#ticklish!Seer

[angelatmidnight1]

Falling Flat

A/N: I'm not sure if you're still here anon, and I can't find the ask anymore, but this is the tickle fic for lee!Seer, ler!Octane story that was requested a while ago. Sorry it took so long. I'm really rusty in this fandom but I hope you like it!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Pairing: Octane and Seer- platonic.

Word Count: 2,335.

Octane was popping off in a match alongside Seer, only to trip over a death box and fall. And, Seer refuses to let him live it down. He makes one playful comment too many before Octane prods at a ticklish spot. He doesn’t get much of a reaction out of him, seemingly not ticklish, but he’s determined. Octane’s determination pays off; Seer is indeed ticklish. He’s just annoyingly good at hiding it. 

“Silva, wait.” 

Seer hurried after his teammate in a duos match, falling further and further behind. Octane scoffed and jabbed himself with another stim. 

“No way, Obi! I want in on this action,” He threw the empty stim over his shoulder, stuck himself with another one, and literally left him in the dust. He whipped out his shotgun, grinning as he loomed in on Containment, where multiple teams were fighting. “I won’t take all of the loot…maybe!”

Seer halted, putting both of his hands on his knees. He wasn’t a stranger to a long run, but keeping up with Octane was impossible. He used his Heart Seeker to scan the area ahead. Sure enough, he detected multiple heart beats. He sighed. 

“The show begins,” He unholstered his R301 and threw down his Exhibit to highlight the enemies’ positions. “With luck, we will be the last squad remaining on stage.”

Octane didn’t need any luck. He entered the fray in a green blur, downing enemies left and right. It was either that the enemies didn’t see him until it was too late, or they were too slow to react if they did. By the time Obi got his shots in, Octavio was the kill leader, and death boxes littered the ground like confetti. 

“HAHA! What’d I say?” Octane, still riding the high of adrenaline, whirled around and grinned at his teammate. “Told you I’d kick their asses. Didn’t even need any of your fancy tech.” 

Seer rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You may not have needed it, but I trust that my exhibit made it easier to locate our opponents. Still, your performance was spectacular. They were not prepared for you.”

As if Octane’s ego needed to get any bigger, he cheered. “¡Gracias, amigo! Now, enough talk,” He stepped over one of the death boxes. “Let’s go find another—”

His foot got caught under the box he intended to step over. Instead, he tripped and hit the ground with an ungraceful splat. Any loot that he picked up spilled out of his inventory, and his shotgun ended up skidding away from him. “Maldita caja (damn box), my foot—”

Seer inadvertently snorted. He turned his head, face hidden by his hat, and chuckled. While Octavio worked on prying his foot free, he gave his teammate a bewildered look. 

“Why’re you standing there? Help me move this box,” Octane demanded. The box was heavier than it looked, and the speedster’s foot was really caught. Seer’s shoulders shook with restrained laughter before he got himself together. 

“My apologies,” Seer coughed and wiped one of his eyes. He approached him and leaned over to lift the box up. “Here, allow me.”

Octavio would’ve thanked him if Seer’s eyes weren’t glossy with tears. He narrowed his eyes behind his goggles. “Were you just laughing?”

“I was not laughing at you.” Seer answered, smiling. “I hope you are not injured, truly. I just— the manner in which you fell was comical.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Octane bristled. “My foot got stuck under the stupid box!”

“I noticed.” Seer did his best to suppress another chuckle, but he still wore the remnants of a grin. After he helped Octane move the box off his foot, he helped him stand. “Come, I believe I hear more enemies to our west. But allow me to go ahead of you, so I can pinpoint any tripping hazards.”

Octane rolled his eyes, chuckling. For someone as artsy-fartsy as Obi, he had jokes. “Shut up, let’s just go..” He playfully nudged the artist’s side. Seer fidgeted and went ahead. Octavio wasn’t truly upset;  it was refreshing that his friend had a funny bone. Rest assured, though, he’d get him back for those little jokes.

The jokes persisted even after the games. As the Legends returned to the drop ship, Seer lounged across a sofa in the common room, watching a replay of the match on his tablet. He sometimes looked at his past matches for a source of inspiration for his art.The cameras caught Octane’s fall and he put a hand over his mouth to stifle his chuckling. This caught Octavio’s attention, who normally didn’t like sitting around, but definitely needed a breather. He had an energy drink in hand as he approached the sofa. He peeked over the artist’s shoulders and chided him.

“You’re still laughing at that? It wasn’t funny!” Octane climbed over the couch and elbowed the man’s side again. “Turn it off.”

Seer chuckled some more. “I am only rewatching the match to inspire my drawings. The arena is dangerous territory and I wish to immortalize memorable battles. Your acrobatics were definitely something to remember.” 

Octane narrowed his eyes, feeling a mix of amusement and mild annoyance, before his lips turned into a dangerous grin. “Yeah? You think so?” 

Seer’s chuckles died down, giving way to a questioning look. Then, without warning, Octane put his drink down and lunged towards him, fingers prodding into his exposed side. Obi gasped and almost dropped the tablet. Encouraged, Octane dove in again, giving the same side a squeeze. “Go on, laugh it up, fancy pants.”

The artist stiffened and chased after the speedster’s hand with his own, barely managing to catch it. “Octavio, what—”

Octane’s grin widened. He easily pulled his hand out of the man’s grip and wormed his fingers across his stomach. “Ticklish, amigo?” 

Obi’s breath hitched, and after failed attempts to re-grab Octavio’s hand, he settled for scooting out of his reach, arm around his torso. “No, I am not. And I apologize, I will refrain from teasing you further.” 

“Oh no, we’re way past that,” Octane followed Seer and snickered as he held him back. “Why’d you flinch if you’re not ticklish?”

“It was a reflex,” Seer wrestled with his arms and managed to keep the determined speedster at bay. “Octavio, biko, this isn’t necessary.”

“Like hell it isn’t! You’ve been cracking jokes about me all day. If you’re not ticklish, then this shouldn’t bother you.” The pushing and grappling of arms continued until Octane gained a window of opportunity. With his lightning fast reflexes, he managed to reach around Obi’s arms and use both hands to prod and scribble into his stomach. 

Again, Seer jolted. He wasn’t as ticklish as some of the more sensitive Legends, at least not without a softer touch, but Octane was persistent. He was able to refrain from laughing, save for sharp intakes of air, and battled with the speedster’s hands. 

“You sure are squirming a lot for someone who isn’t ticklish,” Octane smirked. He stayed two steps ahead of the artist by jumping to a different spot on his torso whenever he tried to grab him. “Makes me think you’re lying.”

“I am n-nohot-” Seer chuckled ever so slightly when squeezed just below his ribs. Both men froze, a knowing glint behind Octavio’s goggles, but the moment was short lived. 

Seer rose, intending to create space between himself and Octavio. Octane was quick to follow. He may have had speed on his side, but Obi was incredibly nimble, making it difficult to bring him down. Literally.

“You laughed!” Octavio lunged towards him again, trying to drag him back down to the sofa, but Obi was able to wriggle out of the attempts. “Just admit it and maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

Even while avoiding Octane wriggling fingers, Seer moved with grace. He almost danced out of his grasp and held the speedster back by the shoulders. There was an almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. 

“You are mistaken, I assure you. Now, let us discuss this calmly without resorting to such antics.”

“Boring!” Octane cut in and twisted in the man’s hold. With a couple of quick, erratic movements, he was free again. “Nope, you asked for this.”

“Then you leave me no choice—” Seer grunted as the speedster tackled him but, this time, he was ready. Before Octane could pin him, his hands shot up and buried under his arms, his finger claws scritching into the soft center of his underarms. Octavio screeched before dissolving into loud laughter. 

“HEHEY! N-Nohoho you dohon’t!” Despite his words, and despite sitting on Obi’s waist, Octane swiveled his body to and fro, abandoning his own attack to defend himself. Seer smirked. 

“I was hoping to have a conversation, but it seems that this is all you will respond to.” He spoke calmly over his wild cackles and sat up, swiping his fingers in circular motions over the sensitive skin. “That is fine. I am nothing if not adaptable.”

Octane’s laughter only grew louder as Seer’s fingers continued fluttering over his armpits. He doubled over and squeezed over the man’s knees on his way down; not necessarily to tickle, but it earned him a startled yelp. It was distracting enough to get the artist to pause, and Octavio took the opportunity to flip their positions. Octane pinned Seer down on his stomach and went for the same spot: the underarms. 

Octane didn’t know to what extent Seer was ticklish; hell, he didn’t expect him to be ticklish at all! Tickling him was a shot in the dark that he didn’t think would go very far. The artist squeezed his arms against his sides as Octane worked his thumbs into the hollows. He squirmed and tried to crawl forward, but Octavio sitting on his back made it impossible. 

“O-Octahavio-” Seer pursed his lips to keep from laughing, but a few chuckles still escaped him. He didn’t make it easy for Octane; he writhed and bucked when those quick scritches worked down his ribs, then to his sides. “Wait!”

“Nope. I already told you, waiting’s boring.” The speedster chuckled and reached underneath him to resume tickling his stomach. No matter how much he squirmed, he was able to stay on his back and run his short nails up and down his abdomen. Then, unconsciously, he lightly poked back up his sides, and those restrained chuckles became a lot more prominent. 

Octane grinned broadly. “Yeah, totally not ticklish,” Having made the connection, he spidered back up the man’s sides, earning louder chuckles. “Could’ve fooled me, Obi.”

Seer’s shoulders shook as he tried, and failed, to stop chuckling. He squirmed more vigorously as the notion of squirming away became less likely. “I dihihd nohot mehehan- please, wahahait!”

Octane prodded just below the man’s rib cage, relishing in his usual stoic friend’s frantic snickering. “Didn’t mean what?” He repeated, suddenly jumping back to his armpits and scribbling. Seer bucked and laughed deeply. “Didn’t mean to laugh at me, or didn’t mean to call me a klutz?”

“I dihihd nOHOHOt cahahall youhuhu a klutz!” Seer insisted in between bouts of laughter. He desperately squeezed his arms against his sides even more, but it didn’t deter Octane’s tickling. Octane was still able to scrabble around the man’s armpits, alternating between digging into the centers and lightly circling around the area. The latter got a slightly stronger reaction. “Bihihkohoho! I will not tehehease you again, I promise!”

 “Yeah, and I’ll start walking everywhere,” Octane laughed. He moved his hands back to his ribs and pinched along the back of them, eliciting even harder laughter. “You were laughing before, right? So go ahead: laugh!”

 Seer rocked side to side, his laughter taking on a desperate note as the speedster continued to pinch and knead over his ribs. “I’m SOHOHORRY!” He tried to roll onto his back and trap Octavio’s hands, but he made sure he stayed put. “OcthHAHAvio!”

“Damn, had I known you were this ticklish before, maybe I wouldn’t have thought you were so boring.” Octane snickered and let him turn over. He continued to tickle his ribs, worming in between the bones before raking his nails back and forth, which left the artist in stitches. All of his squirming and laughing made his hat come off, and the tickling continued. 

The energy drink that Octavio had earlier had kicked in and, despite having a blast tickling Seer, he needed to stretch his legs. That didn’t mean he had to stop the fun so soon, though. He slowed his tickle attack to a halt, climbing off the man’s waist to stretch his legs. Seer heavily let his head fall back on the ground as he caught his breath.

“You are incorrigible,”  Seer breathed. He sat up and gathered his hat off of the ground, brushing off any dust specks. While he spoke, Octane downed the rest of his energy drink. Then, he smirked. 

“Don’t get too comfortable yet, Obi. We’re not done,” Octane’s smirk widened as he threw the can over his shoulder. “Just wanted to stretch my legs. But I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“I- what more do you want besides an apology?”

“Forget that!” Octane scoffed.  “I’m not really mad. You laughed at me, so it’s only fair that I get to make you laugh too. Ten.” 

Seer backed away when the man leaned towards him. He grinned an apprehensive grin. “Surely we can resolve this in another way? Perhaps by sparring in the training grounds?”

“Nope! Nine.”

“Octavio-”

The speedster did a fake-out lunge towards him, laughing when he flinched. “You’re still talking? Eight sevensixfive-”

Seer’s eyes widened and, without another word, he sprinted out of the common room and down the hall. It wasn’t even another three seconds before he heard the metallic whir of Octane’s legs behind him. In his haste to get away, he stumbled over the carpet, and Octane was quick to seize the opportunity. Octavio burst out laughing as he wrestled the man back down. 

“Nohoho! Octahahavio! OCTAHAHAVIO!”

While Octane worked on getting his legs down, he squeezed at Obi’s knees, and the man wheezed. He kept his hands there, laughing harder as Obi squirmed like a fish out of water.

“Dude, really? After all that talk, you take a spill like that?” Octane eventually managed to get Obi’s legs pinned underneath him and continued tickling. It’d be a while before he’d let Seer dash off again.

[queenendless]

😂Ticklish Remedy(Student!SatoSuguxStudent!Fem!Reader)😂

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get out! I gotta write more JJK tk fics in the future. This one I rushed, it's true.

Content: Angst, hurt/comfort, more exposition than tickles but obvious tickles, mention of reader gaining seer vision cursed technique powers for possible future plot development, Shoko Ieiri cameo, and SatoSugu poly loving.

Credit for characters and art used goes to Gege sensei.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy.

Why were you in such a pathetic mood?

Waking up from a messed up dream in a cold sweat?

Coming back from a mission where more damage than saving was done?

Or a hard downpour out of nowhere soaked you and would be around for the remainder of the evening?

All of the above.

In this life, you are the quiet, sweet protective being. But it takes certain things to set you off. All of the above, for instance.

Another big one would be the only friends turned found family you ever had and known getting harmed in any way, whether from slander from those foolish higher ups or certain corrupted humans you were obligated to save and not harm for retribution despite getting injured on the job because of them. Those indeed pissed you off.

That wasn't the case this time.

Nah, you're just having one of those days.

You had just left the shower, clad in a dry tee shirt and short shorts, going stomach first flopping on your dorm room bed in a downtrodden sense, when a loud knock on your door made you moan in refusal, smothering your face in your pillow.

