#tlou2 joel's song

[abbysthighs]

"Promise me that you won't laugh?"

[adhdprincess]

AU where Ellie and Tommy don't go after Abby

**TLOU2 SPOLIERS**

Ellie takes it the hardest. On good days, she says a few sentences and eats a half a plate of food. On bad days, you're lucky if she comes from under her covers.

Tommy overworks himself to avoid his grief, but it finds him whenever he takes a second to breathe.

Dina moves into the shed with Ellie, taking care of her every need, but exhaustion and morning sickness are taking a toll. With growing dread, Dina suspects she might be pregnant.

Every day after patrols, Tommy sits at Ellie's bedside to give Dina a break. No one says it out loud, but they're all worried about what Ellie would do if left alone for too long.

A blizzard comes one week. Ellie stops speaking and won't eat more than a forkful at a time. Dina's at a loss, fearing that Ellie's wasting away. Tommy tries to get her to come back, but his efforts do little more than Dina's.

One day, after an hour at Ellie's bedside, he picks up her guitar. He's out of practice, but he falls into old strumming patterns soon enough.

Ellie doesn't stir and Tommy remembers the times he and Joel would play guitar as kids. The grief overwhelms him and he stops playing, giving into the sobs.

Most days, Tommy plays guitar and sings quietly. When he plays, it's like he's bringing Joel back to life.

Ellie rolls over, facing him, the most movement she's made in hours. Blinking, she extends a hand and they sit there crying. The pain is heavy, but carrying it together helps the both of them.

One day, when the grief lets up just a bit, Ellie sits up and sings with him:

Skip to middle- the singer sounds like game Ellie/Ashley Johnson 🥹

You go on, on, on...

Just like a river, you'll go on...

[6sara6mcr6]

cause of death:

[redahlia-writes]

work song. | joel miller

Abstract: He wishes he could reach over as he does in darkness, wrap his arms around her and pull her to him, making her gasp and giggle and fall into him, finding her place in the bent of his arms, head tucked under his chin so that they’re locked together like puzzle pieces.

But he can’t move, and the gasp that falls from her lips is not the one he wants to hear.

Words: 1.8k

Content: f!reader; MAJOR tlou2 spoilers, character’s death, mentions of child’s death, blood and wounds, angst, mentions of explicit scenes but nothing graphic, mentions of alcohol

A/N: heavily inspired by hozier’s work song. i don’t know where this came from and i’m sorry. writing is a little experimental

also on AO3 - masterlist

reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated. you can send it here, too

Joel, get up.

It echoes distantly, the words in a voice so familiar it almost pulls him back from the dull pain all across his body - Ellie, his Ellie.

Joel, fucking get up.

One breath, two. There’s a coppery taste in his mouth, and he can’t see her, but she’s there, his Ellie. Angry and pleading, she sounds like she’s just out of reach, and his hand twitches. Maybe he can get to her, crawl across the floor to where she’s breathing hard and please stop! Please don’t do this… Joel, please get up!

It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s oddly quiet, and then the ringing starts - there’s no more blood coating his tongue, or his teeth, but it’s still awfully dark, and where’s Ellie?

A scream, a sob, the low-lit room spins around him and there she is, pinned to the ground as her shoulders shake with her sobs as the ringing goes on and on and on and -

I’ll fucking kill you…

No, he wants to say, don’t do that, don’t go down that road, sweet girl, it’s alright, it was going to be this way sooner or later. There’s no point in being angry, it was bound to happen - he knew that, he still does, it’s alright. Besides, he should add, you know she doesn’t like to see you angry. Either of us, really.

He wonders where she is. When the room is empty but for him and Ellie, he wonders where she is - she’s never too far from either of them, she’s always looking out for them, looking after them, caring for them, even when they drift apart. Sweet as the cherries that grow as a miracle in their backyard.

He wonders where she is.

When she first found him, Jackson still felt like a fever dream, too good to be true.

The alcohol didn’t taste as cheap as the one from the QZ, and he drank and drank and drank and yet it was her he got drunk on - her laughter (how could someone laugh so brightly after all that happened?) and her smile (how long had those lines etched themselves into her skin?) and her jokes (how drunk are you, really, to find this funny? whispered with her shoulder pressed to his).

He knew Tommy and Maria had set them up, his brother had said it loud and clear - and so did she, Maria fixing her hair at the door when she first got there making her laugh.

“I don’t mind,” they were alone when she said it, the glass in her hand almost empty as she leaned into him. “It’s a bit like old times, is it not? Meddling younger brothers and friends.”

Christ, he could lose himself in her smile.

He went home with her that night, his jacket resting over her shoulders and a kiss at the front door - like old times. He would’ve lingered there, before. He would’ve whispered goodnight in the doorway, letting the word echo in the house before walking away. He would’ve looked over his shoulder, would’ve seen his jacket still on her and grinned - a promise of returning, a thread keeping them together.

But it was not just like old times, because time was not something he thought he had just yet. Every day could be the last, could it not? That’s what he had gotten used to outside.

And so the kiss turned into two and three and more and the door closed behind them both, with his jacket falling to the floor where it’d stay the night, while he’d spend it trapped in the space between her thighs, a warm embrace more dizzying than any alcohol had ever been - before, in the QZ, in Jackson.

In the morning he’d notice an empty room across the corridor from hers, the door open to show a single bed and some old toys - that thread he thought could belong only to the past wrapped itself around him. It kept them together, day after night after day, with whispers in the crook of his neck of what once was, what would never be again.

But they had one another.

“Don’t you ever worry I might’ve done something awful to get here?”

“To get to me?” sometimes she touched his face as if to make sure he was real. He’d kiss her hands then, hardened by time, by the fight. “We’ve all done awful things. You can’t survive out there if you’re a nice person.”

“You’re a good person.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t nice,” he had forgotten what cherries tasted like - he remembered each time she kissed him that summer. “You did what you had to to survive. To help Ellie survive. You’re a good person, too.”

He could die knowing she believed him good, but he did not want to anymore.

She still believed him good, even after Ellie told her what he’d done.

He should’ve known Ellie was going to - the kid loved her as much as he did. Why would she want her to be with a selfish liar? With someone who’d taken away the possibility of salvation? With the man who was the reason her kid had turned?

“Nothing could’ve saved my son, Joel,” a bitter whisper, a knowledge she lived with daily and still hurt in the middle of the night. “But you saved Ellie. That girl is alive because of you.”

“At what cost?”

“Her life - she was just a kid. She still is. The weight of the world should’ve never rested on her shoulders,” it was such a drastic difference, her soft voice in the lowlights of their porch (he had not dared getting inside the house to confess, because he feared having to walk out) compared to Ellie’s anger thrown in screams at his face. “You’re not a bad person for caring about her - you’re just still human. She’ll come around.”

“She won’t. She’s right. And she’s stubborn.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” soft and sweet she took his hand and led him towards the door, a home he did not expect to have ever again and that she still offered to him, in spite of everything. “Anger doesn’t suit either of you.”

Was that the forgiveness he deserved? Still having a house, a bed, still having her?

Her steps echo around him like they do at night when she gets up to go drink, because she always forgets to bring a glass to her nightstand.

He wishes he could reach over as he does in darkness, wrap his arms around her and pull her to him, making her gasp and giggle and fall into him, finding her place in the bent of his arms, head tucked under his chin so that they’re locked together like puzzle pieces.

