#someone you loved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaigarax · 6 months

Text

Everything I Could Never Say

Porco Galliard x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone you knew." & "Fall in love with someone that inspires you."

Someone You Loved: Featuring the Soldier

Porco Galliard had been acquainted with death all his life.

He’d never personally gotten very close to death but many of the most important people in his life had been taken away. Death was like a friend of a friend that you’ve never quite liked but never been able to leave behind. Though, Porco supposes that choosing a life in the military wasn’t the smartest choice if he hoped to avoid death.

From his brother Marcel who died when he was twelve during an accident to his best friend Pieck who died when he was twenty one during their first deployment. The countless soldiers he’s fought side by side with seemingly nothing but nameless faces in the wind.

And now, it seems, you.

Porco can’t help but feel awkward as he stands at the entrance. There’s a light drizzle in the sky yet it does nothing to cool the weather. It’s humid and Porco’s suit sticks to him. It also doesn't help that his arms and legs ache from the long flight. He’d been working out in hopes of getting the stress out but it seems as though his stress has come back full force in the shape of both mental and physical anguish.

Your parents had invited him to the service the day before but he hadn’t been able to get the time off. At least he’d be able to attend with everyone else. Actually, it’s quite fitting because while Porco had been close with you growing up he feels as though you’re almost a stranger now.

It’s a horrible thing to realize and even more devastating to think about yet seems almost fitting.

The woman standing at the counter greets him with a slight nod of her head as she asks for his name.

She hands Porco a badge and name tag.

It’s not his name that’s been written down.

Of course it was something like this. Something you would have loved. Not just would Porco not know anyone there but he wouldn’t be able to pretend to know them either. You always did seem to find amusement over stupid little things like this. But it was one of the things he loved about you.

The room’s larger than it looks. It’s white and round, with photos lined up across the walls. It looks more like an art exhibit than what it really is. But you would have liked it that way. In fact, Porco wouldn’t be all too surprised to hear that you planned this all out yourself.

The horrible ache in his arms and leg suddenly doesn't seem to bother him as much. The pain suddenly seems so little. So little compared to the aching in his chest.

He never realised how much he missed you.

It’s as though all those feelings he’d pushed down suddenly came rushing back and crashing down. The world around him is spinning and he can’t seem to catch his breath. He wants to run out but his feet don’t move. It’s hard to focus his eyes and he has to squint to look at the photo in front of him.

The man in the frame looks deeply concentrated on something in front of him. The camera’s capture him from his profile and highlights the ginamours background behind him. The spotlights seemed to have all turned to point at him, as if saying that ‘here is the main character. Watch him succeed’. Porco thinks that he can almost hear the cheers and feel the anticipation of the crowd as they wait for something incredible to happen.

You chose not the moment before or after but right then, before the world comes crashing down. Like the deep breath right before a storm. The words ‘with baited breath we await the storm’ are engraved at the bottom.

It’s… a nice photo.

Porco wonders if there’s one of him too.

What you might have written down for him.

His erratic heart seems to find some calm in the photos you’ve left behind. No, he thinks, they aren’t photos but rather art. The blood, sweat and tears that you gave in hopes of leaving something greater than you behind. The pieces of you that would forever stay here in the world of the living. Did you regret leaving something as amazing as this behind? Did you regret leaving-

The photo of him surprises him. Porco remembers the day you took that very one. He remembers how you pestered him for the entirety of the day in hopes that he would go with you to see the fireworks. How excited you were because your parents had finally gotten you the camera you had been begging for.

You had wanted to take a photo of the starry sky and light show.

And Porco had been in such a bad mood that day.

He’d been upset about something stupid his brother had done and wouldn’t do anything productive until Marcel apologised. Of course Marcel never apologised and you had done almost everything you could to make him smile.

Actually, now that Porco thinks about it, he doesn't think you ever did see the fireworks that day. After taking that photo you had left, your cheeks flushed red.

Truthfully, Porco thinks he looks a little… cute. Of course he looks every bit of the snot-nosed brat but even brats can be adorable children.

The words ‘Take 574’ are plastered beneath its portrait.

