#atom the beginning spoilers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

popquizhot-shot · 9 months

Text

Father Mine- 3

ok so this is where canon goes out the window, ive made my own universe, this might be blasphemy against marvel comics but i dont know. Honestly i made this up as i kept going and i like how this chapter ended<3 tell me how you like it! if you want a spoiler go to the tags and see what i've tagged :) part 1

You must have passed out because you wake up in someone’s living room.

“Anyone home?” You dare to call out. The apartment is sort of open-plan and if you had the energy to turn around and move you would have been able to see the man in the white suit staring at you.

“Yep. Hello!” The man walks up to you and you flinch at his strong southern london accent and glaring white suit that makes him look like a psycho Colonel Sanders, “I hope you’re alright, Khonshu said you were from another dimension?”

You reluctantly reply, “That’s right? And by Khonshu do you mean the actual Egyptian God?”

He nods excitedly, “Yea! Right twit he is!”

You look at him worriedly, maybe he is psycho colonel sanders after all.

He looks at himself in the mirror and does a double take, “Oh bollocks! No wonder you look scared!” The suit disappears to reveal a man with wild curls in an oversize t-shirt and pajamas, “sorry, sometimes I forget I still have it on.” He smiles nervously, “Um I’m Steven. With a V.”

That causes you to smile a little, maybe he’s not so bad, “Hello Steven.” You wave from your position on the couch and tell him your name.

Behind him you see a bony pigeon looking skeleton appear and your eyes widen, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” You point at it and scream.

Steven turns around, “That’s Khonshu, you can see him?”

“NO SHIT!” You web a wall and pull yourself up to stick to it, glaring at the offending creature.

“That’s mental.” He exclaims.

“What universe is this?” You ask him, eyes narrowed underneath your mask.

“Well, there’s no particular name for it.” Steven begins, but Khonshu intervenes, “How is it that you were able to traverse through the inter dimensional planes?”

“I knew someone who could.”

Suddenly Stevens demeanour changes and your spider sense tingles, you ready your webs against the potential threat.

The voice that comes out of Stevens mouth is not his. It’s the sound of the man who threw you here.

“Kid?” He says when you freeze and take your mask off, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You’re-You’re not Steven.” Your voice breaks at the familiar lilt.

He shakes his head, “My name is Marc.”

———————————-

“Miguel! Stop it!” Jess finally snaps and the man looks up at her.

She takes a hold of his hair and uses it to maneuver his face to look at him, “You either go and get her back, or you fucking move on. Because in this state there is no way you will be able to do anything. Get your shit together. ”

He gulps, not used to seeing her angry side often and nods.

“She thinks I’m a monster.” He looks down at his toes and breathes shakily.

“Then prove to her that you’re not. You’re her father, regardless of what she says, she still loves you. You need to apologize to her.” She looks at him pointedly and he sighs.

"What do you want me to say, 'Hey honey, I know what I did was wrong, I was wrong to chase a teenager and I was too blinded by my fear of losing my daughter again that I chased you away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' Thats not going to be good enough."

"It's a start."

"Jessica." he looks up

"What?"

"I should have told you, something about her."

"What?"

"She's not a normal variant, even if her universe was destroyed. That fact alone makes her a special case. There's a reason I sent her to Earth 19999. Her atoms and dna will not glitch there. And I don't know why."

"Why didn't you send her there before?"

"It was too dangerous."

"As opposed to Earth 1999999?" Jess raises an eyebrow.

"Very similar universes, but everything is flipped."

The woman tilts her head, "What do you mean?"

————-

You sip on the hot tea Steven had made for you, glaring at the bony god sitting opposite you.

“I cannot send you back, child.” He says and you roll your eyes,

“As if I didn’t know that. The tea’s lovely, thank you.” You smile at Steven who beams at you. He’s much nicer than the American man living inside him. The one who was Miguel in this universe.

“Marc?”

He nods, “I happen to know of someone who can help you.”

You tilt your head, “Go on.”

He went to explain how he was on call as an Avenger, who were considered the world’s mightiest heroes, and how he was acquainted with someone known as Dr Strange.

As soon as he says, the name Strange, your mind considers the possibility that you might be in the universe of idiots, as Miguel calls it. Earth-1999999.

He’s spent whole hours explaining the entire storyline that honestly came out of a movie to you and while it was such, really Captain America you ditched your best friend to go be with someone who had already moved on? You were drawn to the universe.

It reminded you very much of your home universe that was destroyed.

When you’d nodded and said you’d be on your way he’d blocked you from leaving. Saying it was too dangerous and that you were being an irresponsible person.

You tried to reason with him but he was able to block your punches with efficiency, and he reached for your web slingers. The ones Miguel had given you.

That was currently why there was a purple bruise on Stevens’s cheek that you felt bad about. This sweet man didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of a hard punch. So you had helped him around the kitchen and he made you tea as a way of saying thank you.

“If you can’t take me away, you can atleast lead me to Strange, considering your own Knight isn’t letting me leave.”

“For good reason.”

“But it doesn’t make sense, without the watch I would be glitching every three seconds because the universe would not accept my genes. Here I haven’t glitched a single time.”

The god tilts his head and seems to contemplate your words, mimicking the man who looks at you with his head tilted, “Most interesting.”

Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as orange sparks began to appear out of thin air, forming a circle and then a portal out of which a man with a weird beard walks through. He nods at Steven and walks over to you, “So you’re the one huh?”

