#its not even that deep but we be noticin

[pewpewpugh]

My Roommate's Sister: Part 3

"What are you going to wear for your date?" Arabella asked me, strolling into my room without even knocking on the door. I was staring at my wardrobe, trying to decide on an outfit but not settling on anything. I had dresses, jeans and shirts thrown around the room, my draws were wide open. I threw myself on the bed dramatically, and groaned.

"I can't find an outfit"

Bella laughed as she walked around my room picking up my disregarded clothes and hanging them back on hangers. I had my eyes closed, but I could sense her cogs turning, she was in thinking mode.

"Soph" she said cheerfully, "I've found your outfit"

I sat up and looked at her curiously. She'd hung the rest of my clothes back in the wardrobe, but left out a cream top and a black skater skirt. She'd even gone as far as putting the shoes for the outfit below the skirt, which were my thick heeled black boots. It was actually perfect.

"If I know the both of you like I think I do, you're going to look HOT and Florence won't be able to take her eyes off of you... and if you let me do your make up she won't be able to keep her ha-"

"Woah! Okay! Don't finish that sentence about your sister!" I interrupted Arabella, laughing at her expression when she realised what she was about to say.

"Sorry" she smirked, "I'm so used to talking to you about the other girls you've dated that I actually forgot for a second that you're going on a date with my sister" she grabbed my make up bag and started emptying the contents. I put my hair in to a bun on the top of my head and turned to face her properly so that she could concentrate on my make up.

"Are you nervous?" She asked as she finished the last touch of powder.

"A little" I admitted, turning to face the mirror and releasing my hair from its bobble, letting it flow beneath my shoulders.

"I don't think you need to be." Arabella span my chair back around so that I was now looking at her again "I saw how she looked at you yesterday, and the day before that, and every other day this week. Don't be fooled, she's been here every day and it hasn't been to see me."

"I know... I just... I have a history of screwing up, especially when I really like someone. And I like, really like her"

Arabella smiled at me as we heard a knock on the front door. She must have seen the panic on my face, as in a second I was off the chair and in her arms.

"Good luck" she whispered in my ear before she pulled away, "I'll still be awake when... if you come home, so I'm excited to hear all about it"

I guess it was show time.

———————————————————

Florence took me to the new Italian restaurant that had opened in the city. It was posh, and expensive, and I was worried that I wouldn't be able to afford anything on the menu. I was also worried I wouldn't know what to talk about, or that I'd do something dumb and embarrass myself.

"What's the worst pick-up line anyone's ever used on you?" I asked grinning as I turned my fork and collected the pasta from my bowl. I'd had a glass of wine and was feeling a little braver about being in Florences company for the first time without Arabella being there too.

Florence took a sip from her straw and made a face that showed she was deep in thought. Then she giggled, which had quickly become my favourite sound in the world. In the short amount of time that I've known this girl, she was seriously making me question whether it was oxygen I needed to breathe, or if I could survive solely on her existence.

"Um, I did have one guy at school ask me to the Halloween dance by saying..." she paused and cringed at the thought, "He said, hey Florence... I don't have a halloween costume, y'know for the dance, but can I go as your boyfriend instead?" she imitated the guy, shuddering at the still-mortifying-to-this-day, moment from years ago.

"Wait, a guy?" I snorted at the thought, quickly turning a crimson as I realised what I'd done. I looked away from Florence in embarrassment, but when I eventually looked back at her after noticing the silence between us, she was staring at me with a look. I don't even know how to explain it, but it was something similar to how a child looks at ice cream, or how I look at any dog I see. In awe. I blushed even more, and looked away again.

The waitress came to the table and cleared our plates. I heard Florence ask for the bill, and looked up just in time to see her move herself around the booth so that she was sat right beside me.

"Hey" I heard softly from my right. I looked at her and smiled. She was so close.

"Hey"

"Don't go shy on me now, pretty girl"

The waitress came back and put the bill down. Before I could even blink, Florence had it in her hand and was paying for our meals. I even noticed as she dipped into her purse and left a tip, I did the same. I watched as she leant back and shrugged into her jacket.

"You ready to go?"

"Mhm." I hummed, following Florence closely out of the diner. We walked in silence for a few minutes before we came to the entrance of the park. Instead of walking past the gates towards the car, Flo hooked her arm through mine and lead me along the path leading to the lake. I broke the silence first as we sat on the bench opposite the water. Her hands were now in her pockets, her face hiding behind the scarf around her neck.

"You didn't have to do that, you know"

She furrowed her brows at my words. She looked worried, which she had no reason to be. She hadn't done a thing wrong, she had been perfect all night.

"To pay... I mean"

The blonde bit her bottom lip and stared at the ground. "I wanted to" she lifted her face from behind the scarf but was staring at the lake, "I asked you out on the date, I chose the restaurant. I just wanted you to have a good time... I, I had a really good time tonight"

———————————————————

Before I knew it, we were stood outside of my apartment door. I couldn't believe how quickly the date had gone, or how well it had gone, or how much this girl was making me feel.

"Thank you for agreeing to go on a date with me" Florence whispered, being mindful of the neighbours and a probably earwigging Arabella at the other side of the door. The light from the living room was shining underneath the door, so I knew she'd at least attempted to stay up and wait for me to get home.