He once told you that he believed there were exactly 574 stars in the sky. Of course, being an adult, Porco now knows that there are millions (if not billions) of stars in the sky but that number had been so large. One of the largest numbers he had been able to count up to back then. It’s funny to think how small the world seemed to the two of you.

Back when Porco thought that it would only always just be the two of you.

He used to think that that was how the world would always be. Him, you and everyone else.

It’s a shame that life did not allow it to progress the way he had hoped it would. Though, that’s likely mostly to the fault of him. He’s almost certain both yours and his lives would have been different if Porco had…

“You’re that boy from the earlier photos, the Soldier, aren’t you?”

Porco turns to see the Mentalist. A man with dual coloured hair split straight down the middle. You talked about him quite a bit in your letters. About his brilliant mind and how thrilled you were when he had chosen to take you under his wing.

Looking at him now, Porco isn’t all too sure why you were so enamoured with him. Sure, he has a flashy appearance but he doesn't seem to exude the same brilliance you spoke of. Perhaps it’s just perspective? Though Porco has always been rather biased when it comes to the Mentalist. Afterall, why would you need to be tutored by someone in a different profession?

“Yeah.” Porco gives the Mentalist a slight nod, “how’d you know? Most people are surprised when they learn it’s me in those photos.”

The Mentalist smiles, “you have the same eyes.”

Porco raises a brow.

“And the same expressions.” Adds a newcomer.

The pair turn to see a white haired man. Porco instantly recognizes him as the Athlete. He’s shorter than Porco would have expected. Average height for an average person but definitely short for a professional athlete. He has startling eyes, something akin to a bird, and a very loud voice.

Porco recognizes him, not because of his exotic features or fame but because of you. He was, afterall, your latest muse. Or rather… last muse.

The Mentalist turns to look at the newcomer, a curious look in his eyes, “the Athlete?”

The Athlete flushes, “I was never really a fan of that title.”

“Why so?’ Asks the Mentalist.

“Because it always felt so…” the Athlete trails off, looking into the distance towards a photo of you.

“Different from who you felt you were?” Suggest Porco.

“Yeah.” says the Athlete, his gaze still glued to your photo.

Porco eyes follow the Athlete’s. He’s surprised that they managed to find such a recent photo of you. Actually, he’s surprised they managed to find one of you at all. You always did prefer to be behind the lens. It captures that youthful glow Porco remembers you having. You don’t have dirt in your hair or the baby fat that lingered into your early teens, but you have all the same warmth and excitement.

“You know, those are the titles she picked for you,” the Mentalist smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes, “I think she would have wanted you to look a little deeper into it.”

Porco snorts, “and what’s yours supposed to mean, Mentalist?”

“Well, I’m a magician, aren’t I? She was always very impressed by my extraordinary mental prowess.” The Mentalist smirks though Porco can see the sadness in his eyes, “though when she said it, she always meant eccentric. Considered calling it ‘the Mad Man’ at some point.”

Perhaps he had been too quick to judge him. Afterall, this man had chosen to go to your funeral and final exhibition. This man clearly, at one point, cared about you. This man, despite seeming to be everything Porco stands against, stands here trying to smile because he knows it’s what you would have wanted.

Porco tries his best to muster up a smile, “she wanted to call mine ‘the Brat.’”

The eyes of his two companions seem to fill up with laughter.

The Athlete eventually clears his throat, “did you two know her well?”

“Not as well as I’d like to.” Says the Mentalist.

“At one point,” Porco shrugs, “did you?”

“I’m not sure.” Answers the Athlete.

“Well you’re here so you must have meant something to her.” says Porco.

“And she must have meant something to you.” Adds the Mentalist.

Porco has always wondered what kind of person you turned out to be. The you he remembers is one who always chased after him. A clumsy girl that was scared of almost everything. Did you fall in love easily? Did you stand up for what you believed in? Until now, Porco never really realised how much uncertainty there was surrounding you.

Though, what he does know for certain is that you must have been brilliant. Why else would all these people have come for you?

“So, what’s ‘the Athlete’ supposed to mean?” Asks the Mentalist.

“Oh,” the Athlete flushes, “well it’s actually a bit of an inside joke, I think.”

