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stsgooo · 5 months

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Subconscious Reassurance.

✩࿐ summary: even the strongest has dreams he longs to be reality.

warning(s): slight 236 spoilers, shibuya incident spoilers, mentioned death, poor coping mechanisms, lovesick!gojo, girldad!gojo, as usual not proofread (it’s 2 am give me a break). wc; 3.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x reader

a/n: keep seeing tiktoks about the lamp story and this came to me. it’s a shortie but i just wanted to get this out. also do we prefer the colorless manga panels or the ones like the above one? i was messing with filters on picsart so lmk :)

divider 1 | previous work | ao3

SATORU ARRIVED HOME EXACTLY 7 PM.

He knew it was true because that’s the time he always arrived. There was no need to glance at the clock or question anyone around him. He knew it was 7PM.

The sun was peeking through the curtains and basking your shared home in a golden hue. Warmth enveloped his very being as he closed the front door behind him. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t being touched by the sun, that wasn’t feeling the same feelings he did.

The sky outside was illuminated in a mixture of purples, reds, oranges, and pinks. A palate that could be implemented into his very soul and he’d smile in return.

“Daddy!”

The call was familiar and came exactly one minute after Satoru walked through the door.

Again, he didn’t need to glance, he just knew.

A smile blossomed on his lips and he crouched down to catch the little girl that jumped into his arms with a loud squeal. Her nose pressed into her cheek as she happily rambled about how much she missed him. A norm and a routine that he greeted happily with his own reassurances that he missed her infinitely more.

"Daddy," she whined, her tiny chubby fingers reaching up for his blindfold. "Can't see your eyes, daddy."

This happened every night after he arrived home. She would always frown and trace her nails over where his eyes would definitely be. Most of the time it was uncomfortable and, frankly, a little scary, but he always welcomed it with an overly dramatic gasp.

"Oh, sorry, daddy forgot!" He hooked his finger under the fabric and pulled it down to rest against his neck. Her eyes (which were his) met his and brightened considerably. "Is that better, Rie?"

Rie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Despite the aching behind his right eye, Satoru kept the blindfold off for Rie’s sake. She had always expressed her upmost displeasure for the item since she was a baby. Crying and crying until he finally pulled it off. It’d been a rough first few years trying to get used to pulling the thing off whenever he got home. But he’d grown accustomed to it.

“What’s mama up to?” Satoru asked softly, tracing his finger briefly over the bridge of Rie’s nose as she giggled.

The little girl swayed slightly in his arms. “Mama’s been working in the eating room—“ dining room, Satoru softly corrected with a smile, “—she put on on Yuki for me to watch while she worked.”

“Yuki, huh? Lucky you!” He playfully pinched her cheek which resulted in her swatting his hand with a resounding “daddy!” in protest. Satoru adjusted her on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Should we go bother mommy?”

Like usual, Rie enthusiastically nodded in response.

Poor you.

True to his routine, he made his way from the front door towards the dining room, loudly. He left no room for you to not hear him coming him and gave you ample opportunity to prepare for his and Rie’s interruption on your precious work (he swore you were almost as bad as Nanam— …. as… as…).

The smile on his lips didn’t falter as his mind trailed away from the forgotten name. What was forgotten obviously wasn’t entirely important. He enthusiastically turned the corner, arm thrown out as Rie squealed happily as his rather jerky movements.

You were as you always were. Responsible. In your usual space occupying your rightful position.

Despite the loud (dramatic) entrance he made, you did not react in anyway. Your eyes were glued to your screen as you furiously typed away a response to whoever got on your bad side today. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. In fact, this should’ve been around the time Gakuganji of Ya— someone of higher standing emailed you something that didn’t sit right with you. Even the appearance of your amazing and rambunctious husband didn’t seem to deter you from your mission.

Satoru pouted, huffing as he peacefully placed Rie down (the girl now more interested in the TV returning to her show), and crept closer to you. Still, you did not look away.

He leaned over, his chin hooked over his shoulder as he peeked over the words you were putting out into the world. Oddly, he couldn’t read any of the screen. He tried squinting your eyes and blinking a few times— nothing. It was more reminiscent of gibberish than any Japanese he knew. None of it seemed to stay in one place and it all smashed together to create a blob.

You knew how to read and write, he knew that much. Was it something with his eyes? He doubted it. But something wasn’t—

The laptop clicked close.

“You’ve never been one to take a hint, Satoru,” you turned your head to place a soft kiss against his temple in greeting. He could feel your tiny smile against his skin. The warmth of your lips. The coolness of your silvia left behind. His chest ached. He missed— missed? “Although, I knew that before I married you.”

He pushed away the mud in his mind and turned his head, placing a peck against your lips. Strawberries. You always had remnants of strawberries on your lips. Rie’s favorite fruit.

“I think it’s one of my many charming qualities.” He hummed.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a chaste kiss against his lips once again. “Charming is pushing it.” You patted his cheek. “It’s definitely an interesting characteristic.”

Satoru pouted. “You make it sound so unappealing.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

He snorted in response, standing to his full height and peeking at you from over his nose. “You know, you’re not innocent either. Thought you said the TV would rot her brain, now you’re putting it on to keep her distracted?” He spared a glance to where Rie was hanging off the couch, upside down, her eyes glued to the television.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Because she’s your daughter and has the self restraint of a puppy. I needed a hour to get some things done.” You pat the top of your laptop. “Sue me.”

Satoru smirked. “I just might for emotional damages.” He gestured towards the laptop with a vague hand. “What exactly had you typing up a storm?”

There was a brief wave of giddiness in his chest when he saw the look in your eyes darken. Passion. Anger. Protectiveness. There were so many things he loved about you. Adored you for. Made him sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

“Well, I got an email from —— about some work in Shibuya, but I told him I already checked it out and suffered for it. Well, guess what he said? ——— and ———— suffered too so I can’t complain much. Set me off a bit, had to give him a piece of my mind and remind him what happened.”

Satoru wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or he was just too awestruck by your beauty; but he swore that your voice simply stopped whenever you spoke names. As if your voice box couldn’t get it out. But you carried on like it was nothing. Your lips had even formed around the words that so desperately wanted to be out there, but were never uttered. You didn’t look panicked or disturbed. If anything, you looked normal. Just sipping from your capri sun that was definitely forced on you by Rie.

It was like he was the only one not hearing it.

It vaguely concerned him, but he was also Gojo Satoru. Sometimes weird things happened that had no explanation.

“But,” you continued once you swallowed down the fruit punch liquid with a twisted face. “I suppose I can’t really blame anyone for what happened. It was Halloween, we were all caught off guard. Some of us suffered for it more than others.”

Satoru, for the life of him, couldn’t recall what happened on Halloween. But he should. He had that overwhelming feeling that he really, really should.

Either way, he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, my motto is that it’s always easier to forgive and forget.” He snatched the remainder of your capri sun and gave a loud slurp.

You grin, resting your chin on your cupped fingers. “I suppose so.” You eyed him warmly, then nodded to the chair next to you. Always warm. Always welcoming. “Now, what did you get up to today?”

