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saerotonins · 5 months

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the love that came back

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

"what more could you wish for?

when the love you once lost, came back into your arms again,"

content warnings: jjk shibuya arc spoilers, angst, fluff if you really squint, little dialogues, going through grief and depression, pure pain, just reader's life through her perspective, implied major character death, bittersweet, depictions of the afterlife, happy ending (i promise)

wc: 4,933

note: i'll just be letting my feelings out because we're about to mourn LMAO enjoy!

inspired by and best enjoyed with: this love by taylor swift

October 31, 2018

when you heard a knock on the door, you expected kento to great you with a smile on his face and a sweet kiss to your lips.

but what you got instead is shoko right in front of your doorstep, giving you the news that your fiancée lost his life in the middle of the war across shibuya— then you felt like your world had crumbled right before your very eyes. he had promised. he had promised to come home to you tonight and come trick-or-treating and give the kids around the neighborhood some candies.

kento never breaks his promises, especially when it comes to you.

but there's always a first time, as they say.

you felt your knees turn into jelly as you fall onto the floor, eyes wide, and heart incredibly shattered. you couldn't believe what you were hearing, this must be a sick fucking joke. there's no way the love of your life is just gone like that. he doesn't fucking deserve this.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," you hear shoko said as she guides your limp body to sit on the couch but you could hardly hear her between your ragged breaths and the ringing in your ears.

what would her apology do anyway? would that sorry bring him back? would that bring him to your arms once again?

you feel your eyes swell with tears and let them fall off as they please. you wail in shoko's arms, you let out the loudest screams you ever let out in your entire life but none of those did anything to the amount of pain your heart is currently bearing. and for shoko, who has seen a fair share of gore and violence in her life, has never been so disturbed and heartbroken when she saw you wept and mourn for your lover.

that night when shoko left you on your own (not that she had the choice), you drank the fruit flavored champagne you usually sip with kento as he enjoys his whiskey, downing it like it was water but it tasted different.

there's this saying that alcohol tasted better when you're happy and around the people you cherish the most.

your sweet champagne started to taste bitter ever since, and a part of you died that day.

the days have gotten colder.

you miss the way kento's arms would wrap around you, you miss the warmth that he provided, something the heater in your shared home couldn't give.

you feel empty, everything has gone silent, and you hate it. at times like this, when kento is home, you would hear him hum with the vinyl he chose to listen to going along the silent rustle of either the newspaper or a book he had been looking forward to read.

now it's just silence. it's all new to you. you almost even forgot how your voice sounded like because you had no one to talk to.

for the past few weeks, your family and friends, even shoko had visited you to make sure you were okay. but whenever they try to initiate a conversation, they only get either a curt nod or nothing. they have also noticed the change you have been going through. the usual sparkle in your eyes gone, you've gone extremely quiet, your appetite has drastically changed, but they understood nonetheless.

a few days ago, with the help of his family and from the mercy of any entity that existed out there, the jujutsu tech was able to retrieve kento's body, whatever is left, that is— cremated him and finally held a proper burial. that's the least he deserves.

you asked if you could keep some of his ashes in a little urn, and his family, bless their hearts, agreed as they know that both of you share the pain of losing a loved one. there, it sits in his study together with his pictured frame. another one also sits on your chest, a necklace that holds some of your beloved. a piece of reminder that you and him will still be together.

you walk towards back to the living room, seeing the mess that has been made because truthfully speaking, cleaning up the house was the least pf your problems when you had a lot going through. it has been really rough. every night, at 7 pm, you yearn for the knock of your door, kento's voice declaring his arrival, "hon, i'm home," he would usually say.

now, it's all gone. the clothes he had worn the previous days still in the laundry bags, untouched, for the fear that his scent might go away.

it scares you. the thought of forgetting the sound of his voice, his smell, his warmth, his company, not being near your reach, terrifies you to the core. but you have to face it all. put on a brave face, live on a life where he doesn't exist anymore. but deep in your bones, your heart, and your soul.

he's still around.

he should be. he promised eternal life with you, willingly get on one knee to put on the prettiest engagement ring you had ever seen.

the saddest part is, he wouldn't be able to see you walk down the aisle. both of you had dreamt of a wedding so perfect. you designing your own gown that would compliment his, a small wedding enough for your family and closest friends, and a honeymoon trip to malaysia where you could just bask in each other's presence, forgetting everything and savor each moment.

he had promised you forever.

and kento never lies.

but then again, there's always a first time.

it has been months. nothing has changed.

you still feel so empty. nothing has changed around the house either. sure, the living room is clean enough but the bedroom you once shared with kento stayed the same.

you refuse to wash his clothes that was in the laundry basket, you refused to wash the bedsheets, you refused to even make up his side of the bed. and despite how much you missed him, you refuse to sleep on his side of the bed, fearing that sleeping over his scent would lose him completely. it was exhausting to yearn for someone you know is not going back, but you do it anyway.

from the tailoring shop you own, many bride-to-be's are going in and out to pick out wedding dresses with their pretty engagement rings decorating their hand. it feels like a slap to the face, angering even. why do these women have to be so happy picking out the perfect wedding gown while you're out there sulking, stuck with what if's and what could have been.

what could have been your gown? his suit? what could have your wedding venue look like? what could have happen in your honeymoon?

and when you realize that it will always stay that way, it fills you with envy, but more so with sorrow.

it's so unfair to be mad at these people who were lucky enough to find the one but you couldn't help it.

you just also hate the pity smiles they give you when you answer their question, "when's your wedding?" once they caught a glimpse of the engagement ring kento gave you with, "my fiancée passed away," with a forced smile on your face. you're just thankful they don't push you to answer any more questions.

the ring kento gave you is one thing that you will never remove. aside from your necklace, this is a reminder that kento loved you enough to propose, to ask your hand in marriage. that may not be enough considering your situation, but it is something, so you keep it around anyway.

when the shop has finally closed for the day, you come home, sit on his study and sketch more of the wedding dress ideas that you had on your what could have been wedding with kento. you have gone through almost 3 journals sketching everything aside from the dresses. it was venues, suits that he could've worn, your dress, and of course sketches of the both of you walking down the aisle.

whenever you sketch, a tear falls down, then another, and another, until you cry a river all over the page, not caring if the lead from the pencil is barely there due to the wet pages or the ink from your pen is smudging. when you go back to the pages, you see it. you don't mind that it has become messy, it represents the feelings that you have. the yearning, the grieving, the sorrow of a what could've been wife to a what could've been husband.

more months pass by and it's still the same.

it's empty, it's all routine. you wake up, wash your face from the dried tears that you wept from the night before, shower, get dressed, go to kento's study just to admire his face from the picture frame where his urn is placed and say your goodbyes as you kiss his pretty face through the the frame and off you go to work.

it's clockwork, but you don't mind. it's one of the few things that kept you sane, but a deep burning hole in your heart still fire ablaze, waiting to be set off. you doubt it will happen, but some coping might help, so you pretend that you don't mind.

when the night comes, you still prepare meals enough for two, it's muscle memory, you seem to master making portions of two and you plan to keep it that way. it's one of the only ways that keeps you alive. you either save the other half on the fridge or give them to your neighbors.

you had also convinced yourself to wash the bedsheets, but you always remember to spray kento's cologne on his side so it feels like he never left, but his clothes on the laundry basket remains untouched. you have gone through multiple bottles of his favorite perfume from spraying almost every surface of the house, it's expensive but it doesn't matter. as long as it helps to keep his memory, you don't mind.

your friends and family visit you from time to time, to check up on you. they know you're just putting a smile on your face, it's obvious, because your eyes don't shine like they used to, but that's fine enough for them. they also noticed how the house strongly smells like him, but they don't complain anyway.

and as you close your eyes, you take one careful sniff of his pillow that you have grown accustomed to embracing every night (but you know it doesn't feel the same but it would suffice), and drift yourself to sleep as quiet tears fall down.

today is a pretty quiet day. you took a week off from the shop but you're lucky enough that your sister is more than willing to help you. you've been doing nothing but cleaning around the house, watching shows, doing strolls across the neighborhood, visiting parks, and mostly sleeping. it wasn't the most productive way of spending your days off but these are just the things you do with kento when he was still... alive.

it was usually lively when you do it, but now it's quite different. the hums he would usually do to accompany the vinyl he is playing and the quiet rustle whenever he turns a page on his books, all gone. the silence is so loud that you could swear you can hear a hair pin drop. you could only hear the swirls of the fan and your breaths.

it's silent but it's deafening.

you stood up from the couch and decided to spend some time in his study. these months, you had been spending a lot of time there, doing whatever you can to bring some life into it.

kento has always been an organized man, not a speck of dust present or a single item misplaced. but ever since, you always thought that it looked like no one was there to inhabit it anymore. so, with a silent apology, you try rearranging things around, keep his lounge and study chair warm but that's about it.

once you entered his study, you remembered that kento has a lot of books left unread. he has been planning to get around and read it. but now he can't, the thought just broke your heart.

skimming through his shelves that was adorned with many books, one caught your eye. it was slightly misplaced, leaning towards another book with a bookmark sticking out.

kim jiyoung, born 1982, it read.

you remember this book.

October 24, 2018

"dear," kento had called out as you were scrolling through your phone with your head on his lap.

"you should read this book sometime, i think you'll like it," he said, making the book cover more visible so you can read the title.

"kim jiyoung, born 1982?" you read out loud.

"yeah, it's a very powerful book from what i've read so far, i think you'll feel the same way about it,"

you hummed, with the busy schedule around the shop, you're not so sure, "i'll borrow it from you when i finally have the time, besides, you can finish reading it first and tell me your thoughts about it, how's that sound?" you say with a smile on your face.

"sounds like a plan, but i can read it a lot to you right now?"

you like the idea he proposed, his voice is relaxing so you definitely won't mind.

"okay, but i like it better when you read it to me anyway,"

a small smile escaped from kento's lips as a playfully scoffs, "whatever you say."

you hear him clear his throat before reading, "when jiyoung was in fiftth grade..."

for the next few pages, you felt your eyes grow heavier as you heard his soothing voice grow quiet and let yourself drift asleep.

you regret sleeping on his voice that day. if you would've known it was the last time you would hear him read a book to you, you would've listened more attentively, record his voice, and listen some more. you feel your lips quiver as you feel tears threatening to leave your eyes.

you pick up the book and opened the page where the bookmark sits and you realize he's almost halfway through. you remember him saying that he'll get back to reading it after halloween once his schedule opens up.

guess that will never happen.

you sit on the lounge chair on the drawer where his urn and picture frame is placed. through shaky hands, you remove the bookmark and open the book wider.

"kento, i'm sorry if my voice isn't as soothing as yours but i will try and help you finish this, so just listen and relax, alright?" you voice is shaky and cracking, and you hope he won't mind, you he will listen just like you did, you hope he closes his eyes and rest wherever he is.

after releasing a ragged sigh, you read, "jiyoung's mother received information that the new..."

as you read through the pages, your ready becomes more and more sloppy, sometimes having to repeat sentences or words when you feel like you didn't say them properly. some of its pages soaked with your tears, and take deep breathes when the pain is caught up in your throat. you give kento a silent apology for ruining his books.

and you hope it's enough, because that's all you can do.

hope.

from then on, you finish book after book during your free time, slowly going through the unread books across his shelves. as time passes by, you may have gone through a lot of his books but reading them never goes easier. every time, you would flood the pages with tears, your breaths are never steady, and by the end of every reading, you would hug the book and close your eyes, sometimes creasing some of its parts.

and you hope he doesn't mind.

July 03, 2019

this is his first birthday that you would have to celebrate alone. and the thought breaks your heart.

as you set the cake on the table beside his picture frame and light the numbered candles.

you blankly at the flames on the cake. he would've been 28 today.

you take a very deep breath and started to sing.

"happy birthday to you," tears started forming in your eyes, singing the song out of tune and through your shaky breaths, "happy birthday to you,"

"happy birthday, my dearest kento," you take another deep breath.

"happy birthday to you." you sang for the last time before blowing out his candles.

another deep sigh. you kiss the pendant that sits on your chest, "i love you," and then the engagement ring on your ring finger, "so, so, much."

from then on, every time the 3rd of july comes around the corner, it becomes clockwork. you sing, blow the candles, kiss the pendant and the ring, and eat the cake all alone.

it never gets any better, though.

through the years you watch the numbers from the candles grow older.

but you know deep inside he doesn't. the ticking of his clock has stopped.

and so did yours.

October 31, 2019

you dreaded this day to come. on the same year, you managed to come across both of kento's firsts.

his first birthday without him celebrating with you and his first death anniversary.

ever since his funeral, you never had the will in you to actually visit his grave, where his family decided to bury his ashes. you were a coward, you admit.

but losing someone you loved the most is never that easy to get over with.

having to come face to face with your lover's grave is no easy task. you touch the tombstone where his name is engraved.

Nanami Kento

July 03, 1990-October 31, 2018

your soul will always be in our hearts

you sit onto the green grass, put your arms on his tombstone and rested your head over it.

for a while it was silent.

until a rain of tears eventually dropped.

"you're so unfair, kento," you said. your voice hoarse but considerably unnoticed as the pain took over. "you said you'd come home to me, but you didn't," you don't care if there were other people around you, you need to let go of the bottled-up feelings you had for the past year. and so you wail, and wail, and wail, and yell about how much of an asshole he is for leaving you alone. cursing every entity that exists for not protecting your beloved enough. the anger through your voice seeps in but you know deep inside that he's not an asshole. you're just mad and you don't have any way to cope but this.

but your cries have been met with silence, a daily reminder that he's really not here with you. and it breaks you.

"i love you so much, i miss you so much, i'm sorry for being mean. rest well, my beloved, you have done so much." you say and seal it with a kiss before going back home, if you could still call it that.

every year when this dreaded day arrives, you pick yourself up and go to his gravesite. but this time, you spend your time telling him new hobbies you picked up on, adventures you've gone through, and stories that you have already told him before.

when he was still around, he would ask some questions and reply with either a comment or a laugh.

but this time you were only met with silence.

conversations with him never sounded the same.

20XX

years had gone by without him. you didn't know how you did it either. every day is a new pain that you have to face but you suck it up anyway.

tonight is just a typical night, you were tired from managing the shop and just finished reading kento a book. nonetheless, you prepare yourself a meal as you feel your stomach growling.

as you sit down at the dinner table, you notice something incredibly wrong.

this is the first time you have prepared a portion enough for one.

that thought alone terrified you to the core.

every night you miss his voice still. you wish the voice messages that he left you on the phone would suffice but they didn't. through the phone, his voice doesn't sound as soft and as caring compared to what you usually hear when he's around. but it's not like you can do anything about it, can you?

you have gone through every voice message that he sent you, hundreds and hundreds of them, but you never get tired of it. it has been your lullaby for the past years. you convince yourself that this is the same as when you hear his words fresh from his lips, but you know it's not. it will never be the same. you miss the sound of his actual voice. every laughter, every chuckle, every syllable that escapes his mouth, you miss it.

the sound from your device isn't as comforting as it was, and it scares you to think that at some point, you will forget what his actual voice sounds like. you didn't like that thought one bit.

he had flooded your senses. his touch, his smell, his voice, his love, it had invade all of you and has become a part of you and you're afraid that one of those will be forgotten so you desperately try to keep everything alive.

even when he's not.

you're old now. wrinkles have adorned your whole body and you're not as strong as you used to.

but your love towards kento remained the same. it has become stronger, in fact. being old sometimes makes your memories a bit blurry but everything about your lover is something that you could never forget.

you browse through your photos in the album that has been left. you stroke through his pictures like you can still feel the heat through his skin. you miss the feel of his sharp features and the soft gaze of his eyes. you miss the way he would kiss every part of you and show you how much he loves you in every way possible.

everything still feels like it's yesterday. while everybody moved on, you stayed. deep inside you're still living in a time where kento was existing. you know he would've loved your nephews, nieces, and your grandchildren.

after him, you never loved anyone. you could never love anyone other than him. how could you, when he's all that plagued your mind, you keep on trying to keep his legacy alive, not a part of him forgotten, that he will always be remembered.

you've been diagnosed a chronic heart disease, but whenever a pain pangs in your heart, you're sure it's not your illness, but the pain of being left alone by a lover who swore to stay by your side.

you know you don't have much time left, and you have come to terms with it, happy, even. you want to meet your lover once again. you want to see kento right before your very eyes and reach him just like you did in your youth.

so by the summer, you have decided to visit kuantan, malaysia with your family.

it's the place you wanted to avoid the most but you know now for sure you're brave enough to visit it. he would've wanted you to go here, he wanted to go here. even if you're a little late, you're glad to make it just in time.

your eldest granddaughter have been guiding you along the shore. you bask in the fresh air and the sound of the waves from the ocean. every thing is so peaceful, but you wish kento was here to witness it with you.

you inhale the air with a weak smile in your face.

one of your nephews then had helped you tuck in for the night.

it was so peaceful. and for the first time in years, you have finally let out a big and genuine smile.

you feel your eyes getting heavy and you know it's going to be the last. and you've never felt any happier.

October 31, 20XX

you have finally died twice.

you were finally buried next to the love of your life.

in your funeral, your family used the picture you took a long time ago, back when you were 27, mourning and incredibly heartbroken for the lost of your lover.

the kind elderly photographer from the studio you took your photo from was confused as to why you could have been taking one while you're young and looking healthy.

"i don't want to pry sweetheart, but if you're still young and healthy, why are you taking a picture now?" she asked, but you don't mind it one bit.

"when i die i want to look like me and my husband were the same age," you answered with a big smile on your face.

since i too, died that day, you would add but decided against it.

the lady seems taken aback but appreciates the sentiment behind it anyway.

you let out a wide smile so that when both of your pictures are put beside each other, it would look like the one you wore when he was still around.

when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the blue sky and a fresh breeze of air. you felt the grass tickle against your skin and it was pleasant. when you get up, you feel your body get lighter, it's as if you weren't old, that you were back from your youth. you looked on your arms and every wrinkle that you remember being present there was all gone.

you look around you and you see a very pleasant scenery. there were trees around and from far away, the splashes of the ocean can be heard. for some reason, everything feels light, including your heart. some butterflies swarm around you like you were a flower, you reach your hand out, letting some of them sit on the tip of your finger.

you were enjoying the company of the butterflies and taking in the beautiful scene before you.

"darling,"

you hear a very familiar voice, and your eyes immediately widen

this isn't a dream right? this is really happening, right?

you whip your head towards the direction of the voice and there you see it.

your lover, your soul, the love of your life, nanami kento.

he looks so ethereal, so peaceful, especially with the soft smile spread across his face.

you're dumbfounded but you take a step, and then another, and another, until you ran your way across the grassy field and leap into his arms. and it was—

oh.

it was so warm. just like how you remembered. you feel your tears fall from your face and weep as you bury your face on the crook of his neck. you decide to take it all in. you inhale his scent, one you have been longing for years, your hug tightens around him. oh he feels so warm. so, so, warm. it's like time has never gone by.

"i'm so sorry," kento said, apology obvious from his voice, "i'm so sorry i was weak—"

"no!" you say as you immediately face him.

"do not say that darling, don't, i know you have fought long and hard enough," you carefully lift your hand to touch his pretty face. you were shaking but you were careful, like he was something fragile, something you're afraid to break. when you finally place it on his face, he immediately leans towards your touch. "t-this is real, right?" he nods, his smile growing much wider, "we don't have to be apart any longer," kento declared with full confidence.

that sentence alone urged you to chase his lips onto yours, the kiss was full of yearning, it was passionate but never aggressive. all of those years, you share silent longings and the hurt between your lips. kento pulled you deeper into the kiss but he was careful enough to handle you gently. every apology was spilled onto both of your lips as you felt tears stream across his face, and that's how you knew he longed for you as you did for him.

without words, you knew how much kento appreciated you for keeping his memories alive. it was enough for you to know that he listened to every word you let out as you read the books in his study, every word that you sang during his birthdays, and every word that you let out whenever you visited his grave. he knew all of it. he watched you weep in sorrow which broke his heart because he doesn't know how to comfort you, but he greatly loved and cherished every gesture. and so, it is his turn to return all of it back to you.

and he now has forever to give you.

without words, you know what his lips spelled against yours.

i love you.

for once, the love that was once lost, the love that you had to let go free—

finally came back to you.

both of you have finally turned 28.

then, you feel the clock started ticking again until eternal ends.

another note: this is officially the first fic i wrote and i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i feel like this piece will always be so dear in my heart. rest in peace, my beloved nanami kento, you have fought long and hard.

#nanami fluff #nanami angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento angst #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x yn #nanami x you #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x reader

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upthebluess · 4 months

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Opportunities (Arsenal wfc x teen reader) p1

In which you get the chance to train with the first team.

This was it. The opportunity you had been working for your whole life.

Well, not quite. You hadn’t made it yet, but this offer was one huge leap closer.

Your coaches had sat you down after your last training session of the week, and explained to you that next Wednesday evening you were invited to train with the first team. You eagerly accepted, trying to act as nonchalant as possible in that incredibly exciting moment.

Your U16s teammates were the first ones to know, proud smiles appearing on their faces as you told them outside the meeting room. It was a bittersweet moment for them though, because despite being happy for you, it meant another day had gone by with someone else excelling in front of them. You were now closer to professional football than anyone else in that room.

Regardless of the overwhelming enthusiasm that you felt towards the training, it also came with a profound amount of nerves and anxiety.

You expressed your apprehension to your parents, with resulted in them reassuring you that all you could do is your best. That didn’t really help though, because what if your best wasn’t good enough? What if you didn’t even play your best? What if the team got frustrated with you?

Wednesday came round quicker than you’d hoped, and you’d barely had enough time to put extra training minutes in due to a maths exam on Tuesday afternoon. The added stress of your inability to do maths certainly didn’t help, but after all football would always be there as an escape when you needed it.

After giving up on question 11 of your test, you sat with your head on the desk and imagined every possibly scenario that could come from the training. But after 45 gruelling minutes of overthinking, you came to the conclusion that the players were human too. They would make mistakes, they would miss shots and they would lose duels, just like you.

