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trumpkinhotboy · 5 months ago

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I'll keep an eye on you - III

pairing: jacob black x reader

genre: as always for this series, a mix of fluff and angst

warnings: curse words here and there?

word count: about 3000

a/n: It's finally here babes !!!!! this beautiful little series i love so so much🥺Thank you so much for your patience and all the lovin you have been giving to this little series of mine, it means the world to me<3

part I part II

A month had passed.

Slowly, you were healing from the horrible ordeal you had been through. Jake still came to sleep at your house almost every night. You kept up that routine for a few weeks, but after a while, you asked to try it alone. Even if he reluctantly agreed, he knew you needed to do this. So he promised to stay close the first night, ready to come in if you needed him. As it turns out, you were okay, and as days went by, you no longer needed him to keep watch hidden in the trees beside your house. Slowly, you were able to sleep all alone in your bed. You were incredibly proud of it, even if you missed having Jacob's warm body lying next to you at night.

You never spoke again of that night you confessed how everything gnawed at you. You thought about it often but never found the right time to discuss it. Since he hadn't mentioned it, you allowed it to go without answers for longer. You knew you'd end up getting to the bottom of it anyway.

The crisp autumn air ruffled your hair as you headed to the Reservation in your rusty truck, window pulled down, and music blasting, at least as much as your poor speakers could muster. You were incredibly excited to see everyone, and the prospect of hearing legends about the Quileutes made you tremble with excitement. You couldn't help but feel honored to be invited to these tribe gatherings. There weren't many outsiders allowed to hear the old tales.

You hadn't even parked your car when you saw Jacob's humongous form jogging for you. As always, a bright smile illuminated his tan face. And as always, you felt your knees wobble when you realized you were the recipient of such a beautiful thing. "Y/n! Over here!" He signaled for you to bring your truck closer to the backyard. Groaning, your truck obliged, and as soon as you shifted in park, your friend opened the door with a hand lifted for you to climb down. "Milady," he joked as his big hand engulfed yours.

Without letting go, he guided you to the rest of the tribe already gathered behind his little house. Some of the boys were working on making a big fire, and you were delighted to smell some delicious burgers being cooked over on the BBQ. Emily was busy ordering Sam and Paul around as she laid out plate after plate of delicious-looking food on a nearby table. You couldn't help a smile when you saw her swat Paul on the shoulder for not checking the patties often enough, and made a mental note to go and say hi to your friend as Jake pulled you in the opposite direction.

You reached the sitting area where Jacob's father and a few others were gathered, idly talking. You couldn't ignore the funny looks Quil and Jared kept giving you as you approached the little group. They whispered to each other, giggling like little gossips before Jake gave them the darkest look you'd ever seen to shut them up. You ignored their odd behaviour but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on.

Before you could ask anyone about it, Paul announced the food was ready, and slowly the small crowd went over to fill their plates. After filling up yours with more food than you could ever ingest, Jake guided you to his friends with one hand on the small of your back. Its iridescent presence you could never ignore made shivers run down your spine. Small touches like this one were becoming more and more familiar between the two of you. Even so, you didn’t think you would ever get used to the delicious warmth it always spread in your body.

You all sat around the fire, eating merrily the food Emily prepared and as you joked with everyone, you were once again surprised by how comfortable you felt around them all. How natural it felt for you to be with them. To sit by Jake's side, his thigh pressed against yours as if any space between your bodies was intolerable.

You were caught in a conversation with Seth, the sound of laughter and excited conversation filling your ears. Jake’s presence by your side made you feel so content and safe. Until one minute you were laughing with Seth, and the next you felt Jacob getting up. "Everything okay?" you asked. You didn't hear what was said but were aware that he was talking with Quil and that their tone had gotten heated before abruptly stopping.

"Yeah, just gonna get something to drink." he curtly answered.

You gave him a quick smile, knowing by the expression on his face he was not okay. Which was later confirmed by the way he sat next to you but kept a very noticeable distance. You didn't comment on it, not wanting to make a scene, but when you focused on your plate again hunger had completely left you.

"Hey, don't mind him, Y/n. Quil's an idiot," whispered Seth.

You looked at him with question marks in your eyes. "Oh, sorry, I thought you heard what he said. Uhm, he just said something about how you and Jake acted like a couple."

You turned your head in Jake's direction, but despite your pointed stare, his eyes would not drift in your direction. You analyzed the distance between the two of you, feeling a sharp pain in your heart. That would explain Quil and Jared’s odd behaviour earlier and the death stare Jacob had given them. You had thought it was simply because he didn’t want them to tease you. Now, you had the sinking feeling his reaction was due to another reason completely.

The night merrily carried on until late, the elders had gone home and it was only the pack and you left around the fire. The joyous heat had simmered to hot embers, encouraging you to scoot closer, chasing the warmth.

Jake kept looking over at you, an ounce of worry in his dark eyes. He was still far away, not making eye contact or talking with you. Your frustration at his distant behaviour had only grown during the night but when he suddenly signaled for you to follow him and walked towards his car you followed without hesitation. You looked at him open the door, fetching something on his seat, and back out. He walked closer and handed you his coat.

"I saw you shivering. Thought you could use this." His tone was low and even here, alone and away from the group he avoided your eyes. You stared at the piece of clothing in your hands, more confused than you'd ever been. A petty part of you, angry at him for acting so distant wanted to refuse and walk away. But the part of you that was freezing its ass off couldn't refuse the perspective of more warmth.

You wrapped it around your shoulders as you looked at him. "So this is what this is about. You only wanted to give me this?" His failure to answer only made you sigh deeper with annoyance. "I'm so confused, Jake." You didn't have to add anything, from the way he looked at you and the sigh he let out, you knew he knew. "You've been acting so weird but keep behaving like nothing's going on. Tonight, I mean, what is that? I come here, you look happy to see me. Then suddenly Quil says some dumb shit and you get as far away from me as possible. What's up with that? Are you ashamed? Is that what this is?"

He sharply looked up from the ground. An animal light fired up his eyes. "I would and will never feel ashamed of being with you. Never."

"Then what's going on? Tell me. Ever since that night, you've been acting differently."

You had reached a new level of intimacy in your friendship that night a month ago. You both shared private information, deciding to trust and rely on each other. But that night, there were also a lot of secrets still kept.

"Y/n I- I can't."

"Can't what? Jake, tell me. I can weather it. Whatever it is."

His body shook under the intensity. He seemed to be fighting his whole self to get the words out. Then it clicked. You remembered a year ago when you'd seen him in such a state. When he started his transformation, Sam had forbidden him from telling you. You only discovered his secret when you infiltrated his house and found him half wolf, half human in the most terrifying process you had ever seen. Your blood started boiling in your veins.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This, again?" You turned to look at the people gathered around the fire a few meters away. Your gaze zoomed in on its target. Sam, laughing with Emily sitting at his side. "I'm done with this."

You stormed over to the bonfire and planted yourself in front of the leader. Sam looked up at you with a laid-back smile which quickly disappeared when he noticed you were fuming with rage.

"Y/n, is everything okay?" he carefully asked, then he looked back at Jacob running up behind you. A shadow passed in his gaze.

"You know what's wrong. You're doing it again. This is the thing I hate the most about your powers, Sam. Taking away someone's right to talk is wrong. Especially when it puts him in pain." You pointed to Jake, not taking your eyes away from Sam. You heard Jacob mumbling for you to calm down and let it go, but ignored him. "This needs to end."

"Y/n..." he started. You noticed the complete silence surrounding you and the tense look he kept giving Jacob.

Sam was an honest guy. He was a great leader who always took responsibility and ownership of his actions. The fact that he wasn't saying anything wasn't like him at all. He had never tried to deny the orders he gave in the past. Realization shook your core as you felt a deep sadness pierce your stomach. "You're not the one who asked Jake not to tell me anything." You turned to look at your friend, the truth written on his face. "You asked him."

His failure to answer was the only confirmation you needed. A storm of thoughts and emotions took control of your senses. Dread, dismay and then burning rage took hold of your brain. "Why." The simple word sounded harsh and rough coming from your mouth.

"Y/n, please let it go," he begged in a whisper.

"This is so dramatic for nothing. I don't get what's the big deal and why he would ever ask that," you heard someone mumble. Everyone turned to look at Quil, who froze under the sudden weight of the attention. "What? It's the truth. There's no reason he should ever want to hide that Y/n's..."

Faster than your human senses could comprehend Jacob had pounced on his friend. Throwing him off the seat he was in, he trapped him on the ground. Even if Quil was also a werewolf, there was no way he could ever fight Jacob off right now.

"You shut the fuck up. This has nothing to do with you." Jacob's voice sounded poisonous. Immediately, the other members got to their feet, ready to pull them apart. Jacob seemed like he was taller and meaner. Long gone was the sunshiney smile you loved so much. At that moment, he was more wolf than human. "This is my business. She is my business and no one else."

Everybody looked at the ground, no one would cross eyes with you. The sound of his voice when he uttered these words, the way his body seemed to be angled to protect you even if he was a few feet away. You had seen this behavior before and had observed it a thousand times in Sam's behavior toward Emily or in Paul's toward Rachel. Another realization hit you like the impact of a collision between two asteroids.

Your eyes were fixed on Jacob’s back, still turned to you. Even then, you could feel it. You always knew. Some part of you always knew. That bond between the two of you was stronger than just love or friendship. It was destined, you were two parts of the same soul.

You staggered, feeling light-headed, when a gentle touch at your elbow stabilized you. Emily stood beside you, helping you stay collected and brushing your back with comforting strokes.

"Breathe Y/n." You barely heard her but listened to her words. Fresh air filled your lungs and steadied you. You looked back at Jacob who had immediately released Quil when he saw your reaction. Worry was written on his face. You hoped he could read the fury written on yours.

You walked up to him and stopped when you were barely inches away. For the first time that night, Jacob looked thrown off. You searched his eyes before you started screaming. "YOU IDIOT?? WHY WOULD YOU NOT WANT ME TO KNOW I'M YOUR IMPRINT? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TRY AND FORBID ME TO KNOW THAT." You stepped back, and turned on yourself, grabbing at your hair like a mad woman. "I can't BELIEVE you hid that from me. I can't believe you tried to do that. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH ME? Is this what it is? You don't want to be with me? The thought of being with me was so abhorrent that you asked your leader to FORBID you from telling me?"

Your eyes filled to the brim with angry tears as you confronted him. He chuckled, a dry thing, devoid of any real amusement. "How can you even say that? Now I am an asshole for wanting you to have a choice? For wanting you not to feel obliged to be with me because of some ancient wolf thing? For wanting you to have a choice to escape this life you would have with me?" His eyes were feverish, a particular kind of pain shining in them.

