#lev and yara

[angelkissiies]

prophetic

abby anderson x scar!reader

cw : mentions of canon violence, injuries, canon doesn’t exist here, slow burn as fuck, literal bare minimum romance but like ,, you can feel it.

wc : 5.5k

a/n : i did NOT proof read this ,, i finished it at 4am and it was 11 pages. nooooo way. hope you enjoy !

The rain pelted you as you followed closely behind the boy, shielding him from sight as you pushed through the dense forest, hearing sharp whistles coming closer and closer no matter how fast you’d tried to run. It felt endless, the harsh scratches of the branches on your skin as you held the machete close- praying you didn’t end up having to use it. 

“Demons!” Lev whisper-shouted, altering you to the growling that seemed to be encroaching faster than the seraphites could- their hellacious moans of plea ingrained into your memory. He tried to ready his bow, pulling an arrow from his quiver before your hand rose to stop him- hand securing around his wrist. 

You shook your head, pointing ahead to the glow of fire in the distance, the area was populated solely by seraphites now- seeing as the treaty fell through. That meant even the smallest noise that could indicate human life would be used as a call sign, sending the hunters out. With a group coming in from behind you and no way to go ahead, you nodded towards the right path, that being the only one seemingly uninhabited. You loosened your grip, urging him to take hold of Yara and run.

Yara nodded swiftly, understanding your plan wordlessly. It was just like that between you two, spending so much time together growing up- despite the age difference, you could read each other like a book. “May she protect you.” She spoke in a hushed whisper, coming to take hold of Lev and practically drag him away from you. She didn’t want to leave you, but she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, choosing to trust you knew a way out of this. 

“May she guide you.” You whispered, not loud enough for her to hear as you bolted towards the left, hearing a sharp whistle follow your movements. The goal was to make as much noise as possible, draw them as far as you could from Yara and Lev so they could find a safe place to hide out. They were the ones the elders wanted most of all, your collaboration being shaken off as rebellious youth. If you got caught, your punishment wouldn’t be half as bad as the torture that awaited them back home. 

The rain picked up, soaking through your clothes as you flew blindly through the trees. You could feel the branches snagging your clothes, causing rips in the loose material before you came to a sudden stop- the whistling seemingly coming to an end as you panted. It was quiet, not even the growling of demons permeating the tense overhang of silence, causing your stomach to lurch. They knew you were here, so where were they? 

You got your answer as you felt two arms wrap around your waist, pinning your arms to your side, causing your machete to fall to the damp forest floor. “We found an apostate!” A gruff voice shouted, making your ears ring, their fingers digging into your skin hard enough that you began to feel blood trickle. “No more running.” 

You stifled a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. You knew this was bad, worse than bad actually, feeling another set of hands come to grip your left arm- allowing the first man to settle into the flesh of your right. You’d begun to make peace with the idea of dying tonight, your suffering surely ending in a much swifter way than they’d allow Lev or Yara. It was worth it, in your eyes, to die for such a cause. “The prophet abhors blind followers of evil.” You choked out, trying to dig your heels into the ground as they drug you back towards the fire. 

The man on the right snorted, almost choking on his spit as he laughed. “Don’t tell me what the prophet abhors, apostate.” He snarled, squeezing tighter as he pushed through a thick brush. “You hold no right to her words.” As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Your ties to the prophet being cut when you chose to leave, to search for freedom elsewhere. 

They pushed a thick branch out of the way, the harsh orange firelight blinding you as they came to a stop before a woman you recognized as Helah. If there was one person you’d always be able to find in a crowd, it was her. From her spindly arms to the mass of dark hair pinned to her scalp, she’d always sent a chill down your spine, now more so- her focus being on a girl struggling to keep her feet on a bucket just a tad too short, a rope tightening around her thick neck. 

Her impossibly dark eyes settled on you as she turned, letting her knife fall to her side as she looked upon you in contempt. “You.” She spoke, tilting her head as she came closer. With every step she took towards you, you could slowly begin to make out the splatter of blood that burned her unnaturally pale face- making you shift uncomfortably in the men's arms, from what you could gather- these bodies were her doing. “Your mother begged us to find you, to save you from the demons.” 

You winced at the mention of your mother, imagining her falling to her knees before the elders- begging them to spare the only daughter she’d ever come to bring full term. You tried to shake off the thoughts, knowing this was her game, manipulation being her weapon of choice. You couldn’t let her get the high ground, not knowing what could possibly come of her supposed ‘mercy’ as allotted by the elders. “The only demons I need saving from are you people.”

