#[ 𝟎𝟏 ] ── *𝑏𝘦𝑛𝘦𝑎𝘵ℎ 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑖𝘤𝑒 (𝑠𝘯𝑜𝘸𝑝𝘪𝑒𝘳𝑐𝘦𝑟)

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

❝I don’t give a shit what you think.❞ ( opssss, on the train? before the train?)

Asriel’s jaw tightened at her cold dismissal, his blue eyes burning with barely restrained fury. The dim lighting of the car casted harsh shadows over his sharp features as he stepped closer to her, his voice low but brimming with venom. ❝You don’t give a shit what I think? Fine. But you damn well cared when it was convenient for you—when you needed me to clean up your mess, to pick up the pieces after you shattered everything.❞

He pointed a finger at her chest, his hand trembling slightly. ❝You abandoned Lyra. You abandoned us. And now you have the audacity to act like I’m the problem? Like none of this is your fault?❞ Asriel took a step back, shaking his head with a bitter laugh. ❝You can pretend all you want, Marisa, but deep down, you know the truth. You ran because you’re a coward, and you didn’t have the guts to stay and fight for her—or for me.❞ His voice softened, a flicker of pain breaking through his anger. ❝But don’t worry, I’ll keep doing what I’ve always done. I’ll fight. For Lyra. For the people down here who deserve better. And I’ll do it without you.❞ Without waiting for a reply, Asriel turned on his heel.

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Asriel’s gaze lingered on the plant as it was handed over, his expression carefully neutral, though the tension in his posture betrayed his concern. He took the bag, holding it up to inspect the specimen. The leaves were vibrant, untouched by the blight that had claimed so much already. It was a good sign, at least for now. He turned his attention back to Melanie, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. Her mention of new additions to the farm cars piqued his interest, and though she sounded calm, he could sense the unease beneath her measured words. The possibility of sabotage—or even accidental contamination—was not one he would dismiss lightly. On a train like this, with humanity’s survival hanging in the balance, even the smallest act of carelessness could mean catastrophe. ❝New workers,❞ he echoed, his tone quiet but weighted with implication. ❝If they carried this virus, intentional or not, we need to find out where it originated. Quickly. Any lapse in containment could spell the end of more than just the crops.❞ He set the bag down on the nearby counter, his hands already moving to prepare the lab station. What little equipment they had would have to suffice. Asriel worked with quick, practiced movements, his mind running through possible scenarios. A virus like this—targeting both plants and humans—was no accident in his view. Too precise. Too devastating.

❝I’ll analyze this sample,❞ he said, his voice firm now, more decisive. ❝If it’s engineered, the structure will tell us. Whoever created it might have left a trace—a signature. Something that can point us to the source.❞ He glanced back at Melanie, his expression hardening. ❝If this is deliberate, they didn't just target the crops. They targeted every single person on this train. That's not a rebellion. That's genocide.❞ A moment of silence passed, and then his tone shifted, colder, more resolved. ❝Get those files. I need to know who we’re dealing with—and how far they’re willing to go.❞ He turned back to the microscope, adjusting its settings before preparing a slide with the utmost care. Asriel's focus was unshakable now, every movement precise and deliberate. ❝And Cavill?❞ he added without looking up, ❝If you want to preserve the human race, as you say, then make sure this train doesn’t tear itself apart before we solve this. Fear will spread faster than the virus if we’re not careful.❞ He leaned closer to the microscope, his dark brows furrowing as the first glimpse of the plant’s cellular structure came into view. It was intricate and healthy, but even so, he searched for abnormalities, something that could confirm his suspicions. His hands were steady as he worked, yet his thoughts churned relentlessly. A virus capable of such precision would require significant knowledge and resources. Someone aboard this train had to have access to both. The question was: who, and why? The answers couldn’t come fast enough.

                   ˜”*°•.      Everything  was  hanging  from  a  tiny  thread.  One  virus,  one  spare-part  missing,  one  unexpected  avalanche  and  humanity  could  cease  to  exist .  But  wasn’t  this  the  reason   why  the  dorms  had  been  created  in  the  first  place  ?  Because  the  ecosystem  was  too  fragile  while  every  rotation  they  successfully  completed,  a  single  miracle.   So,  no.  If  the  man  succeeded  in  curing  this  virus  before  the  whole  train  turned  into  a  graveyard,  it  wouldn’t  be  just  the  ghost  of  mr.  Wilford  that’d  be  grateful ;  it’d  be  the  whole  train.   ❝ You  are  assisting  in  preserving  the  human  race.  He  doesn’t  have  a  reason  not  to  be . ❞  Even  though,  some  excuse  would  eventually  need  to  form  to  excuse  the  unavailability  of  mr.  Wilford.  However,  until  then,  they  had  plenty  of  time  to  focus  on  the  more  important  things.   

The  mere  idea  of  the  disease  being  engineered ,  was  terrifying .  If  someone  with  scientific  knowledge  had  decided  to  poison  the  remaining  of  humanity ,  things  could   go  very  wrong,  very  fast.  Sure,  political  imbalance  had  always  been  an  issue  among  the  people  of   Snowpiercer -  classes  fighting  each  other,  seeking  to  earn  more  rights  and  luxuries,  more  power.  However,  protesting  and  destroying  one  of  their  basic  food  sources ,  were  two  entirely  different  things .  And  yet,  the  worry  remained  well-hidden  behind  the  forced  calmness.  The  other  was  a  member  of  the  Tail ,  after  all ;  the  tensions  surrounding  the  rest  of  the  train ,  none  of  his  concern.  However,  he  was  right.  Withholding  crucial  information  in  order  to  sustain  politics  would  lead  nowhere,  when  sooner  or  later,  there  would  be  none  to  mind  politics.

❝ It’s  already  on  lockdown  and  all  patients  in  isolation .  We  can’t  know  how  many  people  came  in  contact  with  them,  though. ❞   If  the  virus  even  spreaded  from  one person  to  another  and  not  simply  from  plants  to  humans.  And  yet,  at  his  next  words,  she  briefly  hesitated.  ❝ Few  days  before  the  virus  started,  we  had  some  new  additions  to  the  farm  cars.  New  workers. ❞  Maybe  she  was  being  paranoid  for  suspecting  them  to  be  a  deliberate  cause,  however  all  potential  scenarios  needed  to  be  tested  out.  While,  even  if  it  was  not  deliberate  to  begin  with,  none  said  that  they  couldn’t have carried  the  virus  and  simply  spreaded  it .    ❝ I  will  check  their  files . ❞  At  least,  this  way  they  could  have  a  basic  idea  for  their  background ,  their  potential  knowledge  and  ability  to  engineer  a  destruction  like  this.