"What- what do you even mean?"

"After what happened to you, I didn't want you to feel tied to me, the reason you were almost killed. That's something I can never change Y/n. Danger and threat will follow me wherever I go." His shoulders slumped miserably. "It's not fair of me to profit from the imprinting process to have you with me. To have you be with someone like me."

There was no sound except for the singing crickets in the night and the sound of the fire softly dying out.

"Jake..." His words extinguished any fire in your chest. You understood better than anyone else the feeling of wanting to protect someone you cared about. You delicately took his face in your hands, "Jacob Black. I want you to understand this and get it through your thick skull. That was not your fault. None of this is. No matter what happened, I... I wouldn't change it. The night of the incident, I remember how happy I was walking to you and the rest of the pack." At that, you looked with love and respect at all the members still surrounding you.

"You can't say that," he whispered painfully, tears in his chocolate eyes. You exhaled and forced his chin up so he'd look at you. "I mean it. I knew you were at Emily's and I know I would still make the same choice of walking over there to be with you. There are no other possible options for me when it comes to you. I need to be where you are."

The atmosphere changed and the other members took it as their exit signal and left you two under the stars. A soft light illuminated his eyes as he looked at you. "How could you ever think I wouldn't want to be with you?" You felt his hands warm your cold cheeks. "Are you really that blind? It's always been you, Y/n. You've changed the trajectory of my life from the moment I laid eyes on you. Even before the wolf stuff, I always knew you were the one for me. I love you Y/n."

A warm fuzzy feeling spread from your head to your toes as you listened to the soft timber of his voice in the cold night. Nothing else mattered at that moment, it was only you and him and the confession he just shared with you.

"So you asked Sam to forbid you from telling me so I could have a choice?"

He nodded, "I didn't trust myself to keep the secret, I can't keep anything from you. If you want to be with me, I want it to be because you... love me, not because you feel you have to respect some ancient wolf thing ritual." You heard his hesitation to utter the word love. Even after all the time you had spent together, doubt and fear still had their claws embedded in his brain.

"You say I must be blind not to have seen your feelings for me, but I'd say you aren't better. Ever since we were kids, it has always been you. The boy who made mud pies with me. My best friend. The person who supported me through everything. The man. The werewolf. You, in all your forms, Jacob. I am yours, and I think I have always been."

He let out a shaky breath, his dark eyes transfixed on your face, his hands limp at his side. He nervously licked his lips, "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded imperceptibly, the rhythm of your own heart accelerating as he bent down. You felt his soft breath fan over your lips and waited patiently until his plush lips met yours. This new contact solidified something inside of your chest, the bond connecting the two of you seemed to tighten, a clear presence you couldn’t ignore anymore. You melted completely into his embrace when his strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you up as your knees wobbled under the intensity of the moment.

You were home. You had found him. Your forever.

Your Jacob.

taglist: @tgarrett26 @twilightlover2007 @butterclove

#ilya writes #jacob black #twilight #jacob black fic #jacob black x reader #jacob black x y/n #twilight au #twilight renaissance #jacob black fluff #jacob black angst #fluff #fluffy #werewolves #shapeshifters #twilight wolfpack

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marsbutterfly · 3 months ago

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A Field Of Sunflowers

a/n: yeah this is based on this post i saw a couple of years ago. anyway hehe enjoy

warnings: NSFW, canon setting, fem! reader, nb! Hanji Zoe, oral sex(f! receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, mentions of alcohol, not beta read (we die like men teehee)

The warm sun feels amazing on your skin. The bruised marks of your as a result of your ODM gear finally fade from your body the longer the areas are allowed to breathe freely.

Finally being able to take a day off and relax away from the prying eyes from the survey corps, you find yourself laying on a blanket atop the grass, a small flower placed behind your ear as you rest your head on your hands.

The sky above you is a shade of blue you have never seen. The clouds dance with each other, forming images and figures that bring giggles out of you. The silly idea that you could easily dip a brush into the color and paint an entire ocean out of you comes to your mind. Maybe the day is just so beautiful that you can't seem to stop smiling.

Or maybe it's the sheer amount of wine that travels through your veins, causing your cheeks to heat up and your breathing to get shaky. A couple of empty bottles sit beside you inside the picnic basket, a third one loosely in your hand as you gasp quietly.

The sunflowers in the field match your yellow dress, the fabric tickling your skin as it's pushed up by an eager hand. A pair of pillowy soft lips leave marks along the skin of your thighs as desperate fingers hook themselves on the edges of your underwear, pulling it down and tossing it on the grass.

The second Hanji's tongue comes in contact with your aching cunt, you can't help but allow a loud moan to escape your throat. The way the tip flickers against your clit, licking the area from top to bottom before slowly entering you causes your head to spin.

Your moans grow in volume, getting higher and louder with each hum that passes through Hanji's mouth. Though you try your best to avoid it, you can feel their gaze focused on your expression, fully taking in not only your juices but the just as delicious expressions you make.

"H-Hanji…" You whimper, crying out their name. The flowers brush against the bare skin on your left arm while the right arm comes down to the area in between your legs, your fingers digging at their head. You can feel the smile that forms on their face, you can tell how proud they are for making you whine and cry out like this.

Hanji wraps both of their arms around your thighs, carefully digging their digits into your skin while holding you perfectly in place. The placement of your hips perfectly aligned with their lips as they continue to feast on you, their cheeks a bright shade of red as the alcohol takes its toll on them.

The suckling sound they make while paying close attention to your folds is enough to draw a warm sensation to your face, your cheeks burning up in embarrassment like you have a fever while you try your best to decide what to do with your hands.

"Will you stay still for me?" They ask, mumbling against your clit. You pout in response to their abrupt interruption but quickly begin to nod, unable to form words as your brain turns to mush. They chuckle in response, knowing how you are getting increasingly desperate, "Good girl."

Without giving you much time to react, they readjust themselves, their nose brushing against your clit while their tongue begins working on your entrance once more. They let go of your left thigh and quickly bring their hand up, pulling down the upper part of your dress and ripping apart the straps that held it over your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the chilly breeze.

You can't contain the yelp that leaves your lips, especially when the palm of their hand perfectly encapsulates your nipple, tightly gripping the sensitive area for dear life. You don't have time to even process what is happening before they make their next move.

You try to keep your promise to remain still, but with their left hand, Hanji carefully inserts a finger inside of you. Your pelvis immediately rises, searching for more contact with their lips and you can feel a small giggle leaving their body.

"So tight, my love," they whisper. Their tongue begins to work on you once more, leaving no part of your pussy unattended: the tip of their nose brushing against your hardening clit, their tongue eagerly working its magic on the inner lips while their finger continuously pumps in and out of you.

Your throat begins to dry as you realize you can't keep your mouth closed for more than a millisecond, let alone swallow anything. Your hand rests on their head, nails fidgeting with the locks as you twist them into knots. With their left index and middle finger, they begin twirling your nipple around while still having the remaining digits squeeze your breast. You close your eyes tightly, the wave of pleasure that continues to wash over you becoming more and more overwhelming with each lap of their tongue.

"You wanna try two fingers?" They ask, a slightly smug tone to their voice. You look down at them, only to see the sun reflecting on those whiskey-brown eyes, your heart almost missing a beat at how angelic they look. A pathetic whimper exits your throat and you nod, feeling Hanji's middle finger tease your entrance, "I need you to ask for it, baby."

You groan and wiggle your hips forward, silently begging for more and hoping it would be enough but, deep down, you know it has never been that easy with Hanji. So you look deep inside yourself to gather any amount of strength you can muster to allow the words to leave your throat, "P-Please… Put two fingers… I-Inside of me."

They don't waste any time before complying with your request, your voice sounding like a beautiful symphony, filled with desire and need. A sound they could spend every second of the day listening to for the rest of their life and never get tired of.

With two fingers now inside, you cry out loudly. The idea that someone might hear you is making its way into your brain so you have to remind yourself of how far away from the city you are. But thinking about anything that isn't Hanji proves itself to be increasingly more difficult.

Hanji continuously swirls their tongue on your folds, their nose paying close attention to your clit and their two fingers continue to stretch you from the inside out, occasionally spreading themselves apart in a scissoring manner and it earns a jerk of your body. You can't help it anymore, the need to move your hips, to search for more contact is overwhelming.

When your walls begin to tighten around their fingers, Hanji realizes you are getting close. Though a part of them wants to tease you for it, to stop their movements and make you beg, their mind suddenly drops the facade once their eyes land on your face once more.

A couple of tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks, your grasp on the bottle of wine finally loosening as you cling to the grass close to your head, you chant their name like a prayer, a sacred word that could heal every wounded soldier in the world.

"Fuck… H-Hanji, I can't…" You cry out, your hips bucking against their face desperately, wanting nothing more than to be close to them. Their breath gets caught in their throat, their tongue beginning to pick up speed, working its magic against your pussy in the hopes of tipping you over the edge.

Their fingers pump in and out of you, down to the third knuckle as they fold inside of you, the tips perfectly brushing against your g-spot and making you see bright stars in the sunny sky. You cry out once more which causes their tongue to swirl around your cunt, taking in every last drop of your essence.

"Come for me, baby," They whisper against your cunt. Those four words are all your body needs to allow itself to fall over the edge. Your hips rise and buck against their face in a rhythm you aren't able to control, and the cry that leaves your chest is so loud, that you are sure anyone within all three walls was able to hear you.

"HANJI!!!!!" You scream, one hand desperately gripping their hair and guiding their face towards the area where it feels best while the other rests above theirs on your breast. You can feel the small chuckle they let out, gently using the tip of their tongue to help you ride out your orgasm for as long as they can.

"Oh, that's my good girl," they whisper, planting gentle kisses on your folds, on your clit and your thighs. They use the edges of your dress to wipe their mouth, a smile plastered on their face and you can tell just how proud they are. Slowly, they make their way up your body, planting kisses over any small piece of exposed skin they can find, their fingers finally making their way out of you.

In a drunken and pleasure-filled haze, you grab their wrist and bring it towards your lips, placing their digits in your mouth. Hanji gasps quietly, a moan escaping their chest as they feel your tongue swirling around their digits, licking away the essence you left behind.

Once you are done and your lips are free, they plant their face against yours, lips meeting in a hunger-filled kiss. The world melting around the both of you and you can swear the sunflowers are facing you, watching carefully over your act of true love.

"Your legs are shaking," Hanji whispers against your lips, their arm wrapping around your waist as they hold you close. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, not in annoyance, but as an aftershock due to the amount of pleasure your body has just experienced.