One of the men kicked your legs out from under you, making you fall forward as they finally relinquished their grip on your arms. The feeling of the moist earth under you was an almost welcome sensation if it hadn’t been for the words you’d heard slipping from the lips of the woman standing above you now. 

“Clip her wings.”

A horrified scream was ripped from your throat as you tried to scramble off of the ground, motions halted by hands pushing you back down- cheek pressed roughly into the hard ground. You could feel the rocks digging into your skin as you tried to wriggle away, harsh sobs falling from your lips. As a last resort, you cast your eyes upward, coming to connect with the dangling girl. 

She looked on in gargled disbelief, face turning an unhealthy shade of red as she held your gaze. What did they mean by clipping your wings? It wasn’t something she’d ever heard of in passing during the time of the treaty. Her stomach lurched, as she watched you closely, almost forgetting the fact that she was also fighting for her life. Though, she couldn’t manage to tear her gaze away, the horror in your eyes sending shivers down her spine. In those moments, it felt like time moved in slow motion, watching as the repulsive-looking man brought down a massive hammer to the joint of your elbow. The screams embedded themselves into her chest, every shrill, ear-piercing noise committed to memory. 

You couldn’t breathe, the white-hot pain filling your entire body as you felt him hand off the hammer. The shock had sent your body into a primal shudder, twitching uncontrollably as you tried to conceptualize the pain- you had to get up. You had to get up now. Your working arm was held down in place, dirty nails cutting into your skin, leaving you to try to use your broken one as leverage. “Oh, god.” You whimpered, the pain shooting into your shoulder with every movement. 

Suddenly, the man’s hand on your wrist went limp- the large hammer coming to land with an obnoxious thump on the ground by your head. The newfound freedom giving you the chance to pull yourself away from the other man, hand securing on the fallen hammer. As you turned yourself around, you saw the man lying with an arrow poking out from the back of his head, though your curiosity was short-lived- attention being caught by the short, struggling breaths coming from behind you. 

The girl secured her legs around Helah’s throat, holding her in place as she struggled with catching small puffs of air. You stared in amazement for a moment before sense kicked back in, pushing yourself off of the ground. The pain took a backseat to the problem at hand, legs trembling under your weight as you used your remaining strength to swing the hammer to wedge into the woman's skull- seeing her instantly fall limp, the girl letting her fall to the ground as she relaxed her legs. 

“Help me.” The blonde wheezed, eyes beginning to roll back into her skull, face turning a sickly shade of blue. The bucket was long gone, lost in the struggle between her and Helah, causing her to swing haphazardly on the tensed rope. The world was beginning to dot in black, pupils tiny from the lack of oxygen. She didn’t even have to grab the woman, it was a choice she made in the moment- seeing the way she delighted in the suffering of a seemingly innocent girl. Maybe it was her conscious dictating her actions, or maybe, it was a nagging voice in the back of her head- telling her that if it was her, she’d like to think you do the same thing. How she could know that was beyond her, it didn’t make sense logically, but it was enough for her. 

You nodded quickly, hissing as you grabbed your broken arm in an attempt to not strain it anymore. You eased yourself onto the ground, feeling around under Helah’s body for the knife she’d been planning to use on the girl. “I’m sorry.” You huffed, stifled breaths breaking your words as you finally found the blade. You got back to your feet, wasting no time in your sawing of the thick rope. It came apart with a harsh snapping noise, sending the girl onto the ground hard. 

Yara bounded out of the darkness, your lost machete in hand as she looked at the two of you frantically. “Demons, we have to go!” She rushed, motioning to the path leading left, Lev following her lead as she pushed forward. Her eyes tried to avoid your limp arm, the discoloration seeping from your joint down to your fingertips, guilt overtaking her. 

You nodded, urging them to go, as you looked at the girl. “Are you okay?” It was simple, something so seemingly meaningless, but enough to convey the appreciation you felt towards her. She was the only reason you weren’t dead, feeling absolutely sure that Helah would’ve ended you before your friends could save you. 

She nodded, pulling the rope from around her neck before dipping down to jerk the hammer from the woman's skull. “Can you still run?” She asked, hearing the noises of infected closing in. The last thing she wanted was to let you die, seeing as she now felt just as indebted to you as you did her. 

“Yeah, yes. I think.” You grunted, pulling your lifeless arm to your chest as you gave her a curt nod. “We have to go, come on.” 

The blonde eyed you for a second before giving in, giving you a small nudge forward as she took off in the direction of what she assumed were your friends. She could hear your slowed footfalls behind her, making her cut her pace to let you pass her. If anything was to catch up, she could handle them- but in your state, you’d be too easily overtaken. 

