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The Last Of Us - Blog Posts
Taste is subjective but to call Bella Ramsey a bad casting decision is to
1- completely mischaracterize and/or misunderstand Ellie's personality, mannerisms and speech pattern because Bella Ramsey has had that shit down to an art form from day one. I don't know what you guys are thinking.
And 2- to admit to being fucking blind! No, they don't look like Ellie from the game (and if that's your only complaint then I hope you keep that energy for Joel, Sarah, Maria, Tommy and show exclusive characters since we're apparently all such fucking purists now) but do you know who Bella Ramsey DOES look like?! ASHLEY FUCKING JOHNSON! The voice actor and motion capture actress for in-game Ellie AND THE ACTRESS FOR ELLIE'S MOM IN THE TV SHOW!!!!!
Once again, taste = subjective. You are not obligated to LIKE Bella Ramsey (albeit they haven't exactly given anyone a reason not to.) But to deny that they are a BRILLIANT Ellie is to be a pedantic asshole pissy that they couldn't 3D print a fictional character into the real world and puppet them around on strings in accordance with your tastes alone. You know, like something animated or whatever.
Bella Ramsey is doing a bang-up job. Some of you- NOT ALL! BUT SOME!- are just mad you can't lust after the 14 year old teen girl anymore and it really fucking shows
joel finds you out in the cold. your parents haven’t returned from a supply run. you’re alone and scared— so he takes you back to his camp.
Joel slings his backpack over his shoulder and forces himself forward. He knows that stopping to rest now is essential if he plans on getting home, even if he so desperately wants to keep pace and make it there within the next hour. Logic wins. He pulls himself down and rests his fist under his chin.
A shuffle grabs his attention. He immediately pulls his gun, his eyes darting frantically, scanning for a threat. He lowers his weapon once the ‘threat’ enters his vision. A small kid, can’t be above 10. Shivering, clutching a dirty stuffed bear to their chest. You look terrified— rightfully so. With the world you live in now, it would be strange if you weren’t terrified. Joel approaches you slowly. Puts his gun away to show you he means no harm.
“Hey.. you, kid, under the porch. I ain’t gonna hurt ‘ya.” He crouches and offers his hand to you. You’re timid, untrusting. He understands, he’d probably have taught you to be untrusting too if he was your parent. He rolls a water bottle under the crack. You roll it back over his way.
“I promise it’s safe. Watch.” He takes a waterfall from the bottle. Showing you he didn’t do anything to the drink. Rolls it back to you. This time you accept it, gulping it down quickly. You were dehydrated. You haven’t left this spot since yesterday.
“Thank you..” you mutter, still afraid. Joel has a warm aura. You decide that maybe you can trust him. Maybe.
“Yeah. Come out from under there, kid. It’s ’bout to be night time. Don’t want a clicker to get ‘ya. I’ll keep you safe, bud.” He gives you his hand again. You take it. After pulling you out from under the porch he throws his jacket over you, not wanting you to freeze to death on the way home.
“I have a camp. Lots of food. Good things. You’ll like it. Other kids your age. You can play… whatever kids your age do. Learn to shoot, too, if you want. I teach that course.” You shrug. You aren’t sure what you want yet. You just want a warm bed, and to know that your parents are okay. “What were you doing under there anyway?” You both start the journey back to camp.
“Waitin’ for mama and papa.” Your voice cracks as you say it. Joel sighs.
“I’m sorry about that, kiddo. Really damn sorry.” He rubs the back of your head, trying to soothe the hurt, though he knows nothing could repair that wound. He’s lost a daughter before, he imagines it feels just like that, but reversed. Having to lose both your parents.
Hours pass and you’re nearing the camp. Joel can see how sleepy you are. He chuckles. Kids always look cute when they’re tired. “Think you can make it, kid?” You’re barely awake. You give him half a nod. He shakes his head.
“Listen, I can carry ‘ya. I don’t mind. I don’t bite, swear.” You blink, thinking it over. Drowsiness takes over and you reach for Joel. If he wanted to hurt you, he probably would have already. “Good. Good. C’mere, kiddo.” He reaches and pulls you up into his arms, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Sweet dreams. When you wake up you’ll be in a warm bed. Safe. I’ll pull some strings and get ‘ya some candy, too. A welcome home gift.”
You’re too tired to react. All you do is yawn and nod, letting the sleep overpower you and finally, it consumes you.
unforgivable things
just two characters who wiggled their fingers before their death that they knew was coming
PEDRO PASCAL as Joel Miller THE LAST OF US | S02E02 “Through the Valley”
notice how she tries to hold his hand like she did when he got stabbed. notice how she holds onto it even if he isn't caressing her hand to tell her he's okay. notice how-
it’s so much worse. the way ellie tells joel to get up and he tries. the way abby seeps the pointed end of the club into his neck. the way the wlf members don’t even bother knocking ellie out because she is already so emotionally paralyzed by grief she can’t even so much as stand.
but more than anything else it’s crawling to him. all she can muster is crawling with nothing but her arms and cuddling into joel with her whole person. her face buried into the man’s which will forever be the last memory of him. it’s like watching a child seeking the safety of a parent who can’t protect them anymore. this isn’t just the death of a protector. it’s the death of home. joel, to ellie, is safety. safety that she spent the last five years resenting until it was too late. he’s been the one constant in a shattered world. so when he’s dying — or dead — she reverts, not in age but in emotional rawness. she becomes a daughter clinging to a father figure who can’t shield her anymore. and it’s not just fear. it’s complete unmooring. there’s no one left to hold the world up for her. it’s the kind of need that children have when everything feels too big, too loud, too dangerous. she needs to be held. but there’s no one to hold her, so she becomes the one doing the holding, even if he can’t respond. and he’ll never respond.
in one of ellie’s most harrowing moments in life joel was there to cling on to her. in yet another, she clings to him. but he’ll never cling back again.
Request stuff!!
Any fandom you are in and any character! Even if I’m not in it, I will do as much research as I can on your character.
I’ll do fluff, lime, smut, etc., but I’m not one for angsty themes.
Any kinks! But no disgusting things like sc@t or feet
I won’t judge any of your requests! Feel free to do it anonymously.
Have a great day, loves!
This fic in general will have lots of gruesome details of death and of battles. I am letting you know that there will be angst and some really concerning things to come from this. I will keep it to a minimum, but like this story is already an AU for The last of Us. If you know the game and show itself, you will see why I put a warning at the beginning.
Also, some information, the time frame will be only a 5 year difference than from the original source. It will be 15 years instead of 20, in this chapter, they are 17, and Randall is 10.
Last but not least please tell me what you think, it helps with improvement and writing I plan for this whole thing, thanks!!!
- Sky 💜
Warning ⚠️: This chapter contains violence, mention of guns and weapons, along with the death of a child. You have been warned.
Chapter 1 : Lights Atop the Hill
September 26th 2003
Steven had finally made it home from school, it was a whole thing back at school but he would just worry about it next week.
"Steven."
