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#isaac protection squad

kasplonkable · 2 years

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Isaac Lahey Hcs

Hey gang! I started rewatching Teen Wolf again, and I want to write about one of my favourite werewolves (sorry Remus). Anyway, this ended up being kinda angsty, hope you enjoy!!

he can’t stand the taste of coffee. It’s way too bitter for him, even with milk and sugar in it

he drinks tea though. He gets a lot of headaches around the full moon, so drinking ginger tea helps sometimes, but he can’t drink too much of it. Because of that, his second favourite tea is green tea

while he didn’t love working at the graveyard, the peace and quiet was nice. It was an opportunity to just sit and listen to his music, away from anyone who wanted to judge or hurt him.

a literal heater. He’s that one guy who wears shorts and a thin coat in the dead of winter

despite this, he absolutely loves jumpers and sweaters. Especially oversized ones that he can hide in. He keeps certain ones for when he’s having a bad day, so he can just bury himself in all the soft material

when he has a panic attack (which is often), he usually ends up grabbing one and curling up into a tight ball in the corner of his room

he makes sure that when he does, he keeps the door and window wide open. On one hand, he doesn’t want anyone to see, but his fear of being locked in far outweighs his embarrassment, and so the door stays open.

people think he’s this really sporty guy because he always takes the stairs, but it’s really because he can’t stand the idea of being trapped in the lift

after finding out about this, Scott takes it upon himself to challenge Isaac to race up the stairs. Stiles just takes the lift and meets them up/down there when they’re done

his favourite subjects in school are maths and French, because they just seem to make sense to him. For him, the numbers are easy to follow, it’s a bit like a puzzle, the logic behind it is fun

it’s for this reason he enjoys languages too. the similarities and differences between ones that have the same root language are fascinating to him, and he manages to pick them up really quickly. It was really useful when he moved to France, since he already knew a little and was more than willing to learn.

when he first met Boyd and Erica, his first thought was “oh fuck, they’re hot”, but he never said anything. He never really had the opportunity to explore his sexuality; between school, working at the graveyard, and hiding from his dad, he never really thought about it, and becoming a werewolf only added to the drama

it ended up being Erica who brought it up. It started off as a joke, just a light-hearted comment at Derek’s bus/den/hideout (literally what is that place?)

it was late, but close to the full moon. They were all way too antsy to sleep, which lead to an interesting round of late night confessions.

they cycled through the expected ones; Erica’s epilepsy, Boyd’s social anxiety, and before long they realised they all had a bit more in common than they had first realised.

that’s when Erica flippantly said “y’know, I think we would have made a pretty hot couple” “couple? Which one of us” Boyd questioned, looking between Isaac and Erica. “All three of us, duh” “oh.........oh”

and the rest is history

that was actually one of the only good parts of being with Derek, since it became kind of reminiscent of his time with his dad. He though life would get better once he left, but it was all pretty similar, what with the broken bones and emotional abuse

going with Scott was the best decision he ever made, although it’s not like he actually had much choice with Derek kicking him out the loft

for the first time ever, he actually felt like he had a home

I can’t help but feel like he was one of those kids that would just absolutely light up whenever something mundane happened

like, a bumble bee flying past him, or finding the park full of small daisies

when he was really young, his mum taught him how to make daisy chains, and he made one for everyone in his family

his dad ended up throwing his away, claiming “boys don’t play with flowers”, which resulted in an argument between him and his mum

whenever their parents would argue, Isaac’s older brother would distract him, either with a new video game, or the cool tree they could climb in the back garden

when their mum died, everything changed. Cam went to the army, and his dad...well, we know what his dad did

Cam coming home every now and then was some of the only relief Isaac had from his father. His dad wouldn’t try anything when he knew Cam was there

when Cam then died too, Isaac spent more time in that tree in the garden, but he no longer picked daisies

I think it’s only when he’s older and living in France, that he walks past a flower stall, and stops to buy a small bunch of daisies to put in his window at home

almost like some kind of memorial. A monument to his survival despite everything

And I think I'll leave it there for now!! Sorry it got a bit angsty at the end there, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. I want to write another list like this one soon, but with exam season coming up, it might take a little while. Feel free to send me some suggestions though and I'll check them when I can!!

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gucciboots · 2 years

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Episode 6 spoilers!!

THIS SCENE. I bawled ONCE AGAIN.

Can we talk about how Steven replies with “it wasn’t that little.” !!! He heard absolutely everything when Marc opened up to him even if he was claimed by the Duat 🥺

These two will ALWAYS have my heart 🫶🏼

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dragon-chica · 11 months

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Creep Alert - Teen Wolf Preference

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Because someone has made me very uncomfortable at weekly pinball and I would like to take Theo.

Stiles: Okay he's not always the most observant person around, he will be talking to himself trying to figure something out or keep walking not realizing someone else has come up and gone all up in your space. When he turns about and you are visibly uncomfortable he RUNS back, trip/sliding between you and the guy pushing his hand off. Might have yelled "CREEP ALERT" on his way over, mile a minute talking asking if you're okay, did they do anything? name drops that he is the son of the sheriff and can get that guy written up for harassment. "Do you want to file a report on him? I'll call dad right now. Don't you go anywhere, we're not done here- PARRISH!" Spots a squad car and shouts over (it was not Parrish) and it becomes mess. But it certainly did the job.

Scott: Good of heart, dumb of ass. Despite his wolf instinct telling him to destroy the threat, he comes over the moment your scent turns distressed. He comes up right next to you with a comforting hand on your arm and inserts himself into the conversation. Genuinely not realizing this guy's intentions or what's going on besides you're uncomfortable and asks what's going on. Usually he's enough to diffuse the situation, but if someone's persistent he'll instead have you both leave.

Lydia: Has been in this kind of scenario too many times that she sees it coming across the room before anyone talks to you. She's learned exactly how to handle herself, either sweetly or with words that cut. Or if she had a 'big, strong, man' to handle it for her. Lydia's at your side immediately, telling them you're not interested and how far she'll shove her heel up their ass.

Liam: Sure, mess with the S/O of the werewolf kid with IED, that's a good idea. He doesn't usually stray far from your side but a few steps away was enough for someone to take his spot and feel a little too comfortable getting in your space and questioning you. His gaze shoots to you as discomfort sours your scent. He speeds over, eyes flashing gold and getting right in their face with you behind him. Not afraid to get physical if they want to keep it up.

Also if it's Brett coming to flirt with you, either because he's a slut or just to try and piss Liam off and you really are uncomfortable with his advances, all bets are off. Claws are out and he wants blood, it's a whole scene.

Isaac: At first it's a little harder for Isaac to come to your rescue, even though he's a werewolf now he's not used to the kind of confidence of doing something like this. You were always the one to try and protect him, and never faulted him when he didn't come to your defense, just trying to make sure you were okay after.

But now he's a werewolf, he can do better. He stronger. Intimidating. Despite everything, he still had to psych himself up walking over to you, who is obviously uncomfortable. He's not sure how to insert himself, but he is quite noticeable and doesn't have to do much. Being so much taller (and chest puffed) than your pest, they take the smart move to leave. Visibly deflate and swallows after that interaction and asks if you're okay. Gets bashful when you call him your knight.

Malia: No filter and very brash. People have thought of messing with her but the energy she gives off and feral look in her eye is almost always enough to deter them first. You though, are not so lucky. Already very standoffish, once she sense someone is making you uncomfortable she is staring them down and growling, barely keeping her claws in even as they leave.

Derek: He normally is overprotective of you, usually you just roll your eyes at his worries. But you certainly feel safe with a scowling sourwolf beside you. Until he's gone a few minutes too long and someone thinks that's their chance.

When he sees someone crowding in on you he's speeding right through the crowd and shoving them backwards hard enough to make them stumble and once they're thoroughly scared shitless by his hardened stare to flee, he's trying to get you to leave grumbling how "we never should have come here anyway."

#Teen Wolf x reader #Teen Wolf imagine #Stiles Stilinski x reader #Lydia Martin x reader #Isaac Lahey x reader #Liam Dunbar x reader #Derek Hale x reader #Malia Tate x reader #Scott McCall x reader #my stuff

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lizzie-is-here · 10 months

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lonely is a man without love

part vii- choice

“hug me like the night holds the moon” - alexandra vasiliu

summary: fighting egyptian gods honestly isn’t that bad, especially when marc and steven look so good in their suits

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: language, violence, honestly i think that’s it, not much fluff but i’ll make up for it in the last part i promise

a/n: thank y’all for being so patient with me, this isn’t the last part, there will be one more bc i want the moon boys to meet the avengers 😏 also wondering how oscar isaac feels knowing he’s played some of the hottest characters to exist bc my miguel obsession is concerning 💀 i hope y’all enjoy, love you all sm, have a great day 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-your-cookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit @vainillasmil157 @doublevirgogirl @boofy1998 @seninjakitey @khaleesihavilliard @gaypoetsblog @letmehavemyfictionalmen @bitchotine

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“That’s fucking disgusting,” you murmur to yourself as three bullets fall out of your slowly-healing wounds.

