#Just a dash of angst

[entomolog-t]

The Shadow We Cast - 2

My last G/t July Prompt that will actually be done in July; Melancholy!

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Previous Chapter: Chapter 1

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Word count: 2460

CW: Adult language, mild gore (butchering food, mentions of blood), substances (beer)

My kitchen, thankfully, didn’t look as bad as I had expected in the aftermath of Sal’s butchering. Don’t get me wrong, it still looked like a scaled down horror scene, complete with the bowl filled with various innards and traces of little bloodied hand and foot prints smeared about, but Sal had done a remarkable job keeping the carnage to a minimum. The three or four beers I’d downed while waiting also seemed to have helped mitigate my queasiness. If you squint it's just chicken... just … don’t think too hard.

Instead, I turned my gaze down to the little man on my counter. He was absolutely beaming. With one hand perched on his hip and the other wielding the ridiculously oversized knife, he smiled up at me, clearly proud of his handiwork. He’d shed a layer or two of clothing in the process of butchering and I tried not to dwell on questioning if that was more, or less sanitary. What I did dwell on however, was him. Man, he was a burly little thing… while the sheer difference in size between us made it near impossible to pick up on the finer details of his features without being intimately close, I didn't have to be uncomfortably close to notice he, in spite of his stature, was a sizable man. Lean, and wildly muscular, boasting a broad chest and narrow waist… he could have told me he was an action figure brought to life and I wouldn't have hesitated to believe him.

“I cut, you cook?” The question sounds less like a true question and more akin to instruction. He shifted awkwardly under my gaze.

“Oh- uh, yeah man, sure thing.” While his proficiency in butchering more than surpassed my expectations, I was not about to trust a questionably feral miniature man with any sort of cooking appliances. I eyed the meat cautiously, two main thoughts becoming prominent in my mind; I was not about to cook hawk on any of my pans, and I was most certainly not about to eat it plain.

The weight of his eyes on me was somehow heavier than he himself. I felt him watch as I rummaged through the fridge, pulling out a mishmash of ingredients to make a half-assed gochujang sauce. With a quick wipe down of a section of the counter I took out a second cutting board, dishes be damned, and began to mince some garlic. He took a step back, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He eyed the garlic, among the other ingredients, warily. I smiled to myself. Oh sure, I’m the bad guy for questioning hawk, but garlic is gross? Though, to his credit, he kept his thoughts to himself.

He busied himself with inspecting the various ingredients I’d brought out, padding around each container curiously. He paid particularly close attention as I emptied a sizeable amount of maple syrup into the bowl, lingering just close enough to peer down into the mix.

“Do you want to try some?” I ask, holding up the spoon to him. His eyes bounce between me and the contents of the spoon before he gives in and dips a finger into the mix. The sight of his tiny hand gripping the edge of the spoon was jarring. Ignoring his surroundings he looked so… normal. So human… but seeing him directly contrasted against such a mundane object almost felt like an optical illusion. He examines the sauce for a moment, brow furrowed and nose wrinkled, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. With a small shrug, his curiosity wins over, and he gives the sauce a taste. His face is immediately alight with shock, and he turns to look at me with an expression of awe.

“Uh… you like it?” Instead of a verbal response, he reaches his hand back onto the spoon, taking a near fistful of sauce. I turn my head to avoid him catching sight of the face I pull at the stomach churning image of a full grown man mowing down on sauce as if it's Michelin-Starred decadence. I ignore the soft yelp he makes in protest as I pull the spoon away, and quickly interject before he can voice his disgruntlement .

“So, I’m thinking we cook these up on the barbecue outside.” I say, averting my gaze from the little monstrosity and the plethora of grotesque slurping sounds coming from his general direction as he licks his fingers clean. Sal makes a sort of hum in agreement. Had he washed his hands after butchering the hawk? I suppress a gag. I needed another drink. Stuffing a few beers under one arm, I haphazardly gathered up the sauce, tongs and meat with my free hand. With my arms more than a little full, I cast my gaze down to Sal,

“Uh, I’ll just set this up outside and then come ba-”

He jumped.