It didn’t take long for the two kids to come into view, their bodies moving nimbly through the trees as they seemed to have a rendezvous spot in mind. You didn’t even consider asking about their plan, focusing solely on just making it there- the mind-numbing pain being the only source of drive you had left. You stumbled, feet getting caught up on a root that blended into the dark earth, acting just fast enough to catch yourself on a nearby tree, your arm falling limply to your side. 

“I can carry you if you need.” 

You shook off her offer, panting lightly before pushing forward- not even able to grab at your arm anymore. Every breath rattled your body, sending indescribable jolts of pain reverberating through your nervous system, if you’d not known any better you’d have assumed this was what dying felt like- but you’d always been classified as the dramatic type, so you tried not to dwell on it. “I can make it.” You attested, not fully believing your own words, but pushing forward nonetheless. 

The forest felt endless, from blindly following Yara’s lead to dodging infected spewing from unknown sources- it was like it was trapping you here. In a constant state of suspended terror, you dragged behind, feeling the burly girl's unrelenting aura looming over you with every step. She was different from the other wolves, you’d gathered in your short time with her, her attitude about your situation border lining empathy. It was something you’d never expect from her kind, having spent most of your life running from their old-world weapons. 

“Here!” Lev called behind to you, seeing your figure slowly encroaching on the two of them, he wanted to run back to help but restrained himself- seeing the shadows morph into fungus-ridden figures trailing after the pair of you, he nocked his bow in preparation. 

The girl ushered you forward, turning her back to you whilst you slid through behind Yara, allowing Lev to enter before she followed behind him- making sure no infected managed to come in behind the four of you. Her hair was sticking wildly to her face, eyes blown with adrenaline as she pushed herself through the hole. “Where from here?” She gasped, catching her breath as she peered around at the three of you standing at a fenced-in gap. 

Yara was inspecting your arm silently, leaving Lev to speak on her behalf. “The fence, it’s new, we have to go through there.” He explained, his bow remaining tense in his hands as he watched the girl carefully. 

She nodded, coming to kneel next to the fence. Her hands latched in the lattice holes, grunting slightly as she pulled the wire away from the pole. She managed to get it loose, holding it open for the three of you to pass. 

“Go ahead.” You halted Yara, pushing her gently towards the exit, not giving her the option to object. Her eyes lingered on your arm before giving a hesitant step towards the hole in the fence, giving it a once over before getting down on her hands and knees to crawl through. “Lev, you next.” He bore no hesitation, following Yara’s motions. 

You bent down next to the girl, ducking your head through the hole and using your feet to push yourself out to the other side, hearing her mutter a soft ‘watch your arm’ unconsciously. You heeded her words and pulled the limb to your chest, holding it firmly in place as you found your footing again, only to be grabbed by a force strong enough to rival that of what you imagined a god could. A choked scream passed through your lips, cut off by the neckline of your shirt coming to press uncomfortably around your throat- whoever had you was using the fabric of your shirt to dangle you just above the ground. 

“Goddamn it, leave her alone!” Her gruff voice rang out, finally wriggling herself free from the fencing, coming to bring the hammer down on the person's knuckles. It was enough for them to release you, letting you fall to your feet, their attention now solely on the wolf. Something she didn’t mind, her abilities lying mainly in her uncanny strength, as you’d come to notice. She took in the massive woman, eyes zeroing on the straps of an oh-so-familiar bag that hung on her back- practically straining against her massive shoulders. It lit a fire in her, her fingers tensing over the handle of the hammer- tilting her head slightly. “Is that my fucking backpack?” She shouted, quickly dodging out of the way of her massive pick, and taking a few stunned steps back.

You stumbled away from the pair, whipping around just as Lev let an arrow fly- landing in the woman's shoulder- sharpened stone burying itself in the muscle, giving the wolf a moment to strike. It was like watching feral dogs fight, strike- yelp- strike. They both had the strength to overpower normal people, but when paired together it was one immovable force meeting another. 

The girl locked her hand in the strap of the backpack, jerking the woman back just as she struck- hammer embedded in her skull. It was like destroying a sand castle, her body crumbling right before you in a mass of blood and muscle, it took one hit. “Fucking hell.” She hissed, kneeling down beside the woman’s body to strip her of the backpack that was rightfully hers- not hesitating to retrieve the hammer either. “We almost there?” 

Yara nodded quickly, pointing towards a building marked with a large seraphite symbol. “I-it should be right through there,” She began, glancing around nervously, anticipating the arrival of more soldiers- or worse wolves. “We have to hurry, she might not make it much further.” 

