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kanene-yaaay · 5 months

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Secrets and the Pros and Cons of Not Running Away

Kanene's notes: I will receive no constructive criticism on this, I saw a character that just keeps being destroyed over and over because he loves and cares too much and since mah bros on that island only SUFFER, I *WILL* take the matters onto my own hands and give them all the tickles and fluff thank you so much for understanding.

Anyway, the Happy Pills Arc is my absolute fave until now, and this animatic is my new obsession. It doesn't has anything to do with the fic, really, but I think it deserves more love drtyuiklkjhg.

Warnings: This is a tickle fanfic. It has hurt/comfort, fluff and some angsty thoughts, but nothing too dark. It happens after the Happy Pills stuff and doesn't follow the canon timeline. Ticklish!Forever and Ler!Philza, Ler!Bad, Ler!Pac, Ler!Mike, Ler!Richarlyson, Ler!Tallulah and Ler!Chayanne. It is 8,000 words long.

[~*~]

Forever woke up.

His eyes hurt when they opened so he kept them closed for a few minutes more, watching the flash of memories run behind his eyelids in blurry movements and sounds.

For the first time in a while his mind was silent, clear from all the effects of what the Federation did to him. His feelings no longer exploded crazy in his chest as they often did during the last few days, fighting to survive before the chemicals from the drugs washed them over and got suppressed by a blinding, fake happiness.

Their kids were gone.

Richarlyson was gone. His son disappeared in thin air and there were no clues or hints that showed any single way to get them back or even know where they went.

The island was in scrambles, empty.

There were explosions and grieving and chaos everywhere. Every parent doing any and everything to cope with the fact that from day to night they’ve got what was the most important for them ripped right from their fingers.

The N.I.N.H.O, his project (his responsibility) didn’t work out this time and they lost everything because of it.

Badboyhalo was losing his colors. Baghera disappeared. Cellbit straight out begged him to not leave him alone during all of this. Mike hadn’t been seen in a long time. Etoiles was trying to keep their hopes up. Everyone asked him what they should do, now. What would he do as their president.

And what did he do? He fucking lost it. He let his feelings get over his head, exploded everything that he could put his eyes on, demolished his base with TNT and threatened Cucurucho, forced the Federation to do a throwback just so they would have an island to put their feet on. Made the Federation see him as a threat and force those pills on him.

He left everyone. His family. His friends.

(What more could he do?)

And everyone should've left him too.

…

And yet…

And yet Pac jumped head first to save him. Accepting to go under Cucurucho’s “treatment” so he could analyze the drugs and find a cure for it. No matter how much he was shaking in fear the entire time, how bad the Federation treated him before or how there was just no certainty that his plan would even work

And yet Philza saw under his mask of smile, past the point of his gun and right into the pain in his eyes in his lowest moment and said that everything would be fine, that he still trusted him, that he knew who he was and how much he cared about the eggs. He said they would find a way to solve things out.

And yet Cellbit didn’t let him go for a single second. He followed him no matter the instability, during those painful moments of consciousness, beyond the fake minutes of happiness and slipped past his traps just to go and pull him out of it. He shouted and hugged and taunted and broke and fought dirty and did what he could to bring him back.

And yet Bad still talked and answered him, even with how much he was hurting, even with the bombs and screams and the dismissing he came back over and over again with his chats and banters and discussions that so easily led Forever to the trap that would come to save his life.

Once again, there were tears in his eyes.

They were too his family. Forever was the one who put himself under Cucurucho’s radar by going apeshit and bombarding the entire island and they were the ones who saved him from that white fucking bear. From himself. From the Happy Pills.

He cried.

(What else could he do?)

Agony and hope danced in harmony in his chest, sucking all his other senses to nothing and filling his soul with every emotion under the sun at the same time. It was overwhelming but good to be free to feel so easily. It was horrible that he knew how it was like to miss this freedom so much. It was empty to feel this despair all over again. It was good, no, essential to know he was not alone.

Almost hopeful, even.

And yet their children were gone.

And yet everyone was kind of lost.

And yet they needed someone solid, a strong leader to step in.

Forever didn’t feel strong.

(What would he do?)

He wiped his tears. Sat on the bed. Got up. Put back the flag on his shoulder. Took a deep breath, listening to the very known voices coming out of the infirmary that made his entire face change to a (this time genuine) happy, tired and relieved kind of smile.

The president of Quesadilla Island woke up.

(And he didn’t have any idea of how much everyone had been waiting to show him how much they were happy about it.)

[~*~]

It all started in very tiny ways, as most things did, easy to miss if you didn’t know where to look.

The first time it happened Forever was at favela. He had just finished fixing the elevator from the Karaoke and was watching the sunset (Hi, Bobby) wash over the beach in a dance of colors at the top of the building, resting on the parapet. Pac was somewhere close, building more houses or getting in trouble with Fit, but, besides them, it was just him, his memories and Copacabana beach.

Forever laid his head in his arms, with a long sigh, closing his eyes and just letting the wind mess his hair and clear his thoughts, enjoying the brief moment of peace before he started thinking about more plans and projects to fill his day and mind with.

It was hard, though. When every block he put down or decoration he pulled up made the blonde turn around with a call in the tip of his tongue, words disappearing when he realized that there was no set of small footsteps following him and probably never would again because they were all gone and he was not and how could he ever even think about-

A shiver ran down his spine and made his thoughts come to a halt when he felt a light tickle in the back of his neck, making him have to move a hand out of his comfortable position to wipe the leaf or whatever out of his skin.

His fingers made contact with nothing. Uh. Must’ve flown away already.

He was tired. Maybe he should take the rest of the day to clean his base. There were still holes from the mine traps that someone has been spreading across the island lately. Another problem for him to resolve. Looked like those were never going to end.

The tickle came back, following him even when he flinched away, with a puffed snicker falling from his tongue. His hand shot to scare whatever insect it was from his neck again but the touch was as nimble as it was soft, lightly and skillfully dancing away from his hold before it could catch him.

“Que porra.” (“The fuck.”) He tried again and again, going so far as slapping his entire arm behind him, hitting nothing.

The sensation disappeared for a brief while before running all the way across his spine, making him almost jump in the air and finally give up his comfortable position to spin around. “Que que é isso, cara!” (“What is this, man!”)

“Pfff- hahaha!”

Forever turned just in the right moment to see his short friend, with sky blue eyes shining with a playful light, pulling a black, crooked and beautiful wing behind his back, his laugh ringing across the building.

“Philza! Really?”

“What? You wouldn’t have that problem if you wore a shirt, you know?” Forever’s shouted “WHAAAAT!” did nothing to alleviate his laughing fit, a snort not taking long to appear.

“You, you’re, you’re bullying me, man! I just came out of the hospital and you treat me like this. I can’t believe it!”

“You’re-”

“You come here, you hit me, you don’t let me rest after I get out of a coma… I am an injured, man, you know that, Philza? You’re bullying an injured man.”

“I literally,” his tune tried and failed to sound at least a tidbit serious before he descended in more laughter. “I literally didn’t even hit you!”

Forever continued as if he didn’t hear the protest of the other, turning around and gesticulating dramatically. “You’re a bully, Philza. You’re such a bully.”

“I am doing that to remind you to put on a shirt! You just came out of the hospital, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Nah, nah, nah, you’re mean. You’re just so mean to me. Like, I thought we were friends, you know? But I see the truth now.” He tsked. “That is just sad, Philza. That is really sad, man.”

“Oh my fucking god.” The punch he gave on Forever’s arms didn’t even hurt, only making the president snicker louder. “Shut the fuck up.”

Forever chuckled at how done the other sounded, watching him roll his eyes and shake his head with a big smile before taking (he wasn’t resting anymore so might as well just finish his work here) the chance and walking in between the tables and chairs until he got behind the balcony. In no time he began filling the storage with drinks and food. The high, upbeat joy of banting with his friend slowly calming down.

“Actually, I am going to put back my old black suit soon. I am just taking a break from wearing suits so much, you know?”

He didn’t have to explain what the break was really for and how his old presential clothes didn’t have anything to do with it, Philza understood.

“Take that time off, Forever, you deserve it.” His tune was soft.

Forever smiled, wishing he could show Phil how wrong he was. A“break” definitely wasn’t on the list of things that Forever deserved at all. That anarchist was way too kind.

“Thank you very much, my friend.” He closed the cabinet door, turning around (and away), facing the entire restaurant.

Each chair, each color and decor had been carefully picked by small , gentle claws. The building had been chosen by hand and even the balcony was built lower than normal, made so that a small child could go behind it and pretend to be a barman, sing with the melodies and enjoy the view with their family and friends.

Signs were still spreaded there, on the restaurant, the rooms, the favela, the N.I.N.H.O, the Spawn, their home and island… None of it had been built to be just for the adults and it all brought a longing pang in his chest.

Saudade.

They’re gone. They’re gone and he was here laughing and resting and doing nothing to rescue them and how could he be so usele-

Another soft sweep of feathers right under his chin made him flinch away with a surprised, bitten giggle, successfully making his line of thoughts disintegrate for a second time. A half smile painted his face.

