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ladyblackbirdart · 2 months
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“May your survival be long”
So like, I have an addiction to drawing Abby Anderson with her hair down. Which also means she may not be as easily recognizable but here’s my pretty girl ♥️♥️
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Childhood Headcanons
These particular, sort of apocryphal headcanons (depends on who believes what after all) provide further context for the brothers' childhood under the constraints of my canon-divergent fic, "When Lightning Falls," that was proved wrong by canon after the release of Fall.
There's also an accompanying Creation Theory I made up, to provide context for the fic, which becomes especially relevant here.
And, if anyone's wondering, this post has been around for far too long—I just never posted it some while after the fic itself was done. I have a lot of stuff on backlog anyway, and figured I may as well edit and post this.
Note:
Most of these thoughts focus on Rafal, and there is a slightly dark undercurrent that runs throughout this post.
First, the brothers were originally foundlings, like in the fairy tales of yore.
Fittingly, they have been the youngest and the oldest beings ever to live at the School, at different points in time.
At first, they led a deathly existence, an insecure, unstable one, with potential death at every turn.
Rafal became used to death threats, and being called "demon spawn." He hardened in response. Ever townspeople tried to ward him off, but their feeble sigils did no good, did no true harm against him and his latent sorcery, even whilst he was still learning magic.
They were found, possibly, doddering around in the Woods, on the outskirts of the School, at somewhere from three to five years old? So, they conveniently have little to no memory of their existence beforehand, as vagrants, outcasts, rejects, waifs, who knows—they were alone in the world.
The twins crashed through the brambles, clothes torn, faces scratched, scrapes on their limbs, drenched by the rain, just... waiting to be taken in like strays, as if they simply... appeared.
Rhian trailed after Rafal who forged a path ahead, until they emerged in the light of a clearing, as if guided by the hand of fate, to the School for Good and Evil.
Shortly after their discovery, they became the youngest students to ever attend the school.
Of course, taking them in was the Good thing to do, but perhaps, if we let conspiracy run rampant, the Storian had a hand in the proceedings.
Oddly enough, the Pen just might have brainwashed all the faculty to come to the unanimous agreement of raising the brothers as their own, among the lot of them. How odd that they agreed for once, the one time in decades that Good and Evil have agreed on any matter.
It was probably done for the greater fate of the Woods, the way they were all swayed by the Storian, nearly unconsciously.
And so, they came to terms with the new status quo because there seemed to be something behind this decision of the Pen's, that was greater than they could ever know, or so they believed.
They accepted it. They didn't question it because it was so obviously the Storian's doing. Controlling their minds that had already been made for them. No chance to decide for themselves.
But, they let the Storian handle it, handed over all control to the Storian. Because, no one, not even the highest ranking sorcerer or fairy godmother of either School, or lord or lady could have taken issue with what the Storian did. No one went against it. No one could. Contradicting it would have been a death wish just waiting to happen.
And they all knew that. They knew that very well, considering the nature of the tales they taught.
Eventually, they came to the common conclusion that these children must have been their future School Masters.
Thus, they took the Storian's apparent decision to heart because it wasn't their place to step in.
No one could overrule the Pen, so they lived with it, and continued to train the mysterious, foundling brothers—while they worried for their lives and all that was to come.
That particular set of faculty became a little like the brothers' parents, until they died off, one by one, each from old age or the occupational hazards of working at such a School.
Their professional lives were demanding and they didn't pay as much attention to the brothers as they should have.
All they could do was follow through and hope the Pen had charted the right course, that it chose well in the end.
Even if they would never live to see the future, they were aware they had played a monumental role in securing safety and balance for the Woods, by acting as these children's first, human influences.
"When Lightning Falls" takes place around three years after the brothers' arrival, when they're about seven, so they've had time to have grown used to the schools.
Everything has become a bit mundane to them. There's nothing new because it's all they've ever known and grown up with, unlike the incoming students' experience of the manor every four years.