But he can’t move, and the gasp that falls from her lips is not the one he wants to hear.

It gets stuck in the back of her throat and he feels her gaze on him with Ellie’s, and the tears in their eyes make his still heart ache.

“Shit,” it’s Dina holding her up for a moment - he likes Dina. They both do. She’s good, a good person, good for Ellie.

“Go to Ellie,” her voice sounds so different. Leveled and cold and foreign - it lacks her joy. It almost isn’t her voice at all. “That’s alright - go to Ellie. I’m alright.”

Her lips twitch when she lies - it’s an almost imperceptible movement, the corner of her mouth going up and down once the lie gets past her lips. It’s funny, he thinks, how he got to know her so deeply - he spent over 20 years believing he would never get close enough to anybody else to do that, but now he can tell by the quirk of her lips that she’s lying.

That she’s not alright.

That when she kneels by Ellie and brushes her tears away, her hair back, the thread is about to snap. That when she rests her forehead to Ellie’s and calls her baby girl, the crack in her voice is the reason she says nothing else - she can’t, not without falling apart.

He hates it. He hates to see Ellie cry, he hates to see her hands tremble as she and Dina help her up. He hates that she has to be strong, put on a brave face. He’s the one who’s supposed to do that.

Perhaps he can still crawl to them. Hold them both. Carry them home.

“You got her?” Dina nods to her, her arms holding Ellie’s almost limp body. “I’m staying with him, I - just leave me a moment.”

She makes her way across the floor slowly, without even getting up, and her shoulders are shaking as she reaches his side. The door closes behind Dina and Ellie, and she lets out a broken sob as their steps get more distant.

He wants to tell her to not get any closer, that she’ll get blood on her clothes and that’s impossible to take out nowadays, but she’s lowering her head to his and now tears are dwelling in her eyes and her jeans are getting soaked at the knees as she brushes her lips to his forehead. He can almost feel it.

She should say something, she thinks, but words tangle and twist in her chest, making it ache as she cradles his broken face, trying and trying and trying to get the blood off but the wounds are still open, still bleeding, and he’s still warm, and her sleeves can only get so much away.

She keeps trying, even when tears blur her vision and she almost can’t recognise him anymore, her touch so soft and gentle as if she’s afraid of hurting him, her Joel, her love.

She’ll stay there until the others will find Tommy, and then, even if he’s as broken as she is, he’ll pull her away from his brother’s body - it becomes a chain, one trying to be strong for the other.

Eventually, all will fail.

It’ll be Tommy finding her again, days later, kneeling on the cold dark earth by Joel’s headstone - the tears will have long dried, but her hands will still tremble.

For a while, Joel is grateful for his brother, same way as he’s grateful for Dina - they care for his girls the way he was supposed to, and they try and take care of each other, because it’s each other they need the most in his absence.

Eventually, that’ll fail too - for a while.

“Revenge will not bring him back, Ellie,” she’s still gentle in the face of Ellie’s fury - yet it’s all for nothing. For a while.

Months later, she’ll still be there to wait for her and pick up Joel’s guitar. She’ll still be there to welcome her home and hold her through the night on a single bed, surrounded by old toys, and a broken watch on her wrist.

[skoulsons]

Tlou2 spoilers

It’s a bit upsetting they’ll be taking future days out of s2

I believe it’s confirmed. For those who don’t know, the song came out in 2013, so it wouldn’t fit the new timeline of the show where the virus starts in 2003 instead. Pearl Jam would be dead by 2013, and even if not dead, surely not making any music to release AND for Joel to learn it on guitar

But…that scene, that song is such a welding point for them. He promises he’ll teach her how to play guitar AND she’ll get to hear him sing. So, he plays this song AND sings some of it for her. It’s to say “I love you”. It’s to show how she saved him. The lyrics that he sings (and the song in general let’s be honest here) are so incredibly fitting to their relationship.

And, every time you come across a guitar in tlou2 (with the exception of the dance flashback? I think?) Ellie tries to play future days. Because it’s their song and because she’s remembering him through it. But it’s just so difficult to do because he’s dead, but that song means so much to her and she’s practiced it day in and day out, with and without him.

If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. They’ve probably sung it together more times than not. And every time she plays, she gets out only that ^ much, I think even less at one point

The song is so vital to them, so for Craig and Neil to find just as impactful and important of a song to use for Joel and Ellie will be difficult, and I really hope they find a good one

[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

What's currently fucking me up (it's always TLOU):

At the end of ep3, Joel and Ellie drive away listening to Linda Ronstadt. But the PART of this SONG: an analysis

We start with: "And I think it's gonna hurt me for a long, long time" - a pretty clear reference to Sarah's death for Joel "Wait for the day/you'll go away" -playing while they have their sweet moment bonding over Linda; obviously a reference to Joel's greatest fear, but also probably foreshadowing TLOU2 (KILL ME) "Knowing that you warned me" (Joel looks at Ellie) "of the price I'd have to pay" -we all know Joel is terrified of losing Ellie like he lost Sarah. I think this line alone informs how much he fights his love for Ellie for the next few episodes "And life's full of flaws/ who knows the cause" - fucked up world, all the stuff they have to do to survive, I feel like this line works as a really gracious acceptance of what Joel's done and does and where we end up at the end of the season (Joel Miller did nothing wrong) "Living in the memory of a love that never was" - this always confused me because this is where we cut back to Bill and Frank's window. It COULD be a reference to their lost years, but I don't think that's it, because they had a good long time together and their love definitely WAS. I think it's more likely meant to refer to Joel and Sarah's lost years (and again, maybe a VICIOUS foreshadowing of Joel and Ellie's lost future days) (FUCK everything) "Cause I've done everything I know/ to try and change your mind/ and I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time" - I think this one is Ellie. She has been and continues to spend the next couple episodes trying to bond with Joel. She does change his mind (it never actually needed changing) And they love each other for a long, long time.

[actual-changeling]

there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

[saintgoths]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - ME AND MY HUSBAND.

WORDS - 3,998.

RATING - 18+. [insecure & possessive Joel, Ellie and ivy fluff]

SUMMARY - joel learns about what isabella has done and re-thinks about their relationship and ellie and ivy had a deep talk about what had happened to her.

As the church doors were loudly closed behind the two couples, Maria and Tommy had carefully dragged the older Miller away from the location, Isabella had scurried behind the three of them, embarrassed and guilt-ridden by the circumstance. When Maria had finally let go of Joel, Tommy had followed through, her expression confused and sensibly annoyed at the commotion.

“What is wrong with you?” Maria directly seethed, she had briskly pointed an accusatory finger at the bearded man who had glared down at his shoes, Isabella had hugged herself whilst she had nibbled her bottom lips as she had silently wished that Joel would not inform Tommy and Maria what Adam had implied to him.

“He had no right speaking to Isabella like that,” Joel argued, he had lifted his face to look at the short-haired blond woman, his foamed eyes had hastily scanned over Isabella before they had returned to the leader of the town.

“So, the best solution was to beat him up?” Maria questioned, her tone smouldered and irritated, and as much as Joel had thought Maria to be a scary person, in his mind, the older Miller man had his duty to protect his lover and he couldn’t do that with alarm and fright.