"Thank you for asking me"

The grin on Florences face quickly turned into a beautiful full smile. She held my gaze which sent my brain and feelings into overdrive.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?" She asked so quietly I almost didn't catch what she'd said. I couldn't speak, but I nodded in response and she closed the gap between us. One hand cupped my face, the other grasping my arm softly. The kiss was soft. It was slow. It felt like it lasted forever and only a second at the same time. It was perfect. Florence pulled away first, her forehead leaning against mine. Her eyes were closed, and when they fluttered open I saw it. Feelings.

"I'm going to be a gentleman and not come into the apartment tonight... but I'll see you soon?"

"Are you asking me on a second date?"

"Yeah... I'd like that. If... but only if you want to?"

I kissed her one last time slowly, before pulling away, my hand already on the door handle ready to go inside.

"I'd love to"

Florence stood and watched me head into the apartment, her fingertip lightly touching her lips where I'd just been. She was still there watching me as I closed the door completely.

The tv was playing quietly in the living room when I walked in. Arabella was curled into a ball on the sofa, the remote still in her hands. There was a bowl of half eaten popcorn on the table, a glass of wine now empty beside it. Looks like she'd had a fun night.

"hey, B" I nudged her slightly, "Bella, I'm back"

One eye opened to glare at me. Sitting up slowly, she stretched out, cracking bones as she did and moved across the sofa giving me room to sit down.

"How was your date?" she mumbled half asleep.

"Perfect. I didn't want it to end"

#florence pugh x reader #florence x reader #florence pugh x you #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh imagine

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.9 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Enter the Other Brother. Blue, welcome home! You might be in for a surprise!

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge was not a Monster who cared very much for surprises. In his experience, they never led to anything good, not to birthday parties or unexpected gifts, but rather ambushes and dust. He preferred careful planning to the seat-of-the-pants schemes that his brother often came up with, every step made with strategy in mind.

He couldn’t say for certain if Blue was the same way, although he suspected he may be. His understanding of how the alternate worlds worked was more for the layman rather than the professional, but he wasn’t blind to the personality traits that he and Blue shared, the sort of twist in nature vs nurture that any sociologist would love to explore.

He had a fair idea of how he might react to finding this clown car of a domestic scene in his own living room and if he’d known that Stretch hadn’t even mentioned he and Red were here, much less the baby, he would have at least sent Blue a blasted text.

That might have at least braced him and given him a chance to come up with a better question than simply, “Is that a baby?”

His brother, ever the peacemaker, chose that precise to speak up, scoffingly, “sure can tell you two are brothers, ya share the same brain cell, your bro said the same damn thing. yeah, it’s a baby, good on you for noticin’.”

“blue!” Stretch scrambled upright and his bright grin was too wide, too wrong, tinged with poorly hidden guilt. “sorry, bro, i was gonna call and it slipped my mind. yeah, hey, everyone showed up on our doorstep yesterday. check out the snow princess, cute, huh?”

That much at least was the truth, but Blue didn’t seem to have heard a word of it. This wasn’t quite the reaction Edge had been braced for; he’d expected Blue to make a beeline for the baby, had been resigned to handing her over for plenty of excited cuddling and cooing.

This was something else entirely. The normal stars of his eye lights were overly bright, flashing between blue and yellow with seizure inducing intensity, set into a face that was like stone. He barely glanced at the rest of them past a brief, bizarrely sympathetic glance at Edge. The anger in his gaze was for his brother alone.

Stretch seemed equally confused, his oversized smile faltering, “bro?”

“How could you?” Blue said, his voice carrying despite its deadly softness.

“wha…me?” Stretch looked around the room as if perhaps another person had appeared, that it was to this stranger his brother spoke that way. He shrank back as Blue abruptly moved, slamming the door shut as he stalked over to the sofa, his small body radiating fury.

“How could you!?” Again, louder this time, not quite a shout but verging on one.

“coulda woulda shoulda? bro, what the hell—”

Blue ignored that, stamping his foot and sending out a spatter of rapidly melting snow from his boot to dampen the carpet. “Irresponsible!”

Stretch’s face was falling, going oddly blank, his false humor fading. Next to him, Red looked equally perturbed. “now hang on a sec, short stuff, ain’t no reason to go off on the honey bun.”

“Stay out of this!” Blue snapped and for a wonder, Red jerked back, his mouth snapping shut. His eye lights briefly guttered, leaving his sockets dark and black, returning only when Stretch spoke up next to him.

“yeah. stay out of this,” Stretch agreed, softer but no less sharp and from the look he shot Edge, he was included in that statement.

Edge said nothing and even the child was silent, a dab of runny banana sliding down her chin as she stared at the Swap brothers with wide sockets. Even if he’d wanted to intrude, this argument was between brothers and it was an unspoken rule through all the ‘verses that one did not interfere with brothers.

Despite the surface similarities, none of their relationships were exactly the same. Edge knew all too well that if he railed at Red over his laziness, his brother never took it to heart or soul. He let Edge rant, blowing off the steam that built within him throughout the day and his frustrated insults rolled off Red like water off the proverbial duck. The only fallout tended to be yet another sticky note added to the continuing line trailing away from a single, absurd sock.

Stretch was, well, lacking waterproofing. More like Edge in that way, truth be told, and if Edge could snipe at his brother all day long for his ridiculous puns and lazy ways, one genuine return jab from Red often left him deeply wounded, all the more painful for its unerring accuracy and rarity.

He wondered how he’d handle being under the weight of that much visible disappointment. Edge almost always agreed with Blue’s assessments of his brother’s behavior, but his delivery needed work and the unexpected impulse to protect Stretch from that disappointment took him off guard. He wanted to scoop Stretch up like he did the baby, hold him close, cradle him in his arms and protect him, and that was ridiculous, utterly; he was an adult, older than Edge, and yet the urge remained.