The Mentalist turns his head to the side, “you think?”

“Well, she always talked about how she admired athletes. Talked about how she loved the way they ‘sparked’. Honestly, I’m surprised she chose me in the end.” There's a small smile that forms in the corner of the Athlete’s mouth, “I guess she couldn’t help but be impressed when she watched me play.”

Porco fights the urge to roll his eyes.

Not at the Athlete’s expense but yours.

Of course you have a type.

“Have any of you talked to the others?” Asks Porco.

“The others?” Questions the Athlete.

The Mentalist turns to look around the room, “the other Muses?”

“Oh,” says the Athlete, “no. Honestly I’m not really familiar with anyone else here. She never really spoke about the other… muses.” The word muse both sounds foreign from the Athlete’s mouth and feels foreign in Porco’s ears. “I’m basically a stranger to everyone else here. What about the two of you?”

“I’m in the same boat as you.” says Porco.

Then they both turn towards the Mentalist.

The Mentalist shrugs, “she always did like her distance.”

And Porco hates how true that statement seems to be and how deep it really sinks.

While the two of you had spent your developmental years together the other half of your life had been spent with you exploring the rest of the world while Porco slaved away in the army. Sure, the two of you exchanged letters but those could never be compared to the raw expressions and emotions that someone had whe face to face with another. A perfectly crafted collage of words and sentences that you’ve chosen to construct in order to create the perfect image that you know he would like to see.

Did he ever really know you at all?

Did either of these two?

Did any of these countless people?

Your distance had always been Porco’s least favourite thing about you. But distance seemed like such a little thing when compared to the vastness of everything else that made you, you. The distance was what made you, you.

The distance between you and Porco was one he could never quite bridge. So he could only ever love you from afar and wonder what it might be like to hear you call out his name. In the middle of a night after a nightmare; in the middle of the day for something mundane; in anger after the midst of an argument; and after the argument with remorse.

Fall in love with someone you knew.

---

Everything I Could Never Say

‘Stay.’

The first painting Porco has ever completed took three years from start to end. He’d always been interested in painting when he was young and dabbled in the art when he entered high school but wouldn’t truly indulge in the art until you left. All the time he’d spent with you would eventually become all the time he’d have to devote to his new hobbies.

For the longest time, the finished painting lay collecting dust in the back of his closet. He was never really pleased with the finished product but never truly found the heart to throw it away.

Eventually, the painting managed to make its way into the hands of an art collector. Porco’s mother had been having a yard sale and he had convinced his mother to throw the piece in with the other items. Someone clearly must have been impressed with the work because he’d soon find himself swept up in a whirlwind.

Now, the painting hangs up against a large white wall.

You’re standing at the edge of the doorframe, in the painting, a warm smile on your face. Your foot is out the door but your head is turned back as if waiting to hear one last message. As if waiting for one last thing. Your eyes are soft as you take everything in for the last time.

It’s Porco’s childhood home that he’s painted you in, recognizable with the ugly stain on the side of the door and messy rack of shoes that’s been pushed up against the wall.

Back then, Porco wanderers if you might have stayed in there just a moment longer if you had known it would be your last time ever seeing the place. And, if you had stayed a moment longer would those words at the tip of his tongue ever be said?

Would he have been able to utter that single word that lay at the tip of his tongue?

No.

Even if you had stayed just a moment longer he knows he would have never said those words. He couldn’t. Not because he was afraid of the rejection but because he knew you would stay if he asked. That a single word from him was all that it would have taken to change the very course of your lives.

But you were never meant for such mundane things.

You were meant to see the world - and how could he be the reason why you’d never get to experience that? The world was meant to see you - and how could he deny the world someone as amazing as you?

---

‘I missed you.’

The second painting was made years after the first. Years after Porco had already mastered and perfected his craft.

He’d been going through a slump when he bumped into you. The both of you happened to be visiting your childhood homes at the same time when you stumbled into one another. Porco had been going for a morning run while you (as usual) were out with your camera. It was almost nostalgic.

You’d been so happy that you practically strong armed him into going to a breakfast joint with you.

