#Christmas snippet

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Christmas Snippet 2023

Supervillain had just finished making a steaming mug of hot chocolate when the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be at this hour?” they wondered.

They approached the front door to their mansion. It had better not be any Christmas carolers, they didn’t have the time or patience for that. Supervillain opened the door and saw no one. Oh brother, a ding-dong ditcher? On Christmas Eve? Supervillain was about to close the door when something brightly colored caught their eye.

A large parcel lay on their doorstep, brightly wrapped in red and green paper and topped with a gold bow. Supervillain tilted their head, puzzled. They usually didn’t receive gifts from anyone this time of year- or any time for that matter- unless it was a trap. Supervillain bent down to examine it. They picked up a small, glitter-covered tag and read a neatly scribbled note.

To: Supervillain

From: Superhero

May this Christmas gift be an offering of peace

Supervillain scoffed. Definitely a trap then. They were just about to close the door when they heard a very faint whimper from inside the box. Their eyes widened. That better not have been what they thought it was. They lifted the box with their powers- it was quite heavy- and hastily brought it inside, closing the door behind them.

Supervillain worked quickly to tear off the paper. Underneath was a thick, metal box. Lifting the lid, Supervillain held in a gasp at what they saw. Nestled in the padded box was Hero, a gas mask strapped to their face and several straps restraining them tightly. Angry, purple bruises and red gashes littered their battered body, and their suit was in tatters. One of their eyes was black and swollen, and they had burn marks between some of the gashes. Hero had put up quite a fight before ending up in the box. They whimpered in their sleep, as even their dreams couldn’t remove the pain.

Supervillain quickly undid the straps and pulled off the gas mask, gently lifting Hero into their arms. They carried the crime-fighter over to the couch and laid them down, leaving to get a med kit.

…

Hero stirred on a soft surface. They opened bleary eyes to a grand yet cozy living room. They tried to sit up, but strong hands pushed them back down.

“No, no, stay down,” a voice said, “you’re very hurt.”

Hero’s vision cleared up and their eyes widened.

“S-Supervillain-”

“Shh, yes, it’s me,” Supervillain admitted, “it’s alright, I won’t hurt you. It seems Superhero’s done enough of that already.”

Hero sniffled, tears brimming in their eyes.

“M-my whole team, actually,” Hero said, wiping their tears.

Supervillain stiffened, their gaze becoming dark and hard.

“What?”

“I…I shouldn’t have said that. Forget I said anything.”

Supervillain took one of Hero’s hands- it was heavily bandaged- and looked them in the eye.

“You are going to tell me everything now,” they said, “or I will kill all of them this very minute.”

Hero blinked in fear, and Supervillain sighed.

“Please,” they added, their tone softer, “tell me what happened.”

Hero gulped, and told Supervillain everything.

The plan was Superhero’s. Supervillain had been wreaking havoc on the city since Thanksgiving, and enough was enough. The heroes weren’t strong enough to stop them, but maybe if they had a peace offering…

“Hero,” Superhero had said, “meet me in the training room, please.”

Hero thought it was an odd request, considering it was Christmas Eve, but they didn’t have any plans, so they did as they were told. Once they arrived, the doors swung shut behind them, locking in place.

“Superhero?” Hero asked, “what is this?”

“I’m sorry, Hero,” the older crime-fighter said, “you’ve been a loyal upholder of justice, but we need results now.”

Hero’s team came out of the shadows, surrounding them.

“I hope you understand.”

“Superhero, wait-”

The blast of fire came from the left, the electricity from the right, and the throwing stars went right into their back. Hero cried out, forming an ice dome to shield themselves. Superhero slammed their fists into it, making it shatter. They landed a few good hits right to Hero’s face, while Vigilante got them a few times with a knife. Every attempt Hero made to fight back was weakened by Teammate 1’s fire and Teammate 2’s electricity.

‘Stop it! Stop it!” Hero screamed, “I haven’t done anything!”

Eventually, Superhero put them out of their misery. A sharp pinch in their neck, and Hero quickly went limp. Their former team stepped away to let them breathe.

“Why?” Hero breathed tearfully.

“It had to be someone, Hero,” Superhero said, “you just happened to be the weak link.”

Hero’s vision faded just as Vigilante approached them with the straps.

The room was silent for what felt like an eternity.

“I’ll murder each and every one of them,” Supervillain promised quietly.

“But you said you’d kill them if I didn’t tell you!” Hero protested.

“My dear little Hero,” Supervillain said gently, cupping the side of Hero’s face with a hand, “they don’t deserve your mercy.”

“Please, Supervillain, don’t kill them, I don’t want that on my conscience-”

“Your conscience? You’ve done nothing wrong, and it is no fault of yours if I make myself the consequence of their actions.”

“Please,” Hero begged, fresh tears forming, “it’s Christmas!”

Supervillain sighed. They scanned Hero’s mangled body, their wounds covered in bandages and their eyes pleading.

“I will spare their lives for now,” Supervillain said, “if only for your sake.”

“Thank you, Supervillain,” Hero said softly, “could you please take me home?”

Supervillain paused, then shook their head.

“Don’t those so-called heroes know where you live?” they prompted gently.

Hero’s face fell.

“…Yeah… yeah they do.”

“I will go by your house and get your things for you,” Supervillain offered, “you’ll be safe with me.”

Supervillain got up to leave. They turned to Hero one last time.

“Try to rest, little one,” they said, “I’ll be back soon.”

Hero nodded, settling into the couch. They drifted off shortly after Supervillain left.

…

By the time Supervillain returned, all the news channels were reporting the vicious attack on the hero team. Teammate 1 had third degree burns littering their entire body, Teammate 2’s scarred body was still twitching and spasming from the repeated exposure to electric currents, Vigilante looked like a pin cushion with all the sharp weapons stabbed into them, but Superhero? Superhero was on a ventilator, every bone broken, their lips and fingertips blue from stage four hypothermia, and one lung collapsed.

Supervillain kept the TV off; Hero didn’t need to see any of that, it would only distress them further. Supervillain, however, needed the closure. Turns out revenge made an excellent Christmas gift to oneself.

#hero x villain #superhero whump #superhero whumper #hero whumper #hero whumpee #supervillain caretaker #supervillain whumper #writeblr #writing #creative writing #whump #heroes and villains #drugging #given as a gift #snippet #Christmas #Christmas snippet #Christmas 2023 #betrayal #bad superhero #corrupt superhero

[sanaserena]

Christmas day came with another party, this time it was Zoro’s place at noon, as nominated when Luffy’s Grandfather scowled his grandson into non-submission.  You’d marvelled at that exchange, at Mr Garp yelling at Luffy for constantly messing up the apartment, while Luffy asking what the hell did his grandfather want?  It was odd, for it sounded like an argument, but there was clearly no intention to get into any fights unless it involved several fists of love from both sides. 

You sang carols, and discovered that Ace had a terrible singing voice, much to Sanji’s horror.

You split crackers, and found some nasty joke ones courtesy of Usopp, and much to Robin’s macabre delight.

“It’s not halloweeeen!” cried Chopper, eventually comforted by Robin, who gave him an extra slice of cake.

Somehow Sanji and Zoro got into a fight on who could cut the turkey better – Sanji won out because he cooked it. 

And Franky nearly blew up Zoro’s house, much to his horror.  It was a good thing the party was out in Zoro’s garden instead, in the warmth of a Grand Line City summer.

You gave Ace a new beanie, with a shy smile apologising that it wasn’t grander—you were saving that for his birthday.  It was the same as his old orange one, but this one had two smiley faces on the front, two black circles, one with a smile face, the other with a frowning one.  It really wasn’t much.

He put it on immediately.

For you, he had planned an anniversary getaway, the first of which for you both as a couple.

After a few hours, Ace lead you away.  Between the both of you, in many ways orphans, you had such large adoptive families.  And what had once been lonely Christmases for the both of you, in different ways, were now a fight between one place and the other.

It was a good thing that Zoro’s house wasn’t far from where Ace lived.  And together you walked hand in hand back to his place, to join, however briefly, the Whitebeards party. 

There were no people on the streets, except for a few.  The sun was warm, but Ace was warmer beside you.  You knew this because even though you were holding hands, his arm was pressed to yours. 

“It’d be rather nice to drive down this road with the roof opened on a day like today,” you mused.

“I wouldn’t know, don’t own a car.”  Ace shrugged.

“I noticed.  Why is that?”

He looked momentarily aghast.  “And restrict me to the confines of such a vehicle?”  He nudged your shoulder.  “You’re learning to drive.  Why don’t you get one, and then we can cruise to our delight.”

“Maybe.  Or maybe I’ll just rely on you until the end of days.  You and that monstrous bike of yours.”

He chuckled, pulling you to a stop, just to look at you it seemed.  “End of days huh?” he said, tugging on your loose hair, haphazardly curled for today’s celebrations. 

~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~♥~♦~♠~♣~

"Reader and Ace spending their first Christmas together as a couple" flashback scene from my modern (sports - lacrosse) au fic, A Pair of Reds, over on AO3 (former Portgas D. Ace X reader pairing; Eustass Kid X reader endgame)

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #portgas d ace x reader #former portgas d ace x reader #modern au #lacrosse au #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #x reader #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #feeling nostalgic #eustass kid x reader endgame #long snippet #soft-ish (non-toxic) but still Kid-Kid kind of fic #Christmas snippet

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

cw pet whump, implied drugging, intimate whumper, conditioned whumpee, slightly suggestive

"What did you wish for this Christmas, kitten?" Whumper asked, loosening their tie. They were still fully dressed in their work clothes, while their pet was wearing soft, holiday themed pajamas.

They gave Whumper a sweet smile from their place on the couch, holding a mug of hot chocolate. "Snow."

Whumper chuckled, pulling off their tie and kicking off their shoes before joining Whumpee on the couch. "That's precious, honey. Well, it might not get that cold, but—" They pulled a small bag from their jacket pocket and held it up for their pet to see. "Close enough."

Whumpee made a soft noise of disagreement, holding their hot chocolate closer as though it would keep them safe. "Please, Master, you know I don't like that."

"You said you wanted snow, hm?" Whumper teased, reaching out to stroke Whumpee's hair. "Besides, I like how it makes you. I like seeing you all spacey, not worrying like you do all the time. I like when you're easy."

Whumpee looked up at them through their lashes. "Can we watch a Christmas movie first? And cuddle?"

The smirk on Whumper's face was replaced with a more earnest smile, and they kissed Whumpee's cheek. "Of course, kitten. We can make some cookies, too, if you want."