Had my reaction time been any better I’m sure I would have flinched out of the way of the tiny man throwing himself off the counter towards me, but instead all I managed was a yelp in surprise. He caught two handfuls of my shirt fabric and climbed up my midsection with an uncanny speed that could put a seasoned rockclimber to shame. The feeling of such a small and fast moving being freely skittering up my body made my skin crawl. He situated himself near the crook of my arm, a little too suspiciously close to the sauce for my liking, and patted my arm as if I were a horse he was kicking into gear.

---

What a way to travel! I couldn’t help but stare in absolute wonder as the ground flew by, with Mark seemingly moving slow yet covering such boggling distances with each step. This was exhilarating! My heart raced in my chest, and as I leaned back against Mark, I noticed with a bit of a chuckle, so did his.

He made his way out to the porch towards some large metal contraption he had referred to as a bar-bah-kyou? I hopped off onto what seemed like a sort of counter top jutting out from the barbah-thingy’s side as he emptied his arms. As I approached the vaguely tank-like structure, Mark fiddled with something beneath the machine. Upon examination, the barbah-thingy had a handle on the front as well as an assortment of dials lining its base. As I made my way closer, Mark’s hand tentatively blocked my path. I shot him a glare as he pushed me back, and he returned an apologetic smile.

“Uh, just… stand back a little.” He pressed a button. An almost insectoid clicking sound emanated from the machine. There was a whoosh, followed by a sudden increase in heat as the machine was somehow brought to life. Grinning, Mark opened up the tank-thing to show off the flames roaring up inside.

Well, that was certainly easier than rubbing sticks together.

Before I could get a closer look, he closed the lid.

“It's gotta heat up a bit before we're good.” I snorted. It seemed plenty hot to me, but he was in charge of cooking, so I wasn’t about to be fussy. He offered his hand, and I swung myself on, only to immediately be set down on a table between two wooden chairs, with Marking dropping himself into the chair to my left. He stared down at me for a moment before reaching for another one of the metallic cans.

The can made an odd hissing sound as Mark pried open the lid. As he took a swig from the can, I inspected the collection of its unopened brethren beside me. The cans were cool to the touch, with little beads of moisture forming along their surface. The muggy summer air loomed around me, tempting me to lean against the chilled metal surface of the can, but I decided against the potential social faux pas. There were mountains decorating the can, along with bright red letters. It had been a while since I'd seen human writing, especially the squiggly kind, and I wracked my brain trying to place the sounds to the letters. C…ow… ers? C-oo..wers? I felt my brow furrow in frustration. A contented sigh from Mark interrupted my attempts to decode his drink.

“What’re you drinking?” Mark looked a little caught off guard. He chuckled.

“It’s beer.” Beer? Man I was way off on my human spelling. Yikes. “Do you, uh... want some?”

The thought of the cool condensation made that an easy and enthusiastic yes from me. He reached for his can and hesitated. A wide smile formed on his face as he stood. I suppressed the urge to take a step back at his sudden movement. Fuck was he ever big.

“Sick. Lemme go get you a glass.”

Mark returned with a glass that was somehow comically small pinched between his massive fingers, yet within my own hands seemed more like a hefty bucket. Although the bucket-glass would undoubtedly be a bit of a challenge to drink from, I wasn't about to complain about getting more than my fair share of a cool drink.

As he filled my glass he cast me a wary gaze,

“Um, Sal? Have you … had alcohol before?”

“I thought this was beer.” He snorted. I had no idea why his mistake was so funny.

“I guess that's a no?” I shrugged. How could I know if I’d had it if I didn’t know what it tasted like. He laughed again and I smiled, albeit a bit nervously. What was so funny to him?

“Um.. it makes you feel good. Um, almost tingly? But if you have a lot it makes you feel a bit slow and your thoughts feel a bit…um, weird. It lowers inhibitions and-” he prattled on about how this “special drink” would make you feel, but all I could think of was how cool the glass felt against the palms of my hand. The liquid was a warm amber colour filled with bubbles that collected into a soft layer of foam at the top. It hissed quietly as the bubbles rose to the surface. A cool drink that made you feel good? Fine by me. With a bit more effort than would be desirable I lifted the drink to my lips and took a long chug. The size of the glass paired with its awkward weight made trying to control the flow of the liquid a borderline impossible task. As I tilted the glass I got a cool shock as the beer splashed against the entirety of my face, and given the heat, I really had no complaints. The bubbles were strange and stung at my throat but the strangely crisp taste was invigorating. I gulped greedily, not bothered that beer was running down my neck. The change in temperature from the spill was a welcome one.

