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@manifeasts
#MANIFEASTS: A PRIVATE & FRIENDS ONLY AMAJIKI TAMAKI, THE SUNEATER OF MY HERO ACADEMIA. HEAVILY AFFILIATED WITH LEMILRION. UNLESS WE'RE MUTUALS ELSEWHERE, DO NOT FOLLOW ME FIRST. NO RULES; EVERYONE HERE SHOULD KNOW WHAT'S UP.
BLOGROLL: @overhual, @erazur, @iceply, @plurarity.
"hey, no sweat." what had started as a few drops had quickly turned into a deluge, and the two of them had wasted no time in getting back inside. even with the interruption, it'd been good to see it start to come out of their shell. not unlike a certain scowly someone. said someone might not be here now, but still she could allow herself a silent teasing jab his way. but tamaki is hardly scowling now -- in fact, they looked more peaky than anything, a sure sign that it was just about time for some lunch. "just over there," she gestures to the sideboard against the wall, already occupied by a few potted flowers, but definitely not lacking room for one more. "but more importantly -- you hungry?"
" ALRIGHT. " he steps towards the counter, casting his gaze towards the array of flowers. marigolds and lilies stand proudly in display, freckling the room with shades of brilliant hue. it's all so pretty, tranquil enough to soothe even his nerves; the scent welcomes him in, caressing the air in a gentle, blossoming perfume. setting the basket down, tamaki turns towards aerith, offering her a faint smile. " yeah, i could eat, " it replies, pacing back towards the epicenter of the room, finding itself fidgeting with its fingers — a gesture quickly resolved by pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants. they stand just in front of the dining room's table, hovering behind a chair. " you really are the best, aerith. do you need any help? "
SUNEATER TAMAKI
THE AIR SMELLS LIKE RUBBLE; like the remnants of fire in the air, iron, and construction. were he not already so used to it, his nose might scrunch — but this is where she thrives. this, the destruction and aftermath. this, the battlefield-turned-graveyard. she's not sure how many people are trapped, but she's positive the devestation is nearly countless if they've called her in. red converse adorn its feet as it steps through the path suneater creates. " THANKS BACK ... careful not to step anywhere i touch before it turns to dust. stay behind me, okay? i'll point you in the direction of survivors. " she kneels before a large, concrete slab. five fingers make contact and it begins turning to dust. they know suneater's anxiety well, but they keep it tucked beneath a small smile. " were you here when the actual fighting was going on? "
THEY'VE KNOWN ABOUT TENKO FOR SOME TIME, now. all might's protégé is a difficult title to hold discreetly, when probing eyes observe the retired hero's every breath. but tamaki has never seen his quirk in action, only heard rumors — a potentially destructive, intimidating ability of rotting anything he touches. judgement is quick to spread among heroes alike, but as he steps back to let tenko work, seeing boulders and concrete wither before its eyes, it doesn't see ruination. it sees the act of rebuilding, starting before its very eyes. " no problem, " they insist, casting their eyes towards the bright, red cape coiled over tenko's shoulders. amid the gray rubble and slate debris, she stands out like a beacon. red: a color of life.
" for most of it, at least, " tamaki replies, starting to move as tenko does, though remaining directly behind her. " i was on containment. " her quirk is amazing, it thinks. whereas it would take great efforts to search among the collapsed buildings, tenko clears the issue in moments. " ... i think i can hear someone. we must be close. "
" TAMAKI. " his smile falters just slightly — to show his sincerity. tamaki knows his tactics to encourage well, and he knows getting through to it might require some extra special, secret abilities; the ones reserved for him alone, that he dare not share with others. soft eyes notice the tight grip on their hands, so he reaches, aiming to cut through clouds and darkness. stong hands unravel the tight fists tamaki has his in, and replace that violence with benevolence — with warmth and assurance. " i know it's scary. " thumb brushes over the back of its hand. he is here, and his grip on the other will be as tight as it needs, for as long as it needs, on whatever slippery slope he finds himself on. and if needed, he'll ride down the slopes with them, if nothing else but to keep tamaki from being alone -- and perhaps, to offer a safe place to land. " if you get tripped up, look at your cue cards! and if you get nervous, take a breath and start again ... which i know is easier said than done. look at me or nejire if you need extra encouragement. " a kiss is tenderly placed to its forehead. " eight minutes may seem like a long time, but once you get up there, it's going to go by faster than you realize. "
THAT FAMILIAR SWELL OF EMOTIONS, spiraling like water shooting down a drain, swirling his mind until it turns into a slurry of worry, and trepidation, and fear; sweat lining his palms and flecking along his forehead, his heartbeat quickening in his chest so much so that he can feel his jugular pulse with each heartbeat; his throat closing, making words difficult to eject from his body, if it wasn't already impossible with the way his mind races every which way. there's something sinister pulling his strings, obsidian and shapeless, taking roost over his shoulders and whispering in his ear, rearing his head from reassurances and comfort. it's all so overwhelming that he can't possibly bear it, that he would rather curl up and bury himself in that sinister feeling, learn to get used to it rather than fighting it, accept that this is life — his life — often unfair, but inevitable nonetheless.