Satoru groaned, flopping onto the seat with a creak. He placed the capri sun down to place his hands against his face. “Two specials grades in Iwate, one grade one in Kagawa, then three nasty things leeching off on the playground on the way home.” He knew he should feel exhausted. He usually did. But that day, this day, he did not. If anything, he felt well rested.

Odd.

You hum softly. “They’re overworking you, Satoru,” your tone is barely there. Your words could be missed if the house had any movement or loud noises. But it was just you and him. The soft background noises of your daughter. Always you and him. “They should recognize that you’re just a man. One day it’ll be too much. One day you’ll snap in half.”

Satoru frowned, finding the sudden shift in tone a little unsettling. “I’m the strongest, no need to worry.” He waved a passive hand in the air between you.

“I’ll always worry. It’s been my job to worry.” Your eyes moved towards Rie almost melancholic. “She’ll worry too, you know. She does worry. More than she should at 10.”

Satoru frowned deeper. “Eh…?” He blinked slowly, eyes sliding to Rie with confusion. 10? Was he crazy? Blind? Since when was the little girl sitting on the couch 10? Last he checked, she was six. It was 2012. Were you losing it on him? Was this your subtle way of telling him you’re spiraling again? “Baby, she is not—“

“I know you worry too. Think you’ve been worried about losing since the moment you got home.”

Losing? He’s never lost. Well, except those few times. But they didn’t count. Those were intentional loses.

Satoru was beginning to feel as though you both were having two different conversations. “Y/N, I’m not following.” He stated softly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have to do tomorrow, Satoru?” You breezed through as if you knew where that was going. A pensive expression on your face now.

Again, he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Tomorrow? I…Well, I’m going to Shinjuku to… to…” To…what…? What was it he had to do? He could feel it deep in his chest. That ache. That unfamiliar emptiness that made him rub over his heart softly. There was something he was missing.

“Tomorrow’s going to be romantic,” You said wistfully, eyes distant as you sighed. “Well, it’s supposed to be.”

December 24th.

December 24th. So I don’t have to remember two different dates.

How romantic.

Satoru felt his gut churn. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t explain it but everything felt so tight now.

“I’m not.. I don’t…?”

Why couldn’t he get words out. Why did he stare at you like that? Unmoving, unblinking? Why did his eyes collect with tears.

Why did you look so sad?

You reached out, taking his hand. It’s cold. It feels cold. Not like the usual warmth that envelopes him whenever you held him. Whenever you reached out from him.

You’re cold.

You take his hand. “Satoru, what’s happening tomorrow?”

Seriously, what is with you?

Satoru clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why but he felt so unnerved. He felt like he’s been disillusioned. As if his world was crumbling. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand.

You’re cold.

You looked briefly disappointed in his response. “You’re not well. You’re trying to appear to be, but you’re not. She worries. She’s so worried. And you know it.” Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Your cold thumb gently stroked against his bone, against the tears that were flowing— why was he crying?

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t feel tired. “I just need a nap.” He didn’t feel tired.

“Oh, Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you uttered it, barely audible. But it was enough to conjure up an earth shattering sob from his chest. A heartbroken tremble under your touch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You’re right here?” Confusion was clear in his tone and his expression as he stared back at you.

You just smiled sadly in response.

He shook his head. “You’re right here.” He prided a finger against your chest. Firm. But cold.

You tilted your head and blinked slowly at him.

Satoru wasn’t sure why, but he took in as deep breath. Like he couldn’t quite catch it in the first place.

“You didn’t— You’re right here!” He desperately clutched onto your hand, pressing your skin against his own. “You’re right here. This-This is real. This-This is you. Please. Please, this is you.”

You only stared sadly in response.

Satoru wasn’t sure what was happening. Why he was so panicked or why he felt so terribly sad— but he knew it was making him quiver and sob. Why? Why? Why did this all have to happen to you? Of all people had you been the one to suffer?

What suffering?

“I…” He felt breathless. Feather light. He felt like he had no control of his lips or his tongue. “Tomorrow I fight… Sukuna…?”

Sukuna? Since when? When did—

“Since before Shibuya. Since before Itadori Yuji.” You answered his thoughts.

Itadori Yuji. Satoru thought that name sounded familiar. A blank face appeared in his mind, the back of a pink hair head facing him. Itadori Yuji.

He felt like he was living someone else’s life. As if he were placed in some point in space where nothing bad could touch it.

But these feelings, these tears, this ache in his chest wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t safe from the darkness of the world.

“Nanami… Yaga… Nobara…” You uttered the names that made his ears ring. That made his muscles tense and his heart sputter to a catastrophic halt. “But still you dream of Suguru…. of me…. of the lives you desperately want to hold on to.”

Suguru… you…

Satoru’s lips quivered.

Suguru… you….

“Why?” You asked the million dollar question.

Breathless whispers against sweat slick skin. Endless touches of tense muscle. Hair hanging and tickling. Eyes sure and hardened with undoubted honesty.

Why? Satoru thought that question was dumb. Why would the earth dream to reach out for the moon and the sun?

He stared at you, big blue eyes glittering with shimmering tears. “I’m the strongest… I should’ve saved the ones I loved… I should’ve… I’m the strongest.”

To be whole. To be loved. To love.

You sigh softly. Sadly. “Satoru, you can’t save everyone.”

“But I could.”

“Obviously not.”

The words were final. Absolute. No doubt. And he supposed, a deep part of him knew, you were right.

But that other part of himself. The one that hated himself for what happened, for whatever happened, convinced him otherwise.

“You don’t—“

“Get it?” You raised an eyebrow at his blink. “I’m your subconscious. I’m your deepest, most personal thoughts. I get it.”

Satoru stared in return. “…huh?”

You pressed your lips together. “Satoru, you’re the strongest. But you don’t always have to be.” You whispered if. A nefarious secret between the both of you that couldn’t be touched. That couldn’t be shared outside of this setting. You scoot closer in your chair. You’re slotted between his legs. “There’ll come a time where you need to step back. To rest. And let those you’ve guided this far to do their jobs.”

Resting. Stepping back.

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. It was never a guarantee nor was it ever a possibility. He feared, even now, he couldn’t even dream about something like that.

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

Years later, Satoru didn’t know what to make of his words. But Suguru had always known him better, he supposed.

Distracted, he didn’t realize you had started to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his head against your shoulder. It was a blissful moment when he came to his senses. When he felt your fingers ghost his scalp. When he felt your lips brush against his temple.

“You should take a nap, you look tired.”

The moment the words left your lips, his eyes felt heavy and he felt exhausted. He hadn’t felt tired before. He would love to sleep. But…

“What about you?” He whispered, eyes unmoving from your face. He studied the bow of your lips. The softness and warmth of your eyes. The faint blush across your cheeks. The little wrinkles on your forehead. “If I close my eyes, you’ll be gone.”

“No,” you shook your head and placed your free hand against his rapidly beating heart. “I’ll be here.”

How cliche. He wanted to say. But he would take it. He’d take and savor any moment with you.

He took in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you.” No hesitation. No doubt. How could this be a dream? Something of his own mind? He nuzzled into your neck with a small sigh. “Take care of her.”

Take care of her.

Satoru woke with a soft gasp.

He was not happy or surprised to find the ceiling of his dark room instead of the dining room.