So, they've never been around peers their own age, which led to Rhian feeling special and becoming fragile with no challengers and to Rafal gaining a massive superiority complex.
During those years is when Rafal starts on his skepticism, early in life.
Rafal starts to question the Pen, and ask why of everything and everyone that can possibly answer him, or that would answer him if he persisted and probed enough, and didn't relent. And he threatens his way to the answers, to get his way, to figure out what makes everything in this world of theirs tick.
It's the only way he knows, to bribe or exchange, even unethically, or to beat and to hassle information out of others, to trap them in their own bedchambers or offices and not release them until they answered him or fulfilled his demands.
He learned the word "leverage" early on, and the Evil faculty thought he was a prodigy.
He doesn't know any other way because the Never faculty took him in first, claimed him as one of their own. They took a liking to him and his silence, over his crybaby brother.
Predictably, the Never faculty were rough around the edges and they never showed displays of pleading and begging, so Rafal never did that, even as a child.
He never learned the art of apologizing either. Everyone was remiss to let that pass by... but it was too late.
He refused to resort to such means as begging, to lower himself in that way, like Rhian would, even at such a young age, because he wasn't taught mercy. He was told kindness was a weakness and that justice was right. And so, even as a young child, he maintained an adult-like level of dignity in how he conducted himself, always.
Meanwhile, he'd look on at his brother, and wonder: why is he acting so childishly? Having Evil imposed on him forced Rafal to grow up sooner, before his time.
Evil taught him never to whine and whinge, to never cry to get his way. He could already get his way, by other, more sinister means. Cleverer, more artful, more guileful means besides, and in doing so, he could still feel superior, boosting his ego, inflating it and inflating it as a result.
So, that was what he'd grown up around. It was the natural way of things, to him.
At least, this is how children ought to be treated in his eyes, simple as that. And he turned out fine, didn't he? Of course he did. No question about it. He's him, and he's great. The best. Superior to all others, everyone else in his school.
He probably considered himself the smartest little boy alive, not necessarily the most knowledgeable, but the most clever or capable of outwitting others, of negotiating deals, and plotting schemes and doing other, crooked deeds. He thought himself smart in that artful sense, skilled to the point that he could outfox adults over twice his age, outdoing the teenage students in everything he did.
Oh, and if certain knowledge were established as forbidden? Rafal would still try all the more diligently to go after it. That's how he contended with all things.
And what of Rhian? To Rafal, Rhian was naive. Secretly, Rafal never considered Rhian his match. No way, no how. That brother of his couldn't tell Good from Evil in the simplest of challenges.
The Evil faculty were decently well-meaning, thinking Rafal would be good villain material, but again, they weren't exactly attentive or warm or caring like Good's faculty was in "parenting" Rhian.
They weren't neglectful either, but still, Rafal was left to his own devices outside of lessons, and he grew accustomed to being alone when Rhian wasn't around to play with him. Not that he really played that frequently.
Thus, time passed, and the staff believed the twins to be foundlings. That they were adopted, taken in under their wings. Children of the School.
In reality, the twins were children of the Storian.
Everyone��knowingly buys into the lie because they didn't want to think beyond the present. They wanted to believe the brothers were of woman-born, abandoned, and insignificant. But, the truth could only be delayed, not buried.
The brothers are foundlings, they all said, persistently. That's what most of the faculty believed, and that's what the brothers were led to think.
Yet, a select few knew their actual purpose of existence: the brothers were not being trained up to follow the Rules of fairy tales themselves—they were being trained up to rule. (Or rather, "rule" as figureheads for the greater Pen.)
They were bound to the School grounds, and only a few people, none in living memory, knew they belonged to the Storian...
Any thoughts anyone?