"I wonder whose fault that is," you manage to whisper and it earns a small giggle out of them. In a quiet voice, you say, "I wish we had more days off.."

"I do too," they whisper back, your arm wrapped around their shoulder as you nuzzle your cheek against the top of their head. After a long pause and a heavy sigh, they continue, "This spot always reminds me of you."

"Oh? And why's that?" You whisper, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth of their skin against you. A smile forms on their face.

"You are always calling me your sunshine," they whisper, lifting their head to take off their glasses, placing the pair on the grass beside them, "It would only make sense that you are my Sunflower."

You chuckle, "I thought I was your Moonlight."

"I dunno, then I just think you are pretty like a sunflower," they mumble, "Ask me again when I'm sober."

You laugh quietly, hugging them a little tighter. You throw one leg on top of theirs and completely tangle your bodies together, your hearts beating as one and, for the first time in forever, you allow yourself to relax in the arms of the one you love most.

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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

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in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you. "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy @dee127

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hibiscuswrites · 9 months ago

Note

If you have the time, could I please request a HC/would include of Ray accidentally dialing the wrong number and it ends up being his future SO? Like maybe he’s in jail and they start talking by accident and it’s a super slow process but they begin to trust each other and end up meeting/falling in love? 🌺

This idea fucked. me. up.

He was just trying to call his boy

Blow off some steam

Shoot the shit before his time ran out and he had to go back to his cell

He was scratching at the paint on the phone while he waited, hearing the line click and expecting to hear the deep voice of his friend

But instead its a much softer voice

One he's never heard before

"Hello?"

And his brows knit because who the fuck is this?

He doesn't have to wonder long though

"Uh, hi. Ray was it? Yeah uh, you have the wrong number. Sorry. I didn't want to hang up before the call connected so you wouldn't waste your time calling again and again. Not sure who you're trying to reach but...this isn't them."

Your laugh is awkward yet...endearing

Soft and light

Such a contrast to what he hears in here

Not to mention, he hasn't had a woman laugh in his ear in quite some time

Even if it's through this shitty phone

He chuckles himself and leans against the wall

"Yeah, I guess not. Tony could never sound so beautiful."

You laugh again and Ray smiles on instinct at the sound

Shocked that you haven't hung up yet

You knew he was an inmate

The collect call always tells you ahead of time

So that meant you stayed on the call and accepted anyway

Just like you said, so he wouldn't waste his call time

And the thought is so selfless that he doesn't wanna hang up

He expects you to though

So he lies

"Well, they don't really let us call another number once we dial. We only get the five minutes with one number. If they don't pick up or we get cut off, tough shit. So maybe we could talk for the next...four minutes and 20 seconds?"

It's a shot in the dark and he's 100% expecting the line to click

"Oh, well...ok. Not sure what you want to talk about, stranger."

You laugh again and so does he

"What's your name?"

The silence stretches for a bit and Ray winces, feeling like he fucked it up

"Nevermind, it's all good. I'll call you Sunshine, since that's how your voice sounds."

He knows it is ridiculous

Spitting game to a girl he doesn't know and will never speak to again, but it's enough to pass the time

Your laugh is sweet like honey when it passes through the receiver and even though he has no idea what you look like, he can almost see you roll your eyes

"Smooth talker, I see."

"I try."

The rest of the call goes by the same, him flirting gently and you laughing until the automated voice signals that the call is going to end in 30 seconds

And against his better judgment, he calls again the next day

And you pick up again

The days pass like that, his light flirting and you entertaining him

He asks what you ate today and you tell him in elaborate detail to where he can almost taste it

Asks what the weather is like and your words are so vivid, it paints the picture for him to where he feels like he can see through your eyes

He longs and yearns for your voice and talks

Soon enough, you've been talking every day, him getting your name and stopping with the flirting once he realizes that he's actually into you

And the days turn into weeks

Weeks into months

You send him a picture of yourself, praying that doing so isn't a mistake

And he sends you one back of himself

You write letters to each other

Video calls when he can

He has another inmate paint a portrait of you and sends it as a gift

And before either of you realize, his release date is coming up

He extends the offer to see if you'd be willing to meet him, and even though he wants to, he wouldn't be hurt or offended if you refused

Proud and understanding of your apprehension

So he offers to meet in a crowded public place if you're willing and you are

Both of you sporting each other under the bright sun in the local farmers market

Your eyes brighter than he ever could've imagined

Your smile enough to make his heart feel like a puddle of warm butter

He stands before you and stuffs his hands into his pockets, itching to touch you but not daring to

"Hi, Sunshine."

And the twinkle in your eye as you gaze at him is enough to convince him that punching the number in wrong that day was the best mistake he's ever made

"Hi, Stranger."

General taglist

@titty-teetee @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak

Ray Merrimen taglist @effie365

#🌺 anon #headcannons #ray merrimen #den of thieves #ray merrimen x reader #pablo schreiber

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yuyan · 11 months ago

Text

To my darling

A/n: Merry Christmas and have a happy new year! I hope you enjoy it @pavo-ocell-me! This was a very fun event that I loved taking part in @2023gisecretsanta

Pairing: Lyney x gn!reader

Tags: Pure fluff! Modern au, implied school/college setting, penpals, pre-established relationship, reader is learning French, where reader lives doesn't have snow, one curse word just one ^^

"Take intermediate French they said. You'll be fine they said," you muttered to no one in particular as you read the Google translation over and over again. "My French teacher is going to kill me."

You rubbed your eyes, peeking out of makeshift pillow your arms made. Standing tall at the front of the class with a booming voice was your French teacher. She held a small, clear glass jar with folded bits of paper inside in one hand while placing a stack of letters on her lectern with her other.

"Speaking with natives is an excellent and necessary way to develop your language skills (unlike this soon to be 30 minute speech) so due to the cancellation of the exchange program for this year and the long dragged on meeting, we have decided to give you all pen pals!" she announced. Her arms held a wide stance, awaiting for something you were unaware of.

Some whispers and small squeals echoed through the lecture hall. Others groaned and put their head on the desk, waiting for celestia, perhaps even an archon to take them. You did neither.

"I wish I could turn back time," you sighed. After contemplating for an hour whether your teacher would ever find out that you used Google translate to write half your letter or not, you started handwriting it on a stack of fancy paper you really shouldn't have been able to afford. "Shell never know. It's not like he can tell her anyways."

As you dragged your pen along the piece of paper, you remembered the speech about how necessary this was, the small piece of paper you pulled out of the bag and the letter that came with it. With a small smile playing on your lips, you signed off and stuck the small paper that read "lyney" just below your name with a paper rainbow rose you made yourself. It had its imperfections but it's similarity to the fresh ones he sent you left you content.

"Oh my god why did he reply so fast?" you asked yourself. Not even 3 days later and you received another letter from lyney. You traced the grooves of the red wax seal made you shiver. He wouldn't ever know you used google translate right? With pursed lips, you opened it. Perfume immediately muddled your senses as you opened up the envelope. Your peers hadn't even sent their first letter, let alone receive their second.

As you skimmed over the letter, you took down some notes like where he's from–which was so uncessary–what he likes to do and some of his contact details. You hummed, giving yourself imaginary pats on the back for reading a whole three sentences before typing the other two paragraphs into Google translate. You really needed to switch classes, desperately.

It was only then you spotted that a sentence in french came out the same in the translation. "You really shouldn't be using Google translate for these letters," written at the very bottom. Well fuck.

"You are friends with your penpal? Well that's lovely (name)," your French teacher clapped with bright sparkles in her eyes. It blinded you for a second and you had to look away before you lost the ability to see forever.

Instagram

(potato_name):lyney sent a reel.

(potato_name):lyney sent a picture.

(potato_name):lyney sent you a mes...

I didn't use Google translate for this one. Are you proud of me? You wrote at the bottom before slipping the letter into its envelope and sealing it with the new wax stamp set you bought recently.

You rushed back home. You winced at the clatter of your laptop in your bag hitting the floor, deciding it was a problem for future you. Ripping open the envelope and skimming through the letter, you read at the very bottom 'I am proud of anything you do, mon Cheri."

A smile broke out onto your lips as you neatly kept it away in a small box your mother got you from Fontaine when you were little. The small box was made of white marble with gold outlining its edges and gathering in a few swirls in the middle where the golden clasp rested.

The Sun shone brightly despite it being the middle of December. Rays of Sunlight squeezed through your closed curtains and you wondered if it was snowing in Fontaine right now. Did Lyney like playing in the snow?

Letters became less and less frequent as your peers lost motivation in writing long drawn out of paragraphs with nothing but small talk. A year and a half had passed yet your teacher held a strong morale despite the head of languages not enforcing this penpals program anymore. Even they must have gotten tired of the back and forth.

A few days until Christmas holidays. Opening your phone, you checked to see if lyney had texted you anything. Nothing...

Your eyes kept glossing over your texts from Friday 11am. Its been a week. Pictures of him and his two siblings who added you back on Instagram. Even Lynette had texted you today, showing some new tea she bought from inazuma last week.

Lynette

My brother has been writing non-stop for the past few days. Are you guys still doing the penpals thing?

You

No, maybe he is writing to someone else?

Your stomach dropped as you reread your message. "Writing to someone else...I need fresh air." You took your phone and wallet and headed out the door.

"Where are you going?" your roomate called out but you were already heading to the lift. You ran your fingers through your hair, pushing it out of your face with a sigh. It shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter but this is the fifth time you've checked your phone this morning and its been a week with only a read tag.

"I seriously need to ban myself from my phone."

Lynette

Oh...nevermind. I'll ask him then.

Sent Friday 10 : 39am

"The christmas carnival was so much funner this year," your friend said, laughing. Then one hiccup escaped from her mouth. And then another one. Until you and your other friend bursted out laughing. "Not funny!"

"Yeah yeah. I still can't believe (Name) won that plushie from that shooting stall," your other friend said. He tossed another chip in his mouth, after finally calming down from his laughter.

"I'm surprised too. Those games are typically so rigged, I mean did you see the look on the owner's face though?" you said.

Holding up the little classic brown teddy bear, you admired it at all angles. Its red bow had a little bell hanging from the centre, jingling as you walked.

Its silly smile matched yours and then you noticed it. The small teddy's bowtie resembled the one Lyney wore in one of the pictures he sent. And the small envelope the size of your palm that the teddy held was a real one made of paper.

"(Name)? Whats wrong?"

"Nothing! I just realised my parents wanted me back at 10 and well its 11 so I have to go," you said with a bright smile, "Bye!"

