#Kanenes fic

[kanene-yaaay]

The Benefits of a Restful Sleep (and other things that a friend can help you with)

Kanene's notes: In my defense, Dogday is way too cute and kind. That was his mistake. Now I just HAD to make an entire story where he is alive and the Player is both the most stubborn bean ever and the biggest softie to set a foot in the factory. That is it. That is the entire story. Warnings: Mentioned death as a form of reset, angst and mention of injury and blood. It's discussed but not too deeply and isn't the main plot of the story. Raspberries, nibbles, lots of teasing, hurt/comfort and roothing fluff. Reader is adressed with they/them. Around 9.500 words. Heavily inspired by @fluffymary 's wonderful, incredible stories. Take a look at them too :D

[~*~]

You were exhausted.

That was a problem.

Sure, tiredness wasn’t really a new feeling in your life when you looked at the big scheme of things. Even before you went back to your old workplace, it used to cling on your bones, to fill your mind with memories and to pull your spirits down at any time of the day when a kid’s laughter or flowers would remind you of everything you tried so hard to leave behind.

(And look where you are now.)

The constant ‘fighting for your life’ thing also hasn't been helping a lot lately. Adrenaline and the will to keep on living were perfect for the battles but could only get you so far when the feeling of danger and fear scrutinized all of your steps, stalking in any and every corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. Days and hours became a total mess and the longer you spent on exploring and surviving, the more and more things that were once important started to fade to a background thought in your head.

Food was one of them. Water. Sleep. The debris and destruction brought a lot of memories and enemies but hardly a safezone where you could actually sit down, breathe and rest for a bit. It was fine, though. The solution was simple and quick. 

Dying.

Sounded harsh when you thought about it in that way, to be honest. 

Resetting. 

Or something like that.

Not during a fight, of course. After the first couple of times, it quickly became annoying and no fun at all to have to experience all the chase and… other things more than once. However, on other occasions, missteps into an abyss happen and sometimes a bad calculation using the grabpack could be fatal (and more frequent than you should admit.) 

You couldn’t deny its convenience. In a blink you would wake up, not hungry, thirsty or exhausted, a few meters behind your previous location and then you would be ready to go until the pain of hunger or the feeling of being in a brick of passing out appeared once again.

It was not the best, you knew, but it was a good enough solution. 

It was fine.

(It was fine.) 

Especially now, when you have someone else depending on you to survive. Saving Dogday had been tricky and much, much harder than the alternative. Keeping him alive after that, during the smiling critters chase and the aftermath, even more so. None of this didn’t really matter, though. It was worth it. 

The beginning had been tougher. With all the emotions, the changes, pain (and how to keep going after all of that), going back to Home Sweet Home and getting into more trouble trying to turn on all the generators. The fact that, not very longer after getting into the Daycare, you found a new, clean fabric and a set of tools to take care of Dogday’s injuries was the perfect help, even if the coincidence of that encounter had bordered on a miracle that made your skin prickle in discomfort as you had stared at the sewing kit localized (placed) just a few meters away from you two. There was no way that this could have been accidental. 

(Ever since you set a foot in this factory not a single encounter, voice, tape or battle seemed a coincidence and the fear of the image that this puzzle was creating haunted your every choice.)

Nevertheless, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though Dogday stayed unusually quiet for a really long time after his injuries were taken care of, he still insisted on using it despite both of your strong suspicions, not wanting to be a ‘burden’, anymore.

You disagreed strongly with that word, of course. Not only because his knowledge of the place and the little shortcuts or hidden spaces had been essential both to escape from the hungry toys and to make your path confusing enough to mislead any pursuers you had was essential to your survival, but also because… 

Damn. 

You just really missed this.

Chatting. Having someone truly by your side. No second intentions or guesses or working around to earn a couple of moments of dialogue. Just a companionship and a fighter if needed, someone bright who could, just with their presence and company, help to keep your focus and your objectives in mind. 

Dogday’s voice was raspy and rough but his words were light and kind. He would insist on calling you ‘angel’ and gesture excitedly around when he was talking, pulling your attention back when you began losing yourself in your thoughts. He would help solving the complicated puzzles spread through the factory and hold your hand tight to hide the tremble of his own paws when you both went through somewhere too dark. He would joke and hold and help and you wished you could put in words how no trouble in the world could make his presence here not worth it. 

That is why you couldn’t afford passing out right now. That is why you kept pulling one foot after the other and continued your path to the end of this hell.

Unfortunately, the very reason that kept you moving forward was the same one blocking you from actually managing to reset your body and get over that tiredness.

The fact that Dogday cared.

He was smart and quite smooth too. That was clear after all the times he would ‘accidentally’ get in front of you when you managed to step a bit too close from a deepless hole or how he would suddenly remember a shortcut that would have you to deviate from the giant abyss you had been eyeing for a few moments ago or when he distracted you as he followed another direction, a light pull on your wrist and a inviting conversation on the tip of his tongue, the pit getting farther and farther away.

It was a bit endearing, you couldn’t lie.

However, when a badly placed hand of your grabpack successfully made you slip from a fatal high and you only had time to listen to a surprised yelp (or more like a ‘yap’?) before a giant orange arm held you close to a fluffy chest you were actually torn between hitting something in frustration and melting in the warmth.

Dogday smiled, looking down. 

“Ops, you almost fell in there, angel.” His eyebrow was crooked and his expression filled with tension and confusion. Yep. He definitely realized what was going on. That kind of sucks.

He started heading the other direction, taking a different path to where you were going. “You‘re really tired, aren’t you? Saving everyone must cost a lot of energy.” His eyes softened. You struggled to keep yours open, body inevitably relaxing with his voice and kind touch. “And, well, I don’t think you had a lot of opportunities to rest since you got here too, right? Ehehe. That is… a bit worrisome. Humans need plenty of sleep and we have been walking for a long time already!”

You have survived longer without it. It was fine. There were more generators that had to be turned on before anything else. Those were your priorities.

Dogday acknowledged the end of your sentence before shaking his head vehemently, his ears flopping around in an endearing way. 

“The generators have been turned off for a long time now, a few more hours won’t hurt. You are our priority, angel.” Dogday tried to not let his tail wag in adorableness when he pulled you closer to his chest and you let your head and eyelids fall with a really tiny, quiet sound for a moment too long before opening them and watching him in a stubborn manner. “And I think I know somewhere where we can hide for long enough before continuing.” 

He watched as you deviated your gaze, thoughtful. Almost there.

“Besides, my kind angel” he let his posture go, just a little. The exhaustion from… everything showing from the light of his eyes to the darkness of his mouth. Trusting had been what got him stuck but also what freed him. He could offer this human a bit more of it. “I-I really think I need time to recover. Sometimes it just… hurts.”

He looked down and you didn’t need to follow his gaze to get what he was saying.

Oh.

Oh.

That was what settled it. You nodded. But he had to put you on the ground. 

You kept your expression firm and ignored his playful chuckle and the way he only pulled you closer with your words, because if he kept holding you, there was no way you would not fall asleep instantly and you both couldn’t afford that until he got to that safe place.

With a huff and a beginning of a pout he acquiesced and put you on the cracked floor, getting your point. He had to hide his snickers with his paw when you wobbled on the same spot for a second before eventually gathering your strength back, feeling a million times more tired. 

Urg. Relaxing was a mistake.

“Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here. We will get there in no time!” 

(...)

Took longer than he expected for you to finally lay down, but it was worth it. The place was one of the old dorms so there were a lot of pillows and mattresses thrown around, a few somewhat still holding a good condition for use. With the help of some furniture and moving around, you managed to barricade the door and build a sort of nest hidden in a farther corner so that it would be really difficult to notice through any window. 

The human seemed ready to pass out at any moment, yawning and giving the door a last look, watching every creek and tear on the walls for anything that could be dangerous, even after all their previous care to make this place as safe as possible. Silly dear.

Dogday has always prided himself in being perceptive. Both because of the kids he once needed to watch and take care of and also because it’s important to notice and understand the details around your teammates so he would know when to help them.

(Old habits die hard, as it seems.)

And, yeah, maybe it had something to do with how long he spent without seeing a human or how he missed having someone (anyone-) who cared so much around. But he couldn’t really help to watch, prod and pick every little detail and gesture of yours around as if he was collecting flowers in a garden. Humans were so… expressive, and this one wasn’t different at all. 

Angel was fierce and determined, going silently and non stop through the facility and all their objectives with a focused mind and precise movements. Their senses and general environmental awareness were good, too, catching hints and dangers just a second or two after Dogday himself caught them, which, considering their small ears and eyes, was an incredible feat. 

Still, like a true angel, strength and kindness walked side by side with them. Dogday didn’t say that only because that person was the literal reason he was alive today, but simply because it was clear as water how much of a true softie you were inside. It was in the way they fired only around the small smile critters, avoiding to actually burn and kill them (even though he didn’t really know how he should feel about it), on how they carried and treated his wounds and how all their features - tensed, anxious and angry - softened everytime they looked at him. 

It was on the way that they walked slower to accompany him, amusing his rambles with pokes of fun and interesting additions and in how each touch or word was filled with tenderness and respect. He didn’t feel like a toy with them like some old employers had made him feel before or a failure as… others made him believe.

So, his companionship was extremely captivating and maybe that was why it hadn’t been really hard to notice how the little tiny hints and actions came together to form a quite worrisome image of how disregarding about their own safety they were. Jumping into fights, crawling into dangerous, small spaces without thinking twice (he couldn’t get them there, if he needed he couldn’t get them there-), following strangers’ orders and running over cliffs as if their life wasn’t the thing that mattered the most and Dogday would always be there to catch them when they fell.

(What did they use to do when he wasn’t?)

Even now, he huffed as the human slowly took off the grabpack while still not even lowering themselves on the mattress or trying to get comfortable even though they seemed ready to slip into unconsciousness at any time now. Alert to the very last second.

It felt a bit nostalgic, if he was being honest. At least helping someone to go to sleep was a kind of problem that he knew how to solve. 

With no further ado, he let himself fall on the soft pile with a ‘oof’, slowly rolling around the cleanest pillows they found and hugging the mattress as a loud, relaxed sighing fled from his mouth. His entire body seemed to untense with the unexpected comfortable feeling. How long had it been since he could just enjoy being surrounded by softness and safety like this?