Coming back from the dead was remarkably unremarkable, you think. However, the sensation of ammunition leaving your body on its own was rather unpleasant.

Heaving strained sighs, you wring out your hair as you make sure the room is empty.

“Ok, Taweret, what now?” you ask.

You don’t expect your body to seize up, and for her voice to leave your throat as you uncontrollably spew words.

“There will be an opening in a nearby wall to where Khonshu’s ushabti is at the Chamber of the Gods. Do you see it?”

You gasp, coughing from the intrusion. A few yards away, the bricks open, revealing a shady tunnel with glowing hieroglyphs. You still don’t fuck with small, dark, magic tunnels. But, you suppose you don’t have much of an option.

“Alright. I’m going in.”

The tunnel opens up to a massive chamber, and you can see Harrow and his team at the entrance, confronting what seem to be more avatars. You sneak past in perfect silence, weaving through tunnels on an instinct you suspect is controlled by Taweret.

Finally, you reach a wall of lamps. In front of each one is a tiny statue. Scanning each one, your eyes land on one that seems newer than the others.

“Surprise,” you singsong. “I’d recognize that ugly face anywhere. Now what?”

The same uncomfortable sensation takes over your voice.

“Smash it on the ground, it’ll free him.”

You raise the ushabti above your head before hurling it with some personal spite. It shatters on the floor, and the fog that emanates from it rises into a form.

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world,” he announces. “He died fighting, no doubt.”

You raise a brow. “Yeah, no shit. Doing your dirty work.”

“It’s far from over. If Marc is truly gone, I am in need of an Avatar. Would you protect the travelers of the night-“

You wave your hands, cutting him off. “Would you shut the fuck up? I’m already Taweret’s temporary Avatar. Go resurrect Marc before I get Wanda to curse you.”

The god disappears in a cloud of dust, and you hear his voice echo from the main chamber. You listen in silence before a loud beeping interrupts.

When you look down at your gauntlet, the small screen displays words that make you audibly groan.

“Shit, shit shit shit,” you hiss, hurrying to the main chamber while also desperately trying to hang up the call. “Not the time, Nat!”

As you turn a corner, you come face to face with a squad of Harrow’s followers, and in your panic, you press the wrong button.

“Hey (Y/N)!” a chorus of voices say. Team dinner, shit again.

“Sorry guys, kinda busy right now!” you shout back, shooting down three people as you whip out a baton.

Wanda’s voice calls out through the fight.

“I felt your heart stop, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

Grunting, you throw a man into the wall before hopping on a woman’s shoulders to fling her backward.

Sighing, you tap the gauntlet, projecting the call so you can see their worried faces gathered around the phone.

“No biggie, I died for a little bit, but I’m all good.”

At the instant outburst, you wince. Probably should’ve chosen different words.

“Маленький паучок, ты такой мертвый, когда вернешься домой [Little spider, you’re so dead when you get home]!”

You roll your eyes, brushing off the term of endearment. With the room cleared, you run out of the Chamber of the Gods, right out the front of the Great Pyramid. Left and right, Harrow’s followers are judging the souls of civilians. Great. More headaches for you.

“Shit, kid. You need me and Buck to come over there?”

“He’s right, I’ll kill whoever did it.”

Firing blasts of energy from the gauntlets, you start taking down as many fanatics as you can. You’d rather not shoot them, but it would be easier, you have to admit.

“Did you at least die in a cool way?”

“Yelena, not the time.”

“C’mon, Cap. Let her have her fun.”

“Don’t start with me, Tony.”

“Guys!” you yell over the arguing. “I’m fine. We might have a new recruit, too. If he gets revived.”

Yelena gapes at the phone.

“You died together? Wow, pretty serious.” She wiggles her eyebrows as you strike down a man trying to grab at you. “Have you two kissed yet?”

You blush. “…Yes.”

The loud reactions have you cringing, but the blonde assassin grins.

“Awww… That’s disgusting. But I’m happy for you!” She shoves the phone to a very worried Natasha.

The redhead sighs as the team goes back to lighthearted bickering.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

You duck behind a corner, catching your breath. “Yeah, yeah Nat. I promise. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

She nods, and with one last goodbye, ends the call.

You slump against the wall you’re hidden behind, groaning and mumbling curses. When you peek out, you see a giant crocodile goddess swallowing souls.

“Oh, wonderful,” you sigh. “How the fuck am I supposed to fight that?”

“I have an idea!” Your voice says, once again not your own. “Plus, it comes with a rather fashionable outfit.”

Coughing as Taweret invades your senses, you shake your head. “Sorry, I don’t do those weird superhero costumes.”

“Please? It has wings- Ooh, and swords!”

“Ok, how about a compromise,” you suggest. “Just add the wings and swords to my suit?”

Apparently, the goddess is happy with that, because large metal wings form down your back, glinting silver in the candlelight. You can feel the handles of swords under them. When you wave an arm, the corresponding wing follows your movements.

“Oh…” you chuckle. “Sam’s gonna be SO jealous.”

Your moment of pure glee gets interrupted when a small white blur flies by, carrying a screaming man along.

“Ah. Glad to see you back, idiots,” you whisper to yourself, preparing to run over to where they fell. Instead, the wings boost you up onto the nearest building.

Taking a moment to balance yourself, you quickly adapt to the feeling of gliding on the metal wings and swoop in in time to kick Harrow’s ugly face before he strikes Marc.

Marc takes you in. The wings, the smirk on your face, the fact that you’re okay. He can’t help but be amazed.

When Harrow tries to strike again, you cross your arms, repelling the blast with the wings.

“Marc, are you-”

You get cut off by a tight hug and a kiss planted on your forehead.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, almost like he doesn't believe it. His hands hold you like you’ll disappear. He barely pauses before pulling you into a kiss, tension leaving his body as he sighs against your lips.

You smile. “I’m alright, it’s okay.”

In a flash, his suit changes, along with his voice.

“Wow, you look amazing. Where’d you get the wings?” Steven asks.

“Hi, Steven,” you chuckle as you turn. Harrow is finally standing up from where you knocked him on his ass, and dozens of his followers have gathered.

Steven perks up. “Hey, I’m really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have.”

It’s impossible to not grin at his antics. “Alright, let’s see it.”

You both break into a dead sprint, with you using the wings to boost you. The new swords fit perfectly in your hands, becoming deadly as you combine them with your baton training, twirling and twisting the blades as you slash through men.

When you turn around to check on Steven, you see Marc instead.

“It’s good to know you two are getting along now,” you chirp before charging forward, cutting down whoever you need to to get to the man at the center of it all.

You strike Harrow’s staff with both swords, tag-teaming him with Marc. You make a deadly combination. That is, until he slams the staff on the ground and sends you flying,

He holds you down, hand raised above you, before Steven tackles him away, leaving you to catch your breath.

The fight only escalates from there. Marc and Steven switch seamlessly, leaning into each others’ strengths. They fight Harrow to a standstill, holding him back from wrecking the world. Usual superhero stakes.

You, however, are preoccupied. Namely with ripping the doors off of vans and helping civilians.

A purple glow blooms behind you, and you can spot Marc holding back Harrow’s magic as you rush pedestrians away from the area.

Blocking bullets, you dive back into the fight as soon as you clear the area. But you don’t get far.

A stray blast of magic throws you to the ground. Hard. You groan as the tingling, nauseating feeling rushes over you. Your legs are too shaky to get up.

When you fight to raise your head, you see Marc. He took the brunt of the strike, evidenced by the crater he lays in. Harrow is stalking closer, raising his staff above him. When he brings it down, you can see the power leaving Marc’s body.

And you can’t have the first boyfriend (kind of? maybe?) you’ve ever had die before he even takes you out on a date.

The brick you hurl at Harrow hits his knee with careful precision, and he stumbles. With a vicious kick to his ribs, you knock him far enough away to help Marc up.

But it’s not Marc.

His suit may be the same, but the eyes are different. More tired. His posture is guarded, and the way he holds the crescent dagger is more offensive than defensive.

He says nothing as you head into the fray. Whoever he is, it’s the same alter that was on the roof in Cairo, and he’s ruthless.

Steven fights with blunt weapons. Marc fights with knives, but more on the defensive. Whoever this is… He fights like you.

You fight in tandem, whittling down Harrow’s strength until eventually, you break his staff over your knee and whoever’s controlling the body nearly kills him with the force he uses to take him down.

His eyes roll back, and Marc returns.

The fear in his eyes is enough to know that he has no clue what happened. He stands with your help, shakily surveying the area.

