#this blog was inspired by another is-this-(shhh) blog but i wanted to do something with one of my own interests
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is-this-tf · 1 year ago
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Is it TF?
TF, as in Transformation, is a concept that can mean quite a few things to many different people- and when depicted in art or media, usually consists of some sort of physical or psychological transformation of one thing into another, often including the contexts before or after such a change occurs. 
For the purposes of this blog, the assumed pretense that the TF or TF-adjacent content depicted in posts on this blog being nonsexual in this manner is considered the default, and will be treated or engaged with as such unless clarified otherwise, but there are plenty of ways those who engage in TF art can enjoy it! There are many who consider it a paraphilia for themselves and commonly enjoy it as a sexual theme (as explained and described very well in this comic here), but it is also quite common for people to enjoy it entirely nonsexually, as well- perhaps exploring it under a lens of gender, as a vessel or narrative device to communicate themes, or just liking it as an unrelated special interest... TF is fascinating and alluring concept in itself, regardless of the ways it can be enjoyed and explored.
I made this blog because I love it when I see people unintentionally making TF posts on tumblr. I feel like it happens a lot and I think it's really, really funny when it does, by accident or not. Feel free to tag me in posts or send in questions asking if something is TF, and I'll give my honest answer as an expert in the field myself. 
Don't forget, words to live by:
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Primary tags: #this is tf, #this is tf art, #unintentional tf, #intentional tf, #definitely intentional tf, #not tf
Additionally: Now taking TF or Pass requests and suggestions, just for fun! Please just limit suggestions for this if you want to play to sending me an ask, for me to answer from my inbox rather than being tagged in posts. Linking posts in asks for this is fine, but please specify the character you are asking me to rate in the text of the ask as well. All posts related to this on this blog will be tagged #tf or pass.
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poppydedicant · 1 year ago
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Munday Survey !
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Name/Alias: Kuroki, Kuro, Tsubaki, Stolen
Age group: 20s, 25.
Pronouns: Any or she/her
Favorite color: Pink ftw.
Favorite food: White rice or fries.
Tattoos/piercings?: None/the regular piercing.
Current song stuck in your head?: At this very instant? ETA by Ken.shi Yone.zu (it's just so very Popshi, whenever I enter this blog I just get transported to a song that reminds me of him.) Moongazing, too, but shhh...
Pets?: None.
Favorite book?: None.
Do you have a 'prized possession'?: The letters friends and family have sent me throughout the years.
Dream job: Author for sure, but also lowkey baker.
Tea or coffee?: Coffee.
Hobbies: Aside from writing? Just playing videogames.
How long have you been role-playing?: I don't know the exact year... I was like in 3rd grade or something when I recall roleplaying over text messages on my minute phone lol.
Who is your most active muse: Surprisingly, all of my FFXVI ones. Popshi, Olivier, Moss, Quinten, and even Clive who is a little more behind the line than the others.
Significance behind your url?: Super easy for this one. Usually, I tried to make urls have the same first letter of each name of the character, so I usually look for words following that and a good description of the character. Popshi being Popshi Derella, I knew I wanted a word with "p" a the start, and another with "d". It was a matter of looking for terms that would fit him with those letters. Popshi's look and aesthetic are poppy-like, and I adore poppies and flowers in general (which is also part of his aesthetic and nature, lol punny,) not to mention I wanted the "pop" part of his name to be seen all throughout because of the song he is inspired from, so poppy hit all of the best descriptions for him (and also for people to get a feel of his name almost, since Popshi and poppy sound so similar.) And "dedicant" is kind of a synonym for witch, what he is, so that was an easy catch.
Tagged by: @heartsurpluss (thank you! Always bringing the best stuff!)
Tag some friends: @blindedguilt @knights-piety @grandgrief @haacked @kcnnedies And anyone else who has not done it yet!
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ofpolitics · 10 months ago
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Happy New Year, Kitty! I just wanted to pop in and express my utmost gratitude for having you as a writing partner and a friend. This past year has been full of riveting and delightful slice of life plots. Along with so many inspiring chats and enthusiastic research deep dives. You are so much fun to talk to. Regardless of what blog you are on, your creativity brightens up the dash. I never get tired of reading your headcanons and little research facts. Your writing style is succinct but beautifully executed. You have a lovely way of building a scene and subtly expressing a characters thoughts and emotions through actions. Which is what writers aspire to do. I am forever entranced by the creative flare of your various verses. I can see how much thought you put into them and, as a fellow researcher, the influence of history and literature upon your projects is evident- and only makes them even more engaging. My curiosity is always piqued when you turn out something new. Also how can I forget that you & @debelltio introduced me to one of my new favorite rare pairs, duchineer. I'm being completely honest when I say I keep my eyes peeled for their threads, edits and other content because I am a huge fan! I also wanted to thank you for indulging my research rambles and for being so patient with me during my on-and-off plotting, My busy schedule does not oblige but you always do and I appreciate you so much for that. Here's to another year! I am so honored to be your mutual!
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i'm finally answering this after hoarding it like a little porg! oh, ame, thank you so so much. i definitely absolutely value your friendship just as much, and you know how much i enjoy writing with you. i love that you see my enthusiasm of research come through as much in my writing as when talking about it. it brings me so much joy to discuss all the nuances and the fun little details we've noticed! i can't wait to write what we've come up with!
and hehehe, yes, orson and satine are something else entirely and i adore writing them so much. and shhh, i've told you before and i'll tell you again, you're such a joy i'd happily wait months to get a reply to something in plotting. eventually, i'll hopefully be just as busy so i absolutely get it.
thank you so much too for being my mutual! you're the best!
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shokos-lazy-life · 1 year ago
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Hi!I am new to your blog and I noticed you read the Demon Slayer manga so I hope I don't spoil something for you!The thing is I am brainstorming this idea that I may or may not turn into a fanfiction of reverse demon slayer thing but instead of Tanjiro and Nezuko,it's Yoriichi and Kokushibou?Any help?Do you think you maybe have any ideas?Thank you in advance and also I love your blog, it's really pretty!
Oh my god,you are adorable!
Thank you for the compliments!
And welcome to the Kimetsu no yaiba fandom,I promise everyone is lovely,well so far I haven't seen anyone making any fuss.
I think we are all too sad for that hahahh.
You are writing a fanfiction?!Go for it!I am sure it is going to be amazing!
No worries I don't mind spoilers.
and reverse?
As in Yoriichi and Michikatsu are the main characters?One a demon and another a slayer trying to turn them back?
That is an amazing idea but gosh it sounds daunting I wish you all the best.
As for if I have any ideas?Sure,I am no writer tho.
Also you didn't specify who's the demon and who the slayer.
I think I saw fanart,really good ones too,of Kokushibou as Nezuko and Yoriichi as Tanjiro somewhere,that could be used as inspiration,I am sure.
But since Yoriichi has been through enough in my very biased opinion I'll go like this!
So that last interaction between Yoriichi and Kokushibou was their final moments too.
Let's go with Yoriichi blitzed Kokushibou and one shot him out of misguided guilt or because he wanted his brother to find peace or whatever.
Like I don't think that screws with the canon that hard,like Muzan will find a new Upper Moon who cares.
So they both died leaning on each other and as Yoriichi is older and human he dies faster and falls on Kokushibou disgusting him in process because Kokushibou gotta Kokushibou,until the little flute falls out and Kokushibou spots it.
And then it's tears and guilt fiesta and lamenting and feeling sorry for oneself as Kokushibou ought to do.
And finally Michikatsu is back.
And promises to do better,to protect Yoriichi in their next life,to be a better brother. Because here Yoriichi went against himself and his own vow of not wanting violence to fulfill his duty,like the shock and sadness probably killed him here.
Realistically Kokushibou would still be mad but shhh we need that guy to have some redeeming qualities.
Michikatsu dies clutching the flute and Yoriichi's hand.
Yoriichi dies crying and clutching his brother's hand.
Upper Moon 1 is no more.
Hopefully his clothes stayed with Yoriichi's corpse and someone found them and buried them because anon the fact that we don't know what happened to Yoriichi's body after he died haunts me?Okay?Haunts me!
We know what happened to Uta,but Yoriichi?Nada!
Gotoge I need to talk!
Was he even buried?Did Kokushibou eat him?Did he bury him?Was he just left there to rot? Kokushibou was obsessed with what he left behind and made sure along with Muzan that Yoriichi basically got erased,did he just use some blood art fuckery to erase him? Hopefully someone buried my guy.
I got sidetracked.
But yeah in this au maybe Yoriichi gets buried with his brother's kimono and the flute.Hopefully by either a Hashira or one of the countless people he saved.
God forbid the Kamado's or Sumire somehow find him.
I am a big supporter of that amazing idea that Yoriichi got banged by the Kamado's like a screen door during a hurricane.
I mean Tanjiro bears such a resemblance for a reason yes?
Of course it could have been gods being cruel enough to reincarnate Yoriichi into Tanjiro or just basically curse Tanjiro with Yoriichi's life.
Seriously what if the reason we didn't see Yoriichi waiting for Kokushibou like every other demon got is that he is physically there as Tanjiro and therefore unable to be there?
Now that I think about if this crazy idea has any merit than Yoriichi got what he wished for and by the people he saw as family too through Tanjiro!A simple life with a family that lives him but Muzan still fucking exists!
That whole the people you help,help you back thing really is applicable here!
It's either that or Sumire,Suyako and Sumiyoshi all sat on Yoriichi and he is weak for them so..Only explantation I am allowing.
That or Kokushibou deserved eternal damnation but damn you can't tell me Yoriichi wouldn't have fought god himself to give that fucker a hug.
Again side tracked.
So some years pass and Yoriichi and Michikatsu get reborn again as twins because irony.
Now you can choose who's older and what families they have,do they have more siblings etc.
I personally would have put Michikatsu as a older brother to,you know,repent?
But it works even if Yoriichi is older because Michikatsu would have a brother complex anyway.Man just built too old Japanese.
So Yoriichi hopefully gets a clean slate because trauma and also give him some peace damn.
But Michi probably has some complex and self worth issues because he constantly thinks he isn't enough.
Maybe he remembers a la Tanjiro,thru dreams and random phantoms getting him down a peg or twelve.
Their names could be completely made up,the same,they could be descendants a la Muichiro and Yuichiro,could be Kamado's,whatever you want works.
You have extra guilt points if they belong to Tokito's or Kamado's with Michikatsu's jealousy about Kamado's obvious if he remembers.
Anyway they went to town or stayed home or whatever vague reason you could give so these two can meet Muzan.
And considering Muzan is a crackhead really anything works.
But whatever they are just walking or sleeping or minding their damn business when they see Satan.
Muzan obviously shits himself out of anger and fear both because Kokushibou and Yoriichi are both standing there.
So he grabs Yoriichi.
Instead of killing him which would be the smart choice,he turns him into a demon obviously.
Because Muzan is nothing if not pathetic,dramatic and ineffective.
Thing he panicked hard and was going to grab Michi first but instead in blind feral panic got Yoriichi, because like the ultimate asshole he was,he was about to recreate Kokushibou and have him kill Yoriichi because Muzan sucks like that.
And so gave him a huge amount of blood and panicked and gave him more when he noticed it Yoriichi hoping he would just explode or something.
But nah gods aren't done laughing at all of us so Yoriichi does turn and jeez he is pissed,that fucker tried eating his brother.
Meanwhile Michi is horrified because what the fuck or frozen if he remembers anything at this point.
So you just have demon Yoriichi and Muzan shitting himself and duking out and Yoriichi fucked him up but no nichirin blade so they have to wait until the sun.
A Hashira runs in to a most horrifying and baffling scene ever.
The progenitor of all demons is getting his ass whopped by what looks like a twelve years old juiced on demon blood and his brother is there holding a random object as a weapon.
There is gore and viscera on the floor everywhere.Muzan eventually throws in the towel and blasts off,leaving because Hashira or the sun is up or something.
A very pissed off Yoriichi and shaken Michi and a baffled Hashira stand there until Yoriichi notices the Hashira and starts attacking.
Michi finally get his shit together and jams the flute into Yoriichi's mouth and like fuck is Yoriichi running that precious gift so he calms.
Hashira tells them to get the fuck out off the sun because demons burn in it,but nah it's been the morning for a few hours now and Yoriichi just swinging his legs on the porch completely fine.
Because his existence is meant to fuck with Muzan,and yeah he conquered the sun immediately.
Now the Hashira has the daunting task of explaining all this bullshit to the others and Oyakata-sam somewhat coherently.
Bonus points if the Hashira is either Muichiro or Rengoku for double gut punch.
Now Michikatsu gets to be a slayer,a poor main character and hopefully a better brother with Yoriichi as his overpowered cute sidekick.
Chaos abounds!
Now for the short points:
Yorii is on demon time all the time and instead of people the sun powers him so he is yet again the boogeyman to all the demon and a personally insult to Muzan because fuck that guy.
Yorii is straight up feral,he bites,kicks,growls if you look at him or his brother wrong and his blood demon art thing is probably some unholy mix of sun breathing and demon magic bullshit,like he kicks you and now that part is permanently sun burned,so he is lethal to fight against and as fast as the actual sun.
Yorii adores kids and babies especially, everyone is too afraid to ask why.Like give him the butterfly triplets and he is entrained for hours playing hide and seek with them.
He looks demonic all the time because the amount of blood he was injected with,so like slit eyes,hair probably blood red and a unholy cross of sun shading and blood shade tips in his hair.covered in head to toe in the sun mark that of course sprouted on his forehead because of course it did.
Yorii walks around in his twelve years old form unless he needs to help someone reach something and then he turns 6 ft and gives Michi a hear attack.
Yorii prefers the kid form,he can feel his brother is uncomfortable with his adult form.
The flute is constantly in Yorii's mouth and he has this adorable habit of calling for Michi by playing a short tune on it.
So far only Uzui and Michi figured out the flute language down.
Hashiras are just baffled and sometimes unnerved by the small demon just lounging in the sunlight but it's completely peaceful,surely it's just a child?
A victim yes?You only get his side eye if you have some evil intention to his brother or whoever Yorii adopted into his family.
Michi of course has a guilt complex over 9000 here.
Especially if he remembers,dear god.
He failed,dear gods,did he fail.
And now he is also feeling guilty for anytime he envied Yoriichi,he is kinda offended that even Muzan's blood doesn't matter to Yoriichi tho.He really is blessed.
But all the guilt and self hate works out here because he gets decent company to tell him just how stupid he is.And he gets to beat demons with a stick.
He doesn't have people comparing him to Yorii now either.
The wonder of having better people to talk too.
He probably learns fire breathing or water breathing but modifies into Moon breathing baffling everyone because that's a thing?
He hangs out with Muichiro,Rengoku,Uzui, probably Shinobu?
He is always praising Muichiro on his talents but despairs over his lack of tact and manners.
Muchirio finds him an encouraging nagging mother hen and his brother a weird little bird.
What friends he has depends on how much you change the canon?Are the upper moons the same?
It will hilarious because Michi is such a chaotic idiot but loves to pretend to be a straight and honorable man and that leaves the Hashiras completely bamboozled because the man can be peacefully meditating and then turn around and yell at Muichiro because manners you ill mannered brat!How did descendent turn out like this?!!
And what was that even supposed mean?
This weird crochety old man who's actually a twelve year old!
Yorii doesn't give a fuck,his brother is the best brother.
And then the angst and anger you could pull if the Hashiras find out who Michi actually was and the angst of meeting Muzan again.
But hopefully by now he would have a better support group and more perspective and a knowledge that he isn't the only person important or wronged in this world!
As I said this fic has a lot of potential,a little research to be done sure,but if you are passionate about it,go for it!
I would personally read it and most certainly love it!
Also I haven't asked what genre you wanted so if it was horror or humor or smut?
Go ahead and ask,I am not here to judge after all and I love trading ideas!See ya and all the good luck to you!
I hope this helped!
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angelbaby-fics · 2 years ago
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stucky x little!reader
What if during the night someone breaks into their home…daddies were up anyway in the bedroom with little one that was sleeping in their bed. but when they hear the commotion downstairs, it wakes up little one and she starts tearing up because she’s scared….but one of the daddies goes to call back up while the other one stays behind to calm little one down…
You can do really whatever you want with this story 🤍
Safe Room
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Word Count: 2k
Pairing: Mob!Stucky x Little!Reader
Warning: Slightly darker than my usual fics due to the mob AU! Nothing too scary I hope!!
