#sfwtickles

Person A; EEEEK!! Nohot there!!

Person B: D'aww, you're silly ♡. I didnt know you were so ticklish!

Person A: HEEHEEHAHA — NOT MY RIIIIBS — HEHE — HELP!!

Person B: Hehe, who're you callin' for, ya goof?

Person A: YOUHOU'RE THE WORRRRST

Person B: I can't take you seriously when youre giggling like a little kid. Does baby talk getcha too? ... gitchie gitchie coo ~

Person A: EEEEEHEEHEE!!

"There you are," the deep voice spoke menacingly, "Coward."

Oh no. Odysseus had heard that voice before. Years and years ago, when he still had his crew, before he got trapped on Ogygia with Calypso, before he fought Charbydis. He knew that voice. It was one he'd never forget. The man who killed most of his crew, the man who showed no mercy unlike what Odysseus had shown his son. No - not a man. A god. The God of the Ocean.

"I've been waiting for this moment. For the perfect time to strike." Poseidon's deep voice rumbled around Odysseus.

The man held onto his handmade raft for dear life. Silently praying to the other gods to keep him safe.

"When your home's so close and you've reached your coast; that's when our paths collide." Poseidon's body emerged from the tides, glaring a deadly look at the worn king. "I've got a reputation, I've got a name to uphold. So I can't go letting you walk or else the world forgets I'm cold." The god of the seas points the prongs of his trident towards Odysseus' stomach. "Now get in the water."

Odysseus listened to the god's words. He was so close. So close to home, to his wife, to his son, to his people. The gods just loved messing with him, didn't they? Let him get close enough to see the shores of his homeland, and then prevent him from getting there. First, it was Athena, abandoning him for having mercy on the cyclops. Now Poseidon wanted to mess with his head, too. He could hardly handle it anymore. All he had was a dinky raft and the dirty clothes on his back. Why now? Why, when he was so close to getting home?

"Get in the water." Poseidon repeated. "Or I'll raise the tides so high, all of Ithaca will die," He pressed his trident into Odysseus' stomach. The man stepped backward on instinct.

The god of the sea should really, really stop poking him with that trident. The prongs of the trident were sharp, but not too sharp. Instead of hurting or drawing blood, it felt like someone's nails were pressed into his skin. And oh gods, did it tickle.

"Wait," Odysseus pleaded.

"Get in the water." Poseidon cut him off.

"Stop this, please!"

"I'll make tidal waves so profound, both your wife and your son will drown."

"No!"

"Get in the water!" Poseidon demanded, shoving the sharp trident further into his stomach. Odysseus squeaked at the tickly poke, realizing a second too late that he gave himself away. He slapped a hand over his mouth, praying to the gods that Poseidon doesn't notice, that he thinks the sound was just some of the wind hitting the raft weirdly, that him putting his hand over his mouth was a product of him being upset and not wanting to lose his family.

But Poseidon did notice. He noticed the squeak, and the hand Odysseus put over his mouth to stop the noise a second too late. He was confused by the mortal's sound, by his action. Why would the mortal make such a noise? Then, Poseidon remembered the step back from the trident. Curiously, he pokes the man with the prongs of his trident again.

Odysseus stepped back again, looking up at Poseidon warily.

"What's this?" The god asked, his tone lilted.

"What's... what's what, Lord Poseidon?" Odysseus asked, feigning ignorance. The god of the sea was not amused.

"Your steps back. Your noise. Your hand over your mouth. But only when my trident touches you. I wasn't even pressing that hard. It couldn't have hurt you."

Odysseus wasn't sure what to say. He could lie and say it did hurt, but then he'd look weak. Pathetic, even, in front of this god that already wants him dead. Or, he could tell the truth. And admit to Poseidon that it felt like a tickly poke. But he was the King of Ithaca. No way would he admit he's ticklish. He had a reputation. Maybe not one as grand as Poseidon's, but a king couldn't be reduced to something as childish as a ticklish boy.

Of course, Poseidon was far from stupid. He was a kid once, many years ago. He had two brothers and a whole ton of nieces and nephews. He knew that his trident could be a bit ticklish, if he poked gently enough, and in the right spot. He didn't mean to tickle Odysseus, of course. The wretched, cowardly mortal had blinded one of his sons.

Perhaps, Poseidon mused, this could be used to his advantage.

"Are you ticklish, Odysseus of Ithaca?" He asked, rather bluntly.

Now, Odysseus was no stranger to this question. He had many friends over the years, he had Penelope back home. Unfortunately, even with all those times being asked, it never got any easier to answer. Maybe he should lie, to save his pride? No. He's lied before, and it's only ever gotten him tickled, and teased relentlessly. It's probably an even worse idea to lie to a god, not to mention that Poseidon is one of The Big Three. Maybe he should tell the truth? No. It'd be awkward, and he'd be teased for being a ticklish king. A king should try to preserve his pride and reputation.

