headmaster-ozpimp:

jayem-bee-bonello:

firsT PART OF AN ART TRADE WITH THIS NERD (don’t ask me sad stuff again because hahaha guess what i’m a sucker for death scenes hahahaha) i’m not sure about glynda’s face tho i wanted to use that angle real bad and looks like i fucked up i’m sor ry /runs away

I MADE A FIC FOR HUNTRESS-GLYNDA-GOODWITCH AND I’M POSTING IT HERE BC THIS IS MY HALF OF THE ART TRADE ANYWAYS YEEHAW

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Hot, popping flames crackled in his ears, the headmaster staring straight ahead at his reflection in the shop window. Streaks and billows of red fluttered in the background around his ruffled and startled frame, which was hunched over and stiff from the impact of the blast. His singed hair stuck to the blood pooling out of the gash in his forehead, vision swimming as he tugged at the clothes clutching onto the contours of his body, damp with blood and sweat.

In the background he could hear the screeching of sirens, which spurred Ozpin to slowly turn, facing the damaged and destroyed car. The car alarm bellowed, and he blinked dumbly a few times, taking a few hesitant steps forward. A horrible pain seared from his bum leg, yet he managed to ignore it, coughing up ash and muck as he stared at the wreckage.

Something snapped in his mind, everything falling before him as he suddenly frantically looked, desperate to find his friend. A cry left his lips, scrambling forward again to stare at the flames shooting up towards the sky, but he moved his gaze to the left only slightly, seeing a huddled mess a few feet away from the crash. At the sight of the woman, he moved quickly, sliding down to her side.

“Glynda…” Ozpin breathed out, his hands shaking above her broken form. The disgusting red burns assaulted his vision, making him choke and cry out as he looked down at her face, eyes staring blankly ahead at the spitting fire coming from the car. “Glynda! Can you hear me?! Glynda?”

“Henkle…?” Glynda blinked slowly, turning her head towards him to give him a weak little smile, appearing delirious and confused. “H-Have you seen my pocketbook? I left it in the car…oh dear…all of my trinkets and jewelry are there…I can’t let them take my pocketbook…Ozpin where is my pocketbook? I need…”

“Shh.” Ozpin hushed her, stroking his fingers shakily across her scalded cheek, feeling tears well up at her condition. Hot liquid brushed against his knees, pooling out from shards of scrap metal in her belly. The sensation startled him, and he carefully nudged her. “Come on…snap out of it Glynda. You’re going to be fine, my dear.”

Glynda continued to stare into space, unable to pay attention as the man began to put pressure on her wounds, struggling to plug up the gaping wounds. Blood seeped past his fingers, making him turn away from the sight as he looked back at her face.

She now locked eyes with him, irises glazed over as she coughed weakly, wheezing heavily and struggling to breathe. “…the…car…”

“It was an explosion. A car bomb…thank god we weren’t in it. We’re going to be fine.” Ozpin whispered, breathing deeply himself. Everything spun, but he struggled to stay focused, making sure that this woman would survive and be fine. “Shh…don’t worry…we’re going to be jut fine…just keep breathing and focus on my voice…

“Someone! Please! Help us!” Ozpin wailed, looking around desperately on the dark street. Yet nothing answered his call, except for the pops and sizzles from the fire behind them. He trembled, looking back down at Glynda, who seemed to be drifting off. “No, no, no…please no. Stay awake, Glynda!”

“Ozpin…” Glynda wheezed, her breaths coming in carefully and raspily, as if breathing through a straw. She raised trembling arms, stretching out towards him. Ozpin felt himself stiffen up as her fingers brushed against his neck, his jaw, then his cheeks. “Please…can you hold me? I’m so terribly cold.”

“Glynda…” Ozpin whimpered, his face twisting up in anguish, tears beginning to spill and fall down his scarred face. “…G-Glynda…Glynda…” he repeated over and over like a mantra, tenderly working his arms under her shattered back and lifting her up, cradling her closely to his chest. He shook, coughing again as he buried his face against hers, squeezing his eyes shut. “No…dear god…Glynda…please hold on…oh god Glynda…”

Her head bobbed a few times, before resting against him, her arms limply around his neck. “…Ozpin…” she whispered out once more, before feeling herself falling into a deep darkness, limp in his arms now.

The car exploded behind him, masking his wails of anguish.