 It  was  only  after  a  moment  that  the  car  door  opened  and  the  man  approached  -  a  bag  with  a  plant  inside  of  it  in   hand.  ❝ Will  this  do ? ❞ 

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

New verse added! Snowpiercer

Born and raised in a small village in the Scottish Highlands, Asriel had an unremarkable yet comfortable upbringing until the world descended into chaos. The planet's climate shifted dramatically, leading to the catastrophic freeze that devastated the Earth. At the time, Asriel was a rising star in medicine, having earned his doctorate in biochemistry and specializing in emergency care. On the verge of revolutionary medical breakthroughs, his work was cut short by the cataclysm.

As the world plunged into an ice age, he was forced to make difficult choices to survive. His lover fled to the U.S., allying with Mr. Wilford and abandoning Asriel and their daughter in favor of a new life. The betrayal left a deep scar, fuelling his enduring resentment toward them both.

When the opportunity to board Snowpiercer arose, he took the dangerous journey with a group of fellow survivors, eventually finding himself in the Tail section of the train. Conditions there were harsh, but his medical expertise quickly made him invaluable to the Taillies. Despite limited resources, Asriel used his ingenuity to treat injuries and illnesses, including ailments caused by the train’s extreme environment. His pragmatic approach and ability to adapt under pressure earned him respect among the Tail's beleaguered population.

Asriel’s knowledge extended beyond medicine. A natural leader, he helped organize resistance efforts within the Tail, pushing back against the oppressive systems designed to keep them subjugated. Though not one for fiery speeches, his actions spoke volumes. He was known for his sharp mind, resourcefulness, and refusal to submit to Wilford’s tyranny. Yet, this resistance came at a cost, forcing Asriel to navigate morally ambiguous territory to ensure survival.

The hardships of the Tail only strengthened Asriel’s resolve. The man who once dreamed of changing the world through scientific innovation now fought to carve out a future on Snowpiercer, driven by a mix of anger, ambition, and a desire to confront those who had abandoned him. His relationships with other Taillies were defined by shared struggles and mutual respect. Though he often kept his emotions in check, his fierce dedication to his community made him a key figure in their ongoing fight for equality and survival.

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

@cculters asked for 👻

👻👻𝓱𝓪𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓭𝓫𝓸𝓪𝓻𝓭👻👻

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Verses and AU

Main verse: His dark materials (my fight is against the authority)

Demonic: (the ruler of hell)

The last of us: (apocalyptic experiments)

Star wars: (don't let place to your anger)

The sandman: (don't fall asleep tonight)

X-men/MCU: (inside the brotherhood)

Historical: (the rebellious verse)

Demi-god: (the son of the god of war)

Modern: (beyond the stars)

Vampire: (the hunter becomes the prey)

Harry Potter: (the gryffindor renegade)

Doctor Who: (the fringe of duty)

Sherlock verse: (me and the crime)

Snowpiercer: (beneath the ice)

ACOTAR: (bound by two courts)

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

💬

❝Cruel. Selfish. And snobby.❞

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Asriel paced the narrow space, his boots striking the ground in a rhythm as relentless as the storm of thoughts in his head. Marisa's words clung to him like frost, cold and cutting. Each syllable, each accusation, lodged itself in his chest like shards of ice. Her presence brought back too much—memories of a life they’d left behind, the warmth that had once existed between them, and the unbearable void she had left in her wake. His steps halted abruptly. He stood at the edge of the dimly lit room, his gaze focused on the floor beneath him as if searching for answers in the shadows. The weight of Marisa’s words settled heavily on his shoulders, each syllable sharpening the sting of their fractured past. He could feel the coldness creeping in, the space between them widening with every passing second. She was still the same in so many ways—calm, calculating, unyielding—but he wasn’t. Not anymore. He clenched his fists, the familiar ache of his scars gnawing at him. There were days when he could still feel the heat of the fire that had once burned so brightly within him—the fire that had driven him to fight, to protect, to survive. But that flame had been smothered, buried under years of hardship, of sacrifice, and of losing more than he ever thought he could bear. Yet, somehow, here she was again, testing the limits of that flame. He turned, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers, the fire within him burning hotter. There was no mistaking the authority in her tone, the ruthlessness behind her promises. But he had changed too. He was no longer the man she had walked away from. No longer someone who would bend beneath the weight of her demands.

❝ Is that what you think this is? ❞ His voice was low, carrying a simmering anger barely held in check. ❝ That I’ve kept her in the Tail out of spite? You think I haven’t thought about what’s best for her every second since the day you left? ❞ The words cracked like a whip, sharp and unyielding, yet beneath them was the unmistakable undercurrent of pain. ❝ You don’t get to judge me, Marisa. ❞ His voice deepened, resonating with the weight of years spent fighting, surviving, and sacrificing. ❝ Not after what you did. You left. You chose to walk away.❞ He exhaled sharply, the tension in his body palpable. ❝ You talk about giving her a better life. Do you even know what that means anymore? Moving her up the train? Sure, she might have better food, cleaner air, fewer bruises... but at what cost? You think I don’t see what happens up there? What people like you do to survive? You’re just as much a prisoner as the rest of us—your prison’s just gilded. ❞

His jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms tense with the weight of the decision hanging between them. The offer dangled like a poisoned apple, so tempting in its practicality yet laced with the bitterness of their shared history. His mind battled the temptation—lifting Lyra out of the squalor, the filth, the constant struggle of the Tail. He could give her a life without hunger, without fear of the next brutal blow or harsh winter. But at what cost? His soul? Hers? Could he truly give up everything he had fought for, everything that had made him who he was, just to move up a few cars on the train? ❝ I don’t trust you, ❞ he admitted, his voice quieter now, but no less resolute. His gaze hardened, fixing on her with a coldness that matched the chill creeping through the walls of the Tail. ❝ I don’t trust your world, your promises, or the motives behind them. But don’t think for a second that I don’t love her. ❞ His voice cracked like thunder, each word dripping with the weight of years spent questioning his every move. His stare never wavered, his eyes boring into hers, as if daring her to deny his truth. ❝ Everything I’ve done—every bruise, every scar, every fight—it’s been for her. ❞