“That wasn’t you, was it, Steven?”

The other man fronts effortlessly, gripping your arm a bit tighter.

“Not a chance, mate,” he gasps.

“Whoever it was,” you say. “He’s been hiding all this time. And he’s definitely more violent than either of you.”

Far away, Ammit begins dragging an unconscious Khonshu away. You curse under your breath, watching the two giant gods disappear from your sight.

You turn to Marc. “Get Harrow. I know how we can stop Ammit.”

Dragging an unconscious man is easy work for him, and Marc tosses him onto an altar inside the Chamber of the Gods with little regard to further injuring him.

The chamber may be destroyed, but the magic still lingers. It’s residual energy, and takes a while to dissipate, you’ve learned. You’ve stumbled into Wanda’s red swirls and had horrible flashbacks for hours too many times to not learn your lesson.

“If you can imprison a god in a statue, why not a person? The power in this room should help us bind Ammit to Harrow’s body.” You glance up to the ceiling. “Taweret? Got a spell for us?”

Instead of losing control of your voice, you can hear her in your mind, merely guiding your actions.

You nod after a few seconds. “Ok. She says to take my hand, and we can start the spell.”

The strange sensation is back, and this time you’re chanting in Egyptian, hardly understanding the words as a lavender glow wraps around the room.

It circles the statues of the gods. For how destroyed the room is, they’re still intact. It completes the loop, leaving Marc’s hand and ending in yours.

A lavender haze streams from the ceiling, funneling into Harrow’s mouth as his eyes snap open.

“You can never contain me,” he says, voice overlapping with Ammit’s. “I’ll never stop.”

Khonshu appears next to you. You’ve grown used to it now, barely reacting.

“Finish it,” he growls. “And leave neither of them alive.

As Marc stands above Harrow, knife at the ready, your stomach twists.

“While he lives, so too does she.”

“I have to finish this,” Marc whispers to himself. “If not, I’ll never be free.”

You furrow your brow. “Marc. You are free. This is your choice.”

Khonshu cuts in. “The choice is vengeance. We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again.”

“Now you sound just like her,” Marc says.

He drops the man on the altar, and your heart swells.

“If you want them dead, do it yourself.” You can’t control the smirk on your face as he stares the god dead in the eye.

Right before he speaks again, he glances at you for reassurance. You nod.

“Now, release us.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #moon knight system #moon knight tv #moon knight #marc spector moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x fem!reader #marc spector x fem!reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector #steven grant x you #steven grant moon knight #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant #moon knight system x reader

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deepouterspacecandy · 1 day

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Spared

I intended to write a short drabble about Abby being immune to Cordyceps, but alas, it morphed into approximately 5k words right before my very eyes. How does this happen? Anyway. I appreciate your presence, taking the time to read these fragments of my mind. Thank you for being here. I hope you enjoy. This is a darker, more angsty, gore-filled journey and, as always, it’s intended for 18+ audiences only. Violence and sexual themes.

A man on a mission, Dr. Jerry Anderson devoted himself to eradicating the plague that wreaked havoc on the world.

Developing a vaccine against Cordyceps consumed his life.

In their quest for answers, people would come from all corners of the globe, hoping to be included in his trial. Despite undergoing countless procedures and surgeries in a desperate pursuit of a cure, most patients tragically succumbed to the treatments themselves or to their initial infections. As the years passed and resources became scarce, his experiments progressively lost their footing.

Mere weeks before his untimely demise, Dr. Anderson conducted his last trial on a patient. The experiment unfolded in a way he never anticipated.

After receiving the injection, the patient, without previous exposure to the virus, experienced a perplexing mutation, developing far more than immunity to the perils of infection.

She possessed the ability to communicate with it and maneuver through it, like a ghost.

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

“You wanted to see me.”

Isaac extends his arm, signaling for you to have a seat at his desk. He swirls a decanter filled with a rich, dark liquid before pouring it between two sturdy glasses.

With a jarring crack against the maple surface, Isaac sets one glass before you.

“I don’t drink,” you say.

As you bring the potion to your nose, the pungent smell of the liquor assaults your senses, and you search for a compliment to give out of courtesy. Hoping to dissuade him from making further gestures of rapport, you decide against it.

“Is this an issue I need to be aware of?” he asks. “I have no patience for drunks.”

Leaning back in his chair, he peers at you intently over his glass.

“No, sir.”

Given the stories you’ve heard about his inebriated escapades, it’s quite ironic to hear such a statement from him.

You feel the uncomfortable burn of his glare, a demand for you to elaborate. Clearing your throat, you offer him a hesitant explanation.

“I prefer to keep my head straight. It’s important in my line of work,” you say.

Unimpressed by your reasoning, he leans forward and flicks your glass, producing a sharp sound that resonates through your chest.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asks.

“No,” you say. “But I’d really rather not—”

Silencing you with a raised hand, he swiftly cuts you off.

“Good. I don’t recall setting a fire. Have a drink,” he orders. “We have matters of discretion to discuss.”

As usual, his matters of discretion connect you to his hidden mercenary, a soldier you have treated multiple times throughout the years unbeknownst to your comrades. She’s Isaac’s most lethal weapon, a secret you wish you didn’t have to protect. What he is doing with her feels cruel, using her impenetrable body for brutal warfare and then leaving her isolated with her injuries, all while she waits for the next assignment.

It takes weeks for the roiling feeling in your gut to subside after meeting with her.

“When do you plan on ending this?” you ask.

Maybe the booze is taking effect, emboldening you beyond your usual self. It’s impossible to bite your tongue, the torment of watching this unfold gnawing at you.

“Excuse me?” he drawls.

“Sir, she’s alone out there. It’s not right,” you say, reluctantly downing the last remnants of the glass before pushing it across the desk. “There are factors you need to consider. Mental decline, her physical limitations. If you’d consider bringing her in, she’d make a promising squad leader.”

Trying to reason with him about her basic human needs will be futile, so as with every other matter, it’s more effective to approach the situation from a tactical standpoint. His perception of human beings as living entities is questionable as is.

“Do not underestimate her faculties,” Isaac says. “She’s built differently. This is the purpose she serves to keep her people safe, and she does it willingly.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but sir, if you’d just give me a minute.”

“Do I need to find someone else to handle this case?” he asks.

It’s a loaded question, a double barrel to your temple. The act of assigning someone else to handle her case doesn’t entitle you to be included in the mission rotation again.

Only you hold the key to the secret of her existence, and it will die with you.

“When do I ship out?” you ask.

“Tonight,” he mutters.

He turns his back to you, and you can hear the faint sound of liquid pouring into his glass. When he dismisses you by consuming it alone, you see yourself out.

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

The journey to the prison is a tumultuous one.

The absence of infected is a relief, but the spray-painted rattle snakes garnishing the buildings and the maze of explosives on the roadways dangle ominously in your face. With Bear, your devoted canine companion, you make it as far as the gas station before a spike strip shreds the front tires of your Humvee. The sunken road, slicked by rain and oil, causes the vehicle to lose traction completely, sliding sideways into the long-abandoned propane tank sitting at the edge of the freeway.

Warmth spills through your eyebrows, prompting you to reach up and touch your forehead to locate the source. Your fingers, stained bright red, begin to tremble as you observe Bear—his ears flattened with every dark hair along his spine raised in alarm.

It’s a matter of seconds before a pair of violent hands tear you from the vehicle and toss you into the dirt, jarring rock granules forcing your eyes shut. You blink them away until all you see is a mangled police visor staring down at you, its surface speckled with dried blood, a menacing baton swinging an inch from your nose. Though the mask muffles the voice behind it, there’s a barbed, frigid edge to his tone.

Bear lunges out of the cab, seizing the enemy by his throat and forcing him to the ground. It grants you enough time to scramble to your feet, only to be met with the disturbing view of an infected hoard stumbling toward you from the hillside, chains dragging behind some of them.

Your vision becomes increasingly blurry as nausea ferments in your stomach, twisting you inside out. You pilfer the rifle off your attacker, as a group of his mates emerge from the shadows. You lean against the Humvee, examining the firearm before chambering the only bullet attached to the limp body at your boots.

“Fuck ‘em up,” you command.

Bear is a missile, darting through the rubble, his target set everywhere at once. Next to Isaac’s best kept secret, your dog is a diabolical killing machine.

“Shoot that fucking dog!”

Your eyes narrow in on the enemy poised to strike Bear, and you steady your aim. The roar of your scream lingers in your ears as you fire the only round you’ve got. An aggressive swarm of infected are moving toward the chaos in a cluster of rot and tangled limbs and you’re frozen. A horrific slaughter, surpassing any level of violence you’ve encountered, breaks out in a flash.

The infected shred your attackers apart, ribbons of flesh and shattered bone coating the pavement. The moment you call out for Bear, the sudden noise turns a dozen vacant, pustule eyes on you.

