katana-wielding-michonne - Tumblr blog

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Siddiq is the most relatable character at this point tbh

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Me, getting out of my subaru forester in the middle of the road, wearing a plaid button up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, mid-thigh shorts, and hiking boots, helping a turtle across the road: I wonder why this entire town thinks I'm a lesbian.

[katana-wielding-michonne]

I'm going on a five day trip to New Jersey with friends and my Dad texted me this morning before he left for work. He's never been super affectionate, so it's the little things.

[katana-wielding-michonne]

When the colonizers doubt you.

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Please don’t let this be the happiest part of the episode.

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Savage

[katana-wielding-michonne]

SAKLDJSKLŞDJASKLDJA MÜTHİŞ CEVAP

[katana-wielding-michonne]

hey gang im ordering 14 dollars worth of soda and nothing else from my local dominos

im thorsty

[katana-wielding-michonne]

this bitch empty

YEET

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Any Upstate Need Yorkers follow me? If you're close, come see this show! I'm in it, and you get to see if I can hit the high note.

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Michonne's footsteps were light on the warped wooden floor of the house. She would have been silent had it not been for a squeaky floorboard. When the noise broke the silence, she groaned inwardly and tensed, listening for a response from within the aging structure. Although there was nothing, she had the feeling that she may not be alone, so her hand remained on the grips of her katana strapped to her back.

Her sense was confirmed by the appearance of another human, nearly startling her. She took a moment to assess the situation. He didn't look like he was lying about the lack of supplies, but, even if he was, any supplies here would now be in his bag. Supply stealing wasn't high on her list of things she wanted to do today.

"Thanks for the heads up," she said, relaxing her posture. "Any luck at other places in the area?"

Supply Run || CLOSED ||

@katana-wielding-michonne

Hunting monsters was what he did since he was little, making him one of the lucky few that was more prepared for a mess like this. Still, it didn’t make the situation any more enjoyable. He still had to fight to live every single day, there were still people out there that he couldn’t save, but his own survival was more important. Helping others was what he did, but he couldn’t help anyone if he was dead. Baekhyun was out on another supply run, hoping to add more to his collection before time dragged on and made things even more scarce. Securing the house went smoother than he thought, but once he was ready to leave the sound of creaking floorboards instantly had him raising his gun. Feather light footsteps brought him closer to the door’s opening, lowering the weapon when he saw it was just another human. Tilting his head to the side the male tried to gauge just how wary he should be. Zombies were dangerous, but that didn’t mean his own kind weren’t just as deadly. 

“There’s nothing left here. Search it yourself if you want but I’m telling you it’s a waste of time. You’d better just get out of here before one of those things wander in here again.”

[katana-wielding-michonne]

tumblr meme culture is really just a form of neo dadaism

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Psst... all you Richonne lovers. Tears has a new chapter. You're welcome.

[katana-wielding-michonne]

sacrificesandpie:

Croatoan || {Michonne & Dean}

Calling on his trusty gritty discipline to suppress his unsteadiness, Dean glanced down at the canned item approaching his right boot before cutting a no-nonsense gaze sideways to meet the woman’s. He slowly took a deep breath, steeling himself through the sudden dizziness he felt as if his wound had chosen this clearly auspicious moment to start throbbing. The possibility that this other survivor could be one of the good ones left gave him the impetus to soften his posture, but not withdraw his fingers from the gun.

Don’t be stupid, Dean. She could pull a fast one on you yet.

The chastisement was in his father’s voice: John Winchester was a strict, leery man who would never win father of the year award, but who most definitely programmed Dean to be vigilant, always. The stern man by no means had raised his boys to be functional and well-adjusted, always enforcing Dean’s self-worth to be tied up in how well taken care of Sammy was, but at least the elder Winchester had helped Dean hone his skepticism in people, making the hunter well aware of how easy it was for someone to fuck you over, how easy it would be for anyone to just take anything and everything away from you.

And goddamnit, while we’re at it, just a reminder what a fuckery of a job you’ve done in keeping your brother safe-

Dean exhaled himself out of the castigating reverie just as the can reached the tip of his brown leather boot.

He lifted his chin in an acknowledgment to the woman who, it didn’t escape him, had postured herself defensively, while remaining her eye contact with Dean, and slow nodded at her words as the can wedged under his boot.

Maybe he could make this work. She seemed… willing enough, but… there was always a chance… The fact was he needed help. And maybe so did she.

Reconciliation would not mollify the tense situation, but his instincts were softening now as he felt lightheaded and took a moment to clear his head.

He wondered if he was too woozy to make it back outside to keep searching for a first aid kit. As the sweat formed over his brows, hell, he wasn’t even sure he knew which direction was which at this point as the fever started to take hold. He let his hand hang down away from his pistol and managed a small smile.

“Depends on what you are.” He swallowed hard as he considered her. If you’re a monster of any kind, i’ll have to kill you. “Do… did you happen to find any medical supplies,” He breathed shakily as the throbbing got worse. “I.. -think I’m about to battle some serious infection.” He made a movement to walk forward but immediate vertigo washed over him and Dean ended up slumping against a metal shelf, the can of beans accidentally kicked out under him, a slur of “Fuck” escaping his chapped lips.

Please don’t be a bad person, please.

She could easily take him out right now as he spiraled into fever if that’s what she wanted to do.

“Need some help.” Dean said softly from where he leaned uncomfortably against the shelving

The pain was intense enough to make him scream.

@sacrificesandpie

Mere seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as Michonne waited for the man’s reaction. Her muscles tensed with the situation, ready to bolt, or fight, or react on whatever primal instinct had been passed down from generation to generation with one purpose- to keep them all alive.

The stress of the moment broke as the can rolled under his foot, and Michonne realized what state he was in. He was impaired in some way, from what, she couldn’t tell. Dehydration and starvation were notorious for those symptoms.

But then, his hand moved from his gun, and he let known his state.

Infection. The word set off alarms in her head. If it was infectious, she had to get away. And, if it was the infection...

No. It couldn’t be that. She’d seen those cases up close. The fever, the weakness, the dementia. The skin would burn up, then start to chafe and peel away, leaving the dying with grotesque exposed wounds. How such a terrible thing could exist was beyond her understanding. She’d watched it wreak havoc on the tiniest of bodies, saw the baby fat burn away in a day, watched the perfect innocent face peel and warp until he looked nothing like her or his father. She tried to keep him comfortable, but he was always starving. The hunger...

She couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t let those thoughts close, or risk being trapped in the past with danger in the present. She looked at the man leaning against the shelves and decided two things; he was not infected by the dead, and she was going to make sure he didn’t end up with them anyway.

“I’m gonna help you,” Michonne said, cautiously approaching him. She reached out and held his arm to allow him to sit on the floor without falling.

Once he was no longer at risk of a head injury, she knelt down next to him and began to rummage through her bag. In barely any time at all, she produced a bottle of water and a prescription of Amoxicillin for an Andre Miller. Both water and a dose of the antibiotic were in his hand just as quickly as they’d appeared.

“I’m going to secure this place and see if I can find something to bring down your fever,” she said softly, the prior coldness missing from her voice. “But, I need to know what caused your infection. For both our sakes.”

Croatoan || closed rp with sacrificesandpie

[katana-wielding-michonne]

Reblog in 20 seconds or this spider will appear in your bed tonight

[katana-wielding-michonne]

[katana-wielding-michonne]