His tail began contently thumping on the pile, another sigh leaving his mouth and making him forget for a moment his objective as he rolled more and more on the spot, the pure feeling of bliss taking over his senses until the sound of amused chuckles brought him back to reality.

He opened his eyes only to find an incredibly fond gaze looking right back at him. The absurd weight that haunted his friend’s shoulders seemed to have disappeared for a moment and, if he really concentrated enough on those kind eyes, it was like the rest of the world became unfocused. That is right! Dogday shook his head, as if cleaning it from his distracting thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish! Get the human to rest! No more fooling around!

“Hmmmm, It’s so, so, sooo comfy here!” Dogday controlled his voice so his playful tune wouldn’t show too much and give away his plan. He got a pillow and shoved his face on it just to highlight his words. “Like a kingdom made of clouds, where all the citizens get to lay down and rest all day, everyday and their favorite hobby is to cuddle and snuggle. Sounds like a nice place, don’t you think?” 

You agreed, snorting when two expectanting lights turned around and Dogday patted the spot right beside him, only smiling bigger when you pretended to roll your eyes and finally, finally, laid down, barely touching the pile before your body crumbled the rest of the way.

It was… really soft. Even more than you expected from such old furniture but that could be the exhaustion talking. A relieved groan filled the place and before you could process that it came from your lips two arms came and carefully pulled you to a bunch of even softer fluff, which automatically made you snuggle closer, hugging the pillow (friend?) and relaxing, body aching with how much tension flew away from it so quickly.

A sweet voice said something in the background, but all of your senses melted together with your muscles when a hand began rubbing your back, drawing light circles on your spine and following it to your neck, briefly massaging it before going back to the back rubs.

That nice voice kept talking and you could briefly distinguish the words ‘deserve’, ‘rest’ and ‘good’ before the hand got a bit too close to your side and you giggled. The hand stilled but it was okay, it just tickled, that is all. No need to stop. 

This was really nice, you kind of missed it. 

You snuggled more.

All of it. It’s been a while.

As the darkness of the unconsciousness started taking you away, an amused, fond ‘aww’ was the last thing you heard.

(...)

You woke up with a scare.

Nothing necessarily happened, but your body immediately tensed, in alert. Blurry eyes traveled with speed around the room in search for any kind of movement, the silence helping to amplify the sound of any enemy that could be closer. 

One second, two seconds…all you could pick up was the paused, calm snoring of Dogday still being deeply asleep.

Right. Safe. You were both safe.

You let go of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, blinking rapidly to scare the sleep out of your sight as you looked up, mind finally getting time to grasp the memories from last… (night? hours? day? irrelevant). The quick beating of your heart started to slow down to a normal pace and you laid down again on the mattress, now wide awake.

Dogday was still sleeping. That was good. He deserved all the peaceful rest he could get after everything that happened.

And, to be honest, it was quite amusing to watch him sleep. Each time he snored his big ears flopped just the slightest bit around and from time to time those little muffled barks would appear on the back of his throat and his tail would wag a bit, not so different from a real dog.

(He truly was a marvel of science.)

At one time you could almost swear he said a name, but it was so low that you couldn’t quite catch it.

Beyond all of that, you couldn’t deny how right Dogday had been, resting really did wonders to your body and mood. You could feel your mind clearer and your muscles less stiff, even if still quite sore. Also, it was made in a rush, that is true, but the soft pillow pile really was comforting enough that it didn’t make it any easier to get up and go on about your day.

Still, as always, there was work to do. It really wouldn’t hurt to get up in the vents and walk around a bit to see if there was any murder toy wandering close so you could attract them away before they could interrupt Dog’s sleep. 

It wasn’t anything really that urgent, however,… It felt weird not doing anything in this place, to deliberately choose to stay instead of to move. Letting your guard down last night had been literally the only thing you could do with how exhausted you were and having a trustful friend close by your side, but now? When you were more rested and nowhere close to the exit? The jittery feeling was already catching up to you. 

You tried to get up, only to be stopped by an arm closing on your midriff, a nose being pressed on the top of of head and nuzzling it with care before a raspy voice - you really needed to find some kind of oil or toolbox to help with his voicebox, sometimes it felt like he was always with a sore throat - glitched for a half second before coming to life in a quiet, slurred “Angel?”

Good morning, sleepy beauty.

Dogday huffed in amusement. Silence washed over you both once again.

A while passed and no more words were exchanged. Uh, probably went back to sleep already. You tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold. 

“Mm? What happened?” Dogday yawned, sounding a bit more awake this time. “Do we have to go?” He propped himself in one elbow, using his enormous height to peak over the hiding place and watch the door and windows, ears perking up in a search of any strange sound. “I’m not listening to any danger. This is a good spot.”

You agreed, feeling a tad bad that you woke up your companionship unnecessarily with your unrelenting thoughts. Nothing really happened, you assured, he could go back to sleep if he wanted. You could stay with the guarding shift.

Rubbing his eyes and yawning more, the sentient toy then changed his focus to you, noticing the slight drop in your tune, mind becoming clearer as he added to that detail the stiffness that went back in your shoulders. His brain tried to connect the dots.

“Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?”

No, not really. 

“What happened?”

It’s all just… too much thoughts. You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep like this, not without a distraction. It would be the best if you got something to do, so he could go back to his nap. It was fine, you would stay awake in guard.

“I see.”

He laid back down, however, instead of letting you go and immediately go back to sleep, as you expected, he began massaging your shoulders, mouth turning into a pout when that didn’t make you melt completely in blissful slumber like last night, but at least got some of the tension out. 

Even if it felt like the human continued to hold onto every last drop of stress for some reason, refusing to close their eyes or fully relax. Knowing their current situation, Dogday could understand. But still, his friend should be able to enjoy this little chance of a rest that they’ve got. They were both so tired and finally had a good place to spend some good old lazy time without being worried about running for their lives or seeing nightmares at each blink of eyelids. It was not the best spot that the factory could once offer, of course, yet nowadays it was like a piece of heaven.

He wished he could help his angel to enjoy it. Yesterday they seemed so happy. But unless he could think in a good distraction…

A sudden thought then popped in his head, a memory from what happened the previous night. An idea.

Hm.

“Sunshine, do you like games?”

Games? Like… hide and seek or catch? 

Dogday nodded, looking eager. 

Yeah, you did. Even so, you don’t think that making up some ruckus will be good to keep up their hidden spot, well, hidden.

“No, no! This one doesn’t involve running or anything that could give up our location. Actually, you won’t even need to move from where you are to play it.”

Really? Well, it was worth a shot, then. 

“Alright. Do you remember what happened when we found those old rags in one of the corridors a few days ago?”

Yes, you did.

You watched as Dogday chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t and, with a crooked eyebrow, you stared at him, trying to remember the mentioned moment better. 

Nowadays his fur was no longer the bright orange that it once was like the old cardboards and tv episodes showed, but at least it got a resemblance of a cleaned state after using some good-enough rags you found on the way to one of the generators. You both did the best to take out the debris, dust and blood from him. It took longer than it should because the taller toy kept squirming and wiggling around in an adorable inescapable fit of giggles, not really being a big help as, in between his laughter, he kept claiming that it really, really tickled. 

As a good friend, of course, you just grabbed the rag he let fall after a bit of lil cleaning on his poor ticklish tummy and racked both hands up and down his sides, scribbling away while he hid his smile behind hands, muffling his loud crackles. The cleaning didn’t stop there and hunted each tiny spot and slight hint of dust off him with plenty of scratches, prodding and drumming everywhere your hands could reach, catching all the titters, snickers and snorts that danced in the rhythm of your fingers. Your own giggles did not take much longer to follow them. 

Dogday’s paw continued to run in a light touch on your back and suddenly a bolt of electricity jolted you up when your mind connected the memory of his playful demisse to what he just said.

Your eyes widened and his expression opened into a smirk, sensing the very same moment you got to the conclusion that you were about to get absolutely and utterly destroyed with tickles.

You tried pushing him away, one hand twisting behind to catch his wrist as the other hand fought to snatch his free one, which kept flying away from yours in a game of mouse and cat. 

“Wait, angel!” He couldn’t help but laugh, especially as your movements got more and more uncoordinated the longer they kept this little game, even before he truly attempted to do anything. A wobbly smile was already taking over your face, only growing bigger when every swipe he did in your direction - only to be deflected by your hands - made your entire skin tingle and prickle in anticipation. Each adorable reaction only assisting in making Dogday more determined that he choose the right distraction. “Don’t you want to know about the game? I bet that you will love it! I used to play and win all the time so I can teach you every special trick of mine.”

No, no, no, no! You knew exactly what he was doing! There was no such thing as a game!

“Gasp!” You were sure that Dogday would be dramatically putting a hand on his chest if it wasn’t for the rough housing, but sudden noise was successful to break your concentration. He used his trapped hand to sneak a quick jab on your side, ripping out a delightful screech before you slammed your back again on the mattress, both hands now in front of you, no longer moving, yet still ready to defend and attack. “I would never lie to you, my beautiful, beautiful beacon of light, the only and one sunshine, my angel.”

He was not going to succeed in distracting you again with those sugary sweet nicknames! You knew exactly what he was doing and you wouldn’t let him get you.

“No, no, you got me wrong, angel.” Dogday booped your nose, seeming like he couldn’t control himself with excitement and a smug kind of joy that only grew the longer you both stared at each other, waiting for the moment to strike. His tail wagged and he pretended to lounge at your stomach, stopping inches before touching it and drinking the way that a squeal escaped from your mouth, body stuck into a position between laying down and curling on itself, giggles quickly filling the room. Actually, you could feel yourself getting giddier at each second, completely aware that there was no way for you to get out of this and no other option besides wait for the next attack.

The way that this thought only made butterflies go crazy on your belly should be illegal.

Dogday continued as if nothing happened. “This isn’t the game. The game only starts when I start to tickle you, silly! And it is called ‘Try To Not Laugh’.” He managed to waltz through your defenses, his index finger and thumb catching your side in a grip way too light to even be considered a pinch. It made you try to squirm with a snort to the other direction, as if he just had unleashed a ruthless attack of squeezes on the spot. 

His grin glimmered and he let you go, chuckling. You could feel the phantom touch still. 

(Why did his paws have to be so fuzzy!?) 

