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thehusbandoden · 9 months

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You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

Tips <3

Reblogs help spread and support my work, therefore they help me immensely but any support is appreciated <33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way minus reblogging.

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zebarius · 5 months

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Now that Scar's won, it's that time when everyone comes together to choose the winner's motif/symbol.

Grian is the Sun, Scott the Stars, Pearl the Moon, and Martyn is Mars.

Now what of Scar?

I definitely like the idea of Scar being the Earth, as many people have proposed.

I've also have seen some people propose Pluto.

However, I'm not a big fan of this one.

My reason for not agreeing with this option is pretty simple. Pluto, while sharing some similarities with Scar (like loneliness and being an outcast), doesn't really have enough meaningful connections or parallels for it to be used as a motif.

I think that since Scar's theme is so full of flowers this season-- Sunflowers, Poppies, and Lilacs-- this naturally connects back to the Earth, which also ties to a lot of other symbolisms as well, making it the better option out of the two.

So I've decided to throw my vote in for the Earth as Scar's symbol.

I think it just fits, in the end.

The Sun and Moon are both in close relation to Scar, with Pearl and Scar being each other's foil, and the Sun being vital to the Earth (desert duo aaaangst!!!). And the fact that all three are stuck in each other's orbits is perfect.

And on top of all this, is that the Earth is lonely. Just like Scar was this entire season.

The Earth is the only planet we know with such an overflow of life. The only one in this solar system that is covered in plants and animals and people. There is no other planet like it. It is alone in its uniqueness. And just like the Earth is alone in the solar system, Scar was alone in the game.

I think that loneliness, paired with Scar's flower themes, and the relation to the Sun and the Moon, is what makes the Earth such a perfect symbol for Scar.

I feel like any other symbol would leave out important aspects of his character and his story.

Anyways, what are your opinions on the matter? I'm curious to hear your thoughts. Don't hesitate to mercilessly poke holes in my argument. It builds character.

#secret life #trafficblr #secret life smp #life series #traffic smp #traffic life #traffic series #traffic life series #gtws #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #life series winners #i accidentally made this sound #like an essay #lol #that wasn't my intent

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floydstruly · 7 months

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i know it’s been too long.

synopsis: it’s cold, much too cold for a student from Royal Sword Academy—so Floyd figures out a solution that benefits the both of you.

cw. nothing! Yay! It’s just pure fluff >__< not proof read though also! No use of y/n or any mention of name I hate using that so umm not really warning free but still! Whatever!

note. someone give me a request or talk to me in my inbox I’m so bored

pairing: floyd x gn!reader

Winter break is just a week away but even so, it is needlessly gloomy today, clouds shroud the tops of the school and the rain falls down relentlessly, the class is all but silent as your teacher forces you to sit down, lecturing you on the past monarchies–princes, princesses, kings, queens.

You're sure if Floyd was attending Royal Sword Academy with you, he’d be bored half to death. You jot a couple notes down with your ink pen, in the corner of your page is a doodle of what is your best attempt at an eel–or more like Floyd.

Oh, that’s right. You sit up straighter and shudder at the sound of his name in your mind, you promised that you would go and see him during winter break. The thought of going to Night Raven College by yourself, with no entourage or teachers or friends terrifies you.

You think of all the eyes that will follow you around the halls and rude remarks you will receive–it scares you enough to listen to the professor. You immerse yourself in the lecture, trying to keep your mind away from all the possible things that could happen over the break.

Maybe it’ll be worth it if you get to be with your boyfriend, but still, hopefully winter break doesn’t come soon.

No one is around.

You can hear little woodland creatures chittering and the echoes of laughter amidst the snow. The plants are covered in a thin, fragile layer of frost–once green, but now, all wilted and lifeless from the relentless weather. The snowfall flutters down in a serene, peaceful way; like powder, covering the once barren rival campus in a pure white.

Along with the winter season comes the cold, crisp air that continuously nips at you, your skin red with what is reminiscent of blush. You should’ve worn a layer more–you feel as though you will freeze over the longer you spend outside.

You can’t help but admire the spectacle, although it may not be anything special, it reminds you of your home, which doesn’t seem so far away anymore. As you reluctantly trek through the snow and towards the college, it crunches down under your weight.

A cold breeze passes by as you walk, you shiver, burying your face into the scarf Floyd gifted you not so long ago. It craves itself with the image of an eel, wrapping around your neck and comforting your loneliness with what is reminiscent of him. You take a breath in, it still smells like him, sort of like fresh river water.

It’s hard to remember the last time you’ve seen him.

“Shrimpy!” A shrill, excited voice calls out to you when you poke your head into the Monstro Lounge curiously.

That’s right, it’s been at least four months since you’ve last heard that voice in person. Knowing the contempt that Night Raven students have for the ‘pissy and pauper’, you’ve never once tried to venture too far outside of Royal Sword Academy, let alone think about it with the exception of school events.

That’s what you look forward to most–because those are the only times you see Floyd, really.

You can feel a couple watchful eyes on you and your uniform as white as snow, completely untarnished and the face of perfection. You adjust your clothes under the weight of their gaze nervously, you’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have come to spend the holiday with Floyd.

“See? Told yah this was a good idea, they like you already!” You’re not sure that ‘like’ was the right word, maybe something more akin to disdain or loathing. He smiles and waves his hand to beckon to follow him, his rows of pearly, sharp teeth only add to your unease.

You oblige, allowing yourself to be whisked away by merman.

The heart of the fireplace beats against the two of you, slowly chasing away the remains of the harsh winter cold. Floyd is sprawled against the velvety couch in the VIP lounge, his head rested soundly on your lap. You sit stiffly in place and push his hair aside to allow yourself to admire his features more closely.

You’re all alone again, but it feels much more welcoming now.

His fingers find their way under your eel-like scarf, you shudder at the touch of his skin against yours–fingertips pressing against your ever increasing pulse. It’s a foreign, his hands are cool. But you don’t try to swat his hand away, instead, you sigh and press the palm of his closer to your neck.

“You cold?” He asks, shifting his body, sitting up and pushing the scarf away from your neck. You nod quietly in response, underneath the soft, woolly fabric, he manages to make you grin for a moment–melting the confines of your enclosed heart.

He unravels the scarf and tosses it on the dirty floor, exposing your neck to the open air–it doesn’t help at all, but you can’t help but laugh. It takes a moment and comes out gradually, first, as a snicker, then into a giggle, and lastly, into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, “did I help?”

“No,” you shake your head, your smile finally reaches your eyes, “can I have my scarf back? That just made me colder.”

“You don’t need that stupid thing, you have me.” He buries his head into your neck in place of the scarf, his arms around your waist in a constrictive embrace. It doesn’t help either, he is cold blooded after all. You can feel his teeth nip at your skin, just as the air did outside not so long ago. But it’s much more pleasant.

“Stupid?” you ask as you return the hug, “you gave that to me.”

“You have the real Floyd right here! You can have it back after winter break, just pay attention to me for now, I missed you lots.”

For some odd reason, it feels a lot warmer now.

“Yeah, don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me more often.”

Maybe, you can ignore all the hate filled stares if it means just a moment longer with Floyd.

“I missed you too.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x y/n #floyd leech x yuu

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kekisu · 3 months

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a very popular headcanon people have (i Think its popular. at least a lot of my twitter mutuals agreed with me a while back) is that joker comes from inaba, and if youve played p4 you know that theres literally nothing to do there

so a big headcanon that i used to be obsessed with is that he would spend a lot of his days skateboarding or biking around listening to music and exploring old dirt roads.. and he ended up getting a special interest in bugs and reptiles because hed come across so many during his little solo adventures. hes also very well versed in fishing its not a fixation or anything but just something hes pretty good at

this is why i tend to draw joker like some sort of skater boy. i think hes always stood out a lot in this small town even before the false assault charge, like he wasnt disliked or bullied but he just didnt really fit in. and this didnt bother him. i think he only realized how boring his life was when he became a phantom thief and got all these new friends in this new big city that understood him despite the circumstances that led him here. like man i really used to live like that and see nothing wrong with it? i didnt yearn for more?

it makes it even more painful when he has to leave and they naturally drift apart. because they all have dreams and ambitions, and the best years of their lives are waiting for them around the corner. but joker is back in this small town where theres nothing to do but hang out in some food court or poke around in the woods. i imagine this newfound loneliness is really hard on him, not to mention the guilt for feeling like hes somehow to blame for. well, whatever happened with goro

to me personally i think goro lived. i think he mustered up the perseverance to bite and claw his way out of shidos palace after seeing that even someone like him has a chance at being loved, he just didnt really remember this in marukis reality because it was all a blur. so both goro and joker were completely clueless as to what his fate would be if they went back to their true reality, which is what was so scary. the uncertainty. he could very well be dead but how could they know for sure? i just dont like the thought of him dying before he could truly live, even though i understand the tragedy of it can be poetic, i just cant stand for him going out like that because i relate a lot to his struggles. and i think it would go against the overall positive message of p5r. sure not everybody gets to have a second chance or a happy ending, but. man. anyways

joker fully believes goro is dead though. he wouldnt be crazy to assume this considering how they parted ways in shidos palace. but it eats away at him and maybe he really does go crazy. maybe his life feels like its stuck in time and while his old friends are out chasing their dreams, hes stuck. broken and shattered over feeling like he couldve done something to save him, knowing jokers savior/martyr complex

im running out of steam and i didnt mean to ramble on about my post-p5r headcanons but, to wrap it up: goro is in rehab somewhere and has a service dog to help with his dissociation and mood swings. and a couple other stuff. he feels like if he walks back into jokers life itll mess something up like joker will just break down or something. so he keeps his distance until they cross paths again. im just very obsessed with the idea of goro getting his life together vs joker wanting so badly to chase that high of phantom thievery again but failing and being actually so depressed

man morgana must be exhausted

#persona 5 #idk might as well tag it? DFJHNJDMKSNDJ #I WANT PEOPLE TO SEE MY RAMBLE.#pleaseeeee tell me what you think i love to think about post p5r shuake <- literally running a zine about it

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homestuckreplay · 4 days

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Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions

Week 2 Retrospective

John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.

Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.

‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)

Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in.

I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48).

Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.

John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them.

I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.

On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.

Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.

And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together.

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs.

Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this.

John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself.

John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself.

That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?

The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20.

All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).

Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.

I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.

Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.

Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong.

If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad.

‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)

To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds.

The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis.

#homestuck #john egbert #analysis #i wanted to house of leaves this post so bad........#also is it cool and helpful to have all the page number citations or is it really bad to read. anyone who has opinions please tell me #(shaking in my boots as i state that 'games are an interactive immersive experience' without the 20+ citations that i Know this claim needs

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mynahx3 · 2 months

Text

I Tried, I Really Did

Okiii Big warning yall!! This is JJK x reader but no love interest, just talks of their highschool time (Might expand more into this AU) Kinda hinted at with Geto x reader and Gojo x reader but nothing concrete This is a very DARK story with no comfort. Reader gets into a really bad headspace so if this is triggering for you I don't recommend you read it. Ending is kinda up to interpretation but still. It gets dark. Just wanted to write this idea out and it spiraled, might write an epilogue to it but idk. Gonna mainly focus on my other fics after this.

The cold winter air bites at your face, causing a prickling sensation on your skin as you walk down the street. Street lights adorned for the upcoming holidays illuminate the stores. Happy families and couples are walking down the street, eager to escape the cold.

The last few years have been rough on you due to the overwhelming stress of being a sorcerer. As a young sorcerer, you face the daily burden of curses and loneliness, yet your future is full of possibilities. Still… You couldn’t help but feel tired, burdened by the daily challenges of curses and loneliness. A loud laugh grabs your attention, making you up, you see a group of teenagers. They laughed together without a care in the world, enjoying their time together. Surely thinking they were going to be together forever. At this sight, your mind began to wander to simpler times with people you thought would be by your side forever, the bracelet on your wrist was a reminder.

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“Suguru! Satoru! Shoko and I got ice cream!”

The four of you had just met earlier that year but were thick as thieves since you were the only first years. You guys were always together on missions and hanging out. Getting into trouble with the teachers and running pranks on them. Each of you were strong in your own right, with the future of becoming strong sorcerers ahead of you. You were especially grateful for your new friends who made the transition to Jujutsu Tech easier. You discovered your cursed technique later in life, considered a late bloomer, and were fortunate to be found by a sorcerer visiting your country. Quickly, you were brought to Jujutsu Tech, a school specializing in curses, to learn more about the world of curses. Seeing your grocery bags, the boys run over to you, smiling and nudging each other roughly. Arguing already on which one they called dibs on.

“Fine Satoru.” The black haired teen sighed, plopping next to you. Satoru eagerly took the bag to look through it. You each took your own seat against a wall nearby. Suguru looked over at yours, raising his eyebrow at the sight of your new bracelet.

“That new?” He asked, twirling some of his longer hair around a finger in thought. The teen had started growing it out just before starting high school, so it just reached his shoulders.

It was a cute beaded bracelet, a simple thing. The color really complimented your skin tone, in his opinion.

“Yup! Shoko remembered what my favorite color was and bought it for me.” You confirmed, smiling brightly.

“It’s nothing much.” She shrugs, tossing her stick into the bag, going into it to grab the cigarettes she stole, much to your chagrin. You had begged her not to start smoking, having heard how bad it is for people.

“It’s cheap.” Satoru chimes, earning a smack on the shoulder from you.

"Well, I love it.” Poking your tongue out at him playfully while he rubbed the sore spot.

The beginning of school with them was like a dream filled with adventures. Each day you cherish them, growing closer to them.

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Your days were bland now. A cycle of the same old thing. Get up, eat, exorcize curses, eat, sleep, and repeat. Nothing was new. Nothing. The only company you had was the occasional visit of your two closest friends, Shoko and Satoru, but those were rare. The two of them also had a busy schedule, as is usual for a sorcerer. Nothing reminded you more of your loneliness than the holidays, seeing people with their loved ones while yours were miles away. You had the financial resources to fly over and visit your family, but your packed schedule filled with missions and training left you with no time to make the trip. Your interactions with your family now solely revolve around phone calls, filled with updates on your life, nostalgic anecdotes, and the occasional words of encouragement that echo through the receiver. As you walked through the streets of Tokyo it began to snow. Raising your hand up you admired the snowflakes falling onto your palm. Mind wandering still, thinking of when it all began to go downhill.

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“You want to stay weak? You're not going to get any better like this.” Satoru looks down at you, sucking onto a lollipop that he had for the entire fight. Still looking as perfect as ever, not having broken a sweat.

You lay on the floor, tears brimming your eyes from frustration and your face red from the sparring session you had with him. Shoko and Suguru sat in the grass nearby, watching the two of you go at it for the last couple hours. Each round ended the same as the last.

“Take it easy on her!” Shoko yelled, frowning at the white haired teen smiling away.

“She shouldn’t have asked to train if she couldn’t keep up!” He yelled back, walking towards her and beginning to bicker with her. Satoru left you in the grass, as usual. Seeing this, Suguru got up, offering you a hand to get up with a soft smile on his face.

""You did well; don't let him bother you," Suguru said reassuringly as he helped you up. Shoko and Satoru continued their argument in the background, but you were grateful for Suguru's support at that moment. "Satoru is just an idiot; you're decent for your level."

"Gee, thanks." You laughed, sarcasm dripping from your tone, brushing the dirt off your uniform. A frown was etched on your face while you rubbed your shoulder, sore from being thrown to the floor countless times.

This was usually how training with Suguru or Satoru went, with one of them always throwing you to the floor. Wiping your tears from your eyes, you let out a huff, silent as everyone talked to each other, returning to sit back on the grass for a break. The three of them laughed about something you didn’t catch, too busy being frustrated and embarrassed by yet another loss against him.

Lately, you have been training your butt off, only to have the same results. Your cursed technique, illusion creation, was not improving much; despite hours of practice, you still struggled to maintain the illusions for more than a few seconds. Granted, you were already a grade 2, which is higher than the average student could say while in their second year. But being in a class with the three of them, anyone would feel subpar. Two of the strongest sorcerers of this generation, one hailing from a great clan, along with a sorcerer with a rare healing technique. While you were just an exchange student who was thrown into a different country, relearning everything they thought they knew about the world. While you did find solace in your classmates; the four of you became close over the last couple of years together. Still, you couldn't help but feel like you were a random puzzle piece, constantly trying to fit into a picture where the other pieces seemed to align effortlessly. Zoning out, you didn't hear your name being called out—a hand waving in your face.

"Hello!" Shoko laughed, nudging your shoulder. "Welcome back to reality."

You look up and see the three of them looking at you, smiles on their faces. Shaking your head, you laughed with them.

"Sorry, just out of it today." You say this, rubbing your neck and looking back at the sky. "What were you saying?"

"Just thinking we should hit up the arcade; it's been awhile since we all went." She said, All three of them looked you expectantly.

"I'm good, guys." You shrugged your shoulders, sloping as you weakly smiled at them. "Maybe next time."

The group departs after finishing up the training session, with the three of them heading to the arcade. Going back to your room, you tiredly take a shower and change into your clothes. Feeling dejected as you go lay down. Your emotions were taking hold as you looked up at the ceiling. You couldn't shake the feeling of isolation that had been creeping in lately. It was hard to explain, but you just needed some time alone to recharge.

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You don’t know when you got home. The apartment was clean, almost barren, and the fridge was empty from not being refilled recently. Only a carton of milk and leftover takeout from the previous night inside it. You drop your snow covered coat onto the hanger with your scarf, leaving your shoes on the rack. Slipping your slippers on, you go into the kitchen to eat. With no other option, you reheat the takeout. While that was in the microwave, you got a call. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you saw your parents calling, sighing, and you answered it.

