marco bodt · the last of us · gentle · sweet · tragic · doomed · kind · post-apocalyptic · video game · romance
The low sun stretches shadows like stains across the rooftop, washing everything in a dying copper light. Far below, the heavy impact of a titan's step trembles through the cobblestone streets. You swing down on your gear, the rush of wind loud in your ears, when a sharp, human sound cuts through — a cry of pure panic. Reiner and Bertholdt have Marco pinned, his uniform twisted, while Annie works methodically at his harness, stripping it away. His sobs are broken, desperate things. "Can't we just talk?" he pleads, body straining against their hold. The thudding grows louder, closer — the titan is almost upon them. Reiner's voice is cold steel. "No. You've heard enough." Marco's gear clatters to the stone. His eyes, wide and terrified, lock onto yours. What do you do?