"You live in a dorm though?" your friend countered, "(Name)!" But you were already walking out of the festival gates.

Picking out the small envelope, you brushed your thumb over the grooves of the wax seal. The same wax seal that you used for the last letter you sent. Did he really get the same stamp?

A mini rainbow rose fell out. The vibrant colours provided a stark contrast to the humid summer night. One letter. Five words. I love you, Mon cheri.

Your eyes widened and you nearly dropped the letter, fumbling with it for a bit. Taking in the cool nighttime breeze, you looked up only to see the person you hadn't talk to in a week standing only a few metres away from you.

Lyney held a bouquet of vibrant rainbow roses in one hand and the other behind his back.

"How are you..?" You took as step back, your gaze falling to the floor then back up at him again.

"I told you I'm a magician in one of my letters didn't I?" Lyney started, "I would appear anywhere if it was to be with you."

#genshin x reader #yuyan writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfiction #fanfiction #lyney x reader #lyney #lyney fluff #modern au

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dnsleif · 2 years ago

Text

itoshi rin x reader. fluff and silly :3

you’ve reached the end of your high school life. standing with itoshi rin, diplomas in hand, amongst the bustling crowd, neither of you say a word. friends are saying goodbye to each other while crying, parents are saying how proud they are of their kids; in the middle of it all is the soccer player and you, unbelievably stiff and unbearably quiet. the two of you simply watch the people around you, perhaps not knowing what to say.

you speak out, finally, “let’s keep in touch, okay?” you look at the dark-haired boy in front of you, tears brimming in your eyes.

“y/n,” rin says in a flat tone, eyes boring into you. maybe he’s going to denounce the proposition of keeping in contact with each other, the glare on his face certainly giving way to that line of thinking.

“stop acting like we’re not moving to europe together in a few months. it’s weird.”

and in a moments notice, all the tears that were once threatening to spill out disappear. the liquid in your eyes were quite abruptly replaced with a scowl as you jut your lower lip out and furrow your eyebrows.

“rin!” a light slap to his arm. “why would you ruin the moment like that!”

“there was no ‘moment.’ you were just being unnecessarily dramatic,” his voice is still steady, obviously not amused by your antics.

you click your tongue at his response, still pouting at his inability to play along. “everyone else here is crying and saying their goodbyes. i just wanted to get a sense of the lives they lead,” you let out a (dramatic) sigh after explaining yourself.

he raised an eyebrow at your words. “you never showed up to class, anyway. their lives are too out of your reach for you to even pretend.”

“rin!” you look at him with wide eyes, surprised (not) that he would stoop that low. “well, if it wasn’t for me, you would have failed all your classes besides english and dropped out! how can you be a world-renowned star without a high school education?”

it was rin’s turn to look at you with wide eyes. “a soccer player doesn’t need to know trigonometry or any of that other lukewarm shit!”

you let out a defeated sigh, knowing he was right. you knew that no matter what, you could never beat rin in an argument; he was far too stubborn and hot-headed. so, you’d rather not even try any longer.

“do you not feel even the teeniest bit sad, rin?” you ask, genuinely curious at his answer.

“no,” his answer was immediate, looking straight into your eyes. “you said it already. you were the only thing keeping me here or i would’ve dropped out.” despite his stoic face and his zero-hesitation at saying it, you could see the tips of his ears growing red (and it certainly wasn’t because of the late-spring air).

a bright smile was slowly making its way across your face, a tell-tale sign that you were about to tease the living daylights out of the boy in front of you. rin’s reaction to that face, the one he knows all too well, was to abruptly clear his throat before speaking once again, trying to distract from the words he just said. “what about you? are you sad?”

you let out a hum at his question while wrapping your arms around his neck. still smiling, you lean in closer to his face, “how can i be when you say things like that?”

rin’s ears are growing more and more flushed, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching forward and placing a hand on your waist. he’s embarrassed from his words, he’s embarrassed from your words, yet he still keeps eye contact with you.

your faces are so close together at this point that rin can’t hold back any longer. he’s never been one for public displays of affection but everyone’s distracted and no one’s paying attention to the two of you. you’re just two blurred faces in a giant sea of bodies, or at least that’s what he tells himself to justify his next actions.

he grabs the back of your neck, other hand still on your waist and pulls you forward until your lips are crashing into his own. he kisses you as though he’s trying to convey all the things he can’t say with his voice, all the feelings he can’t quite articulate into words.

you kiss him back and think that perhaps you needed no tears or dramatic goodbyes in order for this day to be special. you were in a different situation than the rest, it’s always been that way with rin. so, it just makes sense that the two of you don’t blend into the hundreds of tear-stained faces.

you kiss him back and you’re excited, not sad.

amongst the crowd of graduates is the two of you, neither having shed a single tear for the high school days that are now long-gone; for the both of you knew that this was anything but an ending.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #pray the readmore works or ill explode #I LOVE RIN

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year ago

Text

Interdimensional Hell - Miguel O'Hara

notes - FOR THE POLL!!!! This has been in the works for a while, but here it is! It's a long ass fic with my whole heart and soul packed into it (+ the beautiful addition of not being proofread lolol) and I am so exited to share! I hope my Miguel lovers enjoy this fic!! <3 word count - 4,060 (omfg this is my longest fic on tumblr LMFAOOOO) WARNINGS - lots of angst, not proofread, f!reader, mentions of a near panic attack summary - you were Miguel O'Hara's wife. You were more than happy to be with someone like him, but was unfortunately taken away from your family when your world was torn apart by what looked like a glitching videogame. Now you travel through dimension after dimension looking for your family and will stop at nothing to do so while also having some fun along the way

“Gabriella!” You were close to tears as your daughter ran to you, jumping into your arms.

“Mamma, did you see that?” she said with a bright smile, sweat beading on her forehead. “When I kicked the ball, it was like BAM and then it went FWOOSH and then we won!!”

“I did see that, baby. I am so darn proud of you.” You pinched her nose, giving it a little kiss as your husband walked up holding an ice cream cone.

“Did you see that, papa?” she asked as he handed her the ice cream.

“Of course I did. You are so talented.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. She thanked him for the cone and giggled as he threw her on his back for a piggyback ride.

“You got that on video, didn’t you, Miguel?” you asked, scruffing Gabriella’s hair.

“Yup.” he responded, bouncing Gabriella and telling her how proud he was of her. God, his smile was perfect.

You pulled out the camera from its bag and filmed your husband and daughter. Literally nothing could be better than this.

Gabreiella giggled and made fun of Miguel before slamming the ice cream in his face, the two breaking out in laughter. When he set her on the ground, he gave her a five second head start to run out in the field before he would come after her, telling her to be careful with the ice cream.

He looked up at you and you giggled. “Miguel, you’re face, love.”

“What? What’re you–” he chuckled as he wiped ice cream off of his face. “Did I get it?” he asked.

“Hold on.” You set down the camera and pulled a baby wipe out of your bag, dabbing it on Miguel’s face.

“It’s been five seconds now!” Gabriella shouted from the other side of the field.

Miguel kissed your cheek and dashed after his daughter. You smiled at the camera before turning it off.

Nothing lasts forever.

You heard that from everyone, but you hated that it was true.

Even the happiest month of your life can turn to shit really fast.

When the world started glitching, you thought you were losing your mind. You worked from home and Miguel was out with Gabriella for the day. You looked to the corner of your room and it… glitched. Like something out of a movie. You never told anyone, especially when it kept happening. You thought that no one else saw it, that it was your mind playing tricks.

But when it kept happening, you knew something was wrong.

And when the world ended, you were right, and you knew you would never see your family ever again.

You ran out into the streets and saw people running, the world behind them disappearing, and even some of them faded into nothingness. You wanted to scream, cry, anything. But you froze, watching the colossal whatever it was coming for you. And then you saw something else. It looked different than the giant glitching wall. It was small and no bigger than the gap under a bed. You jumped in without even thinking. You were going to die anyway, so why not be a little reckless?

As you felt like you were falling for days, you thought of your daughter. Why didn’t you go after her? You felt like a terrible mother and curled into a ball, crying. No one was coming to save you and you weren't coming to save anyone. The world wasn’t what it used to be a month ago, a week ago, hell, it wasn’t even this bad a day ago. You cried for your family, knowing that you couldn't do a thing for them and then everything went black.

—

“Is she alive?” you heard a voice say, but couldn't see where it came from.

“I sure hope so. I don't get paid enough for someone to die here.”

“Well check!”

You felt cold hands brush your forehead and you jerked awake, coughing and trying not to scream.

“Woah, woah!” you heard the voice from the start say. “Everything’s fine. We’re not gonna hurt you.” You saw that the voice came from a boy with bright blonde hair and a cybernetic eye.

The other one was a man with brown hair, who looked like he could crush you – tan skin and muscles bigger than you.

You went to say something, but glitched, making the two men jump back.

“Woah there!” the blonde one said. “You’re not from here, are you?”

You just shook your head and could already feel a headache forming.

“I don't have time for this,” the bigger one said. “I have a shop to run.”

“At least give the girl a watch! She looks stressed out enough and I think the last thing we need to do is have her glitching.”

“I think the last thing we need to do is deal with someone that isn't from here. That happens far too often, don't you think, Spike? You have too much sympathy for the outsiders.”

“And what if I do?” Spike asked, crossing his arms. “I don't think you have enough, Wade.”

Spike walked away from you and opened a large cabinet from above Wade’s head, pulling out a bright green watch. He slipped it on your wrist and proceeded to click a few buttons and everything tense inside of you strangely managed to slip away.

You took a deep breath and smiled at Spike. “Thank you,” you said to him. “It’s been a really long day.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled. “First time out of your dimension?”

You nodded and adjusted the watch.

“Well, make sure to keep that bad boy locked in place. Don't want to be outside of your dimension without one or else… well, think bad, but worse.” He sat in a rolly chair and spun to his computer. “Can you do me a favor, missy?”

“Anything.” you said. He had been more than willing to help you, so you were more than willing to do the same.

“Stand on that little circle over there for me.” He pointed to a large purple circle in the middle of the room and you tilted your head, but still walked over to it with no hesitation.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“I'm gonna scan you, but don't be scared. This bad boy will help you get home safe.”

You went to speak up, telling him that you weren’t so sure it was a good idea, but he interrupted you.

“Wade, help me out here! Let’s get her out of here.”

“Finally.” Wade scoffed. He walked over to you and held your arms up, strapping them to two mechanical devices on either side of you that then held your arms to make you in the shape of a Y.