A/N: Sorry I changed it up a little!! :O if you want something closer to your original request I’d be happy to write it!! This is just what came to me while I was writing so I went with it lol <3 I'm very excited to see The Gray Man soon and it inspired me to try writing some Mob!Stucky, a trope I love but have never written before!! Also the paci is a reference one I just bought from @princeminnow and I highly recommend you guys check out his blog! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!!
You had your own bedroom, painted your favorite color with a big comfy bed and lots of blankets. Shelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with stuffies and toys, as well as your ever expanding collection of little gear. The closet doors almost couldn’t close over the amount of both practical clothing and dress up costumes you had. Despite all this, however, your bedroom was not your favorite room in the house. It’s not that you weren’t thankful or that you didn’t like it - you loved it after all! But if you got to choose, you’d spend every moment you could in Steve and Bucky’s room, engulfed in their scent and aura. 
That's where you found yourself on this particular night, one hand tangled up in Bucky’s fingers, the other around your stuffy. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, only meaning to get some evening cuddles while Bucky read his book, but when your eyes started to feel heavy, you didn’t fight it. Your mouth hung open, having fallen asleep without a paci, and Bucky didn’t want to risk waking you by getting up to get you one. Besides, Steve would be home any minute now, and not only could he go retrieve a pacifier for you, but would also get the treat of seeing you curled up with Bucky. He needed it after the day he’d had. 
Bucky heard Steve unlock the door and hoped he’d enter quietly, but when the closing of the door was followed by a harshly whispered curse word, Bucky immediately knew something was wrong. He heard Steve climb the stairs, two or three at a time, as fast as he could towards the bedroom. Steve didn’t even have time to take in the adorable sight in front of him, nor Bucky the time to ask Steve what was wrong. Steve scooped you up as gently as he could, hoping not to wake you. If the change in position didn’t wake you, he feared his rapid heartbeat or the quake in his voice would.
“Someone’s in the house.” He said quietly, hoping to convey the urgency of the situation to Bucky as quickly as possible. “We need to get her to the safe room now.”
Bucky nodded, immediately getting up out of bed and crossing the room to the closet where he kept some weapons. 
“You take her, keep her calm. I’ll take care of this.” Bucky said in his stubborn way.
“No, they already know I’m here, they don’t need to know anyone else is home.” Steve replied, trying to hand you to Bucky.
“I’m not letting you face this alone.”
“We can’t leave her alone!” Steve countered, knowing Bucky couldn’t argue with that.
Bucky took you from Steve’s arms, grateful that you hadn’t woken up in all the commotion yet.
Then a crash came from downstairs. Your face scrunched up as you debated whether the noise was worth waking up over, but another curse word from Steve’s lips made your eyes shoot open. 
“Daddy what?” You muttered, voice heavy with sleep. 
“Shhh angel, everything’s alright,” Steve whispered to you, “just go back to sleep babydoll.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him as the commotion downstairs continued.
“Daddy what’s goin on?!” You cried, starting to panic.
Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance.
“Take her. I’ve got this.” Bucky said, coldly and quietly so as to express his urgency to Steve without scaring you further. Steve nodded as Bucky got dressed, hiding a gun in his waistband.
“Hey honeybear, we’re gonna go on a little late night adventure, okay? But you gotta stay really quiet and be a good girl for Daddy, alright?”
You knew Steve well enough to know that he was trying his hardest. Even though he protected you from the truth, the big part of your brain knew that your daddies dealt with dangerous people. Even though they kept their business as far from you, their little girl, as they could, you still noticed every time one of them came home with a black eye or blood on their shoe. You learned it was best not to question it. And even though Steve focused every cell in his body to keep you calm, you knew even in your sleepy little state that whatever was going on was very, very bad. 
You stayed quiet, just as Steve commanded, but you couldn’t stop the tears filling your eyes and dripping down your face. You were too scared to even sniffle as Steve ran through the halls of your big house, pressing you into his chest so hard it almost hurt. Steve stopped at a bookshelf, in which room you couldn’t tell as all the lights in the home had been turned off. He checked his surroundings to make sure the two of you hadn’t been followed before tugging on the edge of a book and pulling the hinged bookcase away from the wall. He hurried inside with one arm holding you to him and the other shutting the secret door as quietly as possible. Once he heard it latch, he pressed a code into the number pad on the wall and continued through the snaking hidden hallways of the house. He reached a sturdy locked door, punched in the code for that one as well, and once inside, attempted to set you down. But you weren’t having that. 
Your breathing turned to panting as you desperately clung to Steve’s torso like a koala. 
“Shhh baby it's okay. You’re safe now, I promise.” He said softly to you, rubbing his large hands up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you.
You looked up at him with giant, terror-filled eyes before he realized what you were likely thinking.
“It's alright, honey, nobody can hear us from in here. It’s soundproofed.” He reassured you.
You slowly stopped fighting him, allowing yourself to be set down on the ground. You looked around with wet eyes at this room you hadn’t even known existed. The walls were painted a calming lavender, and though the room was small, there was a big comfy couch and a plush rug on the floor. A shelf against the wall held books, a radio, and a collection of movies, presumably to be played on the large TV on top of a chest of drawers against other wall. Steve guided you gently to the couch, pulling a giant cozy blanket off the arm and wrapping it around you.
“Please Daddy, what’s happening?” You asked, choking on the sobs you’d been stifling since you’d heard him swear.
“Oh sweetie. Daddy accidentally brought a bit of work home with him, didn’t he? Silly Daddy, huh?” He joked, hoping to cheer you up at least a little bit considering the circumstances, but you continued crying. 
“But thankfully, Baba is being really brave, and he’s gonna fix it all while you and I hang out down here, alright?”
“Is Baba gonna be okay?” You asked, trembling.
“Oh, of course baby. You know how strict Baba can get when you break the rules? Well he’s gonna use his scary voice to make these men go back home.”
Big you knew better; big you knew Bucky was down there killing those men, those men who had likely come to kill him, or Steve, or worse. But little you didn’t have to worry about that. As far as little you would ever know, these men had really come just to talk. Steve’s explanation calmed you down enough that he was no longer afraid you’d pass out from hyperventilation.
“How long is it gonna take?” You asked.
“I don’t know, baby. Hopefully not long. But look! Baba and I filled this room with tons of activities for whenever we need to come play down here!” Steve pointed towards the shelf, and upon closer look you noticed that all the books and movies were for little kids like you. The bottom shelf even held a stack of coloring books and a box of art supplies. As much as you loved to craft and color, you shook your head before nuzzling back into Steve’s chest.
“Oh, I understand, baby. It’s a lot right now, isn’t it? And it’s way past your bedtime! Now hang on, I know I put some in here somewhere…” He muttered the last bit to himself as he rose from the couch, with you still attached to him. He strode over to the drawers under the TV, opening one, the other, and finally finding a collection of brand new paci’s in the third drawer he checked. Your eyes lit up, you hadn’t even realized you’d been without your comfort item for so long.
“Check that out angel,” Steve smiled. “Every time you come down here, you get to pick a new paci to use. You like that?”
You nodded softly before pointing to a blue paci featuring an illustration of a big daddy bear hugging a little baby bear.
“Like me an’ you…” You whispered as Steve picked it up and popped it into your mouth, unable to resist pinching your chubby cheek, and you giggled. Steve carried you back over to the couch, intending to cuddle you as long as you needed him too and then even longer after that. But just as soon as he lowered the two of you onto the overstuffed cushions, Steve’s phone rang in his pocket. You tightened your grip around him slightly, looking up with wide eyes as he fished the phone from his pants. “It’s just my phone, baby, look.” He said, holding up the screen with Bucky’s contact photo displayed on it. “Baba calling?” You asked around your paci, reaching up at the phone.
“I’m gonna answer it first, okay? And then you can talk to him, is that alright? Can you be patient for Daddy?” He asked, and you nodded solemnly, playing with the hem of the blanket while Steve answered the phone. 
Even if you could make out the words on the other end of the line, you doubt you could have made sense of them considering the state you were in at the moment. 
“I love you too. See you in a minute.” Steve finally spoke, before hanging up the phone. You gasped. “I wanted to talk to Baba!” You said, beginning to tear up, but Steve scooped his arms around you and picked you back up. 
“You can, angel, in just a minute! He said the coast is clear, we can go back out and see him now.” He said, walking you towards the door, and he felt you tense around his body. 
“‘S it safe now, Daddy?” You asked cautiously. 
“It is, baby, I promise.” Steve replied, unlocking the sturdy door and carrying you out into the long passageways within the house.
“Pay attention to this, baby, I need to make sure you can come down here by yourself if you need to.” Steve commanded, and then sensing your anxiety rising again, he added “Don’t worry, angel, it's just in case. Daddy and Baba will try to be with you always.”
You watched your path, taking note of how many turns there were and when to take them, before you and Steve reached the back of the bookcase door. 
“This is the password, baby, see?” He demonstrated putting the numbers into the keypad, the code was your birthday, which made you smile. The door opened to reveal Bucky on the other side.
“Baba!!” You cried, reaching out towards him.
“Hey angel,” Bucky smiled, accepting you into his arms while Steve embraced the two of you, your little family at long last reunited after a brief but stressful night. 
When Steve pulled apart from you, he turned to the door, shutting it behind him. He placed his hand on a book and looked you in the eye.
“If you ever have to go down there, you pull on this book, alright?” He said, and when you squinted your eyes against the dim hallway, you noticed it was a book of your favorite fairy tales. Of course it was.
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Taglist: @babybatdani @cherryynoir @simpingbutch @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @mogaruke @flthyhrts @mariexoxosblog @stuckysgirl27 @midnight-dreams-23 @mischiefsemimanaged @0witchtrials0 @my-river-lilly @erynnnn @tired-spider-siblings @tamzindouglas @st3rgirl ​​@rach2602 @bradfordmyworld @keirabux @teddybearsgrr @sleepybabyxo @bunnyweasley23 @simpforsebastianstan06 @angies1021 @acahope311 @marvel1984 @little-love-bee @charliessafespace @avoyen1998 @milfdilfslayer23000 @mylittlesafehaven99 @bootlegmothman420 @lokisgirlszendaya @thenextavengerpost @bunnybubbls
please note that due to how big its getting i will be revamping my taglist in the near future so keep an eye out!!
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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago
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Warm Hands
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Summary; Its your fourth date with Henry and you still haven’t slept together, so when you arrive at his house for a picnic, you are surprised to find that he needs your professional help as a physiotherapist. But once you get your warm hands on his body, neither of you can hold back much longer.
A continuation of my Henry x Physio Reader story previous part here
A/N This is wholly inspired by Henry’s recent instagram post and the part where he said that no-one needs to see him in his underwear on the kitchen table because I CERTAINLY DO.
Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Physiotherapist Reader 
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, massaging Henrys thighs, sports injury, Henry in his underwear, unwanted erections, unprotected sex, Henry being slightly dom, reader taking control, creampie. 
Unbeta’d, all typo’s are free range and organic. I do not run a tag list but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post something new, AND its where you can find my previous works.
Warm Hands
Parking your little car in the corner of the secluded driveway you shut the engine off and chewed nervously on your lip. It was your fourth date with Henry and he’d casually invited you for a picnic ‘in the quiet countryside’, but hadn’t been specific on the end time of your date. What was making you nervous was that you hadn’t actually slept together yet and the vagueness of the end time had you wondering. 
Your first date had been coffee a few weeks after meeting when you’d stumbled upon him injured in the park during your lunch break from the hospital where you worked as a physiotherapist. Second date had been to a rugby game where he’d put too much strain on his injured leg and had ended with him scheduling an appointment with you for some professional physio treatment. Third date had been dinner at a fancy restaurant that had ended with a mind blowing kiss in your hallway but nothing further as he had to get home to let Kal - his dog - out for an evening bathroom break.
So now you were at date number four and you were more than ready to take the relationship to the next level. You glanced at the small overnight bag you’d packed ‘just in case’ with a few essentials. Deciding to leave the bag in the car for now, you got out and made your way to the small kitchen door of the mews cottage, Henry having explained how it was the best door to come to. What you weren’t expecting to see as you looked through the glass section of the door was Henry grimacing in pain as he steadied himself on the kitchen counter. Trying the doorknob you stepped inside;
“Oh my god, what’s wrong?!” slipping your hands beneath his arms as he winced and kept all his weight on one leg.
“Cramp…” he gasped; “... in my thigh…”
Looking down you only then realised he was in just his underwear below the waist, the muscles in his thigh tense and frozen. Just then the steam iron hissed and you saw that he must have been pressing his smart chino’s just before you’d arrived;
“Ok, let's get you rested somewhere… hop onto the table…”
You helped him move the few feet to his massive wooden table that ran the centre of his kitchen, quickly moving a pile of papers on there and setting them down elsewhere, before noticing the switch for the iron and flicking that to off. Returning to Henry you placed your hands onto his cramping thigh, the muscles rock solid where the spasm was in full hold.
“Uurggh ah uuuhhh” Henry moaned, wincing and sucking in a sharp intake of breath as another spasm shot through his muscle. 
You held your hands over the muscle trying to warm it so it could relax, rubbing the skin as he whimpered from the pain;
“Shhh it’s ok, it’ll go. We just need to warm your leg up”
Running your hands around his thigh you attempted to remain as professional as possible, but the sight of his quite frankly enormous thighs under your hands were a sight to behold. Looking up you saw that Henry had his arm thrown across his face as the spasms kept sending waves of pain through his leg, and it was then that as you moved your hand around the inside of his thigh that you felt it. You couldn’t help but to look where your knuckles had just touched, your eyes going wide as you saw the considerable bulge he had packed in there. Another whimper from his lips pulled your attention away from the elephant’s trunk in the room, rubbing your hands over his thigh as it still cramped. 
Nothing seemed to be having any effect, and it was then that you saw his hand was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were going white;
“Hen… you’re going to have to relax… let go of the table…”
He took a deep breath before finally speaking, his voice small and quiet;
“I can’t…”
“Why?”
“Because if i relax, i won’t be able to hold it back…”
It took you a few seconds to realise what he was talking about before with a dawning realisation hit that he was fighting a hard-on. What you did next surprised him enough to have him pull his arm away and look at you with wide eyed wonder, as you’d climbed into the table and straddled his thighs, your soft summer skirt falling around you. Resting your hands on his chest you nestled your leg right against his, the warmth of your skin starting to soothe the cramp;
“There…” you smiled at him; “Plus now you can relax as everything is hidden by my skirt…”
He glanced down to where you were sitting on him and you watched as he finally let go of the table, stretching his fingers out before with a smile rested his hand on your hip;
“Thank you… and i’m sorry…”
“What are you sorry for?”
“For… well…” he actually blushed, his cheeks and nose a beautiful shade of pink as he looked away bashfully; “I didn’t want you to think… umm, i don’t know really, i didn’t want to pressure you into anything…”
Resting your hands on his stomach you gently leaned forwards, your face over his as you smiled;
“You wouldn’t be pressuring me… i want this..”
At your works you rocked forward a little, knowing there was just the thinnest of lace between you and the jersey fabric that was struggling to contain Henry’s arousal. You watched as his expression change, his eyes grew a little darker and he licked his lips;
“Again…”
This time when you rolled your hips you found his other hand had grasped your hip too, his firm grip adding to the smooth roll as you ground your core against his hardening arousal. 
“C’mere…” he suddenly pulled you flush with his chest, his mouth upon yours as he kissed you fiercely which you eagerly reciprocated. The kiss was fiery, teeth and tongues before he suddenly gasped and pulled away; “FUCK!... The cramp’s back…”
Quickly sitting up you settled your weight over his thigh, the warmth from between your legs immediately soothing the strong muscle beneath you. Henry’s expression dropped and he look liked a sad kicked puppy;
“Its ok… it’ll go soon…” you reassured him
He let out a deep sigh;
“I just… i want to be able to please you…”
“To… please me?... Oh…” you took hold of his hand; “Henry… you will please me…”
“But… if i’m not at peak performance… i wanna bring my best game to our first time, ya’know?”