"L/n? Sweetie? Y/n-chaaaaaan~?!"

Satoru's loud rambles; his voice always making you smile, now sounded irritating to you. "Go away." Your muffled yell made a new voice join in.

"Y/n? Honey? Are you alright?"

Suguru's concerned voice made you feel bad at behaving this way towards them when it wasn't their fault at all. "Not really."

"Excuse us. We're coming in." Suguru's warning was followed by your dorm room door sliding opening as their heads popped up through behind the door, your weak wave giving them the prompt to just come in.

They were both still in uniform but also in socks and slippers, as Satoru flopped down, jostling the bed, before spooning you from behind and Suguru sliding your door closed before sitting on the edge of the bed in front of you and held your hand in his; rubbing comforting circles on your knuckles with his thumb when he asked.

"How bad?"

Your hesitant sigh didn't bode well. "I was sent alone to exorcize a second-grade curse spirit after it ended several regulars working at a cemetery."

"Yaga-sensei told us." Suguru's pitying gaze made you whine weakly. "We're sorry we couldn't go with you."

Flashes of your nightmare from early morning resurfaced; your pinched expression being a sign of your discomfort. "The same nightmare happened again. Just … bloodied corpses … of those I care for …that shadowed, stitched forehead bastard's smile ... and I'm unable to move or scream or do anything …" Your voice wavered as your form trembled with a deep-rooted frustration and pain on this particular dilemma.

You still had no freaking idea who or what it was; human or cursed spirit, let alone why you kept having these dreams. A warning? Perhaps. You were slowly climbing up the ranks in terms of developing your Innate technique; as odd as it was in getting impactful visions followed by side effecting migraines. And this was yet another unknown future threat standing in your way.

"Plus I got rained down hard coming back here. So there." You pouted, taking Suguru's hand in your own, just to splat it over your face, amusing the latter despite the gloomy vibe.

"That bad, huh? God, quite the depressing mood bundle you are!" Satoru sighed loudly.

You jammed your thumb over your shoulder into Satoru's cheek, dryly retorting. "Obnoxious creep." You thrusted your pointer finger of the same hand forward in Suguru's face. "Weird bangs guy."

"Now sweetie, I know you're just saying those things because you're down in the dumps… but it still wounds me!" Satoru mockingly cried out, ruffling your hair, further driving the point of getting stabbed in the feels.

"Honey, you're wrong. About my bangs, I mean. Satoru … nah that's right on the mark." Geto poked your nose, smirking like the smart ass he is, rubbing salt in the wound.

"Hey!" Gojo flared up, dagger eyes on his bestie at the betrayal.

You snorted at their interaction. Satoru's face stubbornly set in a pouting expression, when the sound you just made gave him quite the amusing idea as he kissed your forehead down from up above you. "So, what you need right now is some serious cheering up, 101."

A twisted smile suddenly wormed up on his face. It makes your gut squirm with nerves.

"Suguru~" The sing-song tone to his name snatched the younger man's attention. "It seems our lovely girlfriend is too grumpy for our liking~!"

The same twisted feeling inside you doubled as Suguru smiled at you in the same manner.

"Yes … we should remedy that right away."

Able to read each other's thoughts down pat; synced as the best friends they are, meant they were both on board for their evil agenda.

"Uh, chotto matte," Your Nihongo Jouzu reflexes came spilling out as nervous giggles did as well, fidgeting as your attempts to get up and pull away from Satoru's hold were futile for his arms tightened around your waist and pulled quick enough to flush your back against his front. "Not that. Anything but that!"

"Y/n-chan … if you plead more, I'll consider it." Suguru calmly mused as he climbed up on your bed, trapping your legs in between his knees, coyly smiling. "Maybe~"

A squeal sprung free from your lips as the spider-like fingers of Satoru squeezed your sides before wriggling into your ribs. "I'd rather she beg. After all, she wants this so much~!" Satoru smugly taunted, that fat ass smirk plastered on his face when you jabbed your elbow hard in his side.

"Liar liar pants on fire – AAH~!" Your retort was cut off by your own shriek as Satoru's fingertips slithered around to deeply drag across your belly.

"Oh ho, you're gonna get it now!" Satoru's deepened tone spoke doom for you. Suguru's snickers only added to it.

Your spastic, laughing form was kicking, flailing, and bouncing to both their inner amusement and glee; the bed squeaking and the headboard hitting the wall many times in the process.

"Cootchie cootchie coo~!" Satoru's fingers slid through your shirt sleeves to pinch and wring the bare skin of your armpits.

"Tohohohohoru you ahahahahahass~!" You slam your shoulders into his in another attempt to push him off, but that lean skinny bode hid such strength beneath.

"Hey! I have a fine ass, I'll have you know!" Gojo's pursed lips were made to good use as he began doing raspberries from the crook of your neck to the base of it to under your ear, speaking in between every tingling blow. "Very. Fine. Indeed!" His snowy hair added to the ticklish sensation as his puffy locks brushed your cheek.

"You twohoohoo beheheheheter stahahahap or I swehehehear I'll – EEK~!" You squeaked harder as Suguru exchanges wiggling squeezes between your shaking kneecaps and your thighs. "Suhuhuhuhugu qu – quihihihit it~!!"

Geto snorted. "Jackass is more like it."

"Your face up my ass the other day spoke otherwise, if you recall~" Satoru's buzzing wet lips pulled from your neck to give bedroom eyes to Suguru.

Who returns the look, just as gluttonous for another go. "The face you made proves you enjoyed it just as much~"

Their raunchy talk was halted as a pillow got whacked in Suguru's face, followed by said pillow being thrown to Satoru's, who barely caught it in one hand. But that enough commotion lets you slip free from his loosened grasp.

Though the truth was he let you go free for now, laughing slowly at the look of sheer disbelief on his raven haired lover's face at what you just pulled, the more bangs loosely gracing his forehead from the commotion.

"Ooh, you're in trouble~!" Gojo singing spoke of doom.

Your panting, pink cheeked self could only have a moment's reprieve as chills raked your skin at the dark edge tainting Suguru's almond eyes. Unlike the smile in your nightmares, bearing callousness and insanity, Suguru's bore a more eerily calm smiling face.

"Indeed … it's on."

He dodged the kick to his face by your freed foot, toothily smiling as he caught your ankle, viewed your squirming foot with scrutinizing intrigue, before dragging his finger up and down your sole lightly enough to have you become a cute chortling mess.

Your other foot moved to kick his arm to free yourself when Gojo snatched it straight away, clicking his tongue to scold you. "Naughty, naughty~"

The two looming devils you love jumped you!

Shoko Ieiri, twirling her non lite cigarette between her fingers, jumped at the ear-piercing scream striking the air of the dorm, high tailing to the source as curiosity beckoned her.

Discovering the loud slamming ruckus jumbled in as well, it all is coming from your room followed by your jumbled cackling wordplay in the mix had her sliding the door open, her cigarette nearly slipping from her grasp at the sight she just witnessed.

You were flipped to lay on your stomach, laughing your sweaty red face off, as both those bastards each straddled a thigh of yours, with a footsie for each to tickle savagely.

"And this is why I stopped questioning why this is your norm now." Shoko shrugged.

"She whacked us with her pillow!" Suguru gruffly complained as his fingers wringed through your toes.

"Hilarious move on her part but she did wound my pride." Satoru's mirthful grin then drooped as his pride did deflate. "So, retribution!" Killing your restraint as he nibbled on your padded piggies.

"SHOHOHOHOHOHOHOKO~!!! MAHAHAHAHAHAKE THEHEHEHEHEHEM STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP~!!!"

Your flailing calves nearly whacking them were immediately taken care of as their forearms wrapped around them to hold them in place, their hands squeezing your ankles in their ironclad grip. Suguru nibbled and dragged his teeth and tongue down your wrinkled sole while Satoru's lips and tongue suckled and wriggled between your toes.

"PLEHEHEHEHEHESE HAHAHAHAHAHAVE MEHEHEHEHEHERCY~!!!"

"Yeah, as the resident healer of our group, I see the telltale signs she's gonna pass out at this rate." Shoko nearly toppled over you as your hands needed some support to dig and squeeze your fingers in something to keep your unhinged self-grounded.

Suguru hummed in contemplation. "Hmmm … while seeing and hearing our love in this state does please me greatly, this overall was supposed to cheer her up."

"Your cheering up brand is quite savage indeed." Shoko's apathetic tone made them both stifle a groan; Satoru's vibrating through your foot made you squeal louder, as he finally popped his mouth off your saliva covered minies.

"Alright, alright! We will," Satoru gave a big wet smooch to your topside. "I'd say we're even now."

Suguru kissed your other topside in the same manner, before their arms released your calves, moving off your thighs so they could lay your legs fully down on your rustled sheeted bed.

You breathed in and out your relief as tranquility came at last; giggles from ghost tickles slipping in, releasing your hold on Shoko's arm to fold yours and use them as your personal resting pillow. "Ah … f … freedom … thank you." You were now more exhausted but less depressing. Pro? Perhaps. For now, anyway.

"Y/n." You leaned your head into Satoru's smooth warm hand as he brushed your hair strands sticking to your forehead aside, rubbing your forehead before brushing your hair back in gentle motions, as he flopped down on his stomach on your right side, resting his cheek on his free forearm, the vibrant Six Eyes looking at you over his lowered shades, straightforward truth teeming in them. "In this life, you can't save everyone."

You frowned at that, blunt and to the point, when Suguru also flopped down the same way on your left side, his giant firm hand rubbing massaging circles on your back, surging with tender care, bringing blessed sighs out of you, as his eyes met yours next, teemed with solace. "Nor will the fear of the unknown go away just like that."

"We can't promise that nothing will happen to all of us later on down the line, either." Satoru's distaste for it showed.

"But we can promise that when they do, come what may, we'll give it our all." Suguru's empathy shined through in his beautiful almond eyes.

"We have to in order to be the strongest duo, after all." Satoru chuckled as his cheek nuzzled yours.

"Eh? And me?" You pouted.

"Then trio." Suguru pecked your lips just to see that smile of yours blossom.

"Ahem!" Shoko fake coughed, sitting against the front of the bed on the floor, plopping her head back, lips puckered and batting eyes at you all in fake sadness.

"Okay, squad then! Point being! Whatever comes our way, we face it together, as best we can. We are there for each other. None of us should be alone. Right?" Satoru's sincere toothy smile sealed the deal.

You sighed deeply. "Fine … but any more savage tickling cheering up schemes in the future are off the table! I swear to God –!"

"Hai hai." The duo agreed in unison as they each pressed a deep noisy smooch to your cheeks.

"Ehem." Shoko pointed at her own face, wanting smooches too. That brought laughs out of all three of you before you kissed her forehead, and the guys kissed her cheeks.

The downpour had finally ceased, and you fell asleep from the tiring experience that toppled the rest.

"Too precious for this kind of life, she is." Shoko smiled faintly as the guys kept their eyes on yourself, softly breathing, slowly lifting and lowering your slumbering self.

"Suguru? Those dreams of hers …"

"Premonitions, you mean?"

Satoru nodded. "It's been happening for weeks now."

"She could be a cursed Seer of sorts. See the future and all that." Shoko interjected.

"Her cursed energy has been increasing. Her output as well. Still … I say we keep close to her. Keep our guard up." Suguru suggested.

"And if Yaga-sensei sends her out solo tasking again?" Satoru dreaded that possible outcome.

"We should inform him of this. If a possible dire threat does arrive in our future, I'd suggest one of us go with her on missions just in case. We both can handle solo missions just fine."

"Then I call dibs~!"

Suguru's eyes narrowed intensely. "My idea, my dibs."

Satoru flared up. "Eh~?!"

Your groggy stirring mumbles alerted the bois to keep it down, your settling down leaving them puffing out their reliefs.

"Compromise then, Satoru~?"

Said man groaned. "You're lucky you're you."

Suguru chuckled at that before smooching his snowy haired lover over your resting head.

"Your throuple is a cursed miracle in and of itself, alright." Shoko murmured, toying with the cig between her lips.

Your throuple life story.

Cursed miracle indeed.

[lady-phasma]

18+ MDNI

Targaryen bloodline ask ✧︎ His general appeal ✧︎ Short Alys ask ✧︎ Book Aemond ✧︎ Really long ask about PTSD ✧︎ His sexuality (written Jan 2023) ✧︎ Ticklish headcanon ask ✧︎ Tie-in ask about c*ckwarming fic

Anon ask about his depiction in the series as "grey" character

Breeding k!nk ✧︎ Sex scenes opinion ask ✧︎ His biggest fears

His love interests ask ✧︎ Episode 4 ask - did he spare Rhaenyra?

Another Ep 4 ask ✧︎ Random hair ask ✧︎ Short hair ask ✧︎ And another

Ridiculous boredom ask ✧︎ Age ask ✧︎ Rhea Royce ask

Season 2 ask ✧︎ Dettles ask ✧︎ Petty Daemon ✧︎ Age ask (very short) ✧︎ Anons are interesting ✧︎ The same anon ✧︎ They chilled out a little but it still makes me laugh ✧︎ What is not to like? ask

Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Helaena after the cut

Copy of other characters ask ✧︎ Stages of Love ask ✧︎ I need you Uncle ask ✧︎ Would she have been happier with Harwin ask ✧︎ General marriage ask

Aromantic ask ✧︎ General opinion ask

Marriage to Jace ask ✧︎ Aemond's view of her "seer abilities" ask

I love it when anons want to learn! House Velaryon dragon ask

Bonus: Contextual Formalism as Film Theory

obviously I really like asks

Main masterlist

[bluebladefluff]

Chaos theory spoilers!!! You have been warned!

TW // Swearing

I just finished Jurassic park chaos theory! And I have SO MUCH to say! So many parts made my jaw drop to the floor! Even though kenji’s father was an ass hat he didn’t need to die! But the way he protected his son that gave him points back!

