Tlou Fandom - Blog Posts

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get excited!!

how i imagine ellie in season 2

all i ever wanted, all i ever needed is here, in my arms

full throttle.

summary. the poor reader is the only one left remaining in her pathetic, ragtag group. cw. solotraveler, tad bit bloodthirsty!ellie x fem!reader, wlw, not really story canon, death, detailed murder/murder spree, blood, wounds, organs, and reunion. wc. 2,020 cr. images from pinterest. notes. sorry for the like… two month's absence lmao. tlou gameplay is rather cool so I wanted to write something about it. The apartments are different. ruhroh. anyway, i had fun writing this. her dead eyes look has me in a lil chokehold. disc. hey now instrumental earbuds recommended 01 / 02 / AO3

She killed them all, one by one.

People that you were associated with, even if you weren't as torn from their eventual demise, it was how quickly it all went to shit, that startled you. This one specific person of thin stature capable of brutally ending the lives of others in such a short amount of time left you baffled and it undeniably gripped your heart with fear of being her next victim. Her approach was aggressive and oppressive, it was as if you were on her playground, one of many to be unfortunate enough to be the next group to step their toes into her territory.

Each breath you withdrew wavered, and your thoughts were nerve-wracking, it spun at a fast pace equivalent to a revolver's cylinder rotating with no signs of stopping. Dread was a sentiment that has long ago been somewhat dulled through years of experience against the infected, adrenaline and stress were the most prevalent variables.

But this woman– this woman forcibly tugged it back to the surface without even being aware of your existence. 

The small group you were in was struggling to come together, the man who took the reins, even though it was unspoken, did it out of necessity, he did his best to keep the group positive rather than at odds with each other. But considering the eight people in your group and how they are, that man was surely left to rot in the slightest inconvenience when he went out to search for supplies with four other people. No matter how much you asked about what happened, their vague explanation departed an unsettling weight on your chest. 

Internally, you knew that something ill-fated happened that wasn't by the wretched, blood-drenched mouths of the infected– or maybe it was, just that they put him in a horrible position for it to happen. But you'll never know the exact details now, because they're all dead. 

They intended to move where the group lives today, and along the way, in Downtown Seattle, a small coin on the road dimly shined like any other, an opportunity to coerce this young woman to surrender her weapons and backpack to us.

And with nature inherently flourishing across Downtown Seattle over time, this Capitol Hill gas station in particular was no exception to it either. The inside of the gas station had bloodstained, dirty, shattered tiles with the owners of said blood missing their lower half, their organs splayed out onto the flooring, and one other unfortunate soul had their throat brutally slit and chest shanked. 

Some died the regular way, a bullet through their head or throat when they least anticipated it. She hastily retreats to cover every time she'd successfully end someone, it only took a few seconds again for someone to run into her trap once more, that or they were foolishly out in the open, gunned down by her Bolt-Action Rifle or her silencer.

You felt an overwhelming sense of cowardice and uselessness when you hid away after witnessing six out of the eight other people present get slaughtered, exploded, and stabbed with no remorse. You regret deciding to stay with this group, you should have taken off after the leader died weeks ago.

You dreaded to see even an inch of that auburn hair or any sighting of the hand-crafted trap mine premeditatedly planted on the ground. 

You stayed low to the ground, your sweaty palms grasped the grip of the pistol intensely, your shoulders ached, and the two other people remaining in your group were communicating with one another, in search of that one person. You were hidden behind a car on the other side of the street in front of the gas station, peeking your head up to watch the others try and kill her. You felt pity for her when it seemed like it was in your group's favor at the beginning, deciding not to look at the woman to instead look into the cars for anything to pass the time,  you didn't want to do that to her but.. It's never quite fair in the apocalypse.

In your peripheral vision, you see a figure rise from the roof of the building, throwing something down at the last remaining people's feet, detonating immediately on impact. A blinding flash and a loud bang rang through your ears despite not being too close to it. Gargled screams stole your attention, during the few seconds of smoke in the air, you can see that same figure riding the man’s back, impaling their chest and then into the side of their neck, the body falls to the ground with a harsh thud.

The last man standing eventually gained his senses after being disoriented for a brief moment, with no hesitation he turned around and tackled her from behind, the switchblade she had in her left hand rammed into his thigh, the scene was harrowing to watch, his cries of anguish and guttural groans rose in volume when she twisted it before pulling it back out only to repeat the actions. He released her after she jabbed him a third time, before he could move his foot towards her again, she shot him in the forehead, the bullet silenced by the empty plastic water bottle on the muzzle of the pistol.

That brought you out of your blanked-out mind, why were you just watching, frozen in your place? 

Grass lightly crunched beneath your feet as you measured every step you made, silently attempting to retreat from your hiding spot as soon as possible while she was preoccupied looting their corpses. 