Besides, it was rare that U16 players got the chance to play at this level, so you must be good enough, right?

As you slipped your new boots on (courtesy of your dad when he heard about the news), you took a deep breath as you finished your second and final loop of your laces.

Jonas and a few other technical coaches had come and spoke to you shortly before, explaining that the training wouldn’t be an intense one and that you’d be introduced to everyone briefly before the session. He also congratulated you for the opportunity, and stated that he looked forward to seeing what you could create on the pitch.

The butterflies were back, only this time, you didn’t have any time to dwell on them.

The grass under your feet felt perfectly manicured as you took the taunting steps towards where most of the girls had begun to crowd. Thankfully, you had spotted a girl called Sophia, who you knew from playing up with the U18s a few weeks ago. At least you knew one person.

The rest of the girls made their way to the field very shortly after you arrived, and before you knew it you were stood in a team circle next to Sophia and the one and only Jen Beattie.

Jonas began to speak.

“Ok good morning everyone, today we have two of our academy girls joining us, Sophia from the 18s and Y/N from the 16s.” He began to gesture towards you as he announced your names, everyone giving you small smiles to say hello.

“We are going to go straight into the warm up now and then into small sided matches. Due to international break coming up, we are going to use this session to get a fresh look at everyone ahead of the second half of the season”. The circle was dismissed and the other coaches split you all into warm up groups and ordered lines behind rows of cones carefully placed into the ground.

Steph lead your group and the rest of you followed. You weaved in and out of the cones in different aerobic movements.

You were separated again for matches. You were playing 5 aside matches on what seemed to be 7 aside pitches. Now you were glad that you’d done all that fitness training a few months back.

You were on a team with Viv, Alessia, Amanda and Sabrina. There were two pitches with four teams playing, the remaining one team having a break on the side playing two touch.

Your team (the red bibs) would play against the blues first. Alessia was up top, Viv and you playing in midfield but you were tracking back to defend when necessary to help Amanda.

The whistle blew and the first 8 minute half begun. The blues took small touches to attempt to work their way around your structure, but their shot was a tame one and Sabrina easily rolled it out to you on the right.

Your touch was perfectly out your feet, and you began to push into the space in front of you. You knew you wouldn’t have long on the ball, so when Lina from the other team began to close you down, you fainted left but went right. You did a quick scan and instinctively put a perfectly weighted cross into the box and it landed practically perfectly onto Alessia’s head and into the net.

1-0.

A small and humble smile crawled onto your face as you turned around to run back to position. Alessia chased after you and offered a low high five, which you happily reciprocated. The ball was back at the centre, and before play re begun, Viv breathed out “good ball”.

The game remained at such a high intensity that you felt it was becoming really hard to keep up, but you were reluctant to let it show. You continued to take on players in duels if you felt it would help the team, but knowing to play the pass if more suitable.

The game ended 5-4 to the reds, you coming away with 2 assists: one to Alessia and one to Viv.

Your confidence continued to rise throughout the session due to the applause you received from your teammates and the shock from your opponents as you played pass after pass and won tackle after tackle.

In reality, you were not a stand out player compared to everyone else, but as a 15 year old training with some of the best players in the world, you were pretty damn good.

It felt like your teams turn to sub couldn’t come quick enough. As you made your way off the pitch you immediately grabbed your bottle and leaned against the fence to try catch your breath.

Sabrina and Amanda went straight to kicking a ball on the sidelines, whereas Viv and Alessia came over to where you stood and took a drink each. They exchanged a quick glance and a small bubble of awkwardness formed. Luckily, this was quickly popped with Alessia sparking a conversation. “What age group did you say you played?”

Thankfully you were now able to speak “I’m 15 so Im supposed to be playing U16s but if they don’t have enough players I fill in for the 18s or 21s” you responded with a small smile.

“You’re really good, better than I was when I was your age” Alessia replied. Your small smile grew into a large one. Viv was yet to properly speak to you, but you put it down to her notoriously introverted nature.

Alessia went to join in with 2 touch and you leant down to re tie your shoes. Viv stayed put with her bottle.

“Do you usually do little tournaments like this?” You broke the silence that was paining you.

“Not often. Only when we don’t have any matches upcoming that we need to be reserved for”

You only gave her an understanding nod, not really sure what else to say to that. Feeling a little defeated at her lack of interaction, you stood up to walk over to play with everyone else.

“Were you not nervous today? You seem to have fitted right in. Youth players usually seem a little more shaken than this” Finally, she speaks.

“Um yeah I was beforehand, but it sort of goes away when I play”

“I get that. When I was playing football at 15 I let my nerves get the better of me sometimes and it affected my performance, but you’re handling it really well” Viv gave you a really sincere smile as she spoke, and now it made sense.

Viv had been playing professional football from such a young age that she knew the troubles and baggage that came with it, she was looking out for you.

You all went on to play a heated game of two touch, Sabrina doing you dirty a few times with some dodgy passes practically to the ground, resulting in accusations and laughter.

Once it was your time to return to the pitch, you felt more content than the first time you step foot there. Viv and Alessia had actually made an effort to ask about your life, and you had begun to develop a decent link up on pitch as well.

Your final game was slightly rockier than the others though. The other team consisted of Katie, Vic, Gio, Kim and Manu.

Your body was tiring quickly. You were starting to feel less able to run at speed and less confident going in for tackles, resulting in your head going down and performance dipping.

The game ended 3-3 but you’d missed a few chances that could’ve won the game. You thought you could feel judging eyes pierce through your back as you walked back to grab your jumper prior to heading off the field.

Defying your expectations, you saw that Beth, Viv and Alessia had stood and waited for you before they exited the pitch.

“Well done today, kid. You were hard to get past” Beth said with a skip in her step and a tone of comfort in her voice.

“Thank you”

“Did you enjoy it?” Alessia asked.

“Yeah, definitely. I’m knackered now though and Jonas said this wasn’t even intense” you spoke with a small laugh.

“It’s never supposed to be but we are all so competitive that each game ends up like a World Cup final”. You noted how Beth was such an easy person to talk to, you felt at ease near her and you’d known her personally about 10 seconds.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Alessia pondered. She seemed like such a lovely person you thought, she had encouraged you all night as you played and was always there to help you up when a tackle sent you to the floor unfairly.

“I’m not sure yet. Depends if I’m invited back and if my school will let me have another day off” you hummed, stopping your walk at the gate as your development coach called your name from the academy entrance.

“Oh you’re still at school. That makes me feel old” Viv breathed, bringing her hand to almost slap her own face.

“You will be. See you tomorrow Y/N” Beth responded, looping her arms around Alessia and Viv. All the girls gave you genuine smiles as you walked in opposite directions.

Today was a good day.

A/N

If this does well I might make it a part 2 or maybe even a story. Tips/requests are welcome, but I’m only comfortable doing platonic ones 🫶

Update: P2 UP NOW!

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc #beth mead #woso fanfics #woso community #vivianne miedema #katie mccabe #womens football #arsenal academy #arsenal #woso imagine #woso soccer

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twopoppies · 4 months

Note

Are the any new fics (within the last couple months) that are good? I’m in a reading drought and I feel like I’ve read every Larry fic there is :( I got so desperate I even thought about looking into f/m fics..

NOOOOO NOT THE HET FICS. DON’T DO IT. 😆

I think I’m just going to use your ask to post my year-end favorite fics. Hope you don’t mind.

It’s been a tough year for me, and I haven’t gotten to read a ton, but these are all excellent.

Secrets, Santa? By @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 19K) disaster gay Harry in all his bumbling, endearing glory still manages to make his incredibly hot boss (Louis) fall for him. This one has snappy dialogue, great internal monologue, and scorching smut. I’d expect nothing less from this author.

your lips in the low light by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon (E, 21K) It’s been a long time since I read a Larry Uni AU, and this one checked all the boxes. This author managed to really capture the immaturity and obsessive emotions of university age lovers arguing and breaking up, and making each other jealous, and fucking and fighting some more, and ultimately making up. Harry is bratty and sensitive and Louis is dense and long-suffering and they’re perfect for each other.

Scorpions et Madragores by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter (E, 23K) Read the tags and author’s note on this one because there are some themes that could be triggering. This is a dark fic and Harry is a pretty creepy vampire, but the story is very well told and there’s a happy ending.

2 a.m. texts by everysingleday / @sun-lt (T, 30K) This was very sweet and very funny and had just enough sexiness (although I wouldn’t have minded more. LOL!) Link is to a download.

The Doppel Effect by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (T, 6K) the concept for this fic was so original and a really compelling read, I can’t help but hope the author gets inspired to continue this ‘verse.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down. When I finally did, I picked it right back up and read it twice more. It’s that good.

one conversation by fondleeds (NR, 1K) This really is just a couple of scenes, and the story is open-ended, but, if for no other reason, read it for the beautiful way the sentences flow. My notes on every fic of theirs begin with: “I wish I could write like this.”

Night Shift by banaanipoika (E, 9K) This was incredibly sexy and beautifully written. I loved that there was such a unique setting with so much descriptive language making me feel like I could smell and feel everything in that hospital room.

On The Pull by @homosociallyyours (E, 4K) Short, but really sexy and just the right amount of bittersweet and hopeful. Loved the characterizations and the smooth writing. So few people write canon Larry these days so this was a nice change of pace.

Devil in my brain, whispering my name by @lunarheslwt (E, 9K) i i thought this author struck a great balance between the dirtiness of a demon defiling an angel and the way the angel gave in to his desire to be defiled. Super sexy.

pull you closer (kiss me harder) by @sunshineandthemoonlight (E, 6K) This was absolutely beautiful — just the perfect amount of tension and wistfulness to make me tear up. But then it was sexy and full of hope at the end. I loved how Louis supported Harry and gave him exactly what he needed (and really, H gave Louis what he needed, too).

#my fic rec #Favorite fics 2023 #Larry fic rec

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sordidmusings · 3 months

Text

Fixing What Ifs (Mihawk x F!Reader)

A/N: For this ancient request (told you they are not forgotten just severely neglected 💀). I really hope I captured the type of scene you were looking for! Debating on writing a follow up smut because sex as the culmination of pining?? That's that good good right there that is. Bless up to @fanaticsnail for cheering me while writing this, would've very much struggled without you love bug 🤍🤍🤍

Listening to: Prove Your Love - Fleetwood Mac, Go Slowly - Radiohead, Love Song - Lesley Duncan

Word Count: ~4.5k

Warnings: Fem!reader, a gratuitous amount of mutual pining, kind of bantering?, Mihawk leans opla in that he has such sass, a few flashback scenes, Mihawk is a Man who does not know how to deal with being in love, but he’s trying like a lot, I mean he even kisses your wrist, probably idiots in love, there's one brief allusion to Buggy cuz I Need Him

Snippet:

“You say that as if we’re too old to have options.” He spoke quite steadily, but you noticed his golden eyes flicking to you, ravenously seeking your reaction. You knew he was trying to cover at least a little; your equal skills in observation were a beauty and a bane to him. It was your favorite source of bickering, giving you many lines to smile at when you were stuck in lonely nights tracking targets.

“You are in your forties,” you teased. Again, you took a sip to think. You meant to find some words to match his characteristic tone (“Joints still working well enough to properly share a bed?”), but instead what came out was “though you’ve aged better than I imagined in our twenties”. You blamed that you had finally looked over and taken in his face, sculpted angles all alive and aglow in the torch-light. There was also that defined chest that he maddeningly always insisted on showing everyone. You probably would too, looking like that.

“You should know by now I always exceed expectation,” Mihawk said without a hint of gloating, just simply stating an absolute fact.

“There’s still many places I’ve yet to see that proven,” you responded, words coy and teasing but smile easy and affectionate. Mihawk would need much more intimacy before he admitted how that smile stalled his thoughts. You would need much more boldness before you let him know you noticed when you managed to halt his breath.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“I’ve chosen another I want you to try. Push your glass this way,” Mihawk prompted gently. Years of knowing him let you pick up the hints of eagerness hidden under his usual drawl.

You watched Mihawk’s hands and forearms work as he opened another bottle to share. He had foregone his coat tonight, instead draping himself with a well-cut white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows and buttons undone to below his sternum, of course. Toned muscle danced under his skin with every twist and turn, leading you to great distraction throughout the process of him serving you. After enjoying the sculpt of his large hand while it gripped the full bottle to pour your glass, you changed your attention to the luxurious material of his shirt, fluttering over his chest and playing against tanned skin and his heavy gold cross. You wished you could find an excuse to pull at that hem, testing the softness of the material and making it reveal more for you.

The dark green bottle thumping back down on the bartop brought your attention away from your companion and back to your refreshed drink. You did feel a bit guilty that Mihawk’s description of the new wine was going near completely ignored (you at least caught the words “barrel-aged”, flattered he remembered your offhand comment about that preference from months ago). You just couldn’t get yourself to pay attention; your mind was swimming through multiple years at once any time it wasn’t grounded by his visage. Wistfulness had a stranglehold on you tonight, keeping you locked between painful yearning and bittersweet nostalgia. The comfort of hearing his smooth voice accompanied by the quietly unfolding lives of every stranger in the bar did reach you, however. You took solace in that while you went for your first sip.

“You’re much quieter than usual,” Mihawk prodded with dry displeasure. That displeasure was interrupted when he got to enjoy your usual show of flicking your tongue out to lick your glass and then your lips upon the first taste.

You took another, much longer sip of your drink to delay the need to respond. It was an easy choice of diversion; the wine was exquisite as always. You’d tell him as much if you were more in the mood for the gloating, simpering glow he’d get from earning a stroke to his ego from you.

“I thought you’d like that,” you offered quietly. You swept a fingertip around the slick rim of your glass, mindless in your feeling and seeing and doing. This absent state let Mihawk watch for every detail of the action to better imagine how that trailing fingertip would feel against his skin.

“Clearly you’re not as observant as you think,” he dug back, this time with much more amusement warming his voice, yet not quite enough to completely melt the snideness out.

Despite yourself, you smiled. Years of rivalry softened you to affection. Over those years of pushing yourselves and each other, bitterness became respect, respect became comradery, and comradery became admiration. In you, that admiration had long bloomed into devotion, petals bursting open in a stalwart stand against his consistent frigid air. Some days they withered, but then he would reach to you, hearten you, or defend you in a way that would have new buds growing more and more numerous until you had a field that could withstand winter's chill, turning to ice sculptures in each frost instead of decaying pulp.

“I blame your wines,” you chuckled, still taking yet another sip despite the accusation. “They have me stuck reminiscing.”

“I’d advise against that; it’s a trying endeavor. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Mihawk teased, doing a great job of masking his fondness with wry wit. He did venture to expose his curiosity, however. “Where and when does your mind have you trapped?”

“Our first meeting.”

Mihawk barely managed to keep from choking on his wine. He didn’t want to tip you off on how much that memory affected him. And it would be a shame to waste such an expensive drink.

“Why would you be thinking of that ridiculous affair?” There goes the effort at keeping you in the dark.

“What?” you asked with mock shock. “The only thing that was ridiculous was how little you trusted the top marksman to do her job.”

“You didn’t exactly scream competency,” Mihawk defended, hiding his fluster behind rudeness and the rim of his glass. The dim lighting of the bar would have hid it for him anyway; the few torch chandeliers did wonders for turning him to a living Baroque painting, but they were known for their shadows more than their breadth of hues.

“That is one thing you always did have on me,” you relented easily, more set on imagining the immaculately groomed and glaring warlord who first saw you than needing to keep a score with his modern counterpart at your side.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“They asked for me for a reason, you’re more useful elsewhere.”

“I’m useful everywhere you’ll find,” he dismissed easily, as sure of that fact as in the rising of the sun each day. You were a hard one to shake, but the way his namesake hawk’s eyes cut through you had you feeling exposed and vulnerable. It had you needing to make him just as small as the little pieces his endlessly picking gaze had shredded you into.

“Then go be useful as something other than my shadow. Some of us are actually working.” Even in your exasperation fueled anger, you sounded more like you were asking than telling. The ease with which he commanded was yet another skill you’d spotted on him so quickly in these few days together that had you feeling out of your league. You were beginning to think he took great joy in your mounting discomfort with the way he hovered around, always looking for another soft spot to peck at.

“You’ve been laying at this spot for days, Viper, with nothing to show for it,” Mihawk said, phrasing the truth quite unfairly. Viper was the code-name gifted to you in your work; the snakes could sit still as the dead for weeks, waiting for the one moment that prey finally crossed their path. That same dedication was what he was attempting to disturb now. “I could have rooted the rats out within the hour of mission's start.”

“Then it’s a good thing this task is mine and not yours,” you spat back, finally finding the will to sound truly mean. There was much you were uncertain of but your methods were a strong sense of pride and no one got to question them. “I’m sure the trafficking victims would do really well avoiding harm in the slaughter you’d start. They are known for being battle-ready after all; I’m sure they’re just playing victim right now so they can partake in a song-worthy escape and claim their glory.”

“You think I have no skill to guard and fight at the same time?”

“I think it’s not worth the risk to innocents just to feed one man’s insatiable ego,” you grumbled, spreading yourself out on your familiar and beloved blanket to begin this day’s long watch. You lined one eye with the one-of-a-kind scope of your rifle, taking comfort in settling into your power. “Better to wait until they show themselves and pick them off from miles away, letting them panic at the suddenness of death from a foe they’ll never see.”

Your memory never granted you Mihawk’s perspective on your first job together. You never figured out that he was hovering not from hatred of your perceived incompetence but an uncontrollable need to have you in his sight. He’d never had to contend with such an impulse before and found himself completely at the mercy of its whims. Garp was not happy with the freshly titled Warlord; he was meant to be helping eradicate the rebel legion that had taken this island over to ravage it for resources (humans included), not keep checking out their prized sniper like he’s a fifteen year old with his first female fixation.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Surely I can be of much more entertainment to you in the present than in whatever foggy memories you have,” Mihawk said, successfully bringing you back to him.

“Yes you can,” you admitted with too much authenticity and affection for your tastes to just leave that flavor in the ari. After a moment of thought, you softly bumped your shoulder with his and added, “You’re practically a whole circus over there, how ever could I look away?”

You didn’t expect the long and tired sigh to deflate the man next to you, leaving his upper body draped on the bar. The sound seemed to have come from so deep in his lungs that it was born from his very soul.

“Please keep all talk of circuses and especially clowns to a minimum,” Mihawk pleaded into his forearms. He lifted head to look at you with one of the grouchiest and most sour faces you’d seen on him in a long time, before plopping it back into his arms. The whole thing was only made more endearing with the way the bar had pushed his hat askew.

“What’s with that look?” you laughed. “You usually save that one for Shanks.”

“I wish it was Shanks,” he grumbled petulantly. Your laughter always brightened him back up and he longed to turn and see the beauty of it on your face, but instead chose to keep to his brooding to prolong the sound just that much more.

If it wouldn’t send him up the wall, you would have told him how much you adored when his brooding turned pouty. It sapped him of his persistent decorum and made him feel closer - more touchable. The slouch it brought out in him always had you valiantly fighting the urge to wrap his curved chest in a firm hug. It was unfair how perfectly suited for one he looked, resting his elbows on the bar and opening him and his luxury shirt and his warm skin up for your reaching hands and arms. You shook your head after a mourning sigh and took another sip of heady wine.

“I wish it was Shanks too. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.” The soft spot you always showed for the Red Haired Pirates only threatened to drag Mihawk’s mood low again. It was amended slightly by your cute, happy gasp before you said, “We should go visit them soon! I’ve got a bigger chunk of free time after the next two months.”

Mihawk was always amazed by how easily tiny little gestures from you perked him back up and got his heart leaping. All you did was choose to say “we”. He wished and wished that it was always “we”, but he’d take what he could get. Even if it meant dealing with the usual treatment whenever you were both with Shanks and his crew.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk was not fond of the look Shanks was sending his way. It was all too smarmy, built on equal parts smugness and giddiness. Disgusting.

“You dog! When I tried to imagine what could have the unshakable Dracule Mihawk off his game I never would’ve guessed it was our dear Viper,” Shanks teased cheerily, bumping his shoulder into the rigid one of the swordsman next to him. Mihawk was affronted - he nearly spilled his drink from Shanks’ boorish behavior.

“Didn’t know she was yours,” Mihawk grumbled, attempting to sidestep Shanks’ prompts to have him speak his infatuation aloud.

Shanks was fighting poorly to hold in his laughter; Mihawk was absolutely sulking while he watched Yasopp teach you more gun spinning tricks. You and the sharpshooter were always all joy and play, easily finding common ground in marksmanship but with the added fun of showing your separate specializations to each other. Each bout of laughter from your direction brought another brooding line to Mihawk’s furrowed brow. This standoffish air was his habitual defense against the raw ache he’d been tending to since the two of you met.

Every time I try to play, I end up wounding her, he lamented. Why can I not earn your laughter?

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk lightly shook himself of the memory. On instinct, he turned to look at you and found you already looking at him but not really seeing him. He quietly huffed through his nose at losing you again to your own mind. He decided to give you a moment before getting to the bottom of whatever it was that had you in your funk. Beyond selfishly wanting your rapt attention, he was worried for you. You were prone to take pause and think long, especially when in quiet company, but you seemed truly lost in your own mind, taken against your will.

Mihawk’s accurate read on you was more proof of the years tentatively building rapport with each other. That intimacy you shared, which lacked the intimacy you so craved, was what had you held hostage in one of the many examples of your entwining lives.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

The quiet in the air was broken only by Mihawk’s calm breathing, his occasional quiet sips of today’s wine, and the gentle rustle of a turning page. Your own breathing was silent, having gone so long and smooth it was imperceptible due to an instinct trained in so no need of your body could get in the way of your shot. Luckily, your targets were always at such a great distance that Mihawk’s casual lounging would never alert them that they were being hunted.

“It’s been twelve hours since you’ve eaten,” Mihawk told you in a bored tone, eyes never leaving the pages of his book. You made to ignore him and continue your work, but he had never been able to stand your attention off of him for long. “Almost three since you’ve taken a sip of water.”

