it made me cry twice but i love it (i will cry at the drop of a hat it does not take much at all)
ALSO GUYS I TRIED A NEW RENDERING METHOD AND IM ACTUALLY IN LOVE WITH IT ITS SM FUN AND LOOKS SO GOOD IM DEAD
they should have taken advantage of rocky's little mesh glove thingy imo HKFDSHHEHHEE
ALSO IM SORRY IDK HOW TO DRAW ROCKY I THINK I MADE HIM TOO SMALL BUT IDC
im so serious a tiggle scene would have fit so well honestly cuz its such a cute movie i dont think it would like be cringy at all it would make sense and just be so cute im sobbing
ALSO IM SEEING PPL SHIPPING GRACE AND SIMON FROM IRON LUNG AND I AM SO HERE FOR IT OMG THE SHIP NAME??? YALL ARE SO SMART hello i am calmmmm
If request are open can you do Lee!Tails and Ler!Maddie from sonic movie?
Of course! I gotta say, I think this might be the CUTEST thing I've ever drawn, thank you so much for the ask! ^^
This is my first time drawing a human, so sorry if I didn't do Maddie justice, I SWEAR I tried my best 😭
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I know this took a WHILE, and I'm very sorry about that, but I read every ask I get and I SWEAR I'm working on them, so everyone feel free to send more .u. it makes me really happy to know someone likes what I make ☺️ Anyway, love you all, byee 💖
A/N: this was a random burst of inspiration that i have no explanation for hahaha. i've always liked this movie and it's tword scene, so i felt that i should give these characters a little extra time together. this is canon-divergent, as it rewrites what happens between Victor and Emily's duet and the death bell tolling.
Summary: Victor and Emily still have some reconciling to do, but the tension between them dies down and lends itself to a budding friendship
Word count: 2,352
---
The bony hand clicked into place at the wrist as Victor took Emily in his hands.
"I like your enthusiasm."
It was true. He did. Even amidst the hellish world that he found himself in, surrounded by the dead and the rotting and the decayed, he found himself quite fond of Emily. She had a bubbly demeanor that was unparalleled to anything he had seen in the world above. Her passion and excitement made her feel more alive than any breathing person he had known before.
The irony was not lost on him, but he was beginning to wonder if it truly was irony at all. The living were weighed down with the parts they each had to play, their choreography in this meticulous dance they called life decided for them at their birth. You had expectations. Responsibilities. The very same responsibilities that landed Victor in this awkward situation in the first place. What became of those responsibilities after they died? What societal obligation was left to fulfill when keeping food on the table was no longer a priority? The souls here were free of any kind of rules previously imposed on them. They danced when they felt like it, they sung when they felt like it, they were free to be whoever they wanted. It was enviable, honestly.
He envied Emily's freedom.
And what had he done to this bright light of a human being? Broken her heart and lied to her.
She thankfully had the grace to accept his apology. But it still didn't sit right with him.
"I really am sorry" Victor said. "I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I was desperate, and scared, but none of those things are your fault. For whatever it's worth... I think you are a remarkable woman."
It was quiet for a moment, and Victor panicked for a brief moment wondering if he had soured the amicable moment they had just had.
"Why were you in the forest that night?" Emily spoke, barely above a whisper. Her tone was deadly serious and slightly sorrowed, but not angry. It was humble and honest; no pretenses whatsoever. All she wanted from him was to know why she had to hurt like this. If Victor were in her position, he would expect the same.
"I... I ran away. I had made a complete fool of myself in front of my bride and her family during our rehearsal. I thought perhaps some practice reciting my lines would do some good. Some good it did, huh?"
He chuckled, but fell silent as he noticed Emily's stoicism.
Emily turned to look at him. Her eyes were glassy with tears, and Victor felt a pit open itself in his stomach. "It really was an accident. Wasn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I truly wish I could take it all back. Maybe if I hadn't proposed to you, someone else might have come along and treated you with the love you deserve. With that being said, I do not regret knowing you, Emily. Not in the slightest."
Her lip quivered a little. "You really mean that?"
"Of course."
...
"You lied to me. And humiliated me. I'm still angry for that. And even knowing that you ended up here through an honest mistake... I'm not sure that I can forgive you."
He certainly couldn't blame her. "That's fair."