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angelkissiies · 1 year
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CLOSE CALL
pairing : abby anderson x reader x ellie williams
cw : canon violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of alcoholic beverages, a little more angst as seasoning.
proof read : yes | no | kinda
a/n : this is taking place in jackson, joel is alive and well. ellie and abby are good friends and the world is still gross and infected but a little more peaceful.
word count : 3.8k
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The crisp morning air bit at your fingers as you held your rifle to your chest. It was only 5am and you found yourself walking alone outside of Jackson's walls with nothing but a gun and a place in mind. It sounded like a good idea in your earlier state of delusion, but now as you trekked towards the abandoned ski lodge- the regret crept in. As much as you enjoyed the solitude of the lodge, something kept nagging at you to turn back. A voice in your head was screaming, but the forest remained silent. No infection, no people, no danger. So, despite your self preservation instincts begging you to turn around, you continued to push forward.
“Goddamn I hate this hill.” You huffed, coming to a stop in front of the town's lookout tower. The road to reach the lodge went directly through the heart of the tiny town, taking you along through the ancient routes of people long forgotten. Though, the sentiment wasn’t enough to keep you from hating this place. Through the past few years living in Jackson, you’d had quite a few secret rendezvous outside of the walls, most of which took place here. With it being the most easily accessible, empty, town- teens quite enjoyed the trek. Especially when it led to what was now duped, ‘the love shack.’ A,K.A. The only house on the block that still had a bedroom intact. One that you had fallen victim of more than once with all the wrong people.
Though, you weren’t allowed a moment to dwell on your regrets as your ears tuned into the familiar sound of infected. Their growling sent your body into flight mode, and before you could even figure out where they were, you began to run. “Fuck.” You hissed, hearing the sounds grow nearer, as you ducked into a cluttered alleyway. The nook was nestled between two old apartment buildings, giving the illusion of an escape route. Yet, as you pushed your way through the maze of old, rotting trash from years gone by- the only hope was to crawl on top of the dumpster and into one of the broken windows of the building.
As you pushed yourself up, ignoring the possibility of more infected- or god forbid, worse- being inside this unmarked and unsearched building, you took half a second to recall the patrol schedule for today. A monday, early morning- Abby and Ellie. As always. Whilst that gave some comfort, you had to focus on the situation at hand- not the possible rescue from the girls you’d been actively avoiding. Now, It was not knowing or death and for once you chose the former. From the eyeline on top of the dumpster, you caught a small glimpse of a pack of at least six infected running directly past the alleyway in search of a meal. For now, they seemed to be off of your trail but surely, your luck would run out eventually. So gingerly, you swept the glass shards from the window seal, avoiding giving away your position, before stepping into the wrecked studio apartment.
From a glance, you could tell that someone had really loved this place. There were remnants of posters and artwork that hung on rusted nails, torn into pieces from the years as they wore the paper thin. The walls had taken on a dusty green color from the pursuit of moss but before, it patched together in a shade of blush unbeknownst to most people who had passed through this place before you. It was enough to let your guard down, to slow your reactions as the world felt a little gentler in that moment.
What a mistake.
Before you could even take a breath, the hands of something unknown to you had wound its hands in your hair, violently jerking your head back to access your arteries. It had been completely silent, giving you no time to reach for your gun that you had let rest against the wall.
“Fuck! Get the fuck off!” You screamed, attempting to grip the mutated stump that posed as a head. It growled, something deep and raspy near the lobe of your ear, sending a jolt of undeniable panic into your bones as you struggled to get the upper hand. You couldn't die like this, no, you wouldn't die like this. So with a harsh kick, you threw your leg back against the stalker's kneecaps, sending the being onto the floor and promptly allowing the smallest of windows to unravel yourself from its grip.
It was going to work, you were almost free, when a gut wrenching noise echoed out through the building. Clicking. From this distance, you couldn’t tell how many there were, but from the sounds of it there was more than one. Anything could’ve happened on this short trip, but somehow it just happened to be the absolute worst thing that could've happened on any trip. Survivors' luck, right?
You couldn't open your mouth, the idea of alerting the clickers too much for you to handle. So you had to maneuver silently, using what strength you had left to keep your grip on the stalker's throat- which in turn kept its mouth arms length away. You didn’t have much on you, as you thought this was just going to be a short day trip to the lodge, so you made due with the things you had. Things being a ballpoint pen that was nestled into your front jacket pocket, just within reach.