“Hey mom.” You said, picking up the milk carton, looking at it not even halfway full.

“Honey! How’s my sweet girl doing?” She asked, kindness in her tone. Your family is loud in the background, as usual.

“I’m okay,” you replied, pouring the milk down the drain. Your appetite is gone as you toss the leftover food out.

"Well, that’s good. We miss you, dear; we really wish you’d come over instead of working so much.” She says, “Don’t be getting fat now! You know how you are with food.”

“I know, mom.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Tell everyone I love them. I gotta head to bed. Long day.”

“Well, get some rest; your father says hello! Love you, dear!”

With that, the call ends, and the silence in your apartment deafens. Finding nothing else to do, you walk around, cleaning up the already cleaned apartment. While doing so, you come across an old picture on your desk. Six teens were all smiling together at a carnival in the summer before things went to shit.

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One fateful mission, involving a powerful foe, altered the dynamics of your group forever, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty.

The once tight group is more spread out now. Everyone felt different now, especially after losing the Star Platinum Vessel. Satoru and Suguru returned from the mission differently. No one was as close; the four of you rarely saw each other. Shoko was always on campus; the higher ups didn't want to risk losing her, while everyone else was sent on solo missions due to the high abundance of curses now. This pressure was felt not only by you but also by Suguru, the two of you looking worse for wear. On a rare day, you happened to see him, taking the chance to check on him.

“Sugu! How are you doing?” You asked, walking with him in the dorm hallways. He barely acknowledged you, smiling weakly your way. His long hair was down with a tired look on his face, not that you looked any better.

“I’m fine. What about you? You look tired.”

You wave off his worry with a hand, dismissing his question with a laugh.

“Nothing I can’t handle; I gotta suck it up.” You laugh, not noticing the worried look in his eyes for you, too busy noticing the time on your watch. “Take care of yourself, you look like shit man. I’ll catch you later. I've got to go on this mission with Haibara, but I've got to look over the paperwork. We should try to hang out soon, dude; it's been too long.”

You two never got to hang out, sadly. The mission ended with Haibara passing, something you and your underclassman, Nanami, carried with guilt. The unrelenting stream of missions, coupled with the lack of respite, weighed heavily on your shoulders, eroding your spirit and straining your bonds with those around you. The mounting pressure and constant demands pushed Suguru to his limits, until one day, the weight of it all became too much to bear, and he reached his breaking point, shattering the facade of composure he had struggled to maintain.

Satoru was the one to break the news to you, waking you up in the middle of the day. Disbelief at his words, anger at yourself for not questioning him more, not checking in on him like you should. Too absorbed in your own missions and feelings. Tears ran down your face as Satoru took you into his arms. The two of you were mourning someone who was very much alive.

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You reminisce about the time when you and Satoru would spend hours training together, sharing stories under the starlit sky, forging a bond that felt unbreakable. The two of you comforted each other greatly after Suguru defected. For a while, you found happiness in your bond with him and Shoko. Sitting outside on your balcony with a cigarette between your lips. The city lights shining below with the snowfall.

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One day, on your first mission as a first grade, you messed up. Your illusions broke, letting a curse run rampant in a town near the forest it was in. With your cursed weapons you tried to defeat it while also helping the civilians nearby go to safety. A child fell in the middle of it, giving the curse a moment to strike. Without a moments doubt you ran them, your instinct screaming to protect the child, causing the curse injured you badly. Satoru had made it in time, killing the curse like nothing and getting you to Shoko in time. The injury plunged you into a deep coma for two weeks, where vivid dreams and fleeting memories danced at the edge of your consciousness, leaving Satoru and Shoko in a constant state of worry and vigil by your bedside. When you finally did wake up, they rushed to your room.

“A weakling like you needs to stop acting like a hero.” Satoru harshly says this, sitting on the chair next to your bed. He was tired of the circumstances and did not express his worry for you in the best way. Shoko frowned at his harsh words while she rewrapped the bandages on your forehead, checking over your injuries.

“You just think I’m useless, huh?” You asked, your tone equally harsh at him. “At least I’m trying, not everyone is born perfect.”

He scoffed at that; even with his bandages over his eyes you could tell he rolled them. His irritation with you is clear. Shoko sighed as she wrapped your head gently, sensing the tension between the two of you.

"Enough," she said firmly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated further. After a brief glance at her, Satoru turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. Your eyes harden instead, and you look away from him with pursed lips. Shoko finished up changing your bandages, standing before you still with her hands on her hips. Staying stubborn, you didn't talk to either of them, pouting your lip out like a kid.

"Look. All I'm trying to say is you need to be careful." He clarified, choosing his words more thoughtfully this time. Shoko exchanged a knowing look with Satoru before turning back to you.

"We care about you, that's all," she added gently, hoping to break through your stubborn facade.

"Well, I'm fine." You curtly responded, frustrated at the outcomes of the mission and how weak you felt. “Still alive, didn’t die.”

Shoko sighed, patting your shoulder, and turned to leave. Knowing you needed a little space and she needed a smoke break.

"I… I didn't mean to be so harsh. I just got worried." Satoru said quietly, reaching his hand out to take yours, the two of you alone. You hesitated for a moment before squeezing his hand in reassurance, appreciating the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I know, I'm sorry too," you replied softly, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you finally let your guard down. "Just tired, Toru."

"Well, what did you always use to say? Suck it up? You'll be fine." Satoru attempted to lighten the mood with that. This only made your mood dampen; not that he noticed, rubbing your hands thoughtfully, he stood up.

"Try to get some rest. The higher ups will throw us back into the fire before you know it. You’ll do better, I'm sure."

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The next time you saw him was a couple of months later, over drinks after work. Shoko managed to convince him to come with another friend of ours, Utahime. While those two caught up, you and Satoru talked a bit. You both sat at the bar, drinks in hand. Satoru sipped his virgin drink, eyeing you next to him.

"You’ve been doing good." He smiled, nudging you with his elbow. "That last mission was butter for you, I hear; you're getting stronger."

You nodded numbly, sipping on your own drink, the alcohol buzzing on your tongue. The mood was darker than usual as you thought about the risks and sacrifices that came with each successful mission. While Satoru's praise was appreciated, it also reminded you of the toll this line of work was taking on your mental and emotional well-being.

"Not like it means shit." You muttered, not looking at him. "Curses sprout like weeds, and sorcerers die like flies. It's a never-ending cycle."

His smile faltered as he glanced at you with concern, his blue eyes peering over his sunglasses. You could see the worry etched in his expression, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor. Saying nothing more, you took out a cigarette, lit it, and puffed out some smoke. You could feel his gaze linger on you, silently pleading for you to open up about the toll the job was taking on you. But you remained silent, lost in your own thoughts, as you took another drag from your cigarette.

"Thought you hated those?" He broke the silence, swiping the cigarette from your lips and putting it out on the ashtray next to you. Turning to him, your eyes glare at him. Now he could see the bags under your eyes and the dullness of your once bright eyes.

"Sometimes it's the only thing that helps me relax," you muttered, avoiding his concerned gaze. "I just can't seem to shake this feeling of exhaustion lately." He reached out and gently squeezed your hand, offering silent support as you finally opened up about the toll the job was taking on you.

"Do you ever… feel overwhelmed all the time?" You ask, hand shaking a bit. Tears well up in your eyes at your confession. After years of bottling up your feelings, they are coming out. "Our comrades die every day with people in charge who don’t risk a thing. Replacing us is so easy, like defective machines."

"What we do is hard." He agreed, thinking over his words. "It's not for everyone, that's for sure. Maybe you should rethink your priorities and consider if this is still the right path for you." The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, causing you to pause and reflect on your next steps.

"You think I'm weak." You say with a frown, tapping the counter at the bartender and asking for another. Satoru winces at that, his brows furrowed. He shakes his head.

"No, not weak. Just maybe not cut out for this kind of life."

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words sink in as you contemplate your future. The bartender slides you your next drink, and you quickly knock it back, the alcohol burning down your throat. The burn feels like a release, numbing the doubts and fears that swirl in your mind for a moment. Satoru watches you closely, his expression softening with understanding.

"I'll catch you later, Satoru. I should head home. Happy holidays."

Satoru nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Take care of yourself," he says softly before you turn to leave, the sound of his voice lingering in your mind as you step out into the cold winter night to begin the walk home.

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Now in bed, you lay in thought, tired but unable to sleep. Mind racing with thoughts—ones that give you no comfort in the night. The whirl of the wind is shaking your windows. The pleasant snow from earlier picked up a bit, causing snow to pile up now. Sitting up, you decide there is no better time than now, an eerie calmness over you.

As you move around your apartment, you double-check that everything is in order. Most of your belongings are still packed away. You leave your clean and empty apartment with a note for each of your loved ones, your beloved bracelet left next to it.