"But I do not regret knowing you either."
That took Victor by surprise. Despite having every reason to loathe him, she found it in her good heart not to. He honestly couldn't say it was uncharacteristic of her. His throat tightened as tears threatened to spill over down his cheeks, but he muscled them back down.
"Thank you."
It fell quiet again, but this time it was gentle and peaceful, a soft stillness that let each other's true feelings breathe openly and honestly without apology.
Although, Victor was grateful when Emily broke the silence once again.
"What happened that was so embarrassing you thought you had to run away?" she asked, with a huff of breath that Victor recognized as a laugh. Oh, how glad he was to hear that sound again from her.
"What didn't I do?" he laughed in kind. "Let's just say the whole affair ended with my mother-in-law's dress being set on fire."
He was delighted to hear a snort from beside him.
"Oh gods! That does sound terrible!" she laughed.
"It was" he blushed. It certainly had not been his finest moment, but considered himself lucky that Victoria still wanted to proceed with the marriage after that. "No doubt my parents were considering disowning me by that point."
Emily smiled at him. "Oh, I'm sure that's not true."
Oh how true it was. His parents were an ever-present reminder of how much of a pathetic failure he was at being a man. What was worse was that they were right.
Victor turned away, the thought of his parents seeing him like this bringing him feelings of shame.
"I meant it when I said you're lucky you never have to meet my mother. She's... never been the most... warm parent. And my father, well... he's not particularly affectionate either."
Out of his line of sight, Emily's smile lowered a little, but straightened itself as she lightened the mood. "I'll bet you were a very nice child."
The focus coming back to him startled him out of his misery. He blushed a little, and hoped that Emily wouldn't notice. He has never been the most comfortable being the center of attention.
I suppose that is being a nice child, he thought.
"Oh, I don't know" He rubbed his hand at the nape of his neck, soothing himself. "I don't suppose a gangly grasshopper makes for a good child." There admittedly wasn't much that he could say about his childhood that inspired fondness or joy. Certainly nothing he could share with Emily without making her pity him, and he didn't want that.
Emily, ever the optimist, doubled down on her point. "I'm serious! I bet you were a sweet little boy running around, playing with your dog, having fun. I certainly can't imagine you getting into any trouble."
That last remark had a playful edge to it, punctuated by a swift poke to Victor's ribs.
He jerked and gave a laugh, purely on accident. He hadn't realized that his reaction was that noticeable until Emily spoke.
"Oh, so you're ticklish" she teased.
If his cheeks were not blooming red before, they surely were now. His face now angled away from hers in an attempt to hide it. Bashful, as he had been told, was not a good color on him.
Victor chuckled nervously. "Is it so obvious?"
"Quite, and I'm glad. I don't think I've ever heard you properly laugh before."
"For both your benefit and mine."
"You are far too hard on yourself. And now I have the means to prove you wrong."
Wait, what did that-
Victor hadn't more than a second to process that statement before he felt a familiar bony hand scratch at his ribcage.
Once again, he was caught off guard, and couldn't keep himself from laughing, much to his dismay. When he was a boy, the grown-ups had said that he giggled like a little girl, which was quite untrue. Meaning that even the girls he grew up with didn't have a giggle as squeaky or as high as his. Victor thought that he would grow out of that little habit as he grew, but alas, he still had a laugh unfit for a man like him.
His posture shriveled immediately as his torso bent forward and his arms folded up like a raptor's.
Emily seemed to delight in his flailing. "Oh, very ticklish, apparently" she crowed. "Where do you get the nerve to put down your laugh like that? I've never heard such a sweet sound."
Now she had to be buttering him up on purpose. She was being polite. There was no way she actually meant that.
Victor muscled through his titters, still wriggling about. "This isn't nece- necessarYYY!" he squealed, as another bony hand plucked sharply at his other set of ribs.
"It is too necessary. I haven't seen you smile this wide in the whole that I have known you."
"Of ten hours!"
"Still!" she insisted.
Her fingers wandered up into the hollows of his underarms, causing him to jump in his seat and clamp his arms down with a yelp. Unfortunately for him, that meant those dastardly fingers were now trapped there.
It tickled incredibly, his mind beginning to lose itself with how fried it was from the tingly zaps.