And just like that the blush was back on his cheeks, and you finally realised why he had been holding back;
“Henry… i really like you… like really like you, to be blunt just this brief grinding on you has me close. You don’t have to be in control all the time” you softly pressed his hand to your chest; “And i’m kinda getting the idea that when you’re in bed with someone you like to be in control, right?”
“Well, you can still be in control even if you’re not on top…”
His hand gently squeezed your breast through your dress as you watched the realisation of what you said sink in, and a mischievous smile crept over his face;
“So… what are we waiting for?” he cocked an eyebrow at you and you couldn’t help but to laugh
“Your leg to stop cramping…”
“Oh… yeah…” he flexed the muscle beneath you and smiled; “Well, it seems ok now…” his other hand started to sneak beneath your skirts and it was your turn to be surprised;
“Henry! Now? Here?”
“Why not... you already said you were close, and as you can feel i’m ready…” he bucked his hips just the tiniest amount and you felt his considerable length rub against your mound.
“On the kitchen table?”
“Yes or No sweetheart…” just then his hand had found your panties and a thick finger was rubbing at your clit through the soaked lace
“Yes… fuck yes…”
You quickly lifted your hips enough to reach into Henry’s underwear and pull his erection free, marvelling at the thick girth and the heat of the silky skin against your hand, just as he pulled your underwear to the side. Rising up onto your knees you positioned him at your entrance and slowly sank down, gasping as his thickness stretched your velvet channel;
“Oh fuck…”
Beneath you Henry growled, his sharp teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he struggled to hold back from pulling you down, knowing that his size was a struggle to take at first and letting you go at your own pace would be worth it in the end;
“That’s it babe… doing so well” he let out a grunt as you took another inch, he could feel the warmth of your thighs as you got lower and was almost there, until he couldn’t hold out any longer and his hand instinctively pulled you down the rest of the way until he was balls deep inside you.
The moans that escaped your lips echoed around the room, your womb trembling from the sheer pleasure that was surging through you as you let your body adjust to his massive size. He rested both hands on your hips as you moved your own to his hard stomach, and with a grin you started to lift your hips and start to ride him.
“That’s it Babe” he praised you as he started to move your hips, to pull you down a little harder each time you would rise up on your knees; “Can feel your tight cunt squeezing me so hard already”
A litany of curses fell from your lips as he took control, moving you as if you weighed no more than a feather and he fucked you from beneath. Your orgasm was growing closer as whimpers escaped your lips, before with a blinding explosion in your mind you came with a scream. 
Henry was seconds behind, the tight squeeze of your cunt around him was enough to set his own orgasm off, pumping you full with rope after rope of his thick creamy seed, the knowledge that you’d be walking around all day with his cum dripping from you prolonging his orgasm even longer.
Henry pulled you down to kiss you, this time soft and gentle as his lips pressed to yours, your bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of your tryst. Resting on his chest you pulled away and smiled at him, his arms holding you tight;
“Do you still want to go on a picnic today? My friend has a hundred acre farm in the Surrey Hills, its beautiful”
“I’d love to” you started to push yourself up to decouple your bodies; “Sounds secluded too” 
“Oh, it is”
Carefully swinging your leg over Henry and climbing off the table, you extending a hand to him so he could side to the floor too;
“Can i suggest something then? Perhaps not chino’s then?”
He glanced at his still creased trousers as they sat on the abandoned ironing board;
“Why?”
“Grass stains” you said with a wink. 
Henry pulled you to his chest, his hand on your ass giving it a squeeze;
“Ooh naughty… good idea, i’ll go get my jeans… this is going to be a picnic to remember”
As he stepped away he called over his shoulder;
“If you brought an overnight bag might be worth bringing it in now, i fully intend on fucking you so much this afternoon you’ll be too exhausted to carry it in later”
Laughing you said ok as you went to your car, glad you packed multiple changes of underwear. As you returned to the house you went to pull a clean pair of panties out of the bag just as Henry was walking in buttoning his jeans and saw what was in your hand;
“No no, you’re keeping those panties on”
“But they’re soaked with your cum”
He wrapped his arms around you, his eyes dark with desire;
“That’s exactly why you’re keeping them on, the only other acceptable attire would to be bare beneath that pretty dress of yours, understand?”
“Yes Sir” you answered with a smirk as Henry grabbed the picnic basket and headed for the door. It was certainly going to be an afternoon to remember...
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kanene-yaaay · 4 years ago
Text
You’re going to tickle me first, right?
Kanene’s note: One day I will carefully plan beforehand a title. But that day is noooot today! sdfghjfrgtyujikdfgh.
I consider this the last story from that idea of lers + lees in more different scenarios. I already did all the sides and I am very proud of the results! Thankys for all the support <3333
Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:
* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Sanders Sides!
* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b
* This is Ticklish!Logan with Ler!Patton and Remus. Their relationship can be viewed as romantic or platonic. Around 2.300 words.
* Some fabulous works that inspired me with the idea and the teases (they’re from bnha)
* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/
* Take some time to remember about the litol cool things that you saw today! Fanfic, series, movies, a bird or a beautiful flower... anything that maded u happy! Drink water, sleep and eat! Today is another day and I’m proud that we’re both still here.
[~*~]
"Looking good, hot stuff." Arms hugged him from behind and Logan scoffed, as usual when confronted by feelings, behind his cup of coffee, drinking the remains of the liquid in a few gulps as he relaxed on the warm chest behind him. The morning was quiet and Patton’s humming on the kitchen was one of the few sounds that cut the air. Logan let his attention swim back to his book when the other began to nuzzle his neck, a small 'tsk' escaping between a tiny smile when his mustache hit a sweet spot on his shoulder.
 They both knew what that meant, after all, Remus wasn’t fond on keeping a subtle demeanor and they already had played this exact game thousands of times before.
 "Remus..."
 "Tickle me, Logan!" The pout was crystal clear on his voice, discarding the need of the other adult to turn back to notice it. "It’s been almost a week since last time! And. I. Need. My. Daily. Doses of. Tickles."
Logan growled, ignoring the amused crackle behind him and instead focusing on hiding his now complete red face on one of his hands, the other tightly gripping his book and depositing it on the tabletop in front of him. "How can you say this so nonchalantly?" It was his almost inaudible muffled whisper.
 "Because watching you become a blushy-blushed mess is sooo fun. ~"
 Another nuzzle, Logan scrunched his neck, containing his reactions.
 "Now, now, Re. Teasing Logan about how he is the most adorably-adorable bumblebee when he gets all blush-y and soft-y about tickling isn't very nice." Patton chirped from his spot, almost finished from doing the dishes, since the most serious of their group had been responsible for their breakfast and Remus would be making their dinner today. He could even pass as being very serious if it wasn’t for the smirk on his features betraying his words. "You know he can't stand hearing the word tickle. Or tickling. Or tickly."
 "Or ticklish, or tiggle, or even tickle, tickle, tickle-"
 In a smooth, quick movement, Logan turned his body, now being the one encircling the taller waist with his arms, fingers clawing on his sides, but not moving. Yet.
 "That is enough of you, squeaky toy."
 And Remus knew that just their previous playful banter had been more than enough to prompt Logan to get some revenge.
 However…
 Seeing him like this was just too much fun.
 His eyes glinted, a grin expanding on his face. "He is sooo flustered. Pat! Look at him! Isn't he adorable?"
 "I know, right!" Patton squealed in delight at the tiny, infinitesimal smile showing on the most serious one, ignoring Logan's grunt as he tried to hide his face in Remus' shoulder, grumbling something about teases and stupid, confident friends "But we can't be mean with him, sweetpea. Even if he is so precious and full of such beautiful reactions that makes us want to tease him over and over and over again." He whispered the last part, as if he was sharing a secret and the person they were talking about wasn't dying in the middle of their room.
 "Even his ears are red, now!!" Remus also lowered his voice, blowing a light steam of air on them as he talked. "You're the one being mean to me.” Logan more felt than saw Remus pointing a finger accusingly to the other, “telling me I can't tease him even knowing he will be all helpless and shy and cute.”
 "I would like to state that I hate you."
 "Shhh, Lo-lo! We're whispering! Which means you can't hear us."
 Snickers floated freely in the air. Logan’s warning jab at Remus’ side only made part of them evolve to amused crackles.
 "I am literally between you two, unless you talk in a language I do not master nor understand I can very much process the exact meaning of what you're pronouncing."
 They giggled harder. Logan's scoff deepened, he tried to untangle himself from the hold and walk away to the security of his room and his valorous notebooks where he could carefully think and plan a very special, tickly revenge for both, but a soft kiss on his flaming cheeks placated his impulse, - although not his mostly dramatic scoff and roll of eyes.
 "Patton!!!!” The one wearing a green pajama whined as if the world was ending and he was not the one to blame because of that, drops of fake-sadness dripping on his tune. “He is even pouting!”
 "FALSEHOOD!"
 “That is not fair!! Not. Fair."
 "Okay, okay, my dear.” Patton gave in, calm words. Logan looked smugly at Remus, who was now in the hold of the pout.
 “You can tease him more, but just a little."
 Logan squeaked when Remus triumphally shoved his face on his neck, working his way across the spot, mustache tickling and itching, until he was able to deliver a couple of nibbles right under his chin, drinking up the muffled yelps and snickers that that caused.
 Patton's gentle voice hit his ears just as he threw his head back in an attempt to escape the attack. "Just say 'glasses’ and we stop, okay?"
 Remus didn't say anything, although he stopped his attack, a hand finding his and squeezing reassuringly. The shorter smiled, a warmth flooding on his chest and pouring out of it in the way softness found the corner of his eyes, immediately hiding any hint of it on Remus' shoulder and nodding. Quiet, mumbled words.
 "Green."
 “Aw, what is the matter? Not so serious now, are we?” Remus purred, each word vibrating on his skin. “What a shame, what a shame, what a sad end for our rational, professional nerd boy. Just a few tickles here,” he quickly pinched the other’s thigh, making the arms tight around his waist, consequently pulling him closer, “some attention there,” nails found and traced whatevers on the length of his lower back, “a couple of  teases and tickles aaand then you’re already all defeated. Aww, my poor, poor, sensitive ler. ~”
 His confident tone was broken by a squeal when the fingers resting on his sides squeezed that spot, wiggling for a few seconds before stopping, enough for the taller to try to squirm away, only to find himself well stuck on the arms securing him in the same place. His gaze found danger on Logan’s glare.
 “Oh,” shivers ran his spine, “is that so?” Another squeak flew from him when the fingers curled, nails grazing the ticklish skin. “Please, care to elaborate?”
 Remus' excitement was written over his entire face. He began to bounce, however his giddy energy was controlled enough for him to be able to lower his head, a shit eating grin plastered on his lips, hands locking behind the other’s neck, exposing even more the spots on his torso.
 "Do your worst, my ler. ~"
 “Gasp! Lo-lo!” Logan blinked and, oh, when he opened his eyes Patton was on his vision field, with an adorable pout and arms crossed. “I can’t believe you’re going to tickle him first. I thought I was your favorite Gigglebug!”
 Another grunt escaped from his lips. That was it. Logan was done.
 “Patton…” He warned, mind already running to how to turn the tables before he got caught on their teases again.
 “You’re definitely our favorite gigglebug, Pattycake.” Remus nodded, extending one of his arms behind him and pulling Patton swiftly when they locked their hands, succeeding in making them both sandwich the taller in a hug. He danced his fingers on the other’s neck, making his pout disappear in a soft huff. “Buuut, I have the best snorts and squeals here. So, sorry not sorry, it seems like I will be getting all the tickles today.”
 “No, no!” Patton quickly jumped in on the playful demeanor, smiling and clinging on Logan from behind, bubbly giggles already escaping from his mouth. “My ler!!” He nuzzled between his shoulder blades, the sudden move leading the coffee-addicted one to arch his back, a silent gasp escaping from his lips.
 “You are both being ridicuLOUS-” His voice hitched as Patton focused on a rather… sensitive spot on his back, too much next to his ribs and not away enough from his spine. “P-p-patton. Sssstop!”
 Unfortunately, the fact of him holding the wrists of the hands resting peacefully under his armpits, trying to pry Patton away also meant he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to the dangerous gleam surging on Remus’ eyes, nor the way his hands clawed in the air for a few seconds before descending on Logan’s hips, fishing a surprised shriek.
 “REMUS!”
 The aforementioned only smirked, thumbs digging on the ticklish flesh with ease, batting his eyelashes when Logan's awareness turned back at him, legs trying to kick himself away as his body squirmed in despair with the unexpected ruthless attack. “You’re going to tickle me first, right, nerd?”
 “No!!” The adult didn’t even get a chance to answer before kisses were being deposited on the sides of his neck, an index finger tickling that exact spot where it connected with his back, switching between encircling the spot to lightly scribble, scribble, scribble right on the middle on it, being careful to not let a single inch unattended. “I am the first! You’re such an amazing, lovely and good Ler, Logan! I won’t even cover my face this time! All the giggles and laughter and smiles just for you, cutiepants.”
 “Well, with me,” he highlighted the word by energetically scratching his others, previous free, fingers on his sides, delighted with the way the shorter’s laughter improved with it, “we can play all the tickle, tickly games he wants to! Hands up, Countdown, Don’t Smile, How Much Minutes Can You Endure… You name it, hot mess.”
 And a mess he was, indeed. Especially when Patton decided to pull his shirt up, slowly spidering his hands under the fabric, a tingly sensation following his path, and giggling as he prodded his way up to skitter his long, absurdly, horribly, amazingly long nails on the back of his ribs, sending shivers and tingles non stop on his torso. Both attackers cooing in synchrony as guffaws and squeaks started to paint his frantic laughter.
 “Lo-lo, don’t listen to him! I can help you to sing those nice, cute nursery rhymes that you like so much, remember? I love when we sing them together because you’re so great, smart and mean about it! Always doing things like crawling your fingers up, up, up, our ribs…” he punctuated his sentences by doing exactly what he described, “and then running them aaaaaall their way back to the sides!”
 “Wait!! Damn! Wait, please, wahahahait!”
 “Or when he discovers a new, horrible, unbearable spot,” Remus ignored the series of ‘nonono’s from the ‘victim’ as he focused two fingers on the patch of skin above his bellybutton, poking and pinching there, his free hand holding down the wrist that shoot in order to stop him “and he focuses all his attention on it, being sure to thoroughly tickle it and to remember us that we can wiggle and giggle all we want because we do absolutely nothing to stop it.”
 “And also, how much we love all of this! All the attention,” Patton kissed behind his left ear, traveling to the other with small raspberries when Logan clued it on his shoulder, shaking his head, “all the care,” kiss “all the teases,” a big raspberry “all the tickles,” a series of tender, soft pecks along his cheeks and ears “and how much happy that makes us feel!!”
 “And the best part? We will go on and on tickling you for hours and hours until we are all satisfied.”
 “I can’t! I cahahan’t!”
 “Yup!! We will just stay riiight here, giving you all the kitty kitty coo’s and coothie coothie coo’s you could ever want until we ask us to stop, okay? So, you just relax and enjoy it, Logie-bear.”
 “Plehehease!”
 “Tickle, tickle, tickle, nerd. What with that smile? Can’t take what you like to dish out? Tsk, such a pity, really. You know what is even greater, though? You can beg, you can say you’re sorry, you can promise to do anything we want but that won’t work. Do you know why?” Logan shook his head, a smile plastered on his face. “Because there is no reason for me to be doing this other than see you get tickled to pieces.”
 “Oh no, my dear, it seems like the tickle monsters got you! Isn’t that amazing? Having two lovely monsters who knows all your melt, fluff spots giving you exactly what you love? Knowing precisely what to do or what to say to make you a cute, adorable puddle of laughter and giggles that you so much love and crave to be? Huh? You absolutely love this, don’t you, my blushy bear?”
 “Enough! Enough!” Logan’s legs gave up, and in between his wheezing laughter, his yelps, squeaks and pleas a breathless ‘glasses’ made itself known, leading the tickling to a stop and to the three of them to lay carefully on the kitchen’s floor. Happy chuckles filling the silence.
 Silence.
 “So, did you choose which one of us you will tickle first?”
 “Actually, Pat-Pat, I think we make a great team.”
 Patton flung himself to the other, hugging him with a squeal. Remus couldn’t help but to reciprocate the touch, cooing over his excitement. “We do!!”