“Woah, dude” Mark chuckled, placing the tip of his finger on the edge of my glass to guide it away from my face, “Pace yourself.” I shot him a glare, but couldn’t help letting a smirk escape. I held up my glass, making a show of comparing it to his own,

“I think if I’m pacing myself with you I’m still a ways behind.” He shook his head, laughing, and took a long sip from his drink. I did the same. This was nice. The summer heat felt almost enjoyable with his company, especially with the beer included in the equation.

“So… Have you been here long?” I cocked my head, unsure of what he meant, “Um…you know, in the area.” He clarified as he gestured to the expanse of his yard. I stared ahead, feeling as though if I stared hard enough I’d be able to look back through the years I’d been here.

“Yeah, it's been a while.” I took another sip.

“Do you like it here?” That question, casual as it may be, caught me off-guard. Did I like it here? This area was familiar. I’d been in the same spot far longer than I could remember. From the perspective of the porch I felt I could look out at the yard and see the memories that littered what had become my "home range"… The tree I’d climbed when a particularly bad storm had flooded the yard… the spot right below where a squirrel had chased me from their cache… the lattice work right beneath the window where I used to climb to - I shook the memories away.

“It’s home.”

I felt a strange yet familiar feeling claw at the edges of my mind. An emptiness… A total lack of… something. I took another sip, hoping to drown the thoughts, and with any luck, maybe find what I was missing at the bottom of my glass. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark smile, though it didn’t quite reach the rest of his face. He heaved a weary sigh before speaking, a sound that conveyed far more to me than whatever words would follow.

“I hope it’ll start to feel like home for me soon.” He stood, making his way to the fire-tank-thing. The sun had come close to setting, leaving the sky ablaze with warm hues- a stunning display of pinks and golds igniting the horizon. Mark stood out against the backdrop, shrouded in shadow, more like a part of the treeline than a living being… he was fucking massive- no... It wasn’t him that was massive…something deep within the recesses of my brain resented seeing him like that… I took another deep sip from the glass, flushing the thought from my mind. I closed my eyes and leaned back, listening to the sounds of birds in the air, and breathing in the smell of meat roasting above a flame. Though the summer heat was waning, it was as if an ember was being stoked from within my core. A persistent warmth seemed to be rising up from within, as if the very essence of the season had somehow been ignited in my soul. I felt… good.

With my eyes closed I could picture what it would be like… just sitting in the chair to my right, cold can of beer in hand… looking out across a yard I could clear in a handful of strides… Mark sitting down in the chair to my left, not looking down, but instead looking at me. I didn’t care so much for the specifics of the imagery my brain has conjured up… but more so what it seemed to represent in my mind. The image felt close… comfortable, whereas I … when I opened my eyes I felt so far away.

I took another drink.

[skywerse]

wake up it's yuri o'clock

[miracle-fandom]

Look, maybe I am not looking in the right places, but can we talk about how shady the Fenton's "parenting style" must look to everyone else in Amity? Maybe not cannonically, but the fandom really needs to start thinking about it.

We should talk about how easily it is to confuse vigilantism with abuse.

I want Danny with unexplained bruises every other day and the A listers assuming the worst.

I want Mr Lancer seeing Danny start struggling with school for, apparently, no reason and see him sleep on class and realize those are signs of abuse.

I want people to see how protective Sam and Tucker are and realize there's something they are protecting him from.

I need Valerie to see Danny run off at any sign of ghosts and suddenly "oh Fenton doesn't look scared of ghosts" and it clicks in her mind that maybe he's running from his parents.

I want people to see Danny do uncanny things, or have too much pain tolerance, or brush off whatever Dash came up with today and think "huh, that doesn't sound right"

I want the metaphor for child abuse in the show to become a little bit more real in the narrative. Is that too much to ask? I want them hearing the horror stories of the Fenton's cooking and start putting together that "oh, maybe they don't actually... mind experimenting on themselves" and who's to say the same fate didn't happen to Danny or Jazz?

