Synopsis:You’d follow him to the end of the world, you promised, only to realize how silly the words sounded with the current state of life- not to mention, you had said the same to Petra, a girl that met her fate with zombies gnawing the flesh of her thigh.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: zombies, gore, blood, minor injuries, explicit language, mentions of death
When you were twelve, you promised Petra you’d follow her to the ends of Earth, even if the world had gone to shit- you’d follow her.
Looking below you now, growling corpses walking the streets of Paradis; one of the most populated cities, it began to feel almost taunting. Had you manifested this? Of course not, you were a naive twelve year old, but it was too ironic.
Petra walked in front of you, baseball bat clutched tightly in her scar riddled hands. The wind caused strands of her golden hair to fly to the right, escaping the messy bun she had done hours ago. “Hey, wait up!” you called out, having fallen behind more than what you considered comfortable.
She came to a halt, turning as the corners of her mouth lifted, “Aren’t you afraid of heights?” Throughout the whole ordeal, Petra had never lost her smile, you admired her for it; you lost yours on the second day. “Keep up, we only have so much sun, y’know.” and off she was, continuing with her fast pace, leaping from roof to roof.
You groaned, fighting the urge to claim the cement floor beneath you and sleep, but Petra was right, she had never been wrong. “Alright, alright.”
The gaps in-between roofs were small due to the sheer amount of buildings they had stuffed together, but still big enough that one slip would leave you a soon-to-be zombie. “Be careful not to fall,” a useless warning, but it became tradition.
A few rooftops away from home, your leg lost balance, the slant of the roof propelling you forward as your hand desperately clawed the ground, tearing the end of your nails off as a terrified scream fell from your lips, “Petra!”-but it wasn’t enough as you hit the edge, legs rolling over and off the side. “Fuck,” you cursed, bloodied fingers digging into the ledge as you tried to pull yourself up.
Zombies piled below you, the scream from moments ago attracting them. Their groaning and growling added to your fear, one slip up and you’re zombie chow.
It was inconvenient, but you were able to graze your tip toes over what seemed to be an edge on the building.
The yell of your name pulled your attention back from the hoard below, you saw Petra running back to you, skillfully jumping over the openings. “Are you okay- Holy shit, your hand.” she mumbled, dropping to her knees as she hastily pulled you up, careful of causing any more damage. “Shit,” her eyes ran over your fingers, the blood made it look worse than it felt. “you okay? What happened back there?”
Her worried questions fell upon deaf ears- you’d almost died, moments after telling Petra to be careful, you almost fucking died. “How far are we?” your eyes met her wide ones. “I don’t think I messed anything up too bad, my damn fingers hurt, though.”
A strangled laugh forced its way through her as she looked behind her, a sloppy trail of blood from where your fingers tried to catch flat ground showed, “Yeah, I bet.” she held your head in her lap, fingers brushing through your dark, matted hair, looking down at you with a small smile. “Just a few more roofs away, I’d say five more minutes.”
The sun blinded you, Petra’s head doing little to block it out. It was a beautiful day, couldn’t have been less than sixty degrees.
You brought yourself to your feet with the help of Petra, blood staining the front of her pale blue shirt, you shot her an apologetic glance. That was one of the few shirts she owned.
“If I thought I was over my fear,” you started, examining your fingers: the tips had stopped bleeding, but it looked like someone had taken a cheese-grater to them. “Then I was dead wrong.”
Your pun flew over her head or she just didn’t find it funny. Either way, your laughter was cut short as you looked up.
The sky was a light orange, any other circumstance and it would have been beautiful; but with the world burning below it, you couldn’t help but curse the universe and its ability to create something so pretty at a time like this.
“Let’s get home,” she urged, the darkening sky made it harder to spot the openings between buildings and with your luck, you’d fall through. “Don’t want to have to sleep on a roof, again.”
It was meant as a joke, but the silence following showed neither of you took it as such.
Right before you found the apartments, there had been one other in your small group: Annie. The three of you felt unstoppable, spending all your nights sleeping on whatever roof gave you the best ocean view.
In the end, it seemed zombies always won, taking away the people you love with no second thought.
Thinking about her brought tears to your eyes, she was your best friend of fifteen years and you killed her, or at least what was left of her after the zombies had their taste. “Fuckin’ zombies.”