In the end, Edge could only look away, stirring the gloopy remains of the banana while the two brothers whispered furiously behind him.

“Of all the careless, irresponsible—” Blue took a deep breath, let it out, muttering out, “This is all right, this is fine. We can deal with this.” He scrubbed his gloved hands over his face and then squared his shoulders as he said, “You still should have called me.”

“probably,” Stretch agreed, and perhaps the unexpected storm had passed. He relaxed back into the sofa, the tension in the room easing. “didn’t want to interrupt your important training.” He flashed Edge a sharp glance and he tried to look as if that was the exact reasoning.

“Yes, well, that’s true,” Blue admitted. “And I appreciate you thinking of that, but next time…well, there probably won’t be a next time of this, I should hope.” Any lingering worry that Blue might object to them staying for a time vanished as Blue finally swung back to the baby, this time with a familiar, bright smile on his face as he gushed out, “Which is a shame because she is simply adorable!”

He rounded the coffee table with the haste Edge originally expected, grabby hands extended, and the moment Blue bent down to reach for her, the baby burst into sobbing howls, squirming away.

Automatically, Edge swung her up, settling her against his shoulder and patting her back gently as he soothed her with a bewildered, “There, there, it’s all right. What’s wrong?”

Blue looked as if he might burst into tears himself, stumbling back a step and his eye lights faded from stars to unhappy circles. “I didn’t mean to—"

They both turned to look at Red as he let out a harsh laugh. “what’s wrong? he scared the shit out of her coming in like that, that’s what’s wrong,” Red snorted contemptuously, “don’t you know nothin’ bout babies? you’re almost as bad as my bro.”

“Not really,” Blue admitted. Shame filled his expression as he shuffled his feet. He noticed he was still wearing his boots and sat on the floor to pull them off, carrying them over to the door and automatically straightening the other shoes before adding his. “Most of my experience with children has been seeing them from a distance.”

That gave Edge a start and he realized he’d been expecting Blue to have some sort of knowledge about childcare, though he wasn’t sure why. This world was softer and tended towards kindness, but that hardly meant it gave them any innate parenting skills.

“Well!” Blue straightened, propping his hands on his hips. “I’m sure that the Magnificent Sans can learn!”

“sure you can, bro,” Stretch said, cautiously, and that Edge could understand, being very familiar with Blue’s brand of determination.

“yeah, well, here’s your first lesson,” Red slouched back on the sofa, picking at his gold tooth with a sharpened fingertip. “babies don’t like it when ya shout.”

“yep, that’s a good place to start. you know what, i’m gonna get everyone some coffee,” Stretch announced and fled to the kitchen, the coward.

Blue paid that no mind, already came back over determinedly when he spied the bowl Edge had hastily shoved on the table. The child was watching him warily as Blue picked it up, taking hold of the little spoon. “Here, let me help!”

Before Edge could stop him, Blue tried to poke the filled spoon into her mouth. The child refused to part her teeth, leaving a smear of mushy banana across them, and Blue’s brief confidence sagged, “Oh. Um. Maybe she’s not hungry?”

“Maybe.” Edge took the bowl back and immediately she began bouncing eagerly in his lap, mouth opening wide as she made urgent little sounds.

“fuck, you two are morons,” Red snorted, because of course he would stay to bear witness. “she don’t know you. kid is small, she ain’t blind. she ain’t gonna take her banana goop from just any plain asshole, she likes an asshole she knows.”

“Yes, thank you for clarifying that for us all, brother,” Edge said sourly. Somewhat gentler, he said to Blue, “Sit with me. Let her see you, it may make her more comfortable.”

“yeah, hold out a hand and let her sniff ya, that’ll do it,” Red chuckled meanly as Stretch came back out with a tray of mugs. He set it down before smacking Red on the back of the skull.

“will you cool it on the running commentary? let them work it out.”

Red rubbed his head and scowled, but he accepted the coffee cup when Stretch handed him one. “just callin’ it how i see it.”

“yeah, well, if they give up on trying, that leaves you as mary poppins, smartass.”

“good point. my teeth are sealed.”

The child grudgingly allowed Edge to settle her back on the pillows with the unspoken promise of more food. She watched Blue warily the entire time she was eating, but he made no move towards her. He sat obediently still the entire time, his gloved hands clasped tightly together in his lap as if to stave off any impulse to scoop the baby up. If nothing else, her attention on Blue kept her from messily sharing any more of her banana.

When the bowl was scraped clean, Edge wiped the child’s chubby face clean with a damp cloth then settled her back into his lap. “You see, little one?” he told her softly, “Blue is a friend.”

“I am! I really am! Want to come here?” Blue slowly held out his hands without getting too close, waiting with impressive patience. The baby looked from him to Edge, and he tried to look encouraging.

Slowly, she held up her arms to Blue. He lifted her a little awkwardly, but managed to get her settled into the curve of his arm without intervention.

“There we go!” To Edge’s relief, Blue kept his enthusiasm at a minimum, though he practically vibrated with excitement. Almost immediately, the baby began to loudly babble and if he didn’t know better, Edge would say she was scolding Blue for his part in the earlier brotherly dispute.

Soon enough, her chattering dwindled to murmurs, her sockets growing heavy, then closing entirely as she slept. Edge let Blue keep holding her as he gratefully took up his own cup of coffee and never had caffeination been so delicious.