Suddenly, gunshots rang out. Startling yourself and the creature vying for your flesh. Giving you just enough time to grab the pen and jam it into the eye socket of the stalker, shoving it as deep as you could with the palm of your hand before it finally slumped over- its weight collapsing completely on top of you. With a shove, you rolled the thing onto the floor and found your footing, smoothing your hair down as you grabbed your gun and catapulted yourself out of the clicker infested apartment building, throwing no hesitation to your fall onto the iced over ground.
“Abby, behind you!”
Oh fuck.
You dodged through the mounds of trash, throwing yourself back out onto the street. The scene was quite what you expected, seeing the two girls dismounted from the horses slaughtering the infected that you had just been running from.
Abby noticed you first, her eyes widening before moving back to look at Ellie. “Uh, Els. Don’t look now but we have company.” She grunted, throwing the infected off of her and crushing its skull with her boot. It was one of the last ones, the other being nestled in Ellie’s arms- head disconnecting from its spine.
She didn't hesitate to spin around with her gun aimed directly at you, arm slacking gently once she realized it was you. “(Y/n), what the fuck are you doing out here?” She chided, tucking her gun back into her waistband, moving her hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. Her brown jacket was now splattered in blood, adding an intimidating aura to the woman as she zeroed in on you.
You didn’t dare look over to Abby, the idea of the both of them staring you down with such vexation making your knees weak. “Nothing, I'm doing nothing. No need to worry.” You assured, keeping your destination a secret as you shifted your weight from foot to foot. You had made a show out of avoiding the two women within the walls of Jackson that now you had no escape from the uncomfortable tension that saturated the air as you spoke.
Abby approached slowly, eyes skimming over your body before they landed on the semi-hidden splatter of blood by your neck. Not even to mention the bruising that had begun to develop in place of the stalkers ravaging fingers. “Is that blood?” She asked, raising a hand to brush your hair back, away from the harsh contrasting blood against your skin.
“What happened, are you bit?” Ellie voiced her worry, moving to your opposite side, eyeing Abby’s hands as they moved to scour the area for any signs of infection. She was one to worry, after all, her immunity protected no one but herself- which made it hard to stay grounded when the possibility arose.
“No, no bites. I'm fine.” You responded, attempting to wriggle out of Abby’s soft yet firm grip. “Seriously, I handled it. No need to worry.”
The women exchanged a look before Abby turned her attention back to you, “That aside, you are not supposed to be out here. We have to take you back.” She stated matter-of-factly, her arms winding back to cross over her chest. The tan jumper she wore pulled at the seams, stretching to account for the tensing of her muscles as she moved.
An exasperated sigh left your mouth before you could control it, earning a sharp look from the girl to your right. “No, I'm sorry guys but I'm not going back right now. I’ll head back in when I'm done.” You stated firmly, moving to turn away from the women, only halting when a hand clasped around your wrist.
Ellie’s grip was tight, not tight enough to hurt you though.“Done with what exactly?” She questioned, her green eyes piercing into your soul as you spun around to face her. You were now stuck between the two of them, avoidance paying into the situation you found yourself in now. “Where were you going?”
You internally kicked yourself for saying anything at all, shaking your head as you jerked your wrist back. Taking a fleeting step backwards to gain some distance, despite the situation at hand- the glow in her eyes took you back to that night.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ begin flashback ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
The haze in the bar hung low as people chatted back and forth about town and social matters alike, the sheer volume deafening as you took another sip from the glass of whiskey before you. It wasn’t your drink of choice but between that and Seth’s homemade hootch- you’d make due with it.
Ellie and Abby sat at a booth on the other side of the room, chatting about god knows what, as they sucked down shot after shot of something you didn’t quite recognize. You tried not to stare, as everyone knows it's not polite, but there was something so captivating about seeing the two of them so happy. So much so that you took to stealing glimpses of the pair, not letting yourself linger too long incase they began to notice. Ellie was wearing a long sleeved green top, the sleeves shoved up to rest around her forearm exposing her tattoo. The sight made your stomach twist, watching in awe as she challenged her companion to an arm wrestle.
