#they made me hate his character so much so it will be a miracle if they can redeem him for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fragilefable · 5 months

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nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Rating: Mature (18+ minors DNI) Summary: When you and Joel get separated the night of the outbreak, you spend the next decade searching for him. Just when you've given up— a miracle occurs. Warnings: heavy angst, canon typical violence, character death (sarah), discussions of grief, very brief mention of suicidal ideation, alcohol used to cope, depression, suggestive language, lovers reunited, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Word Count: 6.6k Currently Playing: Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey ♪

A/N: This piece has been months in the making, hours of rereading and rewriting. This is my love child. I'm possibly (definitely) planning a part 2 with smut... ;) I am a full-time college student who unfortunately has other responsibilities, so please be patient with me. My first lengthy piece in a while, so please be kind & enjoy my doves!

Sleep was the most convenient temporary escape available in the post-cordyceps world. Oftentimes, if you were lucky enough, with sleep came dreams—glimpses of a divine, utopian life. One without spores or fungi of any kind. There was, however, always the chance that with it came nightmares—Polaroids of the past, the uprising of the infection. Mothers clutching bloodied children, decaying men ripping open flesh with their savage teeth, and, worst of all— losing Joel Miller.

Joel was... everything—neighbor, friend, lover. Joel hated that word— laughed every time it managed to escape your lips in a hushed whisper, but that was what you were to each other. It transcended explanation. You'd moved to Austin after college in hopes of starting over, a clean slate. Instead, you'd stumbled upon a single father and his then 11-year-old daughter. You fit into their life like the missing puzzle piece— you completed them. Sarah needed a motherly presence in her life. There was only so much Joel could do for the blossoming young woman.

And Joel— Joel never knew what he was missing until you came along. Someone to be able to rely on, to love unconditionally, a fixed constant. To say he fell head over heels was an understatement, but it became so much more than physical attraction. It became something far more profound and terrifying— love. The kind of love only poets write about. It was fierce, at times agonizing. That's what made losing him all the more heartbreaking.

You were with Sarah the night of the outbreak— Joel's birthday. Lounging around in plaid pajamas, waiting for Joel to get home from work. Despite being exhausted, Sarah was beaming with pride over her birthday present for her dad— his broken wristwatch now repaired and refurbished. You smiled mischievously, "And just where did you get the money to fix this, young lady?" Sarah grinned slyly, "Just lyin' around, it's not like he noticed it was missin'!" Hours passed, you and Sarah slumped against the couch: Fast asleep, soft snores escaping mouths, drool dribbling down chins.

The sight made Joel's heart quaver in his chest. Kicking off his muddied work boots, he carefully plopped down in between the two sleeping figures, planting a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. "Hmm. You're home," you stirred awake, drowsy eyes met with a welcome sight: Weathered tan skin and dark chocolate curls. "Hey, Darlin'. You outta head up to bed. I'll be up soon." You nodded faintly, planting a chaste kiss on Sarah's forehead: "Goodnight, sweet girl."

You fell fast asleep as soon as your body hit Joel's mattress, his scent engulfing you like a blanket of safety— a shield of sorts. The vague smell of sawdust and pine soap conquered your senses, a heavenly combination. An hour later, you felt the bed dip down, strong arms circling your waist.

Frantic hands shook you awake, calling your name weakly: "I can't find Dad. N' somethin' weird is goin' on outside." You sat up, Sarah's urgency pulling you from your hazy half-asleep state. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll call him. Go back to bed." Sarah ignored your suggestion and sat beside you as you reached for the landline. The call went to voicemail without hesitation: "Huh... That's weird."

Sarah grew more anxious by the second, "I'm gonna go check the driveway for his truck." Sarah shot up from the bed, feet pattering down the stairs. "Sarah! Wait, I'll come with-" Throwing on your Converse, you hastily ran out after her. Your tired eyes scanned the pavement but found no signs of Sarah or Joel's truck. The Adler's door was wide open; you huffed: "Sarah?"

The Adler's house was pitch black and eerily quiet, the family's dog nowhere to be seen: "Sarah? This is trespassing!" Tiptoeing through the living room, you halted at the sight of a ruby trail— blood. Grotesque, wet noises filled the previously silent house: "Sarah?" The teen bolted out of the kitchen, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door: "Run!" Mrs. Adler scrambled after Sarah, mouth dribbling crimson liquid, no longer bound to her wheelchair.

"What the fuck–" Sarah's grip on your hand tightened as you passed through the door and stumbled onto the pavement. A pair of familiar brown eyes scanned Sarah's figure and then yours: "Sarah? Darlin'? Are ya'll ok-" Joel's words were cut off when Mrs. Adler dashed through the front door, her figure lunging for you.

Joel struck the side of her head with a wrench as you made a feeble attempt to crawl away. His strikes were lethal, and yet the elder kept thrashing against the ground. "Joel, stop!" Only then did you notice Tommy, Joel's younger brother, behind you, coaxing Sarah into the truck.

Joel exhausted Mrs. Adler with one final swing, dropping the bloodied wrench beside him and wiping his shaky hands on his jeans. His gaze softened when he saw your timid frame— shaking and unmoving. "Darlin'... Baby, are you okay?" His hands found your shoulders, rubbing soothing circles on a patch of exposed skin. You hesitated; Joel had just killed Mrs. Adler in cold blood— but she tried to kill you and Sarah first.

Joel hurriedly hoisted you to your feet, "We gotta go, okay baby? It's not safe here." You clambered into the backseat beside Sarah, the girl's arms thrown around you tightly. Kissing the crown of her head, you reassured her: "It's okay, sweetheart, everything's okay."

Neighbors began to exit their homes, baffled and disturbed by the sight of Mrs. Adler's bloody, lifeless body lying in the yard. Someone called out for Joel. He immediately instructed her to go back inside and lock the doors. Tommy beckoned Joel into the car, exiting the culdesac and taking off towards the highway. After a fleeting moment, you mustered up the courage to ask, "Joel, what's going on?" Tommy replied, "They're sayin' it's a virus- some kinda parasite." Sarah spoke up, tears forming, "Are we sick?" Joel shot the idea down immediately.

Tommy and Joel continued bickering, your eyes glued to the road ahead: "Joel! Look- It's Jimmy's place." The two-story farmhouse was completely engulfed in flames, unrecognizable. Your hands clung to Sarah, burrowing her head into your neck: "It's okay, sweet girl." Police sirens rang out through the darkness, interrupted by soft pleas for help. A family was stranded on the side of the road, begging for aid. Tommy began to slow the car. "What're you doin'?" Joel firmly questioned. Tommy shot back, "Got a kid, Joel."

"So do we. Keep drivin'," Joel spat. Tommy sped back up, eyes searching Joel's for an explanation: "Somebody else will come along." As Tommy approached the interstate, the sounds of disgruntled drivers grew louder: "Fuck! Everybody had the same fuckin' idea. I can't get through this." Joel gripped the dashboard, "All right, all right. Let's think it through," he paused for a moment, "All right, take the field! We cut across, and we pick up on the west side." Tommy steered right, the truck jerking on the uneven terrain. As he drove over the hill, helicopters and tanks came into view, "Shit. Fuckin' army."

Sarah peered out from behind the seat, "Isn't that good?" Your voice was filled with hesitation, "That's the highway we need to get to." Joel and Tommy argued, eventually continuing toward a town just east of the highway. Sarah stilled, "Maybe it's everywhere. Maybe there's nowhere to go." A booming roar erupted, Tommy twisting his body to get a better look at the night sky: "What the fuck?!" Commercial airplanes flew overhead, merely hundreds of feet above the ground. You instinctively covered Sarah's ears with your hands, eyes wrenching shut at the deafening rumble of their engines. Tommy swerved to avoid a police blockade ahead, turning into a nearby alleyway.

The streets were flooded with screaming civilians, running in every direction— no one sure who exactly they were running from. A hoard of people fled from inside a movie theater, causing Tommy to shift the truck's gear into reverse. "Dad?" Sarah called out, "Dad!" Joel turned; an airplane was rapidly descending— heading straight towards town, "Shit. Move!" As the plane made contact with the ground, a mushroom cloud of fire and smoke bloomed, causing Tommy to lose control of the truck.

A strong hand shook your leg, "Darlin'? Stay right there, don't move." Your side ached, cool liquid flowing from your head. Beside you, Sarah quickly came to, her eyes shifting to the figure hunched outside of the flipped car, clawing at the corpse of an older man. "Sarah, baby, don't look. C'mere, put your arms around me." As Joel carefully unearthed Sarah from the mangled truck, you climbed out of the shattered window: Hissing as you shifted against your arm. Sarah tried to put weight on her leg, provoking muffled whimpers and cries at the attempt. Tommy, equipped with his shotgun, called out, "We gotta get off the street!"

As you approached Joel and Sarah, a flaming police car crashed into the capsized truck, separating the three of you from Tommy. Tommy roared from the other side of the wreck: "Meet at the river! I'll find a way." Joel turned to Sarah, "Can you run?" She shook her head wearily. He scooped her into his arms, "Keep your eyes on me." Joel shifted towards you, "No matter what, you keep runnin'. Alright, darlin'? Promise me." You hesitated, desperate eyes meeting his, "I promise."

The three of you stumbled through the alley until you came across a cluster of bodies scattered across the pavement, crouched figures grunting over the lifeless figures. The end of the passage was clear. The only problem was getting past the rotted creatures without being noticed. There was no way Joel could outrun them in his condition. One of the creatures shot up at the sound of a remote blast, eyes landing on Joel. His voice was firm, "Go." You grabbed his arm, "Joel!" He repeated his command, louder— frantic: "You can't carry Sarah w'that arm. Go find Tommy. We'll meet you there."

You pressed a hurried kiss to Sarah's head, the deranged man scrambling to his feet before you could embrace Joel. You took off towards the other end of the alley, Joel and Sarah barricading themselves inside the vacant diner across from the pile of carcasses. Your body throbbed with every step, head burning with the fire of a thousand suns. Your feet carried you across town, weaving in and out of injured civilians and infected until you reached the river. The stream was pitch black, sounds of gunfire and cries rang out in the distance.

Suddenly, a bright light blinded you: "Put your hands where I can see 'em!" You obeyed, raising them as high as your injured arm would allow. Your voice raw with distress, "M'not sick! Just trying to find my family!" The man stepped closer, seemingly inspecting your physical state. He was clad in military gear, "You hurt?" You shook your head eagerly: "Just a sprained arm." He nodded his head, "Alright. We've got buses that can take you to a decontamination zone."

Your head scanned the vast field, eyes scouring for any sign of Joel or Tommy: "I- I can't. I'm supposed to meet someone here. At the river." The soldier looked dissatisfied and slowly lifted his gun, "The river goes on for miles. S'not safe out here." Your eyebrows threaded together in confusion, "What- are you- are you gonna shoot me?" The soldier's grasp on his automatic rifle tightened, "I'm sayin' you have two choices. You can either come with me or you can-"

A guttural scream sounded from behind him. But before he could turn around, a pair of arms seized his neck and began ripping into his military garb. The soldier flailed wildly at his attacker. While he was busy fighting off the deranged beast, you took off into the darkness, wandering aimlessly and calling out for your family. That night was the last time you saw Joel Miller.

16 Years Later

The bitter winter air overwhelmed your senses until you were gasping for air, limbs numb and cold to the touch. You wouldn't make it much longer without shelter, without warmth. You'd spent the better part of the last 16 years searching for him— for Joel. Ever since that night, you'd scoured every independent civilization, every QZ, within mobs of infected. Each night, you silently prayed never to find him like that— skin pallid and overcome with fungus, head split wide open, cordyceps blooming from within.

You'd trekked across the country with the sole intent of finding him alive and healthy. The journey was brutal— raiders and infected desperate for blood. But by far, the hardest battle was pushing away the nagging thought that, even if Joel and Sarah were somehow alive, you'd never find them. Now, after nearly two decades of searching, you were reaching the end of your journey. You'd officially trekked across the entire nation. If your estimations were correct, you were nearing Wyoming— hence the formidable cold front.

You'd heard rumors about a small civilization located somewhere on the skirts of Jackson County— your last stop. You knew the chances were slim; that feeling only fortified with each city, each civilian who hadn't heard of or seen anyone by the name of "Joel Miller." But you kept searching— because the day that you stopped would be the day you lost everything, lost yourself. It was as though he held onto you with a leash. If you tugged hard enough, could you finally break free? What else did you have to live for? Maybe one day you'd have some sort of epiphany, something to make sense of all the death and suffering. For now, Joel kept your hope alive— the hope that there was happiness and safety beyond all of the pain. The very thought of him kept you alive.

You stood in front of thick and rusted iron gates, your posture crooked due to exhaustion— Just one more stop. The sounds of cocking guns drew your attention to the top of the gates. A young man and woman stand there, rifles pointed at you: "Drop your weapon! Let us see your hands!" You obey. This is standard practice amongst civilizations— you'd done it a thousand times by now. Unsheathing and kicking away your pistol, you then throw your backpack towards the gate. Hands raised next to your head. Your voice wavers as you half-shout, "I'm not infected! Just looking for someone!"

The woman searched your face for a bit, presumably looking for any signs of deceit. She nodded towards her companion, the corroded metal walls unfolding. Two men approached you and picked up your discarded belongings. The younger of the two roughly patted you down and checked for bite marks. When they were satisfied, they led you past the gates into the town square. The village was pleasant, a handful of people milling about in the slushy streets.