The clock next to his bed illuminated 2AM in angry red outline. He’d been asleep for approximately 4 hours. And dreamt of you. Again.

His jaw clenched as he tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. You, angelic, in your rightful place typing away. That’s what you should be doing.

Instead, you were one of the first to die in Shibuya.

It’d been you, then Nanami, then Nobara, then whoever else.

She got caught up with Noritoshi in the tunnels, that Death Womb Painting kid tried to explain to Satoru when everyone else had been too distraught and nervous to reveal it themselves. She didn’t suffer.

It didn’t bring him comfort. Satoru was pretty sure it was a lie, but it still brought him no comfort.

It gave him all the more reason to make Kenjaku suffer.

December 24th.

Today was the day.

Almost two months since your death. Christmas Eve.

Satoru was pretty sure he was about to do the same. Embrace death for the sake of others.

He could look around, tell all of them that he’d win, but there was that growing inkling that this was mounting up against him. That Sukuna— Megumi— knew exactly what to do to get one up on him. He feared the unknown. The possibility this was it.

What would you say?

“Dad?”

Satoru’s eyes dragged from the ceiling and to the spot next to him.

Now 10, Rie was older and less rambunctious. But he blamed that partly on your death and his sudden sealing.

She had clung to him since he returned. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him, begged him to never go again— she thought she’d lost him just like mama. (It’d been six years since he heard her call you mama.) And she slept in his bed. Said she couldn’t sleep otherwise. She’d curl up against him and he’d run his hands through her hair as he hummed a long forgotten lullaby to guide her to sleep.

Shoko said she needed this. Him.

Satoru knew she needed you.

“Rie, did I wake you?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” surprisingly, it sounded like the truth. “I’ve been up.”

He frowned, “Why?”

There was a prolonged pause between them. A thick layer of hesitation passed and Satoru tensed up. What could she possibly be up for?

When he heard the small sniffle, his heart ached.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed kisses against her head. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to die!” Rie sobbed immediately. “I don’t want you to fight stupid Sukuna! I just want you to stay here with me— I can’t lose you too!”

I can’t lose you too.

Satoru pressed his lips together as tears sprung to his eyes. “Rie, I’m not going to die.” Such sure words for a man who was worried over his own mortality only moments ago. Who had to be reassured by his subconscious image of his dead wife that it’s okay to lose.

Rie shook her head frantically. “No! I heard Kusakabe say you will!” She sobbed, clutching onto his night shirt with a vice like hold.

Satoru silently cursed the man as he rubbed Rie’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? What does Kusakabe know anyway, the schmuck?” His poor attempt at joking fell flat, Rie only continued to cry. With a heavy sigh, Satoru pulled back, holding her face in his hands. “What do I always say, hm? I’m the strongest. I’ll get one up on him.”

Rie stared up at him and Satoru was painfully aware of how young she was. “You promise?” She uttered.

Satoru hesitated.

If he were to promise and it didn’t actually work out, who was he? Would she resent him for the rest of her life? Would she try to forget him and spit on his memory? He’d been promised many things in life by people he looked up to and every single one had been broken. Resentment festered. Trust was broken.

What kind of father was he if he—

Take care of her. She worries.

Satoru tucked some of her hair— your hair— behind her ear. “I promise.” He whispered, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

Rie clutched onto him once again. “I love you.”

No hesitation.

“I love you too.”

The worries of Sukuna and Kenjaku could wait until morning. Satoru had to focus on her now.

Take care of her.

#✩࿐ t writes #♡ oneshot #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru angst #yeahhhh #another one where reader is dead #can’t help myself sorry.

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kimjun · 5 months

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𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫… 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 baby

Simon is not a guy who goes out with a woman just for one night, he is the type who needs to get to know the person well before having sex. But the one time he does that he gets a surprise nine months later, he has you in his arms.

His mother gave you to Simon without thinking twice. The problem was that Simon had his duties in the army and was now more motivated to make the world better for you.

Simon read every book on fatherhood, he was on leave so he could be with you.

Simon was sure that taking care of a baby is more difficult than going to war. Staying up all night wasn't a problem, the bad part was when you had colic and cried all night and Simon didn't know what to do.

Soap appears to save Simon. He knows a trick or two that he saw on tik tok. Next, two large men are preparing a basin of warm water, one of them turning on a dimmer light, and then a soft music playlist plays in his room.

Simon barely sleeps, he's always keeping an eye on you.

He puts you in comfort baby and goes out shopping for clothes and everything else you need. People look at the big man carrying a baby through the mall.

Simon's car has toys scattered on the seat.

The house that was previously colorless now had many colorful things.Now back to work, Ghost's office has a lot of colorful things.

Laswell is her nanny, no one knows how Ghost managed to convince her. Okay, Katy has someone she trusts to take care of you while Ghost is on the mission, but she keeps an eye on you.

You're always in someone's arms, Soap and Gaz and of course Price are carrying you around the base.

Lost toys can be found around the base.

Ghost knows that if he dies, you will be well taken care of.

#call of duty #captain price #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #daughter reader #x daughter!reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #reader insert #x reader #ghost

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markrosewater · 4 months

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Maro’s Teaser for Murders at Karlov Manor

Before previews for Murders at Karlov Manor officially begin, I thought it would be fun to do another of my Duelist-style teasers where I give tiny hints of things to come. Note that I’m only giving you partial information.

First up, here are some things you can expect:

• white gets a card that lets you play a subset off the top of the deck

• a new enchantment subtype Case

• a card with four different hybrid symbols in its mana cost

• a popular mechanic returns tweaked with a new name

• a green sorcery that you can have any number of in your deck

• a keyword mechanic not printed in a premier set since 2008 returns on a single card

• a creature that allows you an alternate nonmana cost for all your spells

• some creature tokens in the set: (note that some have abilities) 0/0 green Ooze, 0/0 colorless Thopter (also artifact), 0/1 green Plant, 1/1 black Bat, 1/1 white Dog, 1/1 red Goblin, 1/1 white Human, 1/1 blue Merfolk, 1/1 white and black Spirit, 1/1 colorless Thopter (also artifact), 2/1 black Skeleton, 2/1 black and green Spider, 2/2 white and blue Detective, 2/2 red Imp, and 5/5 green and white Wolf

• And yes, Murder is in the set

Next, here are some rules text that will be showing up on cards:

• “Whenever a creature an opponent controls dies, if its toughness was less than 1, draw a card.”

• “Choose any number of target players.”

• “Creature cards in your graveyard gain ‘You may cast this card from your graveyard’ until end of turn.”

• “Then sacrifice it if it has five or more bloodstain counters on it.”

• “you may search your graveyard, hand, and/or library for a card named Magnifying Glass and/or a card named Thinking Cap and put them onto the battlefield.”

• “target opponent gains control of any number of target permanents you control.”

• “If an ability of a creature you control with power 2 or less triggers, that ability triggers an additional time.”

• “As long as there are no cards in your library,”

• “If one or more tokens would be created under your control, those tokens plus a Clue token are created instead.”

• “Whenever you sacrifice a Clue, target opponent gets two poison counters.”