Blue only looked at her in awe, lightly touching each of her tiny, perfect fingers. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered, turning the full force of his starry eye lights onto his brother, “but honestly, Papy, you should have told me you two were expecting a child!”

Stretch choked, spilling coffee down the front of his shirt. “wait, what? that’s why you were so pissed off?”

“I would have thought you would be more cautious about that sort of thing, but I suppose it hardly matters now,” Blue said philosophically. “You still should have called me though when she arrived!”

“but we didn’t…!”

“Here we have a new baby, and I wasn’t even able to give her a baby shower!”

“She’s already had a bath,” Edge said, confused. This was going entirely too fast and he was not in top form, how could they possibly have been expecting her, there was nothing about the past two days that Edge had expected in the slightest.

Rescue came from an unexpected and wholly unwanted source.

“fuck’s sake, blueberry, she ain’t their kid!” Red snapped.

“Don’t swear,” Edge and Blue said, nearly in unison. Then Edge nearly choked on his own coffee as realization clicked with the force of an open-handed slap. Blue thought that the baby was his, not simply his responsibility but his own and Stretch’s. Suddenly his earlier sympathetic look made more sense, by Asgore’s horns, of all things he could believe…!

“She’s not?” Blue asked, confused. “But, then where did she come from?”

“where the fuck do you think, numbnuts?” Whatever the patience Red usually had for Blue seemed to have found its limit. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, all but slamming his mug down on the coffee table, “she wasn’t flown in by the stork, kid was homegrown just like the rest of us and she’s got the fucking serial number to prove it!”

“Oh.” There was a wealth of meaning in that single, soft word, too many to properly interpret. Blue looked down at the baby sleeping in his arms, his fingertips hovering over her rib cage without touching, right over where her pajamas hid the healing scar. The same scar his brother and Red still had, faded and blurred, but still there. Then he wordlessly handed her to Edge, climbing to his feet and walked determinedly over to his brother.

Stretch only watched warily, allowing Blue to take away his half-empty coffee cup to shove it on table, ignoring the splash of coffee that slopped out and spread across the wood. He slid his small, strong arms around him, holding onto his brother tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” Blue said simply. The words were muffled, buried into Stretch’s coffee-stained hoodie. “I shouldn’t have been so upset with you and I certainly should have let you explain.”

“aw, bro, it’s okay—” Stretch hugged him back, resting his cheekbone on top of Blue’s skull.

“It’s not,” Blue said, the words tainted with the hint of a sob. “I assumed you were being irresponsible, and I shouldn’t have.”

“not like i don’t give you a reason for that.”

“There’s a difference between a messy room and, well, this.” They stayed there a moment longer, holding on tight, and when Blue drew away, he swiped a hasty sleeve over his damp sockets. “Now!” Blue clapped his hands together softly. “I think we should discuss living arrangements.”

“We can,” Edge said, quietly firm, “but I hardly think that will be necessary. We won’t be here for long.”

The sudden trio of protests was loud enough to wake the baby and Edge turned away, bouncing her in his arms as he tried to soothe her back to sleep. He’d known there would be objections, but he couldn’t allow them to sway him. This child was his responsibility, his choice, and his alone.

He had a duty to her and Edge was determined to see it done.

TBC

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #drifters

[dw-writes]

how about “i’m really sorry i never told you i was immortal but now you’re aging and i’m not and i can’t see you die i don’t know what to do so i’m telling you now” with billy? in a universe where the supes are supernatural creatures? i just love me some angst tbh

sCREAMS UGH this makes me SAD!!! i dunno if its TOO MUCH of an AU?? because i think Supes in The Boys are already immortal or at least age MUCH SLOWER than normal people. I dunno. Also, I still haven’t watched Season 2. I’ve read about it on the Wiki, but uh....yeah. i hope you enjoy!!

You watched Billy from across the street, the hood of your coat drawn over your head to hide your distinctive hair and noticeable features as you kept an eye on the man. He was crouched in the living room of a nondescript house, speaking quietly to Ryan, who sat on the couch. You kicked your feet and dropped your eyes to the street, drawing your shoes up onto the opened tailgate of the truck you sat on. The truck swayed and Annie sighed as she settled next to you, fixing the baseball cap on her head.

“Wish I had x-ray vision,” she groaned as she stretched, “That’s such a nice power. Great for spy work and stuff.”

You shrugged and looked over. “I’d give it up,” you murmured. You turned your attention back to the house and rested your cheek on your knee. Billy had moved onto the couch and was shoulder to shoulder with Ryan. “He’s got more greys,” you mumbled.

“He’s old,” Annie pointed out.

“So am I,” you retorted. You looked back at her and hugged your knees. “I haven’t told him, yet.”

“That you’re immortal?” she asked. You nodded. She rolled something around in her hands and you glanced down, finding a plastic bottle in her grip. “The Deep would kill me if he knew I had this,” she mumbled as she twisted it open. You watched her take a long drink and declined when she offered it to you. “I haven’t told Hughie,” she finally said, “If that makes you feel better.”

You shrugged. “A little.” You turned back to the house. Billy had pulled Ryan into what looked to be a very awkward hug, one that Ryan fiercely returned. The man stood, ruffled the kid’s hair, and stepped away to talk with the woman that had been tasked with keeping him safe. It wasn’t Mallory, but someone she trusted. You dropped your gaze when Billy walked out the front door. “I dunno how to tell him,” you whispered, “How do you say ‘Hey, I haven’t aged since 1962 and I never will but you’re aging and it fucking hurts’?”