The words sent a pang of guilt into your stomach, causing you to shake your head. “I’m fine, I promise. I can make it.” You assured, glancing over to the bloodied girl, not letting your eyes linger for too long. You didn’t want to be seen as a burden, even now with a lame arm, you could still keep going- you had to. It wasn’t for lack of trying, that your convincing words fell through, no it was the sight of your now blood-red fingers peeking out from your shirt sleeve that caused the three of them to share a look of concern. “Let’s go, now, before they catch up.” 

The wolf stayed close behind you, eyes trained on the crimson of your fingers as she racked her brain for a possible explanation. Her father being a doctor meant nothing in the long run, leaving her with a basic knowledge of injuries, not nearly enough to account for what had happened to you. “How’s the arm?” She hummed, not wanting to bother you too much in case her presence began to cause you to recoil from her, seeing how differently you two were. 

“Bearable.” You managed, doing anything to not think about the numbness that had begun to creep into your arm. You knew it wasn’t a good sign, seeing as normally when you got injuries- even bad ones, they continued to hurt. This was a new sensation, one that sent a dread-filled ball into your stomach. “Thank you, by the way.” You added, your dull eyes coming up to meet hers as you pushed a bramble push to the side so you could pass. 

She chuckled, the noise lightening the mood for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. “Don’t mention it.” She spoke quietly, coming to a stop in front of the warehouse ledge, lifting herself effortlessly onto the platform before turning to you- offering her hand. “Can I ask a question?” It was something she hadn’t been able to shake, the idea of ‘wing clipping’ being something regularly used in scar life, she wanted to gain perspective- though after she asked, she realized how bad a time this might be. 

You took her help gratefully, scaling the wall with minimal effort. Once your feet were back on solid ground you nodded at her, using your good arm to pull your lame one close to your body, trying not to hit it on anything. It had gotten easier to deal with the arm, though you’d begun feeling an uncomfortable chill creeping up your spine as the minutes dragged on. “Ask away.” You prompted, watching as she took hold of the latch- pulling the heavy metal off of the ground so the three of you could slide in under the door.

“Do the scars clip wings.. a lot?” She spoke once you’d all made it under, letting the heavy door fall closed with a ridiculously loud bang. Her hands came to her pants legs, wiping off the rust that had detached from the old metal, leaving red stains on the taut cargo. 

The words made you shudder unconsciously, the flashes of burning hot pain plaguing your memory. For something so recent, you could’ve sworn this ache was ancient, rattling even the strongest pieces of your will. “Seraphites, and,” You paused, shaking off the unwelcome recollections. “It’s not the go-to method of punishment if that’s what you’re asking.” It was mainly true, wing clipping being reserved only for the apostates they had no will to kill. Their goal was to maim them enough that they wouldn’t consider disobeying again, and usually, it worked. “It’s reserved for the ones the council decides to spare.”

Her brows knitted together, “Spare?” From her viewpoint, this seemed worse than death, the bones surely crushed into powder by the sheer amount of times she man brought the hammer down onto the joint. The memory made her want to crawl out of her skin, hammer suddenly feeling much heavier, the screams being the worst thing she’d ever heard in her life. “This is what they consider sparing people?” She wanted to say more but stopped herself, not understanding why she cared so much about the goings of scars. 

“I’m just glad to be alive.”

She nodded, finding that a good enough reason to drop the conversation there. “Grab any supplies you find, okay?” 

Lev almost choked on his own spit, looking at Yara and then at you. “We can’t touch this stuff, it’s old world.” His words hung in the air between you as you gave him a half-shrug. His mouth snapped shut before he turned on his heel, using the tip of an arrow to move stuff on the tables around- your reply wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t dare to fight against it. 

You came to stand with Yara, her hands trembling as she thumbed through different stacks of old material. “You okay?” You hummed, swallowing thickly as her glossy eyes met your own, indicating she was nowhere near it. She was such a strong girl, pushing aside her emotions for the sake of others. She was so good at it, it had become her fatal flaw. 

She nodded curtly, dropping her eyes back down to the sheets of fabric, stuffing them in her pocket haphazardly. “I’m sorry, sister.” She whispered, doing everything in her power to keep her voice steady. “I went back for your machete, I... I thought I’d be able to get to you in time.” She turned on her heel, coming to face you fully, tears brimming her dark eyes. “I was wrong.”

The sight made your stomach twist into knots, free arm coming to wrap around her shoulders gently- pulling her small frame into your chest. She’d been the sister you needed through childhood, becoming the closest thing to blood you had besides your mother. It crushed you to hear her blame herself for something that should've never had to happen, the blame falling on the group you’d once thought was home. “She sees your love, she doesn’t blame you. Neither do i.” You hummed, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid letting the brimming tears escape, ignoring the faint feeling that had crept into your head as you held her.

