#he is VERY cute when he's hyperventilating and writhing and screaming!

[friendlylocalwhumper]

Iron, with a smothering kiss of cold earth, has been locked around his jaw and hugs the base of his skull. Furiously stormy eyes glare from above the solid muzzle, from under frizzy white hair.

When the metal rod nears his thigh, it’s the first time that that defiance and rage falter. Eyes full of hatred suddenly flit downward to lock onto the metal that glows white at the tip and red a few inches further down. The heat radiates off of it and caresses him in a sensation worse than creepy trailing fingertips. The branding iron is moved slowly enough that he sees his coarse hairs curl up and smolder before the burning even really starts.

The room is getting darker. Major’s eyes rise for a half second to blink rapidly at the lightbulb above him, which holds steady and bright even as his vision darkens at the edges. The branding iron makes contact and for a second it feels startlingly cold. Short quick hummingbird-wing-beat breaths huff out from his nose over the muzzle. He thought he would scream, like the last time he got burnt. But he hears a high-pitched dog-with-its-tail-stuck-under-a-tire sound, and then the world swallows him whole, and he feels numbness and unconsciousness flood in.

Whimper-whine-wail. Whimper-whine-wail. Whimper-whine-wail. As he wakes, Major’s nose and eyebrows crumple towards each other, and he groans. Someone’s being a pussy, really close to him, and it’s fucking annoying. Someone’s making stupid hurt sounds, and… wait. It’s the exact same every time. Teary eyes blink open, and he can make out a small black recording device through his grogginess. The play button is stuck down and his own cries spill out of it on a loop. Agony is kindled in his leg and he shudders, stiffly moving his aching body to roll onto his back and untangle his ankles. At his thigh, which he refuses to look at, there is what feels like a burn a foot long and just as wide. It can’t be that big, he’d have a fever or be screaming his head off, he knows. But it hurts that much, and every nerve within a fucking mile radius of the small burn is shrieking in protest.

The healer tries to reach down to fix it, just let magic spill over the burn and erase it. But the muscles in his shoulder twitch and the limb doesn’t budge. Head rolling until his cheek smushes against the floor, he sees that his arm is chained down to a metal grate. Strong thin black bars, and a void beneath. Smells like… like… Beneath the muzzle, he whines low, eyes widening. Just his left arm is chained down to a grill in the floor. They’re gonna, they’re gonna fucking-

A whoosh and a roar sends Major flinching to the right, but his arm won’t budge. The dark room bursts into bright orange with the light cast from the fire underneath the grate. For three heartbeats it feels comfortably warm, the air rippling with the heat.

For long enough to send his mind scattering and spiraling in shards, screams are caught by the muzzle. In the haze of wishing he had no body and wishing for ice and numbness and to pass out, he reaches with his other hand to try to tear the chains away, and shriek-sobs harder when that just gets him a second burnt hand.

Finally, finally after passing out with sweat trapped beneath the muzzle and tears and snot across his face, his body lies limp as his crispy arm is extricated from the chains and the grate. And when he wakes, he learns that he wasn’t burning for an eternity, but for two and a half minutes. That’s how long the recording echoes his maddening screams before it loops again.

#whump #ocs #mine #burning #burns tw #chains #major #his dialogue is so one note that i decided to muzzle him #he is VERY cute when he's hyperventilating and writhing and screaming! #muzzled #captivity #torture #losing consciousness

[fictionsofriverdale-blog]

Big brother // Jughead and Jellybean

“Hey! Could l please suggest a fic of jughead and jellybean doing cute sibling things eg. Piggybacks rides, tickle fights? Thankyou 😃”

A/N: I hope you like it! I did it as a series of one shots through their young lives. Also, I wrote this on my phone so I’m sorry for any editing issues. I will sort it out when I get to the library tomorrow! 🙂 as always, comments would be amazing! I hope you enjoy!

Jughead was four years old when his sister was born, and she was the most delicate thing he had ever seen. Her fingers and toes were so tiny. She looked like a doll. But she screamed really really loud whenever he moved away from her.

To keep her quiet, Jughead would sit on the couch with her tiny body in his arms. The TV was always on in the background, but Juggie was scared to look away from her in case she cried again.

Jughead was nine-years old when he taught Jellybean to ride a tricycle. He ran along next to her, making sure her hands stayed clutched to the handlebars. They did big loops in front of the trailer, kicking up dust behind them. Jellybean was shrieking and howling with laughter and Jughead was grinning from ear to ear.

