#i love the moldy ceilings :)

[alcorofursa]

Regency Square mall - FL

i spent too much time here for a mall with only 4 stores, i asked a store owner about the history of the place but instead got preached to for an hour. either way, this place is rad and i wish the owners had maintained it during covid.

[dustofthedailylife]

How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101

→ Masterlist || → Taglist -> Next Part

Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader

Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.

Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing

A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.

“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”

The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.

You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you. 

After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself? 

And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.

You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.

You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.

The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.

When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely. 

The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.

With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on. 

And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.

Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.

"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."

No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.

At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.

You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.

The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.

Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.

"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.

You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

Now what?

You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?

You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on. 

All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head. 

Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.

And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.

Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room. 

You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.

You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.

You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.

Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second. 

He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.

He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.

You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.

“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.

You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.

“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.

You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.

“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.

When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.

“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.

You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up. 

“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.

“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.

“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”

“Wriothesley.”

After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.

You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.

You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.

Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind. 

“Wriothesley!”

The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.

“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”

“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably. 

“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”

“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”

“Please. I insist.”

And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here. 

You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.

You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.

“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.

“No. It’s just… why–?”

“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.

“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.

“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.” 

You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”

“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.

“Why are you here?” You continued prying.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.

You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.

A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other. 

Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.

“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.

“Great. See you tomorrow then.”

And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off. 

You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.

On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.

"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively. 

As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.

"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.

"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.

"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.

"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.

“Duke?” You asked confusedly. 

“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.

“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.

You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.

The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.

You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.

“Stay.” 

You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.

“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.

“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.

“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.

You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.

Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!

The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.

You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.

You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.

"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.

Just who was he?

But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.

The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.

Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.

Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.

"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.

"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.

"That you're innocent."

"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-" 

You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 

"I know." He reiterated firmly.

You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.

"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.

"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.

That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.

"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.

He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?

"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"

"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide." 

And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.

His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.

He was the one who saved you earlier.

He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."

You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.

"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."

But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.

"Will I be able to see you again?"

A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.

"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.

A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.

And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.

And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! May I make a request of Hobie and the reader doing a long distance phone call during New Years (like different time zones) and Hobie is struggling to stay up until it becomes New Years for R? 🥹 Please take your time if you have a lot of requests already!

Thank you for the adorable request! I had so much fun writing it ❤️ I hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck! Hobie, one suggestive joke, fluff!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The clock ticks in Hobie's ears relentlessly while he's all cozied up in bed. It's already four am on his side of the world, the fireworks are long gone, confettis scattered and left on his shag carpet, and the smell of champagne and beer he tried to scrub off lingers around the house boat. He's dead tired from the festivities, and the quiet snores from the band who are sleeping in his living room doesn't help his sleep deprived state. All he wants to do is close his eyes and wake up ten hours later for breakfast. But he'll be damned if he doesn't wait for the clock to strike midnight in your timezone.

“You can sleep, Hobie, I'll be fine.” Your voice bounces off around the tiled bathroom as you hide inside and away from the loud party happening just outside the door. You just can't seem to be in the mood for partying when he's not there with you. Missing him is the understatement of the century, all you want right now is to be cuddled up under the sheets with him.

“I know, lovie.” He's extra affectionate when sleep clings to him. Whispering into the phone so he doesn't wake up his band mates. “But I couldn't sleep and leave you in last year.” You chuckle, his deep crackly voice caused by his sleepiness earns a fond smile from you, reminding you of the times he'd whisper sweet words to you before bed. “‘sides, we always snogged at midnight.”

“How will we kiss at midnight, handsome?” Your tone is full of affection mixed with a touch of longing. “Are you gonna make out with your phone?”

Hobie muffles his laughter against his pillow, or your pillow for that matter, one he sprays with your perfume before bed to make himself less lonely.

“I could, I have you as my screensaver.” He sniffs, the cold January night nestling in his bones.

“And I have you as mine, but that doesn't mean I'm going to kiss my dirty ass phone.”

“Why not?” He jokes, practically seeing your smile in his mind's eye.

“Because!” You laugh, the sound echoing around the bathroom and out of his phone's speakers. “Phones are as nasty as a toilet seat, y’know.”

“That one of your facts?”

“Yeah, it's a true fact.”

“I miss your fun facts, love.” He sighs, turning around to face your empty side of the bed.

“And I miss you, Hobie.” You stare up at the ceiling, watching a moth fly around the moldy roof. “I'm counting down the days until my contract ends. And I promise you'll hear my annoying fun facts again soon.”

“They're not annoyin’. At least tell me that the blokes over there are treatin’ you well.” He hugs himself, pulling the fluffy blanket closer to him. “Yuri says she'll march over there if someone's an arse to you.”

“Yuri or you?” You chuckle, hearing cheering outside but when you check the time you're still five minutes away from midnight.

“Both, love. We'll all fly over there and rescue you.”

“You don't have to wait long, Hobie. In just one month and you don't have to miss me anymore—” A knock interrupts you, telling you to hurry up on the toilet. “In a second!”

“Someone needs to shite, love.” He laughs against the receiver as he hears you snort at his joke. And with a click of the door, you open it, only to be met by the loud partying.

“Sorry,” he doesn't know if you're apologizing to him or to the person. “I'll find a spot, Hobie. Give me a minute.”

“You've got all my minutes, lovie.” He fights a yawn, hearing some shuffling and booming music on the other end. A contrast to the quiet of his houseboat.

After a minute, the sound of the party fades into the background. “There, found an empty bedroom with a view of the fireworks. I got lucky.”

“A bedroom huh? Should I open my camera for a video call instead?” You can practically picture the smirk from his tone alone.

“If you want to get a bill with three digits then sure, Hobie.” You joke, sitting down on the squeaky bed just as he sits up on his own mattress.

“I could buy a bloody ticket with that.” He looks at the small porthole window, seeing the moon and the clear sky just outside. It fills him with comfort to know that you're also looking at the same moon and sky. “Three minutes till midnight, love, what's your wish?”

“To see you.” You don't miss a beat. “And to more years with you.”

“‘m not goin' anywhere.” His eyes grow heavy with every second that passes. “Consider your wish granted.”

You feign a gasp. “Are you outside right now?!”

“Yeah, ‘m the one settin’ up fireworks.”

Laughing, you start to hear the countdown. “Thirty seconds, Hobie. What was your wish?”

“For you to come home.” Your heart squeezes in your chest. “And for Osborne to kick the bucket.”

You smile, standing up to get closer to the window. “All good wishes.” The crowd outside counts from ten backwards. “It's a nice night out, Hobie. Just think that a month from now we'll be spending it together again.”

6, 5…

“Jus’ the night?” He teases.

4, 3…

“All day, 24/7, and all the fucking nights.” You giggle, eyes glimmering as the multi coloured fireworks go off in the distance.

2, 1!

“Happy New year, Hobie.”

“Happy new year, love.” He inhales, missing your warmth and the press of your lips against his own.

“Are you kissing your phone? Please don't kiss your phone.” You're alone in the dark room, but your heart feels full whenever you talk to him. You might be miles apart from him but you've never felt closer to him than ever.

“Snoggin’ it right now.” Joking, he smacks his lips together.

“I'm going to have to sanitize your lips when I get home.”

“Usin’ your own lips right?” He flirts, thinking that it wouldn't work and would just have you laughing. But with your yearning sigh on the other end, he knows he got you.

“I change my wish, my new wish is for you to fly your flat ass out here and grant my first wish.”

“Watch me swing over there, love.”

[agere-fics]

Doctor Papa

dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄

pairing: caregiver!papa!bruce banner x regressor!little!reader

characters: uncle thor, bruce banner, reader, mentions of: steve, bucky, sam, and tony stark.

summary: you have to get MRIs done but you're nervous. thank goodness, papa knows how to cheer you up.

word count: 1,751

content warnings: MRIs, hospital gown, reader is written like they're a child's height, no mention of a particular chronic illness, please tell me if i'm missing anything

author's note: tadaa!! all done! this is the most i've written for a one shot! very proud of myself. also, this is inspired by me having to get MRIs done recently ajfhs

♡

Sometimes stuff we've done lots of times can still seem scary; which is annoying because who wants to feel anxious about the same exact thing over and over again?

You have to get these scans done by tomorrow. With every heart of your being, you wished that wasn't true but your previous scans were too old.

UGH!

Luckily, your papa had a trick up his sleeve.

He told you to stay here, in this gigantic, empty, white walled room. It was utterly boring, there were no paintings or statues or anything. Not even toys! Well, okay, you had your Mr. Rainy Day Bear but still... At least there were floor to ceiling windows- OH, and a skylight, too. Those were always nice.

While you waited for Bruce to come back, you watched what went on outside. There was Tony using his latest invention to attempt to lift Uncle Thor’s hammer. Tony still had no idea that it couldn't possibly work! How silly of him.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve stood in a far apart triangle. They were tossing around the Captain America shield like a Frisbee, guffawing, and yelling things that were joyously incomprehensible. It looked like lots of fun. Definitely more fun than MRIs. Maybe, they would let you join in later.

The double doors of the empty room swung open and papa’s humongous green form entered.

“Okayyy, love bug, I've grabbed all the cardboard pieces from recycling that weren't gross.” He grimaced thinking about the black, moldy gunk that spoiled some previously useful parts. He shrunk back down to Bruce Banner size after dumping the cardboard into a large pile. “We should have enough for our little art project.”

“Art project?” You looked at him expectantly. Your eyes were lit up with stars of joy this time, instead of meteor shower anxiety.

The idea was to make a cardboard MRI machine. Having an art project to focus on would comfort and reassure you about the process you would go through tomorrow. If he could make it fun, your anxiety wouldn't be so bad.

“I’ve seen the machine before, papa, I can make the bestest one yet!” You hopped on your toes, giddy with tight, flapping fists.

“I grabbed your sticker books and some paint, too-”

“OH YAY, THANK YOU PAPA, THIS IS SO EXCITING!!”

Mission accomplished. Anxiety gone, replaced with magical cure Art Project™. Bruce smirked to himself.

You laid down on a tall, square cardboard piece. Bruce traced your form with a sharpie as you giggled. Once you had the correct length, you both began cutting a rectangular piece and put that piece on a metal cart with wheels.

Then, you cut out half circle pieces and hot glued them all together until it made one large 4D sphere with a hole in the middle like a donut.

At one point, the glue burned you but Papa Bruce fixed it right up and stopped the booboo pain with a cure-all kiss.

Your cardboard MRI machine may look done to outsiders but it wasn't even close. It was missing the most important part of all: the stickers! There were heart stickers, stickers with dolphins, rainbow stickers, puppy stickers, stickers that had Mr. Hulk and Papa on them, too! There were even stickers of Stevey, Bucky, Iron Man, and Uncle Thor! Papa said for your birthday he'd make stickers with you on them, too.

You also painted squiggles, polka dots, lines, circles, triangles, kitty cats, and zig zags. All of them in your most favoritest color.

“There!” You stood proudly, hands on your hips. “Now, it's very, very pretty, papa.”

Papa gave you a minute and then asked, “Are you ready to practice?”

You blinked and sighed. Defeat warping your mood. “Yeah...”

Papa spun away, put a doctor's coat on, and then turned back, holding a clipboard. “Alright, are you the caregiver for Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

“Yeah, papa.” You lightened up a little bit.

“Papa? No, I'm Doctor Doctor. Who's papa?”

“You're papaaa!” You pointed at him.

“Okay, okay I'm Doctor Papa.” He repeated, “Are you the caregiver of Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

You tilted your chin up and did a faux British accent. “Why, yes, sir. He's feeling very, very bad and needs a scan.”

“Ah, yes, I see that on his chart, Caregiver.” He flipped through the scribbled pages on the clipboard. “Let's have. Mr. Bear lay down on the table with his head on the pillow.” Bruce gestured with his hand.

You laid your stuffie down on the pretend bed, placing Mr. Bear’s head gently on the pillow. You patted his hand for good measure.

Doctor Papa put ear plugs into the bear's ears and placed cushy pink headphones on him. The headphones had cat ears on them. Papa raised his voice a little, “Mr. Rainy Day Bear, what kind of music do you like to listen to?”

“Doctor Papa, Mr. Bear is nonverbal.” you said matter of factly. You raised your pointer finger to the sky. “I’ll answer for him. He likes The Wiggles, Papa- I mean Doctor Papa.”

“Alrighty then, The Wiggles album coming right up.” Bruce pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found the right music. “Wiggles rave?”

You nodded, then kissed the tippity top of Rainy Day’s head. “You'll be okay, Mr. Bear.”

Bruce began to push the cardboard bed into the donut sphere. You took a big, big deep breath in.

“BRRRR BEEEP AGHHHH RRRRR DNNNN-”

That breath was immediately released back into the atmosphere. “PAPAAA!” You clutched your chest, laughing so hard your legs felt weak.

Doctor Papa continued, “DRRRRR EEEEEE EHHHHHH MRRRRRR!”

You were rolling on the floor, tears leaving your eyes. How silly of your papa!

“BRRRRRrrrrrr….” Papa rolled the cardboard bed out of the donut. “How are you feeling Mr. Bear?”

“Papa, he can't hear you!”

Bruce laughed. “Oh, yeah, right.” He removed the headphones and then the earplugs. “How is the fantastic Mr. Bear?”

You lifted Mr. Bear’s paws and had him sign to Bruce, ‘I am okay.’

“Perfect! Let's take a look at your scans here…” Papa turned around and scribbled quickly on the paper. When he faced you again, he showed you the scan. It was a poorly constructed scribble of Mr. Rainy Day Bear with a big, biiiiiiiig, heart right in the middle. “I knew it, Lots-Of-Love-itis.”

You unburied the British accent. “Quite good, sir. Well done, Mr. Bear.” You placed a hulk sticker on his paw and hugged him tightly.

Papa kneeled down and asked, “Do you want to practice with you this time?”

You gave it a thought, looking this way and that. “Hmmm, will you make the funny noises again?”

“BEEEEP BRRR-”

“Not right now, Papa!” You shouted with a smile.

“Oh, during the practice?” He waited for you to finish rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay…” You breathed in, out, in, and out slowly. “Let's practice, Doctor Papa.”

♡

“Big day, lille venn.” Uncle Thor said as he helped tie the back of your hospital gown. He double knotted the strings behind your neck and then the ones by your hip. “There you are. All set.”

You frowned at that, looking at Thor with big, watery eyes. “Not all set.”

“It'll be okay.” His hands (placed on your shoulders) turned you to face him. “Remember your breathing?”

“Mhm.”

“Let's do it together.” He raised his left hand as you did the same. “Climb Yggdrasil, breathe in.”

You traced up your pointer finger.

“Let's sit at the very top, hold your breath.”

You paused at the tip of your finger.

“Slide down the Yggdrasil branches, breathe out.”

You traced down your pointer finger.

Uncle Thor had you repeat that four more times, until the tears dried and the anxiety flowed further away.

“Very good, great job. Let's go see Papa.” He held your hand as he walked you towards the scary room. Worse than the boring room from yesterday.

You turned the corner and there was Papa at the computer. “Hey there! The computer’s prepped and waiting for you, little one.”

You looked at Papa, then Uncle Thor, and then Papa again. “Okay… I'm ready.”

Papa led you to the metal bed. It was rectangular and thin. A sheet was laid out on it so you wouldn't get super cold. There was a thick pillow on the end that had your favorite kitty cat pillowcase on it, which made the corners of your lips turn upwards.

Papa pressed an arrow down bottom next to the donut sphere that brought the bed down to your level. He held your hand as you hopped on and then helped position you onto the center. He guided you through a big, deep breath so that your body was as comfortable on the table as can be instead of tense.

Next came pink headphones with cutesy kitty ears on them and plain boring ear plugs so that your hearing wasn't hurt from the loud noises. Papa already set up your favorite kind of music so when the headphones were placed on you, it was already playing. Bruce furrowed his brow in question, moving his thumb up and down. You replied with a thumbs up. You were ready.

Bruce handed you a panic button to hold just in case and laid a blanket over you to keep you warm. Papa kissed the top of your head and left the room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

BBRRRRRRR

‘It's okay. I'm okay.’

BEEEEEEPPP

‘Woohoo, I'm doing awesome!’

REEEEHHHHHH

‘This is boring, it's got to have been a bajillion minutes by now.’

After ten years (minutes), the machine stopped and Papa walked back into the room. He gave you a high five and bunches of praises that you only heard some of because of all the ear protectors. But you could tell by his facial expressions that he was so very proud of you.

He pressed the arrow down button again and the bed began moving to an easier height. You removed the headphones and earplugs yourself, you felt like such a big kid (in the best way)!

You stretched this way and that while making funny noises which made you abrupt into hearty giggles.

Bruce held your hand as you jumped down. Next thing you knew, he was hugging you tightly, picking you up, and spinning you around and around!

“I'm so very, very proud of you, bumble bee!”

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa!”

♡

[t0p-1-sidecharacter--fan]

Cecil, Connor and Travis ask their significant other if they'd love them if they were anything but a person but they'd already know

e.g

Travis: Katie, would you love me if I was a-

Katie: Yes I'd love you if you were a worm, a depressed banana, a ceiling fan, a laughing avocado, a dirty mattress or a moldy bread

(And they're the weirdest ones too, except the worm one, I'm pretty sure everyone knows that one)

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 19

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

Dewey looked at the boy with pity. Billy's right hand was wrapped in a white cast. He had spent an hour in the hospital setting his broken hand back in place. It was way worse than getting stabbed according to him. The officers on duty all thought the boy was hilarious. The makeup paired with the outfit he was a walking joke. Dewey only made matters worse. His coworkers almost died laughing watching the deputy sign his name on Billy's cast.

"I hear Batman is getting released," Todd said leaning on Dewey's desk. "Yes, Billy is being released I already called someone to pick him up." The deputy left his seat on his way to talk to the inmate.

"Stu said he's on his way," Dewey said taking a seat outside of the holding cell. Billy hadn't spoken much. The few times he did it was to give his statement on what happened or ask if you were okay. He didn't care about anything else. Billy was too busy planning on killing the fucker that laid his hands on you. "Did he say how Y/n was doing?" The boy's gaze stayed glued to the moldy ceiling. "No, just that he'd be on his way to pick you up. I told him about your hand." Billy looked at the deputy with a scoff. "That's great."

"What did you think he's going to miss that when he shows up to get you?" Billy had begged the doctor just to set his hand and leave it be. Turns out they can't do that. Now he was stuck with a heavy cast with Dewey's name on it. He didn't even agree to that the deputy just grabbed a marker and did it.