Here are some creature type lines from the set:

• Creature – Vedalken Artificer Detective

• Creature – Ogre Cleric

• Artifact Creature – Insect Thopter

• Creature – Lammasu

• Creature – Weird Detective

• Creature – Goblin Bard

• Creature – Viashino Assassin

• Artifact Creature – Clue Fish

• Creature – Elf Crocodile Detective

• Legendary Creature – Mole God

Finally, here are some names in the set:

• Airtight Alibi

• Caught Red-Handed

• Deadly Cover-Up

• Eliminate the Impossible

• Homicide Investigator

• Innocent Bystander

• It Doesn’t Add Up

• Person of Interest

• Private Eye

• Scene of the Crime

Follow the story each day this week and tune into the debut at 9:00 am PT on Jan 16 on twitch.tv/magic or youtube.com/@mtg to learn whodunit! Can you solve the mystery before detective extraordinaire Alquist Proft?

#Magic The Gathering #MTG #Murders at Karlov Manor #WotCStaff

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horseimagebarn · 6 months

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horse whose hair has been shorn to look like puzzle pieces with longer hair representing one type of piece and shorn flesh representing another color of piece the horse is facing away from the camera so that we may see the pieces all along its side back and neck the background of this image which seems to be a typical farm is completely black and white in contrast to our tan colored friend perhaps the missing piece in this puzzle does not lie in the horse but in its colorless environment

#horse #horses #horse pics #horseblr #horseposting #reaction pics #reaction image #reaction images #styling #unusual #singular horse #outdoors #neighhhh

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cnt-21 · 1 month

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Endless Nighttime Sky

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x f!reader

summary: feyd-rautha was never supposed to be a harkonnen.

wc: 2240

warnings: angst, canon typical violence, referenced sex, references to the baron being a creep, major character death

a/n: i merged pt 2 movie feyd and book feyd bc my antidepressants won’t let me sleep or cry or feel so now we all suffer

⟢

Feyd-Rautha’s life has never been colorful, even before his Uncle brought him and his brother to Giedi Prime after the incident. But Lankiveil was a different type of colorless than Giedi Prime. Endless snow and endless sea and endless sky were only ever interrupted by the occasional building or boat or cloud, it was a natural absence of color. On Giedi Prime, color wasn’t absent, rather, it was stolen. Extinguished by the light of the black sun.

As a child, he could step outside and see the pink of his skin, the blue of the sea, and her cerise colored lips stretched into a smile. Feyd tried not to think of such things underneath the black sun of Giedi Prime, focusing instead on the blades in his hands, the rush of blood in his veins, and the roar of the crowd as he cut down his opponent. It’s easy in the arena, watching the blood seep out of wounds of the fighting men, like watching ink bleed across paper.

As the second son of a second son, Feyd shouldn’t have been the heir to anything, let alone his Uncle’s Barony, but his Uncle’s preferences and his brother’s violent tendencies all but shoved the title of na-Baron into his lap. He wishes he could’ve kept his mother’s name, wishes the name Rabban hadn’t been tainted by his degenerate brother, wishes he hadn’t been corrupted by the Harkonnen name.

Glossu was supposed to be Uncle’s heir. Glossu “Beast” Rabban should’ve been na-Baron Glossu Harkonnen. Glossu was supposed to go to Giedi Prime by himself, and Feyd wouldn’t have had to learn to fight as a gladiator, to hide poison needles in his clothes, to seek comfort in pleasure slaves and pain. Feyd-Rautha Rabban would’ve learned how to navigate using the stars and how to sail the icy seas and how to love his wife, a girl promised to him since conception.

He thinks he already did love her, when he was a child and still the future Count of Lankiveil and she was the future Countess. He remembers her fondly with a burning behind his eyes and a tightness in his chest that he suppresses because that is a weakness he cannot afford. But sometimes when he’s alone, after a fight or a fuck or another filler, he allows himself to think of cold nights. Whale fur kept the two of them dry and warm in the snow as they made their way to the lighthouse. They’d race up the stairs and he would win every time because his legs were slightly longer and he could take two at a time and only trip once.

The door to the gallery was heavy, but he’d manage to open it before she could catch up with him. He would hold it open for her until she joined him outside, and they’d laugh at their mingling breath visible in the frigid air before leaning against the railing, uncaring of whether or not the old metal could hold their combined weight. She would point at which constellations were visible in the sky and list off the most memorable stars. Feyd would listen even though he already knew which constellations were out and every star in each one, not just the brightest or prettiest sounding, because he was the future Count of Lankiveil and he would need to know those things. But letting her talk meant he could watch her, admire her red nose, rosy cheeks, cerise smile, and messy hair.

Feyd can’t remember which stars she had chosen to name their children after, can’t even remember which constellations were visible on Lankiveil from the Rabban manse. Giedi Prime is far, surrounded by different constellations, different stars, and polluted with millennia of industry. Even if he looked to the sky, there wouldn’t be any stars to name.

He doesn’t think of stars in the arena. Or even the black sun and the colors it stole. He focuses on the blades in his hand, the drugged Atreides soldiers he is meant to kill, and Lady Margot Fenring. Except one of the soldiers isn’t drugged. It’s not really a problem, Feyd is an excellent fighter. Gladiator fights are mere public training matches for him. It’s been years since he struggled against anyone in a fight. But it’s unexpected, which means someone planned to catch him off guard. He would accuse Glossu if he thought his brother had the intelligence to come up with such a plan. It could only be his Uncle and that twisted Mentat of his.

The sober soldier’s movements are too exact, missing the sluggish, inaccurate movements of intoxication. If he were a lesser man he’d let his surprise affect his fighting, slip up, make a mistake, but he was trained for this. The fireworks go off, signaling his victory with inky explosions in the sky, all color and brightness consumed by the black hole sun, and Feyd represses the memories of his first fight—not in the arena, but at home. On Lankiveil, in the snow, him against Glossu.

Lady Margot Fenring proves to be an excellent comfort. She provides the necessary pain and pleasure while he’s free to relinquish control. But he’s grown too accustomed to the almost inhuman appearance of those on Giedi Prime. Their hairless, paper white skin, dilated pupils, androgynous figures. It’s easy to lose track of who is who, to pretend the pain and pleasure is entirely him, that he is whole. But Lady Margot Fenring doesn’t subscribe to the beauty standards of Giedi Prime. In the unnatural lighting of his chambers, he can see the pink of her skin, her pupil surrounded by her iris, and the peach fuzz on her arms.

When Lady Margot Fenring leaves, Feyd allows himself to remember the girl that would have been his wife. They would have been married by now. It would’ve been a winter wedding regardless of season because there was always a pileup of snow near the Rabban manse. Her dress would have been as white as the snow, made of silk and lined with whale fur to keep warm, and dripping in diamonds and pearls. She’d be a woman grown, bust and waist filled out, but her nose red, cheeks rosy, and her cerise colored lips curved in a smile. They’d consummate their marriage in the warmth of the Rabban manse and he’d have his own future Count of Lankiveil on the way.

Feyd can understand the economic allure of Arrakis, but actually being on the desert planet feels wrong. He was born on the snowy seaside, the complete opposite of Arrakis. Dry heat feels uncomfortable on his skin, reminding him of the warnings his parents told him about frostbite, becoming so cold you believe you're overheating. But his presence was necessary, otherwise his Uncle’s scheming for him to end up on the throne would all be for naught.