"Yes, please," Whumpee said, face lighting up. "And more hot chocolate?"

"Sure, honey," Whumper agreed. "It is Christmas Eve, after all."

#whump #whumpblr #whump writing #pet whump #christmas whump #intimate whumper #implied drugging #conditioned whumpee #soft whump #noncon drugging #suggestive #whumper x whumpee #requests open #snippet

[hedwig221b]

[narrator's voice] Derek is not human, despite what Stiles thinks. Derek also knows something that Stiles doesn't - that Stiles is pregnant

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Cold blood slithered down his forearms to his elbows and dripped on the floor. His hands were slick with it, oily with all the fat that saturated the flesh.

His sharpened teeth dug into the meat and tore chunks of it out. He swallowed it almost without chewing, so hungry he was. The sounds felt too loud in the silence of the night, the whirring of the fridge the only accompaniment to his long-awaited feast.

It didn’t matter that he was used to the hot flesh. No, this was good, too, even with the faint notes of grass throughout—

“Stiles?”

Stiles froze.

Suddenly, he saw everything — the opened fridge, the dim light from inside; he felt the cold kitchen tiles under his bare feet, the chill that stuck to his skin. Something cold and soft and slick in his hands.

Stiles let it go.

The half-eaten steak smacked onto the floor right between his feet.

No. No, no, no.

Stiles didn’t want to turn, deathly afraid of what might happen after. He just stood there, staring at the meat, waiting for Derek to shout, to yell, to call him insane and kick him out—

Strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his body away from the fridge. Familiar hands cupped his undoubtedly pale and bloody face and turned up.

Derek’s wide eyes were full to the brim with concern.

He will leave, he will leave, he will leave.

“Baby, listen to me, it’s okay.”

Stiles opened his mouth to talk, but the taste chose this exact moment to remind him about what he had just done. Everything tasted like meat, like blood.

Whatever expression he had on his face made Derek frown even harder. The man shook him a little.

“Focus on me, Stiles. It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m here. It was probably a dream, that’s all.”

That was no dream.

Stiles didn’t remember waking up or walking to the kitchen. If Derek didn’t snap him out of it, he could’ve… could’ve…

“Come here, sweetheart.” Gently, oh so gently, Derek took his wrists and led him to the sink. He washed Stiles’ hands himself, holding them as if they were more fragile and thinner than crystal.

Stiles watched his hands move and barely had any feeling in his own. He was only vaguely aware of the wall of heat that was Derek’s body in front of him, of his muscles flexing under his movements, of the edge of his clenched jaw.

What had he done?

“That’s it,” said Derek, turning off the water. He dried his hands, then led him to the bar stool, helping him up. “Come on, arms up.”

Stiles lifted his arms as if in a trance. He didn’t understand why Derek asked him that at first, but then felt the cold seep into his skin as the man took off his shirt.

Oh. Right. It was probably covered in blood, too.

Derek’s shadow disappeared then returned a couple of seconds later. Something warm and wet touched his face — his own t-shirt, Stiles realized. Derek was cleaning his face. From chunks of meat, fat, and blood.

Stiles lifted his eyes.

Derek met his gaze for a fraction of a second, then returned to cleaning.

“Derek.”

“Shh.”

Stiles shut up. His eyes stung, and his whole body was breaking out in shivers.

Derek noticed, of course, always weirdly attuned to Stiles’ body. Putting the t-shirt aside, he hopped over into the living room and came back with a blanket in his hands, which he then promptly put around Stiles.

God, he probably thought Stiles was such a fucking freak. Derek was probably in shock himself.

“On a scale of one to ten,” said Stiles in a shaking voice, “how much do you want me to leave and never come back?”

He was probably going to be told to pack his things in three, two—

Stiles didn’t expect Derek to step between his spread legs and sweep him into a tight hug.

Fuck, he didn’t need to add tears to the horror scene, not now.

“Never joke about it,” said Derek into his ear, grabbing his waist harder. “Never.”

“But—”

“I swear to god, if I have to lock you inside, I would.”

Stiles wanted to curl into himself from the heaviness of his voice. He dug his fingers into Derek’s shoulders and sagged against him with his chin against the man’s shoulder.

“So we’re going to, like, pretend nothing happened? Is that what you mean?” he asked.

“No. No, of course, not. Look at yourself, you’re trembling like a leaf.” Derek rubbed his back as if it would help. As if anything would help. “I told you, it’s okay. You’ve just had a very intense dream and sleepwalked.”

Oh, Derek. Stiles was honestly flattered and a little bit horrified by the lengths Derek was willing to go to delude himself into thinking Stiles was normal.

Fuck, Derek was such a naive human. Stiles couldn’t let him think that. It was simply dangerous.

“Derek, sleepwalking or not, you cannot tell me it wasn’t freaky.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“And it’s my fault anyway.”

“How the fuck was that—”

“How are you feeling?” Not listening to a word he said, Derek put his palm against Stiles’ stomach, rubbing the skin with his thumb. “Nausea? Pain?”

“N-no?”

“Do you still want to eat?”

Now Stiles really looked at him. What was he supposed to say? Wasn’t that kind of a strange question? Stiles was, like, fifty percent sure that when humans got food poisoning they were put on a diet of chicken broth and crackers. Did Derek think he had just got poisoned?

What was he supposed to say?

“Uhh,” Stiles blinked at him. Well, maybe if he went for the truth… Derek was human after all, he had to know what to do. “Kind of?”

“Okay, that is fine.” Derek nodded at him as if talking to an idiot. “Sit here, baby, okay? Just relax. I’m going to cook something for you.”

After pressing a light apologetic kiss on Stiles’ forehead, Derek left him sitting alone. Stiles watched in confusion (mixed with something shaking, warm, and aching) as he marched to the fridge, took something out, then plopped the pan right on the stove.

He always loved watching Derek cook. He did it with a strange grace, his movements quick but precise. The muscles on his back and shoulders played delicately in the low warm light; his grey pants rode low on his hips. Derek was cooking for him.

For him.

Stiles crossed his arms on the table and laid his forehead on his hands.

Breathing, listening. Trying not to fall apart completely.

He didn’t deserve this man. Never did and never will.

Something hissed and sizzled. Fat or oil bubbled on the hot surface, sputtering droplets everywhere. Soon, the kitchen filled with a delicious smell of…

Grilled meat?

Stiles looked up.

Derek stood by the stove, leaning with one hand on the counter, and holding the steak with tongs in another. He remained silent as he cooked, turning the meat and pressing it on all sides. Shoved it in the oven, then stared with a blank faraway gaze at the stove as it cooked. Took it out after a few minutes, back into the pan, basting it with butter, garlic, and some herbs.

Not a single word, until…

“Here.”

…a plate with a perfectly grilled juicy rare steak was put in front of him.

Stiles stared at the bronzed buttered surface of the meat, then swallowed the spit that instantly filled his mouth.

He licked his lips, cleared his throat, then turned a hesitant gaze up at Derek, who was watching him like a hawk.

“I can eat it?”

Derek’s eyes drilled into his.

“I cooked it for you.”

Stiles wiggled in his seat. “Yeah, no, I meant…” he had to keep his act as a human so Derek would have to bear stupid questions. “Can I eat it so soon after?..”

Derek was… yep, still staring. “Kitten,” he started with a strange smile on his lips that didn’t match his wild gaze, “you bet your pretty ass you can eat anything I put in front of you. I’ll always give you the best. That steak you ate? “Premium” doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m also quite sure that your stomach can handle it. You’re human, yes, but you’re still a predator.”

Stiles’ whole body went still as a statue.

Does he kn—

No. No, stupid, how would he fucking know? If Derek knew what kind of predator Stiles really was, he would run away instead of trying to soothe him with a treat.

“I know what you need, Stiles,” Derek added, a touch softer than before. “Eat.”

Derek had no idea what Stiles needed. However, this time, he guessed right.

Stiles licked his lips discreetly, pushed the plate towards himself, and began eating.

He ate the whole thing under Derek’s heavy stare. When Stiles offered him the bite, he only stretched his lips in this secretive smile of his, this time full of… pride? Satisfaction? Pleasure? Whatever it was, Derek refused.

If only Stiles allowed himself to dream, it would be of this. Of Derek accepting him for who he was. A predator.

Yet, usually, the human-eating predators didn’t have the same respect as others. And no matter how much it was romanticized, Stiles did not want to die from his lover’s hand.

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #sterek fanfic #my fics #stiles stilinski #derek hale #eternal sterek #sterek fanfiction #mpreg #sterek mpreg #sterek au #stiles mpreg #merry christmas stereks #here's the treat #blood #I promised a snippet didn’t I #vegans I'm so sorry #sterek moodboard

[cassidysinferno]

(Short) Snippet #1 / Prompt #6

Villain was invited to a Christmas party hosted by Supervillain, full of known criminals in the city and their henchmen.

they hadn't expected the invitation from the master criminal, obviously. especially because Supervillain certainly does not look like the type of person to host parties.

while they don't intent on showing up because they'd rather spend it alone, something had caught their attention in the invitation. It had mentioned that Hero would be there.

now here Villain was, in the party, expecting some sort of announcement and humiliating Hero in front of everyone and it strangely worried the criminal.

sure, they hated each other but they hadn't want this. if anyone has to deal with Hero, it would be them. not supervillain.

they leaned against the wall, holding their wine glass. they're worried and overthinking for their nemesis and it's ridiculous.

they glanced around the room to spot..Hero. Unrestrained, Not humiliated, Nor bruised. But they're there, talking to who it seemed like one of Other Villain's henchman.

they would know, the said henchman was their old best friend from highschool who they still kept in touch with.

the villain watched as the henchman leave, waving bye to the hero..what the fuck.

they put their wine glass down to one of the tables and approached Hero, tapping their shoulder from behind to get their attention and put on their "iconic" smile.

"my, my..what is a hero doing in a party full of criminals?"

the hero turned back and smiled sheepishly.

"hey. did..Parent not tell you i was gonna here in your letter? ah, I knew I should've insist them that i should be the one who's writing your letter."