“Sorry, Mom, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” you mumbled back evenly. You had long lost the majority of your bitterness toward his nitpicking, instead just glad he was around and saying anything to you.

“If I was your mother, I would’ve commanded you to just let me take the target out in the first place so we could leave this boring island,” Mihawk complained.

“You really gonna take a swing at them from two miles off?” you asked, smiling as you imagined the chaos wrought from such an action. It would be a catastrophe, but it would also give you quite the show. Over your time knowing him, you’d seen Mihawk’s innate beauty and untouchable prowess countless times, but it was never enough to sate you.

“You’re not the only one who can hit a target from that distance,” Mihawk reminded you and you hoped you weren't imagining the tone of a smirk shaping his voice.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one of us who won’t cause a tsunami in the process,” you giggled at him.

Again, your diligence robbed you of the chance to see the poignant longing overtaking Mihawk’s face when he smiled at you. He relished every step he’d gotten closer to being the source of your joy.

~ ~ ~ ••• ~ ~ ~

“You’ve disappeared again,” Mihawk complained after sending a haughty tut your way.

You offered an apologetic smile and were happy that he accepted it readily. All those memories, years of feeling, and liquid courage built a full storm inside of you until you knew you needed to allow yourself some time in the eye of it. Being surrounded by the roaring weather would be nerve-wracking but you hoped the calm at the center helped protect you from those shredding winds. You blew a heavy sigh over your drink, refusing to look from its dark, blooded tint when you asked, “Have you ever wondered what it would’ve been like if we were together?”

He didn’t answer right away. Usually Mihawk was a man who was quick with his words, as sure in speed and precision with their strike as he was with that of his sword. You respected that sureness and bold weaponizing of his thoughts, but you deeply appreciated that, with you, he would take the time to truly parse his words when he felt the need. It suited your nature better; your patience was as legendary as your ability to shoot the wings from a fly that was miles off from the end of your rifle.

“You should know by now I always exceed expectation,” Mihawk said without a hint of gloating, just simply stating an absolute fact.

“Mihawk, my dearest adversary and cherished… friend,” you hesitated on the word, never having claimed him as such to his face before. He rewarded your bravery with a gentle bump of his knee against yours and with the bare fondness that began softening his stare. “We have been playing this game, dancing this dance, for decades now. Am I really meant to believe that one question changes everything?”

“The right question can,” he asserted immediately. He opened his mouth to continue, but for once you were the one striking quick with your words.

“You are a man who does not hesitate,” you accused, staring cuttingly into his focused gaze, not backing down at the way it became shielded. “If you want something you take it.”

“And?” Mihawk prompted, tone the most biting it's been all night.

“And,” you repeated. “And…”

You sighed in defeat and turned back to your drink, closing yourself away. He was more than smart enough to know where you were going with that, but he insisted on making you be the one to say it. You wouldn’t allow him to make you insult yourself, especially after you had ventured to bring up the tenuous topic in the first place. If he refused to argue or even acknowledge your conclusions, then you’d let your drink be the friend to assuage those old hurts. The echoed sigh to your side did little to move you from your new stake out with your wounds and your wine.

Mihawk pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to call you foolish so his own mind would stop branding him with that word. He had been ever vigilant of you throughout the years, not only in an effort to soak you in every moment he could, but also to latch on the moment he noticed you offering him a true opening. You had finally bared your throat to him and he had managed to fail at your final test to check that he would not stoop to bite - that he would only beg to kiss.

While taking his next sip of wine, Mihawk extended an olive branch in the form of a thigh pressed firmly into yours. He was barely able to keep in the frustrated growl that pressed at his chest when you shifted yourself away. You did turn your eyes to him out of curiosity, however, but he missed the look completely, too busy reassembling himself. It let you watch carefully as the flaming lights turned his hat’s extravagant feather amber in their glow when he lifted it off his head to place on the bartop. It let him run his fingers back through his thick black curls, trying to shake his disappointment off with the teasing of his strands.

He looked over at you and finally caught on to your observing. Mihawk let his regret pour over his face, even letting his lips twitch into a momentary, rueful smile. You replied with a tired smile of your own. In the end, it turned sweet and loving; a bad habit of yours with the swordsman. You pressed your thigh back to his.

In a rare show of humility, propelled by the heat of your thigh warming his and the sweet crinkles your smile brought to your eyes (Just for me, he thought with doting greed), Mihawk took your hand and bowed himself low to touch his forehead to your knuckles. His thumb soothed gentle circles into it while he stayed lowered to you for a few long breaths. He was eager to enjoy the feeling of your skin and the decadent scent of your perfume, strong now with the proximity of your wrist. You had chosen something sultry and heady with its deep notes of orchid and amber and wood, all calling to him until he acted with thought a millisecond behind instinct.

He flipped your hand over, slowly and gently, cradling it palm up in his large hand. Still stooped, he had to move scant inches to brush the tip of his nose across the thin skin on the inside of your wrist, savoring the pull of your perfume going deep into his lungs and leading his mind to a content haze. He sealed the small caress with a feathery brush of his lips over your pulse, wishing he could make himself press harder to feel your heart thump against his lips. He longed to know if it raced with the same jumping cantor as his.

When he sat back up he was met with a vision from his dreams. You had fully turned your face to him and it was lit with a deep flush made more rosy in the fire-cast light of the bar. No ambient chatter nor clinking cutlery could keep his ears from delighting in the hitch of your breath in and the contented sigh out. Another smile indulged him, this one easily crowned his favorite with its happy chuckle, pressing cheeks, and bare affection.

“I am a man who takes what I want,” Mihawk confirmed your words delicately. He continued to hold your hand, now enfolding it in both of his. You felt bright tingling shooting from the contact and the press of your thighs. They made you twenty again, staring down the most handsome and insipidly arrogant man you’d ever met and cursing your heart for its clear choice. “I take what I want, not who I want. People aren’t for the taking, little viper.”

You laughed at the title, never feeling it sat quite right. You felt you wore it well at work only. The imagery it brought up of femme fatales and their hypnotizing looks and lethal wit made you feel like a young girl cloaked ill-fittingly in her mother’s best event wear, barely able to peek your head out of the wool coat dwarfing you. Mihawk noted your discomfort with the title throughout the years but never found the proper words to have you see that all who said it were reverent when they saw how well the word wrapped over you.

“What if-” again you hesitate. You scrunch your face in anger at your nature, but before Mihawk had time to bring a hand to your face and soothe it back into a smile, you force out the words. “What if I am for the taking?”

Mihawk’s thumbs stopped their massaging and you felt his thigh jump to tense against your own. Staring into his widening eyes and how they glowed so beautifully - too beautifully to be within your reach - you immediately wished you could suck the words right back into your lungs. You made it this far though, so you instead worried at your lip and clung your hand onto Mihawk’s stalled hold.

Finally, he unfroze.

“For the night only?” Mihawk probed, wanting answers but worrying about making you close off again.

“Do you only want the night?” You tossed back to him, unwilling to turn this propositioning into a confession of the long years you have built a deep and sturdy love for him, no matter your attempts to welcome others into its halls.

“What I want,” Mihawk said, gentle and deliberate in coloring his tone with humble honestly, “is to be what you want.”

You were taken aback by the confession, but you were even more awed by the look he was giving you. He was still slightly stooped, broad shoulders gently curved and bent towards you, pulled down under the need to lower himself below you but body still gravitating towards you with the magnetism he’s been weak to since you first crossed paths. Framed by those shoulders and his wild curls, Mihawk looked to you with the sadly tinted longing you had felt seize you in his presence all this time. While the furrow of his brow and glimmer of his eyes had your brain buzzing with more hope than you’d dare let it host before, your chest squeezed at the conflict you saw in him; you knew that torment in your very bones.

“You always have been,” you whispered on a trembling breath. Mihawk’s eyes went wild for a moment where his whole body tensed and you felt his urge to pounce on you steal the oxygen from the room. He thanked the gods for a majority of his life spent learning control and restraint, while he got himself in order and pressed the firm kiss he’d longed for to your wrist instead.

“Come with me,” Mihawk commanded through lips still pressed to your skin, though it was the closest you’d heard him to begging in your entire life.

You let yourself partake in a longtime wish by moving your other hand to card your fingers back into his thick hair, happy to find that it was just as soft as you had imagined. Their trailing came back around to have your palm cup his jaw. He leaned into the touch, tickling your hand with the rub of his precise facial hair when he allowed himself one small nuzzle into your loving hold. That hand guided him up to meet your eyes so he could see the love you held for him finally displayed openly in all its abundance.

“Wherever you ask me to, I will go,” you promised.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

#mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #opla mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #one piece #request #my writing #fem reader #x reader #one piece x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #one piece fanfiction #mihawk fanfiction #opla

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micer2012 · 3 months

Note

hi :D

xisuma talked about the theory (the one game theory stole) about 38 minutes into the latest stream! (Feb 4)

he once again mentioned that yeah, he belives game theory plagiarized it, but he also mentioned that your theory included the point that was based on a rendering issue (and GT "made the same mistake") and idk if he mentioned it before but now I'm wondering what that part is 🤔

that's it ty byeee

HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT.

youtube

2/4/24 Hermitcraft 10 | First Stream with Sicksuma! 31:48:

“Hey X, big fa[n], wanted to know if you watched the Hermitcraft game theory and what you think about it.”

Yeah I did see it, and…

I still, I still have very mixed feelings about it. I don’t wanna get dragged into, yknow, um… A sorta calling people out or anything like that, but the explanation, that we were given about that had never been satisfactory for me.

I-I really think that that was plagiarized. Um- The biggest reason I think it was is because… Apart from the theory being SO on point with this fan theory, like beat for beat, the fan theory, the original one, has a detail in it, which is a complete and utter misunderstanding of something that was just a rendering issue? There was a rendering issue in the video that this fan extrapolated into meaning something. And then, so did the Game Theorists, um… fan theory or whatever you wanna call it, right? They made the same extrapolation on a rendering error, to me it was just… too uncanny, and… supposedly, no, the writers never did that, uh, y’know I’m not here to say they did or they didn’t, it’s of course entirely possible and you can never know, it’s just it never satisfied me, it never felt right.

So um, yeah, I-I still feel not too great about that. Like it was nice to have my story in a big video, that- that felt really cool, but the way in which it happened, not cool I don’t think. It just, uh, I don’t buy it.

[...]

34:35: “X doesn’t buy his own lore, that’s so damn cool” says memcbest- I don’t know what you mean by that, I’m not saying I don’t buy my own lore I’m saying- I think- I think it was plagiarism. I really do. Like I said, an uncanny amount of similarities, like beat for beat with this fan theory, and then even misinterpreting a rendering error the same way, it just- it didn’t feel right AT all. It really felt like this had been ripped off.

…So yeah, so therefore, I feel bittersweet about it. Like it’s cool that there’s a video out there on Evil X, but it… it should’ve been made by someone else, y’know. Or with the original theorist’s consent. That’s how I feel about it.

Later on he goes on about other channels not citing their sources and furthering the same misunderstanding/false info because they’re just plagiarizing from each other, but it’s not directly related so I won’t transcribe it. He says plagiarism is an interesting topic to think about. He also talks about how AI will make it worse, and about having seen the hbomberguy video ^^

I THINK. THE RENDERING ERROR HE'S TALKING ABOUT IS the point of EX's eyes reflecting as Jeff's i put at the end of my first post:

BUT ANYWAY. THIS MEANS A LOT TO MEEE THIS REALLY DOES MEAN A LOT. the stance xisumas given before this to my knowledge is "it looks suspicious but we cant know unless they say something" so to hear. someone who absolutely has all the facts, is unbiased towards either of us, say firmly game theory's statement doesn't hold up and it's Obvious it's copied from mine. IT. MEANS A LOTTTT

#XISUMA #EVIL XISUMA #HERMITCRAFT #HERMITCRAFT SEASON 10 #S10 #HC #HCS10 #JEFF THE MINION #MATPAT #GAME THEORY #MCYT #EXIAVOJTMMC #PLAGIARISM #MINE #EX

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mvrtaiswriting · 11 months

Note

Hi!

I’m wondering if I could request a sanjixreader about the reader taking a hit that was meant for Sanji but he didn’t realize, yet the reader kept fighting? I’ll leave the ending up to you.

Thank you, and I hope it’s ok

Keep fighting x Black Leg Sanji ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

i'm really sorry for the amount of time this request took me?? it had been sitting in my drafts FOREVER and I kinda forgot about it I am so DEEPLY SORRY. this was so fun the to write and literally one of my favourite requests ever, so I hope this matches your expectation and that it would be worth the wait!! thank you for being patient with me. hope you enjoy this <;33 +1k words | gender neutral | mention of needles? | usual one piece violence. feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.

A soft breeze blew out Sanji's burning cigarette, brushing through his blonde hair almost revealing his left eye. There was no way he could have survived the next attack - he was exhausted from the battle, his enemy being the strongest he had ever met before. Trying to take a puff from the cigarette he kept holding between his lips, Sanji wanted to taste nicotine one last time. As death approached him, all he wanted was the bittersweet company of his dearest friend; he wanted to feel his lungs being hugged by the warm smoke entering his airways, like a mother holds her child. That was it - he didn't have any strength left. Maybe that stupid marimo was right all along, maybe his captain deserved a stronger wing by his side.

Sanji stood still in the middle of the battlefield, waiting for his final act. He kept his eyes closed, his mind wondering what could have been if only he had a better father, if only he didn't let everyone down.

"Wake up, you useless cook!"

Was this death? Did Zoro follow him into the afterlife? No, no. It couldn't be.

"Sanji!"

Zoro screamed again, the metal sound of his swords almost serving as a background melody for the horrors of the battle. Passing an hand through his hair, Sanji noticed he wasn't bleeding - he wondered where was the headache coming from. Running his hands over his body, he noticed how he didn't feel any excruciating pain: no broken bones, no bleeding. Yet he passed out - maybe he just overestimated his enemy; maybe, he underestimated himself. Finally regaining conscience, Sanji looked around the battlefield - and a part of him wished he never did.

Your figure was moving swiftly on the battlefield, but your attacks were slower, weaker than usual. All you could do now was avoid any fatal blow, trying to recover from the one you just received. It didn't take long for Sanji to notice how you were covered in blood, your usual combat style being impeded by the metal piece stabbed in your leg, crossing your limb from one end to the other.

Biting his bottom lip, Sanji lit another cigarette. He was furious, rage galloping through his veins and giving him a rush of adrenaline he never felt before. He felt his muscles tighten, full of a strength he didnt believe he possessed - you protected his life with yours, using your own body as a shield. How could he be so weak? How dare he put you in so much danger? A sea of emotions flooded Sanji's thoughts; he was proud of you and your strength, yet he was scared, frustrated - mad at how he failed to protect you. His eyes were filled of admiration and worry - you endured a critical hit yet you kept fighting.

"Let me."

Sanji was quick to step in, putting his body between you and your enemy. Winking at you with the sexiest smirk painted on his lips, Sanji finally put an end to the battle you both had been fighting for too long. Before he could realise it, you were already lying on the floor unconscious, exhausted from the battle and all the wounds you endured.

The next thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a torchlight, pointed directed at your pupils. Too confused to follow the light as Chopper just ordered you, you tried to stand up. An heavy hand on your shoulder stopped you from moving, forcing you to lay on the mattress.

"Not so fast, mon coeur."

A familiar voice finally said, the French accent in his words revealing his identity straight away. You smiled weakly, realising the hand on your shoulder was Sanji's. Sighing, you stayed still whilst Chopper finished his job. You were full of bandages and stitches, an IV drip connected to your arm.

"Was it really that bad?"

You whined, when Chopper finally closed his medical kit bag. You saw the reindeer nod, dragging one of his little hoof onto his face.

"You're lucky to still have your leg!"

Chopper whined, frustrated with the way you were minimising your injury. Tears started forming in his tiny eyes, making you nod and fall silent - you knew he was genuinely worried and he was probably right about it.

When Chopper finally left the room, you felt Sanji slowly sitting down on the side of the bed, your mattress slowly sinking.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Sanji finally says. His tone is calm and full of worry, yet his words stung like salt on an open cut. His hand slowly reached your face, caressing your cheeks, his fingertips delicately tickling your skin. Biting your tongue, you hold back your explanations - he probably knows you were only trying to protect him, yet he was ready to scold you like a little child. You were fine, injured but alive. And you would do it again if you had to - protecting the love of your life from a potentially fatal blow? You would do it again in an heart beat.

"I love you."

These three words slip out of Sanji's mouth in a whisper, almost as if he didn't want to let them go. But now they were out in the open, filling the hospital room you were lying in.

"I love you and I want you to stay alive."

Sanji reiterated, clearing his throat. The words almost got stuck in his throat - flashback of the battles coming to him again in a blur. Seeing you collapsed on the floor, covered in blood with countless wounds all over your body. It was too much to take. He always thought nothing could scare him anymore, he always thought that there couldn't be a bigger pain than the one his father inflicted on him. But that was before this, it was before always losing the love of his life because he wasn't strong enough.

"I love you too, stupid cook. I love you and will stay alive to save your ass." You giggled, causing him to blush. Sanji stared at you for a second, the softest of smiles forming on his lips before he leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You were safe, you were his.

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 5 months

Text

you drink your coffee black and we are afraid of each other ; shoko ieiri

synopsis; shoko makes you a morning cup of coffee; turns out she’s not very good at that, but it’s the thought that counts.

word count; 4.2k

contents; shoko ieiri/reader, gn!reader (but written w a fem!reader in mind), fluff fluff fluff!!, just normal morning shenanigans at the ieiri household, implied stsg (my brand), shoko can be a girlfailure. as a treat, reader is absolutely whipped (and so am i)

a/n; been writing too much gojo n geto lately. neglecting my wife :((((((( let it be known that i am a shoko stan first human second. this one is for my wlws pls eat up!!!!

you wake up to the sound of your girlfriend’s voice.

melodic and soft, low and saccharine; almost like she’s coaxing you out of hiding. a sound so lovely you wish you could drown in it, laced together with a distinctly raspy tilt, one you can only attribute to the copious amounts of cigarettes she smoked back in high school. one that gets you a little bit weak in the knees.

a leftover residue, bittersweet memories ghosting her lips. in the mornings, it’s particularly prominent. a little intoxicating. manifesting itself as a shiver down your spine, a jolt of your heartbeat, a flush on your skin for every word that she speaks. it’s enough to have you slipping from sleep’s embrace, carried back into the cradle of reality.

why you notice her voice first, and not the smell of something burning — or the sound of insistent beeping — is honestly beyond you.

it doesn’t take long for your sleepy brain to react, however, a pang of anxiety rushing through your slumbering veins. hurriedly stirring you awake. abrupting your dreamlike, drowsy state, tangled up in silken sheets with your neck smudged by lipstick marks; an alluring red, one shoko typically favors when she’s going out for a drink. coming home just a tiny bit tipsy, affectionate and giggly.

and when your eyelids finally flutter open, your mind melting into the motion of the waking world, you shoot up in a sudden bout of panic.

because fuck, you belatedly, groggily realize — that’s the fucking fire alarm.

and shoko is spewing curses, from afar, loud enough that you can hear it even through the fog of fatigue that clouds your brain. a raspy string of words that you don’t quite catch, but they’re enough to have you scrambling out of bed, nearly bumping into the doorframe as you kick the blanket off your legs.

”what happened?” you croak out, chest heaving a little, having stumbled into the smoke-filled kitchen. disgruntled, reeling with the aftermath of your deep slumber, cold air nipping at your bare skin. the balcony door is open, and the smell of rain invades your apartment.

when you look out the window, all you see is a gray sky, blanketed by a thick coating of wool. smothered by clouds, not a single ray of sunlight slipping through the cracks. the world smells dewy and sweet, asphalt and flowers melting into a nostalgic fragrance, one that reminds you a bit of high school smoke breaks — huddling under the slide at the nearest playground, watching a pretty girl wrap her lips around a cigarette, exhaling smoke just for it to melt into the pouring rain.

one that reminds you a bit of the woman right in front of you, balancing on a chair and stretching her goosebump-ridden arms towards the ceiling, wearing nothing but a lacey bra and a pair of unbuttoned jeans. messy hair that cascades down her back, brows furrowed, eyes simmering with irritation — before flitting over to meet your own.

shoko blinks. then sighs. ”you woke up?” she mutters, and you try not to shiver when the tremor of her voice deepens, morning-fatigue seeping into the syllables. “fuck. sorry, i —”

she stumbles a little, shifting her weight from one foot to another, and you take a step forward. on instinct, as if getting ready to cushion her fall. ready to be of service, in any way you can.

”don’t worry,” she fumbles with the fire alarm, clicking her tongue. nails scraping against plastic. “it’s fine, i just need to — there we go.”

finally, the beeping stops. and your shoulders relax, immediately, the tight little ball inside your chest untangling. with a deep inhale, the fragrance of espresso and smoke fills your nostrils, and a sense of calm washes over you. rooting your feet to the floor.

shoko settles down, too, seating herself on the wooden chair. a huff slipping from her lips. they’re smudged, a blurry red she still hasn’t found the energy to wipe away.

bringing a hand up to card through her hair, lithe fingers in between her messy auburn locks, she exhales. a blend between fatigue and relief.

”god. i need a cig.”

a moment passes. she raises her head, and sees the sleepy little pout playing at your lips — her eyes softening. blooming with something fond. giving you a smile, tired, small. but reassuring.

”i’m just kidding, love,” she chuckles. “relax.”

”don’t joke about that,” you frown, rubbing the sleep from your weary eyes. stifling a tiny yawn. ”.. took me so long to get you to quit.”

(sometimes you can still see the smoke leave her lungs when she exhales.)

shoko keeps smiling, but doesn’t say anything else. the pitter patter of rain against your balcony railing fills the silence of the kitchen, still brimming with a light layer of smoke, slowly dwindling. cold air drawing it out. clad only in one of suguru’s old t-shirts, you shiver, and shoko seems to notice.