He stepped closer, the space between them charged with years of unresolved tension, a battlefield where love and resentment collided in a brutal clash. His breath quickened as he drew near, but his voice held steady, a clear warning beneath its sharp edge. ❝ You’re right about one thing: this is a choice. My choice. And I’m not making it for you. I’ll decide what’s best for her—not you, not Wilford, not anyone else on this goddamn train. ❞ His words stung like a slap, but there was something else in his eyes—a flicker of fear, perhaps. Fear of losing her. Fear of failing her. For a brief moment, his voice softened, though the fire in his eyes never waned. The heat was still there, but it was tempered with the vulnerability of a man who had lost so much, yet still had so much to protect. ❝ But if you truly mean this—if you’re really willing to do something for her and not for whatever game you’re playing—then prove it. Show me that this isn’t just another one of your manipulations. Because if it is, Marisa... ❞ For a brief moment, his voice softened, though the fire in his eyes never waned. The heat was still there, but it was tempered with the vulnerability of a man who had lost so much, yet still had so much to protect. ❝ I’ll stop you. Whatever it takes. ❞

idleness   was   a   term   that   could   never   describe   the   man   before   her.   he   was   the   embodiment   of   motion,   a   constant   tide   surging   forward.   every   step   he   took   seemed   to   echo   with   purpose.   a   man   of   action,   a   man   of   relentless   progress...   these   were   qualities   she   had   seen   rooted   deeply   within   him,   ones   she   doubted   would   ever   abandon   his   soul.   his   ambition,   his   iron   will   —   what   once   inspired   awe   now   sparked   unease,   a   shadow   of   mistrust   growing   ever   darker.   especially   with   the   fire   still   burning   within   him,   giving   him   a   reason   to   stand   firm,   to   fight...   &   they   had   drifted   too   far   apart   to   burn   for   one   the   same   cause.   if   anything,   each   had   become   little   more   than   a   threat   to   the   other.it   was   not   nearly   as   easy   to   embrace   the   fact   as   her   outer   calm   could   suggest.   beneath   the   smooth   surface   of   water,   vicious   vortices   churned,   growing   wilder   as   her   mind   mapped   out   potential   threats,   outcomes,   &   solutions.   had   it   been   anyone   else   pacing   before   her,   she   would   not   have   hesitated   for   a   second   to   remove   the   threat   from   the   board.

❝   i’m   no   longer   certain   what   you’re   referring   to   —   us   or   the   world?   because   if   it’s   the   latter—   ❞   her   voice   faltered   slightly   &   she   shook   her   head   lightly,   suppressing   a   chuckle   that   would   have   felt   closer   to   sorrow   than   amusement.   "that’s   precisely   what   i’m   offering   —   for   you   &   her   to   reclaim   what   you’ve   lost   of   the   old   life.   as   much   as   one   can   in   the   current   circumstances   at   least.   "   her   words   carry   the   weight   of   promises,   so   light   in   comparison   to   following   accusations.   ❝   you   call   this   fighting   for   her?   outright   refusing   my   influence   to   move   her   further   up   the   train?   you   assume   she’s   better   off   down   there?   is   that   what   you   call   love?   ❞   the   questions   landed   with   an   edge,   calculated   to   wound.   but   as   the   words   fell   from   her   lips,   she   realised   how   deftly   he   had   ensnared   her,   caught   on   his   hooks   like   a   fish   fighting   a   losing   battle.   on   the   one   thing   her   instincts   refused   to   let   her   abandon,   regardless   of   the   passing   years,   the   growing   distance,   or   the   layers   of   denial.   &   now,   the   thought   of   her   down   there   was   the   sole   force   capable   of   thawing   the   ice   encasing   her   heart.

❝   but   don't   mistake   things,   asriel,   ❞   her   voice   deepened,   resonating   with   a   tone   that   brooked   no   refusal   or   defiance.   ❝   this   is   a   courtesy   on   my   part   —   offering   you   a   choice.   because,   let   me   assure   you,   i   will   make   it   for   you   if   i   must.   ❞   the   threat   slid   from   her   lips   with   effortless   ruthlessness,   her   gaze   piercing   into   the   icy   blue   of   his.   she   had   never   been   an   easy   person   to   deal   with,   even   in   the   days   when   their   worlds   revolved   solely   around   each   other.   yes,   she   had   made   the   heart-wrenching   decision   to   leave   their   little   girl   in   his   care,   walking   away   from   all   they   might   have   built   together...   but   even   that   paled   in   comparison   to   the   ruthlessness   of   what   came   after.   how   much   remained   of   the   woman   he   once   knew   was   a   mystery,   but   it   was   pure   illusion   to   believe   she   lingered   beneath   the   surface.   &   sentiment...?   it   was   like   a   deadly   disease.   its   claws   raked   through   her   even   now,   unseen   but   unrelenting.   none   of   it   had   ever   stopped   her   before,   though...

❝   no,   i   wouldn't   dream   of   asking   you   to   trust   me.   ❞   the   corners   of   her   lips   curved   faintly,   a   ghost   of   a   smile,   however   her   eyes   betrayed   a   flicker   of   something   unspoken,   too   fleeting   to   name.   she   scarcely   trusted   herself   to   remain   convincing   enough   to   stop   him   from   peering   too   closely   into   the   secrets   she   had   carefully   cloaked   herself   in   over   the   past   few   years.   that   made   his   presence   dangerous   —   &   yet,   it   was   a   risk   she   was   willing   to   take.   but   how   much   of   a   lie   would   it   be   to   claim   she   could   control   him   completely?   ❝   i   won't   promise   things   will   go   back   to   how   they   were.   but   they   will   be   better   than   what   you've   endured   these   past   few   years.   &   if   you   won't   do   this   for   me   or   yourself,   then   do   it   for   her.   ❞   the   name   of   their   daughter   lingered,   unspoken,   yet   its   weight   filled   the   space   between   them. 