Petra agreed. It was a loss for her too, having known Annie for the better part of ten years. “Fucking zombies,” she repeated, picking her bat up from the ground.
Trailing behind, you watched stars appear in the sky, one by one. Now that there was less pollution, the stars were brighter; one of the few rewards of the Apocalypse, if you could call it such.
A full moon lit the sky, marking the completion of a cycle. Soon there will be a waxing crescent moon, one of your favorites- you can only hope you’ll live to see it with your best friend by your side.
“Last one,” Petra announced, jumping over the opening. “Your turn, be careful.“
Launching off the edge with your right leg, you landed on your left, falling straight to the cement with a hiss, hugging your knee to your chest. “Ouch.”
A few moments of you not moving later, arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you to your feet. “C’mon, wanna sleep,” Petra whined, pushing the green, metal door open.
The sound of metal against concrete was unpleasant, tonight it seemed louder than usual.
Twelve stairs ascend down from the green door, you’d memorized the number the first day in case of emergency. “I’ll help you,” an arm wrapped around your waist, allowing most of your weight to rest on them as you walked- no, limped down the stairs.
One
Two
Three
Four
Fiv-
A clunking noise sounded from the floor below, echoing up the stairs. Metal against metal you noted, nothing a zombie could make.
“Did you hear that?” Petra whispered, arm tightening around you, ready to take off and drag you to the roof at any given moment.
Your breath was caught in your throat, heart hammering against your chest.
“Maybe something fell over?” The thought did little to soothe your fears, knowing even if something had fallen, someone or something was prowling too close for comfort. “Let’s just get inside our room, lock the doors, and put a chair up against them.”
“And trap ourselves!?” she yelled in a hushed tone, brown eyes glued to what little you could see of the staircase through the barricade. “I say we roof hop, find a new place. Mayb-”
You silenced her, shaking your head as you spoke. “No, our room is right by the ladder, remember? Anything happens, we can leave- but I’m in no condition to be traveling.”
God, she hated it when you were right. “Fine, but I hear it again and we are gone. Understood?”
A compliant ‘yes’ left your lips, Petra was the unofficial leader.
Rarely had there been a disagreement between the two of you. Ever since Annie, she had taken it upon herself to keep you safe, seeing as you were the youngest at twenty. Annie being twenty-one and Petra twenty-three.
She reminded you of your mother, occasionally. The way she doted on you, checking you for injuries every time you went somewhere.
Chairs stacked against the doors, underneath the handles. Petra worked tirelessly to secure the rooms and doors, making sure no one could kick them down, convinced the noise was caused by the living.
“I swear I heard talking, the living aren’t like how they used to be,” she rambled, locking the bedroom door and placing a black, wooden chair underneath the silver handle. “They don’t have laws preventing them from killing- there isn’t a justice system for them to fear.”
The wall behind you was cold on your exposed back, the ridges in the paint poking at your skin.
Turning to Petra, you let your head fall against the wall. “Tra,” you sighed, breaking her from her nervous pacing. “Why would people clear every floor of an apartment building? Not even we did, for all we know some dead fucker knocked something over.”
“The voices- what about the voices I heard!?” Tears pooled in her dark eyes, she was having a panic attack. “You’re injured, can you even climb down the ladder- oh my god, your fingers.” Words flew from her mouth, worries spilling out like a broken faucet.
Your hand caught the back of her shirt, tugging her onto the bed. “Calm down, I can climb and run if I need to and my fingers,” you held them out, blood staining the skin around the nail. “are fine, some rubbing alcohol and a hand wash will fix ‘em up, Tra.”
Her fingers tangled in her hair, palms pressed flat against her face. Blonde fly-aways blowing forward, the open window allowing a breeze to pass through the room. “I just..” she paused, looking over to you. “I worry about you, about us.”
The quiet rustling and groaning of the zombies below became somewhat comforting over the months, it was a constant in a life of variables.
“I am twenty years old,” you giggled, attempting to lighten the mood. “Not a reckless fourteen year old. I can take care of myself, too.”
Blonde hair clouded your vision, Petra had placed her head on your shoulder, hand intertwining with your own. “I know,” she mumbled, “But after Annie..” she didn’t have to continue for you to understand: she couldn’t lose you too.
