elsa. twenty-one. she/they. about me. my ao3.
â request status: open !
supernatural.
the last of us.
stranger things.
Š lunshimmer, 2026. do not feed my work to ai.
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elsa. twenty-one. she/they. about me. my ao3.
â request status: open !
supernatural.
the last of us.
stranger things.
Š lunshimmer, 2026. do not feed my work to ai.
The Last of Us Masterlist
fluff đ | smut â¤ď¸âđĽ | angst đ
non/dub-con âď¸âđĽ | omegaverse đĽ
Joel x Reader
The Hunter's Omega P2 P3 P4 P5âď¸âđĽđĽđâ¤ď¸âđĽđ
áŕźáŤ Tess Servopoulos áŕźáŤ
fluff- âď¸ | smut- âď¸ | angst-đĽ
Blurbs/Drabbles: Firefighter Tess, Sleepless Nights
Autumn in Jackson âď¸
Out of Luck đĽ
more to come.......
Ë. áľáľ đđśđđđđđđžđđđ
ă â¸â¸.áâ ૮ ⤠⤠ŕžŕ˝˛á
⥠đđđ đđđđ đđ đđ
⥠đđđđđđ ૮â Ëśáľ áľ áľËś âá
⥠đđđ đđđđ
" No one wins but somehow they still played"
Chapter 13 - Joel
Chapter Summary : You're back on patrol with Joel, torn between pity and anger.
       Tommy didnât pay you a visit on Thursday. Or maybe he had and you werenât there. You went to the dining hall at noon, hoping to catch him after his patrol to maybe receive a wink, a smile, or even share an understanding smile but you had found yourself all alone.
So you reflected on what happened with him the day before.
   The morning after New Year had been tougher than you expected. Sure, the sex was perfect and Tommy was amazing, but him admitting he used to be a Firefly had hit you hard. Especially considering in what emotional state he was after confessing how he hated this part of his life.
Not as much as his time with Joel though.Â
Lucky for you.
The irony.
You havenât known Tommy for a long time, but you hadnât taken him as someone who would break down in front of you. His confidence was an illusion he kept for the town members but you didnât imagine it would shatter this quickly with you. Yet he did confess the torments Joel put him through, because he trusted you, or because he saw a similar pain in you.
Deep down within yourself, even after concealing your lie, you had this puny, tiny hope that he would understand your perspective if youâd confess to him, and it terrified you.Â
You were terrified to let something slip. Terrified to be so comfortable and drunk with love that youâd say something you shouldnât at the wrong time.
 Terrified to say you were part of the Salt Lake City crew after a loving embrace in your bed.Â
Terrified of his reaction if you would even dare telling him you were involved in the making of the vaccine the whole world could only dream of.
Terrified to confess the vaccine didnât only fail.
Tommy was a good man. Your allegiance to the Fireflies would destroy him.Â
Your lies kill him.Â
The new beginning you wanted might not come this easily anymore and you would have to fight and lie for it, continuously.
The worst part was that lying to him was so easy. Youâve seen it in his eyes and in his loving gaze. He was too broken to discern the truth anymore. He just wanted to adore and love you.
His brother on the other handâŚ
 Today was your third patrol with Joel. It has been two weeks since you hurt your ankle, and you havenât missed him at all. And now that youâve learned more about him, you werenât sure how to act.Â
Pity for his daughter.
 Anger because of Tommy.
When he crosses the entrance of the stables in his weathered jacket and dark jeans, wearing his usual grim face and his rifle in his back, you feel torn.Â
You should be hating him for what he forced Tommy to do and yet, you canât go past the veil of sorrow in his narrow eyes, those damn hollow eyes which probably lost their sparkle after resting one last time on his daughter.
Sarah.Â
The name is like the echo of a forbidden song, a rumour you werenât supposed to know. Just thinking about it feels wrong.
Youâre already on the way out with Betty when he passes next to you. Heâs so menacing. His eyes imprisoned by his frowned eyebrows, you barely see a darkness shining through when he looks down your foot.
âIâm still probably faster than you,â you hint at his lame leg.
          He would have ignored you a few weeks ago, so youâre not sure if itâs because of Tommy or just because heâs grown accustomed to you, but he answers, his tired and gravelly voice irking your spine.
âThatâs it? Thatâs your way to start the day? By pissing me off?â he growls and gets to his horse before joining you out in the snow.
âWell, if you donât let me use my fucking rifle, Iâll probably keep going,â
He grimaces, sighs heavily and presses his legs against his horseâs flank, trotting to the main door in order to escape you.