“No, your mom is.” You snarl, “Yes. Doctor Strange, I’ve heard of you.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “Am I a common topic of conversation in the multiverse?”

“When we have to make fun of something yes.” You grin.

He rolls his eyes, “How did you arrive here?”

“Look I'd leave if I could, sir. But my device was taken away by the jerk who sent me here.”

His eyes narrow, “Sent you?”

Shit, you might have said the wrong thing.

------------------

"So you're not from here." The sorcerer supreme raises his eyebrow at you.

"No, sir." you're shocked at your politeness, but the man demands respect.

"And you cannot go back?"

"No."

"There is only one person now, who is capable of autonomous multiverse travel, America Chavez. And even her powers are not perfect. It is too risky to do this."

"What would you have me do then?" you ask.

"Wait here, there must be a reason you are not glitching. Maybe, you were meant to be sent here." Strange reasons.

His words make sense, honestly, maybe this universe would be your new home. Even back in Nueva York, you had to wear the watch at all times, or you'd be glitching.

But did Miguel know that? Because if he didn't know, then that would mean he'd sent you to your death.

You just nod at what Strange says, his words going in one year and out the other. You miss the way his eyes glint and flash. His shadow moving under him.

"She can stay with us at the tower." Steven puts his hand on your shoulder, looking directly at Strange, no smile on his face. After a few moments, the Doctor nods.

Your spider sense starts to tingle, and you glace at Steven, who only smiles at you. All teeth. Eyes that are blank. Devoid of emotion.

Now that you're here to stay, he looks like he's never been happier.

"You're going to enjoy yourself here, love." he pats your shoulder, "We'll all have a bit of fun."

You need to run.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #marc spector #atsv miguel #father mine #mini miguel<33 #mandela catalogue #atsv

507 notes · View notes

alienaiver · 5 months

Text

Proposals Plus One

Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers and references to Godzilla Minus One, it is gender neutral but you are being proposed to ! <3 also iwa gives oikawa the finger if thats not ur thing wordcount: 2.4k content: FLUFF, proposals, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly and body positive reader, Childhood friends to lovers trope, SFW, No use of y/n, canon compliant, post-timeskip, one-shot, established relationship, use of honorifics (iwa-chan is the only one, by oikawa of course), this was supposed to be a drabble hi, also oikawa appears at 5ish am in argentina, i salute him for his dedicated friendship

notes: when i describe iwaizumi watching the movie i basically just described myself LMFAO!!! anyways.. i wanted this to be a let-iwaizumi-experience-my-favorite-movie but it turned into... this! i hope u enjoy heheh <:) <33 PLEASE enjoy my title pun as a reference to Godzilla Minus One!!!!!

Iwaizumi’s hands are not still for more than a few seconds at a time during the little more than two hours you spend in the cinema. They shift between grasping onto his soda or taking the popcorn from you – only to put them back onto your lap, or grasp onto your hand like his life depends on it. Especially during the big, cinematic scenes. When Godzilla starts to charge the atomic beam attack, you hear him take a sharp intake and lean into you, like he really can’t contain his own mortal vessel.

It’s really cute.

You’re glad he brought you along with him, even if you’d been hesitant to begin with.

“Oikawa always goes with you,” you tried to argue, “I don’t want to take his spot.”

Iwaizumi had lowered his gaze and tried to hide his expression when he admitted that Oikawa wouldn’t be in Japan for the release. You genuinely thought he would, so you couldn’t hide the surprise at the admission. “So… you’re not imposing yourself.” he’d grunted afterwards and got up from the dining table, “but you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Whenever there’s a big action scene, like when Noriko falls from the open and destroyed train free-fall into a pool of water or when Godzilla destroys the cinema, he leans forward in his seat before he looks at you and even through a dim cinema with lights only emitting from the screen, you can see the stars reflecting in his eyes, his mouth open in a smile you don’t see often on him. Like he can’t really believe what he’s seeing, and he’s checking with you to confirm it.

When the credits starts rolling and people start to leave, your boyfriend puts his palms on his temples as he uses a moment to process what he’s just seen. Then, very slowly like he’s edited into slow-motion he turns towards you. His eyes are wide and his mouth slack, but the more you get into view, the more the corners of his lips tugs upwards.

You laugh and grip his upper arm, squeeze it lightly, “was it everything you needed the 70th anniversary to be?”

The look he gives you is perplexed; almost like he can’t believe that you’re asking him that. He drags his hands down his face, dragging the skin with him and making a grimace, “what’s the time?” he then suddenly ask, real time seemingly catching up to his body as he hurries to check his watch.

“It’ll roll again at 6! That’s in 45 minutes! We can grab a quick bite and then”- he interrupts himself with a cough before he reminds himself and tenses his shoulders -”sorry, we have a reservation.”

You take him in for a minute, your underlip worried between your teeth as you weigh your options. The reservation isn’t important in and of itself; it’s just a small Yakiniku place that ended up being close to the cinema and you’re full from the popcorn and candy anyways.

You hum, dramatically as you pretend to be an actor for the effect. Iwaizumi’s already on his phone, checking the Google Maps route to the restaurant. You fish out your own phone and go to the cinema’s website to buy two new tickets. During the booking you see it’ll be shown in another of their screens, which only makes you smile mischievously.