With no weapons at your disposal, you frantically scramble onto the roof of the Humvee, scanning the surroundings for an escape route. A sea of infected pool together like a rancid colony of ants.

Some say that the pain from a Clicker attack is unlike anything else. Perhaps it’s their blind, frenzied hunger that makes them so vicious.

You’re on the brink of discovering it firsthand when the decaying corpse, with its outstretched arms and gnarled fingers, halts mid-motion.

The infected stop in their tracks one by one, haunted marionettes with abruptly yanked strings. Save for the sound of your own blood pumping in your ears, the silence becomes deafening. Their bodies writhe in an eerie synchronicity as you try not to breathe.

In rare form, you squeeze your eyes shut to escape the fear. The sudden weight of a hand on your shoulder causes you to swing violently in its direction, your fist caught by a solid, calloused palm. Your piercing scream permeates the silence before you instinctively clamp your hands over your mouth.

Despite your shock, the lifeless figures remain unaffected, and you squint to make sense of it.

“I don’t understand,” you say.

Through tangled locks of greasy hair, celestial blue eyes stare expectantly. Her intense gaze rakes over you, a familiar pearl-white streak marring only one iris. It’s been a while, but her angular face is a sight you remember well.

“They can’t hurt me?” you ask.

“They can,” she explains, reaching up to examine the gash on your forehead. “But they won’t.”

“Bear,” you blurt.

Using her thumb and forefinger, she turns your chin until you spot your dog at the edge of the hoard. You can feel his confusion as his tail wags anxiously, ready for your next command. The simple act of turning your head sends a tsunami of vertigo crashing over you.

Out of nowhere, your mind becomes a jumbled mess, making it a challenge to string coherent thoughts together. She senses your trepidation, and her hands immediately find your hips, offering stability as you falter.

“I’m dizzy. I need to get down,” you stammer.

Her grip tightens and you try to focus on the sharp sting of her fingertips digging into your skin. The world tilts, the infected shuffling and groaning as they slowly snap out of their trance.

“Breathe,” she says. “Stay with me.”

Darkness cloaks your vision before you can summon the energy to respond.

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

As you blink awake, the biting cold hits you first. The source of the unwelcome breeze draws your attention, as the chilly gusts sneak into the room through a slit in the concrete. It’s meant to be a window, but it falls miserably short of the mark.

You’ve spent countless nights inside this prison, mending the wounds of Isaac’s soldier in the dim, flickering light. It’s the first time you’ve landed yourself in her bed.

The blanket, enveloping you like a cocoon, is unpleasantly musty, and you peel it away. Rising from the rigid steel slab, the room spins, deterring you from getting on your feet. Your body feels heavy and sore, a relentless ache pulsating behind your eyes. You give it another shot and stumble to your feet, using the walls as a crutch until you regain your balance.

Bear sleeps peacefully at the foot of the bed, his gentle snores filling the room. It’s intriguing how he finds more peace in the prison than in his own home, but he certainly deserves some rest.

The clank of iron plates echoes down the corridor, and you follow the sound. Your bare feet recoil against the chilly ground, and you’re left pondering when exactly you misplaced your boots. The hiss of heavy breathing and the occasional strenuous grunt accompanies your journey from one cell to the next, guiding you down the hallway toward the sound.

You peek around the corner and wild blonde hair appears in your line of sight.

Chances are, she already senses your presence, but you give a gentle warning that you’re approaching just in case.

“How long have I been out?” you ask.

Performing dips on a rusted bench, she maintains her focus, her back turned to you. Muscles flex and bulge with each repetition and you notice she’s adopted fresh scars across her ravaged back since your previous visit. Without a word, she powers through her reps and smoothly transitions into her next set.

It took several visits before she would give you anything more than a frosty response. Despite the feeling of regression, it’s possible she just needs time to adjust.

“I noticed you grabbed my bag,” you say, idly fidgeting with your hands as you linger in the doorway. “Thank you for that—for all of it, really. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.”

Her body stiffens into a plank, losing momentum in her push-ups. Beads of sweat roll down her face and drip to the ground, her solid body trembling. She takes a deep breath before releasing it in a huff, continuing her routine without pause.

“Have you eaten? I packed some spices I think you’ll like.”

With a frustrated growl, she shakes her head, trying to dispel the irritation. Your instincts tell you to leave her alone to finish her workout, but for some odd reason, you find yourself unable to hold back the torrent of words.

“I thought it’d be cool to start a garden here. Herbs are nice to cook with, you know? Some for healing, too. There’s a decent spot in the yard for it.”

“What’s next—rose bushes?” she mutters.

“Roses can be great for tinctures,” you explain. “It’s a learning curve, but you get great sunlight for them.”

She props herself up on her elbows mid-push-up and lets out a choppy breath. When she raises her eyes to meet yours, anger fills them to the brim, and the hostility is scalding.

“I want Isaac to stop sending you.”

The pain of the unexpected dagger is far more intense than you could have ever imagined. You often wish that Isaac hadn’t implicated you in his secret, but you’ve grown to care for this wounded soul.

“You might as well take me out back, then,” you chuckle humourlessly. “Because that’s a death sentence.”

“Give me five minutes,” she sneers. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Look, I didn’t ask for this,” you say, a kernel of truth wrapped up in a rather emotional reaction to her painful barb. “I’m his soldier, too.”

Springing up from the ground, she snatches her shirt off a nearby chair and pushes past you. Before she slips the tattered garment over her head, you catch a glimpse of a deep, jagged laceration at the base of her neck.

While you make a mental note of it, you ultimately decide against bringing it up.

Rather than hounding her when she clearly wants to be alone, you decide to hunt for that old claw bathtub, desperate for a soak and maybe a good cry.

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

This tomb scatters beauty, but you easily find its seeds.

The copper tub catches the flickering candlelight, and the gleam is otherworldly against the lonely shadows. The moment you step into the hot water, you can feel your skin buzzing with gentle licks of heat and your tired muscles begin to surrender to the relaxation it brings.

You can recall the day she dragged this old bathtub into the prison, the legs of it squeaking across the concrete floor as if the claws belonged to a corporeal animal. Showers alone proved ineffective in hastening her healing process and cleansing her wounds and, surprisingly, despite her initial uncertainty, she took your advice.

The candles differ from the ones you previously left behind, so you assume she still makes use of the hollow luxury when the mood strikes.

Submerging your head, you study the muffled sounds brought about by the density of the water. Everything is disparate beneath the surface, the low-pitched hoots of an owl muted and distant.

“I made food.”

“Jesus Christ!” you choke, body thrashing and creating a chaotic spray of water in every direction.

Your actions soak the woman standing beside the tub and, when she averts her gaze, droplets of water slip from her dirt-slicked lashes.

“Knocking helps!” you say, bracing your arms on the copper ridges.

“Count the doors in here—I’ll wait!”

Her sarcastic wit catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks sting as confused gaiety tugs at them.

“What’s that face for?” she snaps.

It’s difficult to discern whether she’s asking a genuine question or if she’s in a defensive stance, so you wager it’s a blend of both.

“You’re funny,” you say. “When you’re not being a jerk.”

This time, when her eyes meet yours, the fury dissipates. There’s something soft and temperate where you’ve only ever witnessed the bane of unforgiving steel.

The pads of her fingers are a deep pink hue, and it dawns on you that the porcelain bowl must be extremely hot. You gesture to the side table disguised as a wooden stump and she sets the dish down.

“Can I have a look at that?” you ask, reaching for her hands.

The tub and clever positioning shroud your naked body, but the rest is all about her and her sudden ardent manners. With her face turned away, she offers you her palms first.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” she says.

While inspecting the burn and its surrounding wounds, you notice her shoulders dropping.

“You can sit, if you want,” you say.

Upon surveying the area, you’re aware that the number of chairs matches the number of doors, prompting an apologetic chuckle. A tiny smile teases her mouth as she crouches at your side instead.

“You need to run this under cold water, okay? And I should dress these cuts, so they don’t get infected.”

“What about you?” she asks. “I tried to clean it out, but it’s ugly.”

She moves to touch the gash on your forehead, and her quick movements startle you. When you flinch, her hand lingers in the air until she decides to rework her pace, taking a more languid approach.

“It’s been forever since someone called me ugly,” you jest.

“Missed opportunity,” she mumbles, biting her bottom lip to keep her grin at bay.

“You haven’t polished off that honey I brought yet, right?”

Her expression resembles a guilt-ridden thief caught in the act, and you struggle to suppress a burst of laughter.

“I should’ve known better. Maybe you need a hive instead of a garden,” you say.

She snorts at your suggestion before grabbing the cloth hanging on the tub and dunking it into the water. Instinctively, her weathered hands shape the fabric to dab gently at your injury. The surface is bruise-tender and the pain throbs outward in torturous sparks. She cups your jaw with her other hand to keep you from squirming.