“good morning,” she coaxes, opening her arms slightly — and you move forward, a moth to a flame. without thinking. “sorry for waking you.”

she wraps her arms around your waist, attaching her jaw to the curve of your shoulder, and you melt into the embrace. leaning close, to tuck yourself into her neck. she smells like lavender shampoo. “‘s fine,” you mumble, a yawn muffled into her collarbone. “what happened? are you okay?”

when her plump lips press against the sensitive skin of your neck, right next to one of the kiss marks she left there last night, you can’t help but shiver again. she must feel it, because you can hear the smile she’s trying to bite back in her voice when she answers.

“mm,” she hums, a gravelly noise that makes your throat clog up a little. “just burned something, it’s fine. don’t worry.”

tentatively, you take a step back. just to see her. gazing down at her, into her hazel eyes, the fading crescents beneath them. not as dark as they used to be, not as heavy with lost sleep.

shoko is gorgeous. always, every single day, but you think she’s particularly breathtaking like this. when it’s early, and she’s groggy and a little disheveled, eyes weary and lipstick smudged — bra strap close to slipping off her shoulder, black lace against pale skin, moles littering her forearms and chest like star clusters. oversized jeans that expose the curve of her waist, the fat of her hips, and you don’t notice how intently you’re staring until shoko’s raspy voice reaches your burning ears.

“eyes up here, baby.”

you do as you’re told, and she stifles a chuckle. eyes rich with amusement. you try not to blush.

“sorry.” you chew at the inside of your cheek. eyes trailing to the houseplants by the windowsill. “.. you’re just so pretty.”

shoko tilts her head, an exasperated little breath rolling off her tongue. almost a coo. she’s incapable of blushing; but if she wasn’t, you’re sure she'd blush.

“thanks.” her touch is light, fingertips trailing down the expanse of your arm. “you are, too. red is a good colour on you.”

you blink. shoko’s eyes are crinkled at the edges, soft lines of crows’ feet, and you huff when you realize she’s talking about the marks on your neck. suddenly a little self-conscious, you bring a hand up to rub at the skin — as if hoping to wipe them away. you doubt it works. shoko just breathes out an airy chuckle, getting up from her seat.

she looks tired, still. stretching her limbs out, sleepily, blinking drowsily.

and it’s odd, you think. that she got up this early, that she didn’t cling to you and make you stay with her in bed like she usually does. you don’t know anyone who loves sleeping in more than shoko does. especially after a night out.

so it’s strange. very strange.

“hey, sho.”

“hm?”

you tilt your head. “why are you up this early, anyway?”

she blinks, and then glances at the clock on the wall. ticking idly, counting down. when she looks back at you, she’s got a single eyebrow raised. “it’s not really early.”

“for you it is,” you quip, something resembling a grin tugging at your lips. and she rolls her eyes, smiling, before linking her arm with yours. bringing you to the stove.

“i was, uh —“ a pause. she does a little cough under her breath, clearing her throat. “trying to make coffee.”

silently, you look at the mess in front of you; what used to be your squeaky-clean stovetop, now stained with a muddy, rusty residue. an unassuming coffee pot sits to the side, having seemingly boiled over, smoke still drifting up into the air.

shoko cringes, a little. before a wry smile makes its way to her lips. ”it was…” she clicks her tongue. sighing softly. ”an attempt.”

”… wait.” you turn to look at her, dubiously, and she avoids your gaze. ”that’s what you burned? coffee?” still no answer. a tiny smile tugs at your lips, and you can’t help it if your voice comes out sounding a little teasing. ”how is that even possible?”

”look,” shoko exhales, heavy. ”i don’t know, okay? i think it was the coffee grounds, or something. i look away for one second, and it’s just —”

a little giggle slips from your lips, and shoko shoots you a glare. mostly harmless, but she untangles her arm from your own. ”sorry, it’s just —” you apologize, failing to hide your amusement. ”why didn’t you just use the espresso machine, honey?”

she bites her lip, and you think she might be just a little embarrassed. averting her gaze, briefly flitting towards the machine in question. ”… i didn’t know how to use it,” she mutters. ”i’ve seen you do it, obviously, but i never paid attention to the steps.”

a smile graces your lips. consoling. “it’s not that complicated once you know how it works,” you nudge her arm with your elbow. ”it just looks that way.”

she hums. a click of her tongue, as she adjusts her bra strap. ”well, anyway. i tried. so.”

”right.” you try to stifle a grin, to no avail. ”so… you burned your coffee.”

”and woke you up.” she grins, herself, just a tiny bit self-deprecating. but pretty, always, hair falling over her eyes when she tilts her head. ”a mess, aren’t i?”

”not at all.”

shoko looks at you, and your eyes meet hers. unflinchingly. tired irises falling into the gentle hue of your own, trickling down to the curve of your lips. there’s an honesty to your voice that she’s never quite been able to deal with.

(love, she thinks. a kind of love she finds somewhat hard to stomach. a sea of acceptance that she fears she’ll eventually drown in.)

before she can properly fall into a morning spiral, you stretch your neck a bit, idly, and she gets a good look at the red marks littering your skin. the way your pulse beats at the base of your throat. tender, slight, a mantra she’s grown just a little bit addicted to.

”why, though?” you hum, and shoko blinks. snapped out of her thoughts, and back into reality. back into you, the faux pout on your lips. playful, but a little confused. ”i thought i was the coffee brewer of this relationship…”

and it’s true. you’ve been making shoko’s morning cups of coffee for a while, now, even before you moved in together. she likes it black, sometimes with a drop of cream, sometimes with a cube of sugar. never both. you think it’s very like her, to tiptoe that line between bitter and sweet — never entirely giving in to one or the other. there’s a balance to shoko, something stable. something for you to hold on to, a bitter tinge or syrupy taste that always leaves you yearning for more.

truthfully, your coffee brewing skills aren’t anything special. but it makes shoko happy, to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, being able to hug your back. being handed a cup of fresh coffee. sipping from it in silence, muttering out a groggy good morning that makes your heart flutter.

(to you, it’s precious. that lilt of her voice, that bittersweet tinge. the dearest thing in the world.)

plump bottom lip trapped between her teeth, shoko furrows her brows. ever so slightly. nails tapping at the edge of the kitchen counter, a series of satisfying clicks against the marble. “… well.”

she clears her throat, but doesn’t say anything else. a moment passes. you try to find the answer in the curve of her lips, the crease of her brow, in the depths of her eyes — but you don’t succeed.

something discomforting settles in the bottom of your throat. almost uncertain, maybe a bit anxious. sheepish, as your tired mind spins in circles. parting your lips. hesitant.

“do you… not like the way i make it?” there’s a dejected tilt to your voice when it spills out, one that makes you feel a little silly. so you smile, or try to, eyes trailing towards the windows; you note that the rain has grown heavier. “i can change how —“

“what?” shoko cuts you off. “no. no, of course not — your coffee’s perfect. honestly.”

again, your eyes meet. and again, shoko seems to be struggling with finding the right words. or maybe she’s struggling to voice them.

“i just… haah.” she brings a hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. you just watch, silent, hungry to hear the thoughts she’s not letting you in on.

a beat. again, the sound of the rain against steel railings, the scent of honeydew and concrete. espresso-flavored smoke, almost entirely faded, leaving only cold air to nip at your thighs.

and again, as always, inevitably, your eyes are fixed on shoko — a moth to her flame. helpless to the cinders that ghost at your skin whenever she looks at you. a certain contemplation swims inside her eyes, simmering beneath the surface, as she chews gently at the plush of her lips. before turning to face you.

you can only blink. but shoko finally speaks, clearing her throat in a way that strikes you as rather sheepish.

“well — you’re always the one doing all the work. aren’t you?” her voice trickles out into the air, low and saccharine, a blanket pulled over your shoulders. so soft you hold your breath and strain your ears, just to make sure you hear it. “i guess i figured… i don’t know.”

shoko pauses, again, and you can almost delude yourself into thinking there’s a cherry red tint to the tips of her ears. when she parts her lips, that usually carefree voice of hers sounds almost meek. almost, but not quite. more like unsure. embarrassed?

another moment passes, entirely silent. shoko swallows her pride.

“.. satoru always brags about suguru making him those fucked up sugary drinks he likes,“ she mumbles. turning around, to rest her back against the counter, looking out at the downpour. “says it makes him feel so loved. or whatnot. so i just —“

she waves her hand, haphazardly.

“you know.“

a beat. then another. you can physically feel your lips part, a kind of surprise weaving itself into the contours of your face.

and when you finally speak, your voice comes out a little garbled, scrambling for the right words. not sure if you should feel deeply amused, or just a tiny bit horrified. “wait. you’re saying you…” a moment passes. silent, slow, and all you can do is blink owlishly. in disbelief.

“… got inspired by suguru?”

shoko groans, deep and gravelly, almost comically agonized. covering her face with her pretty hands. “don’t say it,” she pleads, “you’re making it sound as dumb as it is.”

a little giggle slips from your lips. accidental, but she still shoots you a displeased look, huffing under her breath. crossing her arms just to tap at her forearm with her nimble fingers. frowning.

“don’t laugh at me.”

“sorry,” you search for her gaze, but she keeps looking ahead. so stubborn. “i don’t mean to, ‘s just — not very like you, y’know?”

shoko exhales. nearly a huff, but not quite. and you think she must be embarrassed, gnawing at her lip like that, fingers eagerly searching for something to fidget with. it makes you soften, impeccably, the blood inside your veins warming up beneath your skin. stirring you, coaxing you into soothing her. your very own heartbeat seems to be a little enamored with shoko ieiri.

”i appreciate the thought,” you smile. a tender tone, sincere. lingering with amusement. “really. but let’s not base our entire relationship around satoru and suguru of all people, alright?”

and again, she sighs. brittle, a little fatigued. brows scrunching together. ”look, i —”

a pause. she gnaws at her plump bottom lip, eyelashes fluttering like a battered heartbeat. her voice comes out sounding soft, all duvet pillows and fresh lavender, a lilt that anchors you to earth. sweet words. so honest it makes your breath hitch.

”i want to take care of you.”

and this time, you’re the flustered one. burning under her gaze, feeling a heat blossom on your skin. feeling the fervent pitter patter of your heartbeat, as her pretty eyes look into yours. a nice mocha brown.

but even with the fresh embarrassment trickling through your veins, you find it in you to speak. desperate, maybe, to cross the distance between you — even when it borders on non-existent. desperate to feel your heartbeats synchronize, figuratively or literally. to stitch them together.

“i want to take care of you, too,” you echo, looking down at the floor. and then back at your girlfriend. hesitant, a tad shy. but sincere.

a sincerity so palpable it makes shoko feel a little jealous.

(sometimes, she finds herself wanting to put a hand inside your chest. dig around your organs, run her fingertips down every single one, until she finds what she's looking for. that miraculous something that makes you stick around, that makes you so frighteningly easy to love. that makes her want to safeguard you so terribly.)

”then let’s take care of each other,” she breathes, a small smile slipping into the curve of her lips. reaching out to brush against your knuckle, weave your fingers together. delicate.

she clears her throat. “… i guess.”

and you can’t help but smile. somewhat cheeky, a little teasing. “ah,” your eyes crinkle, and you stifle a coo. “did that embarrass you?”

a sharp little scoff. shoko gives you a lazy grin, paired with a soft roll of her eyes. brushing her thumb across your knuckles, even still. “oh, shut up.”

the world seems to still, ever so slightly, as you look into each other’s eyes. like everything else is just background noise, from the pitter patter of the rain to the fading smell of coffee all around you. shoko looks at you like she’s trying to see inside your brain, see what makes you tick, see you for what you are.

and when she eventually leans in for a kiss, you’re pliant. expectant. her lips against yours, breathing you in, as soft as ever. like she’s afraid of getting too greedy. she tastes like nectar and cosmetics.

“give me some time,” she says, after pulling back. hands on your waist, squeezing softly. “i’ll make you another cup right now.”

”sure you don’t want me to do it?” you ask. “i don’t mind.”

another little scoff. offended. ”look, i’m not incompetent, okay? i’m just not used to it.” she untangles herself from you, warmth slipping away. you will yourself not to chase it. “just stand there and look pretty for me.”

and she smiles, when those words make you giggle, infected by your sleepy joy. something soft and silky blooms inside her ribcage, mirrored by the glimmer in your eyes when you intertwine your hands again. fingertips brushing against each other, delicate, a love that’s handled with care.

”.. i like making you coffee,” you whisper after a beat. smiling. under your breath, like you’re telling her a secret. ”it makes me happy.”

a moment passes. something in shoko’s bones still, for a second, enough for you to notice. and her eyes fill with a kind of hesitance. doubt, maybe. or fear.

when shoko opens up to you, it’s always like this. sleepy, rainy days, or tipsy afternoons. in no more than a whisper, a fragile breath, the ghost of a confession. when you can feel her heartbeat, one finger on her wrist, listening to the rhythm of her pulse. intimate. a little clumsy, but…

”i just don’t want you to spend too much of yourself on me.”

the words are spoken in passing, almost casually, a lighthearted kind of resignation. a hungry ghost. one that follows her, follows you. suguru and satoru, too. there’s a lump in her throat, you can tell, something that makes it a little harder to say what she means. an intimacy that frightens her in a way nothing else can; frightened to hold it in her palms, to keep it close without having it break apart.

(not just her — you all are. all four of you. that’s why you've always been together, you think, why you always will be. four hedgehogs huddling together in the cold of night, too desperate for warmth to stay away from each other's spines.)

carefully, almost cautiously, you bring her hand to your lips. as if you’re handling a flimsy sheet of glass. featherlight, a touch so tender you hope she knows what you’re about to say before the words leave your throat.

“you’re worth it,” is whispered against her skin, your lips against her knuckles. shoko softens, but you think the sigh that slips from her lips sounds just a little shaky. “always.”

and finally, you know you aren't deluding yourself. it’s there, visible, the cherry red of her ears; a red that matches the lipstick on your skin. a flush that never travels down to her face. but it’s enough.

she clears her throat. voice beginning to change shape, slowly but surely, morning fatigue peeled off with the ticking of the clock. there’s still a raspy residue, leftover smoke that’ll never quite leave her lungs, but it’s silkier now. trickling like honey from her parted lips.

and it’s terribly soft, her tongue twisting around the vowels, a low lilt that drips with tenderness. she wills herself to smile. tired, but fond. “just let me make you one cup, then.”

so you do.

you let her, after briefly pointing out the functions of the far too expensive espresso machine that satoru bought you when you first moved in, and she listens intently. those pretty eyes, the intelligence behind them, her lips pursed in focus. shoko’s a genius, you’ve always thought — so effortlessly good at memorization, at figuring out how things work. what ties everything together.

you think it’s a little comical that she struggled so much with making coffee, of all things, but you choose to attribute it to her slight hangover.

because she’s focused, when she begins to fiddle with the machine. attentive. as if she’s dissecting it. a satisfaction in the way she moves, the way everything clicks into place as she works. everything serves a purpose, every single part in the machinery, every tube or pump of caffeine. she compares it to the human body, a glint in her eyes, and you can’t disagree.

all you can do is watch her. silently, entirely mesmerized. sitting on the kitchen counter, bare thighs against the marble, swinging your legs. telling her about the dream you had, while she listens. always.

a fresh, thick aroma of espresso and rainwater begins to waft through the apartment. one you drink in, greedy, steam filling your lungs. as you admire how the tiny droplets bounce off the hyacinths blooming on your balcony.

and when she’s finished, producing one cup of espresso, tailored to your liking, you can’t still the beating of your heart. unsure if you should blame it on the caffeine yet to enter your veins, or the proud smile that lingers on your girlfriend’s lips. maybe the way her fingers curl around the handle, the way a soft here, baby, spills from her smudged lips. all of the above, probably.

she’s gorgeous. breathtaking. sometimes you want to give her everything, more than you could live without. your heart, your lungs, your eyes. anything she asks for.

but she would never. all she’ll ever need is for you to keep sticking around, keep telling her about your silly dreams, keep letting her feel the beat of your pulse at the base of your throat. a mantra she’s fallen a little bit in love with.

and when you put your lips against the ceramic, and a bittersweet scent fills your lungs, you think you can taste it. that care, a love soft enough to mend all the jagged edges of your heart.

shoko smiles. smoothing a stray eyelash from your skin, thumb against your cheekbone. “how is it?”

(you swear it’s the best cup of coffee you’ve ever had.)

#i love!! my wife!!!!#shoko gap moe is real (and heres why)#i just think she’d be a lil softer around someone she likes . shes awkward w intimacy but she treasures u so dearly :<#dont get me wrong tho she definitely has smth Wrong w her and i love that side of her too!!#i feel like she would joke abt wanting to dissect u (but is it rly a joke 🤨🤨)#if this reader seems more whipped than usual then that is bc im projecting <33 oh to live in a cramped apartment w shoko ieiri …#to have her cover my neck and face in kiss marks…….. (dies) i literally need it SO bad u dont understand. there r tears in my eyes.#title from a clementine von radics poem that i cant remember the name of … all her poems r so shoko coded tho #shoko ieiri #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko fluff #shoko x you #shoko ieiri x you #shoko ieiri x y/n #shoko x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader

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neevblanc · 4 months

Note

Aizawa with a pro hero & highschool sweetheart reader finally talking again after months (or even years) of no contact 😋

a/n —hey hey anon!! thx for sending this in! I've never written for shouta b4 despite having read my fair share of media involving him lol. i hope i can do him justice for you!!! this is such an interesting prompt hehe p.s this was literally the funnest thing to write ever im actually incredibly invested. i might as well have fleshed out a whole au for this, not that it rlly reflects it i think haha!

blanca’s cafe event!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Aizawa Shouta x GN!reader

Tags— semi-angst, awkwardness, mentions of injuries/war, bittersweet

CW/TW— Manga Spoilers?

note — quirk — Revitalize: the ability to heal wounds and injuries by simply touching the affected area. They can accelerate the body's natural healing process. Their healing abilities also extend to others. They must gain the energy to do so by taking it from enemies or using their own(think Moyra from overwatch, sorta. w/ a mix of bastille's group healing ability thing teehee).

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Have We Met Before? by Tom Rosenthal, Fenne Lily"

02:20 ━━━━━━━●─ 02:39

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ Will you know it when you see it? Have we met before?”

You hadn’t been in Japan for years, having been sent to America by the Hero Commission as soon as you had graduated from Yuuei. Adjusting to the culture (both civilian and hero) was a struggle, but you did well with your healing-centered quirk.

Once the war had taken place, the commission had called back all of the heroes they sent to foreign countries they could, and you just so happened to be one of them. All for One was a looming threat, and with the amount of casualties suffered, they sent you home to help the war effort.

You stand inside Yuuei’s walls, stomach rolling at the bleak sight. Cities had been razed while you were gone, and Yuuei had been converted into a base for civilians and heroes alike. People milled around almost aimlessly, no doubt restless, as they were afraid to leave school grounds. You make your way through the crowd, eyes focused on the building you had been directed to.

Yuuei hadn’t had dorms since you last checked, but amongst all the changes you’ve seen in your hometown, you didn’t have the energy to even question it. You hurry up the steps and knock idly on the door, rocking on your heels while you wait for it to open.

The door creaks open, and an eye with a black sclera blinks at you before it opens wider, revealing a yellow-eyed, pink girl. She grins tightly at you, obviously confused by your presence.

“Hello, can I help you?” She said, and you take note of her for just a second. Young, most definitely not any older than 17- and tired. Her demeanor screamed of exhaustion. You smile gently at her.

“Hi, Nezu directed me this way. I’m looking for your teacher. This is 2-A, right?” You say, taking a step back just in case you had gotten it wrong (which you hoped wasn’t the case, seeing as the dorms were marked with the class names). The girl nodded and opened the door further, shifting to allow you room to enter.

“Yeah! You’re in the right place.” She says, and you enter the building quickly. You take your shoes off and place them into one of the cubbies near the door, and you note the number of shoes already in the cubbies. It reminds you of school, and you can’t help but smile at the sight.

The girl hands you a pair of guest slippers, and as you put them on, she grins a little softer.

” I’m Mina, by the way.” She says. You nod, both of you making your way out of the genkan.

” You have a very pretty name, Mina. I’m Revitalight, but you can call me y/n.” You reply, and she squints a little at you.

” Revitalight? I’ve heard that name before…oh, and thank you.” She says, startled out of her contemplation as she remembered the compliment. You nodded, a soft laugh leaving you. Even with the war, she was kind and very much a child. It both saddened and warmed you how her demeanor did not wholly mirror that of the community outside.

You both make it to the couches, where another group of teenagers are milling around. Their idle conversations pause as you stand at the edge of one of the couches. You wave politely, and Mina gestures toward you excitedly.

“Please welcome American Pro Hero: Revitalight!” She introduced, and you don’t have it in you to fight the American label- you’ve been a Pro in America for longer than she’s been in school. No point in telling her you went to Yuuei, too - or that you were still under the HPSC’s rule. The others say hello enthusiastically, waving from where they were sprawled out on the couch.

“Please, call me y/n.” You say, sitting on an unoccupied section of the couch.

Mina explains you’re looking for their sensei, and a girl with frog-adjacent features stands from her place on the couch.

“I’ll get Sensei down here for you then.” She says, voice horse how you’d expect a frogs to be. You send her a grateful smile.

” Thank you.” You respond, and she does little more than nod and disappear down the hall.

“Why are you here, Revitalight-san?” A boy with glasses says, and you pause to consider what you can tell them.

“The commission asked me to return, and I’ve been dispatched here. Principal Nedzu said I should head here before finding Recovery Girl.” You explain, trying to ignore the way the kids around you sober up quickly at the mention of the Hero Commission. You didn’t know how much they knew, but you hoped it wasn’t much- for their sake.

“What’s your quirk do?” A blonde asks, and you can see his curiosity blatantly on his face. You smile and raise your hand, gesturing toward him. He straightens from his flopped-over position and stands excitedly, opening his arms.

” Hit me!” He says, pouting at the bespeckled boy when he tries to get him to sit down.

