#travi's ocs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ameagrice · 5 days ago

Text

Capsize

percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-eight | headlock

You sit up so suddenly that your forehead collides with someone else’s. Groaning, your hand on your head, you open your blurry eyes and blink until your vision returns to normal.

The sky is still bright. Someone’s used Percy’s burial shroud as a pillow for you, where it rests on the floor, balled up. Your head hurts, though you can’t be sure if it’s from smacking against someone else’s, or if it’s from passing out.

“Well,” someone chuckles with humour, “that’s one way to wake her up.” They extend a plastic bottle down to you, shaking it impatiently. Clarisse is standing above you, laughing. “Take it, then!”

You’re aware of water dripping down your face, but even more aware of the parched feeling in your throat. You remember you barely managed to get breakfast, never mind a proper drink. If you went and checked your levels now, they would scream dehydrated.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth crouches with concern, laying a hand on your shoulder. “You fell pretty hard.”

“Yeah.” You cough to clear your throat, dancing your eyes around the small group. “I feel…fine…”

He stands at the back, with his hands in his pockets, head ducked awkwardly. There’s Annabeth next to you, Clarisse in front, jabbing jokes (although, that look she’s trying to cover up might be worry), and then there’s him. Percy Jackson. He glows with health, and even looks a couple of inches taller than he did the last time you saw him. That might just be because you’d been cloaked in the dark tunnels though.

“You’re not dead.” You blurt, without thinking. “You’re not dead.”

“Great, right!” Clarisse slaps a hand hard on your aching head. You wince, leaning back. “I’ll grab us some food. You look ashy, and I’m starving after the show.”

Ouch. But food would be nice. You feel your stomach eating itself, and sigh.

“So,” Annabeth breaks the ice. “Percy isn’t…gone after all.“

“I feel like I’m in a bad dream,” you raise your eyebrows and shake your head slowly.

“This is a good thing…isn’t it?” Annabeth nervously looks between you and Percy. “This is…Percy’s breathing! Yay!”

“Where were you?” You ask. “I waited for you.”

“Oooookay,” Annabeth pats your shoulder. “Let’s get up. We can talk about this somewhere more comfortable.”

So you move to the Big House. The whole time, Percy can’t look you in the eye, always focussing on your shoulder, or just staring at his feet. He answers Annabeth only in short words and humming replies. It strikes you as weird because Percy’s a talker.

Inside, Chiron fixes you a glass of water and a snack, and tells you to sit on the couch before you fall over again.

Then the interrogation begins.

“Where have you been?” You demand, swinging your hand around so violently the water in the glass spills over on to the carpet with a thud. “We spent weeks thinking you were ten feet under and then you just show up like, what? Like you’re the guest of honour?”

Leaning on the arm of the chair opposite, Percy crosses and uncrosses his arms, mouth opening and closing when he thinks better of whatever he was about to say. Chiron, the silent observer, clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Percy mumbles, “I got lost.”

You splutter for words, throwing another tip of water on the carpet. Chiron buts in, pushing a mediating hand between the two of you. “Now, now. This is a shock for everybody, I know. Drink your water, dear. You’ve barely woken up.” As if that’s the reason you’re in shock.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just…you’ve been gone for weeks. What happened? You sent me away and then…”

At last, his vibrant eyes meet you. Freckles have come out, dark against his tan skin. Percy’s mouth twists, he looks away almost in guilt. Instantly, your stomach grows heavy, your eyes harden in suspicion.

“I caused the explosion at the mountain,” he starts, “that was my fault. There were too many of them there—monsters, I mean. I blew the place up, and I thought I’d died. But I woke up in the middle of nowhere, my skin was burned up, and everything was hurting. And, well, that was it. The island healed me up, Hephaestus dropped by to see how I was doing, sent me home when he was ready, and here I am.”

You grit your teeth. You don’t move. You don’t blink. Annabeth shifts on the back of the couch, taking the glass from you.

“And where was this ‘oh magical island?’?” You pry. “You Must. Have. An idea. Right?”

“I—I don’t know. I just woke up there. I think Hephaestus sent me there to get better.” Percy avoids you again. Chiron has grown very serious.

You sit forward violently. “Hephaestus who can’t acknowledge his own children, sent you to a magical island to get better,” you emphasise each and every letter, “out of the goodness of his heart—AFTER, might I add! AFTER you blew up his forge?”

Chiron snaps your name angrily. It might be the first time he’s shown any sort of anger towards you that you can remember.

“I know how it sounds,” he raises his hands in a placating manner. “Just hear me out before you go trying to kill me, please. It sounds ridiculous from an outsider’s point of view, but trust me on this. When he came back for me, Hephaestus, he told me that we can get through the maze.”

“Oh, you want to go back down?”

“What did he tell you?” Annabeth sets a hand on your shoulder, cutting you off from saying anything further. “What’s next?”

“Well he sort of told me that I already knew how to get through the maze. At the time I wasn’t sure what he meant. But now I do.”

“So what’s the answer.”

“We need a mortal. We need a mortal’s help for this,” he grimaces at the look on your face. You can’t explain what look it is, though. “Just like Theseus had Ariadne’s help originally.”

“I’m sorry,” you snort. “Are we forgetting whose quest this is? Why are you calling the shots?”

Chiron looked uncomfortable. “Did you have any particular mortal in mind, Percy?”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he laughs lightly. “She’s called Rachel. She lives in New York. A while back I ran into her a couple of times, she has enough Sight to help us with this.”

You see red. “This is my quest. We all understand that don’t we? I was quite literally chosen for this. Why are we giving away this to some random girl in the city?!”

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Chiron manages, “This is your quest. But you need help.”

“Oh, and this random girl is supposed to help?” You flat your hands. “Please! Can’t you see how bizarre this is! It’s wrong! It’s cowardly! It’s—”

“Hard to admit we need a mortal’s help,” Percy cuts in gently, frowning. “But it’s true.”

Falling silent, you drop back into the chair, suddenly tired. Raising your gaze from the carpet, Percy is still looking at you, with a little bit of sorrow in the guilt. He looks away, and Annabeth pats your shoulder.

“Want me to leave you to talk about it?” She says. You can feel yourself falling away very quickly from the current scene, the situation becoming that of background noise, like you’re in a bubble. “I’ll go check on Clarisse?”

“If you could, please, Annabeth…”

So she does. Which leaves yourself, Percy and Chiron to talk things over.

“We can talk later about your—choices, Percy,” Chiron coughs. He addresses you briefly. “But this is your choice, if you should go on with the quest, my dear. Your choice only. As only Percy has returned thus far, I will allow you to choose another person to accompany you the rest of the way, should you choose to go.”

Your head snaps up. The line between your eyebrows appears again, so close to turning permanent. “What?”

The air stills. Chiron side-eyes Percy briefly. “Three people is right for a quest. You first chose Grover and Percy. Since Grover has, circumstantially, chosen to leave for the time being on his own journey to find the god Pan, it is only Percy, and yourself, now,” he says somewhat disagreeably, like even he can’t comprehend how the situation has turned to this.

“Wonderful,” you snap, “that’s—that’s brilliant. Supposed we’ll have to have Rachel Dare’s help then, won’t we?”