Annie tilted her head towards you. She shook her head after a moment. “I dunno,” she finally answered. She reached out and squeezed your knee. “But when you find out, will you tell me?” she asked. You nodded. The two of you slid off the tailgate and shut it. Annie headed for a car that was parked further down the street, one that Hughie sat in. You rounded the truck and climbed into the front seat just as Billy opened the driver’s side door.

“What’s that about?” he asked as he pulled the door shut. You looked over. It was still weird to see him so clean shaven, even when he had put off shaving for a few days and a nice layer of stubble had grown over his jaw. He slid a pair of sunglasses up his nose but continued to watch you.

You picked at the drawstring of your hood. The plastic at the end had been stripped away for a long time, and now the end frayed from your repetitive abuse. “You know we don’t age, right?” you softly blurted out. You gulped, keeping your eyes trained on your shoes. “Us Supes,” you softly clarified with a shrug. Billy stayed silent, but stretched his arm across the seats, his fingers drumming against your head rest. Words continued to spill out of your mouth the longer the quiet went on. “I haven’t aged in a long time, and it’s not really fair for you to be stuck with someone that’s just so weird and dangerous – I mean, I know that you know that I’m not like Homelander, and Annie isn’t either and—”

“You been thinkin’ about this a long time, haven’tcha?” he cut in. He reached out and pulled your hood from your head, softly calling your name until you looked at him. “Been noticin’ you watchin’ me more,” he commented. His lips quirked up on one side. “What, you been countin’ my wrinkles? All those little gray hairs?” He wiggled his fingers near his scalp.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not funny,” you sighed.

He arched an eyebrow and rested his hand on the steering wheel. The playfulness and teasing melted from his face the longer he watched you pick at the drawstring. “This really bother you?” he softly asked. His hand left the headrest and pulled your fingers from your clothes. “Me gettin’ older?”

“Me not aging while you get older bothers me,” you replied. You looked up at him, squeezed his fingers as gently as you could. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I’m afraid that, one of these days, I’ll wake up and you won’t remember who I am. Or…you’ll be sick. Or…”

He sucked as his teeth and pulled your hand up to his mouth, kissing your palm. His glasses slid down his nose and he watched you so intently that your face warmed. “Don’t worry about that,” he said as he lowered your hand, “Think I’ll be long gone ‘fore that can happen.”

“That’s not funny.”

“’m not laughin’.” He squeezed your hand back. “Listen, you really worried about that? Then we’ll figure it out later.” You pushed your fingers into the spaces between his. “We got other shit to worry about, not me gettin’ old and little creaky.” He lifted your entwined hands, turned the truck on and pulling away from the curb. “Got it?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered, “I got it.” You pulled his hand into your lap and sank back into the seat.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher/reader #the boys #the boys asks #karl urban #gifs #Anonymous

[poptod]

Ya’aburnee (Merriel Shelton x Reader)

Description: ya’aburnee (arabic, phr.) - “you bury me”; wishing for a loved one to outlive you because of how unbearable life would be without them. Drabble angst :)

Notes: I know this is below par, you’ll have to forgive me, I’ve had a migraine for nine years and it’s kind of flaring up recently. I put the keep reading thing really high because it goes straight into it and I don’t wanna trigger anyone.  Warning: Suicide, depression, self harm Word Count: 1.5k

Merriel isn't the most observant person in the universe, but he isn't an idiot either. You know this, you base your truth upon it, you pray to whoever listens that he won't pay attention. For you, the decisions you make and the things you do are the only sane thing. Belt upon skin, beating till it breaks – that's peace, it's sincerity, and for once in a hectic life, it's calm. There's marks that dot your skin, lining and defining ridges along your arms and hips. He's caught up in this game you play too well – he couldn't notice.

Standing beside him, overlooking a city lit bright in the dark of midnight, you wonder what he'd do if he knew. Would he hate you? Many would. Most would think you insane, and maybe you are, but it isn't for you to say. He keeps you alive, not that he knows that. Him and the rough touch of his fingers against your palm, his breath hot against your ear when you dance with him, chests pressed tightly together. He puts a hand on your waist to guide you, and you almost wince. You manage not to. Quiet violins play from inside, dulled by the glass door separating the balcony from Merriel's apartment. Plants in more pots than you can count line the balcony, hanging from the ceilings, vines dripping down to the apartment below you. In a sultry voice he whispers, I'm glad ya came, his lips brushing against your temple, lingering for only a moment before he pulls away. Deep into your eyes he stares, caught up in a beauty he knows too well and longs to love better.

You remember when you met him by the ocean, the wind whipping so hard your face blushed red from its' bite. Despite that you didn't move, petrified by the ocean's harsh waves, stuck in the dream of escaping all you knew. He sat beside you then, his legs dangling beside yours off the public dock.

Tonight isn't like then – no harsh wind, no discomfort, but you still find yourself unsettled. It isn't him, you know it isn't, it can't be him, it has to be you. It has to be you feeling sick with yourself, despising every thought in your head and punishing every word that escapes you. You've driven away everyone, everything but him – he's managed to stay. He finds something within you, some semblance of a person that you can't recognize within yourself, and somehow that hint of kindness has kept you going.

He shows you the constellations, intertwines your fingers with his in a way only those built for each other can, his words melting like impurity and virtue all at once in your head. The scent of smoke and iron swarms all around you, an intoxication you can hardly bear. It's not a familiar feeling for you, being unable to handle a form of escape – you've taken your fair share of addictions on. Marijuana lessens your anxiety, LSD takes you far away from where you stand, alcohol blocks out everything you hate to feel.