When you leave the walls of Jackson, Tommyâs staring at the both of you from the walls, wearing his red and beige checkered jacket; his hair tied again in a tight bun. You canât really see the features on his face, but you know heâs worried about you. Things have changed in two weeks. He nods in your direction and watches as you both disappear in the forest trail.
     Somehow, you know itâs going to be okay. You may fight. You may scream at each other, but youâll be okay.Â
 A silent hour passes before you reach the outcrop you fought the clicker at. The view is clear; the sun is high. You donât feel as cold as the last time.
Itâs gonna be okay.Â
   When the two of you dismount, you see its remnants, or at least its silhouette swallowed by the snow. They didnât bother pushing it out of the way. Your jacket gets smaller around your neck and your throat dries as you recall the fight youâve barely escaped.Â
    You hear its clicks and croaking. You feel his nails in your leg. You see his snapping mouth and the moulded cordyceps on his greyish skin. You remember your panicked screams no one heard. The jacket forbids you to breathe, like the hand of the creature ready to snap your neck in half.Â
You almost died that day.
You were so fucking focused on helping Tommy and what almost happened in the lookout you forgot how much it shook you to the core. Your hand shivers and you canât take your eyes from the silhouette, drawn back to that day as the fights rewinds over and over in your head.Â
Clicks. Croaks.
Nails. Skin. Leg.
Teeth. Snaps. Mouth.
Screams. Fight. Survive. Survive.
Something pulls you out of your thoughts, and you turn around abruptly in pure terror in a fight or flight response, your knife is in your hand faster than you think before realizing itâs only Joel. You stop in your tracks, panting and shaking, the knife in your hand way too close to his chest as sweat rolls down your forehead. Itâs just him.Â
Just Joel. Not a clicker.
Joel stares you up and down, unimpressed, his dark eyes judging your lack of discernment.Â
âGet your shit together princess,â
You donât even acknowledge his comment, too shaken up by your own disproportionate reaction.Â
You do need to keep your shit together if you want to keep going on patrol. Any incident and Tommy would get too scared to let you go out, and if you stabbed his brother, god knows what would be his reaction.
 You put away the knife, still trembling.
âSorry, didnât mean to, I gotââ
ââ I know,â he cuts, already on his way to the outcrop view, his rifle in his hand. He doesnât pay attention to you anymore.
For someone who didnât trust you, he was way too careless. Maybe it was your time to prove him your worth.
You inhale and take your rifle next to him, ready to shoot whether he wants it or not.
âWeâve discussed this already, put it back,âhe grumbles.
  You donât look at him, donât listen to him and fill the cartridge with bullets in steady moves until he grabs the barrel and pulls it violently to the side.
âdo you fuckinâ listen when I talk to you? Put that back,âÂ
    His eyebrows gathered too close together, his mouth downturned in a buried rage and the barrel so thin he could bend it with his rugged hands, Joel tenses up.Â
He hates that you donât listen to him. He hates that Tommy doesnât see the danger in you. He hates how bold you are because of his brotherâs promise not to hurt you.
âI told you Joel, let me use my fucking rifle, we both know Iâ
ââ I donât fuckinâ care,â he comes so close to you that you need to step back, âI donât give a damn that youâre a good shoot, I donât care that you fuck my little brother, you ainât gonna hold a damn weapon when youâre out with me,â
You freeze, unable to find a word to snap back at him.
So much for keeping it a secret.
  He steps towards you once more; his nose pinched with disgust, the dangerous light in his dark eyes flickering in anger.His lips are trembling from restraining himself but he scoffs.
âYeah, I know youâve been fuckinâ him. I told him to be careful, but no, Tommy always does whatever he wants,â
Thatâs it. Thatâs enough. The irritation bottled down explodes. You move into his space, your nose so close to his you can almost feel his skin against yours and dig your finger in his jacket, as threatening as you can make yourself be.Â
âAnd then what? Heâs not your fucking bait, youâre not the one who gives orders anymore, he can fuck me whenever he wants,â
His face drops and the hollow veil vanishes. The corner of his mouth twitches and he swallows painfully, but the rage is gone. His face is met with disbelief and confusion, and for a brief moment, torment and grief shine upon his gaze.
âHe told you?â his voice breaks in a whisper and he gazes at you for the first time, trying desperately to understand what Tommy saw in you to confess this part of their life.