Going into the snow you venture to a bridge nearby with a raging river below. It was one you always walked to when you needed to think. A safe space where few ventured. Standing at the railing you lean against it, the wind is bellowing around you. Snow falls gently from the sky for a moment, creating a serene atmosphere. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and finally let yourself feel the weight of everything that has happened. Thinking of the loneliness and pain, the last few years have given you despite doing your best each day. You step onto the railing, balancing on the edge as you feel at peace. The sound of the rushing water below is calming, almost hypnotic. Opening your eyes you see snow around you, your breath fanning out in a white fog. As you close your eyes again and take one last deep breath, you feel the decision has been made.

YIKES Yeahhh like I said,,,,,Got dark homies.

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #cw sui implied #dark thoughts #jjk drabbles #cw dark content #no comfort #pain #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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pinkandpurple360 · 5 months

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I just wanted to say THANK YOU for being one of the few people who are normal about Blitzø! Everybody either overly demonises him or infantilises him and it’s so annoying.

Most of the Stolitz crowd either twists every mistake Stolas makes to somehow be Blitzø’s fault or they act like Blitzø is just a sad uwu boy that can’t accept Stolas’ love because he’s too insecure to see how Stolas really feels about him.

And a lot of the VivziePop critical crowd overly focuses on Blitzø’s flaws and mistakes, which is fair (I admit Blitzø has done some fucked up shit and I like seeing the show hold him accountable for it), but sometimes it seems like people give the worst possible interpretation of him and miss the nuance of his character.

It’s frustrating too because there are good criticisms you can have about Blitzø, but the annoying part is that most of that good critique of him lies in his relationships with people who AREN’T Stolas (M&M, Loona, Fizz, Verosika) and yet Blitz gets dragged through the mud by the show, fans and critics alike for his treatment of STOLAS of all people?? I’m a huge fan of Blitzø and I CRAVE good criticisms of him and I wish the show would actually focus on developing its main character.

Not sure if this is makes sense (I’m sick rn and my brain is not fully functioning lol) but I wanted to thank you for your posts!

No problem at all!! After seeing him with Loona and Fizz my opinions have changed a lot and I realise I’ve been too hard on him myself

Honestly stolas just isn’t a fair look at who blitz is. Can you really blame him for wanting out of a forced relationship. Six episodes this was non consensual and an unhealthy sh blitz was clinging to out of loneliness, suddenly becoming romanticised in season two. Stolas is a client at best, and at most an investor who gets far too involved and far too clingy and creepy.

The people who absolutely obliterate blitz for crimes such as not….liking a cigarette being put out on his head…or choosing his daughters healthcare over saving stolas, when he didn’t feel in danger at first. They’re just trying to convince themselves stolas isn’t a bad person, and are trying to force a ship, even if it destroys a character, a show, an entire cast of characters even.

The real time to go into blitzø is with IMP, fizz, verosika, other imps, hellhounds (who he actually treats as equals unlike a lot of other imps like even Millie). His hero complex is arguably his kindest trait that people admire him for, but also a big flaw when they start to feel indebted, or when they don’t want his rescue, like Loona wanting to have her own life once she turned 18, and Barbie wanting to keep her one good job.

Barbies scene was brief but it told us a lot. first off, how both twins prefer to be the boss with underlings of their own, possibly having a competitive rivalry. She does speak to him at first, and gives him a chance when he says how worried he is, explaining that she has honest work, that she’s fine, but needs to get away from her clingy brother. but Blitz keeps poking holes in the job, and just lets Moxxie try to kill the target, sabotaging Barbies job and that’s what makes her so mad. I have a feeling she actually doesn’t blame him for the fire, but it still really traumatised that they were ok for some time, but he kept doing shit like this. He possibly just abandoned the old showbiz job and got labelled a deadbeat. Then he kept visiting constantly, maybe every time he got upset, like he does with Loona.

#helluva boss critical

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hrefna-the-raven · 11 months

Text

Tome of Fate

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: This is basically an AU story about Loki, prince of Jotunheim, and the reader, princess of Asgard, meeting in the Utgardhall's library.

Odin finally reveals the real reason for bringing you to Jotunheim.

Words: 1125

Neither Loki nor you noticed time pass until one of the palace servants came to inform both of you that dinner was being served. Despite being tall and as fearsome as a frost giant could be, you couldn't help but secretly smile at how shy the servant was when she guided you to the smaller dining room.

“The prince and the princess are here, my King”, she announced, bowing respectfully before she left, closing the door behind her.

“Princess, I see you found my son”, Laufey spoke gently, his hand motioning you to sit down at the table, “I hope he hasn't caused you too much trouble, he can be a little...”, he paused for a moment while a fond smile spread across his face, “mischievous.”

“Father”, Loki mumbled, rolling his eyes, sitting down.

You were about to answer but Odin and cut you off before even a sound could leave your lips.

“I could ask your son the same, given how my daughter behaves some times at home.”

“I can assure you, Allfather, that your daughter has been most kind to me”, Loki replied, his gaze darting to you, the corners of his mouth forming a content smile as he raised his glass to you, “we enjoyed our time at the library as I recounted the legends of our kind while she illustrated them most beautifully using her seidr.”

Loki chuckled quietly as he drank his wine, noticing your cheeks turning red. He barely knew you but there has been this unspoken connection between the two of you, he felt calm around you and, contrary to him being around his fellow Jotun, he didn't feel the urge to hide his true self as you didn't even seem to care that he wasn't Aesir, you simply treated him equally, without wasting a thought on the fact that Jotun could be different in any way.

“Ah yes, seidr”, Laufey spoke, interrupting Loki's trail of thoughts and bringing his mind back to the conversation, “you might not know but my son is rather gifted as well, but as you can imagine”, the king turned towards you, “no one in Jotunheim would be nearly as perfect to teach him properly.”

“As whom”, both you and Loki queried at the same time, your brows furrowing as you were both apprehensive of the answer you'd get.

“King Laufey and I decided that you will stay here and teach the prince how to properly wield his powers”, Odin proclaimed, “at least during few weeks of summer in Jotunheim”, he quickly added while he spotted a hint of fear in your eyes.

This revelation rendered you speechless as you continued to stare at your father in shock. Whereas you didn't object to the idea of spending more time with Loki, you couldn't help but wonder he didn't deem it important enough to notify you about this before you accompanied him here. Your stomach twisted a sudden rush of anger and anxiety, the discomfort of it rendering you nauseous.

“Does mother know about this?”, you almost whispered solely to earn a hearty chuckle from Odin.

“Do you really think I would dare to take such decision without your dear mother's consent?”, he winked and gave you a genuine smile which, despite your anger, you returned.

Loki poked at his food, his crimson eyes glued to the piece of potato he kept pushing around on his plate as he carefully listened to the conversation. He couldn't help but to feel a slight sting in his heart at your polite attempt of protest. He knew the feeling of not belonging into this frozen realm despite being born here so he could definitely to your demur but the prospect of having you here felt like a faint beam of light piercing the gloomy mist of his loneliness. He'd not only have someone to keep him company but that someone would also be you, the kind princess who already brightened his usually dull afternoon. He felt reassured at the thought of spending the rest of the summer with you. He envisioned it to be like one of his silly dreams finally coming true, having somebody to spend time with without the constant necessity to keep up this exhausting facade of the coarse battle hungry warrior that was usually required when his friends took him to the tavern. Unfortunately, amidst the blooming hope in his chest, he was well aware how you might feel about all this. You might have enjoyed the afternoon with him but you most certainly weren't prepared to be left here for the coming month and without glimpsing up, he could almost sense your anxiety radiating from across the table.

Loki got up in a swift and sudden movement, the noise of the big wooden chair legs dragging on the rough stone floor and the clinking sound of his fork falling down on the plate, pulled everyone's immediate attention to him. He leaned forward, his tall Jotun frame towering almost menacingly over his half of the table. His ruby eyes gazed gently at you, his stare slowly piercing the depths of your soul as his right hand moved towards you and with a snip of his fingers, pale blue mist appeared, forming an icy flower, floating in your direction. As you curiously wrapped your fingers around it, your mouth formed a quiet oh, astonished at the realisation that the ice flower didn't feel cold and you held it up towards the light of the chandelier, admiring it's beauty.

“My princess”, Loki spoke in a soft voice, “I know how frightening the prospect of being all alone here might be but rest assured that I will try my best to make you feel at home and I promise to be a good pupil.”

You looked up at him, with a curious and almost mischievous glint in your eye. Despite your fear, you couldn't help but admire Loki's eagerness to make you feel welcome. The anxiety made you hesitant but it couldn't push away the pull you felt towards the handsome prince, a connection you never experienced with anyone else. Your fingers let go of the ice flower, an emerald mist enwrapping and transforming it into a real flower and with a gentle push of your hand, it glided towards Loki. As soon as his fingertips grazed the bud, it bloomed into a delicate pale blue flower. The flower then dissolved into countless small golden particles, disappearing into the air. It was your silent promise to accept his offer. Despite not knowing what your time in Jotunheim would hold, you were grateful that you would be spending it with someone you felt a strong connection to.