“It means that you can’t giggle, squeal, snicker, chuckle, snort, chortle, shriek or laugh! No matter how much it tickles, itches or ‘feels funny’.” Dogday counted each reaction pulling up a finger and you tried to not let your face melt as he just kept talking, looking more and more delighted with how each word seemed to make you twitch on the spot, his paws clawing in your direction when he was done. 

Before you could think, he went for your neck, fingertips barely, just the slightest bit, grazing the skin before you catched his wrists and pushed them away, scrunching your neck as tiny tickly sparks spread like fire across your nerves. A sound akin to a keysmash left your lips and Dogday looked like you had just given him the best news of his entire existence.

He tilted his head and watched his own captured paws for a piece of moment before shrugging. He continued on with his explanation.

“In turn I will try my true best to make you laugh. And that can mean anything! I can fill your entire cute neck with aaaaall the raspberries that it could ever want, wiggle my claws on your ticklish armpits, play your ribs like a very lovely piano, squeeze your sides non stop until you’re dancing around like a wiggly worm, maybe even give your tummy a few scratches and scribbles, or, or even better! I can play ‘This little piggy’ with your toes over and over again until your sweet laughter fills this entire room like the sweetest melody. And then we can do it all over but with you giggling and snickering ringing free the entire time! Doesn’t it sound like a fun idea, my angel?”

Oh, you were going to die. Whether he decided to tickle you right away or keep the teases for who knows how long, you don’t think that your face would survive being under so much heat for so long.

Besides, this is not fair at all! He will win it anyway, you couldn’t hold on your laughter forever while he t-, while he attacks you.

“Aww, but, sunshine, tickling is hardly an attack!” His face got closer and suddenly you realized that he did not need any free hand to accomplish his first promise of tickles. 

With wide eyes you tried to roll away, but to do so, you would have to let his paws go, and you knew very well that the moment this happened, it would be a game over for you. For the way that Dogday grinned in your direction, he reached the same conclusion as well. “Also, I can’t even touch you, right now! I think you can win this.” Dogday wiggled his paws in your hold, as if proving his point. 

With (an eager) trepidation, you watched as his face continued to get closer, prying a couple of titters when his floppy, fuzzy ears brushed your own ears. He chuckled at your reaction, a mix of fondness and playful, fake frustration painting his words. “Sunshine, you’re already giggling? I will have to take my last words back, then, I don’t think this game will last too long, anymore.” 

Oh ho ho, he should just wait, because when you get him back you then he was going to see who was-

Dogday shoved his face on the crook of your neck and immediately began nuzzling the spot without a worry in the world, successfully cutting your threat short.

Wait! Wait!

“Don’t mind me, angel, please continue.” He huffed and puffed on the spot, shivers running in a hilarious cacophony across your every sense, almost ripping a squeal from your lips. Actually, just like his words hitting the skin, you could feel the way that snickers began pooling in your throat, waiting for any tiny chance to escape. You clamped your mouth shut, a muffled snort taking over. You were going to at least try to hold them in and try your chances at winning this childish game, for your own pride, if nothing else. 

He didn’t have his paws to tickle, right? I mean, how bad could it really be?

Dogday hummed, each word vibrating on the skin in an almost unbearable manner, making you want to jump away and at the same time let yourself get lost in the sensations. “What were you saying, angel? Please, don’t stop because of me! You know I always love to hear what you have to say.”

You shook your head, partially in an attempt to somehow escape from the tickling and partially to dissipate the energy that was building up on your system. Anything to not focus on the snickers bouncing freely in your chest.

“No? Not a word? Aw.” You could feel the fake pout the sentient toy did right before letting his features go back to that dangerous, mischievous grin. “I have a question for you, then! Do you know what is the tickle puppy favorite’s fruit?”

You knew a trap when you saw one, so you kicked your legs, trying and failing to let out any protest because you were sure that if you stopped pressing your lips in a tight line for even half of a second, there would be no stopping from the waterfall of laughter.

“Raspberries!”

A shriek almost made you lose when he unleashed the first raspberry, more and more of them being quick to follow right after. On the base of your neck, your collarbone, under your chin and in every inch on the unprotected spot. There was nowhere safe from the awfully buzzing that made every other feeling disappear, seeing to tickle every nerve and making tingles to run crazy in absolutely everywhere. He even grazed the back of your ears with a couple of raspberries, cooing when you tried to shrink and hide the spot by pressing them on your shoulder, only succeeding to leave the other side of your neck completely free for more nuzzles and tickles, an opportunity that Dogday was fast to take, taking turns in bashing every side of your neck in a tickly attention. 

Another quiet, muffled squeak painted the air.

Dogday lifted his head again, entire demeanor completely melting for a piece of time when he saw you (oh my stars, look at this amazing smile!) before that joyful light was back in his eyes. Once more, he tried wiggling his paws out of your hold, but your grip continued to be as firm as ever, your wobbly smile shining in a challenge.

Oh, you’re just so fun!

“Gasp! It seems like I am stuck! Oh no, angel, what will I do now?” His gaze then traveled to your stomach, and all the hints that softness had ever been present in his features instantly evaporated as his face became something more playful, even a tad devilish, with a hint of hunger. 

“My, my,” you didn’t exactly know why, but his voicebox glitched, jumping between a light taunting tune and his usual lower one. “Is that a delicious tummy that I see? Poor thing, it must be so cold to be shaking like this. Well, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help, huh?”

Your friend was quite tall and kind of clumsy when he walked around, too. Now, how that clumsy toy was able to, in a span of less than a blink, take a gigantic breath and immediately attack your stomach with it was a true mystery that you didn’t had a lot of time to think about when your entire body took a screenshot for a long, long second, ticklish sensations exploding in a frenzy, before your entire torso instinctively beginning to trash, loud peals of laughter jumping freely on the tip of your tongue, begging to be free. They cheered in excitement and only grew stronger when other smaller raspberries took their turn to explore every spot, every sensitive creek or place of your stomach, breaking more and more of your barriers, little by little. It took every single ounce of strength to not lose the game right here and there.

Dogday didn’t even pretend to be holding back, anymore. Right as you survived another tiny raspberry that got way too close to your side to be an accident, a nibble appeared, catching you so out of guard that it made your arch your back, legs kicking with adrenaline. But the tickly, light nibbles weren’t diverted, intertwining with tiny raspberries in a mischievous dance that increased your internal laughing into a tenfold.

That was when one of them hit the spot closer to your bellybutton and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands let go of his wrists to push his stupid smiling - so proud and so bright - face away, body squirming and eyes crinkling on the corners with mirth.

“I am free!” He laughed, pretending to not hear the tiny low titters flying from your mouth as you regained your strength, taking the breather as what it was. His ears twitched with every cute little giggle and he kind of wanted to immediately go back to bash every sweet, soft spot in tickles you until that beautiful laughter was ringing loud and free across the entire room and that soft, relaxed state you were in became so much common that he wouldn’t see you stressed ever again.

But he was going to wait for you to rest a tadbit first, that was the main objective of their game, afterall.

Feeling calmer, you looked at your friend, who jolted in the same place, seeing to get out of a trance. He recovered quickly and lifted his paws, easily slipping into the tickle monster persona as he slowly clawed in your direction.

“Now that my hands are free, I wonder where I should attack next…” He looked thoughtful, slowly bringing his paws closer and closer to your torso, wiggly fingers softly scrapping the ticklish skin, but not really drumming on it, not yet. “Maybe I should try your armpits first? Aw, but you were so jumpy when I squeezed your side that one time! And you seemed really excited when I mentioned tickling your ribs… Ah! So many options, so many options… We will have to try every single one of them, of course. What do you think, my giggly angel? Which one do I tickle first?”   

None! Absolutely none of them!

“None?” He tilted his head, knowing very well how cute he looked like when he did that. “But then … Oh! I see!” Dogday snapped his fingers and you were pretty sure that if this was a cartoon a lamp would appear shining right above that absolute, silly, mean, goofball. “You want me to tickle your legs!” 

What!

At your wide stare and sputtering pretenses of protests his smirk turned sharp, which didn’t quite help the anticipatory bolts of electricity that suddenly left you feeling even more ticklish than usual, trying to curl and hide your legs but feeling him dig more on your torso every time you did so. He continued. “That is why you didn’t stop kicking and squirming the entire time I was tickling your neck and tummy, right? Aww, sunshine, if you wanted my attention so much, you could’ve just asked!”

That was literally not the reason at all! Dogday!!

He hummed in an answer, turning around and easily pinning your legs by holding your ankles down, his touch so gentle that you were pretty sure that if you really wanted and struggled you could escape from it.

(And if that didn’t make everything even more endearing, you honestly didn’t know what would.)

Without wasting any more time, Dogday started squeezing the sensitive spot right above your kneecap, skillfully jumping from one leg to another unexpectedly, digging on the skin and following your leg around with no problem as a new round of kicks started once again, keeping up with the tickling. The ticklish sensations made your head spin, tingles spreading across your muscles and teasing all the nearest tickle spots, leaving them prickling in anticipation and a funny kind of energy that made every nerve of your knees crazy as more and more squeezes and pinches continued unmercifully assaulting the spot non stop. 

A sudden move and you yelped when your legs were lifted, his curious hand worming its way under your knee to lightly scratch the sensitive skin there. The touch was so incredibly fuzzy, so adoringly soft that the sudden change from the rough to light technique almost ripped a series of snickers from your throat without permission, the hilarity and urge to laugh taking over your every thought. 

Dogday continued scribbling and drawing shapes, leaving a couple of pokes here and there just so he could listen to those delightful muffled snorts.

(He would really love to listen to them more clearly, though.) 

“You really love this, don’t you, angel?” 

You barely sputtered out an answer before being obligated to clamp your mouth shut, uncontrollable laughter making your shoulders bounce as he took the chance to crawl his fingers upwards to your thigh, skittering them there for a couple of seconds before spidering them right back to under your knees, repeating the cycle for a couple of times before mirroring them on the other leg. 

“When I tickle you.” He scratched under your knee. 

“When I tease you.” He squeezed your calf.

“When I fluster you.” He swiped at the space right under your toes.

“It’s really adorable!” His paw stopped right on your sole and he pressed it, firmly enough that it didn’t tickle, still, for some reason you couldn’t stop your smile from becoming even more wobblier, the giddiness growing stronger and spreading in your every cell just like the heat that seemed to take over your face. 