“This won't hurt a bit, doll.” Spike said, clicking a button on his computer. A bright light scanned you up and down and you looked at Spike, who held his chin and tilted his head. “Huh. That’s weird. Let me try again.” He clicked the button again and looked at you with confusion. When the cycle finished, he looked astonished. “Babe, where did you say you were from again?”

“That’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you.” you said, shuffling in your spot. “My world was a big glitching mess. And then I found a little hole and appeared here. I don't know if I have a home anymore.”

Wade sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. “Great,” he whispered. “This can't be good.”

Spike leaned back in his chair and looked at the confusion on your face. “This isn’t your fault, love. But bad news, you can't go home. Because uh… I don't think home exists for you.”

All you remember after that was crying. You sat on the floor after the devices let you go and Spike rubbed your back, reassuring you that everything was going to be okay.

Of course, you knew that everything wasn’t going to be okay.

You were already exhausted and you realized it hadn’t even been a day.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” you asked, playing with the watch you were given.

“I would be more than happy to let you stay here,” Spike said, rubbing your back. “We have an extra room, we just have to clean it out a bit.”

“I don't want to be a burden.”

“It’ll just be for a little while,” he reassured you. “Now, I know this cyberpunk city of ours can seem like a lot once you step out of this little shop, but I think after a little bit of time, you can find a job and even your own home.”

You just nodded. You didn't have a clue what the word “cyberpunk” meant, but it sounded interesting enough. After realizing that you were still on the floor, you finally stood up and looked around the little place you were in. There were light up trinkets and soft beeps coming from either side of the room. It was so overwhelming. At home you were able to just sit on a couch and watch TV and in here, it looked like the only place you could rest was a chair that could roll across the floor.

To get your bearings wherever you were, you opened the front door and were immediately overstimulated. There were loud sirens, people yelling, doors slamming, advertisements that were yelling about various products, etc.

You quickly shut the door behind you and Wade laughed at the expression on your face.

“What’s so funny?” you scoffed.

He just waved you off and Spike walked over to you. “Wade and I know exactly how you feel. We were just as overwhelmed when we ended up here.”

“You’re not from here?”

“Nope! So, don't worry, your reaction and overwhelmingness is completely normal. Do you want something to eat?”

You hadn't even thought about food, but when asked the question, noticed how hungry you really were. “Yes please.” you said softly.

Spike walked down a long hall and you followed, not wanting to be left alone with Wade.

“So what was your home like?” he asked.

“Normal.” you laughed. You really didn't know how to answer that question.

He laughed back. “Not like this at all, I'm guessing.”

“Not at all.”

“See, ours was kind of like this,” Spike said as you got to the kitchen. “It was very techy, so we immediately knew what to do when we started ‘glitching’ if that’s what you wanna call it. We also know how to travel interdimensionally. That's how we ended up here. We traveled outside of our home and never found a way to get back. That machine couldn’t even tell us. I think what happened to your home also happened to ours while we were gone.”

“That sounds awful.”

Spike laughed. “Yeah, definitely awful. We’ve traveled everywhere, it feels like, but we just never found home. This was almost the closest to it. It looks like home in the future.”

“That makes sense.” It didn't, but it did. You didn't know how else to share your sympathy with him, especially considering the whole thing felt like an awful dream that you would never wake up from.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked you as he slid over your plate.

“No clue,” you admitted. “Maybe it’s delusional, but I want to find my family.”

“You found a way out. So maybe they did too.”

Just those few words from Spike’s mouth gave you hope. Perhaps too much.

—

Learning new things is really difficult, but you found yourself learning how to travel through space and time to be a piece of cake, to your surprise.

That hope that Spike had engraved in you when you first met years ago was still stuck in you and would always be until you found your family.

Even if you had to search until the day you died, you would be satisfied.

The craziest part of the whole thing though was that you became someone completely different over the years. You found yourself learning how to make your own tech to make interdimensionally traveling easier and buying clothes that made you look much different than you did back at home.

But you were lonely.

You met so many lovely people on your journey through this new life you created for yourself over the years, but none of them would stay like Miguel did. You even eventually drifted from Spike and Wade, getting your own house and having your own machines.

You would curl up and eat dinner by yourself on the balcony, dreaming to be in Miguel’s arms and listen to him hum a song to you in his deep voice.

—

“Hey, Miguel.” Lyla said, blowing on her nails she recently painted. “Whatcha doin?”

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed. “Working. What does it look like I'm doing?”

“It looks like you're pouting. Not working. Nice try, but you can't fool me, buddy.” Lyla smirked.

“I'm not pouting! Why would I be pouting, Lyla? Hm? Now could you please leave me alone? You’re ruining my train of thought.”

“Now that’s just mean.” Lyla pouted.

Miguel blew a piece of his hair out of his eye and tried to sweep her away, which ended up making her leave with a giggle.

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before turning back on his monitor to see your face.

“Miguel!” you giggled. “Smile for the camera.” You turned the camera to a happier Miguel. Someone who actually had a smile on his face.

A stranger.

Miguel quickly shut the monitor off before he would let himself be brought to tears. It was his fault you were gone. It was his fault he was in his current position. If he didn't fuck everything up and pretend he was your husband, none of this would’ve happened.

“Lyla, I'm going out.”

“Huh? Where?” She appeared with a digital Slurpee and tilted her head.

“Just out.”

“Bored outta your mind, big boss man.”

“Sure, whatever, just leave me alone.”

Lyla saluted and faded away. He didn't know where to go, but he would just go. With the power of the entire multiverse at his hands, it was hard to just find one place to go, but even so, it was nice to breathe some fresh air in other places.

Plus with the chance of seeing you…

He pulled the thought out of his mind. He watched his daughter fade away in his arms, there was no way that you were okay too. And god, did he hate himself for it. But even so, he repressed the feelings and journeyed to other universes, meeting other Spidermen and even greater foes – eyebags and all.

—

Where the hell am I? you thought as you ended up in a dimension unlike any you had been to before. It was so different from the others that for the first time in years, you actually had to pause.

You placed your hands on your hips and looked at the world around you. It reminded you of playing video games where you would go to other worlds and you yourself would change textures to match the ones around you. Unfortunately, the texture didn't go with you, so you were left as an actual human in a cartoon world.

The life you were living was definitely a dreamlike state and the thought of it made you laugh as you led yourself through the city.

This was the part you actually loved. You got to see what life was like for others through different dimensions and the struggles they had to deal with. Granted, it wasn't much different from your life when you weren’t forced to live like this, but either way, you still found it fun to see how different, yet similar it really was.

Sometimes you would end up in dimensions you had been to a thousand times or sometimes you would end up somewhere new.

Your favorite part though: everywhere had a Spiderman. And every Spiderman was just as unique as the last.

In this world, it seemed to be some pig, which was both hilarious and intriguing. You had seen a lot in your day, but never a pig Spiderman. You loved it though and seeing posters of him around this odd city made you laugh.

But you knew it was time to leave the moment you stepped in. You liked the crazy stuff, but this was a little too crazy for your liking.

Right as you opened a portal though, you heard a loud sound not too far away from you. You figured it was a fight that Spiderpig had gotten himself into, and were ready to leave, but you turned around to see something much crazier.

Not only was Spiderpig fighting, but there was another Spiderman with him. You couldn't help but stand in awe after you closed the portal you made.

He was dressed in dark blue and red and didn't look at all like the other Spidermen you had seen before. Something about him was not only different, but so so intriguing.

The fight didn't last long since the two were working hard to get it done quickly. So when they did finish, the tall Spiderman put Spiderpig on his shoulders and gave him a fistbump.

You had only noticed you were still just standing in the street and staring when the Spiderman froze.

You giggled nervously and muttered out a quick “good job guys” before turning down an alleyway so you could teleport out of there.

But right as you began down the alley, you felt something grab your wrist. When you turned around, it was that tall Spiderman, who tilted his head at you.

“y/n?” he said.

You took a step back. “S-Sorry?”

“Is your name y/n?”

You nodded and he pulled you into his arms before opening a portal very much like your own.

You ended up in a world with complete darkness, minus the bright yellow computers surrounding the walls. You looked at the place with curiosity, but were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you saw the Spiderman pacing the room back and forth and muttering to himself.

“Hey, are you alright?” you chuckled.

“How are you… How did you… Hold on, I need a minute.” He finally sat down and grabbed his chin. “Were you married?”

You laughed, thinking this was some sort of joke. “Yes, I was. To a man named Miguel. Why?”

“What the fuck?” he said under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

“How are you alive?!”

Just then, you recognized that voice. Everything from your past hit you like a semi and you fell to your knees, tears immediately filling your sockets.

“M-Miguel? Miguel, is that you?” you managed to get out.

The mask of his Spider-suit dematerialized and he looked at you with shock.

You looked at him the same and felt like you couldn't breathe. After all those years. After all that searching…

He ran to you and dropped on his knees, pushing your hair out of your face. “How did you…”

“How did you?” you giggled somehow, grabbing Miguel’s face and looking it over. Despite the eyebags and the new muscular features, that man was definitely your husband.

“I…” he started, but you pulled him into your arms. You hugged him until neither of you could breathe.

When you pulled away, you looked at him with so much excitement that it made him regret everything. He had lied to you for years and you were looking at him the same way you looked at your real husband who died.

“I can't believe you made it out alive, Miggy! Where’s Gabriella? I bet she’s all grown up and–”

“G-Gabriella’s gone.” The words felt like another 100 lbs weighed his chest down.

You looked at him with confusion. “She didn't make it?” you asked softly.

“No. She didn't. This is all my fault.” he buried his face in his hands.

“No it's not. How could any of this be your fault?” you rubbed his back.

“No, y/n,” he scooted back, every regret from his life filling him up and making him on the near edge of a panic attack. “This is my fault. I made this happen.”

“Miguel, I–”

“I'm not even your husband!” he cried out. He never felt like this before. He didn't even feel like Miguel. But something cracked in him when he saw you, and it was going to end up killing him if he didn't talk to you about it.

You laughed. “What? Of course you are.”

“Your husband died a very long time ago.”

“I'm so confused.” you admitted.

“I know. And I'm sorry.” he pulled you closer and sat down on the floor next to you. “Look, I was your husband. At least for a while. A couple months maybe. But your real husband… the Miguel O’Hara from your world… he died. I took his place. I wanted to be happy.” Slowly, the feeling of the near panic attack was going away the more he spoke to you. He explained everything. About how much he truly loved you and about how much he regretted destroying everything, including your daughter. He told you that he was selfish for what he did and admitted that if he could go back and never be with you just so you could have a fulfilled life with Gabriella and no Miguel, everything would be fine. He explained canon events and how the world worked for Spidermen like him and the rest of the multiverse.