” Denki, we don’t know their quirk. What if it’s dangerous,” he cautions, and you laugh a little to ease his worry.

“Don’t worry, um,” Mina whispers into your ear quickly, “Iida-kun. This won’t hurt him at all.” You reassure, and Iida settles back into his seat without further complaint.

The kids watch as you flex your hand just slightly, and suddenly, a bright yellowish-white light floats slowly from your hand to Denki, curling and moving in the air. The glow hits Denki straight in the chest, and he takes a deep breath.

“Woah.” He says, shaking out his body and looking down just in time to see the glow follow lightning-like patterns below his skin and fade down his arms. You tilt your head and eye the lightning bolt in his hair.

“Your quirk is electricity, right?” You say, prompting him to nod. The way the kids stare at you makes you want to laugh, but you hold off in case they take it mockingly.

“I can tell from the patterns it made. I only see those jagged lines from people who have lightning quirks or have been exposed to high voltages.” You explain, and Denki brightens at the information.

Mina’s about to ask a question when someone clears their throat behind you, and the kids all deflate into exaggerated whines or pouts.

“That’s enough, all of you, to your rooms. Or anywhere but here, really. If you even think of eavesdropping, I’ll have you scrubbing bathrooms for a week.” The voice says dryly, and you grin as the kids file out quickly, whining, “This is a common area; it’s not eavesdropping,” and “Sensei’s such a buzzkill.”

You turn to face them with a sheepish smile already in place.

“Sorry for intruding. Principal Nedzu said I should speak to you before,” You pause, finally registering who exactly you’re talking to. The gaze you get in return is similarly dumbfounded.

“Shou- Aizawa-san.” You stutter, correcting yourself. The man before you is every bit the boy you remember, even with the injuries you can see littering his body. The same tired eyes, pitch black hair, moody expression.

And still, you’re hit by his age. The mature structure of his jaw and the strong frame that screamed, well, Pro Hero hit you more than you’d think. Most of all, his height struck you. Last you had seen, Aizawa was pretty short for your age. He stands in front of you at six feet at least, and you wonder when a growth spurt that big hit him.

You flick your fingers anxiously, and his eyes follow the gesture for just a moment.

“Y/n. It’s been…a long time.” He says, crossing his arms in an attempt to seem casual. You can see the awkwardness of the action, though, in the way his shoulders tense and his brow furrows. The familiarity makes you a little light-headed. You smile, nodding.

“Yeah, it has. 12 years, now?” You say, looking around for just a moment to avoid his gaze. His hair, longer than you remember it being, is tied into a half-up, half-down style. He nods, and you lace your fingers together in front of you.

“Nedzu said the commission was sending someone, though he didn’t say it’d be you.” He says, and you try to find some emotion in the statement. When you don’t identify anything negative from his words, you shrug.

” Principal Nedzu didn’t tell me you were the teacher I was meeting either. Speaking of,” You hum, stepping closer. Aizawa shifts, obviously watching you but not moving away. “Sensei? Didn’t know you wanted to be a teacher, Aizawa.”

Aizawa grimaces slightly with a sigh and drops his arms from his chest to shove them into his pockets. “It’s not really my thing. But someone has to do it.” He says, and you squint a little at his response. With his hands hidden in his pockets, it clicks in your mind, and you bite back a smug smile. Aizawa had a similar tell to you- his hands start motioning to crack his knuckles, even if no pop comes of it.

You let a calmer grin settle on your face, staring up at him.

“Totally. Either way, I think it’s pretty cool of you.” You compliment, and his mouth twitches faintly in response.

“Why are you here?” He asks suddenly, and for a moment, you can see in his face that he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

You huff a sigh, “Same reason as everyone else. The war effort needed help, so the commission sent me home.” You explain. Aizawa nodded absently, reaching up to rub at his neck as he thought.

“You’re here to help Recovery Girl, then?” He says, face serious. You shake your hand in a so-so motion.

“Yes and no. I’ll help RG here for now, but I’ve been told they’ll send me with patrol groups and into war zones when needed. I can heal en mass in a way she can’t.” You shrug. Aizawa frowned, and you could tell he wasn’t happy with how the hero commission seemed comfortable throwing you wherever. Still, they’ve been this blasé with your life since you agreed to the program years ago, so it wasn’t something you concerned yourself with anymore.

“That doesn’t seem sustainable at all,” Aizawa says, critical as always. You give him an unimpressed look.

“War generally isn’t, no. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you say, waving your hand casually. “Anyway. I meant to ask, what’s up with…this.” You say, gesturing toward the eye patch. He pursed his lips briefly.

“War causality. Still getting used to it.” He rumbled, and you smiled gently at him.

“If anyone can kick ass with one eye, it’s you, Aizawa.” You hit his shoulder playfully, almost in slow motion as a joke. The movement is familiar, and for just a second, you remember how this same punch made him hiss like a disgruntled cat and glare at you, teetering away from the force.

Now, the stare he levels you with is unimpressed; mouth curled upward. He hadn’t budged. Your stomach flutters for a moment. “You’re ridiculous.” He mutters. That is familiar. The warm tone in his voice makes you painfully nostalgic, and through the ache in your chest, you laugh at his response.

“One of us has to be,” You tease, backing up and crossing your arms. Aizawa shoots you a look and rolls his eye. Without another word, he turns back down the hall he came from, and it only takes you a beat to realize you were supposed to follow.

“C’mon, Mic would wanna see you.” He calls, waving a lazy hand to gesture you over. You follow eagerly, almost tripping over yourself.

“Oh my GOD, Mic’s here too?!”

#gn!y/n #mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #my hero academia x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #boku no hero academia x reader #eraserhead x reader #mha x gn!reader #aizawa x gn!reader #neev.doc

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talesofesther · 9 months

Text

half a heart

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: You're tired of watching Sebastian get hurt because of you. So you decide to let him go.

A/N: A very random drabble that probably lacks context. Still, a good read I'd say. Hope you like it. <3

Masterlist

There wasn't a time when you cursed the amount of stairs Hogwarts has more than you did now. Your knees were burning with just how fast you skipped over to one of the highest floors, your destination being the hospital wing.

You suppose that Professor Weasley's scolding had been with reason, given the fact that you'd burst through the main doors holding a half-conscious Sebastian in your arms. Though she could've let you go with him before giving you a piece of her mind.

In any way, it was safe to say you were banished from leaving Hogwarts' grounds in the near future.

You steadied your frantic steps when you reached the familiar room, taking a deep breath and holding it for a second or two in your lungs as you watched Nurse Bailey speak with someone you could only assume was Sebastian.

One would think that with the number of times you've found yourself in this situation, you'd get used to it. But if anything, the feeling got worse. You found yourself only loving him more, your heart all the more entangled with his. And it was almost as if you could feel it stop beating when that spell—the one that was meant for you—hit Sebastian with full force.

The Ashwinder had no time to even think of a defense before the killing curse left the tip of your wand. But the damage had already been done, hadn't it?

It hurt you. The nurse nodded and walked away from Sebastian, and the boy lit up immediately as he saw you; his smile worsening the cut on his lip and making it bleed as he took half a step toward you before having to stop himself with a grimace of pain. It hurt you beyond belief, to see him in this state because of you.

You walked up to him in quick strides and said nothing as you encircled both arms around his shoulders, carefully, pulling him into a relieved embrace.

Sebastian buried his head in your shoulder, his first words to you were; "are you okay?"

And you knew then, that you'd made up your mind.

—

You were told that Sebastian would benefit from a night in the hospital wing, something about sudden bursts of pain and having someone nearby to take care of it.

Night came fast, the moon hazy in the sky as rain clouds gathered together; and with it, you hurt him just a little more, hopefully for the last time.

You sat with him in the hospital bed, lacking the courage to look him in the eyes.

"Sebastian, you know it as well as I do, we are not good for each other." You felt as if you'd said these same words in a hundred different ways already, breaking your heart as well as his own with them, but he refused to accept them.

Sebastian took your hand, his fingers trembling in their hold. He placed your palm against his chest and held it there, right on top of his beating heart. And it thundered, each beat growing more frantic than the last and you could feel them echoing through your whole body, raising goosebumps on your skin.

His hold tightened on your hand, as if you'd leave at any moment. It made your eyes finally meet his, and you saw a pool of tears collecting on the bottom lid of his dark eyes, only a blink away from spilling.

"You feel?" Sebastian's bottom lip trembled with each syllable, "you feel what you do to me?" One tear slid down his freckled cheek.

You choked on your own breath, unable to pry yourself away from the hold he had on your soul. Your fingers bunched up the fabric of his shirt, as if trying to physically hold his bruised heart.

"It beats for you," he whispered, words broken and desperate as his tears trickled down his chin, "do you have any idea of what would happen if you ever left?"

Oh.

Your own eyes were stinging and yet a soft, bittersweet smile came to your lips. This was such a Sebastian thing for him to do. Making you question each one of your decisions.

You raised your free hand to his face, your thumb brushing over the apple of his cheek and collecting the tears there before you ran your fingers through his hair. You could still see the bruise on his temple when his auburn hair was out of the way—shades of purple and dark red staining his skin. And you knew there were others, much worse scattered through the rest of his body. Sebastian never was one for thinking before he acted.

His eyes closed at your touch, he leaned against it. His lips touched your palm in a pleading kiss.

"I can't keep watching you do this to yourself," you confessed, quietly because you knew that if you spoke any louder you'd break too.

Sebastian shook his head, moving closer to you on the bed. "Please," he choked on a sob, with tears clinging to his eyelashes. "You're all I have."

You felt the words in your heart, drawing blood. More than anything, you wished you could run away and take him with you, lay a kiss on top of each scar on his skin and heart. Maybe you would. Maybe one day you would.

"You're all I have too," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his. You closed your eyes when you felt the unbearable weight of your next words already settling in your chest before you'd even said them; "and that's why we shouldn't see each other anymore."

The love you hold for each other could destroy you if you let it. What a sweet demise it would be.

Sebastian refused to let go of your hand, you doubted he would anytime soon. It was okay, you'd slip away when the candles of the hospital wing burned the faintest; when his breathing was even as he lay against your chest, and his grip loosened ever so slightly.

In the dead of night, you placed a lingering kiss on his forehead before you left. It didn't feel like a goodbye, not entirely.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @auxiliare @arawai @snickette

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x f!reader #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #sebastian sallow fanfiction #my story

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waklman · 1 year

Text

Birthday Wish

summary: bradley realizes you’re his source of comfort or bradley celebrates his first birthday with you.

warnings: angst, mentions of death/trauma from childhood. 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: wrote this in the spur of the moment because of this song. raahhh

something ‘bout you masterlist.

When Bradley was a little boy, he didn’t have a special blanky to hang onto, not like the other kids in his daycare did.

All he had was a miniature toy plane. It was flimsy–something that would probably snap right in half, if he squeezed his tiny hand around it too hard.

But, that cheap piece of plastic offered little Bradley everything he needed—everything a blanket couldn’t ever give him.

So four year old Bradley loved it with all his heart—well, he loved it with his limited knowledge of the concept. There wasn’t a moment where he didn’t cling onto it, bringing it everywhere his growing feet took him. He even slept with it, ignoring the dulling pain caused by it’s blunt edges—stabbing right into his ribs as he hugged it for solace.

Anyone could imagine the heartbreak he felt the day it broke.

Bradley threw a fit that very day, not wanting to blow out his birthday candles—not wanting to celebrate his birthday without his Goosey. Bradley wasn’t sure himself, why it made him so angry–why he felt so wrong in his own skin when the homemade cake was placed in front of him, with a celebratory song accompanying it.

All little Bradley knew in that confusing stir of emotions—was that he wanted to toss that cheaply made toy in his hands. So he did—he slammed it to the ground with all his strength–all the strength he’s accumulated in five years of life went into tossing the thing.

And it completely came undone onto the kitchen tile in front of him, sending shockwaves of guilt into the air.

Finally registering what came of his outburst—Bradley cried harder in discernment—his screams came out with great force, as his mother scrambled for the toy with shaky hands.

All Bradley knew at that moment was that he just wanted his toy plane back.

Though he couldn’t clearly recall the day of his father’s funeral, Bradley remembered his mother’s quite well.

He sat at the grave for hours—letting the rain wash over him, letting it soak through his rented suit.

After the sun had finally set into the horizon, the soggy fabric clung onto Bradley’s skin coldly—almost as a punishment. There was no longer any sunshine to soothe the goosebumps scattered down his arms.

It didn’t bother him at the time, the way his button up uncomfortably glued itself to his back, the way his shoulder pads sat thickly on his shoulders, gaining weight from the water it absorbed—because Bradley had already decided that nothing could possibly outweigh the numbing pain in his chest.

Where was that toy plane when he needed it? Bradley laughed bitterly to himself at the question.

Whoosh.

The familiar sound of an aircraft could be heard above the graveyard, pulling Bradley’s tired eyes away from the weather-beaten headstone.

His lids stretched at the sight, burning the surface of his eyeballs—now exposed to the saltiness of the air around him.

Bradley couldn’t believe his eyes, because there was his plane.

It was white with a streak of cobalt blue stretched over its wing, just how he remembered it.

But as quickly as Bradley caught sight of it, it was gone again—sweeping through the sky with a new destination in mind.

It was like greeting a long lost friend. The exchange was bittersweet—because you both had the knowledge that you’ll part ways soon, after finally seeing eachother again.

Bradley spent the next few hours staring at the vast amount of stars in the sky, watching them twinkle amongst each other.

But there was one specific star that caught his attention that night. It was the biggest mass there, and the brightest one too—completely contrasting against the black veil of darkness behind it.

Falling into a deep trance, Bradley eventually decided that the star reminded him of Carole Bradshaw. Maybe it was the grief speaking or maybe it was truly her. Its luminosity almost perfectly resembled the ring of bright highlights crowning her head—there was no mistake in that likeness—Bradley knew that for sure.

And for as long as he could, Bradley didn’t tear his eyes off that glow in the sky, not wanting to lose it amongst the other shimmers of light surrounding it, trying to weakly outshine it. He didn’t even blink, worried it would disappear if he did.

He knew he would eventually lose it, he couldn’t stay at his mother’s grave forever, the night security guard would find him and ask him to leave soon enough. But for now, Bradley sat motionless, staring up at his mother who shined back down on him.

He wishes he could stay here with her forever.

Bradley found himself here many times before. Laying in the darkness, only to punishingly stare at the daunting clock hung above his bedroom door frame—reminding him how early he’s woken up again.

But this time, you’re here with him—sleeping over for the first time. Bradley turns his head, pooling his attention onto you. Your cheek is pressed against the mattress under you, exhausted from the long day spent with him, and your arm is thrown over his waist like a weighted pillow.

Gently, Bradley reaches out a hand over to your face, brushing back the hairs that block your passageway of air, moving the drool coated globs of hair that shields your parted lips. He smiles to himself, humming at the way you sweetly press your cheek against his palm, mistaking him for the mattress.

And though the room is pitch black, with the darkness completely wrapping itself around your figure—Bradley swears he sees you glow. It’s brief, it always is.

He catches small glimpses of it here and there—where your skin radiates against his.

It was there when he first spotted you in that parking lot, it was there when your shared pet goldfish died, and it was there when he anxiously couldn’t pick which birthday cake he wanted from the day before.

You glowed like a star, making everything surrounding you into the night sky. Bradley’s heart swells at the conclusion.

It’s only you two in the kitchen. You woke up around five am, two hours after Bradley had stirred awake—pressing his birthday boy kisses all over the expanse of his face as he shyly smiled under you, caught off guard by your burst of energy.

Too excited to go back to sleep, you pulled him out of bed with a grin, and a desire to eat chocolate cake.

Now, Bradley sits with a cake in front of him again, and you in his lap.

“..happy birthday to you!” You sing excitedly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, waiting for him to blow out the candle with an encouraging smile. “Whenever you’re ready, honey,” you whisper the assurance, resting your head onto his shoulder.

Bradley squeezes his arms tighter around your waist, and you glow again—he sees it from the corner of his eye. It’s all Bradley needs to blow out the already melting candles.

“What’d you wish for big guy?” You ask, pulling him into a bruising hug.

Bradley softly smiles. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you, babybear or else it won’t come true,” he mumbles against your neck.

You laugh, shaking him back in fourth in the hug, almost knocking you both out of the chair. “Nooo! You’re right birthday boy—aren’t I silly?”

“Just a little,” he answers, lightly laughing at you.

Bradley couldn’t tell you what he wished for. Not because he was afraid it wouldn’t come true—he didn’t believe in that crap.

It was because he didn’t wish for anything at all. Right as his eyes shut to blow out the wax symbolizing his growth, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted.

Because truly—there was nothing to wish for, not this birthday.

Bradley doesn’t need that toy plane nor did he need to see that resilient star that glowed against his skin that one night, not when he has them both here in his arms.

They’ve just took a new shape.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

join taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @wkndwlff @sammyrenae68 @f1-and-shiz @stark3ys @roosterbruiser

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley rooster x reader #tgm fic #tgm imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster angst #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #sbu

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faelapis · 8 months

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pmmm rebellion: the flower scene

*inhales*

i like pmmm rebellion. a lot. i'd go so far as to say it’s one of my favorite movies. but i've never liked the interpretation from some, of this scene. the flower scene. essentially, the idea is that homura was right in how madoka was "miserable" as a god. because madoka "agreed with her" in the flower scene.

as a baseline, i will say right off the bat that i think pmmm is a franchise where you can never fully escape tragedy. i think any ending to this story will be bittersweet, and there is a certain amount of sacrifice and misery inherent in its very concept.

that being said. i don't think madoka becoming a god was as tragic as homura makes it out to be. i don't think its just a hero sacrificing herself for the greater good. i think it's more. and i think this scene, as much as it is a conversation, is also an act of self-delusion.

this one-note interpretation of madoka as a tragic sacrifice (in how she herself feels) is ignoring... well. the context of the whole series. which homura herself is also ignoring. by which i mean, she was a quite the unreliable narrator in how she described the sacrifice / miracle madoka would go on to perform.

for the record, i think there is something both selfish and selfless to homura. i think she genuinely believes she is helping madoka. and i think homura thinks that's all she wants. this is not an attempt to slander her - but more about how i think she has an incomplete understanding of madoka, and what madoka wants in life.

basically, i'm not trying to argue here that madoka's sacrifice is just good "for the world." obviously, it is. we already know that. what i'm trying to argue is that i think it - in some ways - is also good for madoka herself. not in an uncomplicated way, but that its not all bad. that she gets something out of being this godlike being. at the very least, i think it is better for madoka than the world homura creates.

okay. so. flower scene. homura pretty vaguely just says “you’re going to be separated from everyone you love." which, on its own, is pretty sad. she mentions that there's something "only (madoka) can do". and that madoka, being selfless, would do this because she feels she has to. that it is a tragedy.

what homura doesn't mention is madoka becoming this godlike, conceptual being who is everywhere at all times. which is a pretty big fucking thing to leave out. homura might as well have said “you’re going to be separate from ME, and that’s going to make ME sad” for how honest she was about the context of the situation.

in short, homura is framing the situation as tragically as possible because she wants madoka to say what she wants to hear. she wants to be told that it was miserable. because homura was miserable.

essentially, what homura says will happen: you'll be away from everyone forever. it will accomplish ~something~, but i will not tell you what. it will make me very sad. please comfort me. (which madoka does, because of course. lest we forget part of what she says is she would never want to make someone as strong as homura sad.)

what actually happens: you will have the power to save every magical girl from suffering. you will become a conceptual god, which will remove you from your human life. but you will also be with every magical girl, always, and give them comfort. you will not only have your own agency, but make sure that the wishes of magical girls everywhere MATTER and don't end in despair. including your own. even when you would become a witch and despair, you will save yourself. and when i die, i will be with you as well.

i think by framing it this way, homura IS being honest about how it "felt" to her. but homura also misunderstands what madoka wants.

first of all, madoka's life as a regular human... well, i'm not going to say it was unhappy. but i think it was unfulfilled. i think madoka was an insecure girl without much sense of what she wanted in life. and it was also ignorant. ignorant of the pain of the world, of the suffering that other magical girls had gone through. it was privileged, but it was also, in this way, empty.

madoka’s self-actualization (in the series) has a lot to do with helplessness vs being able to make a difference. in short, she wants agency. what her wish does is give her that agency, which she trades for her life as a normal human.

what homura’s wish does is the reverse. it’s giving madoka her humanity back, but in return, she no longer has agency. she doesn’t get to do the self-actualization of becoming someone with the power to help others. she is, in that sense, suppressed.

so. like. yes, THAT “regular magical girl who knows zero context of her own character arc” version of madoka? of COURSE she doesn’t want to leave everyone behind. big duh. she isn’t told what it would accomplish (in any specific terms), she isnt aware of how it would create a version of herself with the power to change the world. nor is she acquainted with the non-magical girl version of her in the pmmm series, who had no agency at all until she chose to become a god.

in the series, that is not a moment of despair for madoka. that is when she finds hope. that is when she attains a world where she can give rest to all magical girls. and give herself a reason to fight. that hope and determination carries her, and she is with it forever.

it’s also worth noting, rebellion!madoka's not just saying it would make her sad. she is also doubting herself. she's saying she is far “too spineless” to do it. how she's this weak, helpless person who would never be able to leave people for a greater calling.

putting aside how she’s not really gone / at least exists in this abstract way - she is also demonstrating how she doesn't believe in herself. so even this "happy" magical girl version of madoka still has some of the helpless insecurity of her series counterpart. she may live a relatively peaceful life, but she is not fulfilled. she lacks the purpose, determination and hope of her series counterpart.

in other words, even this version of madoka needs to self-actualize. and part of her knows that. in homura's "happy" new realm, madoka "feels wrong." she seems shy and insecure. ill at ease. uncomfortable. like she's at the start of her arc, not the end. yet the godlike power within her refuses to be erased. it can only be held back. for now.

in a way, i see homura trapping madoka a bit like the symbolism of not letting someone grow up. sure, adulthood might not be as "simple and happy" as childhood, but it also gives you knowledge and agency in life. it allows you to learn & grow, understand the world as it is, make educated choices in who you want to be, and become that best version of yourself. THAT is what madoka is denied. that is how she feels wrong in this “happy” illusion realm that homura creates.

also. god madoka would definitely be a lot happier if she could be with homura in heaven and have the ability to save her lol.

but there's a problem with that, for homura. and that problem is, that would give madoka the agency in the situation, and leave homura the passive receiver of blessings. which is at odds with homura’s own desire for control. like madoka, she wants to not be helpless and have the ability to affect the story. after all, she did fail to stop madoka in the series. i think homura wants some of that agency, too. hence the imagery of her soul gem going from a pawn to a queen.

essentially, i see this as a conflict between two sides who want to be in charge of their own destinies. they've been stripped of their agency by the world, and they want to have it back - no matter what it would cost. this is what they have in common.

when homura refused to join madoka in "magical girl heaven", she was ultimately refusing happiness for the sake of agency. for the sake of being able to be "madoka's hero." that's what she always wanted to be, and failed to be in the original series.

tl;dr: there is something tragic in madoka's wish. for sure. but i think it gives madoka agency in the world, which she always wanted. i think being able to help others can be genuinely fulfilling for the individual, rather than just a sacrifice. it’s empowering, as much as it is the loss of old self. and i think homura wants to feel like that kind of hero, too - no matter what. they both do.