“Stop with that, man! It tickles.”

Philza tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes sharp in concentration, as if just realizing something. But at the sound of Forever’s voice he blinked and let his expression become a tad more relaxed, with worried tunes.

“You just seemed to be thinking a whole lot back there. What is in your mind?”

“Nothing really important. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I’ve got some bad news for you then, mate. Because it will matter to me. You can tell me anything, Forever.”

And for a moment the other considered not doing that. Teleporting away or brushing his worries with another topic or a joke. But that was Philza.

Philza, one of the most protective parents who still trusted him with Tallulah when he was away. Philza, who didn’t care about the elections but voted for him anyway. Philza, who trusted him with such a conviction and an unyielding loyalty that Forever had no idea of what he could ever have done to deserve it.

(“You saved my children.” Philza would say if he could listen to him. “You went beyond and further to save everyone’s kids for free over and over so no parent would ever carry the grief of losing them again. You did it for Richarlyson, for Tallulah, for Bobby, for Pomme, for you, for us, for free. I’m not forgetting that easily and I’m not letting you forget too.”)

And that was enough.

He stared at the beach again, the words coming easier when he was not looking at the other.

“Talullah was the one who decorated the restaurant. We were having a Karaoke Night and when we got up here she had already put all those nice trees and pretty flowers…It looks really nice.”

Philza sighed, looking ten thousands of years older.

“Yeah, she has an amazing taste.” Then he walked and stayed right in front of Forever’s view, staring right at his eyes, serious. “We’re going to find them, ok? Richas, Talullah, Chayanne, Ramon… Every single one, we’re going to get them back. So don’t let yourself give up and stay focused.”

The president, his friend, nodded.

“We will get them back.” Forever agreed. “No matter what it costs.”

[~*~]

But Philza was a discreet fella, so things continued to be shown in tiny ways for a while. A poke when he got too distracted and his thoughts too dark, a scribble to get his attention, a sweep of feathers when he refused to stop working so much and listen to the reason. Forever pretended to be annoyed, but the fact that the other cared so much and in such a playful way kept fishing fond smiles and amused chuckles out of him and that he couldn’t ignore.

His cute secret was secure with him, and so things took a while before it began escalating, all because of a different afternoon…

It started with a jumpscare.

“FOREVER!”

“PUTA MERDA!” (“HOLY SHIT!”) The loud shout quickly descended in a series of nervous giggles. The blond holding his chest and resting in a wall to not fall, muscles trembling with the sudden shot of adrenaline.

It took a couple of minutes for him to get back his composure and glare at the demon that was still snickering gleefully at him, tail swooping around in delight as he jumped around.

It took exactly one second.

In a blink Forever was getting his soul back to his body and then in the other he was throwing himself at him and both were rolling on the floor in a mess of pushes and kicks. “Tu se acha engraçadão, hein? Tu se acha muito engraçadão. Palhaço! Tá palhaço demais, hein, Badboyhalo.” (“You think you’re so funny, yeah? You think you’re so funny. You clown! You’re being such a clown, huh, Badboyhalo.”)

Forever didn’t care that his wrestling was uncoordinated enough so most hits didn’t even land on his friend, different from Bad that actually got more than one or two kicks right before letting himself be lost in a mix of too joyfully complains of “unfair attack” and “dictator” to have any true heat in them.

Their playful fight was kept for a few pieces of a while before they were too distracted by their own amusement to not let the other go and try to recompose themselves.

“Where! is! it!”

“What?” Forever asked, staring with confused eyes at the black demon who crossed his arms and squinted at him in what Forever could swear was an annoyed composure if it wasn’t the way his tail swayed around and his eyes glinted in glee. Whether it was for being so unclear and successfully confusing the blond or for the original reason he appeared there in the first place it wasn’t clear.

For a moment his eyes unfocused from the form of the other and watched the wall full of kind, heartwarming messages that he asked for everyone still awake at that night to write so he could make BadboyHalo a surprise. Suddenly all the pieces came together in his mind and formed such a cute picture that Forever couldn’t help but let out a delighted chuckle, lips curling in an amused, teasing smirk. “Ooooh, I see what you’re talking about now, Badboy.”

That chuckles almost became a crackle when the only response he received was a petulant huff and a hand extended in his direction, fingers twitching impatiently. Forever took out his backpack, rummaging through it until he found the compartment where he kept all his flowers, carefully pushing Richa’s favorite one aside so he could pull another one. His fingers clasped around a stem and soon a light purple grazed his sight. “Here. Your daily flower. It’s for until you get better, right?”

“Oh, nice, thank you.” Bad’s voice tinted with a softer tune, carefully gathering the gift and putting it on his own backpack, in a special place, together with the others, before his tune became agitated again, feet tapping on the floor with energy. “But that is NOT what I am talking about.” He got closer and repeatedly began slapping his arm, following the president when he shouted and started running around the enclosed space, jumping in attempts to escape from the sudden attack. “WHERE IS IT! GIVE ME, IT’S MINE!”

“What! What more do you want from me!” When no answer was given besides more chasing and (friendly) hitting, the blonde got the warpstone with an exaggerated sigh.

“You know, Badboyhalo,” when Forever said his entire name, it wasn’t exactly sing-songing, but it had a little beat painted with amusement and tease, when the demons haven’t been able to successfully annoy him out of his mind, of course. “I really need to go, man, and since you don’t have anything to say to me… tsk, that is so sad, man, I was really feeling quite… generous today”

“No!” The demon tried to grab his shoulder, but the blonde dodged swiftly, still pretending to be looking busy and thinking hard about his next location. “Forever. Do not. You’re not running away. I know what you’re doing!” Forever smiled.

Being friends with Cellbit, you learned a thing or two. Like how to disappear in the middle of a conversation, but, especially, how to do that in the most annoying way possible. “No, no, no, I’m not running away at all, Bad, I am actually…”

However, that was the thing: Bad was also Cellbit’s friend, and so realized the exact moment that glint filled the president’s brown eyes what was about to happen. His hand flew in another attempt of a grab, missing once again his shoulder when the other, a bit later than last time, dodged, which allowed his reflex to kick in and his hand changed the trajectory and lay on the brazilian’s side, squeezing.

None of them was prepared for the squeal that this action fished.

For a second, a blissful second, everything froze and both stared at each other.

That is how Forever saw the exact second the demon’s eyes squinted and a playful flame alighted in them.

In a blink his other hand also flew to his waist and began attacking both sides with no mercy. Forever had no chance to even try to stop the barking loud laughter that exploded from him, immediately letting go of the warpstone to clue on Bad’s wrists, trying to push them away by sheer reflex even before his brain could process what was happening.

“Nonono, stop that! BA-ad!”

Bad couldn’t help but giggle, half adoring and half malefically, at the way the laughter made most of his words get almost intelligible. Besides, Bad thinks he could grow accustomed to having his name being snickered in such an adoring - together with that cute smile and shiny eyes - way more often, really.

His fingers poked and prodded with skill and curiosity, looking for any sensitive spot that could create a new fun sound and concentrating there for a few maddening seconds and plenty of digging before looking for the next one. There was a very nice one juuust above his lowest rib that made the barking laughter become a string of snickers that seemed to grow higher and faster by the seconds. It almost made Bad forget his main job now as his friend and rival the second (actually, even before that, if he was being honest, but honesty was overrated) he discovered that little fun secret about their dear tyrant:

Tease him out of his mind.

“Huh? Stop what, Foreverrr?” “That! You’re ti-” Bad closed his hands in fists and pressed his knuckles on his ribs and rubbed as if his life depended on it, cutting the rest of the sentence with success and filling the room with much more shrieks than before. “What was that?”

Forever couldn’t answer, his legs were failing and it made him get close to a fall if it wasn’t for the demon adjusting his hold on him and slowly lowering him to the ground, fingers still dancing in each and every rib, scratching and scribbling happily.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you’re saying, some muffinhead is laughing their heart out near here. Perhaps they heard a very good joke. Hmmm, what do you think Forever?”

Forever snorted, eyes almost closed with how much he was laughing, tears beginning to collect in the corner of his eyes. A few portuguese words got tangled with his crackling. Bad nodded seriously and slowed his tickle attack, not wanting to go too far.

“Uh hm, no, I get what you’re putting down here. We just need to ignore the laughter and keep up our nice conversation. I think that is a great idea!” He snuggled his hands cozily under Forever’s armpits, lightly wiggling and poking, which resulted in the laughter becoming a new dance of a calmer, but still high with adrenaline and mirth, string of snickers that made the blonde’s shoulders bounce in joy. “What were you saying before?”

“Stop tickling me!” “What!” Bad gasped in offense. “How can you even accuse me like that! What the fudge, I thought we were friends. But, no, I see. I came aaaaall the way over here, did nothing wrong and you just treat me like that.” He gave a fake sniff. “You’re hurting my feelings, Forever.” “Mentiroso!” (Liar!) It was quite difficult to see with tears and squinted eyes, especially when Bad’s hoodie always kept his expressions hidden, however, it was even harder to miss how those shiny eyes glinted with mischief and fondness and his smirk went from one ear to another.

It was quite the sweet sight. Forever had to push his face away before it made him blush vomit.

(For a second, he could almost swear that the blue that covered the other’s figure dimmed a little for a piece of time.)

“You’re such a liar.”

“Oh why, thank you.”

Bad freed his hands and softly attacked the back of the elf’s ears, still too lost in the lovely sound of his delightful giggles, crackles and snickers to actually let him go. That was the true sound of Forever’s happiness, not that forced, explosive laughter created by those pills.

Besides, Forever also wasn’t pushing him away.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one missing that freeing sound. Maybe Forever also longed for those moments of playful fights between them, of pushing the buttons and teasing and caring and always, always being there, for the better or the worse.

Eventually, the president held his hands and stopped the attack, left over giggles still pouring from his lips like a waterfall.

Their eyes met.

Forever’s smile got relaxed and small before growing bigger.

Bad just hummed, tail starting to sway fastly from side to side.

“So, Badboyhalo…”

“Yes?”

Forever’s grip got more firm.

Bad’s pull got equally stronger.

They kept smiling.

“Are you… uh.” His voice lost the undertone of playfulness, brown eyes focusing with true curiosity for a moment. “Coceguento? How is it in english? Tickly?”

“Oh, it’s ticklish. For example, you are very ticklish, Forever.”

“Hehehe,” he snorted, and his curiosity was satisfied. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. But what about you, Badboyhalo? Are you… ticklish?” The word came slowly and playfully, tinted with a nice accent.

Bad’s tail opened his backpack, rummaging in search for a very specific item.

“Hmmm… no, actually. I’m not.”

The blonde’s smile got more dangerous. “I don’t know… I don’t believe in you, man.” He found it.

Bingo.

“Then why don’t you try to find out?”

Forever pulled him closer and with a swift move the enderpearl that had been in his bag was thrown to the other side of the room, successfully freeing the demon from his hold. Not a second later, though, Forever was jumping on his feet, ready for another chase.

Lots of laughter filled the afternoon, that day.

[~*~]

After that, the avian wasn’t the only one who now randomly poked, prodded and attacked the outgoing brazilian when he wasn’t expecting, anymore. Even though Badboyhalo’s attacks were much more out of the blue, following him in those lonely afternoons when he was distracted in his adventures or too lost in a project to realize the other invaded his base in the middle of a sleepless night.

But, you see, the difference between Philza and Bad and knowing that Forever is actually pretty ticklish is a very single detail: Bad is a fucking gossiper who loved to set chaos just to see where it would go.

And, therefore, the main reason why Forever was so screwed right now.

“NÃO! SAI, SAI, SAI. LARGA DE MIM!” (NO! GET AWAY, GET AWAY, GET AWAY. LET ME GO!)

“Que isso, moço, tá fugindo da gente por que?” (What is this, bro? Why are you running away from us?)

Forever didn’t even have to turn around to see Mike’s giant smug grin. It was almost palpable in his tune. But if anyone could have any doubt about its existence, they just needed to listen to his crackles as both him and Pac chased their friend through the Spawn, leaving a very amused Bad and Bagi, who shouted a “Boa sorte aí, Forevinho!” (Good luck, Forevinho!) in the wind behind.

“Pois é, a gente só quer um abraço apertado do nosso presida da galera! Cadê o espírito da Favela Six?” (That’s right. We just want a tight hug from our favorite president! Where’s the Favela’s six spirit?) Pac, however, questioned with a genuine tune, almost naive like as he followed the other closely, getting closer and closer by the seconds. For a moment he almost tricked the president into thinking that he was the merciful one, then he remembered about that one tickle fight he, Mike and Tubbo had in the Favela.

Let’s just say it was just a very quick thought, really.

“Favela six é o caralho, ceis querem é me roubar. Eu já disse que não vai ter Armazém da Galera nenhum! Isso é ataque à autoridade, hein!” (Favela Six my ass, you just want to rob me. I already said that there won��t be any Free Storage! This is an attack on authority!)

“A gente só quer o que é nosso por direito, Forevin.” (We just want what is faithfully ours, Forevin.)

The blonde didn’t even have a chance to answer before an arm grabbed his shoulder and pushed, disbalancing him enough so Pac was able to sneak behind him and lock him in a hug, snickering gleefully in his ear.

“Que isso, cara, achava que tu era compromissado! Vou falar pro Fit, hein!” (The hell, man! I thought you were compromised! I’m going to tell Fit!) Forever’s struggles only grew stronger when he saw Mike getting closer, wiggling his hands in the form of claws as he stopped running and instead began to approach slowly, chuckles falling freely from his lips and making shivers run across his spine and giggles to pile in his chest.

He tried again to free himself from the hug, showing no success. Pac’s hold was firm as a mountain.

“E desde quando que tu tá malhando? Tá todo mamadíssimo aí, né, eu tô sabendo.” (And since when you’re ripped? You’re all ‘mamadíssimo’ now. I see what’s going on.)

Pac let out an amused, with drops of shyness, snort. “Pois é, né, moço. Sabe como é né… Tô indo na academia do Fit bastante esses tempos e tudo mais, aí dá nisso.” (That is right, bro. You know how it is… I’m visiting Fit's Gym a lot these last days and that is what happens.) His tune lost a bit of the light and became more serious, cracked in the corners. “Também, né, a gente nunca sabe quando vai precisar. Eu não quero que quando chegue a hora…” (Also, we don’t know when we’re gonna need it. I don’t want that, when the time comes…)

Forever knew exactly what he was talking about, the same cloudy thoughts that filled everyone’s mind in the island the second he warned that the kids had ran away because a danger greater than everything they’ve seen before was coming, the Federation choosing to announce the train station’s opening in just a few days also did not help their nerves.

He looked at Pac’s shadows under his eyes, suddenly remembering that his friend also went under the Happy Pills Treatment, the horrible withdrawal, the exhaustion of recovery, all to save him.

His struggles became just a little, a little less strong, heart melting and hurting like it did for every single member of their dysfunctional family since they arrived in that boat.

The scientists deserved to have their own silly fun, even if the fun was destroying their friend and president in a mess full of giggling pieces.

And so Forever let out a loud laughter, wiggling his eyebrows and giving him a knowing smirk. “Tu tá praticando bastante exercício com o Fit é? Aham, hehehe, tô sabendo.” (Doing a lot of exercise with Fit, yeah? Uh hm. Hehehe, I see.)

“FOREVER!” This time the snort that came out from Forever’s mouth was more of a result of Pac's unfairly squeezing his belly non stop instead of a reaction to the affronted shout, the one with blue hoodie not throwing any other remark or getting lost in any dark thought. The blonde counted that as a win for him.

“Tá bem engraçadinho, mas você não vai conseguir me distrair. Sabe, o Badboy me falou algo muito interessante sobre você que ele descobriu mês passado…” (You think you’re being funny, huh. But you’re not going to distract me. You know, Badboy told me something very interesting about you that he discovered last month…)

Mike finally got right in front of him and Forever immediately started kicking in his direction to keep those offending fingers away from his torso at the same time that he continued to attempt to pry Pac’s hands - that somehow seemed to sense the exact spots he was the most sensitive and concentrate all their pinches, scribbles and tickly efforts on them over and over again - until the attack forced Forever to press his lips on his shoulder to contain the blossoming laughter and embarrassing squeals that tried to escape from his mouth.

His efforts to not let any sound out, however, were demolished when, in his distraction, Mike grabbed his ankle and grinned like a shark that finally got his prey.

“Eu preferia uma mãozinha, mas já que é isso que você tá oferecendo…” (I’d rather you gave me a hand, but since you’re offering…) And, locking the leg in a headlock, his fingers began dancing across his sole, walking around his arch and giving some special attention to the extremely ticklish space right under his toes, skillfully dodging any kicks that this move resulted in and breaking Forever’s barriers instantly.

Forever’s booming laughter filled the air in a free dance of joy, mirth and a warmth that filled his heart when he remembered just how long had it been since all of them could just get together and goof around a bit, no kidnappings or imminent dangers in their minds for a blissful pieces of time.

[~*~]

“Soooo, guys, I think I’m heading out, now.” Forever kept jumping on the trampoline, restless energy running on his veins after talking to Phil about his journey in the Nether. The virus hadn’t spread a lot those last days, but the conversation was hard, not only because of how, primarily, exhausting it was to go through all of it, but because for some reason something in him made he almost feel compelled to shut his mouth and not say a single word about the infection to anyone else.

They played and gave each other a few remarks and pokes of fun when Philza asked for Forever to take off his shirt in the bunker, careful touches analyzing the skin around the ébano substance glued on his back and in the nape of his head. Even so, it made the blonde want to hide away the result of his journey. Forever never have been ashamed of his body. He used to walk around shirtless, on the good old, first days on the island, afterall. But if he was being honest... he was afraid about that infection, and Philza didn’t seem very relieved about it either.

It was a literal mark about how he had failed in absolutely every single sense and chance he had out there. In finding any clue, in getting their kids back, in saving Walter Bob or even himself. In the end, he was not able to do any of this.

That is the President of Quesadilla Island, everyone.

(“We’re going to talk with Cucurucho and demand answers about what the fuck is this.”

Forever gave a humorless chuckle, happy that the children were outside playing so they weren’t here to witness how defeated he sounded for a second before adjusting himself to a playful grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, Philza, he is very good at this. Giving us answers, right?”

“We have to try. If someone knows about this it is the Federation.” Philza brushed the other’s sarcastic ‘há!’ easily and moved until he was right in front of the brazilian, capturing his eyes in a firm stare. “And if they don’t have anything, we’re going to find our own answers.”

Forever nodded, not really believing.

“You worry too much, my friend.”

“Exactly. I already told you but I will repeat it until it gets through your thick skull: I always will worry and I’m not leaving you side, mate.”

For a moment words escaped from his tongue, a mix of feelings of ‘safe’, ‘happy’ and ‘embarrassment’ filled his chest before he got a hold of his senses.

“Alright, alright, alright.”

This time, when he smiled there was a light back into his brown, tired eyes.

“You know, Philza, you really need to get over me, man. The line continues, I’m already moving forward and you still try to romance me, it’s- what is the word? Oh, embarrassing, hehehe”

The avian took advantage of his position to hit the other upside his head, a surprise snort being fished from his lips.

“Oho, shut the fuck up. You’re the one who is still on this!”)

And yeah, maybe he was just making a strategic retreat after showing vulnerability, but who could blame him, really? No one, that’s who. He would be out before they did try.

“Come on, Richas, vamo de Megabase.” (Let’s go to Megabase) He called, getting out of the trampoline when the boy kept painting and paid him no mind. Tallulah, however, stopped writing on a book to go to him, Chayanne turned to look from his place next to the grill nearby, already testing a new recipe.

The girl placed a sign and stared at him with attentive eyes, lips firmly pressed in a shadow of disappointment. ‘You already going?’

(God. He really missed the sound of little steps and signs being placed. They missed it all so much.)

Forever internally winced. He really didn’t spend a lot of time with Chay and Talullah since they’re back, letting them enjoy more time with Phil and just making quick check ins once in a while. He also took the last days to spend as much time as he could with Richas, afterall.

“Yeah... sorry, Talullah, but me and Richas still have to finish our project, right Richas?”

Still no answer from the younger one, too concentrated in every stroke to pay the conversation any mind.

Forever chuckled, sensing a chance for some mischief. Cleaning his throat, he lifted his voice from the usual soft tune he always used with Tallulah to a more taunting tune, making it louder so Richas could listen perfectly well.

“Ohhh, but maybe you can go and help me to make it, right, Talullah? You’re such a nice, helpful egg who listens to your parents when they call you, just like Chayanne. Richarlyson could take some examples from his older siblings more, tsk.” The president had to hold the snickers when he saw the red cow head stop and slowly, threateningly slowly, turn around to face him, Richas letting go of the brush to squint their eyes at him. Talullah and Chayanne rolled their eyes, amused, already used to the playful banters between father and son. “But ahh, he just never listens. Oooh, I have an idea! While Tallulah helps me with the decoration, Chayanne, you can go too and make your delicious barbecue there to keep us- AH!”

The surprised shout was a direct result for when the younger launched himself at his father in protest and began roughhousing immediately, both descending in growls and portuguese for a few couple of minutes before Forever laid a satisfied Richas on the floor, who immediately placed a sign.

‘Pai, stop. I’m making Pepito’s birthday present, let me finish it >:0 we can go Mebase later :D’

“Ok, ok, I get it, I get it. You like Pepito more than your own father. Yeah, yeah, no Richas, no, I get it.” He began fake sniffing and making crying noises, leading to a Richas kicking his leg in a clear message of ‘stop the dramatics’ before going back to the canvas. “Ok, ok, warn me when you finish your drawing then, we can stay a little more.”

The three kids danced in excitement.

(...)

He is not sure how exactly he had ended up in this position.

Talullah and Chayanne were secure and cozy his arms, half because of a poke of fun at Philza that started with a joke ten minutes ago and they just kept it running and half as a parting hug that was stiffly (but still very carefully) answered by Chayanne and warmly by Tallulah. Forever enthusiastically squeezed and hugged them even tighter. A bit jealous of how Philza could shield them both with his wings during their own hugs and how he could only wish that his arms would be strong enough to defend them when the time comes.

“OK, now it’s for real. Richas, let’s go!”

But, when Richarlyson appeared in front of him, paints and canva already put inside his backpack, his smile had a different tint in it and, between his curls, Forever could recognize the flame that always appeared when that kid’s inner demon - not his terrifying artistic alter ego, though, the general demon that lives inside every rascal kid - woke in search of chaos.

He immediately became wary.

‘Chay, Talluh, can I tell you a secret about Pai Forever? 0-0’

Both siblings immediately nodded.

“Ohh, gossip. I like, I like.” Philza snorted at the affronted look in Forever’s face.

“Vai contar nada, vai contar nada, seu muleque atentado! Nem sei o que tu vai falar, mas não vai falar não. Que que é isso, Richarlyson, tá se virando contra o seu próprio pai?” (You’re telling nothing, you’re telling nothing, you absolute brat. I don’t even know what you’re about to say but you’re telling nothing. What is it, Richarlyson, are you turning against your own dad?)

During the entire scold Richas kept jumping around in circles with the utmost, simple delight, wiggling his body and tail in sync in front of Forever, as if daring him to let go of the other two eggs to go and actually catch him, like a cat looking deep into your eyes before throwing the cup right off your table.

He put a sign on the ground.

‘Pai Forever is absurdly, awfully, very, very, ticklish. And it’s so funny because he always agrees to give us anything when we tickle attack him at home.'

“WHAAAAAT! RICHARLYSON, TU VAI FICAR DE CASTIGO, SEU OVO SAFADO. VAI PASSAR O RESTO DA VIDA NAQUELE CASTELO ASSOMBRADO LÁ DO TEU PAI CELLBIT. VOU CHAMAR O ELMARIANA PRA PUXAR TEU PÉ DE NOITE” (RICHARLYSON, YOU’RE GOING TO GET GROUNDED, YOU RASCAL. YOU’RE GOING TO SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IN YOUR DAD CELLBIT’S HAUNTED CASTLE. I’M GOING TO CALL ELMARIANA TO PULL YOUR FEET IN THE NIGHT.)

His kid, his beautiful, beautiful baby boy that he would explode the entire island for and go through the literal hell all over again if it meant that he would be finally safe, only looked at him in a confused expression - as if the lil shit just couldn’t tell why his dear pai was running away from him as he tried to get closer - and began following his steps as Forever tried to put distance between them, holding Chayanne and Talullah the farthest away from his torso that he could while the two squirmed trying to escape and attack.

In the end his back ended up hitting the tree and, without being able to get his items to flee, he had nowhere to go.

“Wait, wait, wait, don-” A chortle escaped the very exact moment Richas began drilling on his sides, making Forever want to bounce up and down with the sudden tickly energy that shot through his entire body, leaving his mouth with a big, dazzling smile and his arms to fall in an attempt to protect himself from the tickling, which inevitably brought the other children close and sealed his fate.

Tallulah was bold, briefly looking at his face for any sign of discomfort before carefully shoving her claws under his armpit, scratching the ticklish skin with ease, but for the loud shriek that this resulted one could think that she just unlocked a full, unmerciful on a tickle attack.

Chayanne took a bit longer, giving his surroundings and sky a wary look, as if a monster would appear the very second he lowered his guard, only to end up finding his father’s gaze, who was watching at them with a soft expression and nodding encouragingly. The little (way to young) warrior relaxed and also took the job of scribbling, encircling and digging (just the tiniest bit, he had to be mindful about his claws after all) the other armpit, fish just more squeals and plenty of gleeful laughter with that.

Forever felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, his body going crazy at the ‘it tickles, it tickles so so much!’ feeling while his brain was still caught in the need to not move around too much to not hurt any kid with his squirms. All of which ended up with the blonde doing a weird little dance around the spot that brought plenty of giggles and amused snickers from the young ones.

Now, the similarity between Philza and Bad is that, while he wasn’t exactly the one who created it, Philza was more than inclined and wouldn’t necessarily refuse to add to a chaotic situation it if the chance came, if he felt like it.

That is why he stepped close, winking at them. “I think it’s better if you just agree to their terms, Forever.”

“I-I” the adult tried to bite back another giggling fit, but their tickles were so goddamn light and maddening- “I don’t even snk know what thehey want!”

“Just agree to give them anything then.”

Forever shook his head. He knew his son enough to understand how much of a pain in the ass that decision could become.

“Needing more convincing? Well, kids, you saw it.”

“Filho da puta-” (Son of a bitch-), and Forever threw his head backwards in more laughter, more squeaks, more half squirms.

Now, Philza may not know Portuguese. However, six months sharing an island with 7 brazilians and plenty of reasons to swear taught him well what some words meant. He snorted, half amused and half affronted.

“Do NOT swear in front of the children.” Then, a wicked grin was formed in his expression.“You know what? I think the eggs need a little help.”

Forever’s eyes got wide when he saw the avian stepping close, cracking his fingers, making an electric shiver run across his spine and spread through his nerves, making his fingertips tingle with adrenaline and anticipation.

His legs tensed in preparation for the chase, unfortunately, his son knew him too well.

In a blink Richarlyson threw himself on his legs and hugged them, successfully stopping him from even trying to escape. And those extra pieces of time were all that Philza needed. As fast as he was to defend and attack, he positioned himself right in front of the president, firmly pressing his shoulder to the tree and not really, truly, preventing him from escaping, but successfully securing him in place, in the same time.

“Ok, kids, what I know for a fact is that his neck is a very bad spot…” He demonstrated it by lightly tracing and wiggling his nails on said place, all of the dragon hybrids watching attentively as the action made Forever lose himself in a sea of snickers and yelps, a stronger reaction only coming out when two more tiny hands got mixed in the fun when Chayanne and Talullah tried mirroring their dad.

“But a spot that could make him cave…” Philza hummed before turning to the young one with a red mushroom cow head. “What do you think, Richarlyson? His hips or the back of his ribs?”

Richas looked at his dad.

At how dark have been the circles under his eyes since he came back, at how he kept chatting with the islanders but never truly talking to them, how he always kept running off to another project or meeting, always saying that Richas was his son and his best friend and the only one he could trust when they got caught up in the middle of the night building and decorating his base.

He saw how, until now, he hadn’t run away. Through the teases, the attacks and tickles, he stayed.

And so, he smirked.

Placed a sign.

‘Both?’

“Geez, I’m never getting into a tickle fight with you, mate.” Even so, the avian reflected his smirk right back at him and both turned to look at Chayanne and Talullah, who nodded in understanding and placed their claws on the back of his ribs.

“Nononono! Wait!” Philza placed his free hand on his hips, thumb pressing the spot right above the bone, the palm resting on the back of his spine. Forever’s speech became more high pitched and much faster, with nervous, delirious chuckles already spilling and spinning in the air. “None of you said what you wanted from me! That is not justo, uh, just, huh, fair! Calma aí, come on, wait, wait, wait!”

They did not, in fact, wait.

For a second, once again, everything else in the world disappeared. There were no code monsters, no Federation, no Purgatory or anything else but the warm, electric feeling of fingers and claws prodding, pinching and scratching that took over his entire senses, making his laughter ring free in a song composed of yelps, shrieks, squeals and snickers that filled the air. There was nothing else but the fun, the joy and the warmth of a careful touch and silly taunting smiles that his heart melt with care over and over again.

In the end, after more laughter, plenty of teasing and lots of snorts, they finally agreed to ask him to visit them again after a couple of days for a nice picnic. A request which, in between leftover chuckles, plenty complains and a few gleeful tears, Forever agreed, a plan of vengeance already forming in his brain.

#Ler!Philza #Ler!Tallulah #Ler!Bad #Ler!Richarlyson #qsmp tickling #Ler!Chayanne #Ticklish!Forever #Ler!Pac #Ler!Mike #I loved the idea of Philza using his feathers for evil tickly purposes ok like PLEASE it has so much potential!!!#Also I didn't add a tickle scenario with Cellbit and Forever and yeah I am sad too but I couldn't imagine it so :(#Very sad face the divorced keep losing :(#cheer up tickles #I don't think Tallulah and Chayanne were too true to their character here but I tried. I only started watching Phil's pov recently :")#Phil and Forever at every second around each other: he is so not over me like god that is so embarrasing how much he still wants me geez #Bad and Forever actively annoying each other gives me so much happiness like <3 <3 <3 yeah yeah get insufferable plssss #Look I am all but a simply person who LOVES hurt/comfort and an entire arc that showed us one of my faves characters going thro hell and-#-being SAVED by his friends and family who literally refused to let him lost himself no matter how much he was forced to push them away?#HECK YEAH #Look look I still lay awake in my bed thinking about Phil saying 'Forever. I know you would've never agreed to that if it wasn't for a-#-good reason' and Forever laughing and saying 'That is the funny part Philza. I never agreed to anything!!'#And he saying that he promised to Chay that he would protect Tallulah no matter what and then he starts laughing 'Isn't that funny Phil?'#AUGH #And don't even get me STARTED about his and Cellbit's screaming match in the end OWWW HOW CAN THEY BE SO GOOD AT RP FUCK MEEEE #Also yeah I am actively ignoring what is happening in canon rn while still adding the virus to my fic like we give them the ol razzle dazzl #qsmp tickles #Kanene's fanfic #Kanene's fic

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italoniponic · 2 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, @diavolosbaby and dear readers~ This is the part finale of my Idia’s scenario, “Winter Melts Into Spring”, and our 50th and last request for the Cherry’s Harvesting event. As I said, this fic got so looong, that I had to split it into two parts.

Curiosity: the title of this fic is inspired by a track from Fruits Basket’s (2019) soundtrack, the original name being “Snow Melts Into Spring” and its alt and longer version, “Spring Will Come When the Snow Melts Away” (here so you can listen to if you’re curious). For those who don't know, the myth of Persephone and Hades is what explains the change of seasons and that’s why this theme is so heavily implied here, just as other videogame references (tho I’m not much of a gamer myself… ik Idia, shame on me).

Hope you like the part finale and I really hope I did justice to Idia’s character, I tried the best I could. I needed to condense most of the story or this would be a longfic and not a one-shot. And it’s already a hell of a long one-shot (for my normal amount of writing, at least). Now, grab a hot beverage, a blanket if its cold where you are (its here for me) and hope its a good read.

Thanks for the request <3 |

Idia Shroud x gender neutral reader / scenario / part 1 (here)- part 2 (3550k words) / mentions of breakup with Vil Schoenheit / angst, hurt and comfort, fluff / seasons and greek mythology references / minor chapter 6 mentions and references / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry’s Harvesting 🍒 Masterlist

Winter Melts Into Spring

{𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, “𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐬”}

You quickly turned to him, waking up from your incessant thoughts. It was another game night and you were sitting side by side in his bed, cellphones in hand. As your game was over, you became a bit dispersed.

“Have you listened to Euterpe-ram’s new playlist?,” Idia shyly showed you his phone, your surprised and intense gaze had taken him by surprise at that moment.

Without paying much mind, you read the title, the number of songs and the cover image, things that made you sigh. Then, almost in auto mode, you said:

“It took me a hell of a lot of work to find that image…”

Panic hit your senses as you turned your gaze to Idia and he looked as painfully surprised as you. You tried to think of something to say but he quickly realized what was going on.

“Are you Euterpe-ram?!,” Idia exclaimed. You see his brain cells going short-circuit. “W-when? Come again? Ah! What you said... about what I thought… the playlist…? You wanted my opinion? Is that why?! I had no idea!”

Idia held back a little as he noticed that you had cringed in your place, a little shaky from the quick way he was speaking. You knew that Idia spoke like that when he was agitated and although you had been amused by this little quirk on other occasions, at that moment you felt as if you had dropped a bomb.

Well, was it a secret worth hiding? Actually, everything that happened was just an omission of information.

As you regained your composure, Idia looked back at his phone and remembered the playlist he was listening to when you walked into his room that night. Songs to listen to when you're heartbroken but don’t want to admit it.

When he found that title, he thought it was a strange coincidence to find something that could express so well what he was feeling at the moment — and Idia already had a bad opinion about coincidences.

There are no such things. Everything happens for a reason. And he was right in part. Idia didn't have to ask why you had created that melancholic playlist about love. Given your situation, there was no other reason.

Mindlessly, Idia went to Euterpe-ram’s profile — your profile — on magify and found the playlist he wanted to review with you. This one, with a completely different theme, was pretty much the opposite of its playlist-sister. A playlist of positive love songs and some hesitant, longing ones. Again, you two were in sync yet by pure coincidence. How was that possible?

“This playlist... is cool,” Idia said suddenly. You nodded silently, not knowing what to say.

He had noticed that you were slowly returning to your usual “you” along the weeks, going back to being the endearing spring that captivated him so much. The choice of those songs seemed a manifestation of that.

“Are you in love?,” this question slipped away unintentionally, and Idia’s heart failed for a second. “S-sorry! I shouldn't meddle in these things!”

“Nice move, Idia! Go there, spoil these good times you have been having!” He wanted to hide somewhere, but he was already in his own room. There weren't many places to run at the moment.

“It’s alright... I think that would be inevitable to talk about,” you replied. You were completely turned to him but your gaze was caught in the zipper of his coat, an easy point to stare at as you talked about these complicated feelings. “A fantastic thing happened to me…”

Idia felt as if he had stepped into a bath with cold water, disappointment already taking over his heart. He already had an idea of what was going to happen. You’d say who you were in love with at this time, he would inevitably be the Protagonist’s Friend once again — an improved version, he tried to convince himself to be — and you two would have a long, awkward conversation about love.

“What happened?,” he asked in a low tone, since you had paused the sentence in the middle.

“You.”

At that, you looked up and bravely, faced Idia’s eyes. You were like a mythological hero facing the depths of Hades, ready to throw yourself into an epic adventure of life and death with no regrets. On the other hand, Idia felt like you had slapped him.

