#tlou part II remastered

[day0fnight]

the last of us part II remastered

- desolation

[thelastoneleft]

Innocence // Trauma

[chrisfroot]

I’m out.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Can we please stop comparing Abby's body to male bodies? It's kinda fucking gross. Thanks.

I hate this for her. I hate this for all my friends in the gym who face this daily.

Abby is a woman. Yes, a very muscular woman. But she has a vagina. She has feminine traits, too. She doesn't talk like a man. She doesn't act like a man. She does not, I repeat, does not look like a man.

The fact that this keeps happening is exactly why we need more muscular women in media.

Album dropping in 2025. 🤣

[tiredlakes]

it’s me i’m bitches

[dafna-winchester]

“You can’t stop this.”

[multiverseofseries]

New characters poster for ‘THE LAST OF US’ Season 2. Premiering April 13 on Max.

[zestycowboah]

The Last of Us Part II

[haikyooh]

Ellie's birthday on film. (x)

[dvinaamesca]

[pheracy]

CHARACTER Ellie Williams FANDOM The Last of Us Part 2 SYNOPSIS A poem of Ellie writing in her diary about Joel TAGS & TW major character death, grief, mourning, trauma, blood, body horror, graphic depictions of violence, ptsd, emotional hurt, no comfort, survivor's guilt SONG The choice 🦉 Gustavo Santaolalla, Alan Umstead NOTE Do not ask me how many hours I've cried while writing this. First you'll see the translation of the poem to English since I wrote it in Spanish. Below, you have the original and much better version in Spanish. The picture in the banner is taken and edited by me, please do not repost or claim as your own.

Autumn, brown, leaves on the ground. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I don’t move past the grief.

An owl visits my window, nests your bones, lays your entrails in my bed.

It decorates them with flowers picked from your door, bouquets now covering your house, cold and deserted.

Blood drips down the walls, it's a dream, wake up! A moth rests on your guitar, withered and dead.

On your porch, with it beneath the strings, that night I lost you, I wonder if you remember.

I still don’t understand why you get me out alive. You’d do it again, even knowing the outcome.

The scent of your jacket soaked in one last coffee, our last conversation, I will never speak of it.

My heart hasn’t beaten since that scene. After that, we never had our last supper.

Forgiveness and forgetting, debts left unsettled, I’d give anything to have you back.

I write in my notebook, it burns and enrages me. I draw you in its yellowed pages.

You looked at me with eyes that still haunt me, as your brains flew in slow motion.

I don’t want to grow old without seeing you walk through that door. Your corpse buried underground, yet I still leave it open.

In the spaceship that will never land, the one where I once glimpsed the Moon.

You gave your life for mine too many times to count. I still don’t know how to honor you the way you deserve.

I won’t speak of you in the past tense, for you’re still by my side. I wish I could mourn you in silence, but you hurt too much.

I wish you had let me die on that table. We wouldn’t have lived through this unreal nightmare.

Brain ripped out, heart left unscathed, had you left me in that hospital, maybe we’d still be together.

I don’t know if a life without you will be worth it. Knowing my father is gone feels like a sentence.

Years of enduring all your lies, your conscience screams every time you breathe.

A burn on my arm, a hydrocarbon scar, my tattoo of you, growing darker with time.

Two fingers missing, no days left ahead, I step outside, daring death to take me.

You are the person I’ve learned the most from. I hope you didn’t leave this world filled with regret.

What’s left of you will never be forgotten, your gun and a broken watch with time reversed.

I’m glad you can’t see what I’ve become.

El otoño, el marrón, las hojas en el suelo. No como, no duermo, no supero el duelo.

Hay un búho que visita mi ventana, en su nido pone tus huesos y en mi cama tus entrañas.

Lo adorna con flores que cogió de tu puerta, ramos que cubren tu casa, ahora fría y desierta.

La sangre cae por las paredes, es un sueño, ¡despierta! Sobre tu guitarra una polilla, marchita y muerta.

En tu porche con ella bajo las cuerdas, esa noche te perdí, no sé si recuerdas.

El olor de tu chaqueta bañada en un último café, nuestra última conversación de la nunca hablaré.

Mi corazón no ha vuelto a latir desde aquella escena, tras eso nunca tuvimos nuestra última cena.

El perdón y el olvido, no querer cuentas, daría lo que fuera por tenerte de vuelta.

Escribo en mi cuaderno, me quema y violenta, te dibujo en sus páginas amarillentas.

Me miraste con ojos que aún me atormentan mientras tus sesos volaban a cámara lenta.

No quiero cumplir años sin verte entrar por la puerta, tu cadáver bajo tierra y aún así la dejo abierta.

En la nave espacial que nunca va a aterrizar, aquella en la que conseguí la Luna visualizar.

Diste tu vida por la mía incontables veces, sigo sin saber honrarte de la manera en que mereces.

No hablaré de ti en pasado ya que sigues a mi lado, quiero llorarte en silencio pero dueles demasiado.

De que me sacaras viva aún no entiendo el significado, lo volverías a hacer, aún sabiendo el resultado.

Ojalá me hubieras dejado morir en la camilla, no hubiéramos vivido esta irreal pesadilla.

Con el cerebro arrancado y el corazón sin rasguños, de haberme dejado en el hospital, quizá seguiríamos juntos.

No sé si una vida sin ti merecerá la pena, saber que mi padre no está es una condena.

Durante años aguantando todas tus mentiras, te grita la conciencia cada vez que respiras.

En mi brazo quemadura de hidrocarburo, mi tatuaje sobre ti cada vez más oscuro.

Con dos dedos de menos, sin días ni futuro, he salido de casa, a morir me aventuro.

Eres la persona de la que más he aprendido, espero que no dejaras este mundo estando arrepentido.

Lo que queda de ti nunca quedará en el olvido, tu pistola y un reloj roto con el tiempo invertido.

Me alegra que no puedas ver en quién me he convertido.

Credits: dividers by @anitalenia 📬∿ Requests are open and much appreciated! You can read the fandoms I'm in to ask for a poem, headcanons, a lil fic in English or Spanish. 🧭▬▬ poems masterlist | navigation Please do not copy, alter, or repost my work ©pheracy 2025.

[day0fnight]

the last of us part II remastered

- ellie williams and dina

[thelastoneleft]

I see Armageddon…

Everywhere that I go

[chrisfroot]

“try to follow your light, but it's nighttime please don't leave me in the end”

[electricneonvalkyrie]

"You killed my friends... We let you both live, and you wasted it!"

Gives me chills every single time.

The hurt in her eyes right before she says it.

Lev is the only person she's got in this world.

I know what comes next in this scene is jarring and reactionary. But sometimes people forget...

She was protecting Lev here, too.

When instinct and trauma kick in, Abby is tense and focused, even when she's shaking with rage.

While she's not the same woman who turned up in Jackson seeking justice, it's no surprise she needed a quiet reminder of that.

[tiredlakes]

my most recent the last of us fanart 💖 please don’t steal !

@ tiredlakes on ig

artwork by: tiredlakes (me!) @ instagram