Everything was so confusing, but based on everything you had been through, you weren't surprised.

You had seemingly loved a stranger for months and didn't even know it. But… he wasn't, that was the most confusing part. That man, Miguel O’Hara. Spiderman 2099. That was the man you fell in love with, even if you weren't a part of his dimension.

The whole situation shocked you to your core, but there was no going back now.

You laughed for some reason when he was done telling you everything. You really couldn't believe it. But again, you weren't surprised.

Miguel didn't mean to spill everything onto you, but it made him feel so much better. Tears were streaming down his face and he was trying to repress them when he saw how confused you looked.

“y/n, I am so sorr–”

You quickly cut him off by pulling him into your arms. Real husband or not, this poor man had to suffer through everything and now has the whole multiverse on his back to take care of because he feels like it’s his responsibility. He blamed himself for everything for years all because of a stupid accident.

But you weren't mad. He didn't know what would happen and all he wanted was to be happy. You didn't want to put more on him, so you just held him for a moment and let him sit there with you in silence.

Even if you didn't know this Miguel as well as you knew your husband, he was still Miguel.

“Don't blame yourself,” you whispered. “It's okay.”

He just pulled back from the hug and wiped his hair out of his face. “I'm sorry you had to live like you have been.” he told you.

“It was kinda fun.” You hugged your knees.

“The multiverse is definitely something, huh?”

You smiled and cupped Miguel’s face in your hands. You had been traveling for years all for this. Granted, you got a story out of it that you weren't expecting, but still. Miguel was in front of you again and you felt strangely at home.

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “I wanna try this again.” you said. “With us.”

“What do you mean?”

“First.” You pulled him by the front of his suit and pressed a long and needed kiss to his lips. He melted to your lips quickly, but the feeling ended quickly when you pulled away.

“What do you mean ‘try again?’ ” he asked.

“I'm y/n.” You stuck out your hand and smiled at him.

“I'm Miguel.” He took your hand and sighed with relief.