‘Three’s a crowd’ sits on your tongue. You don’t have the guts to say it just now. Percy tips his head down, and waves of immaculate hair tumble with the movement. You find yourself transfixed on it, and not in a good way. You don’t need a mirror to understand the firm, and angry look on your face. Something scratches in your stomach, bothering you deeply. On the arm rests, your hands clench at the material. You don’t blink. Don’t even move. What did Chiron say? Something about Percy’s choices. Percy’s choices…

Had he chosen this?

You eye the silver line in his hair. Was this, weeks of torment and starving and hunger for something not edible but emotional all Percy’s choice? Were you but a knock-on effect in the sea that was Percy’s choices? Had he really chosen your sleepless nights and hungry stomach and teary eyes over something he refused to disclose? Without so much as a sorry?

Percy’s choices led you here. They always had, of course. Because now you’re thinking about it, it was Percy who chose to sit next to you in class, to enter your life. It was Percy you were with when you found out you’d only known half a life, the other beginning at Camp. It was Percy who took you out of the equation for his first quest, and Percy who, by Chiron’s choice of words, made a choice that caused him to disappear for weeks on end. He came back, why? Had he come home only because you were the afterthought filling him with guilt? Is that the look in his eyes and on his face? Is it eating him up inside?

Yes, you hope.

You hope it is.

The most awful part of you hopes it is hurting as much as it hurt you to think he was dead and buried somewhere you’d never reach again.

“Let us not burn a hole in Percy’s forehead,” Chiron jokes with mirth and worry, reaching forward to unfurl your fist. “You should get something to eat. The girls will be waiting for you. I have to talk to Percy.”

Not even a sorry, you think, getting to your feet again. He doesn’t look up, not even when you open the door. Not even a sorry.

You don’t find Annabeth or Clarisse. You go back to your cabin, have a total nervous meltdown, cry a lot, and fall asleep in your bed, tired, until nightfall, when the others fall in after dinner. Nobody’s surprised at all to see you curled up in bed, but a few people were nice enough to bring back a good plate of food and a bottle of water.

Sometime around midnight, when everyone is asleep, you climb out of bed and pull on a sweater over your pyjamas, pulling on the hood strings as you step out and close the door silently behind. It’s not a good idea being out after lights out—the harpies go insane, and the creatures in the forest come out with confidence. But there’s something magic in the way their bioluminescence creates pockets of light in the trees, and the sound reminds you of movies. If you look past the potential danger those little creatures possess, it’s really beautiful.

But they’re not what you’re looking for right now.

The lights are out in every cabin but one, whose very essence seems alive now the only inhabitant is home. The light coming through the curtains is warm and dull but there, like the beating heart of the building. At the door, you hesitate. Is it worth talking to Percy? Has he bothered with you? But you’re here now so you may as well.

You knock three times and take a step back, waiting. Percy drops something inside, and before you know it the door opens. He’s still wearing today’s outfit of shorts, t-shirt and jacket, but you don’t feel embarrassed of standing before him in your old pyjamas and Hollister sweater. Percy blinks like a deer in the headlights, his mouth opening and closing but not saying anything.

You inhale deeply. “Imgladyourenotdead!”

He comes back to normalcy. “What?”

Exhaling, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Oh,” he pauses. “Me, too. I mean I’m glad you’re, like, here. Not that I’m not glad I’m not dead. Which I am glad about, but—”

You break out into a smile, which causes Percy to relax. His shoulders grew softer and deflate, and a dopy smile replaces his deer look. He steps back and opens the door wider, inviting you in. You accept his offer.

There are pieces of paper strewn all over the floor by Percy’s crumpled up bed sheets, hanging half off the bed. You can’t quite make out what the papers say, the majority of them balled up or ripped to shreds. A water bottle lays leaking on the floor; that must have been what he’d dropped. Greek letters on one of them, but you’re not close enough to read it. You’d learned in high school that Percy was dyslexic, and never figured it was a big deal. For Percy, coming to Camp and realising his brain was hardwired for Greek and Ancient Greek over English; everything made sense. He still struggled with it at times, but you’d noticed the improvements.

“I’m sorry,” you squeeze out. Apologies have never been easy for you. “About earlier. Being so angry. I was just…shocked. You know, we really thought you were gone forever. Thought I’d have to wait a couple decades to see you again Downstairs.”

Percy hums. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean for, well, all of this. I tried to get back. It was just out of my control.”

You turn from the papers, walking backwards until you sit on Percy’s bed, listening intently. “Where did you go?”

He opens his mouth, but looks away, and pauses. “I don’t know. Some island. Like I said, Hephaestus sent me there. He didn’t explain much to me. I just woke up there. The island healed me.” His words are heavy and meaningful, and you can almost convince yourself he’s telling the truth. But you know he isn’t. You know Percy.

You only nod, slowly, watching him nervously look away.

“You look…” he trails.

“Like a sack’a bones?” You laugh through your nose. When Percy goes to protest you simply shake your head. “It’s not a lie, Percy. I was worried sick. Literally. I didn’t want to believe you were dead.”

Your honesty sends him awkward. Percy’s cheeks flush red, and he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m sorry.” He might be awkward, but he’s honest.

You face forwards, Percy sitting next to you. The bed drips.

“I had the strangest dreams out there.”

“Oh yeah?”

He chuckles quietly. “Yeah. Um—you went missing, and I couldn’t find you at all. It was like you’d been wiped off the earth, or, more like you never even existed. Nobody remembered you. You came home in the end, took a while though. We travelled half the country to find you. More of a nightmare, really…” his words make you feel uneasy.

“Maybe your brain was just reflecting real life. To be thrown on some unknown island alone for weeks like that?” Something peeks out of the pocket in Percy’s shirt. “…had to…mess with your head. What’s that?” You nod to the little sprig.

Percy’s eyes turn to saucers. He coughs, recovering quickly, and raises shaky fingers to pull the tiny plant from the pocket. Its roots are skinny and frail, but the flower they lead to is bright white. The petals are perfectly rounded, five total. They’re dotted with almost see-through circles.

“It’s beautiful,” you reach out to brush your finger on one of its petals. It almost looks like it’s glowing, but with the light from Percy’s nightshade it’s hard to tell. “You found it on the island?”

He swallows hard. “Yeah.” And says no more.

You sit until late into the night and early morning watching the flower glow gently. You see the sky begin to turn orange, signally dawn is coming, and finally retreat to your own cabin for some sleep. For once in what feels like forever, you feel nothing but comfort, slipping under the covers as your cabin turns a warm shade of orange and yellow as the sun comes up, quiet and basking in the knowledge that everyone is, finally, safe.

It’s late afternoon when someone wakes you up. Apparently it was a unanimous decision to leave you alone until time got on. By the time you’re up, dressed and ready for the day to head over to Sally Jackson’s home in Manhattan, it’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon. You eat a steady supply of toast and jam, down a cup of apple juice, and take a bottle of water in your bag for the ride.

Chiron waits for Percy and yourself by the camp border. He doesn’t look particularly pleased that you’re both leaving, but you don’t care. There isn’t much to be done about your current situation, so you carry on.

You feel rejuvenated today, almost bouncing in place, waiting for Percy to finish packing his bag on the grass. Is it the good sleep? Or the weight off your shoulders now Percy is home and breathing?

“No detours,” Chiron instructs, pointedly looking at you. You hold up your hands in surrender. “No wandering. I’d like this to be a straightforward journey, today. Too many things have been going wrong; this trip has to be straightforward.”