“What if I’m allergic to bee stings? Because that’s a death sentence,” she mimics.

“I’ll try not to throw you in then,” you say. “No promises.”

A wide, earnest grin spreads across her tough features, and you forget how to breathe for a spell. She’s filthy and in desperate need of a hairbrush, but she’s still prettier than anyone you’ve met.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

Isaac never refers to her as anything other than his mercenary, and every time you had considered asking her in the past, your better judgement advised against it. Her preference for anonymity is clear, but you have so many unanswered questions.

In a smooth motion, she glides the cool cloth across the bridge of your nose.

“Do you really want to know?” she asks.

Seeking a moment of connection, you grasp her wrist, pausing her ministrations. Her gaze meets yours with a sense of urgency and she doesn’t break eye contact.

Water trickles from your hands, twirling along her wrist and cascading down her forearm. She fights to keep her eyes open, a raspy hum building at the back of her throat until goosebumps skate across your skin.

“I really want to know,” you say.

Her nod is slow and deliberate, contemplating the price she will have to pay for her decision.

“Once you see me,” she warns, and it’s uncertain whether she’s cautioning you or herself. “There’s no going back.”

“I can live with that,” you whisper.

Just when it looks like she’s ready to share, her body tenses up and you can almost touch the impenetrable barrier rising between you.

“Your stew is getting cold,” she says. “I’ll grab you a towel.”

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

Away from the stadium lights, midnight is a mesmerizing weave of glistening diamonds spilled across an indigo sky. The sight of the Milky Way reminds you of her. That blemish etched along her iris—a celestial river carving through blue canvas.

You curl up on a bedroll in the tall grass and listen to the melodious ensemble of crickets and frogs, yearning for extra time in the countryside. There’s a sense of security here, with no sign of danger for miles. The tall and formidable walls back home do little to drown out the blood-curdling cries of the infected. Their presence is always looming, close enough to unsettle you, but never close enough to harm. It’s enough to disrupt your sleep, their ruined faces bleeding into your nightmares.

The once spirited and untamed landscape of home now only grows the carefully cultivated visions that Isaac orchestrates, depriving both his plants and his people of freedom.

Prior to Isaac recruiting you for his mission, you contemplated abandoning your ties to the WLF. You didn’t want to spend another moment on this planet living in a perpetual state of war, never knowing when you’d catch a stray arrow.

The peaceful ambiance of birdsong in the early morning tempers the harsh world for you. It’s a reminder that amidst famine and devastation, there must be more.

“You’re not sleeping inside tonight?”

Bear’s collar jingles, bringing you a sense of comfort as the dog keenly explores the prison yard before heading back indoors to nap. Your pup instantly feels at ease with the mysterious woman from the middle of nowhere, and you have no trouble comprehending why.

“I am,” you say. “I just wanted to see the stars first.”

“You don’t see much of that where you’re from?” she asks.

When you pat the ground, she sits cross-legged next to you like an old friend.

“Not really. It’s too bright in the city,” you explain. “I’m going to need to stitch that up—don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

While shooting you a disapproving look, she absentmindedly traces the cut near her collarbone before leaning back on her rugged arms. She tilts her head to study the cloudless sky, and it draws your attention to the neat braid resting at the nape of her neck.

A fresh and woody scent emanates from her, with a subtle hint of pine carried to you by the wind.

“I’ve always wondered why there are no infected here,” you say. “You keep them away when I’m around, don’t you?”

You know it’s her, the one responsible for it all, but you’re still in the dark about her methods. The extent of its impact on her remains elusive to you, but you’ve witnessed her increasing exhaustion. Her strength and abilities set her apart, but they also have the power to decimate her reserves.

“They’re closer than you think,” she says.

“If I get up right now and walk out those gates, am I in danger?” you ask.

“Yes,” she says, a look of agony flashing across her features. “But not for the reasons you think. I can’t—it’s people I can’t control.”

“I wasn’t imagining things, then?”

Her teeth grind in apprehension, as she plucks blades of grass from the ground to build a small mound above the laces of her leather boots. You let the gears turn, patiently waiting for her to come to her own conclusions. The struggle lies in wanting her to confide in you, wanting to divide the burdens that shackle her.

“I’m here,” you say. “Whenever you’re ready to talk.”

“What if I can’t?”

“I’ll still listen,” you say.

When she turns her head to face you, fragile threads of trust blur her stern demeanour, a courageous step taken in silence. She lumbers from the ground until she finds her feet.

“Where are you going?” you chuckle lightly. “You need rest.”

Brushing the dirt off her pants, she makes her way to the perimeter fence, beckoning you to follow.

Left untended, the field beyond it is a forgotten acreage of towering weeds, sun-stretched wildflowers wilting beneath the somber moon. The ringing chorus of quick, guttural frog croaks fades as a Runner emerges clumsily from the treeline.

Your heart skips as her rough fingers intertwine with your own, a bolt of sweet lightning cleaving through your chest. You can feel the strength in her grip as she guides your joined hands to the chain-link. She squeezes, pressing the tips of your fingers around the galvanized wire.

You’re left bewildered, staring at her, before she gestures towards the field with a subtle tilt of her chin. The writhing, infected body creeps nearer and your heart pounds. With every graceless step the creature makes, nervous vibrations fuse between your ribs. It stumbles, festering limbs lunging forward, and it takes every ounce of self control to keep from screaming.

The warm body at your side inches closer to ease your erratic breathing. Her composure is remarkable, as if she has performed this action countless times, a mastery of the dead—a striking juxtaposition to your tight, hard swallow resonating through the lonesome field.

Behind the disease-ridden shell, the faint traces of a woman’s features start to emerge as the battered body reaches the other side of the fence. The infected woman is so close to you that you can see the intricate network of veins in her eyes, and the red, inflamed rims of her eyelids where her eyelashes once were. Every muscle in your body freezes, not daring to twitch or even let out a breath.

The septic woman pushes her forehead to the fence, head tilting at an unnatural angle, seeming to study every detail of your face. The putrid odour hits your nostrils with such force that it’s impossible not to recoil. As terror grips you, it spreads like wildfire.

“How?” you rasp, your voice so faint, it’s barely a whisper. “Why isn’t she attacking me—doesn’t she want to?”

“It’s all she wants.”

Your attention falls to the soldier whom Isaac has bound you to restore, and you notice she is rapidly losing strength, her skin growing paler as the life force ebbs away.

“Okay, that’s enough. Make it stop,” you order, panic rising as her nose trickles a thin stream of red. “You know what? Fuck it!”

Without hesitation, you reach for the knife holstered on her thigh, sliding the sharp blade through the fence, until the spindly body collapses to meld with the soil.

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

Your hands move with care as you suture the wound above her collarbone, the heat of her breath fanning your face. Positioned behind her is a mural she painted, featuring a serene beach and a shipwrecked boat nestled against the coastline. Decorated with kelp and dappled with rust, the sailboat’s intricate detailing is striking.

“I’ve never been to the beach,” you say.

Her blue eyes, wide with curiosity, lock onto yours, and a huff of quiet laughter escapes her parted lips.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“I’ve never been, either,” she admits.

You take a step back to observe her, noticing the lines etched on her face that tell stories of resilience. There is a captivating depth that makes you long to delve further.

“Well, you had me fooled,” you say, reaching for the scissors on the surgical tray. “You’re a talented painter—I’m sorry I hadn’t noticed sooner.”

With a dismissive shrug, she makes it seem like transforming a gloomy prison into a magnificent cathedral of art is a piece of cake. Her artwork is so impressive that you would never guess she has spent little time at the beach.

“Nah, it wasn’t here last time,” she says, adjusting her stance and widening the space between her thighs to provide you with more room to work. “I thought I’d try something new. We’ll see if it sticks.”

You lean in closer, gently tending to the cuts and scrapes that have gathered along her shoulders and neck. Her skin, adorned with freckles, is a beautiful mosaic of its own. Some strands of her braid have unraveled, perhaps because of a lack of practice, but the untidiness complements her.

“I’ve always wanted to learn to braid hair,” you say, pondering for a moment if, for her, it’s a self-taught skill or something guided by someone more experienced. Her mother maybe. “It suits you.”

Her nose wrinkles skeptically as she lifts her hand from her lap, her fingers carefully tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” she asks.

Given the antics outside, it’s a valid question. You can’t think of a scenario that sent chills down your spine quite like that one. But with her by your side, you felt an unspoken sense of protection. She nudges you with her knee, her eyes narrowing in anticipation of a response.

“I think I am,” you confess, pulling the steel cart to the other side of her brawny frame to better access the supplies you need.

“And yet, you stay,” she asserts. “I guess you don’t have much of a choice.”

“I always have a choice.”