Yes, I trapped myself into writing another series xD so here you go:

Chapter 3

#loki marvel #loki #jotun loki #jotun form #loki x reader #loki x female reader #jotun loki x reader #jotun loki x female reader #jotunheim #odin #laufey #fluff #seidr #a promise #blooming friendship

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veliseraptor · 7 months

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Headcanon ask - Song Lan and touch aversion? (Specifically, if you want, how this might interact with Xue Yang and being used to being seen as dirty)

oooh yes. I don't think there's necessarily something that "made" Song Lan touch-averse (and I do like touch-averse specifically, not just generally mysophobic though that's probably at least part of the problem and also true); it adds in a fun way to the perception of him as cold and aloof and gives me fun and spicy opportunities for my headcanons about his relationship with Xiao Xingchen.

but yeah, not just about the germs/feeling of uncleanliness, but also just the specific feeling of skin-touch is hard. not impossible, and he'll make exceptions particularly when it feels important, and clothes make a big difference (much easier to touch someone's clothed arm than their hand, for instance). I think it's always been true for him, though it took a while to articulate, and growing up in a temple that I don't think was particularly physically affectionate (affectionate in other ways!) shielded him from it really being an issue for a while.

but it is also fun to think about the way that Song Lan's air of untouchability (figurative) is partly a cultivated way of (literally) making himself untouchable, so that people will not cross his boundaries in that way, but that also results in the aforementioned cold-and-aloof relationship that, paired with the fact that I think Song Lan is just generally not all that good with people/very inclined to be social, gives him a reputation for...not hostility, because he's too righteous to be hostile, but definitely not warmth. and this is in direct contrast to Xiao Xingchen who ends up with an aura of untouchability entirely against his own will and he would really like to be touched. but in both instances it results in a certain loneliness and isolation from others.

and then how that plays with Xue Yang...the intensity of Xue Yang's reaction to Song Lan's reaction to being touched (which, admittedly, is pretty harsh; I don't think it was really thought through, though, necessarily) has always been interesting to me. like, yes, Xue Yang takes things personally, he offends easily and reacts to that offense with extreme measures, but the sheer immediate loathing he expresses toward Song Lan specifically for his reaction, even after Jin Guangyao explains it's not about him specifically...

Xue Yang has a history of being perceived as, yes, dirty, subhuman, beastly, and I think that bothers him more than he'd want to admit to anyone. the implication of "Song Zichen is mysophobic and that's why he lashed out when you touched him" doesn't read to him as "this is a general issue with touch and not about you specifically"; it reads as "this guy thinks you're dirty and can contaminate him with it just by touching him" and that sets off a big blaring angry alarm in Xue Yang's brain.

I think there's also something there about...an awareness that the perception of him as dirty/low is something that makes him acutely vulnerable and therefore something he's particularly sensitive to. somewhere in the back of Xue Yang's mind it's a precursor to being targeted in a more dangerous way and he's going to get out ahead of it.

it's something about Xiao Xingchen's condemnation of him as "disgusting" that finally triggers Xue Yang's nuclear bomb detonation in their last conversation, and I don't think that's incidental, in the same way that it's Song Lan's response to being touched by Xue Yang that specifically and directly sparks Xue Yang's anger at him (as opposed to Xiao Xingchen). I went back to look at the text and it is indeed Song Lan specifically who Xue Yang threatens in the Villainous Friends extra, though he expresses contempt and dislike for them both, to be sure:

"I find such fake, conceited people to be the absolute most disgusting. That Xiao Xingchen clearly wasn't much older than me, but still poking his nose into other people's business - annoying. And then he started lecturing me. And that Song one." He sneered. "I only brushed his arm, so what was with that look he gave me? Sooner or later, I'll dig out his eyes and shatter his heart. Let's see what he'll do once that happens." (trans. Exiled Rebels, emphasis mine)

it's only after his arrest that Xiao Xingchen himself becomes a target of Xue Yang's rage.

Song Lan didn't mean to press a berserk button when he lashed out at Xue Yang; I think it honestly is something where he would react, if not the same exactly, with the same discomfort and unhappiness to anybody touching him, often including Xiao Xingchen.

#conversating #woobifiedvillain #song lan #xue yang #the sad queer cultivators show #aggressively headcanons

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bakubaji · 9 months

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threadfic miya twins character study / sakuatsu 6.7k

miya twins angst, hurt/comfort, loneliness, learning about self worth, skts but mostly a miya twin focus

There’s this thing in most SakuAtsu fics that always gets me, but I never feel like it’s gone into enough, and it’s when there’s a fight/miscommunication between the Miya twins. There’s always some angst and then they get into a fist fight and all is well. But 9 times out of 10 what happens is, it seems like Tsumu is being a whiny brat over something small, he brings it up, they fight, and they settle it like ‘Yep, Tsumu’s just dramatic’, and it always feels like the whole thing boils down to Tsumu being unable to move on, Samu being more mature, and Tsumu ends up kind of being comedic relief for getting so worked up. (Also, half the time, it’s Tsumu being worked up because Samu tells everyone something or whatever, and in the end Suna and Samu are like ‘You’re being a brat lol’ and that’s that). And, without fail, it drives me CRAZY bc it always feels like it never addresses the root issue, so it never feels resolved to me.

PSA: I’m not saying this as like, "These are real people- how dare you ignore their feelings!!" but more like, "You're setting up this character with really valid emotions and reactions, and then failing to carry them through and it falls flat. So, here are my thoughts:

The reason Tsumu gets so worked up when it comes to Samu is because Samu is his Most Important Person. Nothing & no one has ever been, or will ever be, more important to him, and he is fully shameless about it.

It's so obvious, even when they bicker. But Samu, from an outside perspective, but also from people who know him, sees Tsumu as his twin, his brother, but not necessarily his Most Important Person or Thing.

Maybe he was when they were younger, but as they grew up, he sort of moved on. Found other things more important and whatever. This is usually where the issue happens: many fics will see the moving on as part of maturing and "resolve" the issue by implying that the solution is that Atsumu needs to move on, and then Omi comes in, etc., etc., everything's good! But that never seems right to me.

I need Samu to be confronted about the fact that Tsumu has always loved him before anything, has always put him first, and yet he, time after time, doesn't do the same.

He tells Suna about quitting volleyball first, he sees Suna more than he sees Tsumu, he doesn't tell him they're dating. And he and Suna- who's known them for a long, long time, who knows how Tsumu is- will regularly poke fun at Tsumu for being dramatic, whiny, overly sensitive, and it hurts Tsumu to know that the two people he's known the longest- including the one person who's supposed to be his other half, who's supposed to always be by his side and always have his back- never try to understand him.

They never seem to care about him as much as they care about each other. And worse than that, they make him feel like something's wrong with him for caring about them the way he does. Like he's too much, too immature, too clingy, and they tease and mock and belittle, knowing exactly where Atsumu's most vulnerable. Crossing all the lines of ‘too far’ and then, instead of apologizing, they laugh it off and tell him to grow up.

And everyone seems to agree.

Just once, JUST ONCE, I want Atsumu to have enough.

I want him to realize that he doesn't deserve that. That nothing's wrong with the way he loves, and the way he needs love.

I want an Atsumu who realizes he's giving himself up over and over just to be ridiculed.

And sure, Samu checks on him when he's sick, and Suna invites him to drink after they play against each other, and eventually they even ask Tsumu to officiate their wedding so they don't have to fight over him, but that's not what Tsumu wanted.

Tsumu wanted to be Samu's best man, the way they'd always planned since they first found out what marriage was. And if, or when, Tsumu ever got married, he'd ask Samu to be his. But it was supposed to go both ways. And Samu was supposed to call when good things happened too (like Suna asking him on a first date, or the loan for the restaurant being approved), or even bad things, not just out of a sense of obligation to make sure Tsumu was okay. And Suna was supposed to invite Tsumu out whenever he was nearby, the way Tsumu did, not just drop a time and place as their teams lined up to shake hands.

Tsumu is always treated like the Least Important Person, and eventually he has to recognize it's not good, it's not fair or healthy or right, and he owes it to himself to stop, because losing his Most Important Person is less painful than what he has right now (at least he hopes). So he starts treating Samu and Suna the way they treat him.

He answers calls (most of the time) but rarely calls first.

He doesn't send pictures of things that remind him of them anymore.

He doesn't send "I miss you" or "Love you" anymore, because they always laugh and brush him off.

He visits the restaurant if the team is in town, but he stops taking the train over on weekends just to say hi

When something big happens, he goes home alone and puts his head between his knees and breathes, because he ‘won't call Samu.’ He won't. Because Samu wouldn't. And it's hard. God, it's so, so hard, and it hurts more than he'd thought. They'd say he was being dramatic, they'd tell him to grow up, get over it. But the way neither of them even seem to notice makes him realize it was the right thing to do.