“That’s us told,” You pipe up, tilting your head.

Percy elbows your leg.

Chiron only smiles, tensely. You get the feeling there’s something they’re not telling you, but let it drop, for now.

Percy’s mom is absolutely ecstatic to see her son again, for obvious reasons. Her cheeks drench with tears as she holds him to her, rocking side to side in place at the front door. As much as Percy will try and hide it, you know his teary look is legit, and not the result of some dust in his eyes. Sally lets him go and steps out of the way, letting you into the apartment. She doesn’t miss you, though you’re not anticipating her considering you as well. She grabs you by the arm when you pass her, and just about suffocates you in her embrace. You’re not going to say no—it’s nice to just be held and loved by a mom. The older girls at camp are a godsend for trials and tribulations you might be facing, and they’re sisterly, but not motherly, so it isn’t quite the same. You could get high on the feeling of being loved on.

Sally Jackson smells like Elizabeth Arden’s green tea perfume, and a mix of something sweet, and laundry powder. The apartment smells strongly of baking, and when you round the hallway to the living room adjoining the kitchen, you see plates upon plates of cookies and cakes.

“Damn, Sally,” you breathe. “You’ve been busy.”

“Mom!” Percy complains. “What are you going to do with all of this!”

“You’re going to eat it!” She instructs with a laugh, wiping her eyes and briskly walking past the two of you. She pushes you both to sit on the couch, and you do without complaint. Sally returns with a plate of chocolate chip, and raisin, cookies in one hand and a plate with two strawberry-frosted cupcakes in the other. She sets them down on the table, and then turns around with a quiet, ‘oh, forget it’ and leans around to squeeze you both into a bear hug. Percy’s cheek presses against yours, boiling hot to the touch, embarrassed. You simply melt against Sally and return her hug, going as far as throwing one arm around her and one around her son.

“I told them you’d be alright,” she muffles into her son’s hair.

“Here I am,” he drones, bored-sounding. You know for a fact it’s all pretend; Percy’s a mom’s boy.

“Tell me everything,” she demands, pulling back. “I want to know every little detail.”

You let Percy tell her what’s happened, having your input only when he forgets certain things, like him tripping over a crack in the tunnels, or nearly falling down a mine shaft that opened up out of nowhere. You had caught him only by the strap of his backpack, before it broke off in your hand.

Sally takes a deep breath in when you’re finished with the stories. She slaps a hand on her knee, blinking. “Well, now I know how the Alcatraz incident happened. But at least you’re safe.”

Percy coughs awkwardly. “Yep! That pretty much covers the whole…thing.”

“I wish Paul were here right now. He wanted to talk to you, Percy, about what happened at the school. He wants to get things straight again.”

“What did you tell him?”

You settle back into the couch with a frosted cupcake, accepting that you have no place in this conversation. You busy yourself with the magazine lying discarded where Sally must have sat before you rang the doorbell. It’s open on pages eleven and twelve: THIS YEAR’S HOTTEST ACTORS. That, you can get with.

“What could I say?” Reasons Sally. “He knows there’s something different about you. But he fully believes you’re a good person. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s willing to try to understand. He has to give the school a reason though—he’s the one who got you admitted there. It’s a little bit difficult, because you ran away after the fire broke out.”

Percy exhales heavily. “I’ll tell him properly after we’ve finished this quest. I want him to know.” Percy, willing to open up to somebody after the horror that was living with Gabe.

“You’d do that?” Says Sally.

Percy shrugs. “Well, yeah, but he’ll think we’re crazy.”

“He thinks that already,” she chuckles.

“Then we have nothing to lose!”

“So, what happens now?”

Silence encases the room for a second or two.

“Percy has a plan,” you blurt, and shovel cupcake in your mouth.

“I’m thinking, if we go off of the old myths and legends, we could use a mortal who has the Sight to help us. I know this girl who was at the school induction day, she might be willing to give us a hand.”

Sally nodded slowly. “It might work. You need her to find a path or something?”

Percy hums. “Exactly that.”

“I think it’ll work. Just be careful, all of you. I know you think you’re invincible—”

Percy groans. “Mom!”

“You think you’re invincible!” She repeats louder. “But you’re only nearly sixteen! You’re still babies, alright? Now, go use the phone in the hall. You’ll be fine for a few minutes.”

Percy went out to use the phone, while Sally launched you into another hug, and then demanded you put your feet up for five minutes and watch the television. The Ellen Degeneres show is playing, and you let yourself get comfortable, listening to Sally humming in the kitchen and Percy’s mumbling on the phone. He enters the room and looks your way straight away.

“Half an hour,” he says, “Rachel’s meeting us in Times Square.”

Sally said goodbye at the door with a thick voice and tears in her eyes, and made the two of you promise to drop by on the weekend. You wished you could swear that yes, you would absolutely come around for more cakes and iced coffee, but unfortunately, the world hated you and all you stood for, even though you were barely sixteen and troubled to hell. Percy’s face shone with not just health but pure happiness from being around his mom; by the time you walked into Times Square, that facial expression turned weary.

“Where are we meeting her?”

You didn’t have to wonder for long. Seconds later, Percy pulled you to stop in front of a living statue group, each member showing in shades of gold, green or silver from head to toe. At first you struggled to understand why on earth Percy thought this display would be cool to look at, and then you realised the display was Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

You roll your eyes so hard it hurts. “What. A. Loser.”

“Hey!” Hissed Percy, genuinely upset. “Could you stop it! For five minutes?” He snaps.

You blink, stunned. Percy doesn’t get angry at you, like, ever. Have you really been that irritating that he’s snapped at last? You’re annoyed at life recently, struggling like hell to understand if it’s because of hormones, the quest, or your situation. Or all three factors combined. Most likely, that is it. But how do you explain that to Percy, who is not just your best friend suddenly pissed off at you, but he’s a boy, and he’ll never understand that you don’t want Rachel’s help not just because this is your quest, but the fact that it’s Rachel, and you know from a girl’s point of view, how she feels about Percy. You can just tell. And just maybe you’re jealous.

Still, mulling over this, you get even more annoyed at Percy trying to save Rachel’s feelings. A kid walked up from the taxi stand, tucking away half a sandwich in foil into a bag beside the stand the kids stood on together. When he got into position, Rachel dropped hers with a smile so creepy when it was covered in gold.

“Hey, Percy!” She grinned, completely ignoring you. She climbed down from the stand, and swiped her own bag from behind a sign, pulling the straps over her shoulders to go. Was it your comment? She accidentally-on-purpose pushed you aside, linking her arm with Percy’s. Definitely your comment. “Great timing. Let’s get coffee.”

You followed behind the pair on the path among throngs of tourists and people trying to get to work. Since it was Saturday, the place was absolutely buzzing, and if you actually cared about being hit by a car, you’d have been more mindful of the state of the roads. You stop outside a coffee shop labelled JAVA MOOSE, the interior decorated with a large stuffed moose head on the wall above a couple of round tables and tub chairs, with light wood and orange-yellow light fixtures hanging over the tables.

Rachel takes a seat heavily in one of the tub chairs. You follow suite. Nobody seems to care or spare a second look at the girl coloured gold, or that she’s staining the seats with her paint. A barista behind the counter laughs loudly at something a customer points out. You sit opposite Rachel, Percy falling in next to you.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about my art project,” says Rachel. “So, you’re a half-blood too? Like Percy?”