âYes, because unlike you Joel,â you sigh, refraining to say words you would truly regret, âyour brother is willing to trust and build actual connections with other human beings,â
He swallows, but for once he doesnât snap back. Heâs shaken to his core. You, out of anyone, weren't supposed to get a glimpse of his past. Not when he was on your trail, not when the past could become a weapon in your hands. He couldnât risk being vulnerable because his brother talked too much.
âThose things youâre judging me for, they kept us alive,â his voice is low, a gravel-lined rumble that drags before reaching your ears.
âYou murdered innocent people Joel, and you traumatized your own brother with it, I donât call that survival,â
His jaw clenches and his fingers fidget against his jacket.
âLots of innocent people died, We did what needed to be done,â he shakes his head negatively, pain and anger intertwined in his eyes in a deadly battle, âYou canât be any better than me,â
You tried to save the world of course youâŚÂ
Something clicks in you like evidence.
âIs this why you donât trust me? Because I survived and you canât accept that I did without doing horrible things like you, is this it?â
     He swallows but the flicker of pain vanishes. He forgets about his brother and remembers the reason he got you out there on patrol with him. Loathing appears on his face. On every wrinkle, on every twitch of his face, on the pinching of his lips, you can see the disgust he has for you.
âYou wanna know why princess?â heâs on you again, but you donât flinch, âWe saw you from afar when those stalkers attacked you and your little friend. You were nowhere able to shoot. And then two weeks later you turn into an unmatched killing machine?â He smirks, â How long did you survive, you said? Three weeks in the wild at the same time the numbers of infected increased near our walls, all of you coming from the South?â Something ainât right.â
Your answer is suspended in the air.Â
You didnât think he would piece the last fact together but heâs not far and you realize that heâs not only dangerous because heâs unpredictable and strong but because heâs also smart and observant.
âYour pretty little face wonât fool me, I recognize someone whoâs willing to do anything to survive, âhe points at you in a terrifying smirk,â and you princess, are one of them, and my brother is a fool to trust you,â
â Then pretend. I donât care if you donât trust me, just play the part, let me be useful,â
He ignores you, â where do you come from?âÂ
âThe southâ
â WHERE !âhis voice tears like a shredded roar ripping through an old wound, and you shudder.
 âEverywhere Joel, we moved all the time,â you lie on the spot, âwe thought going North would be safer,â
âAnd only you survived ? I donât buy it,â
You neither. You wouldnât have survived without Laura. It had nothing to do with your skills.
âEnough Joel, the past is in the past, Iâm here now and I wonât move,â
He sneers, his anger becoming a cruel attitude, âIâm the one asking questions and you should damn answer,â
âOr what?â you fight back, âYou canât touch me, you canât hurt me ! What are you going to do?â
âOh princess, youâre too arrogant. I could strangle you right now Tommy would still pick my side,â
â Would he?â
â he did for many years,â
âbecause of your daughter Joel, because he was ready to damn his own soul to protect yours !â
Joel stops again, too stunned to speak. The well of pain in his eyes overflows and his upper lip trembles against his will, against all the strength he uses to not show any emotions.
âWhat did you just say?â
â I know about Sarah, Tommy âÂ
â â Donât say another word,â
You push your luck.
âI know she died a longââ
He jumps on you and grabs your jacket roughly, shaking you like a vulgar toy. His whole body trembles and his eyes widen like youâve never seen them before.Â
That was a mistake you shouldnât have made.
How dare Tommy talk about her to you ? What allowed him to talk about Sarah to someone he despised.
â You donâtâŚâ he pauses, his breath ragged with wrath, âYou donât get to talk about her, ever,â
A murderous gleam passes in his face. Years of restraint ready to be unleashed on you.Terror fills your body. But the pain slowly overpowers the hate in his eyes. His eyebrows gather upward, and the skin of his cheeks quivers.
   He can see her in his mind. Her curly hair, her smile, her humor. He hears them too. The whimpers in her cracked voice, blood gushing from her wound as she desperately tried to hold him. Her blood smeared all over his shirt. His frantics sobs and cries for help before Tommy told him it was too late. The silence that filled the place when he hugged her one last time.
 He recalls the numbness that went into his mind as she took her last breath,her body curled up in his arms as he rocked her in confusion.
A void had filled him in an instant. He couldnât hear. He couldnât talk. Her daughter, her blood. She had died in his arms because he hadnât been able to protect her like a father would.Â
Tommy had been the one carrying her lifeless frame far from the city until they found a place to hide in hope the tumult of the outbreak would stop.The world was circling around him in a mad carousel of violence but the tumult never stopped and Tommy had to bury her one day after his birthday,during a fresh September night.