#hero x villain #hero x villain community #hero x villain snippet #hero x supervillain #platonically #christmas prompts #this is my first time writing a snippet sorry if it's shitty LMAO #I live for supervillain being hero's parent sorry. #there should be more prompts i think #adopted hero #they're actually adopted #yeah #villain x hero #villain does NOT like parties #fun fact i was gonna add the fact that Other Villain's henchman is villain's cousin #CAN BE USED AS PROMPT!! #if you use this plsplspls tag me I'd love to see it <3

[wispscribbles]

When I finish my ghoap Christmas oneshot that I started way back in start December, and have been struggling with since, then it’s over for you fools 🎅

#maybe it will be done by next Christmas lol #god no I’m scared of jinxing it #it’s not even THAT long I’ve just constantly had to step away from it and start over #and I don’t even think it’s good 😭 but I want it done #and there are bits I like that I want to share so I need to finish this bitch #y’all better be ready to find some leftover Christmas cheer when I post it #we will pretend that it isn’t several months late 😀 #they kill Santa and it’s funny and I don’t want to leave that forever in my wips #correction: they kill someone dressed as Santa but they take it very seriously #it has very much the same vibe as ‘Clue’ did and ppl enjoyed that one a lot #so I hope I’m just overly critical of myself and that this fic is actually alright #how did I write clue in one night????? where did that superpower go???? #might share some snippets at some point idk #wispy update

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @malewifediaz @buckaroosheart 💖💖

how did the "fluffy decorating christmas tree fic" turn into eddie being nostalgic about shannon? no idea lmao but I love it haha (also, lowkey a tease for alive shannon bc this hypothetical is what ends up happening there haha) this fic would've been done already if I didn't get sick bc now i'm barely awake at all times and just so fucking tired lol i should finish it next week at the latest tho! (if Eddie doesn't take over and make it super long again haha)

prev snippet

___

And Buck knows all that, because he knows Eddie so well, and Eddie- Eddie just loves him so much sometimes it gets overwhelming, just the sheer amount of love he has for this man, who’s currently looking at him with those gorgeous, understanding eyes. And he can’t do anything else but lean in and kiss his pretty pink lips.

“I know.” he whispers, smiling, blinking away tears. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Buck chuckles quietly. Then Eddie looks at Christopher again.

“It’s just hard sometimes, especially during the holidays. She should be here. With Chris.”

“She really should.” Buck wraps one hand around Eddie’s shoulders.

“I think she’d like you.” Eddie muses, leaning his head against Buck’s. “You guys would get along.” He really thinks so, and he also thinks that even if the accident didn’t happen and she didn’t die, he’d eventually give her the divorce she asked for, and inevitably date Buck anyway – he doesn’t think there’s any universe, any scenario, any path he’d take, where he and Buck don’t end up falling in love. If he believed in it, he’d say it’s fate or destiny or some shit like that. (Maybe he does believe, just in this one instance, but no one has to know).

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @exhuastedpigeon @king-buckley @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @daffi-990 @callmenewbie @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @jamespearce9-1-1 @weewootruck @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks

#christmas tree fic #wip wednesday #fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #my writing #i promise it's buddie and they're so soft and cute lol - and there will be tree decorating too! #i just think xmas especially would be a time eddie thinks about shannon a lot #and buck would be all understanding bc he knows how much eddie loved her #i really need to get back to alive shannon - haven't looked at the doc in like a month and i miss her haha #ive been sick way too many times this winter but this time it might be the worst i just feel so awful #not gonna make a cold stop my writing tho - just might take a minute longer haha

[cleromancy]

ever think about how tim was based in crime alley for a while. in the renovated movie theater no less, the absolute madlad

#jaytim #snippets #also important to know this takes place on christmas.

[sunshinediaz]

there you are, sweetheart | 2.9k, teen

Buck fills the gnome mug up, drops six fat marshmallows in the top, and then sets it in front of Eddie. “Drink up, mi princesa.”  Eddie snorts. “Tomate.”  “Did you just call me a tomato?”  “Mhm.” Eddie wraps his hands around the mug, full-body shivering at the warmth. It hits a chill deep in his bones, one he sometimes can’t get rid of no matter how hard he tries. “I sure did.”  Buck balks, flaps his mouth like a fish on dry land, and then huffs as he spins around and starts back in on the few dishes still in the sink. The pot he warmed the hot chocolate up in sits on the stove, cooling off; another mug, taller and thinner, is pushed off to the side. Buck’s on, since it’s in his favorite cup.  Eddie delights in the heat in his hands a few moments before bringing it up for a sip. It’s sweet, chocolatey and creamier now than it was a couple days ago; the chubby marshmallows bump his nose, smearing whipped suds across his mouth. It’s delicious, warming Eddie’s tummy up better than a hot shower ever could.  He puts the cup down and flicks at a marshmallow. It turns over and over, wet and light brown from the chocolate; it’s the biggest of the six, though it’s melting just as fast, and he pops it in his mouth before it dissolves all the way.  In his chest, his heart burns like it’s on fire.  Wrapping his hands around the cup once more, he drinks from it nice and slow as he watches Buck from behind, taking in his wide shoulders and broad hips and thick thighs and big feet. Eddie’s so lucky he can feel it in the marrow of his bones, like sprinkled stardust or something.  He wants to keep this moment forever, the two of them at peace in the kitchen together. Tuck it into a snow globe, maybe, and set it on the table right next to his bed so it’s one of the first things he sees every morning he wakes up.  As if sensing Eddie’s eyes on him, Buck looks over his shoulder and wrinkles his brow. “Why are you staring at me?” he asks, chuckling.  He’s perfect. The fire inside burns and Eddie can’t hold it in any longer.  “Because you’re so pretty.”  The pair of forks in Buck’s hand clatter loudly as he drops them. “Eddie,” he hisses, a half-warning, and spins around to face Eddie so fast he slides sideways on the festive little mat beneath his feet. “What—” “I love you.” Eddie takes another drink of his hot chocolate, chewing up a marshmallow. There’s only one left. “Did you know that?” 

read the rest on ao3

#that's a long snippet but i can't be bothered right now #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 fic #buddie fic #my fics #oh wait it's christmas fic number 3 btw

[thebest-medicine]

Lustige Geschichten

..a Crit-mas Story for @amazingmsme for Squealing Santa 2k23!!

A/N: Happy Holidays, Merry Chrysler, and Happy Critmas to the amazing @amazingmsme!!!!!! I absolutely loved all your prompts so I tried to combine a few, I hope you enjoy this lovely holiday gift! 💚 (and shout-out to @hypahticklish for organizing and coordinating and presiding over this year’s @squealing-santa)

Critical Role - Mighty Nein - ticklish!Caleb, featuring an assortment of very mean, lovely friends (most of the Nein)

[AO3 Link]

Words: 6.8k

Summary: Jester enjoys a nice story time, and Caleb, despite himself, has a fun evening under the persistent affection of his friends. Errrrybody hops on the tickle-the-wizard-out-of-his-keen-mind train. 

...

Caleb stretches his back a bit uncomfortably as he shifts in the wooden chair, having spent the last few hours in more or less the same spot —posture curled forward around the desk.

A cheerful, curious little ‘murrp’ catches his ear. He glances over to find one of the tower cats, Rudi, strolling toward him. 

“Mm, guten Abend, Rudi.”

Rudi trots over and rubs up against his legs. His whiskers tickle at Caleb’s ankle. 

He smiles, eyes still on his book. 

The light, fluffy feeling trails away a few moments later when Rudi pads over to the nearby sofa in the study outside Caleb’s bedroom. Rudi circles a few times before plopping himself down comfortably on a cushion. He ‘mrrow’s and chirrups a few times, tail flicking impatiently as he looks over at the wizard. 

“You know, if you wanted some attention you could go find Jester, you know how she loves to cuddle with you at night.” 

Rudi meows and rolls over, rubbing his head into the couch cushions. 

A few more minutes pass, not without an array of ‘meow’s calling to him, inviting him over. 

Caleb exhales, blowing a loose wisp of hair out of his face. “Mmm. You are making it rather hard to concentrate.” 

Rudi responds in kind with a trill, rolling back onto his belly. He stretches, then flops onto his other side again in a move to beckon the wizard over to the soft cushions next to him on the couch. He purrs loudly, and then lets out another trilling meow, looking expectantly at Caleb.

“Very well then.” Caleb sighs. “But I’m bringing my book.” 

Rudi wiggles, baring his belly as Caleb sits down, a fair bit more comfortable than the wooden chair. Caleb holds up his book in one hand and pats Rudi with the other. He still often denies himself comfort and kindness out of habit — but, it can be nice to be pushed into it by friends (and cats) around you.

“Thank you for the company.” Rudi’s resonating purr sends a wave of calm through Caleb where the cat is pressed up to his hand and thigh. 

“Hiiiii. You guys look cozy. Room for one more?” With a colorful blur and twirl around the corner into the doorway, Jester arrives on the scene, a cheerful smile apparent in her voice as she says. “Hey, Caleb.” 

Caleb hums in acknowledgement, turning the page in his book. “Hallo, Jester.” He says it without looking up, a dusting of pink on his cheeks at his unexpected guest.

In a few strides, the blue figure in his peripheral gets closer until he feels the couch dip next to him on the opposite side of where Rudi is curled up. “What are you reading?” 

“A book.” 

Jester harrumphs, shouldering against him with a pout. “A book about what?”

Caleb fights off a smile. He is already thoroughly distracted —so he’s made peace with ending his studies early. 

He pretends to turn the page and continue reading, and Jester lets out a whine in a pitch befitting Sprinkle. 

He lets her fester a few moments longer before he answers, failing to fully fight off his smile. “Just some texts on Pre-Calamity Exandria I borrowed from Essek’s library— well, it delves into some history as well as specifics on the spells and magic of the time, the ideas behind it, and the history of uses within various schools of the arcane.”

“Oh..” She scrunches up her nose. “I wanted to see if I could read with you. But that sounds pret-ty bo-ring.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

Jester’s tail lashes side to side, impatient and bored —two qualities that, when found in her, tend to lead to an afternoon of mischief. 

She sighs dramatically, leans her head on Caleb’s shoulder to look at the book.

Caleb hums again, turning the page.

“If I find you something more… fun to read… would you read it to me and Rudi?” She asks a few beats later.

Caleb’s eyes flick sideways to her, a soft smile on his lips. “Ja, sure, of course.” He turns the page. “None of your smut, though.” He adds, fighting down a smirk.

She sticks out her tongue, and he has the good graces not to call her on it. 

Getting up and roaming about his bookshelves, she begins. “Okay, okay. What’s a good one— ummm.. Let me look!” 

Caleb marks the page in his text as Jester fingers through his books. 

“Oh how about this one! Look at this guy, he’s so scary!” She makes a face, holding up the book. There’s a tall figure with wild, wiry, mad-scientist looking hair sprouting in every direction from his head — his face outstretched in a foul scream. His fingernails are longer than his hands themselves, and scatter, crooked, every which way from his hands. 

“Ah, that’s a Zemnian children’s classic.” Caleb sits fully upright on the couch, closing his book. 