Adamant, Joel had pressed his lips together, with the look in his eyes, his younger brother, Tommy, understood that Joel was going to be stubborn about the situation. “If it gets him to shut up, then yes.”

Tensely, Maria released a struggled sigh. “Right,” she dryly muttered, softly, she had backed away from the trio. “I’ll be with the Lorde family,” she informed them. “Tommy,” Maria called her tone forwardly implied that her husband should take lead with the situation.

Aware the scenario was in his hands now, Tommy softly grunted while he had pulled his hands against his hips. “You were usually the one who spoke about being calm and not allowing people to rile you up,” the blonde brother lightly joked and barely humoured, Joel mildly smirked at his younger brother.

“Everyone has their breaking points,” Joel responded and aware of his point, Tommy raised the both of his eyebrows, his hands dropped at his sides and he neared himself in direction of Joel.

“This is going to be the town’s gossip for a long time,” Tommy clarified and apprised, Joel dropped his shoulders in response, he had sat himself against the cold ground, knowledgeable of the iciness but the adrenaline had him care less of the temperature.

Silently, Isabella had pushed her bottom lip behind her teeth, she had wished to have a private conversation with her partner but she’d rather speak to the Miller man when his heated feelings had cooled down, the woman was aware that Joel would do nothing to hurt her physically or emotionally, but the Rosalind woman had comprehended that there was a certain conversation that had to be discussed.

“I know,” Joel muttered and with the look on his face, Tommy understood that Joel had no regrets for what he had done, or hadn’t cared of what people would say or think.

“You might have to apologise to the Lourde family,” Tommy trailed on and automatically, Joel had rolled his eyes in disagreement; knowing that forcing his brother to apologise to the Lourde family would be difficult, Tommy had pressed his lips into a thin line.

As Joel was too stubborn, the man was also too prideful. “I’ll leave the two of you to talk it out,” Tommy mentioned and thankful, Isabella had quietly thanked Tommy before she had watched him walk away from them. Isabella had eventually pulled her arms away from the tight lock around her figure, and twisted her gaze to her lover, she had peeled her mouth open to speak but the man had cut her off with just the raise of his hand.

“What did Adam mean by that?” Joel thoroughly questioned, his voice low and accusatory enough for Isabella to pull her hands behind her back, slowly, Joel had raised himself to stand to his feet, his eyes dark and accusive, he himself, had understood what Adam had implied in the church, yet, the man had just wanted to hear it from her.

Isabella gently shuddered, she had finally felt the cold whispering wind touch her skin and once more, the woman had hugged herself, eyes wide in curiosity but shock that commodities had to be revealed this way. “What do you mean?”

Sarcastically entertained, Joel pushed himself to scoff at her. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“My past sexual life has nothing to do with you,” Isabella quickly worded out and unmoved, Joel’s orbs remained on her. Strained, Isabella had taken a step closer towards the Miller man who stood straight against the wall behind him, he had much words working his mind, much outcomes and many conclusions and he liked neither of them.

“Did you fuck Adam?” Joel whispered and reticent, Isabella had gawked at the taller being, flustered that Joel had to find out she had been with Adam Lourde out of all men, disconcerted, Joel had held in his breath, her silence being enough of an answer. While struggling, Joel had laughed not at her but at the circumstance. “Did you fuck Tora too?”

“During the time I left Jackson,” Isabella truthfully replied and unaware on how to feel, Joel briskly raked his fingers through his full beard. “It was during a time we weren’t together,” she candidly argued and firm, Joel pressed his hands against the top of his hips, his eyes rooted and stable as staunch and ghastly thoughts roamed his mind.

“We weren’t together but I’m sure we had feelings for each other---you knew I had feelings for you,” Joel quickly countered and miffed, Isabella’s face twisted in soreness.

“So that means I owed you loyalty?” Isabella forwardly questioned, bothered by his self-righteousness; and aware of his greed and self-indulgence, Joel rubbed the back of his neck, taciturn and aware that Isabella’s argument was valid. “Especially when you were avoiding me majority of the time in the beginning.”

“Right, I’m sorry,” Joel genuinely apologised and forgiving, Isabella reached for his hand that he had opened.

Her face less agitated, a smile appeared on her mask on autopilot. “It’s okay,” the woman whispered and thankful, Joel had gently pulled the stunning being into a soft embrace, glad that in the end Isabella would be someone he’d have in his arms whenever he had wanted, but moreover, Isabella had liked the fact that Joel was a man who was willing to put a man’s life on the line just for the sake of her integrity. It made her feel safe, and aware that she could count on someone domestically once more.

“Was Adam before or after Tora?”

In disbelief, Isabella had briskly pulled away from his grasp and mildly slapped his chest. She had forced an embarrassed laugh in response to his possessive attitude, yet, with the serious look he had on his face as he had waited for her answer, Isabella pressed her lips into a thin line, her brown eyes shaking with discomfort. “Joel,” she warned, “I don’t like this insecure attitude you’re having right now.”

“Have you looked in the mirror?” Joel peered, as much as he had liked the fact that he had the most beautiful woman in love with him, there were moments the Miller man had fell into a pit of anxiety and self-doubt. “Any man would feel uncertain when they’re with a woman like you.”

“I wouldn’t cheat on you---”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Joel called out and immediately his eyes dropped the stiff and adamant expression which had then been quickly laced and dressed with his true emotions, fear. Mayhap Joel had been projecting on her, mayhap all these feelings were due to the previous events with his ex-wife.

Aware that Joel’s feeling had stemmed from a copious deeper place than she had known, the woman had dropped her arms to her sides before she had released an exhausted sigh. “Adam was after Tora.”

Confused, Joel had pulled back his face as he hastily calculated the dates in his mind and tired, Isabella had quickly swiped the tip of her tongue against the dry cracks of her lower lips, the snow and coldness had gotten to her harder than before, the woman was sure that her nose and cheeks must’ve been the colour of red apples by now. Thus, she had wished that the conversation the two of them had currently shared would be over by the minute.

“Then that wouldn’t make any sense,” Joel stiffly replied, “because we went on a date the moment you came back to Jackson.”

Culpable, Isabella had sucked in the air through the tight gaps of her teeth, averse to respond to Joel’s final idea. Now struck with a new wave of curiosity, Joel had pushed himself towards her, the dark green shades of his eyes currently contrite and sombre than before. The look on his face had showed Isabella that there had been a conclusion he had already come up with, but an end he didn’t want to be correct on.

Even though the man had been silent, Isabella had understood of the muted question he had desired to hear the answer to. The woman could already feel the stemming disappointment crawl outside of her body, though, not disappointment for Joel’s suspicions but disappointment of her own lust, how her own desires had always controlled her. Isabella was a woman who did not care if another lady had a high libido, as she was one herself who had a rather large size, yet the reason why the Rosalind woman had been so disappointed in herself was due to the timing of her lewd adventures.

“I had sex with Adam the same night we were about to…” the lady awkwardly trailed off and instantly, the mask on Joel’s face tightened with acrimony and grief.

His eyebrows had knitted upwards as he slowly allowed the agonising truth in his mind, in despair, the taller being had unhappily whipped his head away from her as his eyes tightly closed, he had silently repeated to himself that Isabella was not his during that period of time, yet, it still hurt.