“W-wha-what?,” he didn't even know what to say. How to talk. How to put words together. How to form a coherent sentence. His hair seemed to fry his neurons again, pink crackling at the ends.

“It's a long story... but at first, I was always curious about you. It's hard not to notice you, to be honest,” you tried to laugh a little to relieve tension. “The more I talked to you, this curiosity increased and I really wanted to be your friend. I have met many nice people all these months and you are all special to me... well, I admit that you and Vil have had a certain prominence.”

You sighed, like a flower after a strong breeze shakes it in the field but doesn’t get taken from from its roots.

“Perhaps I’m a very aesthetic person and never noticed it, but Vil’ beauty captivated me. Just like you. But in different ways. And at first, I thought my admiration for Vil had become strong enough to be a passion. Epic love like in the movies, you know? Two hours of film for a splendid and satisfying ending. But it was… not so. It wasn't love. It was something good, positive, full of empathy... but not love.”

It was the first time Idia noticed a bit of winter in your eyes, as if a snowflake had landed on one of your petals. Your gaze had dropped a little, you were still playing with his coat’s zipper — you liked to stare at that little skull for some reason.

Idia bit his tongue, trying to stop himself from saying something, but he couldn't help but ask:

“When you talked about your breakup with the Vil... well, it always bothered me a little,” having said that, your gaze returned directly to him. “There's something very vague, you know? Something you didn't say. What was it?”

He felt a bit stupid asking that. Truth be told, he was afraid of this conversation and what could happen. Still, he wanted to understand the situation better. Vil and you seemed like the perfect couple — so, what went wrong?

You talked about incompatibility but it only seemed like half of the truth. Something that had happened, however, wasn't the main reason. Something you wanted to say but didn't. Part of Idia wanted to know what it was, meanwhile the other wanted to be consumed in flames and simply disappear from there.

For a moment, you hesitated about giving him an answer. Quick flashbacks of some of your conversations with Vil flashed through your mind. During the time you spent together, you talked about a lot of things — especially after his overblot. But most subjects ended up stopping at a specific topic.

“When we broke up, we talked about some problems between us. Things that happened but we didn't know how to solve them. Vil said that I was talking a lot about you. More than anyone else,” you revealed, feeling your heart tremble for a second. It was as if something burned inside, taking away the cold from before.

“Because of what happened to me...?,” Idia risked saying.

“No,” your answer was immediate. “Before that. I asked what you were like, if you were always so reclusive, if there was a way I could talk to you, if you two were in the same class. A lot of stuff. I said, you make me very curious.”

“And I don't know why.”

It had been a grumble that Idia let slip and fastly, he covered his mouth, looking away from you. You already anticipated such a reaction from him and, contrary to what Idia thought was going to happen, you smiled at him.

“You're more interesting than you think, Idia,” you giggled as you watched him try to hide inside his coat, but the pink ends of his hair didn’t lie. “You can deny it all you want but you are someone very intriguing. Your way of acting, of dealing with the world... I want to understand and know all this.”

From the depths of Idia’s hood, his eyes began to stare at you as if you were the weird one there. You leaned more into your pillow, your head tilted and looking at him the way someone stares at their favorite packet of snacks they haven’t found on the shelf in months — and finally Sam had stocked up on them again.

Were you trying to kill Idia?! Was this your evil plan? Not you, the sweet deity of spring, being a character with a secret sadistic side underneath your gentle smile and gaze sweet as honey and ambrosia.

“Maybe I should have been honest with Vil from the beginning. Maybe if I had better understood what I was doing... my own feelings,” you sighed.

“Did you really talk about me that much?,” Idia asked, still incredulous.

To his great surprise, it was your turn to take an embarrassment hit with medium damage. It was a little dark inside his coat and the lights weren’t extremely bright — even if it managed to illuminate the room well — but even so, Idia had the strange impression that your face was tense and flustered.

“Maybe... enough to make Vil a little jealous…”

“WHAT?!,” Idia exploded out of his hood. “In what universe is this possible?! What kind of scenario is this? Vil Schoenheit envy me? Under what circumstances? Does he have to act like a socially awkward guy who doesn't go out in the Sun and has dark circles under his eyes and he, at the must of perfectionism, hates the fact that his makeup doesn't give as realistic an impression as my appearance? Never!”

Idia had heard of stories of a goddess of love being jealous of some very beautiful mortal women — but in those stories, there was the implication that she had a pretty good reason to envy them. Would anyone, under any circumstances, envy Idia Shroud?

“Idia, your hair!,” you warned him.

The flames of his hair were in an interesting gradient of blue, orange and pink, mixing all his emotions at once. Idia took a deep breath and tapped his long locks back to its usual blue. Was he still angry? Yes. Embarrassed? Extremely. Confused? Even more every second.

However, his agitation has yet to be overcome. In the heat of the moment, Idia held you by the shoulders for you to face him directly. His grip was firm but weak enough for you to let go of him if that were your desire. He felt like someone who hurriedly picked up a large handful of wheat in the field to run and protect it from the heavy rain.

Your cellphones lie forgotten somewhere between the bedsheets, unaware of the emotion-filled moment between their owners that would make tragedy plays and shojo anime envious.

“Please, just explain to me why you are so obsessed with me,” Idia asked, desperate. He could no longer endure such uncertainty and confusion. “You’ve finally met me! There you go! Game over. It takes no more than a day to understand how I act, how I eat and my habitat. I’m the lamest kind of lab mouse there is! How can you have fun with me?! Either you’re too bored...!”

“Idia, you don’t understand! What I feel for you isn’t an obsession.”

“Hyperfixation?,” he tried to correct it.

“It's love, Idia.”

On the Isle of Lamentation, the only grasp of vegetation is a series of large shrubs around the entire island to keep oxygen levels regulated and healthy. Nevertheless, there weren’t many flowers — or anything Idia had ever been interested in planting and observing. But he wondered if the opening of a flower bud was equal to your eyes blinking in his direction.

“Love?!,” Idia’s blood boiled and exploded again. His hair rose in a big, hot pink blaze.

You weren't shaken by his reaction this time. On the contrary, his heart beat fast in continual captivation — and a certain amusement too.

Idia was this big papyrus that was easy to open, even if it was hard to read at times. But you could understand him perfectly. Maybe it was a gift, maybe you just were very similar to him or there was some other reason. What mattered, deep down, was that his mannerisms endeared you in a way that not even the fairest of them all could.

You didn’t bother to ask how this was possible.

You already entertained yourself with the possibilities of the Underworld by facing the place from afar. When Ortho — your petite Charon — took you there, a poor sorrowful soul, you let yourself be led like someone who had no choice. Dying is never a fully realized wish, there is always some sort of regret and fear. For you, for others.

Yet, the lord of the dead received you in his realm even in your deplorable state and let you wander there, no longer as a soul but as an equal. Someone who could belong there and make your own pomegranate garden.

“These last times have been the best. I’m grateful for your kindness and your patience with me. This whole time you have been acting like yourself around me,” you said. “While most people here are walking on eggshells about it and another part doesn’t really care, you managed to balance the two things perfectly.”

Your friends sought to avoid talking about Vil. Your more distant colleagues couldn’t be less shaken about any of this. Ortho wanted to cheer you up because he had the purest of youthful hearts. And Idia just stretched out a game control for you and listened to a playlist beside you — your own pain, whether spoken, whether chosen musically.

He didn’t have a heart of stone. He cared about you and, in his own way, he made things easier. If it was someone else, you wouldn’t have recovered so quickly. This conditioning made you feel self-doubt about what you felt.

But doubts aren’t such a powerful titan that cannot be overcome sooner or later.

“To tell you the truth, getting to know you better has only made me realize that it is you who gives me the biggest comfort to be who I am. Here there are no worries, pressure, challenges. I'm just me... and you're just you. Every day, I discover something new about you, Idia, and it's valuable. Genuine. Feel right.”

The more layers you peeled off of Vil, you found that he covered himself with others. He didn't want to worry you beyond what was necessary. His heart was a castle with a trapdoor, dungeons and endless catacombs, things he didn’t want you to explore in any circumstance. He wasn’t ready yet.

One day in the future, he would find someone who could understand him better and would have more persistence in uncovering the shadows and wrinkles he strove every day to disguise and get rid of. Someone who could convince him that this ugliness is natural and not a terrible punishment. A person who Vil would listen to.

That someone wasn’t you. Even as a friend, your words grew on him in a sufficiently deep and, at the same time, superficial way. Beautiful roses in the first days, dried and yellowed petals at the weekend — flowers that needed to be changed in the vase every week.

It wasn’t what Vil or you needed. You weren’t meant to be the Hercules of his story. Your fate was connected with someone else’s.

“I won’t delude myself and think that I know everything about you. Or that you won’t have parts of yourself that you obviously won't want to show me. But...,” Idia’s figure, with his huge golden eyes, staring at you seemed to blur suddenly. “...I’m so glad to be with you. Every day, every night. Grim sometimes needs to come here to take me off, because otherwise I won't go back to Ramshackle. But it’s not because I want to avoid memories anymore!”