"I know seeing that mask set you off. That and what happened to Y/n. Look, you're not in any trouble. If Daniel decides to press charges the county won't prosecute you. It'd be a waste of time. You were protecting her and after all that's happened you don't need to worry about this." Dewey's change of heart confused Billy. Every time he's run into the officer he's been met with nothing but disdain and hostility. Now Dewey wants to act like his friend. "What happened to you? You hated me just days ago." Billy sat up on the bench making eye contact with the man.

Dewey realized what you said that day in the office was true. The three of you needed to look out for each other. At the end of the day, he felt bad for all of you. The ghost of the massacre would follow the survivors for as long as they lived. They were just kids. No one deserved what happened to them that night. Dewey hated himself for living through it and he was sure the three of you felt similarly. Survivor's guilt they call it. He read a book about it.

He pulled off his hat sitting it neatly on his lap. "It's been 26 days since I lost Tatum... Even less since the funeral. I can still hear her sometimes." His eyes focused on his shoes as he talked. "I couldn't save her. For a while I blamed Stu. How could her boyfriend who loves her let that happen? I know that Neil was the one who took her but I guess I needed someone else to blame." Dewey leaned forward looking up at Billy through the bars.

"I care about Y/n like I know you do. I treated you and Stu poorly because I saw what happened to the people you loved. That was messed up, I get that now and I'm sorry. I don't want her to go through what my sister did. You did a damn good job of taking care of her tonight."

Billy sat in silence. He didn't feel bad about what he did to Tatum. Neither did he feel bad about what he did to Sydney. It was necessary to move on with his life to start over. He felt It was fair considering what the Prescott family took from him. Maureen's choices shouldn't have fucked up his whole life but they did. Billy just leveled the playing field.

Listening to Dewey's sob story almost made the boy sick to his stomach. He didn't feel bad about what he did rather he felt horrible that he didn't care. Dewey wasn't his friend or his brother, he shouldn't care about his feelings. Yet here he was feeling sorry for the officer. "I can't lose her," Billy spoke in something akin to a whisper. His voice was broken almost as much as his hand.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders. You won't. After the stunt you pulled tonight I'd say she's in good hands." Dewey did think it was odd that Billy was able to move on so quickly from Sydney. He guessed that the boy was trying to fill the hole that abruptly appeared. Dewey couldn't blame him. He was doing the same thing. Where did that leave you though? After all of this, he didn't want you to get more hurt than you already had been. "You think so?" Billy asked loving the idea of protecting you. What he did at the party felt good. Feeling that fuckers bones crack beneath his hand was exhilarating. Of course, he wished he didn't have to do it. He hated the fact he let it happen. The details of your attack were lost on Billy. All he saw was the masked boy pining you to the wall as his hands pulled at your dress.

"I do. Just maybe take it easy for a while?" Dewey smiled lighting up the conversation. "I'll try." Billy nodded. "Deputy, Can I speak to you for a moment?" Another officer called Dewey away leaving Billy alone in the cell.

Billy looked down at his cast trying not to pick at it. He didn't like having it on. It was a nuisance to put it lightly. The doctor told him he'd have to wear it for at least six weeks. Frankly, he didn't think he could make it that long mainly because of the name written in black ink on the cast. "Billy?" Dewey spoke walking into the room. His keys jangled as he opened up the cell door. "Stu's here to pick you up."

Once all the paperwork was done and signed Billy was finally allowed to leave the county jail. "Oh, she's going to kill you," Billy said looking at your car in the parking lot. Stu was upset. Billy hadn't said one word to him. Not a "thank you," "glad to see ya," "go fuck yourself," nothing. "Me? What about you?" Stu spat getting into the driver's seat.

"What about me? I saved her from that creep." Billy thought he was your knight in shining armor. You kept him fed and he kept you safe. After all, that's what you wanted right?

"You told the whole town you two were dating. Billy, you knew she wanted to wait." Stu drove while Billy rolled his eyes. "They were going to find out eventually. Everyone already thinks you two were fucking behind Tatum's back." Stu kept his eyes on the road. "Don't talk about her." After his talk with Dewey, Stu felt differently about a few things. "Jesus, what crawled up your ass tonight?" Stu hit the brakes making Billy's head hit the dash. "What the fuck!" The boy yelled holding his now bleeding head. "It's four in the morning. I just had to drive across town to pick you up from jail and you haven't said thank you. I begged Dewey not to call your dad to save you from the fight that was bound to happen and still, no thank you. Do you give a shit about me at all? Cause lately I feel like the only one you pay attention to is little Miss Betty Crocker. If I have to put on an apron for you to give a fuck I will. Is that what it's going to take?"

Billy's head pounded and Stu's yelling didn't help. "I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear? My fucking hand is broken and you're upset that I didn't say thank you? You didn't even give me the chance. Where were you when she was getting attacked?" Stu's demeanor changed as he seemed to shrink. "You told me to get water-"

"That's right you were getting her water because you just had to give her alcohol. If you would've just gotten me and you a beer none of this would've happened. Don't jump my ass because all of this is your fault." Stu's face was red as tears weld up in his eyes. He gassed up the car driving in silence. The streetlights were smeared by his tears making it harder to see. This was his fault. That was what he told himself over and over. He was the one being selfish. He hadn't even noticed the bright white cast covering his partner's hand.

While Stu beat himself up over something he had no control over Billy cursed himself for yelling. "I'm sorry for shouting." Billy broke the silence. Stu sniffled trying to compose himself. "I'm sorry for jumping your ass." He responded quietly.

Billy turned towards the driver sighing at the sight. "It's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's Daniel's." Stu rounded the corner sending a glance to Billy. He didn't know his partner knew your assailant. "Daniel?" Stu asked. "Daniel Lawson. I heard Dewey say his name when talking to some other asshole." Stu looked over at his friend seeing that gleam in his eyes he hadn't seen for a while. "What are you thinking?" Billy smirked already having a plan. "I'm thinking we're about to have one less student attending Woodsboro high school."

By the time Stu pulled into the garage both men had smiles on their faces. Stu was happy to have his partner in crime back. It was probably unhealthy that the time he felt closest to Billy was when they were planning a murder. This was something only the two of them shared. Billy didn't want to include you because he saw you as too innocent to partake in such a depraved act. Even after what you did that night at Stu's place. To put it simply it was men's work.

Stu didn't want to include you because he had Billy to himself. It was their little secret this time. Stu would make sure you wouldn't find out about it. It was a win for everyone involved. Your attacker would disappear and Stu got to spend quality time with his boyfriend. It was a win win scenario.

"I'm going to take a shower and get something to eat before I head to bed." Billy pulled his boots off sitting them by the door. Stu stood behind his lover starting to kiss his neck softly. All the planning had stirred something inside of the short-haired boy. "Stu..." Billy warned not really in the mood. That didn't stop him however as his hand slowly slid down the front of Billy's outfit. "I'm tired." He spoke trying not to hurt Stu's feelings. His hand slipped underneath Billy's pants making him pull away. "Enough, alright? I'm tired and I'm hungry. I'm not in the mood right now."

Billy's hand was still killing him and his stomach was fighting for attention. Not to mention the throbbing headache he now had thanks to Stu. The last thing on his mind was sex unfortunately for his partner. Billy didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't personal but Stu took it as such.

"Whatever I'm going to sleep. You'll probably have more room on the couch than the bed." Stu walked upstairs leaving Billy with a headache. He was used to Stu's mood swings they happened ever so often. That along with an occasional manic episode. If he was lucky Stu would wake up in a better mood. Billy rubbed his face stopping halfway realizing too late he had makeup on. "Fuck..." He cursed.

Billy walked into the kitchen fixing himself a sandwich. He decided he would eat first and then take a shower. It was a funny sight. The man covered in makeup and blood stains was sitting at the kitchen table trying his best to eat a sandwich with his left hand. Once it was gone he put his plate in the sink, he'd wash it later. Billy decided to use the downstairs bathroom not about to suffer Stu's wrath once again.

Showering was more difficult than anticipated. The more he struggled to get his shirt off the more aggravated he got. "God damnit!" He cursed a little too loud. "Stupid..." He whispered to himself. With a couple of deep breaths, he went into the kitchen grabbing a pair of scissors. It wasn't an easy task to cut the shirt from his body. The doctor at the hospital cut the duct tape and the sleeve of his shirt off leaving room to put on the cast. Funny enough he left Billy to suffer with the rest of the fabric. His hand fumbled with the scissors struggling to get them to cut anything.

His yelling had woken you up. You could still feel the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Thankfully it was less aggressive than before. Stu was laying sideways in the bed drooling onto your pillows. "Guess everyone had a rough night." You grumbled pulling yourself up from the bed.

You threw on your robe before heading down the stairs. Billy was home. His cursing and mumbling gave him away. "What are you doing?" Your eyes were squinted, offended by the white light in the bathroom. "Babe thank fuck. Cut this." He held the scissors towards you while you just stood confused. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust.

"What happened to your face?" You moved forward to run a finger over the dried blood. "Police brutality." He raised his eyebrows at the joke which didn't make you laugh. "Your arm..." You noticed the cast branded with Dewey's name. Gently you reached out inspecting the cast. "Don't ask." Billy shook his head at the signature. "How bad did you break it?" Just like that the whole scene replayed in your head. For a minute or two you watched your boyfriend turn into something you couldn't describe.

It was scary. You remembered how he looked when he was chasing you in the mall a few days after you moved. It was that same terrifying look just directed at someone else.

"They said I broke four knuckles, nothing too horrible." It was horrible. Some of the worst pain that boy ever felt but he wouldn't tell you that. You huffed a laugh. "How are you feeling?" He asked running his left hand over your head. Billy's eyes looked you up and down. You knew what he was wondering. "I'm okay. He didn't get that far if that's what you're asking." Billy shook his head. "It doesn't matter how far he got Y/n he shouldn't have touched you at all."

You grabbed the scissors slowly cutting the fabric off his body. "Are you upset that he touched me or are you upset that he hurt me?" The question was asked calmly. Billy didn't understand the difference between the two questions. To you however the difference was great. You seriously doubted Billy would've acted that same way if it was some other girl.

Billy chose his words carefully seeing you had scissors and all. "I'm not upset, I'm furious." His fingers grabbed your jaw lifting your chin. Your hands stopped, waiting for him to say something. Billy's eyes wandered your face his heart squeezed at the thought of anything happening to you. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you tonight. I didn't know what he was doing. I heard you say my name and I saw his hand under your dress. I blacked out for a second." It was a bullshit excuse. He remembered every thought that flew through his brain. Billy could recite the boy's pained pleas if you asked him to. Now was the time to play up the boyfriend act. As days went on it got easier for him to do.

His eyes softened as he spoke. It was funny how things came full circle. You met Billy because of some bully trying to see down your shirt. That was the first person he ever hit. Now look at the two of you. Both of you were broken but somehow you were looking out for each other.

"You think you embarrassed me?" You pulled away from his touch. Everyone would be talking about it. You knew that, but Billy almost killed a man with his bare hands and he's worried about the scene he caused.

"You're not embarrassed?" Billy cocked his head to one side. You started to peel off the cut up shirt as you spoke. "No. I'm scared, I-I'm worried but I'm not embarrassed. Do you think I'm embarrassed of you?" That was one of Billy's concerns. That after tonight you wouldn't want anything to do with him. He knew if the roles were reversed he'd probably never leave his house again. Fearful of what people might say. You looked the man up and down. He looked broken literally and figuratively. "The guy wanted to see my scar. I think he had more to drink than I did." You laughed trying to make a joke out of the serious conversation. "It was scary, I thought... something bad was going to happen and it might have. I don't know. You stopped him before anything seriously fucked up happened so thank you."

You tossed the ripped pieces of the shirt in the trash almost falling over from spinning too fast. "Baby," Billy said as he grabbed your arm stabilizing you. "Still feeling it huh?" He smiled. "I'll never do this again." You promised but Billy doubted that. Billy knew by the way you and Stu danced that you two would have partying in common.

"I bet." He said turning on the shower so the water could warm up. "Make sure you scrub your face good. You don't want to break out." Billy nodded at your advice. "Are you going back to bed?" You yawned at the mention of sleep. "I'm exhausted. I'll save you a spot in bed okay?" Billy watched you walk into the hallway. "Okay, I won't be long." You shut the bathroom door behind you going back up to your room.

You tried to be normal about it all. Part of you swooned over what he did. In some sick twisted way, you enjoyed seeing him defend you the way he did. It made you feel invincible which was a dangerous feeling. The other part of you however feared the man you began to love. He could keep you safe from everyone but himself. Stu's behavior at the party was unsettling as well. The violence was more important to him than you. He rushed to your side but his shouting didn't stop. The fight was thrilling for Stu.

With a heavy heart and head, you threw your robe over the chair crawling into bed next to Stu. "Scoot." You shoved the boy forcing him to move to the side of the bed. Stu rolled over his back facing you. Deep in sleep, he grabbed your hand pulling your arm over his waist. With a small smile, you pulled him in effectively snuggling up to the man.

You didn't know how things would go. The headache you had could've been the alcohol or your overthinking. You were scared of the future. For too long you had lived on a day-to-day basis. It was nice for a while but eventually, you'd have to face the music. Something had to give.

Billy pulled on a pair of boxers along with a t-shirt before heading to bed. Stu had you wrapped in his arms leaving plenty of room for Billy. Carefully he climbed into bed not wanting to wake up either of you. He wasn't happy with the way things played out. Daniel should be dead not just concussed with a broken nose. Billy didn't give a shit about the details of your attack. That son of a bitch laid a finger on you, the one thing Billy promised to prevent. Daniel didn't know it yet but he was a dead man walking.

Taglist (closed): @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @zeysartzone @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum @geekygremlin @madneedshelp

[j-eryewrites]

Please Hold to My Hand

Part Four of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: 11.4k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, gun violence, people, death, gore and injuries, lots of feelings, horrible jokes (that I even laughed at), language. (Let me know if I have missed anything)

Author's Note: Finally! It’s out. I’ve been writing this between classes and really haven’t had time to review the work. Piper is finally letting down some walls and so is Joel! Yay! We get some more flashbacks and, of course, Ellie and Piper's shenanigans. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you liked it, I’d love to hear from you either with comments or reposts! Thanks!

Dirty. Piper felt dirty as she stood in the moldy gas station bathroom. Moss grew from the cracks in the ceiling and she was sure the black substance behing the sinks was something otherworldly. Shivering, Piper squeezed her limbs as close as she could to her body making herself as narrow as possible. Behind one of the bathroom stalls was Ellie, taking a bathroom break. 

Piper couldn’t understand how her sister could relax herself enough to use the restroom in a place like this. With the creak and slam of the bathroom stall door, Ellie appeared with a care in the world. Again, Piper shivered and took a step away from her sister as Ellie stepped in front the the broken mirror. 

“Jesus Ellie let’s go,” Piper said before turning around to face her sister. “What are you–” Piper laughed and for a moment she forgot about the disease infested place she was in. 

“Pew, pew. Pew,” Ellie whispered. In her hand was the gun Piper had given from her. 

Piper shook her head at her sister’s antics. “No, no, no. Here’s how you do it.” Stepping forward, Piper reached out a hand to grab hold of the gun, but Ellie pulled away.  

“Hey, let me do my thing,” Ellie begged. 

Rolling her eyes, Piper crossed her arms and sighed. “Well you’ll shoots someone’s eye out. At least take out the bullets.” 

“Hmm,” Ellie hummed not realizing that was an options. She turned the gun around looking for a way to remove the tiny deathly objects in the gun. 

“Here,” Piper muttered as she showed Ellie how to remove them. The young girl watched and took note of everything that her sister did. The dull metallic bullets fell out the cartridge and into Piper’s hand. “See?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah,” Ellie said and she retrieved the gun from her sister’s hand. Once again Ellie raised the gun at the mirror and put on her best menacing face. It was practice for when she actually got to shoot the weapon. In her mind, Ellie wondered if she would be as good of a shot like Piper was. 

“Can we go now?” Piper asked. Her shivers got worse and Piper began to believe she could turn infected from just standing in the bathroom any longer. 

Cocking the gun back, then shoving it deep into her backpack, Ellie nodded and the two girls trudged through the mess and out the doors to the fresh dry air. 

Coming around the corner, they saw Joel just as they had left him; On the ground with one knee raised as support as he blew into a long straw like thing. 

“We have to do this every hour?” Ellie sighed. 

Piper could see Joel was just as annoyed as Ellie when it came to stopping every hour. “Gas breaks down over time. This stuff’s almost water. Back in the day, we’d drive 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere,” Joel said. 

“So,” Piper asked, “where’d you go?”

Joel looked up at the two girls. His eyes squinted underneath the bright light of the summer sun. “Pretty much nowhere.” 

“Boring,” Piper muttered before finding a rock to kick around. 

Joel continued blowing into the big straw. 

“Nice!” Ellie leaned in close. “How does that work?”

“It’s a siphon. It’s when liquid…” Joel paused thinking about his words. “travels against gravity because pressure…”

Ellie smirked and chuckled. “You don’t know.”

“I know it works,” Joel quipped back making Ellie laugh even more. 

Once the laughter was over, the young girl soon sought other sources to still her boredom. Lifting her legs up comically into the air, Ellie began to peruse around the rusted cars that Joel was searching for gas from. 

As her eyes followed the rock on the ground as it rolled back and forth, Piper called out to Ellie. “No wandering”

With the biggest sigh she could conjure, Ellie replied. “Okay. This is your fault then.” She warned. Then dropping her backpack to the ground she pulled out a small book. Flipping it open she began to read. “It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery.” Briefly, Ellie looked up to gage Joel’s and Piper’s reaction. Laughing, Ellie revealed the cover of the book. “No Pun Intended, Volume Too” by Will Livingston. “Volume Too.” Look. You get it? “Too”? Like, T-o-o.

“Jesus,” Joel grumbled. 

“What did the mermaid wear to her math class?” Ellie paused. “An algae bra. Like, algae bra. Okay, I stayed up all night…”

“No.” Joel tried to interrupt Ellie, stopping her from telling the next horrible joke. 

“wondering where the sun went…,” Ellie continued. “...and then it dawned on me.” 

This joke made Piper laugh. It wasn’t so much the joke, but how much Joel despised them. His face contort with each failed attempt at a joke and it made both of the young girls laugh. 

Joel sat up and glared at the two of them. “Feel free to wait in the truck.”

Piper’s eyes widened at the warning. “Going now,” She mumbled before leaving her rock on the ground for the safety of the boiling hot car. 

