What about giggle-farming mermaids. Mermaids that make this wonderful enclosure right on the surface with enough space for a dozen or so captives, always full of soft beds of seaweed and kelp to lounge about on, warm rocks where the sunlight can reach and tunnels leading down, down into the water where no human could go but merfolk can easily swim up to snatch nearby prey. Mermaids that long for the mirth and joy of human laughter and realized they could coax it out so easily with just a few tickles.
Mermaids that pull you out into the open water and let you go, just to watch you try and swim back to shore, swimming lazily underneath you to tickle your belly and underarms. Mermaids that wrap their tail around your legs and tickle you to pieces while you hold onto them to stay afloat. Mermaids that are obsessed with legs because they do not have them, spending hours playing with your knees, your feet, your thighs. Mermaids that haul themselves out on to the rocks next to you and make you writhe like a fish out of water while they grin at your shrieks.
Ocupoid mermaids that spread you out with their many arms, exploring and attacking your sweet spots with ruthless curiosity. Shark mermaids that make a game out of hunting you through the rocks until they strike. Dolphin merfolk that make a game out of seeing who can make you squeal the loudest, passing you around the school until you’re too worn out to wriggle anymore. Angelfish mermaids who cradle you in their arms and softly tickle you to sleep when you’re tired, sleepy giggles filling the bubbles of air with genuine happiness.
Forgive the long wait, travelers. Let me introduce you to two of my OCs, who for now I will address as the Keeper and the Grey One. Their story is based on Irish folklore, specifically around selkies, which is one of my favorites to interpret as playful tickle monsters.
The Keeper is an Irishman that has recently inherited his late grandfather's cabin on a secluded lake front. While renovating the property, he befriends a selkie, the Grey One.
The two eventually discover they share a playful interest as well as feelings for one another.
Allow me to share with you a snippet from their interactions. Please let me know if you'd like to hear more about them!
I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💚.
Summary: The keeper meets the grey one for a picnic, but not before a playful greeting.
Word Count: 661
The keeper approached the dock as dusk settled over the lake with a dull orange hue lingering on the horizon.
Ever since inheriting his grandfather’s property on this particular part of the Irish coast, the keeper visits the dock with picnic basket at the end of his work day.
One late summer evening, the keeper stood waiting on the edge of the dock. After a while, he slipped off his sandals, sat down and dipped his feet into the water. He shuddered at the cool temperature but enjoyed the water’s comfort and the slight warm breeze.
It wasn’t long before the keeper felt something brush against the bottoms of his feet. He gasped and lifted them immediately out of the water with a splash, only to see a familiar shape beneath the surface once it settled. He chuckled with relief.
A grey human-like face with round-marble eyes and whiskers looked up at him. It appeared to smile, wrapped in a cloud of silver hair as it floated beneath the water’s surface. A grey hand with long fingers and claws beckoned the keeper to return his feet to the water.
The keeper smiled warily but slowly lowered his legs back into the lake, ready to begin the playful ritual his friend liked to perform before joining him on the dock.
The grey one’s face faded deeper into the murky depths, while its clawed hands remained visible as they reached up to trace and poke the entirety of the keeper’s feet with practiced gentleness.
The keeper quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, whimpering, as he shuddered from the grey one’s ticklish touch. He immediately curled his toes when he felt claws trace from his heels to his arches, where they lingered. He trembled with suppressed laughter, struggling to keep his feet in the water. He always saw it as a personal challenge to try and endure the grey one’s exploration, despite always knowing how it would end.
Eventually the keeper’s efforts shattered when the claws began to scratch lightly under his toes. Following a loud cackle, he pulled his legs out of the water.
When the keeper looked over the dock again, the grey one’s face was visible under water’s surface, scrunched in an obvious pout.
The keeper offered a sheepish smile and an apology, before he lowered his feet back in the water. He knew he was in for it now.
The claws returned in earnest, skittering up and down both of his feet. Unable to help himself, the keeper fell back onto the dock, hugging himself and laughing hysterically.
It was just like the first time he met the grey one, at the beginning of the summer when he chose to rest at the dock, only to be greeted by a curious “tickle monster”. Ever since then, the keeper would return to the dock and dip his feet in the water as a signal that he was ready for a visit.
The tickling claws gradually came to a stop and left his feet, leaving the keeper to giggle and catch his breath on the dock. As always, he felt slightly disappointed that it was already over.
When the keeper finally opened his eyes, a pale man with silver hair was hovering over him with a concerned look. The keeper yelped when cold water dripped from the man’s hair onto his cheek. He sat up and rubbed it away before turning back to greet the grey one, now a man, with a spotted grey tunic around his waist.
The keeper dipped his head apologetically and the pale man sighed. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against the keeper’s and both men closed their eyes.
Once their picnic finished, the keeper took the grey one’s hand, guiding him up the dock towards the cottage. As the sun set finally set on the lake, both individuals whispered a silent prayer to their gods, wishing that they could continue meeting like this forever.
One concept I absolutely adore and think about often is entity/monster tickles
And not like monsters in the traditional sense(werewolves, vampires, more traditional eldritch horrors) but more so things from what you'd expect in analog horrors or similar medias
Big spooky humanoids with odd proportions and inhuman traits making a human squeal by going for their worst spot while being completely silent, literal beings of shadow hiding in a closet to nab and wreck an unsuspecting lee with gentle tickles and playful whispers, eldritch beings beyond comprehension being the most curious and sweet lers because they find a human's reaction to such gentle touches absolutely adorable
THAT sort of thing. THATS what makes me tweak out. And I crave MORE of it so badly istg
I wish there was more stuff like this that I could get my hands on because I swear I love this shit
I saw this ask about @eldelascosquillas-blog 's monster not having a mouth so I got a funny idea go give them some! I just used their picture from their profile but all the art besides the mouth is Eldela's 🖤
Hope this makes everyone giggle like it made me giggle!