“Announce it to the world, why don’t you?”

Rachel shrugged. “Okay.” She stood up, then, on top of the chair and everything, and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey! Everybody! These two aren’t even human! They’re half Greek god! And they’re sitting waiting for monsters!”

You cringe. “Well, when you put it like that…but sit down, seriously. You can’t just shout things like that.”

“But why not?” Rachel blinks innocently. “It’s New York. Nobody cares.”

“Can we all get along for a few minutes?” Asks Percy, throwing in a placating hand over the table. “Please? Look, Rachel, it’s the same as I told you before on the phone. We need your help navigating the maze. The last few times haven’t gone so great. Which is why we’re here. Asking you for help. You have this thing called Sight, only certain mortals have it and it pretty much enables you to see parts of our world that you wouldn’t without it.”

“You want me to help you get through some maze that I’ve never been down.”

“Yes. You can see through the Mist, like the mortal Ariadne in the old tales. The Labyrinth won’t confuse you as much as it’s been confusing us.”

Rachel took in a deep breath. “And if you’re wrong about this?”

“We’ll be lost. Either way it’s dangerous so it evens out.”

“I could die. That’s what you’re telling me. Dead, dead and deader.”

“I thought you said monsters don’t care about mortals?” She probed. It makes you wonder how much Percy has already told her about your world. “Your sword…”

“Celestial bronze doesn’t harm mortals! And monsters would mostly ignore you. At most they’ll get a hint that you’re a little different but not entirely. You’ll blend in.”

Rachel looked between the two of you, but mostly Percy. “Alright. I’m in.”

“First thing,” Percy winced. “We need your help finding an entrance into the maze. There’s one in camp but it’s off limits to mortals. You wouldn’t even be able to cross the border.”

“What does this entrance look like?”

“Could be anything at all. A boulder. A run-down storefront. Some wall,” you chip in. “It’d have the mark of Daedalus on it. The Greek L. Delta.”

For once, there seemed to be a shared understanding between everyone at the table. Rachel dipped her finger in a puddle of water at the edge of the table and drew the Delta sign out.

“Like this?”

“Like that. You know Greek?”

She hummed as if you’d said something really funny. “Lol. No. Just follow me to the Marriott Hotel. I’ve got to show you something I think you’ll really like.”

“And that is?”

“I think there’s an entrance to the Labyrinth in the basement.”

wowcher, I was gone a while. any thoughts on our characters this chapter?

taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @rottenstyx

@rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual

@marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol

@twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky

@emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl

@tojismassivemantiddies @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138

@obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m @cxcilla @itzjustj-1000

@sp00kcanwrite @randomesthings @fratbrochrisgf

@prongsflower @bugszi @tired-jaz @mitsuriscannongf @i-love-books-and-the-bible @dusk-reaper

67 notes · View notes

mushyblushyredhead · 2 months ago

Text

TickleTober 2024 🎃

♡ Aug’s TKTober2024

DAY 18: Tickle Fight

“You Can Relax”—an SCP Foundation Story

♡ Also available on my FanFiction! (Autobot-Tiff)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: It is late at night of the weekend Travis sought sanctuary at the SCP Foundation, but he is still anxious to go to sleep. It’s everyone’s favorite SCP, 999, to the rescue. Takes place in its own timeline at the Foundation, in an AU. This is a tickle fic, obviously. X3

TW: Mentions of past abuse.

Travis Blanche belongs to me!

Agent Simon Fisher belongs to my best friend who has allowed me to use their OC for this story. :3

A/N: Apologies if there’s any errors with the French words that are written throughout this story. Although I do not speak French (kinda wish I did) I did my absolute best translating some words and phrases so forgive me if they’re not all correct.

A rather eventful week had occurred for Dr. Travis Blanche and the batch of anomalous kids he had saved. In actuality, the last six months have been nothing but eventful, but not as much as the previous week that took place. So much had happened in the span of one week; teaming up with the SCP Foundation—a place he was told and believed was the enemy—to rescue a group of anomalous children he once took care of who were being physically altered and bid to be used as living weapons.

Despite the many setbacks and near casualties, in the end, Travis and the Foundation had successfully managed to rescue the kids and shut down the evil Foundation for good. Everyone who was a part of that operation were already taken into custody and being dealt with, courtesy of the Foundation. It seemed everything was going to be okay finally, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for someone in particular.

That night, one of the MTF squadron captains, Captain Simon Fisher, had been casually strolling down the hallways in the middle of his evening patrol, when he noticed light coming from one of the lounge rooms up ahead. That’s odd, he thought. Who could be up at this late hour?

Curious, he cautiously peeked inside the doorway and his eyes widened when he saw their newest Foundation member, Travis, was the one awake. He was sitting alone at the lounge table, listening to his Walkman, and clutching a mug of steaming tea with an exhausted and nervous look on his face.

How long has he been up like this? Simon wondered. Is he not happy to be here after everything that happened? He hoped not. After all the crazy things that everyone had been through, the SCP Foundation had graciously offered a permanent sanctuary for Travis and the children he helped save. Although Travis was skeptical about having the kids stay in containment chambers as SCPs, everyone assured him that the kids would all be treated with care, given proper housing and food, and would no way ever be abused like they were before. They even offered Travis a dorm room to stay in at the Foundation site so he could still be close to the kids and see them whenever he pleased.

That seemed to calm his overprotective nerves, but the young scientist still had trouble fully relaxing. It was obvious he was still traumatized after everything they went through. Despite being safe at the Foundation, Travis couldn’t put his overthinking mind to rest. What if the evil Foundation wasn’t defeated entirely? What if they still had another secret base somewhere that they didn’t know about? What if they had more anomalous children hidden underground? What if they would eventually find out where he was?!

Travis clutched his mug tighter, shaking his head. He just couldn’t shake off the fear. He knew from his previous time with these people that they had such volatility. He often compared them to the Galactic Empire from Star Wars; that evil foundation was able to bounce back from scratch like the second Death Star being built. He worried for himself, the kids especially. He would never want to break his promise and put them in any sort of danger again.

In an attempt to calm his anxious mind, Travis tried making himself some maple tea while listening to his Walkman. It was usually a good remedy whenever he couldn’t sleep, except tonight it didn’t seem to be working. He kept taking sips of the hot liquid, but couldn’t taste a thing. His mind just could not stop racing.

Agent Fisher could not bear to watch the poor scientist like this. It was so heartbreaking to witness. Travis deserved a break, just like those kids deserved a proper home and childhood. But even here, in the safety of the SCP Foundation site, he was still scared. And the officer couldn’t blame him. The poor guy probably thought the evil foundation was going to jump through the walls at any moment and harm him. After suffering in that cruel environment for so long, who wouldn’t still be scarred?

But at the same time, everyone hoped that Travis could learn to relax a little at the site now that he was safe. The kids has already settled in their new rooms just fine, happy to call the SCP Foundation their new home. If only Travis felt like doing the same same…

Not wanting the poor sleep deprived scientist to suffer any longer, Simon walked into the lounge room and waved to get Blanche’s attention. Travis jumped, startled, but his body relaxed when he saw a familiar face. Pulling off his headphones, Travis forced a smile on his face. “Oh, good evening, Captain Fisher, sir.”