“Ugh, okay,” Ellie sighed. “but just know,” the young girl warned, “you can’t escape Will Livingston. He’ll be back. There’s nothing you can do to stop him.” 

As the girls hopped back into the car, Joel returned his mind back to retrieving gas. It was only a few more minutes for the dark liquid shot thorugh the hose into the gas canister and Joel was ever grateful for those few minutes of silence and solace from Will Livingston and his terrible jokes. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Everything was the color of rust. Rust was the color of time and those forgotten and neglected, left to the mercy of nature. It was boiling and there was noting the air conditioning in the car could do. There wasn’t anything in sight except for dirt, sand, and crumbling cars. Even the normally blue sky was tinted a shade of brown. Piper felt like she was stuck in a valley of emptiness, not a living thing around. 

As the car drove further and further down the road, Piper moved her gaze away from the window and instead to the rear-view mirror. There in the mirror she saw something alive, something that kept her alive and going, Ellie. The younger girl sat lazily in the back of the truck using her bag as a head rest. Meanwhile, her hand gripped a pencil dragging it back and forth across a notebook. At least someone was entertained. 

Eventually, Piper brought her sight back onto the endless road in front of her. Cars were pilled high to the sides as if something huge parted the sea of metal carcasses. 

“Must’ve been some truck,” Piper mumbled. 

Joel glanced over the side at the girl. “Yeah, they used to stick big-ass plows on them, and clear the roads for their tanks and such.”

Piper nodded her head in response. It seemed like Ellie had tuned into the conversation, her sketch book forgotten beside her. “I wanna see a tank,” Ellie chirpped as she scanned the sea of vehicles.

“You will,” Joel assured Ellie. “Tanks, choppers, all that stuff. But they’ll fight the wrong enemy. Just scattered around now.”

Bitting the inside of her cheek Ellie pretended to listen beyond the words “You will” before changing the topic. 

“I got somethin’. Here,” Ellie passed up a small tape. Joel, curious, snatched it from her hands. “This make you all nostalgic?”

He had to pull the tape farther away from his face to read the fine print. His eyes pulled into a thin line finally making the words readable. Damn he was getting old. “This is actually before my time,” Joel corrected. 

Ellie’s smile faltered. “Great,” she mumbled. 

A strange tightening in his chest formed at the disappointment in Ellie’s voice and Joel couldn’t help but want to salvage the situation. “It’s a winner, though.” Ellie’s smile was back on her face. Upon seeing her smile, Joel placed the tape into the slot and hit play. 

♪ We met in the springtime when blossoms unfold ♪

Tapping her finger on Piper’s shoulder to the melody of the song, Ellie’s flashed with a wicked glint. Withdrawing her hand and shoving it into her bag she pulled out something new. “Oh, man. Got somethin’ else,” Ellie said. Joel and Piper mindless nodded at her words. “It’s, uh… light on the reading, but it has some interesting pictures.”

As Piper and Joel whipped around Ellie’s smirk grew. 

Gotcha! She thought.

“Oh. No, no, no. Put that back. That’s not for kids. Ellie!” Joel’s and Piper’s voices seemed to blend together as they tired to discourage Ellie from looking further. 

Playing align with the ruse, Ellie buried her face between the pages, getting a good look at the images upon them. “How would he even walk around with that thing?”

“Fuuuckkk,” Piper groaned as she placed her head between her knees.  

“Please get rid of it,” Joel begged. His hand reached back to take the magazine away from her. 

Ellie swatted his hand away. “Hold your horses. I wanna see what all the fuss is about.” She quickly perused the rest of the magazine, except for a few pages. “Why are all these pages stuck together?”

Piper gaged like she was about to throw up. 

“Uhh… the…” Joel was speechless. 

Then Ellie burst out laughing. Her head thrown back as the giggles overcame her small figure. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya.” A window rolled down. Dusty wind blew around the car. “Bye-bye, dude!” Ellie had thrown the magazine to the wind. 

♪ Alone and forsaken by fate and by man ♪ Oh Lord, if you hear me, please hold to my hand ♪ Oh, please understand ♪ Oh, where has she gone to ♪ Oh, where can she be ♪ She may have forsaken some other like me ♪ She promised to honor, to love, and obey ♪ Each vow was a plaything that she threw away ♪ The darkness is fallin’, the sky has turned gray ♪ A hound in the distance is starting to bay ♪ I wonder, I wonder what she’s thinkin’ of ♪ Forsaken, forgotten without any love ♪

꧁_____________꧂ 

The scene had changed now. It was green. There were trees and fields of grass. It was a welcomed changed to the drylands they had just drove through. The air was cooler now and the car wasn’t as hot. Piper could even imagine she was on a real roadtrip driving through the world before the outbreak. She felt normal. 

She pressed a button and the passenger window opened. A brisk air kissed Piper’s face blowing the freed stands of her hair behind her. Yet she wanted more, so she slowly pulled out the hairtie. Her scalp groaned as the pressure was released. Then came the bliss as the wind weaved between the strands of her hair massaging her scalp. Her eyes close shut opening her arms to the comfort the wind gave her. 

A shiver creeped up Joel’s shoulders and he turned his head to Piper. His mouth hung open with his forgotten wish to close the window. She seemed at peace as the music played and wind blew through her hair. She looked like what a kid like her should look like: Brow not filled with the worry of survival, hair not tied up and closed off to the world, happy, calm, and content. A thought of pity grew in Joel’s chest. This is how Piper should be living. Both her and Ellie. Afterall, they’re just kids. Kids with the future of the world on their shoulders. It was a weight they shouldn’t have, that no one should have. Joel knew that better than anyone. 

“All right,” Joel sighed. “That’s enough for today.” 

The wind release Piper’s hair from it’s hold as the window rolled back up. Rocking side to side, the truck turned away from the road into a grassy field. They were headed to the forest up ahead. A forest that would give them shelter for the long night. 

Together, they did their part to unpack and get food started for dinner. Sitting down on the ground, the three of them ate. Piper wasn’t quite sure what they were eating, but it was cold and good. The square like noodles just slide down her throat easing her stomach’s plea for food. It was delicious. 

A slurping noise came from beside her. “Jesus, Ellie. Slow down,” Piper said. 

Ellie was slouched over her bowl devouring the food. Red sauce encased the skin around her mouth. “This is slow,” She mumbled with her mouth full of food. “What am I even eating?” Ellie asked. 

Joel using his fork to point to the food inside his bowl answered. “That is 20-year-old Chef Boyardee ravioli.” His tone made the two girls think that this was the best food ever created on planet earth. 

Ellie shoved another fork full of food into her mouth. “That guy was good.”

“I actually agree,” Joel added. 

“Hmm…” Piper hummed. “How long we staying out here?”

Placing his bowl down into his lap, Joel replied. “I figure I sleep tonight… and drive tomorrow all day, all night, get us to Wyoming by next mornin’.”

Ellie sighed and rubbed her now fully belly. “So can we start a fire? I’m freezing.”

“No.” There was no hesitation in Piper’s answer. 

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re not in charge, now are you Piper?”

“Hey, hey,” Joel interrupted and waited for the two girls attention to be on him. “Now, why am I gonna tell you no?”

Sinking into the ground with disappointment Ellie answered, her voice as monotonous as they come. “Because Infected will see the smoke.” 

Joel shook his head. “No. Fungus isn’t that smart. This is too remote for Infected, anyway.”

“People?” Ellie guessed. “So what are they gonna do? Rob us?” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice as if being robbed was so horrible. 

It was Piper who spoke next. There was no emotion as she spoke. The peace Joel had seen her face earlier evaprotated and he could almost see the ghosts hiding behind Piper’s brown eyes. “They’ll have way more in mind than that.”

“Okay.” Joel softly said as he observed Piper. There it was again, that same tightness his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to her. Instead he told the girls to hurry up and eat then get ready for bed. 

“Actually smells kinda good,” Ellie commented as she flung her sleeping bag out, laying it onto the ground. 

“Well, that would be Frank’s then,” Joel replied doing the same with his sleeping bag until a shuffling nearby caught his eye. “What are you doing?” Joel asked Piper. 

Her sleeping bag was still bound. Instead, she stood by the truck grabbing something from her bag. It was a gun. 

“Getting ready for watch,” Piper said. Her focus on checking her gun. 

Joel pushed himself off the ground and approached the girl. “No. We’re all sleeping.” 

Piper ignored Joel as she checked the bullets, counting them out. Joel did the only thing he thought would work. Placing his hand on the gun, her forced Piper to lower the weapon and look at him. 

“Trust me,” Joel said. “No one is gonna find us.” His voice was clear and full of comfort. It was the same voice he’d use whenever Sarah cried to him at night about the monsters in her closet. 

The teenager scoffed. “Bullshit…” Yet the longer she looked at Joel, the more she felt like letting go of that gun and letting the walls fall just this once. Her eyes fell to the ground. “jesus fuck…fine.”  

Removing his hand, Joel returned to his sleeping bag. He watched as Piper placed the gun next to her sleeping bag, which now laid out on the ground next to Ellie’s. Eventually the girl did lay down, pulling the covers over her shoulders. Satified Joel followed suit and the lamp light dimmed until it was dark. 

“Joel,” a small voice whispered. “Joel.”

Joel groaned. “What?”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” It was Ellie. 

“Ellie…” Piper warned with a tiredness in her voice. 

“I’m serious!” Ellie said. 

“Yeah,” Joel said giving her the go ahead. 

“Why did the scarecrow get an award?” 

Joel was silent for a moment before he answered. “Because he was outstanding in his field.”

A whispered wave of giggles escaped the two girls. Both of whom didn’t expect the answer. 

“You dick! Did you read this?” Ellie asked a bit louder. 

“No. Now go to sleep.” Joel commanded. 

“Hm,” Ellie mumbled before settling back down. “...Those people you said… there’s no way anyone knows we’re here, right? No one’s gonna find us.”

With those words, Joel was thrown back into his past and all he could hear was his daughter crying in the dark of her room. All sign of sleep and exhaustion evaded him now. “No one’s gonna find us.”

“Okay. Goodnight Pipes” Ellie whispered. 

“Night Els…,” Piper replied. “...night Joel.” 

꧁_____________꧂ 

There was no way Piper could ever sleep. Her sister’s words floated around her head and Piper had to be sure. Ellie had to be safe. It felt like eternity waiting to hear Joel’s breathing slow. Once the old man had fallen asleep, Piper peeled herself free from her sleeping bag. Each movement was carefully calculated to achieve the least amount of noise as possible. With her gun in hand and jacket zipped up to the top, Piper climbed on top of the truck, finding a seat on the roof of the car. 

She had to admit, the forest was beautiful at night. There was a low chirping noise rumbling throughout the trees. Crickets, Piper guessed and she prayed it wasn’t something more. After a moments, contemplation the teen concluded her original hypothesis was correct and she soon tunned her ear into the other sounds of the night. 

Piper was glad that they had the truck. It proved to be a useful vantage point. Even in the dark, Piper felt as if she could see more of the forest, than she would on the ground bringing the teen comfort. 

The girl and the woods fell into a rhythmic cycle as the minutes passed. There was the cricket’s song, the breeze tickling the trees, and her own breathing. Again, and again this cycle came. Crickets, breeze, breath. Crickets, breeze, breath Crickets, breeze, breath, shuffling. Piper froze. Her head whipped around, and her gun raised defensively. She was ready to shoot. 

“Kid?” A gruff voice spoke. It was Joel. Piper’s shoulders lowered at the sight of the man. “What are you doing?”

Piper didn’t answer for a moment. “On guard.” Not wanting any more conversation, she whirled back around, her sight on the forest once again. 

Joel stood up and his hands found their place on his hips. He looked at Piper as she sat defiantly on the truck. Her back turned to him. The sight almost made him chuckle as he saw himself reflected in her figure. Almost. Instead, a worry fell over him. She was a kid. A kid who deemed sleep just as pointless as him. Releasing his hands from his hips, Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. Piper needed to sleep, but she was stubborn. Just like him and if he guessed now, Piper wouldn’t go to sleep without a fight. 

He was too tired for this and too old to fight a headstrong teenage girl. Instead, Joel kept his mouth shut, picked up his rifle and turned his back to her, guarding the other half of the forest. 

The two held their ground in silence and the forest fell back into the rhythm again. As the pattern repeated, the more Piper felt unease. Sighing, she turned around to find Joel. 

“I’m sorry,” Piper said. She wasn’t even sure why she said it, but she knew she needed to. 

Joel turned his head around at her voice. He wasn’t sure why she apologized yet still he replied. “It’s fine.”

Silence fell over them again and Piper bit the inside of her cheek. It was awkward to say the least. She waited, but then realized Joel wasn’t going to say anymore, so she turned back around. 

“...the stars…are nice,” Joel noted.

Piper looked up for the first time that night. There they were. The stars were breathtaking. She hadn’t ever seen them that clear. “Yeah,” she agreed. Together, Joel and Piper withdrew their attention from the forest to the sky. “You know, Ellie is a fanatic for the stars, space, whatever else is up there.”

Joel glanced at Piper and there he saw it once more. The very expression in the car he saw on her face, now bloomed under the night sky. There was the kid she should be. 

“...that one, the one that looks like a demented spider. Apparently its called Hercules.” Piper pointed up into the sky.

“Huh,” Joel hummed. 

“Yeah, that’s about all I know. Ellie, I swear, knows them all.”

Joel tore his eyes away from the demented spider constellation. “Kid, you should get some sleep,” Joel suggested. 

“In your dreams, Joel.” 

꧁_____________꧂ 

It was official. Ellie hated sleeping outdoors. This was the second time she woke up with a knot in her back. Groaning she pushed herself off the cold ground of the forest. Looking around, she saw the rolled up sleeping bags nearby. 

“Look who’s finally awake,” Piper commented as she walked by Ellie carrying her supplies to the truck of the car. 

Ellie waved her middle finger in the air for Piper to see earning a laugh from her sister. Soon the young girl’s stomach began to rumble. Fueled by her hunger, Ellie crawled over to the pots and dishes piled together hoping to find something to munch on. 

Lifting a lid, she found a boiling liquid. Taking a brief sniff, she pulled back and slammed the lid back on. “Ugh! The fuck is that?”

“You don’t like coffee?” Joel asked.

Whipping her head around to face him, Ellie replied. “If it smells like that, no.” Piper walked up beside her sister and crouched down, lifting up the lid to the coffee pot. Ellie saw the darkened circles underneath her sister’s eyes. “How’d you sleep?” Ellie asked Piper. 

“Like shit,” Piper replied. She eyed the coffee. “Can I have some?” Joel nodded and Piper grabbed a cup and poured the black liquid into it. She raised the cup to her lips and drank. 

Ellie gagged. “You are no longer my sister.”

Piper chuckled. “You’ll get it one day.” Ruffling Ellie’s hair, Piper stood back up to help Joel finish packing the truck. 

“Is that seriously what those Starbucks in the QZ used to sell?” Ellie questioned. 

“Well, theirs was a lot fresher than what Bill saved up, but, yeah, this is what they sold,” Joel explained.

Ellie shook her head. “Smells like burnt shit.”

Piper laughed once more. “Alright, hurry up and eat. We’ve gotta leave soon.” Leaving Ellie, to scavenge once more for food amongst the pile of  dishes, Piper sipped her coffee. She hoped that maybe the caffeinated liquid would keep her sinking eyes awake and the exhaustion in her bones far away.  

꧁_____________꧂ 

“Eyes on the map,” Joel instructed. His voice clear and firm.  

Piper shot up in her seat. Her eyes wide open. She observed she was in the car. The vehicle hummed as it traveled along the road and Piper couldn’t recall how she even got into the car in the first place.

“Alright,” Joel said as the car pulled off to the side of the road, coming to a stop. When the shift stick was in park, Joel turned to the back seat. “Ellie, switch with Piper.”

Shaking her head, Piper replied. “No, I’m fine, just–”

“In the back,” Joel said and Piper knew she couldn’t fight him on this. 

Unbuckling her seat belt, Piper reluctantly opened the passenger side door and crawled into the back. On the other hand, Ellie was esctatic to sit up in the front next to Joel. Jumping in her seat and getting a feel for the cushioned leather, Ellie beamed. 

“Wow, it’s so much nicer up here. I’m never sitting in the back again!” 

Just as Ellie was about to fiddle with the stereo, Joel shoved the map into her hands. 

“Here.” Joel pointed to the map. “We’re here and need to go here. Remember.”

Ellie’s eyes narrowed, following Joel’s thick finger as it danced across the map. “76 west and then… 70 west for, like, ever.”

“Yep. Now eyes on the map.”

Rolling her eyes, Ellie glanced back down at the map. Her small fingers ran along the path that Joel had shown her moments before. Each time she got to the end, the image in her mind only grew more potent until Ellie was confident she could recite the map from memory. However, there was only so much of “eye on the map” she could take and soon Ellie diverged her attention elsewhere. 

First, she experimented with the rearview mirror. It wasn’t something Joel particularly needed, so Ellie had free rein, so long as she didn’t annoy the old man. The small rectangular mirror, let her see the dusty road behind her. She ogled as the cloud of dust rippled out behind the truck clouding the green scenery behind her. Soon Ellie discovered that the mirror could move, tilting up and down and side to side. She tilted the mirror to look at Joel for a brief moment before she caught his glare. Quickly, she turned the mirror to herself. She extended her legs, leaned in close, and chuckled. Her face looked more stretched out than it normally did, and her eyes looked funky. 

Ellie could have looked at herself for god knows how long if it weren’t for the pothole the truck conveniently rolled over. Thumping down in her seat with a huff, Ellie found a new target in the rearview mirror. Piper was fast asleep. Her body limp as her head rested on the stacked up sleeping bags in the back seat. Ellie thought Piper looked weird sleeping. It seemed against her older sister’s nature to relax and be at peace. Afterall, Piper was always on guard with a battle happening deep in the pit of her eyes. Yet, the sight of her sister asleep in the back seat created a warm feeling in Ellie’s chest. Even if the sight of Piper in a dormant state was bizarre, Ellie knew it’s what her sister need. It’s what Piper deserved. 

“Where in Wyoming did you say your brother was?” Ellie found herself asking now that the mirror was back in place after Joel corrected the tilt. 

“Last contact came through a radio tower close to Cody,” Joel replied. 

Nodding Ellie peered down at the map scanning the tiny words and roads for Cody. “Cody, Cody. Ah, man. That is deep up in there.” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. 

“...And if he’s not there?”

“Then odds are he’ll be near a settlement, probably close to another city out there. Ain’t too many of ’em in Wyoming,” Joel explained. 