A familiar voice erupts from behind you: "Please excuse the initial hostility. We need to be careful about who we let in... I'm Maria." She extends her hand. You accept it gingerly and introduce yourself. "Welcome to Jackson. You must be freezing. Come on, we'll talk inside." — Maria leads you inside a small building, the exterior reminding you of the Lincoln Logs you used to play with as a child. The inside is... quaint. A lone desk sits near the lit fireplace. Maria leans against the desk and motions for you to take a seat: "So... You're lookin' for someone. And you have reason to believe they're here?"

You sigh, allowing your aching body to relax against the couch's plush cushions: "No... I am looking for someone, but... Well, this is my last stop." Maria nods sympathetically, tucking a lone braid behind her ear— "I get it. You've been looking for a long time. It's about time to stop. To rest." You can't help the tears that form on your waterline. Your gaze shifts to your lap. Maria continues, "Who are you lookin' for?"

You swallow the fist-sized lump in your throat, "Joel. Joel Miller." Your attention snaps towards her as a wistful sigh escapes her lips. A tight frown dawns on Maria's face, "I'm sorry. There's no Joel Miller here." You nod; you knew it was a long shot, but hearing it aloud was something different entirely. You rise from the couch, "Thank you. I apologize for takin' up your time." Maria speaks up before you can reach the door: "Now what? You got a place to stay?"

You honestly hadn't thought that far, about life beyond looking. For years, finding Joel was your only purpose— your rationale for remaining on this infested hellscape. You had no home, no roots. Maria's voice interrupts your thoughts, "There's room here. We've got food and water— shelter. Hell, we're even working on electricity." You turn to face her. Her words dripping with verity, "Jackson could be your home."

Despite having just met her, Maria's words touched something buried deep within you— hope. Hopeful of a new life, of new beginnings. You forged a small smile, "Okay." Maria smiled, but it was much different from yours: It was toothy, genuine— "Alright. I'll give you the grand tour then." For the next hour or so, Maria marched you around town. She showed you the vast dining hall laden with maple furniture. The stables filled with mare and their young.

Then she showed you the schoolhouse. It was a small brick building. The walls were filled with colorful crayon drawings. Tiny handprints were pressed onto the wall in various colors of acrylic paint. The dulcet sounds of innocent laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Children from the ages of 5-12 were scattered around: Some doing arts and crafts, some reading, and others playing with worn toys. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brushed it away quickly before Maria could notice.

You couldn't help but think of Sarah. About the first time she knocked on your door— she was selling chocolate bars for some fundraiser at school. Her bronze complexion dappled with freckles, and her wide smile revealed a missing tooth. She was eleven at the time, eyes bright and full of wonder. Blind to the atrocities that loomed at every turn. Sometimes, you'd think about what she looked like now— did her curls still rest atop her shoulders? Did she still laugh until she was panting for air? She's thirty now... Has she fallen in love? That was considering she is still...

You didn't entertain the thought. Sarah was fine, alive somewhere with her father to look after her. Maria's touch pulls you from your thoughts, "How about I show you where you'll be living? Get you settled in." As Maria exited the schoolhouse, you stole one last glance at the room. A little girl met your gaze. Her dark curls were pulled into two ponytails. Her burnt mahogany eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, raising her tiny hand and waving it at you. You returned the sentiment, this time allowing the tear to fall down and onto the ground.

Maria escorted you just outside of town, to a street lined with country-style two-story houses in relatively good condition. "This one here, the green one. It's already furnished. I'll have one of my guys come by later with some essentials from the pantry. Otherwise, you should be all set 'til tomorrow." Your eyes bore into the house. It was nice, but also... "It's big," you retort, "Don't know what I could possibly need all those rooms for." Maria lays the silver key in your hand, "You never know."

You internally cringe at the connotation. Start over with some man? Have a big family and a white picket fence? You couldn't. It wouldn't be the same. You let out a shaky breath, "Thank you, Maria." She nods, "Come see me tomorrow, and we'll talk about where to go from here. Everyone in Jackson has a job, a role to play. Rest up... You deserve it." She departs, leaving just you and your great, big, empty house.

3 Years Later

Jackson developed rapidly under Maria's supervision. The population rose from 50 to roughly 300 in just under three years. Jackson now had electricity, thanks to the Jackson County Hydroelectric Dam that Maria's team was able to get up and running. You'd become the head of patrol— in charge of organizing the schedules and determining the routes. You and Maria had become very close, practically family. She's the person who understood you, what you've been through.

In an attempt to busy yourself and earn your keep, you'd thrown yourself into working alongside her. Not just with patrols but also with community relations and development. You'd completely reconstructed the greenhouse, built a jailhouse— that, luckily, wasn't used much— and helped fortify Jackson's defenses. Maria assigned you the title "community leader," but you much preferred what everyone else called you: "Maria's right hand."

Your house was still too big, but now it felt homier— lived in. The walls were plastered with botanical paintings you'd found while out on patrol, vases of fresh cut flowers from the community garden placed upon every surface. Cable knit blankets were draped over the shabby leather furniture, the brick fireplace emanating warmth and bringing solace during the cold winter months. You'd even taken up baking in your spare time, frequently bringing baked goods to the schoolhouse.

Nevertheless, when the sun set and the sounds of bustling downtown Jackson faded, your thoughts always returned to Joel. His bronze skin, tousled brown curls, and perfectly plump lips. Suddenly, it felt as though the house was mocking you, and the right side of the bed always grew colder. Perhaps it's why you worked yourself so hard; taking a day off was seldom. You couldn't escape the persistent feeling that Joel and Sarah weren't alive. That you'd failed to find them time and time again because somewhere, they were six feet under, buried in an unmarked grave. All it takes is one moment— one lapse between heartbeats— and suddenly, everything has changed.

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The spring air was crisp with morning dew. A gentle breeze slipped through the cracked bay window. Three heavy thuds woke you— the sharp knocks cutting through serene silence. Your voice was raspy with sleep, "Coming!" You quickly pulled on the worn terrycloth robe that hung from the bedpost and stumbled downstairs. You swung the door open to reveal Stanley, a young man who worked in construction: "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Maria sent me to get you. She said it's urgent."

You sighed deeply, rubbing the remaining exhaustion from your face: "Urgent like, 'don't get dressed' urgent?" Stanley's eyes roamed across the dark fabric of your robe before snapping back to your face. His cheeks bright pink, "Oh, um... no! Just meet her in her office ASAP." Sending him off with a nod, you traipsed upstairs and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making your way downtown. It was early morning, the streets empty save the early risers milling about, getting ready for work. As you passed a group of older women sipping hot beverages, you overheard whispers of "an outsider." As Maria's righthand, you were expected to greet all incoming arrivals. How on earth that could constitute a crisis, you did not know.

As you approached Maria's office, the woman in question exited swiftly, shutting the door behind her. You grew closer, taking note of her fidgeting hands. She was... nervous? "Good morning, Mar. What's the emergency?" Maria's face was sullen. You'd never seen her like this, not in the three years you'd known her. Your hands clenched at your sides, "Maria? What is it?"

She took a deep breath, "This may be a false alarm, but... This guy's last name is Miller. Says he's originally from Texas." Her words stole the air from your lungs, a pit forming in the bottom of your stomach. She said something else, but all you could hear was buzzing. Your vision blurred, the dark-skinned woman's features coming in and out of focus. Could it be him—had Joel finally found you?

Maria called your name, pulling you from your trance. As your vision focused, you pushed past her. Your grip on the doorknob was bone-crushing, your knuckles turning white from the tension. You inhaled— don't get your hopes up. It might not be him. You exhaled, pushing the door open with a startling amount of force. You analyzed the man's figure, you recognized him— only it wasn't Joel. It wasn't the Miller whose calloused hands once traveled the expanse of your body, making note of each hidden crevice as though it may hold treasure. Whose lips once seared white hot kisses in the places he knew were the most sensitive— "Tommy?"

He looked dumbstruck, his lips parted in shock. Before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck. It took him a moment to reciprocate your embrace, but once he did, his arms anchored you in place. He spoke your name quietly against the crown of your head: "I can't... I can't believe it." You pulled away, "I hardly can either." His hands rested atop your shoulders as his eyes searched your face in disbelief. His resemblance to his older brother felt like a gut punch. You were afraid to ask— fearful of the truth: "Joel? Is he..."

Tommy's hand squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, "He's alive. Last I checked, holed up somewhere in the Boston QZ." A warm tear slipped down your face, the salty liquid resting just below your chin. You'd checked Boston QZ, but recent "terrorist" attacks had made it impossible to stay longer than an hour without drawing the attention of every FEDRA soldier in that godforsaken city. Your hands trembled as you clutched your chest, "And Sarah? How's my sweet girl?"

Tommy's face went cold— No. No. She can't— "She's gone." The taste of bile rose in your throat, "Wh-when?" Tommy removed his hands from your shoulders, "That night. Shot by some military fucker. She..." He hesitated, "Joel held her. It happened s'fast." Your kneels buckled, threatening to send you towards the ground. You fucked up— you let yourself get accustomed to the idea of her being alive. Repeated it over and over again until you believed it to be true. This was all your fault.

Your shoulders shook silently, as if you were crying— but no tears emerged, "I have to… I have to find Joel." Turning toward the door, Tommy caught you by your wrist: "I can't let you do that, hon. It's a damn death sentence." You tugged at your arm, desperate to break free from the restraint: "Let go of me, Tommy. I'm doin' this." Maria stepped forward, her hand resting at the base of your neck— "No, you're not. Jackson needs you here. I need you here."

Your breathing became labored. Deep down, you knew they were right— you were in no shape to travel across the country again. You'd barely survived it the first time. Chest heaving, your free hand found purchase on your throat, tightly grasping and constricting the airway. Tommy wearily let go of your wrist, his eyes wide and filled with fear. You ran for the door; you could hear Tommy call out for you as you fled homeward. Sarah was gone. Joel was alone.

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Days passed, and despite everything, the sun rose in the morning and the moon at night. You weren't quite sure how long it had been. You'd stopped counting daybreak after the first five came and went. Maria checked in after the first couple of days, worried that you hadn't been seen around town— or leaving your house, for that matter. Your grief was debilitating, all-consuming. You couldn't eat, could barely sleep, only finding relief at the bottom of a liquor bottle. You were tired… The kind of tired that sleep didn't fix.

Tommy came once. Sat and talked while you stared straight ahead at the empty wall. He could sense your anger, your resentment. How could he not? You silently judged him for leaving Joel, leaving his brother after his only daughter died in his arms. Tommy told you that Joel had changed. He wasn't the Joel you fell in love with; he'd done terrible things— But so had you. You'd killed innocent people, people who were just trying to protect themselves. And you did it in the name of finding Joel and Sarah, of surviving for them. You'd convinced yourself it was kill or be killed, and you had to live with that. Come judgment day, you'd pay greatly for your sins. You accepted that, too.

You only dared to look at Tommy's face once. You saw Joel in his eyes— you saw Sarah. Maybe if you hadn't left Joel in that alleyway, she'd still be alive. You could've protected her, taken the bullet for her. You would have, without hesitation. You'd cross the fiery pits of hell for her, reside in Caina, and be tortured for eternity. You may not have given birth to her, but Sarah was your daughter.

If you closed your eyes hard enough, you could faintly picture her smile. The dimples that formed just below her bottom lip. You could smell the faint aroma of her strawberry shampoo. Hear the broken remnants of her grandiose laughter. You swore to keep those memories someplace safe. Take them out and remember when you needed to, as if they were photographs.

A part of you wanted to be happy that she didn't suffer. She was too innocent for this new, heartless world. She was everything good in life. She was sunshine, sugary syrup, and pure, unadulterated love. But you could not accept this bright side. Not when it meant a life without her in it. Innocence is beautiful, but life is for living.

Tommy stood up, slipping a piece of paper on the nightstand. You cautiously turned it over to reveal a creased photo: You, Joel, and Sarah posing after winning one of her soccer games. You stole one last glance at Tommy. This time, he did not see blinding hatred in your gaze. Instead, he saw gratitude. As your glassy eyes bore into him, he nodded knowingly and left.

Maria came a couple of hours later with leftovers from the dining hall. Setting them on the counter next to the empty whiskey bottles displayed like pathetic trophies. You were in the same position as when Tommy left. You held the photo in your hands, thumbs stroking its frayed edges. Maria quietly dragged a chair closer to the bed, sitting just within arm's reach: "I went to a really dark place after I lost Kevin."

Tearing your gaze from the picture, one of her hands finds yours: "He made life worth living… It took me a long time to start to feel human again. To feel something other than pain and sorrow. The grief never goes away. But slowly, it starts to feel less like loss, and more like love." She inhaled shakily, "I know what you're feeling right now. I know why you're drowning your sorrows in that shit, trying to drink yourself to death." A tear slips down your face, her hand squeezing yours gently: "But you have to understand… What you're feeling right now, that's love. You're not a bad person for how you try to kill your sadness. But it's not gonna work."

You're unable to contain the choked sob that escapes your throat. The tears come harshly, scorching saline against your skin. Maria shifts her weight from the chair onto the bed, holding your shaking frame: "It's okay… Let it out." Her hands cradle your head, smoothing over your disheveled hair. "It's all my fault," you gasp between sobs, "I never should've left them. It's all my fault." Maria shushes you, "No, honey. You don't really believe that. You want someone to blame, but you're not that person."