“Hm, good morning is more like it,” Simon stated back, gesturing to the clock on the wall. “It’s 3:30 in the morning. Why are you still up?”

“Why are you up?” Travis countered back.

Simon quirked a brow. “Because I’m in the middle of my night shift,” he replied as-a-matter-of-factly. “But seriously, is something wrong, Dr. Blanche? I thought you had retired to bed along with the kids hours ago.”

Travis weakly chuckled. “First of all, no need to address me as Doctor all the time. Just Travis is fine.” Simon nodded understandingly. “Second,” Travis shrugged with a sigh. “Can’t sleep, I guess. I…guess I am still shaken up after everything that happened recently. I still have nightmares; nightmares of…them. Of what they d-did to me…to the kids..!” He heaved a shaky sigh. “I don’t know, I just—can’t seem to erase that from my mind. A part of me is still afraid that they’re still out there, waiting to come after m-me and the kids..!”

Travis quickly turned his head away as tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. He cursed himself for getting so emotional so quickly. He hated crying in front of others. But Simon didn’t mind. He rested a delicate hand on the scientist’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately. Travis turned around, meeting Agent Fisher’s warm eyes.

His smile was comforting and his voice was gentle. “Hey, I get what you’re going through. I really do. None of us here are expecting you, nor the kids, to get over what happened to you all so quickly. That’s traumatizing, and that’s not something you can simply get over overnight.” He squeezed Blanche’s shoulder once more. “But, know this: you do not have to carry this burden alone like you did before. You’re safe here, and you know we would never let anything happen to you guys. You’ve got to believe that.”

Travis nodded softly. “I know. I know you all mean well, and I am so very grateful for you all to let us stay here…even after everything before…”

“Hey, what’s past is past, kid. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Thank you. I…just wish I could stop having these nightmares. These people are defeated and yet it still seems like they torment me.” Travis groaned and rested his head against the table. “That’s why I’ve been listening to my music and drinking some maple tea. It’s usually a good remedy when I have trouble getting to sleep, but tonight it’s not as effective.” He sighed miserably. “I suppose I just won’t sleep tonight. But that’s alright…I’m sure I can busy myself for the remainder of the night by working on one of my unfinished projects. Maybe that will tire me out.”

Simon couldn’t believe what he just heard. Travis was really willing to work himself to exhaustion because of his nightmares? He pitied for the poor scientist. But what else could he do? His words didn’t seem to help.

And then suddenly, it clicked. “SCP-999!” He suddenly blurted his thought out loud.

“Huh?” Travis tilted his head.

Simon cleared his throat. “I meant to ask this earlier, but…have you had the chance to interact with SCP-999 yet? Or at least read its file?”

“Actually, no. I assumed since I am new here, I don't get to read any of the files you have for these SCPs like library books."

The agent chuckled. “Yes, well, there’s certain files that are classified for good reasons. But there’s files that newbies like you can read, like SCP-999’s file, for example.” He paused. “Funnily enough, the kids got to interact with 999 the other day and they loved it! They even requested another session with 999 as soon as possible,” he added, as if he thought that would convince Dr. Blanche.

Travis’ heterochromatic eyes lit up, intrigued. “Oh, really now? I’m assuming it’s a safe anomaly then?”

Simon nodded. “Oh, of course. One of the safest and harmless anomalies on this site. In fact, 999 is more than just a safe class anomaly. It’s actually therapeutic; simply touching 999 can bring immediate euphoria that intensifies the longer you are exposed to it. Heck, the euphoria lasts long after separation from the anomaly. Everyone here, myself included, has had at least one encounter with SCP-999, and it’s helped us all greatly when we were struggling mentally. I really think you would benefit from one visit with 999.”

Travis seemed hesitant and unsure. “Uhh…well…I-I’m not sure.”

Simon gave him an encouraging smile. “C’mon Travis. I really think this would do you good. SCP-999 loves all people, but has a special interest in those who are hurt, depressed, or suffering from PTSD. It’s no wonder why it wanted to interact with the kiddos immediately when they arrived here. And I know it will want to interact with you, too. Let 999 help you, Travis…Just this once? If you like it, you like it. And if you don’t, that’s okay, too. Although I find it damn impossible that anyone would be able to say they disliked their encounter with 999.” He chuckled again. “What do ya say?”

Travis gave in with a sigh. “Oh, all right. Just hurry up before I change my mind.” Simon nodded, taking Blanche by the hand and leading him out into the hallway.

A therapeutic anomaly that seems to cure depression and trauma? Well, I’m not at the evil foundation anymore, Travis joked to himself. If the kids enjoyed their encounter with this SCP-999 then maybe I will, too? Fisher would never lie to me. Could this anomaly really help me with my nightmares and PTSD? I guess we’ll see. *sigh* Whatever, just get this over with quickly. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Here we are.” Simon’s voice abruptly snapped Travis out of his thoughts. They had arrived at SCP-999’s containment chamber. While the agent stepped aside to quietly have a word with the security officers and another researcher over comm. link, (no doubt requesting permission to allow him to see 999 at this hour) Travis suddenly grew nervous.

Despite being told that 999 was a safe class anomaly, the thought of meeting an entirely new anomaly that he knew nothing about was enough to make him anxious. Normally, he liked to know at least a little bit of background of an anomaly before he charged headfirst into interacting with it. Now he was really starting to regret not taking the time to read more on 999’s file before coming here. But he had nothing to worry about, right? If the kids said that they had fun with this creature, then he would trust their judgement.

He was snapped out of his thoughts again when Simon handed him a top tab office folder. “What’s this?”

Simon smiled apologetically. “The entire information file for SCP-999. I should have given this to you first so you could read it over. But you can still read it when you’re inside 999’s chambers. Y’know, learn along the way.” He winked, smiling.

Travis blinked. He could have sworn he detected something sinister in Fisher’s tone when he said that. Like he knew something that he didn’t yet. Did he set him up?

“Well, go ahead,” Simon urged. “Go cure that trauma. We’ll be right outside monitoring everything in case you need us, but you’ll be fine.” He and the other security guards seemed to be stifling back laughs. Travis frowned. They were definitely setting him up for something. Why couldn’t they just tell him what it was already? After spending so much time at the previous evil foundation, he grew to hate surprises. Even good ones because in the end, they never turned out to be good.

As Travis stepped through the doorway, Simon quickly added, “Oh, and don’t forget to read that file! Better read it quick!”

Travis shot him an incredulous look, but opened the file nonetheless. Alright let’s see…Item #: SCP-999. Object Class: Safe…Special Containment Procedures…yada yada…File Name…wait WHAT?! The Canadian scientist’s heart skipped several beats. File Name: The Tickle Monster.

He quickly spun around, locking eyes with Agent Fisher, who merely just waved with a smile that said “sorry not sorry” before shutting the door.

This was a setup! He had been duped! Bamboozled! “Fisher!” Travis growled, banging on the door. “You set me up! You…You mother-honking HOSER!”

Okay, okay. Don’t freak out. This…This has gotta be some kind of blizzard joke, right?

Travis didn’t know why, but something about reading that file name quickened his pulse and made anticipatory butterflies fill his belly. Something he hadn’t felt in such a long time. He was flustered.