“Well, I’m sorry I was not able to give you the full pleasure Adam had given you that night,” he bitterly worded out and afflicted, Isabella had moved closer to him, to touch him and reassure the man of his emotions, but quickly, Joel had avoided the feeling of her hands.

As Isabella tried to calm the situation down, the woman furrowed her eyebrows, as she had pitied herself, understood that the night would not end the way she would have liked and Joel would still want to have his space, but, the Rosalind woman had still tried. “Joel, please let me explain---” but it was far too late, Joel had pointed his index finger towards her, his full eyebrows knitted down in envy and spite.

“You don’t need to explain yourself, I already understand what type of woman you are---”

“What type of woman I am? Joel, you’re implying me as some whore, Joel, I’m all yours that was all in the past—a time we were not together---”

“But we were still seeing each other! It’s the principle, Isabella!” Joel rudely seethed, his anguished anger enough to shut the woman up, ravaged, Isabella had gently tightened her fists, in disapproval of herself, “how would you feel, if a night we were supposed to be together I go to another woman because I couldn’t get the sex I wanted?” In disbelief, Joel had then choked out a sigh, aware of his argument had been valid and true to the dark-haired woman who stared back at him, thus, too miffed of what he had learned, Joel had finally stepped away from her and left to his home.

15TH OF DECEMBER 2020

Isabella had barely showed when she was pregnant with Robin, it had been three months into her pregnancy and Lana and Hana praised on how she could’ve been mistaken as not pregnant if she had not revealed the skin of her baby bump.

Though, the size of her baby-bump had not been what she had focused on, Kai had excitedly stormed into the room she had currently been reading in, with a letter in his hand, his pearly white teeth had glowed in front of her as he frantically waved the object in her face as if he were a mad man, in response, Isabella had twisted her face just as she had bookmarked the page she had been interrupted on.

“What’s going on?” Isabella curiously questioned and with his eyes enthusiastic, Kai had held the letter in both of his hands before he peeled it open.

“The Ophanim has sent me a letter,” Kai happily responded and unenthusiastic, Isabella had pulled her head backwards as she faked a happy hum from the back of her throat. Just as she had listened to Kai open up the letter, she had pondered how their one-year-old daughter, Ivy was doing, Isabella had known that Kai had recently put her to bed, yet, if she was being honest with herself, watching Ivy sleep would be more fun than listening to what the Ophanim had to say.

“Kai of Rosalind, the Ophanim has seen and heard of the growth of your family and wishes there’ll be a time where his grace will see you face to face, as he perceives you to be someone who is more suitable to converse with him,” Kai happily read out and due to how high the man was due to the news, Isabella had drawn herself back from aggressively rolling her eyes.

The woman had always perceived the organisation to be a fraud, in her case, it was clear as day, yet unfortunately for Kai, there would be an ugly wake-up call that had patiently waited for him. “I don’t trust them,” Isabella truthfully muttered and distraught, Kai had bounced his shoulders as kickback, he had placed the letter to the closest table and sauntered towards his wife, his dark eyes wide with strong belief and faith, unmoved, Isabella had gently rubbed the small swollen stomach as she had watched her husband shamelessly love the Oraphim Society.

“Isabella, the society has brought us nothing but kindness and warmth,” Kai reminded and tasked to have the woman on his side in strict religious beliefs, Kai had softly held Isabella’s hands, Isabella who had stiffly looked and watched the man crouch down to her level. “There’s no reason to be hostile,” he had wanted to speak more of Isabella’s hostility and link it to her past trauma, but he quickly understood he’d be a dead man walking if he had attempted to do that.

“Don’t you think it’s weird, barely anyone has seen the Ophanim?” Isabella curiously questioned, her inquire laced with knowledge and snarky humour. Kai had comprehended she had appeared that way because the conclusion she had come up with was that the Oraphim Society had been a cult with the Ophanim as the leader.

Frustrated, Kai pursed his lips, his eyes slightly shook with annoyance, silent, Isabella had slowly rocked on the chair she had sat on, her eyes levelled with her husband, unfazed by his state. “You’re being ungrateful,” Kai eventually spoke and instantly, the expression that had gloated on his wife’s face promptly dropped, immediately regretful over his choice of words, Kai attempted to speak to Isabella once again, “Bella---” yet, not in the attitude to listen to his apology, Isabella had briskly pulled herself off her seat and gently rubbed her belly.

“I’ll be checking with Lana and Hana,” Isabella whispered, her response laced with dolour that had anguished Kai enough to reach out for her, still, avoidant, Isabella snatched her body from Kai’s attempt of grip and thus she stalked to the opening of the door, before she exited the room, she twisted to look at Kai, her face had lacked distress but the Rosalind patriarch could see it in her eyes. “You should check on Ivy,” she forwardly commented fore she left the room.

PRESENT DAY

Scarlett had given Ivy her space by spending her time with Robin and Venus, leaving Ivy alone to collect her thoughts in her room, the oldest Rosalind girl would’ve done the same thing in her own cabin, but the dark-haired girl had wanted to be around family sooner or later.

She had sat on the front edge of her bed, hands clasped together as she had intensely examined the lines and textures of her skin to rid the obscene thoughts that had impended to haunt her mind. Her dark thoughts quickly ridden when the sharp knocks against the other side of her wooden door had been beaten and quickly, Ivy had allowed the figure who stood outside her room to come in. “Come in!” Ivy kindly called out and slowly, the door had been pushed open and carefully, Ellie had stepped into her room, the freckled face girl incomprehensible but Ivy could tell there were dark thoughts behind them.

“The others said you would be in here,” Ellie dryly commented and woefully, Ivy had stretched a smile across her face and gently made space for her girlfriend to sit next to her.

“Well, hi,” Ivy kindly greeted as she returned her eyes against the back of her hands while Ellie smoothly closed the door behind her.

Awkwardly, Ellie walked towards Ivy before she carefully sat beside her. Stiffly, Ellie placed her hand against Ivy’s arms, her dark eyes now covered with worry and protection, sadly, Ellie had examined the Rosalind girl ere she questioned her. “Are you okay, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Ivy muttered out but Ellie knew she had been lying and as much as she had been angry towards the entire situation, the red-haired girl comprehended that Ivy needed her.

“You know you can speak to me,” Ellie worded out and appreciative, Ivy silently thanked her, she had felt the warmth of Ellie’s palm leave her shoulders and in response, the dark-haired girl had tucked her bottom lip behind her teeth, by the corner of her eyes, she had watched Ellie place her hands against her knees as she had gathered her next sentences to inquire her lover.

“Ask me.”

Confused, Ivy eventually looked up to face the freckled-woman who stared intensely at her. “Ask me to kill him,” Ellie seriously pronounced and startled, Ivy furrowed her eyebrows as she had pushed a laughter that had formed in the back of her throat.

“No.”

“Why not?” Ellie asked exasperated as she had leaped onto her feet, arms up in the air like a mad man. “He cannot continue living after what he had done to you, Ivy, I won’t allow it!”

Hesitant, Ivy hushed Ellie to silence herself but the Rosalind girl understood it’ll take more for Ellie to become reticent. “I don’t want issues---”

“Then why not tell your mother?” Ellie included and quickly against the idea, Ivy hastily shook her head which had pushed the Williams girl to grit her teeth and grunt, heated. “Why do you want to be so peaceful about this?!” Ellie cried out, her eyes wide with choleric and fire; and impotent, Ivy had harshly taken in her breath.