Eventually, the tears cease. Your breathing evened out as Maria held you, "I miss Joel, so fucking much." You could feel Maria nod tenderly, "I know Honey." A lone tear slipped down your cheek, "Do you think— do you think he'll find me?" Maria pulled away, her chestnut eyes meeting yours, "Truthfully, I don't know." With a deep sigh, she squeezed your hand— "But I know he wouldn't want you to live like this. Isolating yourself from everyone else. You're allowed to grieve, but please don't shut me out. You're my person." You clutch her hands, squeezing firmly: "Even at my worst?" Her arms curled around your torso once again, "Even at your worst."

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The warmer seasons passed with haste. A wintertide blanket of white gradually covered Jackson. Day by day, Maria and Tommy were able to pull you out of your depressive stupor. You had to admit, they made quite the team. Maria was ultimately right, Joel wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life a bedridden drunkard. But still, life without him was arduous. There wasn't a day that passed that you didn't think of Joel Miller. About where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, and whether he missed you as terribly as you did him.

As much as you wished to focus on these melancholic thoughts, new developments began to bloom in Jackson. Tommy and Maria's blossoming love was hard to ignore and impossible to disapprove of. Watching two people whom you adored fall in love, it felt as though nothing had changed: No cordyceps, no raiders, just Jackson and all of its inhabitants. Perhaps you could find peace in that. When Maria told you that they were expecting, you were over the moon. Maria and Tommy deserved it, Jackson deserved it. Proof that the world is not over— that no matter the circumstances, mankind will prevail.

You threw together a small wedding ceremony with the help of the florist and local bakery, the couple wanting to tie the knot before the baby's arrival. Joking about how "shotgun weddings" withstood the test of time. Something arose in you, a pang of jealousy— Envious that you and Joel never got the perfect white wedding. It disgusted you, so you buried it deep within the recesses of your heart.

The winter was hard, the Wyoming chill threatening every crop that dared to sprout from the Earth. This resulted in you spending extra time in the greenhouse. You found gardening to be a rather soothing task, being able to nurture new life in a world marked by death and decay. It also provided plenty of time to think: Something that you did not relish. No matter how many times you pushed the thought of Joel away, it always returned. Whether it was at dawn or late at night plaguing your dreams.

When you weren't at Tommy and Maria's house or at the Tipsy Bison, you were in the greenhouse. The small shack sat right on the outskirts of town, situated with the perfect view of downtown Jackson. The glass panes shut out the cold, trapping any warmth inside. You bathed in the basking glow of the sun, gravitating towards it as a Sunflower would. You weren't sure when thoughts of Sarah became joyous, memories no longer met with choked cries but instead with soft chuckles. Nonetheless, you welcomed the growth. It's how she would want you to remember her.

You watched the clock that hung just above the door, a mere estimation of the time: 12:15 p.m. You carefully removed your dirt-caked gloves, setting them on the wooden bench beside you. Your stomach growled impatiently as you began the journey downtown. The air was frigid despite the sun's rays, the cold slowly numbing your fingers. As you ambled towards town, Stanley came jogging towards you: "Hey! Just got word from the gates that Maria's back. Brought some stragglers, two, I think."

You nodded in his direction, "Alright. Thanks, Stan." The soft crunch of snow beneath your feet accompanied you as you approached downtown Jackson, an air of excitement and uncertainty radiating off of the townsfolk. It wasn't every day that Jackson came across people who weren't just blood-thirsty raiders looking for valuables. As you rounded a corner, you overheard a commotion, the sound of yelling. Strangely, it didn't sound angry or fearful. It sounded... happy.

Midtown came into view; the construction that was being worked on was now abandoned. Immediately, your gaze fixed on two figures in the middle of the street embracing. That was... not typical. You could make one man out to be Tommy; his black curls contrasted starkly against his warm taupe skin. The other was taller and broader, his hair disheveled and graying. Behind them you could make out Maria on horseback, next to her was a young girl, who couldn't be older than thirteen.

Maria's expression was borderline unreadable, a mixture of trepidation and relief. Until her eyes met yours, then her face softened. A look of tenderness emerged. Everything about this situation puzzled you— Until the two figures broke apart. The man stood inches from Tommy, his hands gripping Tommy's shoulders firmly. His face was sunken with exhaustion and hunger; a vast smile overtook his face. A smile you would recognize anywhere.

He looked just as he had twenty years ago, only now his hair was significantly longer and his beard gray. His face was now littered with wrinkles, just as yours was. A telltale sign that time had, in fact, passed, that the world fell apart right in front of your eyes. Your fingers dug into your thigh. You surely would've drawn blood if not for the layer of denim protecting your skin. You knew you were grieving, but hallucinations seemed extreme. You took a hesitant step forward, still on the opposite end of the street.

Maria beckoned for you. Your name seemingly catching Tommy's attention as he turned towards you. As the men stood side-by-side, it was impossible to deny. Their likeness evoked something in you— realization. You weren't dreaming, you weren't hallucinating. He was there, just a yard away: Joel Miller. His gaze found yours, eyes searching your face in disbelief. Your name left his mouth like a question, but it sounded like a prayer.

He stepped forward as if he was testing the waters. You repeated his action, "Joel?" A smile broke across his face once again, causing you to break into a sprint. He jogged forward, careful not to slip on the icy gravel. Tears began streaming down your face, their warmth countering the icy chill. Before you could slow down, your body collided with his. His arms were tense, his hold fastening around you. You'd only dreamt of this moment for two decades.

You weren't sure how long you stood like that. Head nestled firmly against his chest, tears staining his leather coat. His gloved fingers gently grasped your chin, pulling your face from its sanctuary: "Baby... Fuck, I can't believe it." His eyes searched your face for any sign of unease. He could find nothing but pure joy: "You found me. I searched for you, Joel Miller, for 16 years. And you found me."

Joel let out a breathy chuckle, cut off as you captured his lips in a velvety kiss. At first, it was chaste.— A silent admission of consolation, twenty years in the making. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip, prompting him to groan as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. After a moment, a loud cough erupted from behind you. You reluctantly pull away, your forehead resting against his. Your hands cupped his cheeks, eyes glassy with relief and adoration: "After all this time?" Joel leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth, "Would wait forever f'you, Darlin'."

divider by @saradika

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #fragilefable #ೃ༄ wren writes

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portgasdwrld · 10 months

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hiii could you write about how the monster trio would take care of you when you get drunk?? thank you so much!!

Hiiii! Yess of course 😫

📂 OP men+ taking care of drunk reader

Featuring: Zoro & Sanji

Warning: fluff, established relationships

Note: I couldn’t find any inspiration for Luffy😭 hope you still enjoy it for the others 💕 I think Sanji is officially the character I love to write the most. He’s just so 🧎🏻‍♀️my writing just go so easy with him🙁

Zoro

Zoro knew you were out of it when you were laughing at whatever the hell was Luffy and Chopper doing. You weren’t simply giggling at their silly behaviour like usual, no.. you were holding into your stomach with teary eyes as if it was the funniest show of your life.

He knew he had to intervene when he saw you grab a pair of chopsticks (his) and were about to imitate their immature behaviour.

“You are no fuunnn, babee” you whined while pouting at him and trying to grab the chopsticks back. Your attempt was sadly not successful and you only ended up tripping on Zoro. He grabbed your waist, stopping you from falling completely on him and quietly made you sit back next to him.

“You will thank me tomorrow and those were mines by the way” he retorted while drinking down the bottom of your bottle and waving his chopsticks.

“Hey! My bottle!” You screamed a bit too loudly grabbing people’s attention for few seconds. You frowned and turned your body away from your boyfriend with crossed arms over your chest.

“Come on don’t be upset, you are already drunk” he chuckled as he caressed one of your hips with his tanned hands.

“I’m definitely not drunk” You snapped back at him turning your body in his direction now. He pulled softly your arms away from your chest and pecked your forehead.

“You are, it’s just the truth” He continued amused as he watched your annoyed expression. When you get drunk, you get frustrated so much quicker and he often had his little fun with it. He loved teasing you, so when you looked at him with the small fire in your eyes, he couldn’t help himself.

“Alright let’s get you to bed, before you actually shove chopsticks up your nose” he announced with a teasing smirk. He will for sure annoy you with that when you get to your senses tomorrow.

“Why!?? The party just started!! You are such a party pooper” you tried to run away from him and yelled at Nami for help, but Zoro pulled you down by your shirt with his usual stern expression. You two stared at each other in silence. You squinted your eyes at him and poked his large chest with your finger.

“We aren’t leaving, because I am not drunk. So now leave me alone.” You declared full of seriousness… well in your head, because to Zoro you were barely even making sense with your words. It took him a moment to get what you told him and he simply rolled his eyes. He stood up and signalled you to do the same. With a huff, you stood up and grabbed his hand. You leaned your head on his big arm.

“My head is starting to hurt” you mumble with a shy blush.

“I know, let’s take care of you”

He somewhat found his way to your shared room which is somewhat a miracle (you showed him the way with what little sense you had left)

He helped you remove your clothes because he knew you hate sleeping with uncomfortable clothes.

He didn’t bother making you wear a pyjama because it was too much trouble. So you went to sleep in your underwear like you often do with him anyway.

He made you drink a glass of water to help ease the headache. When you leaned over his body for a second, he was sure you were gonna vomit on him, but you ended up burping, earning a chuckle of him. He thought it was funny lmao, because he really believed he was gonna have to clean up vomit at this late hour.

He watched you snuggle yourself into the bed and looking at him with waiting eyes.

He joined you shortly after and made you lay your head on his bare chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Goodnight Zoro~” you whispered with closed eyes and a yawn.

He hummed as he closed his eye and let his body give up to sleep.

Sanji

“My love ?” Your head jerked in his direction as his sweet voice called you.

“Yes Sanji?” You asked him with a faint smile.

“What are you doing..?” He asked you concerned. You looked at him a little confused.

“I’m washing my face before going to sleep?”

“Chérie…this is the kitchen” He finally pointed out while exhaling a cloud of smoke and throwing away his cigarette. He put the plates on the counter and looked at your confused expression.

“And this is the soap for the dishes, Y/N, not for your pretty face.” You didn’t have a single thoughts behind your eyes so you just stared at him. He softly grabbed your wet hands away from the sink. Your face still had soap so he opened one of the drawer and pulled out of a new towel. He started to clean your face from the soap after wetting the towel with water.

“You are really something when you get drunk” he broke the silence. You watched his familiar lips curve into a smile. You imitated then and looked up at him with big eyes.

“I felt sleepy, but you know I need to do my skincare before going to bed…” you explained in a small voice while grabbing his vest with both of your hands. Sanji looked at your eyes and pecked your lips.

“I know, darling. Just let me know next time, alright? I wouldn’t want something bad to happen to you” He retorted with a gentle but serious tone. He truly cared for you and didn’t want anything bad to happen to you while his eyes weren’t watching.

“Okay!” You quickly agreed with a peck on his hairy chin. It tickled a little your lips earning a slight chuckle from you. Sanji blushed and kissed your lips, tasting the alcohol you had earlier with everyone. You kissed him back and brought him closer. He caressed the back of your head as he pulled away.

“I will help you do your skincare in the bathroom this time, so you can go rest. Is that alright with you, darling?

You nodded and wrapped your arm around your boyfriends as he walked you two to the bathroom.

He firstly helped you change in some comfortable sleepwear before you two stopped at the bathroom.

He ofc knows your skincare so he helped you with every steps as you were sat on the closed toilet.

He then transported you in a bridal style to your shared room. You were exhausted by the end of your little night routine.

He put your body softly on the bed and covered you with the bedsheets. He kissed your forehead and admired you while you were already asleep.

He left to wash the dishes quickly and came back to you were still deeply in sleep. He quickly washed up and joined you in bed.

Your eyes slightly opened. “Sanji..?What took you so long” you managed to mumble half asleep.

He couldn’t hide his smile when you asked him that. He opted to cuddle you and kiss your shoulder.

“Nothing, let’s sleep now” he replied with a tired tone. He blew on the light that was illuminating the room and fell asleep with you, his precious lover, in his embrace.

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deathlygristly · 22 days

Text

Saw this linked on my dash: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5513638/

Saw this sentence: "Important research on empathy and altruism has demonstrated that enhancing perspective taking, the capacity to see a person’s situation from his or her point of view, coupled with enhanced value being placed on the welfare of those who are unfamiliar can override bias."

And honestly it made me think of some reactions I've seen to the kdrama Queen of Tears.

The premise of the show is that a middle class guy met a chaebol (member of a family that owns a giant corporation) woman without knowing her family owned the company he worked for, and they fell in love. They got married, but it turns out marrying into a chaebol can be awful. Plus they had a miscarriage and afterwards his wife internalized everything and refused to communicate or show any emotion, so he felt extremely alone. When she ordered everything in the nursery to be thrown away without consulting him about it, he moved into the nursery as his separate bedroom.

So their relationship is in a really bad place when the show starts, her family treats him horribly, they overwork him, etc. He hates his life and he wants out, and he's trying to figure out if he can get a divorce. But then his wife is diagnosed with brain cancer and he finds out that short of a miracle, she'll die in a few months.