A slightly deeper voice called, it was Marc, he looked down at the puddle of water that was created by the sprinklers of their neighbors.
Their patch of sidewalk and grass always mushy yet full of life, clean and dirty but it's the piece of earth they owned.
"'Ello Marc, what's up?"
Steven asked as he looked down at the water to look at his companion on the other side.
"I need to body back Steven, you had it the entire day."
Marc said as he waited for Steven response.
"But, I haven't even said hi to mum yet."
Steven reasoned with Marc to at least sat hi to their mother.
"You said good morning to her this morning Steven, give the body."
Marc threw back because he had receipts for both of them to make the body sharing equal.
"Fine, fine. You got a point."
Steven sighed as he felt the switch happen and just like that Steven was the reflection and Marc the form.
"Thanks."
Marc mumbled which earn a small smile from Steven.
"No problem, later gators."
Steven said as he held out a piece sign which got him both a small smile and eye roll from Marc as he walked away from the reflection and towards their house.
Marc had the keys and opened the door to his home.
"I'm home."
He shouted before taking his shoes off and walking down the hall of his house, he waited for a call back from his parents but, nothing.
"Marc!"
A small voice exclaimed before a small boy crashed and wrapped his tiny arms around Marc's waist.
"Hey Roro, where's mom and dad?"
Marc asked his brother as he mess with his hair.
"Said that they had to go city to grab something, also that they won't be back till nightime."
His little brother said which got a sigh from Marc before he looked down at his brother and picks him up as he now sat on his hip.
"So, what do you want to do right now then?"
He asked his little brother as his brother started to grin from cheek to cheek as small dimples formed on each end which made Marc's heart warm.
" Can we play gods today?"
His little brother asked with eyes that lit up Marc's mood.
"Alright, but only for an hour, then I got homework and chores. Got your chores done?"
Marc asked his brother and little Randall nodded his head.
"Got to it the minute mom picked me up from school."
Randall said as he puffed his chest proudly looking up at Marc.
"Good, alright who do you wanna be?"
Marc said and the two brothers played with each other, despite the age difference they still worked together in harmony.
Their own little world's intertwined into one big playground for their childhood and boy hood to exist.
4 hours later....
"And I win!!"
Randall cheered as he got onto of Marc who was on the ground pretending to be wounded by his brothers punches.
"Yep, you got me. Good job buddy."
Marc said as he slowly got up and looked at the clock of the living room which was now messy with toys and building block made to look like towers and cities.
"Okay, that's enough playing for today, gotta go do my other thing Roro."
Marc said as he started to pick up some of the toys from the floor and into the rightful place of their color coded cubbies labeled from Randall since he tended to get them mixed up before.
"Aww, but that was like only 15 minutes of playing Marc, I wanna play a little more."
His brother whined as he looked at Marc with a small pout, he always did that when something didn't really go his way.
"No way Roro, I need to get my things done. But I'll make you a deal instead."
Marc responded as he held out his pinky since they still did pinky swears, this peaked his brothers interest.
"Once I am done with what I have to get done I'll play with you then, deal?"
Marc said with a small smile to try and get his brother to agree with him cause he really doesn't know how else to do it.
Randall looks at him, hesitant but after a couple seconds he slowly grins and nods his head before getting his even tinier pinky and wrapped it around his brothers.
"Deal."
Is all he says before he gets up and starts to put away the rest of his toys in the color and labeled cubbies that have been made for him.
"Okay."
Marc whispers before he goes and picks up his backpack that was flung to a wall during their "battle" and goes upstairs to his room.
"Man mate, I have no idea how you do it."
Steven sighs as he looks at Marc from the closet mirror as Marc changes out of his school clothes into something a little more comfortable.
He now changed into some gray sweatpants and a band t-shirt, it was an rock band that Marc was starting to really like.
"How I do what Steven?"
Marc said with a raised eyebrow confused on what his alter meant by his question.
"Like the whole playing with him for almost 6 hours, like that's mental. His stamia is just something else sometimes mate."
Steven says being exhausted himself.
"Your exaggerating Steven, it's was like 2 hours. Your just not use to his energy like me."
Marc said as he sat down and started to take out his homework, he knew he would get through it in maybe an 1 or so.
"I know, it's because he doesn't even know I really exist Marc."
Steven adds his tone a little more quiet like Randall would hear him, Marc noticed.
"It's just...I don't know how he would react that his brother has two in his head and not one. He's just a kid, he might not understand Steven."
Marc consoled his other, his voice a little softer but still firm about it. He knew that Steven felt a little hidden and almost neglected from how much he didn't have control.
"I know, I know. I get it, sorry mate."
Steven says as he had a apologetic expression on his face.
Marc sighed as he thought of how to make it up, the only people who really knew were his mom and dad.
Even they didn't understand all the way but they tried.
"Look, let's wait till Randall a bit older, once he can understand better, okay?"
Marc asked as he tried to make eye contact with his alter who was not really someone to look someone in the eye sometimes.
Steven thought and could see what Marc meant, good thing he had more patience and understood what he was saying to him.
He would wait.
Wait for the day someone would finally understand him and Marc, he hoped it would be their brother.
Steven nodded.
"Okay."
Marc nodded in return before going and taking out his notebook to start his homework.
-------------------------------------------------------
10:37 PM
After all that their parents weren't home yet, it had been a while now so Marc went and made dinner for him and his brother.
"What are you making?"
Randall said as he came out of whatever shadow he had hid in.
"Some Mac and cheese."
Marc answered as he mixed around the noodles, the white and yellow mixing together in a warm hue of lights in the kitchen glowed.
The smell already made both boys hungry and ready to just eat something, usually it was their dad or mom making food but they still weren't back from the city.
"Any calls from mom or dad?"
Marc asked as he looked down at his brother.
"No, nothing came in."
Randall said as he went and sat down at their round table, his small figure being taken over by the wooden chair he sat on.
"Okay, I'll call them later."
Marc said as he got plates from the top drawer and put them on the table as Randall got up and went to the shorter drawer and pulled out some spoons.
"Here, how much do you want?"
Marc asked as he got the pot and brought it close as he started to pour the food onto hit plate.
"That's good."
Randall said as he looked at Marc once he thought he got a good enough portion of food.
Marc nodded and tilted the pot back before pouring the rest onto his plate and put the pot in the sink to be washed later.
They ate together before Randall went to play a little more into his room and Steven took over since it was his turn now to wash the dishes.
"You should call them Marc, I'm getting worried."
Steven told to the reflection of the metal pot he was washing as Marc answered back.
"I know, once your done I'll call them to see what's up with them, something doesn't feel right."
Marc argued as his tone got quieter, he felt it somewhere inside of him that something was up. His parents never were out this late without telling him or Randall they would be.
"I have the same feeling mate, it feels like it's eating me from the inside."
Steven agreed as he put the dish in the dishwasher for them to dry on their own.
After being done with that they got the black flip phone that Marc had gotten for his 16th birthday.
He typed the digits of his father's number and held it up to his ear as the phone rang.