When the booking’s confirmed, you start to get up with a sigh, “let’s talk about the movie at the restaurant, yeah?” you try to keep yourself neutral as to not give away your plan. Iwaizumi smiles and puts his arms through the sleeves of his light jean jacket. The summer heat is peaking, so he’d only worn it to have pockets.

You grab onto his hand and squeeze it as he gets up next to you, “thank you for coming with me, it means a lot.”

You kiss his him chaste on the lips before you start to drag him out. After you’ve both been by the bathroom, you pass by the snacks and tug at him, “can we go back in real quick? I really regretted not buying that chocolate bar when we browsed before the movie… please?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at you but smiles widely and follows you, his other hand already searching his pocket for his wallet.

You grab two different chocolate bars, one you know that he likes and your own favorite. Then you go to the soda aisle and pretend to think it through deeply. Iwaizumi’s eyebrow perks up at your behavior, “what do you need soda for? The restaurant will have drinks. If you want something specific we can pick it up on the way home.”

You shake your head and tighten your lips into a frown, “yeah but look! They have this fun variant of melon soda. Don’t you want to taste?” you point to the small sign next to it, “it’s cinema exclusive.”

Iwaizumi is never really able to say no to you, but he is perplexed about the behavior you’re exhibiting. You bite your lip as you give him a pleading look, fearing your luck’s running out. The puppy eyes makes him shake his head and grab two cups to fill. You kiss his cheek with a laugh.

With renewed drinks and snacks (minus the popcorn, you can still feel the kernels stuck to your teeth) you go to sit down by one of their benches, pretending to tie your laces. Iwaizumi sees that your laces aren’t untied, but he stays quiet.

When you sit back up with a satisfied grunt, you grab your phone from your purse and find the tickets, “look babe! We’re in the middle row seats!”

He squints to look properly at what you’re showing him, his nose crinkling in a way you think is adorable. You wish you’d had a second phone to secretly record this reaction. There’s nothing like it. Warmth and blood rises to his face and makes his ears bright red as his eyes widen, mouth hanging slack.

“What did you- how… when did you?” he asks, clutching at his hair with his free hand. You laugh, proud to see him with revived excitement, “I booked them right after. We’re going to have so many snacks that dinner can be a little later… I’d rather experience that with you than that restaurant!”

Iwaizumi pulls back from you a little with a laugh as he drags his hand over his mouth, suddenly looking unsure of himself. You tilt your head to the side. He says, “but that restaurant’s really… uh… special.” You sigh and reach out for his hand, “yeah but you’re more special to me. We can always go some other time, right?”

You’re suddenly afraid he doesn’t want to watch it again, that it was just the adrenaline of excitement making him say it back when the credits where rolling. He mutters unintelligible words under his breath before he mumbles an announcement, “well now’s a good as time as any.”

He then looks at you, the blush returning as he puts the drinks and snacks down next to yours on the bench, “I uh- I need to call Shittykawa real quick.”

Your eyebrow quirks up at that, but you nod. Maybe he wants to tell him about the movie before you watch it again; this used to be their thing growing up after all.

You sit back down on the bench and take out your phone, scrolling through social media as you wait for him to make his call. You’re surprised when the sound of a FaceTime call starts ringing through the air and Iwaizumi looks annoyed. It’s not an uncommon expression on him, so you’re not sure you’re able to decipher the meaning behind it right now.

“Iwa-chan? That’s early! Doesn’t it take 10 minutes to the restaurant?” Oikawa gasps on the other end, “no way, did you get cold feet!? Iwa-chan!!” he suddenly scolds and Iwaizumi grunts out a shut up and you assume point the camera towards you because Oikawa’s voice greets you, strained and perfectly polite. It’s eerily unnatural when acted towards you and not a fan. Confused, you just wave at him and Oikawa gasps again. “In the cinema? That wasn’t the plan at all! Did you already do it?” he continues on, and you make a grimace to Iwaizumi. What the hell is he talking about?

Iwaizumi snaps at Oikawa and hurriedly moves out of earshot from you, mumbling into the phone. Then he comes back with his back straightened´up and stiff, legs seemingly wobbly under his weight. He puts his phone with Oikawa on the call up against the plant next to you, pointing it towards you. You can see Oikawa lying on his stomach on a bed, eye masks on and no light except for the screen – Argentina’s far behind Japan after all. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he’s jogged back in front of you and practically falls to his knee in front of you, wincing from the pain of landing unexpectedly hard.

You think you’re catching on.

Your breath catches in your throat as you keep your eyes locked onto the man in front of you, suddenly fearing he’ll disappear into thin air and that this is just a dream.

Iwaizumi clears his throat and opens his mouth to start talking before he catches himself and hastily goes through his pockets. He pats the chest pocket an extra time before his nimble fingers slide inside and come out with a blue velvet box. Your hands go to cover your mouth, because it’s the same color as Aoba Johsai’s turquoise.

“Why’d you choose Seijoh?” an angry-looking 15-year-old from your new class asked you during the rounds where you’re supposed to get to know each other. With a strained smile you admit sheepishly, “I loved the colors of the school’s volley uniform.”

When he sees your expression he laughs, “I planned to do this at the restaurant – but you willingly choosing to go to the cinema to watch my … uh, my thing, not once but twice. And in a day no less, well…” he clears his throat and looks away, “it kinda knocked me off my feet. I’ve known for a long time this was going to happen but… when you showed me your phone with that excited expression that I love? It’s like… well, it was like the entire universe conspired to confirm that it has to be you… you know?”