 “I agree.” Maybe it was how much closer and lower Logan’s voice was, or because of the thousands of memories that tune brought that made both froze so instantly, goosebumps traveling across their bodies with shots of adrenaline. “And I am sure you will make a much more endearing one, with matching helpless laughter and excited smiles, when I catch you. ‘When’ and not ‘if’, because I will find and catch you two, my ticklish lees. And when we are all reunited I am certain you will love all the ideas and experiments I have for you.” They slowly turned back, joyful expressions as their gaze found the malefic, playful glint shining along with the slightly blush on the Logan’s face.
 “You have five seconds.”
 Patton grabbed Remus’ hand, pulling them up.
 “Run.”
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feitansluver · 3 years ago
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Two Birds on a Wire (THE PROLOGUE)
a Feitan x Reader series (gender neutral)
Genre: romance, angst, fluff, smidge of violence
Series Summary: If you wish to see the series summary, check out my masterlist (which should be up now, if not just give me 10 mins) which you can access through my pinned navigations post on my blog. It might have a teensy bit of spoilers but nothing too drastic since this is a major wip.
Prologue Summary: This story's beginning takes place before the troupe was even a figment of anyone's imagination. Meteor City is a dangerous place, and many can vouch for me when I say this. The place where good deeds never come truly from the heart, but instead for the chance to get what you wanted from someone else. Here begins the story of how Feitan Portor and Y/n L/n would soon meet, for real this time.
Author's Note: This entire series is inspired by the song "Two Birds" by Regina Spektor. I originally wrote this as a small x reader for a writing sample, but I like it so much, it'll be a series instead. This is going to be a slow burn series. As you can tell from my headcanons, I'm super detailed when it comes to adding backstories. It's even worse w actual stories. I'm not too sure how many chapters this will be but, Please enjoy! reblogs, likes, and constructive criticism is appreciated. Heads up, this will be the shortest 'chapter' of them all, so do be prepared haha. Italicized = Flashbacks!
The aroma of decaying matter engulfed the air like a thick fog, pulling down and wrapping itself around the shiny newcomers to the rather large wasteland of an area. These newcomers weren't wealthy, no, instead, they were here for the ego boost that accompanied the action of them tossing any worthless item that would instantly be scavenged by a poor resident, usually a child since they were small and naturally agile. Well, as agile as they could be growing up eating other's waste. Those bastards with their sickening laughs of arrogance. They'd be frowned upon in a normal society, but here, oh here, this was just what they'd call a Wednesday.
Where exactly is 'here,' you may be asking? To the people passing through, they might've considered it to be hell. Perhaps a dumpster. Hell, they might have even passed through with out even noticing the cries of agony as a mother's child passed away from malnutrition, without noticing the way that no resident seemed to acknowledge anything other than themselves, even the murder of a shopkeep in broad daylight. No, see they're too focused on trying to steal to survive, perhaps even slave away to a more fortunate resident for a chance at life, if you could even call this living. 'Maybe they're just introverted people,' oh how naïve you must be to even succumb to that conclusion. 'Here' there is no such thing as introversion, with this trait, you won't survive for more than 10 minutes.
'Here' is none other than Meteor City.
Coughing could be heard around every corner from the ill, penniless residents who were selling everything in their possession just to survive another miserable day. A feeble attempt truly, it's not as though the medicine was at least 50% likely to cause some sort of change. Nonetheless, Meteor City wasn't too bad, no. Children scurried amongst each other, shouting with smiles upon their somewhat sunken faces as they played along the areas of the city that were truly wastelands. There were no true friends created in Meteor City, but these children have yet to understand.
All except for one. A rather small boy, whether that be from malnutrition or genetics, with black hair and heartless black eyes sat upon an old shipping crate with an uninterested look upon his young face as he watched the children run about. "How pedestrian," was all that came out of his cracked, dehydrated lips. Only an 8-year-old from Meteor would consider playing to be pedestrian. Aside from his shocking attitude, with one glance you could certainly tell he wasn't from here, such 'exotic' features couldn't have been bred in this hellhole. The boy was dressed in what seemed to be traditional Asian clothes, ones that were too big for his figure, all black and seemingly thick yet still lightweight enough to where he wouldn't die from a heat stroke, the word "Feitan" engraved over his left breast. Perhaps this was his name, neither he or the townsfolk new, but it was what they called him when they believed he wasn't looking. He was frequently seen mumbling to himself, and paired with his stone cold gaze, he was deemed "unapproachable" to others, adults and children alike.
"Hey, you!" A call from one of the children pulled Feitan out of his thoughts. The blackette raised his gaze to find another small child before him, taller yes, but no doubt younger, no stranger to his eyes yet not an aly. "My name's Marley. Do you want to play with us?" Feitan rolled his eyes in annoyance and spoke with his broken interpretation of the city's language. "Why would me want t-," He analyzed the other children beside the runt Marley and froze his gaze upon another small child, who was smiling as they spoke to a friend, one he's kept his eye on for a long time.
(Y/n) (L/n).
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2 years ago, Meteor City, 3rd Person Omniscient
The sky boomed a thunderous roar as lighting flashed across the city. Purples and dark ominous grey's colored over the townsfolk as the rushed their preparations for the storm. Adults were sheltering children, even if they didn't know them, most likely with the promise of something in return, while also taking in whatever possessions they needed before the storm's condition worsened.
A 4-year-old child, Y/n, ran about the poorly made streets, hoping to find a place of shelter before it was too late. Of course, since they're small and malnourished, they weren't very efficient, constantly stumbling over their two feet and pausing to catch their balance.
"Please, somebody help me!"
They continued to run through the now damp streets as the rain began to pour violently. Water drenched the poor child as they ran around banging on doors screaming for help, yet still, no one listened. It was almost as though the entire town had become a ghost city.Just as Y/n was about to give up, a hand grabbed their arm harshly and quickly pulled them into a small, dark, poorly-made shack.
Y/n jumped back in surprise with a yelp only to be pushed down by the other party, quite roughly might I add. "Shhh." A firm, seemingly male voice commanded with no other words as he sat beside the younger child. "Are you going to eat me??" Y/n spoke in a panicked tone. "The old lady by the library told me a story about a demon who comes out during horrible storms and eats the children who are wandering the streets." They cried with their arms curled around their legs, staring at the silhouette in fear beside of them.
The strange savior huffed under his breath. Why did he even pull this idiot into his home. Who was he to be providing shelter for others when he could barely take care of himself? God he never hated himself more until that moment. There was no place for some snotty kid, nor did he want to deal with them either. "Me no eat you. you taste bad, too whiny." Was all the boy said, hoping to get the other to take the hint and shut up.
"O-oh. My name's y/n, what's yours?" The 4-year-old spoke, no longer carrying a fearful tone. The older boy rolled his eyes at how naïve and trusting the other was. He didn't bother answering, and in fact, he never said another word to Y/n for the remaining duration of the storm.
Y/n ended up falling asleep after a while from all of the chaos earlier. The silhouette eyed the child beside him before closing his own eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. Soft snoring was all that was heard by the boy, aside from the pouring rain that is. Falling into his thoughts, he began to drift off into a light, alert slumber. Well, he was until he felt a weight hit his left shoulder.
His eyes shot open as he looked to his left with a scowl upon his face. "Idiot pest." He grumbled agitatedly as he noticed Y/n had fallen asleep on his shoulder. As much as he wanted to push them off, he quite enjoyed the quiet he was now receiving. With an annoyed sigh, he closed his own eyes and drifted to his previous light sleep.
When Y/n awoke with a yawn and began to identify their surroundings, they almost screamed in fear and confusion. They jumped up and racked their brain for some sort of explanation. Wait, it was coming to them now: the mystery boy and him providing them shelter. Properly looking at their surroundings, they noticed were still in the shack; however, this time, they were alone. With a quick glance outside, the small child ran out of the shack, patting themselves down to make sure they still had their items in their pockets.
A sigh of relief escaped their lips as they felt everything there. Digging into their pockets to find their last bit of money to buy a bit of food, Y/n noticed there was a folded piece of poorly maintained paper in their pockets. With a confused hum and a head tilt, they unfolded the piece of paper and read in poor grammar and messy writing:
"You owe me, Brat."
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They blackette's face remained in a deapan expression as his own eyes locked back with Marley's "Yes, me play." He spoke emotionlessly as he hopped down from his crate, dusting himself off as he began walking closer to the group of children. A handful of yays, yippees, and downright cries of joy could be heard from the crowd of children as they gathered one more player for their game. "Okay, great. So here's what we're going to play.."
The voices blurred and faded into nothingness as the eight-year-old fell into his cunning mind, his eyes yet again landed on Y/n with his usual piercing gaze. Only difference was that this time, there was a twinge of excitement and malice, lots of malice.
God how he wanted to make them pay. A total troglodyte they were, so ignorant and easily distracted by such trivial things.
You see, Feitan never got back that favor, and he certainly wasn't one to hold back when it came to exploiting others. Especially younger, naïve children who hadn't seen nor understood just how horrific the world could be. How horrific he could make their world be.
Go ahead, call him a monster. It's such a common title for him, he might've even believed it were his own name if it hadn't been for the thread engraved onto his shirt.
Feeling eyes watching them, Y/n turned to face the newer strange boy with their head tilted in confusion. The blackette walked over to the younger child, the two of them standing at the same height. "Hello." Feitan spoke up with a small smile and a friendly wave. It certainly looked realistic and Y/n couldn't feel any malicious intent within the other boy, though if only they knew how fake that smile was. "Hey there! I'm Y/n, what's your name?" The child spoke with a close-eyed smile as they waved in return.
'Oh this was going to be fun.' The boy thought with an inward chuckle of sadism.
Feitan Portor wasn't one to forgive and forget. Hell, he came from Meteor City, the place where every good action was never from the heart but instead the manipulative portion of people's minds. No matter who or what he had to go through,
He was getting back what he owed, and he was expecting it NOW.
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amintyworld · 4 years ago
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Mentors - Dream SMP Hunger Games AU
A/N: So this started as a one page drabble, then it turned into a six page fic. Oopsies! Anyway this is meant to be a sort of prequel to ‘The Victor’ drabble I submitted over at @dreamsmp-au-ideas, but can be read as stand-alone. Anyway, I wrote this in the span of an entire DAY because I have no self-control when it comes to writing and this AU has sparked some Middle School nostalgia in me. Anyway, hope you enjoy and please check out the blog where the AU idea came from, they’ve given me a LOT of inspiration for fics to write. -Minty
TW: Talk/mention of death, fighting, depression/loss, threats of death, slight insanity. (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!)
Summary: Tommy’s an angry orphan, Wilbur grows a soft spot for Tommy, Sam is the only braincell left in District 7, Tubbo has Dadschlatt and needs a lot of hugs, Phil earned the achievement ‘Oh no Feelings’. 
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Tubbo intertwined his fingers as he walked with the guards toward the white porcelain-like door. The shock of his name getting pulled hadn’t exactly faded yet, and the dread of the logical conclusion he’d drawn up in his head did not exactly help matters. He knew he was dead - he’d never trained for combat, he wasn’t agile or fast, he knew next to nothing about surviving in the wilderness, or even whatever the Gamemaker threw at him for that matter. His fate was completely sealed the moment that boy with devil horns picked his name out of the bowl. 
He took a breath, his hand on the door handle. Time to say goodbye.
As soon as he shut the door, he could feel his father’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo.” His voice was gentle, warm, and kind. Tubbo’s emotions couldn’t help but become unplugged at the voice as tears ran down his cheeks and he clung to his father tightly, afraid to let go. Schlatt wrapped his arms around Tubbo gently, rubbing his back to give him some comfort. “Oh Tubbo, I know kiddo, shhh...”
“I’m so scared, Dad.” Tubbo’s voice wavered as his body shook with sobs, and Schlatt’s heart broke at his son’s voice. 
“I know buddy, I know.” Schatt moved so he could brush his hands through his son’s hair. “But… but you don’t have to be. I know you can do it, I know you can win.” A few tears slipped down Schlatt’s cheek. “You’re so much smarter than any of those meatheads in the Capitol, probably in any other District in Panem. You’re so much stronger than you know, kiddo. I know you can do it. Just survive, I know you can outthink any of them, I know you can win. Just survive, win, and I’ll be waiting right here when you come back, okay?”
“And… and we can finally make s’mores?”
Schlatt’s face broke out into a smile through tears. “Yes, yes we can make as many s’mores as you want! We… we’ll… I’ll show you the bee farms, and I promise I’ll be there every single night for dinner, no more late hours at the office. I swear.” Schlatt’s hands squeezed Tubbo’s shoulders. “But you gotta win and come home, okay?”
Tubbo’s eyes blurred with tears as he scanned his father’s face, words dying in his throat, not knowing what to say. “Dad, I-”
Schlatt pulled him down into another hug as the two wept, holding onto each other for dear life, not daring to let go. Then, a soldier appeared in the doorway. “He’s got a train to catch, Mr. Ram.”
Schlatt breathed deeply, pulling away from the hug to run his hand through his son’s hair one last time, taking in his face as he brushed a bit of hair out of his face. “I…” He bit his lip. “I love you, Tubbo. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“I love you too, Dad.” Tubbo gave a quick hug to his father, wrapping his arms around his neck.
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When Wilbur was assigned as a mentor for District 7, he was more than a little nervous. The other Victors from Victor’s Row assured him he’d do just fine, but still, he was not exactly looking forward to it. He’d met the escort and advisor a few days ago, someone from the Capitol named Sam. For someone from one of the richest districts in Panem, Sam didn’t exactly dress in high fashion - no bright colors or extravagant hairstyles. Instead, he simply wore a clean formal vest and slacks. He gave Wilbur the firmest handshake he’d ever been given in his entire life, and despite the situation seemed almost cheerful. 
If he remembered correctly, he was supposed to settle in his personal car on the train and meet Sam in the dining car. Sam seemed to have every detail of their trip planned out perfectly, which Wilbur more than appreciated. He was already dealing with enough as it was having to mentor two kids and try to get them sponsors while basically reliving the worst time in his entire life. Ths screams, the blood… the memories were… they were not good.
They called him insane, unstable. The One Who Went Mad. When he used to panic and whimper and mutter to himself, they used to laugh at him. They thought what he’d been through, the things that he’s seen, and the nightmares that plagued him were nothing more than a funny joke. They loved his pain and suffering. Wilbur didn’t like when they laughed at him like some stupid monkey in a cage. That’s why he preferred to just stay home most of the time. But at this point mentorship was unavoidable, it was under Capitol orders.
It was a bit early before he was due to meet up with Sam in the dining car, and he craved a cup of black coffee. His mind whirred a bit from the familiar fancy train cars, and he needed something to clear his mind from remembering. When he opened the door, however, he didn’t expect to see one of the tributes already here this early. From his blond messy hair and his bright blue eyes, he assumed this was Tommy, the boy. Wilbur held up his hand to show he meant to harm before he moved past the teen sat near the window towards the tea cart, fiddling with the french press. Successfully pouring the pitch-black liquid in a very expensive looking teacup, he cradled it in his hands as he moved to sit across from the teenage boy, still focused on the train station outside the window. “Uh, interesting view?”
Tommy looked over at him for a moment, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Something like that.”
Wilbur sipped the bitter coffee thoughtfully. He took a breath before speaking. “You know, you’re allowed to say goodbye to your friends and family in the Governor’s office, if one of the Peacekeepers made a mistake I’m sure there’s still time for you to…”
“No.” The teenager’s voice seemed firm, staring out of the window. “They didn’t make a mistake.” 
“Uh, well…” Wilbur felt the awkward tension in the room rise. “You are a… bit early, we don’t leave for another half-hour…”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. No one to say goodbye to, so I guess they just skipped that part for convenience.” He looked almost angry as he turned back to Wilbur. “Do you mind maybe not staring at me?”
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” Tommy snapped. “You shouldn’t just start up a conversation just because you feel bored. I’m not paid to be your fucking entertainment.”
Add this to the number of reasons Wilbur didn’t want to be a mentor - teenagers. This kid certainly had a mouth on him. 
Wilbur’s eyes narrowed in anger as he gripped his teacup, trying his best to stay calm. “Well, whether you like it or not, you’re all of Panem’s entertainment now.” Wilbur quipped as he moved to walk away. “So maybe you should learn to be a bit more likable.”