A cough drew you from the embrace, causing you to turn in response- the movement almost knocking you off of your feet. “We found a way forward, might even be a couple places to rest.” The wolf spoke, nodding towards a door Lev stood by, seeing it barely hanging onto its hinges as rain droplets slowly raced down the corrupted frame. “Are you feeling okay?” She spoke suddenly, not letting you fit a word in before stepping forward, the back of her hand coming in contact with your forehead. 

You almost took a step backward, your heart jumping into your throat at the heat of her touch. It felt like she was on fire, her skin burning into yours as she spared Yara a nervous glance. “What’s wrong, why are you so hot?” You asked, tearing away from her touch with a slight tremble in your legs. You brought your own hand up, pressing it to your forehead in the same manner she had- pulling away quickly, finding your hand coated in sweat. 

“You have a fever, we need to get you out of here, now.” She pushed forward, not letting you object as she scooped you into her arms- careful to not crush your arm further. This was something she knew wasn’t a good sign, meaning you’d contracted an infection or worse. 

The sudden change left your head spinning, the body heat radiating off of the girl making you uncomfortably hot as you writhed in her arms, fighting in a sense. Not against her but against her unbearable heat, though in your eyes currently- they were one and the same. “You’re so hot, wolf, I can't breathe.” You knew she wasn’t doing this out of malice, quite the opposite actually, but sense evaded you in your current state. 

She pushed through the doorway, eyes locking on a trailer on the far side of the yard- her feet picking up pace as she held you firmly in place. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” She managed, on any other day she would’ve made some tasteless joke about her being hot, but she settled on this not being the time for it. She could feel your body shuddering, still trying to fight off her warmth as she practically broke down the trailer door- kicking it open so hard it left a door knob-sized hole in the panel wall. 

Lev followed closely behind her, closing the door behind Yara to avoid drawing any more attention. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asked gingerly, putting his bow to rest on the dusty countertop. He knew the wolf didn’t seem like a healer, so she probably wouldn't know, but it was worth it to at least ask. 

The girl gently let your body press into the moth-eaten couch, her arms sliding from beneath you with ease. “Can I?’ She asked, nodding to your arm, seeing the purple tint your fingers had taken on in the time it had taken the four of you to get out of the woods. A nod was all she needed, her hands coming to your arm. 

One hand held your wrist, and the other pushed the linen of your tattered long-sleeved shirt up past your elbow. As the extent of your injury came to the light, nobody moved. The air felt stale, not even a ragged breath cutting through the anxious silence. You glanced down, the sight drawing a sharp gasp from your mouth, dark red pigmented your skin down to your fingers, which now took on a darker more purple hue. It looked like something a child would draw, devoid of all sense of tone, hung high in some disease-ridden home. 

“I can set it, That might help.” The wolf spoke, eyes betraying her thoughts as she glanced up at you, trying to make it less scary. If maybe by some miracle this could work, she’d try just about anything. “Let me do that, okay?”

You didn’t even think to object, giving her a tiny nod. “Yara, the cloth.” You spoke, looking between her at the girl. “That would help, right?” You checked, having the most inept idea of healing from your time spent sneaking around the healer's hut for herbs. 

Yara dug into her pockets, drawing out a handful of thick strips of cloth- immediately placing them into the hands of the girl. “I can go find more if we need more.” She rushed, watching closely as the girl turned them in her hands. 

She nodded, “This is perfect, thank you.” She gave the younger girl a tight-lipped smile, kneeling beside the couch. She brought the chair leg to rest on her knee, popping the fabric on top of it, as she placed her hands at the wrist and just above the elbow. This was going to hurt, a lot, and the only way she could think to do it- was by distracting you. “What’s your name?” 

“It’s-,” You began, only to be met with a harsh crack and a searing pain filling your arm. From your fingers to your shoulder, it felt like someone had sent you through initiation again, fire licking at your skin. “-My god!” You hissed in response, a choked sob escaping your trembling lips. 

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” She shushed gently, letting your arm come to rest on the cushions as she picked the chair leg up- fitting it to your arm. “You’re gonna be okay-?” She drew out, waiting for you to finish your previous sentence 

“(y/n), my n-name is (y/n).” You forced through the pain, breathing labored as you felt her secure the wood to your arm- straightening it permanently to let it heal. You had no idea if it would work, but you chose to trust her, not considering the fact that she might have just been lying for the sake of your comfort. “What’s yours?” 