~Soooooo yeah: I’m back to fandom bouncing. Today’s obsession is Venom, and Eddie DEFINITELY needs a good wrecking. I might possibly go back to being consistent, but who knows? This is a lot longer than I meant it to be, but womp. If these goobers interest you, I hope you Enjoy!~
Lee: Eddie Brock
Ler: Venom
Summary: Venom’s eating habits are hard to curve. When a particularly gruesome snack gets under Eddie’s skin, Venom decides to cheer up his favorite host. Thanks to a cheesy rom-com, he knows exactly how to do it.
Warnings: mentions of Venom chomping somebody, brief descriptions of blood, pretty much just movie-typical stuff. This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!
Venom’s appetite was insatiable: it was the one thing Eddie knew for certain. Even after a full “meal,” the symbiote would whine for tater tots and heads not even ten minutes later. He didn’t need that much food to survive, but it felt good when he ate.
Unfortunately for Venom, Eddie was rather strict about his diet.
There was to be no eating Eddie’s leftovers, people’s pets, random chickens, and NO eating people. That last one pissed Venom off to no end. So, like any reasonable toddler, Venom whined about it whenever possible.
“BUT EDDIEEEE! I’M SO HUNGRY! JUST A QUICK BITE?” Slinking out from Eddie’s shoulder, Venom nudged his host’s hand with his physical form. Of course, he wasn’t talking about chocolates or chicken.
“No, V. Cletus was an exception; the rule still stands.” Eddie didn’t even look away from his laptop screen, tapping away at the keys as he worked on his latest article. It was a pain in the ass to scrounge up the details, but he’d finally managed to get enough info for a story.
“BULLSHIT! HOW IS IT FAIR THAT ONE ASSHOLE IS OKAY, BUT NONE OF THE OTHERS COUNT?!” Venom bit Eddie’s wrist, making the man cuss and shake him off. How could a thousands-of-years-old symbiote act like such a child?
“I- you know that was different! Also, ow!” Pointing to his latest bite mark, Eddie scowled at the symbiote. As soon as he pointed it out, however, Venom healed it; it was like it never happened.
“I DON’T SEE ANYTHING.” Eddie flipped him off before going back to his laptop, hoping to ignore the whining. Venom wasn’t having it. “OH, I SEE. CLETUS WAS OKAY BECAUSE HE MESSED WITH ANNE. ONLY BAD GUYS WHO MAKE YOU PISSY ARE FOOD.”
Eddie slammed his laptop shut, glaring daggers at the symbiote. Venom took that as a positive sign, resting his head on his host’s wrist. It was a terrifying attempt at puppy-dog eyes, but it told Eddie the one thing he didn’t wanna hear: he wasn't gonna get anything done until V had some food.
“Fine, you shithead! We’ll go on patrol for ten minutes, grab some chicken and chocolate, and come back. No longer.”
-
About half an hour later, Eddie was wondering why he even tried. They’d grabbed some chocolate from Mrs. Chen, but Venom swore he’d heard something on the way back. So, there they were, perched on a rooftop as they waited for some sign of what the symbiote had picked up.
After a few minutes of silence, the back door to one of the sketchy-looking shops opened. A young boy, maybe eight or nine, was roughly pushed forward towards a black SUV. He looked scared, dirty, and alone.
A burning anger rose in Eddie’s chest when he realized what was happening.
Those evil bastards… He bonded even farther into Venom’s mindset, letting the feeling overtake him. V noticed immediately.
“THEM?”
“Them.”
-
After they’d dropped the boy off at the police station, Eddie made sure they went straight home. After a very long shower, he’d managed to convince Venom to quiet down long enough for him to work on the article.
Staring at the near-blank document, Eddie’s fingers tapped idly on the space bar. The case, the case, the case. A tech giant had been covering up some shady dealings in Vermont. Shady dealings…
Eddie’s mind wandered back to their patrol, specifically to the part where Venom had his meal. The fuckheads deserved it, no doubt, but…god, had it been bloody. Smashing, ripping, tearing, screaming, head-chomping…
Groaning, Eddie rubbed his temples and shut his laptop; he needed a break.
Trudging over to the fridge, Eddie grabbed out some whipped cream - that shit made everything better.
After squirting a decent helping into his mouth, he leaned against the cool metal of his fridge. Who needs to process their emotions when you’ve got Ready Whip and self-doubt?
While he usually enjoyed mocking Eddie’s little moods, Venom knew this one was decently serious. More importantly, his actions had upset Eddie. That needed to be fixed, whether they liked it or not.
Coming back out in his physical form, Venom nuzzled his head against Eddie’s shoulder. It wasn’t much, but he was trying. “EDDIE?”
“Hmm?” The man huffed, opening his eyes to stare down at his partner in sorta-crime. There was still a small bit of whipped cream in his stubble; Venom had to resist the strong urge to tease him about it.
“YOU LOOK…DEPRESSED.” That got a chuckle out of the man, but not much else. He was just overwhelmed, and he knew Venom could sense it.
“...WANNA WATCH SHITTY ROM-COMS?”
“...yeah.”
-
Eddie sighed as the rom-com played, barely paying attention to it. He’d never seen that one before, but he couldn’t get his mind off the violence from earlier; if it wasn’t the goons’ deaths, it was the treatment of the little boy. There was no guarantee the police would do their jobs correctly…
Venom, on the other hand, was totally into it. There was just something about seeing two humans stumble around and act like lovey-dovey fools for an hour that put him in a good mood.
When he looked over at Eddie, however, his joy lessened. The movie was supposed to be making Eddie happy, not just him.
“EDDIE, WHY ARE YOU IGNORING THESE JOKES? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE LAUGHING.” Coming out as a floating head once again, Venom nuzzled Eddie’s shoulder. He shrugged, brushing off his own emotions.
“I-I dunno, V. Don’t worry about it.” Yeah, right - like Venom was gonna listen to that. Taking advantage of their bond, Venom peeked at what Eddie was feeling. It sent a rare feeling coursing through the symbiote’s system: guilt.
“I…APOLOGIZE FOR UNSETTLING YOU. I GOT MESSY.” Eddie whipped his head down to look at Venom, his eyes going wide. Did he just…apologize for something? Without prompting? Holy shit…
“Uh…thanks, Venom. I appreciate it.” Knowing it would make the little menace feel better, Eddie scratched Venom’s head.