It's also hard because now Tsumu struggles a bit (a lot) to let people in. Maybe it's not that deep, maybe it's not that big a deal, but if his twin thought he was too much, didn't even care all that much about him in the end, despite the fact that Tsumu would do anything in the world for him, then who the hell would do otherwise? His twin brother and their oldest friend didn't stick around, so Tsumu doesn't really believe anyone actually will.

He becomes closer with his teammates, slowly: Bokuto loves a lot like him- giving all of himself to everyone he cares for- and even with a boyfriend, he still makes so much time for Atsumu, still meets him where he's at, treats him how Tsumu always wanted someone to. Shoyo and Omi become good friends too, through trial and error. Shouyou is easier: Tsumu knows not to expect the same kind of attentiveness from him- he's kind of flighty and distractible, which isn't bad at all. He's so genuine and good regardless.

Omi takes longer, given their sort of warring personalities, but in the end he sees Atsumu as he is, and never asks him to change. He never asks more (or less) from him. Never makes Tsumu feel like he's wrong. In his own ways, Omi pours himself into their friendship wholeheartedly, and the same way he recognizes Atsumu's ways of showing it, Tsumu sees that Omi is doing the same. For once, Tsumu doesn't feel like his care is unwanted.

But even so, new friends (or maybe more?) can only do so much. It's harder and harder to admit it now that he's proven to himself that he wasn't the one in the wrong, but he misses his brother, misses his oldest friend, and he knows they don't miss him. And it's embarrassing, it's shameful, to know that, despite everything, he would still do anything for them because that's just who he is, who he's always been. No matter what, Samu will still be his Most Important Person, and Tsumu can't do anything about it.

They still see each other, sometimes, and Tsumu breathes in each moment like he's been starved for air. He tries not to let it show, just how much he misses them, how happy he is to see them, even if it's not the same. Hell, they're probably happier to see him now than ever before, mentioning how much he's grown up lately, how much better he's doing now that he's not so dependent on them, on Samu. And it hurts infinitely more to hear, to know that they prefer this censored version of him to the real one. The one who was unashamed of how much he loved them, how much they meant to him.

It takes a while for him to heal from that, actually. His new friends help. Omi helps a lot. Bo helps the most- he's the first person Tsumu ever tells about it all, and he's the only one who he trusts to understand. Even then, there's no one who can really share the feeling. Even Bokuto can only speak about friends, his two sisters much older. It's different from a twin, and he knows that. So, to an extent, he has to go it alone.

That's the worst part. Tsumu always believed that being born a twin meant you were never supposed to be alone, not truly. How could you be born part of a perfect matching set only to end up on your own? It felt wrong, it always had. That was why Samu had always been the world to him. For Tsumu, being Samu's brother was as intrinsically part of him as his hands, his eyes, his legs; there was no way to remove that part of himself, not without far too much pain. So he remained Samu's brother, even if it was only in his heart, buried deep so it couldn't be used against him. It was a secret treasure just for him, one that hurt to hold onto, but would hurt much more to lose.

Everything kind of goes to shit eventually, when after a year or two, Omi proposes after they win the Olympics. It was on international television. It made headlines. The sports channel and gossip rags were talking about the same thing for once.

And then Osamu called.

Tsumu almost didn't answer.

He was so happy and he wanted to share it with Samu, but he wanted to hoard it to himself more. But Omi left him alone with a look that said 'answer it,' so he did.

It was silent on the line when he answered, and Tsumu didn't say anything to break it. It was Samu who spoke first.

"Yer gettin' married?"

It took a moment to respond. Samu's voice took him by surprise, how quiet and shaky it was. "Yeah," he said. "Eventually."

"I didn't know the two of ya were together."

Tsumu could've laughed at the irony of it if it didn't sting to hear.

"Never came up, I guess."

"I- Yeah. Guess not. Not much does, these days, it seems."

Atsumu pressed a hand to his mouth and stared at the door Omi had left through, pushing down the urge to scream or maybe cry. It had been two or so years since he'd left, and Samu had never even noticed the difference until now.

"What happened?" Samu asked, voice shaking that way it did when he refused to cry. "What happened to us, Tsumu?"

Atsumu took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. "Samu, if you don't know, it's not gonna matter."

He wasn't trying to be obtuse. He didn't want to guilt Samu into anything. But if Samu couldn't tell that he'd caused this, that he'd always been the one to push that distance further and further... If he couldn't see that much, Tsumu didn't know if he could fix it.

He couldn't do it on his own. He couldn't put himself through that again, not after he'd put this much work in to help himself.

"I don't- I don't know. I don't know why ya wouldn't tell me. I thought we told each other things like this."

Tsumu's laugh was harsh. "Ya can't be serious."

"What’d'ya mean? I'm dead serious, Tsumu."

"After Suna? Ya think ya have any right to say that?"

"What-I- that was different, Tsum. Ya found out eventually, and not because I got proposed to on live television."

"'Cause it was so much better walkin' in on the two of ya fuckin' after ya told me ya couldn't come visit 'cause ya got caught up at work!"

"And I told ya I was sorry! I didn't think ya were gonna come over, ya lived two cities away!"

"And I wanted to see ya!" Atsumu yelled. "I wanted to see my brother, was that so bad?!"

Of course that wouldn't have occurred to Samu, Tsumu thought, because he wouldn't have done the same. Samu only came when Tsumu invited him. At the very least he'd call ahead. He never surprised him. He didn't go out of his way because he wanted to see Tsumu.

"It doesn't matter," Atsumu said, sucking in a deep breath. "I already told ya. Look I- I don't wanna do this. At all. Right now. I just- I just got engaged, Samu. I just won the Olympics. You've had forever to do this, why'd'ya hafta do it now?"

Samu was silent for a long time. "Is it so bad? Did I do somethin' so bad to ya?"

"Samu, please, not- not now."

"Ya can't even tell me? I'm your brother, Tsumu, we can't just-"

"Brothers?” Atsumu laughed. It came out like a sob. "Samu, when was the last time you acted like a brother to me?"

"I- what?"

"Samu, when- God, I don't wanna do this right now. Fuck." He wished he could go back just five minutes and not answer the call. Hold onto Omi instead.

"Do ya even know when I realized ya were tearin' me apart?" Atsumu asked, throwing an arm over his face. "It's been two years now, and ya just now noticed. You and Rin just- the two of ya- ya don't even know how much ya hurt me. Ya didn't even care."

"H-hurt ya? Tsumu, what're ya talkin' about? What's Rin gotta do with this?"

"Look, I don't- I just- do we hafta do this now?"

"Yes we hafta do it now!" Samu spit. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"God, I just- fuck, Samu, I couldn't stand it anymore! You know I love ya more than anythin'. Do you know how it was for me? Always 'Tsumu's too much', 'Tsumu's being dramatic', 'Tsumu's too clingy'. I just cared about ya! But it was too much for ya. Both of ya. I thought, for so long, that somethin' was wrong with me. I thought 'even my own brother thinks it's too much, the way I love people'. Do you know how long it took for me to realize it was okay? That there wasn't somethin' wrong with me?

"Everythin' I did, everythin' I am was too much for ya. Too much for Rin. And ya couldn't even just- just pretend, or even tolerate it. Ya made- ya made me feel so bad. All the time. And ya never once- never made me feel like ya gave a shit about me.

"Yer my twin, that- to me, that means everythin', Samu. It means everythin' to me. You mean everythin' to me, and it- it hurts so bad, knowin' ya don't care, knowing I'm not the person you wanna tell things to, the person that ya rely on. God, to you I'm just- what? A burden? Just the person ya ended up stuck with? Did ya ever want me around or was I just there?

"‘Cause I always wanted you around. I wanna tell ya everythin', good or bad, big or small. Yer the one I've always- always relied on. I always told ya everythin'. And ya know what you did? Ya went and told Rin. Anythin' I told ya, secret or not, ya went and told Rin. And when you had somethin' to share, who did ya go to? Rin. Always Rin, never me. "Ya never cared that some things I only wanted you to know. Ya never cared that I wanted to be there to cheer you on or support ya. Ya never- I was never important to ya, not like you are to me. And that's- there's nothin' I can do about that, but I couldn't keep puttin' myself through it. So ya don't get to call after all this time and say I owe ya anythin' because we're 'brothers’. Ya lost that right, Samu."

Tsumu broke off, only vaguely realizing he'd ended up yelling. He was breathing heavy, eyes stinging, throat tight. This wasn't how he'd wanted his night to go. He should've been spending time with Omi, thinking about a ring since Omi had proposed with a medal.

He could hear Samu breathing over the phone, ragged and uneven, hitching with nearly silent sobs.