So what option does that leave?

"I am a king, just as well as you. I, too, have a name to uphold. You may not tickle me."

"Oh, I 'may not,' hm? Well, that's just too bad, little mortal. Because I will teach you a lesson, some way, somehow. Regrettably for you, I believe I've just found the perfect means to do so."

Poseidon shrunk down his form, still towering over the mortal, joining him on the raft. Odysseus scurried as far away from the god as possible. It was a little raft, built by only his hands, so it wasn't very far.

"Lord Poseidon, surely we can talk about this? You are a civil god. You seem to want to do right by your child. I want to do right by my child, as well. So, I need to get home to him."

"Ah, trying to get out of this, are you?" Poseidon chuckles, inching closer to the mortal. "No."

Poseidon grabs Odysseus' ankle, hauling the man into his lap. Then, he pulls the smaller one up so his back is against his chest.

The King of Ithaca is immediately squirming, fighting to be released from the hold. Poseidon may very well drown him, here and now. But he couldn't die. Not when he's this close to getting home. Not when he's this close to seeing his wife and son again.

"No! Let me go!"

"Hey- stop moving!" Poseidon demands and grabs his wrists. He yanks the smaller king's wrists, pushing them into his chest. "Stay still."

Odysseus was scared out of his mind. Here he was, tired, hungry, and dirty, on a tiny raft, almost home. Now he's stopped by Poseidon, held in his lap like a toddler. Poseidon, who had wanted to kill him for about a decade now. Why wasn't he just getting it over with? He's going to kill him, if only to avenge his son, he needed to escape.

"I'm not going to kill you."

Odysseus freezes. Did he say all that out loud?

"I think humiliation might teach a better lesson to a cocky and quick-witted soul such as yourself."

"What?" The king of Ithaca asks. And then feels a tweak on his side. The first of many. "Wait- wait wait wait-"

Poseidon had to admit, it felt good to watch the mortal squirm. It was nice to finally get revenge on him for blinding his son, albeit in an unconventional way.

"Why should I, hm?" Poseidon asks, using the hand that wasn't holding Odysseus' hands to his chest to pinch gently up and down his sides. He leaned close to the mortal's ear, whispering, to blow air on it so he'll shiver. "Why should I grant you mercy, when you didn't give my son mercy? And now he has to suffer through life, blind as a bat? Mourning the sight he once had? Now he can never see his friends again, you know."

"We were trying to get away! We only hurt him to disarm him! Stop that!" Odysseus says quickly, getting the words out before the laughter could come. He would not laugh in front of the God of the Sea. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You said that last time. And no, I won't stop it."

"Poseidon!"

"Hm?"

This was it. Odysseus well and truly hated the sea god now. There was no way this was happening. It must be a dream, or some hallucination from the lack of people around. He tried to squirm to the opposite side, but Poseidon's fingers just followed him. But he wouldn't laugh. Wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Stop it!"

"No."

The mortal groaned. Trying to lean his body away. Maybe he could roll out from his stuck position. But Poseidon was stronger than him, and kept him mostly upright, his hands still pinned to his chest.

"Stay still, mortal. I need to teach you a lesson."

"I learned it already!"

"No, clearly you haven't."

"I learned more than you!" Poseidon pauses at the mortal's words.

"Oh, have you now?" Poseidon offered a chance to redeem himself. But Odysseus just loved to dig his own grave.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah?" Poseidon leans down to growl in his ear. He was going to use the type of teasing he used to use to get his niece, Athena. "Then how about you explain to me how I should tickle you?"

"What?"

"Explain how I should tickle you."

May the gods help him. Athena used to do this to him. He didn't understand it, never knew how to answer. He couldn't very well answer that question truthfully. He'd never live it down. No, he'll just say what he does when it's Athena tickling him.

"I don't know if you're qualified to tickle me, with how ticklish you are."

The dark chuckle that rumbled against his back was all Odysseus needed to realize he messed up.

The squeezing fingers on his lower tummy only confirmed it.

"Wait!" Odysseus pleaded.

"Not after that comment." Poseidon tutted. "Maybe if you were kinder, I'd consider it. But no, you just had to go and say something like that."

Odysseus wouldn't laugh. He wouldn't. Not as the god of the sea was tickling him. Not the one guy who had killed most of his crew. But dear gods, it was hard.

"Wait!" Odysseus tried, but then closed his mouth. He realized that if he kept it open, he would start to laugh. He was absolutely not laughing. No. He wouldn't let Poseidon win.

"Nope. You've gone with no repercussions for far too long. Now, it's time to face the consequences of your actions." He moved his hand to gently start brushing his fingers over Odysseus' ribs. The other hand still holding the mortal's hands to his chest.

Odysseus arched his back, biting his lip. The fingers made his nerves spark with energy, made his lungs bubble, and fill up with laughter.