He shakes his head and apologizes for sounding so cheesy before he drags a hand through his spikes. When he looks directly into your eyes after gathering himself, you straighten your back and start nodding. He hasn’t even asked you yet but your legs are shaking with the intense feeling of your response.

He laughs when he sees you nod. The raspy and relaxed one, reserved for you. You stare at each other for a time, admiring each other’s eyes and being in this moment, this time in life carved for the two of you. Then he shakes his head and starts to open his mouth. It must take too long though, because your shared childhood menace of a best friend starts booing. You both look to him and Iwaizumi has a scolding ready on his tongue until he sees the fat tears shining on his screen, Oikawa’s nose red and wrinkled.

Iwaizumi decides to simply give him the middle finger before he turns back to you. He says your name with an embarrassed lilt to his tone and finally, at last, formally asks you;

“Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

You laugh, unabashed and excited. In your bewilderment you shake your head in disbelief and the raw fear in Iwaizumi’s eyes makes you flinch and yell out a too loud “yes!” to make sure that you were merely reacting to the overwhelming situation in front of you.

People in the cinema are looking, silently clapping and smiling at you both but generally keeping a polite distance. You sniffle and lean towards Iwaizumi, foregoing the ring to fall into his arms. It takes him a moment to process before his arms wraps around you too, pulling you into him so tightly, shaky breaths leaving him as he keeps pawing at your back, your hair, your neck. Like he can’t really believe this is happening, either. You repeat the word “yes” like a prayer, your heart thrumming at intervals you’ve never tried before.

You pull back and wipe a tear from Iwaizumi’s cheek, “you better calm down before we watch it again, huh?”

Oikawa clears his throat from the phone, “the ring, Iwa-chan! The ring!”

Iwaizumi gathers himself and rather forcefully grabs onto your hand before apologizing, letting his finger caress your knuckles in apology. You let him, and he fumbles to get the ring out. It’s a simple one, so very like him. Oikawa chimes in with your exact thought, “he was so panicky at the jeweler! You should’ve seen him!”

You wish you had. Flustered Iwaizumi is your favorite flavor, but seeing him with shaky fingers fitting the ring onto your finger, warms you more than anything else.

You perk up, “is your war finished?” you ask and Iwaizumi’s eyebrow rise for a second before he hears the reference to the movie you just watched and beams, eyes glowing with an excitement you didn’t think could be topped moments before. He leans forward and says yes before he kisses you.

Oikawa cheers and you hurry to pick up his phone and show Oikawa the ring in detail, “you could’ve warned me!” you scold him and he shrugs, “eh, I honestly thought you already knew. And don’t worry, I took plenty of screenshots for your families and friends. There’s even a pretty romantic shot of you hurling yourself into his arms.”

You gasp in feigned insult, “I did not hurl myself!”

Iwaizumi stands before you with his hands in his pockets, a bright smile, “you did kinda hurl yourself.”

“Shut up! Both of you! I’m not taking you into the movie with me! I’m canceling your ticket!”

Iwaizumi pretends to panic but leans down to rest his forehead against you, “you can hurl yourself at me for the rest of my life, I don’t mind. Don’t listen to Shittykawa.”

You shake your head at your two friends.

No, your friend and your fiance. It feels surreal. You wonder how long it’ll take you to get used to. You can’t wait to spend the time finding out.

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi hajime x you #nohr.writing #nohr.hq #I HOPE U LIKE IT MY BBIES!!!!! i giggled and smiled thru the entIRE THING i swear!!!!!!!!!!!#i want him to propose to me too......... also i kept the ring details simple bcos i dont.. uh #idk how they look like JDHSAJKFHDSJKHFDKASJEWHFDCUSIEFHEUSIHFESI #TELL ME UR ARO WITHOUT TELLING ME UR ARO RIGHT (CLOWN EMOJI)#i couldve googled but its almost 1am...... and im sneepy

146 notes · View notes

oliviajdjarin · 1 year

Text

Joel Miller: Stripped to the Bone

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (afab; she/her)

Excerpt: He tucked a hand into your hair and pulled you close, massaging your scalp. You exhaled in relief and breathed him in, not for the last time. He then lifted your head to look up at him and pulled your face closer, and closer, and closer.

“I dreamed of you,” he whispered, “all the time.”

Warnings: ANGSTTTT, TLOU 1 spoiler (ish), heavy description of blood loss, injury, impalement, and all that fun stuff. Reader has a breakdown and also kills people, with some kissing at the end.

A/N: I could tell you how many times I have used this exact case scenario to fall asleep over the last two years...but I won’t. Happy Last of Us HBO show days. I hope you enjoy some Joel.

If you’d like to leave a like, reblog, ask, or comment, it would be really appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

For as long as you had known the greying, brick wall that was Joel Miller, he had always been almost...impenetrable to pain. You always wondered if it was because he seemed to constantly be gritting his teeth and bearing some steady kind pain, like a heartbeat or twitching muscle. He always seemed ready for it, thus allowing him not to be one for any sort of reactions when he did take damage.

You had gotten used to it, too used to it, because the howl he released when he hit the floor of that disgusting University told you one thing--he had finally, finally, found something worse than his constant beat.

You only stopped shooting the culprit when your ammunition finally ran out. Seven rounds. You didn’t blink once.