Who's to say where evil scientists stops and child endangerment starts? And if suddenly, Amity Park has started to make Danny's life a little bit easier by making the Fenton's life harder, well, correlation and causation are one hell of a drug.

[ Check reblogs ]

[thefrogdalorian]

Live shot of me rereading my own work and realising how often I write characters experiencing horrifically vivid nightmares

[splo0shh]

Y'all hear me out-

EraserMic but it's in a Beauty and The Beast AU where Hizashi is Belle and Shouta is the Beast

[taylorswiftsapplesauce]

My Equestria Girls Headcanons!

Alright, I'm going to start with Sunset since I feel that she is the center of Equestria Girls.

My main change pre-friendship games is that both Pinkie and Fluttershy are her best friends. Both of them are the nicest ever! I also really love the importance of Fluttershy being one of the first to really befriend her because Sunset was quite mean to her and Fluttershy scares very easily, meaning that it probably deeply affected her. At first Rainbow is very untrusting of Sunset and keeps telling Fluttershy that she doesn't like how she and Sunset are becoming close. Fluttershy tells her that she can take care of herself and tells Rainbow to trust her. Once Rainbow lets go of her distrust, of course she and Sunset enable each other's crazy ideas wonderfully.

OH speaking of enablers Flash and Sunset become besties and he is also a part of their crazy schemes (and Pinkie of course). Fluttershy just anxiously watches.

After friendship games, I see Sunset going to study with Princess Twilight in Equestria while the homies are at school. She still lives in EG realm and spends lots of time with her friends don't worry! At first, Sunset is nervous to approach Celestia, but Celestia asks her if she would do her the honor of being her student again. Sunset gives an emotional yes, and their relationship is very mother/daughter. She joins Twilight on friendship quests when needed as a hands on application to her studying.

Meanwhile, Princess Twilight, while technically no longer a student at all, begins to train with Princess Luna in addition to her duties. Seeing Sunset train under Celestia, learning the same lessons that she did, she gets the odd feeling that Sunset was always meant to be the one learning the magic of the Sun. Furthermore, she sees Sunset taking and interpreting Celestia's lessons in ways she never did, like it just made sense for Sunset. Working with Luna, her world opens up and she connects with herself and those around her on a deeper level. By accessing dreams and aiding in friendship problems within them (similar to things we've canonically seen Luna do) she opens up more avenues for fulfilling her duties. She and Luna also become very close as Twilight recognizes and connects with the urges to isolate, overwork oneself, and the need to prove oneself. They also struggle with tolerating making mistakes and struggle to not view mistakes as proof that they are failures. The guilt complexes run deep. Of course, they also bond over knowing that that is not the healthy way to deal with these emotions. They understand each other and help each other grow!

Back in EG world, Rarity and Applejack are THE highschool sweethearts. Everyone at school knew that they would get together but they were still excited when they finally did.

What not everyone knew is that they almost didn't. Rainbow Dash confided to Rarity that she was growing feelings for Applejack. Rarity resigned herself to letting her friend experience the joy that she wanted. And, she did have to watch in agony as Rainbow Dash and Applejack dated for a week. It was an awkward courtship that ended in deciding that they just worked better as best friends. Once they had broken up, Applejack confessed a few weeks later that she had always had feelings for Rarity. Yay!

Rainbow Dash feels a little embarrassed about how how dating Applejack turned out. It turned out to be an infatuation in the end, but it didn't make her feel any less foolish. Luckily, she had her oldest friend Fluttershy, who always made her feel better when she needed it. Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash are that slowburn where it's really obvious to everyone but them. Their relationship dips when Fluttershy gets frustrated at Rainbow Dash. She feels that Rainbow never makes room for her feelings and the things that she wants to do. At first Rainbow is defensive and gets mad back. But, she quickly goes back and apologizes to Fluttershy and says that she didn't realize she was doing that and of course she wants to know what Fluttershy is feelings and wants to do things that she wants to too!!! Fluttershy says that its not entirely her fault because she didn't say anything. They make up. Yay!! and also spend even more time (they already spent a lot) together as Fluttershy makes Rainbow do things like volunteer at the animal shelter with her and go horseback riding. Also, kind of random, but I think Fluttershy is secretly like really good at archery. During Rainbow's later half of senior year, she dates Lightning Dust, Crystal Prep's star soccer player. It's very toxic but Rainbow doesn't realize it until the damage has already been done. During their time dating, Rainbow gets tired of Fluttershy avoiding Lightning Dust, and starts to agree with Lightning that Fluttershy is holding her down so they grow apart. Ultimately, this is what makes Rainbow realize that Lightning is harmful for her as she is manipulated into becoming isolated from all of her friends. Of course, Fluttershy (and the rest) forgive her.