“If I tell my mother about this---she’ll want to kill Rowan herself---”

“Isn’t that what we want!” Ellie yelled out, irate and heated, Ellie puffed out her breath, maddened that Rowan was a free man.

With her eyes closed, while Ivy formed her sentence in her mind, her fingers had gripped the sheets of her bed, the high emotions had spiked tears in her eyes and promptly, Ellie had felt guilt strike her heart. “And when she kills him, she’d want to pack everything and leave, she would want to leave everything behind and start a new life and I do not want to do that Ellie, not again.”

With her hands on her hips, Ellie walked towards Ivy, her emotions more balanced than before, “then when everything goes down, we can persuade your mother to let you and everyone else stay here,” she argued, “Ivy, Jackson is your home, her home, and she has Joel, I’m sure she will not be so quick to give it up because of what she has here.”

Slightly comforted with her speech, Ivy let out a small laughter. “You don’t know what my mum is willing to give up when it comes to wanting to leave something, somewhere or someone.”

Defeated, Ellie plopped herself beside Ivy, her eyes blue with sadness. Dimly angry that she wasn’t able to do anything to avenge Ivy for what Rowan had done to her. “Okay,” Ellie gently whispered, and upset, Ivy pressed her hands against her face as she had gently sobbed against it.

“I’m so sorry,” Ivy woefully apologised and empathetic, Ellie kindly pulled Ivy into a hug.

“You don’t need to apologise for anything,” Ellie responded, but remorseful, Ivy shook her head.

“If I just allowed you to explain in the moment and not running off to Rowan, none of this would be happening,” Ivy explained, as she pulled her hands away from her face, Ellie observed her now puffy features, her eyes red with gloom and dejection.

Understanding, Ellie had gently stroked the thick strands of Ivy’s hair, her lips in a thin line and fluffed eyebrows furrowed. “I am angry you did not give me a chance to explain everything,” she truthfully commented, “but it is not your fault Rowan took advantage of you.”

As she had attempted to hold back the rest of her tears, Ellie had thoughtfully brought herself to wipe and get rid of the wetness that had already soaked Ivy’s skin. Silent, Ellie pulled herself to kiss Ivy’s head, her mode protective and woe.

They had begun to speak of others things, to purge the sullen feelings Ivy had carried. “Dina gave me one of the badges I collect,” Ivy quietly brought up and currently, the two had pressed the length of their bodies contra the soft cot of Ivy’s bed.

“Yeah, I told Dina about your collection,” Ellie answered in a hushed tone, Ivy had then thankfully pressed her lips against the arched tip of Ellie’s spotted nose.

“Thank you,” Ivy whispered and pleased. Ellie carefully stroked her fingers through Ivy’s hair.

Her expression had held a look that pondered, and with her dark eyes, Ivy had sent Ellie a quiet lead to communicate about what she had thought about. Reticent, Ellie had traced Ivy’s jaw with the pad of her curved lined thumb, just as she gathered the series of questions she was about to inquire. “Do you know why Joel did that?” Ellie curiously questioned and equally as suspicious of the Miller man’s behaviour, Ivy shook her head.

“From what I heard, Adam said something to my mother that pissed Joel off,” Ivy explained, and as much as Joel’s actions surprised Ivy, the Rosalind girl was pleased that Joel was there for her mother. “Even though he seems like a mad man, I’m glad that someone is there for my mum.”

“At least everyone knows he loves her,” Ellie mildly joked and satisfied, Ivy slid her arms around Ellie’s figure, her limb curved around her body. She had stared at the Williams girl, the mention of love had strike in interest in her, she had wondered if there would ever be a time where her and Ellie would genuinely mean it to each other when it came out of her mouths, still, the brown-haired girl had been too tired to acutely think of the connection she had shared with Ellie, right now, Ivy had been comfortable where they were.

masterlist

♆

[oatm3al-c00kies]

listening to helplessly hoping and thinking about joel miller what else is new

[timelesslords]

Killer + Final Girl - Ellie Williams playlist

I hate you for what you did and I miss you like a little kid

listen on spotify

[abbysthighs]

This scene was so fucking cute.

[bonitanightmxres]

can i just say that joel singing future days to ellie makes me cry every single time

"i believe 'cause i can see, our future days, days of you and me"

she was his future and he made sure she knew that😭😭

[total-dxmure]

ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart. 

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach. 

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them. 

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself. 

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray. 

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent. 

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented. 

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her. 

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science. 

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away. 

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell. 

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm. 

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers. 

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending. 

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her. 

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch. 

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . . 

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you. 

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor. 

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song. 

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty. 

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove. 

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene. 

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through. 

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along. 

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked. 

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button. 

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush. 

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college. 

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.” 

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over. 

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers. 

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you. 

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held  

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were- 

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.” 

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything. 

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in. 

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.” 

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her. 

You liked her. 

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid. 

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day. 

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for. 

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good. 

But also a bit empty. 

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to. 

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt. 

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room. 

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts. 

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing. 

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet. 

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so. 

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door. 

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it. 

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell. 

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.” 

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah. 

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie. 

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band. 

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway. 

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie�� She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers. 

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even. 

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit. 

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass. 

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her. 

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after. 

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before. 

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard. 

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this. 

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear: 

Ellie was obsessed with you. 

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band. 

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse. 

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features. 

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing. 

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic. 

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus. 

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face. 

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs. 

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine. 

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm. 

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar. 

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents. 

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles. 

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot? 

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth. 

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy. 

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room. 

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know. 

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.” 

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman [WIP] MASTERLIST

A Joel Miller x f!reader series

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Warnings: canon-compliant (but Ellie's only like 15 so nothing from TLOU2 yet), slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, pining, possible smut we'll see, language, unspecified age gap, specifics by chapter

Chapters:

1 - Special (26/02/24)

2 - What he needs (04/03/24)

3 - Moron (03/07/24)

4 - Route D (19/07/24)

5 - Collide (28/07/24)

6 - Don't Leave me in the Dark (23/10/24)

[jennifercheckapologist]

Bandit Like Me - 00

Synopsis: You meet Ellie at her album release and she offers you her jacket.

Pairing: Rockstar!Ellie x Musician!Reader (Side Abby x Reader)

Warnings: None, really; Ellie's a slut (and southern); Reader's a slut (and southern); Reader isn't explicitly femme or masc, but I'm femme and everything I do is for myself; Eventual Smut; Joel is Super Alive

A/N: I haven't written something with a real plot that wasn't about Jennifer's Body in 5ever ! Also a transphobic radfem reblogged my last fic... terrifying. I would rather not interact with TERFs ever <3

Word Count: 1,252

On TLOU2 and Palestine

Resources

You need air- or at least, that’s what you told Abby before you rushed out onto the back patio, away from all the warm bodies, glitter, and the sounds of the world ending. It’s overwhelming being surrounded by celebrities now after all the years of shitty apartments and college parties. Now, they’re supposed to be your peers… or something like that.

You probably weren’t supposed to be here, on the guest list for one of the biggest parties of the year at Ellie’s absurd mansion- all dressed up to celebrate her. You definitely weren’t supposed to be outside, on her back patio in the cold New York air, watching her strum her guitar to herself.