Now at the end! That crazy raptor lady didn’t due, how did she not die? She got hit by a truck! I swear she is a doll, a creepy porsolin doll

BROOKLYNS NOT DEAD! That bitch faked her death but lost an arm??! and I hate it AND love it at the same time! Dose she even care about the others at this point?! Why was she buying dinosaurs?! What is her motive, is she working with that Nublar guy! Or with Kenji’s father before he died? It’s crazy to think about whatever she is trying to do, why?! I didn’t see anything sketchy about Brooklyn in camp Jurassic but mabye I wasn’t looking hard enough?? I was on my seer the whole time and I GENUINELY thought she was dead but SHE IS NOT!!

Also Ben is ticklish? I absolutely love him so much, bed had a grospert and is such a sweet boy, is he faking about his girlfriend or is he serious?

Thank you for listening to my rant/Ted Talk

[mahvaladara]

A curious fact about Neer is that he doesn't like to be touched. He especially doesn't like to be touched without notice.

He is extremely ticklish and sensitive to touch.

His brother, Seer, used to say it was just him being a stuck up prissy noble elf. Some say is him just being posh or vain.

His sensitivity doesn't result from trauma though he was more neglected on the emotional side of things. Neer was the eldest of a nobble house and raised to fit the part. His younger brother, Seer was only an year younger, very rare among elfs to be born so close in between. So Seer was the baby boy, while Neer was the heir. Neer had to be inteligent, well-spoken, charismatic, well-read, skilled and prophicient in many aspects to fit the role as future head of House C'Silla. Seer was the baby boy who didn't particularly need to amass to anything other than be spoiled.

As children Neer had only been literally hugged by his own brother and he hated it. And because Seer realized Neer wasn't used to being touched and always reacted by being ticklish, Seer made his life mission to bully Neer with that, which only made it worse.

Curiously, Neer grew to be very level-headed on the emotional front of things, and Seer very emotionally immature. As when Neer grew older, the attention shifted almost completely to Neer.

As adults, this actually because worse, as Seer always took a chance Neer was distracted with something too poke his sides or pass a finger down his back, which would cause Neer to react with aversion.

With Vecenia he did eventually get used to having her touch him, but she had found it absolutely endearing that he was ticklish and so sensitive to her touch, especially on his back.

[biographydivider]

Baby-talkin’ Madrigals!

A lil’ something for @sketchnwhatevr, in honour of that adorable art of Agustin and baby Isabela that she blessed us with.

“C’mon, Isa...just a little more food, then we’re all done. Do it for Papi, okay?”

Agustín sat cross-legged on the floor in front of his baby daughter, holding a bowl full of sweet-smelling, fruity mush. Isabela leaned forward, eyes fixed on her Papi’s expression. Agustín scooped up a spoonful of baby food and reached out to his daughter, making what his wife was now calling his ‘yum-yum face’. Wide-eyed, tongue often sticking out. Slightly vacant, focused only on the culinery explosion in the bowl in front of him.

“Yeaaah, oh it’s soooo taaasstyy, right? Yummy yuum, Isabela’s faaaavourite. Nyaaam nyaam nyaaaaamm, awww that’s my best girl, Isabela loves her food doesn’t she? Yuuum yuuuumm...”

“Y’doing the thing again.”

“You,” Agustín said, as his cuñado walked past to raid the pantry for snacks, “do not understand the delicate science of the yum-yum face.”

“It’s weird, Gus,” Bruno said, standing on his tiptoes to reach into a cabinet above his head.

“You’ll understand when you have your own kids.” Agustín wiped a smear of baby food from Isabela’s cheek. She giggled, and he prodded her gently in the belly so she’d laugh even harder. “Won’t he, Issie? Yesh he will, yesh he wiiiiiill...”

“...uh-huh. Hey, did Juli make some arequipe the other day? Coulda sworn there were some left...”

“Oohhhh I dunnooooo, Tiiiio Bruuuunooo,” Agustín cooed, readying another spoonful. “I’m a little busyyyyy hereee...”

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m an adult. A respected member of the community.”

“Now that’s a liiiiieee, Tiio Bruuuunooo...”

“Heh. Y’right.” Bruno gave up his search and wandered away, nudging Agustín in the ribs with a sandaled toe as he passed. “Still. S’weird.”

...

“C’mon, Maria. Just a little, eentsy, teensy bit more, okay?”

The very pregnant rat stirred slightly in her nest, looking up at Bruno with a deadpan, long-suffering expression. If rats could swear, he thought to himself wrly, before jiggling the peice of corn in front of her nose again.

“Y’gotta eat for your babies’ sake, y’know? I know you’re sore, but y’can’t just lie here and feel sorry for...”

Maria nipped at his finger crossly, making him drop the corn with a yelp. “Lil’ brat,” he growled under his breath, nursing his finger. “Okay, fine. No more corn. But maybe you’d like to...aha!”

Bruno lunged across the room and snatched up a plate; he’d managed to squirrel an arepa or two up to his room, protesting to the family that he had some ‘very important seer business to attend to’ - when, in reality, he just wanted to spend a little bit of the day alone, in the quiet. Saying as much wasn’t exactly an acceptable reason to cloister yourself away, he’d found; especially now the babies were here. Plus, Maria needed him. She hadn’t eaten in a day or two, and he was starting to worry.

Now, he never usually fed his rats people food. It led to bad habits, and he could get his hands on healthy stuff for them easy enough. But today, he’d make an exception.

“Here we gooo,” Bruno crooned, snapping off a peice about the size of his thumbnail. “Arepa con queso, just for the Mami-to-be...”

Maria blinked up at him, snuffling his fingers with her ticklish nose. Then, she took a bite. Bruno’s insides suddenly felt like they were made of fireworks.

“Ohhh whatta good girl,” he sang, watching her take the arepa between her tiny hands and nibble away, “yeeaah, bet that’s real tasty, huh?”

Maria looked up at him, licking her tiny chops, and Bruno felt his smile grow wider, his voice hitch an octave higher. “Y’such a gooood giiiirl, good girl Marriiaa, yeaaaah, soooo tastyyyy, yumm yuuummm...”

“I knew it.”

Bruno whirled. There was Agustín; standing in his doorway, pointing a finger in his direction, face a mask of shock.

“What?” Bruno said. “What’d I --” He clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. No. He hadn’t been. Surely not. Agustín shook his finger at Bruno, an accusing spectre in the doorway.

“You were doing the yum-yum face.”

“I was not!”

But Gus was already gone; haring it down the stairs that led from Bruno’s room. “JULIETA!”

Somewhere far away in the house, Bruno heard his sister groan. “Agustín, you’ll wake the babies.”

“He does do it to the rats! You owe me one week of bottle feeds!”

“He does?! Ay, Brunito...”

[bluedragonbooks]

Adjacent 10 of 25

Over the last 6 weeks, Elric often strode ahead while the Wizard and I followed at a more measured pace; we usually caught up to him when he paused to murder a bush or assault a haystack.

Once Gerry joined us, it seemed to spur Elric on and vice versa; we spent the day with them racing ahead, only to find them sparring with sticks or doing push-ups or whatever a few minutes later.

At one point the Wizard had watched them thru his lenses for a while. "Whatever enchantment you used on him has left; be assured - whatever he feels for you is genuine; be gentle with him - you're his first love, am I correct?"

"Yes, I still feel guilty for bewitching him."

"He was eager enough; all you did was ease his shyness; I'm sure that had time and urgency not forced your hand the outcome would be the same. The next town is two days away; I have friend I wish to visit - a seer; We'll be stopping for at least two days; My friend is younger and will have desires I am unable to satisfy, so Elric will no doubt be invited to her room. I'll arrange for you and Gerry to share a room; a bit of privacy and the lack of other agendas should help clarify the matter."

Oh goody, looking forward to that; nothing like being expected to perform under the watchful eye of an elderly matchmaker ... Fuck.

...

Elric's blunter version was delivered as we made camp that night and got ready for dinner; he took me aside and said, "He wants you to fuck him; but he's too shy to ask; He's done you, now it's your turn to do him."

For a moment I wondered if Elric had only pretended to be asleep back at the guardhouse; but I knew that snore. Maybe Gerry had told him. "Did he actually say that?"

"No, but he looks at your dick every chance he gets; when a girl looks at me like that, I know she's wet for it. Besides, I could always tell when the blacksmiths boy had paid a visit and put it in you, you’d get this dreamy look and sigh a lot."

"You was sighing plenty the next day, and you had that big stupid grin, despite all the trouble we was in; so I'm guessing he's got a biggun and he gave it to you good." My face flushed red hot.

"Ha, thought so, I got you a good one, you're blushing like a virgin."

Dammit!

...

"Ooh, Stop, STOP - It tickles too much" Gerry giggled and squirmed.

I'd been exploring his naked body with my tongue; turns out he was insanely ticklish.

"How about here?" I lowered my mouth and sucked. The reaction was immediate and productive.

"Oh GOD ... Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it in your mouth; you surprised me ... no-one’s ever ..."

"It's ok, I don't mind; I like it; It's not like I didn't want it."

"But doesn't it taste ... yucky?"

"You mean you've never tasted your own - off your hand?"

"No"

"Wow, you really are an innocent; you want to suck mine?"

"Um, ok, I suppose, just give me warning when you ... you know."

"Probably better if I don't."

...

"You done him yet?" asked Elric at breakfast. "Didn't sound like it."

There's no point being subtle with Elric, I knew he'd just keep asking.

"Waiting for the next town. A bath and a proper bed."

"Ooh fancy; fair enough tho; you getting him some flowers and a stinky candle too? He'll probably like that."

"Piss off Elric." He laughed and punched me lightly in the arm.

...

Turns out he’s not only insanely ticklish, but insanely noisy. I got the giggles and nearly couldn’t finish.

After I finished fucking him, and we'd got our breath back he said, “do you think anyone heard?”

The walls of the seer’s house were only lath and daub; “The whole fucking street heard” said Elric from the other side of the wall.

...

Breakfast was surreal; the Seer was dreamy-eyed and sighed a lot; Elric grinned like fool, alternating between winking at me and nudging Gerry; who flushed a bright pink while staring intently at his porridge as if divining some great portent.

Instead of the usual thin gruel, the table was graced with a hearty porridge, bread and oil to dip it in, slices of cheese, fruit, and even a smoked fish. The Wizard appeared inordinately pleased with himself.

I glared at him and mentally dared him to say anything.

“A hearty breakfast for the road ahead; just what growing lads need after a good nights sleep.”

I almost stabbed him with my spoon.

...

So far Elric's "Quest" had "accomplished" exactly three kills in seven weeks.

An enchanted boar so fixated on it' task the poor beast had worn a path around it's Lords forest;

An aging Wyvern that took a lamb and probably would have died of exertion or choked to death on lamb’s wool if Elric hadn't put it out of its misery; and

A small kitten sized beasty I couldn't identify, driven mad with lust for Elric's boot when we stopped for lunch.

"When will we get to the good stuff" whined Elric to the Wizard, while wiping green beasty goo off his sword and onto a patch of grass.

"Patience young Champion, we have 4 months yet to get to the Western Sea; as long as we get there before the Winter Solstice, there's plenty of time for adventures yet."

I groaned inwardly. We'd set out at Summer Solstice, and we wouldn't get there until the Winter Solstice? Which meant we likely wouldn't get home until the next Summer Solstice?

This damn Quest better be worth it or I'd be boiling the old bird down for his tallow. I wonder what price genuine Wizard Tallow fetched on the Apothecary market.

Not that you'd probably get much out of him; he was old and stringy and didn't seem to have much fat on him; and he was ancient; I mean he must have been at least 50 years old.

Have I mentioned his knees? Most villages are a days travel apart for a merchant with 2 horses and a well-stocked wagon.

Why? Because Merchants don't want to be camping on the side of a road overnight with a well-stocked wagon; you have to pay a night-guard.

Most people can keep up with a well-stocked wagon and 2 horses even on foot; especially if you've had 7 weeks to get used to it.

Elderly Wizards with dodgy knees apparently take 2 days to cover the same distance; well, 2 6-hour days if you don't mind starting late and don't include stopping for a leisurely lunch in the heat of the day.

Mind you, it meant we arrived early enough on the second day to have our pick of lodgings, and it gave me a chance to barter and reprovision.

About every third village seemed to be a trading hub, which usually meant it had a Wizards Guild, which meant we could get a proper bed and usually stayed an extra night.

Neither Gerry nor I minded that; better than fucking on cold hard ground.

Gerry had got over his initial boisterousness, which meant we could take turns enjoying each other without making a laughingstock of ourselves.

Tho, he still tended to blush madly if I'd fucked him the night before, and Elric even glanced at him at breakfast.

[angelatmidnight1]

Seer Tickle Headcanons

A/N: I've been on a Seer high lately and made some self-indulgent headcanons for him. 🙈Hope you like them!

Lee-

Most people assume that Obi isn’t ticklish. Sudden pokes and squeezes don’t get much of a reaction out of him and, if someone’s trying to sneak up on him, chances are he already hears their heartbeat. 

Sometimes, he jokingly claims that those squeezes feel nice, and will pretend to fall asleep to vex his ler. 

But gentle tickles? Those will awaken his ticklish nerves that he often forgets he has. 

Overall, he’s not terribly ticklish, but he does have those spots that turn his deep chuckles into heavy laughter. Those spots are his underarms, ribs, and the back of his knees.  

His chuckles, and even his heavier laughter, are both warm and soothing on the ears. He doesn’t really mind being tickled compared to some of the other Legends, so long as he isn’t pinned down. 

Obi isn’t an easy lee to get down; he is extremely nimble. So, if someone actually manages to pin him, his laughter becomes 10x more frantic and he tries to escape. Not being able to move away from a soft, maddeningly ticklish touch drives him crazy.

Words mean a lot to him, so if his ler is teasing him or pointing out his sensitivity, it can get to him if he’s frantic enough. Most of the time though, he will try to keep his composure while he’s laughing. 

Slow tickles also get to him more than faster ones. If his ler takes their time to squeeze each rib, or work their fingers into his hollows, his laughter deepens even more.

Tickling him while he’s drawing is a fun spectacle to watch; most of the time, he tries to ignore his ler and focus on what he’s doing. But when the tickles become too distracting, he’ll reach behind him with one hand and politely ask them to quit it. “B-Bihiko, I am wohohorking..”