Soon, Ellie found herself finding the other cities in Wyoming. “Chee-Yen,” she read aloud. 

“Cheyenne,” Joel corrected. 

Ellie’s eyes widened at Joel’s correction. It couldn’t be right. “Che… really?”  Joel nodded. Ellie continued to look for cities. “Cheyenne… Laramie… Casper? What’s his name?”

“Whose name?” Joel wondered. 

“Your brother,” Ellie clarified. 

Joel breathed in deeply before answering the curious girl. “Tommy.”

“Younger or older?” Ellie curiously asked. 

“Younger.”

Peering back at Piper, Ellie asked yet another question. “Why isn’t he with you?” Afterall, her and her sister were always side by side. Never apart and always together. 

“A long story,’ Joel said hoping that it would satisfy Ellie. It did not. 

Ellie scanned the map once more. “Is it longer than 25 hours? ‘Cause I think that’s what we got.”  She peered up at Joel with the most convincing eyes she could conjure.

Joel could feel her expectant gaze on him. Biting his tongue, he continued to drive in silence until Ellie’s stare grew too much.  Finally, Joel “Tommy’s what we used to call a ‘joiner.’ Dreams of becomin’ a hero. So he enlisted in the Army right outta high school. A few months later, they ship him off to Desert Storm. It’s what they called that war. It doesn’t matter. Point is, bein’ in the Army didn’t make him feel much like a hero. Cut to 12 years later, outbreak happens. He convinces me to join a group makin’ their way up to Boston, which I did… mostly to keep an eye on him, keep him alive. It’s where we met Tess. And that whole crew, we, uh… Well, for what it was, it worked. And then Tommy meets Marlene. She talks him into joinin’ the Fireflies. Same mistake he made when he was 18. Wants to save the world. Pipe dream. Him, Fireflies, all of ’em… delusional. ‘Course, last I heard, he quit the Fireflies, too. So now he’s on his own out there, and… I gotta go get him.”

“If you don’t think there’s hope for the world, why bother going on?” Ellie asked. Joel glanced at her with his brows raised. “I mean, you gotta try, right?”

He shook his head. “You haven’t seen the world, so you don’t know. You keep goin’ for family. That’s about it.”

“I’m not family,” Ellie blurted.

“No…,” Joel paused to look at the young girl next to him. “You’re cargo. And I made a promise to Tess. And she was like family.” There was a flash of change in Ellie’s expression. “But you have Piper. Piper’s your family.”

“Yeah she is,” Ellie said with a dejected tone. “You know she reminds me of you.”

“How so?” Joel wondered as his eyes glanced into the mirror to catch sight of the sleeping teen. 

“You’re going for Tommy. Piper goes for me.” Ellie said. “What if you don’t find him?”

“I will.”

“How do you know?” There was a challenge in the young girls voice.

“I’m persistent,” Joel answered. 

Ellie smiled. “Yep, exactly like Piper.”

There was an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of Joel’s stomach at Ellie’s conclusion. It was to similar to the thought he buried deep in the back of his head. Piper was like Joel. It was something he didn’t want. Piper shouldn’t be like him. Joel was damaged, old, broken, and cruel with walls built as high as some of the skyscrapers that existed before the Outbreak. Piper was a teenage girl. She was still a kid. She shouldn’t be like him at all. 

“Ya got up pretty early,” Joel mentioned. “If you wanna grab more sleep like Piper…”

Ellie waved Joel off. “Pfft. I’m not even tired.”

“Sure,” Joel said trying to fight of a smirk. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

A quiet snore escaped the young girls mouth as she dozed off in the passenger seat. The smirk on Joel’s face finally won when Ellie had closed her heavy eyes. It was now peaceful in the car with the two girls sleeping. Their inhales and exhales were in tandem. Both of their faces were calm as the mid-day dreams over came them. 

Joel’s momentary peace and quiet was never meant to last. Soon, there was a stirring in the back seat and a head of dark brown hair sat up. Piper’s hair had frizzed up in her slumber and the young teen tried to soothe the mess with her hands before giving up. 

“How long I was out?” Piper asked as the sleep slowly left her voice. Her eyes scanned the scenes passing by the car windows. 

Turning his head back to face her, Joel replied, “A few hours.”

Piper nodded before carefully peering over the front seat to find her sister fast asleep. “How long has she been out?” 

“Not very long,” Joel said. 

“Hmm…,” Piper couldn’t help but softly smile at Ellie as she brushed some stray hairs from her sister’s face. “Where are we now?” Piper grabbed the map from Ellie’s hands. 

“Not far from Kanas City,” Joel explained. 

She scanned the map and her surroundings for any signs to signify where they were. It didn’t take long for the teen to estimate their spot along the highway. Joel was right. They weren’t far from Kanas City. “We should go around,” Piper whispered. 

Joel’s brows raised as his ears caught Piper’s words. “What do you mean?”

Piper solemnly glanced out the window. Her eyes darted back and forth as the sight flew by them. “Heard the QZ is horrible. Definitely not a place we want to be.” Once she had finished speaking, Piper had grown eerily quiet.  

Joel wanted to say something. To ask if she was okay, but his vocal chords refused to make a sound. Soon the shuffling of the girl in the passenger seat drew everyone’s attention.

Piper smiled. “Hey there sleepy head.”

Ellie’s eyes closed and opened as they adjust to the harsh light of the day. “Fuck you,” she groaned. Her response made Piper laugh, but her laugh was cut short by the slowing of the truck. 

The teen hadn’t been aware of how close they actually were to Kanas City. The road between all the cars and trucks was significantly more narrow than before. In front of them was an obvious barricade. They weren’t able to drive through this. Piper’s jaw clenched as she watched Joel unbuckle his seat. She wanted to tell him to drive back and go around the city. She was sure she saw a route they could take, but it was Joel’s voice that spoke instead. 

“Stay put,” Joel told the girls. 

Piper and Ellie watched the man look around the cars and underneath the larger trucks before he trekked back with a scowl on his face. 

Fuck, the girls thought. 

“Where are we?” Ellie asked as soon as Joel got back into the car. 

“Kansas City,” Joel grumbled. He motioned for the map and Piper placed it in his hands. 

“How far back do we have to go to get around this?” Ellie peered over Joel’s shoulder as worry spread across her face. 

Joel sighed looking at the map. They’d have to turn around and drive a few hours just to get around the barricade. To Joel, it wasn’t worth it. Tommy was waiting. Time was precious. “Screw it.” Without another word, Joel pulled away from the barricade and drove the car onto the exit ramp. The road led straight to Kanas City. 

Panic filled Piper’s being. “What are you doing?!” She yelled at Joel, “No, no, Joel. Away from the city. I’ve heard some things back in Boston QZ, we don’t–”

He knew the fear in Piper’s expression well, but a teenager’s fears weren’t going to add more time onto their trip than needed. “We can jog right around this tunnel… take the next ramp… and we’re back on the road. Minute tops,” he hurriedly explained to calm the girl. 

Piper glared at Joel as she bit her lip. Tears began to well up in her eyes from the pain. The disturbing turning in her gut only got worse as they drove deeper and deeper into the city and the only comfort she could find was gripping the handle of her gun. 

“Where the fuck is the highway?!” Joel fumed. His eye frantically over the map and then the road in front of him. 

Ellie did her best to help. “I can’t tell from this. I’m all turned around!” 

“Don’t look at the state map, Ellie. Look at the inset.” Piper was on the verge of snapping. “That there!”

The younger girl’s voice began to break. “Well, I don’t know where we are in that either! This is my second day in a fucking car. I mean, I think we’re heading north?”

“It’s gotta be the right,” Joel muttered, before swerving the car to the right. 

The car jolted everyone as Joel tried find a way out of the labyrinth like city. 

“Stop!” Ellie hollered. 

The car came to a halt. Tires screeched and Piper barely had time to brace herself on Ellie’s seat. “What the fuck?” She asked her sister. Ellie just stared at pointed out the window. 

“Is that the QZ?” Ellie asked. Everyone was now looking at the burned down gate. Smoke was still in the air. “Where the fuck is FEDRA?”

Piper wanted to spew. “Joel–” 

“Hey! Please help!” The voice came from outside the car. It was a man. His right leg hung limp behind him and his arms waved in the air. 

Her eyes widened and, using her free hand, she grabbed Joel’s shoulder with a painful grip. “Joel, we need to get the fuck out of here!”

Joel’s eyes darkened. “Put your seatbelt on,” he said with a low voice. 

Ellie searched his eyes. “Aren’t we gonna help him?”

“No,” Piper and Joel said simultaneously. 

There was a click. Then a stomp. Soon the car jumped forward as Joel pressed his foot down on the gas. The truck was headed straight for the man. 

“Joel! Reverse!” Piper screamed.

“Fuck!” the man yelled as he jumped out of the way. “Go, go, go!”

In an instance, there was a deafening thud. The car slid. Joel turned the wheel to a nearby building’s glass doors. Gun shots fired. Their heads ducked down as they braced for impact. With a crash, the car came to a halt. 

“Fuck,” Joel groaned. He turned to Ellie. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Ellie wheezed. 

Quickly, he turned to Piper. “You’re not hurt? Nothin’?”

Piper shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Their momentary relief was destroyed by bullets firing. They had hit the truck’s windows. 

“Belts off. Fast!” Joel shouted. 

The girls did not waste time unbuckling the seat belts and opening the doors of the truck. 

“Let’s see you, motherfucker! Give us your shit, you make it through this! I promise!” One of the raiders yelled. 

Once all of them had left the truck and found brief cover, Joel looked around the room. “Hey, you see that hole?” He pointed to a small hole in the drywall. “Can you two squeeze through?”

Ellie and Piper followed Joel’s hand. With one scan of the hole, they knew they could fit. 

“Last chance!” the raider snarled. 

“When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through, and you don’t come out until I say, okay?” Joel instructed the teens. 

Ellie nodded her head. The shock evident in her eyes. 

Piper shook hers. “No, let me help.” She raised her gun up for Joel to see. 

Joel growled and his jaw clenched. “This is not a negotiation. You’re going.”

A gun shot echoed around the room. They seemed to be getting louder and louder with each fire. Ellie felt her legs go limp and a cold sweat over come her body. 

“they’re not gonna hit you. Look at me!” Joel told Ellie, “They’re not gonna hit you.”

Bang!

“You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet,” Joel explained and Ellie absently nodded her head. 

“I’ve got you Els,” Piper whispered to her sister. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed back with tears in her eyes. 

“Okay,” Piper said before turning to Joel and nodding. 

“Okay,” Joel commanded. “Go!”

Immediately, Piper shot off the ground and grabbed Ellie’s jacket collar dragging her along. They stayed low to the ground until they reached the hole. “Come on, go!” Piper yelled before shoving Ellie through the hole.

Bang! 

Piper cried out in pain as she examined her shoulder. She was shot. The bullet had grazed her arm. “Fuck!” She cried before crawling through the hole. 

Another shot was fired. 

“Fuck! You motherfucker!” One of the raiders screamed. 

There was another shot and Piper could hear the sounds of guns falter. Joel was doing it. He was taking them out one by one. 

Crunch. 

Glass had been broken and there was heavy breathing. It was breathing that did not belong to the old man. A shadow covered the hole. Ellie’s eyes widened and Piper pulled her back against the wall. 

There was a grunt. “Now you’re gonna fuckin’ pay! What you fuckin’ did, you fuckin’ killed yourself, motherfucker!” A raider yelled. The girls could hear the voice so clearly. 

Bang.  

Something had run into the wall. Piper flinched and Ellie was no longer by her side. Turning her head, she saw her sister at the hole. Her gun in hand. 

“Ellie, no,” Piper pleaded as Joel struggle with the raider. 

Ignoring her sister, Ellie crawled through the wall. 

“Fuck,” Piper groaned before following her sister out the hole. 

The sight in front of her was pure chaos. Joel had his head tilted back with a long rifle underneath his chin. Behind him stood a raider. Piper didn’t care to note the specifics about him except for the fact he was choking Joel. It wouldn’t have been long before Joel would lay unconscious on the floor of the abandoned laundromat. 

A clear shot rang through the air. The raider fell to his knees. The rifle choking Joel was gone. Ellie had shot the man. Her shoulders were stiff and her eyes were cold. Her skin was paler than white as the gun followed the man as he dragged himself across the floor. 

The demeanor in the raider had flipped. Tears screamed down his eyes as the violence in his voice fled. It was replaced by terror as he pleaded with Ellie. 

“No, no, no, no, no! It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s over. We’re not fighting anymore. I’m gonna go home. I’ll tell everyone you’re good,” his voice broke as a cry escaped his lips. “I don’t know what to do. My legs don’t work. My mom isn’t far, if you could get me to her. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn’t know.” Ellie stood unwavering. “I’m Bryan. I’m Bryan. What’s your name?” Bryan whimpered. 

Joel stepped forward. “Wait, wait, wait!” Bryan pleaded, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. “You can have it… It’s a good knife.” He tossed the knife to Ellie. It fell to the ground beside her feet. 

“Get back behind the wall,” Joel muttered to Ellie. He was still out of breath. His hand came to her shoulder, breaking her from her trance. Lowering the gun, Ellie turned her back to Bryan and crawled back through the wall. “Kid,” Joel said to Piper. 

“I’m not a kid,” Piper whispered. With Ellie’s gun was quickly replaced by Piper’s. Joel’s eyes widened. 

Bryan’s cried got louder. It annoyed Piper. Someone who moments before seemed to strong, now was at her feet begging for mercy. Something she didn’t have. Not anymore. “No, no, no, no! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, please. We could just talk. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, please. No, no, no! Please! No, please! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! You don’t have to! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please! No, no, no! We can just talk! Mom! Mom! Mom!” 

Piper’s heart clenched at Bryan’s call for his mother. It was a brief moment, before her finger squeezed. A shot thundered around the room. Then there was silence and a small hole in the forehead of what used to be Bryan. Piper wanted to revel in it, but instead she felt sick. Swallowing down the rising bile, she lowered her gun. In the silence, adjusted the straps of her backpack and moved to the hole in the wall. 

“Let’s go,” she mumbled. 

“I can’t fit through,” Joel said. 

Piper sighed and grabbed her shoulder massaging the pain. “There’s a door to the next room just around the corner.”

Joel nodded as he shuffled around to the door before turning the knob. The door didn’t open. It wasn’t locked, but it just didn’t open. 

“There’s some stuff against the door,” Ellie voiced. 

“Well, can you move it?” Joel asked. 

“Uh…yeah.”

It didn’t take long for Joel to hear scrapping and shuffling behind the door. Soon the blockage was free and the door swung open. Joel stepped inside and closed the door behind him and darkness flooded the room. 

“You okay?” Joel asked to either girl.

Piper didn’t answer. Ellie did. “I’m okay… I’m good. I, uh, got some food in here still, and I got your light still.” Ellie handed Joel the light. “What now?”

“We go up,” Joel answered. 

Ellie looked up at Joel. “To get a better look?”

Joel nodded. “Hopefully, we spot a clear route out.” Leaning back, Joel peered out the door, briefly shutting it. His eyes flitted between the girls. 

“Ready?” He asked. 

Ellie nodded. The two of them turned to Piper. The elder teen gripped her gun close and raised her head up an down. 

Light spilled into the room. The bright light momentarily blinded the three of them as they rushed outside. Their bodies crouched down low as they ran. One fact rang clear in their minds. They had to get far away from here. Some place safe, although it seemed as if they’d never be safe again.

꧁_____________꧂ 

“You fingers go here and then…Piper are you listening to me?” Levi asked with a knowing smile on his face. 

“Huh? Oh yeah. Totally,” Piper chirped back. 

“Right. How was I telling you to hold the gun?” Levi knew Piper’s reaction before the guilt on her face could manifest. 

“Like…this?” Piper fiddled with the gun in her hand and Levi shook his head. 

“No. Here,” Levi said as he reached over to fix Piper’s grip on the gun. Fingers go here and use both hands.”

“But that’s not how–,” Piper muttered. 

“I know that’s how you were taught by FEDRA. It’s wrong. Now listen to me sweetheart,” Levi continued on with his demonstration. “...Soon enough you’ll be able to shoot.” 

After some adjustments, Piper finally mastered her grip on the gun. Levi beamed. “See, now. I want you to try your hand at shooting. Don’t be afraid to miss.” 

Piper huffed and moved her feet to a better stance, the very one she saw Levi take when he used his gun. Her small eyes narrowed to the targets on the other end of the room. They were old beer bottles, but viable targets nonetheless. Taking a slow breath in, Piper pulled her finger back, trigger the gun to fire. She missed. 

“Fuck,” Piper hissed. 

Levi chuckled. “Hey, what did I say? You can miss. You’re safe here. You miss here so that when your shot counts, you don’t miss. Got it?”

The young girl nodded before turning to look back at the targets. Piper puffed her cheeks with disappointment. She wanted to hit the target. She wanted to never miss again. She wouldn’t make a shot that night. She wouldn’t make a shot until it counted. Yet, time and time again, she heard Levi’s voice saying, “Try again,” and she’d get back up to fire once more. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Refuge was found in a broken down bar. The windows were sealed with old newspapers. To pass the time, Ellie tried to read the clippings. Some were stories about dead people. Boring. Then there were some stories about what the local school board was doing. Also boring. As she jumped from story to story, Ellie concluded that the news was boring. Instead she took to peeking out the window in the cracks where the news didn’t cover. 

“They’re not FEDRA, and they’re not Fireflies, so who are they?” Ellie asked. She peered up at Joel who was also looking out the window. 

“People,” Joel grumbled. 

Ellie nodded and drew her knees in close. Her tiny body crumpled together on the wooden floor. “Are we okay in here?” Ellie’s voice was small. 

Joel’s ear’s perked at the sound of uncertainty in Ellie’s voice. He withdrew from the window and sat down on an abandoned chair. “For a little bit, maybe. Looks like they’re checkin’ out apartment buildings first. But they’ll be coming through these places soon enough.”

There was a sigh from the corner of the room. Piper’s head fell back against the wall. “There’s a really tall building, like, four blocks away,” she noted. Her long dark hair fell to the side as her eyes cast down. She had lost her hair tie a while back during the chaos of running from building to building. 

"Yeah. Saw it,” Joel said. 

Ellie sat up and peeked out the window once more. Her brown eyes darted around until they landed on the building, she believed Joel and Piper were discussing. “So that’s the one?” She pointed to the building. 

“As soon as we don’t hear a truck, we move,” Joel instructed. “Fast as we can.” There was a loud hum as an armoured truck drove by and Ellie ducked down. The group froze as they listened. Their shoulders were tensed and backs stiff. 