A low, pleased grumble left the creature as he enjoyed the touch. While he did appreciate the affection, he was supposed to be making Eddie feel better.
Suddenly, Eddie tensed, freezing his fingers in place. Venom looked up to see what was wrong, but his host’s eyes were trained on the screen.
The woman on screen had grabbed the man’s phone and was holding it above her head; she was taller than him, so he couldn’t reach it. So, the man reached out and…started touching her sides? The motions made no sense to Venom, but as the woman started to laugh, he felt Eddie heat up.
Venom immediately assumed it was arousal, but Eddie didn’t seem to be desiring anything. He seemed more…giddy. Maybe longing for something? The symbiote was thoroughly confused.
“EDDIE? WHY IS THAT WOMAN LAUGHING? DO YOU LIKE IT?” Eddie’s cheeks burned, his eyes darting away from both the screen and Venom. His answer was muffled and flustered.
“She’s getting…it’s a human response to touch. Involuntary shit, and…” His voice trailed off, almost as if he was unable to finish his sentence.
Venom’s grin, if possible, widened. That was the same thing Eddie had done when Venom asked about why humans kissed; he was eager, embarrassed, and wanting something he couldn't ask for.
“SO IT’S A GOOD THING.” The fact that it was worded as a statement, not a question, kind of scared Eddie. Venom had that tone he used whenever he was about to be a shit; based on their conversation, it wasn’t hard to guess how.
“Venom, wait-” Before Eddie could think to push the symbiote away, he felt the familiar sensation of Venom spreading across his arms. But…only his arms. What was he doing?
“THE MAN DID IT LIKE THIS.” Suddenly, Eddie felt wiggling fingers on his sides; it took everything he had to suppress his giggles. When he looked down, he saw…his own hands tickling him. Venom was seriously making him tickle himself. Worst of all, it was working.
“V-Vehee! Get offa me!” Eddie twisted his torso around, trying to shake the feelings off. Venom was persistent, keeping at least five wiggling claws on him at all times.
“I CAN’T GET OFF OF YOU, EDDIE. I’D DIE, AND YOU’D BE A LOSER,” Venom teased, raking Eddie’s own fingers down his sides. Using his fluid, he added just a bit of a point to each fingertip, making it tickle even more.
“Thahat- that’s not whahat I meant!” A few little titters slipped out as the tickling increased. How the fuck was it working?! Gargalesis on yourself wasn’t supposed to be possible! Though, Venom technically was another being with his own consciousness…fuck.
Deciding to be an asshole, Venom tapped into Eddie’s thoughts. The man typically didn't enjoy it, but he figured it would be a special exception.
The very first thing Venom felt was extreme giddiness. It made the symbiote chuckle; Eddie really did love the touch.
Digging deeper, Venom go past the “oh shit oh fuck oh that tickles” and “I’m gonna fucking kill him” to find the more sensitive thoughts. “Please don’t go for my ribs, please don’t go for my ribs, PLEASE don’t go for my ribs!”
So, naturally, Venom went for his ribs.
“OhohOHOHO SHIIIIIIIHIHIT! SHIHIT!” Eddie squealed, arching his back and kicking his feet out. It wasn’t fair: being forced to tickle himself, and not being able to do a single thing to stop it. It was…well, it wasn’t awful.
Oh shit. Eddie knew he fucked up the second those words crossed his mind.
“WHAT’S THAT, EDDIE? IT ISN’T AWFUL?” Venom chuckled, leaning his floating head to whisper in Eddie’s ear. That was just adding insult to injury. “DOES THAT MEAN YOU DO LIKE THIS?”
Eddie scrunched his shoulders, trying desperately to evade the tickles. He knew it was pointless, but he couldn’t just sit there. Well, he could’ve, but he’d never have heard the end of it from Venom.
“N-NOHOHOHO! IHI DOHOHOHON’T!” Eddie lied through his teeth, or more accurately, his giant smile. It was so horribly unfair; then again, so was his life.
“HMM. LIAR.” Getting an idea, Venom shifted his pointy mouth to Eddie’s neck, nibbling ever-so-gently on the sensitive skin. If he couldn’t get Eddie to say it himself, maybe he could provide some gentle, torturous motivation.
“Wha- KYAAAH! FUHUHUHUCK! V-VEHEHENOM!” He squealed, tossing his head back and just laughing his heart out. Eddie knew there was no point in resisting; Venom would just come up with another way to kill him, and he wasn’t keen on figuring out how creative the symbiote could get.
“WHAT’S WRONG, EDDIE? DOES IT TICKLE? ” Venom cooed, continuing to nibble up and down his sensitive neck. At the same time, he forced Eddie’s hands to dig into his ribs, clawing and pinching at the bones. “YOU HUMANS ARE SO FRAGILE, SO SENSITIVE. I’D NEVER HAVE THIS PROBLEM.”
While the symbiote was lying, he knew Eddie was too lost in laughter to notice. It was nice to see his human laughing so freely, even if he did have to force it out of the moody fucker.
“VEHEHEE! IHIHI’M GOHOHONNA DIHIHIHIE!” Putting his whole self into it, Eddie thrashed and fought against Venom’s control. It didn’t work, of course, but he still tried.
“NO, YOU’RE NOT. EVEN IF YOU WERE, I’D HEAL YOU.” Venom was just playing dirty now. I mean, he was playing dirty the entire time, but that much teasing was just uncalled for. At least, that’s what Eddie thought.
Wanting to push his host’s limits, Venom sent a tendril out from Eddie’s shoulder and ran it down his back. Once it reached the bottom, he wiggled it against Eddie’s hip bones.
That officially did the man in.
“OHOHOHO MYHY- HAHAHAHAHA!” Eddie cut himself off with a fit of hysterical laughter, the sound dipping out for a moment. When he managed to breathe again, his laugh was loud, raw, and unrestrained. Venom could listen to it for ages.