His first reaction to hearing this is to be happy that he'll be free soon. This made a fair few people very upset. Some people dropped the show because of it (which sucks to be them because it's awesome and it's so popular in South Korea that it's getting special episodes after it finishes) and some are doing the anti thing about it and I heard some even ship the female lead with the male character who manipulated her family and took over their company and who threatens and hurts dogs?

Anyway, I'm wondering how much of the whole "anti" mess and weird purity stuff about fiction is an inability to take the perspective of others, even fictional others. Like maybe the people who got so upset aren't able to put themselves in the shoes of someone who's been suffering for years and who finally sees a way out. And yes, of course it's a temporary feeling and he still does love his wife and the show is based on them healing their relationship and coming back together. So yeah, I don't know. Just was struck by the thought that maybe so many opinions on fiction that I find weird online come from people who can't take the perspective of others.

#long post #queen of tears #kdrama

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mochiiniko · 2 months

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HELLO KJ TUMBLR get your crumbs lol

i made some kaijo redesigns bc ive been thinking about the show more recently, character sheets and rambles under the cut :>

(also their group name is a reference to no more miracles on ao3, please read it its so good 😭)

first off!! queen my beloved (<- absolutely no bias whatsoever)

i actually think her canon design is really cute, but honestly with her whole swordfighting thing i feel like it would be better if she had an outfit that communicated that well. i made the poncho (cape thing?? idk) be attachable to either sides of the blouse because i just forgot to stick to one side, thats my excuse for not redrawing queens design sheet lmao

next up!! good lird (im sorry joker ily but. honey 😭)

hes supposed to be a parallel to the joker card but he looks more like a magician??? unfortunately im attached to his canon design no matter how much i hate it so i wanted to keep the whole suit thing. i wanted to add some jester motifs without having to change his hat, so i swapped his cape for a tailcoat and added the classic duo colors you see in jester designs (also just want to rant about clover getting the jester hat for some reason???? that might be a protagonist-antagonist parallel in the story but its been a while since ive watched it so im not sure)

i really dont like how jumbled the palette in his canon design is because!! theres too much going on!!! i remember seeing an alternate version of his suit in one of the kj valentines magazine pages, and it had a really nice velvet color which honestly suits him better

lastly!! the reason why there isnt a sheet for spade is because honestly i think his design is really good as is?? i didnt really know what else to add because his design communicates his character really well and he has a pretty good color palette

i might try to redesign more characters when i have the time but ngl this is just an excuse for me to redesign joker 💀

#kaitou joker #chiimo art shenanigans #thinkijg of redesigning rose next because i am forever salty that she just #keeps the outift clover put her in #like #no

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mvrtaiswriting · 10 months

Note

Hi! I love your OP writing! I know you said pick 2 characters, but the injury no.8 prompt screams Zoro. Inspo for another swiftie!! Like imagine Safe and Sound is you trying to convince him to rest because you almost lost him, but he's too macho to admit it and just wants to drink....

Roronoa Zoro x prompt 8 (taking care of a lover's injury) - "You need stitches and bedrest, not booze and more fights."

aaah thanks for this request and sorry about the wait! i absolutely agree - this scenario can only fit zoro!! it's so nice to have a fellow swiftie among my readers!! i have to admit, however, that this diverted a bit from safe and sound cause Zoro just screams angst to me :// hope this is okay and worth the wait! enjoy and lmk what you think!

gender neutral | 582 words | mentions of wounds.

reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated ♡ if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee. -> from this event.

The usual crouch on the bridge of his nose never left Zoro's face, not even now, resting in his bed with his whole body wrapped in bandages. If anything, the crouch seemed deeper - the usual peacefulness of his sleep being instead replaced with annoyance. It was a miracle Zoro was still alive - he had several broken bones, stitches in various parts of his body and a very severe concussion that worried Chopper enough to force the swordsman to bed. All of that and a whole lot of attitude - nothing could stop him from crossing his arms across his chest, trying to maintain his menacing appearance.

"Would you just relax?" you sighed.

"You know what would relax me?" he retorted, his good eye shooting daggers at you.

Causing you to sigh again, you sat on the bed with him. Zoro was holding a grudge, and it wasn't different from a toddler protesting against their parents, kicking his feet, giving you the silent treatment but never sparing a venomous remark. Only because you dared to stop him from leaving the bed and drink some booze; all because his strength failed him when his body collapsed under your touch, unable to push against you. As much as he hated to admit it, Zoro needed rest. He needed time to heal, to let his body recover from the multiple traumas it had just endured. Being forced to stay in bed made Zoro to think - memories, feelings, doubts: they all came back to surface the moment he stopped focusing on his rigorous training and gave up on being too inebriated by alcohol to think. And he didn't like it - he didn't like the nostalgia, the questioning, the feelings.

"You need stitches and bedrest, not booze and more fights." you answered, another long sigh escaping your lips.

Sitting down next to him, you checked his bandages. He was healing fine but slowly, his constant movements and stupid attempts to snuggle out of bed reopening his wounds.

Defenceless, Zoro let you fix his bandaids, a few flebile grunts rolling of his lips anytime you cleaned his wounds. Looking away from you, a warm red coloured his cheeks - deep down, Zoro liked this. Having you so close to him drove him crazy, goosebumps forming all over his body, causing him to shiver so much it almost hurt.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?"

Zoro asked, almost through gritted teeth. If he really had to stay in bed, he might as well take advantage of it. If you really had to take care of him, he thought, you might as well snuggle against his chest. If he really had to give up drinking for a while, then the butterflies he felt in his stomach every time you were around would get him high enough.

"Of course."

A smile immediately appeared on your lips, lightening up your whole face.

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece fanart #straw hat crew #straw hat pirates #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #pirate hunter zoro #op zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro fanfic #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #one piece zoro #roanoa zoro #zoro roronoa #zoro

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comradekatara · 3 months

Note

hi!! i'm sorry i don't go on tumblr a lot anymore but i was trying to look up sokka/yue playlists and i found a post of urs that said u might make one/have made one!! i was just wondering if u have it still since i'm not sure when that post was made? thank u so much for ur time!!

i definitely have one...... in my head......... but because spotify hates me, i lost access to my account shortly after i made my (extremely slept-on) katara playlist, so i never got around to making any more character playlists officially. but i can definitely make one for sokka and yue now! in no particular order...

my love, mine all mine – mitski (song, lyrics)*

fast car – tracy chapman (song, lyrics)*

57821 – janelle monáe (song, lyrics)

earth angel – the penguins (song, lyrics)

don't let me sleep – shana cleveland (song, lyrics)

cosmia – joanna newsom (song, lyrics)

watching you without me – kate bush (song, lyrics)

goodbye ghost – la luz (song, lyrics)

they can't take that away from me – ella fitzgerald & louis armstrong (song, lyrics)

happy – mitski (song, lyrics)

kokomo, indiana – japanese breakfast (song, lyrics)

fernando – abba (song, lyrics)*

northern lights – st. vincent (song, lyrics)

day dreaming – aretha franklin (song, lyrics)

don't judge me – janelle monáe (song, lyrics)

i want you – mitski (song, lyrics)*

i'll be seeing you – billie holiday (song, lyrics)

black roses – escondido (song, lyrics)*

starchild – ghost quarter (song, lyrics)*

slow like honey – fiona apple (song, lyrics)

dissolve me – alt-j (song, lyrics)

stars – grace potter & the nocturnals (song, lyrics)

timefighter – lucy dacus (song, lyrics)

tides – the xx (song, lyrics)

moon river – audrey hepburn (song, lyrics)

doused – diiv (song, lyrics)*

isle unto thyself – miracle musical (song, lyrics)

i bet on losing dogs – mitski (song, lyrics)

ready, able – grizzly bear (song, lyrics)*

have to go – esther rada (song)

responsible – sara bareilles (song, lyrics)

picture me better – weyes blood (song, lyrics)

also, some bonus sokka songs, just for fun

the motherlode – the staves (song, lyrics)*

only kid on the block – cherry glazerr (song, lyrics)

hater's anthem – infinity song (song, lyrics)*

my way – frank sinatra (song, lyrics)

heat lightning – mitski (song, lyrics)*

mouth log – sidney gish (song, lyrics)

creep – radiohead (yes) (song, lyrics)

under ice – kate bush (song, lyrics)

funeral – phoebe bridgers (song, lyrics)*

window – fiona apple (song, lyrics)

how could i – thao & the get down stay down (song, lyrics)

blue spotted tail – fleet foxes (song, lyrics)

P.S. asterisks (*) indicate that the link to the song provided is a music video or live performance and not just an official recording

#i couldve made this entire playlist with mitski songs EXCLUSIVELY. know that i bravely refrained #sokka #yue #sokkaxyue #asks #atlamusic #ihauntmyselfdaily #oh. of course someone w this url would ask me this kind of question. of course #why was this soooooo time consuming #(i already had a list written out on my phone. believe or not. but finding all the links was so tedious)#of course it's worth it tho. as a testament to my insanity #also if anyone DOES have spotify and wants to make this playlist for me (excluding some artists who arent on there like joanna newsom sadly #and then link it to me. that would make me very happy. btw <3 #my music taste must seem so sappy assuming this is as a standard sample........ it's noooottttttt #(but also. isn't it a little?)

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writingfics-passingtime · 10 months

Note

Hello my love!! For the mistake prompts:

Miracle Baby by Nothing but Thieves + Dealers choice!

This is such a fun idea😮‍💨 Happy drabbles!

Wasting My Time

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: Miracle Baby

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader (romantic, no pronouns used but disclaimer that this one feels more female-implied than others)

Word Count: ~1450

CW: Swearing, mentions of drugs, explicitly implied sex

Note: First, I love the subtle roast calling this a “mistake prompt” thank you Ella 😂 this song is so cool and gave me hazy dive bar feelings, and going-home-with-hot-stranger feelings. Hope you enjoy!

Matt hated things like this.

His fingers idly tapped against the cool condensation blanketing the beer bottle on the bar in front of him, halfway torn between thinking about his trial in the morning and debating whether to go out tonight. Either way, he was itching to leave.

It was loud. The obnoxious kind of loud, not the kind where you could feel the appreciation for life and joy and merriment. Being dragged along to these stupid law school alumni mixers was the worst way to spend a Sunday evening. Yeah, you hated things like this.

But you’d just spotted the perfect distraction.

At your 10 o’clock. Tall, dark, handsome, sitting alone at the bar. Better yet, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here, so, common ground.

You made your way through the masses, through the thick and clogged atmosphere saturated with terrible work-related jokes and the desperation to impress. Everyone else was in a sea of familiar faces but not you. You didn’t go to Columbia for law school. You only came because your roommate was too shy to come alone and promised she wouldn’t abandon you the exact way she did about five minutes ago.

Besides, you’d only lived in New York for three months and you’d spent so much energy settling into your dream law job that you hadn’t given much attention to making friends. Or to sex. But that was about to change.

Hence, the lone wolf at the bar.

After ordering some kind of sour cherry and lime cocktail with an over-the-top name, you settled on the stool next to the man. He didn’t acknowledge you and a quick glance at his walking stick gave you an indication as to why not.

“Let me guess,” you turned your head towards him and he looked your way. “Criminal law?”

He nodded, smiling with half his mouth. “What gave it away: the cheap suit, or the air of constant dread?”

You laughed, and the sound of it made Matt’s smile crack open. “You didn’t hand me a business card the second I sat down. And the lack of white powder around your nose.”

He laughed back, and you were successfully distracted.

His name was Matt, you soon learned. Past knowing he practised criminal law and that he graduated from Columbia you learned nothing more about his law career. You told him you were new in town, he told you he’d lived here his whole life, you told him you were grateful to meet someone so normal who’s been around forever and still thinks this city is worth staying in. He asked you why you chose New York and you said it just seemed like the right place to be. You couldn’t explain in. You blushed when you admitted it and your heartbeat picked up, so maybe you were doubting that decision.

He asked you about your hometown and turned his body completely towards you. You told him about it, about escaping on scholarship to Princeton, and your knees were soon gently resting against his. Somewhere throughout the course of the conversation, he rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to just below his elbows. He took his time, made a subtle show of it.

You sipped slowly, Matt noticed; you weren’t here to get drunk. The citrus of your drink complimented the lavender in your shampoo, body wash, whatever the fuck it was that was the calmest thing in this place. It was clear you two were getting on well. So much so, no one bothered you.

Finally, he asked: “Where do you practise?”

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head and pulled a knotted cherry stem from your teeth. “You and I are having a nice conversation here, Matt,” you chuckled. “All I do, all fucking day, is talk about law, think about law, breathe the fucking law-”

He grinned and held up an apologetic hand. “Message received.”

“Let’s talk about anything else.”

“Okay,” he held up that same hand towards you, putting the ball squarely in your court. “Shoot.”

You narrowed your eyes and twirled the stem between your fingertips. After a moment of contemplation, knowing very well where this may lead, you decided that this tall, dark and handsome distraction was worth the risky line.

“Do you think you could beat a grizzly bear in a fight?”

His eyebrows shot up but he didn’t stutter. “Excuse me?”

“No weapons. Pure brawn. One-on-one. Who wins, you or the bear?”

“The bear,” he waved his hand decisively. “No question.”

“Thank god,” you breathed in relief, nursing a smirk behind the stem in your fingers. His puzzled look was his question, so you answered. “Six percent of American men think they could beat a grizzly bear in a fight. Which means, there are about…” you looked around in a estimate head count, “four men in this bar who vastly overestimate their abilities.”