There were tears that flowed down from your eyes, just like light rain in a field of daffodils. You stood up on top of the bed, arms outstretched gesticulating energetically to everything around you two.

“I love this place! This dorm, this room, these sweaty sheets, bright screens at midnight, opening a Goblin can with you and toast for one more victory, smell of snacks each week. I want to convince Grim to be here too because everything about this place is wonderful. Can’t you see? We are like the gods of this cosmos...!”

Idia held your hand suddenly and you interrupted your stately monologue to look at him --- and also take a moment to wipe some tears from your face. Idia had his eyes fixed on you, the ends of his hair crackling the same hot pink as before.

Your words touched him deeply, making it seem for a moment that you were talking about Elysium and not Inferno. It didn't have to have such impressive glory. He was entirely satisfied with his humble piece of Underworld. Still, you filled that morbid, dark place with flowers and fruits, finding fertility in even the dustiest graves.

Why were you like that? Why did it make his insides crawl with shame and embarrassment at the same intensity that his heart was pounding fast? Completely unfair!

“Damn it, you look like an anime protagonist talking. It gets on my nerves,” Idia lowered his head so you wouldn’t see his pale face heat with color. “Ah... I love you too much to bully you about these things…”

If you were drinking something, you would have choked. Or spilled it. It would be more mess than what was already.

“Idia?,” you knelt there, trying to make him face you again. “Do you love me?”

“I-I’m not saying it again.”

“Idia, with a thousand hydra heads, put something in your stove of a head!”

In what he wanted to run away from his bed, you held his face and stood close enough that your noses crushed together.

“I love you. Not out of pity, not out of simple curiosity. I want to know more about you just so I can love you more. The good, the bad, the neutral parts. Everything.”

What was that sound in your head? Your heart? Epic music?

“You’ll be that precious game that I will play infinitely because it’s my favorite and never fails to bring me a smile on my face!”

“Please stop talking like that. You drive me crazy,” Idia also held your face, a little harder this time, and pulled you a little away from him.

Idia’s hands were cold as mausoleum stones. His long, pale fingers gripping the entire outline of your face. Despite the cold hands, his face was warm.

Your words were like gasoline to him. He was only stopping you from going on because one more intense speech about how much you loved him — unbelievable, you really hit rock bottom, huh? — would have him have a heart attack right there.

Idia would die of embarrassment in your arms. And, for Hades’s curved chin, you would have the audacity to mourn his death with more shameful oaths of love.

Idia was determined to be strong. For about five minutes, at least. With you there, it was as if he could hold the whole universe in his hands. It was such a scary realization, but also amazing.

“Briger of death. Ramshackle muse. Spring deity...,” he tried to list titles for you, beautiful words that could express what he felt. But he needed a serious backup for this. “Ugh, I wasn’t made for these types of dialogue! To be honest, you make me look so normal!”

“Thanks.”

“Consider that I am the basis of comparison. This is not a compliment.”

“It is. For me, it is.”

You gave a big smile that almost broke Idia. You really had no compassion. At the end of the day, maybe you weren’t a perfect deity. You were just a weirdo like Idia, probably more. But he liked it — without realizing it, he smiled too.

In your romantic playlist, Idia had found a song to call his favorite. It had no lyrics, just a melody. “Snow that melts into spring”. It was how he felt with you right there in front of him. You two could really be who you were together. Both gods and mere mortals.

Idia wasn’t the Protagonist’s Friend. He was just Idia Shroud. In its pathos, in its awesomeness, in its card SSR level and in its simplicity of R card. And you loved him all despite this.

“You’re so weird...,” Idia brought your faces closer to each other again and like a key stuck on the keyboard, he continued. “...and I love this in you.”

Winter might be over but you felt vividly what a kiss of snow was. Frosty, gently melting into warm lips of spring petals. Love can be so lively.

| Special notes: Euterpe is the name of the Muse of Music. "Ram" is the acronym for "random-access memory" (is a form of computer memory) + Ramshackle. I forgot to explain this when I posted in case someone didn't understood the whole thing behind Reader's magify username... yes, magify, I made it |

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst x reader #twst fanfic #twst angst #angst #twst fluff #fluff #hurt and comfort #part two of two #part finale #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting #this story made me awfully aware of how much i use ... in things #and this made the fic look like a shojo episode directly from fruits basket lol #but i'm happy

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freckledbastard · 1 year

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canon dainkae has such good angst flavour and im never gonna shut up about this dainsleif really took one look at kaeya and went i don't trust you because of who your ancestors were and kaeya is like oh? my, how unfortunate. i suddenly need to leave but join me for a drink sometime~ and then he hightails out of the entire msq storyline

first time seeing another living khaenri'ahn and they already don't trust him how about y'all leave my boy ALONE

wait even worse what if diluc and dainsleif strike up a friendship based off watching kaeya, technically both just want the best for him and to make sure he doesn't 'stray' from the path of mondstadt and meanwhile kaeya who is full aware of their surveillance and full aware it's because they don't believe him.... its nothing less than what he expected or deserves, of course, but that doesn't mean his heart doesn't ache from the knowledge that he was right all along, that if anyone was to know his past, to discover who he truly was it would irrevocably destroy any relationship they had.

ITS KAEYA ANGST HOURS ALWAYS

#genshin impact #genshin 3.5 spoilers #kaeya alberich #my phone has stuck pixels so im trying to fix it #and in the meantime im using my older nearly broken phone #i keep looking over to see if the pixels are fixed they arent and also #im getting headaches on account of all the flashing on the screen when i check it lol #ANYWAY i kinda feel bad for kaeya because usually when i think about him in scenarios #its often hurt no comfort i love me some whump #thats why he should hang out with zhongli instead #zhongli would immediately clock him but at the same being so much older and wiser #he knows kaeya is sincere in his love for mondstadt and its people #and its an easy sort of acceptance that kaeyas never dealt with before outside of rosaria #bur even she doesnt know everything about him not like zhongli apparenrly does #(this isnt zh*ngkae i dont ship them but they ARE my favs so my god will they hang out.)

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 1 year

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I had a tiiny thought of holding one of legacy's hands while resting.. <3 maybe even seeking comfort from him, gently pulling it close to your face as you lean close!

Also I hope you'll feel better soon, Wifi!! D: sending Mothman your way to make sure you're all good! ~🩹anon

thank you my dear, i'm feeling a lot better now!!! hopefully it stays that way since i got a very busy week ahead!!! >:O

oh goodness yes, you and Foul Legacy resting together, taking a breather from the hustle and bustle of daily life. you're curled up on your bed together, lightly dozing as Foul Legacy plays with your hair, instinctively purring as his claws delicately trace the features of your face. you shift in your sleep and his purring rises tenfold, sweetly brushing his knuckles against your cheek

suddenly your face scrunches up, frown spreading like oil on water as you mumble frantically, incoherently. Legacy whines, sweeping you to his chest and rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you through whatever nightmare you must be having, heart breaking at the way you shake in his grip. you finally wake with a gasp, heart pounding and breathing hard, and your gaze snaps to Foul Legacy's, who's watching you fretfully. he lets out a whimper and you shake your head, only grabbing for his hand and pressing your face against his palm, gnawing at your lip to keep down your cries. Foul Legacy cradles your cheek, thumb pressing gently against it as soft croons and coos slip from his mouth, and slowly, as to not startle you, he leans in and presses his forehead to yours, swaying slowly back and forth

as you comfort him on his darkest days, he shall for you, too

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lavenoon · 1 year

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Okay, gonna go slightly for pain with this ask:

We all know the boys love and adore their games. How would Dawn/Dusk/Eclipse react to a game having gone just a step too far? Like at first it was all fun, heeheehoohoo, but then y/n either starts crying or outright states 'this isn't fun anymore, that hurt'. And possibly the reason it got to that point was because y/n didn't want to seem like they were rejecting the boy(s) and this is all in good fun right(?) so they just sort of pushed the negative feelings aside until it just got to be too much, leading to the straw breaking the camels back and causing them to possibly be in tears and then feeling horrible because they didn't know how to communicate their earlier discomfort. How would the boys react to the initial fallout and would it change their demeanor for a while, would they try to talk about it, clear the air? Would they try to pretend all was well why also walking on eggshells?

-P

You went so hard with the pain, I have a short answer, and a longer answer for a slightly different scenario

First also the disclaimer, Eclipse does not play like his brothers, he's playful, but rarely snarky with people he likes (unless it's Sun and Moon, that lovely brotherly bond), plus he doesn't really get that sort of contact with Y/N until way later - so he's not going to be a part of this, sorry!

The short answer for this scenario is simply... They don't have a future, or at the very least need distance for a good while until they can stomach each other again. A scenario where Y/N let the boys believe in a playful rivalry/ friendship filled with teasing banter even though it hurts them is simply doomed. The boys trusted Y/N to be honest, and they didn't get that, and have to realize that all they built together is now shattered, all while Y/N doesn't even know where to start trusting the boys again after that last metaphorical gut punch. The boys of course apologize, and promise not to do it again - so they all withdraw into polite distance, because do they even know each other? It's not a happy ending, and I can't see myself entertaining it for long - either be honest from the start and immediately say when things get uncomfortable, or genuinely love banter, both are fine. But letting them trust in a friendship while letting them hurt you is just... No

For the longer answer I'll grab this ask again - what if it's just one of those days where insecurities lurk closer to the surface, setting Y/N on edge? Since you specified Dusk and Dawn, I'll do the scenario where Robin just. tries to engage in the usual banter, but pre-reveal in main/ reverse AU respectively, and of course not successfully.

