Tommy and Tubbo's Survival Guide to the End of The World

The Journal

hello, yes, apoc au, tws are blood and death. this is probably the only tw you're going to get bc i dont want to spoil when smne dies

will mostly be from tommys pov okay have fun

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??? POV

My legs are tired from trudging through the seemingly endless muck, water having found its way into my shoes and making loud squashing sounds with every step I take. My breath has been labored for a while now, and I can't help but question how much longer I'll be able to stand for.

The answer was apparently two seconds, because as soon as the thought of a break crossed my mind, my knees buckled out from under me, landing me face first into the muddy ground. I splutter as I try to regain my footing, but it's much too slippery, and I'm much too tired.

So instead of continuing my journey through the unforgiving swamp, I scoot myself over to a crumbled building that sticks out in the murky lake surrounding me, cupping water from what seems to be a relatively cleaner puddle to my thirsty lips. I lay against the broken wall, gasping and shivering as I stare into the sun, still hovering mercilessly above at midday.

There is nothing prominent in view besides a fire truck turned onto its side, not a single person in sight apart from me. Of course, that's not very reassuring, as I remember my most recent encounter I had with other people. The wound on my leg that made my walk look more like a hobble should have been more than enough reason to find a more hidden place to take a break at, but like a fool, I remain. My gaze lingers back to the firetruck, its bright red sticking out against the dull browns, greens, and blues of its surroundings, although I couldn't t decide if it was pretty or not.

My eyes felt like drooping the longer I stared at it, my long trek finally beginning to take its hold on me. And it would have to, if I hadn't spotted it.

With great effort and an embarrassing amount of time, I trudged over to a briefcase tied carefully onto the ladder of the truck with the hose. It was battered and quite clearly very used, but seemed to be keeping out the water just fine. But the briefcase itself wasn't what made me gasp. It was what was written on it, in big, scribblish letters.

PROPERTY OF TOMMYINNIT. I WILL KNOW IF YOU ■■■■ WITH MY ■■■■.

The words 'Fuck' and 'Shit' had been scratched out so that they were near illegible, and while they were clearly meant to be threatening, I couldn't help but chuckle as I gingerly untie the sturdy knot, being careful to not let it fall as I gently bring it into my arms. More laughter fills my aching lungs as I turn it over, a tear threatening to form as well.

The back of the briefcase was mostly filled with childish scribbling and doodles etched into the the metal with what appeared to be a knife. One phrase leapt out to me. It was a small, almost meaningless phrase, but it was the name that caused me to clutch the briefcase to my chest in an awkward sort of hug as I limped my way back to where I had been seated before.

Hɘllo! I'm Tubbo! :D

The backwards 'e' had a smaller, correct 'e' above it in the same writing as the front, clearly made by Tommy. A warm smile graced my lips as I clicked open the briefcase, that despite having such a threatening front, seemed so childish. I wasn't quite sure what I expected when I opened the briefcase, but for some reason, the sight made me cry alongside my smile.

It was a book.

The handwriting on the cover was clearly Tommy's, with a little note on the bottom with backwards letters and a few misspelled words, which I presume was Tubbo's. Many questions raced through my mind as I gently pried it from the briefcase with my fingers, being careful not to let my shaking let the book fall into the water.