He didn’t see the branch on the ground and tripped, tumbling to the ground. His knee was scraped and blood was dribbling down his shin. Jellybean ran unsteadily to his side and sat down beside him. She reached over and wiped the tear from beneath his left eye and placed a gently kiss just above his cut knee.

Jughead was ten years old when he walked Jellybean to school for the first time. Jellybean thought it was so cool to be going to school like her big brother. She had talked about it all summer. They arrived outside of her classroom and Jughead said “I’ll pick you up after school, okay?” and began to turn away. He felt his sister’s arms and legs wrap around his ankle, she was now sitting on his foot.

He looked down at her and realised she had tears on her cheeks. He pulled her away from his legs and crouched down beside her. “I thought we were going to school together Juggie” she mumbled. Jughead chuckled but stifled the noise when he saw Jellybeans look of annoyance. “We are at school together, just in different classes…. do you want to have lunch with me and Archie?” Jellybeans head nodded so fast that Jughead thought it would surely fall off!

Jughead was thirteen when Jellybean came home from school with a frown etched on her face. She sat down at the kitchen table, folded her arms, and laid her head on her elbow. Jughead rose from the couch and made his way to the kitchen table. He sat opposite her and stretched his long arms across the table, placing his hands on her unoccupied forearm. He stroked his thumbs across the exposed skin and waited for her to talk.

“Why don’t they like me Jug?” She mumbled into the crook of her elbow. Jughead’s heart just about shattered and he gave his sister’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“What do you mean?” he asked. She looked up at him as her eyes were red-rimmed. He moved around the table to sit next to her, placing his arm across her shoulders.

“I know you think it’s a stupid dance and everything but…. I’m the only girl in my class that hasn’t been asked to homecoming” she whispered, ashamed, once again leaning her head on her elbows.

Jughead rested his forehead on her back and sighed deeply. “I do think it’s a stupid dance, but that’s mainly because I can’t dance, and I’m jaded and have an angst aesthetic” he finished with a grin. She giggled beneath him. “But that doesn’t mean I think it’s stupid for you…”

Jughead lifted his head, happy that he had made his sister smile. He wanted her to smile again. Pulling his arm away from her shoulder he rested it on her ribs, bringing his other arm to her other side. Instantly he began tickling her. She began writhing beneath him, trying to escape. “Juggie stop!” She whined, gasping for breath. “Jug! Please!… please stop!” And he did. He didn’t want her to hyperventilate after all!

Jellybean was eleven years old when she walked in on her brother having a panic attack. He was only fifteen but he carried the work on his shoulders. He was curled in a ball on the floor with his back leaning on the side of his bed. His elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his forearms and hands pulling at his hair. His beanie was tucked between his knees, keeping it safe while his hands tugged at his hair. He His back was rising and falling quickly with short and shallow breaths.

Jellybean walked over to him and sank down in front of him and placed her hands in his, still tangled in his unruly hair. She steadied her own breath and then moved his hands in time with her breathing. Pulling his hands up on an in-breath and down on an exhale, in long sweeping motions. “Breathe Jug” she encouraged. “In…. out ….. in ….. out…..”

Eventually, his breathing slowed down, but his fingers were still trembling slightly. Untangling her fingers from his, she scooted her body so that she was next to him. Crossing her legs she pulled her brother down to curl up on her lap. Without a word she began stroking his forehead, pulling her fingers through his hair, stroking her hands over his eyelids, and repeating. Soon, his eyelids fluttered closed and he fell asleep in his sister’s lap, on the floor of his bedroom, clutching his beanie between his knees.

Jellybean was thirteen years old when she convinced Jughead to go on a hike. It was the middle of summer and Jellybean was going stir crazy in the trailer. After days of following him around asking what he was doing, where he was going, who he was going to see, he had snapped and agreed to go on a hike with his sister. Jellybean had been so happy that she had jumped up and down clapping her hands; a very un-Jones thing to do! Throwing his hand over his eyes, Jughead shook his head and chuckled at his sister’s antics.

She had packed a backpack with food, water, and a map, just in case. They had been walking for nearly an hour, and despite complaining the whole time, Jughead was enjoying himself, mainly because his sister was smiling and getting excited by every little insect and flower that she saw. An hour later, Jughead was just hoping that this hike would tire his sister out so much that she would leave him alone this evening.