And rang
And ran-
Click
"Marc?"
A softer tone of Marc's more rough voice called out as the phone was finally picked up.
"Dad, where are you guys? It's been a couple hours, usually you guys call us when you'll be out longer, what happened?"
Marc questioned as he heard a car honk on the other side of the call.
"Yeah, sorry, we just got caught up in some traffic, didn't think it would take this long. Did you and Randall eat yet?"
His father asked as another honk happened then a other click as the TV was turned on, he turned around to find Randall had found the control.
"Roro, can you turn it down bud, please."
Marc asked as he put the flipphone to the side so his parents wouldn't hear him.
Randall nodded and put the volume down and flipped through the channels to get to the channel he wanted.
Marc gave a small smile before he put the flip phone back on his ear.
"Yeah, we ate. What about you guys, did you guys ea-"
Marc said before he heard a blaring noise and turned back towards the source, the TV.
"Randall, bud, I told you to turn it down."
Marc huffed as shook his head a little before he went back to his parents call.
"Marc, what was that?"
His father's voice questioned as he sighed and put one hand on his hip.
"Just told Randall to keep it down so that I could hear you, sorry."
He replied as the TV once again got loud, Marc turned around and looked at Randall who just looked back at him before pointing at the TV.
Before Marc could scold him, he looked at the TV and a chill ran down his spine.
Not too long after the sound of the radio on the other side of the phone started to say the same thing on the TV.
" This is not a drill. I repeat, not a drill. Due to a virus that has spread from a foreign country to now the West and Eastern Parts of the US we advise that residents stay indoor and lock your doo-"
Marc felt his heart stop. It was the EAS that never really happened unless it was a test. But it wasn't. It just said it wasn't.
"Marc?"
Randall looked at his brother confusion and rising fear starting to make its way and his brain now catching up that something was wrong.
"Son? Marc!?"
His father shouted as Marc finally got back to reality.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm here, dad, what do I do?"
Marc asked his dad as Randall got up and hugged his older brothers leg, he looked like he was about to cry. It broke Marc and Steven's heart.
"You need to lock the doors Marc, windows too, get some bags and pack any essential alright. Wendy I can't go any faster!"
His father was starting to sound panic as the sounds of honks and what seemed like cars starting to crash into each other on the other side of the call. Marc felt his chest fill up and deflat like a ballon, it was too much.
He felt sick, the Mac and cheese now making its way back up as it burned in his throat. He kinda wished now that he skipped dinner.
"Marc, protect your brother okay? We're gonna try and get there as fast as we can. Get a weapon and if things get bad there you get into the car and you get you and your brother out of there. You understand!?"
His mom's voice shouted with both frustration and panic, of course it would. Her children were in danger and she isn't there to protect them.
"Marc! Did you hear me!?"
His mother once again shouted and Marc nodded as he let out a shaky breathe.
"Okay, okay. Love you guys."
Marc said, hating the way his voice sounded right now, his hands were starting to shake, his hands never shook like this. Ever.
He looks down and sees his brother who is closing his eyes like if he opened them a monster would appear and hurt him.
Marc would never let that happen, not to his baby brother. Never him.
"Love you to-"
The line was suddenly cut, Marc looked at his flip phone to see that the battery had died.
"Fuck!"
Marc shouted which made his baby brother flinch, feeling immense guilt from that he bented down and steady his brother by his shoulders.
"Sorry, sorry. I-I didn't mean to scare you Roro. Okay?"
Marc asked as he tried to steady his voice, he needed to be strong right now, for his brother, his parents, Steven, for the people that relied on him right now.
"What’s happening? Where's mom and dad? Why did that message show up on the TV?"
Randall sniffles as tears were starting to run down his baby cheeks and Marc went ahead to softly wipe them away.
"Something, something bad is happening. I don't know what but all I know is that nothing bad is gonna happen to you. Okay?"
He reassured his brother as he looked him in the eyes as he cupped his brothers face and held it like he was the most fragile thing in the world. Because he was, he was just a kid.
"Okay."
Randall whispered as leaned forwards and wrapped his arms around his brothers neck which Marc reciprocated the gesture by hugging his brother and cradling his head.
He picked up his brother and took him upstairs to his room before setting him down.
"Now I need you to listen, grab your school backpack and dump whatever is in there okay."
Marc advised as he started to go through Randall's closet and taking out clothes for him that should last a good while.
"Why?"
Randall said as he started to grab his backpack and take things out one by one.
"Just do it, please."
Marc pleaded a little as he started getting small toys to hopeful entertain his brother from what was happening outside.
"Okay, bu-"
"Randall! Just, please. Don't argue with me right now, okay."
They both worked in silence as Marc got bags ready, Randall, his, and his parents bags were done in an hour.
-------------------------------------------------------
2:35 AM
Randall and Marc had stayed locked in their parents room, Marc had a switchblade and gun from his father's safe next to him.
Both were asleep together. Randall next to his brother and his brother hugging him protectively.
Both laid in the bed being the comfort for each other.
CRASH
That had woken the brothers up. Both sat up straight and Marc had gotten the gun and handed the switchblade to his brother.
Slowly they looked at each other as Marc mouthed.
"Stay here."
Randall nodded as he clenched the switchblade harder and Marc had slowly gotten up from the bed and went to the door.
He put his ear close to the door to hear whatever it was that broke into the house.
The sound itself was appalling in its own ways as it sent a shiver down his spine, the noise groaned and moaned like those horror movies that he would watch.
Steven wasn't a big fan and Marc every once in a while would also hate himself for watching the damn movie. But it felt him with such adrenaline that he still did it despite the nightmare he eventually got.
But those were just nightmares, things he could wake up from, this wasn't.
It sounded unreal, unnatural, just something horrid. It sounded close too, he held his breathe as he leaned away from the door.
He looked back at his brother and looked at the bags. They needed to leave, and now.
He grabbed his backpack and tossed it out the window, he had a plan at the very least on how to leave just incase someone or something broke in.
"Grab the other ones and throw them out the window, okay."
He whispered to his brother as he grabbed his flip phone, it was fully charged now.
"Okay, I'm gonna let you down first and then I follow, okay."
Marc said as he wrapped a curtain sheet around his brothers waist.
"Marc?"
Randall whispered as he felt his brother wrapping up his waist tightly with the curtain sheet from the window.
"Yeah?"
Marc answered as he did one final tug to check that his baby brother wouldn't fall out of this makeshift rope he had made.
"I'm scared."
Randall fretted as he looked at his older brothers.
"Mate, he's terrified. I am too."
Steven whispered from his parents mirror that hung on the door of their closet.
Marc looked at the mirror, at Steven who also had a worried look on his face, his eyebrows were furrowed and his lower lip was trembling a bit.
Marc could see he was trying his best to freak out about this whole thing.
Marc was too, he sighed and took a deep breathe before looking at his baby brother and crouched down to his level.
"I know. I know you are, think of this like the games we play together. Like we are going into a crave with treasure, only thing is the treasure we seek is mom and dad. Okay."