So Pinkie and Sci Twi... I'm not 100% sure where I want their stories to go. I definitely think Sci Twi is Pinkie's other best friend, so it's a matter of do I ship them or not. I'm not sure on this matter, but they definitely have hang outs where Pinkie bakes while Twilight studies and they have little conversations when Twilight needs a break from studying. Also Sci Twi gets really into the science of baking and she and Pinkie enter baking contests where Pinkie does the designs and decor while Twilight bakes the thing to scientific perfection. Sunset, Pinkie, and Sci Twi are the trio of the century and are given the superlative of "best trio" in the yearbook. On Sunset's birthday Twilight and Pinkie make her a cake with her favorite flavors decorated with memories from their friendship. It may or may not have made her cry. Oh, also the Pinkies (EG vs Equestria) like to switch every once and a while. They don't tell anyone. Sunset and Sci Twi figure it out after a while, but they play along.

I have more for all of them and stuff for college but I think that this post is long enough so I'll make a part two.

[johnslittlespoon]

something about bucky just wanting to be a good boy for buck drives me insane

GOD same. he could not care less about what other people think of him, but gale? he thrives off of his praise, is so eager to please, to prove he can be good, to make gale feel good.

and what gets to him even more than a simple good boy is when it's preceded by my.

"my good boy" and he's putty in gale's hands, all heart–eyes and soft edges and gazing up in reverence at the blond, ready to do anything he asks, looking at him like he's hung the moon.

he craves to be gale's in any and every sense of the word.

yes, i'm your good boy! yes, i'll do whatever you ask! yes, let me make you proud, let me make you feel good, let me draw pretty sounds out of you and show you how much i adore you. i'd wait at your feet forever like a dog waits for its owner to return home.

[goldflinches]

hey you know what would be fun?

5+1 fic with 5 times Hob died in front Dream + 1 time Dream died before Hob. so:

go for comic canon route for maximum angst

canon but with a twist: put the +1 in the middle to keep everyone on their toes and deliver a different kind of angst

canon meetings but for some reason Hob gets dead during the meeting. Dream finding this upsetting for reasons he will not examine. On the other hand, Hob absolutely knows why even the idea of Dream dying is upsetting to him. Will he say it out loud though? Probably not!

post-reunion where Hob has to fake his death(s) and for reasons Hob can't parse out, Dream is always so withdrawn during that time. Then Dream has to fake his own death for some convoluted reason and even if Hob knows it's a ruse, he keeps thinking like what if this was real, what he even do with himself? And realize, oh.

could be retired!Dream witnessing Hob die for the first time up close and getting a dose of the mortal heebiejeebies. Hob seeing Dream die in front of him and just. fucking losing it. pre-relationship or established for different flavors.

+1

retired!Dream dying a good few times (mostly by beginner's bad luck/ underestimating the fragility of a human body) and only realizing why Hob gets so upsetti spaghetti about it once he's on the other end of the same situation.

[gregorygerwitz]

Jay Halstead, Crisis Counselor

"Are you the police?" "No, I just work with the police. I'm here to help you."

Jay can remember the exact moment he changed his mind about what he wanted to do with his life. He'd made it through the police academy, had a uniform and a badge, was patrolling the city of Chicago for a little over a month and thought he was making things safer. But he got pulled into a shootout that felt a lot like being back in Afghanistan, and he missed all the signs he should have seen in his suffering best friend, and none of it was what he expected his life to be like once he was home.

At four in the morning, Tuesday, November 15th, 2011, he sat in a hospital waiting room and made a choice.

By the time he was sitting in a diner three days later, he had quit his job. Between pestering nurses and refilling his body with cheap, tasteless coffee, he'd turned in his badge and filled out the paperwork to enroll in classes that would start after the holidays. It was almost a complete turn around from where he'd been, and it meant finding a part time job and a roommate - his thankfully alive best friend - so that he could keep a roof over his head while he got his degree. If his brother could get through medical school, he could get a Bachelor's on the government's dime.