but that voice breaks through his dark. a strong hand holds his own cowarding, clammy hand, and tamaki instinctively tightens his grip around it, grip it so hard that he has the leverage to push underfoot and emerge from that entropic, dark place, and they're present again, they can breathe again, feeling the touch of mirio's lips against his skin, that warm breath gusting with life. he believes in them. no, it extends past belief: he knows that they can do it — will do it. it feels that assurance radiating from him, lapping along his body like the warm rays of the sun. it can't disappoint him, it thinks. not when he's counting on it like this. for the first time in what seems to be eons, tamaki takes a deep breath. " okay. " it steps closer, not wanting to break from that warmth. " you and nejire... yeah. i'll try to do it. " a pause breaks his trail of thought. no trying. no what ifs. they correct themself, breathing, " i can do it. "
" THANKS FOR LETTING ME TAKE COVER HERE. " its voice, though quiet, lacks a certain tremulous nature so commonplace for him. he should have known that it'd start raining on a day like this; things were too perfect, too comfortable, and he was enjoying himself entirely too much. still, he feels honored that aerith would show them her garden; it can only hope that she felt the revere they hold towards it, and the understanding of the sanctity of things held so close to one's heart. tamaki steps through the cottage gingerly, raising the basket of freshly-plucked flowers with both hands. " at least the rain will be good for the flowers... oh, where should i put this? " @greatgospell.
" HMMMM. " he knows this downward spiral of theirs. though the thoughts aren't his own, they're almost loud enough to be interpreted as such. he knows the rapid racing of tamaki's mind — and how even the loudest voice might not cut through the doubt. ( if only it could see what he does: the light that eats the sun, his motivation, his biggest hero. ) but that belief is harder to express than it seems. " hey. " his voice rings through, stern but caring — if only to be a hand extending to tamaki in the depths of his mind; a single light in the darkness. " don't look at the others. i'll be in the crowd. why don't you look at me? i'll be looking at you, sure, but i do that all the time! i'll be there for you. and look, i can sit in the middle of the crowd so it looks like you're talking to everyone! "
ITS TEETH DIG INTO ITS LIP, gnawing anxiously upon puckered flesh in subconscious desire to soothe himself. it's trying not to feel as intimidated as it is, really, but the mere idea of standing up in front of an ever-observant class is as daunting as it gets, and that's not even accounting for the presentation itself. they feel exposed, seen in ways too intimately than desired, like a prey-animal without the cover of tall grass. hunted. always hunted. their downcast gaze only snaps to attention at mirio's interjection, firm enough for them to gain their footing amid the spiral, slippery as those slopes can be. the traction is enough for them to notice the rabbit-quick beating of their heart, the pounding of blood coursing along his temples, agitated enough that they beat like drums in his head. " maybe... " they trail off, loosening the grip on their hands which, they just noticed, had gotten firm enough to feel the bone beneath. they exhale, all taut muscle and tight-breathed. " it's just an eight minute presentation. and i've timed myself when i practiced, but — that was when i was all alone, and no one was watching me. what if i get tripped up? or too nervous that i forget what i'm saying? "
" I THINK THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT ME, SUNEATER. " ( scritch, scritch ) with gloved hands so all her hard work to ease the irritation of her skin is not clawed away by chipped nails. decay steps forward. a red, long cape follows behind it — the only nod to grandmother that they bear, though toshinori states he looks so much like her otherwise. " i'll clear a path to the survivors. your quirk's pretty cool, by the way. " / @manifeasts