Suddenly he heard a shriek from up ahead and snapped his head up to look for his Jellybean. She had crumpled to the floor and was clutching her ankle. Despite carrying the heaving rucksack, he sprinted awkwardly up the path toward her and crouched down by her leg. “I heard a crack…” she whispered as her voice broke with tears.

“Hey, hey.. don’t worry, it’ll be okay… I’ve got you…” he murmured as he pushed the loose strands of hair off her forehead. Standing up, he swung the backpack around his body so that it hung over his stomach. Then he crouched to help his sister into a semi-standing position, pulling her arm over his shoulder. She hissed as she accidentally steadied herself on her bad ankle, and hopped a couple of times to regain her balance.

Once she was steady, Jughead crouched forward slightly and pulled her arms over his shoulders and she jumped; as much as she could on one good leg. “See, just like when we were kids!” Jug grunted as he shifted her weight around.

“Yeh but I was much smaller back then Juggie” she pointed out.

“So was I, not stop doubting my strength… we need to get off this damned hill!” Jughead retorted in mock-hurt.

#Riverdale #Riverdale fanfic #Riverdale fic #Riverdale fanfiction #Riverdale imagine #Jughead #Jughead jones #juggie #jellybean #jellybean jones #jellybean x Jughead #Jughead x jellybean #Jughead fluff #protective jughead #brother Jughead

[ticklishtoddler]

Tell Me 5 Things...

A/N: wow why am I being so productive with fics goodness. It’s a blessing. ANYWHO. hope you like it~ <3

Word Count: 1301

Pairing: Steve x Tony 

He hadn’t been the same really, not ever since that night. What night? Well that night of course! The Void..dark and cold. He thought he was going to die honestly, but he knew the risks of his actions and was willing to die. But he didn’t. That, that is what haunts him. Dying didn’t seem scary no, living with what he had seen and felt when he thought he was going to die? That’s what’s scary. It had given him great anxiety, and he was on edge for weeks afterward. 

Sure, sure, you’d be a little panicky if you almost died. But not Tony, he was having nightmares, panic attacks that felt like heart attacks sometimes. He felt like the fear from even thinking about that night could kill him.

“Jarvis? Jarvis, check vitals.” Tony panted out, clutching his chest, what was happening?

“Yes, sir. Vitals seem stable, sir.”

“Is it a heart attack? Am I old?” He groaned out, his breathing labored.

“No, sir, I believe what you are having is a panic attack. A quick scan of your brain shows extreme levels of fear. It’s possible, since this has been occurring 4 months after the Void, you could have PTSD, sir.” Jarvis said.

“No, no. That’s not possible. I know what PTSD looks like, I don’t have PTSD.” He denied.

“Sir, plea-.”

“Call Steve, he’ll know what to do. Now!”  Tony barked out, feeling like the panic was now consuming him, like his lungs were collapsing.

“Hello? Tony?” Steve answered.

“Steve.” Was all Tony was able to get out, he was desperate now, now that he knew someone other than a robot was listening to him, he felt like now he could get out all those emotions and someone would come and help him.

“Tony? Hello? Are you okay?” Steve asked, sensing something was off, and Tony didn’t make his usually ‘wow such an oldie figuring out how to use a phone finally’ joke like he always did.

Tony didn’t reply, he just started hyperventilating, sobbing now. He could hear the phone hang up, and he felt helpless. But within twenty minutes Steve was right beside him.

“Tony? Jarvis, what’s happening to Tony?” Steve said panicked, watching the older man shaking in and crying hysterically in front of him.

“It’s a panic attack.”

“Oh, Jesus, Tony.” He whispered, the poor man couldn’t catch a break could he?

“Tony, Tony. Can you look at me, babe?” Steve asked, but sighed because Tony didn’t look at him.

“Tony, tell me 5 things you see around you. Just five things, anything.” Steve said, rubbing his back slowly.

“Uh, uh, uh…My suit.”

“Four more.”

“You.”

“Three, you’re doing so good.”

“Uh, a table with my tools.”

“Yes, good. Two more.”

“The ground. So cold, lifeless..” He started to hyperventilate again.

“No, no. Tony, last thing, what is that last thing.”

“M-me.”

“Good, good job. Now, what are five things you can smell?”

“Ste-.”

“Smells, Tony.” Steve said affirmatively, but gently.