“NOHOHO MOHAHAHAHAHORE! MEHEHERCY! MEHERCYHYHYHY!” Slamming one of his feet on the ground, Eddie tapped out in the only way he could.
Venom reluctantly stopped, pulling himself off of his host’s arms; he instead nuzzled his head into Eddie’s neck.
Panting and giggling, Eddie tried to regain his composure. His whole torso was buzzing from the touch, phantom tickles still keeping his nerves alight.
“J-Jehehesus fuhuhucking Chrihist, V…” The man ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly wiped from all the laughing and thrashing. While that had been incredibly intense, it helped ease his mind. He actually felt a lot better than he had before the silliness.
They sat in semi-silence for a minute, the only sound being Eddie’s slightly labored breathing as he pulled himself together. It was nice, almost lulling the exhausted man to sleep. That was until Venom decided to break the silence.
“EDDIE?”
“Whahat?”
“YOU’RE HAPPY NOW, YES?” Venom grunted, nudging Eddie’s chin; he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt his human. He loved hearing the man’s crazy laughter, but he knew he could go a bit too far sometimes.
Eddie thought about that. He was in their home, smiling and dazed, with a symbiote who cared for him had just finished tickling him to death just to cheer him up.
He was warm, safe, and finally not alone. He was part of something that, while flawed, was still the best thing that had ever happened to him; his answer was clear.
Eddie reached an arm up to scratch beneath Venom’s chin, sighing softly.
Gerard Keay had never really had any friends. Or partners, for that matter. Gertrude was the closest, he supposed, but even she, he didn’t trust. Which was probably good, she wouldn’t want him to trust her.
Especially after…
No. He couldn’t think about that. Michael was gone, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Nothing he could have done at the time either. Sacrificing Michael had saved the world, and that was a good thing.
It just… it would have been nice if he could have said goodbye.
Gerry let out a sigh as the door to his apartment building closed behind him. He hesitated halfway up the stairs, but… no. No, of course there was a door there.
He reached the first-floor corridor and an echoing laugh caught his ear.
A familiar echoing laugh.
But… no. No, that was impossible. He was just tired, needed some rest.
“Gerard Keay.”
No. Gerry begged inside his own mind. Please, don’t be him.
But it was, without a doubt. Stepping out of the nearest apartment door, over seven feet tall, blonde hair now flying loosely, flowing through the air as if underwater, long thin fingers and a wide smile. “Hello, Gerard.”
Gerry bit the inside of his lip. “Michael.” He muttered, knowing that it couldn’t really be him. Still, best to avoid pissing off the Spiral.
Its smile widened impossibly. “I’m glad to see you.” The voice sounded from all around. “I missed your face.”
“You’re not him.” It escaped before Gerry could stop it. “Stop lying.”
It cocked its head, smile fading ever so slightly, eyes like kaleidoscopes. “I should stop lying?”
Gerry clenched his fist. “I was trying to protect him from the Eye.” He muttered. It made no difference, he wasn’t talking to Michael, because he was gone. This thing was just playing with him.
Something in its eyes seemed to soften. Then it laughed again. “Well, you did.” It giggled. “Congratulations.”
“Fuck off.”
“It’s alright. I’ve learned to quite like being like this.”
Gerry growled and decided abruptly that he didn’t need to stand here and listen to this. He didn’t need to play the Spiral’s stupid game. He turned, and waked away down the corridor, refusing to look back.
“Gerry!” The voice sounded all the more human as it hurried after him, sending a hot bolt of anger through him.
“Shut up!” Gerry rounded on it. “It’s Gerard. You don’t get to call me that, you’re not Michael, you’re just the thing that- that ate him.” Crap, his throat was getting tight. “If I had the power, I’d burn you right now.”
Michael’s throat worked. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t tell me what I mean.” He turned back around. His apartment had to be here somewhere, surely. He’d walked for a little while, and his door wasn’t that far down the hallway.
The hallway.
The door.
Dread like ice slid up his spine. “Let me go.”
There was no reply.
Gerry span around, fully prepared to tear the Spiral limb from limb from limb. “Let me GO!”
He’d almost really messed up and grabbed the thing when he noticed the swirling, rainbow of colour pouring down its face and pooling on the floor. It almost looked like tears. “Please.” It rasped. “I- I’ve been trying to find you, I didn’t know how to control anything Gerry, I was- I was lost, I just wanted to see you again.”
Gerry stared in stony silence.
The Spiral wiped one giant hand over its face. “Gerard.” It corrected. “Sorry.”
He didn’t speak.
It sniffled. The sound didn’t echo. “H-how can I prove that I’m- I’m me?” The Spiral asked. “What could I say that would convince you?”
Gerry crossed his arms. “You could start by letting me go.”
It shuddered all over. Gerry wasn’t sure if it was a glitch or a sob. “If I do that, you’ll run.”
I just wanted to see you. A weak part of Gerry wanted to believe it. “I won’t.” He promised. “If you- unless you try to harm me, or someone else, I won’t run.”
Those huge, watery, kaleidoscope eyes got even wider. In a flash, a door had appeared beside him. He swallowed, knowing that this could very easily be another trick, and walked through it.
The next thing he knew, he was in his apartment. Crappy posters on the walls and smelly kitchen to prove it.
“Well?”
Gerry turned. The Spiral was still there. “It’s a start.” He muttered.
--
“I- look, I don’t just burn any book I come across, you know?”
The Spiral’s head tilted in an imitation of confusion.
“I burn evil books, you know? Cursed? Not- Nigella Lawson!”
It nodded. “Evil, I see.”
Gerry sighed, then yelped when another book thumped down onto his lap. “This- okay, Thatcher’s autobiography isn’t what I had in mind.”
“But?”
“I suppose I’ll make an exception.”
--
“Where the fuck are my cigarettes?”
Silence.
“You son of a bitch, Michael, I know you’re there, give me my fucking smokes!”
In a blink, he was there, smiling that huge smile, cigarettes in hand. “You called me Michael.”
Gerry was struck dumb for a moment, but it was right. He’d called it Michael. “Maybe I did.”
“Thank you.”