His train of thought was interrupted when the sound of high-pitched gurgling sounded behind him. He whipped around, his blue and green eyes widening at what was in front of him: a large, gelatinous blob of orange slime with big black orbs for eyes that seemed to shimmer like puppy eyes. Travis didn’t know what to think. This was supposed to be the site’s so-called “Tickle Monster”? It certainly didn’t look like anything he had pictured. But he knew from experience that looks can be deceiving; something so innocent-looking could be extremely dangerous.

“Um…h-hello there,” Travis shyly waved to the anomaly. The creature happily chirped, and slithered towards the young scientist. Travis gasped and backed away until his back hit the wall. SCP-999 emitted a confused gurgle and stopped in its tracks. It suddenly seemed concerned from Travis’ reaction.

Taken back, Travis tilted his head and was surprised when the orange creature mimicked his movement. Curious, he tilted his head to the other side, and it copied his movement. Travis blinked twice, and 999 also blinked twice. Feeling a little more relaxed, Travis knelt down to its eye level. “Huh. Well, you’re quite the precocious little anomaly, aren’t you?” 999 let out a happy coo. “You know, I’ve never encountered an anomaly like you before. I was actually told by Agent Fisher that you could help me with my recent nightmares and PTSD?” 999 perked up, bobbing its gelatinous dome head up and down like jello. “I take that as a yes then? So—oh?”

999 slithered closer to the scientist, extending a pair of orange pseudopods and wrapping them around his neck. Emitting cooing and purring noises, the anomaly leaned close to nuzzle against the young man’s chest. Immediately, Travis was hit with a wave of mild euphoria, just like Fisher had said. But that was not all. Travis also detected something on 999’s gelatinous surface; there was a pleasant odor. It smelled like…fresh pine trees from the forests of his hometown in Canada. Along with the scent of freshly baked chocolate cake from Tim Horton’s, his favorite dessert.

Travis felt like crying, but they were happy tears. All this comfort and nostalgic scents this anomaly was giving him was unlike anything he ever felt before. He let out a shaky sigh, allowing his body to fully relax and melt against the warm embrace. 999 simply took that as its cue to continue nuzzling Travis like a kitten, all the while continuing to purr and coo lovingly.

It wasn’t until he felt 999’s orange tendrils suddenly tighten around his torso that he started to feel nervous. “Sacré bleu!” He exclaimed. “I uh, heh, almost forgot the other thing that makes you so infamous here…Now I’m starting to see why Agent Fisher set me up with this little…play date,” he muttered that last part under his breath.

999 simply chirped and glomped the scientist, ready to engage in one of its favorite activities it was best known for: tickle wrestling. Travis, already anticipating the oncoming attack, let anticipatory fear get the best of him and managed to wriggle out of the creature’s near death grip. Giggling breathily, he stood up on shaky knees to try and escape. Except there was nowhere else to go. He was trapped in a containment chamber with a very playful anomaly that look like it wanted to tickle the ever living daylights out of him.

With a wobbly smile already visible on his face, Travis shakily tried to make a run for it. 999 excitedly chirped, thinking Travis wanted to play chase! It gurgled enthusiastically, beginning to chase after the flustered scientist who, in return, bolted away.

Outside the containment chamber, Agent Fisher and the other security officers were laughing at the cartoon spectacle from their security tablets: Dr. Blanche running laps around the room while SCP-999 followed close behind, trying to grab him with his pseudopods.

“Oh mon dieu! Mon dieu! N-No! Don’t! Don’t you dare!” Travis exclaimed behind him. He heard the creature emit a series of chirps, but he could’ve sworn it sounded like it was taunting him; laughing at him.

He suddenly heard Simon‘s voice from the overhead speakers. “C’mon, Blanche! We brought you here to interact with 999, not to run away from it!”

“Firstly, you never said anything about this anomaly being a Tickle Monster!” Travis shot back as he did another lap around the room. “And second! I am not letting said monster…well…tickle me..!”

“And why not? You wouldn’t happen to be…ticklish, would you~?”

The blush on Travis’s face said it all, yet he still denied it. “N-No..! I’m not!”

“Then quit trying to escape if you’re not ticklish.”

Ohhh how Travis so desperately wanted to make Agent Fisher eat those words. He knew he couldn’t keep running in circles forever; he was already sleep deprived and was losing strength in his knees. Cursed his flustered state. It’s not that he didn’t want to be tickled, he didn’t know if he was ticklish in the first place. Up to this point in his life, he couldn’t recall a time where he had ever been tickled. And now, getting a chance to experience it for the first time, he was trying to avoid it. But yet at the same time, he secretly wanted it to happen. He wanted to experience that silly, uncontrollable feeling that he recalled reading about during his early days of becoming a doctor. Unfortunately, his fight-or-flight instincts got the best of him.

He didn’t have time to debate it any further because he yelped in surprise when something suddenly wrapped around his ankle, tripping him. Whipping his head around, he saw 999 had one orange tendril wrapped around his ankle like a lasso. It chirped and tittered as if to say, “got you!”, and proceeded to envelope its victim’s boot and calf into its gelatinous body.

Travis yelped again in alarm at the feeling of feeling his lower leg being swallowed by this orange slime anomaly. He grimaced. This creature wasn’t seriously planning on eating him instead, was it? His question was immediately answered when his knee was engulfed in the slime trap next. Instead of feeling a row of hidden razor, sharp teeth tear into his flesh, he felt something entirely different; as soon as the orange slime touched his knee, Travis felt a fluttery almost feather-like feeling, followed by a growing bubbling sensation in the pit of his stomach. The urge to laugh.

Qu’est-ce que c’est?! Is this really what being tickled feels like?

Reflexively, Travis began kicking out his trapped leg, trying to free it. Except he couldn’t. He was taken back at how strong 999’s grip was. No matter how much he twisted and yanked and pulled on his leg, he couldn’t break free. 999 simply cooed a response, no doubt teasing about how he wasn’t going anywhere.

Kicking his way out wasn’t going to work. In fact, it only seemed to make the situation worse because the fluttery feeling around his knee simply increased. It spread behind his knee and even squeezed around his knee joint, making him reflexively kick out his other leg that was free. He was worried at first if all his uncontrollable kicking would hurt the anomaly; he didn’t want to accidentally kick 999 in its eye or mouth and hurt it. Fortunately, his kicks didn’t seem to harm the anomaly in any way. Its orange slimy surface seemed to absorb any blows it received, seeming to be indestructible.

Travis stubbornly clapped a hand over his mouth, refusing to crack. Blush was already starting to reach the tips of his ears. Could this get any worse?

Apparently, it could.

999 right away noticed the stubborn scientist trying to muffle his laughs as well as his fruitless attempts at trying to escape on his one free leg. So it simply caught his other flailing leg in its slime, swallowing it, too. It wasted no time and began tickling behind and around the scientist’s knees.

Travis couldn’t hold it back any longer. Having his other leg held into place and subjected to the same tickly feeling behind his knee ultimately made him crack.

“Kkthpbblt..! …MmHHHmhmhEEAAAhehahaha! W-Wahahait! Nohohoho!”

“Well, that certainly didn’t take as long as I thought,” Simon’s voice cut in over the speakers again. “I thought it would take longer for you to crack around SCP-999, but it looks like it doesn’t take more than a minute. Good to know!”

