archaic. : beauty or a beautiful thing.
-> slow updates.
¡brief mentions of sa, r4p3, and abuse.
no specific season/timeline. vaguely follows the show.
***when i started this, i had not finished the walking dead, or even got to the part where his...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
run.
run, run.
run was all she could tell herself.
outrun the herd.
save yourself.
her weak body, her long, shaky legs— her lungs expanding and falling at a quick pace.
she wasn't watching where she was going, and stumbled over a huge tree root. she cursed herself as she clutched her scraped knee and aching ankle.
'shit.' she thought. she was surrounded.
she forced herself up from the ground as they approached, and leaned herself against the tree, her knife in hand. as one got closer, she leaned back against the tree, and used her good legs to shut one of the walkers away, making it bump into another and fall.
she smiled victoriously, and quickly turned to shove her knife into another one's head. the squelching sound made her stomach turn almost as much as the smell did. she retrieved her knife, and went to go take care of the two she had kicked down- but one she hadn't seen lunged itself at her as she limped over.
it hovered over her, and she used all her strength to hold it where it was at. its rotten teeth chomped and chomped, trying to get ahold of some part of her— it was hungry.
just as she was about to give up, her arms shaky, and sore— the thing went limp, and stopped fighting. she looked up to see an arrow straight through it's skull.
mustering up her last bit of strength, she pushed the rotting bastard off, and sat herself up. she noticed a tall, beautiful woman standing not too far away from her- clad in some kind of armor. it look like cather's gear for baseball. she had blonde hair that was in a slicked back bun, and wielded a bow in her hand.
'my knight in shining armor.'
"are you alright?" she asked, which was replied with a nervous nod. "what are you doing out here?"
"surviving." the girl on the ground replied, eyes adverting to her skinned knee, hand traveling to feel her swollen ankle.
"what's your name? i'm dianne." she kneeled beside the girl, looking down at her injuries.
"uhm.. genevieve stewart." she whispered, feeling hot beneath the lady's gaze.
it'd been so long since she'd seen people— especially other women.
she'd escaped from the satellite outpost when it was hit by god knows who. she remembered thanking someone on her way out, after they cut her free from the ropes that tied her to her bed so she couldn't escape.
"are you one of the saviors?" dianne ripped off the bandage, her eyebrows furrowing together.
"fuck no. i hope they all rot. especially simon." genevieve scowled, and the older lady's face fell to a sympathetic look.