As he began to walk across the car to move toward a table in the corner of the room, he felt a heavy weight on his back as he lost his grip on his cup as it landed on the metal ground of the car with a loud crash, the coffee staining the expensive carpets. He felt punches on his back and head as someone tried to pin him down. Wilbur sighed in frustration. With ease, he jabbed Tommy’s side, putting him off balance, and flipped the kid over, grabbing his arm and pulling it behind his back. Tommy struggled against Wilbur’s grip, angry. He could see tears in the teenager’s eyes as he practically growled at Wilbur. “Take it back you bitch! Get off of me and fight! Take it back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Tommy’s anger slowly disappeared as he began to cry, his body shaking as he sucked in breaths, slowly realizing what exactly he said. “I’ll… I’ll…” Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but ache at the sight of the poor kid, bringing back memories of that time, that feeling of being trapped.
The door at the other end of the train car flew open, to reveal Sam and the girl tribute from the Reaping, Sarah. “Wilbur, what are you doing?” Sam questioned as Wilbur quickly got off of Tommy, holding out his hand for the teenager to take. 
“Uh, right.” As Tommy’s eyes met Wilbur’s the mentor noticed how they scanned across his face, confused at Wilbur’s sudden change from annoyance to kindness. Wilbur smiled slightly. “Let’s save the real fighting for the arena, yeah?” Tommy hesitated before taking Wilbur’s hand as he helped him up, getting even more confused as he quickly wiped off his tear-stained cheeks.
“Sarah Teller and Tommy Innit, meet your Mentor, Wilbur Soot.”
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Tubbo formally met his other tribute mate, a girl he knew from those fancy business dinners Schlatt would host - he never really talked with her much then, but it was nice to see a familiar face, that was for sure. Her name was Crystal.
They arrived and settled in without much really going on. Their advisor, the one with the devil horns a few hours earlier was their advisor, Bad. They were very confused at first why anyone would name their child that, until Bad insisted it was a nickname for ‘Badboy’… Tubbo couldn’t say he didn’t believe the advisor with some of the fancy and absurd names that seemed so popular in the richer districts. “Now, the best part is that even though you are both chosen as tributes, you’ll be able to see all the Capitol can offer before you’re in the arena. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”
“I guess it’ll be kind of cool to see the Capitol.” Crystal agreed as she took a sip of a fruitful smelling juice of some kind. Her eyes furrowed as if she was focusing intently on the next words out of her mouth. “I mean, this year economy-wise wasn’t particularly the best for them, seeing as their main exports have been plagued with attacks. It’ll be interesting to see how they fair under unseemly conditions.”
“E...Economy?” Tubbo asked in a silent question to his fellow tribute, whose face flushed in embarrassment. 
“My father is the head of exports for District 3. Knowing about stocks and stuff is kind of his thing… then, I guess, it became my thing.” Crystal shrugged, and Tubbo thoughtfully bit into a buttered crust of bread. “I don’t really think that’ll be too helpful in the Games, though.”
“Speaking of the Games, where’s that old man… I told him to meet us here almost an hour ago.” Bad thoughtfully added with a sigh. “He’s going to miss dinner completely if he doesn’t hurry up.”
Almost as if on cue, the car door slid open, and in walked a tall broad blonde-haired man who looked completely mentally checked out. He yawned as he reached over the table to grab an apple and one of Bad’s homemade muffins from the basket. He looked over to the two kids and gave them a slight smile and a two-fingered salute as if to say ‘hi’. “Crystal, Tubbo, this is Phil Craft, your Mentor,” Bad said, quickly gesturing to the man, anger bubbling to the surface. “Phil, where have you been?” Bad demanded, leaning over to snatch the muffin out of Phil’s hand. “No muffins until you eat actual food! We’re in District Two tomorrow and they expect us up and ready by 9 am sharp-!”
“Alright, alright! Stop freaking out, okay?” Phil pinched his nose in annoyance, turning his gaze to look over at the two teenagers again. Phil met Tubbo’s eyes and smirked. “Also, you said I needed real food?” Phil threw the apple up into the air as it caught wind on his arm, traveling over his shoulder blades and taking off of his opposite hand, landing in his mouth as he sunk his teeth into the apple flesh. “That count?” He asked between chewing as Tubbo and Crystal couldn’t help but smile and laugh, clapping to applaud Phil’s trick.
“You bail on us for a whole hour, show up to eat a single apple, and then got back to your little hermit hut?!” Bad’s voice raised slightly. “What do you even do in there that’s more important than this, huh??”
Phil’s playful smile dropped for a moment, replaced with something more melancholy as Bad clearly struck a nerve. There was a tense moment of silence before Phil resumed his happy persona. “Well, I didn’t mean to be a bother and disrupt your dinner. Now that I have my apple and my muffin, I’ll take my leave.” He looked over to the two tributes. “I’ll see both of you in the morning.” Phil smiled before quickly exiting the room once more, leaving a slightly irritated Bad, and two very off-put tributes.
Tubbo couldn’t sleep. The day’s events weighed too heavy on his mind - the Reaping, saying goodbye to his father, dealing with the thoughts of his own inevitable fate. He missed Schlatt’s warm embrace, he missed how his father ruffled up his hair just in the right way to say ‘I’m proud of you, kid.’ He missed home and its faint smell of motor oil and coal from the factories that always seemed to seep in through the windows and cracks in the walls just right. He didn’t feel safe here, he was in one of the fanciest bedrooms on a train that he knew he’d never be able to get a ticket for years, and yet nothing about this place felt safe.
He was being chased by something, something with claws and teeth that whispered nothing but death. But Tubbo didn’t want to die. Even if he knew it was his fate, Tubbo did not want to die. So he ran, his legs quickly getting sore and tired from overuse, yet he pushed on. He heard whispers in his ears, taunting him, laughing at his pathetic escape. Tears ran down Tubbo’s eyes as he pressed his hands over his ears and continued to run, something pinned him to the ground, claws sinking into his back as he whimpered in pain. A chill ran down his spine as the monster growled close to Tubbo’s ear. His heartbeat quicker as he begged, no pleaded to whatever was out there, please please I just want to live-!
He awoke with a start, looking around, tears streaming down his face as his body shook with an adrenaline rush. His hands found their way over his heart, making sure he was still alive as arms wrapped around him, shushing him and holding him close. “Woah there, Woah there… it’s okay, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real, shhh…” The panic in Tubbo’s chest slowly quieted as he wrapped his arms around the person, needing comfort desperately. The figure seemed startled for a moment before brushing back some of Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes. Tubbo looked at the figure for a moment, confused.
“Phil?”
“Hey mate.” Phil smiled warmly. “That was quite the nightmare, yeah? You were flopping around like a fish out of water.”
“But…” Tubbo sniffed, pulling away to wipe away his tears. “But why? How?”
“You sounded like you were in physical pain, I was worried. Can’t have a tribute dead before they even get to the arena, you know. Would really throw off the whole schedule.” Phil half-joked as he looked down at the mattress, not being able to meet Tubbo’s eyes at that moment. Tubbo’s gaze was focused on his mentor.
“Why’d you help me, we just met today for like two seconds at most-”
“It doesn’t really matter that much, I was just passing by-!” Phil dismissed quickly before Tubbo’s tone got more serious.
“Phil, if you’re going to be my Mentor you’ve gotta at least tell me the truth. I need you to tell me the absolute truth when it comes to this because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, what I’m up against, how I’m even supposed to survive, but you do. I need you if I ever stand even a chance of getting home. Please.” Phil let out a frustrated sigh.
“You reminded me of my son, that’s all. When he used to be a tribute.” Phil said, looking toward the ground. “He’d have nightmares, he was so scared but I told him I’d never leave his side, so when he got picked I went with him as his Mentor.” Phil sucked on his cheek. “I thought that if I went with him, talked him through it, got every single sponsor I could, he’d…” Phil sighed. “I just didn’t want for you to have to deal with the nightmare alone, no one should have to handle everything alone.” Moving off his bed, he looked over. “I’ll be across the hall, okay?”
“Oh...Okay.” Tubbo said, nodding. “Thanks.”
Phil nodded back as he turned and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand move toward his chest quickly, was he putting his hand over his heart or something…? As Phil moved toward the door, one question stood on Tubbo’s mind, he bit his lip for a moment, considering. 
“Phil, wait-!” Phil turned around, and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand wrap around a necklace of some kind he didn’t notice before, in the shape of a heart. “Did… did he survive? Your son?”
A tense silence followed.
“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Phil said. “No more questions, you need to get some sleep.”
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whumpfigure · 4 years ago
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Whumptober Day 5: Rescue(pt.1)
Big shoutout to @albino-whumpee because this scene is largely inspired by their Painting piece.
CW: pet whump, dehumanization, BBU stuff, conditioned whumpee, delirious whumpee, impaled hands, blood loss, broken bones.
Javier rushes inside the house, and immediately starts looking for Bastet. If what Louis told him on the phone is correct - which seems to be the case, since Russels' car is not parked anywhere in sight - Russels has left for the airport hours ago. Meaning that Bastet's been left alone all the time. And Javi knows Bastet doesn't like to be alone.
"Bastet?" Javi says as he searches Bastet's favourite hiding spots in the living room. And then in the kitchen. But he finds nothing. So he goes upstairs.
"Bast? Where are you?" Javi says, and fear starts building in his chest. Where is he?
"Bast, please answer me!" He raises his voice as he opens the first door on the hallway, and he knows it will make Bast scared but he just...- he needs to find him.
Room after room, Javi searches. And all the while call out Bastet's voice. But there's no answers. No amswers, and it makes Javi's heart beat fast, and he feels his stomach start to flip in fear and he-
A soft whimper - barely audible from the other side of the wall - comes from the spare room on the far corner of the hallway, and Javi all but runs towards there.
"Bastet, are you there?!" He asks as he takes hold of the door handle and pushes down. But it doesn't budge. The door is locked.
"Fuck..." Javi mutters and runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Bast, you're in there, right?" Javi asks again, and hears something between a sob and a whimper come from inside the room.
"Ok. Ok. I want you to get away from the door, alright? I'm gonna break in." Javi instructs, and at that moment doesn't think about the money it'll cost him to repair that door at all.
"On count of three." Javi announces and gets a few steps back, ready to launch.
"One. Two. Three!" Javi runs on three and slams his whole body to the door. The ancient wood gives way, and the door bursts open.
It takes Javier a second to get himself together after throwing himself in the room like that. But when he does, the scene in front of him makes his stomach lurch.
Bastet is there, standing in front of the old closet in the far left corner of the room. His arms are positioned above his head on the closet's door, and there are ugly swollen bruises on his forearms. Blood trails decorate his arms all the way down to his shoulders, staining the white tshirt he's wearing. Javi follows the blood trail up to where it seems to come from Bastet's hands...-
Javi's knees nearly buckles when he notices Bastet's hands. A knife, with delicate patterns carved on the hilt, is buried deep right in the middle of Bastet's hands. Piercing through them, and through the wood of the closet, and pinning his hands to the door. A bit more above the knife, Bastet's fingers - every single one of them - are bent in ways that are unnatural. They are all broken.
Bastet lets out another sound, and Javi just realizes that he's barely conscious. His head is hanging low, and his muscles shake with the effort to hold him upright. To lessen the pressure on his pierced hands.
Bastet's knees seem to buckle for a second, and that makes Javier rush towards him, to stop him from putting his weight on the knife, and slicing his hands in half.
Bastet's body tenses right as Javier's hands touch him.
"Hey. Hey Bast. Shh, it's ok. It's ok." Javier whispers in Bastet's ear, and Bastet tries to put his head in Javi's shoulders. But another pained sound escapes his throat, and his body shakes with another spasm.
Javier looks up at the knife in Bastet's hands - up close, it seems to look even more scary - and brings his own hand up to pull it out. He knows it's better to leave the knife in the wound before getting medical help. He knows that it'll stop the blood flow. But he can't just let the knife be there! He has to get Bastet to down, and he needs to do it now. But to do that, he has to take that knife out, first.
He closes his fingers around the hilt, and pulls on it, hard. The blade comes out of the wood, and after that out of Bastet's hands, and Bastet yelps. His hands fall limp at his sides.
"Shhh, Bast. Shhh. It's ok. It's over now." Javi whispers, and lowers both of their bodies to sit on the floor.
"It's alright. I've got you now. I've got you." Javi whispers as he scoops Bastet up. Tucking him in his arms and standing up, carrying him bridal style.
He moves slowly. Carefully. Even as he knows he should hurry. Hurry to get Bastet somewhere safe. Somewhere they can treat his wounds. But he can't risk moving fast and causing Bastet more pain than he should already be in. So, he slowly climbs down the stairs, and places Bastet gently on one of the couches.
He then, runs up the stairs again, grabs some blankets from his room, and some bandages from the first aid kit he hid inside his drawer, and runs back down.
His hands shake as he tries to wrap the bandages around Bastet's hands. Not that they'll make the bleeding stop. But they at least help it to not become infected.
After clumsily finishing the bandages on the hands of a now deliriously whimpering Bastet, he rushes towards his car, turns it on, and opens the backseat door. He then runs back inside, and wraps Bastet up in blankets - to keep him from the chill October weather of the north - and scoops him up again.
After gently lowering Bastet on the backseat, and closing the frontdoor of that bastard's house, he gets on the car himself, and immediately slams on the gas.
Tagging: @slaintetowhump @ashintheairlikesnow @liliability @ohmywhump @whumptywhumpdump @raigash @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @simplygrimly @whump-it @misspelledwitch @inky-whump @whumppsychology @inaridriscoll @rivertamandspike @spookyboywhump @faewhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpzone @sola-whumping @whumpsy-daisies @crystalrainwing @a-whump-muffin @whumptober2020
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ladynightmare913 · 4 years ago
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Red Rose, Blood Moon
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Welcome to Chapter 8! This is an Original Story inspired by the tale of Red Riding Hood. I would like to say a special thank to my best friend and co-author Olivia ( @asunshinepuff​ ) for joining me on writing this world onto paper. 
CW: There are mentions of bodies. You have been warned!
This story contains only original characters created by Olivia and myself. For those of you who want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask to me or Olivia on her blog. If you have any questions, theories, or curiosities about any of our characters or how the story will progress, send them to the ask box! I know this chapter is shorter than usual but I promise to make up for it in the next chapter! 
Now without Further Adieu!
Chapter 8: A String of Corpses
Rosabella was welcomed into the Azure’s home to get cleaned up and eat a warm meal. Erinna pried Rosabella’s clothes to be washed. She spent the next few hours explaining to Cassandra and Felis what had happened after the wolf had dragged her away. Cassandra’s temper flared whenever Red or Bardolph were mentioned. 
“I want to return to Norwich.” Rosabella admitted.
“What?” Cassandra frowned. “Are you certain?”
Rosabella’s sapphire blue eyes sparkled in conviction. “More than ever.” 
Cassandra watched her friend’s eyes sparkle and with a sigh, she nodded in agreement. “Alright. Guess we’re off.”
They rode out in the dark of night. Gathering the supplies they would need ,Rosabella, Cassandra, and Felis said their quick goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Azure. Royce was not pleased, Erinna made them promise to write to her for anything, anything at all. 
They rode for an entire day, the horses now used to their long journeys and needing little rest. On the second day, they arrive near nightfall at the village where Rosabella and Bardolph parted ways. The village of Edinburgh. The horse slowed to a stop at the gate. 
Rosabella’s horse, Gypsy, grew uneasy. She stroked Gypsy’s neck “Shhh, easy girl.”  Looking up, Rosabella scanned the village, it was silent. “It’s quiet.”
Cassandra’s horse, Eumelia, walked beside Rosabella’s. Her sky blue eyes watching the town carefully, she was tense. “To quiet… ” 
“I believe we ought to put on our masks.” Rosabella whispered.  
The blonde nodded in agreement, “I believe that’s a wise idea.” She whispered.
Reaching into their cloaks, each woman pulled out a mask. Cassandra’s mask was lavender with a pale purple ombre in the center, with intricate detailing in lavender, a dark purple satin ribbon as straps to tie the mask. The light colors compared to the bright blue of her eyes was a strong contrast. 
While, Rosabella’s mask was black with thin red embroidery that swirled all around the mask, a rose on the left eye, a black satin ribbon as straps to tie the mask. Red marking around the eyes of the mask made Rosabella’s iris striking.
