your own Hunger Games. Where you managed to kill four people in the span of two hours, one of those being Rio, who was your district partner. By the end of the Games, you had eight kills under your belt. A third of the competition was taken out by you, a little fifteen year-old.

Once again, a factor that used to make Finnick sick. And now it doesn’t.

“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.

“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.

“Chaff.” Peeta says without missing a beat.

The sound of clinking fills the air, you look up to find a parachute coming down, teetering from side to side. It lands perfectly in the middle of the group, unfolding itself to reveal the steaming rolls.

“Do these look like District Three to you?” Finnick looks at Johanna.

“Yeah, look at the imprint.” She says, running her finger over the top of one. “How many are there?”

Finnick counts them, being sure to be thorough. “Twenty-four. How should we divide them?”

“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, causing Katniss to laugh.

You pull your sword out of the sand, swinging it up to rest the flat part of the blade on your shoulder. Finnick looks up at you, eyeing your stance. You step away from them, shaking your head.

“Sit down, (Y/n).” Finnick tells you.

“Why, so you can keep an eye on me?” You snap, crossing the treeline. “Come and get me, Finnick.”

You make it a few feet in, before you hear the snapping of branches behind you. You sigh, turning with raised eyebrows to see that Finnick took it as a challenge. You didn’t mean it that way. You didn’t want him to chase you.

“Get out here.” He tells you.

You walk backward, tilting your head at him. “I’m just making sure Enobaria and Brutus aren’t out here.”

“I don’t care.” He’s still walking toward you. “We’ll worry about that when we make camp.”

You stop, letting your sword down from your shoulder. When you look past him, you can see that there’s enough distance between him and the beach. There’s privacy to talk and sort out what you heard.

Your eyes land on him, “Katniss told me something,” You start, watching his eyebrows twitch, “About how you thought I was the one screaming for help.”

Finnick shakes his head, “I thought it was my mom.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” You tell him, “But you said my name, and you dropped everything to go and get me.”

He sets his jaw, “So?”

“So,” The word is bitter, “What changed?”

He laughs, “Nothing, (Y/n). I went—”

“They used loved ones and family.” You cut him off. “You care about me, admit it.”

“I don’t.” He tells you. “I never have, and I never will.”

“You chased after the jabberjays thinking it was me, and you followed me in here because you’re worried that I’ll get caught by the Careers, admit it.”

“I don’t know what you think is happening, but whatever it is, it’s not true.” His voice wavers.

This is all the confirmation you need. “You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” You press your pointer finger to the middle of his chest. “That you’re not bothered by me anymore, and you haven’t been for a while. You’ve done a damn good job of hiding it up until now, but the jabberjays got you good.”

Finnick grabs your wrist, “That’s not true.”

“What changed, Finnick?” You insist.

“Nothing, because I don’t have feelings for you.” He snaps. “The reason why I came in here is because we want to move camp to the ten sector once the wave happens, I just didn’t want you to get lost out here and think we abandoned you, making you think it’s a free-for-all.”

He lets go of your wrist, face screwed tightly, as he leaves you here. You watch him go back to the beach, while you take several breaths, feeling the pit in your stomach grow.

What have you done?

---

this is part of my 3k celebration!!

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Yandere!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; basically a forced pregnancy ; late term pregnancy complications ; Minho is like, the worlds worst narcissist in this ; let me know if there's more ; Word Count : 6.9k A/N : The amount of research that I did for this one is crazy, but I also learned a lot so... building knowledge while writing fanfic is a plus! This request has been in my ask box for probably over a year and a half now, so... I hope that whoever requested it... I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was supposed to end WAY worse... But you all weren't ready to be sucker punched with sadness, so...) Request : Anonny : Pregnant with yandere leeknow/ yandere leeknow as dad Aaaangst

In The Beginning…

“Minho…” You called timidly from the bedroom, the way you called for him was about the same volume as when someone would talk regularly to a friend. When you spoke it was nothing more than a mouse-like whisper, always scared of what would happen if you raised your voice a little too much. Your doting boyfriend came into the bedroom, his hair tousled and wet from his shower, his eyes always seeming to carry a seductive look, dark and hungry for you at all times. “M-Minho…” You spoke his name again, this time more nervous now that he was standing in front of you. 

A chuckle built in his chest as he sauntered over to you, water wrinkled fingers that were warmer from the hot water he had been standing under, trailed across your cheek, one finger slipping under your chin to tilt your head up as he towered over you. “Mm? What do you need, darling? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I know that last night was quite… exerting for you…” He teased, and you felt your body heat up at the mention of the sinful activities you had taken part in the night before. 

“Uhm… n-no…” You stammered, blinking a few times as you seemed to lose your train of thought constantly when he was standing so close to you, looking at you as if you were a delicious meal that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “We… We didn’t use protection and… Usually you’d get me a… a plan B pill and… I just was wondering if you had gone and… and gotten it by now?” You were always so nervous around him, still not quite sure what made him tick. One second he was happy, or at least he seemed happy, and then the next he was going through an outburst that had you locking yourself in the bathroom until he came to the door apologizing and giving you the same spiel that he would never do it again. You hated when things got like that, you tried to avoid getting him to that point at all costs. 

“I decided you don’t need it anymore.” Minho spoke nonchalantly, as if he was the one who could make that decision for you. Your mouth opened to protest, and he stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything that would give him a reason to lash out. It’s like he wanted a reason, he wanted to go off on you, like he enjoyed seeing you scared, enjoyed being the hypocritical hero when he comforted you after making you cry. “Think about how wonderful it would be, to have a part of me growing inside of you… you’d be mine, all mine. You’ll never leave me…” His hands moved down to your stomach, as if there was already something in there. “I’ll pick up tests in about 2 weeks, I want to be right here when you take them and read the results.”

The First Signs…

Sitting at the dining room table, the chicken still in your mouth after you had taken a bite, an awful sensation washed over you. A sort of sickness that you couldn’t fight back, and an urge to throw up that you couldn’t breathe your way through as you usually would. “Mm’scuse me…” You mumbled through the palm of your hand that was clasped over your mouth as you ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, not even bothering to lock it as your body practically folded over the toilet. 

“Darling…” Minhos soft cooing from the other side of the door had goosebumps forming on your skin. When he cracked the door open, you could see a rather excited smile beginning to spread across his face. “Are you alright?” The juxtaposition of his expression and his words made your head reel. He looked too happy for someone who had just watched their girlfriend throw up all of their dinner. You nodded your head in response, making sure the contents of your stomach were cleared out before taking a few steps to the sink and washing your face and then rinsing your mouth out with water. “I thought you loved that chicken… Hmm, I wonder why it would make you sick all of a sudden…” 

He stepped into the bathroom fully now that you were done being ill, the nausea seeming to be completely gone now, as if it hadn’t been there at all. You knew exactly what he was insinuating, and while it might seem that way, you weren’t ready to accept that it could be what he was thinking, you didn’t want to accept it. “I think they just changed the frying oil or something…” You excused, dabbing at your lips with a bit of toilet paper before exiting the bathroom, Minho right in tow. You couldn’t be pregnant, that would make him all the possessive, all the more obsessive and overbearing. You wouldn’t be able to ever leave, not that you were able to do that now anyway, but it would be so much worse. You probably wouldn’t even be able to look at the windows without him lecturing you. No… pregnancy wasn’t an option for you. 

As you stood at the sink, getting a glass of water from the tap to wash out the taste, Minho stood behind you, his hands placed gently on your stomach. It was the softest he had ever touched you, but you knew that it wasn’t exactly for you, it was for the little demon spawn that he assumed was inside of you. “Does my baby not like the fried chicken? Hmm? Whatever you want, daddy will get it for you… As long as your mommy tells me.” How could he sound so sweet? It was gag inducing, how he pretended to be so caring when he was practically trying to hold you hostage using a potential child. 

The next days were the same, the sudden nausea not even having the common courtesy to creep up on you, instead, hitting you full force, barely allotting you enough time to run to the bathroom or the trash bin to vomit. It didn’t matter what you ate, each day at the same exact time, it was always the same. You could see the light in Minhos eyes growing brighter each time it happened, but you were in denial, and you quite liked being in that state. You didn’t want to accept that there was a very real, very high possibility that you were now carrying his spawn. “I must be coming down with something…” You mumbled, resting your head in the palm of your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept in days. It was another sign, another symptom, you knew that, but you hoped that Minho would overlook it. 

“Well it has been 2 weeks, more than that actually, my darling.” The smile that he was was nothing short of sinister as he ran to the bathroom and returned with two boxes in his hands. You knew this time was coming, you had been dreading it, hoping that you would get your period at any moment now. It never came though, and you were terrified of what the tests would undoubtedly reveal once you took them. “I’m sure taking them would answer a lot of your questions… Here…” He slid the boxes across the table, but you refused to even look at them, instead staring out the window, trying your best to block out everything that he was saying. You didn’t want to be pregnant, not by him at least. How could you even be happy bringing a child into this type of lifestyle? “Darling…” He murmured the pet name softly, but rough hands suddenly gripped your chin, turning your attention to him fully. “Take the tests. Now.” 