This was so undignified. But it was hardly Victor's fault. He had been tickled once or twice as a child, but that had been with living, fleshy hands. These, that were torturing him now, were bony and thin, providing firmer and more precise pressure.
Unbothered, Emily simply watched him as she picked him apart. "Would you like me to move my hands now?"
What kind of a question was that?!
"Yes!" he answered.
"Oh, I'm afraid I can't. They seem to be stuck in there." And then she carried on, not an ounce of compassion for his plight whatsoever.
"Well, stop tickling then!" he squealed.
"Not until you lift your arms up" she demanded, the grin in her voice quite noticeable. She was having fun toying with him like this.
"I cahan't!"
"Well then, I suppose we should get comfortable then, shouldn't we? I'm good to stay here all night." And, just to drive that point home, she cooed. "Tickle, tickle, tickle! Tickle, tickle, tickle!"
Victor's face burned with the heat of what could have been a thousand suns, shame lighting up his face like the glow from a fire.
"You're embarrassing me!" he cried out.
Emily clicked her tongue sympathetically. "Well there's no need for that. There's no one to impress here. We're just having fun. At least I am. I like you like this; you look happier, lighter. I'd like to see you laugh more often, its a beautiful thing."
Victor began to wonder (with what little brain power he had left) if Emily really meant the things she was saying. It wasn't like her to speak so earnestly and not believe it.
But who could think a shrill laugh such as his was nice, much less beautiful?
No one in his life had ever spoken to him so kindly about his traits. No one he had known had ever looked upon him in such an uncomposed state and thought it a pretty thing. But then again, he wasn't in the living world, was he? Perhaps that was the problem.
Emily was right. There was no one down here in this parlor for Victor to impress. The rules of etiquette that existed in the world above were no longer relevant here. So what he was he so timid for?
Victor's laughter rang out in the air now with a new fervor, newly unburdened by his self-consciousness.
He supposed this was rather fun, wasn't it?
But still was the issue of releasing those tickly fingers from under his arms.
With as much willpower as he could muster, he snapped his elbows out towards his sides, giving Emily's hands the chance to escape.
True to her word, she moved them.
"Very good" she said, sounding impressed.
Victor's moment of reprieve ended abruptly as her hands now skittered and crawled up and down the rest of his torso, sending him into another fit of bubbly hysteria.
Perhaps he was a tad naïve to think that this little game had been over so simply. Though, if he were honest, he was not disappointed. Not even a little.
"That's better!" Emily chirped. "Now I can tickle you everywhere!"
"No!" Victor whimpered half-heartedly.
"Yes, yes, yes!" Emily mocked. "I need to find out where else you're ticklish. Unless you'd like to give me a hint."
Absolutely not.
"Absolutely not!" he shouted.
Emily merely shrugged. "Have it your way."
A hand lingered over Victor's midriff when it had felt him flinch, and honed in on the spot.
His head thunked pathetically onto the piano keys with a loud twang as he gasped breathlessly.
"Ticklish there?" Emily asked.
Victor could not reply, though his cackles probably served as a sufficient answer.
Emily ventured out towards his sides and kept going down as she reached his hip bones.
A spark shot up Victor's spine, and without warning, his legs kicked out, thrusting himself backwards and sending the both of them tumbling off of the bench.
Emily was laughing with him now, her merriment radiating in the room like a lantern next to him.
The two continued to lie there, still a little in shock, but laughing themselves silly.
As Victor caught his breath, he heard Emily giggle. "Well, that was unexpected."
As unexpected it had been for Emily, it had been even more so for poor Victor. The couple of times he had been tickled had never gone to his hips, and he had no idea they were that sensitive until now.
He couldn't help having a little fun with her. "Serves you right for attacking me like that."
"Oh, like you weren't enjoying yourself."
Victor found himself with nothing to say.
"I see that blush!" Emily crooned. "You know I'm right!" She pushed her pointer finger into his cheek, making him laugh again.
"Alright, alright..." he surrendered, batting the finger away.
He sighed, a warm and fuzzy feeling still filling his chest. It had been years since he had laughed that hard. He had forgotten how much he missed it.
In less than seventy-two hours, the Land of the Dead had already become more welcoming to him than his home had in twenty years.