" GOT IT. " fizzing nerves are tied and skewered for sake of the mission. his sights constrict towards the task at hand, blotting out the unnecessary anxieties that typically weigh in his gut; all that matters is finding the injured, assuring that their suffering wouldn't last. long, cushioned tentacles protrude from his fingers, powerful enough to begin helping tenko by pushing away the smaller debris blockading its major wreckage. suneater glances towards its partner, furrowed eyebrows lessening slightly. " thanks. " it's clumsier than intended, but he forces himself to remain steadfast. " so is yours... if we didn't have you, so many of the injured wouldn't be able to make it out nearly as quickly. that really makes all the difference. "
" FIRST OFF, you're totally cool. anyone who says otherwise has no idea what they're talking about. " a wave of dismissal to anyone who might think such! tamaki amajiki is the coolest person he's ever met — and well, he's met quite a few people! his hand, warm and strong sets on tamaki's shoulder; a gesture meant to steady and reassure. " let's focus on the things you can do. you're focused, and when you really put your mind to something, nothing's going to stop you from doing it -— not even yourself. " mirio's head tilts. his smile, though present, is far gentler than the unbridled confidence towards anyone else. " you can do this, tamaki. you're strong; your light outshines the sun ... what's one public speech, huh? nothing for the suneater! "
THEY WRING THEIR HAND anxiously, stroking the back of their palm in slow, fickle movements, in the vain hope that doing so would dull their sharp edges and calm the nerves bursting from the pit of its stomach. mirio always has a faith in him that he could never bottle and take as his own, as much as he wishes he could; the prospect of standing in front of so many curious, judging faces — eyes boring into the front of his skull — having to remember what to say and how to say it, not too loud or soft, and to look pleasant rather than focused, and this, and that... it's too much. too much. " 'one public speech' — that's easy for you to say, " he dribbles, dipping his head downward to avert his gaze from mirio's smile, lest he crumble even more from the weight of his confidence. " you're great at talking to others. " his expression sours into increasing pessimism. " how can i focus when i have so many eyes looking at me? maybe if they all turn their heads away... "
Boku no Hero Academia 116 - Fat Gum bullying Suneater (´ ε ` )♡
𝐔. | hey hey, amajiki! you're lookin' a little... uh, well you're lookin'! how about we go grab somethin' to eat, huh? my treat! / @wingin.
" HEY THERE, HAWKS. " noticing that they stopped breathing the moment the pro hero motioned a downstroke towards them, it sucks air into his lungs quietly, exhaling through tense nostrils. lunch with the number two hero alone. the theory is nice, but tamaki knows better than to think it any other way than a disaster waiting to happen. he's going to humiliate himself. but he can't just say no to something like that — not like he has the spine to, anyway. " you'd... actually want to? " he doesn't mean to sound doubtful, but he'd wager that it'd be more of a chore than anything... " sure. ... where to? "
" YOU WERE SO AMAZING today, nejire. " its lips purse into a faint smile as it approaches, idly fidgeting his fingers with hands stuffed deep into its pockets. once-whipped, tangled hair has been brushed back into place neatly, and, dismissing the odd wrinkle or two of being folded into a locker, his school uniform neatly replaces the hero costume guising his face during training. " i — i mean, you always are, of course, but... err... hey, did you want to get lunch with me? " @motionin.
" IT'S NOTHING SPECIAL. " his voice, tremulous and faint, as if the slightest interference would slice through and steal the very breath from their lungs. its hand is raised, anxiously outstretched towards his company, with the stem of a cherry blossom protruding from his skin, as if it were an extension of a proud tree. " i just, um, had a few cherries today, and i know you like flowers... " he's starting to deflate with each passing word. " i'm making this awkward, aren't i? " @greatgospell.
" I CAN'T DO IT. " it feels the pull of muscle and meat upon its straining nailbeds as his fingers dig into its palms. everything is grating, like the scream of nails dragging down a chalkboard, sending tension up the spine until its shoulders pinch towards its ears, wound up like a cat on its haunches. their lips press firmly together, inadvertently releasing the agitation brewing deep in their throat with a gentle whine. " i... i'm not cool or charismatic like you and nejire. i'm just going to mess it all up. " @lemilrion.