You huffed loudly, pushing yourself away from the table and snatching the boxes up before rushing to the bathroom. You knew well enough that if you didn’t get there in time and lock the door, he’d probably try to come in and watch you take them just to make sure you weren’t fabricating the results. It would have been a good idea, but you knew he’d notice. There was no way you could just run the test under the sink water and pretend they were negative. It’s not like he’d let you go if they were anyway, he’d just keep trying and trying… and once you started showing… He’d probably be more pissed off that you lied to him. 

“You’re taking quite a while in there… Do you need help?” The question was genuine, but you glared at the door, knowing that he wouldn’t see it. It was the only time you could make those kinds of faces at him without being reprimanded for it. The tests laid on the back of the toilet seat, and much to your dismay, the second line showed up faster and darker than you ever expected it to. “Fuck!” You thought to yourself as you unlocked the bathroom door and flung it open, slipping past him as he rushed in. He was too preoccupied with being excited over the tests to focus on you, at least for right now. All you wanted to do was sleep and hopefully wake up from the nightmare that you had been living in for the last 3 years. 

The First Trimester… 

There was no bond forming. For the most part, you tried to forget that you were pregnant at all. It was easier during this stage. Other than the nausea and the exhaustion and the slight pulling and pinching sensations you’d feel in your lower back and upper thighs, all things that you could write off as any other reason, you didn’t feel pregnant. You were still in denial, you didn’t want this. Minho wanted this, and he was the only one happy about it. This was the happiest you had seen him though, he was absolutely elated, but he was also overly protective, which was becoming a real pain in the ass. 

“I can get dressed on my own.” You muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to help you pull down your shirt after you had just put it on. “I really don’t like the hovering, it’s making me uncomfortable.” Were you allowed to be honest with him now? Would he excuse it as your hormones going crazy because of the baby? He wouldn’t yell at you, right? Not when you were in such a fragile state. He reached out further, grabbing your wrists, rather tightly, and pulled you towards him. Of course, he wouldn’t dare try to be so rough anywhere around your stomach, but everywhere else was still fair game. 

“You’re carrying my child, and as long as you are, I can hover as much as I like.” He hissed, and even though you didn’t like his tone, you were grateful that he wasn’t yelling. “I know you don’t want it. You’d probably be overjoyed if you miscarried. I won’t allow that to happen though, so just be good for me, let me help.” His expression immediately shifted, his head tilting to the side as the most innocent looking smile had his teeth flashing up at you. It was like whiplash, it made your head hurt. “So what would my babies like to eat today, hmm? Are you craving anything in particular?” He cooed, although his attention was still primarily focused on your stomach. 

Any other woman would want a man like him, a man that treated them this way and got this excited to find out they were pregnant. Any other woman could have him and all of his psychopathic tendencies. “I’m craving a nap.” You snapped, and you watched his nostrils flare out at your disobedient tone, but he didn’t say anything, instead getting off the bed and yanking the covers back for you, waiting for you to climb onto the mattress before carelessly throwing them back over your body. “Thank you.” You mumbled, rolling over onto your side so that your back was to him, tucking the covers around your chin and squeezing your eyes shut. It wasn’t just the raging hormones that tired you out, it was Minho too, him more than anything honestly. Living with him, well, no, not living, being stuck with him, was the most exhausting thing ever. 

“I’ll wake you up for your vitamins and for lunch.” He said sternly, more like a strict caregiver than the father of your unborn child. You hated him. You hated that he did this to you, that he chose you to be the object of all of his desires. Why did he choose you? He still hadn’t told you why, he just insisted that you were the one that he wanted. Now you were carrying his child, and you feared that you’d truly be stuck with him forever. What did you do to deserve that? 

The Second Trimester…

Most women would get an ultrasound at around 9 weeks. However, you had yours at 20 weeks. You didn’t go to a doctors office, instead, Minho had the doctors come to you. Even still, he didn’t want you leaving the house. Before the doctor was even allowed to see you, he had to sign an NDA, with Minhos reasoning being that he was an idol, and he didn’t want the public to know about his fiancées current condition. You still didn’t know when you had gotten engaged, but apparently it had happened at some point before the doctor's arrival. 

Seeing your baby on the screen made it impossible to deny that you truly were pregnant. It also made it hard for you to hate it as you during your entire first trimester. Was it truly the baby’s fault that their father was crazy? Did it’s fathers behavior make the baby inherently evil? No… of course it didn’t. The baby was still a part of you, and you were a good person. You wouldn’t allow your child to grow up to be like Minho. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said, pointing to the screen as if you’d understand what you were being shown, but Minho was mesmerized by what he was seeing, his jaw slacked in awe. 

“That’s my daughter… Our daughter? Really? Is she healthy?” It was Minho asking all the questions that most women in your position would be asking. You were too caught up in your own thoughts though. A baby girl, you were carrying his daughter. She’d be more like you, right? Maybe having a daughter would change the way he is, he’d become normal, a man that you could actually love and welcome having a family with. He wouldn’t want his own daughter to be with a man like himself, right? 

The doctor turned up the volume on the little tv, a rapid pulsing sound filled the room, both you and Minho were silent as you listened. “She’s healthy, very healthy.” The doctor said, smiling to both you and Minho. You were… happy. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the screen, watching the baby squirm around, and you couldn’t wait to be able to feel her moving beneath your skin. “I’ll print out the pictures and then be on my way. I’d like to make another appointment for next month though, make sure she continues growing the way she should. I also want some bloodwork from you…” He motioned towards you, and you swallowed thickly, looking at Minho who looked slightly annoyed at the doctor's pushiness. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong, we just like to make sure that there’s no underlying problems. Better to be safe, right?” 

His words had you tensing up, your hands moving down to your stomach, rubbing over the small swell that had begun to form as your daughter grew bigger. “Why… Why would there be underlying problems? What could be wrong?” You squeaked out, not wanting to look up at the doctor, worried that his expression would give you a silent answer, one that you were scared to know. Minho was still, like a statue, only his eyes moving between you and the doctor, but there was no answer, just a soft sigh and a gentle tapping against your hand to try to calm you. The gesture was supposed to make you feel better, but you heard Minhos teeth gritting together. 

“It’s just precautionary. This is your first appointment since you’ve gotten pregnant. It’s to make sure both you and the baby are healthy and that there are no problems now or in the future. From what I see though, you and your daughter are perfectly fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Your hand was held lightly by the doctor who offered you a reassuring smile, but before you could thank him, Minho was, quite rudely, ushering him out of the room and shutting the door. On the other side of the door, in the hallway, you could hear Minhos aggrivated voice, low enough that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you could feel it, reverberating through the walls and the floorboards. He was talking so fast that the doctor didn’t have a chance to speak, and before you knew it, the front door was slammed shut and then Minho was storming back into the bedroom. 

“Touching you… Holding your hand… Who the fuck is that guy?!” Minho growled as he shut the door behind himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the door. “You don’t need any more fucking doctors. You were doing just fine without them. There’s nothing else we need to know anyway. Our daughter is healthy and that’s what matters. There’s no need to have some touchy ass fuckwad coming in here, looking at you… Ugh!” You could see the heat radiating off of him, he was beyond angry, he was absolutely irate, and while you didn’t want to push him any further, what the doctor had said prompted you to speak up. 

“Min… Honey…” It was an attempt to soften him up, you never called him that, not unless you were trying to get him to agree to something. Most of the time it never worked, but it at least would keep him from going off as rashly as he would without the pet name. “What if there is a… a problem… I think we both should know. We don’t need to keep him as our doctor… We can find someone else… But I think the bloodwork is important.” You sat up on the bed, trying to get a better look at him, trying to read his expression, but he was completely blank. “Minho…” You tried to get his attention, unaware that you already had it fully and he was just deep in thought. 

“No…” His hand was held out, one finger up to silence you as a chuckle was huffed out of his parted lips, his breaths coming faster and faster as he pushed himself away from the door. “I know what you’re doing. I know what this is…” The pet name didn’t work, nothing would work, he was already angry as it was and you were simply making things worse. “You want him to come back… You want him to take you away from me. That’s what you want. I know you! You’ve wanted nothing but to leave since you’ve been with me! He can’t have my fucking daughter! And he sure as hell can’t have you!” He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and holding your face between his hands. It wasn’t exactly painful, maybe you were numb to the pain it might have caused at first, but now you just found it annoying. “What do I need to do to make you stay!?” He shouted, his breath fanning across your face with every word. It’s like he was using all of the air in his lungs to enunciate every syllable. 