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Asriel stood frozen for a moment, Marisa’s words weaving around him like a net. They were calm, deliberate, and laced with a subtle pain he almost missed if not for the years of knowing her. But calm wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted fire, he wanted anger, he wanted something that matched the tempest in his chest. Instead, she sat there, composed, her words digging into him with a precision that felt surgical. He turned toward her slowly, his jaw clenched tight enough to ache. She always had a way of twisting logic, didn’t she? Offering something that sounded so perfect, so reasonable, but left an aftertaste of bitterness. It was her greatest strength—and his greatest frustration. ❝If you think this is a play, Marisa,❞ he started, his voice low and gravelly, ❝then you’ve mistaken me for someone who’ll sit back and applaud at the tragedy.❞ His eyes burned as they locked onto hers, unwavering. ❝I refuse to let go because I still believe there’s something worth holding on to.❞

He paced the room, his boots echoing against the cold floor, the sound filling the silence between them. His hand raked through his hair, frustration crackling off him like static. ❝You think I’m chasing what I can’t have? No, Marisa. I’m fighting for what I’ve already lost. For Lyra. For every moment we should’ve had before this nightmare began. And for every lie you told to keep me in the dark.❞ He stopped abruptly, turning to face her again. He let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. ❝You think dangling those things in front of me will erase what’s happened? Do you think a ‘simple yes’ is enough to make me forget why we’re even here?❞ His fists clenched at his sides, trembling as he fought to rein himself in. She sat there, perfectly still, her posture a mirror of control. But he could see through it—the tension in her jaw, the faint marks her nails left on her skin. She wanted him to take the offer. She needed him to take it. And that knowledge only made him angrier. ❝You talk about loyalty like it’s a commodity,❞ he said, his tone cutting. ❝But you don’t even understand what it means. I didn’t vow to fight for Lyra out of some sense of obligation. I did it because I love her. Because she’s the only thing in this frozen hell worth living for. And I’ll be damned if I trade that love for whatever you’re selling.❞

He took a step closer, leaning over the table, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, though the intensity in it didn’t waver. ❝You think they’d kill for what you can offer? Maybe. But at least their motives are honest. You? You’ve been playing the same game since the day we boarded this train. Power, control, survival at all costs. But don’t pretend this is about kindness.❞ He straightened, shaking his head, his expression a mix of fury and exhaustion. Her next words hit him harder than he expected. “Think it through.” A simple phrase, but it carried the weight of every decision he’d made since stepping onto the train. Every compromise, every sacrifice, every damn thing he’d done to keep Lyra alive. ❝I’ve thought it through, Marisa,❞ he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. ❝Every time I’ve had to make a choice, I’ve thought it through. And you know what I’ve learned? There’s no right answer. Not here. Not now. But I’ll be damned if I let you decide for me.❞ He began to pace again, his movements restless, his thoughts spilling out faster than he could contain them. He gestured toward her. ❝Your answers? They’re never the ones I’m asking for. You’ve given me half-truths, empty promises, and now this—this illusion of a fresh start. Do you even believe in it? Or is it just another ploy to keep the Tail quiet?❞

His pacing stopped as her final words lingered in the air, heavy and full of meaning. ❝A new beginning,❞ he repeated softly, almost to himself. For a moment, the anger seemed to drain from his face, replaced by something more vulnerable, something raw. Could he believe in that? Could he let himself believe in her? He shook his head, his voice trembling with restrained emotion. ❝You’re asking me to trust you, Marisa. After everything. After Lyra. After all the people you’ve left behind.❞ He looked at her then, really looked, as if searching for something he’d long since stopped expecting to find. ❝I can’t promise you anything,❞ he said finally, his tone quieter now, more measured. ❝But I’ll think about it.❞ Without waiting for her response, he turned toward the door, his steps heavy, deliberate. Her words echoed in his mind as he walked away, a chorus of promises and regrets he wasn’t sure he could ever reconcile.

her   eyebrow   arched   sharply   as   his   suggestion   hung   in   the   air.   ❝   if   that   were   what   i   wanted,   i   wouldn’t   need   other   's   hands   to   do   it.   ❞   there   was   perhaps   a   glimmer   of   amusement   in   her   tone,   brief   &   barely   perceptible.   their   history   had   always   been   far   too   intimate   to   leave   something   like   this   to   a   stranger   —   last   crime   of   passion.   yet,   she   had   never   wished   him   harm,   let   alone   death.   he   simmered   with   pain   &   hatred,   borne   of   old   wounds,   but   those   wounds   were   not   inflicted   by   hate   she   herself   felt.   on   the   contrary,   in   fact...   ❝   but   do   you   honestly   believe   either   of   them   wouldn’t   kill   for   even   a   fraction   of   what   i   can   offer?   that   loyalty   would   mean   anything   to   them?   &   what   of   your   loyalty   to   her?   ❞   marisa   challenged,   her   gaze   unwavering,   as   though   a   single   blink   might   splinter   her   carefully   held   composure.   ❝   didn’t   you   just   vow   to   fight   for   her?   but   you   don’t   have   to   fight   anymore   —   all   it   takes   is   a   simple   yes.   she   could   go   to   school,   you   could   work   in   the   clinic.   ❞   a   quiet   ache   spread   through   her   chest,   unbidden   but   undeniable.   taking   people   from   the   tail   ever   since   those   first   rebellions   had   been   a   risk.   &   she   knew   asriel   —   his   fierceness,   his   defiant   spirit,   his   unshakable   sense   of   justice.   his   kindness   extended   only   to   those   who   had   earned   it.   just   letting   him   return   was   a   risk   she   wasn’t   certain   they   could   afford...   &   her   eyes   almost   begged   him   to   ease   her   from   facings   such   a   dilemma.   ❝   just...   think   it   through.   ❞

marisa   drew   a   nearby   chair   back,   the   scrape   of   the   chair   legs   against   the   floor   felt   sharp.  she   folded   her   arms   in   a   mirrored   stance   as   she   lowered   herself   into   the   seat,   her   legs   crossing.   the   tension   has   begun   to   grow   palpable   &   her   very   posture   became   a   fortress   against   the   growing   unease.   ❝   it's   quite   the   tragedy   in   a   play   written   for   us,   ❞   she   remarked,   her   voice   cool   once   again,   as   if   reciting   an   unyielding   truth,   a   law   etched   in   stone.   ❝   we’re   always   chasing   after   what   we   can’t   have.   &   when   we   think   we   might   finally   reach   the   fulfilment,   it   isn't   there.   the   difference   between   us   is   just   that   you   refuse   to   let   go.   ❞   &   she   knew   why   he   clung   to   it,   for   she   felt   it   too,   with   the   same   vivid   intensity   as   the   constant   churn   of   the   wheels   beneath   their   feet   —   what   they   had   forged   together   was   real.   perhaps   that   made   it   all   the   more   cruel.   if   she   harboured   regret,   it   was   for   knowing   she   wasn’t   crafted   for   the   very   things   they   had   once   longed   for.