Jester laughs out loud at that. “This is for kids?”

He sets his book down on the table beside him. “Ja. Der Struwwelpeter.”

Jester bounds over with a giggle, repeating the title in a silly imitation of Caleb’s accent. She plops down and quickly snuggles into the corner of the couch, then turns to Caleb, making grabby hands in his direction. 

His cheeks flush a little — as they always do in the face of such open affections — as he leans to sit closer to her on the couch. It’s not a moment before he feels her arm loop around his shoulders. 

“Oh— hi, ok.” Caleb lets out a nervous little laugh as she draws him closer. Rudi stands with a stretch.

“I wanna see the pictures- here, like this!” 

She shifts him, which he allows with a tired smile, until she’s laying against the arm of the couch and he is dragged back against her, back to chest, his legs over hers up on the couch cushions. Her head comes to rest gently on the mop of his orange hair.

“Perfect! Are you comfy?” Jester asks brightly.

Caleb snorts a little, settling in to his new position practically lying down on the couch. He pretends to be a bit put out, but sighs and stretches one leg out and it bumps into the other arm of the couch. He puts one ankle up on the arm and bends the other leg at the knee, getting comfortable. Rudi find himself a comfortable spot across Caleb’s thighs and plops down, continuing to purr.

“Alright, well let’s see,” he brushes off the cover. “‘Der Struwwelpeter, oder lustige Geschichten und drollige Bilder von Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann’ — this book is a compilation of funny children’s tales and illustrations.” He explains. 

“Which word means ‘funny’?” 

“It’s this word here, ‘lustig’.” Caleb points to the cover.

“Lustige,” she reads and then laughs.

He reads each of the two first pages in their original form, a cadence coming to his lips at the familiar text. She doesn’t understand what the words all mean, but it still sounds lovely, like an old song from far away. 

Then, the story putters to a stop as he pauses to explain to her what it says. 

He continues this way, reading, explaining, reading, explaining, holding up the book so Jester can look more closely at the pictures, scrutinizing.

A few pages deep, when he finishes the Zemnian, she suggests. “Hm.. When you tell me what it says… Can you do it in a silly voice?”

“Um-” Caleb is a master of changing many things, but his accent is not one of them. He laughs again, a little sheepish. “Okay…” 

He clears his throat and then —in a terrible, silly imitation of Jester— he explains what the passage says in Common. 

Jester laughs in delight and follows along. 

She ooh’s and ahh’s as Caleb reads each of the next pages in Zemnian and then explains what it says in his decidedly silly voice. 

Jester lets out a gasp at the next turn of the page. “Oohhhh my gosh, Caleb, it’s the guy from the front, look at his nails.” She grins, observing the full page of artwork depicting a large child —or, maybe, a small man— with wild hair that looked like it had just taken a bit too much lightning damage, and with fingernails grown out much longer than his fingers. They stretch wildly across the page. 

Caleb huffs out a little laugh. “Mmhm.”

And then, because she is Jester, she continues.  “Don’t you think they would be..” She brings her own nails up to trace gently along the shell of his ears. “Reaaaaally tickly?” 

A shiver runs down his spine. “Heh- ja, yes.” Caleb shakes his head a little, brushing off the flutter in his chest and flare of embarrassment. He takes one of his hands off of the book to swat at her hands. “You would love them, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I really would…” She smiles and wiggles a bit. “I would use them for so many pranks.. ooh and tickle fights. Oh, I would win every time.” 

Caleb’s hand has successfully deterred her fingers from his neck. 

But, he notes with a shiver, she just reaches down to pinch at his sides a few times instead. 

He squirms, readjusting. “You don’t need any extra help. You already do.” His elbows don’t quite clamp down to his sides, but come down enough to gently push her teasing fingers away. 

Caleb feels the energy of the evening beginning to shift. There’s something flittering about inside him at that, but he presses on with the task, and the conversation, at hand. 

But, a few more pokes and Caleb’s arms press down harder on instinct. “Jester— the book..” He reminds her, voice light with almost-laughter. 

The cat shifts in his lap, giving Caleb a look that perhaps on a human would look annoyed.

Jester pulls her hands away from his sides, but quickly redoubles her efforts back up on the side of his neck, quick and gentle. “Mmm. Right, right. Tell me more about ‘dar Schtruvvelpater’.”

“Hey- ehe- hey.” He snorts again, scrunching his neck. “Would you stop it— I-I’m trying to read to you.” His voice is light, fluttering, and it cracks with a laugh around the words —it all comes out a little more high pitched than he intended.

Jester lets out a whine, clearly wanting to continue both. “You can keep reading!” She giggles, pinching down his shoulders and around to the backs of his armpits.

“But—” He pleads, but then Jester’s hands are down around the bottoms of his ribs again. “Ah! Je- Jester I can’t—” He chokes out, snickering and wobbling back and forth between her pokes on either side of his rib cage. His elbows squeeze against his sides, trying in vain to protect himself while maintaining his hold on the novel.

Rudi yowls at them, indignant, and turns to plop up onto the back of the couch, curling up in the middle.

“Oh sorry Rudi!” She chuckles. “But, seriously Caleb—it’s fine, I don’t mind if you laugh!” Jester adds, and wiggles her fingers around and over his stomach. 

Laugh he does, pressing the book against his middle in a poor attempt at defense. His arms do their best to attempt to cover a few of his weak spots, but Jester doesn’t seem to mind the obstacle, easily finding others. She tuts at him and crawls her hands back up his sides. 

Jester’s fingers work their way up and then jump to his neck again. Caleb clings to the book for dear life, pulling it up to cover his face as he fights a continuous, losing battle with the giggles that Jester is keen to draw out of him. 

“Wait— hehe wait I- heh- I thought you wanted— aha- ah— y-you wanted me to read to you!” Laughter cracks through every word, climbing to the surface like weeds sprouting forth between the bricks of a worn path.

“Well I did—I do, but now—” She shifts her legs, wiggling to get them out from underneath Caleb and then wrapping them around his middle to block him in against her chest and the couch. “I thought of something else I wanna listen to.” 

Caleb cackles when Jester scribbles, unexpected and intently, over his lowest ribs. “Sch-scheiße! Oh noho- ahaHA NAHA-NEIN JESTER!” He nearly squirms out of her grasp, giggling and chasing her hands with his elbows —but, he’s no match for her leg muscles —plus, he’s still trying to hold onto the book. 

He just about jumps out of his skin when he suddenly picks up a green figure in his field of vision —Fjord, who somehow made it halfway across the room without Caleb’s notice. Shit.

Blushing further, the wizard closes his eyes and tries to hide his face between Jester’s shoulder and the couch. “No— don’t!” Caleb squeals between laughs as Fjord approaches.

“What are you two doing in here, hmm?” Fjord asks casually. 

Caleb shivers, envisioning the grin on his face. He sucks in a breath and clamps his mouth shut, convinced that maybe he can avoid getting someone else involved if he holds it together—if he just doesn’t laugh again for the next few seconds.

“He’s reading me a story!” Jester responds, chipper. 

“Oh, that sounds nice.” And then, closer. “Can I listen too? How can I help?” 

Caleb’s heart spins in a swirl of excitement and giddiness and nerves. “Nooooohoho.” He responds, unable to hold back the giggles from his words.

“Shh— I wasn’t asking you.” Fjord scolds. 

Caleb whines, a little indignant, with a laugh into the crook of his elbow.

“Oh I know!” Jester gathers excitedly, pointedly ignoring Caleb. “I’ll hold the book and turn the pages, and you can hold his hands because they are probably, like- so, so tired from holding the book up this whole time, hmm?” She nuzzles against Caleb’s ear then, teasing. “Right Caleb?” 

Caleb squirms, his legs kicking against the couch. “Mmmmf nooooo—”

“Great idea, Jes.” Fjord answers just as Caleb chokes out another desperate little sound of protest as he breaks down into laughter.

“Here, give me this.” Jester commands, ceasing her light, tickling pokes and reaching to take the book from Caleb’s hands. 

He shakes his head, curling his upper body inward protectively. “Nohohoo—” Caleb cries as she pokes at his neck with one finger, bringing his hands back in toward his face. 

Fjord’s hands wrap —firm and unyielding as any proper sailor’s knot— around Caleb’s small wrists. 

Caleb keens forward desperately with a high pitched laugh, and Jester pulls the book the rest of the way from his grip. “There we go! Okay, okay, now then...”

Jester holds the book up above them, flipping to the page they left off on. Meanwhile, Fjord, standing beside the couch, gently tows Caleb’s shaky arms up over red and blue mops of hair. 

Caleb giggles, a few anxious little sounds of anticipation making their way out in between. He tugs weakly at his arms as he is brought back down against Jester’s chest. “Hnnnmf— Fjord,” His voice is light, nervous. “W-wait—”

“Can you see okay? Keep reading, keep reading, go on!” Jester draws the book in toward his face. 

A few quick, giddy breaths, and then he manages to read the next line of text between little laughs, his voice shaky, before it’s cut off with a squeal. “und die —CH AHH AHA HAH— NEIN!” Jester has one hand off of the book and wiggles her fingers, close but not quite touching, just above his rib cage. He shakes his head. “Don’t- don’t tease! Bihihitte!” 

“Ha!” Fjord laughs at that, squeezing at Caleb’s wrists gently in comfort. “Oh? You’re asking Jester? Not to tease?” 

Caleb whimpers, shaking his head more. “I- I..”

Jester grins, pulling her hand even further away and dexterously wiggling her fingers at him. “If I was ‘dare Schtruvel Peter’ I could tickle you from all the way up here!” 

“Jester—” Caleb sounds like he’s about to die, his voice strangled.

“Are you gonna keep reading or are we just gonna have to put the book down and focus on tickling you?” She asks, a faux impatience in her voice. 

“No! HA NEIN DON’T! Please— I can’t!”

“Sure you can, go on then!” Jester teases, her fingers wiggling threateningly above his rib cage. 

Caleb shrieks and hides his head against his shoulder again.

“Alright… well, I guess you’ll have to finish the story later, then.” Jester sighs. “Fjord, can you—” She moves the book up over Caleb’s head, wiggling it in the air. 

“No wahahait! Wait—” Caleb shakes his head, trying to wriggle his arms free.

One of Caleb’s wrists is released so that Fjord can safely grab the old book and set it next to his other discarded pile on the table beside the couch. Immediately, the freed arm shoots down and presses against his side, blocking his ribs and armpit from Jester’s teasing. His hand then comes up to cover his red face. 