Marc tried to make this easy for him as possible. Another crash was heard down stairs and Marc knew they need to go.
"Alright bud, it's time."
He grabbed Randall's hand and the other with the end of the makeshift rope.
"Now, grab on tightly and when you reach the ground move out the way so that I don't accidentally jump on you. Okay?"
Marc said as he held Randall tightly and held his hands as Randall was going out the window and hung on to the sides of the window.
"Okay, okay! Like that bud, your doing good."
Marc said as he tighten his grip on the makeshift rope.
"Now, I'm gonna let you down, slowly."
Marc explained as Randall nodded and Marc took a deep breathe before he started to loosen his grip and finally dropped him to the ground safely.
He let out a small breathe of relief he had held in.
BANG
BANG
That was sadly short lived as he heard the door to the bedroom being scratched and kicked as the sound of groans and moans get louder and raw.
The sound made him flinch as he started to slowly understand he needs to leave, now.
The way down was only 6 feet from the ground, he could do it if he jumped but he could twist his ankle and be useless to Randall the-
BANG
"Skrew it" he hissed as he climbed out the window and held on tightly to the frame of the window.
"Marc, wait, hold, there has to be another way."
Steven protested as his eyes were wide and his worried expression written all over his face.
"Don't have much choice bud."
Marc mumbled under his breathe as the sound of the door being smashed open was heard, Marc looked down and jumped.
Luckily for the 17 year old teenage boy that has a fixation with parkour and had seen video after video on how they did their tricks.
He bent his knees and rolled before laying on the ground.
His felt his heart beating out of his chest, he felt the thump in his ears but he was alive, he was fine.
"Marc!"
Randall was by his side in no time to help his brother up.
"It's okay, I'm fin-"
Soon both heard a thump and turned around to check what had caused that noise, Marc put a hand protectively in front of his brother.
The sight to see was that the one who had caused the noise was the infected, it had jumped out and fell to its death.
The brains scattered and face mangled, there were holes in its face, the infected looked decayed almost.
Both stared at the dead corpse in front of them as the image was now ingrained in their brain. The smell something no one could truly forget if they had tried.
They could feel the bile go up their throat but decided to swallow it back down.
"We need to go, now."
Marc said as he grabbed the other backpacks and handed them to Randall as they headed towards the car.
It was nothing special but it would do with the circumstances they were in, Marc got the keys from his pants and unlocked the doors, they shoved everything inside.
"Put your seat belt on."
Marc reminded his brother as his brother got in and grabbed the belt around him.
Marc turned on the car and the radio is turned on.
"We are getting news that the hospital is being overflowed with patients as this new virus is taking over. The US army is making head way towards cities to evacuate civilians, H-hey, no, g-get off me !"
The women's voice was cut off eventually and the sound of her screams made way as Marc turns off the radio.
He fixes the mirror of the car before he starts to drive on the road not saying a word. His parents haven't called back yet, he should send them a message.
"Marc?"
The small boys voice called out.
Marc looks at the review mirror to see what his brother need to say.
"Yeah?"
He whispered as he kept his gaze from the road to the mirror and back the road again.
"Are we gonna be okay?"
His brother voice was shaky and small unlike his more joyful and loud booming voice both were more use to.
Something in Marc and Steven shattered right there, his voice shouldn't sound like that. Ever. He didn't deserve this, they had to find a way to make it right, but first they need to get somewhere safe.
"Yeah, yeah buddy we're gonna be okay."
He tried comforting knowing he was pretty shit at it sometimes but his brother needed something to hold on to.
He kept driving for a while before he ended up at a cross path, one lead to the city and the other went father into almost nowhere for a while.
"Maybe to the city, the army might be there and can help us?" Steven said the review mirror as he was also stuck about it.
Marc thought, his parents were last in the city and most likely the army would be at the city getting the most populated away before going into individual houses.
"Shit."
He mumbled as he made a hard right and pressed it hard, the grip on the steering wheel tight that his knuckles were turning white at that point.
That is when he was hit with the worse thing that could happen now, traffic.
Cars were honking and beeping at each other as they stacked through each other.
His flip phone started to ring, finally.
"Mom, dad? Where are you guys?"
Marc asked as he looked behind and at the sides for a way to get through the crowd.
"Marc where are you guys, we just got out the city."
Dammit it! Wrong move.
"We just got to the city, thought you would be there, we had to leave the house."
Marc exclaimed as the car in front seem to have people arguing, fair enough.
"Marc, is your brother safe?"
His mother asked as he responded, one of the people infront got out the car shouting at the other.
"Yeah, he's fine."
Marc responded, the people were still arguing, it was too loud and his signal was giving out, so he got out the car.
"I'll be back bud, just talking to mom and dad."
He mouth to Randall who just nodded and hugged his backpack closer to his chest like it was a stuffed animal trying to comfort himself right now.
When he got out he went to the other side where a line was and the connection was automatically better.
"Marc, you need to leave the city, it's filled to the brim with cars and people."
His father warned as Marc saw someone running towards the people infront of him car.
"What the fu-"
He mumbled before the person now looking was a middle aged man that seemed ill, extremely ill jumped the person who was out of the car.
He flinched hard as he saw now that there was a group running and moaning like the one that had died on the ground at his house long gone now.
The guy was screaming and shouting in pain as the others were going towards the others cars, he dropped his flip phone as his parents were shouting on the other side.
All the could see is the guy being torn apart as the ill man bite the guy with no regard and seemingly no regret.
The flesh peeled of like orange skin as the man on the ground fought for his life, his eyes wide and awake. A fear like no other shown, the infected then dug its hands into the man's insides.
The man squirmed and yelled, his gut wrenching screams being heard, other were getting the idea that people were getting attacked and tried to get the other cars to move.
The headlights showed the grotesque aftermath as the man stopped moving and the ill man feeded off the neck of the man as the sticky residue of his blood smeared across his teeth and lips.
Suddenly he remembered
"Roro!"
He picked up the device from the ground and immediately went back to the car where an another one from the group was trying to break the glass of the door as Randall was screaming and crying for help.
Marc felt nothing as he grabbed the infected hair and pushed him down as he stomped his head on the concrete.
Over and over and over again up its face was no more.
The brains and blood being black with mixture of red.
His shoes were covered now with blood and chuncks of brain left behind of his aggressive protective nature taking over, all he saw red and now he came back.
He was heaving as he open the car door where Randall was, the cars were honking and there was too many lights as the sights of people fleshing being bit off were being shown off.
The ground of black having goop of blood and flesh decorated it as people were being torn by others who seemed out of control.
He need to get them our of here and now, the car was a no go so they need to go on foot.
He got his crying brother and picked him up and got both his brothers and dads backpack and swung them on his back, he put his mom's backpack on his brother back.
Randall was crying as Marc held him tightly and pushed his head down on his shoulder as to make sure he couldn't see what was happening.
The smell was getting to be too much, others were doing the same as the infected started to jump others who weren't fast enough.