She smiled slightly, finishing up her work, letting her forearms come to rest on her knee. “Abby.” It was like some switch inside of her had flipped, all thoughts of her original reason for coming out here being lost in her subconscious, heart jumping with anxious beats at the idea of leaving the three of you here- but she had to go, much to her dismay.

“Abby.” You repeated sluggishly, getting a feel for it on your lips, earning a small chuckle from her. “Thank you, Abby.” 

Abby stood, glancing between the two kids standing off to the side- looking visibly relieved. “I have to go, try not to make any noise. '' She warned, knowing the wolves had not cleared this area of infected yet. If they needed to be scared of anyone, it was the flesh-hungry infected that ran these woods. The ache to stay threatened her chest, forcing her to move faster. She pushed out of the door, halting on the wet steps as she turned on her heel- coming face to face with the boy she now knew as Lev. 

“Listen, kid. Whatever shape she’s in, you need to be out of here by tomorrow.” Her words came out rushed, her hand digging into the door frame as she loomed over him, watching as his lips set into a thin line. She didn’t know what else to say, already conflicted enough, so she just took a step back. “Don’t let her die because you wanted to be a hero.” 

╰╮later

The night passed in a blur of delusion-filled hallucinations, the pain creeping back into you when you least expected it. So when the light of morning poured through the tattered curtains, you thanked the prophet for the ability to even see another day- having thought many times you’d just die with the next flutter of your eyelids. 

“Here, drink this.” Yara hummed, holding a small water bottle up beside your head- waiting for you to part your now chapped lips. Her hands shook slightly, letting the liquid drip out of the bottle slowly to avoid making you choke. She’d not slept, spending the night hovering over you just to be sure you were still breathing, making her even more cautious in her pouring. 

You swallowed the water gratefully, feeling the ache in your throat dull slightly with the moisture. “Thank you, but really, try to rest before we have to leave.” You pleaded, eyes glossed over with the usual maternal worry you reserved for the siblings. “It’s gonna-,” 

Your words were cut off by the door swinging open, Yara immediately reaching for Lev’s bow on the counter her hands moved faster than you could follow, nocking an arrow and letting it fly in just seconds before a familiar voice called out from behind the door. ‘It’s me!” They began, slowly coming around the corner, face flushed. 

Yara let out a stressed breath, watching Lev rise from his sleep with a confused expression on his face. “On the prophet, have you heard of knocking?” She huffed, letting the bow fall back onto the counter as she crossed the room to collect Lev’s (definitely broken) arrow. 

“Abby?” You spoke quietly, voice hoarse as you gazed up at her approaching form, her name still feeling foreign on your lips. “What are you doing here?” 

The blonde shook her head shortly, kneeling down by the edge of the couch- leveling with you, letting her gaze rake over the sickly flush of your face. “You deserve a shot, (y/n).” She spoke, bringing a hand to rest on your uninjured one tenderly. “I’m here to give you one.”

[sweetyluvs]

i love yara so much. I feel like people overlook her but she didn’t deserve to die. I appreciate her so much she was so kind and forgiving and gosh i cried so hard when she died i had to stop playing and get water. Ily yara always and forever <3!

my beautiful, sweet, kind girl. she’s so cute. look at her holding the shark she was gonna give lev :(

[millsheat]

just found out lev name means light in latin. and when abby quotes her dad at the seraphite island, she mentions that he used to say: “when you are lost in the darkness, look for the light.”

which is a firefly phrase. when abby was lost in the darkness, she found lev. she found her light. her something to fight for.

[urmomssidehoe69]

I wanna give lev and yara a warhead and a blue mountain dew 😀

[abbysthighs]

I love these "Lev as the main character" shots!

[h3llofaday]

!!!Them!!!!

[elliescardcollection]

The Island

[elliespuns]

How come we still don't have any news on who's gonna play Lev in Season 2?

You tell me, dude. I am still waiting.

But for what it's worth, there are rumors that Lev and Yara may only appear in season 3. People believe it's because season 2 should only cover the first half of the game. Which would explain why the actors who will play the characters have not yet been revealed.

Another hypothesis is that they could appear as a surprise in the last episode of the second season.

[seven-eleven-slushie]

What if i said Lamb siblings variants?

[agirlking]

#shoving this at every TLOU stan who still think joel is a hero#dude was fucked up and so were ellie and abby and that's the POINT (tags by deanpinterester and THANK YOU I was about to reblog this with this because ‘Or they argue that the collateral damage didn’t really happen, or that the negative outcomes weren’t really that bad actually, and thus miss the point altogether. ‘ is literally describing what the fandom did for yeaaaaars. And it’s why TLOU 2 got so bashed on, it didn’t validate their entirely made up headcanon about how Joel did the unquestionably right thing, and instead followed the narrative it created in a completely sensible way and explored how wrong and fucked up it was. Joel is so fucking awful.)