“Minho, stop it.” You whispered, knowing that the wrong word, a wrong look, saying it in a way that he didn’t like, it would only have him spiraling deeper and he’d drag you right along with him. “Please… h-honey look at me… I’m not trying to leave you… I just want to know that me and the baby are healthy, that there’s nothing wrong. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us… I want her… Honey, I want a family with you…” Sure, you were really sugarcoating it to try to get him to calm down, but you also really needed to know that everything would be okay. The last thing you wanted was for something to happen to you and him blame your daughter for the rest of his life or vice versa. 

His hands dropped down to your shoulders, his body now shuddering, although you didn’t know if it was because he was about to cry or if he was just shaking with anger. It was always hard to gauge his reactions or how he was truly feeling. It had you on edge all the time, and you felt like a tiny rodent, cornered by a feral cat. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you…” He mumbled, his head hung low, his hair curtaining his face. “Stupid fucking doctor, putting that shit in your head, scaring my darling…” This wasn’t what you wanted, his anger once again shifted towards the doctor who was just trying to do his job. “Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you and our baby?” You shook your head, of course he wouldn’t let something happen to either of you, not because he cared, but because he couldn’t fathom the thought of not owning you anymore. “You’ll be just fine, darling. You’re overthinking what that jackass said.” And with that, it’s like all of the anger washed away, a sudden wave of calmness rinsing him clean of the negativity. “Let’s get something to eat. My girls are hungry, aren’t they?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before shifting off of you and off of the bed, grabbing your hand and carefully helping you up to your feet. The sudden shift had you feeling dizzy, but it was welcome, at least he wasn’t yelling at you. 

The Third Trimester… 

Something was wrong, although you weren’t sure what it was. The ongoing nausea, the headaches, the blurred vision, you knew there was a problem. All you could think of was the argument that you had almost 15 weeks ago, wanting to at least have bloodwork done to make sure you were okay, but of course Minho had denied you of the simple procedure. If anything happened to you, it would be his fault, but he wouldn’t look at it that way, no, it would be someone else’s fault, it always was whenever he fucked up. 

“Someone’s tired…” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom where you were still laying. It’s not that you were actually that tired, you just couldn’t move without feeling sick. When he pulled open the curtains, you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning loudly as the bright sun only amplified the raging headache you were already suffering through. “Sorry, darling. Can’t lay in bed all day. Gotta get you up and moving. Come on.” He yanked the covers back and his eyes landed on your feet which had become so swollen you could barely even fit them in your slippers anymore. “What happened?” He whispered, although there was a slight panic in his voice as he gently grabbed your ankle and lifted it, looking over the extremity for any signs of injury. 

“I think… I think…” You kept starting the sentence only to be left practically winded after only saying two words. “Problem…” You settled for one word, hoping that it would get your point across and that he’d take some kind of action. He blinked a few times, backing away from the bed, his hands running through his hair as he seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself. “Please…” You pleaded, your hands cradling your swollen stomach. If not to help you, at least to help your baby who he seemed to want more than anything. 

“Shut… Shut up! I’m thinking!” He screeched, suddenly pacing back and forth as his breaths came out sharply, sounding more like whistles as they came through pursed lips. “Why would you let this happen! What even… God dammit!” He shouted, his fist colliding with the wall in an act of frustration, and even though he was fully across the room, you jumped at the sudden act of violence. He would never hit you, no matter how mad he got he had never actually hit you, but when things got this bad, you always feared just how far he would go or how far gone he was. “What am I supposed to do?! Take you to the hospital?!” 

Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what he was supposed to do to keep both you and your daughter from potentially dying. “If I could just… have her… get her out… we could be… okay…” You said breathlessly, and he whipped around in your direction, his eyes wild and crazed. It truly seemed like he was losing his mind. “Min… I don’t want t-… to die… please…” You begged, the sudden onslaught of tears only making it harder to breathe. 

“Fuck! You think I want you to die!? You think I want that!?” He questioned, and soon his hands were back in his hair, tugging at the ends as he let out a loud scream. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it! It’s what you wanted to happen! You wanted to leave me so bad! You’d rather die than be with me!” He was once again blaming you, yelling at you for something that you didn’t even understand at the moment. You didn’t know what was happening, so why the hell was he attacking you for it? “Such a fucking bitch! God! Fuck! Get up!” You were being… belittled… insulted… cursed at for… dying? At least if you did die, you wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. You wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. But did you really want to leave your poor baby with someone like him? 

Getting up was a daunting task, it took you longer than it usually would just to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Every small movement made you feel like you had run a marathon, your breaths becoming more labored, your vision becoming spotty, and the urge to vomit became more of an oncoming threat as the bile from your otherwise empty stomach rose to your throat. There was no time to get to the bathroom, you weren’t even on your feet yet, and before you had any time to even warn Minho, you were doubled over, heaving up the acid that burned your throat on its way out. He watched, not coming close or helping you, but he watched, his lips parted and his eyes blinking rapidly as if what he was seeing wasn’t true. “Sorry…” The word was spoken in a single raspy breath, your head hung low with both shame, embarrassment, and pain. Your throat was scratchy now, and it felt like fire was being held against the back of it. Tears pricked your eyes and snot ran down your nose, stopping at your upper lip, and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe that away. 

“What happened…?” He asked, his voice once again soft, laced with the false tone of worry. It used to make you think he cared, but now you knew it was an act. It was all an act. “Let’s… Let’s go…” He said, his voice wavering. He truly didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to do this. It’s not like he had a choice though. You looked awful, like you were already standing at death's door, and that terrified him. He had seen you sick before, but he had never seen you like this. “C-Can you walk? Do you need… Uhm… Shit…” He was tripping over his words, but when he saw you try to get up on your own, he rushed over, his arm wrapping around you. 

Looking at you this close, he could see that your face was swollen too, and beads of sweat lingered on your forehead. “She hasn’t moved… Min… I’m- I’m scared…” You whimpered, and he pulled you closer to him, letting your body fall against his side, trying to take all of your weight as he walked you towards the front door. “Min…” You breathed out his name, your head falling against his shoulder. He hummed to let you know he heard you, grabbing everything he needed with one hand as he walked through your shared apartment. “If you have… to save any of us… save her… save the baby…” You wheezed, all of your weight falling against him, everything that he had been carrying was dropped immediately to catch you. 

“No… no no no! Stop talking like that! Stop it!” Minho shouted, his voice trembling from the sobs he tried to hold back. “I’m not losing either of you, dammit! I-…” He sniffled softly, and while your eyes had been closed the entire time, trying to block out the light that shone through the window in the living room, you could feel his eyes on you. “I love you… You know that, don’t you? I’m not… If anything happens…” The thought was stopped before he could get the words out, but you were stuck on the three words he had said prior. Love was such a strong emotion, you hadn’t felt loved the entire time you had been with him, and he had never said it before now either. Did the thought of you being gone forever make him change? If you did make it through, would he go back to the way he was before? Maybe death was the only escape… 

I’ll Make You Stay… 

There was no way the doctors would make him choose… It couldn’t be that serious. You were absolutely fine, right? He hadn’t noticed anything wrong until today… or were you just that good at hiding things from him? Why would you hide something like this from him? Were you afraid of him? Why were you scared of his love? He just loves you so much! What’s wrong with that? He wanted you to be with him forever, he wanted you to be his darling, why did you make it seem like that was so awful? He’d show you that you could be happy, that he could make you happy, you just had to stay with him, you had to stay. 

“Why can’t I go in?” Minho asked once again to the nurse who slipped out of the room. Each time he said it he was more irritated than the last. He just didn’t understand. What could be so wrong that he couldn’t be there for the birth of his daughter? Every time, the nurse would just sigh, getting more agitated with him. “I’ll just go in then. You can’t keep me from seeing her. That’s my wife, that’s my daughter! If you won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll just-“ 

The nurse cleared her throat, although it sounded more like she was groaning. He tried not to let it bother him the way it usually would. He had far better, far more important things to worry about than the bitchy attitude of the nurse. “She didn’t want me to tell you. I’m trying to respect her wishes. She wanted to be alone.” The nurse explained, but it only stirred up more questions in Minhos now overactive mind. What was the reason behind you wanting to go through this alone? Did he not have a say in being able to watch his daughter be born? It was unfair, and once everything was over with, he’d be having a talk with you about how rude and humiliating it was for him to sit out in the hallway while you were delivering his child. He opened his mouth, not even to speak, just to breathe, and the nurse started talking, as if she assumed he was just going to continue complaining. “Both of them are not well. The last thing I wanted to do was go against what could possibly be her last wish. Are you understanding now, sir?” 