The rumbling of the trucks dispersed and a laboured groan escaped Piper’s mouth. 

“Are you okay?” Joel asked. He was now standing up and moving towards the young teen. 

Piper made a noise that was a mix of a scoff and a snicker. “I’m not the one you should be asking.”

Joel groaned at Piper’s stubbornness. “You were shot, weren’t you?”

“No.” Piper shook her head. 

“I saw you got s–,” Joel rebutted. 

“The bullet grazed me!” Piper heaved. “It’s not the end of the fucking world. I’m fine.” She squeezed her arm in hopes to divert the pain. “Ellie, how are you doing?” Piper tensely asked. 

“I’m alright,” Ellie replied. “Joel?”

Roughly running his hands through his peppered hair, Joel answered Ellie. “Yeah.” Taking a few more steps closer to Piper, Joel crouched down. His body only a few feet away from the girl. “Thing is, is I didn’t hear that guy comin’, and… you shouldn’t have had to… both of you shouldn’t have had to…you know?”

“Well, you’re glad we did,” Piper concluded. 

Joel shook his head. He was glad to be alive, but not at the expense of child. “You’re just a kid,” Joel pinched his nose. “You shouldn’t know what it means to… But… shootin’ or… I know what it’s like… first time that you, uh, hurt… someone like that. If you, uh… w… uh…I’m not good at this,” Joel confessed. 

“Yeah, you really aren’t,” Ellie commented. 

“I mean, it was my fault,” Joel apologized. You shouldn’t have had to. And I’m sorry.”

Those two words echoed in Piper’s head. They were such simple and unthreatening words, yet their delivery broke down her walls. I’m sorry. Piper gulped and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. I’m sorry. A new ache formed in her body at the sound of the words and the pain from her shoulder only dulled in comparison to the pain of her heart. I’m sorry. Instantly, her vision grew blurry, and against her will, a few tears escaped and trailed down her dirtied cheeks. 

“It wasn’t my first time,” Piper sniffled . She looked up forcing the tears away. 

“Right. Show me your grip,” Joel looked at Piper and never for a moment did he dwell on her tears. Piper was grateful for that as she pulled out her gun and showed Joel her grip. He took a step closer to check. “Good.” Then Joel turned to Ellie asking her to do the same. “Finger off the trigger. Now, who taught you that?” Joel asked Ellie. 

“FEDRA school,” Ellie mumbled. 

“Figures. Your thumb…over your thumb. Left hand… squeezes down on the right. You got it?”  Ellie nodded. Suddenly, Joel’s hand reached out and tried to yank away Ellie’s gun. Her grip stayed unwavering. “There ya go. Look,” Joel noted. 

Piper smiled as Ellie’s grin grew from Joel’s praise. 

“How come you didn’t check Piper’s grip?” Ellie asked Joel. 

Piper chirped up before Joel could reply. “FEDRA didn’t teach me to shoot,” She said and all elements of a smile has vanished. 

Joel looked back at Piper before standing up. The joints in his knees and hips were displeased at this sudden movement. His movement created a wave of action from the other girls. Piper stood up and Ellie placed her gun in her hand. 

Tapping Ellie on the shoulder, Joel shook his head. “Uh-uh. You’ll shoot your damn ass off.”

Piper snickered. “Be fucking hilarious.” 

Ellie whipped her head around to face her sister. “You fucker.” 

“Hurry it up, girls,” Joel grumbled as he retrieved his things. The girls quit their bickering to do just as Joel had. 

Soon enough, the three of them were standing at the door. They shared a cautious breath as they awaited Joel’s cue. 

“We’ll get through this,” Joel found himself saying. His eyes flashed with worry as he glanced at the weary expressions on the girl’s faces. 

Ellie shrugged her backpack and looked up at Joel. “We know.” 

For a moment, they waited. All their ears tunned into the sounds of the world outside the degenerating bar. With bated breathes they stood. Ellie gripped the straps of her bag tightly finding comfort in the constriction. Piper stood low behind Joel. The pain in her arm was now blaring at her. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside. All Piper had to do was wait it out. Soon they’d be safe. Soon they’d be out of this god forsaken city. 

“Go,” Joel commanded. The door shut behind them and a bar was left empty once more. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Joel was old. It was a fact that he knew quite well. It seemed to be Joel’s downfall that he was old in a world that favored the young. Especially when it came to survival. Except now, Joel had youth on his side, except this youth seemed…well, partially incompetent. 

“You’re just gonna put your foot here,” Joel explained. “One, two…” With all his strength he raised Ellie into the air. The young girl’s arms flailed around trying to find stability. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Ellie cursed. 

Piper couldn’t contained her laughter as she watched Joel and Ellie struggle. 

Joel huffed and rolled his eyes at Piper’s reaction. “You could always help.”

“Nah, you’ve got it,” Piper replied. 

Ellie cried out as Joel’s muscles struggled to keep her up. “Straighten up. I got you,” Joel said. 

It took a moment, but then Ellie followed Joel’s advice. Her hands reached the opening and her fingers scrounged around for a grip. It didn’t take long for the weight on Joel’s shoulders and arms to lessen. 

“Okay, I’m in.” Ellie’s voice echoed around the opening. 

“Take a look around first. Ellie.” Joel instructed. There was silence from the other side. “God damn it,” Joel muttered. 

“Hey, that's my sister,” Piper reprimanded the old man. 

As if on cue, a nearby steel door swung open and Ellie’s head appeared. “Where would you be without me, huh?” Ellie smiled. 

“By now, Wyoming,” Joel responded as he walked passed Ellie into the building. 

Ellie’s shoulder’s dropped. “Oh, yeah. Walked into that one.”

Once they were all in the stairwell, Joel at the two girls. “All right. We’ll make our way up, and come morning, I’ll take a look at the city, and find our way out.”

A large white sign flared in the dark of the stairwell, illuminated by the flashlights of the group. Ellie groaned upon reading the mixture of numbers and words on the metallic surface. “We’re goin’ up 42 flights?”

“Forty-five,” Joel corrected and then shook his head. “But no… not all the way.”

Piper slumped against the concrete wall with a bang. The contents of her backpack were squished between her and the unmoving force of the wall. “Jesus. How far?”

The man’s brow furrowed with thought as he calculated an answer for the girls. “As far as I can make it.” 

And so their ascent up the stairs began. Their footsteps clambered along the thick walls echoing to and fro. The stair case had a supreme level of acoustics. It was a fact acknowledged by all three of them, especially Ellie. By floor ten, the young girl’s thigh muscles contracted and with each step the burning sensation only grew stronger. In her mind she prayed Joel could only take so many more. Afterall, he was old. However, Ellie realized she had misjudged Joel’s determination and strength by floor seventeen. Her body was heating up and sweat oozed out of her skin. She was suffering, and it seemed like no one else was. Piper stood stoically as she climbed each step. The only hint of their physical stress was a slight shade of pink that tinted her cheeks. On the other hand, Joel’s brow shimmered under the light of his flashlight. He was sweating. He was feeling the effects of their activities. He was suffering, but not enough. 

“What did the policeman say to his belly button?” Ellie asked with a devious smile as she watched Joel’s shoulder’s slump with defeat. 

Piper snorted before rolling her eyes at Ellie. “I don’t know…um…hi?”

“Nope,” Ellie bit her lip trying to contain her laughter. “You’re under a vest!” 

“Jesus,” Joel mumbled and Piper wasn’t sure if it was a prayer or a curse. 

The stairs now echoed a new sound, Ellie’s giggles. “Okay, okay. Next one.” She cleared her throat. “What’s the difference between a well-dressed person on a unicycle and a poorly dressed person on a bike?” Dark brown eyes darted to Piper and Joel for any hint of an answer. “No one? Okay,” and throwing on her best posh accent, Ellie drove the punch line home. “Attire.”

Again, the young girl was thrown into a fit of giggles as Joel grumbled to himself occasionally sending her a warning glare when he broke free from his elderly annoyance of the youth present. 

With each joke Ellie delivered, the laboured and steadfast demeanor Piper held up slowly chipped away. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact her body no longer had the will to fight against the abominable two-liner jokes, or if it was the sight of Ellie at such ease and joy from tormenting her and Joel. Although, Piper had to admit seeing Joel at such loose level of discomfort was quite funny. It was moments like these she had to remember when Joel would eventually discard her and Ellie just like everyone else. 

“Ooo! This one. Okay,” Ellie cleared her throat. “What did the fisherman say to the magician?” She paused waiting for the internal drum roll to conclude. “Pick a cod, any cod.” 

Piper sinched her lips together to contain the outburst waiting to pop. She was so focused on not laughing that she almost ran into Joel. The man had stilled and with his hands on his hips he glowered down at the girls with an unknown look in his gaze. 

“No more jokes,” Joel said. 

“Okay, just trying to lighten the mood,” Ellie mumbled as she shoved her joke book into her back pocket. 

Upon seeing the book placed away, Joel collected his breath and the marched up the stairs continued. 

They had passed four more floors when Ellie spoke again. “Hey, you know that guy who said he was hurt?” She waited for Joel’s acknowledgement. “How did you know it was an ambush?”

Joel’s chest rose pushing his shoulder close to his ears. “I’ve been on both sides.” He glanced back at caught Piper’s knowing stare. “It was a long time ago. We did what we needed to survive.”

“You and Tess?” Ellie asked. It was strange to think of Joel and Tess like the man who attacked them. They were protectors and that’s all Ellie had known them to be. She didn’t think she could imagine Tess hurting anyone. Joel on the other hand, she could see it…sort of. 

“And the people we were with,” Joel explained. “My brother, too.”

Ellie took in a shaking breath, which she blamed on the physical exertion. “Did you kill innocent people?” Her voice faltered. 

Joel was silent. 

“Ellie,” Piper interjected. “Save your breath for the stairs.”

Joel’s jaw unclenched at Piper’s words. He was grateful for her interruption. He knew the answer and it was not an answer he wanted to tell Ellie. In a world full of death and decay around everyone corner, sometimes all you could do was kill. So, yes. Yes, Joel had killed innocents. Back then he wasn’t ashamed. He did it to survive. He had to. Now…now Joel just wanted to lie. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

The stairwell door slammed open and Ellie toppled inside. Her knees hit the carpeted floor as breath hit her lungs like a tidal wave. “Holy shit,” she tiredly said. 

Piper plopped down next to her throwing her head between her knees. “Yeah,” she agreed. 

“Thirty-three floors ,” Ellie barely voiced. “That’s good.”

“It’s gonna have to be,” Joel panted. He placed his coarse hand on the wall for stability. Everything burned: his lungs, his calves, his thighs, hell, even muscles he didn’t know existed burned in a frenzy. 

Pushing herself off the floor, Piper crawled to a standing position. “Come on,” she huffed. 

Ellie shuffled around before reaching her hand out to Piper. Together the two of them got Ellie to a stand. 

Joel looked at the two girls with a puzzled expression. The power of the recovery in the youth astounded him. “Gimme a minute,” Joel begged. 

Ellie chuckled. “Get up, you lazy ass.”

“Lazy ass,” Joel grunted as he stood up. “Fifty-six years old, you little shit.”

Piper and Ellie laughed at his response as they watched Joel waddle down the maze of hallways on the floor before entering a large office. The office was in a pristine condition considering the start of the apocalypse two decades prior. The carpet was free of dirt and Piper could still see the design within the fabric. Ellie was in awe at the fluffiness of the couch cushions in the seating area. They were a little stiff but practically new. She smiled to herself as she laid a few of the cushions out on the floor for the three of them. 

“Better than any bed I’ve ever slept–Joel?” Ellie turned her attention to Joel who had just shattered the glass door. “Joel.” He didn’t respond. Ellie looked at Piper with a worried shine in her eyes. “Joel!” Ellie yelled. 

The man in question turned around with a quizzical look. “What?”

“What are you doing?” She pointed to the glass now on the floor. Not the best sleeping conditions, if she was saying anything. 

Joel furrowed his brow as if his actions are obvious. Piper sighed and dropped her bag onto the floor before laying down next to Ellie. “He doesn’t want someone sneakin’ up on us while we’re sleeping.”

“Ohh, I get it. Crunch, crunch, crunch,” Ellie animately said. Her hands marched around in the air like feet ‘smashing’ the shattered glass. “Are you sure you’re gonna hear it?” The young girl asked Joel. 

“Of course, I’ll hear it,” Joel said. “That’s the damn point.” He glanced down at the ground. The glass was evenly spread out. It’d be difficult to not step on the makeshift alarm. Satisfied, he shuffled over to the girls and sat down on the open cushion next to Piper. 

“If he doesn’t,” Piper added, “I will.”

“Okay. Well, good night,” Ellie said. She snuggled into the couch cushions and drew her jacket tightly around her body. 

“Yeah, good night,” Joel whispered back as he laid down settling in for the night. 

“Night,” Piper mumbled. 

A darkened shade of blue encased the room. Everything was a different shade and Piper could make out each of the objects in the room. The desk was a darker blue than the chair behind it. The ceiling was a light blue, and the young girl was sure she could hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, even though they were turned off. Shifting around on the cushion, Piper let out a disappointed sigh. Sleep evaded her. 

“Hey,” Joel spoke. 

“Yeah?” Piper hesitantly responded. Behind her, a small snore escaped Ellie’s mouth. Piper could hear Joel let out a heavy breath. 

“When we were talkin’ about hurtin’ people…,” Joel paused. “What did you mean it wasn’t your first time?”

Piper rolled around onto her side. Her eyes glued to Joel’s back. “…I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“All right,” Joel quietly said.  “…You don’t have to. I’m just sayin’… it isn’t fair, your age… havin’ to deal with all of this…”

Piper’s nose scrunched up and a line between her brows formed. “There’s a lot I’ve had to deal with…” Tears built up in the corner of her eyes. Piper wasn’t going to cry. She didn’t want to cry, but why was it so easy to cry at night? “The first time I…I was twelve…does it gets easier when you get older?” Piper sniffled. 

“No, not really.” Joel rolled over and found lips pulling into a tight line. Piper was crying. The dark hid her tears well, but Joel was a father. He knew when a child was crying. “But still.”

Piper gulped and took in a shaky breath. She wasn’t crying. She refused to cry, but it was a lie. She knew and she knew Joel knew. Yet, there was an ease that filled her being as she cried on the floor of that office with Joel laying across from her. Even as war and torment surged outside, as people searched for them, Piper felt safe. She was safe under the shadow of Joel’s figure. Piper was safe, so she could cry. 

“The reason Ellie asked whether you’d hear the glass or not is ’cause both of us have noticed you don’t hear too well from your right side… Is it ’cause you were shot there?” Piper pondered once her tears had subsided. 

“Probably more from shootin’,” Joel honestly replied. “So if you wanna keep your hearin’, you stick to that knife.”

Piper chuckled and a small smile crept onto her face. “Too late.” Piper asked, “Joel?” 

“Hm?” Joel raised his brow. 

“Did you know diarrhea is hereditary?” Piper smirked. 

“What?” Joel’s head turned to look over his shoulder. Utter confusion was placed on his face at Piper’s words. 

“Yeah,” Piper whispered. “It runs in your jeans.” Then she laughed. It was a quiet laugh given the circumstances, but a laugh nonetheless. 

Joel rolled back over. “Jesus,” he said before laughing along. “That is so goddamn stupid.” He shook his head at himself for laughing at the joke, yet he couldn’t stop. He laughed and then Piper laughed. He feared it be an on going cycle that would awaken Ellie. 

“You laughed, motherfucker,” Piper noted. “Just wait till I tell Ellie.”

“I didn’t laugh,” Joel gruffly said. There was still a hint of laughter in his face. 

“Yes, you did,” Piper said. She wouldn’t let him deny it. 

“Jesus, I’m losin’ it,” Joel smiled. His face felt funny and alien as the smile stretched across his features. His cheeks hurt and his eyes crinkled in a way that they hadn’t in years. Piper had made Joel smile. 

“You’re losin’ it big time,” Piper giggled and Joel laughed once more. 

“Go to sleep,” Joel gently said. 

Piper fondly smiled. “You too, Joel. You too.” 

꧁_____________꧂ 

Sleep found Joel quickly that night. It must have been the thirty-three floors of stairs, the fight for his life, and driving consistently for days that finally brought him some rest. His mind was blank. He didn’t dream and didn’t think of Sarah, of Tess, or of Tommy. He felt at ease. Soon the pleasantry of slumber escaped him. The room was lighter and faded color crept into his view. 

“Joel?” A muffled voice was calling out to him. It sounded worried. It sounded scared. Joel’s eyes widened. “Joel!”

He grunted as he lifted his head. There was Ellie and Piper. Ellie was looking down at him. Her dark eyes reflected the fear and confusion in Joel’s. Piper sat with her jaw clenched. Her shoulder were held back and an inferno was a lit in her eyes. The thing that scared Joel the most was where Piper was looking. She wasn’t looking at him. No, Piper was glaring down the barrel of a gun. 

Something cold touched the back of Joel’s head. He whipped around. There in front of him was a child with paint around his eyes. In his hand was a gun. 

Well, fuck. 

꧁_____________꧂ 

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꧁_____________꧂

[baejax-the-great]

Hello! No pressure but do you think you will update Overboard at some point? I love that fic so much, Alistair/Bethany is one of my favourite pairings and you write them so well!!

Thank you for asking!

I actually spent some time wandering Rivain in Veilguard getting the gears turning. I also made a Bethany Rook I don't seem to have the most recent version of the fic available to me at this moment (🙄), but here's a snippet that probably won't change much:

“I think this is the best we’ll find,” Bethany said.

They stood at the entrance of a rotting pile of bones that might have once made up a house. Fisherman’s shack, by the look of all the netting scattered about. There was more hole than roof. One patch of the dirt floor was covered in soot—the kitchen, he supposed—and another held a pile of wood shards that at some point might have been a cot. They were going to have to make do with the ground and whatever constituted that moldy pile of fabric over there if they stayed.

“You can change your mind,” she said. “You don’t have to go through with this.”

The lyrium headache had already been plaguing him for two days, and Alistair wasn’t certain how much longer he could keep walking. He’d never pushed it this hard before. This… shack, if he could call it that, would shelter them. At least there was water.

Bethany was looking up at him with nervous eyes pretty enough to soothe his tender head. Sort of. Well, no, not really, it throbbed, persistently, but at least he had a nice view through it. And he had no intention of going back and losing her now.

He swallowed. “I’ve chosen my path. Nothing could be as bad as…” He stilled his tongue. There was no saying Bethany would see this through to the end. She’d never seen someone in lyrium withdrawal. He wouldn’t blame her for leaving once the hallucinations took hold.