Flirtations aren't enough to stop it from returning, which he notices every now and then, rarely bringing it up. The topic is an uncomfortable one, no one can deny that.

And you desperately think that maybe, maybe you won't return to the way things were when you first met him, standing at the dock, ready to fling yourself off the deep end in a mortifyingly literal way. Maybe he can keep you safe, and it feels as though he can when he leads you back inside, brushing your hair out of your eyes and standing too close. He almost kisses you, you can feel it about to happen, the way he leans in, the way his eyes dilate, the fondness for you radiating off every action he takes. When he doesn't, and the two of you part for the evening, you realize you didn't feel anything. You didn't feel a thing when he was far from you, you didn't feel a thing when he stood so close you could smell the gin on his breath.

I don't know why I'm going against these thoughts, you think on the ride home. I'm not worth the effort of saving.

In the safety of your own home you take scissors to your skin, too scared to use a razor and yearning for more pain than a belt can give. With that, the bathroom door is locked behind you, even though you know your apartment is empty. Crimson stains your toilet lid when you sit down, dizzy from the rush it gives you. The scars already marking your hips remind you that you're tainted and will always be that way. No one could love that part of you, no one can say you're worth the time – your decisions in past and present bar you from many aspects of normal life. No swimming, no one night stands, no relationships, no normal clothes shopping, no normal work.

As you lay down on your bed, still clothed, your shoes still strapped to your feet, you stare at the ceiling and think about him. He is the only perfect aspect of you, even if he isn't truly a part of you. The part of you that loves him is the only part that feels right.

You don't fall asleep, not until dawn.

It's not really a conscious decision when you wake up. More than anything it's automatic, something that should've terrified you to your core, but it doesn't. Maybe the thought has crossed your mind too many times, but when you reach for your pistol you don't have any raging thoughts. You don't think about your parents or friends. In fact, you only hesitate when you hear the phone ring – only Merriel knows your new phone number. Curiosity overcomes you, and you leave the gun at your bedside, pick up the phone, and lay it down on your desk, not ready to respond to anything.

"Hey," he says, his usual softness injured by the static. "You there?"

You remain silent still, resting your head against a couch cushion and staring listlessly at your mostly empty bookcase.

"Uh... I've been noticin' you've been actin' a bit.. off. Jus' wonderin' if everythin's alright. I know I probably sound paranoid or somethin', but I... can we meet up? In person? I don' really feel like talkin' about this over the phone."

When you still don't speak, you hear the rustling of clothing before the dial tone. It sparks a suspicion in you, but it isn't enough to distract you entirely – you lie there for a moment more, bereft of energy, before you drag yourself back into the bedroom, trailing over the bumps and ridges of the pistol.

Everything should be alright. There isn't anything in your life that adds to misery besides yourself, and therein lies the issue – there is no way to rid of yourself to heal. Only to end.

Two knocks come from your door, beating fear into your veins when you remember you rarely lock your door. There's little purpose to when you don't care what happens to yourself. How could he have gotten here so fast? Perhaps you'd dazed out longer than you thought; with shaking hands you reach for your gun, resting your pointer on the trigger, finally feeling something for the first time in what feels like forever.

In your empty apartment, barren of personality and objects, he calls your name. He's never been here before, and his confusion and alarm is clear in his tone. Sharp footsteps make their way to your bedroom door, which you made sure was shut behind you, and when the handle clicks you hold the gun to your temple. You almost pull it, almost make it – it's just a millisecond, but the second you see his face you falter. He does too, eyes widening as he sucks in a sharp breath, his steady hands pausing in midair as he reaches for you.

You stand at an impasse, wondering who will make the first move. There's so much inside him, so much life in his eyes, draining by the second as reality sets itself in his mind.

"Are you fucking stupid?" He growls suddenly, and you realize he's pulling the gun away from you, ripping it and tossing it across the room. In a swift movement his arms wrap around you, tugging you into his warmth. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deep as he holds you tight, silently begging for whatever beast that took hold of you to banish itself forever.

"I wanted you to bury me," you whisper almost sweetly, and though you feel a shiver run through his body, he does not let go.

He doesn't pull away, not for a long time. A welcome pressure around your shoulder and waist, you allow him to stay as he is, desperate to give you some sort of comfort. When he does release you he rests his hand on your cheek, brushing your hair off your face once more.

"Never do that again. Never even think of doin' that shit again," he breathes out, eyes scanning your face for any sign of dishonesty. You nod, tears welling up suddenly, burning their way down your cheeks. "I thought someone broke inta y' house, god, I didn't... fuck."

"I – I'm sorry," you manage to choke out through sobs, falling to your knees as you wonder how you could fail at something as simple as suicide.

The words weren't meant for him, though they could be – sorry I hurt myself, sorry you had to see that. But no matter how one looks at the situation, it doesn't erase the fact you meant I'm sorry I couldn't do it in time.

He never learns this. You thank God for that.

#merriel snafu shelton #snafu x reader #the pacific #rami malek #rami malek character #gender neutral reader #male reader #Female reader

[autochthonousone]

Shadows Beyond The Wall: Leaving The Past Behind

Shana Deftarm ( @the-worst-mercenaries ) was tense, folded arms gripping in what would have been a white-knuckle death grip if her hands weren't covered. She was scowling, glaring at the wall, before looking one way and then the other as if searching the horizon for something... though it didn't appear to be there by the way her frown deepened or the way she blew out her breath in an annoyed half-groan.