His palms are ticklish too, but it isn’t unbearable. Sometimes he finds light scribbles along them soothing, especially after a long day of creating art. 

Tickling isn’t something Obi totally minds because laughter’s beneficial to the soul. Sometimes, he feels more inspired after a tickle session. But, this is more true for more casual, playful tickling and less so for tickle attacks.

When he isn’t pinned down, his initial chuckles come out as short and breathy. He tries not to accidentally hurt his ler while he squirms.  He will also push away the ler’s hands, sometimes holding them at bay for an extended period of time. 

If his ler asks him to let go of their hands, Seer says something along the lines of, “If I release your hands, you must assure me that you are not going to tickle me again.” He can tell when someone is being truthful or not; the heart beats differently after a lie told.

 So, if he does release his lers’ hands with the expectation that they’re gonna pounce again, he’s quick to keep their wiggling fingers just out of reach. He’ll keep this up until the ler’s too tired to continue.

On rare occasions, his heart chamber glows blue after being tickled. 

Ler

Obi is a gentle and reserved ler. He only really tickles those he’s familiar and/or close to. 

Unless the situation calls for it, or his lee is just really sensitive, he’s fond of tickles that lead to giggling and light squirming, instead of full on cackles and screams. 

He does not pin his lees down. He enjoys watching them squirm and try to cover up their tickle spots. If they cover one spot, he prods at another. It’s amusing for him to watch his lee twist into positions that shouldn’t be anatomically possible. 

Obi, finding the beauty in everything, is definitely the type of ler who compliment his lee’s laughter. He enjoys exploring the range of sounds they make as he skitters his fingers from one spot to the other. 

When he finds an especially ticklish spot, he uses both hands to slowly knead over it. “You make wondrous sounds when tickled here,” he’d note. He’d pause when his lee’s squirming gets more intense, then starts again. “Let us see if we can recreate it…ah, yes, there it is. Such beautiful tonality.”

Obi’s intention is not to fluster his lees; he means everything he says. Even still, he’s had lees who blush at his words.

His tickling style has a similar feeling to having a butterfly land on you; it’s soft and fleeting, but still really ticklish. He uses his fingers and/or his decorative claws to stroke along his lees’ torso, similar to how he uses his paintbrushes, and gives extra ticklish regions more attention. He doesn’t stay there long; after a belly laugh or two, Obi returns to his feather soft stroking.

Speaking of paintbrushes, Obi’s found that his artistic tools can even produce ticklish effects. He’s usually the main one responsible for helping Legends with their face paint and/or body art. He’s partial to paintbrushes and markers, and he finds that each tool alters the laughter’s pitch. 

A swipe of a paintbrush usually causes light squeaks and giggles. His markers, though, bring on laughter, especially when he does shading. 

Now that he’s on friendlier terms with Octane, he sometimes offers to draw a new design on him. 

Obi’s a patient person, but after trying to draw something on him, he now holds onto where he’s drawing if the person he’s drawing on is ticklish and squirmy. He’s nothing if not a perfectionist when it comes to art!

Seer is also the king of anticipatory tickles. He takes his time when he tickles someone, and enjoys hearing their heart rate change as he hovers over a ticklish area. 

He’s also good at painting a verbal picture for his lee; “Now, where shall we begin, my friend? Shall we start at your ribs and work our way down? Or perhaps an approach from the center works best?”

Seer is one of the few Legends who will tickle someone if they ask for it. They’d get no judgment. “If that is what your heart desires, I am happy to oblige.”

[queenendless]

☯️My Senpai (Student!SatoSugu x Student!Reader ft Student!Ieiri Shoko)☯️

A/n: The canonical prequel of Ticklish Remedy aka the Cursed Seer AU!

You the late transfer, getting along with your fellow first years, while also being dote on by your senpais.

There is an allude to an ongoing mystery with you in this AU that is kinda obvious, crack kinda nonsense from everyone here, mentions of ShokoHime, and SatoSugu be kinda chaotic in this, I did the best I could to make it short but sweet!

PLEASE DONT PLAGIARIZE, STEAL, REPOST, COPY AND/OR TRANSLATE MY FANFIC CONTENT. Reblog, like, and follow instead please and thank you.

You're a walking mystery.

No family.

No home.

Just a wandering soul that was discovered passed out by the entrance, collapsed before the first torii gate.

Sensing the shift in balance as an abnormal source appeared out of the blue right at the doorstop, Gojo was the first to find you, followed closely behind by Geto.

Your eyes were closed, lost in subconsciousness.

But in your mind's eye, you could visualize everything transpiring. You could hear them clear as day. Gojo's curly lips as he held you in his arms, brushing your hair aside to see your face more.

“Like a little kitten~ Kawaii~”

“Less flirting, you. Best to take her to Shoko.” Geto murmured as he took you in his arms to carry you all bride-like.

“You're blushing though~” Gojo snickered.

“Shut it.” Geto's kick was halted by Infinity.

“You likey, me likey~” Gojo sang as they started climbing those stone steps.

Those two nosey felines peaked in as you awoke a while later after Shoko's healing did the trick, a cig between her quirked lips.

“Cutie pie.” Patting you on the head, she gave you a lollipop. “For being a good patient.”

“Hey! I want some!” Gojo barged in loud enough to startle you in bed, grabbing some right out of the opened bag nestled in the desk chair. “I get sweets on top on seeing this sweetie up and about for real!”

“Good to see you awake, um …” Geto's awkward trail off as he rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing your name.

“Y/n L/n.”

Those three had big sparkling eyes of wonderment the moment you replied. Even your name sounded wonderful to them.

Like, your very presence was swaying them all.

“Ieiri Shoko.” She saluted.

“Suguru Geto.” He bowed a bit.

“Satoru Gojo.” He winked.

Blushing up at their greetings gave an extra kick for you to feel energized.

Enough to change into one of Shoko's spare tees, sweatpants, and sandals before the trio brought you before Yaga-sensei who met you inside a shrine of the school, introducing yourself to the newfound principal.

After affirming your backstory and situation thus far, you were put on the spot and tested for your chance to stay, facing off against one of his cursed corpse dolls. A giant bear with boxing gloves.

Your eyes burned and gleamed bright as moving pictures appeared in your mind.

As they zipped up to you, you felt something click within.

In that next moment, your feet moved on their own.

Your desire to move had you zipping in blurry speed all over, exhilaration racing through your veins.

Kicking the bear right into the wall, leaving cracks in its dent sized hole.

Shoko snapped a pic whereas the guys both whistled lowly.

It all went by in a snap.

“Not bad. For a sapling. However!” He pried his wiggling bruised doll from the wall, cradling and patting the whimpering little thing. “Everyone has their reason for becoming a sorcerer. What is yours?”

“I have nowhere else to go … no one else to turn to.” That was all you could rely on because your recollection on how you teleported here was still foggy but there was nothing else to do but move forward and hope the truth comes to light in time.

“If this is my gift … my innate talent … my newfound purpose then … is to take advantage of it to the fullest. And if saving lives can come with that, then fine. As long as I have food, a roof over my head, and get paid for it, that is.”

Yaga-sensei turned to the second years who looked anywhere but him, whistling, at the mention of getting paid. “Very well.” Yaga bowed to you. “Welcome to Jujutsu High.”

You bowed in return when the clapping and congratulations from your new senpais had your face tinted like a flustered rose.

☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️☯️

“Suguru?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that not the cutest thing you've ever seen?” Sitting against the vending machine, Gojo's blue raspberry lips curled up, directed at you as you chatted with your fellow first years.

“She has a name, ya know.” Geto's pineapple tinted lips pursed.

“And our precious kouhai to boot~!”

“Staring at her so much will only unsettle her.”

“Slowly growing curse energy level. Innate technique still developing. Almost as if she's just become a cursed newborn –”

“Terrible word choice.”

“These eyes can fully read her … but it still feels like she's hiding something.”

“Everyone’s entitled to have secrets.”

Only a week has gone by and already you were part of the IT crowd.

Clad in your new uniform, you had walked out of the combini with Nanami on one side and Haibara on the other, plastic bags of popsicles in hand as your senpais tasked you three with buying them, passing them out as you plopped a (favorite flavor) popsicle in your mouth.

Haibara got chummy with you, chattering about anything right away with his coconut soaked lips madly while Nanami commented here and there with those lemon lips but looking at ease with you two there.

Gojo chuckled, dumping his popsicle and wrapper into the nearby trash can. “How interesting~ This'll be fun~”

Despite barely meeting the qualifications of becoming a sorcerer, you gave off such a comforting assuring presence.

Everyone flocked to you. The curious, genuine soul amiss the cursed chaos that is this kind of life. Among this crew. A rare special enigma …

“L/n-chan~ Walk with me~ Talk with me~Adore me~!” Gojo appeared before you, floating right there, embracing you in a squeeze.

Burning face aside, the word slipped out before you could process it.

“No.”

Haibara's gasp, Nanami coughing out a snort in his fist, Shoko's kiwi glossed smirk, and Geto's surprised but amused face were all a pale contrast to Gojo's guffawed face as he shook you, oblivious to how your insides fluttered so damn much from his actions.

“Huh!? Why not!? I'm your senpai! The strongest one there is! You have to do what I say!”

“You and Geto-senpai are the strongest together, you hurtful baka.” You reminded the prime fact that has been etched in your mind and soul.

Geto's pink dusted cheeks made him that much more dashing in your eyes as he pulled you out of Gojo's arms. “Thank you, L/n-chan.” He then smacked Gojo upside the head. “Baka.”

“Suguru, I didn't mean that! Forgive me!’ The albino shredded waterfalls, embracing the stewing teen who easily broke free from the lanky grip.

You hurried over to hide behind Geto's bulky frame, peaking out at Gojo before blinking up at Geto with those anticipated e/c eyes earning an enriching laugh from him. “Yosh yosh~” Geto patted your head to your bashful self. “Forgive him. He's still learning the mundane ways of decency.”

Haibara and Gojo gasped dramatically in unison, Nanami looked cross eyed at the escalating nonsense, and Shoko took another popsicle in.

“You're just as bad as me, ya know.” Gojo poked him insistently in the cheek.

“Satoru, your prideful obnoxiousness isn't gonna win her over.” Geto lightly smacked his hand aside.

“It won you over, didn't it~?”

Gojo's sly smirk and Geto's flaming face had Haibara raspily squealing, Nanami covering his mouth to stop that noise, Shoko giving a bland whoop call and you this close to getting a nosebleed.

“Come on, Suguru~ Flex them muscles and brains for our sweet kouhai if you're so confident like you do for me~” Gojo flirted.

“We shouldn't overwhelm her right off the bat you idiot!” Geto hissed.

“What is happening?” Nanami was mortified.

“Our senpai are so brazen … it's inspiring!” Haibara was starry-eyed, seeing nothing wrong.

“The moronic couple have broken their own world record.” Shoko hummed as she was recording with her phone to show Utahime later.

Blue and almond clashed when a supple soft form appeared between the two, taking each of their hands in your own, tugging on them just to get them to hold hands themselves. “Don't fight because of me. Please.”

Arrows pierced the pair's hearts; red dusting from cheeks to their ears, with light in their eyes at the supportive small softie that is you.

“Kawaii~” Gojo hummed.

“Angelic~” Geto breathed out, stunned.

“Stubborn but reasonable … I like you.” Shoko laughed a bit; her popsicle stuck in between her lips instead, pulling you out from between them, hugging you from behind. “Maybe I'll keep you for me and Utahime-senpai to share.”

. . .

“Eh?”

Moving pictures flashed in your mind for a moment.

Holding their hands.

Being carried away in their arms.

Laugher ringing out through the bright scene.

They came in so quick.

They were gone the next.

“Eto?” Your dot eyes blinked dubiously.

“We call dibs on her, Shoko! Right Suguru!?”

“Wha – ?”

“Damn it, fine.”

You yelped as they each took an arm of yours and easily pulled you out of Shoko's hold, using their arms to carry you in their own makeshift arm throne, running fast enough to leave dust in their wake.

“Suck it Shoko!” Gojo hollered over his shoulder.

“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested! Sorry Shoko!” Geto yelled back in a jumble.

“Everyone!” Your panicked yell echoed along with their manic laughter as you three blinked out of view.

“GoGe throuple it is. Damn it.” She didn't sound too upset as she sent the recording to her bae before taking the bags you dropped amidst the chaos as she followed their path.

“Our senpai are idiots.” Nanami's head dipped in shame as he followed.

“But bold! I like it!” Oh Haibara, always the optimist.

As the winds blew hard and the sun gleamed for the optimistic future that laid ahead of you, you were suddenly lowered down. Your heart was ready to soar out of your chest.

The vision came true.

But chalking it up as coincidence would be best suited until more came into fruition to confirm their legitimacy.

Perhaps then, using them as a guide would help reveal the missing pieces in the puzzle that is you. How you came to be here. These newfound abilities of yours that were steadily growing as we speak. And your otherworldly charm that lures everyone in. These two especially.

Tilting his shades up to rest on his head, Gojo's eyes twinkled with deviousness as he cheekily giggled. “Y/n~ How lucky you are to have two strong senpai looking after you~”

“While part of me still finds this insane, I suppose being Jujutsu sorcerers in training entitles us to embrace the craziness. Right, Y/n-chan~?” Geto's toothy smirk made you just as nervous as it did anticipating what's to come.

You gave off steam as you hid your burning red face in your hands, earning you breathy laughs from those two as they waved at your fellow schoolmates that were finally catching up to them.

What a way to start things off.

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For [12/?]

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5 / ch 6 / ch 7 / ch 8 / ch 9 / ch 10 / ch 11 [Chapter 12/?]

The three weeks between that and Killian’s fight flew at lightspeed. Between training (together), press conferences (together), and general life (also, together), Emma found herself spending almost every moment with Killian without really knowing what hit her.

He wove himself into her life with an ease she would’ve found scary if she wasn’t so damn happy.