He’s not particularly worried when Arrakeen is attacked. When he’s rounded up with the Emperor and his people to meet the leader of the fremen, the one they call Muad’Dib, he allows the guards to take his weapons and ignores the one that openly glares at him with pure loathing. He stands at the back of the crowd, vaguely listening to the apparently not dead Paul Atreides bicker with the old crone before addressing the Emperor. It’s much the same drivel as before, until—

“Majesty, is there a Harkonnen among you?”

“I believe my entourage has been placed under the protection of your ducal word.”

And again Atreides begins his bickering with the Emperor, setting a trap until he gets what he wants.

“Kanly!”

Feyd has grown tired of this.

“Your father named his vendetta, Atreides. You call me a coward while you hide among your women and offer to send a lackey against me!”

There is no black hole sun on Arrakis to steal away the color, no blades in his hand to wield against inebriated flesh, no pleasure for comfort. Only pain.

The Emperor and his truthsayer discuss the rules of kanly. Atreides’ own people try to talk him out of the challenge.

“Is the Atreides ready?” Feyd called once the Emperor’s blade sat alone on the floor, everyone else cleared away for the ritual duel.

“May thy knife chip and shatter!” Atreides forwent the ritual words, gesturing for Feyd to pick up the Emperor’s blade.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd mocked, getting a feel for the knife in his hand.

“Shall we fight, cousin?” Atreides asked, cat-footing forward with his own blade in hand, crouched low to the floor.

“How beautifully you dance,” Feyd said as they began to circle each other, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain composed as he’s reminded of a frigid sea. “Have you been shriven?”

No response. Only blue within blue.

They circle each other.

He continues his taunts, earning only a smile from Atreides as they turn. Feyd leaps at him, feinting with his right hand only to switch the knife to his left. He tries not to remember her hand in his, switching so that she’d be farther away from the cliff face and the choppy waves crashing against the frozen rocks.

“Perhaps you think this dance prolongs your life a few moments,” Feyd said, standing still and straightening.

Atreides doesn’t attack, still hesitant.

“Why prolong the inevitable? You but keep me from exercising my rights over this ball of dirt.”

In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to leave Arrakis. He wanted to return to Lankiveil where he could rule as Count, wear whale fur-lined clothes without poison needles hidden in the fabric, and look for his children among the stars.

“Why don’t you speak?”

Somehow, even with the threat of death, Atreides managed to make a fight boring.

“You smile, eh?” Feyd asked, leaping mid sentence and catching Atreides’ left arm with the downflash of his blade.

The two return to circling each other, crouching low to the floor.

“That woman you were talking to over there. The little one. Is she something special to you? A pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?”

Feyd’s chest tightens as he sees the imagined white silk dress embellished with diamonds and pearls, a cerise smile, and her hair messily done up to make room for the fur capelet tied around her shoulders.

Atreides remains silent, smiling, and Feyd leaps forward, stabbing. Feinting slowness, Atreides managed to land a cut before Feyd jumped away, switching the knife in his hands.

Again, they begin to circle each other, watching. Atreides moving his knife to his left hand to match Feyd. Blue within blue, Feyd can see her smile frozen on her face, lips turning blue and the waves rising higher.

Feyd approaches Atreides, feinting right and under, until they’re pressed against each other, knife hands straining. Atreides forces them to turn right, barely missing the poison dart flipping out from Feyd’s belt, trapping himself beneath the Harkonnen.

Even though he’s the one speaking, Feyd isn’t quite sure what he’s saying. Something about the poison dart, most likely. But staring into the Atreides’ eyes of Ibad, Feyd only thinks of the girl that would’ve been his wife. Of his first fight in the snow, the rage he felt after his brother threw his betrothed aside carelessly, over the cliffside into the frozen, rocky waves. How his father tried to stop the beast, only to be killed himself, and the two brothers were left on the cliffside alone. Breathing ragged, bleeding, and their eyes burning with unshed, frozen tears.

His hair had been long then, he’s sure Glossu ripped out part of his scalp along with a lock of his dark hair when he first tackled him. He can still see her soaked to the bone lying broken on the rocks, so drenched and frozen was she that her whale fur coat had no chance of helping, her messy hair plastered to her graying skin, lips turned blue.

“I will not say it!” Atreides gasped, stunning Feyd out of his reverie.

Atreides used the fraction of an opening to find a weakness of balance in Feyd’s leg muscles. Suddenly their positions were switched, and Feyd was partially underneath Atreides, unable to turn due to his poison needle catching on the floor, and Atreides twisted his left hand free to plunge his knife up through Feyd’s jaw and into his brain.

His body sagged to the ground, lifeless. There was no black hole sun to hide the paling of his corpse, to liken his blood to spilled ink, to steal the color of the scene.

“Feyd!” A girlish voice snapped at him.

“You’re not even paying attention,” she sighed, leaning away from him on the balcony of the lighthouse.

“Then tell me again,” Feyd said, sliding along railing to be next to her again.

Her cerise colored lips curve back into a smile as her hand dashed out to grab his jaw to force his eyes to the stars. The underside of his jaw is warmed by the soft skin of her palm, her small fingers freezing fast in the weather now that they’re not sheltered by the pocket of her coat. Still, she doesn’t move her hand, waving the other one wildly at the sky, focusing his attention on the stars as she tries to convince him that Mirzam is the perfect name for their son.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #dune x reader #dune #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen

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otherpeoplespokemon · 1 year

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#pokemon card #colorless type #rabbit #flopsy #2014

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afledglings-guideto-witchcraft · 5 months

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Updated Post. Imma be real for a sec, some of the new information that was brought to my attention is amazing and, in fact, very helpful, so I'm making an updated post to this one here.

A Beginners Guide to Crystals.

How to spot fakes (typically glass) and dyed crystals, Crystal Shapes, and Crystal Color Associations are the topics in this post.

How to spot glass, resin, and other types of fake crystals. (You can still 100% use them in witchcraft, but if you want genuine crystals, then this guide may help you do just that!)

If you think that your crystals are fake, here are some things you can look and do to tell.

Rubbing your crystal with a finger should reveal tiny pores on the surface of the crystal. If it does not have any pores and is instead completely smooth, then it's possible that it's glass or resin.

While some crystals can have naturally formed air bubbles in them, it is rare and may just be glass that was shaped into the crystal.

You can easily search up "fake crystal name" vs. "real crystal name" and compare the two pictures.

You can also look up "dyed crystals" vs. "undyed crystals" to see what a natural coloring of crystals should look like.

If you're worried that your turquoise is fake, then you can take the tip of a hot pin and press it into the crystal, if it burns then it's real, however if it starts to melt its a fake.

Opalite and Goldstone are glass crystals, man made.

9/10 times if your Crystal looks very brightly colored it could have been dyed.

I'll put in some pictures of glass/resin crystals next to the real crystals to show the difference.

Natural coloring of crystals occurs because of the different metals and other minerals that are absorbed during the creation of the crystal. Quartz is just silica and oxygen, so it's appears colorless, but when iron is absorbed, it creates purple or yellow, depending on how oxidized the iron was in the creation of the crystal.