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Maybe we should go on a date sometime.”

~~~~~

into the spiderverse masterlist | pinned post 2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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sebastianswallows · 4 months ago

Text

The English Client — Thirty-six

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir @thiefofthecrowns

It wasn’t until the afternoon that she and Tom were free to leave the station. A few of the Baron’s closest friends, among them Signor Luce, had vouched for their presence at the shop the night before, although none of the parties would explain why they were there at all. From the looks exchanged between Inspector Bombulo and the sergeant, they must have suspected something foul. Human trafficking, probably… But nothing that they could accuse the Baron’s wealthy friends of. Caught in the middle of this cavalcade and seeming innocent, they were released.

The two went home together and stayed quiet the whole way. The morning trams had just started running, but they felt none of the exhaustion that they should have. Adrenaline ran its shrill course through both of them. Tom went with her to her flat without even asking and privately dreaded what she’d say when they were finally in the safety of her room, but she prolonged his suffering and continued to say nothing much at all. Every time he looked at her he could see her eyes wide with fear and dark with grim foreboding. She always did love to fret so much, his dear…

“Is my Italian really that bad?” he asked as they were taking their shoes off.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes and finally smiled. “Not half as bad as your French.”

He was relieved to have even gotten an insult from her — something which only weeks ago would’ve been outrageous to him.

She undressed, then gently stripped the clothes off him as well. Donatien’s clothes. If Tom had much life left in him he would’ve blushed. Without even asking how he’d come to wear them — had she even caught him changing back from the Polyjuice potion? — she threw them to the side and hugged him, skin melting against skin. He read in it apologies and supplications for having kissed Donatien, but could only smile. He had been the one to tempt her, after all.

“It was a horrible night,” she muttered against his chest.

“Oh, I don’t think it was so bad,” said Tom with a thin smile, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

“Of course you don’t. You finally got what you wanted.”

Too proud to ask for her forgiveness, Tom said nothing more, and in the bright morning, they went to bed together. He found that he preferred the silence. If neither of them said a word they could pretend the night had never happened, that everything was just as it was before, and would keep being so without such a fast-approaching end to all of it. But he could feel her holding onto him more tightly than she ever did, and he might’ve done the same. With fingers intertwined, she clasped his hand in hers as if to dream was to risk being cast adrift.

They were woken up quite late, at around six in the evening, by the ringing of the telephone. She rolled out of bed like a clumsy little storm and picked up before Tom could even groan.

“Yes?” she sighed. “Hello, mother. Yes, I sound tired because I am. No, I —” A pause in contemplation. “No, you know what, yes, I did just wake up.” The ghost of angry chiding on the other end. “Because I came in late last night. Anyway, how are you?”

Tom, lying on his stomach and so sleepy he could hardly feel his body, turned his head to look at her. There was a different quality to her voice that day, an impetuousness, a sharpness, something consummately stronger. He knew he’d had no part in it but he still felt quite proud.

“No,” she sighed, “I can’t tell you why. Because I can’t. And actually, I don’t even want to tell you. That’s right. Fine then. Fine. Go ahead, hang up.”

She slammed the receiver down as soon as it began to beep. Then, like a naked warrior emerging from the heat of battle, she fell upon the bed and groaned. Tom chuckled as he watched her cuddle close to him again and opened his arms to receive her.

III

“Mmmm… What time is it?”

“Half past one.”

“Damn.”

“I made tea.”

“Is it magic tea?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!”

“Do you want it or not?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then sit up.”

“Thank you…”

“And to answer your question, yes, I did brew it with magic.”

“REALLY???”

“Careful! You’ll spill it!”

The whole day was wasted, at least from Tom’s point of view. He was stared at as if she could just by looking at him discover yet newer and more fascinating things about him. And the questions, the endless questions… She wanted to know where he’d learned everything and could hardly believe that it was in a school. Tom must have made it sound like the most ordinary thing — because, to him, it was. She was expecting, of course, that it was from some hermit living in a cave or a secret cult of witches, or from a book that she too could have found and read. Tom had to tell her with a secret little sting in his heart that it was not possible.

Then, quite reasonably, she wanted to know just what he’d done to Mr. Malfoy.

“I can’t tell you. But it’s harmless, I promise.”

He’d brought the book home as well, still in its decorative box. It amused him how although she’d handled it extensively the night before, now she was too afraid to touch it. She stared at it intensely though after Tom took it out. They made plans together on where to hide it. There was no indication that the Carabinieri would visit them at home but he wanted to prepare just in case.

“I’ll be damned if I let it fall into muggle hands again.”

“What’s a muggle?”

“…Nevermind.”

In the end, he decided to disguise it as a box of matches. It took several minutes for her to close her mouth after she saw him perform the simple spell, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute.

“They’ll get suspicious if they see it and notice you don’t smoke, though,” she said once she came back to her senses. “Especially considering they’re investigating arson at the Baron’s library.”

“…Packet of chewing gum, then.” He’d never before been so happy to have such a clever girlfriend.

“So you can just… change something into something else?”

“Magic would be very dull if it couldn’t even accomplish that, wouldn’t it?”

“And people too?”

“Well…”

“And people too?”

“To be specific, that’s a potion.”

“TOM!”

“OW!” he shouted as she hit him in the arm. He realised now whenever she’d done it before she was only playing at it.

“I knew he sounded strange!”

“The potion doesn’t change your voice, I had to — Ow!”

“And you made me feel bad about it!”

“You chose to feel bad. Ah, stop it!”

Fortunately, she was too distracted with hitting every part of him she could reach to ask what happened to the real Donatien. With any luck, she never would know.

Slowly, as they always did, they made up, and to wash all the unpleasantness out of her mind the faster Tom suggested they go out. They went for a walk, stopping for a quick meal at the first clean restaurant they saw, and by sunset, they found themselves before the Baron’s building.

There was still a little crowd outside and a police car that was empty, but they’d missed most of the fuss. The fire had been contained before it consumed the whole building, but the library was completely destroyed. The newspapers were reporting speculation that the blaze was the result of an occult ritual gone wrong, and by the time the two of them joined the onlookers the latest whisper was that the old man had tried to open a portal to hell. Tom couldn’t be happier.

“I won’t ask why you’re smiling.”

“Good.”

“But I know you shouldn’t.”

“Oh come now, don’t you find it at least a little bit amusing? And fitting?”

“You’re horrid.”

“You’ve only just noticed?”

She sighed but kept holding his hand.

“What happens now?” she asked as they started walking home.

“What do you mean?”

“Will you leave me?”

A lump formed in his throat and he had to force the words out. It was a struggle to speak calmly, smoothly, with no sign of a tremble in his voice.

“I have to.”

“But why?! You’re a… you’re a wizard,” she whispered, even though there was nobody around anymore. “You can live anywhere, do anything!”

“If only it were that simple…”

Her face was such a perfect melding of angry and sad. It was, in fact, perfect in every way.

“You just think I’m not good enough for you, don’t you?” she said, standing before him with heartbroken fury.

The thought had crossed his mind. It was actually one of the favourite things he told himself when he needed a reminder that he’d have to leave. But the longer he searched for an answer for her, the more he was confronted with the looming phantom of a thought — the truth was in fact the opposite: he’d never felt good enough for her.

“Tom,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Just tell me…”

“Why? Would it give you great pleasure in hearing it?”

“No,” she said with a pained smile. Her voice wavered with unshed tears. “But I’d rather hear it than keep thinking it. Pull it out of my head and be done with it.”

Her voice struck Tom like a blade, like a talon, like a thorn caught somewhere between his heart and ribs that pained him with every breath. It would’ve been so easy to say it, just as he’d found it easy to think it, but the words got stuck along the way and choked him.

It started snowing just then, the first snow of the year. Neither of them cared to look at it. Her face was veiled behind her foggy breath and slowly stars of snowflakes gathered in the soft canopy of her hair. Tom reached to touch one and let his gloved hand linger until he could cup her face. She stepped closer, a lost doe seeking warmth, and pressed her hands against the lapels of his coat.

“Ask me to come along with you again,” she said. “Ask me one more time, just like you used to.”

He cocked a brow. That was the last thing he had expected her to say. Every time he’d offered she shot him down, and now? She knew just as well as he did that it would look suspicious, given the circumstances. But something in her voice was… desperate. Was she really as in love with him as she seemed to be, or was she just expecting him to get her out of trouble?

“Ask me,” she said again.

“Why? You’ve said no plenty of times.”

In truth, he’d only asked her to join him in England in an attempt to gain her trust — to get closer to the book. The Polyjuice solution had made her no longer necessary as he could get the book from Malfoy directly in a way that satisfied the protection spells around the shop. But standing before him she seemed genuinely hurt in a way Tom couldn’t comprehend — or didn’t want to. He had barely begun to comprehend his own feelings, fraught as they were.

Her jaw was tight, her eyes smouldered, and Tom remained silent and unmoving. Whatever it was she thought, she didn’t say it. Instead, she turned sharply on her heels and left. Or would have. Tom had gripped her elbow and he would not let her go.

“Why do you wish to leave with me? Why now?”

She threw a frown at him, so angry at his rejection that it clouded all her thoughts. She said nothing but it didn’t stop Tom from trying to read her mind.

“Why?” he asked again.

But she ripped herself out of his grip before he could read her thoughts and turned away, trotting through the soft floating snow.

He plated the book in front of him and it landed with a gentle thud. With the reverence of a bridegroom on a wedding night, Tom reached down and pulled the cloth away and saw the horrid face of dead dry leather, stitched up, shining in the candlelight. He had to convince himself he was worthy of touching it. It wasn’t every day he read a book written by the devil. He spent a few moments just contemplating the cover, the feel of it, the binding, the scent of an old corpse... Books like this should be savoured. It was like a whole new world one stepped in with their fingers, a mind cracked open like a shout of thunder crashing through the air.

What craftsmanship that had gone into it, what care… Going as far as selecting the right skin for it, the blood to make the ink, the parchment lacquered in black wax to make the pages shine. Someone had loved this book with all the fervour and the pain of a mother giving birth, and throughout its lengthy life so far, it had known many other loves. Obsessive, possessive love, yet reverent as well. It did not escape Tom’s notice that it would make a worthy Horcrux.

But, on the off-chance that it really was written by a demonic being, binding his soul to it might not be such a good idea.

He cracked it open. It groaned. The pages sighed upon being exposed and the front cover fell upon the desk like a foot tapping down. The same devil on the frontispiece waved at him in silence as that which Mr. Malfoy saw.

“Venetiae, apud Aristidem Torchiam & LCF,” he read out loud. Looking more closely, he noticed a thin writing on the foot of the demonic throne, almost less of a text and more of a clawed scribble. “Sic luceat lux… Thus let the light shine.”

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

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boxeom · 6 months ago

Text

• When Judgement Day Comes •

🌻[The Failure of Truth and the Success of Lies]🌻

Synopsis: Hiromi gets yet another guilty verdict, but luckily, you are there to pick up his stray pieces.

Contains: Higuruma Hiromi/gn!reader, heavy angst, hurt comfort, a lil spooky (:3), (cw.) heavy intrusive thoughts, (cw.) suicidal ideation, (cw.) heavy dissociation, non-sexual intimacy, acts of service, bird facts (it's symbolism, I promise/I also just know way too much about birds and must share my knowledge), disgusting amounts of soft and emotional fluff.

Wc. 5k+

[Message from the Box]: Uhhhh…first time actually posting my writing. A bit nervous. I have literally been writing so much stuff in my personal life and have literally finished stories I've just been a wee scared to post so they've just been sitting in my drive for like…three years??? Maybe there will be more to come if I actually hype myself up enough- I'm proud of my writings, I think I'm an okay writer (I think), but posting them always makes me feel urrg. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! (IF YOU SAW THE UNCOMPLETED VERSION OF THIS, NO YOU DIDN'T. 🫵🏽)

-Boxe in the Box

Hiromi's eyes peel open slowly to meet the dark roof of his car. He blinks a few times, head lifting from his headrest to stare ahead at the dark and practically empty parking lot just outside the courthouse. The sun was up when he had gotten into his car- how long was he sitting here? A nearby lamppost flickers. Harsh pale yellow light flashes in rapid patterns- straining Hiromi's eyes and painting his skin ghostly white for only mere seconds before plunging him back into shadow. Hiromi chuckles without a hint of amusement. Those really were the only two sides of the coin, weren't they? The head is too bright- too harsh, it leaves you squinting in wait to adjust- to have to eventually hope that you can one day comfortably live in the exposure the light paints you in. Meanwhile, the tail is too dark to even tell whether or not you are conscious as everything passes by right in front of you- leaving you to blindly stumble your way through uncertainty. You can flip that coin as much as you want. But was the hope for heads every time really worth it? Was this worth it?

Was life worth it?

The intrusively dark thought comes creeping its way out unexpectedly- forcing Hiromi to look it right in the face and come to terms with his subconscious questioning the idea of living. It isn't new, not at all. Hiromi has always had thoughts like that, but he's never given them his attention in favor of pursuing his passion to redeem the world of justice and honor. Right now, though? Hiromi finds himself not countering this consideration of life with his usual optimism. He's too tired. He's so tired. Hiromi takes a deep breath and slightly shakes his head, starting his car, flicking on his lights, and leaving that damned parking lot he's had too many moments of defeat in. He doesn't see the dark figure flickering in and out of existence just beneath the light of that lamppost in his rearview mirror watching his retreat- nor does he see the bulb begin to surge with power, shining too brightly until it shatters with an unheard pop! and litters glass onto the asphalt below. He doesn't see that whatever had been watching him was now gone.

•••

Driving has always been something that Hiromi has come to appreciate. Despite the unfortunate impact careening around in a highly flammable steel box at speeds humans were not meant to move at pouring gray smog into the air from every hole had on the environment, Hiromi finds himself comfortable in the mindless routine of turning the steering wheel, pressing or easing off the acceleration or brake, using the appropriate signals when it was time to use them, and everything else that came with such a common act. His windows are down- wind whipping in his ears and face as he naturally drives the speed limit right at its number, blank eyes staring ahead and occasionally glancing to the left or right. Today, though, something is...different.

He finds himself disassociating from the world around him- from the other cars sharing the road and forgetting that living, breathing people reside inside them. He wonders what would happen if he just pivoted into the black Mercedes Benz he saw littering a styrofoam cup full of cigarette butts a couple miles back. He wonders what would happen if he got on the ass of the rundown truck blaring bass and shit with its driver who blatantly has his eyes glued to his phone. Hiromi can feel the upper half of his dress shoe continue to press down on the acceleration, his vehicle revving along with the action as if to egg him on to go faster. He finds himself not caring when he cuts someone off or doesn't use his turning signal. His chest feels positively hollow. Just like before, he doesn't see the dark figure lounging in his backseat just behind him.