After meeting, Killian and Henry begged to be together daily. It started with short bursts– lunch here, a trip to the park there– and eventually it became week long movie nights with the three of them cuddled up on the couch. Any thought she had of slowing things down was abruptly erased by Henry’s overall excitement just to be with Killian.

The night the two of them fell asleep together in Henry’s bed mid-bedtime story was the proverbial nail in the coffin.

That’s how she finds herself sitting outside the locker room killing time before Killian has to prep for weigh-ins. Henry was already in their seats, Ruby keeping an eye on him while he oogles at the stage being constructed. Emma has been able to mostly ignore the reality of tonight– and tomorrow night– by managing Killian’s social accounts and keeping Regina off her back. (Let’s just say her boss doesn’t know the full extent of their relationship and Emma would like to keep it that way at least until this weekend is over and not just because even she doesn’t know the full extent.)

Emma hears the announcer call for fighters to the locker rooms and it snaps her out of her own thoughts. 

Killian has to go. They– mostly Emma– have been dreading this night since the moment they found out it was Neal. It was only three weeks ago, but somehow everything has changed and it feels like a different lifetime. Killian must have resigned to his fate as well, “Duty calls, love.” He kisses her on the forehead and she leans into the contact. Emma nods but is reluctant to remove her arms from their comfortable spot on his hips. She’s about to wish him luck when he pulls a long silver chain from his pocket. Dangling from the end is a beautiful ring– rubies set with diamonds across a twisted silver band.

Oh shit.

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, wh–”

He rolls his eyes, “Calm down, Swan. I’m not proposing.”

She nods with a tight smile, ignoring the rush of disappointment that floods her mind. It’s barely been a month, she should not be disappointed. He smirks, probably reading her like a book per usual, but continues anyway, “You know I’m good at surviving the octagon, yeah? Well, this ring is why. I’ve had it for many years, it’s the reason I’m alive. The reason I’m here today.”

“Killian–”

“I want you to have it this weekend. Keep a piece of me with you. Tomorrow may be a bloody awful night for me but I can’t imagine the war raging behind those beautiful eyes of yours, love.” He brushes a small piece of hair off the apple of her cheek before placing the ring carefully in her hand. She clutches it tightly before pressing up on her toes to place a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Thank you.”

He smiles, something bright and happy that reaches his eyes but is reserved for her, “Don’t mention it, Swan. I’ve got all the luck I need right here.” He squeezes her waist, eliciting a small giggle as he focuses in on a slight ticklish spot. Killian kisses her temple once more before they finally part.

“Go get him, Jones.” She can’t help the grin that spreads across her face despite the potential danger Killian is walking into.

He turns back to respond, “Aye, love. Tomorrow night, that’s the plan. It’s only weigh-ins, what could go wrong?” With a wink and a smirk he heads into the locker room and Emma notices the ring still clutched tightly in her fist. Taking it gently, Emma places it over her neck, the weight of the ring heavy atop her chest.

It feels like a lifeline.

Emma takes a deep breath before cracking her neck and slipping into her very real position as Killian’s PR manager. Henry is here tonight, so despite her job, she figures she should check on him first– that is if he hasn’t already tried to come find her. As she walks out from behind the stage she bumps into someone solid. Nausea hits her like a freight train as a familiar scent takes over. The hands on her shoulders seer like fire and she looks up only on instinct.

She swears her blood runs cold at the sound of his voice, “Ems?”

Before she can react, another familiar voice cuts through blood rushing in her ears, “Mom?”

Emma can feel the indent of the ring carving itself into the palm of her hand as she realizes what’s about to happen. Maybe lifeline was an understatement? She reached for the ring instinctively as she realized the moment she had hoped would never come was hovering right in front of her.

She closes her eyes and hears Killian’s voice in her head, “ You can do this, Swan.”

Somehow that’s all the push she needs. Turning to Henry, she ignores the close proximity of his father. “Henry! You were supposed to wait by the seats.”

Her eyes never leave her son. “I was going to but Ruby said I could get popcorn and when I heard them call Hook back I figured you’d be coming out soon so I figured I’d wait for you.” He turns to Neal. “Oh my god, you’re The Fire !!!!”

Neal looks like he’s been tased. Emma pleads with him telepathically to ignore the fact that this is his unmistakably his son.

She never was good at telepathy.

“I am! And you must be Henry.” Neal smiles at him and then turns to Emma for confirmation– she nods slightly despite him barely deserving that. Henry’s eyes light up.

“Did Hook tell you about me?! Mom, do you know Neal Cassidy, too?!” Neal’s eyes turn from amusement to confusion before he turns to Emma.

“Hook?” The word sounds like poison as it cuts across the space between him and Emma.

Henry speaks before Emma can form an explanation, “Yeah! Killian is my mom’s client. She helps him run his Twitter and stuff. Does she do that for you too?”

Oh yeah, client, right.  

Neal gives her one more look before turning back to Henry, “Nope, not for me. Your mom and I are just old friends.” Acid. He sounds like he’s spitting acid. Emma has to choke back a scoff.

How did Emma ever fall for this shit?

“Oh, Killian and mom are friends too. He’s over pretty much every night. I think he likes me better though.” Emma can’t stop a smile from breaking out across her face. She grabs Henry and pulls him in for a hug.

“I think you’re right, kid.” Emma’s eyes meet Neal’s and he’s about to speak when a trainer comes up behind him and whisks him away. Something in his gaze tells her that this conversation isn’t over, but he says bye to Henry who waves before completely moving on to the veteran athletes he saw while waiting in the concession lines. Once he’s out of sight Emma takes a moment to focus her breathing— the cool temperature of Killian’s gift against her thumb effectively grounding her.

This ring really is a godsend– or maybe that’s just the man who gave it to her.

. . .

Killian is sitting in the middle of the sparring gym when he hears his moniker called by an unfamiliar voice. Whoever it is sounds angry. It’s weigh-ins so this level of hostility is usually a show for the cameras, but it’s also usually reserved for fighters who actually know each other.

“Killian Jones.” The use of his full name causes Killian to stand, coming face to face with Neal. He’s only seen him in photos and on tape, but he’d recognize him anywhere. Ice fills Killian’s veins before turning to white hot rage. He’s got half a mind to knock him flat on his arse but knows better than to fight outside the ring.

He opts for civility instead, “Ah, you must be Mr. Cassidy.” Killian squares with him, sizing him up. Despite his clearly trained stature, Killian knows Neal is a coward.

No man who gives up a boy like Henry could be anything less.

“Stay away from my son.”

That was not what Killian expected, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Neal is fired up for some reason or another. Killian can’t imagine why, unless– Emma .

Neal must’ve ran into Emma and Henry before coming back. Killian drops the niceties, “ Your son? I believe there’s a hefty packet of legal papers that says quite the opposite, mate.”  

He watches the rage fill up Neal’s face and his arm begin to form a fist. As Killian responds, Neal’s trainer is coming up behind him. “Not here, Cassidy. Save it for the octagon.”

As the trainer pulls Neal away, Killian doesn’t let the wash of relief exit in a sigh, but he feels it all the same. Neal turns to him once more,“We’ll settle this tomorrow, Jones. You don’t get to steal my life.”  He clearly has a compulsory need for having the last word.

Too bad so does Killian.

As Neal approaches the door separating their designated gyms, Killian calls out once more, “It’s not stealing when you give them up in the first place. Finders keepers, mate.” He winks as Neal crosses into the other room, his trainers keeping him pointed in the right direction.

That’s when Robin walks up behind Killian, “What the hell was that about? I thought you two didn’t even know each other.”

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets, Robin. It seems Mr. Cassidy is regretting his choice not to fight.” Killian turns to his best friend and finds only understanding in his eyes.

Robin claps his hand onto Killian’s shoulder, “Kick his ass, Jones.”

Nodding, Killian straps his gloves on. “My plan precisely, boss.”

...

@mariakov81 @kmomof4 @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @teamhook @bawley-bug @let-it-raines ​

[iustine]

Hello :) Since I won’t be able to draw for some time I decided to play around with doll-makers and create my Speaker and Seer from @speakergame​. So here they are Nev Delaney and Gwen Delaney once again XD (I haven’t used any doll-maker for last 6 years, so I really hope they look good).

Oh, and if somebody is wondering then Nev is 5'3 and ½, only slighty shorter than her twin. I headcanon that during childhood she used to be taller than Gwen and Li, but later they outgrew her. She and Gwen also used to dress the same and cause mayhem during school years XD

I wanted to replay Speaker once again before demo updates, but this time I also saved her stats:

Personality:

Aloof: 7%

Cordial: 29%

Impudent: 21%

Bold: 37% /// Reserved: 63%

Skills:

Charm: 17%

Finesse: 0%

Knowledge: 8%

Intuition: 17%

I have mixed feelings about her stats XD. I fear that she will fail a lot of stat checks, but at the same time I played choosing what Nev herself would - And I loved it tremendously. Normally I try to min/max a little, but it takes some fun out of playing.

I should be happy that her skills are spread over 3 stats and not all 4 XD But to be perfecly honest, she is bad at finesse XD So 0 suits her a lot. 

And there is no way that she won’t go drawing with Gwen, Li and Aubrey at the end of chapter 1 (I know I can go intuition way and hope for the best, but drawing with her favourite people calls to her).

She and Li were best friends during childhood and I like to think she actually used to draw with little Aubrey in the past. (Gwen also can draw nicely, but she isn’t so much into it, so she has less practice. Nev would also urge Li to draw with them, but I am still not sure how weak for her puppy eyes is he XD).

I also have a headcanon that she abhors coffee XD I believe that Liam scarred her for life with his XD She got even since while being near her he must be constantly vigilant for tickle attacks (she is not very ticklish, she will laugh only because she will have fun). Now when I think about it I wonder which one of them started it and which one got even XD

I like to think that Nev drank coffee Li gave her during the Witch route while looking at him with narrowed eyes, accepting the challenge.

When it comes to the RO it will probably be Liam, but I am still thinking about going the friendship route instead. (I can’t decide if I prefer them flirting or teasing and joking together XD) She didn’t have crush on Li, but she is able to think about starting a romantic relationship with him, only because of their close friendship in the past (so it can be equivalent in some roundabout way XD)

And here is Gwen :) I am actually very happy with her look. I gave her camera, because I headcanon photography as her hobby to Nev’s drawing. 

I love thinking that twins often go together on “forest outings” to just spend some time together in tranquility. Gwen walks around with doggie taking photos of landscape, while Nev sits comfortably sketching the surroundings. I also enjoy the thought that Nev smetimes uses Gwen’s photos as models for her sketches. I hope they will start taking Az with them at some point :)

Oh and I have a song that I really like that reminds me about the sisters. It’s “King and Lionheart” by Of Monsters and Men. I like to think that they are interchangeably each other’s king and lionheart depending on the situation.

I will end it here, because if I wanted to write all my headcanons about them it would take me hours XD I really love them and can’t wait for next part of this great story.

[audikatia]

The Raven Cycle AU where everything is the same except one tiny detail about each character: 1/6 AU where instead of a kiss, Blue’s high five kills her true love.

If Blue was to high five her true love, he would die.

—

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve, Blue. Either you’re his true love,” Neeve said, “or you high fived him.”

—

A moment passed, both of them motionless. She needed to tell him that he couldn’t high five her — just in case he was her true love — but how could she? How could she tell a boy that before she even knew if he wanted to high five her at all?

—

Noah leaned toward her. Blue felt a thrill for a half a second. No, more like a quarter second. Because after that she felt the too-firm press of his clammy hand. His palm mashed her hand until her wrist bent back. The entire thing was at once slimy and ticklish and hilarious.

—

“I wish you could be high fived, Jane,” he said. “Because I would beg just one off you. Under all this.” He flailed an arm toward the stars. “And then we’d never say anything about it again.”

—

He whispered, “It’ll be OK. I’m ready. Blue, high five me.”

[tickle-bugs]

Search and Pester

Summary: Diego’s knives are stolen and he is determined to get them back by any means necessary, including wrecking his brother. Sequel to Rise of the Stache.

Anon: prompt; five steals Diego’s knives and hides them somewhere. queue Diego on a hunt to discover who it was and when it’s fives turn to be interrogated he feigns innocence perfectly. He gets a pat down by his brother (he used to be a cop you know) and in between involuntarily gets squirmy cos it tickles (and trys to hide it). Diego figures out soon enough it’s because he’s ticklish and chaos ensues!! (And With that being his punishment for stealing 😉)

On any given day, it was likely that Diego was angry about something, but this was a new level of rage. To be fair, he was at the end of his rope.

The last two weeks had been hell. 

Klaus was still on his pranking spree, completely unsatisfied with just one victim. After tormenting Five, he decided to focus on Diego, messing with him in very specific and unbearable ways. Klaus tied together the laces on each pair of Diego’s shoes, both in the mansion and his apartment, making it impossible to walk without face-planting for days. He filled a mayo jar with vanilla pudding and ate out of it, knowing full well how much Diego hated mayonnaise and would rather walk on hot coals than be in the same room with it.

Worst of all, in between the personal attacks, the general ones still remained. Buckets of water found their way to the top of every half-opened door. Every time Diego dismantled a tripwire Nerf gun trap, another one appeared in a more inconvenient spot. Klaus put googly eyes on everything—socks, doorknobs, mirrors, hairbrushes. That one got a chuckle out of Diego, though he’d never admit it.

But Klaus finally went too far when one morning Diego found his harness empty. All of his knives were gone.

He stormed around the house, lifting furniture, rooting through drawers, and leaving total destruction in his wake. When a two hour search brought him nothing, he hunted down his suspect.

“Where are they?” He threw open the door and narrowed his eyes. 

“Diego, hey! Good to see you! Do you think you could knock next time? That would be grand.” Klaus had evidently just showered because his hair was still wrapped in a towel and his bare feet were propped up on a pillow as he flipped through a magazine.

“Cut the shit, Klaus,” Diego hissed, stomping over to the bed. He kicked Klaus’s magazine stack over on accident and the seer gasped.

“That was mean.” Klaus pouted and Ben chuckled, leaning forward from his seat on the floor. This should be good. 