Natural citrine does form, but it's not going to look burned or splochty.

Splotchy color in crystals usually means that it's been dyed, as you can see in the first two images. Dyed crystals also very obviously look dyed because of how brightly they are colored.

Even in Malachite, the green in the fake malachite is brighter than the genuine malachite. You can also look at the unnatural banding on the fake and compare it to real malachite.

Real opal is not see-through like Opalite is. Real opal is more clouded with spots of color, while opalite will have streaks of color or look like the see-through ones above.

Real turquoise is going to have brown or black webbings and cracks or chips, while dyed howlite is going to be smooth with brown or black inclusions. You can take a swab of acetone and rub it across the crystal to see if any coloring comes off. If the color does come off or the crystal looks lighter in the spot, then it's more than likely dyed howlite. You can also do that hot pin trick mentioned above.

The picture on the left is dyed howlite, while on the right is the natural turquoise. You can see that the natural crystal has deep webbing into the stone, very obvious cracks while the holite doesn't have cracks, only webbing that looks like it but it's going to be smooth along those lines.

Crystal Shapes in witchcraft

Double pointed- absorbs and emits energy.

Cluster- Radiates energy.

One point- concentrates and directs energy.

Raw- Strong open energy.

If the crystal is more round then the energy is going to be calmer

If the crystal has multiple points, then the energy is directed off of each point.

The size of the crystal doesn't dictate the amount of energy it gives off.

Different crystals have different energies that they give off. The ones most commonly used in witchcraft and their properties are listed below.

Clear quartz- Clarity

Amethyst- Grounding

Citrine- Happiness

Rose quartz- love

Black Tourmaline- Protection

Obsidian- also protection

Aventurine- luck

Tigers eye- money

Labradorite- aura healing and protection

There are many other crystals that give off similar energies that can be used. As stated, these are just some of the more commonly seen ones.

Now, different crystals can give off different energies depending on the person using them. Some people may see use amethyst as protection rather than obsidian or black tourmaline. Some may use aventurine for money spells over tigers eye. That's 100% okay.

Crystal Color Associations.

Color associations can depend on how the witch feels about a color. This is the general association plus how I use colors in my path.

Red- Anger/passion

Orange- Courage (or in my case repulsion)

Yellow- Happiness

Green- Luck and money

Blue- Calming or sadness (depending on the mood)

Purple- Spirituality

Brown- grounding

Pink- self love

Grey- solemn, seriousness.

With some crystals, the color is also associated with the things listed above. However, again, not all witches will use the color associations of crystals this way, and that's 100% okay. Each witch has a different path and different associations when it comes to the tools they use in their path.

If you're interested in learning about what energies different crystals give off, often just googling "what is crystal name used for in healing" and you will receive an answer.

Though with any type of research, please look at 3-5 other sources that say the same or similar thing. Though it may take more digging to come to a conclusion.

Thank you for reading the updated post, and let me know if I missed anything or if you'd like to add anything. A big thanks to everyone who has corrected the previous post on this subject and any posts that may have contained misinformation in them.

#witchcraft #fledglings guide to witchcraft #witch community #witchblr #witch topic #crystals #color association

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madjazzed · 5 days

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Intro to Alternian Biology: respiratory pigments

Like the blood of most species on Earth and Alternia, trolls' blood derives its color from metalloproteins used to transport oxygen. Unlike most species on Earth and Alternia, troll blood contains multiple types of oxygen-transport proteins--five in total.

HEMERYTHRIN is the primary oxygen-transport protein in the blood of seadwelling trolls, and is also present in significant concentrations in purplebloods. It is violet-pink when oxygenated. Much Alternian sea life uses hemerythrin as its sole or primary oxygen transport protein, as do many Earth marine invertebrates.

HEMOCYANIN is the primary oxygen-transport protein of landdwelling highbloods (blue and purple) and present in significant concentrations down to olive. It is dark blue when oxygenated. Hemocyanin is also found in the blood of many Earth mollusks and arthropods.

CHLOROCRUORIN is present in very small quantities across the hemospectrum, and in high concentrations in greenbloods; it was the primary blood pigment in limebloods, which are now extinct. Chlorocruorin is a dichromatic compound which appears light green in dilute solutions, including normal blood, and red when highly concentrated; an uncommon mutation causing extreme overproduction of chlorocruorin thus results in bright red blood. On Earth, chlorocruorin is mostly found in worms.

COBOGLOBIN is an important oxygen-transport protein in low and midblood trolls and is most highly concentrated in goldbloods, the only caste for which it is primary, with significant concentrations occurring in every hemotype from rust to teal. It is yellow-orange in color when deoxygenated. Coboglobin is the only Alternian blood protein that does not occur in Earth biology.

HEMOGLOBIN is the primary oxygen-transport protein in rustblooded trolls. The highest concentrations occur in burgundy bloods, and it is present in significant quantities in all blood castes up to olive. Fuschiabloods also have hemoglobin in relatively small but still significant quantities, notably more than in any of the other high blood castes. It is dark red when oxygenated. Nearly all Earth vertebrate species rely on hemoglobin for oxygen transport.

Additional notes:

The gray color of trolls' skin comes from black eumelanin and blue-gray carotenoproteins in the skin cells, the concentration of which increases with age. The yellow color of trolls' irises comes from yellow carotenoproteins. These are present in most troll tissues, but their color is usually masked by the darker skin pigments or the more vivid blood pigments. They do, however, contribute to the color of yellow blood, the only hemotype dominated by a transport protein which is colorless when oxygenated.

High concentrations of chlorocruorin are correlated with conciliatory impulses. Sopor slime is a highly oxygenated fluid containing significant concentrations of chlorocruorin, which give it its green color and are believed by many to contribute to its dampening effect on sleep rage and daymares, though the mechanism is not known. No surviving castes have as much as 50% chlorocruorin, while the now-extinct lime bloods had just over. Trolls with the rare cherry red mutation, however, have over 90% chlorocruorin, twice as concentrated as any other surviving caste.

It has been theorized that the cherry red mutation is a throwback to a now-extinct subspecies of troll which relied solely on chlorocrourin for oxygen transport. There were many subspecies in Alternia's evolutionary past, some more successful and widespread than others. In prehistory it is thought that none used more than one oxygen transport protein, as is typical in most planetary ecologies including Earth's. However, early hybrids benefited from the adaptive advantages of diversifying oxygen transport, and the mixing of subspecies through kleptogenetic reproductive strategies eventually resulted in the distribution of diverse respiratory pigments seen in the modern hemospectrum.

#intro to alternian biology #hemospectrum #speculative xenobiology #homestuck

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wishitweresummer · 4 months

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Now Let Me Explain (Dream x GeorgeNotFound x Sapnap)

(This is from my series Glass House!!!)

Word count: 2654

I believe this is the last part!!! This was me stepping out of my usual and writing a true lee, but I don’t have any more ideas for the concept. But I love the little world I created. A little world where Dream and Sapnap tickle George, he loves it, and George is one of us. I hope you enjoyed <3

Warning: Tickle tools and feet tickles.

George’s eyes flicked quickly between his phone and Sapnap.