her   nails   bit   into   her   arms   as   she   shook   her   head   gently,   the   crescent   imprints   left   by   her   nails   echoed   the   battle   waging   inside   her.   searching   for   life   felt   futile   when   the   rest   of   the   world   lay   lifeless.   the   collective   weight   of   individual   choices   loomed   over   their   train   for   everyone   had   decided   to   leave   those   they   cared   about   behind...   but not   everyone   had   been   fortunate   enough   to   cross   paths   with   the   dead...   yet   her   lips   pressed   into   a   thin   line   as   she   wrestled   with   finding   the   right   words.   not   until   more   demands   shaped   themselves   on   his   lips.   answers...   ❝   i’ve   already   given   you   the   answers.   at   every   step   of   the   way.   you   just   refuse   to   accept   them.   ❞   her   voice   was   steady,   yet   each   word   landed   like   a   hammer.   half   truths   had   always   infuriated   him,   didn't   they?   just   as   it   maddened   her   when   he   denied   her   the   illusion   that   he   couldn’t   see   straight   through   them.   ❝   there   are   thousands   of   answers   you   could   uncover   —   if   you   stay.   i’m   offering   you   a   chance   to   start   a   life   where   the   old   dust   can   finally   settle.   one   we   could   share.   just   don’t——   ❞   she   added,   her   head   shaking   slightly.   ❝   ...   don’t   read   too   much   into   this   word...   but   i   promise   you:  with   time,   you’ll   find   not   just   closure,   but   a   new   beginning.   ❞

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Asriel’s eyes followed the departing figure carrying out Melanie’s orders, his jaw tightening slightly. Resources were scarce—he knew that— and that old resentment he harbored for the upper classes, for their hoarded luxuries and dismissive attitudes toward those below, simmered just beneath the surface. Yet now was not the time to dwell on those grievances. The stakes were too high. ❝If the plant is intact, it’s a start,❞ he muttered, more to himself than her, before shifting his gaze back to Melanie. He was still trying to decide if she was an ally or just another gatekeeper. Her willingness to provide supplies was promising, but he knew better than to trust too easily. Everyone had their own agenda on Snowpiercer, and Melanie Cavill was no exception. Her question about the virus being engineered gave him pause. It wasn’t a possibility he’d wanted to entertain openly, but it had been lingering at the back of his mind since the first signs of its spread. He drew in a slow breath, glancing down at the lifeless body on the table before speaking.

❝It’s possible,❞ he said carefully, weighing his words. ❝The way it’s spreading, targeting specific crops—it feels deliberate. But viruses mutate; they adapt. Until I can analyze it properly, I won’t jump to conclusions. What I do know is that if this wasn’t engineered, then nature has decided to outdo itself this time.❞ The thought of someone intentionally unleashing such devastation churned his stomach. It wasn’t just reckless; it was suicidal. On this train, where humanity’s last vestiges clung to survival, such an act would be nothing short of annihilation. ❝We’ll see if he’s as delighted as you think,❞ was all he said, a faint edge to his tone.

As she led the way out of the greenhouse car, Asriel’s gaze lingered momentarily on the corpse before he followed her. His mind was already racing through the work that lay ahead. He could feel the oppressive weight of the train around him, every car a reminder of how precarious their existence was. When they entered the lab, his sharp eyes swept over the equipment with a practiced intensity. The microscope looked functional enough, and the shelves held at least some of what he’d asked for. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. ❝This will do,❞ he said after a moment, though his tone lacked enthusiasm. He stepped toward the counter, rolling up his sleeves as he began mentally organizing the next steps. He glanced back at Melanie, his expression unreadable. ❝I’ll start with the samples. Once I know what we’re dealing with, I’ll have a clearer idea of what we need. Until then, keep the farm on lockdown. If this virus spreads any further, it won’t just be your ecosystem at risk—it’ll be the entire train.❞ He turned his attention back to the lab, already pulling on a pair of gloves. The faint hum of the train beneath his feet felt louder here, a constant reminder of the fragility of their existence. As he began preparing the equipment, his thoughts drifted momentarily to the Tail, to the people depending on him to find a solution. He couldn’t afford to fail—not now, not ever. ❝If there’s anything else you’re withholding, now’s the time to tell me, Cavill,❞ he added without looking up, his voice steady but firm. ❝We’re already on borrowed time. Don’t waste it.❞

                   ˜”*°•.      Limited  medical  supplies ,  limited  scientists ;  two  issues  that  Snowpiercer  had   come  face  to  face  with,  soon  after  departure,  not  really  capable  of  meeting  the  demands  of  that  many  people .   And  so ,  they’d  been  treated  as  luxury ;  first  class  having  them  freely,  while  lower  classes ?  Scarcely .  A  rule  she  was  more  than  willing  to  break  at  the  moment, though.  If  he  needed  medicine,  she  would  give  it  to  them.  And  if  he  needed  access  to  a  lab,  then  so  be  it .  Of  course,  his  freedom  ended  there,  though ;  she   needed  this  crisis  sorted  out  and  then …  well,  his  future  depended  on  him .

At  his  request ,  she  nodded .  These  were  all  things  she  could  provide  him  with -  well,  with  the  exclusion  of  the  antiviral,  which  she  wasn’t  certain  if  they  could  find.  Still,  she  turned  to  the   man  that’d  accompanied  them  in  the  car,  beckoned  him  to  go .   ❝ You  heard  him .  We  will  be  waiting  in  the  lab. ❞  And  with  that,  the  man  left  the  car.  A  healthy  plant  should not  be  too  hard  to  find.  Sure,  the  first  car  that’d  been  affected  by  the  virus  had  barely  a  single  healthy  leaf  left,  however  the  rest  of  the  cars  should  be  containing  enough.