Matt bumped his eyebrows. Another question.

“I’m just making sure you’re not one of the four,” you said after another sip. Your glass was almost empty.

“Oh?” Matt cocked his head and found himself drawn in closer. “And why is that?”

You placed your now-empty glass down, letting it hit with a finality against the wooden bar. “Forgive me if I read you wrong, just seemed like you were searching for a reason to get the hell outta here too.”

Matt let your comment linger, and lifted the bottle to his lips to take another swig. He drained the last little bit and placed it on the counter next to yours. Your heart was beating pretty fast and you tried to calm your cherry-stained breathing, tried to look cool and collected. You wanted him, and you were the perfect distraction.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Your breath in was shaky. Risky. No one else would’ve heard it.

“I’m just making sure I’m not wasting my time,” you said. “It’s not usually that fun, going home with a man who thinks they’re more capable than they actually are.”

He laughed once through his nose and pulled his beaten leather wallet from his coat pocket, placing thirty on the table to cover his beer, your cocktail and a tip for the bartender. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he stood and held his open palm out to you. You took his hand and left your stool with your coat and bag over your other arm. He leaned down, leaned in, so you could hear his husky promise over the sound of the bar. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Sufficed to say, you had never met a more capable man.

His place was nice, his sheets were clean, he was strong and generous and attentive and that was a big problem. Because this was supposed to just be a distraction. A one-night thing. But it was hard to leave his bed at two thirty in the morning, it felt like tearing yourself away. And that was a problem.

Stay, he’d said. He had fresh towels, a toothbrush, he’d call you a cab in the morning after he’d made you coffee. I can’t, you said. On any other night you would have, but tomorrow was a big day. He understood, didn’t press the matter, and he called you a cab after wishing you a twenty-minute goodbye.

It was only at quarter to nine that same morning, when you were walking up the front steps with a takeaway coffee in hand, that you realised you didn’t have any way to contact him other than through your roommate, who might have his information. You didn’t even know Matt’s last name.

Matt thought about you as Foggy prepped the client in hushed whispers from the defence table. As he straightened files and pens and his personal voice recorder, he wondered when he’d run into you again. You’d been a good distraction. Too good. It was like you were still next to him, like he could still smell the cherry and lime, the lavender and honey and-… wait.

You settled next to your boss and put thoughts of last night out of your head, ready and focused to take on the day. It was a big one. For the first time since moving to New York, you were the lead on a case.

Matt’s mind raced as he listened to every whisper in the courtroom, and as he listened to them hush as the judge kicked off proceedings from the bench.

“Are we ready to begin?” Judge Wallace asked in a deadpan, looking straight to the defence’s table. Foggy stood.

“Defence is ready, Your Honour.”

From fifteen feet away, Matt heard the prosecutor stand. He closed his eyes behind his glasses and held in a sigh when he heard your voice say:

“Thank you, Your Honour. The State is ready to proceed.”

Oh… fuck.

#spicy matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock Drabble #matt Murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #i love enemies to lovers but is this the opposite ???#Yes I’ve been gone for three plus months #But im just in the mood to write today #and I’m on a Matt Murdock high right now #Marvel x reader #JJ’s mixtape

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livingformintyoongi1 · 4 months

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First Time | Kim Taehyung

This is a little drabble of the Style series, I wanted to write about this series and this came out lol, I hope you like it. Warnings: Fluff, slight Smut, Actress!Reader, Tae is an idol, but is taking a break from music and entered acting again, mention of "Daytime Star" (Beautiful webtoon). wc: 3.3k

When Tae offered you to go to his house to practice the dialogues for the later chapters, you didn't hesitate to say yes. He was the man you trusted the most, you adored him; he was sweet, funny, charismatic and very polite. He was exactly what any girl would want in her life. You were completely grateful that he was your co-star in the k-drama "Daytime Star," and even more grateful that he allowed you to practice alongside him.

"Have you read the script for episode 13 yet?" muttered Tae with his eyes fixed on the thick stack of sheets labeled 'Daytime Star | Chapter 13'.

"Yes!" you smiled as you stood up, with the script tightly clenched in your hands - quite small compared to Tae's - and peeked over to see his, "There's a scene in the kitchen in this one" you looked at your co-worker, friend at this point, and couldn't help but blush at the thought of what you had to do. You didn't think you were strong enough to see Tae shirtless.

He nodded, almost as if it was nothing new. You wondered internally if he had already done something similar with another girl, though that wasn't your problem. "Looks like it," he gave you a tight-lipped smile, leaving the script on the table and resting his full attention on you as he stretched his arms above his head. "I didn't think they'd have any racy scenes, are you sure you can handle that? From what you've told me, you don't have much experience in this area," Tae's cheeks flushed heavily as he watched you shrink in place, looking down at your feet, "I-I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, you're right, I've actually never made a scene like that before" you sighed defeatedly. You hated not being experienced enough to be true to the role you had been given almost by miracle.

"We could talk to the director and ask him to remove that scene and..." said Tae, too quickly for you to interrupt. But you still took his hand, giving him such a soft, sweet smile that he stopped on his own.

"Tae, I really appreciate your concern, but I also don't want to affect the recording. Besides, it's part of my job to accommodate the character, and if Yura needs to make out with Seunghyeon for the advancement of the plot, then I'll have to do it," you couldn't help the blush that grew from your ears to your neck. In your head it sounded better. Much better.

You shrank in place as you felt his lingering gaze on you, had you overstepped your bounds by saying that, or maybe... he didn't want to make that scene?

That idea completely terrified you. You looked at him with fear in your eyes, and before you could apologize in case he's the one who ultimately doesn't want to expose himself that way, his deep voice interrupted you.

"Then let's practice that scene" he muttered, looking around his apartment, as if he was searching for something. "It all starts after Yura makes Seunghyeon a coffee, right?" lightly squeezing your hand, he walked at a slow pace to his kitchen, "I saw a bit of the webtoon, my kitchen looks a bit like it, so we could take advantage of that."

You were dumbfounded. With your mouth wide open in amazement. You'd kissed Tae before, for the show, of course, but to have him kiss you, take off his shirt for you, and lift you up and press you against his kitchen was... too much.

You shook your head, pushing that idea out of your head. You were a professional, and you would take this situation as such. Yeah, you definitely weren't going to think about how bad this would be for your weak heart.

"Okay, so..." he paused for a moment, quickly reading the dialogues before stopping at you, "let's start with the part where Seunghyeon appears from behind Yura and rests his hand against the kitchen, is that okay with you?" he looked up so he could get your approval. You almost got choked up when you saw his eyes. You just nodded quickly, knowing inside that you wouldn't be able to answer him with words.

You took a breath of air, grabbing one of the cups Tae had drying and positioned it in front of you, without letting go of the handle. A few seconds later you felt the warmth of Tae's body behind your back. You ignored the shiver that ran down your back. Your gaze was fixed on the cup, only straying when Tae's hand appeared next to yours, touching the counter with his fingertips.

You closed your eyes, squeezing them shut as you could feel Tae's breath brush against your ear.

"What about what I said?" he whispered hoarsely, causing your legs to tremble slightly.

You admired his professionalism, and you really needed some of it for the scene.

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows drawn together between your brows, just as the script called for you to do. You couldn't help but think of the difference in height between the two of you. In a firm voice, but without anger or malice, you replied "You're laughing at me, aren't you?".

And for a second you felt your whole body melt at Tae's smitten smile. He was seriously a great actor, you couldn't look at anyone with those eyes so... bright and soft.

You grumbled as you watched his smile grow even bigger at your question. You shook your head and straightened up, turning all your attention back to the cup with coffee -which, right now, was just an empty cup-. "Ugh, you're hopeless, Seunghyeon Kang, you know that?" you muttered with fake anger, and not only because that anger was from a character and not yours, if not because you knew Yura wouldn't say it with malice, not towards the person who loved her the most -after her best friend, of course-.

"What did you call me?" Tae asked mockingly, resting his left hand on the counter, leaving you completely trapped. You were starting to get nervous.

"What?" you turned your whole body towards him, raising your eyebrows, "You want me to call you Seunghyeon Kim instead of...?"

Yeah, you didn't really expect him to kiss you, though it didn't have to surprise you. That kiss was coming out in the scene. You obviously followed the kiss, after all, right now it wasn't you and Taehyung, co-workers, it was Yura and Seunghyeon, a happy acting couple just starting to date.

You remembered how in the script it appeared that you had to take his shirt and wrinkle it. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but a sleeveless white Celine T-shirt. Unable to hold onto his arms, you brought your hands to his chest, crumpling the fabric near his shoulders. A shiver ran down your back for the second time, but this time, it had every right to appear. Taehyung had moaned against your lips as you felt yourself clinging to his shirt. Your rational side mentally pleaded that he'd only done it for the practice and not for... well, the kiss.

You weren't sure how long you must have been kissing, but you were sure it must not have been that long. You distinctly remembered it appearing as 'a chaste kiss' or something like that, your photographic memory starting to fail for every second that Tae kept moving his sides against yours. You were starting to feel bad for how good you felt.

He pulled away just inches, his dark eyes planted on yours. You swallowed saliva as you watched him run his tongue over his lips. "I need you to open your mouth a little" he murmured.

You tensed all over. You were beginning to question whether this was still part of practice or not. "Y-yes" you whispered, gasping as you felt his hands hold you by your thighs and lift you up to lay you on the counter. This did appear in the script.

Even with the embarrassment you felt, you parted your lips just slightly, letting out a sigh as Tae approached you at that very moment. Unlike what you thought, his kisses were much more lazy and soft. The way he had pulled you close to him, you thought he would kiss you until you were breathless. Although this wasn't too bad either.

His right hand went up to linger on the back of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair at the same time his left hand stopped at your waist and drew little circles on the cream colored vest you were wearing.

With some uncertainty, you brought your hands to the back of his head, drawing him closer to you. Your fingers began to grab small strands and making swirls with them. You sighed as you felt him gasp against your lips as you pulled his hair slightly. This man was going to be the end of you.

"Y/N" he murmured in agitation, resting his forehead against yours. "Can I touch you?"

You choked on your saliva, staring at him with wide eyes. That definitely wasn't in the script. "S-sorry?" your hands began to tremble slightly as you realized what he had said, because he had, in short, said your name.

"Just... you don't need to say yes, it was an impulse and..." As soon as you noticed how he tried to pull away from you, you wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, pulling him to you again.

"No!" you squealed, unsure of what you were doing, "I... I don't have a problem with you doing it" you whispered, unable to look at his face. Suddenly you wanted the earth to swallow you up.

"Oh" Tae smiled brightly, feeling his heart warm with tenderness as he watched you blush and start rambling on about something he hadn't heard. You were talking very softly.

"Honey," he whispered against your forehead, pressing his lips against the skin there. You couldn't see it, but his smitten smile and the slight blush on his cheeks showed he was just as nervous as you were, "if at any point you feel like it's too much, tell me."

You just nodded, closing your eyes tightly as you felt Tae's warm hand rest on your thigh and move up to touch the end of your skirt. His free hand busied itself with gently lifting the vest so he could touch your skin beneath it. He growled softly as he realized you weren't wearing a shirt or anything from the vest.

"You came without a shirt?" he whispered over your shoulder, leaving soft kisses as he moved up your neck and stopped at your ear.

"I usually wear my vests like that, so I don't get so many clothes dirty" you said between stutters. He barely touched you, they were light, loving touches that you only felt because of his warmth and yet he still left you in that state. It was too embarrassing.

He didn't respond, he seemed to be too busy kissing the skin behind your ear. You removed your hand from Tae's hair and dragged it down to his waist, where his shirt was hidden under his pants. With clumsy and too shy movements - because, even though it wasn't your first time, something about this man made you act 1000 times clumsier than you already were - you pulled his shirt off and slipped your hand inside, enjoying how the touch made his whole body tremble. You didn't know you could have that reaction.

You closed your eyes, letting your hand roam all over his back, caressing every bit of skin your hands could reach.

You weren't sure at what point it happened, but, almost magically, your vest had disappeared and now Tae's lips traveled from your collarbone to your waist, leaving wetter and wetter kisses.

You were thankful he didn't remove your bra, you would be too embarrassed if he saw you completely naked.

"Do you want me to take off my shirt?" he whispered just above where your skirt covered your waist, a little below your belly button. His fully dilated dark eyes stared at you, causing a spasm to make you jump up and down on the counter.

"Y-yes, please" you rested your hands on his shoulders, wondering if you should help him.

But you didn't need to. He stood up, reminding you how tall he really was. He quickly took off his polo shirt and threw it somewhere in the kitchen. Your mouth went dry almost immediately. He was too beautiful to be real.

His dark, lust-filled gaze deepened as he noticed how you were unable to take your gaze off his body. He approached you at a slow pace, reaching out his hand and taking a lock of your hair so he could kiss it.

"I like your hair" he whispered, letting the lock fall over your bare shoulder. You could only stand still, contemplating every move he made. "And your eyes" he moved closer to your face, resting his lips for a couple of seconds on each of your eyes, "Your nose" you laughed as he kissed the tip of your nose, crinkling it slightly as you pulled away a little, just enough to look into his face, "and definitely your lips" he whispered, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and moving closer to you so he could kiss you.