Gerry grumbled and snatched the cigarettes, crossing his arms. “S’just faster to say.” He muttered.
Michael smiled wider. “Of course.”
--
They weren’t cuddling. That wasn’t what this was. Gerry was sitting on his sofa by himself, and Michael had just… appeared, wrapped himself around him like an octopus, and Gerry wasn’t going to react because he knew that that was what Michael wanted him to do.
He’d really gained a taste for mischief since being taken by the Spiral. That or he’d just gotten bolder.
Regardless, Gerry was going to watch telly and not acknowledge the cuddly monster that was wrapping around him. Even if he could feel those eyes and that smile burning into him. “Michael…”
The limbs tightened, but not to the point of causing pain. “Yes?”
Gerry rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to watch the telly.”
“And you are more than welcome to do so.” The hair was wrapping around him now, and that was just a little bit weird. “Please, continue.”
“Since when are you so clingy?” Gerry asked with a smirk, poking him gently.
Michael’s hair continued to twine around him, wrapping up his shoulders, his torso, “Since I missed you.” He whispered.
Then there was an electric sensation shooting up Gerry’s spine and he yelped, jerking away. What the hell?! His eyes met Michael’s, which he was gratified to note seemed equally confused. So it wasn’t intentional. Michael’s hair had just touched a spot on his side where his shirt had ridden up and…
Ah.
Ah fuck.
Michael seemed to realise at the same moment that Gerry did. He grinned. “Well well well…” It cooed, but Gerry was already on his feet, retreating.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” Oh god he was smiling. He tried not to.
Michael rose, and Gerry wasn’t sure if he was taller or not. His fingers, always long and sharp looking, took on an entirely different threat now. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
“B-because I- shit, because I told you to!”
The laugh echoed inside his head. Michael was definitely taller, and his grin seemed to be too big for his face to contain it. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a better reason than that.”
“Don’t you dare!” He couldn’t take this, couldn’t stand still while Michael looked at him like that, couldn’t bear the Knowledge of how bad this was going to be when Michael caught him.
Not if.
When.
Gerry bolted through the door before he’d even had the chance to think it through, helpless to the massive grin on his face and the laughter bubbling up in his stomach already.
Fuck.
He hadn’t even known he was ticklish.
Then he looked around. Fuck.
He should have realised that there was no door there.
That laugh echoed through the corridors towards him, and Gerry pounded on the wall that he’d just come through. “No!” He squeaked, still grinning like a loon. This was mad, it was insane, he couldn’t-
“Gerard…”
Oh no.
Giving up entirely on the idea of reopening the door, Gerry took off down the corridor, away from that teasing voice. His boots stomped loudly, but he didn’t care, he just needed to get away, Michael couldn’t catch him, he couldn’t.
“Hello.”
He shrieked, stumbling forwards as hair wrapped around his ankles, trying to trip him. “No!” A laugh escaped when Gerry tried to pull himself free. “Don’t you dare!”
Michael giggled, his fingers wiggling teasingly. “Don’t I dare what?”
Gerry tripped, falling to the ground with a crash and trying to crawl away. “I-I’m not ticklish!”
A hand seized his wrists, lightning fast. “Is that so?” Gerry tried to squirm his arms free, but they were pulled up with very little effort. “Because I didn’t ask if you were.”
“Let me gohoho!” Crap he was already laughing. Squirming on the ground, laughing, and almost certainly blushing like crazy. He couldn’t help it, everything about this was so damn flustering.
Michael laughed again. Oh, this was delightful. Gerard Keay, bright red and giggling. Perfect. “What are you laughing for?” It teased, floating its free hand over Gerry’s abdomen without touching just yet. “I haven’t done anything.” Yet.
Gerry tried to bite back the laughter, but he couldn’t. Michael’s fingers were wiggling ever so slowly and the anticipation was killing him. It looked so devious and sneaky, and sure no one had ever tickled him before but he knew enough to squirm. “Don’t- don’t!”
“But,” Michael continued, “You’re not ticklish, of course, so it would hardly affect you even if I did. A real shame, after all the times you attacked me. Do you remember?”
Gerry squeezed his eyes closed to block out the sight of those fingers. It was worse. How was it worse?
A finger wiggled against his clothed stomach, earning a high shriek. “Remember?” Michael prompted.
“Y-Yes!” Gerry rushed out. Of course he did. It had been fun at the time, messing around with Gertrude’s cute assistant, making him laugh and having an excuse to laugh himself. Michael’s reactions were always so adorable, how he squirmed and jumped and squeaked at the smallest touch.
“A shame that you’re not so sensitive.” Michael’s voice purred impossibly close. “I have quite the taste for revenge, nowadays.”
Fuck. He couldn’t take this anymore. “Just- shit- just get on with it you sadistic fuck!”
Another teasing laugh. “Oh, well, since you’re so eager.”
“You know that’s not what I-ah! Shit! Shihihihit!” The fingers had started to worm their way around his leather coat, to glide across the fabric over his ribs in a way that felt more mischievous than anything he’d ever felt before.
The fingers cupped his ribcage, wriggling slowly along their length and ending in those devilish nails pricking at his skin, making that entire side feel warm and tingly and Gerry couldn’t hope to keep it all in, it just- it tickled!
He shrieked and giggled and tried to twist his vulnerable side away, but he knew Michael was far too strong for that. His mocking laughter felt like it tickled all on its own, flushing Gerry’s cheeks bright red. He wished he had any chance at all of hiding his huge grin and burning cheeks, but there was no hope of that either. “Nonono- Michael please!”
“You’re making an awful lot of noise for someone who isn’t ticklish.” Michael crooned. “You wouldn’t have lied to me, would you?”
Gerry hiccupped and bucked when the hand reached around his back, fingers growing so long that they could torment both sides at once, getting dangerously close to the hem of his shirt. “God, dohohon’t! Don’t do THAT!” A nail snuck under his shirt, scratching a light, electric line across his stomach and reducing Gerry to loud cackling.
Michael leaned in until he was right beside Gerry’s laughing face. “Gerard...” It whispered, getting a loud shriek when its breath very intentionally tickled against his neck. “I think you may have lied. I think you’re, in fact, quite ticklish. Perhaps even very ticklish. What do you have to say about that?”
It was difficult to tell whether Gerry was trying to reply or not. All that came out of his mouth was a garbled mix of sounds and laughter, completely unintelligible and utterly adorable.
Michael swirled the nail in a slow spiral around his stomach. “Fascinating.” It whispered, beaming down at him. “That is a compelling argument, but I’ll have to disagree. At the very least, this seems like a very ticklish stomach. I think Gerard Keay has a ticklish tummy.”
“NO!” Gerry shrieked, the nail’s tracing getting smaller and smaller in conjunction with his laughter getting more and more frantic.
Michael beamed. “No? Are you certain?” Gerry only cackled in response, so it continued, massaging his sides with its knuckles and swirling that sharp nail in even smaller circles, almost at his belly button. “This doesn’t tickle?”
Tears pricked at Gerry’s eyes, muscles straining to thrash, to move, to squirm, to do anything, but he couldn’t. He could only laugh and shake his head.
“I think it does.” Michael cooed, manipulating his breath to twist and tickle around Gerry’s neck as he spoke. “I think it will especially tickle just- in- here!” He poked a short line, then dipped the finger into his belly button, wiggling gently.
Before he had even realised what he was doing, Gerry was shrieking with wild laughter and bucking every which way to get away, roll over, curl up, do anything because holy crap it tickled, it tickled! “FFAHAHAHAHA OHNOnonono, noplease, please!”
Michael giggled. “Tickle tickle tickle.” It cooed. “That does tickle quite a lot, doesn’t it?”
The nail twisted, tracing circles around the inside of his navel and making Gerry scream. “FUHUHUCK!” He wailed. “Ohmygod NOHO- getitoutgetitoutgetitout PLEHEASE!!”
The nail retracted, as if sensing his desperation, and Gerry collapsed, panting, wheezing and giggling against the technicolour floor. “I-I fuhucking hate you.” He gasped, once he had a grip of his faculties.
Michael giggled delightedly. “It’s hardly my fault if you’re so sensitive.” It said, wiggling its fingers at Gerry and revelling in his answering squeak.
Gerry kicked out with his feet, trying to scoot backwards, away from that smile, those eyes, those fingers.
Those fingers were evil.
Michael laughed louder, flowing forwards without seeming to move its legs, still wiggling its fingers in that awful, teasing manner. “Where are you going?”
The laughter that Gerry had just started to get under control came back. “No- no you stay away from me!” He chuckled, trying and failing to get to his feet, the intensity of Michael’s eyes and smile enough to get him laughing even without the continued threat that those fingers held. “Michael.”
“Gerard.”
He scrambled backwards, laughing more and holding out his hands defensively. “Don’t you- hey, hey, get your hands off me!”
To his surprise, Michael stopped. To his dismay, its grin only grew. “Are you certain that’s what you want?”
Gerry’s eyes widened, watching Michael’s long mane of hair animate behind him, flowing into a hundred tiny tentacles that wiggled and reached and waved at him. “Oh no, nonono wait, wahahahait!” He tried to crawl away but found himself remaining still no matter how hard he tried.
Michael giggled, the sound alone making Gerry laugh too. “Don’t take my hands off you? My my, Gerard, and you say I’m confusing.”
“You fucking- you asshole, I hate you!”
It tutted. “Oh, surely you don’t mean that.”
A tendril of hair wound around Gerry’s leg, making him yelp and tug and try to run, but again, no matter how fast he tried to go, he remained exactly where he was. “No- no, okahahay, okay okay okay please, Michael, plehehase!”
“I’m doing exactly as you asked, Gerard.” Its face was by his ear again, the breath weaving impossibly around his neck and ears.
Gerry didn’t know how words could feel like that, but he was in too deep to question it now. He giggled breathlessly and batted at his ears, knowing it would do nothing.
Michael’s grin was unfairly infectious. “Are you sure you’re not ticklish?”
“Oh fffuhuck you.”
“Rude.” Michael tittered. “I’ll search for potentially tender spots in other places then.”
The threat had Gerry curling up in as tight a ball as he could manage, but that tendril of hair remained wrapped around his leg, winding further and further around him even as he did everything he could to escape it. “Naha- no!”
“Oh yes.” Michael crooned. “You’re so much fun to play with Gerard, I might never let you go. This is far too entertaining.”
“G-gonna murder you!”
Michael laughed. “Gonna tickle you!” It sang back, another strand of hair teasing at his other leg, wiggling over the laces of his boots.
Oh fuck. That tickled. That tickled more than it had any right to, over the shoes, what the hell?!
Not for the first time, Gerry was glad that he’d been too lazy to take his boots off when he had gotten home. Hopefully Michael would be too bored with the idea of undoing all the laces.
He felt something dancing against his calf, soft and light and ticklish, making Gerry break into giggles despite it not being a particularly ticklish spot. Then it wormed its way under his sock and oh no. “Nononoho Michael!” He squeaked, the silky hair slithering down his ankle, whispers of touch along the way making him twitch.
“Gerard.” It hummed, the hair featherlight and squeezing effortlessly past his tight boots. “You wouldn’t be ticklish here now, would you?”
Gerry said nothing, opting instead to clamp his hands over his face and kick, hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought it would be.
The end of the tendril reached his heel, fluttering against it playfully, and earning a loud squeal. It’s worse!
The hair felt like soft, downy feathers, teasing unbearably slowly up Gerry’s foot and making him giggle at an embarrassingly high pitch, squirming from side to side and swinging his arms haphazardly at the source of his madness.
Michael giggled along with him. “Not ticklish here either?” The other foot started to get the other treatment, making him wail into his hands. “Not even a tiny bit?”
Gerry shrieked. This was madness, he wasn’t even being held down! He couldn’t grab at the gentle little brushing over his feet, couldn’t get past his own damn boots, couldn’t kick away, couldn’t run, couldn’t do anything other than roll around and laugh from the awful fluttering sensation now dancing across both of his feet. “EEEEhehahahaha- hic- Michael! Michael it tihihickles, it tickles please!”