Change the subject, you thought. Focusing on Annie for too long will make you cry, the wound was still too fresh. “What do you think…y’know, started all this?” It was a frequent conversation you had, each time leading closer to an answer. “I still think biological warfare.”
Silence coated the room, hanging heavy in the air. “I feel like it was just an experiment gone wrong, like someone mixed the wrong vials or something.”
Your back slid down the wall, meeting the softness of the mattress underneath the purple sheets. “That’s so boring,” you groaned, looking up at her. “Besides, this feels intentional. Like, how do you not only ‘accidently’ make a zombie, but spread the virus too?”
The bed creaked as Petra moved down, becoming eye level with you. She watched you with her honey colored eyes, studying your face- memorizing every dimple and divot.
She placed her thumb on your cheek, caressing the skin, noting the scar underneath your eye: small and delicate, thin like a paper cut.
To the right of her thumb, there was a scar, you could feel it as it drug against your skin. If you had to guess, it was within the last seven or so months, seeing as Petra had smooth hands before the Apocalypse.
“One day, you’ll find out,” she paused, eyes closing- pulling her thumb away from your face, before continuing. “I’m sure of it. Now get some sleep, I’ll listen for new noises.”
You smiled, an act reserved for Petra alone. "Love you, try not to stay up all night” you whisper, pulling the gray, wool blanket close to your face.
“No promises,” she grins, moving closer to your body. “Love you too.”
Synopsis:You’d follow him to the end of the world, you promised, only to realize how silly the words sounded with the current state of life- not to mention, you had said the same to Petra, a girl that met her fate with zombies gnawing the flesh of her thigh.
Warnings: Eventual smut, explicit language, zombie apocalypse, minor character death, blood & gore, violence, weapons, minor & serious injuries, hurt/comfort
Levi Ackerman’s life can only be described by using two words: domestic bliss. When a ghost from Levi’s past visits him, his family’s life takes an unexpected turn.
Postwar Rivetra in Marley with a pinch of Kenny Ackerman in their lives
Their new lives with Kenny by their side lived up to Levi’s expectations: he was exhausted. He had missed his old man’s presence in his life over the years, but now he would laugh at his former self for having such feelings after getting a glimpse of how it could have turned out if Kenny had stuck by his side. Levi appreciated all the quiet years he had known before the present day, even with the war. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but even dealing with Eren seemed a simpler task nowadays. Fortunately for Kenny, Levi’s violent ways of discipline were a thing of the past, all thanks to his loving wife.
The disarray his life had turned into truly hit him when he woke one morning, and his day had already been ruined before it had even begun. He’d been looking forward to having Petra all to himself for yet another day before the children’s return from Paradise, and he had even told Kenny not to show his face around there. Any joy he’d felt was quickly sucked out of him the moment he saw the junk in his garden- an old metal trailer, rusty and as gross-looking as his uncle sat in the middle of their yard. If his uncle could afford to live in a trailer, why was he bunking with them? The man stormed downstairs from the bathroom, or as best as he could storm when he had one crutch in hand, the other hand holding the handrail with a deathly grip. He needed some answers. But his oblivious wife just stood in the kitchen, cooking some breakfast for the two of them.
“Have you seen that shit in our garden?” He scoffed in disbelief.
“Oh, the trailer?” Petra responded, ignorant to the annoyance in her husband’s voice. And Petra, not being as clueless about the whole situation, only seemed to irritate Levi further when she casually spoke about it.
“Are you telling me you’re fine with it?!” Sometimes she made him wonder why they had gotten married in the first place. That was until he glimpsed at her warm, beautiful, amber eyes and forgot about it all, even his own name. Petra knew how dramatic Levi was with personal space and cleanliness, so she never took his harsh words to heart. She had expected this response when she’d agreed to let Kenny move the trailer into their yard, sure that Kenny knew what he was doing by asking her and not his nephew.
“Not even the whiskey can keep these old bones warm anymore,” Kenny had argued with her.
“He can’t sleep in a tent all winter, Levi,” was Petra’s final answer. She would not let Kenny freeze to death in the makeshift tent their kids had come up with during the summer, no matter what Levi had to say on the matter. Admittedly, she hadn’t been so keen on the idea at first, as that was less space for their children to play, but Kenny had swayed her.
“Sure he can. He lived in the Underground, remember? I’m sure he’s slept in worse places.” Even nowadays, he dreamt of the dump he and Kenny used to call home. An old, dirty mattress that Kenny dared to call a bed was all he offered Levi when he took him in.