While you meticulously inspect her newest scars, cleansing the wounds that besiege them, she takes hold of your hand, motioning for you to stop.

“Abigail,” she says, worrying her bottom lip. “My name—if you still want it.”

In an instant, your inquisitiveness peaks, keen to uncover both her origin and the path that led her to this place. All in good time, you suppose.

“Abigail,” you say, appreciating how smoothly it rolls off your tongue. “That’s a really pretty name.”

You watch in awe as a blush creeps up her cheeks, giving her a rosy glow.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. “It doesn’t feel like it belongs to me anymore.”

“Maybe we can change that,” you whisper.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby

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kinda-thoughtless-critic · 1 year

Text

Recruitment at Sunset

(jealous) Jean x Reader

It was a pleasantly warm evening at the survey corps headquarters, fading amber sun rays shone through open windows and avian chitter echoed from the leafy tops of trees outside. A relatively newly appointed Section Commander was at his desk shuffling some documents around. Many a parchment was discarded at a near automated speed, the applicant’s name was scanned and nine times out of ten dummped on a stack towering at the desk’s edge. Another, much smaller pile sat patiently in front of the young soldier.

His long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as tired eyes forced themselves to squint at less than impressive chicken scratch. A calloused thumb pad sank into the paper, creating creases like that of those framing his features, and he sighed, wishing the setting sun would pause and prolong the day a little longer.

It was then the warm oak door to his office opened with a slight creak of its old hinges, and that wish disappeared through the widening gap. Too quick did bright eyes meet his, curved to the softest gaze, the sheet of paper cropping off a smile. Jean jerked upright at your entrance, only having seconds to swiftly sweep the larger paper pile into the metal bin below and place the one he’d been scanning on the one in front.

You cocked an eyebrow as you drew closer to his desk, the door closing slowly behind.

“These are the applications for your new squad,” he said nonchalantly, handing you a flimsy stack of papers.

You skimmed through the applicants, flipping through the limited number of pages. Impressed by their statements, but disappointed with the lack of choice, after the 5th you stopped. “They’re all female”

“Yeah, that seems to be the case,” he responded, resting his elbows on the desk, light brown eyes piercing in the subdued light, “the top four ones are the people I think you should pick. Bridgette and Lina placed 10th and 8th in their Training Corps a few years back, Winnie was a well respected Garrison soldier and I think it will be good to have one of the new recruits like Piper join your squad and learn the ropes.”

Your smile returned as he pitched his suggestions, noting the stray hairs falling from their carefully combed positions to brush the tips of his nose and cheekbones. “You’ve thought about this a lot haven’t you?”

Jean smiled, softer lines replacing rigid ones, and his expression relaxed. “I’m your superior now; it’s my job.”

“Except on this occasion it isn’t, Commander Hange gave me the okay to choose my own members,” you smirked, “not for my Section Commander to do it for me.”

Jean sat back a bit, running a hand through disheveled locks, “I saved you time. It would’ve taken ages for you to decide on the right ones, so I thought I’d help you out.”

“This doesn’t seem like much.” You flapped the documents for extra effect, then glanced sidelong at the recently filled bin beside his desk. “Unless I am to count the ones you threw away just a moment ago.”

He followed your eyes down and promptly folded his arms. “Those aren’t important.”

“In your opinion perhaps, but not to me,” you said, stalking over to them and fishing them out. Jean frowned, displeasure evident in the reappearing creases gathering around knitted brows as you flipped through them. “So here are all my male applicants.”

“The ones I picked out for you were better suited,” Jean insisted.

You almost laughed. “You sure? Because one of these guys, Isaac Milton, was a Squad Captain in the Garrison.”

“He was stationed at Yarckel,” he countered, “He’s never seen a titan.”

“We’re not really fighting titans anymore. At least, not like before.”

“True, but he’s got little battle experience compared to the veterans I’ve picked, and won’t be as sharp as the new trainees. We don’t know exactly what we’ll be up against. Y/n, I don’t want you getting yourself killed protecting him.”

You sighed, clutching the stack close to your chest. “I’ll need his leadership experience- plus he was in the top 20 after graduating.”

“Leadership experience like choosing which barrel to sit on while you drink away the shift playing cards?” His words were sarcastic but his tone nothing short of sincere, this combined with the intent gaze he fixed you getting up and walking round made for a dangerous combination. He took back the stack with without resistance. “Hange and Levi are giving you a squad because they know what you can do. You’re more than capable of leading them.” He let the pile land with a thump on the desk and rested a hand on it, leaning his tall frame towards you. Attentive. “Have faith in yourself.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his immediacy, amber rays highlighting the precise curve of his smile, sheer softness in this gaze. The musky scent of imported cologne played annoyingly with your senses, threatening to distract your thoughts.

With a huff, you gently shoved his shoulder. “I’m fully capable of your promotion.”

He let out a soft chuckle, allowing his body to sway slightly with the impact. “Alright, then maybe you’ll get the next position that comes up.”

Shaking your head, as if you could brush off the natural half smile clinging to your cheek, you reached around his arm to pick up the lighter stack. Both of you knew he wouldn’t stop you if you really wanted to choose differently, but you were never going to. His judgement was more than reliable, had saved your life multiple times, for the longest time you never questioned trusting it. That said, you weren’t going to make it easy for him. “Is there a reason the only ones you approved were female?”

Jean took his hand off the tall paper pile, subtly hiding it from view as his lower back leaned against the desk. “Nope. They’re the best here.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine,” you reached up to jiggle his bearded chin. He allowed it, for a moment, before playfully batting your hand away. Turning on a heel you made your way to the door, “I’ll go with these four, so they better not disappoint, Horseface,” finally calling out as you left, “Actually to be on the safe sight, keep those ones on file for me...”