“Especially because I can’t wait to hear aaaaall those cute giggles and beautiful laughter that you have trapped right there.” Suddenly, he raked his fingers up, from your heel to under the toes. A squeal filled the air. Dogday’s eyes shone, like an arrow findings the target. His fingertips curled, kneading on the skin. “That is why I have to apologize, angel, because I lied to you. That is a game that I just have to win.”

He then attacked.

It was less than a half of a piece of time, but suddenly your soles were being overcomed with scribbles, scratches and wiggling everywhere they could reach. There were digging fingers under your toes and a spidering that followed them to the pads, tweaking and scritching them all while curious pokes payed attention to the entire path of your arches, even if shouldn’t be possible for him to be tickling both places at the same time. Nevertheless, Dogday’s paw was so big that he was able to torment both of your feet at once while still holding them through all the resulting kicks those created.

And the teasing… Of course there was also the teasing.

“There we go! Oh my, oh my, look at you! You just can’t help being so adorable, now, can you? Awww, angel, you always get this… sweet expression when you are happy, so I like to call it your happy face! It’s delightful. The corner of your eyes gets all crinkly and your face gets all soft and your smile… your smile is the best part, it’s so bright! No matter the size or the time, it really feels like we have our own special rays of sun down here.”

He found a rather sensitive spot right above your heel and immediately concentrated on it with all his might, drumming and prodding there as if the salvation of this entire factory depended on making you laugh.

“That is why it was so easy to see how much you love tickles, sunshine. First when you were tickling me a few days ago and now. Since we started that game… you didn’t even ask me to stop and all while you simply never ceased looking so adorably full of joy like this! I could really spend the entire day just here, you know? Tickling you silly over and over again.”

That did it. The barrier broke. Loud peals of laughter were fished from your lips. Every sound and reaction filled the air in a frantic, unrestrained melody of mirth. 

Now, with them flying freely in the room, there were uncontrollable, hysterical giggles when Dogday decided to knead your calves up and down, those only being taken down by an unstoppable crackling, painted with one or two snorts, as his paws wiggled away to squeeze right above your kneecaps, taking his sweet, sweet time to give the ticklish skin under it a few swipes before moving away.

Finally, he let your ankles go, both paws resting on your sides, unbothered by all the squirming and protests that this simple act created, drinking in every reaction with a so fond, so tender gaze that it bordered on dotingly as you got another break.

You tried to take big gulps of air, but everytime your gazes found each other, titters grew anew, distracting you and leaving you in a constant state of a silly, giggly kind of joy.

M-Maybe he should reconsider! You laughed already, he won the game! That should be the end of this, right!

Dogday chuckled, fingers tuttering in their spot, curling and uncurling slowly, content to feel the trembling on the skin under them. 

“The end? But we just started! And you still got so much beautiful laughter trapped right here to show.” With his index finger, he highlighted his word by tapping on your belly, right in your bellybutton, ears perking at the screech this brought. “So many cute snorts and melodious shrieks that I would love to meet. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help to let them out, huh?”

A flow of words, more unintelligible than anything, fell off your lips. A mix of pleas,  threats, high pitched giggles and some indistinguishable sounds that could only be considered a true keysmash rather than a sentence. Dogday hummed in agreement and nodded his head as if it was all a well constructed and understandable sentence.

“I knew you would eventually see my point, angel. You’re such a delight, you know, that?”

He smiled, so kindly and caring, and then he digged.

His paws, big enough to cover your entire midriff drummed non stop, squeezing the lower part of your stomach while scratching everywhere they could reach. He stayed there for a while before his wiggling fingers crawled up, scribbling and pinching your sides unmercifully. They looked for any weak spot, any lovely place that would make you snort and squirm away and latched there with pinches and kneading until your back arched, only then moving back to tickle your stomach until you went back to try to curl yourself in a ball, starting the cycle over and over again. 

You felt almost high with laughter, the thought that it tickled, it tickled so so much and more than anything ever taking over your brain in sync with the loud, high pitched squeals and belly laughter (ha- Dogday would love that pun if you could say it to him) that chased after each other. After so much teasing, every tickle seemed to be accompanied by the brush of thousand of tiny phantom feathers that still tormented your stomach even when he moved away to your ribs, carefully pressing down on the bones and quickly scribbling with so much skill that it should be illegal the actual, loud crackle such a simple action created.

Your hands flied to hold his wrists, caught between pushing them away and pulling them close and, at seeing that, the sentient toy couldn’t help but feel himself melt and snicker fondly, barely controlling the urge to shove his face back on your neck and nuzzle and nibble the daylights out of it in a pure attack of cuteness. His tail was wagging so much that it dislodged a few pillows from where they were.

“Such a good friend. Such a cute, nice friend for me. For us.” The praises fell from his mouth naturally, your companionship too focused on keeping those happy reactions to really think too much about them. “You do so much to all of us, to me, and keep going above and beyond just to accomplish what you set your mind in. You’re brave and one of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. And there is so much kindness in you that I could talk the entire day about it! You saved me, you cared and tried and sometimes down here it feels like a nightmare but you… you make everything so much better, like a true angel. That is why I love this nickname so much. It really fits you.” 

You tried to answer, to say how much especial, strong and essential Dogday was for you as well, but every time a single coherent word slipped from your lips he immediately reinforced his attack, fully aware that if you said anything sweet he would inevitably let his guard down and you would be able to turn the tables, and he really needed to say all of that to you before that. 

His tickles were now focusing on keeping up the flow of starry laughter, watching them grow up to chortles and tune down into snickers as he scribbled in between each bone, keeping track of every special spot that pried a shriek from your lungs only to randomly attack it with prodding and poking, slowly fishing all kinds of joyful sounds that you could make.

He then buried his paws in your armpits, swirling the fingertips there for a few moments before digging energetically, fingers dancing and prodding every inch they could reach, which immediately made your arms come down with a loud chortle, head shaking and legs kicking at the sensation.

How was he so good at this?

Dogday gasped dramatically (not again-) and lightly pulled his paws in faux alarm, not really stopping his attack. “Oh no! Once more, you have trapped me!” Such a goofball. Such a silly, mean goofball and you could not wait to put your wiggly hands on and see how flustered you could make him be. “Dang, I really didn’t want to resort to this but I guess that I have no other option but to keep tickling and tickling and tickling on your poor ticklish pits forever and ever until the end of our days.” He then winked when he found your shining eyes. “But you would actually love that, wouldn’t you, my giggly sunshine?”

That was it. You were going to die. Right here and there. The playful tickles, the unrelenting teasing, the fond stares and gentle words… you could actually feel your entire body about to melt.

With a strength you didn’t even realize you had, you pulled your arms up to hide your flaming face, a pitched ‘eee’ sound mixing with the hysterical, absolutely uncontrollable laughter, your body rolling to the side and curling, shoulders bouncing with the force of each of your giggles.

Dogday let go of you, giggling together with your reactions, resting his hands on the ground and just observing, amusement and care clear as water in every trace of his features.

After a while, you felt a paw lay on your back, retracting for a bit when just that made you wiggle away, a new round of chuckles spilling, before it came back to rub your shoulders, touch kind and too firm to tickle. “Okay, okay, sunshine. I’m done. You can calm down for now.”

Laying down on the floor giggling yourself silly didn’t feel so embarrassing when Dogday’s own quiet snorts and snickers were quick to accompany you, especially since the rubbing really felt relaxing, making you melt on the touch bit by bit. 

After a few minutes, when a comfortable silence had fallen on you both, you rolled on your back, finally being able to stare at your companionship without feeling like you would explode. Dogday smiled bigger at your direction. He lifted a paw to gently wipe a tear from your cheek, not thinking too much about it.

“That was so fun! I didn’t know you were so ticklish, angel. You are almost as bad as m-” He stopped right in his tracks when a gasp and a new string of titters fell like a waterfall from your mouth and you pushed his paw away, fastly rubbing your cheek so the feeling of fuzzy tickles would go away. It was like the softest makeup brush had just touched your skin, and you had no idea that just this could tickle so much.

Dohohogday! You sahaid you werehe done! 

But your companionship didn’t answer. Astonished, he stared at his paw before looking at you again, gaze jumping from one to the other like he was watching a tennis match.

Suddenly his entire face brightened like the sun and he looked at you as if you had just said the funniest, most brilliant pun he had ever heard in his entire life.

“Aaaangel!” Every letter was bathed in pure, disbelieved delight.

No! You knew very well what that tune meant! No way! Nononono! Don’t you dare!

“Are your cheeks…”

Dohohogday! Don’t you come closer!

“Ticklish?”

Before you could push yourself from the mattress and jump away, there were two thumbs softly scratching on your cheeks, scribbling so lightly that it immediately made a giant smile take over your expression. Titters started to fill the air once more.

“Oh my… angel! This is adorable!” Dogday looked like he was about to bounce around the room with how much excited he was, his voice getting higher and glitching in excitement. “I can’t believe how fun and cute… You just… Ah, sunshine, I can’t help but!”

And before you could even blink, he shoved his smiley, stupidly fuzzy face right on your neck again, nuzzling there without a single worry in the world. His fingers kept  tickling your cheeks, sometimes even slipping to tease the back of your ears with a few scratches as he giggled in joy since he could literally feel the rumbling of your snickers. They twirled and spun in the air for much minutes more until his tickly attack from cuteness overload was finally finished and you both just kept layed down on the comfy pile, cuddling in between content sighs.

Dogday listened to your calm breath, saw how relaxed your entire body was and, according to the few sneaky peaks he had, saw that happy, full of mirth, smile was still in your face, leaving him melting in contentment, entire body relaxing as well. 

Perfect. His plan had worked.

Not that it was that big of a deal, but it had been such a long time since he had the opportunity to…

He was just glad that it worked. That he still got it in him. 

(Being playful. Happy. Helping the others. Being there when they needed him. Matter when it was necessary. Being silly and fun)

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the hand coming until it laid on his head, playing with the fur there and scratching on that place right behind his left ear that never failed to make him embarrassingly become a mush of pleased hums and wagging tail. A low, sleepy voice crossed the air.

You said you would take him out of here. It’s a promise, Dogday.

How his angel knew exactly what to say was a mystery to him. And, it didn’t quite hurt, but his entire being ached at those words. His smile was sad and he was glad that the human couldn’t see as he blinked quickly, eyes suddenly moisty. “Alright.”