“Oh I missed those pairs of mystery eyes.” Felis commented fondly. He was the only one who didn’t wear a mask.
Dismounting from their horses, they walk into the village. Relieved to note that the village had not suddenly been abandoned in a matter of a few days, rather gathering in the center, wearing dark mourning clothes. Given the dark cloaks of Felis and Cassandra, Rosabella’s red cloak stood out, the group of villagers all turned their heads to the trio. 
The group of three stopped in their tracks. There at the center was a body laying on the ground. Rosabella made inaudible gasp, quickly walking towards the body. It was the woman from before. The woman who Bardolph had relations with. Her eyes were dull, lifeless and maggots clung to gaping wounds. Rose crouched down, the woman smelled dead for longer than a day. Tilting her head, Rose saw clawed marks on her neck. Rosabella looked to the village chief.
“How long had she been dead?” 
“We found her this afternoon,” the leader spoke, his eyes couldn't look away from the corpse, “the villagers had smelled a horrible stench coming from the barn. She’s been dead for four days.”  
Rosabella gasped. Four days, that was the last day she and Bardolph had been here. She quickly stood, stepping away from the corpse. Cassandra placed a comforting hand to her shoulder, grounding her to reality. “What is it?” 
“Bardolph… was the last to be with her.” A chill ran through Rosabella’s spine.  
Cassandra frowned, looking to Felis, a silent request to inspect the body himself as she looked after Rosabella. Pulling her away from the gathered villagers. Walking back to the horses, Cassandra turned to look at Rose. 
“Do you believe he did this?” 
“I don’t know, the musky scent still lingers on her corpse, but he didn’t smell of wolf…” Rosabella swallowed. Something was wrong. Very wrong. The memory of Bardolph’s gleam through the window shook Rosabella to her core. She now knows what she felt that night. She felt like she was being hunted. And he was the hunter. 
“We have to search for him.” Rosabella eyes shifted from terror to determination. “I won’t allow him to take another life.”   
“He’s certainly suspicious.” Cassandra acknowledges, “If he’s the reason for her death then who knows how many lives might be lost already.”
Felis approached them, shaking his head. “She bore the mark of a beast on her neck. Whatever killed her, wasn’t human.” 
Rosabella frowned. If it wasn’t Bardolph, then the only explanation could be that there was another wolf. Her eyes widened. The brown wolf from the forest! It must’ve followed her in it’s human form! She paled, Cassandra had to keep her steady. She did this. The wolf followed her, how many deaths had she been responsible for? How had she not noticed? She raised a hand to her forehead. This was all her fault. 
“Rose, what is it?” Cassandra looked at her friend with worry and concern clear in her eyes, if the light tightening on her arm was any indication.
“We have to go back, to all the villages, I know who killed her. And I can only pray they didn’t anyone else.” 
They rode out for the next four days, resting at each village, searching for any signs of death. Only one other village in Arcine, had a death. Another woman, and the scent of Bardolph was all over her, but she had the marks of something inhuman. Rosabella couldn’t stand the sight of her. 
On the fifth day, the trio made it to Norwich. Quickly settling in at the furthest inn near the hot springs. Rosabella gave Bardolph’s description to Cassandra and Felis. 
“Searched everywhere. The stable, the taverns, the markets.” 
“Brothels?” Felis asked, Cassandra elbowed him in the ribs. “I was being serious Cassandra.” 
Cassandra gave him a look before shaking her head, “Why would he go to a brothel though? Wouldn’t it be a risk?” 
The group go their separate ways. Cassandra headed for the library first. Who knows if the supposed traveler or murderer enjoyed books? Walking into the building, men quickly stared at her, frowning even. She rolled her eyes as she scoffed. Proudly entering the building, searching the corridors and aisles. She was about to crash into someone before a pair of hands gripped her shoulders and directed her to the side. The man was ridiculously tall, with shoulder length blond hair, and blue eyes. He was dressed in red. 
“Thank you, I hardly saw you.” Cassandra admits honestly.
“It’s no trouble.” The man gave a simple response. Not bothering to look down at her, simply carrying on with searching for whatever it was he was searching for. Cassandra was mildly stunned, he didn’t even seem the least bit perturbed with her in the library in the first place. He eyed her, noticing that she was still there. 
“Is there something that you need?” He asked bluntly?
“No, nothing. Have a good day sir.” 
The man didn’t answer her, if anything he only looked mildly peeved that she was still here. Cassandra decided she didn’t like him. 
Across town, Felis had decided to search the taverns, which ended with Felis somehow in a drinking match. He only smirked, he’s had decades to perfect his technique. He stayed in one single tavern for the majority of the day. Cassandra would have his head if she knew. “Well gents, I’m afraid I’ve won this round, and the last sixteen. Now I must get going, if I don’t, I will be a dead man by morning.” He grinned as he rose to his feet, his chair bumping into someone. 
“My apologies,” Felis quickly offered, “I didn’t see you.”  
 “I know.” The man’s brow only twitched in annoyance.
Felis chuckled lightly, the man was dressed in a rich wine red cloak with black fur, his hair reached his shoulders and had blue eyes. The man simply walked away from Felis. The pirate starred after the man, who was nearly the same height as himself. 
“What a strange fellow.” 
Rosabella had taken to the streets. Asking the townspeople if they had seen a man with Bardolph’s description. She walked for hours, no one had ever seen or heard of a man called Bardolph Sinclair before. With dusk approaching, she decided to make the trek back to the inn to meet with the others. 
Now what? She searched nearly the entire town of Norwich and not a single person knew who he was. Rosabella didn’t know either, only that he had a string of bodies that followed him wherever he went. She frowned as she walked silently, snow began to fall. A sigh escaped her, she could her breath in the cold winter air. Lifting her head, her eyes landed upon the person she had intentionally set out to look for, to ask about her necklace. Her lips parted as she blinked in surprise. 
Red stood there, just a few feet away from her. Staring right at her. He looked annoyed. 
“You have the most annoying friends.” He said bluntly. “They have the unfortunate habit of bumping into people.” 
Rosabella suddenly remembered her first impression of the man. She scoffed. “Is that any way to say hello to a friend?” She raised an expectant brow. “What happened to decorum?” 
“We are not friends. Merely acquaintances.” He retorted. “We met in the woods, nothing more.” 
“You were the only one who had forgone decorum and called me childish.” She snapped. 
 “At least they do not share your habit of shooting people.” He smirked lightly. It was just too easy. 
Rosabella groaned. “I already apologized! You cannot hold that over me forever.” She crossed her arms, her brows raised in defiance. Red only looked amused.  
“You’d be surprised. Still hurts.” 
Rosabella frowned at that. Quickly walking over to him, gripping the arm she had unintentionally injured, pulling the sleeve back. There was no wound. She glared up at him. “Liar.” 
Red pulled his arm free, shaking his head reproachfully. “Simply because you cannot see it, does not mean it has stopped healing.” 
Rosabella sighed. “What are you doing here? I’d thought you have left by now. Given that you travel.” 
“I usually stay for a month.” Red looked across the street. “And you, I didn’t expect you back in Norwich.”  
“I am searching for someone.” She omitted. 
“Another one of your friends?” He asked indifferently. 
Rosabella shook her head. “No, I am searching for a man. I believe him to be responsible for the murders of several women. And I suspect there to be more.” 
Red’s eyes snapped towards her. He looked… alarmed. “I apologize.” He said quietly, “I hope you find him.”  
Rosabella nodded her head, “Thank you, perhaps you have heard of him.” 
Red scoffed, “I doubt I would know any murderers in this century who are still alive.” 
Rosabella ignored him, “He is a tall man, not as tall as you. He has brown curled hair, and hazel eyes that seem to have gold flecks in them when the sun reflects off them.” She paused, “His name is Bardolph Sinclair.” 
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her heart raced, the air around them seemed to thicken with the sheer rage and power radiating off  the man before. His icy blue eyes had darkened immensely, he was glaring right into her sapphire eyes. But for some strange reason, she didn’t feel afraid. Only, curious. 
“He’s alive?” He seethed out from a snarl. 
Rosabella rose a brow. “I would assume so, I met him nearly a week ago.” 
Red seemed to have stopped breathing, but Rosabella could hear his heartbeat, and the shallow breathes he released. 
“Bardolph, are you certain that is his name?” 
“Bardolph Sinclair?” 
“I don’t care for his last name, he always changed it. But Bardolph is always the same.” Red stated quickly. Rosabella frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Red grunted in annoyance, turning away from her, running a hand through his hair. “Nearly 300 years later, you show up in Paris?” He laughed dryly. 
Rosabella followed after him as he walked. “What do you mean 300 hundred years? He’s human!” 
Red gave a sarcastic laugh. “Oh I assure you, he most certainly is not.” 
Rosabella grabbed his arm, stopping him. She glared. “How could you know that?” 
Red didn’t hesitate. “Because I am the reason that he became a monster like me. Cursed to live forever only to shift every full moon into a beast.” 
Rosabella felt her blood freeze. Red was… a werewolf? But how? And if he was 1000 years old, how is he still alive? She should’ve been afraid, the older the werewolf the more powerful they are. But she wasn’t afraid, she wondered if she would ever feel afraid of the man before her. She had been afraid of mere humans, but the man before her was a wolf, and she felt no fear. She only gripped his arm tighter. “Tell me everything. Now.”  
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heartsywritesthethings · 4 years ago
Text
Tell Mammon you want to sit with Asmodeus
Movie Night leading up to this decision 
“I think she can decide what she wants, right?” Asmodeus says, snuggling closer to you. Mammon growls and moves closer to both of you and you hold out your hand.
“Mammon, Asmodeus was here first. If you got here sooner, then you would have been able to sit here. Fair is fair.” You say with a small shrug. Mammon looks as if you just punched him in the gut and you feel bad for him, but you know Asmodeus will absolutely pitch a fit if you say no to him now that he’s all comfortable against you.
“Besides, why would she want to sit next to you when she has the option of sitting next to someone as beautiful as me?” Asmodeus continues and you nudge him slightly. Mammon just growls again and sits on the loveseat near the couch, staring at you both.
“You better not be up to any funny business, Asmodeus.” Mammon says, jabbing two fingers at him as if to say ‘I’m watching you’. 
“Oh, nothing funny at all. Isn’t that right?” Asmodeus says, placing his hand on your thigh. Your cheeks flush and you open your mouth to protest when he squeezes a little. Instead, you close your mouth tight before a ticklish squeak leaves your mouth. Asmodeus looks up at you, his eyebrows jumping up. Mammon didn’t notice.
“I don’t want to see either of you messing around. It’s gross.” Mammon says.
“What’s gross is having to be in the same room as you.” Satan says as he enters the room, dragging Leviathan by his ear. 
“Ow. Ow. Ow. Let me go! I don’t wanna be here!” Levi whines. Finally, Satan lets go of his brother’s ear and picks up the remote. He looks at his options before moving to the loveseat.
“Be nice.” You remind Satan. He just groans and plops down next to Mammon. Mammon just shifts away from him slightly and curls up against the arm of the chair.
“Satan, make sure you tell me if Mammon starts to cry. I’m going to be live-blogging this whole experience and I want to know when exactly Mammon breaks.“  Leviathan says, taking out his phone and sitting down in front of the screen. Beelzebub is the last to arrive with six bowls all precariously balanced on his arms. 
“Thanks, Beelz!” Mammon says, holding his hand out for a bowl. You just shake your head, knowing that all of those bowls are for Beelzebub. Sure enough, Beelz just ignores Mammon, sitting next to Levi and spreading his popcorn bowls in a semi circle in front of him. Mammon pouts and leans back against the loveseat in a huff.
“Since everyone is here, I will go ahead and start the movie. Tonight, we will be watching The Devil and Me, a romantic horror movie made by our fellow students here at Devildom.” Lucifer says, pulling up a chair for himself after turning off the lights to the room.
“A romantic horror? What does that even mean?” Mammon says, looking thoroughly confused. You were just about to ask the same thing.
“I had a few students who were so incredibly inspired by my beauty,” Asmodeus says, “that they had to create something equally spectacular. We are going to be the first demons to witness their masterpiece before it hits theaters!”
Of course, now the title makes a lot more sense. 
The movie begins and you settle in against Asmodeus. He leans in close.
“Are you ticklish, human?” Asmodeus whispers in your ear. Just the warm breath tickles your ear and you feel your cheeks turn a little pink.
“Shhh.” You shush him, unable to deny his question. He chuckles against the skin of your neck and you fight the ticklish urge to squirm away. 
“How about a little game, human?” He asks, his hand creeping under your shirt. “You versus me. Everytime the character has to fight demons, I get to tickle you. Every time there’s sexual tension, you get to tickle me. If you make a sound and bother the others, I win and I get to do whatever I want with you after this.”
“And if I win?” You ask under your breath. 
“Then you get to do whatever you want with me…” Asmodeus says, gently biting your earlobe.
You have a choice 
<< Accept the Deal >>
…Okay so you don’t really have a choice.
“You’re on,” You say and shift slightly so that you can wrap your arm around his waist. 
And you’re off to a bad start. It just now hit you that he must have seen the movie before everyone else if he knew what exactly to base these stupid rules on. The movie starts up with the main character fighting some demons and Asmodeus’ wiggly fingers are already attacking you. He wants to win apparently.
His fingers dig into your sides and you clamp your lips shut almost immediately. How is he so good at tickling? You fight the urge to wiggle or squirm away as his fingers glide up to your ribs and then back down to your sides and up again. It’s like he’s playing you like an instrument.
An instrument that won’t play. The character in the movie locks eyes with a demon and you immediately begin your retaliation. Your hands jump to his sides, but he doesn’t look like he’s being affected at all. Your heart drops into your stomach. That bastard. Did he create this whole deal when he wasn’t even ticklish?!
Asmodeus gently cups your face in his hands and brings his lips close to yours.
“That tickles a bit…maybe try some different spots,” He says, his breath hot on your lips. Your fingers have paused in their assault, too mesmerized by the Avatar of Lust and his closeness to you. 
“Hey! Back off!” Mammon’s voice exclaims from the dark and Asmodeus chuckles. Slowly, Asmodeus pulls his face away from you. You turn your attention back to the movie though your mind is reeling. 
What could he mean by that? Were there spots on him that were in fact ticklish? 
Oh. Ooooh. 
You’re ready for the next time there is sexual tension on screen, preparing a game plan in your head. 
Before you can act on your plan, another fight breaks out between the main character and demons. Asmodeus gently pulls you into his lap this time, and you glance over at Mammon. He’s not paying attention anymore, his eyes glued to the screen.
Asmodeus begins lightly nibbling on the back of your neck while his fingers dance on your sides and ribs again. You take your hands and clamp them over your mouth, wiggling a little more against his lips. It’s the small kisses and nibbles on your neck that are really pushing you this time. 
“Careful, human” Asmodeus whispers in your ear, “Or they may hear you”
You bite back another giggle as the breath against your ears tickles even more. His fingers move up to under your arms and your eyes squeeze shut as you know you’re about to lose. You squirm even more on top of his lap. This is torture. Pure demonic torture.
But you have to win. Your eyes snap open to pay attention to the screen. More sexual tension, of course. The battle had ended already and Asmodeus is just tickling you because he can.
Alright, your turn. You push yourself off of his lap and lightly hit his shoulder.
“Cheater.” You hiss at him.
“I was just having fun, human. Weren’t you?” He teases. You immediately go into your attack mode which is pretty simple. 
You place your hand on his thigh and before he can make a joke about it, you begin squeezing. 
His casual and fashionable pants did very little to defend against your hands. Asmodeus lets out a small sound before he throws his head back against the couch. He managed to stifle his laugh, but he’s really struggling now. His face is scrunched up in pure concentration. He’s pretty stubborn too, but you have a pretty good idea how you’re going to break him. 
Your hands move up to his hips, still squeezing away. Asmodeus bucks and pushes himself away from you in pure instinct. Your smile right now could rival the devil himself. 
“Don’t get on my bad side, human. There’s another battle coming up,” Asmodeus warns, putting his hands up defensively. You have to act fast.
You quickly climb back onto his lap, this time facing him. You begin nibbling at his neck and your hands drift back down to his hips. You see the panic in his eyes as he strikes as well.
You squeeze his hips right as he goes in for the kill himself, pushing his wiggling fingers underneath your arms.