“Ohoho shuhuhut uhuhuhup!” Travis pressed through giggles. He hated to admit it, but he was really hoping he would be able to outlast 999’s playful attack. This just proved he really was a super ticklish person. He just hoped the kids would never find out about this…

999, pleased that its victims was finally laughing, decided to continue and increase the ticklish feeling. Still keeping the scientist’s legs in place, it suddenly leapt on top of him, tickling all over his torso with its tendrils.

Travis let out a rather girly shriek as he felt a weight suddenly on top of him. But that quickly switched to loud, bright laughter when he felt his entire torso being scribbled and poked erratically. There were tendrils squeezing and poking his sides, vibrating against his rib cage, tracing across his stomach, and even trying to slip under his arms. And all the while, his lab coat and purple dress shirt did nothing to protect his sensitive skin.

“WaHAAAHAHAIT! AAAH! HehehAAAHAHAHA! N-Nohoho! AAAAH! EEEHEHEHEEHEE! S-StAAAHAHAHAP! WHAAAA! Mon dieu! OH MON DIEU! OH MON DIEU! D-Don’t you dahahahare!”

Travis frantically batted at 999’s dome head as he felt sneaky tendrils trying to untuck and unbutton his purple dress shirt. Ignoring his panicked request, 999 swiftly yanked up his shirt, undid the buttons, and pushed the fabric aside to expose the pale belly underneath.

999 immediately buried its face against the warm surface, nuzzling and nipping and extending two more tendrils to furiously dig under the doctor’s arms.

“NonononAAAAAAHAHAHAHAO!! ARRÊTER! ARRÊTER! A-ARRÊHEEHEEHEETER!! NAAAAHEEEEHEEHEEHEE!! NAHAHAHAO PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!!”

Travis screeched and squealed, trying to twist away from this evil tickle attack but it was no use. 999’s grip was like a boa constrictor’s. And it made sure he couldn’t escape because any attempt he made, resulted in the creature mercilessly tickling another bad spot he didn’t know about.

The tickly nibbles on his belly made him want to reflexively curl and protect that spot, but the second he tried to curl inward or on his side, 999 immediately dug and vibrated against his spine, forcing him to uncurl once again.

“EEEEHEEHEHEEEEEK!! STAAAAHEEHEEHEE!! S’il vous plaît! StAAHAhap doihihing thahahat!” Travis giggle-whined as 999 made him uncurl again. “Thahahat’s soho nohohot fahahahair!”

999 simply tittered at his response, clearly enjoying the playful suffering it was putting the young scientist through. But it wanted to hear more of his sweet, childlike laughter.

So it inched its face higher so it could bury its face against his neck. Travis let out another high-pitched squeal when the side of his neck was attacked with tickly nibbles. Even 999 simply purring against his neck tickled just as bad.

“EEEEEEHEEHEEHEEEEEK!! NAAAAHEEHEHEEHEE!! NOHOHO PLEAHEHEEHEEHEASE!!”

He tried scrunching up his shoulder to protect his sensitive neck, but that in turn made 999 nibble at the other side of his neck.

Travis gave up trying to protect his neck, settling for trying to guard his torso and underarms instead. The scientist tried to clamp his arms down while attempting to button his shirt back up. Or at least try to get it to cover his stomach once more.

But 999 noticed his attempts, and released his neck, diving back to tickle his belly again.

“Wait! WAHAHAHAIT! NON! NOHOHON! NAHAHAT AGAAAHAHAHAIN! S’il vous plaît! S’IL VOUS PLAÎT! Go bAHAHACK to my neheheheck again!”

But 999 didn’t listen. It came to the conclusion that this was clearly a bad spot for Travis, and that just encouraged it to stay here!

The poor flustered doctor frantically batted at 999’s head like an angry kitten, trying to get it anywhere else but his stomach. This couldn’t possibly get any worse, could it?

One sneaky stray tendril brushing over his navel did it. Travis screeched and accidentally sucked in a breath too quick, he snorted. Even 999 paused its tickly assault to gurgle curiously and tilt its head like a confused puppy.

Blush consumed Travis’ entire face as he hid behind his hands, clearly embarrassed at the weird sound he just emitted. He never even knew could make such silly sounds like that.

Intrigued, 999 lightly brushed over the scientist’s bellybutton. Travis jolted like he had been electrocuted, emitting another muffled snort behind his hands. He frantically shook his head and babbled incoherently as he felt 999’s tendrils peel his hands away from his face, pinning them up next to his head.

“Nonononononono! Oh mon dieu! Oh mon dieu! N-No! Don’t..! Don’t you dare! Don’t! You! Dare!”

999 cheekily tittered, bringing the single tendril back to softly trace circles around his tummy, slowly inching towards his bellybutton.

“Oh MON DIEU! NahaHAHAHAO!” Travis panicked as the tendril traced agonizing circles around the little spot, his tummy quivering madly. His stomach was tingling with so much anticipation; it felt like he just ate a swarm of live butterflies.

Travis tried curling up on his side and sucking in his stomach as much as he could to avoid that evil tendril, but his efforts were useless. 999 simply grabbed onto his hips, and straightened him back onto his back.

“Waitwaitwaitwaitwait! Je t’en prie! NO! D-Don’t..!” Travis screamed like if he was being murdered before laughing his hardest as 999’s tendril plunged into his bellybutton and wiggled rapidly. “AAAAAAAHEHEHAAAAAAHAHAAAA!! OH MOHOHON DIEU!! *snort* NAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAO!! STAAAAAA—*snort*—HAHAHAHAHAAAAAP!! NAAAHEEHEEHEEHEEAAAHAHAHA!!”

Ohhh how Travis hated all the involuntary snorts he kept emitting between hysterics. He wished he could stop, but these accursed snorts were like a dam; once broken, there’s no stopping it. The poor doctor’s entire face was the color of a cherry tomato. His glasses were askew on his face from how much he was whipping his head from side to side. Tears were already threatening to spill from his tightly shut eyes. He was sure his sides were going to split any moment. But yet, despite all that, Travis was actually having fun. He was enjoying it.

He never recalled a time before this when he had genuinely laughed so hard. Well, maybe except that one time where he encountered his first cryptid, but did that really count? It was too short and too quick to even count it as a true experience. Here, being at the playful mercy of SCP-999, it felt different. Intense euphoria rushed through his entire body like adrenaline. In that moment, he couldn’t think of anything else but the ticklish torment. No fear, no nightmares, no trauma, no memories of his dark past, no sadness. Just pure joy. And, of course, the unbearable tickly assault on his navel. So embarrassing…

999 was very pleased that it was able to make Dr. Blanche make that funny, adorable snorting sound. It made him sound like a little piggy! Which 999 just couldn’t seem to get enough of. But it knew it had to stop soon. So, to finish it off, 999 engulfed Travis’ entire torso in its slime, vigorously vibrating its surface; the equivalent of giving multiple big raspberries.

Travis just about died. To him, his entire torso was being assaulted from all angles by these evil raspberries. His sides, his ribs, just right below his underarms, his upper and lower stomach, his waistline, and his bellybutton all at once.

His laughter went silent for a moment before he snorted rather loudly, and laughed his absolute hardest. “…AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHEEHEHAHAHAAAAAA!! NAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! *snort* NOHOHON!! NOHON S’IHIHIL VOUS PLAAAAA—HAHAHA—PLAIT!! *snort* STAAAAAAHAHAHAAAA!! *snort* NINE NIHIHINE NIIIIIHIHINE!! PLEEEEEAAHEEHEE—*snort* JE T’EN PRIE—HEEHEEHEEHEEEEEE!! I-I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE IHIHIHIT ANYMORE!! *snort* JE T’EN PRIE!! JE T-TAAAAAAHAHAHAHA!! JE T’EN PRIE!! *snort* PLEAHEEHEEHEEHEEHEASE!! STAAAAAHAHAHAHAP!! NOHOHO MOHOHOHORE!!”