"Your ok, we're ok."
He kept encouraging to his brother as his shoulder was getting soaked with salty tears that fell from his brothers eye's but he didn't care right now.
He ran to the other side of the car his heart was heavy, he was responsible for his brothers safety and almost got him killed if not traumatized for life now.
The soles of his feet burned as he kept running the conversation with his parents kept coming up, he didn't get to answer them. They were probably freaking out, shit.
He was fucking this all up. He would have to find a way to fix this eventually.
He panted as he finally reached the edge of the long road and got to the cross road again this time heading left as he carried his brother in his arms as sniffles and little whimpers were all that came out.
"We're okay, we're gonna be okay. We're gonna see mom and dad soon and everything will be okay Roro?"
He tried to get the boy to calm down and he got a small nod and another hiccup of the boy trying to calm himself down.
Marc could only do so much, he knew this.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I told you to go that way."
Steve said in the back of his mind and Marc answered back.
"It's okay, we didn't know."
He comforted Steven as he slowed down, the screams were farther now. They were safe, for now.
The road was mostly empty, the only light coming from farther away, the sound of helicopters not being too far now.
The army was getting close, the sound of firearms being release made its way to his ears. He started to quicken his pace.
His phone was ringing but he couldn't answer, not right now. He was carrying his brother, the brother he swore when he was born to keep safe and so his focus needed to be there right now.
He was sweating now, the band t-shirt he wore sticking to his body now, he stopped and put the boy down to take a breathe.
"Randall, listen to me."
He said using his brothers name instead of his nickname as he bent down and cupped his baby brothers face to make him look at him.
"We need to keep going, okay. I need you to be strong right now, okay?"
He said as Randall looked at him small sniffles still left behind from the scare, he looked at his older brothers eyes but looked down as he felt the tears well up again.
"I-I can't, I can't d-do it."
He muttered as he couldn't look at his brother pleading eyes to look at him and understand.
"Yes, yes you can."
Marc gently lifted his head to make his brother look at him, his dark brown eyes nicer, warmer, but still firm.
"No, no I can't. I want mom and dad, you said we'd find them."
Randall accused, he was scared, he saw someone get eaten and bit alive and thought he was next.
Marc wanted nothing more than to take that damn memory now ingrained in his brothers head and stomp on it till it was nothing.
"We will, just things are not going to plan Roro. But will that stop us?"
Marc says with a new thing of an idea, making this a game, get his mind away from everything else.
"No."
Randall answered as he looked into his brothers eyes.
"And why not?"
Marc said with a small playful smirk he uses to get more into character with his brother, it's something to let his and Randall's guard down.
"Cause we have no fear!"
Randall said with more confidence, he was starting to relax as the tears have now long been dried and left marks on his cheeks.
"That’s right! Now come on, we aren't far from the treasure now, we just need to go across that field and then we can look for more clues."
Marc added as he fixed his backpack straps and tugs on the ends to make them tighter to his back.
Soon he felt a small hand latch onto his he looked down and already knew who it was, Randall had a more determined expression.
That was better, that was so much better.
"Lets go then."
Marc voice echoed in all the destruction of the world now around them, he has no idea what to do if he is honest. He has no plan but to just protect his brother.
Randall tugs on his hand and they start to walk through grass as the sounds of screams are muffled, they rather focus on each other than people tearing each other apart.
His flip phone is silent, he hopes it would rings soon so that he know that his parents are okay.
"They probably are, don't worry. They have each other like we have each other."
Steven's reassuring voice echoed in the mind they shared, it was nice sometimes to have another person with you to share a body with, at least Marc thought so.
Steven was the ground he needed sometimes when Marc started to panic or couldn't get the thoughts out of his head.
Steven provided the warmth that Marc sometimes couldn't provide, or he wished he could give. So much Marc wished he could give.
The grass reached their ankles, the rest of the way was dark and loud, so loud.
The grass crunched underneath their shoes, they held hands as they walked through the grass dead and alive.
There was a hill about to peak now and they made it to the top, it was a little steep the way down but they could manage.
"Hey!"
A voice called out and soon they were out of their thoughts, both boys turned around to see an army man holding his gun towards them.
Marc instinct immediately put his brother behind him, the shield he knew he could be in case.
"What are you boys doing here, did you not hear to announcement!?"
The soldier exclaimed as the flashlight was burning into their eyes but couldn't look away. Frozen in place with no real way of how to make this work.
"Did you hear me boys!"
The man yelled again this time his tone harsh against their ears.
"Y-yes, sorry. Yeah we did sir, but me and brother had to leave, one of those ill people got into our home and we had to leave."
Marc explained as his voice cracked slightly at the beginning as he had found his voice again.
Randall held his brothers hand tighter and hid behind him as best he could.
The man lowered his gun the light finally going down and the darkness enveloping them as he felt his heart in his throat.
The sound of a radio went off and the soilder picked up his radio and started to tune in.
"Yeah, Robin reporting, found two boys, both were walking away from the massacre at the road from Deadway Lane to Boston Ave Drive..."
Marc watched as the man went ahead and talked to whoever was on the other line.
"Massacre, that's what they're calling it now."
Steven intervened as he thought about it, he was shouting at Marc when he saw the whole thing, he felt like his heart stopped that moment those people started to jump people.
"Yeah, that is what is was Steven."
Marc replied in his mind before he felt a small tug and looked to his side.
"Can you lift me, my legs hurt."
Randall whispered, Marc sighed a little tired, he felt like he was on overdrive these past couple of hours.
But that didn't mean he wasn't going to pick the kid up, it was his responsibility as of now to help his baby brother not die from all of this.
He crouched down a bit before putting his arm behind his legs and another one behind his arms before lifting him from the ground.
The lighted shined back on them blinding both him and Randall.
"No one said you could move!"
The man shouted as the gun was pointed at them again his hand in the trigger, Marc froze as Randall wrapped his arms around his brothers neck.
"I just picked him up sir, he's tired."
Marc mumbled as he held his brother closer to him.
"We all are kid, still doesn't allow you to make sudden movement, especially at a time like this. Put him down."
The man said his tone ice cold with almost no emotion.
His radio went off again, his glare lingered on the boys before he went to answer.
Marc jaw tightened, he felt himself holding back from saying anything right now.
"When are we gonna find mom and dad?"
Randall muttered, his voice so small in that moment.
"Soon Roro, soon."
Marc answered with a little nod, he looked around hoping his parents would come and rescue him and his brother from this guy.
He knew what he was asking for was a really big favor but he hoped he would find them soon, he missed them.
"Yes sir, no they are not injured. Yes sir, yes sir, yes...sir."
The man finally said.
Marc looked back the man who just went silent, his gun pointed to the ground but something went up Marc spine, like an instinct. Danger.
They were in danger.
The light shined on them again making Marc step back for a second.
"I'm sorry kids."
The man said, Marc barely had time to even react to the guys hushed yet soft and pitiful words.
He saw the man put his finger on the trigger.
"Shit!"