He had failed her and she didnât have a proper tomb. A proper funeral.
He had been unable to watch it.
He couldnât move.
He couldnât eat.
He couldnât even shoot himself in the head properly.
The two brothers remained in the same blood soaked clothes for days, unable to talk, faced with the reality of the Cordyceps that chased them further away from home, making their grieving impossible.
 Joel died this day. His joy, his pride, everything taken down with her.Â
It didnât take him long to turn the pain into violence, to become this cruel, ruthless and numb ghost that would inflict the same suffering to everyone who crossed his path. Tommy had watched in silence and followed him everywhere, too young, too kind.Â
When life caught up to them after years of running and surviving in a gruesome way they joined the Boston QZ in hope of stability. It has been a mistake.Â
Wherever he would go, he would see them. The uniforms. The men who were listening to orders. The men who killed his daughter. He had to live every day by doing the thing he hated the most : working for them, obeying them, all of this for food stamps that wouldnât guarantee a decent meal.Â
He learned to live this way : obeying when he had to, smuggling when he could, becoming feared by the âvotersâ, left alone by the FEDRA soldiers. He and Tommy were a good team on the surface, but when he joined the Fireflies, their relationship fractured. He couldnât believe that his little brother wanted to join those fanatics and he never explained his reasons, only accepting to stay in contact with his older brother through radio signals.Â
Until she shattered his existence.Â
Ellie.
Ellie Williams.
That girl gave his life a meaning he had long lost and buried.Â
 She was a burden at first, just an annoying talking package he had to transport across the country in exchange for weapons. Then he and Tess figured the Fireflies needed her because she was immune and needed her blood for a cure.
At last there was hope, a small chance for a bright future, just because of a girl.
She had grown on him, like a tune stuck in his head, until halfway across the country he realized she was more than a burden.
    She was nothing like Sarah. Born in a torn world, carried from places to places, Ellie had been a ticking bomb from the day they met. He thought he had to protect her when she was the one protecting him, bringing him back to life one silly joke at a time.Â
    She had saved him when he was too slow and dead to see a raider attack him. She had saved and stitched him during the cold winter, she had saved him, body and soul, countless times.Â
   After their quick stop in Jackson he had finally accepted her in his heart like his own. He couldnât help it.
 He started loving her in ways she would never understand, imagined a future with her, where he would try to fill her life with happy memories. She had said she wanted to go to space once. He didnât forget it.
 Then they reached Salt Lake City and he failed her the same way he failed Sarah.Â
The surgery would kill her. It probably did.Â
He fought. Too slow, too old.Â
He failed her.
He failed both of them.Â
And yet he lived and when he woke up from his coma in Jackson, Tommy by his side, he knew he was back in hell.
Death would have been sweet for him but his brother had come for him, all the way from Jackson to save him, like the hero he was.
They kept their whole life silent in Jackson, never talking about the murders, Boston, the Fireflies or even Ellie. People barely saw her with Joel those two days and since travelers werenât uncommon, no one has asked questions.
Tommy mentioning Sarah to you was in this sense completely out of character. It wasnât supposed to happen. His brother had no right to take her memory and share it with a stranger. The one person he didnât trust at all. The one refugee whose story wasnât convincing enough.Â
You.Â
   All the memories make his heart stop for a moment. His vision blurs, his head starts turning, and the blood pulsing in his temples echoes Sarahâs cries in his mind. He lets you go and leans his tall frame on a tree to catch his breath, his heartbeat unleashed below his chest, his back turned to you.Â
â Joel?â
â Stop,â he gasps for air, away from you, âdonât say a fuckinâ word,â
  He hides from you for a few minutes and you stand there immobile. You didnât want to comfort him but seeing him struggling pinches your heart in a guilty knot.Â
    In the end, the strong and menacing Joel Miller was just an old broken man, haunted as much as Tommy, hiding it behind a terrible mask of fear.Â
You pity him.Â
No daughter. No brother. No friends. Alone in a town that didnât want him.Â
Maybe he brought it on himself. Maybe he deserved it but you pity him still.
You watch him calm down and head back to the outcrop edge without giving you another look.
He doesnât know what he would do if ever did.