Your… last wish? It sounded like you were dying… It couldn’t possibly be that bad… Is it? Why would you want to be alone during a time like this? How could you leave him this way? Do you not even care about his feelings? It’s like you want to make him miserable! All he wanted was to have a family with you, to make you stay with him forever, and now you’re trying to get away by dying!? You were so selfish! Why couldn’t you just be healthy?! He had done everything right. He made sure you ate and had your vitamins and did daily exercises and that you always got enough sleep. If anything happens to you and the baby… It would be your fault! It would all be your fault! 

“An early blood test would have shown that this was a possibility. It would have potentially kept this from happening. If she was getting proper appointments, this would have been caught before it got this bad. Who was her OB?” The nurse asked, her clipboard resting against her forearm, her pen held in her other hand, as if she was waiting for the information to jot down. The mention of your doctor had his mind pausing for a split second… This is why you needed the bloodwork done? Why had no one told him that back then? Why was he not informed of the risks that would come along if the bloodwork wasn’t done? This still wasn’t his fault though… No, the doctor should have talked to you and him more about the benefits of getting early bloodwork done. 

It was the doctors fault… If he hadn’t been so touchy with you, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him to come back and do the bloodwork. It was all the doctors fault, and if something were to happen to you or the baby… Minho would make sure that the doctor paid for it. He told the nurse the doctor's name, trying not to let his smile break through the mask of sadness that he was wearing, but it was hard. The thought of getting that guy to potentially lose his job, it was nice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little… overjoyed, knowing that if anything were to happen to you and the baby, it wouldn’t be in vain, at least the doctor will suffer as well. “I guess I’ll… wait out here…” He said, the frown once again returning to his face as he dropped down into the chair beside your door. It was still hard not being in there with you, knowing that so many people were looking at you, touching you… He felt like he was going to lose his mind, and the only way that he was keeping himself slightly sane was by constantly telling himself that he could potentially lose you and his daughter if those doctors didn’t help you. 

He was in and out of sleep the whole time, his head falling against the wall and his eyes drooping shut, only for them to shoot back open whenever an alarm would go off, looking up at the light above your door to make sure it wasn’t for your room before drifting back to sleep once more when he realized it wasn’t. It had been hours, he finally stopped counting after the seventh, when the door finally opened and one of the nurses, different from the one before, walked out. There were dark circles under her eyes, she looked frazzled and exhausted, but there was no urgency, there was no sadness… Was everything okay? Would he be able to keep you and his daughter? “Sir…” She started, and Minho sat up straight, his eyes hopeful as he looked up at the nurse. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, I don’t want you to get excited just yet… Although your wife and the baby are… alive… That doesn’t mean that things are… okay.” It was like all of the hope was drained from his body immediately, even after hearing that you were alive… How could you still not be okay? 

“Well… what’s wrong? What happened? I mean… I need some information here!” He was trying not to get worked up, but the way the nurse seemed to be beating around the bush was highly aggravating. For Christ's sake, he’s your boyfriend, the father of the child, and she was talking to him like he was some nobody. He deserves… No, he needs to know what happened! “How is she not okay? Is the baby okay? Come on, tell me something, dammit!” He didn’t care if she was tired, or if she was emotionally worn out after helping you. That’s her damn job, and part of it is telling him what the hell is going on. 

She sighed loudly, clearly not happy with the way that Minho was talking to her, but he didn’t really care for that either. He wasn’t even allowed in the damn room, the least she could do was tell him what had gone on while he was locked out in the hallway. “The mother had preeclampsia which advanced to class one HELLP, which I will not go into full detail about, a simple google search will tell you what it is, but I will say that she had the most severe case of HELLP that I have ever seen in my years of working here. We were at a point where we worried that we would have to choose whether she lived or the baby lived. She had to have blood transfusions before we could even deliver the baby, she was in the early stages of kidney failure, and while we were in the process of trying to help the mother, the baby went into respiratory distress. We had to do an emergency c-section, which wasn’t easy because we were worried about hemorrhaging, which did in fact happen. The baby is currently in the NICU, she is underweight, we have to do tests to check her platelet count, she’ll most likely be in the NICU for a couple of weeks, and that’s minimum, especially if her platelets aren’t normal. The mother needs to stay because we have to make sure she doesn’t have any other underlying health issues, and we need to monitor her closely because the first couple days after delivering a baby with HELLP syndrome could be fatal. So yes, the mother and the baby are alive… But they are in no way, shape or form, okay or healthy enough to come home anytime soon. Does that answer your questions, sir?” 

Minho didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t understand anything that had been said to him, all he knew was that it was bad and that you wouldn’t be going home with him. How could you let things get this bad? Why didn’t you tell him? Surely you must have felt ill or something when this was all going on? And that damn doctor… Why did he have to touch you? Why did he have to make him so angry? If he had just been a normal doctor, he would have been allowed to come back and do your bloodwork. This all could have been avoided! It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t! How was he supposed to know that something like this could happen?! He had never read anything about this online! He didn’t know something like this could happen! It wasn’t his fault! 

“Anyway…” The nurse spoke once more, taking Minhos silence as an opening. “She’s resting, they both are. There’s going to be doctors in and out of the room constantly, so, if you’d like to go in there, you can, but I wouldn’t expect to get any rest. If I were you, I’d honestly just go home, get some sleep, and come back in the afternoon. They’re not going anywhere, it’s going to be a long road ahead of the both of them… And you need to get as much rest as possible to prepare for it.” And with that, she walked away. He was left alone in the hallway with his thoughts, the faint sound of a heart monitor beeping just beyond the closed door to your room was the only sound he could really focus on. 

You were alive… You had stayed… You weren’t leaving him. He would have his family, and he would have it with you, his perfect darling. Nothing like this would ever happen again, he had his baby girl, and he had you. The two of you were all he needed. Once he had you and his baby back home, he’d make sure he never had to let you out of his sight again. You were going to stay with him, he would make you stay. That’s why he wanted the baby in the first place, and in the end, he still got exactly what he wanted. 

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[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 17]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Words: 4.3k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

“No.” 

Minnie plants her little feet firmly on the sidewalk and pulls her hands out of your and Matt’s grips so she can make her point by crossing her arms over her chest. A pout starts forming on her face and you have the feeling this is as far as your daughter will be going.

Across the street looms Clinton Church and you can understand why your daughter does not want to go anywhere near it. The building is as imposing as it is grand with its traditional architecture half shadowed in the morning sun. There is light reflecting off the many windows, casting little glares that you are sure Minnie can interpret in multiple ways - including eyes looking down at her. 

Try as you might, you can’t imagine what else your little one must be picking up from the building. Is there someone praying inside? Or chanting? What sort of terrifying noises is the building making? How many rats are scurrying around the grounds, hissing and eeking and becoming unseen monsters? 

How many real monsters are there? 

Right now, the only monster you know of is the one in your chest named Anxiety. It is roaring inside you and causing all sorts of ruckus. 

You know Minnie can pick up on your upset, and it is probably influencing her, but no amount of breathing exercises or chamomile tea is going to relax you. 

Meeting someone’s parents is always going to be nerve wracking under any circumstance - but meeting the mother of the man who fathered your child? Who already has a unique and slightly estranged relationship with her son?

Frankly, you’d rather give birth again. 

To make matters worse for your over analyzing, Matt's mother is a nun. 

You have never interacted with a nun before, and your mind has been nonstop screaming that you are going to make an absolute fool of yourself. You are convinced you are going to say something dumb - like Jesus is stupid or some other blasphemous thing. 

You don't even know what counts as blasphemy, but you know your mouth will find a way to make you want to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

You are on the same page as Minnie and don't want to take another step toward the Church. 

“No?” Matt questions, tilting his head down towards his daughter. He looks a bit baffled, like he can’t understand why she’s taken such a stance. You know he is nervous about the meeting as well, having told you such earlier, but you don’t think he realizes how much his nerves, on top of your own, are affecting Mouse and her fear of the new big building.

“No.” Your daughter repeats, giving a tiny stomp of one foot to emphasize her point. 

“No, what, sweetheart?” He kneels down to be on the same level as her, but you have a feeling that isn't going to help much. Minnie has made her decision and trying to sway a determined, upset toddler is a near impossible task.

“I don't wanna,” she tells him, her voice starting to get whiny. She turns away from him to press herself into your leg, her pout growing even bigger.

Matt knits his brows together, confusion clear, “You don't want to go to the park?”

Technically, you are supposed to meet Matt's mother in the Church park that is between the main building and the orphanage but as far as you are concerned, all of the grounds are Church. Apparently, your daughter feels the same. 

“No. I don't wanna,” she declares, which quickly turns into the chant of, “I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna!”

You can feel the tantrum coming and intervene, scooping Minnie up and hugging her to you. She instantly clings to you, burying her face against your neck with an additional almost screech of, “I don't wanna!”

You start to gently rock her from side to side and rub at her back to try and soothe her. You kiss her hair and promise, “We don’t have to go, baby. It is okay.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel like a grade A asshole. 