So much more grown up then you had been before, yet still with that spark in your eyes. The same bright expression yet your smile seemed to hold so much more wisdom behind it. Ideas and phrases that he’d never imagined you’d say before.

So familiar, yet different.

And that’s where he paints you.

Somewhere in between the state of familiarity and unknown.

There, in the breakfast diner, with a tired smile. You’re resting your head on your arms as you tell stories about the life you’ve managed to live without him. And it feels so different from words on a page. It feels real yet imaginary at the same time.

The slump he’d been going through had seemingly evaporated as he got to work on that painting of you that very afternoon.

Seeing how much you’ve changed back them seemed to set something off in him. It was a good kind of change. One that shows you've grown a lot from the immature and young person you had been before. That life has changed you for the better. It’s the kind of change that everyone goes through at one point but something you never notice until the change has occurred beneath your noses and now you’re a different person.

You’re a different person. Changed. And that thought made Porco happy yet sad at the same time.

And those words lingering in the back of his mind stay. Not because he can’t bring himself to say them but because they only stand to make all the change that has happened seem more real. Seem so… less imaginary. He’s scared that sadness will become the forefront of his mind if he allows himself to utter those words. So he doesn't. So he didn’t.

---

‘Why not?’

Barely a week after Porco’s finished the second painting does he come up with the idea for this one. Refamiliarizing yourselves with one another is an easier process than Porco would have thought. You fit like puzzle pieces. At first he’d been scared that you’d be much too different but he supposes that he had always been quite the pessimist. It’s not as if distance could have changed someone so much. Or at least not someone like you.

Porco’s decided to invite you to the bar, seeing as how you seemed to be experiencing a slump similar to one that he had just the week before.

A fresh environment is always a good way to spark some inspiration - and there’s no harm in a few drinks here and there. Or at least that was what Porco thought before he actually brought you there.

You’re five drinks in with two hours of complaining.

Love has never come easily to most and you had certainly not been an expectation. And that difficulty had brought Porco a long list of complaints and woes about the various troubles you’ve found yourself with.

And it’s this tired and troubled expression that Porco decides to paint you with. It’s so different from the other wistful expressions Porco has made and so different from anything that he’s ever seen you with. It’s refreshing and reminds him that, like him, you’re still young and learning. That there’s also so much life that you have yet to live as well. Of course, there’s still a softness in your eyes.

There always will be, he thinks.

The bar in the background is buzzing with action and Porco tries his best to capture everything. The people dancing in the background, despite no music playing. The bartender swiftly attends to everyone there while the waitress seamlessly moves through the crowd.

And Porco, who has grown weary from listening to your complaints can only think about you. About how he still feels so strongly about you despite knowing that you’ve changed from the innocent and naive girl he knew before. He thinks about how your hand would feel if you were to just reach out and grab it.

He thinks you’d blush bashfully but wouldn’t pull away. Porco has always known of his affect on you and is happy to see that that hasn’t changed.

But he can’t bring himself to ask you to give him a chance. Like before the words just don’t seem to leave his mouth. He can’t see the benefits of risking what you already have for something uncertain. Especially if it doesn't work out.

---

‘You’re my inspiration.’

The fourth painting is created two weeks after the second and third.

Porco’s mother had heard you were in town and basically forced Porco to invite you to dinner before you head out for some other foreign country. You’d been commissioned by some famous singer to take photos of them for their next concert and you were never one to turn down such an exciting job.

You’d leave as early as next Monday but before that you would attend dinner with Porco and his parents.

The dinner was short and mostly filled with subtle hints from his mother that the two of you should get together. Parents always did that, didn’t they? Put their heads into a situation when they think that two individuals would fit together instead of trying to read the room and see why they aren’t. But Porco can blame his mother, not when she looks so happy talking to you.

Eventually, you head into this room (though it’s more like a studio) and see the first three paintings he’s made.

Porco would have thought you’d been weirded out if not a little uncomfortable but you were ecstatic. He daresay inspired. Thinking back on it he supposes that you, being an artist yourself, saw it more as a mutual and professional relationship rather than something romantic and personal.

You told him that he’d be able to make it professional. That his work would go on to be more popular than your own.