Facing criminals and getting shot at wasn't what he wanted to do after all. It was too dangerous, brought up too many memories he'd rather forget, and even his therapist thought that distancing himself from things like that was better for him. Because of her and all of the sessions he begrudgingly attended, he actually slept through the night most of the time. He was able to stop drowning all the pain in too much alcohol, or any alcohol at all. He focused on school, and shifts at the family restaurant he'd gotten a job at, and making sure all of the medications in the bathroom cabinet got taken at the right times.

When Jay graduated with his sociology degree, and passed the test to become a licensed social worker, and his best friend became his boyfriend, things finally settled into place the way he thought they would before he'd turned his own life upside down. There were good days, where he got to work with kids and teenagers who just needed someone to listen to them and acknowledge what they were going through, and bad days, where talking to someone wasn't enough to save them from themselves. But it was a life he was proud of, and he'd saved more lives through engaging in the community than he'd taken overseas, and that was the kind of balance Jay didn't know he'd craved.

[ Mouse ]

[giggly-squiggily]

I'd like to request smth from Jujutsu Kaisen, I'd like to request switch yuta and gojo, i find their relationship cute coz they're distant relatives and all hehe

Heyo! Oo, I love this! You know who I need to write more of? Yuta. He's a doll. And Switch!Gojo? BELOVED. I've gotcha covered, anon! :D

CW: Spoilers for JJK 0, angsty- but just a touch,

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo

Things were…odd, after the whole Geto situation.

Rika was gone- at least; her soul was anyway. The curse form she’d taken was Yuta’s now- a sentient vessel that doubled as his technique. It was something both painful and comforting at once- she was gone, but no longer trapped.

Then there was the whole school thing; where exactly do they go from here? The first years were told to return to their usual business, but with most of the remaining curses being special grade, they were left to train and train and…train some more…

His body hurt all over- both from recovering and from the new training program Maki instilled upon them.

And then there was Gojo…

“Good work, you guys! Keep it up!” He called out, grinning behind his new blindfold as the four carried on routine. At a glance, he seemed perfectly fine- joyous even. He laughed at Panda’s jokes and sparred with Maki, gave out little missions to Inumaki and answered basic questions regarding various techniques.

He seemed unfazed.

“He was my best friend. My only friend.”

There was no way he was fine. While the students weren’t told what happened to Geto- the answer was pretty obvious. The way he spoke about him- that untouched softness in his voice with the vaguest hint of grief.

He cared about him- really cared. The pain must have been unbearable.

“There you are! How’s my new favorite distant relative?” Of course getting anything out of Gojo was near impossible.

“New favorite? Do you have others?” He asked, yelping some when Gojo slung an arm over his shoulders, pulling him along. “Who was the last favorite?”

“Jealous?” Gojo snickered, dragging him along as they headed towards one of the indoor training rooms. “To be honest- I don’t really know. I guess that makes you my default favorite. Anyway- you said you wanted to train today?”

“Uh- yes! Yes, I did! Yuta nodded, wiggling free when they got there. “I eh- I train so much with Maki, I’m worried I won’t be ready to fight others, you know? She’s talented, but her way of fighting is just one of many. I want to experience all kinds of techniques!”

“Ah, I see now. Alright- I suppose I can play with you for awhile.” Gojo snickered as he rolled his shoulders, shaking out his hands. Yuta gulped, patting himself down to find…he had no weapon. “O-Oh…”

“That’s fine, we need to work on your hand to hand combat anyway. Tell me- can you throw a punch?” Gojo was on him in seconds, teleporting right before his eyes. Yuta went to block his face-

“GAH!” He gasped when a foot connected with his stomach instead, sending him stumbling back a few feet. He thought Maki’s kicks were bad, but this?

Oh, this was hell.

“Oops- and that wasn’t even that strong of a kick.” Gojo tilted his head at him as Yuta fell to his knees, choking and wheezing. “Hm..maybe hand to hand combat isn’t the best right now. You’re still recovering-”

“I-I can do it!” Yuta got up, straightening his shoulders with a determined glare. “I was just caught off guard, that’s all. Please- let me try again.”