People think "gray morality" in fiction is about Both Sides Are Partly Right Actually but so much more often it's about choices having inescapable negative outcomes that have to be weighed against the benefits, or it's about having to choose between a series of bad options, or it's about making hard decisions about what you are willing to sacrifice to achieve the outcome you believe is good.

So often, I seem to see people angry that a story in a video game didn't present a Good Option with no collateral damage and no negative outcomes whatsoever, and if there are any downsides it's seen as the writers punishing you for the decision, because they see the primary purpose of stories to be moralizing rather than exploring the complexities of human experience. Or they argue that the collateral damage didn't really happen, or that the negative outcomes weren't really that bad actually, and thus miss the point altogether.

And I feel like it's important to remember that a narrative telling you a decision is difficult is not the same thing as the narrative telling you it is wrong.

[angelkissiies]

california dreamin

abby anderson x reader & lev

cw : fluff, mentions of trauma, slight angst, abby and reader have a pre existing relationship and have practically adopted lev.

wc : 1.6k

The California heat was unforgiving, sending heavy rays of sun onto your back as you sat on the deck, looking out into the vast ocean that surrounded you. From your spot, you could make out the beginnings of the shoreline, the idea of having your feet back on solid ground giving you hope- but also sending a sharp pang of anxiety into your stomach. Though you knew the WLF and that girl were long gone, the fear they instilled in you remained. You found yourself rounding every corner expecting them to be there, expecting the freedom you all had created to be squished yet again. It made you ill, the thought of going back.

“You okay?” Lev asked, nudging your leg with his elbow lightly. He was still pulling apart the twine, fingers moving out of memory from all the times he'd done this exact thing back in Seattle. He’d been adamant about his fading belief in the prophet, though it was still a part of him he held dear to him- feeling as if it connected him more to Yara, even now.

You nodded, quickly, shaking the thoughts from your head as you glanced down at the pile of wood shavings that had begun to accumulate under your knife. You’d been whittling some twigs you’d found on your last excursion on land, making them more uniform for your craft project at hand. “Yeah, all good. Just thinking.” You hummed, shooting him a convincing smile. You tried to keep your worries to yourself, reading somewhere that sometimes babies can pick up on their parent's emotions. No, Lev was not a baby. No, you weren't his parent- but surely it worked the same way right?

He snorted, shaking his head as he focused back in on the twine, pulling the strings into smaller- more manipulable pieces.

“What?” You asked, turning to him, a faux serious expression resting on your face.

Lev shrugged, glancing over at you. “You’re just a bad liar. I know you’re scared, (y/n).” He said simply as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“Who’s scared?” Abby popped up, pushing the door closed with her foot as her hands were full of plates containing the fish you all had managed to catch earlier- she’d taken it upon herself to cook considering you and Lev had managed to catch more fish than her.

You shook your head, scooting over to make more room for her, brushing the wood shavings off of the side of the boat before she noticed them. She was big on trying to keep the place clean, considering you had so many more weeks before you were even close to Santa barbara. “Nobody,” You began, making a point to stick your tongue out at Lev, who scrunched his nose in response. “That looks really good, Abs!”

Abby set the plates down in front of the three of you, silently praying the wind kept behaving- not wanting to have another incident. (That being when the wind picked up one night the three of you were having dinner and lev’s fish flew right off of his plate and back into the water. He almost cried.) “Okay, fine, keep your secrets.” She teased, her usually sandy blonde hair glowing a much lighter color from the constant abuse from the sun. It suited her, in your opinion.

You clicked your knife closed, tucking it into your pocket before picking your fork up- pulling apart the fish on your plate. It had taken some time, honestly a lot of time, before you’d gotten your appetite back. After weeks of living off of Seattle rain, nuts, and fear- you’d lost the ability to feel hungry, the idea of eating sending you right back into that survival headspace. You somehow had begun associating the most normal human need with the trauma you’d endured, the two going hand in hand when you thought about it more- which you tried not to do. “Any luck with that radio?” You posed the question, nodding back into the main cabin just down the stairs. When you’d gotten the boat from the aquarium, it looked like Owen had begun working on the radio, leading you to think maybe you all could figure out a way to finish his work. It would make contacting the fireflies much easier.