Steven and Marc both thought before Randall was all that was in his head.
He turned his body as he heard the depthing sound of the rounds trying to hit their bodies erupt in the darkness and echoed into the night.
Randall screamed.
Marc and Steven were silent. At least they think they were.
Their bodies tumbled down to the ground as Marc let go of Randall and they rolled down the hill together.
Suddenly it was quiet again, Marc felt pain from the fall, his head pounding along with his heart.
His ribs screamed and he thinks he twisted his hand when they rolled down that steep hill.
He couldn't see where his baby brother went but knew that he was at least nearby, ge heard footsteps.
Then he remembered the gun he still had in his pocket, it had flied in the air and landd on the ground next to him, his hand reached for it.
Before he knew it another shot rang out and a small thud was heard.
Marc hand trembled as the weight of the metal death in his hands finally weighed.
He looked down and there laid the man the gun laying on the ground as blood spilled and splattered like spilled milked was on the dry brownish yellow grass.
He felt sick.
"What did you do."
Steven said in all this. What else could he say.
Marc had killed someone, not someone who was infected but was alive.
The ringing in his ear finally caught something, it sound like whimpers, like crying.
He turned around and saw his brother who was laying on the ground, his hands near his stomach, then he saw it.
The small puddle of blood starting to form under him.
"No."
Marc whisperer to no one, no one that could hear him or was alive at this point.
He crawled his way over to his brother ignoring the pain he still had.
He looked down and felt the bile rise again.
"It's okay, your okay."
He tried to comfort his brother who was heaving and gasping as tears ran down his cheeks.
His brother could only whine in pain as Marc tried to move his hands from his bleeding stomach.
He couldn't say anything but his tightness on the grip of his shirt was enough to tell Marc he doesn't want his to move his hands.
"I gotta see it Roro, come on."
Despite the horrible sounds that came out of his brother way of protesting to Marc, he moved the small hands and saw the large crimson blood that had now coated his brother t-shirt.
His stripped designed shirt now being taken over by the crinsom darkeness in the color of his blood.
Marc eyes burned, his hands were shaking, he needed to stop.
Stop the bleeding, that's what he needed to do.
Marc put his hands on the spot and put pressure, his brother yelped as he dug his nails into Marc's arms.
"I know, I know it hurts."
Marc said, he didn't know, he didn't know because it wasn't him that got shot, it was his brother, his baby brother had a bullet go through him and now he was bleeding in a dead field.
His brother nails drew blood but Marc didn't care, he needed to get him help.
"I gotta get you up Roro, ok. Work with me here baby."
Marc said adding in the last thing he ever called his brother. His brother didn't always like to be called the baby of the family but that was what he was, he was the baby and Marc was the oldest.
Steven was the oldest. They were the oldest and their brother was the baby.
A baby they failed to protect.
Slowly his hand went behind his brother small back, he felt the blood covering his hand. It was warm and sticky, he hated the feeling.
Randall yelped and whimpered as he grabbed onto Marc shirt now being decorated with his metallic blood that was coming out of his small body.
His small fist shaking as he tried to get up, his brother trying to reassure him.
"I know, I know, come on, please!"
Marc choked out as his brother was dying in his arms.
He looked around for any help, anybody to do anything. There was no one, he was alone, then it got quiet.
He felt a small body go limp, he looked down his brothers eyes still open but there was no light. There was nothing.
"Hey, no, no. Don't you do this to me Roro, come on."
Steven was sobbing in the shadows, he could sense his despair, his anguish, his sadness.
Steven eventually took control as Marc let him.
"Come on, we have to see mum and dad, don't you want to find them."
Steven softer voice echoed as he held the brother he never really got know in his arms as he tried to get him to move but there was nothing.
He pulled his arms to bring him closer.
Steven felt the tears fall even before he knew, their brothers eyes were lifeless as they looked to the sky the moon and stars reflecting in his eyes now.
Steven pulled his small body against their chest and rocked him back and forth just like they did when he was born.
Little thing was so small and so fragile yet his screams and cries did not match up to his size.
Now there was nothing, there was just him and the sound of the world ending in that back ground, no mum, no dad, no roro.
"Come back, come back. We promised to find mum and dad. We still got to finish our game."
Steven whispered into their baby brothers ears but nothing came, it was quiet.
Steven liked the quiet, but not this one, this one felt lonely.
"Don't take him away, don't take him, please..."
Steven choked on his tears as he tried to breathe, God what were their parents going to say. They were suppose to protect him.
They failed, they failed and now their brother was dead.
Steven felt fatigued and before he knew it, it went dark.
Jake took over, the tears that fell kept falling. He failed, he failed them all.
He was suppose to be the one to take over if things were too much and he failed. How could he fail at his only job.
He held the little brother that didn't even know he existed in his arms as he put his forehead and leaned into the hair of his now dead little brother
This wasn't suppose to happen. None of this was suppose to happen.
His anger was everywhere, he looked at the man responsible for the ache in his heart, the emptiness that now formed into their once full heart.
Then man was wheezing, he wasn't dead.
He slowly let go of his brother and laid him gently on the ground.
"Ahora vuelvo, Roro."
He said as his eyes went to darkness from the sadness and anger to just empty brown eyes.
He got up and picked up the gun, he would finish the deed, for his alters, for his parents, for Roro.
The man lifted his head slightly only to be met with cold metal pointed at him.
"Vete al el infierno cabrón."
Is all he said before the sound of the gun went off, the man was truly dead now.
But he wasn't satisfied. He would never be.
He shot his head again, and again, and again.
The tears ran down his cheeks with every shot that went off. He wanted the pain to stop, to just end. But it would never be enough.
Finally he threw the gun down, it had no bullets, it had done its job.
Unlike him.
He picked up the weapon that murder his brother and took the light off before turning it off, it still had rounds.
He swung it around and then went back to where their brother laid.
He sat down and looked at their brother, he wasn't in pain anymore now.
Nothing would scare him anymore, not where he was going at least.
He gently closed his eyes and cried. He was panting, and his neck burned. They needed to leave, but how could they without their baby brother.
They could never truly leave him. Ever.
There you go! The first chapter of this Moonknight TLOU AU, don't worry there will be more and sorry for the wait. School has been on my head for the most part but I will come up on top so hopefully this will make it up.
Hope you enjoyed reading this! Again comments about this would be nice to be able to see where I can make improvements on this whole thing as this story goes.
I have no idea why, but some part if me wants to write a fanfic about Moonknight but a tlou version. Like the same thing but with twist here in there, I feel like it would be so cool to read.
I don't know, just an idea, I already have like a Playlist for it in my head and all, is that weird? Hope not, anyways, just wanted that out in the world.
Bye 👋
-Sky
MISSION: Be Normal About That Thing
STATUS: [FAILED]
homesick.
fluff. joel miller x fem!reader
summary: after the new year's party in Jackson and Joel's fight with Ellie, you can't help but worry about him, so you keep him company on that cold night.
...