❝ Do  you  think  there  is  a  high  possibility  this  virus  is  engineered ? ❞  Question  that   echoed  curious  as  she  observed  his  feautures.  If  someone  had  indeed  made  this,  if  someone   had  considered  it  clever  to  endanger  the  future  of  the  human  race  just  to  protest,  it  was  a  problem .  She’d  already  dealt  with  the  rebellions  in  the  Tail,  having  to  face  a   scientist  determined  to  annihilate  them ?  She  could  use  a  break.

At  his  next  words ,  a  pause  was  made .  ❝ Of  course. ❞  She  smiled  at  him .  ❝ I  am  sure  mr.  Wilford  will  be  delighted  to  meet  you.  ❞  And  with  that,  she  followed  him  outside,  led  the  way  towards  the  next  car.   ❝ Here  you   will  find  the  microscope  and  everything  related  that  we  have .  It’s  not  much  but  I  am  sure  you  will  find  a  way. ❞  No.  Especially  after  the  break-in   that’d  taken  place  a  year  ago,  a  lot  of  essential  equipment  had  been  stolen  or  destroyed.  Including  specific  medicine  that’d  so  quickly  gone  extinct. 

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

asriel’s hand clenched at his side, nails biting into his palm as her words settled over him like a suffocating weight. he wanted to fire back immediately, to let the sharp edge of his frustration cut through her excuses, but the restraint was reflexive, almost involuntary. over the years, he’d learned how to absorb the sting of disappointment, to bury it somewhere deep where it wouldn’t fester. but now, faced with her, it all came rushing back—raw and unfiltered. he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the floor, the sound deliberate, purposeful. his gaze stayed locked on hers, studying her features with the precision of someone cataloging a battlefield. the faint tremble in her voice, the tight lines around her mouth, the way her eyes refused to stay steady on his—it all betrayed her mask of composure. she wanted to act untouchable, above it all, but he could see the cracks. he always could. her offer of comfort hung in the air, almost laughable in its inadequacy. comfort? the word felt foreign, like a language he’d long since forgotten. what did she even mean by it?

❝comfort?❞ he echoed, his voice low and measured, but the words carried a sharp edge. ❝i don't need your comfort, marisa. the other tailies might already think i'm a traitor just by being here. if i come back there all cleaned up or fed, they will beat me to death.❞ his lips twitched into a bitter smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. she always had a way of distilling complexity into simplicity, wrapping up the jagged edges of their history into something neat and palatable. but this? this was insulting. ❝but maybe that's why you're offering.❞ he exhaled through his nose, his fingers tracing the cold edge of the table beside him. the scrape of his nail against the metal was faint but grounding, a tether to keep his temper from spiraling. the anger rising in his chest wasn’t just anger—it was frustration, grief, and something uglier he didn’t want to admit. her words weren’t just sharp; they hit places he’d tried to fortify, walls he thought were impenetrable. and still, she managed to slip through.

❝you couldn’t afford to show weakness,❞ he said, his voice harder now, the words slicing through the air. ❝i don’t remember asking for perfection, marisa. i don’t remember asking for strength.❞ he dragged a hand through his hair, his frustration bubbling over. ❝what i wanted—what I needed—was something real. something you’ve never been able to give me.❞ he turned away, his gaze settling on the frost-covered window. the world beyond the train blurred into an endless white, a stark reminder of how far they’d come and how little they’d gained. every mile the train traveled felt like a mockery, carrying them farther from answers, from closure. from her. ❝and regret?❞ he turned back to her, his eyes narrowing, piercing. ❝maybe you don’t afford it, but I see it on your face. you carry it with you like a shadow.❞ his voice softened, losing its venom but not its ache. ❝you want to know the truth? i’d rather feel your anger than watch you drown in that. at least anger feels alive.❞

he leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest as though shielding himself from the weight of his own words. this wasn’t just about her, though, was it? it was about him, too—their choices, their failures, their inability to find common ground even now. he hated her for what she’d done, but he hated himself more for how much he still cared. ❝but don’t mistake this for forgiveness,❞ he said finally, the sharpness returning to his tone. ❝you made your choices. i made mine.❞ for a moment, the air between them hung heavy with unspoken words, a gulf filled with everything they would never say. asriel’s gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of their shared history pressing down on his shoulders. he wanted to walk away, to let this be the end of their conversation, but something rooted him in place—some stubborn refusal to let her have the last word. ❝what I need from you, marisa,❞ he said, his voice low, almost weary, ❝isn’t a shower or a meal. it’s answers. it’s something that actually means something. but I guess that’s too much to ask, isn’t it?❞ he pushed off the table, his steps slow but deliberate as he turned toward the door. the ache in his chest was familiar now, a constant companion. he wondered, not for the first time, if he’d ever be rid of it.

❝   yes,   just   like   everyone   else   —   trapped   in   the   illusion   of   privilege,   believing   they   can   make   mistakes   without   facing   the   consequences,   ❞   marisa   pressed.   it   had   been   the   magic   of   him   —   just   how   free   &   carefree   he   used   to   make   her   feel.   how   his   mere   presence   compelled   her   to   let   go   of   the   faint   echoes   of   reason   still   lingering   in   her   mind.   because,   deep   down,   they   both   must   have   known   this   could   never   lead   to   anything   good.   voicing   such   thoughts,   even   allowing   herself   to   think   them,   still   made   her   chest   heave,   as   though   breathing   itself   had   become   a   labour.   each   word   like   a   stone,   piling   weight   onto   her   ribs,   words   echoing   in   her   mind   ;   mistakes,   consequences,   nothing   &   good.   each   one   was   a   bullet,   &   she   kept   pulling   the   trigger.   each   one   erected   another   barrier   between   them,   walls   she   desperately   wished   to   drag   into   place   —   to   shield   herself   from   seeing   too   far,   too   deep.   to   ignore   how   much   fresh   hurt   she   had   piled   onto   the   already   towering   wreckage   in   her   wake.   to   shield   herself   from   questions   she   dared   not   ask,   &   never   for   a   moment   risk   lowering   the   mask   that   hid   what   lay   beneath.   nor   see   the   state   he   was   in...   the   raw   pain   reflected   in   his   eyes.   nor   think   of   how   every   piece   of   it   was   tainted   by   her   touch.   every...