There would still be some revenge when you woke up, though. Be ready.

And that reminded him so much of others playful, sleepy conversations he had before everything happened that it ripped a surprised laugh from him. He tried to look up to see the very much likely mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, but a few more purposeful scratches turned him right back to a content puddle. He nuzzled the human a bit more. “Sleep well, angel.”

You too, Dogday.

(And sleep well they did. Lost in a peaceful rest as the entire world outside left them be.)

[~*~]

Random fun facts!

-There is a parallel I made by mistake between CatNap and DogDay and the whole 'trusting and following the being that saved your life'. It's not too deep and Dogday isn't as bad as Catnap but that was an interesting thing I noticed :D

-Different from the reader, Dogday is more used to the time down there so he has a good grasp when day and nights happens in general.

-I am actively ignoring the plotholes here about food and water here. Ya know when you have to poke holes in a lid so the bugs in the container can breathe that is what I doing kjhgfdfghyhgfd

-Nothing to do with the fanfic but I kept listening to this song when I was writing it and I think it's cute.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

Bom dia a todos venho aqui oferecer uma coffe shop au com hideduo pq faz meses que eu pensei nisso mas ainda não consegui escrever então eh isto.

Os brasileiros tem uma cafeteria chamada de "Fofoca?" e o Fit é um cliente frequente de lá, que gosta bastante do local e é bem simpático com todo mundo (mas especialmente E secretamente pensa que o Pac é bem bonito e charmoso) porém o dia que ele realmente cai de amores pelo nosso querido é quando um assaltante tenta roubar a loja e o Pac e o Mike se juntam para desmaiar o cara e roubar ele

Tipo, tudo que está na minha mente desde que eu comecei a pensar nisso é tipo, Mike sendo o primeiro a criar o plano, puxando o Pac pra dentro dessa, Pac pulando de cabeça mó foco, mó determinação enquanto grita internamente. Fit estando prestes a agir por conta própria e simplesmente ficando lá com corações no olhar enquanto o Pac distrai e atrai o assaltante pro ponto que ele e o Mike combinaram enquanto o último tá ocupado fazendo um clofofórmio caseiro (super confiável, confia) e eles três tem uma pequena luta, o cara desmaia, Pac agoa começa a gritar (alegria ou desespero fica aí o questionamento) externamente, Mike está rindo, comemorando e xingando ao quatro ventos e o Fit tá lá percebendo que ele é Muito MUITO Gay.

Pac, no entanto, tem um crush no Fit desde o dia que ele tava procurando uma academia lá por perto, achou essa nova que tinha aberto recentemente, entrou lá e viu o Fit e o Philza numa lutinha saudável pra fortalecer a amizade e percebeu que o Fit "literalmente poderia me quebrar em pedaços minúsculos :)" e BAM Gay Screaming

Ainda quero escrever uma oneshot disso mas fica aqui a ideia pra eu não esquecer

[sevikagf]

Forge of the Heart

pairing: Dammon/Tav (Ká:nen Wildthorn) summary: Who doesn't want to spend some time with the most handsome blacksmith in Faerûn, talking about romance novels? are they the romance novel? whoa plot twist

this is for my beloved @bigbywlf and their beautiful tav Ká:nen!

----------

The fire from the forge is hot, sweat trailing down the tieflings skin as he hammers metal to perfection. The blaze of the sun only adds more heat to the air and the only reprieve is the occasional breeze. Baldur’s Gate keeps moving below, creatures chatting and roaming, their sights set elsewhere than the clashing of steel and stone. 

Her sights, however, were only on the blacksmith as he works, blissfully indifferent to the sweltering humidity. Ká:nen Wildthorn has been seated in the corner of the forge for some time now, patient as ever while the man continues about his day. She’s borrowed a book from his room, but the text has no meaning when her attention drifts from the story of lust and wonder to her own imagination- involving herself and a very strong and sweaty tiefling. 

It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed her appearance. He's checked on her repeatedly and at times she'd be lost in the book and at others, she was lost in him, his work, or possibly just lost in thought. When their eyes meet, she smiles widely as if she's happy he's paying her attention. Despite her sudden visit, she doesn't disturb his work or try to interfere.

Dammon stands as he admires the half finished project, wiping the sweat from his brow. He turns to the wood elf curiously. “You must be bored. There’s no need to wait around for me, you know.” 

She smiles carelessly, setting the book down on the table. “Not at all. I’ve been thoroughly entertained this whole time.”

His grin could power the whole city and her heart feels a kick start of its own. “Well, I think this is a good time for a break. We can go inside, where it’s cooler.” 

Ká:nen nods as she follows behind him, holding the book against her chest. She’ll have to return it to him before she heads back to camp, but she is interested in finding out how it ends. With a kick of her boot, the door closes shut and noise of the city stops, leaving only the two of them in a comforting silence.

“What do you think? The book, I mean.” Dammon gestures to her hands. “I don’t have many, but I thought it might be to your liking.” 

Fingers tap the cover nervously at the second skip of her heart today. He thought a story of lovers having tender, intimate, private moments together was to her liking? “It’s delightful. I must admit I’m surprised though. I didn’t think this would be a tale that would interest you.”  

There’s only confidence where one might assume to see embarrassment or bashfulness. Dammon is not shy in the slightest about his interests - or perhaps, better yet - he’s comfortable in her presence to not feel the need to hide who he is. “Who doesn’t enjoy romance? I like to believe at least once everyone desires a love like that. Don’t you?” 

She’d choke if she tried to answer too quickly. It was encouraging to know that even in the midst of the realms' perils and surrounded by ambitions of godhood, someone still held on to simple pleasures such as love and mortality. 

“I do. Recently got someone that comes to mind when I think about it.” Ká:nen sends him a teasing smirk and for a moment, she thinks he looks briefly startled. 

Dammon chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. “Lately, I have as well.” He clears his throat and changes the subject quickly, eyeing the weapons littered around the room. “The bow you wanted me to fix- I should have it ready in the next couple of days.”

“There’s no rush. I appreciate you fixing it for me.” She sets the book down and walks towards him slowly. As she stands in front of him, every step he takes backwards, she takes forward until he's caught by a table and the gap between them nearly closes. "Enough of that. I want to hear more about this person you think of. Is she pretty?"

The tiefling takes a breath as he gazes down at her, speechless. As his eyes search hers, he slowly relaxes and laughs. "She is, in fact. She has beautiful eyes, lots of freckles, and a dashing scar on her cheek." His hand is cool against her skin as he brushes his fingers over the curved reminder of mistakes she won't make again. "Not only that, she's brave and kind- kind enough to help me not only once, but multiple times without asking for anything in return."

Ká:nen hums soft and low, leaning into his touch. "She sounds wonderful. I bet you'd really like to kiss her right now."

"I really would." He whispers, watching her lips. She set up the perfect chance. It would be a waste for him to miss it now.

He kisses her slow, hesitant. As if the moment they parted ways she would be leaving again. She smiles against his lips, tugging him closer by his apron. A sign that she wouldn't be leaving. Ká:nen encourages him as she deepens the kiss, moving her hands over his chest and then around his neck.

"I've always wanted to do that." She breaths out after she breaks the kiss.

Dammon smiles and presses his forehead against hers. "I'm nothing special, you know."

Ká:nen holds his face in her hands, staring up at him. "You are to me."

[earlgreyinpajamas]

merthur fic recs: different first meeting

1. Here at the Altar I’m Letting You Go by messandahalf (@messandahalf10too)

Against Arthur's will, he is arranged to marry Princess Mithian from Nemeth. A minor problem occurs in Uther's plan for his son when the regular tailor for the Royal Family falls ill, requiring a replacement to sew Arthur's wedding attire.

~~~

fahjdkh the pining!!!

2. Woad Blue by MerlinLikeTheBird

They accidentally take over a castle. Well, Gwaine calls it liberating. Merlin’s not sure what to call it—there was a lord, and now there isn’t. (Kanen comes to Ealdor early, and that changes everything.)

~~~

the angst slaps so hard in this fic (though there is still a ton of fluff!)

3. We Can Hide Together, Among the Roses by infinitemerlin         

Arthur is supposed to marry Princess Mithian in five days.

And then he meets the wedding's florist.