“Hm…”, he murmured, watching the other boy stretch and roll on his back lazily, also on his phone. He got a hum back in question. “Just thinking.”. His eyes trailed over the words on his phone screen again. He was logged in on his @gigglygogy404 account and scrolling through a thread all about Sapnap. At first, he had felt a little spark of jealousy that it wasn’t about him. Now, he found himself with the same questions as the fans. Why didn’t he know Sapnap’s worst spot? “You’re one of my best friends.”, he spoke suddenly. Sapnap slowly looked over.

“…you’re one of my best friends too, Georgie.”, he spoke carefully, ungrounded by the unusual sweetness. George smiled and tilted his head. “Is everything okay?”.

“Yeah! Just wanted to ask some questions.”.

Sapnap locked his phone and sat up on his elbows, giving George his full attention.

“Where’s your most ticklish spot?”.

“Oh! You want tickles!”, Sapnap exclaimed, relieved. He reached for George’s side, who squealed and smacked his hand away.

“No! Idiot. I’m asking you a question! I just really don’t know. It’s important to me.”, he said through giggles.

“It’s important to you.”, Sapnap deadpanned, an edge of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t understand. In my community it’s an important thing to know about everyone. Dream’s is his tummy. And I don’t know yours.”.

The younger beamed and sat up completely, excited. George always held back a lot of this little interest he had. He looked down and sent a quick text to summon Dream. Then, he cleared his throat.

“Well. If it’s important to you then fine. I think it’s my thighs, right?”. George grinned and nodded happily, typing away at his phone.

“That makes sense!”. Sapnap could only smile fondly and shake his head, watching George. “Your thighs are so ticklish!”.

“Are you like, writing that down?”.

“There’s a little debate going on in the tickle community about you and I’m adding my secret intel.”. There was that word again; community.

Dream popped his head in.

“Hi guys! Can I join the cuddle party?”, he asked with a grin, taking in the two spread out on George’s bed.

“Yeah, get in here. George is telling me about his community.”. Dream made quick work of crawling up the bed and pulling a squirmy George back into his chest.

“Awww! Are you being talkative today?”, he asked, lips against the back of his sensitive neck. George burst into giggles.

“I don’t know! What do you guys want to know?”.

~•~

“This threads all about Sapnap. They are debating about what your worst spot is, obviously. Do you want to see some art I have saved of you?”, George smiled shyly.

“Of me? Sure.”.

Dream released George and the boy rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows before directing their attention to his phone. He opened his Photo app and selected an album labeled only with a fire and feather emoji. Sapnap tittered a little.

“This one’s my favorite.”. George selected one to make bigger. It was line art, completely colorless. George’s character was hugging Sapnap’s character from behind and nuzzling into his neck. It was a little lovey, with hearts floating above Sapnap’s head. And Sapnap was in a fit of giggles, George tickling him with the nuzzles.

“That’s cute.”, Sapnap murmured, a little embarrassed.

“Sapnap…”, Dream coo’ed. The younger ducked his forehead down onto George’s shoulder and giggled. George beamed.

“And look, this is you and Dream tickle fighting.”. He swiped over to a more colorful and cartoon-y art. Dream and Sapnap’s characters were both red-faced and laughing, both tickling each other’s sides at the same time. “Isn’t that cute?”, he asked, looking back and forth at both of them.

“Yes.”.

“Very.”. George giggled and nodded.

“Is it a little embarrassing to see this?”.

“Yeah a little, but it’s fun. I love seeing fanart. I’m really excited you’re sharing this Georgie!” George squirmed, excited. Dream and Sapnap grinned at each other over his back.

“Want to see Dream stuff? There’s a ton of Dream tickle art.”.

“Really?”, Dream scooched in closer.

George nodded and clicked over to an album labeled with a broccoli and a feather emoji.

“You’re an idiot.”, Dream said, poking George in the side to make him squeak.

“It makes sense!”, he giggled, writhing from the poke. He scrolled slowly through fanart. Dream’s character being tickled to pieces by George and Sapnap’s. But also, DreamXD, magic hands, and other characters they didn’t recognize.

George locked his phone and smirked at Dream.

“The fans want to see you get tickled so bad.”, he wiggled back into Sapnap until the younger wrapped his arms around him, then reached out and tickled Dream’s stomach.

“Hey!”, he laughed, smacking the hand away. He reached for George’s stomach, but his hand was smacked away by Sapnap’s.

“No! He’s letting me cuddle!”. All three of them giggled stupidly. George melted into the hold happily.

“Did you know Sapnap’s worst spot is his thighs?”, he asked. Dream grinned and nodded.

George smiled and tilted his head up a little, directing his question back at Sapnap.

“Do you like being tickled?”.

“No, definitely not.”, Sapnap answered quickly. George looked over to Dream.

“What about you?”. Dream shook his head ‘no’ quickly.

“I’m going to tickle you both anyway.”. Sapnap laughed and squeezed him from behind.

“We know.”, Sapnap said, amusement rich in his voice.

“…because sometimes I get into ler moods.”, he said carefully.

“What’s that?”, Dream asked.

“Think of it like…ticklelee and tickleler. So, being tickled or tickling someone else. That makes sense, right? So lee and ler. If I’m in a ler mood then I feel like tickling somebody else.”, George spoke his words slowly and carefully, like he was trying to avoid using specific words. A blush crawled up his neck as he spoke and he squirmed back into the hold. Sapnap snuggled him in closer.

“I get it. Sometimes you’re a little tickle monster. I’ve noticed that.”, he spoke into George’s hair. Dream nodded excitedly.

“Yeah!”.

“So sometimes I really really want to tickle you guys. That’s why. So…yeah!”, he smiled, apparently satisfied with his jumbled wording. The other two nodded, happy. “Can I tickle one of you now?”.

~•~

Dream decided to go first. Neither had actually been tickled for more than a short burst before. George was not making it easy.

Sapnap laid on his side with a smirk, watching the scene. George was perched on top of Dream trying to get him to keep his arms up.

“C’mon, it’s not going to be that bad!”.

“Chill out! You’re scaring me!!”, Dream said through a flurry of flustered giggles.

“I’m not even doing anything yet!”. George shot his hands down and pinched at Dream’s hips, who squealed and grabbed his wrists to pull away.

“That tickles!”, he cried.

They all laughed as Dream failed to let himself be tickled at all. As soon as he released George’s hands, they would dive back in to tickle him. In less than a second, Dream was squealing and either blocking the hands or grabbing them again.

“Stop! Please!”.

“I haven’t even tickled you!”, George laughed as he sat back a little. Dream flopped his arms over his red face and gasped for air between his flustered giggles.

“Oh my god George. I don’t know how you can stand that!.”. George’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“What? I can’t!”, he squeaked out. Dream and Sapnap laughed. “Sapnap, grab his arms.”.

In a flash, Sapnap has Dream’s wrists held tight. Before anything could even happen, Dream was giggling hysterically.

“No please no!!”, he begged. George laughed and shook two clawed hands into Dream’s tummy, making him squeal loudly. He struggled for a few seconds, but then threw his head back into the pillow and laughed wildly. He squirmed and bucked, gasping through his laughter. Sapnap and George giggled excitedly at his reaction.

“Aw, Dream! So ticklish!!”.