So Dusk has the advantage of being generally more attuned to Robin's feelings, because they aren't as defensive with him as reverse AU Robin with Dawn. He'd probably notice something is up quickly - their responses are slower, they zone out more, and they seem more like a shadow of themself the entire night.

But after the nth near-misstep, Dusk still underestimates just how badly a little comment like "Your head's really not in the game tonight, huh?" would be received.

Robin immediately stops, and Dusk does just a few steps later, looking back to find them shaking, hands balled into fists, and staring at the ground.

He freezes. This was not his intention, and his mind is racing - the comment is completely in line with what they usually throw at each other, in fact, they’ve hurled much worse at each other at the beginning of their rivalry - but still this is the first time he’s seen them break like that.

The thing is, Robin is proud, and stubborn. Pre-reveal, there's no admitting to being hurt - not immediately. Just a strained, shaky, forced out between clenched teeth;

"Best if I leave, then."

And they do. Still tense, they just turn, walking back the way they came from, focusing so very hard on not crying right there that they don't notice how Dusk immediately follows them. he can afford it - because he doesn't care about the mission that much, and there aren’t any people to impress or fool, just them, and that’s all he cares about in that moment. He much prefers these missions as a way to spend time with his little rival, so this? This is not what he wanted.

He pulls them to the side, the funny act immediately dropped. Gentle, but insistent, even as Robin avoids looking at him. Still shaking.

"Hey, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Neither of us believes that. Little bird, it's never 'best if you leave'."

And that's when they break. Fold like a house of cards, and all Dusk can do is hush reassuringly as he kneels beside them, checking their surroundings to ensure they won't be interrupted. He's not caging them in, but rather trying to project stability as he holds on to them, hands reassuringly on their shoulders as his thumbs brush soothing circles through their clothes. It's an awful kind of deja vu - Robin, crumbled before him, and he doesn't quite know what to do.

At least this time they aren't bleeding.

"But what if?"

None of that.

"I much prefer you being here. Who else would I trust at my back?"

And that.. That already helps. It's that absolute trust that they already have, and even in that spiral of negativity Robin finds they can hold on to that.

If only to argue.

"But I keep messing up."

"You're having a bad day. Everyone gets those - not everyone's as stubborn as you though. I just lock myself in my office and don't insist on going out."

"You get bad days?"

"Sure do. Mostly days where talking gets too exhausting. Hard to explain that without words though, so I just do paperwork until it passes."

"You don't gotta talk with me. I'll get it."

Robin, ever deflecting, has no issues trying to comfort Dusk - but he just chuckles, and gives their forehead a little flick.

"That's sweet, but we're talking about you right now, birdie. Do you want to go back? Postpone this?"

They shake their head before ducking down, aware of the risk they're asking him to engage in. It still feels like failure if they go back, and their brain isn't kind to them about it.

"We'll be extra careful, then. You gotta stick close, okay?"

He's still lighthearted, holding out his hand, not a hint of anger or bitterness or annoyance in his expression. They can't really trust their own mind right now, but they trust him. After months of working with him, and ironically because of all the banter he flung at them before - they know he’s honest, as far as is possible for them in their line of work, and wouldn’t trick them like this. He’s not that cruel.

They take the hand.

"Nice. Once you're back home, you gotta put on your comfiest pajamas though, and make yourself a hot chocolate. Extra sweet. Doctor's orders."

And that's when they find their laughter again, too <3

Dawn, as mentioned above, has it a little harder. Not just because Robin is more on edge around him, but also because he is simply an idiot about it all and more prone to fucking up.

Their shared undercover missions are also social, which adds another stressor for Robin. More people to fool and entertain with polite small talk, which just gets harder by the minute. They struggle to keep up with conversations more and more, spiraling internally about "Oh god, I'm not paying enough attention, am I even smiling? What if I'm giving us away, what if I'm the reason we fail, that'd just prove them all* right -"

(*all being in this case everyone at the agency, including Dawn, as obviously they're all just waiting for Robin to fuck up and boot them from the agency)

Dawn is an idiot, but he's not blind. He notices their fumbling, their strained smiles - and ever efficient, he gives them an out. Hand on their shoulder and leaning in close, creating a bit of a cover for Robin.

"You seem unwell, my dear. Did you eat something wrong? Perhaps you should go, freshen up a little?"

And then lower, quieter, just for their ears:

"You're slipping. Go take a breather."

Robin, stone-faced, goes to do that without another word. There's some awkward chuckles from their former conversational partners, pointing out how there might be "trouble in paradise" - and while Dawn is aware that their situation is nowhere near "paradise", he can't help but agree with the rest of the sentiment.

He saw their expression. He's seen them smug, he's seen them shocked, he's seen them scared, he's seen them happy, he's seen them angry - this is the first time he's seen them resigned.

The breather doesn't stay a breather. After ten, fifteen minutes pass, now Dawn is the one obviously getting antsy, and promptly excusing himself to go check up on his "date". (He's peripherally glad that he gave the explanation of them eating something wrong, because sickness is a valid cover, which both of them need right now.)

He doesn't find them in the bathrooms, nor near any of the public balconies. But the fresh air does give him that idea - his little thief likes their high vantage points.

He finds them on the roof, which they should not have access to.

Robin, hearing the door click, has a good idea of who found them, and only curls up tighter where they're huddled, as hidden as they can get.

"Why are you hiding?"

Dawn isn't here to play games - the mood for that left him as soon as they looked at him with empty eyes. Maybe he'd do well to be just a tad gentler, but he's confused, and honestly kind of worried, so he slips into bluntness.n (They aren't at the stage where he can show concern - is what he thinks)

Robin is still hiding, even with Dawn right there already, and only acts defensively.

“Please, just do your thing. Don’t let me hold you back.”

They may hide it behind the passive aggression, but the fear is very real. They are holding him back, making him cover for them, making him look for them, and they can’t do anything right, huh?

The soft sound of shifting clothes, and then there’s a hand tilting up their head to meet his eyes. Confusion twists his expression into a frown, and Robin lowers their gaze almost immediately to escape that searching expression.

“Darling, in what world would you be holding me back?”

“In this one, obviously.”

They try to slip out of his hold - but then his other hand cups their face too, and looking away becomes even harder. He looks bewildered, and it makes no sense.

“Do you think I have any interest in being down there without you by my side?”

That makes even less sense.

“You can do better without me -”

“Will you stop slandering my partner? I can do differently, not better. And I want you down there, with me.”

Robin can’t take it anymore - they push his hands away, trying to curl away, even as one of those hands settles on your shoulder instead.

“But it’s true, I’m just faking, I’m pretending to be a good agent and somehow I fooled a couple people and now I just -”

And there’s a handkerchief, dabbing away those first spilled tears. (A fancy one, in red. A little embroidered Sun in a corner, because initials aren’t really an option.) Robin freezes, the rest of their sentence dying in their throat.

“The outcome is the same, dear. Your results don’t change just because your mind tells you to invalidate your efforts. There’s no one else I’d rather have at my side to stomach these kinds of events.”

Deflection is easier, always.

“... You don’t even have a stomach.”

“Which makes the need for an outlet even more dire, no? Have you seen the suit on that ginger? Their lapels are barely ironed!”

Some of that indignation is real, and Dawn realizes a second too late that this… perhaps isn’t the time. But another second later Robin giggles softly, and maybe it was the time, after all.

He softens.

“Why don’t you go ahead and set up the bug - we have everything we need from those people, and I’ll go ahead and say you’re feeling unwell. We can leave right after.”

Their smile is small, and hesitant, but he’s never seen anything that filled him with more relief.

“Okay.”

For good measure, he smiles at them too, tilting his faceplate just a little. Wraps their fingers around his handkerchief - it’s for them to keep, and he’s so very glad when they do <3

Post reveal, should something like this happen again, the boys are prepared - and much less limited in their reactions. They’ll get to reassure them in the moment - and also at home, ensuring Robin actually rests and doesn’t push themself too far, while taking care to not set them off again. It’s not quite walking on eggshells, because they’re more than capable of being soft, but the gentleness is definitely palpable (because neither of them would try to hide it) <3

#answer let luce #P asks #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #AU AU AU #after trials and tribulations I finally finished this #*looks at my still not smaller inbox* *sighs* /lh #this entire ask is 2K+ words #I will not apologize #Dawn's scenario is a little longer simply because undercover missions involve a bit more people that need to be taken care of #story wise I mean #Dusk can just straight skip to the comfort #I sat on this for days now please just have it oh my god fghdjs #tumblr fought me so hard #almost lost a bunch of words at some point and then it wouldn't let me paste the text in after I switched to docs #so im not going to proofread this i just need it out #enjoy

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