“AHAHAAHAHA” You both laugh and into each other just as the lights flip on. 
Now all the brothers are staring at you both, Asmodeus with his arms wrapped around you and resting on your upper back and your face buried in his neck. It doesn’t look good.
“Asmodeus, if you could refrain from screwing the human in the middle of the movie, that would be much appreciated. I understand that Diavolo wants us to improve our relationships with the humans, but I would rather not be present.” Lucifer says in his deadpan voice, just staring at you both.
“Awww, but I was having fun.” Asmodeus says, pulling you closer to him. You bury your bright red face into his neck to hide it from the others.
“At least go back to your rooms,” Beelz says “I don’t want to smell that while eating my popcorn,”
“If they get to go back to their rooms, does that mean that I can go back to mine?” Levi says, perking up a bit. 
“Well, I’m going back to mine.” Mammon grumbles, getting up and walking out of the room. He definitely doesn’t look happy and you feel bad for just a moment. You know he has feelings for you so it must really hurt seeing you in the arms of his brother. 
“Fine,” Lucifer sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers “Movie night is officially over,”
Asmodeus, in one graceful move, gets up with you still in his arms and carries you out of the room.
“I’m pretty sure I won by the way.” He says triumphantly.
<< You have unlocked alternate ending – WARNING – Rated R >>
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reddeadredemptiontrash · 6 years ago
Text
I can’t remember who posted it, (if I find the writer I’ll tag them!) but a few days ago I saw an ask on a blog requesting some blind!Kieran where Kieran never died and it inspired me to write this because Kieran is a ray of sunshine and didn’t deserve what happened to him. So enjoy! My second piece of writing on this blog!❤️
“We need some help!” Voices rang out from the entrance of camp. Everyone perked their heads up, stopping from whatever they were doing to see what was going on.
Arthur, Charles, and Lenny all rode in, and another body was seen slumped against Charles. The body was beaten, bloody, and looking at if they were gasping for breath. Y/N and Ms. Grimshaw rushed to them, and Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight.
There was Kieran Duffy, barely moving. His clothes were ripped to near shreds, the white shirt he was last seen in now completely deep red with patches of brown and black dirt. There was a cloth wrapped around his head, from the bridge of his nose and across the top of his forehead, which was also soaked with blood.
“A gang of O’Driscolls surrounded us on our way to find a new camp site, they talked about having Kieran.” Arthur explains, hopping down from the horse and helping get his body from Charles.
“We managed to get one to talk about where he was, they tried to get him to say what we were, but he never breathed a word apparently, so they were torturing him. I trust in yours and Susan’s hands he’ll be okay. I think he’ll live.” Arthur says as both you and Susan rush begins Arthur as he goes to what was Kieran’s cot and lays him down gently, Kieran gasps loudly and chokes on a pained cough.
Y/N had always seen something in Kieran that nobody else did. She knew from the beginning that a boy that awkward and nervous was nowhere near an O’Driscoll and Kieran looked like he couldn’t hurt a bug without crying. She would always paused and try to talk to him before one of the men would rush her away, saying there was plenty to do around camp and trying to friend the O’Driscoll wasn’t one of them. She always tried to sneak him water or food, last at night when most of the gang were asleep or so drunk they couldn’t tell what she was doing. Kieran started talking to her more after Dutch decided to give him a chance after saving Arthur. They bonded over taking care of the horses together and she even went fishing with him once. She didn’t fish, but she admired the happiness and excitement that radiating off of him as she watched. When he went missing, no one seemed to react the way she did. She asked around because Kieran was ALWAYS somewhere. He was either asleep, with the horses, or down by the edge of the lake fishing. No one showed worry like she did and there wasn’t a day that she wasn’t thinking about him or what he went.
“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Susan states. “I’m going to go get some clothes, alcohol, and some sewing needles, anything to try and help keep him alive. Try to get those bloody clothes off of him, the best you can.” Y/N nodded, grabbing her pocket knife. She freezes as she watches Kieran visibly shaking, tearless sobs and gasps leaving his mouth in short pants.
“I-It’s bad, real bad... ain’t it?” He chokes out as she watches him. She shushes her gently.
“I wish I could say I’ve seen worse.” She mumbles lightly.
“They... they did so... so much....” He sobbed out, cringing as he moves.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re home now Kieran, you’re home.”
“H-Home.....” His body stops shaking and her eyes widen.
“Kieran... Kieran!” She says in a hushed voice. She sees his chest moving lightly and mentally signs in relief. He’s just unconscious. She takes the opportunity to start cutting away at his messy clothes, gasping to herself as she sees just how badly injured he really was. There is only a few spots on his torso that isn’t covered with some sort of bruise or cuts, below his left side ribs, a huge cut is open and looks like it’s
in the beginning stages of becoming infected. His collarbone on his right side is swollen and he assumes it’s broken from the looks of it. Susan comes back with an arm full of supplies to try and repair as much of the damage caused by the O’Driscolls as possible. She opens the bottle of moonshine and sighs, knowing that it’s most likely going to wake Kieran up, and the last thing she needed is him going into shock. She slowly and gently scrubs the smaller cuts and dried up blood first, trying to get him as clean as possible and hoping that he would wake up before she had to clean the huge gash.
“You’re going to be okay Kieran.” She mumbles in a hushed voice as Susan watches over her before washing off his legs. He jumps slightly, groaning as he starts to shake again.
“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be gentle.” She whispers as he whimpers.
“Don’t take off this blindfold.” He chokes out in a gasp. Y/N pauses.
“Kieran, I have to clean-“
“Not yet, please just... just don’t.” He pants out. She glances at Susan who shrugs to her.
“I... I suppose it can wait until last.” She says, more to herself as she watches Kieran’s body relax before she pours the moonshine into the wound. Kieran’s blood-curling pained screams begin to fill the evening air around the camp.
A few days had went back and Kieran had slowly, very slowly became to regain enough energy to where he wasn’t blacking out every hour and could talk with a bit more ease. He was on bedrest and Y/N barely let him move a muscle without lightly scolding him and telling him she would help him with whatever he needed from her. He also though, refused to let her remove the blindfold, freaking out at any mention of it. She always felt too bad that she had sent Kieran into a panic attack, but she knew she needed to get those nasty cloths off, an infection probably hiding underneath.
“Are you awake?” She says quietly, sitting down the bowl of soup, cup of water, and clean bandages.
“Yeah, I am.” He says quietly as she sits beside his cot.
“Good, I need to change your dressings. I don’t see any blood soaked through, so that means most of the blood has seemed to stop, and last night your cut stitches were still in, hoping we can remove them in a few days.” She gave him some water and asked if he was hungry. He replied that he wasn’t really but would try after she changed his bandages. With a little bit of effort and a few pained groans from moving around, she was able to change the bandages and look over his injuries. His cut was fully closed up with no signs of infection, his bruises changing to that horrible but healing yellowish color, and the swelling on his face and body seemed to go down. She sat in silence for a few seconds.
“Kieran.... I know you don’t want me to, but... I really, really need to get those clothes off your face and see the damage.” She watches his body stiffen as a string of “no, no, no”s started to pour from his mouth.
“Why? Kieran.” She scolds and she sees his lip quiver.
“They did... awful... awful things to me miss.....” He says quietly.
“I know, but you’re healing, and we can’t continue that process until everything is looked over and cared for. It cannot be as bad as you think.” He lets out a harsh laugh that’s broken by a sob.
“You don’t know.”
“No, I don’t. Because you won’t let me, Kieran....” She pauses. “You’re still going to be Kieran to me, not matter what. I care about you, no matter what. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be taking care of you. You’re safe with us, you’re safe with me.” Silence fills the air for a moment.
“Do it.”
Her eyes widen. “Are... are you-“
“Please.” She carefully sits the cup in the hand down, slowly placing her arms around her to help lift him in a sitting position. He stays silence as she carefully cuts the cloth, hearing him suck in a breath as she begins to slowly remove it. She drops the clothes to the ground at the sight, completely frozen. She was staring into nothing but a black void of where Kieran’s bright happy eyes used to be.
“Oh my god.” She breathes out as Kieran turns his head to the side, a silence sob escaping his mouth as he tries to hide it.
“It’s bad.” He cries out, and Y/N is stunned. She didn’t know what to say, her mind just drew a blank.
“I....”
“It’s real bad. They ruined me.” He mumbles, still looking away.
Y/N slowly takes her hand, turning his stiffen head towards her as she looks at him for a few moments, keeping her hand on his cheek.
“I can feel you looking at me.” He says softly, a crimson color flooding his cheeks. “I’m a freak.”
“No, no, no.” She replies finally, shaking her head to herself.
“They... they’re all gonna pay. If we have to kill every one of the sons of bitches.” She says trying to not let her anger show.
“You’re... extremely brave and strong Kieran Duffy, living through something like that. I.... I can’t imagine.... how much that....”
“I don’t remember too much of it. I was so in and out that the pain was always numbing. The... the last thing I saw... was their faces. That’s the last thing I’ll ever see, and it haunts me every day and night. It’s always there.” Y/N didn’t realize her own eyes had flooded with tears. Kieran gently placed his hand on top of hers.
“Don’t cry miss.”
“I know, but... it hurts me to think that someone ever hurt such a gentle and kind soul like yours. You didn’t deserve that Kieran, no one does but.... goddamnit, not you.”
Another wave of silence surrounds them.
“It’s going to be okay. You know we’re all gonna help you, every step of the way. You ain’t gonna be ruined, Kieran Duffy. You ain’t.” And for the few time in days, Kieran felt a sense of hope.
“To the horses is twenty eight steps forward, step six move slightly to the left due to the table. Guide to Pearson’s cooking dinner and keep forward until I touch the horse’s hitching posts.” Y/N smiles at Kieran.
“Perfect, that’s exactly how to get from your cot to the horses. You’re doing so well.” She praised as blush forms on his cheeks, a smile spreading.
It had been over a month since Kieran was found by some of the guys, and had improved significantly. Due to the break on his collarbone and ribs, he couldn’t lift heavy stuff anymore, but his love for the horses never declined. Y/N made a system of steps and directions for Kieran at the current camp so he could walk freely to wherever he wanted to without needing to be guided. Sure, at first he bumped into Uncle or Swanson drunkingly staggering around camp, or knocking over a thing or two, but he was getting better that he could do it almost perfectly now. The gang showed an overwhelming amount of support towards the boy, helping he get around at first, Arthur finding a pair of glasses for him to wear in the sun or whenever he didn’t feel like showing his face now, and even Hosea had Arthur help make a walking cane out of high quality wood so he can have a little something to help watch for objects in his pathways. None of the members referred to him as an O’Driscoll anymore, as he was fully part of the gang’s little family. They never tried to exclude him from anything, even games like dominoes or poker, to which one of the guys or mostly Y/N would sit with him and whisper what he had and he’d whisper back what move he wanted to make. Life was good and everyone felt truly happy and from there on out, it felt like luck was starting to turn for the gang and their adventures.
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nikatyler · 6 years ago
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Another week is ending, another replies post is here. Why is it that when there’s a million deadlines waiting for me, time just gets faster? I miss the old days when I had nothing to do. Kinda.
Remember when I rambled a lot in these posts before getting to the actual replies? I have nothing to say this time, other than Roses are coming back (which you’ve probably already noticed). I’m kinda sad to see gen 2 of NSB is truly coming to an end now (in my game, it’s been over for a few months). It was definitely an era and I want to thank everyone who’s been here for this crazy ride. It seems to me like you all enjoyed it way more than I expected. I hope you’ll stay and well, we’ll see them again in a few months. This time, Sunset will be in the spotlight.
I’m talking as if there weren’t a few more days of NSB left in the queue. It’s the FiNaL cOuNtDoWn...idk why I just thought of that song but I’m gonna go listen to it now. If I’m not mistaken, Friday is the last NSB day. Enjoy it.
mysticsheepplant replied to your photoset “Rose, Sammy protect this innocent bean has the voice of an actual...”
I'm exited, I love her
Thanks! ♥ Me too. I didn’t expect to love her so much but then she stole my heart
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Rocket, do you even remember our first meeting? I was beyond pissed...”
:(
Doggos should live forever!
Agreed
@ whoever runs this planet pls make dogs immortal thank you
dandylion240 replied to your photoset “Ross: “And like…once I become a vampire, the wrinkles will be gone,...”
Aw Ross can almost be sweet
He’s trying
jackssims replied to your photoset “Hey Lilith…why are you here?”
lajsglkdas Is Lilith going to deliver her brother's baby? Iconic
ikr? She showed up there and I was like “Oh no. Oh nooo. Oh yes. This couldn’t have gotten any better.”
jackssims replied to your photoset “Lilith: “Before we start -” Caleb: “Can we do it now? We can talk...”
sljagfdlks I was like "Lilith's really breaking the 4th wall here" before I even got to the tags and honestly? I'm here for it
This couldn’t have happened without me mentioning this let’s be real
Also, if I’m not mistaken, it will soon be the second anniversary of the original Caleb abduction. The abduction that changed pretty much everything for this blog.
simsandthensome replied to your photoset “I’m blue da ba dee da ba daa Da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa,...”
you say that like I don't willingly have this song on my phone in 2019
To be fair now that you say it, I’m surprised I don’t have it on my phone
It’s kind of an annoying song but in the best way
jackssims replied to your photoset “100 baby challenge but it’s with Caleb Vatore and you have to get him...”
Chsbdjdsjjf an iconic concept
madgnomes replied to your photoset “100 baby challenge but it’s with Caleb Vatore and you have to get him...”
I like this idea haha
mysticsheepplant replied to your photoset “100 baby challenge but it’s with Caleb Vatore and you have to get him...”
TBH I wanna do that with Don Lothario
Imagine if I actually did that. Should I? Also, I love the idea of doing that to Don Lothario instead. Don deserves it because he’s kinda the worst.
cafeheart replied to your photoset “Rose, Lydia wants to fight everyone basically an angry chihuahua ...”
looks like a cinnamon roll but will e a t y o u
As in...oh god I didn’t think of that and I hate it but also you’re not wrong. Good point lmao
Me: I’m an innocent child!!!1!1!11!
Also me: immediately thinks of this
tealiah replied to your photoset “Mid-Century Twin Houses I’ve been inspired by people putting multiple...”
This is SO cool!!
Thank you! I tried.
lilleputtu replied to your photoset “To quote one of my favourite P!ATD songs: you looked at death in a...”
Rocket Breeze - Vampire Dog, coming to a NSB near you very soon
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “To quote one of my favourite P!ATD songs: you looked at death in a...”
Yay, long live the pup!
I wish we could have actual vampire dogs. Kinda weird but kinda cool
elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Shhh, Lucian. Shhh…come on. Seriously, would you shut up? Your...”
Nice to see some things about Ross haven't changed. He's terrible with kids.
He might be a better person now but deep down in the core, it’s still our good old buddy Ross :D
elisabettasims replied to your photoset “I used to love this kind of cake…why do I hate it now? Caleb can eat...”
This sounds like a clear case of 'be careful what you wish for'.
Yup. But I guess giving up the cake is worth it
whysimstho replied to your photoset “Sunset: “Give me that ball, Rocket! We’ll buy you an age-down treat if...”
Me everytime there's a rocket post: not to be dramatic but I'd die for you my darling boy
Same
melideesim replied to your post “One of the best Not So Berry Simblrs! ��”
I agree with this. I binge-read the entire legacy from start to now yesterday!
GUYS YOU’RE TOO NICE TO ME
Thank you so much! I don’t feel like I’m doing anything special but really, thanks a lot :’)
fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Speaking of cakes, Ross is willing to give it a try again.”
I mean...cake! ����
I’ve only now noticed how obsessed my sims are with it
fataleromeo replied to your photoset “If this ain’t the cutest dark form I’ve ever seen”
❤❤❤
aestheicpixels replied to your photoset “If this ain’t the cutest dark form I’ve ever seen”
Awwww
simlovinggirl replied to your photoset “If this ain’t the cutest dark form I’ve ever seen”
Awwwww he's the cutest vampire oml ♥ ♥
It wasn’t really my intention to make him look cute, but then he did this and I knew he was trying to be scary but actually...it was just adorable.
jackssims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Told you this would be the best thing to do. I’ve always told...”