  You wait, impatient, for him to eliminate the infected on the other side. It takes longer today but without your scope you canât really count them all.Â
Joel grunts, âdamn bloater,â
You gasp, gained by an irrational fear, âA bloater?â
Bigger than the clickers, stronger, deadlier, a bloater was a death sentence.Â
You still hated the stalkers more.
   Joel doesnât answer, your voice irritating him like the shrieking of a broken door during the night and it takes him six rounds to finally exhale deeply.
     It takes him overall twenty minutes to clear the other side, loading bullets after bullets, making you understand the anxiety Tommy has been feeling lately. Now wasnât the time for ammunition to run out. It was out of the question. Doing expeditions during this season was too dangerous to go out for several weeks of travel. If bloaters started to appear along the clickers, it would force him to make harsh and dangerous decisions.
When Joel is done, he puts his weapon back into the holster and climbs onto his horse in a low grunt, still not addressing your presence.
  You arrive at the ski lodge after enjoying the peaceful trail under the trees, feeling the sunlights that pierce through the branches where theyâre thinner. Much better with this weather and on a horse than with a bruised ankle, under the snow and covered in blood.
  You both do the same nonchalant routine as if you've been a team for years, moving as one, the silence Joel ordered being a strong motivation to observe all of his moves and do the same like a good soldier.Â
  He avoids looking at you like pestilence, unsure how bad the defiance in your eyes would trigger him again, and keeps watch over the panorama of the window, leaving you waiting on the couch. The same couch Tommy almost kissed you.Â
At least youâve got some memories to keep you company while the sombre figure keeps watch.
âStop seeing my brother,â Joel finally blurts out after an hour.Â
He had kept his mouth shut the whole time but having pictured you and his brother together he couldnât stand it anymore.
âThatâs none of your business,âyour answer is harsh, uncompromising.
Joel inhales and comes to you, carrying himself in the room in a way that makes you uncomfortable, in a controlled pace where heâs probably thinking about all the ways he could hurt you.
   Strangely enough, he just sits down, and rests his elbows on his laps in a calm manner, before giving you a creepy look.Â
A predator.
His prey.Â
You.
He doesnât need to physically be threatening when his narrowed eyes pierce through your skin and bones, like an eagle on the hunt. Thereâs no anger in him anymore, no rage, no pain, just a sinister look you canât escape.
Thrills go through your spine.
âTommy is a romantic you see,â he pouts, â right now heâs probably the happiest man. He'll put you on a pedestal, set his responsibilities aside, one small task after another. Until Jackson pays the price. That day will kill him and it will become my business,â
  Heâs so confident, so quiet, his voice so low and smooth youâre destabilized. Heâs not threatening you. Heâs warning you like a devil who made a bargain with a desperate soul.
âThatâs bold coming from the man who forced his brother to do horrible things, why do you even care?â
âHeâs my brother. Sure heâll hate me if I ever kill you, but I told you, it will pass him,â
    You try to think of a reason. The quiet confidence heâs displaying when it comes to Tommyâs reaction to yourâŚpotential murder. Why would he toy with you this way ? Why was he pretending Tommy wouldnât just get back at him if he everâŚmurdered you too ?Â
He was not pretending. He knew Tommy couldnât hurt his older brother even if he wanted to. Why ?Â
It hits you.Â
Guilt.
Tommy was driven by guilt. Ashamed of the things he did with Joel and with the Fireflies, he was always seeking absolution in every task, to make Jackson a better place.
But why was he seeking forgiveness from Joel ?Â
What could he haveâŚ.
âSarah,â you say out loud for yourself.
â Donâtâ he brutally stands and walks away, but you follow him, forgetting his unpredictable disposition.
â Does Tommy have something to do withââ
   He pivots and pulls you against him, both hands on your pullover and slams you against the window, his nostrils are flared like a bull, his eyes widened enough with rage to reveal white in their corners.
â I wonât repeat it again, you donât get to talk about her, you donât get to say her name,â his hands on you and his mouth quivers with rage, he slams you once more against the glass in a loud thud, â you donât get toâŚ.â His voice dies in his throat, â sheâs dead, theyâre bothâŚâ he lowers his head and loosens his grip, âyou have no right,â
  He lets you go,Tommyâs orders resonating in his head like a spell he wishes he could break. He couldnât kill you without any tangible proof.
âYou let grief and hatred consume you Joel,but I think you like it, you like that people fear you, right ?. You know what we call people like you?â
â Will you ever shutââ
ââ A villain Joel, youâre a fucking villain. Do you think youâre the only one who lost someone ? Who had to mourn in silence as the world slammed you all over ?â
He growls, his face distorted in a grimace you canât grasp,â You have no idea what loss is,âÂ
â Youâre too arrogant Joel,â
He shrugs, too tired of what this patrol has brought back to the surface.