Barengar Armsbreaker ( @autochthonousone ) had been out within the Shroud doing some work for the Wailers, mostly scaring off poachers from their camps, when he caught sight of a vaguely familiar looking individual on the road. Curiosity got the better of him, following the woman off the road as she made her way to overlook the Castrum. Barengar's chin lifted slightly as he closed some of the distance, a subtle grunt leaving his chest; announcing his presence.

Shana flinched, whipping her head around at the sound behind her. She narrowed her green eyes, relaxing after a moment she recognized the man that probably hadn't meant to sneak up on her. "Armsbreaker," she said with a polite nod in greeting. "Found work this far out from Ul'dah?" Shana waved a hand, motioning at the forest. "Hope the pay is worth it, Gridanians still haven't grown on me."

Barengar shrugs a single shoulder and bobs his head to the side slightly, a noncommittal gesture. A stiff grunt was quick to follow as he took a few more steps forward and shifted his gaze to look out over what it was Shana was observing. "Plucks ta be found everywhere. I ain't been ta a place that's ain't got 'em. Just takin' the work I get 'm 'ands on." He side glances toward the woman, "Take it yer not out here doin' the same though."

Shana shook her head, looking down at the ground before flicking her eyes to the wall. She sighed again, hand dropping and settling on her hips at the end of the exhale. "

"No. I've a reputation to keep as worst mercenary on the roster; can't do that if I actively go for work." Shana managed to say after cracking a half smile. She paused a moment, looking back at Barengar beore shrugging. "I was hoping to find Avelyn and Adun; just checking up on them. Its been... a while, since I saw them last. We don't usually go so long without a word between us. Adun and me, anyway."

Barengar grunted lowly at her quip, lifting his right should up so that the large axehead resting upon it slides free and finds itself plummeting into the soft soil below. The mercenary gave a firm push, securing it deep into the ground before pulling his hand away and rolling the same shoulder back. "Figure if you suspect they're stickin' there nose into the Castrum ya've got plenty ta worry about." he grumbled quietly.

Shana frowned shaking her head. "Adun's not that much of a love-struck idiot. Not yet anyway. And Avelyn wouldn't be such a fool." She shrugged, watching the same shoulder move with a quirk of her eyebrow. "I heard her say the Resistance was growing more active here, or moving... something," she waved her hand again as if pushing it aside. "I can't remember, but I thought maybe I would have found them. But they aren't here, or I just don't know how to find them."

Barengar grumbled quietly to himself for a moment before taking in a slow breath and, finally, turning his head to look directly at Shana. "Ya din't hear wrong. Seein' plenty o' Mhigan lookin' plucks snoopin' 'round the area." He dips his head to the side slightly, "S'far as I've been noticin' any'ow." He lifts a hand and rubs the stubble on one cheek, "I ain't seen those two though."

"None of them brave enough to get too close it seems." Shana said with a murmur, eyes scanning the far-off wall. Even from here it seemed large, imposing. "This is near the spot we came though," she finally said after a long moment, frowning and letting her shoulders sag. "When the Wailers found us, we spent the night over in Hawthorne hut. I keep wondering if they ever patched the hole he found/"

Barengar bobs his head from side-to-side, "Supposin' they saw ya use it? I figure they did." The man briefly flicks his gaze toward the wall before returning it to Shana, grunting, "Either they ain't brave 'nough or they ain' dumb 'nough."

"I suppose." Shana said with another sigh. She was quiet again, letting the silence stretch and drag though she didn't seem to mind it terribly. "Do you want to go back? Do you even remember what Ala Mhigo looked like before Garlemald got its claws dug in, knuckle deep?"

Barengar snorts slightly, looking away from the woman and settling it back upon the Garlean fortress. He was silent for quite sometime before he slowly lowered himself to settle down next to his earthbound axe. "No. Can't say I do want ta go back. Ain't anythin' there fer me waitin'. 'member jus' enough o' my time b'fore the Garlean plucks ta know that it weren't much nicer'n the time af'er 'em."

Shana couldn't help but crack a smile, folding her arms once again but seeming far more relaxed than the beginning of their conversation. "It's..." She dropped off after a moment, shaking her head. "Anytime sister mentions the Resistance it takes all of my self control to not run from the room," shana finished with a chuckle, though there was almost a frown set in her eyes. "... it feels almost un-Ala Mhigan to say I'd be happier staying here. I'd worry less about family."

Barengar blinked. He hadn't really expected that. So many of the Ala Mhigan's the found themselves hovering around Avelyn seemed like they had fire in their blood for marching on Gyr Abania. Once the shock of her revelation had passed Barengar simply grunted in reply. At least at first. A short moment later he looked over at her, "Ya ain't wrong ta feel that way." he grumbled, "Speakin' fr'm experience. I ain't got any desire of puttin' any more meat inta that grinder."

"We lost Ala Mhigo a long time ago." Shana continued, still frowning. The set of her jaw seemed more sad than angry, or disappointed. "But when they go to try and push the ashes back together, I won't be far behind." She sighed, smiling to herself. "But that's family. Even when I don't agree."

Barengar furrowed his brow slightly, recalling something that didn't seem to sit well with him. The man grunted with a distinct sound of discontent before looking away and out over the castrum. "Good way ta wind up six-fulms deep if ya ask me." he replied in a low tone.