“Please!”, he squeaked.

It was clear Dream couldn’t really handle it, turning red as his laughter got more and more frantic. After a few more seconds, George stopped.

“That was crazy…”, Dream giggled.

As Dream recovered, George eyed down Sapnap. The older crawled off of him and moved closer to Sapnap.

“Remember when I tried using the massage gun on you and you wouldn’t let me?”. Sapnap laughed.

“Yeah! I had to safeword! Then Dream wrecked you.”.

“No, you used my safeword! Ugh, shut up.”, George giggled and tried to ruffle Sapnap’s hair, only getting his hand smacked away.

“Yeah, ‘cause it felt crazy! What? You want to try again?”, Sapnap asked. Dream popped up behind George and leaned into the conversation.

“I’ve been a little curious about one of your tools too, like after seeing your reaction to it.”, Dream added.

“Oh? Which one?”, George turned.

“The hairbrush. Like, on your. You know.”, Dream bit his tongue through his smile, suddenly embarrassed. His cheeks flamed as he took in the others’ excited looks.

“You couldn’t even handle my hands!!”, George yelled excitedly, pouncing him down on the bed. They all laughed as the two wrestled.

Dream let George win, giggling as the smaller boy threw his hands up in victory from atop him.

“I could use some tools on you guys! You wanna see what they are like right?”.

“Well…”.

“Like…”, both boys fumbled with their sentences at the same time and went silent.

“It’s okay to be curious.”, George said, softer this time. It was definitely fun to scare them, but it would be more fun if they actually let him use the tools on them. “You get safewords.”.

Slowly, they both agreed.

~•~

“Oh god I’m going to freak out…”, Dream murmured before shoving his face into the pillow he was hugging. He was on his stomach with his arms wrapped around a big pillow while George was perched on his back facing his feet.

“You got this Dream!”, Sapnap cheered teasingly. George was hovering the hairbrush over Dream’s bare sole. He was holding just one of his ankles as well as he could.

Suddenly, he scrubbed the hairbrush against the sole for about a second and a half. There was a muffled scream. In an instant, he was bucked off to the side and straight into Sapnap. Everybody laughed.

“Dream!! You threw me!!”.

“That was crazy!! What the fuck?!”, Dream said through his giggles. He rolled over and grabbed his own foot, rubbing at the ticklish tingles left behind.

“I barely even did it!”.

“George, you can’t do that again. I don’t know how I didn’t kick you!”.

“What! But, Dream!!”, George whined, untangling himself from Sapnap. George dove for Dream and they wrestled, full of giggles. “You won’t hurt me! I’ll be careful!!”.

“No way!!”.

“I’ll hold him.”, Sapnap added, smirking. The two looked over to find him with the hairbrush, waving it in the air. He gestured it at Dream. “I can make sure you don’t hurt him. Dream only whined.

It took a while to get Dream into position again. He was much squirmier now that he knew what the dreaded hairbrush would feel like.

“I’m nervous!”, he squeaked out as he felt Sapnap get a good hold on his legs.

“Breathe Dream, you can do this!”, Sapnap coo’ed. It was far too teasy to be sincere.

“I’ll go for five seconds, okay? You can handle that, right?”, George asked.

“I-um. Okay. Five seconds. Yeah, I can try that.”, he stuttered, barely holding his nervous giggles at bay.

“Alright!”.

The hairbrush was pressed back into his sensitive sole and scrubbed, forcing a scream out of him before he even knew what he was doing.

“5…4…”, George started. It tickled. Dream hugged the pillow and thrashed against the hold on his lower half, but it was no use. He screamed with laughter, helpless. It was bad. It was so so bad. Surely he wouldn’t survive th-

“Dream we are done!”, Sapnap’s voice was in his ear. He hadn’t registered that he was free.

“Wow, you’re so ticklish Dream!!”, George giggled happily. He rolled over and flopped weakly onto his back, still a little lost in the breathless giggles. “Now you know what it feels like! Do you like it?”.

“That was really intense.”, Dream shook his head. He calmed his giggles, but the smile was harder to shake. George was just so happy. George crawled over and ruffled his sweaty curls.

“It like, clears out your mind. All you can focus on is how much it tickles.”, George supplied shyly, smiling.

Dream grinned up at George, understanding a little more. Before he could speak though, George was snatched back into a bear hug from Sapnap.

“Oh Georgie!!”, he dragged out the name happily as he forcibly hugged the struggling boy to his chest. “You just like being made all silly!! No thoughts in your head!!! Just…tickle tickle tickle!”, he suddenly attacked George’s sides with tickles. The boy screeched as he squirmed in the hold.

“No!!!”, he cried out through his laughter.

Dream watched them fight, feeling lighter. It wasn’t the tickling, though. It was getting to understand George a little better. After all these years, there’s still more to learn about each other. He grinned as George squealed, unable to get away from Sapnap’s mischievous fingers.

~•~

It took a bit for the three to calm down for Sapnap’s turn. While Dream seemed sapped of energy, Sapnap was bouncing off the wall.

“I’m scared!”, he declared. All three of them giggled.. “Gogy went crazy when we did this to him. You can’t do it for long!!”.

“Only five seconds!”, George assured.

“Oh my god!”, Sapnap squealed out in fear. Dream hugged him back into his chest and laid down more, leaving George to perch on his calves. “This is so scary!”.

George grinned that Cheshire Cat smile, all teeth and bite. With Sapnap, there was less sweetness and more playfulness. Dream worried George wouldn’t stop, so he had promised Sapnap he would count as well.

The massage gun was turned on, making Sapnap squeak. His thigh trembled as George brought the vibrating head closer and closer. When contact was made, Sapnap threw his head back against Dream in a silent scream. He bucked uselessly up into George’s weight and his leg twitched back and forth. The tickling was absolutely maddening, pulling a yelp from his chest before the five seconds was up. A hysterical sounding laughter boomed out of him at the four second mark, and kept going after George had already stopped.

“Please please please!!!”, he babbled through his laughter. The ghosts of vibrations shook through his legs still, driving him crazy. It was a while before he stopped laughing. The boys cuddled him until he calmed down. “That was nuts, George.”, he mumbled. The wobbly smile on his face was precious, making George nuzzle into his neck in fondness. “How do you stand that?”.

“I can’t stand it, Sappy. It’s torture.”, he replied quietly.

A sneaky blush crawled up George’s neck and cheeks. It was a little embarrassing; being known. The two already tortured him on a regular basis, and now they have a better idea of just what exactly they are putting him through. The shocking feeling of being tickled that they knew he craved. They knew now just how intense some of the sensations he endured were. He kept his face in Sapnap’s neck and they all relaxed together.

It was silly, his embarrassment. They had all been through so much. Still, when he came up and found Dream nailing him with a knowing smirk, he shoved his face right back into his hiding spot. But, a smile broke through. Excitement iced his veins.

Feelings are complicated and George could never find the words to explain himself. Yet here he was, known.

#happy holidays btw <3 #lee!georgenotfound #lee!dream #lee!sapnap #ler!georgenotfound #ler!dream #ler!sapnap #dream team tickle #dnn tickle #glass house #the end probably #I hope you guys liked this series!!!

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