Suddenly, he can't stop thinking about roses and happiness and—does he even deserve all of that?

~~~

ahhh this is so cute!!!

[martianloon]

Fic recs!

6/25/24

••• 9-1-1 •••

words, how little they mean when they're a little too late by Polish_Amber | Rated: G | 14 k words | Complete

Margaret and Phillip spent years not seeing their children and then slowly got back into contact with them until this point, where they think they’re in a pretty decent place, actually.

Except then Buck gets injured and, as his hospital room fills with evidence of a life they know absolutely nothing about and they meet and hear about people they’ve never heard of (including a child?!), they realise that perhaps it was all simply too little, too late after all.

—--

Or, the one where Buck builds a family and his birth parents get exposed to pieces of it in the aftermath of 6x10: In a Flash.

brick by spqr | Rated: E | 10.2 k words | Complete

The first thing Buck noticed when he walked through the door was the smell of plaster and wet paint. There was a white spot on the wall in the living room, primered but without any color yet, about the size of a man’s fist.

Eddie looked sheepish. His knuckles were still bruised, scabbed over but healing.

“You were in a coma,” was all he said.

“Yeah,” Buck agreed. He knew the feeling.

••• DCU •••

Say Uncle by Megaerakles | Rated: T | 46.5 k words | Complete

Tim is prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that Bruce will not feel obligated to adopt Tim when a comatose Jack Drake inevitably dies. But what could be better than preventing Bruce from ending up with a son he doesn't want? Bringing back the one he does.

Jason agrees to the Replacement's stupid, stupid plan to invite some strange adult man he's never met to come live with him, if only to keep the idiot alive long enough for him to serve his purpose in the Great Red Hood Revenge Scheme.

Might this new roommate situation have an impact on either of their worldviews? Surely not...

••• Merlin •••

Woad Blue by MerlinLikeTheBird | Rated: G | 18.8 k words | Complete

They accidentally take over a castle. Well, Gwaine calls it liberating. Merlin’s not sure what to call it—there was a lord, and now there isn’t.

(Kanen comes to Ealdor early, and that changes everything.)

Good Fortune by platonic_boner | Rated: G | 11.4 k words | Complete

Arthur makes Merlin a lord, and Merlin does an astonishingly good job of running a village.

••• Naruto •••

to dwell inside (a hearthfire heart) by Ellory | Rated: T | 10.1 k words | Complete

Senju Tobirama is not a samurai. He is not bound in oaths of honor. Yet, he finds himself revealing a long-kept secret to settle a debt with Uchiha Madara. A brother’s life for a brother’s life. That is the only reason he saves Uchiha Izuna from the Hagoromo.

••• Nirvana in Fire •••

Butterfly's Ashes by esama | Rated: T | 24.4 k words | Complete

Lin Chen watches him with patience Mei Changsu barely knows, lips pulled into an unhappy line but unmoving. Lin Chen's eyes - they're different. His hair is shorter and not quite as haphazardly cut. He's pulled it from his face. He looks tidy. He looks young.

He looks wrong.

In which Mei Changsu dies, lives, and chooses the other method.

[slitherin-away]

Heya! I don't know if you are still answering the fanfic ask, but if you are can I ask for 1 and 3, please? :DD Your blog is amazing!!

Thank you so much!! For both the compliment and the ask (for this ask game)! And of course, I can answer those!

1. favorite fic you wrote this year

Well, good thing I wrote the majority of my fics this year sdfgsdfg This is surprisingly hard to answer, though. Because I come back to quite a few on a regular basis. And I'm pretty sure I answered this differently the last time, but I'm gonna say Turning Westward. It has a very special place in my heart.

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

Okay, this one's really hard to answer. But since the question says "wrote" and not published I am going with one that hasn't been published yet.

"Warm and soft and wonderful, like the light of a thousand fireflies made tangible, the embrace around him makes Izuku shudder."

You can ask for context but I can't promise I will give you context.

[rosileeduckie]

⭐star⭐, please! Ur fanfics are a bless! 💛💛

Thanks, kanene! 💕🥰 Your interactions are a bless!!! And thanks for the ask! Author's choice it is!

In the same vein as the last ask, I'm picking one of my partner's favorite pieces of mine to talk about 🥰

Eyes Only For You was a piece I wrote for Tickletober last year, and I really liked it. This is one I come back to a lot.

When I write, I try to hold onto certain images or phrases to carry through a piece. I don't know if that makes sense exactly, but I say it to give context to the fact that this piece has a focus on eyes, when it originally had a focus on ears, based on the snippet that Carlos likes when Cecil strokes his ears. You can imagine where my mind went after hearing that 😋

My partner and I talk a lot about the media we like, so a lot of my ideas come from her, and one of our conversations came to the conclusion that: Cecil has multiple eyes (which is insinuated by the show itself) and that those eyes are in the forms of tattoos that move. I loved the idea so much that I ran with it. (I have an upcoming WTNV fic in the works, also based on conversations with my partner, that we're both excited about. If anyone has any songs we could use for the weather, I'd love to hear them 😁)

The hardest part of this fic was writing choreography, which always happens when extra limbs make an appearance. I'm never sure if I'm being clear.

The part of this fic I most enjoyed was the subtle fantasy elements. Like, I love how weird WTNV is and how that weirdness is normal for the people that live in that world and for us as listeners the longer we listen. So Cecil having this part of him that would be so magical that is just as normal as having an arm or a nose was a very fun thing to write. ☺️

~*~

Wanna read the fic I discussed here? Do it!

Want to hear me talk about the behind the scenes of another fic of mine? You can do that, too!

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

Maybe some cheer up tickles with Logicality where both were watching a show and a tickle scene appeared and person B is like "Oh, this is a signal. That is how I should cheer up my friend."? (I dunno, sounds funny xD). Thankys! -w-)s2

Patton had had a very hard day. So Logan had sat him down with a snack and some cartoons, in hopes that it would help him feel better. But despite Patton being curled up and leaning on him, the small frown remained.

And then came a scene, very short, but enough to catch Logan’s attention. A tickling scene.

He glanced at Patton as the scene ended, just to see the tail end of a smile.

“That’s it,” Logan said, accidentally out loud, and Patton turned to look at him just as Logan poked a finger into his belly.

Patton just looked down at his belly, and then he looked up at Logan. He had a tiny, hopeful smile.

Logan wiggled all five of his fingers into Patton’s belly, rewarded by the smile growing. He started poking and squeezing, hampered by the odd angle they were in.

Patton’s smile grew even wider, and he squirmed around, each movement only making him more open to getting tickled.

The more he was able to, the better Logan tickled, and soon he had his first little puffs of air as Patton tried not to laugh. And Patton kept wriggling at every touch, until he was laying across Logan’s lap, and then finally the giggles rushed out all at once.

Logan smiled and lightened his tickling, pushing up Patton’s shirt and drawing complex shapes on his tummy. Patton’s grin and soft giggles were all he needed to see.

But then Patton grabbed his wrist, and Logan stopped.

“Thank you,” Patton said. “You’re being so sweet. But…”

“Just not in the mood?” Logan asked gently.

Patton shook his head immediately. “I.. I don’t want to remember that I was having a bad day. So… more? Please?”

Logan’s hand started circling Patton’s belly again. “So you want me to tickle you so much you can’t remember the bad things anymore?”

Patton flushed, but nodded.

Without even answering, Logan latched his fingers onto Patton’s hips and sent him into squealing laughter.

[yussuna]

Me reading @kanene-yaaay fic

After read

Like

How dare u?????

What a magnificent and long writing

She needs to show to world to break some hearts!!!!!!

...

I need to make my part

9

)

9

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

THERE ARE TEARS IN MY EYEEEEES!!!!

Oh my gosh. Oh, my heeeeart. So, so, SOOOO pure and adorable and precious and LOOK AT THEM BEING SO HAPPY TOGETHER LIKE THE AMAZING, LOVELY FAMILY THRY ARE!!!!

Maybe 48-49 with Patton and Toddler!Virgil? (Or however you wanna spin it? Much love. 💛

This went a little older than toddler and probably a bit angstier than you may have wanted but I hope you still enjoy it? Definitely ends in fluff. 

CW: Allusions to past abuse

Prompt: Bedtime kisses

--

It didn’t start out as kisses.

When Virgil first came to live with Patton, he was a world-weary five-year-old with haunted eyes and a cautious demeanor who immediately broke Patton’s heart.

“It may take some time,” the social worker told him, while Virgil hid behind her leg and stared at Patton anxiously. “He’s been through a lot.”

And it did take time. For the first few weeks, Virgil mostly hid in his room, rarely venturing out other than to use the restroom and come down for dinner when called. He would stuff peas and potatoes and dinner rolls in his pockets and take them back to his room, and for the first few weeks, Patton found himself cleaning old moldy food out of every conceivable nook and cranny.

But he didn’t yell, or tell Virgil to stop. Instead, he started stocking the cabinets and pantry with pre-packaged foods like granola bars, pop tarts, and gummy bears, and made sure Virgil knew he could take as many as he liked whenever he wanted.

If he really thought about it, it probably started with those snacks.

“Virgil,” he said that evening after dinner, as Virgil had started to totter off with a pocket full of garlic bread.

Virgil turned back, wary and startled as a baby rabbit, and Patton had done his very best to stay casual and he’d said, “I bought some new snacks. May I show you?”

Virgil hadn’t responded (he didn’t much in those early days) but he’d approached the cupboard with Patton. Patton had been careful to store the items on the lower shelves, where Virgil could reach. “These are snacks for everyone,” he said. “Whenever you’re hungry, even if it’s not meal time, you can come get some, okay?”

Virgil had indicated he understood, but didn’t reach for any of the items, so Patton had done so for him that first time. “Here,” he said, pulling out a package of veggie chips. “Trade you for that garlic bread?”

Virgil looked abashed, but slowly reached into his pocket, pulling the crumbling pieces of bread from their stashes and handing them wordlessly to Patton. Then he accepted the veggie chips and scampered away. Patton heard his feet thudding on the stairs, then the sound of his door closing, and sighed.

Baby steps.

It became a tradition. At bedtime, Patton would go to the cupboard and open it, perusing the selection of pre-packaged treats. And Virgil would appear at his elbow, waiting to be handed a treat of Patton’s choosing. (He’d tried at first to see if Virgil had a favorite, one he wanted to pick for himself, but Virgil had refused to choose, so Patton had continued to do so for him, trying to select a wide variety so Virgil had something he liked).

The next step in their journey came when Patton told a joke about Oreos, and Virgil had giggled. Patton’s heart had stuttered to a near stop, because that was the first time he’d ever seen the child smile, let alone laugh, and Virgil’s eyes had gotten wide and fearful, waiting to see what the result of his transgression would be.

But Patton had simply laughed too, and said, “I know, I’m pretty funny, huh? I’m working on my stand-up routine. Maybe you can help me out?”

So then the tradition was a snack and a joke. Patton spent the day scouring the internet for age-appropriate ones, everything from knock-knocks to puns (Virgil seemed to like those, and it still amazed Patton how smart he was).

“So Virgil,” Patton said, holding up a bag of gushers. “Why doesn’t the lobster like to share?” Then, as he handed the snack to the waiting child: “Because he’s a little shellfish!”