You know you’re intruding, but you just can’t turn around. Not when Ellie looks so… like that with her signature guitar in her lap and her hair messily piled up on her head. She’s under-dressed in her blue jeans and wife beater. The only sign that she isn’t in the same tax bracket as you is the bright red racer jacket covering her arms. You’d seen that jacket a million times in photos. On-stage, in paparazzi photos, in music videos.

You hadn’t expected her here, outside all alone. Not when all the people worth name-dropping were inside, celebrating the release of her newest album. It seemed she was already working on the next thing. You hadn’t expected to get to speak to her either. She’d been famous since you’d been in high school- you still had her old country songs from long before she was a rockstar saved to your phone.

She must know you’re here- you didn’t make much effort to hide your arrival- but she stays focused. Her eyes are trained on her hand at the neck of the guitar, and she’s got that wrinkle between her brows like she’s doing surgery. The longer you wait, the more awkward you feel.

“Now, what would your daddy say if he saw you right now?” You manage a bit of confidence as you take a few steps toward where she’s seated, legs crossed on the concrete. It feels like a safe enough topic; something you could talk about for a while.

She chuckles, already back to being the impossibly charming star she was back inside. She flirts the same way that she breathes- instinctually, “What if I told you that he taught me everything I know?”

The answer? You wouldn’t be surprised. You’d grown up listening to Joel’s music with your parents, and you could hear bits and pieces of him all over her music. There were touches of him in your own work too. You still idolized him- had nearly choked on your drink when you saw him inside.

“About guitar,” you murmur, already melting into her, “or women?”

“Both, but there was only so much he could tell me about guitar,” she jokes. She finally looks up from her guitar, green eyes intense as she watches you squirm in front of her, “Did he see me leave?”

You shrug in response, your arms wrapped around you as you realize how cold it is. You can feel the goosebumps along your arms, and you’re starting to really regret your outfit choice, “I couldn’t say. He looked pretty relaxed the last time I saw him.”

She starts strumming again, something familiar- you recognize it from one of her first albums. It felt like those albums were a lifetime ago, but you remember listening to her debut when you were still in high school. She was only a couple of years older than you, but it seemed she was speaking right to you. You’d recognize those first tracks any day. Her strumming stopped again when you shivered and breathed into the cold air.

“Take my jacket,” she placed her guitar aside gently and began to remove the expensive leather for you, “Joel’d be pissed if I let you freeze out here, sugar.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” you protest, finally sitting next to her but certainly keeping your distance. You weren’t here to get starstruck and fall hopelessly in love with your seventeen-year-old self’s crush. You were supposed to be getting fresh air. You’d already promised Abby that you wouldn’t get into trouble tonight.

“You could,” she shoved the jacket toward you, “And you should.”

You push her hand back toward her, “Ellie, I know better.”

The smirk on her face doesn’t let up as she drawls, “You’re really hurting my ego here.”

“One second I’m in your jacket, the next I’m in your bed. I know how you are.”

“I’ve heard similar stories about you,” Ellie placed her jacket in front of you and crossed her arms, celebrating her minor victory as you picked it up and used it to cover your legs, “You don’t have to hop in my bed for it, I promise. I’m still a gentleman. Just don’t tell your girlfriend.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind. She’s a big fan,” You wink. ‘Fan’ might be a strong word here, but so was ‘girlfriend.’ What you and Abby had was something in between that. You looked good together, and you had fun. You tried not to think too much about Ellie knowing anything about your love life.

She reached for her guitar again with a laugh, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

You watched as she stood to leave, seemingly pleased with that being the end of your interaction. You stood awkwardly and called her name, folding her jacket over your arm. She only turned back around to you when she reached the door back into her house, “Your jacket?”

And god, you want to push her for how cocky she looks as she turns on her heel to grin at you, “Don’t worry, I’ll take it back once I’ve seen you in it.”

The moment she’s inside, the whole interaction feels fake. The only evidence you have of the moment is the red leather covering your arm, and you feel like a ridiculous teenager as you bring it to your nose to take in her scent. It smells earthy and expensive and now you’re certain you were smart not to put it on. If you had kept bantering with her, surrounded by her scent like this, you would be in trouble.

You stay outside, thinking about the feeling of being with Ellie for a little longer before heading back in to find Abby. She lights up when she sees you, her large arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in like you really do belong to her. She’s warm against you, and when she gives you your personal space back, she has confusion contorting her face as she stares at the leather folded over your arm, “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” you attempt to shrug off the edge in her voice, “I ran into Ellie Williams outside and it was cold so she-”

“She left her own party to sit outside and wait for a pretty girl to need a jacket?” She murmurs into your ear, pulling you back into her. You can already tell she’s preparing to make this a thing.

You frown up at her, “She was working on a song or something. I interrupted her and she was really nice about it.”

“I’m sure she was.”

“Oh, stop it,” you hook your free arm around her neck, “She knew I came with you.”

That makes the corners of her mouth perk up. She presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before responding, “Good.”

Housekeeping: Dividers again by @saradika ; pinterest board that got me here ; As always, I'm a black femme lesbian and that's my truth

[saintgoths]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - HEART TO HEART.

WORDS - 3,258.

RATING - 18+. [mentions of nervous breakdowns, mentions of lack of eating and fluff].

SUMMARY - ellie and Joel speak again about her immunity and the town is helping each other prepare for christmas within the preparation isabella meets an ex of joel whereas after venus and ellie share a conversation about their similar conflict.

if you want to join a the last of us discord/joel miller discord here you go! 𓆩♡𓆪

It had been the same night of the era Joel had taken Isabella on a romantic date, when he had expressed and deposited everything that had happened between Ivy and him during comforting conference he had shared with Isabella, Joel had been confident to share a dialogue with Ellie.

She had arrived to his porch deck, her face still and bleak towards the older person who was grateful enough for the auburn-haired girl to appear.

“Why do you want to speak to me?” Her voice rough and aloof, curt and sharp to his interference with her previous activity.

Unfazed by her brusque and concise attitude, Joel gently leaned against the wooden rails of his porch deck, somewhat eager to share the vital information with her, “it’s important, Ellie,” he softly shared with her, the sombre look on his face was deliberate enough for Ellie to understand he was being truthful.

She had pulled herself up the deck stairs, gingerly prepared herself to hear what he had to say. For a bit, it was quiet as Joel arranged himself to say what he needed to say. “The Rosalind family,” Joel softly mentioned which had caused Ellie to shift into a confused state, to why he had brought up that popular clan folk who had recently settled into their society.

Ellie had thought that Joel must’ve been trying to speak about Ivy, unbothered by Joel’s causal prying spirit, Ellie had waved her hand to reassure him that everything is fine. “Yes, Ivy and I are dating—”

“That’s not the reason why I wanted to speak to you,” Joel interfered, “the little girl is immune.” Surprised with the random data, Ellie easily realised who Joel implied about. “She thinks she’s going to die any time soon, and she just needs someone who is also immune to reassure her that everything is going to be fine.”

“How did you find out she was immune?” Ellie questioned.

“I found out myself, and yesterday Ivy begged me to ask you to speak to Venus,” Joel responded.

Ellie slightly stood up, inquisitive about the entire situation. “Did you tell them about my bite?”

Joel softly shook his head in response. “Ivy figured it out herself,” he answered, “but I did imply that I knew someone else who was immune so they wouldn’t worry about me telling the town about their secret.”