*exhales*

#pmmm #madoka kaname #homura akemi #madoka #puella magi madoka magica #not su /#long post /#for the record we all agree that in an ideal world none of this would fall on the shoulders of middle schoolers #but that’s not why these stories are written #in madoka as with any young anime protagonist it has as much to do with the world of being the burdened protagonist 14 yr olds want to see #and to the symbolic fears dangers and perils that come with being 14. learning about the world and shedding childhoods naïveté etc

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graymanshoots · 6 months

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Simon “Ghost“ Riley SFW+NSFW Headcanons…

…and quotes I found that I believe fit him. With a lil chunk of comforting fluff at the end cause the quotes are sad.

(Just a reminder that these are my personal headcanons for him. Be respectful please.)

Quotes:

SFW

- I don’t think Simon as a person is as ruthless and cold as people make him out to be. He cares a lot about the people around him and locks in when necessary. He may be wary of people when he first meets them, but with the right amount of time and good conversation, he’d definitely be a good companion.

- He keeps work separate from his personal life. The way I see it, him wearing a mask on the field is to preserve his identity and to strike fear into enemies with the skull, like it had been done for him. He doesn’t wear a mask when he’s on leave because he’s Simon then, and people are gonna see him as some random big burly dude, not a soldier when he’s just walking the street.

- I’d say he would like some semblance of a normal life outside of work. By normal, I mean being able to have relationships, maybe get married, and after a lot of convincing, maybe have a kid. If he truly was going to stay alone for the rest of his life, there wouldn’t be as much of a need for him to be so secretive about his face (especially with his background). He has nothing to lose outside of the military. Sad to say, but his entire family is dead, and as far as we know lore-wise, all of his friends are dead except for 141.

- He’s confident and cocky. He’s not shy about his looks. He knows he has attractive features, and he definitely knows his capabilities. Simon is also bigger than most men and has a body sculpted by years of military training. He’s not shy about it. I can see him getting touchy about some of his scars just because they remind him of a dark point in his life, but he also reminds himself that he’s survived through them and takes them with a bittersweet feeling.

- Simon has a lot of mental issues and seems like the type of person to want to deal with them alone. If you were his significant other (you’d obviously have to be extremely close with him to get to that point), he’d tell you about his childhood. He talks about his trauma very casually like it never really affected him, but it subconsciously still hurts to think and talk about. He’ll trauma dump to a close friend/significant other and then think, “My life is kinda messed up.” Later on.

- If he suffers from night terrors or any type of sleeping ailments, I don’t believe he’d push his significant other away. He’d probably need a moment to collect himself because he’d be pretty dangerous in situations where he’s in a panic and isn’t thinking straight, but he’d definitely want to either stay close to you or hold you once he’s somewhat calmed down. He doesn’t mind being comforted; it’s just very foreign to him because he didn’t get much of it throughout his life. When he holds you, he likes to remind himself that he does have a piece of his mother in him and he isn’t 100% a monster. The softness he holds in the deepest parts of himself, he automatically associates them as traits passed from his mom.

- Simon is a soft man. He’d be very gentle as a significant other and as a father. He doesn’t yell or ever really raise his voice unless he’s pushed to a point. But he’d never want to be seen as anything similar to his dad.

- Now he may be soft most of the time, but if someone really pushes him, he can be petty and mean. When he gets angry, he doesn’t think and says things he doesn’t mean just to hurt the other person. He wouldn’t be like this towards his children if he had any, but there are definitely times where he’s argued with his significant other and thrown out a low blow. He’s someone that needs a lot of patience.

- A bit contradictory, but he has anger issues and that’s just that. Of course, he’ll keep level as much as possible, and he doesn’t yell often, but he definitely gets upset at a lot of little things. The someone spills a drink on him on accident, he has to take a moment to calm himself. His coat catches on the doorknob, and he’s gripping the wood tightly, just standing there fuming in silence.

- Carries candy in at least one of his pockets. Seems like the type to have a sweet tooth, and he especially falls into it after getting into a relationship or having a family. He used to just eat candies whenever he had a craving for them, but with an s/o or a family, he eats them whenever he feels he needs a cig or a drink. While sugar isn’t that good for you, he’d much prefer having that than dying of lung cancer or falling into addiction like his brother. He also likes baked goods purely for the fact that they have such a potent smell and can give his dreary apartment a comforting feel when he’s alone.

NSFW (you can scroll past this if you don’t want to see these the mini fluff piece is below this I’ll have it titled bold)

-He’s a gentle lover, doesn’t usually go rough unless asked or he’s upset. He likes to take his time when having sex since his work life is very fast-paced and high-stress. After a mission, he’ll want to make love to his s/o, being soft and gentle with his thrusts, enjoying the grip of you around his cock. After the initial soft round, if you're up for another, he’s not against going rougher.

-He doesn't do casual hook-ups often because they usually require him letting someone into his space or him going into an unfamiliar place. He’d do them in his car, bathroom, or generally anywhere that could give him semi-privacy with the person.

-That being said, Simon is not against semi-public sex. He’s not super kinky but is willing to try anything once. He would never do anything that had to do with blood, bodily harm with a weapon of any kind, and scat/piss. Those are super hard no’s for him. The farthest he’d go with ‘bodily harm’ is spanking, but I don’t see him using a belt at all. Besides, his palm is good enough to get the desired effects.

-Simon loves to cum inside. Not because he has a breeding kink, but because he loves watching his cum leak out of your well-used hole. He enjoys seeing your blissed-out face, knowing he’s to blame for your condition.

-He’s a giver more than a receiver. He loves giving you pleasure and often forgets about himself because he just adores your reaction to everything he’s dishing out for you. He doesn’t mind getting sucked off but would much rather eat you out or fuck you than that. He’s not a very selfish lover no matter his mood. It’s always 90% of his attention on you and the rest on himself. Even if you guys are hate-fucking or he’s in a bad mood, he’ll either edge you into oblivion or overstimulate you until you're crying.

-Simon Riley has a big dick; that’s just a fact. He is thick and he’s got good length. I’d say he’s a bit more girth than most men rather than long. He’s a grower and a bit of a shower. When he’s soft, you're gonna assume he’s like around 5.5 inches, but when you get him all riled up, he’ll get to around 6.7 inches.

-With him having been blessed in his nether regions, he does a lot of foreplay. And I mean a lot. He won’t fuck you until you’ve cum at least once and prepped and ready for him to ruin you. He will start with light teasing once he feels he's in the mood. Gets touchier than usual and will start with innocent little touches and kisses before pulling you into his lap.

-He loves doing and getting aftercare. He’ll lay down and settle for a bit after a good romp, but he’ll eventually either get up or let you get up to do some well-deserved sweet and domestic aftercare.

Mini fluff fic:

You shuffled through the kitchen, humming softly to the song playing through your speaker. The sweet aroma of vanilla and cinnamon filled the room, wrapping its scent around everything. Simon was supposed to be back from deployment today, so you wanted to make his favorite dessert as a welcome home gift.

You were so wrapped up in making sure everything was perfect you hadn’t heard keys jingling or the door open. With thoughts consumed, a yelp doesn’t fail to leave your lips when you turn around, bumping right into your husband's chest.

“Do I need to buy you a hearing aid, love?” Simon questioned, his unmasked face showing his amused expression.

“You are like a mouse when you walk!” You argued, lightly slapping him on the chest before turning back to the oven.

Simon let out a low chuckle and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his chest before resting his chin on your head.

You relaxed into him, leaning your head to the side, inhaling his cologne. Simon leaned down, pressing his scarred lips to your neck, mumbling something incoherent into your skin.

You squirmed in his hold, feeling ticklish as a small smile appeared on his face. “Simon, the cinnamon rolls are gonna burn.” Your words fell on deaf ears as Simon swayed you along to the music, saying nothing and just feeling you.

His fingers teased under your shirt and lightly gripped onto the skin of your hips, a soft sigh sliding from his lips as he relaxed.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, just swaying softly, enjoying each other's presence before he reluctantly pulled away, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“You need any help with the rolls, hun?” He asked, looking at the golden brown cinnamon rolls in the oven. “When I take them out, you can help me with the icing,” you said, grabbing the bowl with the unfinished icing in it. Simon smiled and took the bowl from you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before going over to the mixer…

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staarri · 29 days

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HIIII, how are you? I hope everything goes well <33 I would like to order gaming x reader, maybe as an accidental kissing session? If it's not too much trouble, thank you very much for reading <33

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬

— characters : ga ming

— character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, not really an accidental kiss… it had a purpose, mutual pining, this is a work of fiction

fluff , accidental kiss , modern!au . word count : 1.1k

hi there lovely! i changed this up a bit since i couldnt figure out what to write. i hope you dont mind! very extra special tag for @aventurne !!

The movie ends in such a bittersweet way. The protagonist lives her life as a teacher and her sister marries the boy she once loved the most. She looked back at her life in such a happy way now that she also had someone for her. You sniffle, bringing a tissue to your eyes. Your friend looks at you, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you okay?” He asks, hesitantly bringing his hand to your cheek and wiping away any kind of remaining trail the tear left. You two had planned a little movie date. If you could even call it that–You did it as friends anyway. Yet you never expected the movie you chose to be this… This devastating.

“Mhm–” You sniffle again, cheeks puffing up. You start fanning your face to try and stop crying, but the more you think about it the sadder you get. “That was just. Wow, like I didn’t expect it at all.”

He giggles, laying back comfortably on his seat. He nods, yeah.

“Think that’ll happen to me too?” You’ve always believed love would never work out the way you wanted it to. For you, of course. I mean, your friends are all in happy relationships–marriages for some and you’re stuck at this golden age, single.

“With the amount of unrequited love stories you’ve watched? At this point, I’m starting to believe it will.” Ga ming teases you.

“That hurt a little, `ming.” Crossing your arms pretending to be upset.

“Oh–Oh I'm sorry,” He says sarcastically, laughing. “Let’s not forget what happened with La La Land.”

“Whatever! I doubt you’ll be getting a partner in the near future anyway; So we're in the same boat.”

He grins, “Really now?”

You nod frantically. Going on a short rant about how his personality is so explosive it causes the other people’s social battery to die out immediately, or how he’s so active all the time you never get a break from all the activities you guys do. Or how his smile is so captivating, maybe how his face is so bewitching.

“Don’t know. All I'm hearing is you like me so much it's killing you.”

“I do not!”

“Sure.”

Yeah. Maybe you do like him. A lot, maybe a bit more. He’s cast a spell on your heart and you can’t undo it–It’s a curse and a blessing all at the same time. What if you like your best friend? It’s not like he felt the same way anyway. Well he might, with the mixed signals he’s been giving you. But he’s nice to everyone–He’s like that to everyone. And it has always been like that from the very start.

He looks at you in a way that squeezes and twists at your chest; He smiles at you in a way that causes all the butterflies to fly from its cage in your stomach and you feel so lightheaded when you two laugh together. You’re lost in the way he’s so caring, and it makes you feel sick and selfish wanting him for all yourself.

But that's just how you feel. For all you know–He might just be leading you on, and you’ll find out once you admit your feelings to him right now at this moment.

It's so difficult not to blurt it out. The love from your heart is escaping and taking this tension between you as its new home. You just look at him as he takes in the surroundings of your venue, with the warm fairy lights emitting a glow that makes him look more ethereal by the moment, and with the couch that has his hair all fluffed up. But it’s just now that you notice how bright his eyes look, how the shine compliments the red hues so perfectly. Just now that you see the little fangs on his teeth and how his face scrunches up so right whenever he smiles widely. You wonder how he’ll look when you two grow old, how much will change within those years.

You can’t be his, it’ll ruin you in more ways than one.

“You’re awfully quiet, was the movie that bad?” His concern is enough to melt the walls you’ve worked too hard to build around your heart. He will ruin your inner peace, is it weird that you would let him?

You don’t dare answer.

“Hey, look at me.”

He brings his hands to your cheeks, making you face him. You feel stupid in love, it's like you just can’t get enough air to your lungs because even that is filled with the scent of him.

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

His eyes wander from your lips to your own eyes, looking for any kind of sign that you don't feel good. You place your hand on top of his and gently press your cheek against him more. You warned yourself, this is a bad idea. But you never listen, not once.

Now he’s kissing you in a way that’s going to screw you up forever.

It’s soft, the way he handles you so gently. As if you’re some kind of porcelain that’s a little too fragile. You’re regretting everything that brought you to this moment but you’re not complaining one bit.

And it was short-lived. It wasn’t even a kiss, it was a peck on the lips. He was scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way, because somehow maybe you didn’t fall in love with your best friend who you’ve had multiple dimsums with. The friend that held you in your darkest moments and the friend who wished for all your partners to somehow quit playing with your feelings so he could be the one to be there for you instead.

Oh god, you were inlove. And so was he–and maybe even more than you.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He stammered. Cheeks red and yours the same. You two were affected under the same spell you put on each other. “I swear–You just looked too pretty. I couldn't help it.”

It feels like you’ve just discovered love. Like you were the only one to know how it feels to be in love with someone. The tension is gone and all you’re feeling is pure adoration from him, from the way he stares at you with an expression you’ve never seen before.

Someday, this will end. But for now? You’ll be treasuring the moment in a way you’re sure no one else has.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

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34saveme34 · 2 months

Text

Sever the Ties - another smg34 fic by yours truly

[Very excited to post this !!

CW: obviously angst, self harm (mainly once), in general a lot of death mentions, no actual deaths though

word count: 11243

Although SMG3 didn't like it when 4 helped him, he convinced him through endless whining to help clean the cafe after the chaos his USB caused (Why does that sound familiar?).

It took the whole day, both were way too exhausted. 3 sat down on one of the chairs guests would usually sit on. A lot of emotions were boiling in him.

“Whew, we’re done, finally!” 4 exclaimed, stretching his arms after completing such a grueling task.

“You didn't need to help” 3 said, contempt dripping off his words. But he was still holding back.

“It's my fault so I kind of did”

3 just sighed and got up, not wanting to further engage in conversation.

4 looked confused, but also upset.

“Dude! Not even a thanks?” he pouted

3 looked back at him, a sort of coldness in his eyes 4 didn't like to be subjected to.

“Thanks for fixing your own mistake. Now scram” he didn't yell, but he wasn't exactly calm either.

“I’m sorry… it wasn't on purpose I promise I… I hope you can forgive me, 3” 4 pleaded, looking 3’s way, his big eyes reflecting off all the sorrow he was feeling about the situation. 3 looked away but that face already made an impression on his mind. It was hard to stay mad at him.

“I know…” his voice was so gentle “This is just how it is with you sometimes, isn't it?” 3 joked, looking back at 4. 4 frowned.

“But! It shouldn't be… I’ve gotta make it up for you somehow…”

“Please don't…” 3 whined.

“I promise it's gonna be good!” 4 gave him a double thumbs up, as he left with an excited grin. 3 could feel a plan cooking up in 4’s brain, there was no way to stop him.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself.

“What did I do to deserve this?” he spoke to himself, with a stupid grin he couldn't wipe off. As he was trying to cope with the idea that 4 could ruin him further, he felt his furry son greeting him by nuzzling his foot.

“Hey there, boy!” as if he was absolved of all worry, he lifted Eggdog in his arms, hugging him. He earned excited barks for it.

“At least I have you” he petted him then put him down. He still felt kind of bittersweet.

He left to his evil lair, and immediately hit the bed. He felt too emotionally unavailable for the shower right now. The bathroom in general. Walking by the mirror in there simply made him feel dread. He didn't think he could develop such a repulsion towards his own image. His whole living place kind of became hell for him for this reason.

He couldn't sleep, it just wasn't working. He got up. His clock read 2 AM. He sighed. Something was on his mind.

“I should get rid of them…” he stared at the statue of himself. Every second that passed as he stared at it, he felt he couldn't even get out of his own merch’s shadows. It all made him feel sick. He got up, and started throwing out everything that used his likeness. All the plushies, cardboard standees and other merch he still had on hand. Not the statue, not yet. He had something special for that.

He put all the merch in a pile and lit it all on fire. It was sad to see but he felt relieved in some way as well. They had been haunting him for weeks at that point. Although the amount of money he spent on these was kinda sad to see go. Just another financial mistake of his, these felt common for him at this point. And it started so well too, with how much he got his hopes up, he plummeted that hard. He barely even realised he started to cry. He wiped his eyes, trying to compose himself but he only started crying more, and not so softly anymore. His breathing wasn't calm either, his brain felt like melting. So much pain in him, trying to turn him into nothing. He looked up at the sky, wondering where he could have gone wrong.

It took him a bit to calm down. He was glad that everyone was probably asleep at this point. The sadness slowly turned into twisted anger. He got up, walking up and down beside his fucked up bonfire, trying to calm himself.

“What did I even do to deserve this? I’ve been trying so hard- I went through so much! I thought I worked enough on myself to have a good life now” he stared up at the sky, as if he expected the stars to have an answer. But they were deadly silent.

“GOD DAMN IT, GIVE ME A REASON” he screamed, still staring up, as if blaming some sort of god for the way he was now. He was once again crying. He harshly sat down. It hurt but at least he wasn't only feeling his emotions that way. The thought made him stop, as he slowly looked to the fire, perhaps bad things forming in his brain. The more he looked at it, the more the fire made an impression on his brain. The way it was so strong, going up but dissipating soon too. It kind of reminded him of himself. Would anyone miss him if he became one with the fire?... Or was he too much of a coward? He pulled off one of his gloves, his expression still wore sadness. He pulled his sleeve slightly up, not wanting it to catch fire. He reached in. It was kind of overwhelming. His mind felt empty from the pain. He pulled back suddenly as the pain really settled in him,even if it hadn’t been there for that long, crying out again. He couldn't believe it, he was crying again… Why was he such a failure?

“...3?” he heard a soft voice come from behind him, all too familiar. His heart sank. He couldn't look.

“...3! What… What's wrong?” the voice came closer, it seemed he was not getting off the hook with this one.

“Why are you here?” 3 spoke, his voice was strained from the crying.

“I couldn't sleep because of our link… I could feel something was wrong…” 4 kneeled down beside 3, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 3 wasn't sure how to feel. His hand was hurt. It hurt so fucking much. Why did he have to be so fucking stupid?

4 grabbed his burnt hand. But he didn't say a thing. He was gentle too, he could see how much it hurt. 4 sighed softly and pulled 3 up.

“Wait, what the hell are you doing??” 3 tried to get away, pulling himself from 4’s grip.

“I want to help. This can't continue”

3 stared at him, so many thoughts attacking him. He felt awful.

“Like you could do anything, dipshit!”

4 was about to look offended but visibly held back.

“If you let me, I can. Please, 3… You know I care about you, right? It's awful to see you like… like this” he grabbed 3’s shoulder firmly, once again beginning to pull him back.

3 sighed.

“You won't let me go, huh?”

“Never ever” 4 smiled at 3, trying to be hopeful. 3 cared too… He really did.

4 took him inside then searched around everywhere he could to find something to treat 3’s burns. As he looked around, that's when he realised all the merch was missing. Their absence made him feel kind of uneasy. He thought for a bit then called Meggy.

“It's 4 in the morning” she sounded upset.

4 went outside, leaving 3 alone inside the cafe. 3 looked his way, but he didn't feel like going after him.

He was on the phone for a bit, probably about a few minutes. 3 didn't go outside but still stared the entire time. 4 came back inside after putting his phone away.

“I called Meggy, she has stuff for your burns”

3 frowned.

“You didn't need to-”

“What were you doing anyways?”

3 looked down, not wanting to look at 4 as he said those next few words.

“Burning merch”

4 was shocked. That's when he put together that what he saw then was all the merch burning.

“What?... What for?” 4 sounded so sad. It killed 3. He wished he could smile at him again.

“No one wanted them anyways, and I hated staring at them only catch dust”

“Still… I… has it really been this bad?”

“I’m surprised you didn't notice…. Then again, you're not exactly best at catching on things”

“Hey I-...” 4 looked down “I guess you're right”

Neither looked at the other. The tension…

Meggy stepped inside the cafe, which got both out of their sudden silence.

“Hey, guys, I brought some burn ointments, I came as soon as I could!”

“Why do you have it anyways?” 3 asked.

“You never know when you might need it!... And my time in the kitchen often leaves me with burns-”

“Fair enough” 4 commented, nodding. It made sense, Meggy is a shitty ass cook.

4 and Meggy treated 3. 3 was kind of glad they stopped questioning why this even happened. He really really didn't want to talk about it.

“So” 4 started. Oh no.

“What?” 3 didn't dare look at either of them, playing with the bandage they put on his hand.

“What's wrong, SMG3?” Meggy folded her arms, looking concerned.

“He burnt his merch” 4 told Meggy since 3 was rather silent.