He hoped that perhaps this could be the beginnings of a wonderful friendship for Emily and him. He had never had a friend before, and he would be honored for her to be that first.
The sudden ringing of a bell signaled a new arrival, and the parlor buzzed to life.
---
ive never come across a character more lee than victor. look at him!
ever since i read Fatal Error by @tickletails i could not fucking get it out of my head. it is SO GOOD!!!!! its so IN CHARACTER and so WELL WRITTEN and AUGHhdsjgf it makes me fuckign crazy ive reread it probably a hundred times. i decided to use that insane energy for something productive and i funneled it into this: a comic version of a scene from it :]
this has been like a week in the making. the fake out of "making a guy think youre gonna kill him -> tickling him instead" pipeline is like my favorite trope EVER!! i hope i lived up to your vision!!!!!!!
Three Times Kinger Made Ragatha Cry, and One Time He Made Her Laugh || The Amazing Digital Circus Tickle Fic ||
A/N: kinger is my dad and this fic is me projecting. don't worry, there's no spoilers for the new episode in this at all
Summary: …I mean you read the title
Word count: 3,176
---
Ragatha liked to believe that she had a pretty good poker face.
Sure, maybe one or two times that face would crack, but on the whole, she was pretty good at keeping her emotions close to her chest. Especially if that emotion was hurt.
With so many years under her belt of being her mother's daughter, she was practically a master at it. Not a single tear would slide under her mother's roof, or beratement and venomous words would follow.
It was a handy life skill even after she moved out. Whether it was uncomfortable conversations with her boss, strangers whistling at her in the supermarket, or a friend's callous words, she knew how to keep her cool.
Here in the Circus, it seems as though she needs that skill a lot.
She is reminded of this today, after another adventure. Their mission was to rob a bank and make it out both alive and with their loot. A loot that turned out to be nothing more than various colored blocks. She can still hear the great sigh of disappointment from everyone as they realized their efforts were fruitless. The crew share in their collective misery with moans and groans.
As they cross through the portal back into the Circus, one voice in particular is more cheerful than the rest.
"Wow! What a thrill!" Kinger exclaims. "Caine sure knows how to add a sense of danger to these games."
Ragatha smiles wearily, not sharing in his enthusiasm. "Yeah... he sure does."
"You were amazing out there, you know. Taking out all those security cameras, distracting the guards; you really nailed it today."
"Oh..." Ragatha blushes. "Thank you, Kinger."
"Of course! Especially after you went back to save Pomni from getting caught. I'm really proud of you."
Something inside of her cracks. Like a mirror with a nail driven through it.
Her chest tightens in an unfamiliar way. She doesn't like whatever this feeling is; it scares her. It catches her so off guard that she doesn't think to guard herself. Tears rise to the surface and stop just before the spill.
Before she can try to suck them back down, she sees Kinger's brows raise.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm good! Just tired" Ragatha says. It's not completely a lie. She isn't good. But she doesn't know what's wrong with her either. What about Kinger's compliment struck a nerve in her. She gives her best fake yawn. "I should really hit the hay. See you guys in the morning!"
Without another word, she hastes away, leaving Kinger blinking confusedly after her.
---
Ragatha didn't dwell on that moment for long. She really had been tired, and so the minute she rested her head down on her pillow, she was out like a light. The distress of that moment was briefly forgotten.
What is currently on her mind is this godforsaken adventure they're on now.
According to Caine, the "audience" (whatever that means) greatly enjoyed the Mildenhall Manor adventure, and is hungry for some more horror-themed ones.
That's how they ended up here in a haunted hospital looking for a way out.
Great. Just fantastic. No use asking what any of us wanted to do.
While she doesn't have a big problem with scares in general, there's something about hospitals that has always freaked her out. Something about the pale lighting and the diseased patients and the bleak atmosphere has always unsettled her.
And, as she now knows, they're even more disturbing in the dark.
Jax isn't particularly helping the case either. He's getting far too much enjoyment out of scaring the wits out of Pomni.
"God, Jax! Would you cut it out? This isn't funny anymore!" Pomni barks.
"How do you still jump every time? You know I'm gonna scare you and it still works every time!" Jax howls, clutching his belly.
Ragatha is about to chastise Jax for his immaturity when the clatter of a fallen wheelchair makes her jump out of her skin. It's one of the jumpscares Caine put in place for them no doubt.