Receptive to the information provided towards her, she had stared at nails, contemplated on why Ivy hadn’t come up to her first. “Why didn’t she come to me first?” Ellie faintly whispered, somewhat insecure that Ivy hadn’t thought of her as a first option.

Just as dazed, Joel bounced his shoulders as kickback, “maybe she thought you would deny it if she confronted you about it,” he rejoindered in hopes to make Ellie less uncertain about Ivy’s trust in her. “Ivy’s a good girl,” Joel proudly mentioned, being around the Rosalinds had made Joel acknowledge that Ivy was exactly like her mother when it came to caring for the people around her, it was a great trait he saw within the two women.

“I know,” Ellie considerably answered, Ivy had made Ellie happy, in unique ways Ellie would’ve never thought of, her energy was refreshing and irreplaceable that had cognate Ellie to be ever so grateful for the Rosalind girl in ways she wouldn’t understand. “How’s your relationship with Isabella?” Ellie had always been curious of Joel’s association with Isabella, even though commoners would gossip about their popular bond, and Ivy sometimes told Ellie about the cliché and feeble things Joel and Isabella would say or do for one another, Ellie wanted to hear from the man himself.

“It’s going great,” he blissfully replied, jovial that Ellie had asked him about his romantic bond with the Rosalind matriarch. “We went on a date today, and we’re official, she’s an amazing woman,” he went on, blithe on the thought concerning Isabella.

Ellie sneakily smiled at Joel’s amorous stance. “I’m happy for you.” Joel had contentedly thanked her, cheerful in relation to his positive interaction with Ellie. “I’ll speak to Venus about the bite,” Ellie cordially informed the Miller man. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you, Ellie,” Joel amiably acknowledged the younger person who prepared herself to leave his porch deck. Ellie had beckoned her head, lauded with his response. “Good night, Ellie,” he kindly bided during the moment she left his properties.

Ellie curved to view the man who readied himself to enter his home, her small beam short and brisk as she watched the older man enter his cabin, “good night, Joel.”

1ST OF MARCH 2014

It hadn’t been long since from the time Isabella and Kai had settled in the society they had propitiously searched for, they called themselves the Oraphim, inspired by a celestial being from the Bible that was established as the Ophanim, Angels who were in the shape of wheels with eyes embedded on every inch of their body, Kai had been devoted to their religion, it seemed like he had been knowledgeable of the practice before they had reached the town and when they had begun to alight in the society, he was admittedly excited to join their belief.

During the era they had come to rest in the Oraphim community, Kai and Isabella had gotten closer to each other, romantically and amorously they had been interested in each other ever since they have met and every day of their travel, they had emotionally grown closer and had been popular to never leave each other’s side, avowed as “Kai and Bella”.

Forthwith, the two had sat in the hall for breakfast, they sat opposite each other, calm in each other’s presence and sight, faintly, Kai had sent Isabella a few glances, his hand wrapped around his fork, appreciative of the woman’s growth and maturity throughout the days. “You’ve changed, for the better.”

Kai hadn’t been surprised the first time Isabella had her breakdown, she would sometimes have a nervous collapse and wouldn’t want anyone to touch her. She would scream in her sleep, isolate herself or barely touch the food that was given to her; Kai was kind, and had been by her side through every disruption. Ambitious and eager to help her become better, to fight through her crisis, and of course, Isabella had been grateful for his entire existence, other people would’ve left her the moment they saw her disintegration but Kai had been beneficial and helpful throughout her entire journey and she loved that.

“I have a long way to go,” Isabella mentioned, flustered that Kai had seen every single meltdown she had recently lived through.

Insightful that Isabella was embarrassed for her traumatic response episodes, out of care he had grabbed Isabella’s hand, aware and wise that it wouldn’t be an easy ride. “And I’ll remain by your side, throughout the entire journey.”

It had been the daybreak since Isabella’s date with Joel, the woman had been downstairs with Scarlett simultaneously the rest of the children who completed to prepare themselves for the day. It was almost Christmas, and almost the entire town aided each other to assemble for the day, Isabella was one of the main persons to arrange the Christmas day and her children happily assisted their mother.

“Scarlett, do you want to prepare for Christmas with us?” Isabella kindly questioned during the moment she had pulled on her fluffy jacket.

Scarlett had paused, hesitant and unsure to accompany the Rosalind family on their task. Scarlett’s face was expressive enough for Isabella to understand what the blond girl wanted to say, but the Lucille girl was then compliant on their assignment and somewhat content that she had the opportunity to do something. “My winter clothes are at home.”

“You can still borrow my clothes,” Ivy attentively suggested, Scarlett benevolently thanked Ivy as she prepared herself to return to the room Ivy shared with her.

“But what if my mum interrupts everything?” Scarlett inquired, mildly clutched and fretful of her mother’s behaviour, she wasn’t distressed if her mother would do anything to her, truly, Scarlett dreaded the fact that her mother was moonstruck enough to be violent towards Isabella who had showed nothing but kindness towards her.

“Then, I’ll protect you,” Isabella easily replied, as if it was the uttermost clear answer. Gratified, Scarlett had followed Ivy to her bedroom to prepare herself for their upcoming event.

The family had arrived to their destination and the area was heretofore full and crowded with people who helped each other set up Christmas lights and ready the Christmas tree. The community was large thus extra hands were needed to assemble the day.

Scarlett flooded into a conversation with Venus and Robin as Ivy had assembled with Ellie who had an upset Dina beside her. “Dina and Jesse had a fight, so she’s just in need of a friend,” Ellie truthfully explained, and amenable, Ivy beckoned her head, sympathetic to Dina’s circumstance.

“You okay?” Ivy questioned, benign to Dina’s circumstance.

Somewhat appreciative of Ivy’s benignant stance, Dina dimly smiled at the Rosalind girl, “I’ll be fine.”

“Isabella?”

The matriarch of the Rosalinds curved to the holder of the voice, the tone was different and new from the one’s she was used to and there was a pretty woman, she was tanned-skin, a black woman with curly hair in a high curly-bun, she was somewhat the same height as Isabella and had cute doe eyes that were inquisitive and imperative, “so you’re the woman everyone’s talking about?”

Curious and speculative, Isabella observed the beautiful woman who stood before her, while she attempted to figure out who the woman was, Isabella gently puckered her lips, imperative, “do I know you?”

“I’m Esther, I’ve been at the Dam the week before you moved in here,” she kindly introduced herself, her smile bogus and concocted, Isabella slowly nodded her head ere she returned to her work and resumed her task. “It’s amazing how fast Joel moved on, surprising actually.”

Confused, Isabella raised both of her eyebrows fore she briskly became aware that Esther must’ve been an ex of Joel.  It was Isabella’s turn to be confused, knowing how Joel was it was indeed a surprise that Joel moved on hastily.

Isabella had forced herself to smile before she contrived herself to respond, “it must’ve been my charm,” she mandatorily joked and Esther had laughed with Isabella, only Esther’s laugh was genuine, Isabella had only tittered to seem nice. “It is funny that you two broke up not long ago and no one had mentioned you,” Isabella briskly commented, her tone to a certain extent militant to the thought that Joel had been with someone else, but she had to remind herself to not be crook and a hypocrite as she had her fair shares of suitors she had been intimate with.