Matt’s face crumbles into heartbreak and you totally deserve to walk into traffic. He had opened up to you about his mother - about how she had left him as a baby only to end up raising him after his father had been killed - but not telling him who she was. He told you how he only recently learned the truth - less than a year ago - and how hard it was for him. 

But now he had you and Minnie and maybe, just maybe, you could all learn to be a family together.

Anxiety overdrive kicks in and a potential solution tumbles out of your mouth, “What if we go somewhere else instead? Somewhere we’ve been before?”

Matt lifts his head up at you, so you see yourself in his glasses, and for a second you think he's going to argue - insist you go to the Church playground - but then he tilts it towards where you don't want to go. You don't know what he is listening for, but after a moment, he stands again. He steps closer, a hand going to sit on your waist and trapping Minnie between the two of you. She stays nestled against you, little fist tight on your shirt, but you find yourself breathing a little easier at his touch.

“Would the office be okay? Foggy is out meeting clients and Karen is at the Bulletin today, it will just be us.” He offers quietly. Relief washes through you at the suggestion - you think the office would be a much easier meeting place.

But it is not your decision to make. You gently bounce Mouse to get her attention and ask, “Do you want to go to Daddy’s work?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but you feel her twist your shirt in her hands. You can tell she is thinking over her answer, so you wait, trying to focus on your daughter instead on how firm Matt’s hand is on your waist. It takes about twenty seconds, but Minnie finally nods into your shoulder. 

“Okay, We’ll go to Daddy's work.”

To reward her for being so brave, you press a kiss to your daughter’s hair and Matt quickly mimics you. Minnie clings tighter to you at the affection and you think she is going to remain tense and upset until you are far away from the Church.

“Okay. Wait here, I'll go tell Sister Maggie about the change in plans,” Matt tells you and you wonder if it is really okay with him. 

You know you and Minnie meeting her is important to Matt, but is the location important as well or is it just convenient? You are too wound up to ask and fearing you won't like the answer, you keep your mouth shut and focus on rocking Mouse.

Matt gives Minnie another kiss as he tightens his grip on you just slightly. It isn’t painful, but you get the impression he does not want to let go. You want to lean into the touch, your overactive mind telling you it might be nice if he never let you go, but before you can process those feelings, he is pulling away and crossing the street.

You step to the side, so you don’t impede foot traffic, and watch as he navigates past the cars and disappears around the side of the large building. Once he is out of sight, you look down to your daughter.

You want to ask her why she doesn’t want to go to the park at the Church, so you can better understand how she sees the world, but you also don’t want to put too much pressure on her. She’s already clearly upset, and you think trying to get her to answer your questions will just make things worse. 

So, you focus on making things better for her.

“Would you like your headphones, Minnie?”

That gets her to lift her head up to look at you, squinting like she’s trying to determine if this is some sort of trap. Eventually she gives you one curt nod before hiding her face again.

You are a pro at being able to maneuver to get into your purse while carrying a toddler and soon enough you are handing over neon blue headphones. She needs no help in unfolding them and situating them over her ears, and once they are on, she snuggles herself back into your arms. You have no issues or complaints with the action - you simply begin to rock her again and hope this mood subsides once you are at Matt’s office. 

You think about ways to get Minnie to interact with Matt’s mother as you wait for Matt to reappear. You think this might be the perfect time for parallel play - you’ve got a few coloring books stuffed in your purse, along with some small toys. You think it may be best to let her do her own thing while the adults talk, and that she comes over when she’s ready. 

You hope that Sister Maggie understands that would be ideal - you know she helps to raise children, so she must understand that some kids are shyer than others. Pushing Minnie to interact when she’s fussy will only result in tears. 

Possibly your own.

A few more minutes pass before Matt returns to the sidewalk followed by who you assume to be his mother. She's dressed in a gray and blue smock dress and matching habit, which is far less intimidating than the all black look you were expecting. She has an air of authority about her, holding herself tall as she walks, and you have the feeling she is a no-nonsense person.

You pray to a God you don’t really believe in that this meeting goes better than you fear it will. 

You move to meet the pair as they cross the street to you and offer what you hope to be a warm smile. The smile, though not as overtly friendly as yours, is returned and Matt does the honor of introducing you. You adjust your hold on your daughter so you can shake the woman's hand. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Matthew has told me wonderful things about you,” Sister Maggie says before directing her attention to her granddaughter. “And who might this little one be?”

To no surprise to you, Minnie attempts to burrow into you more at the question, smushing her face hard into your neck. You rub her back, trying to let her know everything is okay.

“This is Minnie, she's a little shy right now.”

Sister Maggie gives a knowing nod, “New places can be intimidating.” She drops her voice just slightly, in what you guess is an attempt to be comforting, and addresses Minnie, “Did your father tell you this is where he grew up?”

He did - you and Matt explained the outing to your daughter, but you don’t know how much she understood. You do know no amount of sweet talk will change her mind, even if it is about her new favorite subject - her Daddy. 

“I don't wanna go,” Mouse mumbles against you defiantly. You aren't sure if Sister Maggie can hear her, but you know Matt can. He steps forward, once again boxing in Minnie between the two of you and leans down to kiss the back of her head.

“We're not going there, princess. We're going to Daddy's office, remember? You've been there before,” he whispers into her hair. She shifts around in your arms a bit before giving another nod. You can feel her jutting out her bottom lip against your neck and part of you thinks you should call this all off and reschedule - but you aren’t going to do that to Matt.

Sister Maggie is watching your little family’s interaction, and you can’t bear to look in her direction to see what her reaction is, if she has one. Your anxiety has only prepared you for the worst.

“Perhaps we should start heading that way instead of saying where we are not going,” the nun advises after a moment and instinct and rational has you agreeing with her.

“I think that would be best.”

Matt pulls away from you and Minnie and you watch with downcast eyes as Sister Maggie offers her son her arm. He seems hesitant to take it, but he does, and your little group starts moving away from the Church and towards Nelson, Page, and Murdock.

The walk is quiet and you use the time to try and desperately calm your nerves, if only for the sake of your daughter. 

You think about Matt and what kind of person he is - he is full of love and care. He got those traits somewhere, and whether you argue Nature or Nurture, Sister Maggie has certainly influenced that. Did she encourage his Goodness? She must have had some sort of positive influence if he is not only wanting her to be in his life, but his daughter’s life, as well. 

You know some people believe family comes before anything, even if they treat you horribly, but you also know that if Sister Maggie was not a Good person, Matt would not allow her near Minnie.

He wouldn’t risk losing his relationship with his daughter. 

That is something you have no doubts about. 

As you arrive at Matt’s office building, Minnie lifts her head up off your shoulder. She wrinkles up her nose like she’s thinking hard before pointing to the plaque that state’s the firm’s name. You give her a warm smile, proud of her for recognizing it, but that only makes her squirrel away again.

This is the behavior you are used to seeing from your daughter in public - overly shy and not wanting to interact. You aren’t sure if the nerves and uncomfortableness from the church still linger, but you hope that once you are upstairs, she will start warming up a little. You won’t push her to do something she doesn’t want to do, but for Matt’s sake, you would like her to at least try talking to her grandmother.

Matt leads you all into the building and up the stairs. Sister Maggie runs a finger over the banister as you climb the stairs, giving a pleased hum, “Franklin did an amazing job cleaning this place up. Tell me that nose of yours helped in getting rid of all the mold.”

Matt huffs at the comment, “The property manager hired someone to come do that.”

“And did they get it all?” 

Matt’s mouth presses into a thin line and you already know the answer. 

“No, we spent a weekend getting the rest of it.” 

You stop in front of the Nelson, Page, and Murdock office, and as Matt fishes out the key, you look up and down the hallway, mulling over what is implied.

“You cleaned the whole building?” 

“Oh no, we couldn’t get permission from the other businesses to do that, but we did what we could to the public space and our offices. People feel comfortable here now.”

The door is opened and as you all file in, Matt suggests hanging out in the conference room. It has a nice window and plenty of space to sprawl out, so you have no objections. 

You set Minnie down as Sister Maggie and Matt head into the other room. She instantly clings to your leg, practically hiding behind it. You pet her hair a few times before pulling her away just enough so you can kneel down to talk with her. As soon as you are at her level, she is trying to get into your arms again. 

You let her hug onto you as you let her know what is going on, “Hey Mouse, do you remember earlier when I told you we were going to meet Daddy’s Mommy?” She nods but says nothing, so you continue on. “That is her. She wants to talk to me and Daddy and you and get to know us so she can be part of our family, too. But you don’t need to talk if you don’t want to, okay? I have your coloring books and you can color while we talk.”

That gets her to pull back just a hair and peek up at you with big brown eyes, “What are you gonna talk abouts?” 

