Tearenere - Blog Posts

i do not fear ridicule. i never have. ( Gojo and Nagumo )

@tearenere

‘ well, surrendering it won’t be of much help, either. i say pick your poison. ’

always terse. always mocking. it’s become a ritual to them, this back and forth exchange of mild amusement and mild sarcasm. satoru’s especially fond of the times when nagumo is less forgiving, when the words cut deep like knives on tender flesh. morbid comparison. before his mind loses its tracks, satoru lets out a big exhale, shoulders hunched in a dramatic gesture as long legs catch up to nagumo’s pace on the sidewalk.

‘ what’s it to you, though? never thought you’d be the type to worry about that sort of thing. unless you’re hiding your cute self. are you a tsundere? ’ he says with a grin.

lamp lights haloed their shapes, two tall men moving through the crowd. blending with their surroundings comes easy in the anonymity provided by the rush-hour waves made of tired salarymen, students, workers of all kinds returning to their homes. they stop by the intersection, lights turning red.

engines rev up. cars begin to move.

‘ pride’s just as important as power. you can’t really separate one from the other. isn’t that scary? strength that doesn’t make you proud is a burden. if you’re raised to become a weapon or a top class assassin, the very least you should do is to have something to show for it. for pride’s sake. otherwise that’d just be a pretty empty life. ’

the red man changes its color, turning to neon green. satoru takes a couple steps, notices that nagumo isn’t moving from his place and turns around, head tilts slightly to the side.

‘ you’re not coming? ’

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver. ( Gojo and Nagumo )

truth be told, neither are in any position to be wasting time cleaning up the mess, and by mess he means this: blood-splattered clothes, indented weapons, empty cartridges. his mouth fills with the metallic aftertaste of it all, muscles finally itching as if to ask for attention and to be wrapped and tended by the same cloth that nagumo used on satoru’s cheek. (he makes it his life purpose to catch the asshole that bruised his face)

‘ you’re good at this, i didn’t think you’d actually take me seriously and mend the wounds. guess i owe you one. ’

in the span of one second, the atmosphere shifts into something more… comfortable, whatever comfortable was. for men of their profession, anything remotely close to peace is a far-fetched dream, so he snatches the moment and makes it his own, eyelids coming down and encapsulating sky-blues from the world, albeit briefly. nagumo’s presence is still palatable, impossible to ignore.

his fingers move methodically and almost as impersonal as the moment a knife slices through a target’s throat. if there’s something to respect about the man is exactly this: the commitment to his brand, expertise that’s only attained from the perfect combination of talent and a life on the field and not behind the monotony of a desk and a computer, aiding or sending out orders to the souls on the front. 

cold liquid presses against his temple, the aching propels him forward, hands wrapped tightly around nagumo’s wrists.satoru’s eyes snap open, ‘ whoa! what was that?! are you trying to kill me? i thought we said no ethyl alcohol. ’

@tearenere

‘ dodge me then. ’ he stands in position, legs flexed and all spidery and the next thing nagumo knows is that he's under attack.

boop boop boop boop boop

Cue an exaggerated, immature dry heave as he's booped by @einshi . " Stop! I don't want to catch whatever is wrong with you. "