Abby happily obliged, knowing she would win. She always won, with her arms three times the size of Ellie’s even whilst relaxed. So she braced herself on the tabletop, stretching her fingers out before locking hands with Ellie. Her soft dirty blonde hair framed her face, leaving you unable to makeout what she was thinking or even feeling in the moment, so you tore your eyes from the sight.
“Hey, (Y/n).” Joel settled beside you at the bar, motioning towards Seth for a drink. He was still chilly, his jacket shedding snow as he shrugged it off and laid it on the seat beside him.
You jumped slightly at the greeting, not expecting someone to actually acknowledge you in your preoccupied haze. “Hey,” You began, your brain moving faster than your mouth. “Joel, hi. What’s up?”
The man chuckled lightly, accepting a glass filled with a dark liquor from Seth’s hands. He took a sip, grimacing, before turning his attention back to you. “Hey yourself, how long have you been here?” He questioned, noting the way you’d been nursing the glass before you. Not many would’ve noticed the way the glass's condensation had created a puddle on the bar, nor how your fingers had pruned slightly from the way you’d been gripping the wet glass. But Joel did, he always did.
“Too long, I think.” You admitted with a shaky laugh, moving to wipe your hands on your pants. It was true, you’d been sitting in your own delusion fueled haze for what felt like nothing. “What time is it now?”
Joel flipped his wrist, checking his watch before turning back to you. “Just about eleven. What’s keeping you, honey?” He asked, finishing off his drink in another fast sip. He coughed lightly, shaking his head as he pushed the glass away. Not even he could stomach more than a little of the homemade bunch. “Why aren’t you with your friends? I saw Ellie when I came in, she’s with that girl- Abby. They seem to be having a lot of fun.”
The mere mention of the duo in the corner made your stomach flip, in a good or bad way- you hadn’t yet decided. The truth was, you’d come to realize you’d harbored feelings for the women, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Their presence made you nervous and the idea of being alone with them felt like you might actually stroke out (lucky eugene, you found yourself thinking). “I-i couldn’t.” You managed, taking a harsh gulp of air before letting your head fall down to rest on the wooden bar top.
“What’s going on with you? You used to hang out with them all the time, right?” He halted, mind running with ideas to figure out what could possibly be keeping you from the company of the women you called friends. “Did they do something to hurt you? Is that it?” He knew it was unlikely, the two being pretty tame in nature, but he wasn’t willing to knock anything out- seeing as your usually bubbly personality had been replaced with a dreary, anxiety ridden one.
“No, no. Never.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, needing to make sure that he knew that it was you. They’d done no wrong, you just couldn’t get past your stupid crush on the duo. “They would never hurt me, They’re too nice. Even Abby, though she seems really mean.” You paused, hesitating as you glanced over at the man.
“Joel, can I ask you a question?”
The man nodded, turning his body to look at your barely noticeable eyes peeking up at him from the bar. “Anything, shoot.”
“Do you think someone is capable of loving two people at once?”
The question had been weighing on your mind, the possibility of you being able to encapsulate that much love in your one body was unlikely. So did it exist? The ability to have fallen head over heels for two people instead of one? You found yourself daydreaming about a life you could share with them, a long life bursting at the seams with love. How could you ever expect to recover from the longing that had engrained itself inside of you, fusing with that makes you who you are.
Better yet, how could you ever not love them?
Joel hesitated, his eyes momentarily darting from you to the girls who sat unknowingly at the center of attention across the room, and for once- things finally started adding up. “Well, sure.” He began, nodding along as he spoke. “I mean at one point it wasn’t believed our bodies could hold so much water. People used to say that, that was too much- but it was true. So, how can we deny the ability for our bodies to hold that much love?”