Surprised by Isabella’s hostility, Esther raised the both of her eyebrows stunned while Isabella bid Esther a goodbye, Isabella finished her task and left to a complete fresh role.

Esther had curved her body to resume her given Christmas task, eventuality had bumped into Joel who was on his way to Isabella.

“Hey,” Esther greeted her voice discordant, her eyes revealed that she was to a certain extent happy to jounce into Joel who then gracelessly welcomed her with a short hello. The stance awkward, both of them artless for two different reasons, Joel uncouth because Esther was his ex and Esther uncoordinated because she had met Joel’s new girlfriend.

“I’ve met Isabella,” Esther forwardly mentioned, Joel embarrassed, he scratched the back of his neck, amateurish to what to say. “You moved on quick.”

“Life moves on,” he frankly answered, defensive about his hasty decisions.

Esther coarsely laughed at his opposing stance, his resistive characteristic was something Esther both loved and hated. He always thought what he did was right, for himself. “She was really nice to me when she realised I was your ex,” she bitingly conveyed, clearly sarcastic about Isabella’s guise.

Joel intelligent enough to catch the hint that Isabella was belligerent towards Esther, unmoved, Joel blandly gestured his head as kickback to the information, “I’ll talk to her about it,” he mildly mentioned fore he prepared himself to make way to his lover.

It had been a couple of hours from the time of the town helping each other prep for Christmas, Ellie had finally gathered the valour to knock on the main Rosalind home door, quietly prepared herself to converse with Venus about the immunity they both shared. The door was answered shortly after Ellie had knocked and the red-haired woman was met with Isabella who exigently thought Ellie had been looking for Ivy.

Isabella had curved her body to look back into her house and turned back to Ellie, her face inquisitive, “are you looking for Ivy?”

“No, I’m looking for Venus actually,” Ellie made clear, she didn’t understand why she had felt anxious, conceivably because after she had spent years thinking that there was no one was like her, there was unexpectedly a little girl who shared the same uniqueness as her.

Quickly, Isabella realised what Ellie was here for and had directed the Williams girl to Venus’ room then allowed the auburn-haired girl to have her private conversation with her youngest child. Briskly after Isabella had returned downstairs, Ellie had pressed her knuckles a couple of times against the brown wooden door that sealed the entrance to Venus’ bedroom. The little girl was quick to answer the door and quick to become confused to why Ellie had stood there.

“I’m not Ivy,” Venus poorly joked.

“I know,” Ellie replied, entertained by Venus’ dry humour she strolled into Venus’ room and closed the door behind her, Venus returned to her bed, quietly sat at the edge, arms crossed as she examined the older woman who stood in front of her.

“Well, is there anything you want?”

Ellie focused her sight on the dark-haired girl, she had wished she prepared herself what to say to Venus yet she had been busy being anxious than to ready herself. She had paused fore she rolled up her sleeve just as she neared herself to Venus’ bed, she silently revealed her tattoo that coated the old bite-mark to Venus who patiently waited for Ellie’s aim.

“Do you know what this is?” Ellie fervently questioned, free hand wrapped around the wrist that belonged to her infected arm, she lightly moved closer to Venus who brought it upon herself to inspect the limb.

She had shrugged, unmoved and in thought of the conversation useless. “A tattoo,” she forwardly answered ere she examined it more and saw the unusual mark she shared on her lower left leg. “A bite,” she lightly whispered, stunned at the view she briskly turned to look into Ellie’s eyes. “Did Ivy tell you?” She curtly inquired, in relation to her own immune bite.

“No Joel did.”

Upset, Venus had furrowed her eyebrows, the last time she had remembered, Joel promised that he wouldn’t tell anyone about her immunity.

“Ivy pleaded Joel for me to speak to you,” Ellie briskly reassured the little girl the moment she saw Venus’s disappointed look written over the young girl’s face. Gingerly, Venus beckoned her head at the data Ellie had informed her with, comforted that her sister, had done all of this so she could feel better about herself, plus it had made her even more grateful to have a sister like Ivy in her life. “Do you think you’re going to turn?” Ellie questioned, sympathetic and understanding of the little girl’s thought-process, as she was once in a place where she had anxiously and dreadfully waited to commute into one of those things that tragically took over the world.

Venus had nodded, truthfully, sometimes Venus wanted to turn out of guilt, she had the capacity to live a life hundred and dozens of infected people could not, maybe it was survivor’s guilt, maybe it was fear, or maybe she did not want to wait any longer.

“I had this bite for more than two years,” Ellie factually abreast the surprised girl who sat comfortable in the Williams’ girl latency, now interested with Ellie’s intended goal.

The older girl then rested her hand against her laps ere she looked around the room with an impressed look on her face. “I like your room,” Ellie kindly complimented, “way more decorative than your sister’s room for sure,” she joked and Venus joined in laughter.

“How did you feel when you realised you were immune?” Venus curiously questioned, in tune with the atmosphere, content that she had found someone just like her.

Ellie softly dropped her shoulders, her lips slightly puckered at Venus’ question, “I felt hopeful, I felt like my life mattered.” She responded.

“Your life does matter,” Venus kindly reminded her, “your life matters especially to Ivy.” Ellie smiled at Venus’ affection, she had normally perceived Venus to be cold and aloof, perchance Ellie needed this heart-to-heart conversation with the young Rosalind girl, it had opened her eyes to see that Venus was way more compassionate than people said she was. “How comes you felt like your life mattered then?”

Ellie paused, she was doubtful if it was safe enough to inform Venus what had happened, but compared to many people, Venus was way much mature than them, Ellie was sure Venus would understand.

“When I was younger, I was supposed to be taken to the Fireflies so they can create a cure from me, but things didn’t go as planned,” Ellie truthfully explained, affected by unhappiness in relation to the failed mission yet nostalgic.

“What happened?”

Ellie lightly glanced at Venus fore she curved her gaze to her clasped hands. “Joel stopped it because making a cure would’ve killed me.”

Venus remained silent, in retrogress thought, she tightened her lips, reassured and allayed by the silence the two were drowned in. She then broke the silence, her words smart and inquisitive, “is that why you hate Joel?”

Stunned by her keenness, Ellie had calculated her thoughts and pondered her response, she shrugged whilst she shook her head, unknowing what to think. “I don’t particularly hate him,” Ellie dubiously responded, at that moment she had thought of her answer once more ere she turned to look at the younger girl, “I don’t.”

“I’m angry at him for taking my life’s purpose,” she shrugged, her face pouted in dismay but she quickly gathered herself in a brisk smile, curious to what Venus would think. “Would you feel the same as me if your mother did the same thing as Joel?”

Venus contemplated about Ellie’s question, Isabella would never risk Venus’ life for anything, and Venus was familiar with that. Delicately, Venus knitted down her eyebrows just as she shook her head. “The feeling would be complicated, I have watched so many loved ones die because of the bite and knowing what runs in my system could help change the world—yes, I’d be angry and for God knows how long, but in the end, I’ll know my mother did it because she loves me so much to the point that she would sacrifice the world for me. I’m not saying you should forgive Joel now, honestly; you should be mad at him as long as you want.”

Ellie faintly hummed as kickback, she moved her gaze to the door, appreciative of Venus’ perspective. If Ellie was being honest, she needed this conversation as much as Venus.

masterlist

♆