“You have one second to tell me where my knives are.”

“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean. I wish I did though.  Did you know that your face turns a lovely shade of red when you’re angry-“ Klaus was cut off by his own squawk when Diego yanked him forward by the ankle. His eyes blew wide.

“Wait, don’t–“ 

Diego wasted no time going to town on the captive foot, digging into the sole in a way that made Klaus scream. He accidentally kicked Diego with his free leg and soon both feet were in an arm lock.

“Last chance. Where are they?” Diego didn’t stop tickling while he asked, which really didn’t help Klaus’s concentration. 

“I really dohon’t know—stohop ihit!”

“Wrong answer.” Diego scratched at the base of Klaus’s toes, occasionally scribbling over the balls of his feet. Klaus thrashed, desperate laughter pouring from him in waves as he tried to pull his feet from Diego’s clutches.

Every escape attempt earned him wiggling fingers directly into the base of his toes, his arches, the sides of his feet—even his ankles, which Klaus had no idea were ticklish but it was certainly driving him insane now. 

“Diehego! Plehease, man!” He arched his back and squealed, pounding his fist into the mattress. Diego scratched at every inch of vulnerable, sensitive skin, leaving Klaus to writhe and giggle frantically. It tickled like mad, fireworks exploding in every available nerve and sending jolts through his entire body.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know!” Klaus cackled, starting to slip off his bed with his laughter. Something hit Diego in the head and he grunted.

One of Klaus’s magazines was floating in the air, with a huge number five circled in red ink. 

“Thanks Ben.” Diego sprinted out of the room and towards his next victim.

He found Five on the living room couch, margarita and Ray Bradbury novel in hand. He was wearing his pajamas, a rare but heartwarming sight. 

“Where are they, you little shit?” Diego loomed over Five, twitching in frustration. Five took an obnoxious sip of his drink and turned the page.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ben gave you up. Quit playing dumb and tell me where my knives are.”

“I don’t know what Ben told you, but I really don’t have them.” He took another sip, louder this time, and Diego’s eye twitched.

“Get up.” Diego crossed his arms. Five rolled his eyes, bookmarking his page before easing off of the couch.

“What’re you gonna do, search me?” 

“Arms out.” Diego glared.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Five raised an eyebrow.

“Nope. If you don’t have them, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“No problem at all.” Five smiled and spread his arms, the picture of innocence. Diego scowled. 

Diego searched Five’s arms with no problem, his impatient hands gliding along his brother’s silk sleeves. The problem came when Diego moved to his torso. His pat-down became more of a slide-down as Diego’s unexpectedly gentle hands felt around Five’s armpits and ribs.

Shit, it really tickled.

Diego didn’t seem to notice the way that Five was wiggling, trying to subtly lean away from Diego’s unbearably gentle hands. Or the way he tapped his foot when those gentle touches moved across his stomach and sides. 

“Stop moving.” Diego said, giving Five a pointed stare. He gulped and faked a smile. He had this. Everything was under control.

Diego moved his hands down Five’s legs without much trouble, though he got a cough and some mumbled cursing when his hands brushed over his brother’s knees. Regardless, it was over, and Five’s perfect crime would go unpunished.

He had, in fact, stolen the knives, though it was mostly under duress. Klaus had threatened him pretty early on, warning Five that if he didn’t join ‘Team Boa’, he’d face literal hell. Considering what Klaus had put him through not two weeks earlier, he relented and let Klaus talk him into a death wish. No one messed with Diego’s knives, not even Grace, unless they wanted to lose a limb. For weapons so prized, they were particularly easy to steal. Just a quick flash into Diego’s apartment, a quick trip into Diego’s room, and voila. A ticking time bomb was set.

Two strong hands squeezed Five’s waist and he giggled. The room became very silent and Five nervously glanced at Diego. Anticipation fluttered in his stomach and before he could think to blink away, Diego had him pinned on his back. Ten wiggling fingers dug into his stomach and Five instantly fell apart.

“Normally I’d let you confess, but I know you’ll just teleport somewhere I can’t get you and make this whole thing more difficult than it needs to be,” Diego said, focusing on the sides of Five’s stomach and pulling bright, tumbling giggles from him.

“Is this a knife hilt I feel? Or how about here?” Diego’s fingers darted from Five’s ribs to his hips in unpredictable patterns. Five arched his back, digging his heels into the floor for purchase. 

“I should check under your shirt to be sure.”

“N-Noho! Yohou asshohole!” Five flailed beneath Diego, aiming weak punches anywhere he could reach. Diego targeted his exposed armpits for his trouble, and Five screeched, his dimples standing at attention on his face.

“Where are the knives, Five? I can do this all day.”

“I don’t—shit, ahaha!—I dohon’t hahave them!”

“I don’t believe you.” Diego’s fingers leapt to Five’s rib cage, vibrating with killer intent. Five’s knees slammed into Diego’s back as his head collided with the floor. He finally managed to latch onto Diego’s hands but it didn’t stop his brother from squeezing and scribbling and poking every inch of skin he could reach. He kept jumping between belly laughs and wild giggling, his body unable to keep up with Diego’s jumping hands.

It was when Diego tazed Five’s sides, a little too high up on his rib cage, that his fight or flight instincts kicked in. In a flash of blue light, both of them suddenly appeared in Diego’s bedroom. 

Huh. That was new.

“Trying to run?” Diego drilled his thumbs into Five’s hips and he shrieked, his whole body convulsing as he tried to crawl out from under Diego. 

“Nonono nohoho!” Five cackled when Diego dragged him back by his hips and focused there. He scribbled over the bones, squeezing every once in a while just to hear Five’s laughter jump. 

“Fine! Sohock drahawer! Pleahase, quihit ihit!” He pushed at Diego’s face, unable to tame his silly smile. Diego leapt up and ran to the dresser—sure enough, all of his knives were neatly arranged on top of his socks. He sighed in relief, then sprinted back over to Five and collapsed on top of him, taking one of his knees captive.

“Wait, what are you doing? I told you where they were!” Five managed to push himself up on his elbows, greedily sucking in air.

“You did, but you also stole them. That warrants punishment.” Diego grinned wickedly.

Five’s laughter rang through the house for quite a while after. 

[lavendersuh]

savor (m)

pairing: taeyong x female reader

genre: smut, friends to lovers, slight fluff

word count: .8k

a/n: my friend was complaining that she’s read all the taeyong smut on tumblr and then this idea popped in my head and i’m 90% sure i’m terrible at writing smut but it’s quarantine time so who cares aye enjoy !!!!

you woke up in a startled sweat, the images from your dream seered to the insides of your eyelids. the echoes of whining pleas plagued your ears and you blearily sat up, looking at your surroundings.

you had fallen asleep on the couch with your roommate and best friend after a long night of binging the latest season of his favorite anime. it wasn’t very interesting to you, but for the majority of the night, you’d watched him instead. his eyes would light up when exciting things happened, as you lazily ran your hand through his hair all night.

you sighed, laying back onto the couch defeatedly.

this wasn’t the first time you’d had a sex dream involves your roommate turned best friend. it was impossible not to be attracted to his cotton candy pink hair, his soft eyes, his rough hands.

every dream was different. different setting, different position, different tension.

but always lee taeyong.

your mind went back to the dream and all the things dream taeyong was capable of. you hated the cursed sounds your mind conjured up, the way he whined and whimpered as you rubbed your hips over his sweatpants, his calloused hands holding onto your waist like you might fall away if he doesn’t. you’d left marks down his next as your hands drifted under his shirt.

you couldn’t help the whisper of a moan that left your lips as your hand reached below the band of your underwear, still left unsatisfied from waking up.

you tried to savor the memory of the dream for as long as possible, soaking in the imaginary touches, the fleeting sounds, the very real tension that plagues your relationship with the boy still passed out next to you.

“oh tae,” you let out a frustrated groan. your eyes stay closed, holding on to the last images of the dream, of feeling his hands on your chest, of you grinding down on his dick, making him sing.

you let out a grunt, more annoyed at the current situation than upset about your unrequited feelings, when you feel movement next to you, and you pull your fingers from your panties. suddenly your back is pulled against taeyong’s chest, your heart beating wildly.

“morning,” he grumbles against your neck, letting out a huff of warm air.

you reply, hoping he can’t tell you’re breathing a bit heavy, sweating a bit too much.

his arms rest wrapped around your stomach as you settle into his embrace. one of his hands slowly moves up and down stomach, before slowly reaching further, and before you know it his hand is cupping your lower regions, and you feel an open mouthed kiss land on your neck.

“taeyong—?” you mean for it to come out as a question but it comes out instead as a moan, and your hips involuntarily rock back, meeting a hardness that shouldn’t surprise you.

“is this ok?” he whispers across your skin, one hand slipping into your underwear while the other slips beneath your t-shirt.

you breath out a “yes,” sinking further into his arms, your legs tangling together.

you’re cumming on his fingers before you know it, and you turn yourself around to get a look at his face. he smiles dazedly at you.

he pulls his hand out of your pants, reaching up to suck your wetness off his fingers. he keeps eye contact with you as he does this and you can’t help but stare back with wild eyes.

once he’s done you place a closed mouth kiss on his lips, pulling away quickly to see his reacting. he simply beams at you before kissing you again.

your tongues dance around each other, kissing for all the times you’d both wished you could’ve. your hand runs down his shirt, before pulling his sweatpants down a bit, revealing his hard on.

his lips pull away, revealing his now wild eyes, waiting for your next move. you wrap your hands around it, and dream taeyong’s got nothing on the sound that comes out of real taeyong as a result.

suddenly your small apartment is filled with the little whimpers that leave his mouth as your hand starts to move and it’s only a matter of time before he’s cumming all over your hand and his stomach.

you move your torso down to lap it all up with your tongue, relishing in the way he moves from the ticklish feeling.

you collapse back into his arms when you’re finished, both of you letting out a sigh.

“if i wake up from this dream in a few minutes,” you say, “i’m moving out.”

he runs a hand through your hair, placing a light kiss to the side of your forehead, “good thing it’s not a dream, then.”

you couldn’t agree more.

[inyourwildestdreamslove]

Chosen By the Gods

One sided: Ubbe x Reader

Final paring: Ivar x Reader

Summary: You’ve known your entire life you were going to end up with Ubbe and be queen of Kattegat. When Ubbe announces his engagement to Margrethe, you are heartbroken. Fleeing Kattegat you take refuge with  your life long friends Hvitserk and Ivar for comfort. Or is it more than just for comfort?

Ever since you were a child you’ve been told you would one day be queen of Kattegat. The seer had foretold it. So it was no surprise to your parents when you became best friends with Ubbe, the eldest son of Ragnar. Well the second eldest son… Bjorn had not been seen in years and therefore your parents were not concerned with him. Afterall, you were going to marry Ubbe and become queen and nothing as trivial as rightful heirs would stand in your way. It was foretold. 

So you had spent your entire life dreaming of marrying Ubbe. You loved Ubbe, he was perfect. He was handsome, strong, skilled, and kind. He was a great viking and an even better man, but most importantly, you loved him. You had been in love with him since before you could remember. He had always been there for you and always so kind. You adored him. So whenever you were asked why you weren’t married you, you would say.

“He’s just not ready for commitment just yet. I know it’s going to happen someday though. 

At least you thought that until he announced his engagement to Margarithe. You were shattered. 

This is how you found yourself on the last ship to the new land. Hvitserk and Ivar are there and you needed your friends now more than ever. You feel tears fall down your face as you remember the last thing that Ubbe said to you. 

“I wish you would be happy for me…” he mutters as you gaze out over the sea. 

You had taken refuge on the cliffs overlooking the sea, but he had found you nonetheless. 

“You could have at least had the balls to tell me before you told everyone else. I look like a fool,” your voice is ice cold and you miss his wince at your tone. 

“I did not know how… You’ve always had it in your head that we were to marry… I’ve just...never seen you like that.” 

You hold yourself together long enough to tell him one last thing. 

“You need to leave me right now...And never approach me again. You’ve lied to me my entire life and now I have to face this alone.”

All he does is offer a broken apology and leaves. 

You gaze out to sea and feel the wind on your face. You will be on land soon and someone will take you to the castle that Hvitserk and Ivar are staying in for the winter. You don’t really notice the journey there. You are still too lost in the life you will never lead with the man you will never have. Cursing your grief, you spend your time thinking about everything and nothing. 

You finally get to the caste and marvel at its grandeur. It is large and grand, but drafty and cold as the wind whips down the hallways. The boys are out on a hunt and you are informed they would be back soon. You’ve missed your friends of course. You had not seen any of Hvitserk or Ivar since they left for the raids across the sea almost 2 years ago. 

You end up making yourself comfortable next to the fire in one of the halls and drinking mulled wine as you relax into the plush chairs. It is a few hours later that the familiar voices of your old friends greet you. You’ve heard their voices many times before but they have never affected you like they do this time. 

You hear Hvitserk breath out your name as he turns the corner and sees you. Ivar is right behind him. 

You look up at them before you feel yourself break down into sobs that wrack your body. You had been holding yourself together for so long that you weren’t prepared for the moment you saw them. Your friends, the boys who had been your brothers growing up, your safe space. 

They rush to you and you feel strong arms wrap around you as you sob. 

“Who hurt you?!” you hear Ivar demand, “I will kill anyone who dares to hurt my dove.” 

“Tell us what is wrong… we want to help…” Hvitserk mutters as he rocks you back and forth attempting to comfort you. 

The only thing that you can do is sob. 

Hvitserk pulls you into his lap and curls himself around as he pets your hair. You’ve always been like a sister to him, and in the lifetime that he’s known you, he’s never seen you like this before. 

An hour later you sit with silent tears running down your face as you gaze into the fire. Ivar ordered your favorite meal to be prepared and he sits beside you gazing into the fire unsure of how to comfort you.

“Will you not tell us who hurt you?” he asks quietly. 

“Ubbe… He’s marrying…”

“Margarethe,” Hvitserk says as he gazes past you into the flames. 

“You are too good for him anyway. He never deserved you!” spits Ivar in disdain glaring angrily into the flames. 

“I love him…” you whisper out. 