“Oh no you dont.” Fjord says with a sternness as he grips Caleb’s wrist once again, gentle but strong, and pries it up away from his face. 

Caleb struggles, he fights him on it with a smile on his face, despite his show of protest. 

Well, he struggles for all of three seconds before Jester pinches at the soft spot just under his ribs twice and Caleb flails, melting, and his already limited strength is rendered useless. Fjord gets both arms comfortably back up and pinned and leans over, smirking down at them. “Does that book have any stories about……… tickle monsters?” 

“Nein—” He snorts, giggles coming out faster as Jester wiggles both hands toward and away from his prone middle, never quite touching. “But I- I think I could heh—send in ideas for their nehehext publication.”

Fjord agrees with a hum. She is rather terrifying. 

“What’s that called in Zemnian, hmm Caleb?” Fjord asks.

“Ehehe— what?” 

“Yeah, yeah! How do you say ‘the tickle monster’!” Jester asks excitedly.

He thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hehe it would.. it would be ‘das Kitzelmonster’—” He snickers as he says it, blushing a bit more.

“Aww, that’s so cute. ‘Das Kitz el Monstar’.” Jester pokes at his ribs, whispering a quick, teasing ‘kitz kitz kitz kitz’ with each poke. 

As soon as she does this, Caleb jolts. He realizes, too late, that he’s just supplied a new and dangerous fuel for the already devastatingly effective teases they both are. His back rockets up and away from Jester, face flushing hot. “Staha- stop- no! N-HNN DOHOHON’T!” His legs kick up and in toward his middle, but are blocked by Jester’s legs wrapped around him. 

With nowhere else to go, they start kicking wildly into the air and at the couch. “BITTE! Don’t— don’t say that!” His voice cracks on a loud laugh, neck and ears red hot with embarrassment. 

Jester is known for her teasing and taking apart of defenses, and she’s unmistakably the resident tickle monster of the group. She’s tickled and teased Caleb more times than she can count. He is always a sucker for it —never fails to make things a little worse, a little more sensitive, a little more effective. 

But, this time, she notices, he seems even more desperate to get away from the teasing. “Aww, I know how much you looooove it when we talk about how ticklish you are…”

“B-Bitte— HAHA DON’T— don’t!” Caleb wails. 

“Is it even wooooorse when I say it in Zemnian? Heehee! What was it? Kitzelmonster? Kitzel? Aww are you too kitz-kitz-kitzel-ish Caleb?” She scratches gently at his sides.

Caleb does his best impression of a contortionist, wailing and struggling against her in a way that seems more keen to actually get away than just for show. 

“Did the Kitzelmonster get ya?” She giggles.

He’s taken much harder — and much worse — tickling before, and never reacted quite so viscerally to teasing. Jester feels an evil, delighted little twist in her stomach at the knowledge. 

“Eheehee no! HAHA JESTER— Please!! N-not that —don’t say it! Mist, stop it —please.”

“HMMMMmm.” She ponders loudly, gently fitting one unmoving fingertip after another into the grooves of his ribs. With his squirming, he’s essentially tickling himself at this point. “How about… if you ask me to tickle you, I’ll stop saying how cute and kitz kitz kitzel-ish you are!”

“NEIN!” Caleb shouts, indignant.

“I’ll even give you a little break first if you ask nice!” She offers with a laugh. “Because like, you kinda seem like you’re gonna die.” 

He says nothing, just laughs and shakes his head.

“Okay then.” He feels her shrug underneath him. Her hands pull away from his ribs. 

He takes a nervous, shaky breath —just in time for her fingers to walk up to Caleb’s rib cage under his shirt instead and start doing something very fast and very effective. 

He shrieks and breaks into desperate cackles. His laughter pitches up to a scream —and, just as quickly, she pulls her hands back out from under his shirt.

“Now, wanna try that again?” She opens and closes her hands like little claws, a few inches above Caleb’s sides. “Or do you want me to keep talking about how kitz-kitz-kitzel-ish poor little ticklish kitzel-ish Caleb is?” 

Caleb shakes his head with a surprising voracity, his body flailing and jolting. Fjord nearly loses his grip on Caleb’s wrists. 

Still not touching him, she wiggles her fingers, and Caleb laughs as though her claws are already taking him apart. 

“BITTE— NEIN!” He pleads. “AHA— STAHOP!”

She persists, voice dark and scary. “Oh nooooo, Caleb! The Kitzelmonster’s almost got you! And it brought its fri-ends!” 

As she speaks, teasing and throwing in every silly variation she can of the word that she can think of. 

Her voice gets quieter from Fjord’s perspective as she leans in close and continues, whispering into Caleb’s bright red ear. 

Jester teases in a way that should be outlawed, truly a cruel and unusual punishment. It’s— he’s… laughing and squirming so hard already, and- and no one’s even tickling him right now. 

Tears in his eyes, face red and blotchy, Caleb eventually whimpers out —his voice desperate, breathless, “Jester- enough, STOP stop- stop saying it, plehehehehease! Okay! Okay— ehehe! Stop!” He groans. “Just- just tickle meheHEHEEHEE—” 

Her fingers zip in to do just that as Jester giggles triumphantly. “By the way, next time we do this, I’m gonna make you tell me how to ask for it in Zemnian.” She adds casually.

Through silly giggles, he asks. “NE-NEIN- Jester, ahaha, wh-why?” His eyes flutter shut.

Fjord laughs, the sound radiating warmth into Caleb’s skin. “She really is an evil little ‘Kitzelmonster’, isn’t she?” 

“Fjord!” Jester scolds with a giggle as Caleb lets out a pathetic squeal in protest at his words. 

Caleb’s legs fly into the air, kicking at imaginary targets yet too uncoordinated to hit even those. His laughter rings out loudly in the room as Jester pokes and scritches under his arms.

“You look like you’re ready to try out for the circus.” 

The sudden appearance of Mollymauk’s voice sends a chill down Caleb’s spine. 

His head snaps over to confirm that, yes, Molly is leaning casually in the doorway. Smile on his face. Mischief in his eyes. Fingers twitchy in a way he gets when he really wants something (and that ‘something’, often, is to draw lovely laughter from those close to him). 

“But really, Caleb, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep floundering about like that.”

“Hi Molly! Oh, you’re right. I did say I’d give him a break,” Jester smiles, bringing her hands down to rest on his thighs, not tickling.

Caleb’s deep breath out is fizzling with anxious snickers. “Ehehehe M-Mollymauk.. Molly. Molly—” How long has he been standing there? 

“Yes?” Molly purrs, drawing into the room. 

Caleb looks up at the ceiling, whimpers. “Please,” a breath, “you’ll— ehe they’ll— you’re killing mehehehee.” 

“I’m killing you? Ha. Well. It’s a good thing Jester’s close by.” Molly smirks, then, dramatically winces with a waiver of his hand. “Mm. Well, I bet Caduceus isn’t far anyway.” 

“Hey! Rude!” Jester shifts to stick her tongue out at Molly. “Anyway. Don’t you think he’s had enough of a break? Go get his feet!” 

“What? No wait! But you barely—” Caleb cries out, drawing his legs as close to his chest as possible. 

“You bet-ter put those back down…” Jester threatens, tracing featherlight circles into the skin of his sides, just under his shirt. 

“No!” Caleb wails in protest. His flailing kicks begin anew.

Well, if he’s going to be stubborn about it… Molly strolls to the other end of the couch, chuckles, and then, like a cat watching a flock of birds, begins batting at Caleb’s legs and dodging kicks, hunting for the perfect in.

Uncoordinated, tickled, and giddy with laughter, Caleb doesn’t make it long before Molly’s towing one of his ankles down to the end of the couch with a victorious snicker. 

“Got one!”

His other leg keeps kicking wildly, still unclaimed. 

There’s a mixture of Common and Zemnian (or at least an attempt at them) in between loud, boisterous, shrieking laughs as Molly swipes a finger up and down his sole.

Jester moves her fingers up, two on each side, scritching lightly into Caleb’s armpits. 

Meanwhile, Molly fully disregards the free foot in order to devote his focus to holding down Caleb’s ankle and wiggling more fingers under scrunched toes. 

Molly gets a claw under and between some just as Jester adds more fingers to his underarms, and Caleb makes a sound so loud and desperate that he’s glad —somewhere in his mind where he can remember to be— that they is in his tower and not in the middle of a tavern room, surrounded by other rooms, with people around. 

In the moment, he fails to consider, however, that there are in fact still people in the tower. 

Caleb’s not thinking about that, though. In fact, he’s not thinking about much at all right now, other than how badly this tickles. 

“You have ten seconds to put your other leg down, or I’m gonna have Molly come up here and help me get your ribs.” Jester offers as a threat, pausing her tickling, as does Mollymauk.

A beat of silence aside from quavering laughter, then Caleb asks. “Wh-when… when did you become so evil?”

Jester giggles. “Always been!” And then she blows a raspberry on his neck. 

“AAAII— OKAY!” 

She stops —and then, denying his better instincts, Caleb brings his other leg down shakily. He allows Molly to wrap both ankles up in the crook of his elbow. 

The free purple hand wiggles delightedly, a few inches away from the trapped soles before him. He looks back over his shoulder at Caleb —who looks absolutely lovely when he’s devastated in this way.  

Caleb protests without any conviction. “This is— very unfair.” 

Jester pokes down his rib cage and over to his tummy. 

“Plehe— oh nohoh-AHA haha noooo—” Caleb squirms, his head rolling back with laughter. 

Just then, she starts to lightly spider her fingers over his stomach, while Molly does the same technique, alternating over each foot. Fjord watches each of them fondly, Jester clearly having the time of her life — she really is a ‘Kitzelmonster’. They take turns, not wanting to completely overwhelm the tired, scrawny wizard, with Molly and Jester each watching the other and commenting on Caleb’s reactions.

When Caleb opens his blurry eyes again, a few minutes and endless laughs later, he sees Veth, looming over the back of the couch next to a curled up Rudi. She gives him a smug, knowing little smile. It can be intense, electric, unbearable at times —being tickled —but Caleb has confessed under the influence of alcohol and ticklish duress that he doesn’t hate — or even enjoys, much to his chagrin — the opportunities that come up in his life for his brain to slow down and fog up a little bit, til there is no room for guilt and worry. He is in (many) good hands, after all. But, it’s nice to know she knows, she’ll be there, she’ll help take him apart a little too, if she likes, and, eventually, she’ll help reign in the tieflings if he needs her to. 

Caleb can’t hold her gaze for long, his eyes close just as Jester’s fingers start poking into his sides repeatedly. 

