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Bill had developed an eye for spaces that Valerie would and wouldn’t fit into. He had also learned that she could fit into impressively narrow spaces, and that the signs could be minimal if he went slow. Sure, leaves would be bent and branches might break, but if he eased into a clearing on the side of the road, you’d have to be looking for the signs once he got out and did a little landscaping.     He had done just such a thing that day, parking Valerie in a grove just off a highway  that had been crowded in with trees. It would be a safe place for the night, he had figured, and he had wanted to get out and stretch his legs a little.     Valerie’s solar panels were set up in their entirety; the weather had been turning and he wanted to make sure her batteries were all the way charged. With her in rest mode, he was sitting under an umbrella to her side, silently weaving away at what was going to be a bed roll made of old clothes and sheets he had collected. He worked away until twilight, only looking up when he realized that the light had shifted and orange was splashed across the sky like spilled paint.     Setting his half-finished bedroll in his lap, he smiled to himself as he admired the view, letting his awareness of the world settle back in. The insects were singing, and the trees were whispering to each other. A few feet away, the golden retriever curled up on her own mat was staring into the trees, alert but not yet overly concerned.     Bill scowled, immediately alert himself.     “What is it, Cherish..?”     He sat up, listening harder. Nothing, nothing… wait- the sound of laboured breaths, and something scraping against asphalt.     “Stay,” Bill told his dog, rising carefully out of his chair and grabbing the sword that was resting on a nearby table as he set down his project.     Holding the blade carefully, he moved through the underbrush separating his campsite from the road. He hovered just on the edge, eyes scanning, and then froze as he saw the figure collapsed near the middle of the road. The man’s white shirt was grimey, but what drew Bill’s eyes was the dark stain that matted the fabric and dribbled down his pants.     “Oh, shit!” He immediately shifted into crisis mode, stuffing his sword into the sheath on his hip as, forgetting any danger, he left the brush at the side of the road and rushed to the fallen man.     “Hey! You with me, man?” His hands open, he approached the guy, ready to jump back at a moment’s notice, but focused on the way too much blood that was coating his clothes. Bad! Bad! Hospital was, of course, his first thought, but those didn’t exist any more, so his mind flashed instead to his sewing kit and he groaned at the idea.     “I’m Bill,” he said, kneeling beside the man he’d already decided was his patient. 

He'd felt it the moment it happened: the tear of flesh as he'd haphazardly squeezed himself through an already-shattered window in his efforts to escape the hoard.

At first he'd been numb to it. The adrenaline coursing through him as he slid down a drainpipe and disappeared into the maze of side streets and alleys kept him sharp and focused. Even as the blood gradually began to form a dark red stain against the grubby white shirt on his back, he ran so quickly it would have put a bullet to shame.

It's when he's put enough distance between himself and the cluster of mottled corpses that he starts to feel the effects. With nothing but the open road ahead of him and a frankly pathetic amount of gauze left in his bag, Peter sees no choice but to press his hand over the deep cut and continue dragging himself on.

The sky is a foreboding shade of orange when the witch is brought to his knees with weakness. He kneels there on all fours taking deep breaths and blinking hard, willing himself not to pass out in such a vulnerable, open space.

If anybody comes this way, they'll steal what little you have. The dead will feast if they stumble upon you.

He loses the fight; slips into phases of unconsciousness, cupping the bloody gash through his shirt the whole while. Stupid, he thinks, scowling into the concrete below. It's so stupid to survive everything you have and then get taken out by a fucking cut. Figures you'd go out like this.

@wisenedup, semi-plotted starter!

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when canon gives you an underdeveloped character and you just have to make do:

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Hello! I'm Zeke, and I have made a server to connect people looking for in-character pen pals! Find it here. On the server you'll find a sign up sheet to offer a little speed bump for any lazy spammers/etc, so I can try and ensure members are actually interested in exchanging letters. The main goal is to connect people for physical snail mail exchanges, but there's options to write on server, in email, or off server as well!

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THE LAST OF US | Part I

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infected-immunity​:

Ah, Bill. 

The guy who had all the good stuff but would cut your hand off for looking at it. Had it not been for Joel, Ellie would have exercised a little more caution around the man. But Joel didn’t seem scared of him. In fact (against every odd) Joel even seemed to like the guy- maybe even trust him a little. That had to mean something, right? 

So what if Joel had just left her here to ‘stay safe’ whilst he went out, that didn’t mean she needed to sit in the corner twiddling her thumbs until he came back. No way! This place was cool and so was the stuff! At Bill’s gruff tone, Ellie turned. 

He’d had enough of her touching things, hadn’t he? Oh well, she’d accept a job. At least Bill was involving her in something. 

“Yeah, okay.” Ellie answered, already halfway up the stairs as Bill mustered the right words. 

Bedroom, bedroom, bedroom - ah-hah! Bingo. 

Ellie wound into the room. 

“What d’you keep in here?” She called, unable to hide the hint of glee at being instructed to search somewhere so private. It was a pretty boring room, all things considered. Ellie had expected a wall of guns, or knives, or a flamethrower! Why was he so twitchy? It didn’t take much digging to find a black duffel bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, Ellie wandered back onto the landing, standing at the top of the stairs. In her other hand was a comic book. 

“Dude, no way! Where’d you get these?! I’ve been stuck on that dumb cliffhanger for ages! Not anymore…”

Focused on the task at hand, Bill didn’t watch as Ellie left. He probably should have, but he was too busy keeping track of all the guts of the Nintendo 64 he had cracked open and splayed on the table.       The hum of the generator buzzed at the back of his mind as he checked the soldering iron.      “Idiot,” he muttered to himself. “This is why you get all yer materials t’gether before you start.”       He did one last mental inventory before moving the pieces into little trays he had set out so they wouldn’t roll away. One ear remained open for Ellie, listening as her footsteps traced the path into his bedroom, where he kept his go bag and had deposited his repair bag.       When she returned, his eyes moved up at the movement in his peripheral, and his expression quickly set into a scowl.       “Does that look like a bag to you, kid?” Then his brain caught up and he straightened, eyebrows popping up out of their set line. “Wait, you like Savage Starlight?”

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There are a million ways we should’ve died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight… for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it’s two minutes, or two days… we don’t give that up.

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emmett and bill... cut from the same cloth

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his dark materials/TLOU cross over.... what do you think would happen to daemons when their human is infected?

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// its the year of our lord 2023 and i lost the fucking game

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THE LAST OF US (2023-) #01.08 'When We Are In Need'

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ELLIE IS THE LITTLE GIRL WHO BROKE YOUR FUCKING FINGER

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this is what i’ve been working on for the last 4 days

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i used to feel bad for making bill good at a lot of things but like. realistically? yeah. he can be. I mean, im getting into macrame, into TAPESTY WEAVING(do not recommend), writing, drawing, animation, a little bit good at clay, acrylic pours, papermaking...

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"I like you older, older means we're still here."

An Independent & Selective Frank from HBO's The Last of Us

Multi-Verse & OC Friendly! NSFW Est. 2023 - Loved by Mishan

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Bill was so adorable...

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// Anyone wanna play minecraft with me? link leads to discord server where u can find all the relevant mod/etc info <: