AN: This movie is a new hyperfixtion for me! I needed to get something out for this!
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Grace was a very touched starved person. Spending all this time in space with no other humans around, it could take its tole on you. Especially when you're only friend was a alien. Grace would always push past his feelings about it. It felt silly to him. A grown ass man getting upset about not getting a hug every now and then. Its not like he got many hugs back on earth, the occasional hug from his students, but nothing much. So why was it bothering him now?
Rocky didn't understand that feeling of being touch starved. It was something he never experienced, even when floating in space alone for 46 years. But he always did try to make Grace feel better, He was his best friend after all. When he was only confined to his xenonite ball, he would try his best to show as much affection as possible when Grace hugged him. And as much as Grace appreciated Rocky's efforts, it was never enough for Grace unfortunately, it didn't feel the same when you were hugging a massive ball.
Grace was sitting on the steps of his biodome home, ig had only been months since he forst got here. He was thankful for everything the Eridians gave him. Making him food he could eat, building this home for him, accepting him with open arms. He was looking out at the beach not to far from the biodome. Grace didn't notice it at first, but he heard something, not the usual bulky rolling from rockys xenonite ball, but a soft patter along the sand. Grace looked up, and he Froze. Here was Rocky, running along the beach, not in his ball, but in what looked like a new suit. "Grace! Grace! Rocky make new suit!"
Grace stood frozen, even when Rocky landed at his feet. "Grace like new suit, question?" The suit was tighter, no longer a ball, but hugged Rocky's frame perfectly so be could move around better. But moat of all, he could touch things. The words stuck in Grace's throat as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. Rocky crawled forward. "Grace upset he couldn't touch Rocky. Rocky fix." Grace sucked in air quickly before it got stuck in his throat again. He lifted his arms shakily. Rocky knew almost immediately what Grace wanted and crawled closer, wrapping his two front limbs around Grace tightly. The moment Grace felt that connection, he sniffled, burying his face into Rockys carapace. "Why Grace leaking question? Does Grace not like new suit?" "No, no I do..." Grace let out a watery chuckle. "I'm just happy..." He wiped his eyes. "Humans strange. Leak when sad and happy..." Grace chuckled again. "Yeah... we are..." They stayed like that for a long while. Grace didn't want to let go, neither did Rocky but the looks of it. Seemed like they were both clingy. Grace wanted to take in as much affection as possible. Not wanting to miss out on it again.
"Rocky want to get closer!" Rocky suddenly chirped "Huh? What? Rocky! You're knocking me over!" Grace laughed as he was knocked onto his back. "Wha- what are you doing?!" Grace laughed harder as Rocky started to try worm his way under his sweater. "Rocky getting closer!" "Careful- hey! Cohome ohohon! That tickles!" Grace could feel Rocky's hands press and squeeze into his sides, ribs and stomach. "Rohohocky!" "Oh yes, Rocky forget Grace is sensitive." But even as Rocky said it, Grace could swear he could hear a hint of teasing in Rocky’s voice. "Then stohohop ihit!" Grace exclaimed. "Rocky trying to get comfortable." "My ass!" Rocky was totally doing this on purpose. Wiggling around and digging his crawls into Grace's sides. "Grace squishy. New food helping." "Shuhuhut up!" "Grace so mean to Rocky. Rocky only want to hug." "IhIhI swear tohoho god, roHOHOHOCK! NOHOT THEHEHEHERE!
Grace shrieked when Rockys claws slipped down to his lower stomach as he tried to push his way up further into his sweater. Grace tried to arch his back as he practically squealed. But Rocky's weight held him down. "ROHOCK COHOHOME OHON!" Grace cried out. This felt so stupid. "Grace so mean to Rocky!" "IHIM NOHOT BEHEHEING MEHEHEAN!" Grace kicked and yelped out in protest. "Liar! Grace so mean mean mean to Rocky! Told me to be quiet!" One of Rockys back legs stomped down as he spoke, poking Grace's hips. "Grace apologise now, statement!" Grace realised how stuck he really was, Rocky was under his sweater. He couldn't exactly reach to stop those tickling limbs, and somehow, that made it feel so much worse. When the Eridian got no response other than squeales and laughter, he brought two claws down onto Grace's hips in a drilling motion. "ROHOHOCKY!" Grace thrashed hard, or as much as he could with the weight on top of him. "Grace apologise!" Rocky pushed stubbornly. He was not stopping until he got what he wanted.
"IHIHIM SOHOHORRY!" Grace hadn't realised how red his face must've been. He thanked the stars Rocky couldn't see it either. The moment the apology left his lips, Rocky stopped. Grace lay on the steps panting. "Ahand I'm the mehean one..." Grace countered as he sucked in air. Resting his hand were he could feel the Eridian in his sweater. Rocky started to wiggle again and Grace tensed for more tickles. But none came. What did however was Rocky's head. (Or what would be a head.) Poking out from the neck hole in Grace's sweater. Grace laughed again at how silly it was.
"You're so dumb..." Grace shook his head with a forced smile. Rocky let out a delighted noise, finally going still. "Grace wanted hugs. Rocky fix." Grace huffed. This was going to be a common thing. He could tell. He should expect more hugs, but even more stretched sweaters.
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Fic inspired slightly by the art above which belongs to @blitzzeri 💙
I know its short but I'm on vacation and wanted to get SOMETHING out before I start my requests when I go home. 🙏
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...huh? oh! hey there!! didnt see you there, creepin in the shadows, fangs glistening, hungry for the souls of the damned! hiiiii! this is another long tickle fic and its for the hit roblox game Pressure!! i hope you enjoy it!!
this is a fic requested by [REDACTED]!! thank you so much for the request!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @august-anon
Feeling the Pressure
Words: 4,072
Pairing: Lee!Reader, some Ler!Sebastian
Warnings: Intense tickles, some foot tickles- also you die!!! tw death
Prompt: Spell
The corridor ahead breathed with that faint, mechanical hum you only ever notice when you're moving too fast. To anyone else, it might have been a suffocating silence, the quiet before some anomaly lunged out of the dark. But to you, it was a rhythm, a pattern. Every drip of condensation from the pipework, every hiss of a pressure valve, even the distant groan of shifting metal, it was all familiar music to you. You've done this run enough times to know its ins and outs.
The Hadal Blacksite was not forgiving, not by a mile. However, if you listened carefully, it was predictable. Every time you died, you knew with grim certainty that it was your fault, and that next time, you would be more prepared than the last.
Your boots scraped across the grating as you swung into another side chamber. Door... 27, if your count was correct. A half-collapsed storage nook, fluorescent lights buzzing like overgrown gnats. Your eyes swept the corners automatically: no shadows crawling where they shouldn't and no misplaced breathing. Clear.
That is when you saw it, lying on a crate in the center of the room like someone had just set it down and walked away.
Not Kroner, and not a breacher either.
It looked like a toy at first, something you'd hand to a kid, except... wrong. A crystalline rod, maybe the length of your forearm, capped with a jagged bulb of translucent glass. Strange grooves spiraled down the shaft like veins, glowing faintly with a pale lavender pulse. Every few seconds, the light shivered, like it was laughing at you.
You frowned, stepping closer. Urbanshade's junk usually looked... clinical, industrial. This was downright whimsical.
Still, you'd learned long ago that ignoring anomalies meant leaving potential tools on the table. You reached out and touched it. Cold... then warm, like it was shifting temperature to unsettle you.
When you lifted it, the grooves glowed brighter.
"...Huh."
The thought came half out of your mouth before you realized it. The weight was nothing, feather-light, almost begging to be waved around. And so, like the reckless idiot every runner is sometimes, you did.
With a flick of your wrist, a burst of air puffed across the crate, scattering dust over the far side of the room. Your eyebrows shot up.
You tried again, this time at the nearby wall. A faint shimmer traced the concrete before fading.
You grinned. "Okay, that's new."
Curiosity always burns hotter than caution. You aimed at a discarded barrel in the corner and gave it a playful swish. The thing vibrated, rattling like someone had shaken it from the inside. You stifled a laugh. This was harmless, whatever it was. Harmless and... weirdly fun.
And then you made the mistake of aiming it at yourself.
A ghost of pressure, no, of fingers, skimmed your wrist. You jerked, biting back a startled laugh. It stopped as quickly as it started, like the wand was teasing you.
You shook your head, chuckling nervously. "A-Alright, that's... a little much."
You twirled it again, amused. Maybe it was like the Toy Remote, one of those anomalies that were more joke than threat. Look, if Urbanshade wanted to stockpile silly artifacts from a clown's reject bin, that was their problem. For you, right now, it meant you had something to play with during the in-between.
And play you did, all the way down the next hallway. You poked it at pipes and watched them hiss louder. You flicked it at the flickering lights and made them spark. At one point, you even swished it at a door, just to see if it would magically open. (It didn't.)
The problem was, while you were amusing yourself, you weren't listening.
The metal scream hit first, the sound of claws dragging down steel from somewhere behind. Then the rush, that telltale hiss of water flooding through pipes at impossible speed. Your stomach sank. Angler!
You darted forward, scanning for cover. The lights in the hall dipped, then blazed with sickly brightness.
The locker! Your eyes locked on the battered storage unit set against the wall. No time to think, just move!
You yanked the door open, slid inside, and pulled it shut. Darkness swallowed you whole, except for the faint pulse of lavender light from the wand still clenched in your hand.
Your breath came shallow. You pressed yourself against the back of the locker, forcing the air out of your lungs, listening.
The Angler thundred past. Its roar echoed down the corridor, rattling the metal skin of your hiding place. For a moment, you thought it might stop. Then, silence. It was gone.
Relief washed through you, but it was short-lived because that's when you heard it.
A wet slurp from behind.
You froze. The smell hit next, like iron and rot, clinging to the back of your throat. Then the sound again, a ripple, a shift.
You tilted your head down, every nerve screaming denial.
Black sheen glistened in the faint glow of the wand. A puddle of void-mass. In the locker. With you.
Your heart kicked into overdrive. The space was too small, too tight. Nowhere to run. You'd trapped yourself.
The puddle shifted, tendrils lifting lazily like smoke, curling toward you. It didn't need to rush, you were cornered prey. Your grip on the wand tightened until your knuckles ached.
The thing inched closer. Your mind scrambled for options. None. No way out, no plan.
Desperation whispered.
You raised the wand, aimed it shakily behind you at the mass. Your hand moved before your brain caught up, flicking the crystal tip in the slightest, most pitiful gesture of defiance.
Light flared.
The void-mass convulsed.
For a moment, you thought it was going to explode. Then you realized it was quivering. Like it had been shocked with a thousand tiny pinpricks. The tendrils jerked, squirmed. The puddle rippled violently, spasming against the locker walls. Were those... squeaks you heard?
It looked... like it was laughing.
You blinked, sweat dripping down your temples. "No way," you whispered.
The wand pulsed again, and the puddle recoiled hard, smashing itself against the far corner of the locker to get away from the unseen phantom fingers tormenting it. You almost laughed yourself, half in hysteria and half in disbelief.
"Y-yeah," you breathed, voice shaking but edged with a grin. "And stay back!"
Slowly, cautiously, you reached for the locker handle. Your pulse still thundered in your ears.
You eased the door open and stepped out into the hall, never breaking eye contact with the puddle still writhing inside.
The moment you were clear, the puddle shot a tendril forward and slammed the locker door shut behind you with a metallic clang.
You didn't look back. You just gripped the wand tighter and started walking.
The door slid shut behind you with its heavy pneumatic hiss, and the first thing you did was collapse against the wall. Your lungs burned, your legs ached, and sweat slicked down the back of your neck.
Safe room at last.
The dim amber glow of the ceiling lights buzzed faintly overhead, the closest thing to comfort this place ever offered. The air was dry here, scrubbed clean of the chemical stench and saltwater tang that clung to the rest of the facility. Your whole body sagged in relief. You'd made it.
You looked down at the wand still clutched in your hand. Its grooves pulsed softly, almost smug.
You laughed weakly, the sound pressing against the sterile walls. "What... even are you?"
A void-puddle tickled into submission. The thought still made you shake your head in disbelief. You could already hear Sebastian's dry commentary in your head: "Ohh, yes, we catalogued that anomaly months ago. Harmless, unless you happen to be particularly sensitive."
Sensitive! The memory of that fleeting brush across your wrist earlier flickered through you, and you found yourself staring at the crystalline tip a little too long.
Curiosity gnawed at you again. You were safe. You had time. And no one was watching.
You sat down on the metal bench, holding the wand with a shaking hand. Slowly, carefully, you aimed it at your opposite forearm.
The glow brightened.
A feather-light stroke traced along the fine hairs of your skin. You flinched, breath catching in your throat. A high, startled laugh bubbled out of you before you could bite it back.
It stopped the second you lowered the wand.
You blinked down at your arm. Nothing there. No mark, no sensation lingering. Just the echo of that laugh in the empty room.
"...Oh, no..." you murmured, heart racing.
Because you already knew what was going to happen next.
You raised it again, this time toward your side. The crystal hummed.
Phantom fingers darted against your ribs, quick and relentless. You yelped, twisting sideways on the bench, a helpless giggle tearing loose. The invisible touches spread upward, brushing against your underarm, then darting down your stomach.
"AhahHAHA! OkahAHAHY okAhahaAY-!" You gasped, lowering the wand instinctively.
The tickling vanished.
You doubled over, panting, cheeks burning hot. Your whole body trembled with adrenaline.
It was real. Not just some silly parlor trick, not just a breeze or vibration. Actual tickling, impossible, entirely invisible, but... undeniable.
And worse... it responded to you.
You swallowed, staring at the thing. Any sane runner would have shoved it in their pack, locked it away until the fishy shopkeep could dissect it. But sanity had fled the moment you'd seen that void-puddle slam the door shut behind you, that monster which had ended so many previous runs for you, now scared of that wand's abilities.
You had to know.
You aimed again, this time at your stomach.
The wand pusled. A dozen phantom fingertips skittered across your belly at once. You shrieked, doubling over, arms wrapping tight as though that could shield you. The harder you tensed, the more insistent the invisible touches became, scribbling patterns that stole the breath from your lungs. It was trying to show you exactly how helpless you were.
"St-StOHoHoHOhOhOP!! OhOhOMyHyHYGohOhOD, StoHoHoHOP!!" Your voice cracked between helpless laughter.
And when you flicked the wand sideways in your struggle, the effect changed.
Phantom feathers now. Silky-soft, draaaagging across your neck, down the insides of your arms. You collapsed onto your side of the bench, kicking helplessly, laughter spilling without control.
Each motion with the wand shifted the sensation. A jab forward sent blunt pokes down your sides, staccato bursts that made you squeal. A twist of the wrist summoned ghostly invisible hands to squeeze at your waist, fingers dancing mercilessly.
It was like the wand was reading you, learning just where to press the hardest. Every flick unlocked a new tickly torment.
Your giggles bounced off the walls, echoing back at you like a chorus. You tried to smother them against your sleeve, but it didn't matter. No one could hear you here but yourself.
"Y-YouhUHUHu're NoHohOt RehHehhEal," you wheezed at the phantom fingers scribbling across your ribs, trying to will them out of existence. "Y-youHuHuhu're- juHuHuhUst- hEhehEHheE!! aAN OhOhOhObject-!!"
The wand pulsed brighter, as though amused.
The invisible touch slid down to your knees, spidering behind them until you kicked out violently, nearly dropping the wand. Your laughter broke into gasps, then shrieks, until you jammed the tip against the floor in desperation.
Everything stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening. Your chest heaved. Your arms wrapped protectively around your middle as if to shield yourself from something still there. Tears stung in your eyes from laughing too hard. Had you ever laughed this hard before?
You sat there for a long moment, shaking, before daring to pick the wand back up.
It flowed faintly again, innocently, like it hadn't just wrung you out like a rag doll.
Your lips curled into a dazed, breathless smile. "Y-youhuhu're dahangerous."
The wand pulsed as you set it down, but your mistake was when you pointed it towards you without thinking. The wand pulsed again, brighter than before, as if it had only been toying with you up until now. Before, it was just testing your sensitivity. You barely had time to register that thought before it hit you.
Phantom hands multiplied.
They came from everywhere at once! Curling under your arms, scribbling down your sides, kneading the backs of your knees until your legs kicked violently against the bench. Another set latched onto your feet, phantom fingers digging mercilessly at your arches and toes.
The laugh that ripped out of you didn't even sound human. It was raw, breathless, bursting out of you in helpless waves.
"AhahAHA!! NoHoHO!! NOhohOnoNOnOnOHOhO!!!" Your pleas dissolved into shrieking laughter. You twisted, rolled off the bench, hit the floor hard, and still couldn't escape the invisible touches.
Everywhere at once!
Ribs squeezed. Toes wiggled uncontrollably as phantom nails traced circles. Your stomach quivered beneath dozens of unseen fingertips. Each new wave layered over the last until your mind fuzzed with static, nothing but laughter and panic.
You couldn't even catch your breath. Tears blurred your vision, stinging hot as they spilled down your cheeks.
You tried grabbing the wand, tried to force it still, but every movement just triggered something new. A jab sent buzzing pokes at your sides. A twist unleashed a storm of feathers under your chin. When you dropped it for a moment in desperation, it only hummed brighter, punishing you with phantom hands clamping at your hips.
You couldn't think, couldn't process. It was like a curse, dragging you deeper into its rhythm. Your body convulsed, rolling on the sterile floor, half-sobbing between shrieks of laughter.
"HAhahAHHAHAHH-!! StHahHAHA- StHahaHAHAP!! PleHEhEHEHEASE!!!" Your voice was shredded, laughter breaking into hiccups.
It didn't listen.
You clawed at the ground, trying to crawl away, but your legs buckled as ghostly fingers dug into the backs of your knees again. Your arms flailed, catching nothing but air. Each desperate motion only seemed to please the wand more!
The intensity peaked, phantom touches everywhere, impossible to defend, your mind splintering into pure sensation. For one horrifying moment, you wondered if it would just keep going until you passed out entirely.
And then... silence.
The air stilled. Your body collapsed, boneless, onto the cool floor.
You lay there, gasping, chest heaving like you'd sprinted a mile at full tilt. Sweat plastered your hair to your forehead. Your uniform clung damp to your back. Every muscle trembled, weak from laughing too hard, too long.
The wand rested beside you, humming faintly, innocent as a lullaby.
You wiped your eyes with a shaking sleeve, giggles still bubbling out uncontrollably in aftershocks. Your ribs ached. Your throat was raw.
"... O-okahahay," you croaked, voice rough. "N-nehever... nehehever again."
Your hand twitched, reaching for the wand, then hesitated.
"M-mahaybe... maybe again lahater..."
The glow pulsed once, as if agreeing.
Getting back on your feet took longer than you wanted to admit. Your legs shook like you were balancing on a tightrope, each step unsteady. You shoved the wand into your belt, still wary of what it might do if you held it too long.
You staggered toward the door. Safe room time was over.
The hallway outside felt colder than usual. Your ears rang faintly, whether from leftover laughter or the facility's hum, you couldn't tell. You forced yourself forward, trying to shake the fog out of your head.
Moving into the next room, you heard it: mechanical whirring, servos clicking.
Searchlights.
Your stomach dropped.
Its massive body floated far above you, gleaming eyes scanning, its harpoons bristling with anticipation. Typically, you would've timed its patrol path, ducked between its blind spots, or maybe tossed an item to distract. Easy.
But your limbs weren't listening. Your knees still wobbled. Your head still spun. Every nerve was fried, twitching with phantom echoes of tickling that weren't even there anymore.
You moved too slowly.
The creature spun toward you, screeching with static. A beam of light shot out, line-of-sight locking onto you instantly. Your heart lurched.
"W-wait, no, I-!"
Too late.
The harpoons lashed forward. Pain exploded through your chest as the world fractured into black.
There was the liminal nothingness between runs, a void, and then, of course...
...Sebastian.
The lamp burned between you, outlining his sharp features in mocking glow. His arms folded across the counter as he leaned in, smirk already tugging at his mouth.
"Well, well," he drawled, his voice like sandpaper dipped in oil. "Back again, and so soon. Didn't make it too far, did we~?"
You winced, heat flooding your cheeks. You couldn't meet Sebastian's eyes. "Got distracted," you muttered.
"Distracted?" His tone wrapped around the word like it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. He slid the document for the Searchlights forward, flipping it open, but it didn't interest either of you now. "How tragic. Shall I hazard a guess at the cause?"
Your blush deepened. Your hand pressed against your belt, and you felt a little disappointed at not finding the wand there, that stupid, cursed wand.
He tapped the counter with a long, clawed finger, smile widening. "No need to confirm. I can see it written all over your face. Whatever you picked up, it seems it had more... influence over you than any other entity in the facility."
Your throat tightened. "It's not like that."
"Mmm." His eyes glinted, unconvinced, as his glowing bulb drifted overhead. "Of course not. You simply forgot how to run properly after spending some quality time in a safe room with some artifact designed for...? Survey says? Pleasure, defense?" He chuckled, low and cruel. "Perhaps something else~?"
You nearly choked on your own spit. "I-! It-! That's-!"
He raised a hand, silencing you with a lazy wave. "No matter. The point stands. It killed you as surely as any monster could have. A pity that you lost it, though. I would have liked to examine it myself."
You slumped, mortified, wishing the dark would swallow you whole.
Sebastian leaned closer, grin wicked. "Next time, try to survive long enough to bring it back to me, hm? I'd very much enjoy... experimenting."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands.
"Distracted," he repeated softly, savoring the word.
The shop lights flickered, mocking you, then went dark.
The next run began cleaner, sharper.
You pushed out of the starting room with your shoulders squared, jaw set. The echoes of the last death clung to you like static, but this time, you weren't letting yourself slip. No wandering thoughts. No stupid distractions.
Room after room, you moved with precision. Your steps were measured, weapons ready, eyes darting over every corner. Entities barely slowed you. You cleared puzzles in record time without backtracking. Your breathing was steady, calm, and collected.
It was almost perfect.
Redemption.
By the time you were crawling through the vent into the shop, you were buzzing with relief. Your pulse slowed and your grip loosened. Seeing Sebastian, lounging in his little room as though the world didn't exist outside his shop, it almost made you smile.
Then you saw it.
On the stand behind him, propped neatly as though it were a priceless artifact: the wand.
Your heart plummeted.
Of course it had come back here. Of course it hadn't vanished into nothingness like other anomalies sometimes did. Of course! No, it was here, gleaming faintly, mocking you with its soft little hum.
Sebastian followed your gaze and smirked. "Ah. I see you've noticed the new addition to my collection."
You swallowed, throat dry. "...Why do you have that?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He leaned back, gesturing to it like a curator unveiling his finest work. "Recovered artifacts always return here, eventually. This one was practically eager." His voice lowered, sly. "I imagine you know why that is."
Heat flared in your cheeks. "Y-you don't-"
"Oh, but I do!" He plucked the wand from the shelf, holding it delicately between his claws like a poisonous plant. "Its properties are fascinating. A semi-sentient anomaly, designed to pacify the monsters of the Hadal Blacksite nonviolently. It seems to respond to stress responses, such as laughter and panic, but especially resistance. Multiplying phantom stimuli until the subject is overwhelmed. Quite ingenious, really. I call it a Pacification Tool, a tickling generator."
The word landed like a slap to the face. Tickling.
Your stomach twisted. Sebastian had said it so casually! As if he were discussing a lock-picking set or a keycard.
Sebastian tilted his head, studying you. His grin sharpened. "Curious. Some runners can endure it with minimal trouble. Others, however..." His bright blue eyes flicked deliberately toward you. "...cannot handle its effects in the slightest."
You prayed that the floor would eat you alive.
"You d-don't-" you stammered, defensive, your voice pitching higher. "You don't know that's what happened."
"Don't I?" He leaned forward, wand resting lazily against his palm. "One moment, you're alive, you find this item, and bring it into the saferoom. Twenty minutes later, you stumble out of the saferoom dazed, breathless, and die to the Searchlights like a novice. And now, you can't even look at this wand without blushing. Tell me again how I'm incorrect?"
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "If you say one more word, I swear-"
"Swear what?" His smile widened, all teeth.
"T-The very next flash beacon I find-"
His face twitched. He tapped the wand against the counter, slow, taunting. "Fine, then. For a demonstration-"
You froze. "W-wait. Don't even think about it-!"
Too late.
He flicked his wrist.
The wand burst to life brighter than before. It recognized you, and it remembered every spot on your body. Phantom hands exploded around you, not just the fingers this time, but brushes, combs, little pokers of air scratching across every vulnerable inch. Your underarms were attacked at once, bristles dragging in dizzying circles. Your ribs jolted as invisible comb teeth jabbed rhythmically. Your feet lit up with flickering pokes, heels to toes, while brushes swept cruelly over your arches.
You shrieked, stumbling backward. "SebAHAHAHHSTIAHAHAN!! HAHAHAHAHAH NONONOOAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Your body folded, laughter ripping out of you uncontrollably. It was sharper this time, more complex, as though the wand was proudly showing off all the new tricks it could do. You collapsed onto the floor, writhing, grabbing at empty air while phantom tools shredded every ounce of control you had left.
"HAHAHAHAH- P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAA-!! G-GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHREE!!!" Your words broke into squeals as something that felt like a feather duster fluttered against your neck.
"Interesting. It really, really likes you." Sebastian's laugh cut through, rich and amused. "It's incredible. I can practically feel how happy the wand is, getting to tickle you again. You must be more sensitive than I thought. Just look at you."
You kicked helplessly, tears streaming down your face, throat aching with laughter. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All you could see was the shopkeeper's silhouette above you, perfectly composed, amused like this was the best entertainment he'd had in months. To be honest, it probably was.
"Oh, I don't think you are." He twirled the wand in his fingers, and the phantom brushes redoubled on your stomach, circling your belly button mercilessly. "For that, you'd have to stand up first."
You convulsed, shrieking, laughter pouring out until your voice cracked.
Finally, finally, the pressure eased. The phantoms vanished, leaving you in a crumpled heap on the shop floor, wheezing and giggling uncontrollably. Your body tingled, trembling with aftershocks.
Sebastian slid the wand back onto the shelf as casually as one might set down a quill. "Effective, isn't it?"
You lay there, sprawled, sweat-drenched, cheeks blazing red. You wanted to be furious, to scream at the fish who had just tormented you. Instead, another laugh sputtered out of you, breathless and broken. "Ihihihi... hahahate youhuhu," you gasped between giggles.
He leaned down low, grin wicked. "You'll thank me later. Now, are you gonna buy anything?" He gestured toward his tail, full of items you'd need for the run.
You glared up at him, still too weak to stand. Then, you turned your gaze to the wand.
Sensing what you were about to demand, he cut you off before you could start. "It's not for sale. Consider it insurance."
You pointed a shaky finger up at him. "Y-youhuhu... are soho dead. Nehext run, Ihihi'm getting you bahack. Mahark myhy words."
Sebastian chuckled, straightening, utterly unbothered. "Uh-huh, right, looking forward to it."
HELP YESTERDAY THERE WAS SO MUCH MENTIONING OF T-WORDS IRL
So, I go to Judo on Saturdays for an hour from 10am to 11am, and usually I train with this one girl, let's call her T
We were practicing one of our moves, which involved escaping a chokehold, and I (lightly) grabbed her neck in a chokehold so she could practice the move and she moved away, scrunched up her neck kinda and said,
"Careful, I'm ticklish"
Then i didn't even know what to do so I just tried again and she said smth similar again and I had no flipping idea on how to respond so that happened
Later, her ear was starting to hurt and she kept touching it. Both me and the sensei (teacher) teaching us at the time told her to stop touching it, bc it will make it worse, but she didn't listen. So, the sensei (who we are quite chill with) said "Every time you touch it, I'll tickle you"
And I just stood there, awkwardly, bc why were they all mentioning t-words now whyyyy
Shortly after, the sensei had to leave us two to help some others and she said "Every time you touch it, [my name] will tickle you. So don't touch it" then left
And I just FROZE UP
why did they have to mention t-words HOW AM I SUPOSSED TO REACT
plus IM BARELY EVEN A LER IM NOT T-WORDING NOBODY
thankfully there was no other mention of t-words that day but WHYY
I'm bored and have a bit of time on my hands; send in a pairing (can be platonic or romantic) and a number! I'll give you my headcanons for them!
1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?
2. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?
3. Who gets cheer-up tickles?
4. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?
5. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?
6. Who can’t take tickle bites?
7. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?
8. Who gives up in a tickle fight?
9. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?
10. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?
Ok I just had a really good idea for a Be More Chill t-word scenario!
So y’know how the Squip has access to Jeremy’s body and nervous system, and he can make Jeremy move and feel pain and stuff?
There is no reason why he couldn’t simulate the feeling of being tickled…
And he can literally read Jeremy’s mind so if he was in a particularly bad lee mood that day, or being extra stubborn about not following ‘adivice’, the squip would know.
And you better believe he’d be using that shit to his advantage, you cannot tell me that computer is not a ler.
Also as a bonus: the Squip holding down Jeremy while he is being tickled by someone else
If someone knows any writers in the BMC fandom, go ahead and tag em! I really wanna see this done now.
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hiiiiii i made another terrible miraculous t-word fic lol
Word Count: 1383
Ship: MariChat
Switch!Mari Switch!Chat Noir
It was yet another night of waiting on a desertedrooftop for Chat Noir, as he waited for Ladybug. Although he knew she was busy being the new guardian of the miraculous, he couldnt help but wish his partner were there with him. Chat missed the nights they shared, when they leaped from building to building; making sure everything was in order. He missed the jokes and remarks they exhnaged.. he missed it all. Then he thought of the most hurtful time he had been stood up by Ladybug, and how he went to Marinette’s place. He had begun to go there more frequently on the days he was left to patrol himself, as marinette was good company, although he could never stay there for very long.
As everything in Paris seemed in order, Chat Noir made his way to the rooftop of the Dupain-Cheng family’s bakery. With a knock on the little trap door, Marinette popped up to answer it. Before Chat had came, she was very busy learing about her new responsibilities as the guardian, but thankfully she had her new kwami friends to help her through the journey. Those new friends of course, had to hide in marinette’s miracle box, which the box itself was safely hidden in a pink dollhouse on her desk.
“Oh, um- hey Chat!” Marinette exclaimed nervously, she was not prepared for his presence, as she was deep into her studies.
“Hey Marinette, Ladybug didnt show for patrol again tonight, and I was wandering if I could hang with you a while to feel less lonely?”
“Yeah! Of course, come on in.”
Suddenly, it hit marinette like a brick that she still had all of her pictures of Adrien up in her room! (not that it mattered, becuase they were for research purposes only, right?)
“wAIT- hold on my room is uhhh- a little messy.. um.. yeah! wait here for a minute.”
suddenly, the trap door was closed in Chats face.
“Shes a terrible liar” Chat thought to himself
“What is she hiding?”
Marinette came back with a nervous smile plastered across her face
“Okay all clean like a bug in a rug! super sparkely- nice haha..”
“Are you okay mari?”
“Oh me? what? pshhh yeah im great”
“ooookay then”
Chat noir climed down the steps into Marinettes vibrant room
“Soooooo what are you really hiding from me?”
“Me? Hiding? Something? I have no secrets from you Chat Noir” Marinette nervously giggled
“Are you suuuuuure?” Chat teased, lightly poking her in the side
A high pitched squeal escaped mari’s lips, causing chat noir to give her a smug look of suspision
“Oh now theres defintley something youve never told me before”
“I have no idea what youre talking about”
“that youre actually pretty sensitive, huh purr-incess?” The blonde teen smirked
“I um.. no-“
without giving Marinette a chance to defend herself, Chat Noir tackled the poor girl to the ground
“cmon chat, were not 5 years old”
“well too bad there is nothing you can do about it” he grinned, pinning marinette at the wrists above her head. Chat proceeded to take his free hand, and start spidering her helpless midsection
Marinette began to buck and squirm “come ohohohon chat noir hahaha” she pleaded
“this is the most convenient way for me to get information out of you, isnt it marinette?”
“nohohohoho theres nothing to hide hahahaha”
“I know how to get you to tell me”
Chat began to dig and wiggle his thin fingers into her underarms
“PLEHEHEHEASE CHAT NOIR NAHAHAHA” Marinette threw her head back in laughter, with her legs kicking out in front
“Please what? Keep going? Sure I will!”
“ILL GET YOU SOHOHOME FOOD FROHOHOM THE BAKERY PLEAHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP!”
Chat Noir let up his fingers to think about the deal
“hmm I could go for a macaroon right about now. I’ll set you free, but the macaroon has to be grapefruit.”
Marinette lay on the ground panting “fine, I’ll get you your grapefruit macaroon.”
She got up to get the treat, and as she quietly went down the stairs, it struck Chat Noir that he may be able to find what she was hiding while she was gone.
Chat looked everywhere, but couldnt find anything interesting. Just as he was about to give up, he noticed a diary free on marinettes desk. As soon as he was able to walk over, he could hear marinette coming up the stairs. He quickly grabbed the book but didnt get the chance to open it.
Marinette walked into her room to see Chat Noir standing very awkwardly, with his hands behind his back.
“No I’m not, I’m just respectfullly holding my hands behind my back. Did you get the macaroon?”
“Of course I did” Marinette extended her hand to give him the macaroon. Although the grapefruit macaroon that she makes weekly was reserved for adrien, she considered making another one another time would be worth it to get out of Chat Noir’s Claws
As he went to grab his snack, Mari realized his other hand was still behind his back. He was definitley hiding something.
“Chaaaaaaat, what do you have?”
“I already told you, I dont have anything.”
Marinette ran behind Chat, and got a glimpse of her diary just before he was able to turn around. He shoved the whole macaroon in his mouth, then held the book high above her head, just out of reach.
“Hey! I need that!” Marinette whined, jumping to get her diary back.
“You didnt read anything in it did you!?”
“Not yet”
“I really need that back chat”
“onlly if you can reach it first”
of course Mari couldnt reach it. She defintiley wasnt short, but she was not near as tall as Chat Noir. She remebered once when she had tickle_ him as Ladybug, so it was definitley one of his weaknesses. If she couldnt reach, shed need to use another method to get back the holder of all her deepest secrets
Marinette scribbled Chat Noir’s underarms, causing him to pull his arms down to protect his sensitive spots
“H-Hey! You cant just- nahaha” He then dropped the book and Marinette put it back in her super safe box for it.
“Now its payback time!”
“What- why? nO-“
Marinette then tackled the flustered cat “Why not? Dont tell me youre ticklish Chat
Noir!” Of course she already knew the answer, but seeing him turn all red and shy about it was just too cute to miss out on.
“God I hate that word. I hate even saying it out loud.”
“aweee but its such a presious word! tickle tickle tickle kittyyyy”
Marinette began to teasingly poke Chat Noir’s sides, and watched as he started to panic
“no mari wait- nohohoho you cahahant just nahaha” he tried to push her hands off his torso, but he was already weak with laughter
“poor ticklish chat, having your weakness used against you and Ladybug isnt even here to help.” She cooed, spidering his tummy
“noHohO I- plehehease I cahahahant! hahaha” Now he was the one pinned with his legs kicking beneath marinette being straddled on top of him
“dont let any akumatized villans find out about your little secret, itd be over for you within 30 seconds! Escpecially around your your hips~”
“hohohow did you- AHAHAHAHA MARI IM GONNA DIIIIHIHIE AHAHAHAHA!”
Chat thrusted and bucked in attempt to get the strong girl off of him, but it was practically useless as he was rendered imobile given his situation.
“MARI HAHAHHAHA I CAHAHAHANT!”
“Ill tell you what kitty, if you say the word tickle, I’ll let you go.”
“BUHUHUT I CAHAHAHANT NAHAHAHA!”
“its such an easy word to say, if you refuse to say it, im just gonna assume that you must like being tickled”
“NOHOHOHOHO I DOHOHOHONT”
“then say it.” Mari grinned down at him
“TIHIHIHIHI NAHAHAHAHA” Chat Noir’s laughter went silent
“okay fine you were close enough” she sat on the floor next to him and played with his hair as he still giggled out the phantom tickles
“youre sure protective of that book arehehent you?”
“eh, it was mostly just an excuse for me to get you back.”
“thats so mean.”
ty for reading! If you have any story requests pls send lols
For once in my life, I don't feel touch starved. Perhaps it sounds like nothing huge, but it's just so different. I've been receiving so much platonic affection (and a few t-words) lately that I'm just completely happy for once. I love this feeling.