Bethany stepped further into the shack. “You should have seen the hovel we lived in back in Kirkwall,” she said. “I didn’t think anything could make me long to return to the gates. Stepped one foot through the door and almost turned around.”

“So, it had doors then, because this place—”

Bethany shushed him, and Alistair dropped his arm from gesturing at the hole they had walked in through. “It smelled. And it was dark and dank, and miserable, and I couldn’t stop thinking of our little cottage in Lothering being overrun by monsters while we had to live here. But my sister smiled, which she always did even when she shouldn’t have, and she put an arm around my shoulder and told me that she didn’t see a heap of trash in the corner or my uncle’s dirty socks or the soot-stained ceiling. All she saw was survival and opportunity.”

Alistair kicked at the charred remains of… something. Trash, check. Soot and dirt, check. No socks as of yet, but there might some hiding under the debris. Fish bones, too, probably. “So, this place looks like survival to you?” he asked, unable to keep the pessimism out of his voice.

“No.” Bethany took his hand. “It looks like freedom.”

Alistair closed his eyes. It sounded so nice when she said it. “It won’t be easy.”

She caught his jaw with her hand, cradled his cheek. He felt the tiniest bit of healing magic under his skin as she said, “I know. But it’s ours.”

He leaned into her hand, and the way she said it, he almost believed her.

[protoaxol]

Still Wakes the Deep: Infected by Shrooms

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Major Character Death

Category

Gen

Fandom

Still Wakes the Deep (Video Game)

Relationships:

Ewan Muir & Terry Innes

Brodie & Raffs

Boyd & Mclurg

Characters:

Brodie (Still Wakes the Deep)

Raffs (Still Wakes the Deep)

Gibbo (Still Wakes the Deep)

I. "Trots" Campbell

Boyd (Still Wakes the Deep)

Mclurg (Still Wakes the Deep)

Alex (Still Wakes the Deep)

Muir (Still Wakes the Deep)

Innes (Still Wakes the Deep)

Roper (Still Wakes the Deep)

O'Connor (Still Wakes the Deep)

Finlay (Still Wakes the Deep)

Davey Rennick

Archie (Still Wakes the Deep)

Addair (Still Wakes the Deep)

Additional Tags:

Hurt No Comfort

Body Horror

Vomiting

Infection

Hallucinations

American writing Scottish Accents

Loss of Control

Drugs

Language: English | Words: 2336

Summary:

The thoughts of all the infected little men throughout the story from start to end blah blah blah

Notes:

I didn't cry writing this This one was much more silly than chapter one enjoy

This is a parody of @silebee-draws's "Joining the Choir." Please go check that out if you haven't already, its really great.

Chapter 2: Gibbo

When the shape had burst through the ceiling of Engineering Operations and caught Murray, Gibbo felt bad for being glad that he wasn't the one who had been caught and turned into a moldy, mushroom-ridden pile of flesh and fungi. 

Murray had been struck to the ground and held down. His screaming was muffled by a thick layer of mushrooms growing out of his mouth and throat. His arms and legs thrashed around violently, trying to rip off the fleshy biomass and fungus. Only issue was that it had grown into his skin and melded into his flesh, and used his body for energy and nutrients to keep growing. It was so beautiful, so pretty, and yet so terrifying. However, he ran out of luck when one of Murray’s flailing limbs hit a clump of mushrooms, and Gibbo knew he was done for. 

The mushrooms exploded and a thick cloud of spores engulfed the entire room. Gibbo had just enough time to react to close his eyes and hold his breath. He felt the fuzzy spores cover his entire body, getting all over his clothes and burning on his skin. He couldn’t breathe no matter what. He just had to find a way out of here, and quickly. His head was pounding. He was disoriented, and couldn’t find where the door was. He stuck his hand out in front of him and hoped for the best. He stumbled over debris, and holding his breath was growing increasingly difficult. Then Gibbo tripped over one of Murray’s legs, and landed face first on the ground.

He gasped, filling his lungs with air. His throat burned and his lungs felt like they were on fire. Colorful shapes and visions of his loved ones flashed in his vision. He fell to the floor, writhing, squirming, screaming in pain. The entire Beira shook once again, and Gibbo let out a loud, painful roar that echoed throughout engineering. 

His whole body was on fire. The spores dug into his skin and melded with his flesh, growing into moldy pustules, from which even more mushrooms grew. He couldn’t see anything, and he just wanted to get out. He tried to stand up but fell onto a desk, knocking it over and throwing everything on it onto the floor. 

Gibbo felt sick, and boked all over himself. Then he watched in horror as the goopy mass began growing mold and fungi. 

In all of the chaos, he was able to hear a voice from outside of the operations room. It sounded like Finlay. No, no good will come of her! He remembered seeing what had happened in the derrick, the contorted and twisted bodies of the drill crew as the drill was covered in a thick, disgusting mass of flesh and mold. Finlay started banging on the door, attempting to open it. Images of dead crewmates and Murray flashed through his mind. He felt corrupted, but it also felt good in a way.

“Gibbo? What’s going on in there, open the door!”

Gibbo couldn’t even form words to respond to her. All he could do was make animalistic noises as he lunged towards the door.  He flew into the door and it shattered like glass. Splinters got under his skin and in his flesh. He heard her exclaim in surprise as he chased her. He couldn’t see anything, but it felt like his body knew exactly where she was and where to go. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Gibbo roared, swiping at her with his claws.

“Gibbo! What the fuck!? What the fuck’s wrong with ye!?”

“DON’T LOOK AT ME!! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!! 

Finlay went around the corner and slipped into another room, barricading the door. He didn’t even know what he was trying to accomplish there, he just wanted her out of there. He felt so powerful.. So strong.. 

His head snapped in the other direction, and his whole body turned to go that way. He ran recklessly through the halls, knocking things over and running into things. All he could do was cry and scream as each part of his body started feeling less and less human. Gibbo’s hands felt like sponges, but they stuck to everything they touched. He realized he could reach long distances, grab onto anything he wanted.. He didn’t even need his legs anymore. 

Gibbo felt like he could go anywhere and do anything he wanted. It almost felt euphoric. He found himself back in Engineering Operations. What remained of Murray had stopped moving. Murray was gone. He could hear voices, only now he could make them out clearly. These ones were real, unlike the others. Finlay and Caz. Great, now there was another eejit down here, why couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone!

In anger, he began to destroy everything in the room. He threw a desk and shattered the window. He knocked over a filing cabinet and tore into the control panel. His vision cleared up just enough to see a flashlight moving around in the dark, as well as approaching footsteps. He had to get the fuck out of there. Thinking quickly, he noticed a hole in the ceiling. His tendrils latched onto the panels and he pulled himself up just in time. 

“Mum.. Please.. Mum!! AAGGHH! It hurts! Make it stoppp!!!” 

Her voice echoed through his mind, and he saw visions of her face through the oily bubbles in his vision. What was real anymore? He saw dark hallways, dead coworkers, the drill, everything he had experienced throughout the day. 

He didn’t even know where he was going. He felt his body taking itself towards something, towards a goal that was just out of reach. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew that it would help him.

“Wh-What? Gibbo? Fuck, is tha- Wait, Gibbo, WAI-”

Slam. 

Something happened, and everything went quiet. His vision started to clear up for a few seconds, and for a brief moment, he saw Douglas’s cold, dead face.

“D-Douglas…?” Gibbo stammered. 

Douglas’s hand slipped away, and he fell down into the hatch. Gibbo’s tendrils shot out and latched onto everything nearby. “No.. NONONO!!! DOUGLAS!! IT WASN’T MY FAULT, I DIDN’T DO IT!” This was some sort of fucking nightmare, right? He didn’t want to do this. No. This wasn’t his fault at all.. Right?

Gibbo bewgan to sob. He wanted to do nothing but curl up and die. He couldn’t fix it. It was a fucking nightmare, this whole thing. He just wanted it to end. Gibbo broke down, continuing to sob. Images of his mother, his kids, his wife.. They wouldn’t stop flashing in his vision. 

Then he heard the sound of a door opening and closing. Fuck, no, he couldn’t let this happen to another person, fuck that. He felt his body urge to go in the direction of his coworker, but he resisted. He held himself back, retreating to the shadows. Gibbo realized a way out of this, he could try to lure the coworker out. But how? If he got anywhere near.. Well.. He didn’t know what would happen.

When the person came into view, he jumped out in an attempt to scare them off. 

“AAAGH!! NO, NO GOOD WILL COME OF THIS!”

“What the fuck is that!?” Caz exclaimed, stumbling into one of the lockers that were up against the wall. He slammed it shut, and stayed quiet. Gibbo could clearly see him enter the locker, and the light from Caz’s helmet was visible from across the room. What the fuck was his plan there?

Still sobbing, but now angered, he continued to try coaxing Caz into leaving. But every scare, every shout, every beg he made was simply only met with McLeary talking back with concern.

“D-Don’t come in here..!”

“It’s right pal.. I'm.. staying here.”

Something about Caz didn’t seem right to Gibbo. He didn’t look alright either. He stumbled along with a slight limp. Talking about someone named Suze, and something about Gibbo being some sort of monster. A monster? Without Caz noticing, Gibbo climbed a ladder to the water tanks, and hid in the shadows. Caz climbed up and opened the hatch and climbed down the ladder. Gibbo felt his body lunge towards Caz, and he used all of his strength to not grab Caz. 

“I said.. STAY AWAY!”

He dashed at the entrance, but ended up slipping on a discarded banana peel. In an attempt to stabilize himself, one of his tendrils grabbed onto the latch and closed it. Caz was knocked off the ladder and fell, but when Gibbo heard the incessant cursing, he knew Caz was fine.

“No! NonoNONOO!!!” Gibbo cried out, trying to open the hatch.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT!! NOT MY FAULT!!!”

“Gibbie? What you fuckin.. Do, mate?” Then Caz saw the body, and exclaimed in shock and fear. Gibbo knew he was cooked.

“Douggy, no.. You cannae..”

It's too late now. Have to hide, he’s seen what Gibbo’s done. Gibbo climbed down from the water tanks and hid in the shadows once again, hoping Caz wouldn’t see him. The thing is, Caz stayed in there for quite some time. So much time in fact, that Gibbo was starting to think that Caz somehow drowned in there or something. He was growing impatient. 

Finally, Caz emerged from the water tank. He held something large and orange in his arms.. But Gibbo couldnae tell what it was. His vision was growing blurry at this point, accompanied by the colorful shapes and visions he saw. But Caz was going to tell everyone what he had done.. 

“I-I’m sorry..” Gibbo said, crying. 

He watched as Caz made his ascent up the stairs, still carrying that.. That thing in his arms. Hallucinations of Douglas’s face flashed in his head. The bubbles continued to swirl around, in an almost mesmerizing way.

“I-I didn’t want to… I keep seeing his face…” 

He was going to be alone down there. He didn’t want to go anywhere near his coworkers, but he also didn’t want to be left alone in the dark down there. He yearned for company, he needed someone to be there for him. 

“D-Don’t leave me! I don’t know what to do, PLEASE!!!”

Images of his mom, his family, and all of his friends went through his head, as if to taunt him with a promised freedom and a sense of safety. He just heard Douglas talking to him, over, and over. 

“Tell my mum, tell her… I’ll be hame soon.. Tell her!”

He heard the hatch open, followed by the door slamming a few seconds later. It echoed across the water tanks. Now he was in complete solitude. Gibbo was alone. He didn’t see another person for hours. It was good in a sense, being spared from having to endure the horrors of killing more of his close friends. Apart from the distant roars and howls from above, and the occasional yells, there was no sign of life down there. Only a bloody trail and Murray’s decomposing body.. 

It didn’t take long for Gibbo to make his way back to gas separation. He wandered aimlessly through the tight hallways and the dilapidated rooms. Pipes were burst and gas leaked everywhere. He saw visions of Douglas talking, and his mother, waiting at the door as he  waved goodbye to his friends.

“Knox! Come inside now, supper’s ready now.” 

“Aye, I’m coming, Mum!”

“Well hurry up, otherwise it’ll get cold!”

He walked through the halls, his body taking him along with the long fleshy tendrils as familiar and unfamiliar memories played through his head over and over. 

“It’s okay, Knox. Don’t listen to those eejits, they’re just bullies.”

“Thank you, mum. I love you.”

“Don’t touch.. The water…”

“Wh-what?” Gibbo said, suddenly snapping back to reality. His legs felt cold and wet, and he realized he was standing in a foot of water, and it was rising. 

Engineering was flooding, and it was flooding fast. He didn’t know why, but he knew he didn’t want to be anywhere near the water. It made his skin crawl… or at least what was left of his skin. He was in gas separation at the time. Pipes began to burst all around him, it was pouring down from the ceiling and the walls. By the time he found an exit, the water was already above the tanks. 

Gibbo climbed through the tight hallways, and found himself running above the cramped pipes and past the water tanks. Everything was collapsing around him, and he couldn’t be distracted. He needed to get up to the exit. He couldn’t look back. The stairway shook, and it began to collapse under him, but he was only seconds away from the exit. 

Then the staircase fell from underneath him. Gibbo realized that it was too late. But he felt something inside him, he felt his body react to the sudden loss of a floor, and his tendrils latched onto the platform, pulling him back up. He didn’t realize it at first, but the fungus had just saved him. He would have died otherwise. 

He made his way to the door, and opened it up. That’s when Gibbo learned the true extent of the destruction. It wasn’t just engineering. It was the whole rig. Walls were buckled, ceilings had collapsed, and there was just so much mold everywhere.

Then he heard voices. People! Finally! But he couldn't go to them.. He felt like he just wanted to go to them.. And.. and do something.. He didn’t know what, but knowing what happened to Douglas, he didn’t want to find out. He stayed at the staircase, hiding behind the wall. There were consequences to be had if he was seen. They would hate him, they would kill him. He was a monster, he killed someone!

While he was considering, it was already too late, because that’s when he heard the sound of someone nearby calling his name from the other end of the hallway.

[layla4567]

✨ Working together ✨

Luca from the bear x fem!reader

summary: You and Luca are dating and he taught you everything you know about pastry. So now you want to open your own tea house where you will sell your delicious cakes, and of course he will help you in everything.

warnings: almost no connection to the plot of the show or it's world, maybe a lil suggestive, cloying fluff and corny

A/N: again I must clarify that like Colin Zabel's fic, I have not seen this series (sorry) so maybe what I write is not entirely accurate with the show

You and your boyfriend were looking for places for rent or for sale where you could put your little tea house. Being able to serve anything, even an old, abandoned shed, as long as it was located in a nice landscape with a good view, nothing else mattered. Luca was driving his convertible car making your hair blow in the wind. The times were beautiful at that time in Copenhagen, you were wearing sunglasses and a cute flowery dress that your boyfriend loved every time you wore it. For his part, Luca was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, had taken off his kitchen apron and wore blue jeans underneath. Her blond hair also danced in the breeze.

They were driving through the streets of Denmark with the sun shining on their heads. Months ago you told Luca about your dreams and now they were finally coming true. A little anxious you looked to your right trying to find a good place, your boyfriend caressed your knee with the intention of letting you know that everything would be fine

"Don't worry sweetheart, you'll see that we'll find the perfect place"

"I hope so love, only you know how much I waited for this moment"

Yes, Luca knew it well. So many hours practicing pastry and talking about your hobbies, every time he left work and showed up at your house to teach you how to make Aeblekage or a Koldskål you told him how you were planning to open your own little tea house. He looked at you in admiration and assured you that you were going to succeed. And here they were now, looking for a place to settle and where you could cook your delicious desserts accompanied by the love of your life.

Let 'em wonder how we got this far 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all Yeah, after all this time I'm still into you - Paramore - I'm still into you

At last they had arrived. After tiring around several streets, they found an old abandoned cafe with a dilapidated and crooked sign. It had a window on one side and the walls were dark brick. Above the front door hung a white awning with red stripes, unfortunately it was dirty and had a hole in the middle. Despite everything, you two loved how comfortable and familiar it looked and best of all, it was close to the port just as you wanted. They got out of the car and you began to admire the view, in the distance you could see the water and anchored boats.

"Don't you love it? the place, the sea breeze-you inhaled with your mouth open enjoying the air on your face- I would give anything for more days like this"

Luca looked at you lovingly and wrapped his arms around your waist looking where you were looking

"Have I told you how adorable you are when you talk about what you like?" -Luca kissed your forehead

You wrinkled your nose in contentment. "You tell me every day, hun"

"C'mon your place awaits you"

"Our. Our place awaits us"

They both entered the old building. But happiness disappeared from your pores when you saw that it seemed more dilapidated on the inside than on the outside. The peeling paint on the walls was falling apart, leaving a heap of dust on the floor. There was no furniture left. The wooden ceiling was moldy in places. You couldn't stop the disappointment from drawing on your face. Luca put his arm around your shoulders.

"Hey love it's alright. We can remodel it and I promise you it will be like new. Why don't you go check out the backyard while I find something to clean up?"

Luca is that down to earth and that's what you loved about him. He always found simple solutions to problems that seemed huge. You opened the French window that led to the yard and you felt the flame of hope rekindle in your chest. It was definitely much better than the inside of the building. It wasn't that big, but its low brick walls delimited a large plot. The floor was concrete, and pretty orange flowering vines hung from the walls. You were already imagining how you could use the space by placing beautiful tables with umbrellas.

"Hey babe, I found some brooms and a shovel-"

He stopped when he saw the yard. He also found it beautiful. you turned around with a smile

"So.. what are we waiting for? let's restore this place"

You got to dig a little deeper Find out who you are You got to dig a little deeper It really ain't that far When you find out who you are You'll find out what you need Blue skies and sunshine guaranteed - The princess and the frog - Dig a little deeper

Luca offered you a shovel and together they began to sweep the floor, the dust made them cough and tickled their noses that made you sneeze like a kitten, Luca laughed every time he heard you. The following days were exhausting but pleasant. You bought turquoise paint for the inside of the walls, you two had a blast painting and doing a little mischief

"(Y/N) what do you think if we paint a strip of small sailboats in a darker color? It would go all the way across the wall, but we would need a stencil"

Luca pointed with a finger where the stencil would go, with his muscular and bare arm you couldn't help but pretend to pay attention to him and with your hand that held the brush, paint his wrist. He looked at you surprised, throwing you a reproachful look but deep down he couldn't suppress a smile.