âSure, make me your villain, Iâll make sure to be one at the first slip you make,â
 Your deadly stare seems to amuse him and he smirks before sitting as far as possible from you, back into his thoughts.
    Your curiosity will get you killed one day. But you couldnât resist it. You needed to know everything. Tommyâs past, Joelâs, Elenaâs. The more you knew about people the easier it was for you to understand them and justify their actions.Â
But he was a mystery.Â
  Heâll take his grief to the tomb before sharing anything with you and you know it wasnât fair of you to ask Tommy about his niece. So here you sat, wondering what Tommy did to feel like he owed his brother everything. Was Joel really confident about the blood ties that united them ? Or was he just the villain he thought he was, using his malevolence to destabilize you.
You observe him again, his overall appearance, the way he carries himself like nothing matters, his uncared for curly hair sprinkled with gray strands. The holes in his beard, his rugged skin, the wrinkles on his forehead that were engraved in his face. Life hasnât been easy on him.
And his eyes, so different from his brotherâs despite their resemblanceÂ
   While Tommyâs eyes were like iridescent embers that waited for a single sparkle to burn bright and warm, Joelâs were an abandoned fireplace that burned too bright, too quick, and would not start again. They were just a well of pain you didnât want to look within.
       He notices you peeking at him from time to time. Your eyebrows frowned upon your wide brown eyes looking at him with a fierce intensity, you are like a deer warning a predator with a useless stomp. Menacing, but still fragile and weak.Â
   He didnât like how you ran your big mouth to tear up his scars at every occasion. How you couldnât accept that he was just an asshole. You werenât supposed to know about Sarah and he was afraid that youâd mention her at every opportunity, just to hurt him, because it was now working ; you tore an old wound open in his chest, and there was not enough anger in him to close it again.
People had learned to not mess with him and leave him alone but you hadnât yet and youâve started appearing in his nightmares like a devil in disguise. He couldnât shake the feeling away.Â
Bad news.
You were bad news. Â
  You were too reckless, a moth flying too close to the light, waiting to get burned. A crow picking on a wolfâs tail, asking to be devoured.Â
     And Tommy still fell for you and it hurts him. He had always been the best of them. Brave, loyal, always following his principles.
  Joel forced him to do all of those atrocities because it was the only way he knew to protect him. He broke his brother to make sure he lived long enough, even if it meant facing him with atrocities.
It was too late for him anyway.
And now, his little brother was the one who built a life by coming back to the values and principles that were an inherent part of him.
 He was the one who held this town together with trust, kindness, hardship, and now love.Â
He was the one whose house was filled with laughter that should have filled his own.Â
       Something grew in him that day, on this patrol with you, an eerie feeling he couldnât identify, that had clung to him like a parasite. It followed him all the way back to Jackson, to the stables. To the tipsy bison and up to his bed. He remained sleepless, turning in his bed over and over, their faces flashing in his head as sorrow pulsed in his whole body with every heartbeat until the insomnia got the best of him.
He went on that night, grabbed a bottle of whiskey he traded and walked up to his workshop, his feet heavy, his heart bleeding. He hesitated long enough, sat at his working table, before deciding what he would do next : drink his sanity away or carve a new wooden statue until his fingers bleed.
 A light turned on on the other side of the street and he saw your silhouette entering your bedroom. He knew the house, he built it.Â
Haunting you till the very end of the day, twisting the knife in his wound up into his home, you closed the curtains without seeing him and were soon joined by Tommy who kissed you passionately before the lights turned off.
Drinking it will be then.Â
To forget his brother got everything he wanted.
To forget the sorrow that filled his lungs every time he thought of his daughters.Â
To forget you were the one who disturbed his peaceful agony.Â
TLOU works
Abby:
HCs:
Stoner!Abby
Jock!Abby
One shots:
Pretty when you cry
Donât make me do it
Sleeping bliss
Not on my watch!
Drunken love
Big bully
Ellie:
Blurbs:
Fluffy bunny
THE LAST OF US
â° ABBY
take it like a taker (nsfw)
insatiable (nsfw)
â Ë・â๨ŕ§Ë the last of us masterlist
jesse
⤿ just the two of us : a late-night with jesse turns into a life-changing moment
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
joel miller
⤿ none yet.