His words weighed on your heart, the familiar anxious thumping picking up as you found yourself looking to him for help. “I don’t know what to do, Joel. I’ve never felt this way and everytime i look at them- it starts all over again.” You gushed, quieting for a moment before finding the words you had wanted to say the entire time. “I’m not sure what falling in love feels like, but from what I can tell, I feel something like it when I see Abby.. and Ellie.”
A cough drives you from your reticent confession, ripping your eyes from Joel to figure out who might've had the balls to interrupt at such a time. That was, until your eyes landed on two people instead of one. Two women, THE two women you had just confided in your close friend about.
You saw stars with how fast you jumped to your feet, moving to dodge the extended hands that attempted to deter your departure. “Fuck me.” You groaned, throwing open the door to the bar before sprinting out into the snow.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ end flashback ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
“The Lodge.” You gave in, pointing up to the ski lodge that sat snug at the top of the hill. Doing this, then gave away your personal haven- but for the chance to escape this situation, you’d do just about anything. “I was going there to clear my head.”
Abby hummed in acknowledgement, following your eyes up to the massive ski lodge, it was easily a full day's walk with the way the snow had piled onto the roads. Though, she didn’t quite expect you to know that, considering you usually kept inside the safety of Jackson's walls- tending to the farm animals and harvesting crops in the fall. She liked that about you, you didn’t go putting yourself in danger if you didn’t have to. “You wouldn’t have made it there before dark, you know that right?”
With a sigh you shrugged, avoiding being too close to either party as you shifted your weight from leg to leg, distracting yourself by any means necessary.
Ellie groaned, crossing her arms tightly across her chest as she looked at you. “Okay, out with it. I'm sick of this.” She began, giving Abby a glance as she began to step forward towards you. “We heard everything, yes, but that is no reason to avoid us. I mean-,”
“No, Ellie, you can’t just tell me how I can feel about this.” You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head as you took another step back. “I wasn’t ready for you guys to know, I mean fuck! I was barely ready to know myself.”
The rush of emotion led you to back up directly into Abby’s solid chest, successfully trapping yourself between the two women. If the unexpected intervention wasn’t overwhelming enough, now you had every reason to allow your eyes to well into tears. Their usually bright demeanor being hazed over with a lul of sadness. The two people you valued most in your life witnessed a moment of vulnerability and now you felt they hated you for it, or worse, they were disgusted with you by it.
“Hey, hey.” Abby cooed, hands landing on your shoulders to swing you around- facing her now as the tears began to race down your cheeks. There was nothing holding you back now, the wall was broken- truth splayed out for everyone to see. “Look at me.” She spoke, her left hand sliding under your chin, tilting your head up to look her in the eyes.
The sight was almost enough for her to lose her composure, instinctively wanting to pull you close and wipe away the tears that now streaked down your blushed cheeks. She restrained herself though, using the pads of her thumbs to gently swipe the cascade of tears from your jaw. Abby wasn’t the softest person, in fact- most people in Jackson referred to her as emotionless, but as she stood before you something inside of her felt the need to deaden around you- to create a barrier between the world and you. Something inside of her yearned to protect you, even if it was from herself.
“We wanted to talk to you, that night. After you left, Joel told us everything.” The woman explained, nodding over to Ellie.
Ellie nodded as well, moving to rest her hand on your waist. The contrast of touch was making your head spin, firm and soft. Loving and protecting. “It’s true, I tried to follow you outside but it was snowing too hard. I lost you.”
The tears had slowed, your glossy eyes moving from one girl to the other- searching for the unsaid words they had been dancing around. “I don’t understand, why?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes searched Ellie’s for an answer.
Say it.
Please, god, say it.
“We want you.”
“We want to be with you too.”
Your head spun, the words falling from your lips in the form of an inaudible gasp. This wasn’t real life, there was no way that this was real life. Things never work out so well, the girl never gets exactly what she wants- so what was the catch? What was about to be thrown at you in exchange for the love of two women who meant more than the world to you.