“Y/N,” Ellie yelled, her small voice echoing around the vacant building. She had gotten to him first. You immediately broke into a sprint, practically leaping off the same ledge Joel had fallen off of, and you finally reached him.

It was bad. Really, really bad.

The rebars were poking from his stomach like a tree from the ground, his blood spread on the floor from his back all the way to your boots, and his body was already beginning to go static.

“Holy fuck,” you said, and knelt down beside him. “Joel, can you hear me?”

He coughed and choked out a faint “yes”, and you placed your hand on his arm to calm him, already forming droplets in your eyes as the panic and shock set in.

You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not now. Not after everything.

“What do you want me to do?” Ellie asked, but both you and Joel heard the steps of the hunters behind her.

“Move,” you said simultaneously.

“What?”

“Move,” you both said fiercely, and Joel pushed her body out of the way right as the hunters forced their way in. The both of you took them down with your bullets within a number of seconds. Their bodies littered the floor.

Not an atom in you cared. The infamous, heartless woman you had become was in full force.

You took a deep breath, calming your brain, and turned back to him, focused on the fact that yes, his chest was still moving in a steady rhythm. Up, down, up, down. It was up to you to keep it moving. The universe wasn’t going to take him away from you. You’d grip him until he ripped himself in half.

“Alright Joel,” you whispered, sniffling. That new flick of rage lit you back on fire. “We’ve gotta get you up.”

He nodded, the brown of his eyes already beginning to fade, and wrapped his hand around Ellie’s wrist. You went around and supported his back, grateful for any press of him you could get. Just like you always had been.

“Ellie,” Joel croaked, “I’m gonna need you to pull.”

“Pull, alright,” Ellie gripped his hand in hers, “I can do that. Okay, one.--”

Joel gripped her hand tighter.

“--two--”

You rubbed his back just so.

“--three.”

You pressed the faintest kiss to the back of Joel’s neck--right on the mole you had always been desperate to press to your mouth when he wasn’t looking--and lifted him from the floor.

His scream echoed through the University once again as he yelled “pull,” still somehow managing to keep control of his body. The rebar made a quick shing as it exited his body, and with one final tug from Ellie, he was free, effectively spraying blood all over the floor and your face.

You couldn’t feel your face anyway.

“Alright,” he said, gathering his breath, and started making his way forward. He walked like an infected-- crouched, slow, holding his middle. You immediately slid beside him, asking him permission with your eyes, and he scoffed.

That was Joel talk for “go on.”

You looped his left arm over your shoulder, immediately drenching your back in his sticky blood. When the warmth of it hit you, as well as its metallic smell, your vision blurred with tears of pure frustration and agony, and that’s when your memory began to blur.

You could barely remember making your way through the University, effectively mowing down hunters as you went, or making it back to Callus, or helping Joel mount him only for him to tip, landing hard on his bad side, and you remembered nothing from the horse ride back. Your recognition was only the burning in your throat, the panic in Ellie’s voice, and the stickiness of his blood still dripping down your face.

~*~

Ellie had been gone a long time, enough time for you to sit in the cabin and just...think. Think about the what ifs, the almosts, and how fucking rock bottom you were.

The only thing keeping you going was Joel’s pulse under the skin of your fingers.

The season had changed dramatically, changing from a decent fall to a gnarly winter, and the three of you had found a semi-livable arrangement. One of you would stay home and watch Joel for the day, while the other went out and hunted, simple as that. You tended to prefer the hunt. Your brain never really did well with “downtime.” Especially with the man you loved slowly bleeding to death beside you.

Today was Ellie’s day to hunt, meaning the rope of tension you felt curled in your stomach whenever you and Joel were in a room together tightened for at least five hours, and you were exhausted. Exhausted with worrying about Ellie, worrying about Joel, and worrying that, with everything that the two of you had been through even before Ellie was in the picture, you were still too chickenshit to tell Joel the truth.

You wrapped your blankets around you tighter than they were before, blowing into your frigid hands as you did, and just looked at him. That was the sole advantage of this arrangement, no more sly glances at the back of his head or quick double-takes when the sun hit his eyes just right. You got a chance to study him and commit every part of him to memory--every mole, every wrinkle, every scar. They were yours now.

With the way he was positioned—laying on the floor, eyes closed in a constant daze of pain and sleep—he was so real, so vulnerable. For a man who had only shown glimpses of vulnerability and weakness to you, he might as well have been stripped to the bone.

The best was when he dreamed, mumbling gibberish and cursive under his breath, because at least his brain was still functioning. At least he could still feel fear or exhaustion or cold, rather than nothing at all.

And, God forbid he mumble your name, because you would be effectively distracted for the entire rest of the day.

You sighed, rubbing your fingers against your temples, and watched his chest. He was still alive, still living to see another day.

But what about tomorrow?

For once, in that moment, you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole while staring at him underneath all those blankets. The thoughts of what you would do without him coated your mind like a black paint, drenching all the good times you had with black. The day you met him, stranded in a river that he, by either fate or chance, was walking by that day. He pulled you out and immediately stuck a knife to your throat, grilling you through your chattering teeth. He still could not give a reason why he brought you in.

When the two of you first started taking jobs, usually covered in somebody’s blood when it was all said and done, and you would take turns using the shower. You would only manage to steal quick glances at his naked back when he exited, and you cemented them in your brain, storing them only for you to take to your grave and dream about in the afterlife.