A heavy sigh juxtaposed your friendly wave goodbye, followed by a quiet grumble seeing your fleeting figure, taking away what little light had been left with it.

~~~

Thanks for reading!

Masterlist

Burden of Duty (Jean x Reader angst)

177 notes · View notes

studentinpursuitofclouds · 1 year

Text

✨✨Masterlist✨✨

Welcome to my masterlist!

Here you will find links to various headcanons for Stardew valley and SDV mods. The masterlist will be constantly updated as new headcanons are created. I will write the rules for asking questions later, perhaps in a separate post.

(Edit: This is old masterlist, I have new in my blog!)

Last update: 22.03.2023

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

✨Stardew Valley headcanon✨

General headcanons:

SDV bachelors and bachelorettes on the first date with Farmer | SDV townspeople's react to the news that Farmer has joined the Adventurer's Guild |SDV Bachelors found out their kid was being bullied | SDV bachelors will Artist!Farmer s/o | SDV bachelor and bachelorettes with the Farmer who has a young brother/sister | SDV bachelors and bachelorettes receiving a drawing of them from the Farmer | SDV bachelor and bachelorette file a divorce from the Farmer | SDV bachelors meeting their son/daughter for the first time | Protective SDV bachelor | SDV bachelors react to the Farmer using return scepter/warp obelisks | SDV bachelors random HC with Farmer s/o | SDV bachelors with the Farmer s/o who has tic disorder/Tourette's

Specific headcanons:

Sebastian:

Sebastian asking/going out with the Farmer on Valentine's Day | Sebastian's first date/confession with the Farmer s/o

Elliott:

Elliott with the Farmer s/o being silly

Leah:

Leah with the Farmer s/o being silly

Shane:

Shane, when Jas grows up

Penny:

Penny asking/going out with the Farmer on Valentine's Day | Penny's first date/confession with the Farmer s/o

Emily:

Farmer cheers her up after bad day

Harvey:

Harvey with tall!Farmer s/o | Harvey has a dream in white the Farmer is seriously injured

Sam:

Farmer cheers him up after a bad day

Some random headcanons:

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✨Stardew Valley Expanded (modded) headcanons ✨

General headcanons:

SVE bachelors and bachelorettes on the first date with Farmer | SVE townspeople's react to the news that Farmer has joined the Adventurer's Guild |SVE Bachelors found out their kid was being bullied | SVE bachelors and bachelorettes with the Farmer who has a young brother/sister | SVE bachelor will Artist!Farmer s/o | SVE mages and adventurers react to Farmer's new all-powerful wizard friend | SVE bachelors random HC with Farmer s/o | Farmer's finds out they lives longer that ordinary people

Specific headcanons:

Magnus Rasmodius:

From teacher and student to lovers | Magnus as Farmer's partner | Magnus without a beard

Olivia:

Olivia with the Farmer s/o

Victor:

Farmer cheers him up after a bad day

Lance:

Jadu:

General headcanons | Lance's and Jadu's friendship

Some random headcanons:

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✨Other headcanons✨

People ask about random headcanons:

People ask about random HC I (SDV+SVE) | People ask about random HC II (SDV+SVE)

Other:

Thoughts on the theory that Abigail is the Wizard's daughter | Madness and pink cake in a huge slime

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley expanded #sve #sdv headcanons #sve headcanons #sdv reader #sdv masterlist

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daughter-of-melpomene · 9 months

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𝙉𝙀𝙒𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝙋𝙇𝙊𝙏 𝘽𝙐𝙉𝙉𝙄𝙀𝙎

Alright, since I realize I haven’t exactly been as active on here recently as I would like to have been, I thought I would attempt to make up for it by letting you guys in on some of the newest OC babies I’m planning on introducing soon. I hope you guys like these little tidbits, and (even though I don’t have any of their intro posts up yet), feel free to ask me whatever questions you’d like about them!!

BAILEY TAYLOR, GLEE:

— Texas native who transfers to McKinley at the beginning of season two after her mother’s job is relocated to Lima.

— Generally your typical sweet Southern belle, but also fiercely independent and has a feisty streak.

— Well-set up to be popular when she first transfers, but quickly becomes an outcast after giving a tongue-lashing to some jocks after she watches them slushy Tina, so she joins New Directions.

— Generally sings country and pop music outside of the group numbers, but occasionally busts out a showtune (and does some country duets with Sam).

— Either a Tina or Santana ship, I haven’t quite decided yet.

CLARKE TALEB, TRIPLE FRONTIER:

— Her story is set in kind of an AU post-canon after the boys recover the stolen money from the ravine, where Santi officially retires and they all move to the same town close to each other (and also where Frankie doesn’t have a baby and broke up with his girlfriend because I just. Can’t really deal with that).

— Quite literally bumps into Frankie at a bar (and spills her drink all over him) and very quickly becomes friends with all four of them.

— A total energetic and social ray of sunshine who’s very comfortable in her bisexuality and active in her local queer community, and helps the boys come to terms with their various non-straight identities.

— The main singer at a local burlesque club, and KILLS it as a performer.

— In a poly ship with all four former Delta Squad boys, who are all also dating each other (except for Will and Benny, obviously).

GRETA DWARF, DISNEY’S DESCENDANTS:

— Daughter of Grumpy of the seven dwarves fame.

— Pretty much lives up to her father’s name; doesn’t put up with one bit of crap and is never afraid to speak her mind (which normally doesn’t make most people happy, but she doesn’t really like people anyway).

— Is definitely an outcast in Auradon and at school; the only people who actually talk to her at school outside of the teachers are Ben and her cousin Doug, who’s actually a little scared of her.

— Befriends Mal almost immediately after the VKs get to Auradon (they are truly kindred spirits) and decides to try and help them steal Fairy Godmother’s wand because she resents Auradon and how fake and falsely cherry it is.

— Doesn’t really lose her prickly streak by the time the Coronation rolls around, but does come to realize that not everyone in Auradon is so bad and she needs to let people in more.

— Definitely besties with Mal, but also strikes up unlikely friendships with Carlos and Lonnie (and kind of becomes Carlos and Jane’s unofficial protector since they’re both pretty quiet and she is. Not).

— Also an Evie ship because I simply have to give my beloved girl a girlfriend. <3

ISAAC HOLLIDAY, TWLIGHT:

— A boyfriend for my bi king Charlie Swan. <3

— A tailor who runs a clothing shop in downtown Forks - Charlie constantly brings his uniform to his shop whenever it gets ripped.

— Definitely suspects the Cullens of being vampires but can never prove it until Charlie lets him know about Edward and this man just jumps up and shouts “I KNEW IT!”

— Sweet but fiercely loyal and protective Gryffinpuff king. <3

— Definitely acts as a non-Charlie adult confidant to Bella and is the best stepdad when he and Charlie finally get together.

— Also used to have a bit of a crush on Carlisle and still gets nervous around him even after getting together with Charlie because Carlisle is just. So pretty.

LUCY SCRUBB, INDIANA JONES:

— A British archeologist working with American Army Intelligence who gets assigned with Indy to help him find the Ark of the Covenant.

— Kind of shy and socially awkward (mostly due to constantly being underestimated in her field for being a woman) but incredibly intelligent and observant and knows when to stand her ground and not take other people’s crap.

— (Also probably autistic, but, well, they didn’t really have the language for that back then. But she is.)

— An incredibly sweet and compassionate woman who would do anything to help people in need (but also tends to trust too easily, which is why Indy is good at balancing her out).

— Indy likes to call her Lou, and she pretends to hate it, but she secretly loves that he thinks enough of her to give her a cute nickname.

— A ship for the daring professor himself, obviously!

VIA WINCHESTER, SUPERNATURAL:

— (Yes, I know Winchester sister OCs are overdone, I don’t even care.)

— Technically her first name is Olivia, but she doesn’t like it and prefers to go exclusively by Via.

— Sam and Dean’s half-sister, fifteen years old in the first season, who was born out of a three-night stand between John and her mother.

— John didn’t stick around, obviously, but he kept tabs on Via and her mother and when the woman was killed in a car accident shortly after Sam left for collage, he came and got her and started training her to be a hunter.

— Immediately loves her two older brothers and is fiercely loyal to and protective of them, but shares a closer bond with Dean since she’s spent more time with him.

— Doesn’t like John at all, however, both for essentially abandoning her and her mother and for trying to turn all his children into hunters rather than letting them have normal childhoods, which is a point of contention between her and Dean.

— Despite her anger towards John forcing his kids into early training, she loves being a hunter and has a particular affinity for taking down vampires.

— A badass baby lesbian (who not only knows Dean is bi WAY before they even meet Cas but takes one look at Sam the first time they meet and is like, “Well, this one’s not straight either”).

— Might not have a love interest, or I might make another OC to give her a girlfriend, I haven’t decided yet (I’ll probably wait until I get a little further into the series).

Alright, that’s it for my more immediately upcoming OCs!! Again, feel free to ask me any questions you want about my newest babies!!

Tagging some of my OC community besties: @dancingsunflowers-ocs, @luucypevensie, @carmens-garden, @endless-oc-creations.

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blorbo-adoption-poll · 4 months

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Adoption poll preliminary match 13

Gin Ibushi (Your Turn To Die)

Isaac Moriah (The Binding of Isaac)

Luke (Obey Me)

Only two will move on

Propaganda under the cut

Gin Ibushi (Your Turn To Die) Propaganda

GIN PROTECTION SQUAD!!!! Adopt the tiny autistic boy! He shouldn’t be in a death game! He gives you cute nicknames!!

Isaac Moriah (The Binding of Isaac) Propaganda

His mother is an abusive addict and his father is a neglectful gambling alcoholic. While they do love him, I think it’s safe to say that neither of them are capable to raising Isaac well.

Luke (Obey Me)

No propaganda given

#tournament poll #adoption poll #gin ibushi #your turn to die #isaac moriah #the binding of isaac #obey me #luke obey me

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kasplonkable · 2 years

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Dating Isaac Lahey would include:

Stealing his jumpers constantly. They're literally massive, but they're soft, and they smell like old books, and the woods after rain, but most of all they smell like home

Going to see his lacrosse games. He would try to tell you that it wasn't a big deal, and that you didn't really have to come, but you would absolutely go full out every time

I'm talking face paint, colour coordinated outfits, banners, the works

He would be so embarrassed at first, but not of you. He's just shocked that someone would care about him that much

He would do this thing when the game ended where he would run across the pitch and kiss you in front of the crowd like he'd just won (even if their team lost)

If you guys are studying together, he would occasionally lean over to look at your answers, and when he gets caught he would pretend that he was going to hug you instead

"No, babe, you literally just look so cute right now" *continues peeking*

"Uh huh. It seems my answers are looking even cuter..."

"Well, now that you mention it-"