“You will be fine Dove,” you hear Ivar murmur. 

You don’t say anything back, you just scoot closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation you feel his arm go around you before he pulls you closer to him. 

Over the next few weeks you notice that Hvitserk is sent out for supply runs, scouting missions and an assortment of other things while Ivar keeps you entertained. You don’t think much of it at first, it’s winter and you fall into a simple routine with the man you’ve known all your life. You had always been one of the only people to actually spend time with Ivar when he was young. When the two of you were young you would play games and would often spend time reading to him to help pass the time and ease his pain. The two of you end up spending much of your time together in the same way. Ivar would often pull you aside to play games rich with strategic elements stating you are the only one who is ever a match for him. And sure enough, you’re the only one who has ever beaten him and continue to do so. It’s moments when the two of you are laughing in the candle light that you feel the lightest. 

“You cannot do that!” Ivar groans in exasperation as he falls back onto the pillows and blankets the two of you have piled onto the floor. 

“Of course I can! I just did!” you exclaim as you throw his piece at him. He throws his hand up swatting the piece harmlessly away. His smile almost hidden as he shakes his head. 

“That is not how the game works!” he insists. 

“Well I just decided it was!” you say with a laugh. 

He smirks at you and you notice the devious look in his eyes. You’ve seen that look before many times. 

“Ivar, no.”

“What?” he asks innocently as he begins to move cautiously towards you. 

“I said no!” you exclaim as you struggle to get up, your long dress making you trip over yourself. 

He lunges at you, making the board go flying, and pins you to the floor before he starts his assault. 

You throw your head back, happy the pillows are there to protect your head from the stone floor, and begin to laugh. 

“I see you’re still ticklish in the same spots.”

“STOP!” you squeal. 

“Not until you admit defeat!”

“NEVER!”

His ticklish assault continues until you are panting for breath and you’re squirming on the floor in abject agony. 

“What is going on in here?!” exclaims Hvitserk as he rounds the corner, his booming voice enough to halt you both. 

You pant trying to catch your breath as Hvitserk fixes Ivar with an amused but stern gaze. 

“Ivar were you just not going to let her breath?”

“She was fine! You know I would never do anything to hurt her,” Ivar defends, looking affronted. 

“Still! You are not children anymore!”

“Hvitserk it’s fine…” you say having sufficiently caught your breath as you giggle at him. Ivar can’t help gazing at you. Your flushed cheeks and happy smile making him feel lighter than he has in years. You’ve always been a light in his life. His companion when he was younger. He recalls the tongue lashing you gave Margrethe when she had spoken about his inability to pleasure a woman. You had defended him, and comforted him during that time in his life. And despite everything he’s done to push you away, you simply roll your eyes at him, tell him to get over it and you’ll see him in the morning.

 Ubbe is not good enough for you and never will be. You deserve someone who will love you properly. Besides, you are meant to be a queen and he is meant to be a king, clearly the gods have deemed the two of you perfect for each other. 

“He does not always know his own strength…” Hvitserk says, looking worried as he sends Ivar a knowing look. 

You notice the way that Ivar tenses and the way his mask slips back into place. You reach over and place a hand on his broad shoulders, vaguely wondering when the boy you knew became a man. 

“I appreciate your concern Hvitty… but I trust Ivar. He’s never once hurt me in the past and I trust him to not start now.” 

You feel the tension leave his body, but the look he gives you is hard to read. He straightens himself up and you can practically feel his arrogance ooze off of him. This always happens when you side with him over his brothers. 

“You heard her… She trusts me!”

You giggle before you squeeze his shoulder. He turns his head towards you and sends you a boyish smile. 

“Alright… well I’m going to bed! Good night!” you say before you get up and head off to bed. A chorus of good nights following along behind you. 

You miss the warning look that Hvitserk sends Ivar, “She is still heartbroken over Ubbe, what are you doing?!” 

“She is better off without him! And nothing that you need to concern yourself with brother!”

“You don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing? You keep sending me off to keep me away from her! We have been friends our whole lives! You cannot keep me from her just because you feel like this is your shot with her!”

“This is my shot with her!” Ivar insists, “All my life she’s followed along behind Ubbe, claiming they are to be married! I love her! I’ve always loved her! And every time she declared her love for our brother, my heart broke! Now! Now it is my time to convince her that I’m the better choice! That I can make her happy in ways he would never be able to. And if you think anything is going to get in my way…”

“I am not trying to get in your way! She is my friend too! I care for her like a sister! I always have! Who do you think comforted her when Ubbe would go off and sleep with other women? Huh? Who do you think she ran to when her heart was broken? When our brother, knowing her feelings, would lie to her face to save his own ass and she knew! She has always been patiently waiting for Ubbe to love her. And it has broken her heart more times than I can count. And every single time her heart has been broken, who do you think held her when she cried? I did! I watched her deal with every lie she was told. She is strong, but she is not invincible! If you intend to love her, brother, do so the way she deserves. I will not be forgiving if she continues to run to me after that little speech you just gave me.” 

“But you would forgive Ubbe?” Ivar asks with malice. 

“Ubbe has never claimed to love her… I’ve never forgiven him for what he has done to her though…”

Ivar nods in understanding, but before he bids his brother good night, “I will love her properly, as she deserves to be loved, you have my word brother. I will also stop sending you out on missions. Clearly, you have been a larger part of her life than I ever knew.”

With that the brothers bid one another good night. 

The next day, for the first time in weeks, Hvitserk is at breakfast with you and Ivar. 

“What are your plans for today?” you ask the two of them. 

“Nothing at the moment,” says Hvitserk. 

“Can we go for a ride? I haven’t been out of the castle a lot since I got here!”

Hvitserk smiles at you, “Of course! I’ll have the horses saddled, we’ll go after breakfast!”

Your giddy with excitement, Hvitserk has always been one of your best friends, and spending time with him is therapeutic. 

It’s hours later when you are up on a ridge overlooking the sea that Hvitserk asks you if you have properly mourned.

“I’m trying to… It’s just hard sometimes to realize that this life I’ve planned, will be something entirely different. I always thought that he would settle down with me. That if I was just patient enough that one day he would realize that he loves me. That I’m the perfect person for him.”

“Why do you love Ubbe though?” Hvitserk asks, “he’s never given you the attention that you deserve.”

“He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man… He’s strong, intelligent, kind and viking through and through. He’s always been good to Ivar, even when others weren’t.”

“And what does Ivar have to do with this?”

“Everyone was always cruel to him and so afraid of his temper. He just wants love and acceptance like everyone else.”

“You know he killed Sigurd right?”

You just nod as you gaze out to the water. 

“I am not surprised that Ivar and Sigurd’s lifelong battle ended in death. They loved each other as family does, but held no affection for one another. It was only a matter of time before one of them broke. I am also unsurprised it was Ivar.”

“So you are okay with it?”

“How am I supposed to feel about it? I’ve always known what Ivar is capable of, I’ve always known that his anger is a fine line that crosses into dangerous territory sometimes.”

“And you do not fear him?”

“Do you fear him?”

“Sometimes…”

You nod, “Then you do not know him as I do…”

“Oh? And how do you know him?”

“I know him as the boy who would beg me to play games with him as a child, because all of the children refused to play with him. I know him as the young man who would lay with his head in my lap as I read to him and hide his tears as those around him would mock and ridicule him. I know him as the man who would move mountains to see me smile when I had a bad day, because I was there for him when no one else was. Love, Hvitserk, is a far more powerful an emotion than anger.”

“Do you love him?”

“He is my good friend…” you say as you gaze off into the setting sun. 

“That doesn’t answer my question…”

“Of course I love him, you know we have been friends for many years.”

“Not that kind of love…”

“I love Ubbe…” but the way you say that, is more as if you are convincing yourself than Hvitserk and even you know that you can only lie to yourself for so long. 

When you get home that night you find Ivar sitting in a chair by the fire looking as though he would happily commit murder at any moment in time. 

“Did you have a good time today?” you can tell he is mocking you the moment he opens his mouth. 

Ahh… of course… how could you forget how jealous and possessive the youngest Ragnarson is?

“Yes, I was able to explore the countryside. It’s quite beautiful.”

“So you and my brother had fun…”

“Yes, we did.”

“I see…”

“What Ivar? What do you see?”

“How easy it is for you jump from one brother to the next…You couldn’t have Ubbe so now you will just take what you can get?”

“Oh… so that’s what we’re going to do tonight…. We’re going to fight…” you say leveling your eyes at him. You watch as he rolls his jaw to release the tension. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Just try to keep your legs closed long enough to get over Ubbe before you sleep with Hvitserk.”

You scoff, “Are you quite done?”

“Did you ever even love Ubbe? Or did you just want to be queen?”

“Why are you being like this?” you ask as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Without another word you turn and rush off down the hallway to you room. 

Ivar does not see you for days.

“Ahhh…. So this is where you’ve been?” questions Hvitserk behind you almost a week later. You have been sneaking around town to avoid the boys.  

You turn around and gaze at him, “So you found me…”

“He’s worried sick, you know?”

“Who?”

“You know who…” he says with an exasperated sigh. 

“He shouldn’t have said that… I haven’t decided to forgive him.”

“You always forgive him…”

“Well I’m not ready to forgive him…” you say petulantly. 

“Why not? He’s said worse things to you than that and you always just brush it off. I’ve been more angry at him for the things he’s said to you during his tantrums than you have.”

“He didn’t mean it those other times. You have to know when he means it.”

“So he meant it this time?”

“Yes… he meant it this time.”

“What did he say to you? He refuses to tell me.”

“He asked me if I ever loved Ubbe or if I just wanted to be queen…”

“And that upset you?”

“Well it made me wonder… did I ever love Ubbe?”

“I’ve asked you that countless times and you’ve never been mad at me.”

“No...You’ve asked me why I loved him, you’ve never asked me if I loved him… and now I’m wondering if I ever did...or if I was just told to…”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents thought that Ubbe would be the next kind of Kattegat, he is the eldest of Ragnar and Aslaug, so it’s only natural he would one day take the throne. From the moment I can remember my parents groomed me to be queen. They said that the Seer foretold it. They told me that Ubbe and I would fall in love and get married. As I grew older, it just seemed like that was the natural flow of things. I developed a crush on Ubbe and it was just the will of the gods. He would fall in love with me and we would be married and I would be queen. Clearly this is to be my life. However… did I ever even love Ubbe? He would run off and leave Ivar and I behind, and the two of us would make up our own games. When we got older, he paid less and less attention to me, and when we would talk it was forced. He didn’t want to talk to me and we had nothing to talk about. Even telling him about my day would leave him wanting to run from the conversation. We’ve never connected on a personal level, we have nothing in common and he has no interest in me. Did I ever even love him, or did I just think I didn’t have a choice?”

Hvitserk looks at me as if he doesn’t know what to do or say. 

“So you don’t love Ubbe?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Who do you love?”

“Ivar… I think I’ve loved him… He was the one who I would seek out when I was sad or bored. We would sit for hours just talking or playing silly games. In fact, did you know that we used to sit and make up stories about the people we saw. They would become characters in our little sagas, and we would laugh about it for days. Sometimes if we told particularly funny stories, anytime we would see that person we would fall into a fit of giggles.”

“That’s why you two would just randomly start laughing for no reason!? We all just thought you were mad!”

You just smiled at him, “We would sit for hours at the Blacksmith’s shop and he would forge weapons and I would fasten jewelry. He used to bring me back jewels from the market for me to turn into pieces that matches my dresses.”

“So let me get this straight… You’ve been in love with Ivar not Ubbe this entire time… and you just didn’t know it?”

“When you put it like that…”

“I’m going to kill you both….”

“Us both?”

“He’s been pining for you since we were fifteen!”

“But…”

“NO! Go find him because I can’t deal with his moping any longer! If you don’t talk to him about your feelings, I will be forced to put you both on a ship and set you out to sea until you realize you’ve been in love with one another for an entire decade!”

“Alright… Fine! I’ll go find him…” you grumble under your breath at the disgruntled brother. 

When you find him you can his anger radiating off of him. He’s sneering at a guard before he sees you and begins to make his way towards you.

“You have been avoiding me for days!” he exclaims as he rushes towards you, anger in every step. 

“I need you to follow me.”

“What? No! You need to tell me why you were avoiding me!”

“I was thinking… Now come on!”

With that you turn and stomp away fully expecting the man behind you to follow after you. You can hear him grumbling under his breath and the heavy clunk of his crutch. 

“Slow down woman!” you hear him yell in anger, scaring the English men, women and children in the marketplace. 

“Stop shouting… you’re scaring them!” you exclaim watching as mothers pulled their children closer to them at your tone. They may not know what you are saying, but they know it is dangerous to take such a tone with the ruthless Viking. 

“They should be scared!”

You turn abruptly to him and place you hand on his chest you lips mere inches from his, “You need to learn to lead with more than just fear, Ivar. Kindness will get you farther in life than you think it will.” 

He brings his head down closer to you, “Perhaps that is why you did not end up with Ubbe…”

“Kindness?”

“He is already kind… Perhaps your kindness is needed somewhere else…”

“Perhaps…” you say as you pull away from him, just as he leaned in to you. 

You continue down the street, and he is grumbling even more behind you. Finally, you stop outside of a blacksmith’s shop. 

“What are we doing here?!”

You turn towards him and walk into the shop, startling the man that had been working just moments ago. Ivar walks in after you, now more so out of curiosity. 

“When was the last time we people watched?”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

You can see he is getting frustrated. 

“Because it’s something only we do together.”

He stops and gazes back at you, “I don’t understand…”

“When we were younger, do you remember how we used to just sit for hours and talk about nothing? How we would make up stories about the townspeople? How we would laugh at the silly things we would make up?”

“Of course I remember…” he says it so quietly you almost don’t hear him. 

“You are the only person I’ve ever laughed like that with…”

“I am?”