You smile at the question and gently run your hands over her back, “All sorts of things, but we’re going to end up talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. If you don’t want us to talk about you, you can tell me, okay? We’ll talk about something else.”

“But I don’ gotta talk?” 

You nod, and let your bag fall off your shoulder. Minnie’s new zoo themed coloring book and crayons are easy to pull out and you offer them to your daughter. She lets go of you to greedily take her toys and hug them to her chest.

“You don’t need to talk,” you confirm. “Do you want to sit at the table, or do you want to sit on the floor?” 

Minnie considers the question, and you take advantage of no longer being hugged onto to stand up. Your little one peeks towards the conference room, then back up to you, and declares, “I wanna sit on Daddy’s lap.” 

You feel so much pride over your daughter making such a bold decision. 

“Okay, let’s go ask Daddy if you can sit in his lap.” You know Matt would never deny her, but you do want to drill in making sure Minnie asks permission first.

She waits for you to lead the way before following you into the conference room. Matt and Sister Maggie are sitting opposite each other, and Matt has already scooted his chair out and is holding his hands out to help Minnie into his lap. 

“Daddy!” 

She hurries to him and gets scooped up and crushed into a hug. She hugs back best she can while holding her coloring book.

You take the chair beside Matt and finally allow yourself to look at the nun across from you. She’s watching Matt and Minnie with an almost unreadable expression, but there is something soft behind her eyes - like she’s been keeping it repressed for years. 

But then she catches you looking, and the softness is gone, replaced by that All-Knowing Nun look you’ve seen in movies before. 

“How old is she?” Sister Maggie asks, and you can’t help but flush at her directness.

“Almost four, her birthday is on the 28th,” you reply, forcing yourself to not completely avert your gaze and hideaway. 

She raises her brows before turning her sharp gaze to Matt, accusing him with, “You did not mention her birthday was coming up.”

He has the decency to look a little bit ashamed, “There were a few other things to cover, first.” 

The older woman shakes her head, “Priorities, Matthew. I may be new to being a grandmother, but you know well I have raised plenty of children and we have never skimped on birthdays. We may not always have the money to spoil someone, but we do well to make sure they know they are loved.” She looks back to you, “Do you have plans for the day?”

“Oh, um, the zoo. We’re going to go to the zoo,” you tell her.

Beside you, Minnie has slipped down into Matt’s lap, so she is sitting. She has started to flip through her coloring book, examining each picture before making her decision about what to color. At the mention of the zoo, she quietly mimics you, “Going to the zoo.”

Matt breaks into a smile at the words, looking proud as can be that Minnie spoke around his mother. He wraps his arms around her middle and you have the feeling he wants to crush her to his chest again but is resisting. 

Sister Maggie seems to know Minnie isn’t speaking to her, but just in general, and keeps the conversation to you, “That sounds like a lovely birthday. Zoo trips are always a delight with the kids.” She tilts her head slightly to the left before continuing on, “Matthew said you do not have a support network.”

“That isn’t what I said!” Matt quickly says, before turning his head towards you, “That isn’t what I said.”

Sister Maggie scoffs, “It is what you meant, and it is not a bad thing. You more than anyone know what it means to have a support network. Now,” she says your name gently and offers you a somewhat kind smile, “You are welcome to come to the Church and use any of the services we offer, and you may come by anytime you need, day or night. We will always have our doors open for you.”

You stare across the table as you process the words she has said. Shame and embarrassment course through you at the idea of Matt talking about you. You know you’ve never really had anyone to turn to, but the thought of others discussing such matters makes you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Yet, on the other hand, the mere offer of being welcomed at the Church has you spiraling in all sorts of good and overwhelming ways. 

But of course, instead of being thankful, the words that tumble out of your mouth are, “I’m not religious.” 

“That changes nothing,” she says simply and somehow, sits up straighter, “I have been given a second chance to know my son and through this a blessing of a granddaughter. I will not run from these responsibilities again and -”

“Daddy,” Minnie suddenly says, cutting Sister Maggie off while pouring all her crayons out on the table, “Pick a color!” 

Matt’s cheeks turn pink at the interruption, and you try to not slide down in your seat. You know you can’t expect your daughter to sit there quietly, even if she’s being a little fussy, especially if Matt is around. She’s a toddler. 

Matt clears his throat and asks, “What colors are there, sweetheart?”

“There’s green, and blue, and purple, and red, and orange, and yellow,” she lists off, holding up each crayon as she does.

“Let’s go with red.”

“Okay!” Minnie picks up the chosen crayon and begins to carefully start coloring in a gorilla. 

Since she spoke up on her own, you try to engage with your daughter to bring her out of her shell, “Can you tell Daddy what animal you’re coloring?”

You expect her to answer happily - after all she loves explaining things to Matt and she’s been learning all her zoo animals.

So of course, she does not do that. She whips her head around to look at you, and with the sternest little voice you have ever heard, barks out, “I don’t gotta talk!”

Your first instinct is to laugh at the outburst, but you bite down on your lip to control yourself. The urge passes quickly, and you decide you should praise your daughter for setting her boundaries, “That is right, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.”

She narrows her eyes at you for a moment, clearly judging you, before turning back to her artwork. 

Only then do you allow yourself a chuckle. 

To your surprise, Sister Maggie laughs as well. “Well, she is certainly a Murdock.”

That gets your attention and you and Matt both let out a curious, “Oh?”

“That little glare was all Murdock. I have seen it so many times from Matthew, who got it from his father,” she says and there is almost a fondness in her voice. “I expect the hands on the hips pose is genetic as well.”

Your eyes go wide at that. Matt’s father has never been brought up in depth before - you read the news article about his death in an online archive, and he was almost brushed over when Matt told you about his mother. You assumed, like your own parents, it was a sensitive topic. 

“I..didn’t know that,” Matt starts slowly, and you can practically feel the emotion bubbling inside him. Without considering it, you reach across the small gap between your chairs and take his hand, squeezing it. He instantly squeezes back. “I don’t remember him ever doing that.”

“I suspect he tried to not let his frustrations show around you, but it is something I remember clear as day - Jack with his hands on his hips, glaring at the refrigerator because it dared to lose power during a blackout,” Sister Maggie tell him, before she motions to her eyes, “They may not be the same color, but that look is the identical.”

The room goes quiet, save the noise of Minnie scribbling. You keep your hand around Matt’s, trying to communicate you are there for him in his love language. He starts to roll his bottom lip between his teeth, and you wait for him to react before you do. 

“You…,” Matt starts after a few more moments, voice almost warbling, “don’t talk about him. You don’t talk about him like that - what he was like.”

“Yes, well, I’ve never had reason to,” Sister Maggie says. She places her hands on the table in front of her, clasping them together, and she looks like she is about to give an interview. “But that has changed, clearly.” She looks from Matt to you, “Matthew said you were looking for family history. I do not have much from Jack’s side, but I can tell you what I do know, and I keep my own meticulous records. I believe reviewing these things, medical and non-medical, together, will…help us heal.”

You look to for his reaction. His mouth is parted, and he looks like he is going through his own emotional rollercoaster. You know how important family is to him and how dear this information must be to him, so you make a decision.

You lace your fingers with his and smile at Sister Maggie and ask, “How did you meet Jack?”

“Ah, yes, now that is a colorful story…” 

a/n: maggie is v hard to write

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[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 12

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 12:

Danny asked himself why he even bothered with this game of cat and mouse with the bats. They already knew he could go intangible, so what was the point?

It was another day, another chase; another case of Red Helmet not showing up. This was the third time, not counting when he’d sneaked back invisibly and intangibly in the morning for another roll of heavy duty cable after that first night Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

Was he alright? Was he hurt? Had he just given up?

His core cried out in sorrow lamenting the connection he couldn’t make. It didn’t matter that he never had a connection to begin with, now he felt not only lost, but abandoned. 

It was stupid. 

He didn’t want to do this anymore. Yet here he was, playing chase. He’d already lost two vigilantes tonight, but they kept popping up like wack-a-moles. His current tail was Sunshine, who was a rare participant, he’d only showed up recently but unlike the others he had powers, which made losing him in the traditional sense hard.

He should just leave, but what if Red Helmet showed?

Also it was habit. Habit was a comfort to his hurting core. Ghosts were creatures of habit and mischief. The chase even while it exhausted him was the only bit of play he had. It used to be, early in his stay in Gotham, that he actually had fun. He wasn’t sure at what point it became more habit than fun. It had probably been a gradual sneaking thing.

When Danny first arrived in this world through a training accident and a random portal, he hadn’t been worried. Sooner or later he would find a new natural portal to return to the Ghost Zone and from there he could find home. Natural portals happened all the time, they were like vents, opening and closing to relieve pressure and keep the balance between worlds. Danny had a knack for finding them. He didn’t know whether it was due to dying in a portal or because of his adventures with the Infi-map, but it was a skill he’d developed. So while a couple of years prior he would have been worried about going through a portal, not so much anymore.