"Oh (Y/N) you're very immature"

You closed your eyes laughing at what he took advantage of to paint the tip of your nose. When you felt something cold and wet on your nose, you opened your eyes and mouth offended, with a defiant grimace they started a paint war, their laughter mixed and echoed throughout the room, your boyfriend grabbed your wrists with the intention that your brush doesn't touch his face. In the end they ended up in a fiery kiss with their hands stained with paint leaving marks on your breasts and buttocks and with yours likewise scattered throughout their entire body, they looked like an abstract painting.

Every day you two were buying things to decorate the tea house. They had bought beautiful brown leather sofas at auction. You had gotten landscape paintings to hang on the wall at a vintage store. The most difficult thing had been to remove the wood from the roof, since some had been ruined by humidity. But by turns they had proposed to remove them little by little. Luca climbed a ladder and took some out, then you, in your eagerness to help, told him to lift you up so you could reach the roof. You always felt a tingle of adrenaline in your belly every time your boyfriend grabbed you by the waist and made you sit on his shoulders. And when you two couldn't handle everything on your own, you hired masons and workers who were very helpful.

With a little effort they managed to restore everything that was damaged, they changed the previous awning for a bigger one and a green one. They placed pots on the outside door and some hanging from the window. You were even able to put the tables you wanted in the backyard with their matching black iron chairs. When everything was ready in terms of decoration and remodeling, you went to the kitchen to prepare tea and desserts, it was the only thing that was missing before opening.

"Dear, could you help me with the dough?"-you asked him nicely

You were about to make some kind of Danish apple pie. Luca approached from behind, pulling his body against your back, which made a shiver run through your body. His arms and hands on top of yours accompanied your movements with a slow and loving rhythm. They stretched the dough back and forth and then rolled it back into a ball. Sometimes Luca teased you mischievously kissing your neck or behind your ear, with his nose buried in your hair. His kisses went down to your shoulder, making you sigh

"Luca…-you said in a warning tone- How unprofessional"

"Oh come on I know you love it"

You turned your head to kiss him. They finished cooking several desserts and also the different teas including iced teas.

And the great day had arrived to open the doors of your tea house. It would only take a few minutes to welcome the people of the city. Both were nervous but especially you, you couldn't believe that your dream would finally come true. With trembling hands you took the key that opened the door, put it in the lock and turned it. It was done

"We did it.."-you looked at his face with happy tears in your eyes.

"You did it"- he corrected you wiping your tears - "It's your dream, don't forget it"

"Dreams can be shared, and that's what I'm doing with you"

He looked at you sweetly and grabbed your chin with his thumb to kiss you passionately. Customers started arriving for snacks, and soon the place was packed both inside and out. Luca promised to help you in the kitchen and you would go and serve the dishes along with the tea. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, everyone was happy and so were you. You almost needed four more arms to serve so many people but you didn't care because that was what you wanted, a place where people can remember the warmth of their home while tasting delicacies prepared with love and delicacy, and if your boyfriend was by your side better. At the end of the day when people left and your place was about to close you and your boyfriend lay exhausted on the leather sofa, it was a busy day but it was satisfying at the same time. You placed your head on Luca's lap as he caressed your cheek.

"Today was the best day of my life, I still can't believe that all of this is real. It's like a sweet dream that I never want to end"

"But it's real love, and we made it together. Although if you want I can pinch you to prove it"

You two laughed amused letting the now empty room fill with your warm laughter that then floated in the air like a sweet dew.

Maybe, it's the way you say my name Maybe, it's the way you play your game But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine - Ruth B - Dandelions

. . . . . . . .

I know, this was maybe a bit boring and too cheesy but I'm a hopeless romantic and I couldn't not write something like that.

[cupioromantic-simp]

Jon x corruption avatar

Jon clicks the button on the tape recorder and the sound resides through out the room

“Statement of”

You state your full name and occupation

“-About entity driven events during my life time”

“Recorded direct from subject by Jonathan sims…” he looks disappointed in you maby that you didn’t tell him or maybe because you are telling him

You take a deep breath and sigh

“First things first I’m sorry for not making a statement after the Jane prentis attack I was worried you’d turn on me I’m sure you’ll see why…

My first experience with a deep internal fear was when I was six me and my mother where on a vacation at a motel near our house not really a vacation per say but it had a pool and and arcade so that’s really all that mattered to me

We had go to this one specific location multiple times but this time it was different it was about twenty years before they closed it up and they whet going through repairs changing out some stuff and adding things to make it more hip for the non-locals

We- me and my mother-where in the pool.. well I was my mother never really liked getting her hair wet and I decided to just float on my back in the pool because I was a shy kid I didn’t know how to interact with people even at six and as I was floating I looked up at the ceiling and.. one of the panels where gone and you could see pipes and wires and… so so much dust I was going to call out to my mom and tell her how dangerous I found it

B-but when I opened my mouth a string of dust fell from the open panel and.. and in to my mouth

I-I can still remember it I gagged so hard I threw up in the pool it was as thick as dryer lint and I- I think I passed out because I don’t remember most of what happened there I just remember that the blankets in our room where the deducting green-brown and that I had an allergic reaction to it ether that or a rash

The next I remember is more clusters of things like wanting to vomit every time I saw bare feet on tile, or that if you pop a pimple wrong it can get in to your blood and cause sepsis, or the fact there where always fruit flies in our house because my mom didn’t have time to clean and I was so forgetful that I whole only remember to bring my mugs down because there was a thick layer of twisting curling mold of top of whatever I was drinking ten days ago

I remember learning that penicillin was just apple mold so I left a slice out for a little over a year just to see what happened

Mold happened obviously

All things rot and decompose I’ve-

I’ve come to peace with that

Sounds like a weird thing to have to come to peace with

I’ve also come to peace with the fact that everything is dirty

Nothing is clean it’s just how it is

Everything touched by human hands is dirty and humans have the need to touch everything

Whether there supposed to or not

I think that’s why it got me the thing that’s corroding the iron in my blood, flaking my skin and molding my meat

And I mean it not in the meat in my fridge though it is in the food but the meat in my body if you can call it that

I am meat and my meat is moldy and crawling with rot and decay

That’s why I didn’t quite care about the worms I think…

Or that they didn’t care about me in the way they cared about Jane

You read her statement you know

‘I am a home for that which loves me’

No it’s not like that

‘I am consumed by that which wants and crawls in the dirt and the air and the ground and the halls and the food and the water it sinks in to my skin and in to my stomach and up my throat and in to the pool and in to the filters and in to the skin of the others who return it to me because I am it’s master and it owns me and I am so full and connected and so so scared’”

You and Jon stare at each other for al least thirty seconds

“S-… um.. s-statement ends…”

He moves his hand to the tape recorder but his hand trembles before he can touch anything

You can feel that he can feel it all around the dust, dead skin, the paper mold I mean who knows where that tape recorder has bean, how long, what kind of plastic mold crawls and hides and feasts you’ve really been touching that thing Jon? Who knows what bacteria you’ve spread with that thi-

“STOP!” Jon if visibly shaking “how-..what… why did you do that?!”

“Hmm? I’m not sure, I don’t know if it was even a conches decision, is it weird being on the receiving end of an avatar spell thing? Because i know it’s weird when you do your little statement suction thing”

“I um-“

“Oh you didn’t understand how horrific things like that are, you up set your self with the thought that you’ve been doing a similar thing to people”

You move you hand wanting to comfort him some how but quickly realize that holding his hand with your corrupted fungi filled strangely soft hands it would probably send him in to another fear fuelled panic so you just move your hand back in to your lap

“I’m.. sorry Jon, I… I think I’ll be going now, for awhile, you should um clean the apartment I think… I- I’m not sure what to say… goodbye Jon”

You click off the tape recorder for him before leaving

[yandere----fandoms8790]

Yandere! Toy Freddy x Reader(Part 2): Dark times call for dark measures(Chase of a lifetime)

I bolt out of the office and run for my life, hoping and praying that he doesn't catch me.

"My love, come back to me..." I hear Toy Freddy say in a calm and calculative voice. I take notice of his appearance, his baby blue eyes, his brunette hair that shines in the dim lights of the office. his nearly perfect features, his red and rosey cheeks. For his attire he wore a light brown button-up shirt as well as a black vest over top of it. Black dress pants cover his hips and legs, as well as an black apron around his waist.

His voice, smooth as a silk dress, while also holding a firm and strong undertone.

I have kept running, though he has started to walk after me.

I pray to the God above that he doesn't catch me as I run through this dim lit hall.

The walls of this pizzeria were old, run-down some might say, they could use a good cleaning. The ceiling of this drab place was currently white, though with the mold and dirt on the ceiling it looked like a greenish-grey. The floor, covered with papers, dirt, and mold.

I wish I never came here, never hired here, to work as a stupid security guard. Though how was I supposed to know that it would lead to my capture? Simple, I couldn't have known, though I should've seen the signs, the way he looked at me during performances, the way he talked sweetly to me. I should've seen this coming, then I wouldn't be in this old run-down building.

I have kept running all this time, down these drab, moldy halls. I began to get tired from all of this running, my stamina was nearly all gone.

I run into a well-lit room and I notice a meat grinder and I hide behind it. This room also had mold, dust, and dirt in it, but, I could care less. For all I knew, he could be behind me and I would be dead. Though since he isn't behind me, I am not dead.

I take notice of him coming inside this room I am in, he was standing there. As if he could smell me, he looked over my way.

"Oh, Darling, did you think you could hide from me?", He ask as he began to walk toward my hiding area.

As he walks to me I get an idea to turn the meat grinder on, so I can get rid of this nightmare. Therefore, I turn it on as he lunges at me, but, I dodge and he has fallen into the meat grinder.

All I hear are his screams, though they die down quickly as he is being grinded into little bits, blood spilling everywhere, his organs flying out of the grinder. His heart flies out of the grinder and lands at my feet I stare at it with horror as I then look back at the grinder, only to see his head peeking out of the grinder, I then scream in horror and begin to run away, faster than I have in ages.

I look back to see him crawling out of the meat grinder and I see him laugh. this was no normal laugh this was the laugh of a madman, this laugh could send shivers down a psychopath's spine.

I keep running and I nearly get to the exit before I hear a squishy sound coming from behind me and I look behind me. Only to see his lower jaw broken and hanging off of it's hinges, only hanging by the skin, his lower half torn off of him. It was a gory mess indeed

I run out of the pizzeria in shire terror. I quit my job the next day, and to this day still I have nightmares of that fateful night. I never want to go to that pizzeria again.....

[rwggrace]

Pebbles, Wood Lice, and Other Alright Things

read on A03 || inspired by art || and also Wilbur's podcast episode about bugs I highly recommend it

Thank you so so much to @thunderbottle for, firstly, creating such lovely beautiful amazing thought-provoking art, and for giving me permission to post a fic based on it!!

As soon as I saw the crime boys piece I was overcome with Inspiration, but it took me months to actually start working on a story. Now though, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out :)

I hope you guys enjoy!