It's like he snaps awake when he finds himself in the elevator of his penthouse, the default cheery tune of elevator music making his clear exhaustion look almost comical in the mirrors paneled to the walls surrounding him. His heavy eyes blink. Hiromi's head swivels to the wall to his right suddenly- eyebrows drawn together in puzzlement. He could have sworn, in the corner of his eye, someone was just with him in the elevator. There had been a flash of long black hair and uncomfortably pale skin, donned in a dark robe of some kind. Before he can give what he just saw much thought, the elevator dings and the steel doors slide open. Hiromi blinks a few times and lightly shakes his head. He lifts his free hand, pinching the bridge of his nose before his palm drags down the rest of his face and he sighs deeply while leaving the elevator. Hiromi's shoulders slouch and his feet are heavy against the floor below him. He slips off his shoes, toeing them in the corner before stepping further into his home.

"Hiromi?"

And just like that, the lead in his muscles and fatigue weighing him down just melts away as you peek around the corner to meet his eyes. You meet him halfway. It doesn't go unnoticed by Hiromi how your eyes look him up and down in clear concern and what he really thinks is pity. "...Guilty again, huh?" He doesn't even need to explain it to you anymore. Hiromi feels every single ounce of negativity cursing his mind, body, and soul simply disappear as he steps into your open and warm embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him flush against your body as a hand cradles the back of his head and welcomes his heaviness. Hiromi's forehead drops to your shoulder and his eyes slide close in relief to be with you. "I made dinner. Hungry?" He shakes his head to decline your offer. There's a moment of guilt in the pit of his stomach that he selfishly turns down your effort in caring for him, but that feeling is soon washed away as you nod instantly. You understood. You always understood. "C'mon," you give a soft kiss to his temple, "let's get this suit off."

With your hand in his, you lead Hiromi into your shared bedroom and take his suitcase to put aside on his desk. You sit Hiromi down on the edge of your bed gently and go about grabbing some more comfortable clothes for him to wear. Hiromi watches you with the softest gaze as you return to him, setting a fresh pair of boxers and one of his old college shirts beside him. You start loosening his tie, “Wanna get washed off? We can lay down afterwards.”

“Yes, please."

“Want me to join?”

Hiromi's heart swells to a point where his chest aches. He leans forward into you, head resting on your chest to listen to your steady heartbeat as he hugs your waist and draws you close between his legs. He just needs a moment to take you in- to feel you in his arms. You let him, return his embrace without question. His heavy eyes close slowly.

He's home.

•••

Hiromi lets out a long sigh as he sinks into the hot embrace of the lavender scented water filling the master bathroom’s spacious tub, resting his arms along the porcelain edges. His eyes peel open when you pass by- pulling your shirt up over your head and tossing it into the wicker laundry bin against the wall. He tilts his head, taking you in from head to toe as you slip your shorts down your legs. Hiromi’s eyebrows knit slightly.

“Where'd you get that bruise from?” He asks in concern, sitting up and reaching out for you- palm smoothing along the back of your bare thigh where a large, dark bruise welts against your skin. “Hm?” You peer over your shoulder at Hiromi with a frown of surprise, “I have a bruise?” “Yeah- it looks horrible. Did this happen recently?” “Oh, right,” Hiromi’s thumb gently rubs small circles against your flesh as you chuckle sheepishly, “I slipped and fell while running late to a meeting the other day, but it didn't hurt or anything.” Hiromi lets out an exasperated sigh, “How do you always manage to hurt yourself? Please be more careful, you have enough scars and bruises as it is.”

You raise your hands in playful surrender as you step into the bath, “I know, I know, I'm sorry.” Hiromi just shakes his head with a smile and welcomes your body against his when you join him within the water. You hum out in satisfaction, your back pressed to Hiromi's chest- your skin warm and pleasant flushed to his. Hiromi noses at the crook of your neck before leaving a fond trail of kisses down the gentle slope. Your hand reaches back as you tilt your head to give him more room, fingers threading through Hiromi's dark hair and scratching his scalp just the way he likes as his lips linger on the scar that curls at your left shoulder. Hiromi closes his eyes and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you closer still. “How was your day?” He asks against your skin. “You don't want to talk about yours?” You shift slightly in his arms to peer at him where his chin is tucked into your shoulder. “No,” Hiromi tilts his head to gently bump yours, your temples resting against each other's, “I just want to hear about you.”

You don't respond, but Hiromi can feel the way your cheek rises just a bit with your smile.

The next thirty minutes or so are filled with you telling Hiromi how you've spent your uneventful but peaceful day off (“boring is best”, you always say) as the two of you bathe together. It's a routine that you're both familiar with- one that Hiromi holds very dear (and he knows you do as well). You always insist on washing him first, working soap against his skin with a delicate touch and melting away the stress and tension of his day. When it's your turn, Hiromi is never not thorough. He finds it oddly relaxing- cleaning another person's body for them (though, he'd never done such intimate acts with anyone before meeting you so maybe he finds it so comforting because it's you).

His favorite part, though, is when you coax him to rest back into your chest and wash his hair. Tonight is no different.

Your hands do wonders. How you aren't the most famous massage therapist in the world, Hiromi has no idea (but he's more than happy to keep your talents for himself, anyways). Your fingers work through his hair with a touch that could rival that of an angel's. The clean and woodsy smell of Hiromi's shampoo fills the air as you knead his sensitive scalp, the heavenly combination nearly causing him to doze off in the water the two of you sit in. Hiromi's head lulls whichever direction your hands work in and his eyes have long since fluttered shut at the sound of your voice very seriously recounting a nature documentary you'd been absolutely appalled by earlier this evening.

"-and the mother bird won't realize that she's been taking care of a baby that isn't hers! The cuckoo hatches along with her babies and she'll feed them all, but the thing is that the cuckoo is much larger than the others so the mother will focus on feeding them more than her own." You tell him, disturbed by the information you've learned, "The other babies will either starve to death because they aren't getting enough food or be pushed out of the nest by the cuckoo because it needs more room. It's called...oh, what was it?"

"Parasitic brooding..." Hiromi finishes for you, having remembered seeing the term in a book he'd read once.

"Parasitic brooding! That's it!" You frown deeply, "It was really...sad. I know it's just nature, the cuckoo is just doing what its instinct is, but still...I can't help but feel bad for all the birds involved. The baby cuckoo especially."

"The baby cuckoo? How come?"

"...I'm not sure. It's just...the idea of a baby that's planted into a family it's meant to destroy without even knowing..." You trail off long enough for Hiromi's eyes to open and tilt his head back against your chest to see your face. "...It's a scary thought." He correctly words your feelings aloud. "Very." You agree solemnly, absentmindedly shaping Hiromi's hair into spikes. It's a bit surprising to him- how affected you seem by this concept. He's sure there's something there, something complex within you he's yet to uncover. Your relationship was founded and built on patience and trust- both of your backgrounds are complicated enough to have shaped who you are today significantly. And you've both mutually confided in one another about your pasts with time.

Hiromi knows there is still more about your life before him that you haven't told him about. However, he would never dream of trying to push that information out of you. Whatever it is, whenever you are ready to tell him about it, he'll be there for you the whole way. It's a silent promise he'd made to you early on into your friendship that he has no intention of breaking now after three years of being together.

He slowly sits up, turning in the water to face you and cup your face in his wet hand. You lean into his touch with an apologetic and sheepish smile. "Sorry...I was getting too into my head."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I'm supposed to be taking care of you today, not the other way around."

"We can take care of each other at the same time, you know." Hiromi reasons, his response being a trill of your lips and a playfully dismissive wave. "Impossible."

With a shake of his head, he kisses your forehead and chuckles against your skin as you snicker along with him. When he leans back, you're beaming up at Hiromi with a smile that will never fail to make the rest of the world just disappear. He breathes your name. "I love you." "I love you, too."

"Keep telling me about the documentary. What else did it talk about?"

"Oh! Did you know that there are families of lesbian lizards?"

•••

Hiromi climbs into bed beside you, letting out the hundredth sigh of the day when he flops face first into the sanctuary of his fluffy pillow. He hears you snicker and coo with sympathy to the side and he can't help but smile. You pull the cool duvet over him before settling in, your hand resting on the nape of his neck and absentmindedly playing with the short dark tufts of hair there. Hiromi turns his head to meet your eyes. The two of you simply stare at each other for a moment. His mind wanders back to the failure of his day- to the look of pure contempt on his client's face when the verdict was given. Will the next time be the same? And the time after that? What about the inevitable case he'd take a year from now? Will he ever make a difference? Is he the kind of person that can even make a difference...?

"What're you thinking about, Hiro?"

“...Do you think I'll ever change anything?”

Your expression is hard for Hiromi to read, even after these years of being with you, but he can see the sympathy in your eyes. There's something else he catches just in the subtle downturn of your thoughtful frown. It's complicated and deep and almost devastating. It's like you've heard these words or asked yourself the same question before, but in a way Hiromi can't seem to grasp. Your palm glides to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the corner of his eye rhythmically. Before he can think any further on it though, the brief glaze to your stare disappears to something he can actually recognize. Love.

“I do.”

There isn't a hint of doubt in your whisper. You continue;

“You are…a righteous, beautiful, and passionate soul with the mind to accomplish anything and everything you want. You're always learning, always watching, always adapting. And I wish- every single day- I wish I could be even half as strong as you are. You're unshakeable, Hiromi.”

Hiromi has never been a very outwardly emotional man. It takes a lot for his heart to bare itself so clearly. Even so, you are easily able to sway him as if it was as simple as breathing- like he is a book with its pages ready and waiting to be read and analyzed by your eyes and your eyes alone. It's a terrifying and exhilarating experience. To be seen, known, and cherished.

“You won't just change anything, Hiromi.” You smile so softly, finger brushing away the tear Hiromi hadn't noticed was falling until your touch. He lifts his hand to cover your own and weaves your fingers together. “You'll change everything. I know it.”

“...How?” His voice is so quiet, he almost doesn't hear it himself…but you hear him.

“Because you're Higuruma Hiromi. And I love you.”

There's such a serene silence that falls between the two of you, Hiromi almost feels like he's caught in a dream. Your skin is painted by the loving strokes of the rising moon’s brush- your eyes sparkle brighter than any mere shooting star that's ever streaked across the night sky. You're ethereal. Hiromi has to question- has to wonder what it is he did in his past lives to have earned the grace that is you. What he does know, though, is that you're here. With him.

And that is more than enough.

The shadows of your and Hiromi's bedroom shift, something darker than the black blanket of night slinking silently across the ceiling. It moves slowly and deliberately- spindly and twisted limbs like the branches of a dying tree moving the bulbous, swollen trunk they are attached to. The damnable thing crawls down the wall the headboard of the bed presses against, making its way closest to Hiromi's side. Its pencil thin neck stretches and cranes with the accompanied sound of crackles and pops (as if stretching bones it does not possess), two wide bloodshot eyes that are much too human yet far too large leer unblinkingly down at the soundly sleeping man just within its reach. Its face holds no features- just a silhouette of a head that is too small compared to its sac-like body. It's like a child's rendition of a giant spider they saw in their nightmares has peeled off paper and grew the size of a car. It stares, drinking in the face of the human who's woe it bore from. His desperation, his sorrow, his guilt, his regrets- all a delectable ambrosia that fills its fat gut. But it is not enough.

There's a soft, almost undetectable sound from it. Like the slow inhale of a dying man that draws on and on and on and on and on, hollow and wheezing and infinite. The space where its mouth should be begins to fall cartoonishly from the upper half of its face, a cacophony of ripping tendons and snapping cartilage growing more and more frequent the more its gaping maw yawns open. It draws closer to Hiromi, jaw unhinging and stretching to the size of Hiromi's upper torso.

Closer. Closer. Closer. Closer.

Creak.

The creature's mouth snaps closed, head shooting up to the sudden sound of something just barely moving to the right. Its wide eyes widen further when it meets the subtly glowing gaze of you. You stare into its very core- shaking the foundation of its being. Your expression is void, yet the unbridled wrath storming in your eyes and lashing through your energy strikes something into the newborn curse. Something so horrible, it cannot truly comprehend how or why you make it feel.

It feels fear.

The curse is fleeing before it realizes, scattering with uncanny speed across the floor and heading straight towards the glass doors leading to the connecting balcony. It crashes through the glass, pieces digging into its fleshy body but it is undeterred. Gnarly fingers wrap around the railing as it heaves its body up, ready to jump over the edge and escape into the night. It watches as its own body suddenly hurdles over the edge of the railing unceremoniously- plunging silently over the edge and disappearing. Its eyes shake as it slowly peers to the side.

"The next time you are born," your voice is soft and even as your fist tightens around its severed neck with a strength that has the curse's eyes about to pop out of its head, your free hand resting over its face, "make sure it isn't by him."

There's a sick, wet, tearing sound- purple residue spraying across the floor of the balcony as you reduce the curse’s head into a ball of meat, raw cursed energy rushing through both parts of its body before exploding in a display of churning blue flame. Any evidence of its existence is instantly eradicated. You look back just as Hiromi is startled awake from the shattering glass, snapping your fingers as the ruined glass door flashes and is fixed in the blink of an eye. Hiromi bolts upright and his head snaps to where you're re-entering the bedroom. "Sorry," you whisper, "did I wake you?"

"Wh-What the hell was that?!" Hiromi asks in panic, eyes flickering around your bedroom to find whatever it was that had awoken him. Guilt picks at your bones as you tilt your head and furrow your brow in feigned confusion. "What was what?" Your boyfriend stares at you like he's trying to decide if he's gone crazy or if you've gone crazy. "Th-That...that sound! It sounded like glass was breaking!" "...Glass? I didn't hear anything, Hiro."

Hiromi blinks a few times, processing your words- his mind running. You can see him thinking. You know that he definitely knows he didn't dream that up, but your reaction clearly makes him question himself. “You're stressed, baby. It was probably just a nightmare.” To ease (and distract) him, you move back into bed, your hand gently cupping his face to turn Hiromi towards you and meet him in a soft kiss. He relaxes with a slow exhale through his nose- you can feel his rapid heart beat calming where you rest your hand over his chest. “C’mere, let's go back to sleep, hm?” You murmur when you pull away, your answer a quiet nod. Hiromi moves with you- your hands gently holding his shoulders to guide him to rest on top of you.

Hiromi sighs as he lays his head on your chest, your fingers threading through his hair and running through his hair to tempt his eyes to fall closed. It's not long until you feel Hiromi's breathing slowly even out like it always does when he sleeps. You glance to the balcony door, releasing your hold on the illusion to assess the damage. There's a giant hole punched right through the now ruined glass door, pieces scattered across the ground (but luckily it's far enough that Hiromi won't accidentally step on the pieces when he wakes up tomorrow). You inwardly groan before setting the false image back into place and shut your eyes.

You'll need to get that fixed tomorrow.

#I've been avoiding uploading this for weeks ajajdjd #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader

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