He didn’t recognize the city he landed in, it was a regular metropolis with towering skyscrapers, chrome and glass. One building had a giant globe on top with a sign pronouncing it the Daily Planet. Flying about invisibly and people watching, he’d first come to the conclusion he had to be in the future. The technology was just way too advanced when it came to what every day people had in their pockets.

His sightseeing had taken him to a place called Star Labs - how could Danny not check it out with a name like that? And he was not disappointed. They seemed to be doing a little bit of everything; medical research, weapons, strange things he didn’t even know what was (and Danny knew strange things), but best of all spacecraft. 

He’d been looking at a nanotech self-repairing coating for a future spacecraft when it happened; Alarms blared. The lights changed to red. Alert, Danny had remained still and invisible. He wasn’t necessarily the cause of the alarm, and making a sound now would only make him the cause of alarm for the suddenly nervous scientists in the room.

They all waited to see what would happen and eventually the doors opened admitting white armored security guards - the color immediately sent his hackles rising, the lights flickered momentarily but thankfully nobody noticed. All were focused on the security guards scanning the room with their anonymous visors.

Someone pointed towards the corner and guns were raised. The poor scientist standing there raised his hands frantically babbling, begging that he hadn’t done anything, please don’t shoot- The stream of words became just that to Danny, like water rushing in his ears. 

They weren’t pointing at the scientist; they were pointing at Danny. 

He moved, only just in time, flying up through the ceiling. The guns whirred behind him, with a high pitched charging sound and not like normal gunshots at all, no too much like-

Heat erupted in his side and he screamed. It took all his willpower to keep his invisibility, to keep his form. His head snapped around frantically, even in a new room he saw only armored white closing in. Place was crawling with them. A wail was building in his throat. No! He was in a city, he couldn’t! Panic fueled him as he kicked off the floor in a burst of speed, up up up. Floor after floor until the evening sky opened up above him in burning reds and oranges. 

He hadn’t stopped, he’d sped away from the city. 

At present Danny pressed himself against a wall, watching Sunshine reconvene with Purple from his hiding place above them. Seeing the two vigilantes were busy he sneaked carefully around the  corner of the building to put the building between them. He kept in the shadow of a pipe as he started jogging. 

Thinking about Star Labs he couldn’t help but touch a hand to where the energy blast had hit him - he’d scarred. It hadn’t been ectoplasm based, Danny would have known, but if they could hurt him, they could find a way to capture him, to keep him captured. 

That was why Danny had tried to limit the usage of his powers in Gotham. If he could pass for just a regular thief, maybe someone with cloaking tech,  If they guessed what he was they would be one step closer to- No! He couldn’t think about that, he needed to keep his head in the game. 

The midget sprung down in front of him, and Danny changed directions. How many of them were out here today? And with how many what were the odds Helmet wasn’t out here somewhere? Danny was tiring. But maybe there was hope? 

His thoughts drifted again as he ran.

When Danny had taken a moment to catch his breath after his escape from Star Labs, he’d started to look for a portal. He’d had enough of this future, but he hadn’t found a single one. He’d flown around trying to sense one until he’d been forced to set down in a forested area, transforming from the exhaustion. 

He hadn’t understood then why he was so tired.

Strangely breathless he’d pulled out his phone and called Tucker. If he could trust one person to always be near his technology it was Tucker - The number couldn’t be reached. Next he’d tried Sam, then Jazz, then Mom and Dad, none of the numbers could be reached. 

Terrified of what could have happened to them, Danny had started walking. He needed somewhere he could access technology. He’d discovered the burn on his side had carried over to his human form, because his shirt stuck to the blistering mess. He’d been in too much shock to notice the pain. But as he walked it became more and more apparent. He didn’t have anything in his backpack to dress the wound. 

As evening encroached, Danny had come upon a road. He picked right for his direction, walking in the leafy underbrush on the side of the road. The road was long and straight and relatively well travelled even as evening moved on into twilight, which was already pretty dark due to the shadows of trees. The now fewer cars had blinding headlights and Danny was careful to look away from them - not just for his poor eyes’ sake, but he really didn’t need to cause an accident, he never knew when his eyes would decide to reflect light like some sort of cryptid roadside ghoul. 

Danny was exhausted - too exhausted, but he tried to ignore the tumble of worried thoughts that wanted to be released from where he’d chained them up. He was considering just finding a soft spot to lie down for a nap, but some niggle of fear he couldn’t explain told him he might just be more exhausted if he stopped. No, walking on was safer. He needed to get to a place where there were people, and he didn’t risk getting mauled by wildlife because he was tired.

A truck stopped just ahead of him after a crescent moon had risen in the sky. Danny felt more full dead than half dead as he walked up to the truck. The window was rolled down.

“My wife’ll kill me for picking up hitchhikers so near Gotham if you’re a serial killler,” a rough female voice spoke from the cabin. 

Danny blinked. What? He managed to say, “uh?”

The driver leaned over far enough that she could open the door and actually see him. She had short cropped curly hair, a nose that looked like it had been broken before and judging dark eyes that swept up and down Danny’s arguably pitiful state of being. 

“Well, are you?” She enunciated.

“What?” “A serial killer?” Danny held his arms out helplessly. “I’m not, but if I was, that would also be my response, ma’am.”

She huffed a short bark of laughter. “So you got a bit o’ sass. Jump in then. Heading to Gotham?”

“Sure.” Danny replied, and climbed up. He’d never heard about a town by that name, but it was the second time the lady had mentioned it and who really knew where he was except somewhere in the US. He buckled in under watchful eyes, and in moments they were off.

“So you from somewhere in the Midwest?”

“Illinois, ma’am.” It was a safe enough topic, and Danny was so relieved to sink into soft seats and relax. His backpack was safely between his knees, even if it didn’t hold much of value and the cabin warm but not too warm.

“What brings you all the way out to Jersey?”

“Would you believe me-“ Danny covered his mouth as he was a assaulted by a yawn. “Sorry. If I said I don’t know?”

She glanced away from the road towards Danny momentarily. “Wouldn’t be the strangest thing.”

She reached into a cooler box and pulled out a sweating can that she handed to him. “Here, you’re pale as a ghost.” He accepted the can with shaking hands. Only his heart had jumped at the comparison, not his whole body, he reassured himself. He frowned thoughtfully as he examined the can. Zesti Cola the cursive lettering declared.

“Is this a local brand?” Danny asked thoughtlessly as he opened it up.

He realized his mistake as soon as it was out of his mouth at the incredulous look he got. “It’s only the biggest brand worldwide.”

Danny coughed. “Guess I must have grown up more sheltered than I thought.” 

He’d take the pitying look over any suspicion. He took a sip and it tasted a bit sweeter than the cola he was used to. His body welcomed the sugar and the liquids. He was usually more resilient than this. 

After finishing the pop, and putting the can in the trash bag as directed it wasn’t long until he fell asleep. 

He woke a bit disoriented when they stopped at a gas station an unknown amount of time later. And as memories flooded in he immediately knew what had been wrong with him. There had been absolutely no ambient ectoplasm in the air. He’d burned up his own rapidly using his powers for hours and healing a wound to boot. The difference was blatantly obvious now that he was in an area with ectoplasm in the air. He didn’t feel near as tired, his muscles and the wound ached less.

He stepped out of the truck along with the driver, and pulled his backpack back on. He looked up to the dark cityscape towering above them - so Gotham was definitely not a town. 

“Hey, kid.”

Danny resisted the instinctual urge to protest that he was nineteen, so not a kid, but that was personal information he didn’t want to give. 

“Yeah?” She walked around the truck to face him. “Gotham is a very good city to disappear in, but it’s also a good city to disappear in, you feel me? So take care?”

Danny swallowed at the ominous warning, but he was confident he could protect himself. He nodded. “Thanks for the ride, ma’am.”

Danny snapped out of the memory as a staff came down for his head. Jumping back he saw the midget had been joined by criss-cross bandolier guy.

He changed direction again and mused, that at this rate he’d go through all the vigilantes of Gotham tonight; but there was only one he wanted to see. He wasn’t showing and that was good, he reminded himself.

Zesti Cola and Gotham had been the clues Danny needed to know he was not in the future but in an entirely different reality. The following days he’d explored the limits of Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm. He’d quickly realized that to leave Gotham would be extremely dangerous to him. He might survive on human food, but any use of his powers would leave him weak and vulnerable, and as someone who didn’t even have an identity in this world - nobody would notice if he did disappear. 

Clockwork didn’t answer him. He couldn’t rely on anyone finding him here, they could become just as stuck as him. The only real solution was to build a portal. 