Poseidon was amused that the mortal was fighting his laughter so valiantly. Of course, it wouldn't last forever. He just had to be patient. It seems like his ribs were a good spot; he'd just stay there for a while. Skittering and poking and spidering.

It was when he dug into a divot between two of the bones that Odysseus broke.

"No- nohoho- wahahait!" He squirmed, trying to get his hands back from Poseidon's grip.

"Couldn't hold out any longer? And you call yourself the reigning king of Ithaca. Pathetic." Poseidon asks, a healthy bit of condescension in his voice.

"Poho- Poseidon!"

"Hm?"

Odysseus wasn't really sure how to respond. He didn't quite know what to do in this situation. How could he respond? Tell him to stop? He wouldn't listen. Athena usually tickled him to cheer him up, or when he was being a bit too cocky. But she always stopped when he was done. He was a little worried Poseidon wouldn't stop when he was done, which was making him even more anxious. Athena knew his limits and would stop once he was pushed too far. Poseidon didn't know his limits. Or he did, but he wouldn't care. This is all for revenge to him. It wasn't playful revenge, either.

"What is it, mortal?"

"Gehet- off!" Odysseus tried to squirm away again, but Poseidon held him still.

"Hm... no. Let's see if we can find your tickle spot, shall we?"

"NO!" Odysseus protested loudly, but Poseidon didn't listen. He tried the mortal's armpits, making him giggle and press his arms to his sides as much as he could. "Nooohohohoho!"

"Does it tickle here? Hm?" Poseidon asks.

Odysseus shook his head no. The god might've won the game of not laughing, but he couldn't force the king of Ithaca to admit he's ticklish.

"No? It doesn't tickle? That's too bad. We'll have to try another spot, then." He removed his hand from his armpit, instead fluttering his fingers over his neck and collarbone. Odysseus tried to shrug up his shoulders, as if that would help. He tilted his head to the side the fingers were wiggling on. But that only exposed the other side of his neck. Poseidon seized the opportunity to gently nibble on his neck. Odysseus squeaked, not expecting this.

"Naha- nohoho!"

"Mm, so tasty." The god teased, rubbing his beard over the mortal's neck. Still holding Odysseus' wrists, Poseidon moved his other hand down to his hip to squeeze.

The king of Ithaca was so embarrassed by his reaction. He tried to kick out, but that didn't work because the god's legs were crossed on top of his. He tried pressing backwards, but of course Poseidon's body was there, preventing him from escaping. So then he tried bucking his hips up, only forcing Poseidon's evil fingers deeper into his flesh. It tickled so badly, it felt like his nerves were lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. The tingly feeling shot up his spine, laughter bubbling in his chest.

"Wahait! WAHAIT!" He begged. He was playing it up a little bit. His hips weren't his worst spot. It was up there, but certainly not his worst. But if he could convince Poseidon that they were, maybe he wouldn't find his real worst spot.

"Why should I wait? You seem to be having so much fun. Just listen to all that laughter."

"Ihihi'm NOHOHOT!"

"Sure. Whatever you say, mortal." Poseidon let go of Odysseus' hands, and now both hands are squeezing his hips. He presses his thumbs into the divots, massaging in little circles.

Odysseus didn't even realize his hands were released. All he could focus on were the tickles. He didn't even realize he could move his hands now. He was feeling giddy and elated. Maybe the tickles weren't so bad. He soon noticed that his hands were now free, and moved them to grab at Poseidon's wrists.

"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to move your hands."

"M-myhyhy brahahain! Ihit's fuhuzzy..." Odysseus tried to explain.

"Is it?" Poseidon clicked his tongue in mock sympathy. "Poor mortal. You just can't stand it, can you?" Poseidon moved his hands down to squeeze at his thighs.

That's when Odysseus lost it.

He screamed, going silent for a second.

"WAHAHAIT- STAHAHAP, PLEHEHE-!" His desperate pleas were interrupted by hiccups, his body needing more air.

"Oh, is this your spot? How pathetic. The King of Ithaca, captain to all those men, godlike general in the war- and yet, you cannot handle being tickled. You're weak."

Odysseus couldn't handle it. He tried to squirm away, tried to get him to stop. Soon enough, his laughter went completely silent. Only hiccups broke through, his lungs desperate for air.

Poseidon realized this was a genuine problem. Mortals needed to breathe. So he stopped, simply holding him instead.

"I forgot that you mortals need to breathe." He spoke hesitantly. He knew it was his mistake.

"It's... okahay..." Odysseus said, riding out the giggle high. "It... thahat tickled..."

"As it was supposed to." The god rubbed his arms comfortingly. "Take a moment to breathe... I believe you've been humiliated enough. You've learned your lesson, right? Don't go blinding my sons. Or daughters, for that matter. And showing "mercy," as it is ruthlessness in disguise."

Odysseus nods, not wanting to be tickled anymore.

"Then I believe my work here is done." Poseidon lowered him to rest on the raft, and stepped down into the water.