Unlike the slow, gentle kisses he had given you at the beginning, this time Tae seemed to be completely out of control. His lips were devouring you as if you were going to disappear at that very moment. No one had ever kissed you like that. It was all teeth clashing and tongues tangling, a couple of soft moans came from his lips every now and then, and you couldn't help but want to touch him.

"Tae" you gasped as soon as he pulled away from you. You needed to have his attention for a second before he launched himself on your lips, and his face screamed all over the place that he would.

His lustful gaze faded immediately. Now his dark eyes only reflected concern.

"Did I go too far, do you need me to stop?" he stammered nervously, he tried to turn around to reach for your clothes, but you stopped him with your hand.

"It's not that, in fact, I'm quite enjoying it" you confessed with red cheeks and gaze fixed on his lips. They looked a little more swollen and glossy. "It's just...can I touch you?"

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, until Tae laughed softly and cupped your cheeks, kissing you repeatedly.

"God, you're so cute," he said between kisses, with a big smile. You didn't get the funny, "You can touch anything you want, I'm completely yours" he whispered happily, closing his eyes and resting his nose against yours.

"Anything I want?" you looked at him with your eyes sparkling. That was quite an offer, very tempting.

"Absolutely everything" he nodded, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles, his gaze on yours at all times.

You nodded with pursed lips, "you can go about your business" you whispered, bringing your trembling hands to his chest. You felt too nervous, how were you supposed to act when the man in front of you was so stupidly beautiful?

Tae's kisses were getting messier and messier, as were his caresses all over your body - especially your inner thighs. You tried to do the same with him, but you still felt too shy to do so, so you took to caressing his arms and shoulder blades, burying your nails into his skin when the kisses got too wild. You couldn't even remember how you got here.

His fingers began to play teasingly with the zipper of your skirt, making you groan in frustration. He definitely didn't seem to have any intentions of taking it off, and you seriously wanted, needed, it to be out of the way.

"I need you to hold on to me" he whispered, lightly biting the skin of your collarbone, causing a high pitched moan to leave your lips. "I don't want our first time together to be in my kitchen" he growled, grabbing you by the bottom of your thighs and lifting you up with ease.

"What...?" You were confused and too excited to think hard about what he had just said, "Where are you taking me?"

"To my bed" he smiled, kissing your lips softly, continuing his walk. Luckily, he thought, he didn't need to keep his eyes open to get to his room. He knew the way by heart.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, becoming enraptured at the beautiful face he had. You couldn't contain yourself and brought your fingertips to his cheeks, caressing gently. You wanted this man to be completely yours, far beyond the physical. You wanted to be able to wake up next to him, to laugh next to him, to comfort him when he needed a shoulder to cry on. You wanted him to want you the way you wanted him.

Before you knew it, Tae already had you lying on his dark blue sheets. They were soft and cool, but his scent was permeating them, and you adored that.

He put both arms on either side of your face, his deep gaze still sending shivers down your spine. "We don't have to do this if you don't feel ready yet" he whispered, bringing his hand up to your face and caressing your cheek. You closed your eyes as you felt his touch against your skin. It was so warm and electrifying that you wanted more of him. So much more.

"I'm ready," you murmured, stroking his hair. Standing beneath him, with his arms around your head, the nervousness and shyness no longer seemed to affect you. You brought your hands up to touch the hair at the nape of his neck, fiddling with it as you brought your lips to his chest, where you assumed and hoped his heart was. "I trust you, I know you would never hurt me."

You could see Adam's apple rise and fall at your comment, at the same time as his breathing became increasingly ragged.

"You're going to destroy me one of these days" he joked, leaving a soft kiss on your chest, right in the same place you did with him, "But that's okay, I see no better ending than being destroyed by your hands."

At another time you would have laughed at how corny it sounded, but having him half naked, on top of you, with his hair in disarray and breathing heavily didn't help matters.

"Is it okay if I take your skirt off?" he murmured, running his fingers down your body until he stopped at the zipper of your skirt.

You lifted your hips, barely brushing against his, "Hell, yeah, I was hoping you'd do it sooner" you chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Sorry" he smiled broadly. For some reason, you could feel his nervousness, and you loved to think he felt the same way you did.

His fingers caught the zipper of your skirt and greedily pulled it down, pulling them off your legs as soon as he had reached the end. You were still wearing your underwear, but you still felt too exposed... in a good way.

"Are you ready?" he whispered in front of your crotch covered by your panties. Your breath hitched for an instant, but you managed to nod awkwardly. "Good, because I don't think I can contain myself from here on out" he gave you one last mean smile before pulling down your panties and plunging into your intimacy.

#bts #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #bts x you #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung #v x reader #imaginas v #tae x reader #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts one shot #bts v

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fancifulplaguerat · 10 months

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Time to put Daniil back on the vivisection table because I am not done with him. I’ve been thinking recently about Daniil’s reaction to Aglaya’s ‘betrayal,’ because honestly I feel like people don’t talk enough about how much it affects him, or how much it influences his decision in the Cathedral. When I finished the Haruspex Route, I was kind of surprised by how central Aglaya’s death was to Daniil’s arguments in favor of the utopian ending—when Daniil tries to convince Artemy to save the Polyhedron, one of his main points is that in doing so, Aglaya will die. I also remember being struck on Day 12 of the Bachelor Route by that lengthy dialogue with Artemy, where he defends Aglaya and Daniil insists upon her betrayal. In the Bachelor Route, this breach of Daniil’s trust is a fundamental aspect of what informs his final decision, and is arguably centred more than the Polyhedron or Kains’ miracles.

This makes sense to me, because I don’t think Daniil has such a strong reaction to anything else in Patho, not even Simon’s death—even though there’s much customary Dankovsky rage in his reaction, it seems underlined by genuine hurt. For instance, when he asks, “Aglaya, how could you do this? This is an honest to God betrayal. I trusted you...” It even feels a little childish, for want of a better word, how he says “I don’t want to talk to you. I despise you.” It’s also ridiculously hypocritical how he lashes out at Aglaya, telling her that revenge is a poor companion for someone like her, while simultaneously saying shit like “I do not want to take revenge on the Powers That Be anymore. I want to take revenge on you, Aglaya,” or “Watch me sign your death sentence.”

Returning to that dialogue with Artemy, I enjoy how his defense of Aglaya sort of picks apart this reaction:

Haruspex: You're just holding a grudge, oynon, nothing more. You only feel betrayed because you've entrusted yourself to her—but that was your own choice. It's unwise to brand someone a savior beforehand and then denounce them when they fail to live up to your expectations—even though they didn't know you had them.

> She knew. That's the difference. She knew and exploited my hopes.

[...]

Haruspex: The feeling that hinders you now is rage, oynon. You feel deceived because you put too much hope in those who have been guiding you all this time. Consider the fact that Aglaya has been guiding you according to her own truth. She is a servant of the Law.

> It doesn't matter—she has deceived and betrayed me. She treated me like a pawn, and I won't ever forgive her for that.

I feel Aremy’s emphasis on how Daniil feels hurt because he put too much hope and trust in Aglaya gestures to that Daniil seems pretty trusting by nature. I think how he acts in the Haruspex Route in particular suggests that he might not give out his trust completely right away, but he still strikes me as quite a social and collaborative person, despite everything. Just in how he quickly refers to Aglaya and Block as his best friends, or works amicably with Rubin and Artemy, or refers to his relationship with characters like Saburov as friendship, rather than an alliance or something similar. And it seems that Daniil truly did trust Aglaya, because when Clara first tells him about her plot, he shoots back, “You liar. Aglaya is my best friend and the most reliable ally I have.” So again, I think there’s an undertone of personal hurt here that goes beyond anger at being a pawn or made to tell lies (though in my opinion, they weren’t *really* lies).

In this vein, I want to mention that Daniil already seems to associate lies with deception and a breach of trust, given this dialogue:

Herb Bride: Do you really never tell lies?

> I hate lies.

> Nothing is more villainous than deceit.*

Herb Bride: Why? I didn't say 'deceit'. Telling a lie doesn't equal deceit.

> All my life those who pretended that black was white prohibited me from winning. Every deceit hides someone's dark intentions.

Herb Bride: What makes you think they have to be dark?

> Because they replace the true state of affairs with a false one to profit from someone else's suffering.

> It's in their nature.

The exchange provides some interesting insight into why Daniil despises lies so much—they have been used to fool him before, and prevented him from accomplishing his goals. I doubt this is his singular reason, but he seems to see lies as inherently manipulative and exploitative, which probably added salt to wound in the Aglaya situation. Daniil likely assumed that she had the worst intentions and took it as a personal attack against his victory, when really, Aglaya’s deceit was in their mutual interest in terms of getting back at The Powers That Be. After all, they wanted the Town unchanged, so to destroy part of it would indeed allow Daniil and Aglaya revenge.

A final thing I want to mention is in an opening dialogue, when an Executor tells Daniil that “He who trusts everyone is asking to be deceived.” One of Daniil’s replies is, “Yet he who trusts no one is deluded. I know that from experience.” Which potentially makes this even more depressing, if Daniil was previously rather guarded. I could see how Daniil could fall into considering himself his only ally, as he has rather outlandish goals that many people likely wouldn’t take seriously. Or perhaps it was from a place of ‘I know better than everyone else,’ which drove him to not take others seriously. Either way, the dialogue implies that Daniil was initially not as trusting as he seems in the game proper.

I like that Daniil is trusting and hopeful; I personally dislike the idea that that is somehow more naïve than being guarded or pessimistic. I consider it one of his strengths, which allows him to work with others (even if he can be exceedingly ornery sometimes) and is an important foundation for his ideals. It’s all just sad to me how Daniil’s own virtues end up being used against him, but it makes an interesting case study of his character

#pathologic #daniil dankovsky #aglaya lilich #patho.txt

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wintervalewritersecond · 1 year

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christmas miracle - wednesday addams

requested: yes! requests: open! Is it possible for a wednesday x reader where after the battle of Crackstone and going home Wednesday realize that she has feelings for Reader and fast forward to nearing christmas Reader visits Wednesday to give her a present reader promised back at Nevermore and before reader left, wednesday tells reader her feelings but needs time to process it because she is not use to romantic feelings?

A/N: merry christmas! <3 i tried to incorporate some addams family tv show and musical elements in it as well :') I'm sorry if it feels rushed, i wanted to have it finished before Christmas ended <3

wordcount: 2,144 warnings: they/them pronouns, characters may be ooc.

A Christmas miracle has come true when Wednesday reveals her emotions to you. In a way.

"Oh, hello darling! Lurch, get their bags, will you?"

Morticia Addams opened the door with a smile on her face. Her eyeshadow is as black as night and her lips are painted a bloody red, though you guess it fits the Christmas theme as well. You had been invited to the Addams household this Christmas. Your own parents were not going to be home and back at Nevermore you had promised Wednesday a gift. After exchanging multiple letters, she had invited you.

You were excited to celebrate it with her. You were used to the whole Santa Claus tradition, but you knew that Wednesday had something else prepared. Lurch then takes hold of your bags, already up the stairs so place them in Wednesday's room.

"I can not believe we finally have one of Wednesday's friends over. Please, let me show you around."

You follow the tall lady through the hall and into the living room. On your way to it, you can already see tons of strange and unusual decorations. A small guillotine stood in the hallway, a beheaded Marie Antoinette doll resting next to it, though the head seemed to be missing.

"Ah, that is a gift Wednesday once received. Oh, how she loved that guillotine. She even had it on a birthday cake once."

You could have guessed that. Wednesday has become your best friend in the last semester, so you knew exactly what the girl liked or disliked. A guillotine at the age of seven? She would have been thrilled. Finally, you enter the living room.

It is absolutely grand. Luxurious fabrics and curtains, tons of taxidermy, a dark piano, and a noose hanging from the ceiling. Though you are not nearly as dark as Wednesday or her family, you surely did find all of it interesting.

"Wednesday!"

The pig-tailed girl walks down the stairs, her face stoic, yet it looks like she is enjoying herself much more than she did at Nevermore.

"Y/N, welcome. I hope you like our Christmas decorations," Wednesday looks over at the dead Christmas tree which stands in the middle of the room.

"Oh, of course!" You smile, looking at your friend.

She is wearing something similar to her usual attire. A black dress with white accents, yet not too many. You recall her saying that that would take away from her ability to look ghostly.

"This tree has been in our family for years," Morticia mumbles dreamily, "It belonged to Gomez, you know!"

Gomez walks out of the same entrance that Wednesday had come out of, his suit crisp and nicely ironed. A big smile is on his face as he greets you, also gesturing to the tree.

"Yes, I picked this many moons ago! I took each and every prickly needle out of it myself. I was so convinced that Santa Claus would hang more on it that way."

Gomez and Morticia share a loving look, making Wednesday's nose scrunch up lightly before stepping closer to you. She hated to see her parents so... In love. The emotion itself already made her have rashes on her skin, and not the ones she enjoys.

The dinner had gone splendidly. You had heard tons of stories from when Wednesday and Pugsley were younger, how Morticia and Gomez met, and much more.

"Ah, the game," Gomez takes another bite of his food. "You know, Morticia is amazing at organizing those. One time, we tried to invite some parents over. You know, there was a whole incident with the pool and the piranhas, so we tried to make it up to them. A beautiful dinner made by Morticia, and our family tradition has always been the game."