Her muscles rattle as she tries to settle her nerves.
A hand rests on her shoulder, and she turns to see Kinger's kind eyes gazing down at her. He's more stable now, here in the darkness, and she can see it in his eyes that he is much calmer than normal.
"Don't worry. We're all in this together. Just stay close to me, and everything will be fine."
He pulls her into a side-hug as they continue walking. It's rather awkward for movement, and it causes Ragatha to have to sort-of limp with one half of her pressed against Kinger, but she isn't about to move for anything. She feels safer next to him. He's so steady and grounded, like nothing in this treacherous place can touch him. It's an admirable guise. With his hands pulling her into his robe, she suddenly feels like a little girl again, clutching to a grown-up to protect herself from the monsters.
Despite the terrors around her, Ragatha relaxes, letting her shoulders slump as her heartbeat lowers from thunder to a tremor.
She can't remember the last time she's ever felt this protected. She's not sure if she even felt this way as a child.
Her eyes begin to sting again.
But she isn't about to cry right now. Not if she can help it.
Fortunately, Kinger isn't looking at her. His eyes are trained dead-ahead on the pitch-black hallway in front of them, giving her a moment to blink the wetness away before anyone can see.
---
Why does this keep happening? Why does Kinger's company somehow always end with her being near to tears?
It's not like Kinger makes her sad. In fact, no one in the circus knows how to cheer her up quite like him. He's always there with a silly observation, or a scrambled sentence, or a bright attitude that can turn even the gloomiest of days into something worth smiling about.
So what is it then?
It's times like these when Ragatha misses her therapist.
"Uh, Ragatha?"
She's yanked out of her thoughts by Kinger, who is watching her like he's waiting for a response. He might have been talking to her about something when she zoned out. The pair were sitting inside of Kinger's pillow fort. With his memory now in pristine condition, he was telling her stories about his life before... well, all of this. Nice ones, too. The kind that make it hard to believe that he was now stuck in this hell that was the Circus.
"Uh- sorry. Kind of... spaced out there." She apologizes.
"No worries, happens to me all the time. I was just saying how my mother used to run around like mad during the holidays making sure everything was perfect." Kinger chuckles as he reminisces. "No matter what went wrong, Mom always knew how to fix it. She felt like the whole family depended on her to know what to do. No one was ever allowed to help her because she had to bear it all by herself. I always wished she didn't feel that way, but it meant a lot knowing how much she cared about us being happy.
"She was a lot like you, actually." Kinger looks to her.
That makes Ragatha's heart skip a beat. Kinger thought she reminded him of his mother? What a generous thing to say! She feels her cheeks warm with delight.
"Really?"
"Oh sure! You've both got that good heart that worries about everyone around you, even if it drives you a little crazy." Kinger winks.
"I would have liked to meet her..." Ragatha says.
"What about you? What was your mother like?"
Just the thought of her sours Ragatha's mood. She wasn't exactly the kind of person who would bake apple pies and sing to her children and drive them to soccer practice. How do you even begin to describe a person like her mother?
Best thing she could think to do was finesse the details. "Oh, you know... she's just... one of those moms..."
"She must feel really lucky to have a daughter as kind as you."
Lucky. "Lucky" isn't quite the word Ragatha's mother would use. 'Burdened" is what she'd say.
"Ragatha? What's wrong? Is it something I said?"
She realizes too late that her cheeks are wet with tears. Frantically, she wipes them away.
Kinger is still looking concernedly at her, reaching a hand out. "Ragatha, I didn't mean to-"
"I'm fine! I'm fine, really. I just... gah I'm stupid, I'm gonna go get some air. I'll see you later, Kinger." She hurriedly crawls out of the pillow fort, and closes it behind her. She knows she's just made a mess of things, but there's not much she can do about it now. Kinger saw her cry; there's no way to make this any less awkward.
God, why is she such a baby? What good is having friends like these if she's just going to drive them all away by annoying them all the time? They didn't deserve to have to put up with her. A miserable little nobody.
Her vision blurs as she starts to cry harder, making it more difficult to race back to her room.
---
Maybe it's her mother. Every time she thinks about her mother, she gets verklempt.
But that isn't quite true. When she thought about her in the bar during that lightning round, she hadn't felt like crying. It's just when Kinger is around.
Kinger must remind her of her mother somehow.
But that doesn't sound right either. Kinger is nothing like her mother. He couldn't be any further from her mother. He was nurturing, kind, wise, gentle. He was everything she wished that she had in a parent growing up.
Oh.
Well, shit. That would explain it.
She's lying here in her bed in the dark, crying like a child, feeling positively stupid. She had just run out on Kinger as they were talking about their mothers. In her mind, she relives the moment of shame when she realized that she had started weeping in front of him.
Way to go, Ragatha. You've made your closest friend uncomfortable.
She buries her face into pillow when she hears a knock at the door.
"Ragatha?"
That's Kinger's voice.
Of course, it had to be him.
She didn't consider that he would follow her. Surely his memories would have been wiped clean upon entering the light.
His voice comes again. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I just want to talk, see if maybe there's something I can do."
She doesn't exactly want him to see her like this, but he sounds rather sad himself, and she can't send him on his way knowing that he's this worried about her.
Weakly, she calls. "Come in."
Her doorknob clicks, and she looks up to see Kinger's face.
Or rather, half of his face, as the top half is hidden underneath a bucket.
The ridiculous sight makes her laugh, even through her despair. He must have put it on in order to stay oriented in order to go see her.
Once he is within her dimly lit bedroom, he carefully tosses the bucket aside and comes to sit next to her on her bed. Her laughter seems to infect him, as he too chuckles as he lowers himself.
"I wanted to come see if you were okay," he says, eyebrows forming a peak on his forehead as his eyes soften with care.
Of course he did. Why'd he have to be so perfect?
Ragatha sniffles pathetically. "I- I'm fine-"
Kinger jerks his pointer finger toward her face. "Don't say that you're fine," he scolds gently, like a disgruntled kitten, "You're upset about something, and you're allowed to be. You can just be sad. I don't ever want you to feel like you have to hide this from me, okay?
"I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but I'm always here to listen if you need to."
She wants to say no. She wants to tell him not to worry and that she'll be a-okay tomorrow. She wants him to forget about her and go about with his life and not know how much of a mess she is.
But looking into those deep blue eyes, so full of love and care, like it's the easiest thing in the world, she crumbles.
Her lip starts to quiver as sobs build up in her chest, finally leaping out of her as Kinger pulls her into an embrace. His hands cushion her back and her scalp as she cries into his robe.
Now that the floodgates have opened, there's no sense in trying to hold back now. Everything in her broken heart comes gushing out like a fountain, sobs shaking her frame with the force of them.
A few minutes pass, with not a sound uttered between them except Ragatha's broken whimpers. Even a good cry has it's end, and before Ragatha knows it, her chest slowly stops heaving as her breathing returns to normal.
Kinger hasn't stopped rubbing up and down her back the whole time.
With her sobs dying down, the air is now silent again, and Ragatha feels the need to fill the space.
"I'm sorry about all this. I just-" she hiccups, "I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I guess I'm just... not used to people being so nice to me."
It sounds pathetic as soon as it leaves her mouth.
She tries again. "Oh god, I mean- My... My mother wasn't really the... affectionate type. She never said things to me that made me feel good about myself. So when you say all those sweet things about how you're proud of me-"
"-it reminds you of what you didn't have." Kinger finishes.
She's surprised by how quickly he understood.
"Yeah... But, but, I don't want you to stop or anything! It's just an old wound, just one of those things" Ragatha stuttered.
Kinger squeezed a little tighter. "I get it. That must be a very complicated feeling."
He continues. "But for the record, you of all people deserve to have a parent treat you like you are their whole world. Their reason for existing. You're a treasure, Ragatha, and I'm sorry your mother wasn't brave enough to tell you that."
Ragatha almost thinks she's about to start crying again, but her ducts are just about run dry. Her chest swells, filling her with a level of peace she has not known in a long time.
What can she even say to something like that?
She settles on, "Thank you"
"Always" he replies.
Ragatha laughs to herself. "Man, I feel like a mess."
Kinger hums. "Well, if my memory serves me, there's something that I think can make you smile."
Butterflies start to flutter inside her stomach. A grin starts to stretch over her face, but she bites her lip and forces it into a straight line.