The hum of guitars and laughter fades into the snowy distance as you walk toward the neighborhood. Each step leaves soft prints behind in the thick white layer blanketing the ground. Your hands stay buried deep in your pockets, too afraid to let them out—afraid the cold will sink into your bones and steal the feeling from your fingers.
Most of the houses are dark, their porches swallowed in shadow, except for one. A single light glows dimly above a familiar doorway. You recognize it instantly.
The soft strum of a guitar drifts toward you, sweet and aching. A smile tugs at your lips, faint but full of meaning. You can see Joel sitting on his porch, strumming his guitar.
Gaze softening you continue walking toward him, and you recognize the notes being played on the instrument. You also recognize the look in his eyes, the same he held back at the party when the scene with Ellie unfolded.
He continues playing slowly, his eyes fixed on the instrument but somewhat distant, clouded by thoughts. Your heart skips a beat as you remember his eyes, the way he looked around at that moment back at the party.
You step quietly up the path, the snow muffling your steps. Joel looks up as you near, his face softening the second he sees you. The guitar stills beneath his touch.
"Hey kiddo..." he musters quietly, in a tone he thinks he has reserved only for you. The nickname makes you warm inside.
Leaning your shoulder against one of the porch columns, you smile—small, almost apologetic. “Happy New Year.”
It’s been hours since midnight, but you hadn’t seen him during the toast, not after… well, not after everything. “You okay?” you ask, careful not to pry, because you know him.
Silence creeps in between you. You still keep your hands inside your pockets. Joel sighs, pulling his guitar from his lap and placing it gently on the floor beside his seat.
"Aint have t'worry 'bout me, darlin'..." The southern accent slipping through his tongue, but you know better than to not worry, not after what happened. "and happy new year to you too, sweetheart"
You smile again but you dont say anything, not like you would normally do in other ocasions. You draw your lips in a thin line as you keep looking at him. Your gaze turns worried again.
"Can I keep you company?" you finally ask, and you wonder why do you ask, and he does it too. He knows that even if he said no in that moment you will still stay there anyway.
Joel sighs and tries to look away from you. He tries to keep his façade on, but he knows... he knows you know. He knows you know he has grown soft. He tends to tell himself it's because of his age perhaps, but he can't even fool himself with that. He feels the weight of your gaze, expecting him to let you in.
Joel, even though he wouldn't dare to admit it out loud, feels like your eyes melt him inside, so he tries to gaze at the pitch black sky instead, but the flutter in his chest doesn't dissapear... it never does.
Maybe, just maybe, he says to himself, it's because he feels softer these past few months and years since he stablished himself in Jackson, and your eyes hold the warmth he's been craving. Or maybe, perhaps, it's the way he has felt so lonely lately, but... it's not like that. He has realized, or realizes there in that moment at least, that he doesn't crave any other kind of warmth that doesn't come from your eyes, and the way you stare at him.
Sometimes, in nights like these, while he lays in his bed, he thinks of you, and your eyes. And whenever he goes out, he secretly wishes he will see you before you go to your job, or run into you somewhere in town, just to see your beautiful face.
Things haven't been great lately for him, and tonight he feels the most empty after the party and everything that happened with Ellie. And you... you look so beautiful, he wouldn't have ever thought years ago, not even in his wildest and sweetest dreams, that he will be in the presence of such a beautiful girl like you, just the two alone.
He feels it—the way your eyes look at him. The warmth in them that breaks past everything he’s built up.
"C'mere..." he only limits himself to mutter that.
Your smile is soft—tinged with sadness—as you step toward him. Joel rises from his chair, waiting for you.
Once you are face to face, the space between you two is closed. You tell yourself it's because of the cold that you seek the closeness, but you know it's not. You pull your hands from inside your pockets, and you quietly reach for both of his hands. You watch as Joel's posture and gaze shifts for a moment as you take his calloused hands in yours.
Your eyes turn concerned as you feel the coldness of his hands against your skin, bringing them to your face, trying to warm them up with your breath. Joel’s chest tightens. The way you do that—so tender, like he’s fragile—it hits something buried deep. He notices your hands are cold too, your nose and cheeks flushed pink from the winter. He resists the urge to cup your face right then and there.
“Let’s head inside,” Joel says gruffly, his voice dipping into that stern edge he wears when he’s worried. “Don’t want ya gettin’ sick.”
You nod and let go of his hands. He clears his throat and heads to his front door, opening it for you to get inside, where the warmth of his home welcomed you like a blanket. The scent of aged wood, faint tobacco, and something like old leather surrounds you. It smells like him.
The house is modest—lived in. A few stacks of books sit by the worn armchair, a record player rests in the corner, a flannel blanket folded over the couch. The walls carry warmth in their deep brown tones, and soft light from the fireplace flickers against them, casting golden shadow.
You move toward the fire, holding your hands out to it and rubbing them together. The relief is instant. Behind you, Joel steps closer, his shoulders brushing yours as he joins you. Even if you don't actually feel him because of the many layers of clothes you both have, it still feels intimate.
The warm light from the fireplace cast shadows against his rough features. You stare at the curve of his nose, the deep set of his eyes, the wrinkles, the silver at his temples and beard, and the bags under his eyes. You had never seen anyone so handsome. He has been the subject of your thoughts ever since you came to Jackson. And even though he didn't seem like it at first or to anyone but you, he was so sweet, the sweetest man. Contrary to what everyone in town had tell you or keeps telling you to this day.
“You weren’t at the toast,” you say finally. “I figured maybe…” You make a pause. “Just give her some time…” you whisper instead, the words slipping out.
Joel sighs and closes his eyes, a hand raking through his hair as he turns and sinks into the couch slowly, muscles and joints sore from days of work.
“‘M tryin’ my best,” he says, voice thick with something he’s holding back. You follow and sit beside him, removing your jacket as you turn to face him, looking for his eyes.
"I know..." you murmur. "It's your first time going through this, dealing with teens is not easy... but I can see you are always alone, and after..." you pause for a second before continuing, debating on how to put what you wanted to say with the correct words. "after what happened tonight, I- I get worried about you too."
His head turns to you once those words come out of your mouth.
"'m fine darlin'" Joel says, one of his arms coming to rest on the back of the couch behind your neck. "'m used to being alone... stop worrying that pretty head of yours". He tries to muster up a smile, but only one of the corners of his mouth tilts up in a makeshift smile.
"Don't lie, I know you." you say as you lean your head against his shoulder. "You are always here with your guitar or working. I know you say you are used to being alone but... I also know you don't really want to." Joel swears his heart almost skips a beat when you wrap your arms around his torso, cuddling his side.
"Sweetheart..." He says, one of his hands tilting your chin up, trying to look for your eyes. "You ain't gotta worry 'bout an old man like me, you are so young—"
"Don't start Joel, because you know I dont care". You warn him as you roll your eyes at him. " Look me in the eyes and tell me to leave then..." Joel sighs at your comment, knowing he won't win. He groans as he adjusts his body on the couch to let you cuddle on his chest. A smile creeps up on your features once you know he won't lecture you.