“What?” Was the only thing that left your mouth, making Ellie release a small laugh in turn.
Abby chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully before dipping down to your height and pressing the lightest kiss to your lips. It was a mere brush, but the sensation sent a chill down your spine. Her mouth lingering before yours for a couple more seconds, allowing her breath to fan across your face- giving birth to the bursts of color in your cheeks. “I’m with you.” She whispered, taking a step back.
The empty space was quickly filled with Ellie, her smile sending a pang of nerves into your stomach. Her touch was gentle, but beneath the facade, you could see the restraint she was showing. Ellie’s nimble hand slithered around to the back of your neck, the other placed firmly on your collar bone before she pulled you into her. Her kiss was rougher than Abby’s, the surprise falling from your mouth in the form of a small whimper- in which Ellie devoured gratefully- But just as it began, it ended. She pulled away from you, letting her forehead rest against your own. “I'm with you.”
“We’re together. What the fuck.” You laughed, partly in disbelief and partly in delight. The anxiety you’d been harboring dissipated, being replaced with waves of adoration for the women before you. How was this real life? It didn’t even matter anymore, real or not. Staying or fleeting. You’d take what you could get.
Ellie chuckled lightly, glancing back at Abby before checking her watch. “C’mon. You’re on patrol with us today. If we have time at turnover, we’ll head up to your lodge.” She stated matter-of-factly, motioning towards the horses that shuffled back and forth in anticipation. The feeling of momentary bliss refused to fade, engulfing those around you in a haze of new love.
Today was day one of many more to come, and whether it was for the better or for the worst, they were with you.
a/n : part two following the events of the lodge? smut would take place then, let me know your thoughts on a continuation !
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messrmoonyy · 9 months
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Abby Anderson | Hostile Territory
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alyandajgifs · 1 year
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sleepytownzzz · 27 days
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here’s the giveaway drawing i did for @stop-right-there-criminal-scum ! —owen! 😇🦭
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abbysthighs · 7 months
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Waiting for the clickers to take them out.
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ellabism · 3 months
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why does no one dive deeply into people finding out about ellie's immunity?
in the games they say all the time that ellie needs to keep her immunity a secret because they'll kill her, but i don't think people would kill her. i think that if people saw hardcore proof of her immunity (through surviving a bite or, most likely, breathing spores and surviving) i think people would be more inclined to want to kidnap her and experiment on her, no?
i think if people or groups were to see solid proof of ellie's immunity, it would be very dangerous to her as an individual, but they wouldn't just kill her in my opinion. they'd turn her more into a lab rat to be honest.
basically, i think someone should write a fic where the seraphites or WLF (mostly the seraphites, i think they'd be more intrigued) find out about ellie's immunity and capture her for testing and experiments.
and abby, now apart of the firefly group again, is ordered to go find the immune girl and bring her back to camp to finally create a cure, but unknowing to abby, it would be more difficult to retrieve her than she thought.
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daisys-buckley · 3 months
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Replaying TLOU2 and I’ve just noticed an adopt a kitten poster in the stadium 🥺
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rumi-luna · 1 year
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The Last of Us Part II :))
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WLTW/FLTF Pride Flag
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WLTW/W4TW (woman loving trans women), FLTF/F4TF (fem who likes transfem or fem4transfem), FLTW/F4TW (feminine liking trans woman), or WLTF/W4TF (woman who loves transfems): equaric transfemaric (including homoamorous) and/or transamorous sapphic (transaffectional wlw/flf/flw/wlf); a term for feminine folks and women attracted to and/or in a relationship with trans women and/or transfeminine folks.
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adamssketchbooks · 29 days
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Grisella Lounging
Digital Sketches
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ellies-enrichment · 7 months
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abbysleftbicepp · 3 months
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Does anyone want to be tagged when I post the enemies to lovers fic??
Side note how the fuck do I tag people it literally won’t let me 💀
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shepickedyoutotakeme · 4 months
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abbysthighs · 9 months
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So thoroughly gay.
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