"You see, that's not a smile," he says, a smirk of his own overtaking his face, "but I've got just the cure for that!"
The hand on Ragatha's back adjusts itself to meet her side and starts to wiggle its fingers.
Her smile comes back full force, but she's quick to hide it in Kinger's chest.
While that hand plucks at her side, his other hand flutters at her neck.
"You're not getting me to smile. It's not happening" Ragatha dared.
"Oh, I think I just heard a little giggle!" Kinger teases softly. "That sounds promising. Now, let's see if we can get that smile..."
She feels as the hand at her neck moves down to spider over her belly. Her knees hitch upwards to try and protect her sensitive torso, but of course it's all for naught. Both because his hand is in the way and because she knows in her heart she doesn't want to stop him.
Ragatha can't help but laugh a little louder. Thankfully, most of its volume is muffled within Kinger's furry coat. She can actually feel the sadness wash away and get replaced with warm, silly joy. Is this what having a parent is like for most people? Lucky bastards.
Unbeknownst to her, Kinger is looking down upon her like she's the shiniest gem to ever grace the Earth. He takes a moment to laugh at her. "You know, it might help if your face wasn't buried in my robe."
His tease ignites a fighting spirit inside Ragatha, and against all better judgement, begins to squeeze Kinger's sides.
His body jolts hard as he lets out a startled laugh. "Aha-ehehehe!"
Not a second later, Kinger's hands are on her shoulders pushing her out of his robe and away from his torso.
She giggles now with a sense of light dread as she can now look Kinger in the eye.
He shakes his head amusedly at her. "Oh, you devious little-!"
His hands squeeze up and down both of her sides, all the way up to her underarms and then back down again to her lower belly. They move in opposite directions so that both hands are never in the same place at once. The sensation is downright absurd.
Ragatha cackles. "Oh my gohohod!"
"There's that smile! I knew it was in there somewhere!" Kinger cheers. "Has anyone ever told you you have a beautiful smile?"
"Juhuhuhust you!"
"Well, that's because it's true" He replies matter-of-factly.
Ragatha is beside herself in laughter, having lost all previous inhibitions. It's what she loved about tickling in the first place.
Right on cue, the tickles stop. That isn't what has her scared; she explicitly had told him to stop. Even if she didn't really mean it, it doesn't surprise her that he would stop just to be sure.
No, what scares her is that she just called Kinger "dad". Out loud.
And he had heard her.
She dares a peek up at his face and sees his eyes are glistening.
"What did you call me?" He whispers, voice breaking.
Oh, god. What has she done?
"Did you just call me 'dad'?"
Ragatha tries to think of something to say. Some clever excuse that can make this whole mistake disappear.
She doesn't get the chance, because her face is pulled back into Kinger's robe as he hugs her tight. So tight it almost hurts.
She huffs out a breath. "Uh- Kinger-"
"Oh! Right! Right, sorry." He fumbles, releasing her.
Nothing can erase the complete and total embarrassment she's feeling right now. But nothing can erase the full-bodied joy either. The shining look of complete and utter adoration in Kinger's eyes is too wonderful a sight to ignore. She can't imagine being any more lucky.
Ragatha glances down at her lap.
"I don't suppose we can pretend that didn't happen, huh?" She smiles, not meaning a word of her request.
The last two episodes gave me so many emotions and some interesting informations that I couldn't do anything about it, right?! 😏
Fanart based on a fan fic I've read recently - The Rivalry Continues - by @thematchmaker22
I thought these guys needed some fluff and comfort after Vox's events and since no one is checking on them, then they will eventually checking on eachother! 📻🍎
Quick update: I know I was planning on completing the rest of Tktober but then something unexpected came up. The last two weeks of October left me super stressed over a financial situation caused by my sister. Thankfully, everything got fixed in time but as a result, I needed to take a short break from online from the overwhelming crisis.
I ended up drawing a very self indulgent quick piece over the week to take my mind off of the whole thing QwQ even tho I still haven’t seen hazbin (especially the new season so plz no spoilers) I saw this thumbnail and instantly thought of the tkl potential >w<
I still wanna finish my last remaining Tktober pieces that I had planned/queued up so I’ll be back to posting after this weekend :3 🫶🏻🩷
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