When once, in the hottest month of a Boston summer, a hunter got you good, nicking the side of your neck just right to make it bleed, and bleed, and bleed. You had to press cloth against it for hours to stop the bleeding, and the mix of the loss of blood with the feeling of your own pulse against your hand successfully blurring your vision and passing you out. You woke to the press of cloth on your neck once again, but this time your back was against something…solid, as well as warm puffs of air against your ear.

“She wakes,” Joel said teasingly, country accent thick as ever.

You groaned at your pounding head. “What happened?”

“You scared the living shit out of me, that’s what happened,” Joel said, bringing you in closer—making his mouth that much closer to your earlobe—and wiping at the wound on your neck. “Never pull that shit again.”

He held you like that for the rest of the evening. Neither of you spoke a word. And now, your places have switched.

You didn’t notice when tears started streaming down your cheeks, but they hit the floor heavily and small sounds of your sobs echoed around the cabin.

You scooted closer to Joel laying on the ground and pressed your hand delicately against his wound—just like he did you—and held your face close to his.

“You’ve gotta get up from this one Joel. Ellie needs you, I—”

You swallowed.

“I need you. And I—I’m so fucking stupid. It’s my fault you’re here, I could have gotten the guy if I’d just moved faster, and it’s my fault that I’m losing my fucking mind with you like this.”

His wound was hot, healing, his heart was still beating, but he was only getting worse. You weren’t that delusional, and the weeks of it eating you up inside had led to this.

Would you ever see the expanse of his shoulders again? Feel him follow you as you led the way? Look at you in awe as you did what you did best: destroy? Would you ever get to hear him sing, watch him dance, touch his skin, or fall deep into a life of domesticity with him that you had always wanted? You didn’t know if he would ever be able to do that, hell you weren’t sure if you could either, but he couldn’t try if he was rotting six feet in the ground.

You had known him for years, and yet you didn’t at all, and maybe now, you never would.

“God Joel,” you whispered as you cried, bowing your head near his chin, “Please don’t leave me here.”

You let yourself cry in what had to have been the first time in months, and you allowed your tears to drip on his blankets. You wanted to rub your face into them, into the smell of him that always seemed to poke through even after days of work and grime and killing-- cinnamon and woods, perfectly symbolic.

After a few moments you let yourself catch your breath and looked back up at his face, still open mouthed and clenched in pain, and rubbed at your nose. With one last press of your forehead to his chest you began to back away, swallowing hard, but just before your hand on his wrappings pulled away, a hand both soft and callused held it in place.

“That’s all? I was enjoying that.”

You gasped and looked to him, still in pain and yet, smiling, and began to laugh so joyously that you practically wept.

“Oh Joel,” you laughed out, feeling blood rush into your cheeks, “you heard all that?”

He nodded with a smirk. “Was almost as good as a kiss on the back of my neck.”

You rolled your eyes and tucked your face into his chest, completely mortified, yet the happiest you had been in weeks. More of your tears and snot rubbed into his blankets, but neither of you seemed to care. You felt alive, like you were the one being drained of life in the last weeks, and you had finally clogged the leakage.

He tucked a hand into your hair and pulled you close, massaging your scalp. You exhaled in relief and breathed him in, not for the last time. He then lifted your head to look up at him and pulled your face closer, and closer, and closer.

“I dreamed of you,” he whispered, “all the time.”

You smiled, love, gratitude, and disbelief flooding your eyes. “You mumble in your sleep. I heard my name a couple times.”

“I’m sure ya did,” he said. His voice was extra husked from sleep and pain, as well as from moving his own muscles. Still, he continued to pull you close, close enough that your faces were now inches apart. “Most of the time, I was doin’ this.”

And he kissed you, so slowly, so gently, that you whined.

His lips molded to yours expertly, parting your lips enough to make you begin to sweat, and you reciprocated the pressure. His hands framed your face and your hands worked their way up to his own, scratching your fingertips across his glorious, salted beard. It was just as soft as you had envisioned. His lips were slightly chapped and his breath was filled with sleep, which you got even more of a taste of when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you immediately became his zealot, and he became yours.

With one last slip of his tongue, he pulled away. You reached in for more but he shook his head, brushing your hair away from your face.

“I can’t lead you where I want this to end, darlin’, not like this,” he whispered, “but I will.”

You smiled at him and pecked his lips one last time. “I know you will.”

He smiled and nodded, the pain of his stomach obviously starting to get to him, and you laid his head back to rest. “Sleep. Ellie will be back soon, she’s tracked down some medicine.”

He nodded once more and calmed his breathing, obviously beginning to fade into a sleep that he could no longer fight, and you brushed his hair back as you watched.

“Sleep Joel.”

He smiled, nice and wide, and whispered one thing before he was out cold. “I’ll dream of you.”

You hummed. “So will I.”

Tag List: (if you’d like to be added to my Joel taglist or any of my taglists, please feel free to ask!)

@leahkenobi

#joel #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #thelastofus #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian #hbo #naughty dog

1K notes · View notes

good-wine-and-cheese · 2 months

Text

Will I recover? Eventually!

#atom the beginning #atb spoilers #BROOOOOO?????#'hiroshi comes first' dont talk to me. no one talk to me #this is some kuwameshi shit #I came here for tenma ochan college lore where am I

27 notes · View notes

dandunn · 3 months

Text

Reading this arc of atom: the beginning is like oh its so nice everyone is together like this oh haha what tobio has a brain tumour? No it'll be alright this time, don't look behind-

What do you mean we already saw astro boy in the past?