“Yes… Ubbe never loved me… He didn’t even take the time to know me truly. And here you were carving my favorite animals out of wood to make little charms. Or sitting with me when I didn’t feel good, or was sad…. Or just laughing with me when we were happy. You would encourage me to do whatever I wanted to do, no questions asked no boundaries. You would ask me about my day when we settle down to read at night and you would listen. You listened to everything I had to say and knew my every whim. When I was down you would have the kitchens make my favorite cake. You would shower me with gifts when merchants would come into town. And I was so stupid and so blind…. How could I love your brother, when I loved you this entire time and I was just too stupid to know it.”

“You...love me?”

“Yes Ivar… I love you.”

The words are scarcely out of your mouth before he practically stumbles over to you in his haste to kiss you. His arms wrap around you and you feel his lips on yours and it is what Valhalla must feel like. When he finally breaks away he just gazes down at you with love and adoration. 

“Only you… would drag me all the way to a damn blacksmith to give me that speech…”

“Well that’s not the only reason I brought you here…”

“What is the other reason…”

You smile as you walk over to the blacksmith and politely hold out your hand to him. He pulls something from a pouch and drops it into your hand. In your hand is a necklace made from the finest silver of a pair of wolves. 

He chuckles as he gazes down at the pendant in his hands. 

“Why a wolf?”

“Because it’s your favorite animal to craft… Do you have any idea how many idols of wolves you’ve given me over the years?”

“How many?”

“More than I can count…”

“So you wanted to give me one?”

“I wanted you to know that you aren’t alone...you’ve never been alone… I’ll always be with you…Just like you’ve always been with me…”

He takes a step towards you, “I can’t wait to make you my wife…” he murmurs before he leans down and presses his forehead to yours. 

“Hmmm… that does have a nice ring to it…”

“Hmmm… yes… so does queen…”

“I don’t care about being queen Ivar… I only care about being with you…”

“And I, you…”

I hope you enjoyed this! I had a lot of fun writing it, please let me know if you would like me write more Ivar in the future! Thoughts are appreciated!

[angelatmidnight1]

Hi again ^~^ I asked for a Seer x reader thing and I jsut came up with a better idea, hopefully soemthing that will help you write. What if Seer is trying to use the reader as a canvas or soemthing similar? <3

Funny Bones

A/N: I hope this is to your liking! I made this story Halloween themed 'cause I kinda have the spooky season on the brain. Let me know what you think!

With Halloween approaching, you are exploring ideas for costumes, and settle on being a neon skeleton. You ask Seer to help you with the body paint. He is happy to oblige and promises to do his best work for you. You just didn’t know that those paint brushes would tickle so much…

“(Y/N), biko. You must try to hold still…” 

Obi instructed with a small chuckle. The crisp autumn air spilled into his apartment room and danced around the two of you. Even though it didn’t have an official smell, Halloween was in the air, and you couldn’t wait to show off your costume. You’d settled on being a skeleton and were going to use neon, blacklight reactive paint to achieve your look. There was only one problem…

Paint brushes tickled. And they tickled a lot. 

You looked up at Obi with a wide grin as he lowered the paint brush towards your neck. So far, all he’d completed was the face make up. “I’m tryhyhying,” you snickered. “Buhut it rehehehally tihihickles.”

“I know, my friend.” Obi chuckled. “Be strong. We have uncovered a small glimpse of the masterpiece that is just waiting to be unveiled.”

You took a breath. Obi did not resume painting yet, waiting for your permission to keep going. After another brief moment, you closed your eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m ready.”

Obi nodded. You tilted your head back to give him access. And, the second the tip of the paintbrush grazed your neck, you squealed. You fought the urge to bring your head back down. Obi, with his free hand, gently held the back of your head, more so to steady himself. It wouldn’t be enough if you decided to bring your head down anyway. 

“Be still,” Obi gently reminded, outlining the small rectangles along the front of your neck. You snorted.

“Huhuhrryyy…” You whined. The giggles spilled from your lips as Obi moved down, stopping just above your collarbone. You sighed with relief. “Ahahare—are yohuhu dohohne?”

“Not quite, that was only the outline,” Obi answered, shaking his head. He cleaned off the brush he was using and dipped it into a fresh coat of bright blue paint. “Now, I must go back and paint the inside of these boxes.” 

You groaned and dramatically fell back against the cushioned table. Obi chuckled at your theatrics. 

“Would you like me to stop?” Obi went on, putting the paint brush back where he got it from. “If you are uncomfortable, we do not have to continue.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” You dismissively waved your hand and smiled at him. “I’ll survive. I really wanna see how this turns out.”

Obi returned your smile. “As you wish, my friend.” He then motioned for you to sit up, and you complied. He picked up his paint brush again, sat down in front of you, and leaned towards you. “Biko, tilt your head up.”

Again, you complied. You felt him move closer to you and, although you tried not to, a wobbly grin etched its way onto your face. Seer could hear your heart rate increase. Before he could touch you, you started giggling again out of anticipation. 

“W-Wahahit, wait—”

“I have not touched you yet, (Y/N).” Obi chuckled. 

“I knohow, sorry. I got a bit nehervous..” You admitted, blushing. 

Obi smiled and put his free hand on your shoulder. “There is no need to apologize. Would it help if I counted down before I start painting?” 

You wordlessly nodded. Obi re-dipped the brush back into the paint and leaned towards your neck. 

“One,” he began.

“Two,”

Your breath hitched and you bit your lip. You pinched your eyes shut and waited for the inevitable. 

“Three.”

With that, Obi began filling in the rectangles he painted. He moved the paintbrush in short, downwards strokes at a steady pace. A shiver ran up your spine as you giggled and drummed your feet against the floor. 

“Pfftt, Ohohohohbiii!” You snickered and grabbed onto a nearby pillow. You squeezed it, trying to alleviate the ticklish feeling, but it didn’t help. It was getting harder and harder for you not to move your head, but boy were you trying not to. Obi gently shushed you. 

“I am almost finished,” he replied, continuing the pace that he was working at. The artist was also doing his best to maintain his neutral, professional stance as he worked. But, your giggles and squeaks were also making it difficult for him not to smile. He stroked the paint brush at the spot just above your collarbone, and you snorted. 

“Ahahaha! Ohohohobihi, ihihihit tihihickles!” You laughed. Embarrassed by the snorts, you brought a hand up to your face to muffle them. It worked, sort of, but Obi was close enough to hear them perfectly fine. Just before you brought your head down, the artist finally withdrew his hand. 

“Okay, okay. All finished.” Obi grinned and dropped his paint brush into a jar of water. You continued to giggle and had a death grip on your pillow. 

“Ahaha…ohoho my gohohsh,” You tittered and opened your eyes. You could still feel the ticklish sensations in your neck, but you didn’t rub at it. You didn’t want to ruin Obi’s hard work. “Dohohes it— does it look good?”

“Yes, the color looks marvelous against your skin.”  Obi assured. He stood up to grab you a mirror and a small blacklight. Then, he returned to you, handing them both to you. “Here, take a look for yourself.” 

You took the mirror and looked at Obi’s work. The color complimented your skin tone nicely and glowed a bright neon purple under the blacklight. You grinned. 

“Whoa, this looks awesome, Obi! I’m literally glowing.” You beamed, earning a chuckle from the artist. 

“Agreed, and just imagine how beautiful you will look once the work is completed.” Seer smiled. “No matter what room you set foot into, all eyes will be on you. I will make sure of it.”

“Sweet!” You cheered and handed the mirror and light back to him. Obi took it and put it on a nearby table. 

“Now, I must complete your torso next. Lay back against the table, please.”

You paled; your torso was way more ticklish than your neck. You did as he asked, but those butterflies in your stomach crept up on you. You were wearing a skeleton themed crop top and shorts, which left your torso and legs exposed. Obi scooted his chair by your side. He noticed the nervous, giddy look on your face, and he gave you a warm smile. 

“Are you ready?” He asked. You nodded, but your eyes kept watching him clean and recoat the paint brushes. That fluttery feeling in your stomach got stronger if you watched, so you closed your eyes again. Once Seer was ready, he hovered over you, aiming for your ribs.

“Yeah, yeah. Go aheahahahd-” You gasped aloud when Obi swept the brush lengthwise on your rib cage. This time, you couldn’t help but jerk in the opposite direction, a loud laugh escaping you. “AHAHAHA! I’m sohohohohrry!”

“No wahala, it is fine. I can fix it,” Obi answered, taking a towel with his free hand to wipe the messed up line. Then, he moved to start again, but you instinctively leaned away, grinning. Obi chuckled and carefully moved his hand under you, turning you back towards him. “Come here, I cannot reach you over there.”

You giggled, only to laugh again when he resumed painting your ribs. He stroked between your ribs at a slow pace and took his time to create straight lines. You squirmed again and made him mess up the lines. Obi sighed softly and gave you a look. He wasn’t angry or annoyed in the slightest, and the look he gave you actually made you giggle more. 

“(Y/N), if you are unable to hold still, I will have to hold you in place until the work is completed.” He warned in a light tone. He recoated the brush in a fresh coat of paint and hovered back over your ribs. You looked up at him with wide eyes and shook your head, grinning widely.

“No, no! I’ll hold still, I promise.” You quickly answered. You knew that Obi always said what he meant, but in all honesty, you were having fun. You didn’t always get to see him in a more casual, playful setting. 

The artist smirked. “Hm, we will see.” he chuckled. He went back to shading your ribs. He swept the brush back and forth and made sure the coat was even. Then, he went to the next rib, smiling again at your snorts and squeals. “Hmhm, almost there.”

You caught a glimpse of Obi smiling and you blushed brightly. “Hehehehey! It’s nohohohot fuhuhuhnny!” You squealed. You dug your nails into the sides of the table, giggling louder as he ventured further down your rib cage. Obi shook his head. 

“No, you are mistaken, my friend. I am just enjoying the sound of your laughter.” Obi replied. He reached your lowermost ribs again and noticed your laughter deepen. He paused, waiting for your laughs to calm down a bit before he returned to the spot. “It is quite melodious. Such a beautiful range of sounds.”

Your blush spread further across your cheeks. “Thahahahahnk yOHUHUHUHU!” You suddenly shrieked as those bristles gently scratched against your lowermost rib. Again, you jerked to the side, laughing loudly. Then, Obi used one hand to put you back into your reclined position, holding your waist down so that you couldn’t squirm away. Your eyes widened. “Nonono, wahahahait! Obi! I cahahahahn dohohoho it!”

“I apologize, (Y/N). But I do not have a choice,” he answered. While holding you still, he was able to complete the work on your ribs. So, he began on your abdomen, painting shapes to outline your spine. “I promise, I will work as quickly as possible.”

“NAhahaha! NOHOHOHO!” You squirmed in Obi’s hold, but you didn’t go anywhere. This time, he moved the brush horizontally, only stopping to get more paint onto his brush. No matter which way you squirmed, the ticklish feeling followed you. You flailed your arms like crazy. “STAHAHA OOHOHOHOBIHI!”

“Not yet. Just a moment more.” Although he was tickling you, Seer wasn’t inattentive. He paid close attention to your laughter’s volume and your overall body language to make sure you weren’t in any true distress. And, all he noticed was that you were pretty sensitive. He ended the painting just a hair above your navel. You squealed and then fell back against the table, still giggling. “Hmm…”

You peeked up at Obi, having to take a breath between your giggles. “Whahahaht ihihis ihihit?” you asked. You had to resist the urge again to not rub your torso. Obi nodded towards your torso. 

“I could have made these lines a bit straighter. Here, allow me to correct it.” Instead of using the brush again, Obi took his finger and swept above where he worked. His finger claws grazed your tummy and you snorted. 

“Wahahait! Yohuhur clahahahws tihihickle!” You protested. You lurched forward and latched onto his wrist, but he continued. “Ohohohohbi yohuhur clahahahahahws!”

Obi stopped, chuckling. “My mistake, I sometimes forget that I am wearing them.” He looked over the work that he completed and nodded. “However, I am satisfied with how the lines look now.”

You breathed through your nose and looked down at your torso. Since you were on your back, and Obi had an arm holding your waist down, you couldn’t see much. But, you trusted his judgment. 

“Now, I just need to complete your hips, legs, and perhaps your hands.” 

All tickle spots. When he brought the brush to your hip bone, you covered it with your hand. He gave you another look, and you grinned at him. 

“(Y/N), move your hand, please.” Seer said, smirking. He would’ve moved your hand himself, but he was already holding your waist still and trying to paint at the same time. You playfully shook your head. 

“Pfft, no…” You retorted, grinning wider at him. There was a beat, and suddenly, Obi took the handle of the brush and gently poked your side. There wasn’t any paint there, so he didn’t mess up his previous work. You jumped and moved your hand to cover where he poked, which freed up your hip. 

“Thank you.” Seer resumed painting your hip, outlining the bone. You tried to buck, but he still had a firm, yet gentle hold on your waist. Your laughter filled the room again as you grabbed onto his wrists. 

“Youhuhuhu dihihid thahaht on puhuhuhurpose!” You yelped, earning another grin from the artist. 

“I was only trying to move your hand from the area where I wished to paint.” He corrected. “It worked.”

You playfully narrowed your eyes; two could play at that game! Since you weren’t gaining any leverage on Obi’s wrists, you decided to drop your hand and squeeze his side. Obi froze and looked at you. You did it again. But, as much as you squeezed and poked, he didn’t flinch or crack a smile. Obi tutted. 

“A brave effort, but ineffective, I’m afraid.”

Now, while painting, Seer made more deliberate attempts to tickle you. He was able to complete your left hip and started on the right. While you struggled and laughed, he added fuel to the fire by occasionally stopping to flutter his fingers against your side, under your chin, or even at the top of your knee. His touch was light, delicate even, and after just a few more minutes of the light tickles, you called uncle. 

“Okahahahy! Okay! I’m sohohohohrry!” You pleaded. “I wohohon’t tihickle you again!”

Obi snickered and stopped. While you were mainly distracted by his tickles, he was able to finish your hips. “I am not angry, (Y/N). Of course you are forgiven.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Seer released your waist to begin painting a skeletal pattern on your legs. This wasn’t as ticklish as painting your upper body, so besides the occasional giggle or squeak. You were able to relax. That is, if Obi didn’t sneak a poke or scribble across your knees.