Psssst reblogs are Quite helpful for writers :)))

~~~

Tommy shifts, wincing as he feels a pebble pressing into his back. It seems like he can feel every single pebble beneath him tonight, no matter how small. He didn't used to; he used to have a mattress, and the mattress was thick enough to block out all the rocks. It was comfortable, too. He and Wilbur both slept on mattresses when they first got to Pogtopia, but then Techno told them that the mattresses would get all moldy because the caves are damp. Tommy told him that he didn't care and that he could handle a little mold, but Wilbur—stupid Wilbur—agreed with Techno, so they'd tossed the mattresses. Now they sleep on the ground, with one blanket beneath each of them. The blanket doesn't really do much to protect against the rocks. It's not very comfortable either. 

Tommy sighs, the noise echoing back at him from the walls, making it seem a lot louder than it really had been. He rolls onto his side, and that's also loud because of the echo. Then he rolls back over. 

Tommy wishes that he had his mattress back. 

"Stop moving," Wilbur mumbles, and Tommy whips his head around to stare. 

"The rocks keep poking me! I'm not comfortable, Wil!"

Wilbur only grunts. 

"I keep trying to get comfortable but I can't," Tommy continues. Wilbur doesn't say anything, so then Tommy says, "We should've kept the mattresses."

Breathing in—through his nose, probably, because it sounded weirdly loud. Wilbur should get a tissue and blow his nose—the man says, "No, we shouldn't have. They would've gotten moldy."

Tommy snorts. "I don't care. Big Man Innit can handle mold. Mold is frail and not poggers, and I am the exact opposite of those things. I'm- I'm strong and masculine!"

Wilbur waits a second or two. "The mattresses would have gotten gross, Tommy. And you still would've gotten sick."

Tommy furrows his brow. "Mold can make you sick?"

Wilbur sighs, once again through his nose. It's louder than before. "Yes. Gosh, you're such a- child."

"What? What'd I say?"

"Mold makes you sick, Tommy, everyone knows that."

Tommy wrinkles his nose. "Well, I didn't."

"That further proves how much of a child you are."

Tommy grumbles out a curse, slapping Wilbur on the arm. Wilbur whines, using his leg to push Tommy away. Tommy slaps him again. Wilbur doesn't move.

Tommy groans, letting his head fall onto the rolled up blanket he keeps as a pillow. He used to lay on a big smooth rock, but then Techno saw it, laughed, and told him that he was dumb.

(Well, maybe Techno didn't say dumb, but he certainly implied it!)

And then Techno had pulled out a blanket from his inventory, wrapping it up until it looked like a fat snake, and handed it to Tommy, telling him to use that instead. Tommy did. Turns out, rolled up blankets are a lot more comfortable than smooth rocks. 

Anyway, Tommy uses that instead of a pillow, and he lays on a blanket instead of a mattress, and it's overall a lot worse than a real bed. 

Tommy shuts his eyes, then opens them, staring up. The ceiling is really tall here. Is ceiling the right word? Maybe it isn't. The top of the cave. No, that's a boring name. Tommy can figure out a better word to call it. 

Munk... slopjop... helloeeoh. Helloeeoh. 

Tommy snorts. The helloeeoh of the cave is really tall; far taller than any regular ceiling in a regular building. He'd asked Techno exactly how tall it was, and he'd said about a hundred feet. Maybe more. 

That's proper tall, isn't it? It all turns black towards the top, so Tommy can't see what's up there. Maybe hanging rocks, or crystals, or more caves that turn into bigger caves and even more caves after that. Or maybe the very top is dotted with tiny things that look like stars. That would be cool. Tommy wouldn't mind looking at tiny almost-stars before he fell asleep every night. It would almost be like looking at real stars, except almost-stars wouldn't flicker or shoot across the sky sometimes. 

Tommy rests his hands on his chest, shifting his shoulders back and forth. He sighs again, but this time it doesn't sound so angry. It just sounds like a sigh. Then Tommy turns his head to glance at Wilbur. 

Wilbur's laying on his side, facing away from Tommy, except he looks kind of weird. All curled up with his legs towards his stomach. Shoulders hunched, head near his chest. He looks sort of like a bug, actually. One of those grey bugs that roll up real tight. They're really small. Lots of legs. They're called something... wood bugs? Roll bugs? Lice? No, not lice. Tubbo got lice once, all in his hair, and it looked like a bunch of white specks except they were bugs. It was very disgusting. 

"Wilbur?"

"Mm?" Wilbur sounds a lot sleepier than he did a few minutes ago. 

"What are those bugs called, the ones that like, roll up. The grey ones."

Wilbur pauses a moment. Tommy can hear him breathing softly, through his stuffed-up nose. "Wood lice. Or wood louse, if it's just one of them."

"Oh. Okay."

Tommy thinks about wood lice. They're small bugs, not big like beetles or butterflies. Bigger than ants, though. Tommy's held wood lice before, and they're a bit smaller than his fingernails. They've got lots of legs, and those are really tiny. A whole bunch of legs, too, all lined up in rows on either side of the bug. And their backs have a bunch of lines on them—segments, he thinks. Tubbo's the bug expert. Tommy can ask him what they're called when he sees him next. 

Wood lice curl up really tightly sometimes; they'll squeeze themselves until they look like tiny balls, except they don't bounce. Tommy tried once, bouncing a wood louse, when he was little. The bug just hit the ground and after a bit it uncurled and ran away, and Tommy went off to find lizards instead. Lizards are better than wood lice, Tommy reckons. More colorful and cool. Maybe there's lizards that live in Pogtopia?

Tommy shifts his shoulders again, looking towards Wilbur. Yeah, he definitely looks like a curled-up wood louse. That's kind of funny. 

Tommy's about to nudge Wilbur's shoulder and make fun of him for looking like a bug, but then he pauses. Wood lice... they only curl up when they're frightened, he's pretty sure. It's a defense mechanism, or whatever it's called. A way to protect themselves from things that want to eat them. Things that want to hurt them. 

Wilbur is all curled up like a wood louse. 

Tommy bites his lip. Suddenly, it doesn't seem so funny anymore. 

"Hey, Wilbur?"

There's no answer for a bit. Tommy nudges Wilbur's arm. "Hey. You up?"

Wilbur groans, shifting his arm so it doesn't touch Tommy anymore. "Yes. What do you want?"

"Wood lice are your favorite bugs, aren't they? I heard you say something about them in L'manburg. You said you liked them a lot. That's true, isn't it?"

It's very quiet in the cave, so quiet that Tommy can hear something dripping far away. Maybe Wilbur fell asleep. 

Just when Tommy's about to nudge him again, Wilbur says, "Yes. They are my favorite bugs." After a pause, he says again, "Why are you asking?"

"I don't know. Just curious." Tommy brings his hands up, fiddling with a loose piece of skin on his thumb. "Why are they your favorites?"

"Why are they my favorites?"

"Yes. I just asked that. Stop repeating things, Wilbur."

Wilbur huffs. "I think they're cool."

"Well I don't," Tommy retorts. "I think they're weird and unsettling. Like squirrels that eat pillows; that'd be real unsettling, wouldn't it?"

"But they're not squirrels that eat pillows." Wilbur's voice is lifted in a way that makes it sound like he's smiling, but his face is turned away so Tommy can't tell if he really is smiling. "Not at all. Wood lice are cool little bugs, and they eat, like, wood."

"Like beavers."

"I suppose."

Tommy sighs, flinging his hands away. "But why are they your favorites? They're all ugly and grey and stuff, and they live in the dirt."

"Your house is made out of dirt, Tommy."

"But I'm different! I'm not at their level, Wilbur! They're at level two, but I'm at level fourteen. We are nothing alike."

Wilbur laughs—or rather, makes a noise that could maybe be considered a laugh if you squint. Or like, squint your ears. Wilbur sounds all breathy and huffy, almost like he's choking instead of laughing. 

But Tommy thinks that he laughs anyway. He hopes so.

"Wood lice aren't very cool," Tommy continues, once Wilbur's choke-laughter subsides. "They're the opposite of bees, and bees are cool. Tubbo likes bees a lot. You should like bees instead."

Wilbur breathes out, stretching out his legs until they're not curled up to his chest. It makes a sliding sound against the blanket, and some pebbles scratch against the ground. "Well, Tubbo can like bees if he wants to. But I'm not Tubbo. I can like wood lice if I want to."

"It doesn't make them cool, though," Tommy replies, letting out another huff. "And you still haven't answered my question."

"What question?"

"Why you like them so much. And you can't just say 'they're cool' because that's not really an answer and it kind of sucks."

It goes quiet again. Tommy can still hear the dripping in the cave, but he can't tell where it's coming from. It sounds like it's coming from everywhere, but he knows that's just because of the echo. It's not really coming from everywhere. Just from one place, far away. Tommy's glad it's not coming from somewhere nearby, because then it could've dripped onto Tommy's face while he slept and he'd wake up cold and angry. 

Wilbur's been quiet for a while.

"Well?" Tommy asks, making sure that his voice sounds extra impatient.

"I don't know, they're just-!" Wilbur rubs at his face, shifting his legs again. More pebbles scratching the ground. "I don't know, I just think they're cool! They're little guys, and they don't... they don't hurt anybody. They're just little guys. They just hang out."

Tommy pauses. "That was a proper weird answer."

Wilbur does his choke-laughing thing again, rolling onto his back a little bit. Tommy can see part of his face now, but only like, a section of his cheek. Everything else is still turned away. "What's weird about it? It was an answer, wasn't it?"

"Well... yeah, I guess. But it was a weird one."

Wilbur hums, and silence fills the air once more. It's a better silence than earlier, though. A more respectable silence. Tommy can still hear the dripping somewhere in the cave. 

"One of my first houses was um... a little run-down," Wilbur says, and his voice is soft and quiet. "I wasn't very experienced in building at that point, so I ended up buying a house from somebody. It had been a while since anyone had lived in it, though, and I don't think anyone bothered to take care of it or anything. It was essentially left to rot. Until I showed up, at least."

Wilbur takes a deep breath, and it rattles a little in his chest. "And the first night I spent there, laying in my bed, I noticed all these weird... spots on the wall. It was like-"

"Graffiti!"

"No, it was not graffiti."

"Aw. I wish it was graffiti."

"Well, it wasn't. There were all these spots on the walls, right around the corners, and when I got out a torch to see what they were, I found out there were a ton of wood lice, just living there! Right in my house- in my bedroom!"

Tommy bursts into laughter, using his elbows to sit up. "What?!"

"Yeah! There must've been hundreds of them up there."

Tommy laughs harder, choking on his own spit before asking, "Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Wow, that is-" Tommy laughs again, laying back down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That is strange as anything, Wilbur."

"My neighbors all wanted me to get rid of them, but I didn't really mind. They were just chilling, and they weren't, like, poisonous or anything. I didn't really see a problem with them. However," Wilbur raises a finger. "I still needed to get them out. They didn't belong in my house."

Wilbur shifts again, and Tommy can see a little more of his face. Part of his eye. "I knew that wood lice were attracted to, like, rotting things, right? So I took a walk around my house and looked for places that were dark and wet, and I ended up finding a spot on the outside of the house, right by the ground, where a bunch of dead leaves had piled up. I figured that all the bugs were coming from there, because it was just rot, and they love rot. So, I picked up all the leaves and moved them away from the house. I think I put them under a bush or something, where birds wouldn't get to them. And Tommy—"

Tommy looks towards Wilbur, and realizes that Wilbur is looking towards him, flat on his back and tilting his head slightly, eyes wide. He doesn't look like a wood louse anymore. "It was crazy. It was like a switch flipped, because all the bugs just evacuated out of my house so freaking quickly. I could just sit and watch them all move together like a flock of birds. Tommy, it was incredible."

Tommy tilts his head, squinting his eyes up. "It sounds kinda creepy to me."

Wilbur goes quiet, but only for a few seconds. "It wasn't. It was cool."

"If you say so, Wilbur," Tommy says with a shrug, though he doesn't really mean that at all. 

Wilbur sniffs. "All that to say, I really like wood lice."

"I don't."

Wilbur sighs. "Okay. That's fine."

Tommy turns his head all the way to the left, towards Wilbur, until his cheek almost rests on the ground. He smirks. "You wish that I liked wood lice, don't you?"

Wilbur's mouth twitches. "I don't care what sort of bugs you like, Tommy."

"Oh, you care. I can see it in the whites of your eyes, Wilbur. As plain as day."

Wilbur huffs, but doesn't say anything else. Tommy doesn't say anything either, and the two of them drift into silence. 

Silences are usually uncomfortable, like being trapped in a too-small room with no windows. Not this silence, though. This silence feels nice. It's like... it's sort of like being in a real big library. Libraries are big, and they're filled with books, and they smell all old and strange but good at the same time. There's lots of places to go in a library, with all the different sections and little hallways and stuff. It's not like you're stuck. 

So this silence is the library kind of silence. 

Tommy finds that he doesn't mind it all that much. There's still something dripping somewhere far away, and Wilbur's nose is still stuffy, and there's still little pebbles underneath his blanket and all that is pretty alright, actually. 

Tommy takes a big deep breath, resting his hands on his chest and feeling them rise as he inhales. Wilbur isn't curled up like a wood louse anymore. That's very good. Instead, he's stretched out on his back like Tommy, looking up at the helloeeoh of the cave. Breathing in through his stuffy nose. 

Tommy's glad that Wilbur doesn't look like a wood louse anymore. 

"Hey, Wilbur?"

"Hm?"

"I lied. Wood lice are pretty decent bugs, I guess. I don't hate them." He pauses for a second or two. "They're still not my favorites, though."

When Wilbur doesn't say anything, Tommy turns to look at him again. Wilbur's staring up, a small smile on his face. "Okay, Tommy. I'm- that's good to hear. I'm glad you don't hate them."

Tommy smiles back. 

His bed doesn't seem all that uncomfortable now. 

[whoknows-anymore28]

Here's my contribution to the fnaf anniversary:

(Ik im not really in the fandom but I felt like I kinda had to do smth, you know?)

Thank you to @alexthesillybilly for the concept, and @liquid-geodes for the idea of blind Springtrap!!

First two chapters are under the cut

It was another day.... was it? Lord knows he's lost all sense of time at this point. He's... awake and that's about all he knows. He can't stand yet. Perhaps in an hour or so he'll try.

He can't see- hasn't been able to for some time. It doesn't matter though. The room is still dark. There is no noise save for his own raspy breath and the faint drip-dropping of water from the moldy ceilings.

Just another day.

He- for lack of better word- thinks to himself. What else can he do? He simply ruminates. About his regrets and mistakes, about his friends and family. It is lonely, but what else can he do?

After all, it's just another day.

He hears a noise. A new noise. A different noise. It is a prominent, thumping sound. It sounds an awful lot like footsteps.

Fear is the first sensation that blooms in his chest and he thinks of how irrational that is. He. William Afton. Sitting here. His body torn apart and rotting. Sitting in a pile of his own dried blood and other horrible things that used to be inside of him. Scared. Of footsteps.

He'd laugh if he had the willpower.

He's about to stop caring- about to name this whole scenario a freak accident until he hears the door to the room opening.

Opening.

The door to his prison has been opened and all he wants to do is to shut it. It's too hot, the light from the door. It's too much. He is pretty sure there is a man standing there. He sounds excited. Why?

William quickly discovers why.

The man is walking over to him. Walking. Walking. Step after step.

Get away, William wants to scream. Get away get away get away. I don't know you, why are you here? I don't want you here! what are you going to do to me? Can't you see I'm suffering- YOU'RE TOO CLOSE GET AWAY!

The man says something but William can't hear over the roaring crescendo of his own panic and the overwhelming urge to sob and scream and to fend off The Indtruder.

He can feel The Intruder right in front of him now. Too close. William thinks.

"What the hell happened to you?" The man- Intruder asks, tilting his head to the right. He light nudges William's side with his foot. "Oh man you're gunna look fantastic with the others." He says excitedly.

William wants to tell this man that he is a human being. He wants to tell him that he's here and he's awake and he's trapped but he can't. He wants to say so many things but he's unable to. Between his blinding terror and his torn vocal cords all verbal communication is practically obsolete.

So he sits there. His head pounding. His heart racing. The man reaches out and brushes a light hand against the outer layer of the costume.

William wants to scream.

The man reaches out and brushes a light hand against one of William's ribs.

William screams.

The man jumps back faster than a rabbit and stares at him in terror. "What the fuck?!" He screams at the robot. The man is trembling, terrified of what this monster is going to do to him. Of what this monster could do to him.

"Fucking voice box..." The Intruder mutters to himself.

Of course he thinks it's a voice box. Of course he does. William internally shuts his eyes, for he has no eyes. (They were ripped out of their sockets years ago.) There is no hope of getting out of here. Not with this man at least. He feels the man pet him on the head and hears him walk away.

And then there is quiet. Lovely, peaceful, familiar quiet.

The quiet, sadly, doesn't last long.

The next week there isn't just one man. There are four.

William hears them enter his room. Hears them talk about him. Hears them walk towards him. He feels the all too familiar jolt of panic in his chest again. And then he is being picked up.

He wants to kill them. Kill them all. Watch the life drown out of their eyes as he fashions a scarf around their nearly severed necks out of their own disembowled intestines. He wants to see them shriek in pain and agony because they are taking him away from his space.

In the back of his frantic mind he knows he should be grateful that he is at least getting out. But he isn't. He's scared.

Ch.2

He wakes up in a different room. This one is colder. He is also- for some unknown reason- standing upright. There is a sort of... beam or support bar that is keeping him standing. William can sense other objects beside him, though he can't tell what they are. He hears someone laugh. It is a child.

"Yeah, they said he got stuck in there, but obviously this isn't the actual guy."

The kids friend laughs. "That's fucking hilarious!" She says. "He actually got stuck? Did he die?"

"Nobody knows," says the first kid, "but probably."

William hears them walk away, and if he had eyes, he would be seeing bright, horrible, crimson red. His blood is rushing and all he can think is that his demise, his torture, is a joke. He wants to kill those kids. Maim them beyond repair- beyond recognition. He wants to see maggots fester in their disembowled caverns of a stomach. He wants to-

He hears other people walk by and at first he thinks he is on display, and then he knows he's on display. Why is he on display? His mind races as the panic replaces anger. He is being looked at, yet he can't see. He is being watched, yet can't gaze back in return. People are looking at him and he doesn't even know where he is.

"-Yeah, the attraction should be open in about a week." Says a man, cutting into William's frantic thoughts. The man is too close.

"-'Kay. Just keep your kids away from the animatronics 'till it is, alright? I wouldn't want them breaking something." A second man says. He has a vaguely southern accent and sounds mildly annoyed.

"Sure Bill, sure." The first man says.

"Good." Bill says, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Alright." The other man says.

William hears both men leave and his fury is reignited at the thought of sharing a name with his jailers- with the people keeping him trapped in this horrific place. (Then again, it wasn't like he was exactly free sitting in a pile of dried blood in a dark abandoned pizzaria.)

God he hates his existence.

It is a few more hours before he hears something again. At this point he assumes it's around 11:00 or 12:00 o'clock.

He hears someone in a room a few halls down, it sounds like a man, and he is talking to himself. William can't make out what he's saying, but the voice sounds oddly familiar.

He hears someone familiar?

No.

That's impossible....

William moves his arm.

It hurts.

It hurts more than he has words to describe.

He moves his leg.

It hurts.

He unlatches himself from the support beam holding him up.

It hurts.

He takes a step forward before he can think about where he might be stepping. He falls off a short stage and crashes onto the ground.

A few stray spinglocks go off.

He hears himself give a pitiful cry. He can't help it. Everything hurts. Everything always hurts but this isn't stale, old pain, it's blinding. It is white hot, searing agony.

Yet he has a goal, and god be damned, he is a determined man.

He stands up, and that hurts too, but he grits his teeth and straightens his back.

He is standing now, and the fear of the unknown has returned. His breath quickens, and he hears it in rasps. It is a horrible sound, really, not unlike a balloon losing its air. This comparison does not help calm him down in the slightest.

He turns his head and it does nothing but hurt.

He can't see, touch, or taste, and his sense of smell is choked with his own blood.

Hearing is the most reliable.

So he walks slowly in the direction of the man's voice, his heart pounding because he doesn't know where the fuck he is.

He runs into something.

And then another thing.

And then another.

He doesn't know if he can cry anymore, but good lord if he can he ought to.

Inwardly; he is terrified. He doesn't know where he is, where he is going, or where he was originally. He is completely disoriented and his only alignment is the strangers voice that sounds vaguely familiar.

Outwardly; this is humiliating. He was a genius- still is a genius- and yet he is forced to stumble about, blindly running into things and cursing his own existence.

He is getting closer to the man, he can hear the mumbling getting louder. There is muttering... but there is also... heavy breathing? Like the man got jumpscared? And... sirens?

William walks faster now, yet his heart continues to pound in what is left of chest. He walks faster, but he wishes he didn't.

Eventually, his hand grazes against glass and he jumps. He can hear the man much better, and the man sounds terrified.

The man sounds very familiar now.

The man sounds like him.

The man sounds like Micheal.

And all of a sudden William is enveloped in a thick veil of terror as he processes the fact that his son is here. Why is his son here? He has to get closer.

He has to.

He keeps his hand against the glass and he nearly runs. He stumbles as the wall gives out to a doorway. He hears a gasp of terror and... it is undoubtably Micheal.

He walks toward the sound. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a horrible sound. It is more of a shriek really.

He hears another shriek. It is not his.

Something hard and metal connects with his head and the last thing he hears is:

"What the fuck is that thing?"

I hope y'all enjoyed! Please let me know if you want more!

[imaseawitch]

I'm at home, sick, dripping sweat, wheezing. My husband was sick last week, but has recovered. He only had to miss two days of work, thank goodness he was sick on his normal days off. I have paid PTO and he doesn't.

The apartment complex has been sold to a new leasing company. They're making lots of repairs, including coming to fix the dripping, moldy ceiling that I had complained about to the old company many times. I hear footsteps on the ceiling now, and am expecting workers to knock soon. I have a mask by the door. The new workers I've seen are a crew of unfamilar white guys, replacing the singular Hispanic man who used to come by to fix anything when I put in requests. He never did a thorough job, but I would always wave when I saw him. Once, I got him flowers when I accidentally flooded the apartment downstairs by forgetting to turn off the water as I filled jugs for my fish tanks through a filter. I worry this new apartment complex will price us out when it comes time to renew our lease.

We had to install a new app because they're fixing the entrance and exit gates that have never worked in the years we've lived here. This app will make us safer, as smart technology always purports to do. I didn't read the whole long list of terms and conditions, but it started with "We collect your data..."

They asked for our registration expiration, but Texas just removed vehicle registration requirements. One less thing to worry about getting pulled over for. My husband took the car today. I worry about him, especially with news of ICE raids and declarations of "crisis" regarding immigration. We went to an immigration lawyer recently and they quoted us just shy of $10,000 for his case. We've been married for almost 7 years. We share a home, a car, our bills. Our hearts.

We recently spent $5000 on a new hybrid battery for Carlos, our 2013 Prius C, the smaller and more efficient Prius. Was the lithium mining for the battery better than the gas consumption? Was the investment in this car better than buying a new one? I'm still paying off my Discover card.

That's why I couldn't qualify for Care Credit when Quas, our 13 year old cat, swallowed some string and needed emergency surgery. The tension on the knots in the string as it moved through her guts knotted her up, sliced her open from the inside. We thought she would die. My baby sister, who wisely lived with mom (rent-free) for the first year of her professional career paid the bill. I'm still paying her back monetarily, but I'll never pay her back with enough love. I'll try.

A knock on the door. I grabbed my mask and croaked, "Hold on one moment please" but there was no one there. Just a package. Ah, the isopropyl alcohol. I ordered it from Amazon so I could get a gallon jug, less plastic than the smaller containers available at the store. Does the reduction in plastic offset the carbon cost of having it delivered? I hope so. I opened the package and found 4 32floz plastic bottles anyway.

I'll go back to crocheting hearts here in a moment. Gifts for coworkers and friends with Valentine's Day approaching. It's a greeting card holiday, but I love love and all things cutesy and heart shaped. I won't buy any greeting cards. I'm using old yarn that I bought years ago before I decided to stop using polyester. I'll stuff the hearts with fabric scraps and plastic grocery bags from when I forget my reusable bags, which is almost always. I try, I really do.

What will I do after that?

[fallouttboy]

hi can i just take like three seconds of your time

i was at tourdust chicago (opening night) so i had zero idea about the set or the horrors that were going to be occurring for the rest of tour. one thing that i noticed pretty much immediately was the set for the tttyg songs. it looked different than the rest of the set before and after SPECIFICALLY the tttyg songs (gta, chicago, calm before the storm). i wanted to see if they would keep it for the rest of the tour or if it was just a chicago thing/crew mistake/etc, and they did! they kept it! so let me introduce to you what ruined my life for good:

the lowered light fixture!

but, jasper, who fucking cares? ME. I CARE. AND YOU SHOULD TOO. because what else came with the lowered (and tttyg blue) lighting? they all stood closer together, closer to the center of the stage (for the most part). sure, that could be so the lighting hits all of them equally, but is it? no. not for me.

you know what it reminded me of? shitty tiny basement shows. little clubs. cramped together on a glorified box of a stage, hardly enough room to coexist let alone put on a show, lights haphazardly hung from the ceiling to pretend that the atmosphere was good and not smelling of moldy carpet and overpriced cheap beer.

they’re playing stadiums and big arenas, they aren’t a little band anymore. tourdust was an exploration of their music through the years, not just as a nostalgia grab but as a genuine, hey-look-where-we’ve-come presentation. they could’ve kept old music off of the setlist, just stuck with saturday and maybe gta, but they didn’t. they played their old songs for old fans, but they played them for themselves. it wasn’t just for fans this tour, that’s evident in the patrick solo time and the 8 ball-they wanted to do this for themselves just as much as for us. they love fall out boy just as much as us, if not more.

the lights hanging low on the stage at wrigley field got me feeling some type of horrible wax-poetic way and i don’t know if they did it on purpose or if it was just coincidental, but regardless of purpose, the message was clear: they know how far they’ve come. there’s a light on in chicago and they finally came home, under the glow of the city, forever a lake effect kid.