“It’s that or our couch,” was all Petra had to say to put an end to the argument. Levi could just imagine it: Kenny laying on his couch, pants off, with a cigarette in his hand and a beer bottle in the other, spilling everything on his precious yellow suede. As always, Petra had won the battle.
Levi Ackerman’s life can only be described by using two words: domestic bliss. When a ghost from Levi’s past visits him, his family’s life takes an unexpected turn.
Postwar Rivetra in Marley with a pinch of Kenny Ackerman in their lives
Levi sighed in exasperation as he looked through the kitchen cupboards, brows furrowing as the empty spot where his favourite tea biscuits usually sat mocked him again. He was quickly growing tired of this infestation. First, it had been some bread and then some cheese, and before they knew it, they would notice a little something missing every morning. But his favourite biscuits? That was where he drew the line.
“It’s probably the kids’ carelessness; I’m sure they just forget,” his dear wife always told him, brushing off his misfortunes. Little did she know of the extent of his worry, the countless nights he had lost thinking of the little devils roaming around freely in his spotless home. His life in the Underground had taught him to avoid the little disease carriers, and his skin crawled at the idea of sharing a place with them. The multiple traps that Petra had set out clearly weren’t doing the trick, but his own methods hadn’t been very successful either, as he grimly recalled that one shameful night that Petra would never let him forget.
Levi had been on a mission that night to finally spot the little scoundrels terrorizing his home and his family. Mostly him, really, not that he would ever admit it. He had come up with what he believed to be a foolproof plan to catch them. After making sure Petra and the kids were in deep slumber, the man had gotten up in the middle of the night to get everything set up. He chose the perfect bait, some stinky cheese that he usually would never dare to bring into the house, but made an exception this once. He had set it out on the countertop in plain sight to hopefully gather all the pesky rats in one spot. And then he waited, hidden away behind a sofa where he would be out of sight but could quickly jump into action when the time called. He had been ready with artillery, too: a broom in one hand and an old metal bucket in the other to swat the little beasts into their hell. One thing that was not supposed to be part of his rat hunting uniform: Petra’s floral nightgown. But the odds were against him that night. Colder conditions than he was accustomed to and his wife’s tendency to be roused easily forced him into a choice he would always regret.
After deciding to give Paradise another chance, the last place Levi expects to find the woman he never dared confess his love to is a retirement home. Levi works up the courage to rekindle the old flame between him and Petra.
Fall had gone by rather uneventfully. There was a bit of a change in their usual routine, as Petra soon traded flower picking for mushroom gathering, much to Levi’s misery.
“I’m not putting that shit in my mouth.”
Petra laughed as she pushed the mushroom further in his face, earning one of his infamous nose scrunches. He was adorable when he was acting so stubborn. Petra had been doing this all her life and had never made someone ill with the ones she chose. Her father had taught her well enough.
“I would never poison you, Levi.”
He was not usually one to refuse food since he knew first-hand the effects of its scarcity, but mushrooms had always been a no-go for him. As delicious as people claimed they were, Levi could never carelessly eat something that could kill you so simply.
“Not on purpose, at least,” she whispered between giggles.
Levi rolled away from her, not paying any mind to her protests to return. The ones she got out between the laughing fits, that was.
“You’re on your own if a bear comes,” he yelled as he put more distance between them.
“Wait, there are bears in these forests?” He could sense the terror in her voice as she ran up by his side. Not that he could do much to help if a bear did actually come. But truthfully, he knew nothing about it, but she deserved it for mocking his fear of mushrooms.
“Maybe you could just stare at the bear until it goes away. I’m sure it’ll be frightened.”
“Stop acting like a brat,” he warned her as he led her to a place where he had spotted more of those devils.
Did an art collab with @citri-nate (who did the color while I did the lineart), check out their art on their account and also check out the other art collab we switched around.
I really like color captures the atmosphere & weather in this
Im melting every time I see them what a fluffy AU.
Petra looks rightfully scared, she was such a good character ;_;…
Aaaah!!!!!! Zeia this is gorgeous!!! This sweet soul got erased in the mess of Tumblr and now they are back. Small boost!!!!!!!! They got amazing skills!!! Check them out!!!!!!! (´⊙ω⊙`)