No it'll be alright this time it's alright this time everything's going to be FINE.

#I've only had a108 for a day and I HATE THIS FUCKING BITCH LEAVE TOBIO ALONE #atom the beginning spoilers

2 notes · View notes

protect-tobio-tenma · 8 months

Text

Sneak peak of the next chapter of ATB I found on the creator’s thread account. I can’t speak Japanese so I don’t know what it says but it looks like Ham Bacon (or Ham Egg?) is gonna be at the hospital with Tobio as well.

#astro boy #atom the beginning #tetsuwan atom #atb spoilers

33 notes · View notes

riiverstyyx-blog · 1 year

Text

Wednesday Addams x GN!Reader

In which Wednesday saves the day and nearly loses her world.

Warnings: Body horror imagery, Gore, Near-death experiences, Fire-based contents, Unhealthy love related tendencies, SHOW SPOILERS, Hurt/Comfort,

Song: Saint Valentine, Gregory Alan Isakov

Wednesday Addams thrives off of the familiar yet shackling embrace of death.

Her soul lays dormant within its grasp; her mind teeters atop the bridge that rests above its ghost-infested domain - shoelaces always untied.

She tempts it, Death, giving the embodiment vague tastes and glimpses of her very life within its grasp. Breath and bone would intertwine whilst her feet would glide the floor in the choreographed dance with death.

Never before would her mind weasel away from the rotten smell that clings desperately onto her atoms, and never would the prospect of a person burning alive come across as unappealing.

When death occurs in relation to herself, in her words she loathes it- but realistically, she adores it; as long as it doesn’t claim someone who she considers ‘hers’. And you were ‘hers’. Perhaps that’s why her blackheart races and her stomach drops when Crackstones spell ricochets off of herself and encages your body in an eruption of flames before she is given even a moment to process it. She can’t imagine what that would have been like from your perspective.

Her eyes stare, wide, as she watches the flames lick your body.

Any other time, perhaps she would have been enjoying herself. Briefly she is reminded of her time with the Jericho statue (which she would love to recreate now), before the gut-wrenching screams and wales of the flames finally yanking you into their grasps tear through the air.

Skin melting, and bones revealing before they too begin to turn to ash. It’s a horrifying thing to witness.

She wants nothing more than to hold you - if she was lucky that would put out the flames, but if she were a smidge luckier, it would simply take her with you.

Her wide, blinking eyes are quick to take note of Crackstones laughter transforming into an angered yell, and she notices Bianca’s panicked expression when her sword impales the dead man walking.

With sweat encapsulating her palm, Wednesday herself follows along and draws his attention herself by staking him through the heart with a wicked expression forming onto her face.

Far to many things were running through her mind for her to notice Bianca speaking to her when his body began to fade. All of her attention was on the now dimming fire she was approaching.

Wednesday should feel some form of - not that she would admit - joy.

Crackstone had been defeated, and Nevermore could be considered ‘safe’ once again, but she doesn’t think that will matter any to her if you aren’t there to enjoy it at her side.

She stumbles toward you with furrowed brows, her eyes not leaving your ash-ridden corpse.

Falling to her knees at where you lay, her fingers twitch as they glide over you, attempting to find something - anything to grasp upon.

Her expression remains panicked, hands shaking when she realizes there isn’t anything for her to recognize. All that’s left is pieces of your charred corpse and the nauseating residue of your perfume.

Bianca herself is already in tears, but some other part of her heart breaks when she takes note of Wednesday’s own tears leaking down her pale, blood-coated skin.

“Addams-” Bianca chokes. “Wednesday.”

There is no response. She’s unsure if she can’t here her, or is choosing not too.

“Wednesday, can you hear me?”

Bianca knows to try and stay calm. One of them has too.

Her blue eyes flicker toward your being, widening momentarily. Faint movement comes from the ashes, and Bianca is quick to remove her palm from Wednesday’s shoulder, kneeling to move the ashes aside.

An unfamiliar rage fills Wednesday, but before she can speak, a bright golden glow is pulled from the ashes, forcing Wednesday to cover her eyes and lean back.

Heat surrounds her, and slowly, almost tentatively, she lowers her hands and glances around, only to look back at you.

Where your corpse once lay is a bird of fire - a phoenix, and it’s staring at her with those familiar eyes.

No words can escape Wednesday as she watches a tear fall from the creature before its body begins to glow, transforming into a smoke-based mist that begins to surround your ashes.

Weaving in and out of the destroyed body, the golden glow begins to piece you back together.

In some unexplainable way - some completely unfathomable way, you are being reformed. Your nickname of “Frankenstein” fits far more now that you, well, have died, rather than being a monstrous creation of your parents. (Perhaps that is a story she will have to ask about once more.)

Wednesday doesn’t blink until your body looks as it once was, well, despite the strong scent of blood and burnt flesh.

There’s a sense of fear in her when she does blink. What if you disappear? What if you aren’t actually there when she opens her eyes and she has to inform Enid of your traumatizing passing? What if she has to tell her mother and father a tale of of the love she had, and lost?

She is lucky, this is something she is now confident in, because when her eyes open once more, you’re still there, but now your eyes are wide, glowing an inhuman gold and locked onto nothing but Wednesday herself.

Wednesday Addams nearly feels pure terror when your confusion turns into a soft, yet playful grin. “Are you alright, Addams? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She should have hit you, perhaps gutted you alive, but she couldn’t.