“Ah, so you are ticklish?” Gerry didn’t need to see its face to feel that massive smile. “When you claimed you weren’t?”
Gerry wrapped his arms around himself as he rolled from side to side, his knees pulled uselessly up to his chest. “I-ehehe- I was wrong, I was wrohohong!”
The fluttering stopped, though the tendrils didn’t retreat, leaving Gerry still giggling and trying to keep his feet from twitching and tickling themselves.
Michael cocked its head, the mischievous smile a good deal softer than it had been before. “You didn’t know.”
God, what Gerry wouldn’t give to stop fucking smiling. The giddy feeling in his stomach was kind of nice though. “No, I- not like I’ve been close to many people, right?”
That huge Cheshire grin was all but pressed into his face. “Are we close?”
Feeling bold for some reason, Gerry shoved a hand in Michael’s face, pushing him back. “About as close as you can get right now! Fuck- wait nahahaha no!” The feathery hair resumed its dance with a fervour, sending Gerry back into shivering giggles.
“New discoveries must be archived, of course.”
Gerry let out a sound that he would never admit was a whine, giving up on protestations entirely and squirming around, if only to vent all the energy those maddeningly light strands seemed to fill him with every time they brushed against his arches, dividing into a million tiny fibres as they did.
Michael smiled. Oh, this was a treat. Gerry’s hair was a mess, his face red, and his coat flapping as he thrashed and tried to roll away even though they both knew that wasn’t going to happen. He was even squirming enough that Michael’s hair had started to wind around him more and more.
Hmmmm…
“I wonder, what about your toes, hmm?” Michael asked in a teasing lilt. “Ticklish toes?”
Gerry’s toes immediately scrunched up at the threat. “Naha- NO!”
“But how can you be certain, Gerard? Surely you want to know.”
The worst part was that Michael was completely right.
No, the worst part was when it shifted up that last short distance to poke playfully about his toes, tiny silky strands sliding between them with no resistance, making Gerry howl. “FUHUHUCK! Ohno- nonono it tihickles, Michahahael it tickles!”
Michael giggled. “Oh, it does?” It teased, “It tickles on your toes?”
Fuck. He could hardly say anything to that, even if he wanted to. Gerry snorted and cackled into the softness around him, writhing completely helplessly as that static smoothness wove through and around his scrunched-up toes.
Wait, what softness was around him? Gerry’s eyes snapped open, and he realised with giddy dread that all his squirming had tangled him up quite thoroughly in Michael’s hair. It was wrapped around his legs, his stomach, ribs, there was even a strand loosely around his neck.
The hair which was currently mercilessly tickling his feet and driving him out of his mind. Oh no.
Michael must have seen that he’d noticed. It giggled. “Oh dear, you’ve gotten yourself awfully tied up there.” The hair assaulting his feet lessened enough that Gerry could catch his breath, still giggling and grinning like crazy.
“Don’t yohohou fucking- Michael no!”
It laughed. “I haven’t done a thing.” The hair twitched, a strand sliding under his shirt to ghost up his side. Another wound around his ear, and yet another wriggled into the sleeve of his shirt. Gerry bit his lip and tried to keep it all in. Michael leaned closer until it could have caught his ear in its teeth. “You did this to yourself.” It whispered.
The words, again, danced across his neck, his ear, his face, making Gerry squeal and jerk, then laugh loudly because no, all the strands were wiggling against him now, feathery and mischievous and so so ticklish! One feeler dragged back and forth over his side, teasing his stomach briefly before returning, while yet another darted in and out of his armpit, even as he tried desperately to lower his arm, cackling wildly. The hair was everywhere, wiggling and stroking softly, so softly that Gerry was sure it would drive him mad.
Michael giggled along with him. “My, I’m hardly doing a thing.” It teased. It was true; the odd twitch of hair here and there was more than enough to keep Gerry squirming around, tickling himself to death. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament. You must really love this.”
Fuck.
“NO!” He shrieked, on impulse, but the idea had already taken root. He… didn’t hate this, did he? It tingled and tickled like crazy, he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, and that was nice. More than nice. It was addictive. Intoxicating.
Michael’s voice felt impossibly close. So close as to be inside his mind already. “Oh dear, I’m certain that lies are my domain.” It whispered. “And that one tasted delightful. Look at you, so soft and helpless. If you only held still, it would all stop.”
Hold still? There was no way, every part of him felt like it was being gently electrocuted, he couldn’t hold still.
Even if he wanted to.
“Tell me, does this tickle more, or less?” The hair… shifted somehow, though Gerry couldn’t explain it. All he knew was that what had felt like feathers now felt like soft, bristly brushes scrubbing over his hypersensitive nerves.
Gerry wailed, throwing himself around despite knowing that it was only going to make this worse. Or… better? Shit. He couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything other than roll around and cackle until Michael felt like granting him mercy.
Mercy that Gerry wasn’t sure that he wanted, deep down.
A strand of hair slipped into his belly button and was enough to have him snorting frantically when he started to feel short of breath. Surely Michael would have to stop soon? That or Gerry would pass out, which would be embarrassing to be sure, but that would be something-
In a strange surge, Gerry found that he suddenly didn’t feel short of breath anymore. Between kicking and the bristly tickles all over, he barely had the brainpower to wonder what the hell was going on.
Michael’s grin was inches from his. “I meant it.” It crooned. “I could keep you here forever. Would you like that? Never needing to stop for breath or sleep, just being tickled and tickled and tickled forever.”
Yes. A traitorous little voice inside whispered. Yes.
“You could spend a lifetime like this.” It continued, drinking in the sweetness of Gerry’s laughter and screams. “Who knows how many years of tickles, and I could return you just at the moment you left. If I returned you at all.”
“NAHA- NO!”
“No?” Michael chuckled. “But Gerard, you haven’t told me to stop.”
What? No, that couldn’t be right, he’d been begging, begging Michael to…
“It’s true,” The hair around his neck and ears changed back to fluttering feathers, making Gerry wheeze. “I haven’t done anything you told me not to do. And I’ve done what you told me to. You just love this so much, you’d never want it to stop, would you?”
Gerry wheezed, wishing he could hide his face, shaking his head.
“Oh yes.” And then the worst thing happened, Michael stopped. It grinned down at the still giggling Gerry. “You just have to tell me what you want.” It cooed. “And I’ll do it.”
Fuck. A choice between… what? Dignity and delirium? Laughter and freedom? If, that is, he could get any words out past the giggles that wouldn’t stop. “You-pfahahaha f-fuck you!”
“Ooh, tempting.” Michael crooned. “Perhaps another time.”
Those fingers were floating up and down his trapped torso, not touching at all but still driving Gerry to laughter. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t take this! “Let me GOHOHO!”
Michael tutted. “If you insist.”
The hair unfurled from him in the least ticklish manner possible, and Gerry had exactly enough time to realise that he was disappointed before he was dropped through yet another door and lost all coherence.
There was no build up, no Michael, no anything. He was lost amid a tempest of swirling colour and sound and all of it tickled, every tiny thing. Gerry cackled hysterically and rolled in the air, or water, or feathers, whatever it was that had him in its ticklish grip, but even that wasn’t enough, couldn’t vent the energy pulsing through him. Every sense was being teased; how sound could tickle he didn’t know, nor smell, nor taste, but Gerry wasn’t in a position to argue the terms of his insanity, only to bear it as it swirled all around and inside and over and tickled, it tickled, it tickled!
And even as he writhed and sobbed with laughter, lost amid the madness of the Distortion and the teasing smile he could still feel from Michael, Gerry couldn’t deny that he loved every torturous bit of it.
He barely noticed when he finally broke and begged for it to stop, his mind exploding with fireworks of sensation as the ground became the normal craziness of Michael’s regular corridors. The monster crouched beside him, grinning that huge smile.
Gerry twitched, streams of giggles still bursting from his lips. “E-ehehevil.” He said, twitching and hugging himself. “Evil monster.”
Michael laughed and ruffled his hair with those long fingers. “You flatter me.”
“I wouldn’t call that letting me go.”
The grin took on a deviousness. “Oh Gerard, and I thought you knew how my doors worked by now.”
Gerry did. He knew exactly how they worked. So, the only reason he’d been sucked into that ticklish vortex was because he had… opened the door. He reddened, turning his head to hide his face, mumbling incoherently.
Michael snorted, an unusual sound from it, and combed its fingers through Gerry’s hair. “Is Gerard embarrassed?” It teased. “Is Gerard embarrassed at how ticklish he is?”
Gerry twitched, grinning into the floor. “I think we’re past the point where you can call me Gerry, don’t you?” He muttered, proud of the minimal squeakiness to his voice.
Michael’s expression froze for a long moment. Gerry looked up at it, feeling something in his stomach melt when its face softened. “I’d like that.” Michael murmured.
“Good.”
The smirk was back. “Is Gerry embarrassed at how ticklish he is?”
Monster Tickle Thoughts #1: Werewolves as Tickle Monsters
I think a Werewolf would be my ideal tickle monster, hear me out! Werewolves are big intimidating bois that can tower over the lee, grinning menacingly down at them with a mouth full of sharp teeth, slooowly leaning down and growling playfully into their soon-to-be victim’s ear “run” and you better run too! Cause these guys are inhumanly fast! Maybe they’ll let you run a little, wear yourself out, watch you lean against a tree to catch your breath, and then tackle you to the ground and start their viscous onslaught! Or maybe they won’t even let you get that far, maybe you’ll turn to run and by the time you’ve managed to make it maayyybe a foot or two they’ll already be on you!
Speaking of! Just look at these guys! They’ve got big fuzzy paws with sharp claws that could be devastating on sides, tummies, hips, feet, and all those ticklish places! Just imagine having one of these on you, scribbling and squeezing up and down your sides, tracing their claw around your belly button, hunting down all your most sensitive while holding you down with big strong arms.
Oh and don’t even get me started on what they could do with that muzzle!....Nah I’m gonna start!
Think about it! Having a werewolf grinning down at you and watching you thrash and laugh, they’re probably laughing along with you! Watching a victim fall to pieces at their claws would be very amusing to them, but they aren’t done with you yet oooh no! Not by a long shot. Imagine if they just lean in next to your ear and start teasing “Why are you laughing so much? Do my claws tickle that bad? Or are you just that ticklish? What? Does it bother you when I say tickle? Well tickle, tickle, tickle! I guess you just have to take it don’t you? Not that you’re complaining! You haven’t asked me to stop once! You humans are so adorable! Oh I could just do this for hours! Maybe I will...” then proceeding to bury their muzzle into your neck and start nuzzling, nibbling, and teasing until you have tears in your eyes and your laughter has gone silent for the third time.
Thank you @atnightiscream for the inspiration for this post. It’s about time I share my own headcanons for everyone’s favorite kind of blood-draining monster. ‘Tis the season! 🎃🧛
🐍Venom
Vampires have ticklish venom that acts in such a way that it tickles the victim horrendously as it seeps into their bloodstream.
But what if vampires had other kinds of ticklish venom? What if a vampire’s venom simply makes its victims more ticklish?
🍪Taste
Death didn’t dampen a vampire’s sense of taste, instead it was heightened. They found that they prefer blood from a specific type of people and in a specific state of being:
What if a vampire preferred the blood of a companion that recently been tickled or is currently being tickled?
And the more ticklish their victim is, the more tasty the blood. The fact that their victim enjoyed the tickling they endured is just the icing on top.
🔮Illusion
Sharp teeth piercing a human’s skin is not a pleasant sensation for many. It can be so painful that they may faint in the process.
But what if vampires had the ability to make their victims experience a gentle tickling throughout their body instead of pain? Maybe the tickling can be in specific spots. Maybe they can change how the tickling feels – is it feathers? A paintbrush? Claws?
The vampire feeds and their companion is instead being playfully tickled by an invisible tickle monster oblivious to pain or discomfort.
