#str4nding

pretending   nothing's   changed   was     a million times easier than letting his walls down     again,     he doesn't blame fragile for anything      ...     no,     he shouldn't of gone out there to     help     those people     &.     now     ?     his nights are     plagued     by the memories of witnessing a     voidout,     not being able to help the people he led out there.     how could he     not     beat himself up about it     ?     being cornered by fragile,     eyes flick between the arms that     keep     him where he is before flitting to look in front of her     ⸻     seeing those     bunched     up features,     angry     with him.     he could accept people being angry at him,     it's something he's     used     to.     ❛     what  do  you     want     me  to  say,     huh     ?     that  i  feel  like  it's  all     my     fault  that  those  people     died     ?     because  yeah     ⸻     i'd  rather     pretend     nothing  changed.     like  i  didn't  lead  those  people  to  their  death.     ❜     there's a pause as he looks away,     brows     pinched     as he tries to not look at her,     not wanting to feel even worse than he does.     ❛    i'm     sorry,     okay  but  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you,     i'd  like  to  be  alone  right  now.     ❜

#str4nding.tumblr.com     &.     #btg0d.tumblr.com     ⸻     both   independent,    mutual   only   blogs   for   sam   porter   bridges    (    multimuse    )     &.    higgs   monaghan.    both   21+     &.   containing   mature   themes.   portrayed   by   ter     &.     anu.

⸻ starter @str4nding ft. sam

𝖘𝖍𝖊     𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘𝖓'𝖙     𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖙     𝖙𝖍𝖊    sudden    softness    of  mechanical  fingers  beneath  her  chin,     head  tilted  to  look  up  at  the  man  before  her,     her    salvation.     there's  no  hiding  that  whatever  is  between  them  is  there     ⸻    a  bond,     a  connection  to  one  another  that's    more    than  that  of  a    priestess   and   prophet.     she  doesn't  know  if  it's  simply  because  he  needs  something  from  her  or  it's  something  else  entirely,     however  she  gives  him  her    full    attention,     even  leaning  into  his  touch  a  little.     green  eyes  meet  blues,     how  she  could  get    lost    in  them     …     he  was  everything  to  her.     she  was  his    devout    follower.    ❛    is   there   something   you    need    of   me    ?    ❜

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬   𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭   𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠   about the fact that fragile was so   willing   to fight him now     ⸻     especially when she couldn't even pull the trigger on him,   instead left to be   stranded   on the beach.   inhabiting the ghost mech body,   a hand rests   dramatically   on his hip,   head   cocked   as he watches her.   ❛   is  that  so,   you  really  ready  to  finally   tussle   with  me   ?   no  backing  out  this  time,   sweetheart.   ❜   in a matter of seconds,   his guitar manifests,   pointing it at her as lips pull into a smirk.   he   wouldn't   strike her first,   no   …   he wanted to see what she would do,   how she would   handle   this.   dear   oh   fragile   …   there was once a time where he   loved   her,   where they were equals.   that was before the   sweet   angel   of   death   whispered tantalizing words into his ear,   corrupted   him   …   led him down a path there would be no returning to.   he sometimes misses them,   their   closeness   …   everything that came from it.   however,   he would never be able to go back to the man he once was,   even if he wanted to.   there's no   forgiving   the things he's done or was going to do.

a warmth spreads throughout his chest that's     not     caused by the fire,      eyes shifting to look away from him.      ❛     you  say  that  like  it's  a     bad     thing.     there's  not  much  in  a  world  like  this     ...     people     rarely     feel  real,     not  when  it  feels  like  any  day  could  be  the     last.     ❜     despite that,     daryl moves a little closer,     sitting right beside him,     elbow to elbow.     at first he doesn't look at him,     still looking ahead before he     tentatively     looks beside him,     an     unreadable     expression on his face.      ❛     i've  not  trusted     many     people  but     ...      you  mean  a     lot     to  me     &.     i  honestly  don't  know  what  i'd  do  if  you  were  gone.     ❜     a calloused hand reaches for one of sam's,     hesitantly     intertwining     sam's fingers with his own.

eyes   shift   from   his   crossbow,    cleaning     &.     tending     to it to ensure it will continue to work for him.     in the quiet of his home it's no     surprise     that sam would willingly spill his guts to him,     the quiet is nice     ...     he     enjoyed     it but he also did enjoy     company,     even if he may     never     verbalize it.     flicking eyes to sam,    he says nothing at first,    pondering over his words,    wondering     what     to say back.    was that the     only     scary thing to him     ?     in a world of BTs     &.     voidouts,     him knowing him unlike anyone else is what     worries     him     ?     letting out a breath through his lips,     he sets the crossbow to the side     &.     leans forward,    elbows atop knees.    ❛     why     does  it  scare  you,    wouldn't  you     rather     someone  knows  you  like  this  than     nobody     ?     ❜     he wants to ask sam what he's so scared of,     what about it specifically scares him but he bites his lip instead.     ❛     nobody     else  knows  me  like  you  do     either.     ❜     it's meant to be comforting,     or at least he's     hoping     for it to sound    comforting.