the   tension   carved   sharp   lines   across   her   face,   betraying   her   effort   to   remain   composed.   the   weight   of   his   question   pressed   down   on   her   chest,   leaving   no   room   for   evasion.it   hung   heavily   in   the   air   between   them,   compelling   her   to   answer,   even   if   only   with,   ❝   i   can't   afford   to.   ❞   there   had   been   times   when   she   had   dwelled   on   the   what   ifs   —   the   ones   she   had   convinced   herself   were   beyond   undoing.   &   she   had   to   admit   her   rage   over   finding   joseph   abandoned   stemmed   from   more   than   the   shattering   of   her   own   schemes.   if   only   she’d   known   wilford   would   never   make   it,   she   might   have   pick   up   the   effort   to   secure   them   a   place   aboard   the   train.   ❝   &   regret   what?   the   first   time   i   left?   the   second?   the   third?   or   the   fact   that   i   never   let   our   child   near   him?   i   couldn’t   afford   for   him   to   see   any   weakness   in   me.   ❞   marisa   whispered,   though   she   knew   it   changed   nothing.   she   wasn’t   seeking   understanding   or   forgiveness.   such   words   had   long   since   disappeared   from   her   vocabulary.   she   shook   her   head,   her   gaze   softening   by   a   fraction.   even   after   all   these   years,   she   couldn’t   claim   indifference   toward   him...   even   knowing   that   the   way   he   softened   her   gaze   would   lead   only   to   more   pain.   ❝   but   will   you   at   least   let   me   offer   you   some   comfort   now?   ❞   a   warm   shower,   a   hot   meal,   clean   clothes...   even   if   none   of   it   could   atone   for   the   choices   already   made.

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Asriel listened intently to Melanie’s words, his gaze flicking between her and the body on the table. His face was impassive, but inside, his thoughts raced. Every new detail she provided fed the growing unease in his gut. The virus was spreading quickly, and the consequences were too severe to ignore. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down—not now, not with so much at stake. The mention of his daughter made his mind shift for a brief moment, but he quickly steeled himself. ❝A list of supplies, fine,❞ he said, his voice clipped, betraying no emotion. He stepped closer to the body and knelt down next to it again, his gaze flicking over the pale skin. His fingers hovered over the lifeless form, careful not to disturb it. The virus was different. His mind shifted quickly, trying to piece together the puzzle. ❝I need to see what we’re dealing with at a cellular level. I’ll also need a microscope, reagent kits, and sterile containers. If there’s any diagnostic equipment nearby, I want access to that too.❞

What if this virus wasn’t just biological but engineered? He didn’t want to think that way, but the reality of it gnawed at him. He straightened up and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. The plant was his only hope now. It could hold the key, or it could be another dead end. He didn’t have the luxury of indecision. ❝We’ll need more than just protective equipment,❞ he continued, his tone sharper now, as his mind calculated the next steps. ❝Get me any antiviral or broad-spectrum medication you have, especially anything that’s been tested for viral resistance. I'm also gonna need syringes for blood samples from those who are ill.❞ This wasn’t just about solving a crisis. If he failed here, the consequences could destroy everything. The virus could wipe out the crops, the people, and with it, the last shred of hope this train had. He hated what the train represented but he pushed that thought away. Now wasn't the time.

❝And send someone for the plant now.❞ His voice was insistent, his patience thinning. He turned toward the door, but before he could step out, he paused and looked back at Melanie, his eyes piercing. He could feel the weight of the situation in every muscle, every thought. ❝Once I’ve seen the patients, I need to speak to Wilford. He knows this train inside and out.❞ For a moment, he stood still, wondering if she would argue with him. He didn’t have the time to argue; he needed to move now. ❝Let’s move, Cavill. Time’s running out.❞

                   ˜”*°•.      Information  had  always  been  a  fascinating  part  of  the  train  function.  Information  allowed  her  to  know  about  future  crises.  Information  kept  her  aware  of  problems  arising  but  also  of  solutions  spread  across  the  train.  So,  his  role ?  His  knowledge ?  It’d  simply  been  correct  information.  ❝ You  could  say  that. ❞  Was  her  mere  response  to  the  whispers  remark. 

Still,  it  didn’t  mean  that  his  every  request  would  be  positively  met.  Medical  records  often  hiding  details  that  the  Tail  -  or  anyone  beyond  specific  few  -  needn’t  be  aware  of.  Still ,  she  offered  a  small  nod .  ❝ I  will  send  someone  to  bring  you  the  plant .  As  for  the  medical  supplies,  you  will  make  a  list  of  everything  you  need  and  I  will  tell  you  which  ones  are  available. ❞  For  a  full  list  of  all  medicine  onboard ?  It  was  better  to  keep  information  as  limited  as  possible.  ❝ If  you  need  to  examine  the  patients,  we  can  provide  you  with  protective  equipment. ❞  For  risking  the  infection  of  potentially  the  only  person  capable  of  ceasing  this  disaster ?  It  would  amount  to  condemnation .

❝ My  precious  ecosystem  is  as  important  to  me  as  it  is  to  you . ❞  Everything  was  connected  on  this  train ;  from  the  tiniest  gear  to  the  engine  itself.  So,  this  virus  spreading  further ?  The  plants  dying ?  The  people  dying ?  It  would  reach  not  only  the  cars  surrounding  the  farm ,  but  the  Tail,  where  he  resided  as  well.  ❝ Your   daughter  will  be  fine  as  long  as  this  virus  is  kept  under  control . ❞  For  maybe  they’d  successfully  limited  it  to  the  greenhouse-cars,  however  how  long  before  it  spread  to  other  vital  parts  of  this  train ?  How  long  till  they  lost  people  from  production ?  Loss  of  food  supplies  only  capable  of  bringing  more  and  more  tension  in  the  lower  and  then  inevitably higher  classes  before  eventual  survival-issues.  ❝ Now  do  you  need  anything  else  with  the  body  or  shall  we  head  outside ? ❞