Lots of small touches. When you guys are walking together, your hands just naturally find eachother

Or when you're studying, you'll comfortably press your legs against eachothers under the table

Or sitting down, he'll sling his arm over your shoulders so you can lean on his chest

You both just enjoy the feeling of being close

He is constantly giving you his jacket. If he sees to even shiver slightly, the jacket is coming off. Even if you rub your arms, all of a sudden you have his coat dumped on you while he looks away bashfully and mumbles something about it being cold

Yeah, it's kinda chivalrous, but really it's more of a possessive thing

Speaking of being possessive, oh my days he literally cannot deal with other guys flirting with you

One time, while the two of you were eating lunch together, one of the guys from your history class came over and started flirting with you, and Isaac did not take it well at all

"I was thinking we could hang out on Friday? Just you and me, without your friend here"

Issac kept his head down as be wrapped his arm around your shoulder, finally looking up, eyes yellow as the sun, when he said

"You wanna try that again, bud?"

The guy almost seems stuck on the spot until you place a hand on Issac's, squeezing gently

"Sorry Ben, I'm actually Issac's girlfriend, so I can't"

Even though he was angry, hearing you tell people 'you are his' drove him a little wild

You write eachother small love notes all the time. Sometimes you give them in person, sliding small professions of love across the hard wood of the library desks

But sometimes it's more fun to hide them for the other to find later

So many times, Isaac has come home from a rough day only to move a folder on his desk and find a small note folded there. His face just lights up, the troubles of the day already fading in his mind, replaced by one thought: you

Or sometimes he'll flick to a random page in his textbook, and a small pink post-it will fly out from between the pages, the only message on it being "i love you"

He starts off as the big spoon, but you usually wake up to find him safely gathered up in your arms, asleep on your chest

Especially if he has a nightmare. He tries so hard not to wake you, but if he does, just hold him until he calms down, muttering sweet nothings until he falls back asleep. A lot of the time he doesn't even remember it in the morning

He's the one who deals with spiders, but not before teasing you about it

"Oh come on, he's just a little guy!!"

"Isaac, seriously, please take him outside"

"You sure you don't wanna say hi?"

He never kills them though. He kinda identifies with them, so he just grabs a cup and some paper and takes them out

There was that one time though, when the spider wouldn't fit in the cup, in which both of you really considered just leaving for a couple hours until it went away on it's own

"Yeah I think I'm gonna give this one a miss..."

"What do you mean 'a miss'? You're the big bad wolf, go sort it out!!"

"Wait, babe....where did it go?"

👁👄👁

*sounds of you both grabbing your bags and leaving the room* "nope" "nope" "absolutely not"

I actually had so much fun writing this!! It's crazy the kind of inspiration you get when you're trying to avoid studying, but anyway!! Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to send a request!! :-)

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gucciboots · 2 years

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Episode 6 spoilers!!

Here’s another little detail from a scene that I will never shut up about:

Steven throwing one of his batons at Harrow, who deflects it, and Marc catching AND using it as well?? I SOBBED LIKE???? They’re working together now 🥹

My darlings 🫶🏼🫶🏼 I love them so much 🥹❤️

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anamizuiro · 2 months

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IkeVamp x Genshin brainrots I thought about

(I'm sorry for the sudden switch up in interest, my hyperfixations changes sometimes)

Notes: i used to play genshin but not anymore. So i got updates mostly through youtube

Tags: brainrot, drabble, crossover, may have some incorrect things

- Vincent would hesitate harming the slimes. Who doesn't? They are adorable, despite their attacks can hurt, depending on which element of slime you're facing. He always have this urge to touch them, pet them, or even hug them. So, Theo need to remind him that they have to kill these slimes.

"Vincent, step away from that slime"

"But, Theo, they are adorable!" He raised a small hydro slime up as if he was picking up his raccoon pet, "See? Look at their face"

"...you're making this harder than it should, Broer."

(I'm willing to say that Vincent silently cries in bed after completing the commission)

- Arthur would look at the crystalflies and the seelies and went "Hah! Look at that Theo. Fairies does exist here!", laughing at his face while Theo just rolls his eyes while crossing his arms.

- Jean would join the "Melusine Protection Squad". At first, he was confused with these little creatures. How they are so friendly with everyone around, especially someone like Jean (literally one of them greeted and waved her hand to him while he was taking a stroll on the streets of Court of Fontaine), and the way they walk (or skip?) like a child...

Next thing he knew, he found himself interacting and talking to them. Never once he didn't hear a melusine or two saying "Good morning, Monsieur Jean!" Or "It's sunny today, Monsieur Jean. I hope you're having a good day!"

Congratulations, Jean. They have adopted(?) you.

- Shakespeare will have his plays held in the Opera Epiclese. You bet that everyone will attend, because who's not curious about this mysterious playwright who came out of nowhere and held a play? And then the play was much better than they thought, too!

Some theatre group would probably ask him for advices after watching one of his plays. Or even better, aside from being a playwright himself, he also works as an advisor for theatre group. For free! (And yet they are still willing to pay him)

- Teatime with Comte and Zhongli is a frequent activity. When Comte first visited Liyue, he first met Zhongli sitting on a table next to his, sipping his warm tea while listening to the old tale of Rex Lapis.

When Zhongli adds something to the tale being told, Comte was... intrigued. He thought "this fellow seems to speak as if he once lived there"

Honestly, I don't think he'll be surprised if it turns out his guess is correct.

Perhaps through 'the power of reminscing and warm tea', is the reason they still drank tea together til this day.

- Isaac and Alhaitham will probably bond(?) through 'the power of knowledge'. He's literally a physicist, a professor, of course Alhaitham will be interested with whatever information coming out of Isaac's lips (though he doesn't know Isaac is a professor, he just think that the pink-eyed young man is a very dedicated knowledgeable person)

You might found yourself walking in to their science talk. Like Kaveh did. (He nearly got a heart attack when he saw Isaac because who the fuck is this guy and why did Alhaitham invite him without telling him?! This is the second time something like this has happened!)

- would Napoleon laugh at Cyno's jokes? Would he tumble, wheezing and trying his best to hold his laughter?

- Dazai would probably be interested in the books published by Yae Publishing House. He was just walking in the streets of Inazuma, reminscing his homeland...

and suddenly came across a bookstore, he looked at them and went "oh they have novels here. Wonderful!"

He and Yae Miko will probably be the prankster duo the moment they found out that they have a similiarity (poor Isaac and Gorou)

- Would Leonardo be interested with testing the glider? He invented many concepts in the past (literally made a sketch of a parachute in his old notebook too), so when he see something similar to it, how invested is he with it (how it works etc etc)?

- Bet, Napoleon and Arthur is listed on the "most sought out men in Fontaine" type of list. Arthur being the flirt and the smarty he is and Napoleon's (accidental?) natural rizz.

Napoleon was just helping a stranger, and then said stranger ended up losing focus because his alluring rizz mode is activated.

Arthur pulls out the Sherlock mode and all of a sudden they are impressed.

- Vincent will paint the Fontaine sea creatures after exploring the sea of Fontaine. He found them so cute and lively (the otters are a sweet bunch of fellows who follows him like little pups)

Theo saw how his brother was smiling so happily when he draws and when he checked what's on his sketchbook and found cute sea animals, he is screaming happily on the inside because gosh his brother must have the time of his life exploring.

- Lyney and Arthur wit battle when? They have the smarts though in difference ways. And Arthur respects how he's a magician so i'm sure he won't spill out the secrets of Lyney's tricks. He even admires Lyney for it too! (hehehe Sherlock Holmes vs Arsene Lupin game ref?)

#✨️ ~ brain sparks #ikevamp #should this have its own new tag?#ikemen vampire #ikevamp crossover #ikevamp x genshin #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp comte

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camgoloud · 1 year

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the other thing about all of this is that bumbercatch is absolutely NOT going to be the only one to draw from isaac’s behavior this episode the conclusion that isaac is gay—or, at the very least, that there is likely a gay player somewhere on the richmond squad. and since we know that colin doesn’t want to come out publicly at this juncture this is undoubtedly going to lead to some Dangerous Speculation about the internet re: the whole situation and so where i am going with this i guess is that maybe i WILL actually write the fic associated with the mostly-empty document in my google drive entitled “operation sportacus” because like. imagine the whole (well-meaning) squad attempting to protect colin/throw the press and social media off his scent by. all becoming hardcore gay issues advocates overnight

#ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso #caseyposting

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youssefnathan-simp · 1 year

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Okay but imagine a Disneyland heartstopper episode:

Youssef and Nathan wearing sally and jack skellington jumpers which causes the Paris squad to tease them (they also buy matching jack and sally ears once in the park which didn’t help the teasing)

Nathan pretty much dragging youssef on every ride but youssef actually enjoys (Especially the haunted mansion)

Them having a coffee break and Charlie joining them because he starts feeling exhausted which makes Nathan a bit protective

All the Paris squad has matching ears

Nick drags them all to the avengers

Isaac pretty much Disney bounding villiage belle

Imogen does a Disney bound of rapunzel

We find out Darcy is a cars fan after she drags everyone onto the cars ride

#heartstopper #nathan ajayi #youssef x nathan #youssefnathan #heartstopper comic #mr ajayi #mr farouk #youssef farouk #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper teachers #heartstopper headcanon #charlie spring #what youssefnathan are doing right now #charlie x nick #nick nelson #nick x charlie #darcy olsson #imogen heaney #isaac henderson

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boredrxm · 2 years

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Marc is just ✨tired✨

I can’t explain how in love with this show I am omg, Steven is a baby who I have a need to protect (same as Marc, he’s the leader of the Steven protection squad lmao) and Oscar Isaac is the real deal

I’m currently still in pain following episode 5 and I’ll be even more for episode 6 lol

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight fanart #marc spector fanart #Steven grant fanart #Marvel #mcu #mcu fanart #fanart #my art #illustration #artists on tumblr #digital art

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