“Amore Mio,” she mutters, taking your hand into her own and gently placing her lips upon your knuckles. “You are terrifying.”

Your eyes soften, placing your palm onto her cheek to gain her attention.

“But you like terrifying, yes?”

“Yes. I adore terrifying.”

#Wednesday #Wednesday Addams #Addams #The Addams Family #Wednesday x Reader #Wednesday Addams x reader #nevermore

347 notes · View notes

dreamweaversfavsandthoughs · 6 months

Text

Rick and Morty S7 Ep. 2: The Jerrick Trap

(Not Rick, not Jerry, but some secret third thing)

Spoiler alert ahead!

My Favs

The new voice actors:

I wanted to bring this up again because I think that Ian Cardoni has really evolved into his role as the new voice actor for Rick. It’s really hard to believe that Cardoni has only had this job for about month or two but is already playing this character like he’s been there since the beginning. It didn’t once cross my mind during this episode that I was not listening to Justin Roiland anymore. Harry Belden’s Morty sounds like a nice blend of Roiland’s Season 1 and Season 6 performance of that character.

Freaky Friday:

I appreciate that they didn’t do a clean body-swap but gave RickBody and JerryBody an amalgamation of the two minds in conflict with each other, but then evolving over the course of the episode into someones (or something) with its own identity.

Chuxly:

I kinda have a soft spot for Chuxly. He’s just a mid-tier criminal who’s trying not to cause any unnecessary trouble. He doesn’t need any incompetent goons kidnapping the precious grandson of the most dangerous man in the universe and he’ll kiss as much ass as he can until his lips are ass-colored.

Your dad’s a gay assassin?:

It’s a spectrum

Conehead missle:

So gross but RickBody looked so happy! Also I get why RickBody and JerryBody would like that movie because it is so dumb and so weird in a good way.

Burger and Fries!

God I love their cute name for each other! Also, am I the only person who found them snorting crystals together as they remember their love for Morty weirdly endearing.

Rick and Jerry’s half-assed note to the family:

But they wrote a novel for Gene

Do you hear the symphony of atoms dying in space?:

I don’t blame Summer for wanting to listen to a podcast. I would want to distract myself from whatever that is driving the car.

The Stupid Rake Gag:

This joke is older than God herself and in hindsight I should have seen this coming. The inciting incident was due to Gene stealing a rake. It was all laid out for this to happen but it was so cleverly concealed until it happened that I was absolutely taken off-guard. God I love that Jerry and Rick were rescued from their monstrous Jerricky form by a corny rake gag.

Rick and Jerry care about each other. They really do!

Though they’ll never admit it.

Memory Rick!

He’s alive and well and kept Rick and Jerry from completely losing their minds to Jerricky. Sadly, he might be stuck in Jerry’s mind for awhile unless he can make use of springs and gears and only springs and gears. I imagine there’s going be an episode in the future about his escape.

My Not Favs:

Jerricky:

He will haunt my dreams until my dying breath in which he will then greet me at the gates of Hell where he will orchestrate my torture for all eternity and a day. Personally, I wasn’t a huge fan of Jerricky and the final fight with him and why did they give it a six-pack? Neither Jerry or Rick have a six-pack. Who do they think they’re fooling?

Rick’s mind was a bit overpowering:

Maybe this is because Rick is a character with such a big personality but I felt like the aspects that could be Jerry was a bit drowned out. RickBody and JerryBody acted mostly like Rick with sprinkles of Jerry rather than an even mix of the two.

A criminal lack of Morty:

Morty (or should I say, Rick Jr.) maybe turning into a little criminal but I would like to have some more screen time with him. There’re eight more episodes left so I’m not too worried about this but I think Morty is a little underutilized for a character who has some great story potential (and his name is in the title of the show). However, I’m glad we got to see more of him compared to the last episode. He is getting so confident and not waiting around for his grandpa/dad and dad/grandpa to get himself out of trouble.

My Thoughts:

I love myself a Rick and Jerry team-up episode and this episode was no different. Rick and Jerry may never admit it, but they are more alike than different and their minds meld well together ( as long as they don’t make a Jerricky). The Rick/Jerry dynamic has always been rife with conflict since the first episode when Jerry tried to convince Beth to put Rick in a nursing home because Rick pulled Morty out of school, repeatedly, behind their backs. In a sweet moment in the middle of the episode we hear them admit that Rick doesn’t believe Jerry is useless and that Jerry sees Rick as a friend. By the end of the episode, they are back to bickering at each other again but we know as an audience that it comes from a place of love for each other and their love for Summer, Morty and Daughterwife. This episode, in my mind, was much stronger than last week’s and oh so weird in the best possible way, except for maybe Jerricky. Jerricky was the weakest part of the episode with the fight scene being a bit lackluster for an otherwise bonkers episode. Though that rake gag killed me. They really did just sneak that in and thought I wouldn’t notice, which I didn’t so good job on their part. It absolutely felt like a classic Rick and Morty episode and I hope each episode continues getting better and better. Also, it was nice seeing Memory Rick again and,

“Yeah, Memory Rick, Rick totally got rid of you on purpose.”

#rick and morty #rick and morty season 7 #rnm #rick and morty spoilers #rick sanchez #jerry smith #morty smith #summer smith #beth smith #the jerrick trap

57 notes · View notes