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

Asriel knelt near the body, his expression hardened, a mix of frustration and determination etched across his features. The stench of sickness clung to the air, mingling with the cold sterility of the room. His hand hovered just above the corpse, careful not to touch, eyes scanning for something—anything—that might give him an edge against this growing disaster. He stood, his broad shoulders stiff as he turned toward Melanie, piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. ❝You’re telling me I’m here because the Tail is expendable,❞ he said, his tone biting, though measured. ❝Let me guess—you’ve heard whispers of my useful talents back there.❞

He crossed his arms, glancing toward the enclosed patients, each a grotesque echo of what could spread train-wide. A pandemic on Snowpiercer wasn’t just a disaster—it was death. ❝Twelve cases in four days,❞ he muttered, almost to himself. He exhaled sharply, shifting focus back to Melanie. ❝You’re lucky I’ve seen worse before the Freeze. A fever that doesn’t break? Rapid onset? It’s a virus. Could be engineered—hell, could be from someone desperate to cause chaos. Either way, your paracetamol’s a waste of time.❞ His fingers brushed across the edge of his jacket, pulling out a worn notebook—one of his few remnants of life before the world froze. Flicking through pages scrawled with diagrams and half-finished theories, he glanced up.

❝This won’t be solved by me guessing in the dark. I’ll need full access to medical supplies, proper samples, and at least one healthy crop plant for testing. If I’m going to save your precious ecosystem, Cavill, you’ll have to trust me.❞ He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, biting whisper. ❝But know this—whatever loyalty you think you’re buying by dragging me up here? It only lasts as long as my daughter is safe. If I find out this is just another way to squeeze the Tail, there won’t be a train left to save.❞

@asrielbelacquaaaa sent: you're fucking kidding me, right?

                   ˜”*°•.     A  crisis  had  it  been .  A  crisis  she’d  tried  hard  to  conceal  -  people  onboard  did  not  need  to  know  the  weight  of  the  situation  just  yet,  after all.  Whatever  this  virus  was,  it’d  spread  across  the  farming  car  with  significant  speed  .  Twelve  people  were  infected  and  one  was  found  dead  that  morning .  While  the  unknown  nature  of  the  virus ?   It   meant  that  all  current  crops  in  Snowpiercer  were  to  go  to  waste.

The  other’s  words  got  her  to  look  at  him  momentarily.  To  bring  someone  from  the  Tail  here,  a  last  resort,  yet  a  resort  nonetheless. ❝ Does  it  look  like  I  am  kidding ? ❞  There  was  a  body  right  in  front  of  him  and  a  dozen  patients  enclosed  in  quarantine.  ❝ He  notified  us  of  fever  four  days  ago.  Ever  since  then,  the  cases  only  began  to  increase. ❞  Her  tone  remained  serious,  untouched  by  his  reaction.  ❝ They  all  have  fever .  We  tried  paracetamol,  aspirin,  yet  their  fever  will  not  drop.  ❞  The  variety  of  medicine  onboard  was  of  no  assistance  either  -  however  if  they  were  to  cease  a  potential  pandemic ?  She  was  willing  to  allow  experimenting.  ❝ Which  is  why  you  are  here. ❞ 

[asrielbelacquaaaa]

asriel’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching as marisa’s grip tightened on his arm. her words reverberated in his mind, sharp and unrelenting, each one a barbed reminder of the chasm between them. he stood motionless for a moment, staring at her with a mix of disbelief and anger, his breath shallow and uneven. his fingers twitched at his side, the urge to lash out against her accusations clawing at him. instead, he yanked his arm free, the motion abrupt and forceful, stepping back as though her touch burned him. the silence that followed was deafening, the tension between them thick as the stale air of the tail. she wanted to paint herself the martyr, the soldier of some righteous cause. he could see it in her eyes—the cracks in her conviction barely hidden behind the bitterness of her words.

he let out a harsh laugh, one without humor, shaking his head. his voice, when it came, was low and rough, barely more than a growl. ❝a mess we made together?❞ the echo of her words hung in the cold air as he turned his back to her, running a hand through his hair in frustration. his fingers brushed against the grime and sweat matted into his scalp, a physical reminder of how far they’d fallen from the lives they once knew. bitterness welled in his throat, but he forced it back. he wouldn’t let her see how deeply she’d cut him. he clenched his fists tightly, the motion grounding him as his thoughts churned.

this was the marisa he’d come to know—pragmatic to the point of cruelty, cold when warmth was needed most. the part of him that once longed to understand her, to fix whatever had broken between them, now bristled at her every word, her every hollow justification. he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression hard but not entirely devoid of pain. his shoulders rose and fell as he caught his breath, the rawness in his tone exposing the cracks in his composure. for a fleeting moment, his gaze softened, the anger giving way to something more vulnerable. ❝do you even regret it? or did you convince yourself it was all just inevitable?❞ he glanced away, shaking his head again as if dismissing the idea that her answer would matter. ❝believe whatever helps you sleep at night, marisa.❞ his voice was quieter now, laced with a resignation that stung as much as it soothed. the muffled hum of the train seemed louder now, a stark contrast to the silence between them. he didn’t look back—he couldn’t.

❝I don’t give a shit what you think.❞ ( opssss, on the train? before the train?)

Asriel’s jaw tightened at her cold dismissal, his blue eyes burning with barely restrained fury. The dim lighting of the car casted harsh shadows over his sharp features as he stepped closer to her, his voice low but brimming with venom. ❝You don’t give a shit what I think? Fine. But you damn well cared when it was convenient for you—when you needed me to clean up your mess, to pick up the pieces after you shattered everything.❞

He pointed a finger at her chest, his hand trembling slightly. ❝You abandoned Lyra. You abandoned us. And now you have the audacity to act like I’m the problem? Like none of this is your fault?❞ Asriel took a step back, shaking his head with a bitter laugh. ❝You can pretend all you want, Marisa, but deep down, you know the truth. You ran because you’re a coward, and you didn’t have the guts to stay and fight for her—or for me.❞ His voice softened, a flicker of pain breaking through his anger. ❝But don’t worry, I’ll keep doing what I’ve always done. I’ll fight. For Lyra. For the people down here who deserve better. And I’ll do it without you.❞ Without waiting for a reply, Asriel turned on his heel.