#modnsfw

Not all tickle fics have to be light hearted! >:-3 This was the big project I had been working on. I tried a different writing style and I’m not sure how it turned out.

This is my attempt at writing an angsty tickle fic. I dont know how well I really did. So this is just an experiment! If no one likes it then I won’t write another one. Problem solved. I just wanted to challenge myself ya know? So now I can go work on the three prompts the anons sent in so I’m excited! :3

Without further ado, please enjoy:

Ad'fix'tion

(Ships): Analogical

Words ~ 1,837

(Warning): Tickle fic. Contains Self-harm, suggestive themes, NSFW, sensual wording, and a crap ton of angst, (turns fluffy in the end though).

The world is a twisted place, full of the illusions humans so often call happy endings. He of all the sides knew this the most. Whether it was because he had been the bearer of bad news for so many years, or that he was the only pessimist of the bunch, he did not have the complete answer. Perhaps it was just him blowing things out of proportion, like usual. The other options formed in his head one by one. Through all the excuses, all the complaints, all the sorrow, and pain, he needed an escape. Sadly, the escape he chose had dire consequences.

    Virgil sat in the bath tub, shirtless, gatorade to his right and the knife to his left. Deep inside he did not want to cut himself. Deep inside he wished he could stop. Oh with every fiber of his being did he want to stop, but he was bound. Fastened. Held. Chained to the thoughts that plagued him every single day. He was unable to prevent the thing he feared most from occurring.

    Obeying the command that rang within his very soul, his left hand shakily grabbed the knife and held it up to his throat. It demanded that he not disobey the ritual the darker aspect had performed for so long, lest his grip would fail him and plummet the holder into an endless sleep. A gasp of helplessness pursed the darker aspects lips as the knife moved away from his face, and down to its original target, accepting his surrender of the daily blood offering. Try what he may, Virgil could not utter a single word or stop the trajectory of his left hand, but someone else could.

It all happened so quickly. The bathroom door had opened. A yelling figure rushed in. A separate hand intervened. The hand that held the knife was yanked away, preventing further damage to the shaking aspect.

Virgil stared at the wall, unable to make sense of what was going on around him. He sat paralyzed from the fear instilled in him, until a fourth hand chose his hair as its nesting place.

It relaxed him, stroking the black strands in the direction it was combed, lightly skimming the top of the darker aspects scalp.

Virgil’s body instantly relaxed into the touch. He felt himself regain control over his left hand, the death grip loosening around the tool of torment as it tumbled out of his fingers and landed with a loud ‘Clack!’ on the floor.

The sound startled him out of his trance, his gaze snapping away from the wall and into the eyes of the one who had saved him from his self-torture.

The look on his face displayed one of bitter sorrow mixed with deep concern. Eventually it all faded into a neutral, stern expression, his hand still carting through the darker aspect’s fluffy hair.

“Virgil…” His savior spoke.

“…Logan…” Virgil was barely able to mumble the logical traits name as his worry completely faded out of memory. Logan’s grip slackened on his left wrist, trusting Virgil was free of the madness.

“Virgil. How long has this been happening?” Logan moved his hands and began to caress the darker aspect’s face as the latter looked up into his eyes.

Anxiety took a deep breath, regaining his senses. “Too long…” He was about to stand up when Logan quickly moved a hand on his chest, stopping him from doing so.

“No. Do not move. I will not allow it.”

As defiant as Virgil wanted to be, he huffed and stayed put, looking at Logan expectedly. After removing his hand, the logical trait took this chance to sit on the edge of the tub.

“Please. Talk to me. Why?” With one foot he kicked the knife on the floor to the other side of the bathroom, out of Virgil’s reach.

Anxiety sighed in defeat. “I’m sorry. Everything is better now. I know I have no reason to continue doing this to myself, but I’m addicted to self inflicted pain…and…I’m not sure why. Please don’t tell Patton. Or Roman. I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I used this as an escape from the pain all of you gave me before the incident in my room, but now…I can’t stop.” Virgil stared at his feet, awaiting one of Logan’s lectures, but it never came.

“Do you want to stop?” Logan’s gaze did not steer from his eyes as he spoke.

“Yes!!!” Virgil yelled almost sounding heartbroken.

Logan nodded. His complexion shifted with Virgil’s plea and almost mimicked the same amount of hurt the darker aspect had voiced. “When the skin is penetrated, the body releases endorphins to help it deal with the physical pain.” Logan began, breaking eye contact with Anxiety. “Scientists used to believe that it was only this fact an addiction for self-harm appeared, however recent studies show that it includes much more.”

Virgil lifted his head some, now interested in what his fellow aspect had to say. “Much like porn,” Logan shivered and made a face. “seeing the action of cutting yourself can also stimulate your brain into a pattern of thinking it is pleasing. The same thing can happen when one sees the color of blood. The brain recognizes and connects it with the endorphins being released and logs the color as pleasing to the eye.” Eye contact was restored between the two aspects as Logan finished his exchange of the conversation.