Shana looked down at the man sitting to her side, curious but quiet. "True," she said after a while, before looking back at the wall like she was staring through it. "Sometimes its just better to let things be. But some can't ever seem to let go, can they?" She was smiling again, the habit she'd picked up to ease tension both in herself and those around her. "But you've done well for yourself this side, atleast. That's no small accomplishment."

Barengar grunted, tipping his head toward the woman, "Suppose so." he grunted, "Ain't no bed o' roses." The warrior's fingers drummed along his boot idly as he kept his eyes trained upon the high walls. "Takin' turns ta establish a reputation tha's meanin' anythin' an', even then, yer windin' up havin' ta filter out all the bleedin' contracts that ya ain't keen on doin'."

"Like I was sayin'," he grunted, "Ain't no lack o' scummy plucks no matter where yer endin' up."

Shana sat down, nodding. "Makes sense. Everyone think their problems are more important that someone elses'." She sat back, legs stretched out in front of her while she rested on her arms.

Barengar grunted, a touch amused, "Ain't so much that as much as it is all the contemptable work ya see gettin' throw in yer direction. Round'n the belly merchants that ain't got a damnable ounce of decency in their blood." he heaved a sigh that ended up sounded a bit like a hiss, "An' yet I'm findin' tha' preferable ta settin' m'boots down 'cross that wall 'gain. Ain't figurin' that they'd be too keen on seein' me do so either any'ow."

"It's easier to kill the beast you know than fight the ones you don't," Shana summed up quietly, looking down at her hand and pushing a few pebbles around in the dirt. "... All the people I've spoken with, they just..." She trailed off, blowing the hair out of her eyes. "They have an unreal belief that its the same way it was, 20 years ago. Or they can dig out the Garleans like they're just ticks and been establishing themselves for twenty years. That they haven't been trying to breed us out."

Barengar slowly turns his gaze over toward Shana, eyeing her quietly for a moment before a low grunt serves as a subtle sound of his agreement. "Ain't often I find m'self speakin' as I am wit'out 'avin' ta bob outta th'way o' a lashin' fist. Let'lone hearin' similar sentiments in kind." he admitted in a notably uncertain tone, "Ya ain't been this side o' the wall long, yeah?"

"Not long, no. A few moons," Shana answered with a shrug. "Adun and Avelyn are the Fists. I accepted Ala Mhigo's fall, /I was there/." She reached up and pushed the hair from her face, though it seemed more to keep her hand busy than it actually being bothersome. "I could have spent all that time over there undermining Garlemald, got caught and killed for my trouble. Or I could let the hells-damned dogs have that patch of dirt and rock, and survive." She sounded agitated, "We didn't need Ala Mhigo to retain our identities, but I suppose some of us did."

Barengar tips his head back, eyes glancing toward the sky as he mulled over Shana's words, "Ain't gonna hear contrary fr'm me." He replied in a deep rumble, "Paid my dues ta tha' so called 'Resistence'. I ain't payin' anymore." The man idly rolled his left shoulder back several times, "If'n some pluck needs a patch o' dirt to give themselves meanin' then I ain't so sure they're meant ta be long fer the world."

Shana smirked, looking over at Barengar. "Is it that bad? I visited Little Ala Mhigo once; it was painfully awkward, considering I was more interested in leaving to find more amusing venues."

Barengar bobs his head slightly, "Dependin' on who ya ask, I figure, but I ain't a fan o' them as much as they ain't a fan o' me." he shrugs his left shoulder, "I ain't about ta blame ya fer wantin' ya keep yer time there short."

"You can't help people that don't want to climb out of the gutters." Shana said quietly. "... and I got the feeling that the people in that hole were so deep into clutching old pride they're content to stay down in the mud having their pity party." She snorted, shaking her head. "Even the bloody Corpse Brigades' there to keep up the old ways and remind everyone what a disappointment they were."

Barengar clicks his tongue quietly, nodding his head along quietly, "I figure ya ain't wrong about that. C'n take a hell'va lot ta change a mind. An' that's before ya fill it wit' inklin's o' somethin' that ain't likely ta be existin' anymore." he grunted, closing his eyes briefly before opening them once more and looking over to Shana, "Ain't supposin' yer lookin' ta turn that reputation o' bein' the worst merc around are ya?"

"Maybe," Shana chuckled, turning to look fully at Barengar. "I've spent too much time just wandering around aimlessly. Its time I actually contribute. But I do favors for friends, if you ever need an extra hand. Or lance." She sighed, getting heavily up to her feet. "If I keep staring at that damned wall I'm going to go crazier than the King."

Barengar tips his head to the side, snorting at the mention of the King of Ruin. The man rolls his left shoulder back several times before reaching out to grab the handle of his land-lodged weapon with his right hand. He uses it to heave himself back to his feet and then rip it from the ground and return it to its place upon his back before turning to face Shana, "I ain't about ta ask favors but, supposin' yer lookin' fer work th’ Captain’s got m’re th’n ‘nough jobs that ain’t proper ta be handled solo." he paused a moment, glancing toward the woman, " Supposin' tha's somethin' o' interest."

Shana nodded. "Might be good to do some real work." She reached up, tying back her hair and glancing at the man. "Just grab me over the Blades' pearl. It was a good crossing paths, Barengar." She half bowed, grinning at him.

Barengar bowed his head low in return, grunting a curt farewell, "Good seein' ya too, seems. I'll be seein' ya 'round, I figure."

#FFXIV Roleplay #Barengar Armsbreaker #Shana Deftarm