Then, for the first time in years, you ask him to take a photo.

Porco paints you with a bright smile. An excited one that resembles the ones you used to always have when you were young. You can’t see the top half of your face as you hold a camera up towards the viewers but anyone looking can tell that looking at him (or the viewer) with a warmth that’s reserved only for those that you hold in the highest regard.

Back then, Porco wondered if you thought about those paintings of his when you left. If you wondered about the other people he might have painted or the other things that might have inspired him.

If you knew that you inspired him.

He never found himself able to tell you that himself. It was simply… too embarrassing. Or at least back then it had been too embarrassing. Now he wonders how you might have reacted if you knew in the first place.

---

‘Would you like to dance?’

A year after your brief meeting in your hometown Porco receives an invitation to your latest showcase. It’s a traditional sort of galla in commemoration of your latest Muse, ‘The Dancer’. Porco doesn't know much about the dancer - just that you happened to meet them while photographing the wedding and were taken aback.

Porco had only decided to attend because the gala was being held close to where he happened to be staying.

And here is where he takes the inspiration for the fifth painting.

Everyone, including you, is wearing masks and beautiful flowing clothes. The women are in bright dresses and the men in warmly coloured tuxedos. The dress code had been formal but Porco hadn’t been expecting something like this. Porco had gone to the gala wearing a dark green suit, his military uniform.

He’s given strange looks but the only gaze that really matters is the one from you.

He paints you from the side as you stare off into the crowd. Your clothing is breezier and lighter than what the others around you are wearing and it matches the green Porco has decided to wear. You’re staring out onto the dance floor but all Porco can see is you.

Your hands are behind you back in the painting. As if you’re peacefully staring out at something scarene.

And here, Porco wonders if you want to head out onto the floor. He wonders if you’d take his hand and dance with him. Everyone here seems to be watching you with baited breath but they don’t seem to come any closer. A distance between you and everyone else.

Would you want to dance with him?

He wonders if you even know he’s there.

But you have always been like this. The kind of person to get so swept up into a single moment. Unaware of everything else around you.

Or course, Porco never does manage to ask you to dance. But how could he? Not while you were looking at someone else the way he looked at you.

---

‘I love you.’

The last painting of you is the last moment Porco had spent with you before everything had come crashing down. But it isn’t painted after that moment. It isn’t painted for years and years. It isn’t painted until then.

The canvas is a mixture of blacks and dark blues with a brilliant array of colourful stars.

You’re standing waist deep in water with you back to the audience staring up at the dark sky being filled with splashes and blurs of colour. Bright pinks, blues, yellows and greens. Momentary flashes of colour that have come to be known as fireworks. Porco tried his best to capture the awe and amazement despite not being able to see your face.

You dragged Porco to the late night carnevil to see the fireworks. The two of you had agreed to meet up a year before but Porco hadn’t been expecting to stay here this late into the night.

The two of you had somehow ended up falling into the water when the fireworks had begun.

It was a brilliant moment.

You loved the flash of colour in the sky.

Porco loved the flash of life he saw in your eyes.

And after that night Porco had planned on painting this picture of you immediately. But then… he got sick. And then life got in the way. One major mission and then another life event. And another day of rest would push it onto the next agenda and so fourth.

And it isn’t until he hears the horrible news that the world around him seems to slow.

No, his world had halted.

In all the pain and misery, Porco finally emerges with this piece of you. A cumulation of his blood, sweat and tears. A cumulation of everything he never managed to say. The three words that he wishes he could have at least told you once.

And it’s strange.

Back then, he’d never been able to say those words - and he doesn't think he ever would have even if things had been different. He’d have never been able to say those words because he knew that you never felt the same way that he had.

---

“Who is she?” Asks a young girl.

Porco thinks that she reminds him of you. Sure her appearance and clothing is different but she has that same wonderfilled and innocent smile you did when you were in the springtime of your youth. So bold and excited for the world that you’ve yet to meet.

And Porco smiles, “someone I loved.”

Fall in love with someone that inspires you.

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #porco galliard x reader #someone you loved #100 ways to fall in love

50 notes · View notes