"D'ya see, Samu?" Atsumu whispered. "It's not- I can't fix this. I spent- I spent so long chasin' you. So long pretendin'. I won't do that to myself again, Samu. It hurt too much."

"I didn't-" Samu sounded broken. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to-"

"I know," Tsumu interrupted. "I know ya didn't, but that doesn't mean anythin' to me. I never wanted ya to treat me one way out of pity or guilt. I wanted it because yer my brother, and if ya- if ya cared about me like how I care about you, it wouldn't... It doesn't matter now.

"Look, Samu... I'm not mad at ya. Not anymore. And I still love ya more than anythin', that'll never change. But I got engaged tonight. I won the Olympics. And I don't wanna hurt right now. I just wanna be happy for a night, Samu. Can I have that much from ya, at least?"

Tsumu waited until Samu choked out a fragile ‘yes’, and then hung up and tossed his phone away. That was not what he'd envisioned for tonight. He felt simultaneously drained and like he might burst at the seams.

It took a while for Omi to come back, but when he did, he found Tsumu with his head between his knees, breathless and shaking as he cried.

Omi didn't ask him about anything, he just wrapped him up in his arms and told him he'd done well, and he was proud of him. It didn't ease the pain, but it helped some.

It helped because, even after everything, it was hard for Tsumu to not feel like he'd overreacted.

In his mind, Samu was talking with Suna right now, complaining about how Tsumu always did this, blew up for no reason just to make a fuss. Even after all this time, Atsumu wondered if he was the one in the wrong, the one making a big deal out of nothing, causing Samu problems again.

But Omi was there, holding him, reminding him with his words and his presence that it wasn't Atsumu's fault. That he hadn't done anything wrong by setting his boundaries, by recognizing what his love was worth.

They didn't celebrate that night, or even the next, but eventually they did, and Atsumu was happy even if he'd always pictured that his brother would be there for a moment like this.

Omi asked at one point when Tsumu would want the wedding, but Atsumu just fell silent and Omi understood. Nothing was going to happen yet. Tsumu has given up enough, but he couldn't... he couldn't give that up too. He may not have been Samu's best man, but he still wanted Samu to be his. and that couldn't happen right now, so he couldn't even begin to think about the rest of it. But Omi understood, and he was patient.

Time passed, as it was wont to do, and Tsumu settled again— or at least he would have, but Samu and Suna were acting... weird. It wasn't really anything obvious at first, especially since neither of them ever brought up the phone call, but...

First was Tsumu's mom, who mentioned on their weekly call that Samu had been bothering her like crazy, asking about their high school days and what she remembered about the three of them. Then Kita texted saying ‘Do you know if Osamu is in therapy? it may be a good idea.’ Which in Kita speak meant ‘Your brother's acting weird as fuck, tell him to leave me alone and bother someone who's paid to put up with him.’ Then Samu texted, saying he was going to be in town for a weekend. He'd be really busy, so he was getting a hotel room so he wouldn't disturb Tsumu with his comings and goings, but he had a potential opportunity to open up a new branch and he had to check things out.

“Could we meet?” he'd asked, and Tsumu stared at his phone for a long time, because they'd never been the kind of people who had to ask about things like that. “‘course,” he'd texted, biting his lip. “Lmk when you have time, we'll go out to eat.”

Then Suna called out of the blue after a game that Tsumu had watched on the TV in the living room. "Rin?" Tsumu answered, turning the volume down even though he liked watching post-game commentary. "Ya okay?"

"Did ya watch the game?" Suna asked, no greeting or anything.

"Yeah, just had it on. T'was good."

"It was ratshit," Suna grunted. "They got through half my blocks no problem, and shut me out more than not." Atsumu blinked at the TV screen, playing highlight reels of the game. The game Suna had just called him out of the blue to talk about.

"Wasn't yer best," he admitted slowly, Suna could be a bit prickly about his abilities when he didn't do well. "But ya knew goin' in yer usual tricks wouldn't be the most effective with them. An ace like that is hard to stop, and he happens to be built like a tank. Ya had a lot of good receives in the back row, kept yer team goin'."

Suna hummed, and Tsumu could hear the weary disappointment. "I guess. I just wanted to do better."

"I know ya did." Because Suna always did. Tsumu wondered if maybe Suna had meant to call Samu instead? "But what's done is done, no use workin' yerself up about it. Practice harder, so they can't shut ya out next time."

"I know. I know, yer right, I'm just..."

"I know. You should have Samu make ya some hirata buns. Ya always liked those when we lost."

Suna was quiet for a moment. "Yers are better than yer brother's," he finally grumbled, and Tsumu's cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise. "But yeah. Thanks, Tsum. I gotta go, coach wants to debrief. Thanks for pickin' up.”

Atsumu stared at his phone for a long time after the call ended.

Weird things like that kept happening. Tsumu came home to Omi unboxing a package of individually wrapped onigiri from Samu's shop that he'd found waiting by the door when he got home. Suna kept sending him pictures of the stray cat that kept showing up behind their apartment. Kita texted again asking ‘How have you been, Atsumu?', which made Atsumu's lip start wobbling and Omi called him a crybaby. Even Bo asked him at practice if something had happened with Samu, because apparently Akaashi had gone in to eat and kept having to text Bo questions because Samu kept hounding him about Tsumu; how he was? Was he doing well in practice? Did he have good friends on the team? Was Omi good to him?

Eventually, Samu was in town, and they met up to eat at a Chinese hot pot place between Tsumu's home and Samu's hotel. It was their first time seeing each other in person since before the phone call, and Tsumu was nervous. He'd thought about inviting Omi with him, but Omi had straight up refused. "Call me if you need me," he'd said, with a voice that said he'd be there in a heartbeat, but he told Atsumu this was something he probably had to do on his own. And Samu hadn't brought Suna, which was rare even when Suna was in season, so Tsumu agreed to return the courtesy. Just them, then. Tsumu and Samu, Samu and Tsumu. What a ridiculous thing to be scared of.

In the end, though it was just the two of them, they got enough food for four. it was almost distracting enough to drown out the inescapable awkwardness between them. Almost.

Atsumu didn't want to bring anything up, not when they were having an almost normal meal again, so he let Samu guide the conversation.

Samu told him about the property he'd gone to visit here in the city, a small restaurant that had been a ramen shop before it shut down. Tsumu looked at the pictures he was shown and agreed that it looked like a good place, though Samu would need a refrigerated display. Samu told him that their ma was trying to grow radishes in her window boxes, and Tsumu laughed and pretended that was the first he'd heard of it. Samu explained, staring fixedly at the vegetables floating in the spicy broth, that Suna thought it was best he didn't come this time, so it didn't feel like the two of them were ganging up on Tsumu again when they apologized, and Tsumu-

Tsumu blinked.

"If we came to ya, both of us at once, wouldn't it still feel like it was us versus you?" Samu asked quietly. "I didn't- I didn't tell him everythin' you told me, I swear, but he's always been smarter than us, he put it together since... with everythin' you said the last time, I didn't wanna seem like we were just apologizin' to get over it, ya know? And we thought, maybe, showin' up together might not be the best way to show we heard ya and everythin'."

Tsumu blinked at Samu, who blinked at the sweet potato that bobbed to the surface of the boiling soup.

"Look, Tsumu," Samu said, "I don't know when... when I started treatin' ya so bad. I don't know, and I don't know how I never noticed, or how I never saw when you… when you had enough of it. I never wanted to push ya like that. I never wanted to hurt ya. I know it's too late to say stuff like that, and I know it doesn't really matter, not when it can't change anythin', but it's true. And I'm sorry we made it impossible for you to talk to us. I know you tried to, and we just- just laughed it off. That was... fuck. I'm sorry, Tsumu. I really, really am. And ya don't hafta forgive me for it, not now, or- or ever, if ya don't want to. What we did, what I did- it wasn't fair to you. And more than that, I never should've... yer my brother, Tsumu. I should've been there for ya, I should've been the one you could come to when ya felt like shit or wanted to cry about somethin'. I should've been the person you could tell about yer first day in the big leagues, or yer new friends, or, or gettin' engaged. And- and ya still told me about so much of it, even when I-" he broke off with a frustrated sound. Samu had never been good at talking.

"I betrayed yer trust in me," Samu forced out. "And did it over and over, even when ya kept givin' me more chances." Samu took a deep breath, and he finally looked up to meet Tsumu's eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't keep yer secrets. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you needed me to. I'm sorry I ever made ya feel like you were wrong for trustin' me, for believin' that you deserved someone to be there for ya. You do, Tsumu. You always did, and I'm sorry it wasn't me.

“Most of all," he took a deep breath and started again. "Most of all, I'm sorry I made ya feel like you weren't a brother to me.