His other arm comes to wrap on your front as you throw your legs over his. His chin rests against the top of your head as he exhales, getting comfortable. You nuzzle your head on his chest, the soft fabric of his flannel and his smell conforts you.
"Don't like seeing you like this... alone and sad, I- I can't stand it." You mumble against his chest. "Let me stay with you."
Joel feel his breath hitch at you request. He knows he can't deny you, and he tries to fight it but... tonight, tonight he feels exhausted. His heart cries out for you as much as his body does. Lips press on the top of your head, and Joel inhales the sweet scent of you shampoo. A knot threatens to form on the back of his throat, the moment snapping and pulling at his heart strings. He does not want to break down, not in front of you but it seems like you always know. Without warning he feels a single tear fall from his left eye.
"Stay..." the words come out a little broken from the strain on his voice, and he mentally curses himself. He feels you reaching for his hand, placing yours on top of his. He moves it so your palm is against his now. His hands are worn out, big and calloused, thick skin from the heavy work and survival years.
Joel takes away the hand to reach for your face, his fingers finding the soft skin of your cheeks, stroking it lovingly. Your eyes close as you relish on the closeness.
He reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes look for yours. You finally stare up at him, your face turning concerned at the sight of his teary eyes. You open your mouth to say something but just before you know it Joel speaks.
"Shh, 's okay... 's okay babygirl" Joel says as he watches your eyes full of concern threatening to fill with tears too. His fingers keep brushing the hair out of your face softly as he inches closer to your face.
"Darlin'..." he whispers, your lips almost touching, as his eyes bore into yours. "C-can I kiss you?"
The way he asks makes your heart melt, your gaze drifting to his lips. You only manage to nod before he connects your lips in a tender kiss.
Joel is in cloud nine at that very moment as he relishes in the softness of your lips against his chapped ones, and the way it's all he imagined you would feel like. One of his hands stays in the back of your head, tangling in the strands of soft hair, the other holds your chin gently. You are all he has ever dreamt of.
He breaks the kiss slowly, and pecks your lips once, twice after. His forehead comes to rest against yours.
Joel watches the firelight flicker across your face like it’s something sacred. He hasn’t said much since you curled into him, but the weight of his silence is louder than words.
After a while, his voice breaks the quiet.
“I shouldn’t want this,” he says, barely louder than the crackling wood. “Shouldn’t want you.”
You look up at him, confusion flickering in your gaze.
He sighs, looks away, jaw clenched. “I’m not a good man,” he says flatly. “I’ve done things. Bad things. Things that’d make you look at me different if you knew the whole truth.”
You open your mouth, but he shakes his head, already bracing himself for what he thinks you’ll say.
“I look at you,” he cuts in, voice straining, “and I feel like I’m starvin’. Like you’re the first warm thing I’ve had in years and I don’t know how to hold it without breakin’ it.”
You reach up, gently touching his cheek. He flinches, just barely—like he’s not sure he’s allowed to be touched like this.
“I don’t care about what you’ve done,” you whisper.
His eyes meet yours, filled with disbelief, hope, and something aching.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he admits, voice cracking. “But wantin’ don’t mean I deserve it.”
You lean in closer, forehead resting against his.
“Then let me decide what you deserve,” you breathe. “Because all I want… is you.”
Joel swallows hard, hands trembling slightly as they cup your face.
“I don’t know how to love without fear,” he says, honest and broken. “But if you’ll have me, I’ll try. I’ll try every damn day.”
Your lips find his—slow, tender, full of everything words couldn’t carry.
And when he kisses you back, it’s not as a man who thinks he deserves it. It’s as a man who’s been given something he thought he’d never feel again.
Hope. Warmth. A second chance.
You stay wrapped in each other’s arms, and though nothing outside has changed, Joel’s world has. Just a little.
Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, he lets himself believe. So that night, you stay.
i am NOT off my pedro pascal insanity yet. any time i watch anything he's in i feel like winona ryder when she's all "here he is telling me about his poor dead mother and all i can think about is his hands unbuttoning my dress." joel miller im sorry i was looking at your biceps when your daughter died. maybe you could call me 'baby' too... also sorry about gnawing on my knuckles and screeching in deranged hunger when you were torturing a guy. oberyn martell is talking about the tragic death of his sister and i am NOT listening. let's make out.
as someone who was weirdly and staunchly set against pedro pascal for like, five years, (for no reason either) and declared firmly that i did not find him attractive, this whole new thing where i actually like him a lot and he makes me giggle like an idiot is throwing me off badly. i feel like i'm going insane. i like him so much now. i got furious over a youtube comment section saying he was a weak, overused actor, all fired up like someone kicked my DOG. i'm out here poring over movies and skits and clips like it's religious text. i would ask to be saved but i am resigned to my fate and also i like it here.
TLOU | FUNGUS (Contains spoilers, plus also, you know, death and zombies and so forth)
It’s not often I dabble in editing live-action, being more of an amv-maker, but I was too enchanted by this concept not to make it!
Song: FUNGUS by the Narcissist Cookbook (also on YouTube and Spotify) Show: The Last of Us (HBO) Editing Program: iMovie
They are on VACATION. Don't BOTHER THEM.
Insp.
Final pic from @abbystanaccount
she better be built like a fucking tank you cowards
I had so much fun working on this im so glad you like it🩷🩷🩷
I am screaming about this amazing piece that the wonderful @hypnotisedfireflies had commissioned for me by @beerose12 of Tommy and Maria from my fic Boy I Was Back Then.
It's based on this passage from the fic.
“Me too, Maria, darlin'. To think I coulda missed gettin’ to spend the rest of my life with you.” Tommy responds, sidling Rook over so that he and Maria are almost knee to knee.
“That woulda been a damn shame, sugar,” She drawls, her voice low in an imitation of his own.
“It woulda,” He laughs, taking off his hat and reaching over to smack her legs with it lightly. She laughs and grabs the hat from his hand to plop on top of her head.
“This is mine now,” She gives him a sultry wink and blows him a kiss."
:D
Bella Ramsey (Lyanna Mormont) has been in the news a lot because of The Last of Us now airing on HBO. In one recent interview she came out as nonbinary.
Ahead of the series’ debut, she sat down with The New York Times for an interview published online Wednesday and was candid about how she identifies.
“I guess my gender has always been very fluid,” Ramsey said. “Someone would call me ‘she’ or ‘her’ and I wouldn’t think about it, but I knew that if someone called me ‘he’ it was a bit exciting.”
[ … ]
As for pronouns, Ramsey said she would check “nonbinary” if it’s an option on a form. “I’m very much just a person,” she added. “Being gendered isn’t something that I particularly like, but in terms of pronouns, I really couldn’t care less.”
First art of the new year and it’s the comfort character meme. XD
Nobody forget your daily click!!🫶🏻🫶🏻
The only thing keeping me together after this episode is that in the last scene in Jackson you can see in the background that at least some of the dogs survived
just watched the first two episodes of tlou