Gojo hummed. Then he smiled, nodding. “Okay, but I’m not gonna go easy on you, Mr. I Can Handle It.”

Another teleport, Gojo was to his left. He went to block-

“AH!” This time instead of a punch or kick, it was a finger- a finger! Pressing right into the soft part of his side. Stumbling back, he covered himself, cheeks pink. “G-Gojo-”

“Yes?” Gojo asked from his other side. Another finger poked him once more.

“EEH!” Yuta all but flailed forward at the touch, tripping on his feet. His knees hit the mats, but not before more fingers attacked his ribs. “Aheahhahahhhahaha! Hohohohohld on! Gohoohoohohjoohohohohoho!”

“What’s wrong? I thought you said you could handle it?” Gojo cooed, kneeling over him as Yuta kicked and squeaked, laughing like a child. “Come on, Yuta- tell me why you're laughing? Is it me?”

“Yohohohohou knohoohoohw whhihihihihihiy! Aheahhahahhaha, Gohoohohohojohoohohoho! Stahhahahp tihihihihihckling mehehehehehehe!” Yuta swatted at his hands, feet kicking up a storm as he tried to squirm away. No matter where he went, Gojo was right there with him, kneading his sides and tasering the soft parts of his belly. “Plehhahahahhahahhahse!”

“Aww, look at you begging! Come on- this is a training day! Use some of those fancy curse techniques you’ve been working on.” Gojo moved to his belly, tapping his fingers along it as Yuta squealed. “Oh man- you’re just like Gumi! Hey- I wonder what would happen if I did this?”

“Whohohohoohho’s Guhuuhu-MEHEHEHEHHEHE!” Yuta never got to ask his question. He arched like a victim of an exorcism as fingers shot into his armpits, clawing at the skin beneath. “GOHOHOOHOHOOHJOHOHOHOHO!”

“Oo, this is really bad, huh?” Gojo cooed, snickering alongside him. “You and Gumi- what is it with kids like you two being so ticklish here?”

Yuta was gonna die. He was gonna die and die and die some more. There was only one way to get out of this…

“Hm? Yuta, whatcha gonna do-whoa!” Gojo was suddenly pulled off, “Rika”’s hands grasping his biceps and adjusting him until he was properly trapped. “Not bad, Yuta. Rika’s vessel has it’s uses.”

“Ahehehe…hehehehe…heh…” Yuta groaned as he sat up, rubbing his belly to alleviate the ticklishness. “Rika…keep him still…”

“Oh? What’s this- Yuta’s gonna get revenge?” Gojo sounded impressed and something else Yuta couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I’m so scared! Oh someone help little ol’ me!”

“Oh, you’re gonna need help alright- here I COME!” Yuta lunged, grabbing onto Gojo’s sides to…nothing. Not even a peep.

“Oo, good move. Now actually tickle me.” Gojo grinned, absolutely unfazed.

“What-but-” Yuta narrowed his eyes, tickling more. He moved to his hips, his waist, his belly- nothing! Gojo meanwhile was lounging as best he could in his trapped state, humming a happy tune. “You have to be ticklish! You have to be!”

“Sorry Yuta- I guess I’m not.” He snickered. Yuta glared before going for ribs, kneading them gently. That’s when he saw it- the slight tension in Gojo’s easy smile.

“Oooooh…you got tickly ribs?” Yuta grinned as he attacked, scratching along his ribcage. Gojo’s easy pose stiffened, his smile tightening as he struggled to remain composed. “I knew you were ticklish! Come on- laugh! You need it.”

“N-Now wahaht gave you thahat idea?” A few traitorous giggles escaped Gojo’s lips, much to Yuta’s delight. “Yuhuhuta, wait- wahahhait not thehehehre!”

“Why not? Does it tickle?” Yuta teased, tapping his way down until he was hovering over his lower ribs. “Is this your most ticklish spot?”

“N-Nohohohoohoho?” The lie was so obvious. Yuta could barely fight down a grin.