“Why are you telling me this?” Virgil shifted his position slightly in bathtub.

“Because I wanted to bring a logical outlook on the situation at hand. I’m not Patton nor am I Roman. I am unable to comfort or boost your confidence, but if you’re willing to listen, I may have a solution.”

Virgil looked around nervously. From the door, down to his feet, then back up to the Logical traits face. “Sure. I got nothing better to do.” He shrugged hiding his curiosity for what Logan had in mind.

The latter nodded, carefully arose from his seat, and disappeared out the door, making sure to close it behind him. It was not a minute later before he returned, carrying something small and blood red in his fist. Returning to his previous location on the tub, Logan held out the object to Virgil, which he delicately took.

“A feather? And its blood red too.” The darker aspect marveled at it, confirming Logan’s words.

“Yes. It is the color of human blood. Try using this feather in the place of the knife.” Virgil looked at the logical aspect like he was insane. Logan only blinked in response.

Cautiously, Anxiety grasped the feather in his left hand and stroked it over the same area the knife had targeted previously. The tingly feeling that followed could be compared to the same fiery sensation followed by the icy chills when cutting himself with the knife.

Virgil took a moment to process these sensations, before actively running the feather over his skin again. And again. And again.

It was addicting. A warmth spread throughout his body and centered itself in the middle of Anxiety’s abdomen.

The darker aspect found himself chuckling, forgetting that Logan was still there watching him. This was much better than the knife would ever be. And the upside would be he would never cause harm to himself by this method.

Logan smiled and nodded in satisfaction. As he stood up to leave he felt a hand grasp his arm.

“Would…would you like to try?” The logical trait raised an eyebrow, but sat back down as Virgil requested. He then took the feather from his hand stroked it across Virgil’s extended arm, starting from the wrist and making his way up the arm. As Logan arrived at his bicep, Virgil began to giggle. Each stroke that Logan made was getting tantalizingly closer to his armpit. Logan began to smirk, glad that his fellow aspect was laughing instead of screaming in pain.

Once Logan had reached his shoulder, Virgil had tried to clamp his arm shut, but was instead lifted upwards, exposing Virgil’s armpit. Logan moved his feather strokes to Virgil’s under arm, getting even more giggles from the darker aspect. All too soon, the feather wormed its way into Anxiety’s armpit, causing him to snort and chuckle up a storm.

“It appears you are ticklish Virgil.” Logan grinned slightly as he took the feather out of its playplace.

“You think!? You don’t need to state the obvious Mr. Exposition.” Virgil wise cracked, but suddenly regretted his words.

Logan glared at him. “Perhaps it’s best if you keep your mouth shut, unless you are laughing.” Like lightning, the feather dived into a new spot: his bellybutton. Virgil’s chuckles turned into laughter while he tried to push the Logical traits hands away, only to be unsuccessful as the feather continued to twirl mercilessly.

“Lohohohogan!! No stahahahahp!” Said Logical aspect was grinning from ear to ear. He then moved the feather to gently tickle Virgil’s bare ribs. Instantly, Virgil’s laughter increased by tenfold, unable to protect himself because his hands were held over his head.

“I do not want to Virge. This laughter you are emitting is proving to be more enjoyable than the pain you were going to inflict upon yourself. Perhaps, we use this time to release all the endorphins trapped inside of your anxious skull.” And with that, Logan disregarded the feather and began to wiggle one hand over Virgil’s exposed ribcage. If Virgil wasn’t in hysterics before, he was now.

“LOHOHOHOGAHAHAHAHNNNN!!”

“Yes Virgil. I believe that is my name.”

“Stahahahahahahahppp!!!!”

“By Merlin’s Beard, what on earth is happening…in…here…” The darker aspect’s laughter must have caught the attention of Roman, because the royal aspect was now peeking in at the situation at hand. His voice trailed off however and his mouth curved upwards as he saw how happy the two more serious aspects were.

Princey chuckled. “Haha! Oh this is precious!! Well…Patton made brownies if you care for them that is.”

Logan stilled his fingers giving Virgil a well deserved break. “Why would we not care for Patton’s brownies?”

Virgil gave a couple last chuckles. “Yeah. It gives this guy a reason to stop his assault.”

“You were the one who asked me to do it. Remember?”

“I didnt ask you to tickle me! That was all on you!”

“Yes. I suppose you’re right, but if we go out to get brownies I suggest you put your shirt back on.” Logan playfully chucked Virgil’s shirt into the darker aspect’s face giving Logic enough time to escape the bathroom. Once Virgil recovered, he put his shirt back on and ran after him, but not before pausing to look at the knife that laid neglected across the floor. He felt a burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. Though he knew the knife would win him over again, he was sure Logan would help him through each trial. After all, this whole situation could only be described as a growing process.