She shook her head, taking a sip from her water bottle. “No, I think it's too busted to work. The wiring is all fried, looks like it is from a power surge or something.” She explained, her soft gaze coming to land on you. Throughout this whole trip, she’d wanted to give up. It took everything in her to not turn back around and just give herself back to the only life she’d really gotten to know, the grief she battled was enough to eat her alive. The only way she’d made it this far was by leaning on you, opening herself up to your unwavering support, because no matter how strong she prided herself on being- it didn't keep the nightmares away as you could. She’d found solace in your arms.

“Well, I mean, that's okay. We’ll still find them.” You smiled up at her, finding yourself losing the air in your lungs as you finally got a second to take her in. Yes, you’d seen her before now- but it was different. In the slight shade from the sail, she seemed to be glowing. Her hair was sun-bleached, freckles dark on her cheeks, skin tinted slightly pink from the heat. It was a new Abby, one you’d gotten the pleasure of calling your own. She’d shed her old skin, coming back as a completely new person as she tried to heal through her trauma, aiming at creating a new life for you all. “How long do you think it’ll be before we get there?”

Lev interrupted before Abby had a second to respond, “No more firefly talk while we eat, gonna make me have an attack of panic.” He huffed, stuffing another forkful of fish in his mouth as he eyed the two of you.

“A panic attack, Lev.” You chuckled, giving him a soft nod to agree to his demands. He hated having to talk about the future, constantly wondering if you all would live to see that day. While you and Abby tried to avoid talking about the subject, there were times when it felt necessary. Now, it wasn’t- so you left it at that.

“That's what I said.”

Abby laughed, her eyes crinkling as she looked towards the boy affectionately, he’d been the beginning of all of this. A revolution of her life, sending her on the right track towards her future, which in every right was being here with you two. She really couldn’t see herself being anywhere else with anyone else. Every day she wished Yara could see him, how much he’d grown in such a short time, how strong he was. All traits he got from her. “How’s crafting going?” She hummed, nodding down to the shavings you’d missed.

Lev was noticeably piqued at the question, pushing his empty plate aside gently before moving to show her the pile of twine he’d collected from just stripping the fibers apart. “Look!” He spoke quickly, dipping into his pocket to collect the symbol he’d completed earlier. “It’s holding up really well, considering the twigs aren’t very bendy.”

She smiled, plucking the prophet’s symbol from his open palm gently. It always intrigued her, and she found herself almost opening up to the idea of letting Lev tell her of the prophets writing. Though, admittedly, she wasn’t the religious type. Her father always preferred to raise her on logic and science. “This looks really great, actually.” She praised, running her thumb over the smooth curve of the wood. She glanced over at you, seeing how your legs were covered in tiny shavings, before chuckling. “Can I help?”

He nodded, pulling another bunch of twine from his other pocket, and holding it out for her to take. It was like he could hold just about anything in his little cargo short pockets, once pulling a frog from them- much to Abby's dismay. Though, in his defense, he didn’t know she was scared of frogs. “(y/n)’s good at whittling, so you can help me.” He explained, taking the symbol and placing it back in his pocket.

You finished off your food in a hurry, the familiar resistance growing in your stomach, if you didn’t get it down now- you feared it would come back up later. You recovered quickly, making it seem like you just wanted to get back to whittling. “I think I’m average at whittling, plus, these sticks are tiny. Only so much damage you can do.” You joked, pulling your knife from your pocket as you got back to work on the stick you were working on. It was significantly larger than the others, seeing as you were aiming to make it bigger.

“Don’t undersell yourself,” Abby tutted, eyes narrowing as she gave you a once over. Her hand outstretched to grab your plate, stacking it with Levs before putting her own on top. It was a bad habit you had, making your skills seem less than they were, she’d noticed it back at the stadium but through the weeks of sailing, it had only gotten worse. She’d begun to think it stemmed from a fear of disappointing them, and not living up to the nonexistent standards they held. “It looks perfect, pretty.”

“Yuck.” Lev faux gagged, side-eying the two of you as he laughed lightly.

You reached over to playfully punch him on the shoulder, taking the attention off of your embarrassingly red cheeks. “Get over it!”

“You guys are so gross.”

“Lev, are you being homophobic?”

“Don’t say that to him, Abby!”

“Home-of-phobic?”

[eyesfullofsttars]

[millsheat]

i hope they’re gonna explore yara and lev’s storyline in the following seasons—especially the last days that led them to escaping the island. we get the story from yara but to have that told through lev’s eyes would be so interesting. sad as hell, cause it’s neil but interesting.

[urmomssidehoe69]

Writers please write more with lev and yara PLEASE 😭 I love them so much I want to see more of them

[abbysthighs]

That outfit makes me feral.

[thetipsybison]

Tlou text posts coz I'm funny

Ellie's one seems like an attack 😭