“Hehehe~”

“Yuhuhuhuta- YUHUHUUHUHUUTAHHAHAHAHHAHA!” Gojo all but exploded when Yuta prodded his lower ribs, going right for that dreadful spot along the lower third. Squirming his best within the confines of Rika’s grip, he cackled and howled with mirth, head thrown back as his legs did a little jig against the mats. “OHOHOOHOKAY OHOHOHOHOKAY YOHOHOOHU WIHIIHIHIHN!”

“I-I do?” Yuta pulled his hands back, amazed. Rika’s grip loosened…

“HA! You believed me!” Gojo cackled before tackling him to the mat, resuming his tickles.

“AHEHEHE! G-GOHOOHOHOJOHOHOHO!

~~~

“Eh…eheheheh…heh…” Yuta ran his hands over his face in exhaustion, his body like jelly but his chest strangely light. “Thahat…was kinda nice.”

“Heh, yeah.” Gojo was a picture of relaxed. You wouldn’t have known him and Yuta had a full blown tickle fight just from his appearance. That is the way of Gojo it seems. “So- feeling better?”

“Huh?” What was that about?

“You’ve been looking at me like a lost puppy for the past few days. I figured you were stressed about everything that happened. Sometimes, we just need a distraction from it all, you know?”

Yuta stared at him, the words sinking themselves into his skin. “You…you were worried about me?”

“Yeah. You are my student, no?”

“Yeah but- Gojo! Everything that happened! Geto- your best and only friend! The fight, his war declaration- his….” Yuta couldn’t bring himself to say it. “You’ve been through hell and yet- here you are worried about me! You shouldn’t have to put everything away to comfort some kid like me! You….you…” Tears blurred his vision, and Yuta found himself staring up at the ceiling as he willed them down. “God..Gojo…”

The other man was quiet, letting the room fill with the sound of Yuta’s soft sniffling. Then a hand reached out, squeezing his shoulder.

“I’m not gonna lie…I’m a mess.” Gojo laughed, voice a touch choked. “You’re right- everything you just said was right. Minus some things.” Gojo pushed up his blindfold so he could meet his eyes properly. “You’re not just ‘some kid’. You’re my student. Not only that- but a distant relative. I know that probably doesn’t mean much to you, but to me it feels kinda special. Probably some sentimental part of me, you know?

“Geto...I've accepted what he became. I accepted it long before any of this happened. Sure- it hurts. It hurts that this is how it all came to an end, but…I got my closure. That’s all that matters to me now.” Gojo moved his hand up to Yuta’s hair, ruffling it some. “Thank you though. It’s nice to know someone cares about what’s going on with me.”

Yuta couldn’t bring himself to speak, instead smiling through watery eyes as he nodded. The curse faded away, leaving just them side by side against worn down mats.

“I do feel better. Thank you.”

Thanks for reading!

[sweetcobaltblue]

// on a lighter note...darker..note?? i feel like i didnt keep track of Atem and Roy drama and is now been hit in the face with feels...and muses oblivious or not to doma related drama/regrets are just standing here silently --dfbnfg

[pluvio-floret]

Being normal about chilaios being so normal about chilaios

[lionpars]

do you think about how javi probably hated himself ( and still does hate himself to some extent ) for not being there with all his friends when everyone but kate died like, he wasn't in there in all that with them. he wonders if him being there could've changed something, could've had a different outcome ( even though he knows you can't change the mind of a damn tornado and they all did everything they could in that moment ).

all javi could do was watch everything in horror from a distance. feel the dread of not knowing what was happening to all his friends but know that something bad was happening, a gut feeling that everything was going so horribly wrong and being confronted with the fact that everything absolutely had gone so horribly wrong.

do you just think -

[dumdum-snakemom]

Playing thought a lot of IFs recently (it's a problem) and I love the Fallen Hero serie way too much for my own good. Really got everything I could crave in a narrative frfr.

Anyway, all this to say that I love the Rat King. Favorite little manmade horror/scientific experiment/lil guy in fiction.

[artisadie]

Hey remember this au from like a year ago, where ryo gets trapped within pegasus? I've been thinking about it again <3

Ginga would ask for so many stories, just to fill up the space while he's traveling.... some of it is beyblade history related. Some of it is ryo absolutely bullshitting just to make him laugh

And Madoka cannot hear him but by god is ryo gonna try anyway. Madoka go to BED. HAVE BETTER POSTURE.