“Hey Virgil,” Patton waved a bag of fritos in the air. “What did the ocean say to the beach? Nothing! It just waved!”

The first time he tried a knock-knock joke, he was afraid Virgil wouldn’t answer, so when Virgil’s timid voice replied, “Who’s there?” Patton almost dropped the bag of mini chips ahoy chocolate cookies he’d been holding.

“Justin,” Patton said, hoping the tightness in his voice just sounded like anticipation of a good punchline.

“Justin who?”

“Justin time for dessert!” The cookies were presented with a flourish, and the gap-toothed grin and giggle were sweeter than any dessert Patton had ever had.

It did take time, though. The social worker was right about that. And it was six months before the snack-and-joke tradition took on an extra element.

The most rewarding part of it, though, was the fact that it was Virgil himself who initiated the addition.

“So Virgil,” Patton said, rooting through the cabinet--he was certain he’d stashed at least one box of hostess cupcakes in here, and they were Virgil’s favorite-- “Why did the superhero flush the toilet?”

He expected silence, or maybe a soft ‘why?’ Instead, Virgil said, “Because it was his doody.”

And without thinking, Patton turned around and beamed, holding up his hand. “Yeah, high five!”

Virgil shrank away at the sight of the raised open palm, and Patton froze, the smile dropping from his face as he realized what he’d done. But before he could begin to babble apologies--before he’d even had a chance to lower his hand--Virgil squared his shoulders, bit his lip, and lifted his hand, smacking his palm lightly against Patton’s.

So the high-five became part of the tradition. It was the first piece of physical affection Virgil had shown him, or allowed him to show in return, and Patton treasured every single one of them.

It wasn’t the only change. The snacks, which had originally disappeared up the stairs into Virgil’s hidey holes the moment Patton gave them to him, were now sometimes eaten at the kitchen table. The smiles, once so rare, were beginning to make regular appearances. Instead of sitting still and silent, Virgil began sitting...well, like a kid, swinging his feet where they dangled from the kitchen chair or shifting position on the couch during their movie nights.

“Be patient. Let him come to you.”

And he was. Little by little, Virgil was opening up, regarding him with less fear and more curiosity and even--sometimes, perhaps?--hope.

Still, Patton didn’t want to push it. And sure, sometimes Virgil fell asleep leaning against his arm during movies, or took his hand when they were crossing the street, but it didn’t prepare him for the moment Virgil stood at the cupboard for snack time and asked--timidly--if he could tell the joke this time.

“Knock knock,” Virgil said, looking up into the cupboard, at the shelves of snack food, and beyond them, the regular staples.

“Who’s there?” Patton asked obligingly.

Virgil hesitated, then said, “Can o’ peas.”

Patton arched an eyebrow--a knock knock joke he hadn’t heard? “Can o’ peas who?”

Virgil shuffled a little, then swallowed audibly. “Can o’ peas have a goodnight kiss?”

You could’ve knocked Patton over with a feather in that moment. He drew a soft breath and, trying to keep his voice light and casual, said, “But of course! Where would you like it?”

Virgil shrugged, not meeting Patton’s eyes, but Patton didn’t let that deter him. “Hmm. How about...right...here?” he tapped the center of Virgil’s forehead with one finger lightly, and Virgil giggled.

“Okay.”

Patton leaned forward and pressed his first goodnight kiss--light and quick--against Virgil’s forehead. And when Virgil smiled up at him after, he knew his heart was permanently spoken for.

The bedtime tradition didn’t start out as kisses. And it didn’t end with them either, because after that first one, Virgil took it as a given that he would get one every night. And shortly after, he wanted hugs too, and bedtime stories, and to be tucked in--the typical demands of a typical child, and Patton’s broken heart began to heal, hoping that in spite of everything, Virgil would bounce back.

“Children are resilient,” the social worker said, when Patton reported on his progress.

Patton thought there was resilient, and then there was brave beyond all reason, and he thought his little Virgil, his kiddo, was both.

The adoption paperwork was a bit of a hassle, but it was more than worth it. Because there were traditions that, once you had them, you fought to keep them.

It didn’t start with kisses, but as Patton stood in the courtroom with Virgil at his side, as the judge reviewed and finalized the adoption proceedings, Patton was determined to make sure it would continue with them, and with hugs and bedtime stories and as much love as there was to give, for as long as Virgil wanted them.

--

Oh shock look everyone, LJ  wrote another story where Patton ends up adopting Virgil!

We’re up to like seven cakes at this point. Hope you all are hungry.

[maraleestuff]

The Moment of Truth - My Rewrite

(A fic idea that won’t leave me alone. Features Merthur endgame but divorce first ://)

So there was Big Set Up for a Magic Reveal in 01x10, that never really amounted to anything. Will knew that Merlin could probably end the issue with Kanen before anyone could be hurt, and Hunith saw that Merlin was preparing to do what it would take to protect Ealdor, even at the cost of himself. Pre-battle, he even alluded to the potential moment. As we recall, Will took the fall as sorcerer after taking a crossbow bolt/ arrow for Arthur.

But what if things had gone differently?

At the end of one of Arthur’s speeches, and Will had been outspoken, he paced up to Merlin. He wouldn’t reveal Merlin’s magic in front of everyone, never that, but he’s still mad. “There isn’t hope, Merlin,” Will says, unaware or uncaring that Arthur is still in earshot. “Your Prince will lead all of us to our deaths.”

“He’s trying to help—“

“But it won’t be enough,” Will retorts. “You know there’s only one way to win this battle. But first, you need to stop living a lie.” It’s not fair—even Will knows this—but he’s angry that his friend had to leave, that his friend plays servant to a spoilt prince.

And he can see it in Merlin’s eyes, the way he looks at Arthur—like the man is everything, destiny and honor personified. (He can see how this love hurts his friend, too.)

He’s angry that Merlin—his Merlin—isn’t quite the same anymore, that his best friend isn’t the one who returned to Ealdor. Because Camelot changed him. Arthur fucking Pendragon changed him.

Will storms away, ignoring Merlin’s call after him, and only stops when he rounds a nearby house. When he glances back, guilt fills him at Merlin’s sad, troubled look. Will tries to ignore the way Arthur is looking at Merlin; if Will didn’t know any better, he’d say the Prince is worried.

- - -

Later, before the coming battle, Merlin’s fingers tremble as he puts on a vambrace.

By now, he’s had about half a year of experience putting armor on Arthur—but it’s awkward and almost ill-fitting on himself. Arthur stands nearby, putting on his own armor with expert ease; a soldier and a knight, prepared for battle.

But Merlin feels nothing but a certain numbness, Will’s voice echoing in his mind. There’s only one way they can prevail against Kanen—at least, without anymore death.

He knows he needs to act. But can he risk it? Can he bear to have Arthur look at him like a monster? To be executed, or exiled? Can he bear to hope?

“Here,” Arthur says, drawing Merlin from his thoughts, as he helps Merlin with his vambrace. Merlin’s fumbling fingers hadn’t been getting anywhere.

“Thanks.” Merlin’s mouth is too dry, and he feels moments from being unable to simply breathe. He’s too nervous to make a comment about Arthur helping him for a change.

“Look,” Merlin starts, when he’s able to find his voice, “whatever happens out there, I don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“It’s alright to be scared,” Arthur says, surprisingly soft. “Even the most seasoned of warriors dread battle. And you’re not a knight, you’re a—“

“A servant?” Merlin asks. With Will’s distrust of Arthur on his mind, the reminder of his station, compared to Arthur, burns all the more.

“A civilian,” Arthur states. “You aren’t a soldier.”

“I know.” Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur, but he had no training, but for being Arthur’s training dummy and a smuggled book of spells.

Merlin takes a deep breath, securing his sheath on his waist. Gwen had gifted him a sword, but it’s weight was unfamiliar. He’d need to use it, until—

“Merlin,” Arthur says, shuffling with his own sword belt, expression pensive—Merlin knows him well enough by now to know that he was unsure about what he was going to say. It’s so unlike him that Merlin pauses, frowning. “What your friend said, what did he mean by that?”

Merlin’s stomach drops. But he feigns ignorance. “By what?”

“About living a lie?”

Merlin opens his mouth, but Morgana is suddenly shoving open the front door. “They’re coming, across the river.”

“We’ll head out, at once,” Arthur says. When the door closes, Arthur looks back at Merlin expectantly, a furrow in his brow.

“Whatever I have to do, remember that we’re in Essetir, not Camelot.��

Merlin leaves before Arthur can respond.

- - -

The plan goes perfectly—until everything goes wrong.

Will stands at Merlin’s side, as he conjures a storm and friend and foe alike are thrown in chaos. The battle is over quickly, then, and Arthur storms up to them, a thunderous expression.

“I’m the sorcerer,” Merlin says, heart pounding. Simple words for such a pivotal moment.

Arthur opens his mouth, fury and hurt in his face, but Will steps forward, too. “This isn’t Camelot,” Will says, at Merlin’s side. “Merlin can’t be punished by it’s laws.”

And then, before Arthur can respond, magic rings around Merlin like alarm bells, as the last vestiges of Kanen’s men attack. Kanen, stirring on the battlefield, raises a crossbow at Arthur’s back.

“No!” Merlin surges forward, around Arthur, flicking the arrow aside like a fly. Time is slowed, like molasses, or maybe it’s Merlin who’s moving faster—he’s never learned the difference.

When time rights itself, he’s in the thick of it, parrying the sword of a bandit. Behind him, somewhere, is the clink of Arthur’s armor and Will shouting.

Someone pushes Merlin aside; a whistle of an arrow, a sickening thwack as it hits someone.

Merlin looks around frantically and pales. Will, his best friend, a brother, staggers back, an arrow protruding from his chest.

“No. No!” Merlin’s ears ring. Suddenly, Merlin is on his feet, fury in his veins—he shoves Kanen and his men back, a yell burning his throat.

He doesn’t stop to watch them fall.

“Will!” Merlin kneels at Will’s side, hands hovering. There’s so much blood. Will’s breath a wheeze. Merlin’s studied a couple of healing spells, but nothing for this. Gaius is the Physician.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Just hang on, just try to breathe,” Merlin tries to soothe, and he rambles more, but he isn’t totally sure what he’s saying.

Someone helps him get Will inside his house, on a table, but Merlin isn’t sure who. He doesn’t stop to glance. Arthur says something, but Merlin doesn’t hear it. Footsteps fade, and he’s alone with Will, his hand oddly cold, as Will wheezes for breath, tears in his eyes.

Merlin’s own eyes blur, but he ignores them.

“You’re a good man, Merlin,” Will gasps. Merlin grips his hand, unable to breathe—not because he dreads his secret being revealed, because, suddenly, he’s faced with a world where Will is gone. Not an old friend, in a distant village, just—gone.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin murmurs. “I don’t know how to heal you. I don’t—I can’t—“

“It’s okay,” Will says, weakly grasping Merlin back. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I was wrong about Arthur, you know. I don’t think I’ll ever really like him, but I see the way you two look at each other.”

“What?”

Will laughs, winces. “You’ve always been a decent judge of character, I think. If you see the King in him, then it must be in there…deep, deep down. And if he hurts you, I will haunt him till the end of his days.”

Merlin laughs wetly. His tears mix with the growing red stain. His hand is on Will’s chest, trying in vain to stem the flow, but Merlin can feel the life draining from Will. Not the blood, metaphorically, but with his magic; he can feel it drain, but he doesn’t know how to mend it.

“It’s been boring here, without you,” Will says.