A moment later he gasps, curling his head and neck sideways at the first flutter of a light, fluffy edge of a feather along the shell of his ear. 

“Ehe- staha— Veheheheth!” Caleb stutters out through laughter. He attempts a peak at her and finds one of her feather-fall feathers held neatly in her mage hand, twirling about just beside his head. “Ahaha— nein!”

“What is this? You guys threw a wreck-the-wizard party without me?” Beau’s voice cuts through the already overwhelmed sensory input in Caleb’s brain. 

His voice is shrill, desperate in response. “No— hehehe nononono— Beheheheaureagard! Aha gehehehet out of hehehere! NOHOHOHO!” 

“Oh, please. Don’t bother.” Beau’s response is rippling with smug laughter as she waves dismissively at him. 

Caleb soon becomes aware of a hand wrapping around his shins a few moments after she speaks. He curses between laughs and hopelessly tries again to kick his legs. 

Beau moves one arm behind his legs and squeezes at his calf muscle once, twice, an attempted scolding for his jolts and kicks of protest. Caleb shrieks. Everyone freezes — it almost feels as though time stops for a moment. 

Caleb yelps when she does it again, his breath sucking in a half-second later. 

Jester peaks over Caleb’s shoulder. “Oooh, what did you do?” Her hands idle over Caleb’s sides. 

Molly looks over his shoulder, smug and grinning. “Look— I knew your knees were bad… but.”

“Looks like someone’s a little ticklish here.” Beau smirks, letting out a little evil laugh. She squeezes the back of Caleb’s leg again, a few inches below his knee. 

“No!” He cries out, laughing. “Dohohon’t—”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? Laugh?” Beau snickers and begins squeezing the back of each of his legs, up and down the calf muscles. She kneels down beside the couch, finding the perfect angle. Meanwhile, Molly keeps Caleb’s ankles locked up in a solid, tight hold, enjoying the show. 

Caleb wails out a few more wheezy protests between cackles as Beau tickles up and down his legs. “Don’t! Beauhoho— hahaha stAHAHOP!” 

Jester wriggles underneath him as she repositions and trails her hands down.. down.. down as far as she can, lightly tickling down his ribs and sides as she goes, squeezing his hips, past where her own legs are wrapped around his middle. She reaches out, grabbing in the air at Beau’s hands —fingers still a decent distance from tickling anywhere near his calves or knees. “Ha! You’re ticklish everywhere Caleb!” Jester giggles into his ear. 

“Yeah, how’d you manage to hide this spot from us for so long?” Beau asks. “Are your legs this sensitive all the way up and down?” She pinches at the backs of his ankles all the way up to his knees, then continues up, squeezing around his thighs. 

“Ehehe- no! Leheheheheave them alone!” Caleb cries. 

“Not a chance, man- ha! They so are— look at you!” She pinches at a spot a few inches below his knee that gets him kicking — or, well, trying his best to. “You’re fucking ridiculous!” She laughs.

Caleb lets out a noise somewhere between a snort and a plea. His laughter and thrashing continue to grow frantic. 

Beau leans against the couch and wraps Caleb’s knees up in one arm. She pinches and squeezes the backs of his calves with her free hand, a smug grin on her face. 

Mollymauk’s tail joins her hand and tries to wiggle against the backs of his legs and knees. Meanwhile, his fingers keep up a quick tempo fluttering across Caleb’s wiggling feet. 

“Eeheehee whahahahah-why are you tryhihing to kill mehehehee!?” Caleb cries out. 

Jester watches delightedly as Beau and Molly drive him up the wall. She holds tight with her legs as he squirms and wriggles, desperate for escape. 

“Aww, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” Jester answers him, wiggling her fingers in a tease a few inches above his armpits. “We wouldn’t do it if you weren’t having fun!” 

Caleb turns somehow even more red at that and lets out a pathetic little peal of laughter in response to her teasing.

Veth’s mage hand moves down to start poking at his top rib just under his armpit on the side nearest the couch. 

“Ehe— no! Neihihein! Bitte!” He squirms to the side, only to meet Jester’s finger on the other side.

Molly and Beau pause to rearrange a bit, trying to figure out the best way to hold his legs while also watching his helpless little squirms. 

Caleb sputters out giggles and half-worded pleas.

Jester ponders aloud. “I should probably call Yasha and Caduceus… I feel like they’re going to be preeeeeetty bummed if they miss this. I know I would be.” 

“No— no!” Caleb squeaks. 

Molly wiggles a finger up and down Caleb’s arch while Beau squeezes just above his knee. 

“Ugh. You’re right, Caleb. There’s barely any room for us. You need to make the couch in here bigger next time you bring up the tower.” Jester chastises, poking at his side in light, random patterns. “There’s not enough room for everyone.” 

Caleb whimpers into his bicep through laughter. 

“I have an idea..” Fjord grins, transferring Caleb’s wrists to one hand and reaching down with the other to squeeze and tickle at both his and Jester’s sides below. 

Caleb cackles with a renewed desperation, while Jester cries out. “Hehehee- hey! Hah-” She gasps in fake offense before breaking into giggles.

“Let’s move ‘im to the bed.” Fjord finishes his thought with a few pokes under Caleb’s arm. 

“Mmmf— nooooo heh—” Caleb protests weakly, his face tingling with a happy, giddy silliness —sweet and warm under his skin like fresh honey. 

Fjord releases his wrists and reaches down with both hands, and —easily besting the now flailing arms— hooks his hands underneath Caleb’s shoulders and around to his armpits. He lifts up. Caleb squeals. Fjord wiggles his fingers a bit. Caleb makes some kind of choked laugh. 

Then Caleb is shaking his head more fervently as Beau reaches to lift him under his knees.  Mollymauk releases his ankles with a grin.

“Bitte, you-you’ve had your fun! Y-you’re killing me! Mercy!” Caleb pleads, his eyes wide as Beau and Fjord make quick work of lifting him up.

He scrambles for any sort of anchor or purchase —a steady moore out in the sea of giddiness and laughter he’s found himself caught and floating in. 

“Hey!” Almost on cue, a familiar sensation of Jester’s claws make their reappearance on his sides. “That’s mine! Give him back!” She scolds.

“NAHA— ehehehee, don’t!” Caleb can’t stop himself from squirming and flinching away as Jester’s fingers prod and tickle at the wizard above her. 

She snickers, delighted, and her fingers follow along for as long as she can reach him. Noticing this, Fjord and Beau seem to take an extra long time moving him up and away from the couch —and out of tiefling range —over to the bed. 

Finally, he’s out of Jester’s range. His breath comes in shakily as they deposit him gently on his mattress. He’s red-faced, tears welling up in his eyes with a few running messily down his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut to hide from the scrutiny and knowing smiles of his companions above. 

“Hee- oh nohoho—” Caleb whimpers with a smile. He reaches up with a shaky hand and grips one of his pillows, dragging it down over his head to shove his burning face into. 

“Aww, Caleb! Are you hiding from us?” Jester’s voice alone draws an extra giggle from him behind his pillow. 

Caleb shakes his head behind the pillow.

“Come onnnnn, where’s that smile?” The mattress sinks as she climbs onto it near him.

“Nooooooo..” Caleb whimpers, wrapping both arms around the pillow and smushing it tighter against his face. It doesn’t do much to muffle his anticipatory laughter. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Jester scoffs. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Caleb’s legs kick at that, drumming against the bed as it dips a few more times —Molly and Veth, he concludes, since Jester is already looming next to him and Fjord and Beau still have hands on his shoulders and knees. 

“Alright, come on, let’s get him already!” Beau declares impatiently. 

“Ah, I love the spirit, Beauregard, but it can be so much fun to drag it out —build him up, topple him over…” Molly traces a delicate nail down Caleb’s chest. Caleb shivers deliciously. The claw lifts away.

Jester snickers. “We already tickled him like soooo much on the couch, Molly, he’s already all mush-brain. Come on!”

“Oh alright —you’re right, you’re right.” Molly shrugs, crawling his way up to Caleb’s other side.

Caleb wails into the pillow when two sets of tiefling claws touch down gently over his midriff with purpose, leaving teasing trails down his sides and over his stomach and lowest ribs. “Mmpppph- n- nahaha- oh nohohoho— eheh oh dohohohon’t! Bitte! Mmmf-aha ahahaha! Please— please!” 

Fjord leans down, taking Caleb’s hands with ease into his own and pulling them up over his head. He adjusts, laying on the bed while keeping Caleb’s arms trapped against the mattress. He shifts the pillow over and off of him so that he can get in close to Caleb’s pink face, then nuzzles into the side of his hair. 

“Mmm. It’s too bad I can’t use my hands.”

Caleb feels some quiet relief at that. Maybe a little disappointment too, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to focus on that. 

Still, some sliver of Caleb’s mind registers the rumbling chuckle Fjord gives as dangerous as he continues. “—I guess I’ll have to improvise, then.” 

Caleb’s voice catches in his throat as Fjord’s words take on meaning just in time for lips and scruff to brush right up against Caleb’s ear. 

“Eeheehee- ah! Yeehehehee- you— aha- no NO plehease!” 

“Aww, he’s soooooo cute!” Jester squeaks with a few pinches to his ribs. 

Caleb jolts under them with a whine. “Ha- aha I- noooo— I’m —ahahaha I’m not!” 

“Yes! Yes you are!” She pinches his cheek just as Fjord sucks in a breath. Helpful little Kitzelmonster she is, Jester brushes Caleb’s hair away from the side of his neck.

“Nein!” Caleb cries as the breath comes out as a vibrating, ticklish, raspberry on his neck. 

Caleb is soon lost to cackling laughter as Molly and Jester prod and tickle at his middle while Fjord mouths along his neck and ear. And it isn’t too long before he registers two sets of blunt nails —Beau and Veth, his mind helpfully provides— that have touched down on his feet. He doesn’t even try to kick beyond the instinctive flinching away —he knows he’s not going anywhere. 

The feeling— a mindless bliss not unlike that of an evening spent polymorphed —builds slowly. But, soon enough, Caleb’s mind feels light, unbothered and untethered, as his thoughts swirl and spark with the ticklish input from what seemed like every nerve. There is a… a warmth that accompanies it, one that Caleb comfortably slips into with a strange familiarity as though it is where he had always belonged. 