"What is the game?" You curiously asked, your plate already empty. Morticia's cooking was truly extraordinary.

"Well, we have one called 'Full disclosure', and-"

"Okay, Father. That is enough. I am sure that Y/N can wait with hearing that."

Wednesday pushes her chair back before looking at you.

"Let us retire to the bedroom. The bright Christmas lights are giving me a migraine and it makes me want to hit my head with a hammer."

The girl already walked off without waiting for you to respond. You look from Wednesday to the rest of the table, quickly thanking them for the dinner and stories before hurrying after your friend.

Wednesday is standing at the door that leads to her bedroom. You had never seen her house before, and Wednesday was also not the person who would talk about her home all too much.

"You will be sleeping in my room. We would have given you the spare room, but Pugsley is still working on his taxidermy."

"Ah, no problem. Besides, I have had sleepovers at your dorm before."

The girl grimaces.

"Unlike those horrid happenings, there are no pink glitters and bright neon nail polish here. I would rather set myself on fire than see any of that today."

She opens the door before walking in. Your bags have been set in the middle of the room, neatly organized by size. Wow, Lurch is organized.

The room has the same elements as the dorm that Wednesday slept in at Nevermore. A typewriter, record player, her cello standing in the corner, and Thing patiently sitting on the bed.

"Thing! I haven't seen you in ages," you laugh, sitting down next to the hand. "I got you a small gift."

You rummage through your bags, trying to find the small tube of hand cream.

"A-ha!" You hold it above your head, a grin on your face. "Your favorite! It was the last one in Jericho!"

If a hand could jump, it would have. You place the small tube next to him as Thing tightly grabs onto it.

"Great," Wednesday says. "His ego is going to go through the roof. For only a hand, he sure has a lot of nerve."

"Oh, come on, Wednesday! And besides, you know that I got you a gift as well. I promised you back at Nevermore."

Wednesday knew you promised her. You had written about it in multiple letters, ones that the girl kept in a small box. She thought your letters were disgustingly sweet. It is like you sprayed your sugary-smelling perfume on each thin piece of paper. After everything went down with Crackstone, you had written to each other much more. Wednesday still hates technology, and she wants to avoid it as much as she can.

She looks you up and down, raising one eyebrow.

"Well. I might have something in return."

She didn't tell you that. You look at her before blinking once, reaching into your bag yet again. Last week it was finally finished. You don't quite know what to expect. She might hate it, but she might also not mind it. A package comes out of your bag, neatly wrapped in black wrapping paper and closed with a thick, black ribbon. Who knew that black paper was so hard to find.

You step closer to the girl, the gift in your hands and a smile on your face. Wednesday is curious, one eyebrow still raised. What could you have ever gotten her?

"It uh... It's a small set. Couldn't decide what to do," you let out a laugh. "I can always get rid of it somewhere. If you don't like it."

Wednesday takes your gift, carefully opening the ribbon before lifting the top of the box off. Inside are two smaller packages.

She opens the biggest one. Inside is a doll that seems to be split in half. Only the head is in the box, and Wednesday knows it all too much. It matches the doll from her childhood too well.

"Marie Antoinette. The one from my guillotine."

Wednesday runs her fingers over the small details of the dollface. The eyes look as lifeless as ever, the eyelids opening and closing when the head gets moved forwards or backward.

Only once was the doll mentioned to you. Wednesday remembered losing the head while trying to scare her classmates, and she never found it back. That is, until now.

"Yeah. I saw the guillotine. Wild for a 9-year-old," you laugh. "Open the next one. It's better. I hope."

Better than the first gift? Is it a real beheaded body?

The box is a bit smaller than the one that contained the doll head, though a bit heavier. In it hides a wooden plaque, neatly stained with some type of varnish. A scorpion, its tail curled and its claws seeming to be ready to clip. The small silver plate says 'Nero' in a handwritten font. It was put on there quite messily.

"I tried to take a taxidermy class. I know you really loved Nero, and I know that this isn't exactly the same, but I hope you still like it. I fucked up his legs a bit."

One of his legs was indeed a bit crooked, but Wednesday didn't care. Her eyes are fixated on the small scorpion as she almost seems to be pulled back into her childhood memories. Her silence makes you nervous. You are used to Wednesday being quiet and only using her gaze to shutting people up, but this silence is different.

She truly is at a loss for words. No one had ever been this thoughtful with gifts for the girl. Not when her cake existed out of a functioning guillotine, not when her mother had let her visit a funeral home for the first time, and not when Pugsley allowed her to bury him alive on his birthday.

"No," she nods. "It looks exactly like him."

You let out a breath that you didn't know you were holding. Thank god she liked it. Taxidermy used to freak you out, but after being surrounded by things much darker than it, you got over it quite fast.

The scorpion gets placed in an empty space on her desk, that is where Wednesday spent most of her time anyway. But, her gift for you is also there. A small, tiny box is hidden in the drawer.

Wednesday doesn't feel nervous. She never has. Though now, her dead heart seems to be beating. It feels like she will throw up, her throat feels tight and she doesn't know what to say.

"Thing, leave us."

Thing doesn't care. All he wants is to use the hand creme. He runs out with the bottle of creme in his grip as the door closes back behind him. Wednesday then turns around, the small box now in her hands before walking over to you. She sticks her arm out, staring at you before you take the box carefully.

"I feel like I now should answer your letter. In real life."

She gestures for you to open the box, and it reveals a small ring with her initial on it. It looks exactly like the necklace that she wears herself.

"My mother and father might believe in unconditional love, but I always thought it was fake. Emotions are what makes you weak, and I have tried to avoid them as long as I could," she continues. "They make you feel disgusting. I want to rip all my hair out, strand by strand. You make me want to bite off all my fingers as I get electrocuted at the same time."

You look up at her, your eyes sparkling and a smile on your face.

"This means I... like you," she mutters. "But, on one condition."

Whatever condition it is, you will take it. You had expressed your interest on Wednesday before, but she was quick to shut you off. She insisted that she was not the person you would want to be with, trying to scare you off. You respected her choice as the two of you still decided to stay befriended. But this news is the best Christmas present you might have ever received.

"Anything."

"I need time. I am not used to any type of romantic feelings. I need to figure this out on my own. Seeing my parents being so sweet with each other makes me want to stab myself until I bleed out. Just... time."

You slip the ring onto your finger. A perfect fit.

"Wednesday Addams, I would kill for you if that is what it takes."

A small smirk forms on her face.

"Now, don't excite me too much."

You stand up, admiring your ring before opening your arms to give the girl a hug. An 'oh' leaves your mouth when you realize what you did as you drop your hands, just smiling at the girl. She looks at you before sighing.

"Only. One."

A Christmas miracle. Truly.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams oneshot #wednesday addams x reader #request

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nhasablogg · 10 months

Text

Fade into view

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Steve/Eddie

Summary: Steve tries to confess to Eddie that he likes being tickled.

Words: 900

It was almost poetic, the way the sun spilled into the room that July afternoon and lit Steve up where he sat on Eddie’s bed, nearly like a spotlight. He truly did feel exposed, trying to figure out what to do with his hands, where to rest his gaze. Eddie wasn’t the worst audience - in fact he sat there patiently, kindness in his very bones - but despite how many times Steve had rehearsed this speech he still found the words stumbling over his tongue and refusing to come out right.

“I just-” He paused, swallowed, restarted. “Maybe you’ve noticed that, uh-” Inhaled, restarted. “You know this thing you do.” His only full sentence made almost no sense.

“Thing?” Eddie, bless him, did his very best to not smile, although his struggle was very visible to Steve who would love to put his attention anywhere but on his confession.

“You know.” There were many things Eddie did, Harrington. “How you- torment me?”

“With tickles?” It wasn’t necessarily a miracle that Eddie could figure it out just from that, since Steve always said he liked tormenting him after he’d reduced him to an incoherent mess. “Sure.”

“It, uh-” Made him so fucking happy he was putting himself through the torture of saying it aloud just so Eddie never took his protests seriously enough and stopped doing it? He couldn’t say that. No way.

“It what?” Eddie tilted his head at him now, curiosity laced in the way he batted his eyelashes, in the way he raised his eyebrows. “Am I doing it too much?”

“No, no.” Truth was he probably was, but Steve, being an addict, needed it even more. “I- is it hot in here or is it just me?”

Eddie reached out and grabbed the hem of Steve’s shirt, fingertips nudging his neck and making him recoil ever so slightly, but all Eddie did was pull at it. “Maybe go for a tank top. I can lend you one.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said, because he knew that if he allowed Eddie to get up and walk away he would never try to speak of this again. “I, uh. Well. You know. How you torment me?”

“Yes, we’ve established that I’m terrible for tickling you,” he said with a laugh. “I can stop.”

“No.” The word had left his mouth much too quickly for Steve to register it was even forming on his tongue.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “No?”

“Uhm.” What the fuck was he supposed to say now? “I just-”

“Do you like it or somethin’?”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat and he looked away. He could lie. He could say no. Say he simply enjoyed the intimacy of it all. Say he enjoyed laughing. But while all of it was true it missed the key part of it all: that he liked it, period. Liked the whole experience of it.

“I do.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected Eddie to do. To ask questions, to get up and leave, to call him gross. All he knew was that he didn’t expect him to let out a low laugh, reach out to gently squeeze his knee and say, “I know, I’m just messing with you.” But he did do exactly that.

“What.” Steve’s word was barely a question at this point. “You mean to tell me I’ve been sitting here trying to confess like a moron and you already knew?”

“You make me sound mean when you put it that way.” Eddie shrugged. “But yes. Of course I knew. Why do you think I keep doing it?”

“God, I hate you so much.”

“Awe, but you were just confiding in me. Of course you don’t hate me.”

“Stop grinning at me.”

“I can’t help it when you’re so endearing.” Eddie tried to pinch Steve’s cheek, but he slapped his hand away. “You don’t want me to touch you? You don’t want me to tickle your belly to pieces right this second?”

“Shut up.”

“Pin you down and make you say out loud how much you like it?”

“Oh my god, you wouldn’t.”

“Watch you blush and stutter.”

“Eddie, I swear to god.”

Eddie softened, reaching out to run his hand over Steve’s hair. “I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to. And thank you for telling me. You know I’m just messing with you.”

“You love teasing me,” Steve mumbled, leaning into the touch. “So mean.”

“I enjoy flustering you, I do admit.” He moved his hand down, cupping Steve’s cheek. “And I won’t tickle you until you ask me to.”

“Oh my god, you are mean.”

“I would call it considerate.” Eddie trailed his hand down further, fingertip moving from his throat to his chest to his ribs to his belly. “Just say when.”

Of course Steve said when, quietly, awkwardly, breathlessly, and Eddie had him pinned immediately, fingers curling over his skin and not stopping. Steve started begging for mercy out of habit, but he knew he would die if Eddie stopped now. Luckily for him Eddie must’ve realized it, for he merely used his other hand to squeeze at his thigh, over and over and over until Steve nearly bucked him off the bed. “Fuck!” he cried, and Eddie laughed as well, purring out a “Yeah?” which had Steve blushing to his roots.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

#tickling #ticklish!steve harrington #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #n writes #fade into view

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paperweight91 · 7 months

Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me Part 2

Summary: Your mission with Captain Rogers doesn’t exactly go to plan.

Warnings: Death (not major character), no others really.

A/N: this part has been reworked a couple times to get it to flow better. Please let me know what you think!!

You awoke the next morning to the buzzing of your alarm. Today was the day, your mission with Captain America. You purposely set your alarm early so you could go get a workout in before the briefing and getting ready to leave. Rolling out of bed you pulled on a pair of comfy yoga pants and a sports bra with a tank over top.

You stopped in the kitchen on the way down to the gym to grab a protein bar and some water, saying a quick “Good Morning” to Bucky before slipping out of the room. When you arrived at the gym you were surprised to see Steve and Sam running on the treadmills. You gave them a short wave then put your earbuds in to start your pre-workout stretches.

You sighed as you shifted and felt the bruises still left on your hip. How could you have done that yourself? No, not the time to think about that. Focus! You wrapped up your stretches and made your way over to the furthest treadmill from Steve and Sam. Sam raised an eyebrow at you, but said nothing.

As you programmed in your usual pre-mission run you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see Steve staring at you. He hadn’t noticed that you saw him looking at you yet. The look on his face was different from what you were used to. Not the fierce anger, or the sneering scoff. You weren’t sure what to make of it really. You shrugged it off and continued with your workout.

After showering and grabbing a quick bite to eat you met Steve in the briefing room. He was already suited up, and ready to go. You hoped this would be a quick in and out mission.

“So glad you could finally make it to the briefing,” his tone set you on edge. If anything you were early, what was he trying to do? You scoff but take a seat across from him at the table. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of arguing.

Steve ran down the mission details. It was fairly straight forward: release the hostages and grab any Intel. No kill mission, unless of course yours or the hostages lives were in danger.

You nodded along as you scanned through the tablet with the additional information. The hope was you both would be in and out before anyone even noticed you were there.

“This is a mission I would generally do on my own, but I think this will be good practice to see how you work with your teammates.” God he was such an ass!

“Right,” you replied, keeping your voice even, and trying but failing to keep the edge out. “So how do you want to split this? Or are we working through this whole thing together?”