"We've always been more different that people think, but I still should've met ya halfway instead of makin' you cover the distance alone every time. I should've known how you are and what you need, the way you always have for me. And Rin- I'm not gonna apologize for him, he'll do that himself, but you always took care of him too. The three of us... we should've all looked out for each other, but you took care of all of us, and Rin and I just- we just looked out for ourselves. I'm sorry, Tsumu. And ya don't hafta let me, but I wanna make it up to ya. I wanna be- I wanna be brothers again, how we used to be. And i'll do the work, i'll go the whole distance, i'll do whatever ya need. You won't be alone in it anymore, I promise ya.

"I just want my big brother back, Tsumu. I miss ya, and I can't do all this without ya."

Atsumu met Samu's gaze, shell shocked at the sudden apology, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then suddenly, they both sniffed and tore their eyes away-the kind of in sync move that used to get them "There it is! Twin telepathy!" when they were young.

"Fuck, now I'm cryin' into the soup," Samu grumbled under his breath, wiping at his face roughly with the back of his wrist. "Why'd we hafta do this right now?"

"Hah?! Yer the one who brought it up, what do you mean we?!" Tsumu cried out, wiping his own face with a handful of paper napkins. "This is yer fault, not mine!"

"It's not my fault I had to apologize!" Samu retorted on instinct, and both of them paused. Tsumu sent him a thoroughly unimpressed glare- as much of a glare as he could manage when his eyes wouldn't stop watering.

"Say that again, slowly," Tsumu invited. "Yeah, yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it," Samu grunted, face pink. "Are we gonna keep talkin' about it or can we eat?"

"Well for one, I don't think yer in a place to be makin' demands right now," Tsumu said with as haughty a sniffle as he could manage. “And for two, I get hungry when I cry so food now, talk later."

"I know ya do, that's why I asked in the first place," Samu grumbled, but he swiped a piece of Tsumu's lamb and swished it around in the mala broth, just how Tsumu liked it, before reaching across the table and dropping it in Tsumu's dipping sauce.

It was hardly anything really, but Tsumu stared at it for a while. there were some things, he supposed, that Samu had noticed about him. Had remembered through the years. It didn't absolve him of his wrongs, it didn't fix things, but... it was nice to know, anyway. Tsumu wondered if Samu thought of him when he went out to eat with Suna, the way Tsumu always did; scanning the menu briefly to figure out what his brother would order if he was there.

Did Samu think about him when the first fireflies of the season began to appear, the ones they used to chase around with a glass jar in late summer?

Did he think of him, like Tsumu did, when that song came on the radio- the one their ma would sing out loud while she cleaned the kitchen, Tsumu and Samu watching cartoons in the next room?

Did he think of him, sometimes, when he woke up and there wasn't someone there? A matching set that had climbed under the covers with him when the thunder got too loud?

Even after all this time, so much of Tsumu's world was built by Samu. the smell of fireworks and takoyaki during matsuris, the sailor moon theme song they performed for their grandparents when they were six, the scar on his big toe where Samu nearly bit it off as a baby.

It was impossible to go a day without thinking about him, even if he tried. Samu was ingrained in his very being, always had been. Was he the same to him, tattooed on his soul from start to finish?

They ate in relative silence: Samu bracing himself for what would come next, Tsumu trying. his best to just make sense of things. A long time ago he'd posted on one of those advice forums, hurt and confused and searching for answers. They had come, mostly in the form of "Family or not, a relationship like that is more harm than good. Cut ties, put yourself first!", and some half dozen variations just like it. Tsumu had gotten sick thinking about it. He hadn't deleted the post because it was against the forum rules to delete once people had answered, but he made sure to reply to everyone. ‘You don't know what you're talking about. He's my twin brother.’

Dinner was long, though not as long as it could have been if they'd talked, but Tsumu still didn't really know what to say as they left. He wanted to say something like "It's alright, I forgive you, let's go back to how we were before" but he honestly couldn't really remember- couldn't remember when "before" was. It was hard, actually, to remember the last time Samu hadn't... hadn't scared him, at least a little.

When Tsumu went running up to him with something to say, or when he found himself crying after a bad game, or when he wanted attention just because- he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't gone expecting a weary sigh, an eye roll, a derisive laugh.

So he couldn't say it was okay. But he had a chance to have his brother back, and even if it was a bad decision, even if it meant he was the vulnerable one once again... for Samu, he would do it. He would do it again, with his trust and his hope on full display.

But this time- this time, Samu needed to do it too. Belly up and helpless, knowing the costs of failure. Tsumu wouldn't be the only one, not this time.

"I'll let ya," he finally said, the two of them frozen under some streetlight, hands shoved in their pockets to protect them from showing too much. "You and Rin, if he wants to. I'll let ya make it up to me. I want ya to, Samu, and I mean that. I don't want- this isn't some power play, alright? I'm not tryin' to guilt trip you into doin' whatever I want until I decide yer forgiven. you know I'd do anythin' for ya, even now. So, don't do this ‘cause ya want somethin' from me. I want ya to do this because you miss me too. I want-" it was hard to ask for what he wanted. "I want ya to treat me well, Samu. I want ya to treat me like someone ya want to be around, someone ya actually- actually love. Not someone ya just got stuck with.”

He took a deep breath. "We've always been brothers because that's how we were born. But I choose to be yer brother every day, Samu. I don't regret it, and I'll do it every day until I die. But you have to make that choice now. You have to prove ya want this, that it- that we, that I, am worth that effort for ya. Got it? Because I've had enough of bein' an afterthought, and I- I know now that I deserve more. So I don't really want yer apologies, to be honest, though I appreciate it nonetheless. If ya wanna make it up to me, I want ya to show up for me. I want ya to care about the things I love, to listen to me when I talk, even if ya think it's just a nod along if I'm mad! I want to know that I can go to ya about anythin'. That ya won't judge me, won't laugh at me or put me down, and I'm not- I'm not askin' ya to treat me like a princess or anythin'. I can take a joke, but ya need to know where the line is. And it won't work if I hafta point it out to ya every time. You need to pay attention. You need to care enough that I don't hafta worry about whether or not I'm linin' up to be laughed at. Understand?"

The worry that he was asking too much, making a fuss over nothing, was still incessant in the back of his mind. But he thought about his friends, about Omi, about the way he'd always shown up for Samu and Suna. If it wasn't too much for them, why would it be too much for him?

It still felt dramatic, a bit excessive, but- Samu was nodding fiercely, a determined frown pulling at his lips. "I'll do it," he said, so sure of himself. "You've always done it for us, haven't ya? If you can do it, I can do it."

Tsumu blinked. Scowled. "This isn't a competition, ya scrub! Take it seriously!"

"I'm dead serious!" Samu huffed. "Besides, what have we ever taken more seriously than a competition? All I'm sayin' is, genetically or whatever, there's no reason you should be all good at something that I can't do. So, if you can do it, I can do it. I will. I'm serious, Tsumu. Not to get anythin', not to prove anythin', just- just because, alright? You deserve it, and I miss ya, and I wanna be- I wanna be someone you trust again. I wanna be good to ya."

And it was just words- it was just promises that might or might not be kept, but it was more than Atsumu had ever expected. He was terrified, sure, but this... this meant the world to him, and he was willing to take the risk.

"Alright, alright. Then, that's it then, yeah? We've aired our grievances-"

"You aired your grievances."

"All that's left is puttin' yer money where yer mouth is. And if this is a competition-"

"It is, at least a little bit."

"Then ya should know the stakes."

Atsumu leveled Samu with a steady look. "It better end in a tie. ‘Cause if I come out on top again, I'm not risking a third chance. If I'm the one giving everything again, I'm not going to give any more.”

"Loud and clear," Samu agreed with a nod.

"And if I win, ya never get to bring up me quittin' volleyball around ma ever again.'' It was such a stupid bet, but Tsumu knew better. Samu put the odds in his favor- everything he did would be for Tsumu's benefit, not his own. If he won, all he would gain was Atsumu.

The way he looked at him now, eyes still a little pink around the edges, shoulders tight in that way they got before a fight... that was enough. Atsumu, for once, would be enough.

"Deal," Tsumu finally said, offering an outstretched pinky. Samu locked it with his own, pressed their thumbs together. "Deal."

Things weren't fixed yet, not by a long shot, but for once, Atsumu felt like things might be okay. Maybe in a year, he could plan a wedding. Have his brother as his best man, and his best friend could wipe his ma's tears when she started crying too hard.

It was far away still, but if there was one thing Tsumu knew better than anything, it was his brother, and the look in Samu's eyes said I'll do whatever it takes. Tsumu knew that look because he wore it the same.

To be brothers again, I'll do whatever it takes.

For the first time in his life, Atsumu entered a competition hoping he would lose.

#bakubajific #haikyuu!!#threadfic #long post #miya twins #post timeskip #sunaosa #sakuatsu #hurt/comfort #loneliness #insecurity #fix it fic #sort of #family angst #setting boundaries and making amends #this is not an osamu and suna loving fic #but i do love them dearly #slaps fic: you can fit so many feelings in this bad boy #but most of them are sad

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