Hearing the desperate cry and feeling Ike he had had enough, 999 finally released Dr. Blanche. It sat next to him, quietly gurgling while waiting patiently for Travis to recover. Travis laid there motionless on the floor for several long minutes, panting heavily. His hair was a mess and his glasses were crooked on his forehead. He just wanted to get the air back into his lungs. 999 nudged and softly cooed at the scientist. It seemed like it wanted to check and see if he was okay.

Travis slowly sat up, clutching his sore stomach. He fixed his glasses before meeting 999’s concerned gaze, giving it a warm smile. “Hey, don’t feel bad. You stopped right when I needed you to. It’s all good, okay? I actually feel a lot more better now thanks to you, 999.” 999 chirped happily, glomping the doctor in another tackle hug.

“Aaah! Sacré bleu! Non! Don’t go starting this whole little chaotic game of yours again!” Travis nervously joked. As fun as that whole tickle game was, he didn’t want to be the victim of another one again. At least, not right now.

999 tittered and slid down to cuddle in the scientist’s lap, purring like a cat. Travis chuckled and began buttoning his now wrinkled shirt back up. When that was done, he rested a delicate hand on top of 999’s head, who purred louder. Then, just to be cheeky once more, 999 tittered like a gremlin and shoved its head underneath the purple shirt. Travis let out a surprise squeal at the feeling of a purring mouth pressing threateningly against his bellybutton again. “N-NAAAhahao! Pleaheeheehease nohohot again! Misericorde! Misericorde!”

Fortunately, 999 took pity on the poor tired scientist and slithered out of his shirt. Travis let out a huge sigh of relief. He had to admit, despite being tickle tortured for what felt like an eternity, he was feeling a lot happier than he had ever been in a long time. It felt like the biggest weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and he could breathe again. His mind didn’t feel so foggy with nightmares or visions of his past anymore. In fact, he couldn’t even recall his nightmares or any other negative thoughts. He felt genuine euphoria and this mild feeling of optimism; that same optimism that any happy kid would have, like he was sure everything was going to be okay from now on.

“Thank you, 999,” Travis whispered to the anomaly. “I mean it. You really helped me with something I never thought I would be able to let go. Thank you for that.” 999 beamed and happily gurgled as if to say “you’re welcome”.

After all that laughing and screeching and squirming, and being sleep deprived, Travis’ remaining strength and energy had been sapped up. He couldn’t stifle back the big yawns. He longed for the comfort of his bed, but was far too tired to even get up. Even his eyelids were starting to droop.

999 noticed how visibly exhausted the scientist looked so it carefully lifted and cradled him, carrying him to the door.

“Annnd that’s our cue that Dr. Blanche’s ‘play date’ with 999 has finally ended,” Simon stated, nodding to the personnel to fetch their sleepy victim.

“Okay, 999, hand him over. We’ll take it from here,” one of the guards spoke.

999 emitted a little whine and hugged Travis closer. Simon chuckled, knowing that reaction far too well. “Don’t worry, 999. You’ll get your chance to play with Blanche again another time, okay? Right now, he really needs to get some sleep.” 999 cooed understandingly and released the doctor.

Simon helped Travis stand up, and assisted him back to his dorm room. He had to bite back another laugh because he honestly felt like he was lugging a drunk friend back home. “So…didn’t I tell you this would be a great experience? Learn on the job, eh?” Simon joked.

Travis rolled his eyes, blush coating his cheeks again. “Oh, shut up, ya hoser! You’re a filthy, lying…dip twit!” He tried to sound mean, but the smile on his face proved otherwise.

“Aw, c’mooon! No ‘thank you, Fisher, for making me experience my first meeting with the Tickle Monster?’”

Travis sputtered and blushed harder. “Stohohop saying that!”

Simon couldn’t help but tease. “Why? Is it the Tickle Mosnter part that gets you flustered or just hearing the word tickle?”

Travis giggle-whined, burying his face against the older agent’s shoulder. “Staaaaahahahap! Just…stohohop sahahaying thaaaat!”

“Haha! I knew it!” Simon laughed. “It does fluster you! You just seem too adorable to be a researcher here.” He ruffled the younger scientist’s hair.

Travis giggled and batted at the other’s hand before muttering something in French that sounded like cuss words.

“Hey, hey, hey, watch the language,” Simon half-joked. “Or else I’ll throw you back into 999’s chambers and keep you there until tomorrow.” He poked him in the side. “Got that?”

Travis yelped and giggled once more. “Understood.”

“Good. Alright, well get some sleep, okay? We’ll be here for you tomorrow when you wake up, but no rush in getting up early. Sleep in if you’d like. You and the kids are going to need to fix that awful sleep schedule of yours, and it starts with getting proper rest.” Simon smiled and gave Blanche one last hair ruffle. “Sleep tight, kid.”

Travis sleepily smiled. “Thank you, sir. Good night to you as well. And…thank you…for everything. I never would have gotten through this without you and 999’s help.” He paused with a shy smile. “Especially 999’s.”

“Anytime, kid. Good night.”

“Good night.” Travis let out a happy sigh as soon as he closed his dorm door. “Wow…what a night!” He said to himself. “But at least I don’t have to worry about any nightmares anymore. Hopefully. And if not, then I’m sure I can go to 999 again…right? Oh mon dieu, whyyyy am I actually thinking about going back and willingly allowing 999 to…torture me again?! Geez! Now I’m getting all fluttery thinking about it!”

That fluttery butterfly feeling in his stomach came back at the mere thought of getting tickled by 999 again. He blushed when he remembered how Simon set him up with 999 earlier. Then his blush darkened when he realized that Simon and the other guards now knew of his silly weakness from watching him on the security footage. And all of the embarrassing sounds he could make when tickled in certain spots. Ohhh so embarrassing!

Travis just hoped that Simon and the others would keep their mouths shut and not mention this to anyone, especially to the kids. They didn’t need to know about this. If anyone found out, he would never live it down.

Shaking the thought off, Travis changed out of his work clothes. He slipped on a baggy black shirt that read: Area 51 Escapee in bright green lettering, and a pair of light gray pajama pants with UFOs on them. Then, he tossed his worn clothes into a heap by his bed before crawling into bed. He snuggled under the covers with a happy sigh.

Things were definitely going to be different from now on with him and the kids now joining the SCP Foundation family. But they were in a better place now, and they were free. They could finally be happy and together like the found family they always wanted to be. Granted, they were a very strange, albeit dangerous-looking family, but they were a family regardless.

Travis closed his eyes with a smile, dreaming about what games he was going to play with the kids tomorrow as soon as they all woke up.

THE END

#mushy writes stuff #my fic #tickle fic #sfw tickle fic #tickletober2024 #augtickletober2024 #scp foundation tickle #scp 999 #lee!oc #lee!travis #ler!999 #scp au #scp oc #travis blanche #tickle fight #tickle monster #oc tickles #sfw tickles #sfw tickling community

47 notes · View notes