“I think it’s best if we don’t split up unless necessary. Go suit up, we're wheels up in twenty.” You nod, surprised to find yourself agreeing with Captain “stick-up-his-butt.” Not knowing each other well enough meant splitting up was much riskier than sticking together, even if you could complete the mission quicker.

You quickly don your suit, and race to the Quinjet. Hoping to beat Steve there, if only for the satisfaction of being there first. You’re not sure who’s looking out for you today, but by some miracle you manage to make it there before Steve. You drop your duffle of supplies in the back and grab a seat. As soon as you sit you feel that slight wave of dizziness crash over you. No, no not now!

You shake your head and the feeling passes. Thankfully, it’s then that Steve climbs up the steps of the Quinjet. He nods to you before taking his seat in the cockpit.

The trip is quiet, letting you run through the information over and over in your mind. It was Steve’s voice that drew you out of your thoughts. “What are you doing?”

He was looking back at you, intrigued. At least he’s not annoyed. “Just running through all the intel, making sure I have everything memorized. I hate going into places blind.” You picked up the tablet to go over the layout of the building for the 10th time. “You suspect they’re keeping the hostages on the lowest level, right?”

Steve nodded, it looked like you were closing in on the location. He was definitely descending. “Do you have an ETA once we land?” You were nervous, and had trouble keeping the warble out of your normally confident demeanour.

Steve nodded as he guided the Quinjet closer to the ground. “It’ll likely take us thirty minutes on foot once we land. You have your supplies?” Was he being nice?

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you, going through your mental checklist of all the weapons and gadgets you were bringing with you. Nothing crazy or flashy, but enough to protect yourself and definitely enough to download any Intel you could find quickly. You ran your hands over each item you had equipped to your suit. Physically checking that everything was in its place as Steve finally landed the Quinjet.

There was enough cover that you could likely be back before anyone noticed a rogue Quinjet, but still Steve turned on Tony’s tech that made the jet near invisible unless of course you knew what you were looking for. You walked side by side with Steve as you approached what appeared to be an abandoned hospital.

Your mouth twisted as you looked over the place, “Are you sure this is the right place, Captain?” There were no vehicles or any signs of life. No smoke from an errant fire, nothing. This whole situation was starting to feel off.

Steve hummed, “Doesn’t look very promising does it?” You shook your head in response. “We’re here, let’s check it out and if there’s nothing we can regroup back in the Quinjet.”

Together you scoped out the building, and found a hidden entryway. Once inside, the mission seemed slightly more promising. Steve tapped his ear then pointed down the long hallway, indicating he could hear something you couldn’t. Damn super soldier hearing. Your pulse picked up as you realized this was likely the group that was holding the hostages. You needed to find a way to gain access to them without alerting this group to your presence.

Suddenly a thought occurred to you, the fire routes. That was going to be your easiest way to navigate any hostages out of this situation. You pointed to the map across the hall, Steve’s eyes followed and he nodded. As quietly as you both could, you entered into the fire stairwell and made your way down to the lowest level.

Upon opening the door to the hallway the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelt like that one time your mission had gone sideways in Brazil, turning your three day mission into a month long stay. When you had returned home everything in your fridge was so rotten you had been worried you would never get the smell out. Except this was worse. It was stronger, more pungent and definitely was more than some rotten food left in a fridge for a month.

Steve preceded you around the corner, his shield held high in anticipation of an enemy. Until he suddenly deflated infront of you. You walked around him to see what had changed his demeanour so quickly, and gasped at the sight in front of you. Bodies. Dead bodies. There was no telling how long they had been there. A while judging by the smell. You let out a whimper as your eyes scanned the faces. Women, men, children. They had taken all of these people from their lives, just to what, kill them?

Steve’s hand on your shoulder stopped you from moving. You had started walking towards the bodies, searching for any sign of life. You shook his hand off, and started walking forward again. It was a whisper of your name off Steve’s lips that stopped you in your tracks.

“It’s too late, they’re gone.” He said, voice wavering on the last syllable.

A choked sob left your mouth before you could stop it. The knowledge that you were too late, too much for you to bear. You raised your hand in front of your mouth. The sight in front of you triggering a memory, or is it a dream?

Before you can react any further Steve starts pulling you away. “C’mon,” me mumbles, “let’s get the intel and get out of here.” You stumble as he pulls you, still caught between the sight in front of you and the distant memory pulling at the edges of your brain. You fall into him and he holds you close. “I’m sorry,” you murmur into his chest, knowing he’ll still hear you. “I don’t know why it’s so bad this time, can I-could I have just a minute to…” you trail off, not quite sure what you’re asking for.

You feel Steve nod his head as he holds you close. This isn’t a position you ever expected to find yourself in. Showing Steve this vulnerability, but there was no way you could continue this mission without getting your head back in the game. His large paw-like hands ran up and down your arms in a soothing gesture, it was then you realized your heart was racing and you were crying. He guided you both back to the stairwell, away from the sight and horrific smell.

“Feeling better?” His voice was a murmur into the top of your head. You nodded, and shyly looked up at him. “I’m sorry Captain, I don’t, I’ve never been this emotional on a mission before. I-I promise it won’t happen again.” You can barely look him in the eye as you take a step back, and decide to focus instead on the chin strap for his helmet.

Steve opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a wave of dizziness unlike anything before hit you. You felt like your skin was burning and your head spun until you couldn’t tell up from down. “S-Steve…help…I’m…”

It was all you could get out before passing out, feeling the warmth of strong arms briefly before the world went black.

You felt your skin start burning again as you came too. This time from cold. Except for how you normally woke up here in the clothes you had begged, borrowed and stolen, you were still in your stealth suit. Not only that you felt the strong arms of Steve Rogers wrapped around you holding you tight.

Before you can untangle yourself you see the flurry of movement up ahead. Curtis. You jump to your feat Steve doing the same. He looked around confused, then stared at you shocked.

“Sweetheart,” Curtis looked like he had seen a ghost when he saw you. “How? Where? What’s going on?” You’d never seen him so flustered. But you were also confused, what was he talking about?

“I think I have the same questions as you. Captain Rogers.” He held out his hand for Curtis to shake. Curtis looked at him like he had the plague before begrudgingly shaking his hand. “Is there somewhere private we can talk here?”

Curtis nodded and lead you both back to where he and Gilliam would plan the rebellion. There wasn’t much privacy in the tail, and this was the closest you ever really got.

You sat atop an overturned crate shakily as Steve stood beside you. His arms were crossed and as you looked up at him you could see his no nonsense Captain America face was on. You hugged yourself trying to figure out where to start.

“Start from the beginning.” Curtis’ voice shocked you. You must have said that out loud.

“I-I don’t know what’s going on. Ever since I was a kid I remember dreaming of this place. It wasn’t every night, but most nights…I always hated this dream.” You looked straight at Curtis. His face was always easy to read. For a man who said so little you could always tell the emotions right from his face. He looked confused, and a little hurt if you were honest with yourself.

Although you spoke to Curtis it was Steve who responded to you, he said your name barely above whisper, “I don’t think this is a dream, maybe it never was…” he trailed off as he looked around. Turning his attention to Curtis he spoke next, “where are we?”

“This is Snowpiercer, a train built to house the remnants of humanity after the planet became too cold to be habitable. I’ve been here for 19 years. I wasn’t able to afford a ticket at the time, none of us in the tail were.” Curtis still looked confused as he turned his attention to you. “I remember when we boarded you were there. Alone. You seemed so small, and scared that day, like you had no idea what was going on…you didn’t did you?”

You nodded as you took in a steadying breath. You remembered it vividly, the first time you dreamt of the train. You had come home from school to find the house empty, your parents still at work. You had done some homework and made yourself a snack before finding yourself asleep in bed before they even got home.

You remembered the biting frost of the air. The people begging to be let on the train. The dizziness that surrounded you as you stood on the platform, looking around helplessly. You remembered a young man, a few years older than you, making sure you got on the train with a flash of blue eyes.

“None of it was a dream?” Your voice shakes, along with your shoulders. Your head starts to pound as all the memories of both your lives rush through you all at once.

The pile of bodies on the mission, it was so similar to before you had the protein blocks. People just started dieing from hunger. No way to help, nothing you could do, but just wait until they removed the bodies.

“No sweetheart.” Curtis sinks in front of you to wrap himself around you. “I was so scared one minute you were right there in front of me. In my arms. And the next, you were just gone, like you had never been here in the first place. That was days ago. No one has seen you since.”

You sob into his shoulder. It’s too much. You look up to see Steve standing behind Curtis now. His Captain America facade is gone, and his face showing more concern then you’ve ever seen him direct towards you before.

“You didn’t know this was happening? The SHIELD screening didn’t pick up on it?” You shake your head no to both of his questions trying to gather yourself. You cling to Curtis, your safety in the tail. Here you always felt weak, not like in the Avengers compound. Home. A tiny voice whispers in your head.

Steve nods once before starting to pace, “we have to figure out a way out of here. These people, they look like they’re malnourished, and freezing we have to get them to safety.”

Curtis snorts and stands to his full height. He stands equal to Steve in height and build. You never noticed before, but they are almost carbon copies, besides Curtis’ dark hair and beard. They could almost be the same person.

“And how do you expect to do that? There’s nowhere to go outside of the train. We’ll all freeze to death the moment the doors open. Not to mention, the disabled and the children. The only way to ‘save us’ is to help us rebel against the front. To take the train.” Curtis gestures around as he speaks to show the state of the tail.

You nod then stop. “Wait if this is real, and I brought us here,” you gesture between yourself and Steve, “couldn’t I just bring everyone else back?” You stumble as you get to your feet feeling the gnawing hunger in your stomach. The dizziness you always felt here is a constant buzz behind your eyes.

Curtis immediately pulls you close with an arm around your waist. “Careful Sweetness, can’t have you hurting yourself.” He murmured into your crown.

“Before we do anything I need to have a look at you.” Steve pointedly looked at you, and you nodded. How do you explain everything here? How you always felt unwell here. “Can you give us a minute?” He asked Curtis.

Curtis hesitated looking at you first, before nodding and leaving you and Steve, closing the curtain behind him. Steve stood before you his hands on his hips. He was scowling at the floor trying to put his thoughts together. You swayed on your feet again, but there was no Curtis here to catch you now. Steve quickly lowered both of you to the floor pulling you close to him.

“I need you to tell me everything, I’m blind here. And you look like you are getting sicker and sicker by the second. Is it always like this?” You had already been vulnerable with Steve once today, might as well spill everything you knew about the tail and yourself here.

“I’m weak here, vulnerable,” you started shakily, the dizziness was coming in waves. It felt like they were crushing you every time you got a gasp of fresh air. “Curtis has always protected me. I always thought it was my brains way of letting me be vulnerable, you know? Like a coping mechanism for what we do. A place where someone looked after me, rather than…” you trailed off as visions of the corpses you saw with Steve floated into your mind.

Steve didn’t say anything, simply rubbing your arm and nodding. He urged you to continue with a small smile, “I don’t know much, but we have nothing here, very little food and no exposure to the rest of the train. Curtis and Gilliam have been planning, I don’t know exactly what, but it’s going to be big. A rebellion. They have a plan, a way for us to take the train and reclaim some of our dignity if nothing else.”

Steve hummed as he processed your words. Before he could respond Curtis was pulling the curtain behind you open. “You two should try and sleep, they're going to be coming by with protein block rations soon. I’ll make sure you both get some.”

You smiled up at Curtis and he offered you his hand to pull you to your feet. You let him pull you into his chest, and you nuzzled into him. Although you only had rationed showers in the tail, Curtis’ scent had always meant safety, and you gulped down his scent like you would never smell it again.

He walked you and Steve over to your cubby. Steve watched as Curtis gingerly helped you into the cubby, then leaned in to kiss your forehead. There was a dusting of pink on his cheeks when he pulled back enough to allow Steve to climb in behind you. He made sure to leave his shield on his back, in case of any more unexpected departures.

Surprisingly Steve cuddled himself up to your back. An arm thrown around your waist and his face buried in the back of your neck. “I hate the cold,” he whispered. It was so quiet you weren’t sure you even heard him correctly. “How can you stand it here?”

You snorted a short laugh, “I mean normally I’m wearing way more than just a stealth suit…” you trailed off. Steve had never been this open with you. This whole day, it was like you had been with a totally different person, more like Curtis. Not to mention this was the most physical contact you had had in, god how long had it been?

“So are you and Curtis…?” Steve let his question trail off. You felt heat raise in your face at his words. What were you and Curtis?

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know he was real until twenty minutes ago, I thought he was figment of my imagination. He’s - he’s a good man, and a strong leader. He wants to protect us all.” You knew that didn’t really answer Steve’s question but you also didn’t have an answer. None of this was supposed to be real!

Steve simply nodded and tucked himself as close he could. You could feel him shivering from the cold of the tail section. The guilt began then. It was your fault Steve was here, your fault he was likely reliving a terrible moment, the moment he thought he was going to die. You slowly turned yourself over so you were facing him. Steve only looked at you curiously, not sure what you were doing. You reached for him and he let you pull him close offering your warmth and comfort as best you could.

It was then you felt the crash of dizziness, much like it had hit you at the hospital. “Steve…ugh I think…” your vision was narrowing, but you made sure to keep a firm grasp on him. Not willing to leave Steve behind in what would likely be his worst nightmare. Before the blackness took you over completely you felt him grip you tightly.

And then nothing.

#dream a little dream of me #chris evans #steve rogers #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert

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