“What??” even she was shocked. 3 was starting to feel like an utter clown, this was torture.

“Yeah… and I feel like it's my fault…” 4’s voice was filled with sorrow. 3 perked up for that, staring at 4 with an expression that was hard to read. It slowly turned soft though.

“It's… not actually” 3 sighed. It was his own fault.

“I-... I think I still want to help… especially because I think I found something that could help your business out”

3 looked at him confused and scared. Whatever was in this man’s mind could only lead to bad things.

4 took his phone out and showed a picture of a billboard. It had the number on it to call if you wanted to rent it.

3 looked at the picture. Back at 4. Back at the picture, back at 4. He tilted his head. Meggy looked confused as well.

“You could advertise like this!”

“4… I hate to break it to you but I don’t have that kind of money right now”

4 shook his head.

“I’ll pay for it!” 4 pumped a fist into the air cheerfully. He was serious about this.

3 went so wide eyed, not even sure what he was supposed to say.

“THAT’S A LOT OF MONEY, YOU IDIOT???”

“3’s right, 4… that’s a rather big commitment”

“I don’t mind it!”

“The fuck you mean you don’t mind it??” 3 was rather flustered now. The grand gesture proposed to him made him feel all sorts of things.

“I wanna make it up to you, 3… for all the times I had mistreated you” 4 put a hand on 3’s shoulder. 3 was so flustered he didn’t even know what to say anymore. He wasn’t used to being treated so special.

“Damn, that’s so sweet of you 4, I wish you cared about me this much” Meggy teased 4, 4 didn’t seem to get what she was going for. She didn’t feel like elaborating.

“Are you sure?” 3 finally got some words out. Didn’t mean he looked any less flustered though.

“Yeah! You deserve it, man!” he patted 3 on his back then pulled him close by the shoulder. It seemed 4 was rather touchy today. And Meggy started to feel awkward about third wheeling.

“So, guys, I’m gonna go back to sleep now, you’re welcome for my help” she waved them goodbye quickly. It was so interesting to see the 2 get along in their own ways but she still felt like she was intruding on something she shouldn’t.

3 felt like he was left to succumb now that he was left alone with 4. He couldn’t believe that he wished for Meggy to stay longer.

It took everything in him but he just couldn’t… he couldn’t keep it in. He hugged 4. It took a bit but 4 hugged back. They were silent, the hug was long. He wasn’t exactly a fan of affection but 4 got the best of him. He couldn’t help it at this point.

“You sure are affectionate today” 4 teased 3 softly.

“Not my fault”

“Heh… is it mine?” 4 grinned.

“Yeah yeah” 3 pulled 4 away gently “And now it’s over”

“Thanks, your hugs are nice”

“You do realise how that sounds, right?”

“Well… Sometimes you’re a little gay with the homies, right?” 4 joked. 3 facepalmed.

“Whatever…”

They stood around for a bit before 4 spoke.

“Say… will you be able to sleep like this?”

3 didn’t even think of that. With the way he got, he almost thought today would be his last day.

“Uh… I don’t know, I probably just… won’t”

4 squinted at him, having none of his bad behaviour.

“No way”

The 2 stared at each other, 3 looking kind of angry, especially since 4 didn’t budge.

“What are you gonna do, beat me to sleep or some shit?”

“No… That’s mean”

“It’s not like you would cuddle me to sleep-” 3 said. He already said it and he couldn’t take it back. The words he didn’t mean to just put out there but now 4 knew. He knew that 3 considered cuddling him to sleep.

“Not a bad idea… then in the morning we can start on preparing for that billboard!”

3 grew so red.

“I DIDN’T SAY I WANT TO”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“And why are you so for it?”

4 blushed himself, now that he thought about it further… It was a pretty weird idea.

“This once?” 4 pleaded, with those loser puppy dog eyes. 3 sighed.

“Fine”

“Though… you should shower first”

“Being picky now, aren’t we?”

“I can help you with that too” 4 smiled, feeling kind of powerful that he could tease 3. He got slapped. He realised it was kind of deserved.

“Fine, I'll shower. Very VERY far from you”

“I was just joking! I swear!”

3 sighed and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he could be this close to this idiot.

3 showered and came back to 4 by his bed. It was kind of weird but he also sort of looked forward to it. In like a weird, twisted and awful way. He looked away from 4 to the statue he had of himself. It filled him with dread.

“Hey, 4, before we sleep… can you help me bring this out of here?” he pointed at the statue.

“Is it really necessary right now?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep with it around”

4 got up, guess there was no other way. They moved it out of the room together, although they had to take it apart a bit so they could fit it out of the door. For the night, they left it in the cafe lounge, he would worry about it later.

Now came the time to sleep. 3 got kind of flustered at 4 opening his arms for him to sleep there. He didn’t even let him go far away, keeping him close, as if he didn’t want to ever let him go… Only 4 knew that that thought was kind of accurate. It was so so uncomfortably comforting, 3 fell asleep pretty fast. If it wasn’t so weird, he’d ask to do this more.

Next day came by, 3 was slow to stir awake. He kind of didn’t feel like getting up. The warmth of 4 was a bit too nice… What the the fuck do you mean? Get yourself together! 3 wriggled himself out of 4’s hold and went to the bathroom to splash his face with water. He had to get himself together.

But man… He still missed it. How could he even cope with this?

He went back to his room and sat beside the still sleeping 4. He still couldn’t believe 4 just cuddled him last night. He thought he would never do something like that. It kind of intrigued him in a way. He wondered if he made this side of him trigger with what he did last night. He frowned, thinking of the possibility. He didn’t want to hurt 4. At least… he hoped he didn’t want to hurt 4. The idea made him kind of sick.

He only realised how intensely he was staring at 4 when he woke up, his eyes meeting his own. He suddenly turned away, as if he hadn’t been looking at 4 for who knew how long at that point. 4 smiled about that, he was glad to see that 3 cared. Although he didn’t speak up about it… It was still too early for him. He lightly tugged on 3’s arm.

“What?” 3 looked at him unamused.

“Coffee?” 4 requested with one simple word.

3 just stared at him. 4 frowned.

“Pretty please”

3 rolled his eyes, he got up and went outside to make one for 4. 4 took that time to still relax in 3’s bed. He didn’t think it would be so nice sleeping beside 3. Although the idea was spontaneous and if the circumstances were different, he wouldn’t have done it… But his need to see 3 okay won him over like this.

3 was brewing the coffee, while it was going, he phoned some dude up, apparently from the dark web. As soon as he put his phone down, a shady dude came out from the floor and took the disassembled statue, leaving a few coins behind for a fair trade. 3 picked them up. At least he could get a little money out of his sudden spring cleaning.

3 went back down to 4 with the coffee, made to 4’s liking, he knew his taste pretty well at this point. Even if he didn’t have a lot of customers anymore, 4 would still come every once in a while.

4 took the coffee, taking a sip, he hummed with delight.

“Great as always” 4 commented, drinking more of it. 3 was glad that even if his business was dying, he still managed to make banger coffee that 4 liked.

“Thanks”

“No no, thank YOU”

“Whatever, you’re welcome” 3 smiled, folding his arms.

“Hey… don’t you wanna come beside me” the warmth radiating off of 4 was quite beckoning.

“What would I for? Not like I have business with you”

4 deflated.

“You kinda do, considering what we talked about yesterday…” 4 pulled out his laptop “I guess you don’t want to save your business?”

3 went wide eyed. He accepted defeat and sat beside 4.

“So… we should probably put together your ad!” 4 exclaimed “Now I uh… I had this idea for a while… and I made some mock ups!” 4 said and opened up a folder that held a few images.

They weren’t exactly well drawn and 4 didn’t have the most legible writing. 3 often had to lean in close to see them. After looking at them all, he looked at 4 and chuckled.

“I see graphic design is your passion” he teased.

“I did this for you!”

“They look like shit”

“Nooo,,”

“What were you even trying to write here?” 3 opened one of the images back up.

“It’s-! I… I don’t remember? Ahaha” 4 laughed awkwardly. 3 rolled his eyes, somehow not believing this idiot could make himself look even less smart.

“Let’s start this again…” 3 got up and brought back a pen tablet.

“Didn’t know you had one of these”

“I got it not too long ago actually! It’s great to use” 3 took 4’s laptop in his own lap and plugged in his tablet.

“Uh-” 3 started “ do you mind if I download the software for it? It works better that way”

“Sure, go on… just don’t get me viruses!”

“I’m not as much of an idiot as you are!”

“You sure like grilling me today”

“It’s just what I do” 3 laughed.

After he downloaded the software and set it up, he started to mock something up in ms paint, aka man’s best friend. Nobody does it like you, my dear, Microsoft paint!

It actually looked better than what 4 did, although the tablet definitely played a part in making it better. 4 noticed it was an advertisement for a job.

“You want to hire?” 4 pointed it out.

“Yeah… I think it would be the solution”

“Huh… wait” 4 inspected it more “That’s… not a lot of money for this kind of job”

3 frowned.

“I… I know but I can’t currently offer more”

“Man.. are you really that broke? You can come stay with me if you wa-”

“No way. Never”

“Okay…”

“You’re really obsessed with me…”

“I… I’m just worried about you… yesterday made me realise how I could easily lose you if I didn’t well… yeah”

3 shut up for a bit.

“... I was afraid you’d say that”

The 2 stayed silent for a bit. Lots of feelings around the 2.

“I’m honest though, man, I care a lot”

“I know already ugh just… yeah… I’m sorry, I should be glad you’re helping me”

4 chuckled.

“I’ll still take constructive criticism, but ONLY if you’re not too mean”

“I can try” 3 laughed.

They continue to perfect the ad. It turned out pretty pathetic in the end but at least it got the message across.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a while since they put the ad out. The more time that passed, the more it felt futile. 3 felt worse than ever, not only did he have a dying business, he also had 4 spending so much money on him and for what? He felt like shit. It was hard to force himself to keep the cafe at least a little clean. And keeping up with daily routines had never been so hard either, as much as it was then. It was killing him from the inside. He wondered if it was even a good idea for him to move there and start this.

However each time he was slowly succumbing to the dark, 4 pulled him out and helped him. He sort of became an unofficial worker in a way. 3 hated that. Not only did he spend so much money on him, he also helped him around without asking for compensation. It made him feel weak, as even this much help didn’t pull him out of it.

It was especially an awful day. He didn’t even try to open the cafe, he just stayed in his room with the lights off. It had been weeks at this point and there still wasn’t anybody coming to help him out… He wished he could’ve done better. But maybe he was just destined to be a miserable shadow of someone better… 4, he was… great. 3 wished he had half the success. The jealousy in his brain had only been growing. He always tried to push it to the back of his mind for the sake of 4, he didn’t want to hurt him. 4 was too great for something like that. He didn’t want to further bury him in his own burden.

“3? Are you in here?” he heard 4 call out to him from the elevator. He just couldn’t stay away from 3, no matter how many times it seemed reaching out to him wouldn't work out further.

“I’m fine” 3’s voice was muffled by the fact that he was underneath the covers, his face smothered in his pillow.

4 frowned as he walked up to 3’s bed. He sat beside 3. He hesitated for a bit but leaned down to hug 3. 3 didn’t want this… He loved it.

“3, c’mon man I’m…. I’m sure someone will answer your ad soon enough! It’s too early to give up”

“4… listen” 3 sat up, pushing 4 off of himself “I’m… I’ve failed. I don’t get why… you just don’t give up on me at this point. What’s the point of helping me if it doesn’t lead anywhere?”

4 could only stare shocked, not wanting to admit that those words were just uttered to him.

“You can’t say that…”

“I’m right, 4… I think it’s too late for me… just… just let me rot here”

“But… I don’t want to”

“Leave”

“3…”

“Why don’t you get it? It’s futile. I’m not worth it, 4. There’s so many better things and people you can put all this energy into”

“You’re.. you’re…” 4 was lightly shaking, he was really upset by that “You’re more…” tears slipped and streamed down his face.

“Look at you… I’m the reason you’re like this” 3 admitted “It.. genuinely might be better for you”

“WHY do you WANT ME TO STAY AWAY SO BADLY???” 4 got up, upset, crying, accusing, tired. Exhausted.

“BECAUSE I DON’T DESERVE YOU AT ALL, YOU’RE STRUGGLING BECAUSE OF ME”

“I JUST WANT TO BE ABLE TO HELP FOR ONCE”

“IT WOULD HELP IF YOU LEFT ME ALONE”

“AND LET YOU ROT??” the tears wouldn’t stop coming, only becoming more intense.

“YES, IT’S WHAT I DESERVE”

“NO! NO! NO! NO IT’S NOT TRUE” he cried, not sure what to do or say anymore.

“Just… leave… it will be better for the both of us. Make your funny videos”

4 felt almost betrayed, it seemed no matter how hard he pressed, he couldn’t get through 3 anymore. He left, feeling undone in a sense. Yes, the situation had been draining him quite a bit but he did it for his friend, his friend who he really really cared about! A friend he would give the whole world for if he could. And yet, here he was, leaving because he kept failing 3. He felt like shit. Of course when he wanted to be there for 3 fully and help him achieve his dreams, that’s when things would turn this sour.

He might have gone back to his room now but the inspiration wouldn’t come. The thought that he failed 3 just occupied his mind too much. He knew how bad it was to miss uploads but he just… He couldn’t do this. He decided to release a community post, saying that there would be a bit of a hiatus until he was able to resolve something. He sighed, trying to look for a way to make things better. He wondered if he should really just stop. If 3 was right about the fact that he just needed to stop and leave 3. But the more he stayed away, the more it felt like the whole in his heart, the place 3 took for himself only got bigger. Like a fatal wound.

It had been days since he was told to leave 3 alone. He decided to check on him again, even if by force, he would make something happen. He entered 3’s lair, looking for him but finding nothing. His room looked as messy as ever, nothing was that out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that 3 wasn’t here. 4 started to grow more and more worried. 3 was gone. 3 WAS GONE. WHERE. IS. HE?

He alerted his friends, who also came to help, though not everyone. Just Meggy, Tari, Saiko, Mario, Luigi and Melony when she wasn’t sleeping. They searched and searched, especially 4, it was almost like he never stopped searching. Day and night he would go to the cafe and look around, often he didn’t even sleep in his room if he would sleep at all. It was the only thing he had of 3 in that way, although it wasn’t as comforting as he wished it to be. But it was more than nothing and he should be grateful. Although it was kind of silly, he looked through the burnt merch, and while he found nothing in tact, he found a plush that was still recognisable. Just seeing it made him cry. He kept it. It turned into a charm for him, not his good luck charm, rather his charm of hope. Hope for the idea that 3 is still out there and that he would be able to find him.

He was reaching the end of his ropes, but then he realised. He could reach out to 1 and 2 for help! Yes, that’s it… He called the 2, scared, they could tell based on his voice that things were NOT good.

“So… you don’t know where he went?” 1 questioned.

“I… yeah… but I… I can still feel that he’s still alive… I know it”

“Alright, we’re gonna teach you a bit of a complex move to help you track down SMG3. You… really need to concentrate. And calm down” 2 looked concerned.

“Yeah, you look super tense” 1 commented, also concerned.

“Sorry sorry… I just really care about him”

“Yeah… He is your partner after all” 2 pat him on the shoulder “it’s only natural”

“He’s also… my friend” 4 could cry all over again. He didn’t think that one day he would be here, feeling dysfunctional at the thought of SMG3 of all people leaving him behind. And yet…

The 2 both grabbed 4’s hand, trying to channel for him. 4 tried to take a deep breath to concentrate. This was for 3… He would do anything for 3. He couldn’t fail him again.

Suddenly, 4 felt sharp pain in his stomach, which made him fall to the ground.

“Are you okay??” 2 looked worried, 1 was too.

“I’ve never seen something like this happen…”

“Huh?” 4 looked up, shocked at the revelation.

“This shouldn’t be possible” 2 noted as well. This only made 4 more visibly worried.

“Not possible?”

“Look… I think we should try again” 1 sighed, he knew it had to be done “As much as I’d rather not, I want to try and see… if we can figure it out”

4 nodded, not really fighting it. If it meant they could find 3…

They once again all held hands, and it happened again.

“Hmmm… he only wants you” 1 noted.

“How do you know that?” 2 looked at him, also puzzled.

“I was paying attention to the force stopping us. It was clearly pulling 4 away from us, not the other way around. It only wants you”

“But I- How do I do it on my own?”

“We’ll help from- from here” 2 tried to reassure 4.

“We can’t lose hope yet” 1 also tried.

4 had a headache coming on at this point but he persisted. He wanted to see 3 again and make sure he wouldn’t come to harm’s way ever again.

“Okay… yeah, you’re both right” 4 tried to concentrate. Linking his own hands kind of helped, almost like making a loop link. He closed his eyes. It felt like he was transported in a different place.

He couldn’t see anything much, beside a shadow resembling 3. The shadow knew he was there and that he wanted answers. It didn’t speak directly, only whispers but seemingly not coming from the shadow entity directly. The whispers were incomprehensible yet somehow 4 was still given an image in his head, it burned into his mind. The scenery of a castle that felt impossible. It felt familiar to him in a way. It bared resemblance to Peach’s castle that once stood proud and tall but missing important things, looking like an abandoned version of it. With dark energy emanating from inside. But he could feel it… 3 was there. Waiting for him. He… He wanted him to come? But… Only him… nobody else… He would have to…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sat up, he didn’t realise it before but he was put in a bed.

“Hey, you’re finally awake!” 2 said coming beside him.

“What… what happened?”

“The move drained you and you passed out” 1 said, also noticing that 4 woke up “What did you see?”

“It was a castle but… he wants me to go alone”

“What, alone?”

“That’s just…”

“I have to” 4 stood up from bed “I think… I guess we have a score to settle”

“Are you sure about this?” 1 asked.

“I’m… I am, yeah. What’s the worst that could happen anyways?”

“A lot can happen”

“At least I’ll see him again” 4 got up and left the 2 SMGs without another word. Both concluded that 4 truly grew desperate.

4 left on his own, well… Not entirely. He had memes just in case something went wrong. Or if he had to escape a life or death situation. Anything felt possible at this point. He even started to make peace with the idea that he’d get badly hurt anyways. At least he’d be able to see 3 again… maybe with his last breath, he could hold him again… Although that might have sounded a bit too sad. His biggest wish was still to take 3 home and make everything work out again. Turn everything back to normal… What was normal anyways?

He arrived at the entrance of the castle. It was boarded up. He thought for a bit… How should he get through this? Although he didn’t like the trend, he summoned a tik tok, one of those where the food on a plate had bites taken out of it to the beat of a song and then the plate as well. The tiktok managed to chew off the boards to the beat. At least it was useful for once.

He went inside, it was oddly dark, though he could tell it was supposed to resemble Peach’s castle to an extent. but rooms seemed to be missing, which made the main hall even bigger than it was before. The emptiness of it was slowly making 4 anxious… No, he had to keep moving!

He didn’t have a flashlight with him, which made it a bit hard to explore. But he moved along anyway, concentrating. He could feel 3. He knew he had to be there. He felt infinitely close. As he moved around, he noticed eyes. Eyes were staring at him and only him. More and more of them. Paying attention to every little movement he was making. Not only that, they felt uncomfortably familiar. He didn’t like thinking about it… He didn’t want to go back to the day he lost so much. He felt more and more anxious.

But the eyes would only stare. But even if they were only staring, they had him surrounded. It felt like that day, feeling so isolated against your will. Being forced into solitude, something you never wanted in the first place.

He sat down on the ground. He didn’t know what he should do.

“Are you here?” 4 called out softly, his voice shaky. He was way too nervous from this.

He didn’t get an answer back. Only eyes that came closer and closer to him, closing in… Until it was all dark.

It was all dark until a screen was put in front of him. It was bright from being all white, 4 took a bit to adjust to it. There was text on it in black.

“Scared?” it read “Don’t be. It’ll be over soon”

4 looked terrified. Over soon? Will he actually die here? Sure it was a thought that crossed his mind but- but he wasn’t ready for this!

“I just want him back…” 4 sobbed, tears rolling down his face.

“How selfish” the text read.

“I want him back so I can fix things… make it up to him”

The screen went blank for a bit. It left 4 more nervous.

“3… I uh…” 4 panicked, not knowing what to say “You know- we need you, man. The crew isn’t the same without you! You’re important!”

The screen still did not show an answer.

“What should I do…” 4 didn’t know anymore.

“Leave” the screen showed simply.

“No… That’s the one thing I can’t do. Not anymore” 4 grabbed the screen, finding something within himself to keep going “I can’t leave without him”

the screen shone bright, covering 4 in brightness, pulling him inside.

After a whole black room, he was inside a whole white room. Somehow it still felt the exact same, even if he could see now.

4 thought about what meme could help him in this situation. His mind drew a blank. What was he supposed to do in a blank room? He got up and walked around. Maybe he can find a weakness to this room. He pushed around, finding the edge of the room. He pushed with all his might. Although he wasn’t very strong. Then he got an idea.

He pulled out Beeg.

“Grow, boy!!” 4 commanded him with a big, determined smile.

Now usually Beeg wasn’t one to listen but knowing what was going on, he grew bigger and bigger, pushing at the room more than 4 could ever. 4 cheered him on.

The room collapsed, they were… they were inside the same room where… Oh. Memories.

Beeg shrunk and went back to 4.

He walked up to the table in the room. It felt just like the one in his old home. It was furnished similarly, even with the demonic keyboard. He resented looking at it. The fact that he got it made him feel awful all over again. Maybe it really would have been better if he just died there… But 3 saved him. Now it was time for payback.

“So, what do you want me to do?” he called out.

He looked around, seeing no one around. Or that was what he thought until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around but he saw no one. He felt confused… Then he could feel a poke at his side. He looked, nothing. Another poke coming from the other side. He looked, still nothing. And then another. Then another. Faster and faster until he was more annoyed than scared or confused and was also starting to feel a bit dizzy. He swore he could hear laughing.

“Hey! This isn’t funny!”

The poke attack suddenly stopped, as the monitor on the table turned on, which caught his attention. It had his editing program opened. The clips, pictures and sounds that were in the library were all too familiar to him.