Jester’s voice cuts through the sound of Caleb’s laughter as she begins her sending spell.  “Hey, Yasha? Are you with Caduceus—” Fjord briefly gets a panicked look in his eye as she starts, jerking his head back and realizing he can’t count her words out as easily. He taps his fingers into the skin of Caleb’s wrists one at a time in counting as she continues, “you guys should come up to Caleb’s room, we’re having a lot of fun! Hurry up you don’t wanna—” 

Caleb feels Fjord’s fingers wiggle individually against the thin skin of his arms. They aren’t the only ones —all in all, he registers Jester’s fingers fluttering around under his arm and pinching at his lower ribs with her other hand, Molly’s claws spidering menacingly over his belly, Beau’s arm tight around his ankles, her fingers pulling back his big toes while Veth wiggles her nails all over his feet. His mind feels dizzy and fizzling —some kind of gelatinous consistency, perhaps. 

One of Caleb’s last coherent thoughts is that it was at least a mercy (or… was it a tragedy?) that this hadn’t happened in Beau’s room, where he could have ended up having to watch this giggling, disheveled vision of himself taken apart in the mirror over her bed by his friends.

As it is, he simply closes his eyes and lets himself be lost, swimming safely in the sea of hands poking at him from every direction. 

…

Zemnian (German) | English Translations: von - from bitte - please nein - no der Struwwelpeter - the ‘shock-haired’ Peter (book) lustige Geschichten - funny/amusing stories drollige Bilder - funny pictures Scheiße - shit  Mist - crap/shit  das Kitzelmonster - the tickle monster guten Abend - good evening Mm yeah ..and I’m just going…to include these… kitzeln - tickle (verb)  kitzlig / kitzelig - ticklish  das Kitzel/n - the tickle / the tickling (noun)

…

ADDITIONAL AUTHORS NOTES:

A/N: And now friends and readers who are still here, if you look to your…down — what you’ll see are some fun notes I did and things I learned while researching things for this story — also side note — it’s been about 10 years since, but I took 5 years of German from middle to high school, I’m not by any means fluent but I remember decent enough (and I had the power of the internet and search engines on my side)!!: 

ANYWAY — I wanted to figure out some strange quirky little Deutsch storybook that I could have Caleb have in his library, something with a catchy (see also: silly) cover or title that would draw Jester’s eye..

Found this very quickly with a search for German children’s stories. &lt;— yeah, my silly little lee brain was like “lol those nails” immediately — had to use. 

Fic title was inspired from the book cover and title / description

Link to the book on Amazon 😆 

Did a decent amount of skimming and looking over, I was immediately thinking German fairy tale / kids story, and they’re usually kind of brutal in Germany. 

Did cross my mind to use der Katzenprinz or not go into as much detail on the book, or have her try to convince him to read Tusk Love… 😏 😈  

Oh great! (affectionate) now am I gonna have to write that? (compulsive)

Yes! 

I was conflicted on which translation to use to refer to Jester in ‘Zemnian’. I saw Hoffnar (court jester, king’s fool) , Narr/Närrin (fool, jester, joker), and Spaßmacher (joker, jester, clown) but literal translation of this one is fun-maker which I feel fits Jester very well. She makes fun, is fun, joke, jests, and is all around silly and teasy the whole fic so. Yes bby girl. In the end I ended up scrapping this longer title but it was essentially gonna be "Lustige Geschichten von der Spamacherin" but twas shortened.

Moving on from the language and literature … the em..um… erm.. position was inspired from this lovely video (also recently found out she’s very happily lee and I’m like YES GIRL. ITS SO MUCH MORE DJFJFJJG TO SEE AND KNOW THEY LOVE/HATE/LOVE IT hsjsjdkf. Truly inspiring. What good friends. Caleb deserves to be in her position. 

List of some of the lovely prompts / ideas that inspired parts of the story - original prompts in green:

Critical Role c2

1. Caleb & anyone

2. Fjord & Jester

3. Caleb & Fjord

4. Essek & anyone

5. Any combo of the mighty nein you’d like

me: yess. yes. now that I’m making this I realize Essek isn’t there. (Neither are cad or yasha, they’re… meditating and drinking tea). Essek needs to have a turn helping them melt Caleb.

A has noticed that B is acting much sadder & moody than usual, little do they know that B is hamming it up in the hope of getting cheer up tickles. Whether the beans are spilled or not is up to you ;) (by beans I mean the fact they were trying to fake it)

me: I had a few ideas from various prompts floating around in my mind but also sometimes these fics just flow out of my brain — they go where they decide they’re gonna go! I’m sure you know! Anywho, it doesn’t exactly go into sad and moody but stoic and boring and drawing the silliness out of them. 

We love a good flustered blushing silly Caleb, we also love a stubborn little journey to get there while slowly losing his composure. 

I feel that Caleb knew what would happen as soon as Jester 

a. sat on the couch with him

b. picked out the book

c. asked him to read to her, or

d. pranced into the room.

But either way he was #ready to be silly as soon as she came in - some serious #leebehavior immediately winding her up 

A has really ticklish calves & B finds out while pinning them to tickle their feet, & they immediately switch targets

me: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR VERY OWN BEAUREGARD LIONETT PLEASE!!! 

TICKLISH CALVES! TICKLISH LEGS! AHH!

I love this so much fr fr fr fr 

See, but…. What if you have multiple friends and multiple hands… :D

A has been trying to get B’s attention when it becomes clear they’re deliberately being ignored.

me: love this trope so much

Caleb’s brain: I MUST ANTAGONIZE JESTER IMMEDIATELY. BUT SWEETLY.

Caleb’s brain: tells Jester how to say ‘tickle’ in his native tongue

Caleb’s brain a few min later: in turmoil over why he makes it soooooo much worse for himself — well for a few more minutes until he gets all wobbly and brain-buzzy

A either has something B wants or won’t do their job & need some convincing in the form of B’s tickling fingers

me: inner Jester monologue ‘Come on Caleb. Read the book. Read it. Do a silly voice. Read while I poke at your ribs. I don’t mind if you laugh. Come on keep trying. Okay I guess Fjord and I are just gonna drop the playful ruse. But you’re finishing that book for me later.’

Final Author's Note —

I hope this holiday gift pleases you, my dear @amazingmsme! Happiest Squealing Santa to Thee! 2023! I’m so happy I got you for the exchange and I hope you have a wonderful holiday season and new year!!!!!!!!!! 

#amazingmsme #squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #critickle role #lee!caleb #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT PLS ENJOY #IT WAS A BLAST TO WRITE AND TO SEND YOU LITTLE SNIPPETS THROUGH THE DAYS LEADING UP TO CHRISTMAS #I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL HOLIDAY #ticklish!caleb #gives me life #tickle fic #tickling #mine #critical role #fluff #funny stories #ler!jester #ler!mollymauk #ler!fjord #ler!beauregard #ler!veth #poor bb caleb #its ok he has fun #mage hand tickles #tickles #teasing #story time #lustige Geschichten #cr #cr fic

[iceman-maverick]

it's still wip wednesday somewhere (icemav christmas fluff)

i manically pumped out +8k of a little fluffy two-shot about carol throwing a christmas secret santa party. will be posting to ao3 probably this weekend, if not on christmas day itself :)

here's a fun little snippet for wip wednesday (look @oathkeeperoxas @adiduck are you proud of me for actually doing this for once LOL)

Bradley nearly pitched a perfect game, all those hours of practice with his uncles finally paying off. And Carol was so proud, so stinking proud, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that the highlight of the night was winding up Pete. 

“So Tom,” She asked, shivering into Nick’s old bomber, “Have you got your Santa’s gift all set?” 

“I think I do,” He smiled somewhat distractedly, eyes glued to Bradley’s every move on the field. She had to remind herself that this was Pete’s beau now, even if he himself didn’t know it. Yes, Iceman was off the market, hearts breaking across the world because Pete Mitchell was in love. 

“Wasn’t too hard to stay in the budget, I hope,” Carol said, schooling her laughter into a tight smile as Pete kicked angrily at the dirt beside her. 

“Nah,” Tom turned to Pete after he had sent a particularly large rock flying, “What about you, Mav? Got your gift set?”

“Fucking Christ, yes I told you already,” Pete snapped, but he regretted it instantly, that much was obvious. The complicated emotion that flickered across Tom’s eyes was too subtle for Carol to decipher but Pete deflated and continued in a much softer tone, “I just hope they like it,” 

Carol was obsessed with them, could barely contain her excitement over their hesitant, awkward fumbling over one another. It was like her own personal General Hospital . 

“Well Mav, knowing you” Ice smiled into his coffee “I bet you nailed it,” 

Pete quirked his lip up slightly, and swung his foot back and forth through the dirt. He looked as if he was going to say something but then stopped. He tilted his head up and shook his head with a small smile and lightly bumped his shoulder against Tom's. 

She was obsessed. 

#wip wednesday #top gun fanfiction #icemav #iceman x maverick #carol bradshaw #christmas fluff #my writing #snippet #top gun #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky

[laffy-taffy-creations]

An Cumhachd A Thig Le Cùram

The Power That Comes With Caring

This is my secret santa gift for @esperosisdoeswriting! Their prompt was Villain and/or monster dad that is quite evil but very much loves and adores his power-less child. Found family highly encouraged. I hope you like it Esper!

WARNINGS: violence, death, cussing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Supervillain was shoved in the direction of the cop car. "Alright, ALRIGHT I'm going! Fuck off!" he said while walking in that direction.

How angry he was. These stupid heroes treating him like nothing more than a herd cattle! It was infuriating.

If Child weren't nearby he'd tear out the throats of everyone around him.

He sat down in the back and was closed in there for a bit. Apparently getting him into custody wasn't the first priority.

He heard squabbling. One of the voices sounded like Child. They were probably so scared right now, those heroes taking their parent away from them, no wonder they were resisting.

Eventually the car started moving, the person in the passenger's seat asking Supervillain questions.

"Yes, I kidnapped them." "No, that kid is not someone I kidnapped." "My history of torture does not apply here." "Those heroes? They're dead. Pissed me off too much while I held them hostage, kept asking for food or water." "Her screams were oh so delightful. You should've been there." "Leave the kid out of this."

He had no reason to hide anything he did. Infact he took much pride in all his crimes.

And why wouldn't he? He was Supervillain. He marked everything thoroughly once he realized the cops would never find him.

He was… ticked off about that, to say the least. Child was just a kid. A powerless one at that. If there was ever a group of people that would take advantage of them, exploit them, even abuse them, it would be the police and heroes.

Except now they had. And now they had Child too.

They arrived at the agency. "C'mon, get out. We're putting you in custody."

"No."

"No?" one of the heroes sneered.

"Tell me where my kid is or I'm not getting out of this damn vehicle."

Laughter. Laugher that made the supervillain see red. Laughter that made him almost break the cuffs right then and there.