Your head was on a swivel, consistently turning to the left to see if she was still searching the bodies up until you made a right turn, going from crouching to standing,  making every reluctant step you make forward have you sweating, the soles of the weight of your shoes on the green grass felt like that was enough to give away your position. You stuck close to the walls of the building. After a small, handful of minutes passed, vacant apartments were what your eyes landed on, your steps grew rushed as the desire to just disappear far away from that woman increased. The pressure you felt started to wane, silence engulfing the atmosphere. Your speed-walking pace went to a jog, heading towards the entrance of the building. 

The edges of your lips twitched as you reached the doors, twisting and pushing the door knobs, opening them up until it was ajar was when the loud pop of a bullet penetrating the wood above you, leaving it splintered and small pieces of it dropped onto your head, your nervous system was shook, fright rushed through your bloodstream, your body moving faster than your thoughts, another shot rang through the area, right where your head was if your movements were delayed by a thread. You slammed the doors shut, shoving your pistol into its holster, your feet shuffled hurriedly to push whatever was nearby onto the entrance. The door knobs jiggled and the doors thudded with what you assumed was the woman striving to barge in.

“I Know you’re in there!” Even through the wood, her winded words were wrapped in a belligerent tone of voice. 

Booking it, you run past the front desk, the walls are caked in dust, and the air smells stale. The sound of hard thuds was washed out by your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, and when you opened the break room, shutting the door behind you, looking for anything that could help you get away. But time was of the essence because footsteps that moved at a slow stride reached your ears through the wooden door.

How the hell did she get in already?

There was nothing of utmost relevance that would aid you in your predicament, and the clock ticked at an unnecessary rate. 

The footsteps outside the break room stopped, your head snapping to glance at the knob that was silently turning, the click of the door unlocking was quiet– that was when you acted without thinking, survival instincts gripped your body, and you swallowed your fear.

As the door was pulled back enough to be ajar, you sprinted and slammed yourself onto the door, knocking the woman on the other side back, her back hitting the wall‐ but you were onto her, trying not to give her a second to regain her composure considering how fast she is in doing so.

Her switchblade was the first thing that met you when you attacked her, her swing was fast enough to slice your cheek. 

“Ugh!” Your head flinched, and the moment of weakness let her fist collide with your stomach, resulting in you being stunned enough to drop to your knees, when you saw the tip of the switchblade shine in your peripheral, aiming for your jugular, the hairs on your neck stood, your hands jutting out to grab her arm, trying to dislodge the switchblade from her crimson-soaked hands, the same hand that punched your stomach grabbed the back of your head by your hair, pulling your head back.

“Stop!” You plead, eyes wide. “You made me–” The only thing you heard from the other young woman was heavy breathing that bordered on growls with how hard she was inhaling and exhaling. And in the midst of your scuffle, pale green eyes met your own.

Her pupils dilate when they find your eyes, they flicker up and down your face, intaking every detail, the constraint she enforced upon you, although indistinctly, was eased. You can tell by her demeanor that if you try doing anything, the perplexity between you will dissipate, and her pitiless efforts of killing you will continue until you are deceased.

Harsh breathing was the only sound that played like a broken record.

Scarlet fluid in a splattered manner appeared to be across the entirety of her face and upper half, built-up dirt underneath her short nails and a pitch black shirt with white text partially veiled by grime and blood, a testament to the carnage she was capable and fully willing to participate in furthermore.

She muttered something incomprehensible under her breath, the agitation in her face faltered as the period of time-stretched. For you, your eyes remained wide, a tiny spark of possibilities imbued you. At first, her words were a tentative whisper, unsure if her thoughts were in fact correct.

“Y/N..?” 

“Yes, yes, Ellie..” You swallow, your throat gently bobbing, the stinging pain on your cheek making the situation feel more substantial. Your answer was what made her hold on to your hair to finally be freed, her hands falling to her sides. Her hunched posture over you slowly withdrew to her fully standing. The atmosphere between you two shifted as relief washed the both of you down akin to a tidal wave whilst you moved to stand up, her green eyes watching over the twitch and pinch of your facial expressions. 

“How… I.. I didn't know that it was you.” She shook her head vaguely, regret overtaking her as she stared at the blood trickling down your cheek, down to the smooth line of your jawline.

Your back met the wall, and your stomach and cheek ached, but your focus was directed to Ellie. Your feelings about seeing her again after so long were a tad bit muddled. She changed, of course—who wouldn't in the apocalypse? But the massacre you witnessed and now realizing that the person behind it was someone you knew left you astonished. Your curiosity about what happened while the two of you were separated certainly picked at you.

Shaking your head, “It's fine, Ellie.” You said, your chest rising and falling in harmony with hers, the corners of your lips jerked upwards a little out of relief that you seemingly get to live to see another day, that and reuniting with someone you loved.

“You did what you had to do.” 

Ellie licked her lips before she tried to act out her thoughts, but when her hand reached out to touch yours she stopped herself.

this ending was bleh, sorry my ladies.. i got bored near the end D:

Spoilers for S2 E2 of The Last of Us

(And, y'know, the second game obviously)

Do you guys think that Joel's watch stopped at his time of death? That Ellie has it only to be reminded of that day, that time, and how it stopped ticking when his heart stopped beating?