“I’m sorry I had to go.” A part of Merlin will always feel that way, no matter of pratly princes and talking dragons. He’ll always miss goofing around with his magic or spear fishing or playing pranks with Will. The way you miss your childhood home that you can never truly return to.

Will starts gasping harshly. It isn’t far now.

“Merlin, Merlin, I’m scared—“

“I know. I’m here. I’m here.”

“I don’t want to die—I don’t want to be alone—“

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Merlin grasps Will’s hand, tightly.

The world stops when Will stops breathing. And though sobs catch in Merlin’s chest, though he can feel grief like a dark winter storm, for a brief instant, he is grateful.

Will isn’t in pain anymore.

- - -

Merlin doesn’t remember much of the preparations for the funerals—for Will, for Matthew, for all those who fell in battle.

He knows he’s the one who helps carry Will to the pyre. Merlin arranges Will’s grip around his father’s sword, leaves his woven leather bracelet in Will’s fingers. Gwen, Morgana, and his mother squeeze his shoulder, or murmur condolences—someone strokes his hair. He thinks Arthur is somewhere there, on the periphery, but Merlin can’t face that right now.

When the flames burn, all Merlin can hear is Will’s panicked voice. He stays, stays, stays, until the embers are cold, tears dried on his cheeks, dried blood and grime on his hands.

At some point, he kneels, fiddling with the grass at his knees.

A shadow eventually falls over him, or, maybe, it’s been there for awhile.

“Merlin,” Arthur says, armor clanking as he sits down. In the edge of Merlin’s vision, he reaches out a hand, hesitates, and drops it on his thigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Merlin says. It’s one thing to know it’s not his fault—not everything is under his control, even with magic—but there is still this insidious voice.

If he had acted sooner, no one would’ve had to die. Will would still be alive.

“He—“ Arthur pauses, wets his lips. “He knew about…it, didn’t he?”

Merlin blinks, head feeling a little foggy. “It?”

“Your magic,” Arthur says, the moment Merlin had been dreading. Merlin feels very little now that it’s upon him.

“Yes.”

“He was trying to get you to stop the battle.”

“Something like that,” Merlin sighs. “Even I don’t know fully what I’m capable of.”

Supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to walk the Earth—but he couldn’t heal his friend.

“You seemed capable enough,” Arthur says. “That storm you conjured. I think some of Kanen’s men almost shat themselves.” Arthur pauses, glancing at Merlin, and Merlin realizes he’s trying to make a joke. Not to make light of his grief, but to help.

Merlin blinks, and a warm tear falls down his cheek without thought. “But not powerful enough. I felt Will’s life but I didn’t even know the first thing about healing him.”

Arthur’s hand warms Merlin’s shoulder, steadying him. “I…I can’t pretend to know the first thing about magic. But I know you. You did everything you could. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

“It’s almost dark, Merlin. We should head inside. You can finish up my dinner.”

“How generous,” Merlin says wryly, but he doesn’t want to move just yet. “I can’t yet. I promised…” Merlin swallows. More tears fall. “I promised I wouldn’t leave him alone.”

“We won’t leave you alone either,” Arthur says, squeezing Merlin’s shoulder.

“We?”

“We,” Morgana says behind Merlin. When he turns around, she has two blankets: one she lays on the grass, the other she drapes around Merlin and Arthur’s shoulders. Gwen and Hunith trail behind her with steaming bowls of stew and a couple of candles.

“We,” Gwen confirms, handing out the bowls.

The four of them huddle together under the single blanket, while Hunith smiles solemnly.

“Try not to stay out too long,” Hunith says. She strokes Merlin’s hair, and smiles gratefully at Gwen, Morgana, and Arthur. “It gets cold after dark.”

Hunith plants an indulgent kiss on Merlin’s brow before heading back inside.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” Merlin tells them.

“We do,” Morgana says. “You’ve been there for all of us. Even if one of us”—she sends a stink eye to Arthur—“doesn’t always acknowledge it.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Gwen adds.

“I promise, Merlin,” Arthur says. “Now, one of the best ways to keep someone alive is to tell their stories. So, tell us about Will. If you’d like.”

So Merlin does.

[kanene-yaaay]

He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out. 

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second. 

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?  

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing. 

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory. 

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away. 

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well. 

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation. 

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction. 

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted. 

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon. 

“Eek! Wait, wait!” 

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh. 

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve. 

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug? 

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever? 

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality. 

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way. 

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly. 

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react. 

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand. 

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down. 

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch. 

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

If I had a nickel for everytime I had a nightmare with fnaf were I would wake up from it, feel relieved that it was over and then go back to sleep only for the nightmare to continue from were it stopped with the characters being aware that I woke up and tried to escape from them I would have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot. But it is weird that it happenes twice

[fluffyskies]

I'm not obsessed…it’s just @kanene-yaaay’s most recent fic about Omori (BTW WHICH WAS SO GOOD!!!!!) gave me so much serotonin that I HAD to draw this cute scene, I mean it was a need at this point. I have seen the game before and tried to look for tk fics about it and I couldn’t find much let alone art of it either so consider this a gift UwU.

[carrie-tate]

Top 22 of 2022 End of the Year Game Tag

Well, as I understand it, I, too, have been drawn into this tag game. At least I was to mention @otomiya-tickles and @happyandticklish, thanks for that, in any case, I'm glad to join)

Part 1: Fandom Faves

1. Favorite new fandoms of the year You know, there are no exclusively new fandoms this year. Rather, my love for a couple of old fandoms caught fire in a new way. Like Mob Psycho 100 or Psychonauts. Oh! Milo Murphy's Law, Kaitou Joker, Inside Job, Super 4 (this two actually new…) and Percy Jackson too btw! Balan Wonderworld is deserves a mention too Okay, okay, that's all, otherwise I'll just go into the enumeration of ALL fandoms in general, because I don't know how to choose my favorite

2. Favorite new ships since this year If I lower my impudent ships with s/i, then I will say: Milo/Amanda (Milo Murphy's Law), Annabeth/Percy (Percy Jackson) Well, obviously Terumob and Shoritsu (Mob Psycho 100), haha

3. Favorite anime/TV show of the year Oh I also started watching Supernatural this year and I should keep watching (while I'm stuck on the first episodes of season 4), I definitely like this show Speaking of anime - Mob Psycho 100 and Kaitou Joker, I haven't really watched anything else huh

4. Favorite movie of the year Complicated question, yet I watch a lot of things, but at the same time I remember a little… Only Klaus (2019) and Rise of the Guardians come to mind, which I'm going to review closer to the holidays

5. Favorite character of the year Shigeo Kageyama (Mob Psycho 100), Rasputin Aquato (Psychonauts), Mini-Mini-King (Kaitou Joker), Stoll Brothers (Percy Jackson), Brett Hand (Insider Job)… *mumbles in enumeration*

6. Favorite soundtrack of the year The Meat Circus from Psychonauts (this tune haunted my mind for a month while I was playing the second part and actively sat in the fandom, haha) Crazy Necross from Vangers GO GO REIGEN! from Mob Psycho 100 which I just found but I love it and want to set it as my ringtone lol The whole Gris ost (the ending of the game makes me cry when I need to…), the whole Beetlejuice east… I guess that's it, heh.

7. Favorite book/manga/comic of the year Percy Jackson book series (honestly, I promise myself to still find time and read the Mark of Athena from the second cycle TwT)

8. Favorite game of the year Psychonauts 2, this game literally became the first platformer (well, in general, a game where you need to run, jump and beat enemies) that I went through completely And Little Inferno too

9. Highlight of this year to remember Entrance exams and college admissions, god it was this summer but it feels like it's been YEARS

Part 2: Community Review

10. Favorite Tumblr moments of 2022 To be honest, I haven't been as active on tumblr this year, so I have no idea what happened here in a year. That is, perhaps I know, but most likely I do not attach any importance to this.

11. Favorite fan art of the year Oh, there were two memorable fanarts that come to mind here and here

12. Favorite fic of the year Can I just say that ALL of Kanene's MP100 fics are my favorites at the moment? Like, so much so that I can't remember anything else lol

13. Favorite ask game of the year It's not like I'm involved in a lot of that, is it..? Maybe that recent fandom thing? This was fun

14. My top achievements as a writer/artist/creator/blogger The fact that I was able to get out of the shell and start interacting with really cool people from tk community, and the fact that I literally carring the mp100 fandom with my sketches, lmao

15. My own best fic/post of the year If we talk about the post that I am proud of, then this is one of the last posts with the Kageyama bros. I think I did a really good job on the poses this time

16. My most underappreciated fic/post of the year My posts are related to mp100 Beetlejuice!AU, because I want to develop this idea, but I think that people are not very interested in it

17. A post of mine that got more popularity than expected I'm still surprised by the popularity of that art with Shoritsu, which was one of my first posts on mp100 here, and probably one of my most popular posts in general…

18. Something I changed on my blog since this year Well, my blog is only a year old, so I can't say anything definitive…

Part 3: Next Year

I have such a spontaneous lifestyle that I don't have anything planned for next year huh, so I can't seem to answer the questions below…

19. Something I didn’t post this year but would like to do next year 20. Goals for next year 21. 2023 releases I look forward to the most

Part 4: Spreading Love

22. Shoutouts to people who made my 2022 a better year Well, then I'll throw everything under keep reading

@candyheartedchy, thank you for the fact that formally it was with you that my acquaintance with the existence of such a thing as s/i and f/o began! Your art is amazing and inspiring! @kanene-yaaay, I am sincerely grateful for every reblog of yours, like, this is one of the main incentives why I draw now. You are so emotional and bright, it's just amazing! @misaki-just-doodles and @we-dont-talk-about-potato-nonono, yes, we haven't talked in a while, but I'm really grateful to you two for supporting my work this summer. It was a great time and I hope you are doing well! @otomiya-tickles @ssnicker-doodless @vqler @thecomfortable even if it's still a little embarrassing for me to tag you, I want to say that I admire your creativity and you are like those cool older comrades that you look at and think "I want to be like this when I grow up", thanks for that!

[skribblz]

Could you do Lee!Ojiro with someone you choose? I just want a wagging tail 😭💖💖💖

thank you for the first request since the reopen! the wagging tail idea is so cute!! I also wanna give back to the writers that contribute so much amazing content to our community, so I’ll be sprinkling in some art based off of their work!!! 

inspiration: @kanene-yaaay’s fic <3