“For starters, you.” He chuckled softly, making Steve roll his eyes.

“Uh, bread. Bread? There’s no bread, oh God am I stroking out too?”

“Tony, babe, three more.”

“Oil. From…the, the suits.”

“Um…your body spray?”

Tony seemed to be visibly calming down, which made Steve relax a bit. Soon, they finished with the smells, and then moved onto 5 things he could feel, which of course was how they always calmed Tony down originally when he was stressed or crying.

“Tones, 5 things you can feel, are you okay with that?” Steve asked, knowing sometimes this isn’t always what Tony wanted to be calmed down.

“Yes.” And it began.

“Tell me 5 things you can feel.” Steve said, gently tickling the man’s ribs, causing him to fall onto his back giggling, Steve’s fingers only following.

“Tihihihickles.” He said, not even attempting to move Steve’s hands, as if he even could.

It wasn’t new to Steve that Tony loved being tickled, it was a common thing between him and Tony. If fact, Tony is actually very upfront about it, and asks nearly every time him and Steve are alone. Of course, Steve, happily tickles the snot out of his boyfriend because it makes him happy. That, and he realizes how much it means to Tony. One time Tony didn’t get tickled for two weeks, and in that time period he cried almost every night due to nightmares and flashbacks. It literally calms him. It’s his coping mechanism.

“4 more.” He began to spider up to Tony’s underarms, and Tony put his arms up himself, making Steve smile.

“Spihihihider tihihickles?”

“Yes, good job babe. 3 more.” As the number gets lower, the tickles get a little more pressure, so he went to his neck, scratching and wiggling his fingers on the skin there.

“SHIHIHIT!” Tony screamed, but looked up, trying to not block Steve’s fingers from tickling him.

“What’s this babe? Tell me, come on.” Steve encouraged.

“I DOHOHOHON’T KNOHOHOHOW.” He laughed, his smile bright, honestly he felt like he was so happy, as if the fear washed away. God, he loved tickling so much.

“Hm..maybe we should try a different spot. I’ll give you a pass to only say 2 more, and then we’ll continue if you want.” Steve informed him, switching now to tweak his ribs, but then decided to try something, Steve had been growing out his stubble, and cause he’s lazy to shave it. He put his face to his tummy, a very ticklish spot on Tony and began rubbing it all over.

“WHAHAHAT THEHEHE FUHUHUHUHCK!?” Tony screamed with laughter, unsure of what was tickling him, and a quick glance down revealed it was Steve’s stubble.

“STUHUHUHBBLE???” He said, hoping that that was what he was tickling him with.

“Right again Tones! Now…the last one. Oh boy, hmm this may be difficult for you to figure out.” He teased, making Tony blush.

Swiftly, he lifted Tony’s shirt up, and exposed his tummy. And there it was, Tony’s cute little outie belly button that Steve loved so. It was super ticklish, and Tony didn’t know whether to love that, or hate that. Back to the situation, the final feeling. What could that be? Steve bent down, and placed his lips on Tony’s belly button, and Tony knew, he knew what was coming now, and he nearly squealed right then and there.

Steve took a deep breath in, and blew.

Tony shrieked.

He arched his back off the floor, writhing and squirming harder than he has before, tears of mirth streaming down his face. Steve blew another, and another, and another. All getting the exact same reaction, until on the 7th one, Tony went into silent laughter and was weak from all the raspberries and no longer had the strength to squirm. He began to tap the floor, and Steve saw that, and quickly stopped his tickles, looking down at the man, who was panting, a happy smile on his face.

“What was that Tones?” Steve smirked, ruffling his boyfriend’s hair.

“Rahahaspberries, sooooo many raspberries.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Do you feel better now? Or do you not want to talk about?” Steve asked, rubbing Tony’s back.

“I..I don’t want to talk about it.” Tony stuttered, suddenly seeming sad again, making Steve bite his bottom lip.

“Do you want me to tickle the crap out of you until you have to use the safeword? Would that make you feel better?”

“NOHOH! NO NO NO!” He giggled, covering himself up, already overly sensitive from the tickle attack.

Steve smirked, wiggling his fingers and approaching his boyfriend. See, in the language of Tony, no means yes when it comes to tickles. And well, that and Steve still felt like Tony could use some cheering up, and Tony never turned down an opportunity to be tickled.

#stony #stony tickle fic #tickle fic #tw: panic attack #tw: ptsd #ticklish!tony