“Is this some kind of sick joke? You know I couldn’t make that video by myself!” 4 was rather annoyed again. Why did he have to relive this again? He sat in front of the computer but didn’t touch the keyboard.

“And why is this thing here? Do you really expect me to work with it? I… I don’t want to go back to my lowest point”

The keyboard emanated an energy that made 4 feel so scared. He forgot how it can… manipulate you. He was about to reach for it but- he had to stay strong! This could not be the end of his story. Not the end of THEIR story. With 3. He knew… There had to be a way. If 3 saved him before, he had to pay back. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if it was his fault for 3 being gone.

He grabbed the keyboard and broke it in half. It screamed in its eldritch ways, releasing black blood. There was a lot of it. The monitor turned off.

“You’re not getting me like this! I don’t want a perfect video, I want you!”

4 stopped for a second. Only after saying it did he realise how odd that sounded. But he meant it. No matter how uh… not so straight it sounded.

He got up, looking around the room. He couldn’t wait for whatever entity was around to mess around with him even more.

He noticed a camera following his movement. He got close to the camera, trying to see if he could find a source or reason for it.

“You think I’m gonna feel shame for being broadcasted?” the camera turned around, instead showing footage it recorded. It had a lot of 3’s rants to himself. How many times he was stuck being the loser out of the 2 of them. How even when they turn out to be friends, he got the shorter end of it all. How everything around him only seemed to fall apart. Especially… when he and 4 got even closer. 4 felt shocked. He never knew he could feel this much emotional pain but… here he was… Being shown that he was only a source of failure for 3.

The screen of the camera turned off after it finished showing everything.

4 didn’t know what to do with himself. He… He didn’t know he hurt 3 so much. He felt so miserable. And conflicted, would it really be best for them to… part ways?

He stared at the turned off camera, trying to just… process everything.

The camera turned on again, although the screen was black but something seemed to move closer, like a dark shape, the dark shape reached out, in the form of a hand. 4 panicked and quickly backed away from the camera. The room went dark on the side of the camera, but the figure, although dark, was still noticeable through the dark. Especially for those red eyes. Those iconic red eyes… this was no doubt 3.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 4 cried.

“I did now” 3 spoke, his voice echoey, coming from all directions.

“What… What happened to you?” 4 was so scared. So devastated.

“I embraced the shadows… If you don’t fit anywhere else, why leave?”

4 didn’t know what to say, all he could do was cry.

“I wish I could’ve been there for you more, 3”

“You only would’ve ruined things more”

“But-”

“Now leave… or I’ll do something awful”

“You-” 4 was having none of that “I… I’m standing by what I said. I’m not leaving without you”

“Well, if you say so” 3 walked up to him, grabbing his hand. It was cold… It felt uncomfortable.

“Huh- What happened to you? Why… is your hand so cold?”

“What, you miss soft SMG3’s warm little hand or something? You miss when I held back?”

“What- What are you saying?”

“I’ve always felt miserable. This” he held his hand, intertwined with 4’s hand “Has made my life hell”

“Our… Guardian link?”

“Exactly” 3 squeezed 4’s hand but it wasn’t comfortable. Somehow there was still something behind it. Something that gave 4 hope.

“Well, it’s something we have to live with, of course it’s not gonna always be a great time! It doesn’t mean you need to destroy the world over it” “It can be broken”

“What?”

“Our link can be destroyed and I know how to do it”

“WHAT??”

“I CAN FINALLY BREAK AWAY FROM YOU”

“DO YOU REALLY HATE ME THIS MUCH???”

“THE OPPOSITE, YOU IDIOT”

“What..?”

“This link… This link gave me feelings I never wanted. I never wanted to feel nice about being close to you. It made me feel awful. Each fucking time. Yet I let you in, because this stupid fucking link made me weak about it. This stupid guardian link is at fault…”

3 gripped on 4’s hand even harder.

“3… no if- if you destroyed it- WE DON’T KNOW WHAT COULD HAPPEN, THIS IS SO SELFISH OF YOU”

“WELL FUCK, LET ME BE SELFISH SOMETIMES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT”

Some sort of red-black energy appeared around the 2, and familiar marks appeared on 3. The energy 4 could feel was familiar too… and scary.

“Anti meme energy..? Where-”

“You’re right” 3 laughed “In the end it’s truly the answer to all my misery!”

“No! 3! This is too dangerous! What if you got hurt??”

“I’ll take the risk!”

slowly, the marks appeared on 4 too. 3 was too strong… holding him back took everything in 4 and it still wasn’t enough.

The moment the link between the 2 was severed. It felt like 4 died. He didn’t but it felt like he did. Something beautiful inside him was gone now. the marks turned black, his hand was too.

He could barely stand, falling on his ass.

3 didn’t seem better. Even if he had the power of whoever was on his side now, it still didn’t change the fact that he got rid of something in himself that was deeply inherent to him.

The 2 just laid there, facing each other. The pain they felt made it too hard to move.

The emptiness 4 felt was unbearable. Even if he was able to get up, he didn’t know what he would do. He really didn’t anymore. He wondered if this was meant to happen.

3 took a while himself, he was clearly hurt, even when he got up. He moved slowly, pain in every step he took. He didn’t dare look 4’s way. He was wondering if it was only the pain or if he actually began to regret what he had done. He didn’t feel like figuring it out, so he left the room, leaving 4 by himself.

4 just laid there. Maybe he should just… not do anything… What was it worth anymore?

He closed his eyes, thinking about everything that happened in his life. All the memories, friends he made. All the time when he thought he made amends with 3, only seemingly repeatedly stabbing him in the back instead. Honestly, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself anyways knowing that he did that. Maybe he was being dramatic but… Whatever.

It felt like an eternity when he heard commotion from outside. He didn’t really care to check. He kind of embraced death at this point.

“4!! SMG4” he heard a voice he did not care to check.

“OH NO!” another voice came right beside him “I think he’s still alive- let’s take him back”

He was too tired to protest, even if he didn’t want to go.

The journey home felt kind of dull. Knowing what 3 did, it just… it broke him. He felt like it wasn’t only their link… that even disregarding that, in general the fact that 3 chose to depart from him hurt him in many other ways. He… really came to like him over the years. Seeing how he became so selfless, so helpful, so amazing too… 4 still kind of felt bad that 3 couldn’t see that about himself. He wished he was less stubborn and told him more. Though he was sure that wouldn’t have changed a thing anyways. But still, he wished he could tell 3 more that he found him so amazing in ways he never did with anyone else… he… he loved him.

4 suddenly shot up, the realisation hitting him like a truck.

“Woa-” Meggy was one of the ones who carried him, momentarily losing balance from 4’s sudden movement.

Mario was on his other side, he seemed to take 4’s stupidity better. One could say he was used to 4’s antics.

4 took a bit to catch his breath as they all stopped.

“Are you okay?” Tari came running to him.

“I think I love him” was all 4 could say before starting to cry. Truly, today wasn’t his day. Lots of tears.

“As in… SMG3?” Meggy asked.

“Yeah…” 4 looked down.

Mario patted him on the back.

“Mario knew you would realise at some point”

“About time, these last weeks have been ridiculous” Clench came out too. He was rather annoyed with the 2 at this point.

“It’s not that unexpected, yeah” Meggy chuckled.

A lot of the others held a similar reaction, no one seemed surprised.

4 didn’t look too happy though.

“He left… he left me there” 4 spoke again, looking up at the sky. He still felt way too empty.

“What happened anyways?” Tari asked.

“He…” 4 tried holding back the tears. Not very successfully at that. “I… I’ll need to discuss this later with SMG1 and 2…”

Everyone left him alone. The rest of the road back home was rather gloomy. 4 was starting to feel like it wasn’t only him who felt 3’s painful absence.

They helped him in his room to rest for a bit. After a while, 1 and 2 came into his room.

“We heard you wanted to speak with us” 1 said.

“Yeah… It’s bad”

“We could tell based on your black scars” 2 commented, pointing at how bad his face looked.

“He… He broke our link”

They both looked at him shocked, then at each other. The reaction made 4 feel even worse.

“That’s… how did he…”

“With… anti meme energy… I don’t know how he got it but… I have a bad feeling about this in general”

“Tell us everything” 1 had a determined look.

4 proceeded to tell them about everything. The way he was approached by 3, the weird dark change of his appearance, his comment of becoming one with the shadows. It seemed to leave both 1 and 2 speechless.

“Whoever is behind this” 1 spoke “They know enough to be clearly dangerous”

“Do you… Do you think I could mend my link with 3?” 4 looked up at the ceiling. He found that not looking at people made it easier to not cry.

“We… don’t know” 2 sighed. Neither of them had an idea.

“We’ve never seen anything like this happen before… we can try to look around for information to see if we can find something”

4 looked at them, smiling softly. “Thanks, I really appreciate that”

“It’s only natural… especially because the world is weaker without your link”

“It is?”

“Everyone is able to feel it” 2 said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s one of the pillars of a stable universe. Whoever told 3 how to break it must have done it to… oh no, 1, we should start searching right away!” the 2 ran out in a hurry.

4 chuckled dryly at that. It really wasn’t funny to him, he just found it kind of ironic in a way. Destroying 3’s life meant he’d also destroy the world… It was kind of fitting how especially now, 3 felt like the whole world for him. He wished he knew earlier so at least he could’ve told him before they parted ways like that.

~~~

4 didn’t do much for a few days. He spent the day coping. Healing. He could move around better after a while but his mental state didn’t get better. He couldn’t get 3 out of his mind. He thought that their link being gone meant that the opposite of this would happen but no. His friends tried to cheer him up with memes they would send him. Sure they got a chuckle out of him but these weren’t nearly enough to stop his sadness.

He was watching his own videos where 3 appeared when 1 and 2 came in his room.

“WE FOUND SOMETHING” 2 jumped through the door.

“Yeah?” 4 asked, trying to put on a smile.

“Yes! Your connection isn’t necessarily lost forever!”

“R– Really??” 4 looked at them with colour appearing in his eyes. There’s a way after all!

“Yes- considering it’s still fresh, and you don’t seem to care any less, there could still be a way. But the catch… 3 has to want it too”

“Huh…” 4 thought out loud “I mean, that makes sense… I wonder if he would…”

“We’ll at least try our best to convince him”

“Right right! Even though I was told I ruined his life” 4 looked away. He still didn’t know what to do with all his feelings about that.

“Ruined his life?” 2 questioned.

“He said that… I only ever seemed to make his life worse… and that I only made things worse when I helped him”

The 2 looked at each other then back at 4.

“What do you exactly mean by this?”

“Uh… He said that his businesses always seemed to fail around me, no matter how much he tried, and that things that would ruin him further… connected right back to me”

The 2 shared another look.

“Now… don’t panic but” 1 started.

“Someone was disrupting your link!” 2 finished 1’s thought.

“Huh?”

“It sounds like it. As we were looking at all the information we could find on links, we found that in certain ways, outside people can interact with links that are not theirs.That’s how we also tried to help you find 3 but we were blocked out by some force. And it’s not a meme guardian exclusive thing. So… Someone must have got in and… yeah”

4 looked shocked.

“So… It’s not my fault?”

“No, it’s not” they both comforted him.

This actually managed to make him feel better. Finally, something that could help him fix everything. Even if it will take a while.

“I was thinking… can you guys… still train me, even if alone? I… want to be stronger when I see him again. Because I’m sure I will… It can’t end like this”

Both nodded.

“We won’t go easy on you” 2 joked.

“Better not” 4 laughed.

The 3 of them left to train that day, 4 trained until he was exhausted. He was glad to push himself considering how he had been for the last few days. He felt a little more free now. Just you wait, 3…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since he really started training again. It was actually something that managed to make him feel better. He was wondering where 3 was at this point. On what point of the World he could’ve been. When he wasn’t able to sleep, he would look at places where he could be in. Making a list…

His cafe - he wasn’t

Internet graveyard - he wasn’t

That castle where he severed their link - he wasn’t

Peach’s castle - he wasn’t

Any of the Anti cast’s own living places - he wasn’t

Right by his side - 4 wished he was

His list only got longer with all the wrong answers. Just yesterday, they put out an announcement that if anyone sees any trace of 3, they should alert the crew. Though 4 thought of it as a bit hopeless.

He could only take his mind off it all with training. His days would be spent either training or sleeping. He left very little time for anything else. It started to worry the others, he realised as well but he just couldn’t stop. Not being whole can feel so devastating.

And he didn’t take it well in a more and more unhealthy way. He didn’t show it to anyone else, but he kept the burnt SMG3 plushie he found from the fire incident. From a beacon of hope, it went to something he would sleep with. It was starting to feel like he would never be able to sleep without it. He didn’t feel much shame in it anymore but he treasured it too much to just show it to anyone else. He needed to protect it at all costs. Sometimes he would talk to it, pretending like it was 3. Telling it so much. Telling everything that was inside his heart, all he wished he could actually tell 3. He truly felt like he reached a new low.

If that wasn’t already bad enough, he started having nightmares too.

Nightmares where he’d follow 3 but kept losing him. Nightmares that seemed to have a different face appear inside them as well. One he did not recognise yet felt familiar… Having a familiar painful feeling. He hated seeing the face. He would many times try to kill the figure but it felt as though they could read his mind, as they dodged his every move with a wide grin. But each time.. He would get closer… Surroundings would become clearer.

One time, it got so clear… He got an insane idea.

He searched up the place he saw… It was a real place. An abandoned studio. Weirdly fitting in a way.

“So, you want to go there because you dreamed about it?” Meggy asked. Some of the gang was gathered there.

“This entity’s influence must be strong if you’re getting dreams like that” 1 believed him. He had really no reason to lie.

“Wait, you believe him?”

“Yes, it is plausible. We already established someone interfered with their connection”

“So it could be that guy! And now they’re taunting 4!” 2 excitedly finished the thought.

4 smiled at the 2 of them.

“Thanks, guys. But yes… I want to go there. I need to… figure out what’s exactly happening”

“And save 3” Tari came up to him as well, reassuring him.

“Especially save 3” 4 smiled at her.

With the newfound determination, the squad, even with 1 and 2 included, headed for the studio building.

The building itself felt more than abandoned in a way. It looked like something went down inside there, a struggle of shorts. Walking in, they noticed the walls covered in gunshots, the place more dusty than would be usual for a place like this. And in some places, a disturbing amount of dried blood was spilled. What must have happened to this place was definitely sudden, quick and gruesome. Just staying in there made them all feel bad for the ex workers. They split up, searching the rooms in smaller groups since it wasn’t exactly a small building.

4 was searching with 1 and 2. 4 tried to push on even into darker rooms. Although he didn’t have the link to help anymore, he listened to 3… his words burned into his brain. So he paid attention to the darkest places, not letting the shadows go unaddressed, even if it got increasingly scary. 4 kind of didn’t care about that at this point. He had already lost too much to care, though he didn’t exactly tell this to his friends. It felt a bit selfish to him but it was genuinely feeling like there wasn’t much to live for without 3.

It was starting to feel kind of hopeless until a shadow looked weird. He looked at it, suspicions forming in his brain. He reached out but the shadow grabbed him first.

Before 1 or 2 were able to react, 4 was already gone, being pulled into the shadows.

4 was thrown back into a dark room that felt all too familiar at this point. In front of him was 3, still as shadowed as ever. At least they could see each other. They stared for a bit, both trying to see what the other one was feeling. 3 pulled 4 closer, in a kind of threatening way, which felt weird and sudden. Something in 4 made him wonder if he was perhaps influenced by something to do that.

“I told you to stay away”

4 sighed, a smile appearing on his face, which weirded 3 out.

“It’s impossible”

“No it’s not just-” he looked away, seemingly thinking but it felt more than that.

“...Let’s talk” 4 had a soft gaze on 3. If he had to die, he didn’t want to spend his last moments arguing with 3.

“We… We already had that… you should go… I did it for you as well”

4 still kept the calmness but the light eye twitch gave away that he didn’t like what he was hearing.

“It wasn’t our fault actually”

3 looked at him shocked. Then thought for a bit.

“I mean I… didn’t mean to make you feel like you… I know that you didn’t ACTUALLY mean to ruin me-”

“No no, you don’t understand, we basically got hacked”

“Hacked? What the hell you mean-” 3 questioned but got stopped by immense pain as he grabbed for his head groaning.

“Oh no, are you okay?” 4 immediately jumped beside him, with a hand on his upper back for support.

“How can I believe you?” 3 looked at him weakly.

“We… actually found out outside forces can… influence guardian links”

3 took a bit to take that in, looking away from 4, seemingly staring into the dark. Very intensely at that. He looked back at 4, pretty pissed.

“So someone framed you?” he looked like he was about to blow up.

“We think so…”

“So I… I” 3’s face softened.

4 knew what he felt, he hugged 3. He didn’t resist. Slowly, 3 leaned into 4’s touch.

“You know… it’s funny” 3 spoke again “I thought without the link if you came after me again… that I could just end you as soon as I saw you… but I…” he once again felt pain so he had to stop.

“3!!”

“It’s… We… uh” 3 looked weak.

“We’ll help you, don’t worry! The others are here too… we… we will help, man!”

3 couldn’t help but smile at 4, even through the pain.

“But I already ruined it… I.. I did that to you… I was told how to do it and I…”

“I still care about you”

3 looked at him, something in him breaking with tears rolling down his face.

“How can you?”

“We… We’re friends… we’ve been through a lot… you think I’m gonna let you go when you once risked your life to save me? You didn’t need to. You could have left me to my perfect video but you didn’t. Didn’t it feel like I betrayed you? But you came back either way.”

“That… That’s true”

“It’s… just another thing I love about you, 3”

The word choice made 3 a little flustered. 4 chuckled at that.

“You can’t just say sappy shit like that”

“You think I don’t mean it or something?”

“No no… It’s obvious you do, don’t worry”

“But uhm genuinely I’ve… I’ve been thinking and-”

And just as soon as 4 thought maybe he could tell 3- 3 got grabbed by a hand before not seen. However at this point it was familiar to him. He stood up and went right after, it was no use though. 4 didn’t lose hope yet. He was more angry right now if anything.

“NOT EVEN GONNA LET ME TELL HIM I LOVE HIM??” 4 called out “WELL THEN DO IT FOR ME PLEASE, BITCH”

The figure he had been seeing in his dreams came out of the shadows. Much clearer now, he could still see their wide, unfeeling smile. He didn’t know a TV screen headed guy could be such a piece of shit.

“You’re a feisty one”

“YOU”

“Ah, what, came back because you weren’t satisfied with the service? Sorry, no refunds!”

They started to walk away but 4 grabbed them.

“SERVICE??”

“The keyboard”

4 stopped.

“The…keyboard…?”

Then he realised.

“And it’s not like I even forced it on you” they laughed “You were the one who chose to buy it. Even with SMG3, I didn’t force him! HE joined me HIMSELF and-”

“You think I’m gonna let you go with what you did?”

They laughed.

“No… And that’s what I want!” the words scared 4 “With even all your friends! Such a great deal”

“WHAT are you?”

“I’m… oh there’s no fun in that, I’m only here to make a great show!”

“I don’t know if you noticed but I’m the show runner here!”

“It looked like you needed some help”

4 tried to punch them but then he was gone from the dark, right back beside 1 and 2.

“4!!! 4, you’re back!!” both hurried there beside him.

“Yes… I am'' 4 didn’t lose his anger a single bit. Those were the words of someone who is truly despicable. He only wanted to kill them more now.

They only got one more calm moment before the building shook beneath them. It was loud, almost like the building was alive.

“Oh no! We need to get out of here” 1 panicked, 2 and 4 followed behind, although 4 did so reluctantly. He knew 3 was in here. He didn’t want him gone.

Everyone evacuated. 4 stared at the building going down, he couldn’t just stand there, he had to run back, even if it would take him away as well.

He searched everywhere. Maybe it was the TV guy letting their guard down, but he was actually able to spot 3 in the real world now. He was still covered in those shadows though.

“3!!!” he cried out, running for the other who only then noticed him.

“4, you should get out of here”

“Not without you”

“Then we might not be able to get out…”

“I’ll… rather be going away with you than live knowing you died”

“You know- you’re pretty attached as well, even without the…” 3 looked away then back 4. He couldn’t help but smile at 4. It felt kind of nice in the end. It was easier to admit now.

“That’s cuz I love you” 4 reciprocated the smile.

3 looked away again, rather flustered at the words. But there was still a smile visible on his face.

“Like um… as in? Like that? Fuck, I’m sounding so stupid right now” 3 laughed at his own incompetence.

“Yeah uh… are you okay with that?” 4 returned the awkward laugh.

3 chuckled before grabbing 4’s face.

“What do you think, stupid?”

“I’m… glad”

They both leaned in, just about at the same time. The kiss came naturally. But it was so much more than that. They pulled each other close, it all just felt… perfect. Complete. So complete, as the scar on both of their faces started glowing. They didn’t know when they linked hands but with both hands held, they could see white strings appear, glowing with immense power, more and more appearing, connecting the 2.

The sight mesmerised both so much, they pulled in for another kiss, which only made the light stronger, ridding 3 fully of his corruption.

The light grew so big, like an explosion. An explosion of so much emotion before unspoken.

The light grew so big, the crew outside noticed.

“They did it!” 2 jumped up “That’s a lot of meme guardian energy”

“Right on” 1 laughed “You know, I’m proud of them… they came so far”

“They really did” Meggy joined the 2.

“Will they be able to get out though?” Tari was concerned.

But then the light only grew larger and faster at that, basically taking in the whole building. It was strong enough to knock everyone on their asses.

As the light dissipated, the 2 hovered up from all the debris. Both looked unharmed, their hands linked.

Everyone came up to hug them. It had been a while since they had such a big and emotional hug.

“We’re so glad you 2 are safe”

“I can’t believe you actually made it out”

“You guys better not do anything this reckless ever again”

These were some comments the 2 received. But they were happy they made it out, made it out alive and together. There were a lot of things unanswered but none of that mattered now. At least not for now.

#smg34 #smg4

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