Danny was too late to divert from his path when he realized he was running towards a dead end, brick walls on two sides and concrete on the last, going up several stories. It was just as good a sign as any that it was time to end the chase. His stupid core could mourn Red Helmet’s absence just as easily from his hide-out as it could from here. 

He was prepared to turn intangible and go through the wall straight ahead. 

It was a relief the chase would be over. Weariness dragged at him more so now that he knew it would soon be over. Just three more long strides and the next would take him through the wall.

One. Two-

Electricity flared bright blue and flickering, dancing dangerously across the wall. Danny froze in place, in a way only possible due to his powers, as he instantly cancelled his momentum. Momentum that would have otherwise- No, he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus, no panic, he could panic later, when he was free. He spun around. Electricity sparked all around him turning into a blur of dancing lightning. He dug his nails in to the palms of his hands. The path he’d come from was blocked by the bats. Blue Bird with his terrifying sticks, had joined the other two. 

The world wavered around him. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was so loud in his ears. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood in his mouth. It was not over yet. 

He sunk into the ground, but pain, terrible and familiar lanced up through his legs and he jumped up with a yelp. He stared down at the asphalt beneath his feet in terrified realization; there were live power lines running through the ground.

Danny gritted his teeth and faced his pursuers grimly.

Bandoliers gave Danny a triumphant smile. “Gotcha.”

-

There you have it, Tim's plan to capture Danny, helped along by Danny being distracted. Next time we will see if it works ;)

I don't know that I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. Now that it's written and out at least I can hope to get something I'm more satisfied with for the ao3 version.

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Update: next

[blues824]

Bonjour! Comment allez-vous aujourd'hui? May I request headcanons of Leona and Ruggie with a female bobcat s/o?

Uhhh… uhhhh… hola.

Disclaimer: Female reader.

Leona Kingscholar

It was a school crossover event… one that he was not particularly happy about. Sure, he respected women, and he was borderline terrified of them, but having a girl around would make some members of his dormitory a bit more rowdier than usual. Besides, he would have to attend the mirror ceremony.

However, it was an obligation that he would come to be grateful for, because the moment you stepped through, his senses went quiet. Everything went quiet, save for his increased heartrate. You looked so… gorgeous and badass. But you were quite friendly, actually, and rather quiet.

You were put into Savanaclaw for the time being, and Leona surprised everyone by volunteering to host you. As you got set up in his room, you both got to talking… and there was definitely a clear, mutual interest between the two of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating, which further surprised everyone.

Often, you both could be found cuddling in his room, either doom-scrolling through Magicam or just sleeping… or something else, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Leona also loved to spoil you, often just giving you his card to spend it on whatever you found online. You didn’t abuse his money, though, since you wanted to meet his family first so that they wouldn’t think you’re a gold-digger.

Speaking of, you absolutely loved Cheka, and the young lion cub loved you and called you his ‘Auntie’. Leona and you laid in his bed as Cheka laid between the both of you as he played a game you installed for him on your phone… and your boyfriend felt his heart pounding as you instructed the little one how to play. His instincts were telling him that he wanted a baby with you right here and now… but that’s for another day and a different blog.

Ruggie Bucchi

Now… he is also intimidated by women, which is probably why he went to this all-boys college. However, when he heard that there was a school crossover happening, he was very intrigued. After all, new victims to steal from. He went with Leona to see who was selected to stay at NRC… but was completely blown away.

You were standing there… as radiant as ever. The hyena could feel his heart pounding against his chest as you met his gaze and smiled. He felt like Mickey Mouse when Minnie pressed a kiss to his cheek. He felt like Thumper when his lovely lady, Ms. Bunny. 

From that point on, his attention focused on you. You needed any help on assignments? Done. You needed help with a creep not being nice to you? Well, that’s what his Unique Magic was for! You wanted to go on a date? Sure, he just needs… wait, what?! Yeah, when he asked you on a date, he was very surprised to see you nodding. You knew he wasn’t from the best of backgrounds, right?

However, he’d be damned if he let the opportunity just pass him by. He picked up more shifts from the jobs he works, and he was able to take you to the Mostro Lounge and pay for the entire bill. His grandmother always taught him not to be a scrub… and that being broke and being a scrub were two different things.

While he wishes he could spoil you more, you assured him time and time again that you just loved spending time with him, and that money was no big deal to you. Instead, you often spoiled him since you saw him working hard a lot. Many donuts and many head scritches from you were enough to make Ruggie think he was the King of the World.

[qin-qin16]

My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, writer Reader, Ink is mentioned, Error is jealousy, again, comedy, Reader finally notices that something wrong is happening! (Part one) (Part two)

“I should really get a new chair..." You say slowly, tilting your head back and feeling your neck stretch — a habit that you keep indulging in, no matter how sore it makes your nape afterward. "Then again, I also need to buy some new pants... and a new mouse as well..." Your head rolls over your shoulders, and before you know it, you’re staring at the computer screen again.

Your fingers lightly tap against the table; pinky, ring, middle, and index. One after the other in a rhythmic sequence — until you mess up and clench your hand into a loose fist.

"Ink definitely wouldn’t say that; he’s just so clueless." And there you are, deleting an entire paragraph for the third time, unhappy with how your story is turning out. "Why did I have to write about this jerk again?"

Because he’s a complex character with many layers that can add depth to your plot. You can almost imagine yourself explaining it, wearing glasses with a raised finger — just like that nerd emoji meme.

Even though your explanation was spot on, you can’t help but huff in frustration, rubbing your eyes with your thumbs before looking back at the blank Word document.

“... Why is this so bright?” If you were standing in front of a mirror, you’d definitely see your pupils constricting; a slight burning sensation spreading across your eyes as your finger keeps clicking on the computer keys, the brightness rapidly dimming.

Before you can blink, you let out a slow hiss. The burning in your eyes, sharp against your sensitive irises, returns suddenly; and in front of you, seemingly amused by the situation, your computer screen is set to full brightness.

"What the hell?" you curse, quickly covering your eyes with your hands as you pull away from the screen. For a moment, all you see is complete darkness, with a few bright spots flickering in your vision.

Maybe it’s time to start using eye drops; your eyes probably wouldn’t hurt so much after hours in front of the computer.

"I must have pressed the wrong key..." That’s a possibility, if it weren’t for a little voice in the back of your mind whispering the steps you took moments ago; you definitely pressed the right keys and released them at the right moment to actually dim the screen. "Or did I think I clicked but really didn’t?"

Your head droops onto your shoulders — and a low grunt escapes your lips as you feel the muscles in your neck stretch, pulling your shoulder blades along with them.

You rest your face in your hands, then rub your eyes and look at the computer again between your fingers. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” Your feet shuffle toward the table, the rolling chair getting stuck at some point. “I just need to finish at least this dialogue before I can finally shut this thing down with a clear conscience.”

In theory, it should be a simple task; in practice, not so much. Especially when the paragraphs you’ve already written keep getting erased-

"What the hell is going on?!" You couldn’t believe — or understand — what was happening right before your eyes: sentence by sentence, your fanfic was being quickly erased, line by line.

You quickly moved the mouse away from the document, clicking anywhere else in the browser to stop your writing from being deleted — which didn’t do much good. The cursor soon started moving on its own, spinning around the screen until it selected an entire paragraph and deleted it.

"What’s going on?!" you shout as you repeat the same action, clicking outside the browser to keep the cursor from going back to the document, sliding it left, right — anywhere to keep whatever was controlling your mouse away from your precious fanfic. "Is this what a hacker attack feels like?"

It’s the only explanation; unless the existence of ghosts is not just real, but they also have the ability to manipulate electronics and understand how the internet works.

Before you could think any more about it, the cursor had returned to the center of the screen — but this time, before it could delete any more of your text, you quickly took control of the mouse, dragging it to the red box in the corner of the window and closing it for good.

You didn’t even curse or shout afterward; your mouth stays slightly open, slowly widening enough to express your disbelief at what had just happened. Your eyes remained fixed on the computer, even as your vision grew increasingly blurry, much like the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.

"What the hell was that? Was it some kind of virus? Or a hacker's prank? I didn’t share this document with anyone, so it must have been some damn hacker with no job doing something so messed up! But wait, what if it’s like those little computer avatars that are actually viruses messing with your documents and folders? Did I download something strange without even noticing?”

Your focus snaps back to the screen as a notepad file opens in the upper corner of your desktop.

HEHEHEHEHEHEH GOT YOU!

“Son of a bitch,” you growl, grinding your teeth together as your eyes scan the message in all caps again and again.

This was solid proof (at least for your stress-fried brain) that this was the work of a sadistic hacker, taking pleasure in your suffering. It was decided: you would take your computer to a specialist as soon as possible — hacker or not, you would get your precious computer back at any cost.

Banging your head against the desk — and grunting as the pain spreads across your forehead — you don’t even notice that the light on your webcam is on.

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