"Tell me where they are right now or so help me-"

He was cut off by a sniggering hero, "You're infront of a hero agency. Whatever you do, you have an army's worth of heroes to contend with. You ain't gonna do shit."

"Tell me where they are."

A superior walked up to the group. "What's the hold up? I need him in a cell, STAT."

"He won't leave the car unless we tell him where the kid we found in his house is."

You fuckers that's my child.

The superior sighed. "Just tell him, we can't waste anymore time."

One of the heroes rolled their eyes then turned to Supervillain. "Fine. They're being brought to our agency and held in an interrogation room for a while where you can't get to them while we figure out why they were there."

He finally stepped out of the car, satisfied with that. Child would be here too. He was okay with that.

He was led down into the facility, celebratory cheers following him at every turn while the heroes led him on.

Something isn't right.

He could sense it. Deep down. Call it parental instinct. Something was wrong.

He stopped moving. The heroes started shouting at him, pushing, trying to drag him. He tuned them out. Their methods didn't work as his body didn't budge.

Then, he heard it.

His child was screaming.

And so the cuffs broke.

Red, red, everything was red as the screams turned from a child's fear to adults' pain. He lashed out, tearing out their throats, hearts, lungs, whichever of the vital body parts was closest.

The shadows of his power stretching far and wide and terrorizing the whole damn agency.

He would not stop until he found his kid.

Rushing through the halls, leaving marks across every surface his shadows scraped. Like a wild beast searching for its prey.

You fuckers better pray to whatever gods you follow that I'll be quick.

People started fighting back, there was electricity, punches, force fields, weapons. None of it was Child. And so the rage continued.

He hunted, hunted, tracking down the heroes that stole his child, took them from his home.

Clawing his way through the bodies separating him from his kin.

And there they were. Child, crying, backed against a wall while Supervillain crushed the skull of the hero they were cowering from.

His mind cleared, his child was in front of him. And he had just killed.

Out of everything, that was his one rule. No villainy in front of his kid. In front of Child. But now…

He walked forward, wary. Would they even look at him the same? Would there be fear in their eyes?

He knelt down in front of them. "Hey. I'm… sorry you had to see that. I understand if you're-"

"PAPA!" Child suddenly lunged forward and buried their head in his chest, sobbing and shaking like a leaf.

He was stunned, to say the least. "Yeah, it's me." He stroked their hair a little bit.

They cried and cried, finally safe, finally secure. They didn't care that Supervillain had just murdered every hero in the building, they were finally okay because their father was here.

And he wasn't leaving them any time soon.

He wasn't Hero afterall.

#lt speaks #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #creative writing #lt n friends #my writing #writerscommunity #villains and heroes #heros and villains #secret santa #christmas #merry christmas #christmas gift #secret santa snippets

[cherrycreamfairy]

this pretty much speaks for itself

sometimes certain things don't work well in live action unless its sonic or pokemon lol

#but seriously #i had no idea that a live action adaptation of a year without a santa clause was a thing #IN 2006 EVEN #i just now discovered it and saw small snippets of it #and i really dont like it #like wtf have they done with my boi Snow Miser #why dafuq does he have a beer belly???? #wtf happened to my lovable tall skinny boi??? #WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOUUUUUU #just oof #the miser brothers #a year without a santa claus #a miser brothers christmas #snow miser #heat miser #rankin bass

[hexiewrites]

and there was only!!! one!!!! bed!!!!!!!!!!

#steddissy #stedissy #hex is writing #GOD I LOVE THEM #i need a tag if i keep sharing snippets #hex's christmas crimes #there you go #lexsspicysixwinterchallenge #is that the tag??? #anyways this is for that #its very out of hand #i have 22000 words #and I'm not even at the prompt yet #oops!!!! #anyways don't worry about it!

[fiveht]

December 23

First things first: I made a playlist when I wrote Disarm, and it contains all the songs that play in Remus' car, plus a lot more. Just a nice little sampler of 90s alternative. I listened to it a lot while I was writing it, and it's not like, essential to the story, but just in case anyone's interested, here it is! It even includes that one Nine Inch Nails song that Remus so hastily skipped.

I've been writing less than I'd like for the past couple of weeks, due in large part to the dumpster fire that I call my personal life. But I spent this weekend hanging with my soulmate @sadbookboys and managed to get some words on paper, so to speak.

So let's call this proof of life for the sequel to Disarm You With a Smile; I'm working on it, I swear. Here's a little snippet from their first morning together, on December 23.

Sirius is a warm weight on Remus' chest when he wakes, streaky yellow sunrise slipping into the room in the gaps between the dark curtains and the wall. There's no reason to move yet, no reason to do anything, so Remus just shuts his eyes again, giving himself a few minutes to appreciate. Sirius' chest rises and falls in the deep, even rhythm of sleep, and Remus can feel it, can feel the soft puffs of air on his skin. A warm hand rests on his ribcage beneath the covers, and one heavy leg is thrown over both of his. Remus thinks about Sirius rolling over in his sleep, seeking contact, throwing himself bodily over Remus and settling there. He wonders how long they've been lying like this. His back is probably going to give some protests once he tries to move, but he finds it difficult to care about that. He finds it difficult to care about much of anything aside from the weight of Sirius on top of him.

Opening his eyes again, he looks down. Sirius' dark lashes are smudges on his pale cheekbones, and Remus gently brushes a lock of hair away from his face. This is a version of Sirius he's never seen, couldn't have seen before now, and he plans to memorise it. 

He plans to document it.

Slowly, carefully, he reaches toward his nightstand, groping around until his fingers find his phone. The light in the room is low, but Sirius is so pale, the camera has no trouble resolving the details of his face. Remus takes a picture.

He's just dropped his phone onto the bed beside him when he feels Sirius' fingers twitch, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

"Morning," he says, his eyes still closed, his voice rough with sleep and with-- well. Last night wasn't exactly easy on his throat. Remus feels a frisson of arousal skate up his spine. 

Sirius' fingers are stroking up the side of his ribcage, and Remus catches his hand, pulling it out of the covers to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"Morning, baby," he says softly, "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm," Sirius hums, tilting his face up and opening his eyes to smile up at Remus. "Your bed is amazing."

"Good," Remus says. Gently, he eases Sirius off him, rolling him onto his back, following so he can press a kiss to Sirius' shoulder, then his jutting collarbone, then the hollow of his throat. "I have a small confession."

"Oh?" Sirius says, boneless and pliant, sinking into the pillows, still half asleep.

"Mmm-hmm," Remus says, nosing under Sirius' jaw and letting himself breathe in the scent of his skin. "I took a picture of you while you were sleeping."

He feels Sirius' chest twitch with a huff of laughter. "I gave you permission."

"You did," Remus agrees, mouthing at the pulse point in Sirius' throat, his hand trailing across his chest, fingers catching on a nipple. "I just feel like I should tell you when I do it without your knowledge."

"S'okay," Sirius says, sounding a little more awake now, a little more present. "I like it."

"You just looked so pretty," Remus says, tracing Sirius' nipple with a gentle fingertip, feeling it harden into a little peak. "Soft and sweet in my bed."

He mouths a kiss into his sternum and feels Sirius' hand in his hair, just carding through it softly.

"I can't stop touching you," he says into Sirius' skin, though he didn't really plan on saying it at all. It's just the dominant thought in his mind, and has been since yesterday. It might be a problem, but he's having trouble seeing it that way at present.

"I don't remember asking you to," Sirius says, his breath hitching as Remus' fingers trail lightly down his ribs. He's so ticklish.

"But what if I can never stop?" Remus says, smiling, moving lower to mouth at the flat plane of Sirius' stomach. "What if I just have to take you everywhere from now on? Make you come to all my classes… have you sit in my lap during office hours… because I'll just go crazy if I can't have my hands on you every second of the day?"

"I'm sure the university will understand," Sirius says, and Remus glances up to see him biting his lip, smiling, watching him.

"I'll be a living example of an attachment disorder," he nuzzles Sirius's navel, pressing another kiss there. "God, you're so fucking pretty."

Remus trails his hand over Sirius' sharp hip bone, smoothing down to grip his thigh lightly.

"Daddy," Sirius breathes, and Remus closes his eyes as arousal washes over him in a wave. That fucking word. How many times did Remus hear that word from a partner, how many times did he have to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at it? What a revelation to discover that it hadn't been the wrong word at all; he just hadn't found the right person to say it yet.

"Tell daddy what you want, baby."

#wolfstar #i've never posted any part of a WIP before #i reserve the right to change every single word of this before publishing it for real #i miss writing text message convos #this snippet is very much representative of what christmas will be #remus is obsessed and sirius gets everything he wants all the time forever

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 💖

here's another tiny snippet of the christmas fic - i'm done with the sad part, now only fluff haha - just one and a half scenes and it's gonna be done just in time for christmas (also, I might have gotten a new idea for a christmas fic, where they decorate a tree - I wanted it here but it didn't happen and can't fit it in lol so that might also be in the works once this one is done haha - no promises tho, who knows lol)

prev snippet | moodboard

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“What’s- Christmas is tomorrow.” Buck points out with a small chuckle, but he tentatively takes the box. He glances at the tree in the corner, with a pile of gifts underneath, that they decorated together just a few days ago, after buying it together as well. It was the most domestic thing, and Eddie was dying to lean in and kiss Buck, or grab his hand, or just do anything, his feelings trying to leak out of him in any and all ways. Soon he’ll be able to shout it from the rooftops if he wants to. Hopefully.

“Yeah, but I wanted to give you one of your gifts a bit earlier.” Eddie scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Open it.” he adds excitedly when Buck’s just standing there, looking at the box. 

“Why am I the only one opening a gift early? What about you guys?” his frown deepens.

“Don’t worry about us, this is about you. Please?” he waves the question off, because it’ll all make sense in a minute.

“Just open it, Buck.” Christopher chimes in, excitement in his tone. Buck looks at him and his smile melts into fondness.

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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @exhuastedpigeon @buckaroosheart @king-buckley @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @hoodie-buck @spotsandsocks @jeeyuns @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @callmenewbie @hippolotamus @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

#tease tidbit tuesday #buddie christmas fic #fic snippet #buddie #buddie fic #buddie wip #wikiangela writes #my writing #my wips #i accidentally involved chris in the love confession and wanted to change that but tbh i kinda love this #wrote smth like 'he wanted to be in the room to make sure eddie doesn't chicken out' and i find this concept funnier than it probably is lo #also i guess it'd be cute to have both of them assure buck they're a family the way buck wants them to be haha #idk im excited for this and can't wait to share once its done