I'm soft for these two tf
We all are
whysimstho replied to your photoset “Ross: “Told you this would be the best thing to do. I’ve always told...”
Can I just say I LOVE that he still has his lighter hair color
I wanted to keep it to show that he’s different now, or something like that. I can’t think of the right word at the moment. Classic Ronnie
aestheicpixels replied to your photo “you’ll be mine”
He's such a cutie!!
This is where he was supposed to look all evil and scary but he’s already failing lmao
jackssims replied to your photo “you’ll be mine”
I thought of this the other day! Foreshadowing in plain sight, I love it
I was wondering if anyone would see it coming or if it would be more like “oh yeah, Halloween, vampires, of course she did that, no big deal, let’s move on”.
fataleromeo replied to your photo “you’ll be mine”
Oh wow, I love this! I don't think I was following you back when it was originally posted. Glad I am now!
♥♥
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “He’s so cute and I’m dead. Also, I have a headcanon that babies who...”
Aaaawww he's really precious!
In each Form
This was the moment I was suddenly happy Caleb got abducted again
tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “This is gay sim twilight I'm living for it”
If twilight was gay I would be into it. Probably. I'm kinda proud that I never had "twilight phase"
I’ve only ever watched the first movie. I don’t remember it too much though. But I remember having like two Twilight posters from teen magazines on my wardrobe when I was about 11 because I wanted to be cool, even though I didn’t really know what it was. I just knew everyone was talking about it.
I also had this idea that “cool kids have posters everywhere” so...yeah. I was a weird kid at that time.
simlovinggirl replied to your photoset “Stella: that’s my otp”
Mine too Stella, mine too ♥
They’re everyone’s otp here, aren’t they? :D 
I’ll never forget when I asked who you guys ship Ross with and everyone who replied just said Caleb. There were a few other guesses, but everyone mentioned they were rooting for Caleb. The audience’s love for these two is one of my favourite things about this generation.
is it weird that i just called you guys audience
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kanene-yaaay · 4 years ago
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Uh-Oh ~
Kanene’s note: Heya! YellowHeart!Anon talking here!!! xDDD Oh gosh, sorrey, I was nervous when I sent you the ask @oliviaischillin1204 (for absolutely no reason at all, you’re the sweetest, dear <3) and Your Precious AU that owns my heart. (first link the AU itself and second her t-fic of it).
Also, that fanfic was inspired in this scene of that manga.
Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:
* This characters don’t belong to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides! And the AU belong to Olivia!
* This is a SFW Tickle-Fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b
* Oneshot. Something around 1.200 words. ( This fic is litol but it’s honest work. XD). Lee!Patton (and a bit of lee!Logan) and Ler!Janus (and a bit of Ler!Patton, as well) in Human AU. Romantic Moceit.
* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! I didn’t proofreaded this fic AT ALL ohmygosh I’m sorrey asdfghjklkjsdfgh. We die like a men. >:D
* I will probably make a second part for this? Maybe xDD. Poderá ser traduzida num futuro próximo. Só preciso de tempo aaa. Thankys so much for reading, my lollipops!! Have a wonderful and tickly day! Yay!! 
[~*~]
Patton hummed lazily, his left-hand careless combing Logan’s hair while his free hand held his phone, watching the new episode of his favorite show with subtitles on, since, by the way the his son’s soft snores filled the air and a pressure laid on his chest, Logan fell asleep in the middle of their afternoon reading.
The parental figure lowered his gaze to his baby – he could almost hear Logan saying, a determined frown on his face, that ‘I’m not a baby, I’m seven!– resting a caring kiss on his forehead, his heart feeling like he could explode from all the love and cuteness. How was he so lucky to be the father of three wonderful, precious, amazing, smart, incredible and cute beings just like Logan, Remus and Roman? He had no idea.
The sound of steps pulled him from the sea of memories which began to flow. Patton directed his gaze to his husband, who just got in the room, stretching and yawning, probably he just had gotten up after putting the twins to sleep in one of the great amounts of naps and very much likely taking some minutes to snuggle with them and rest a bit as well.
“Pictureeee!!” Patton mouthed when their eyes met, his gaze flickering between Janus and Logan, a gigantic smile splitting his face in half, using every drop of self-control to not start to bounce.
Janus snorted and rolled his eyes fondly, however doing as asked. Patton turned to kiss Logan’s forehead again, this time for posing purposes.
Then a sensation shocked all his body, a yelp almost flying from his mouth and a squirm being held in the very last second. His head shouted to Janus’ direction.
Only to see the aforementioned toothless smiling and blinking in a mix of a smug, innocent face. Patton followed slowly the length of his arm, his heart beating quickly, as if he was in a horror movie, finally resting his fingers hovering inches away from his calf, wiggling, wiggling, wiggling.
“Janus!” Patton whispered, his voice failing when the other started to mindless poke and pinch the ticklish spot, the tingles running up his body nonstop, waking up his butterflies and muffled his bubbly giggles. “N-no!”
“Shhh, honey. You don’t want to wake Logan up, right?”
Patton widened his eyes, gaze quickly changing to Logan, who contently adjusted his sleepy form on his chest, nuzzling closer. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
“Uh-oh… Looks like someone is stuck. ~”
“Janus don’t-!” His sentence was quickly cut by snort, consequently making Patton slap his hand on his mouth, pressing it as heat took over his cheeks. Janus’ grin only expanded even more, now concentrating his attack on both calves.
One hand following an unbearable pattern consisted on drawing shapes from his ankle, fast spidering all his way up - taking full advantage on the opportunity to deliver some tickly scribbling on his way – across the length of his calf until research that spot just below the back of his knee, resting there with some great scratches, feeling the barely controlled kicks resulted of his new discovering.
“Ohoho myihi. S-s-stop!!” The other hand ceased his light squeezes in order to lift his index finger before his husband’s lips, the universal sign to ‘shhhh’ just worsening the state of the thousands of bouncy giggles already protesting for freedom on his throat. However, Janus was fast to lowering his fingers, clawing closer and closer and even closer, to his immensely sensitive skin.
“You’re doing so well, dear.” The so sweet, so teasy whispered tune leaded to the red on his face crawl to his neck, some titters escaping between his firmly pressed lips and closed fingers, tingles and goosebumps racing in every single other ticklish spot left untouched. Every single nerve pleading to be able to squirm and fight the tickles off. But no! Patton determined decided! Above his ticklishness he was a father! A dad! The peaceful nap of his loved kiddo would not be interrupted! He is going to be strong! “What if we play a game?”
He was going to die.
Patton shook his head and free hand, trying to get rid of the excited built energy, while not trusting in the slightest in his voice. Janus sticks resolute even under the glare of his so powerful Puppy Eyes, a dangerous gleam on his expression.
“It’s very, very easy, you see. Actually, I’m absolutely sure you will be…” He lightly tased his husband’s left calf, calmly resting his hand on the other. “Shocked at how much easy it is to win this game.”
The teasing, the tickles, the pun… Patton controlled the sea of squeals, using every piece of will to not break, silent snorts slipping from his cracks. Janus just leaned closer, being sure his breath tickled any and every inch of the so poor, so sad ticklish ears.
“The game is called: How much time can Pattycake endure before becoming a blushed mess of laughter?”
Patton felt his fingers prepare themselves, slightly folding as pressured multiple spots on both of his calves. “No, no! Not this, Janus!” He desperately pleaded, already giggling, already feeling Janus get ready to attack. “Love, love! You know I can’t stand-” His breath hitched, full laughter filling the room.
But it wasn’t his.
“Daddy is so red!!”
Everything stopped.
Patton traveled his watery glare, all the bubbly, squeaky giggled he had trapped now taking the opportunity to run away, between his son and husband. Logan and Janus, again, again, back and forth, back and forth.
The only adult up quick recomposed himself, the fate he would have if not controlled the situation making a wobbly piece of smile took over his features. He stared his partner dead on his eyes.
“I’ll help you to get Logan back. You know how adorably squeaky he gets when we both tickle his neck.”
“No!!” Logan jolted upright, betrayal painting his words. Big eyes looking at Patton – and his evil grin – when the other fixed his gaze on him. “It was Papa’s idea!!!”
The adult with glasses askew turned towards Janus.
“Logan’s. Giggles.”
“He was the one tickling you! He was being so mean!”
“I will make your favorite spaghetti for dinner.”
“I will learn how to cook! I can get your phone and see some videos and follow them you know I’m good at following insti-tituctions and you will only need to turn on the oven for me because you said fire is dangerous and-and then I can get a chair to climb on it and use the balcony I know I’m not the best at climbing trees and I almost fell but I won’t fall this time ‘cause I am good at climbing chairs and then I will make the best spaghetti ever and I can make it every every day just like you also cook food for me every day and I will also clean the dis-ches and eat everything on my plate even the greenies and-No!! Daddy!!” Logan knew he lost when his dad’s arms began to hug him from behind, not being bothered for how much he squirmed as his back was gently pressed on Patton’s chest, fingers worming their way under his shirt. “No, daddy! No! Not fair! Nohohohot fahaha!! Pahahahapa!!”
Janus was quick to follow, sitting on the couch and delivering a noisy raspberry on the boy’s neck, happily hearing his laughter get louder in a mix of crackles and squeals. Patton added to his attack butterfly kisses behind his ticklish ears, each one accompanied by an exaggerated ‘Mwua!’
“Mwua! Mwua!!” He nibbled a bit the tickle spot, conquering belly laughter from his sweet revenge, managing to whisper quietly enough so only his baby heard their future plan. “We will get Papa right before the dinner, okay Logie-bear? Mwua! Mwua!”
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quilloftheclouds · 6 years ago
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WIP Questions Tag Game
Because I have to start this blog off somehow! Say hello to some random facts about One Siren’s Soul.
... what, what do you mean I could post some actual writing? Pfft, no.
I actually got this game from @thelysstener​‘s blog and thought it was pretty cool! I wasn’t tagged or anything but I really like doing tag games. Hope you don’t mind!
1: Describe the plot in one sentence
Magical things get stolen from magical people, forcing a siren, a sea witch, a pirate, and a legend of the Royal Navy to begrudgingly work together to get them back. (Aka: A study in how Quill doesn’t know how to write story pitches yet) 2: Pick one sight, smell, sound, feel, and taste to describe the aesthetic for your WIP. (I definitely did not follow the “one” thing but too bad)
Sight: The soft, welcome blues of the sky peeking through clouds of a dispersing storm, the ocean below calm despite its froth of foam drifting across rippled dark water.
Smell: Salt and drying seaweed and rotting fish. And then a permeating, engulfing scent from the ocean that you can’t place or describe, like the very depths of its soul. Magic.
Sound: The howl of wind through a cave opening, a background of distant waves crashing amidst sea bird’s cries.
Feel: The crackling of static electricity through your fingertips as you smooth down the folds of your clothing on a stormy day.
Taste: The slight tang of something metallic. Is that blood, or sweat, or metal? Or all three? (Or the tears of my future readers?)
3: Which 3+ songs would make a playlist for your novel?
I’m normally better at making playlists for things but in this case I was really picky, so...
Your Bones by Of Monsters And Men (Probably one of the biggest inspirations for the overall aesthetic and just... feeling of my wip.)
Sirens by Fleurie (The name and lyrics of this song fit in both definitions of the word.)
Coastline by Hollow Coves (There’s... a happy song on this list? What?)
4: What’s the time period and location in which your novel takes place? 
Early 18th century on an alternate Earth in the North Atlantic.
5: Are there any former titles you’ve considered but discarded? 
So uh. Funny story about that. One Siren’s Soul was originally going to start with ‘A’ instead of ‘One’. I realized pretty quickly why that wasn’t such a good idea, and also I just like how it sounds more, now? 6: What’s the first line of your novel? 
Mmmmm this is a first draft, mate, I don’t wanna touch that just yet. 7: What’s a line of dialogue you’re particularly proud of?
Oh, jeez. All of the ones I really like are heavily context dependent or ridden with spoilers. In lieu of those, have a somewhat-kinda-funny one:
“Colin! Nice to see yer up. Or, well. Down.” - George, right after Colin falls flat on his face in front of him.
8: Which line from the novel most represents it as a whole? 
~Spoilers are fuunnnn~ 9: Who are your character(s) face claims? 
I’m definitely not the most set on these (especially for Io and Dione), but:
Celestine - Amandla Stenberg
Colin - Booboo Stewart
Phoenix - Enam Heikeens Honya
Dione - Maggie Duran
George - Johnny Harrington
Isabel - Camila Cabello
Io - Kirby Griffin
Rose - Nivetha Pethuraj
I have no idea for Io or Sheila or Alixandre yet, oops.
10: Sort your characters into Hogwarts houses.
For some reason these sorts of things are always tough for me? I myself don’t fit in only one so I think that’s worn off on my characters. Here’s some approximates, though:
Gryffindor: Phoenix, Isabel, Colin
Ravenclaw: Dione, Alixandre
Hufflepuff: George, Sheila
Slytherin: Rose
I can’t decide whether Celestine is in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, and Io’s stuck somewhere between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
11: Which character’s name do you like the most?
Chichima is probably my favourite. Who’s that, you ask? Nyehehee.
Including full names it’d probably be Phoenix Solarin because if that isn’t the most over the top thing to name a pyro I don’t know what is.
12: Describe each character’s daily outfit:
I’m just... gonna do my PoV characters, since I have too many characters in general, and fashion (especially historical) is not my strong suit.
Celestine: Maroon, long-sleeved dress; long, cream woolen scarf; and a pair of dark brown, lace up leather boots.
Colin: Simple white tunic; red and multi-coloured knit sash around his waist; brown trousers; and black cavalier boots (but to be honest he goes barefoot way too often).
Phoenix: Simple white blouse; bright red sash around her waist and as a headband; dark trousers; and buckled black leather boots. She gets a scarlet frock coat with gold trim later on.
Dione: Honestly, I have no idea how to describe Dio’s clothes. Other than black felt boots and a light green dress-like thing, I know she has a billion hidden pockets and a giant, hooded, fur and wool cloak that covers over all of the rest of her clothes so you can’t even see them. I dunno.
13: Do any characters have any distinctive birthmarks/scars?
Phoenix has a tattoo of crossed cannons somewhere (and also her, you know, vitiligo), George probably has a couple sailor’s tattoos as well, Isabel only has one arm, Celestine is missing her whole left eye, and Io has very distinctive scarring that she hides and is totally not going to become plot important at all.
14: Which character most fits a character trope?
Maybe Sheila? She’s the sweet and kind old lady shopkeeper who has all the best juicy gossip for our main cast to conveniently learn of.
15: Which character is the best writer? Worst?
Dione. Just. No competition. She writes poetry in her free time. She keeps a diar—I-I mean journal. Also she has actual training in writing but you’re not supposed to know that so shhh. Worst is probably Colin. He can barely read due to his dyslexia and as a regular deckhand he never really had the need to learn anyways.
16: Which character is the best liar? Worst?
You’d think it’d be actual thief and criminal Celestine but no, it’s Phoenix. Also another character I can’t mention because spoilers. Worst would be Colin. That comes up a lot. Sorry, Colin.
17: Which character swears the most? Least?
Rose. Swears. A LOT. Celestine does in Spanish. Least would probably be Alixandre because he’s just... too sweet. Too innocent of a boi.
18: Which character has the best writing? Worst?
Dione also has the best handwriting, since spoiler reasons but also she’s just like that. Colin’s handwriting isn’t the best, but it’s actually Io’s absolute chicken scratch that takes the cake for the worst. You wonder how people can even read her ship logs.
19: Which character is the most like you? Least like you?
Fun fact: Colin was originally based on another character of mine that was originally based on a sona form of me. So. His clumsiness is a new development, I don’t have that, and I’m apparently really good at lying, so there’re some differences. (Also I’m a writer and he can barely read. Oops.) But that obliviousness? That absolute clueless, distractibility? That inability to sit still? Those terrible puns and attempts at being socially adept? That’s me.
20: Which character would you most like to be?
I think Phoenix? You’ll find out why that is in the book, ‘cause her true personality isn’t quite the one people think of her as having, but... yeah. Phoenix is fun.
I’m gonna ignore the rules like a rebel and not tag anyone, so I’ll just tag everyone who wants to do this, instead!
Want to learn more about One Siren’s Soul? You can find the page here. I’m going to be starting a taglist soon, too, so let me know if you’d like to be added!
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