Attitude of an Adolescent ₊˚⊹♡
Summary: Becoming an entomologist is hard work. The pressure had gotten to poor Elizabeth's head and she has been nothing short of unpleasant. A well executed ambush puts the poor girl in her place, along with a reminder to the one that loves her the most
Tobi talks: I know I usually draw something for the fic but I'm gonna skip out on this one. Managed to get into a peak flow state at 2am to get this done and I'm honestly super glad, something nice and sweet to end the year, I hope you guys have a nice holiday with your family. Realized midway through I was essentially projecting my own feelings of stress and pressure that I experience irl into the story(which is why I don't post as much anymore). Moral of the story, the people around you will be the ones to save you from any hole you've dug yourself into, never forget to open up! Here's to 2026! ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰
Mrs. Mulberry was sure she raised a polite girl. It defined her child in her early youth and carried further as she grew up. In the blink of an eye, Elizabeth was already 16 years old, and very disrespectful.
The model’s hand idly and thoughtlessly stirred the tea seated on her nightstand, novela open on her lap, and a fire going steady in the fireplace. The amber environment was a perfect way to unwind after a long day at work. She wouldn’t, rather couldn’t, muster up the energy to push these thoughts to the wayside.
The splash of milk and teaspoon of sugar were well incorporated by now, yet her hand did not cease its death spiral motion.
Her mind replayed the events from earlier like clockwork.
“Eliza, where have you been?” She started, standing tall near the entrance of the mansion. Meanwhile, her daughter was in the middle of pulling off her boots. The thunderstorm rang loudly outdoors, the crackle of lightning brightened the sky for just a moment, before returning back to the deep color of the sky.
Heather didn’t get a response, the purple hair on Elizabeth’s head dripped water onto the shiny floors. The candlelight from the chandeliers were relentless in exposing her poor state.
The impeccable expedition attire she wore when she left earlier that day was ruined now. Dirty, soaking wet, and stained with mud. Only her face and neck remained bare, the water made her pale skin glisten like glitter in the amber light.
“Elizabeth?” Mrs. Mulberry’s tone hardened, yet remained soft. Like she always has been.
“I was out.” Eliza sounded dull of emotion.
Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.
“Really now? You don’t normally spend so much time there. Today was different, wasn’t it?”
Elizabeth’s gaze did not linger on her mother for a second, as she sighed deeply. “So what if it was?” There it was, that murmur had just a dash of annoyance to tell Heather everything.
She really didn’t want to argue with her child again, especially not at this time. Eliza’s brisk walk to the grand staircase leading to the second floor was halted, when her mother gingerly stepped in front of her.
“As a matter of fact, it does.” Her voice rang out clearly in the large hall of their home. The authority she held over this girl did not need to be screamed into her ears or argued with. They’ve been through this so many times before, why couldn’t she understand?
Elizabeth’s shoulders tensed, she lifted her head sharply, making eye contact. As their arguments continued, her grimace gradually became more raw, and clearer to the resentment she held against her mother. Mrs. Mulberry thought she would get used to being looked at so sourly, the subtle pang in her heart told another story.
Her composure remained intact, pity tears did not waver the defiant resolve of her teenager. Not that she was faking those. She had to be grateful the low light in the room didn’t reveal the water leaking at the bottom of her eyes.
“Darling, where exactly were you?” Heather hid her arms behind her back, straightening her posture. “‘I was out’ isn’t a valid response, I’m afraid.”
The brim of her large hat cast a dark shadow over her face, even while looking at her. Her lime green eyes glinted slightly. “The forest.”
She let out a winding, melodic hum. “Ah, the one I forbid you from going into, I presume?”
The visage of the teenager scrunched up briefly in annoyance. The chubbiness of her cheeks really stood out. Had this moment not been so serious, she would have pinched her cheek and coo that her baby fat never really went away.
Maybe she would get to kiss her face after, without being yelled at.
“You mean the one you’re too paranoid to realize it’s actually harmless?” She quipped, putting her hands on her hips.
Heather’s eyebrow twitched, she stayed calm, “Elizabeth, don’t forget I own that forest. I’ve done a favor for the British public by keeping them out and that includes you. ‘Paranoid’ is a description I appreciate coming from you, even you know how much I want to keep you safe." Even now, she still found the time to make stupid jokes.
She argued. “Last time I checked, people could go anywhere they owned!”
“Precisely. But for you young lady, that doesn’t apply to you. At least not to the forest.” Her gaze remained pointed, she wished Eliza would look at her. Look at all the love and affection brewing in her eyes and come to an agreement.
Elizabeth’s ears felt hot and she snapped, raising her volume. “You can’t keep doing this to me! I want to go out!”
“And you can, but,” Heather slowly kneeled in front of her, before taking hold of her daughter’s chin. “There are limits to where that is. You’re more than welcome to practice your entomology anywhere on our property, but that forest is off limits. It’s dangerous for a young girl like you.”
She pulled away, taking a defensive stance. “I know how to protect myself, just let me prove it!”
“Prove to me first you can be trusted.” She corrected. “Or you’ll be going out with an escort again, are we clear?”
The tips of her ears were a deep shade of pink and from her furious expression, Heather couldn’t tell if she was about to burst into tears or having a screaming fit. She did neither, shoving past her mother angrily, she could still hear her muttering expletives to herself as she charged up the stairs.
Her bootless feet thundered loudly until Elizabeth opened her bedroom door and slammed it so hard, it made the windows shutter.
Heather let the tears pooling in her eyes finally stream down her pale face. Progress was made tonight, the long fights they’d have were becoming fewer and far between. Although less explosiveness probably didn’t necessarily qualify it as not a fight.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her chest quivering with contained sobs. Her throat ached as an oversized ball climbed up and wedged itself. If she tried to talk here, she would surely break down.
She didn’t want another maid to locate her lady on the couch, sobbing to herself. Perhaps a nice book and tea could clear her mind.
There were dry tear stains over her chiseled face now. Her hand was still mixing the teaspoon into her teacup, creating a tiny vortex into the now cold liquid. She didn’t care for the events of her book, her mind was too fuzzy to remember what happened in it.
She worked hard to be a providing mother, loving, living in a house only most wouldn’t see in their lifetime.
Before Elizabeth began to reject her affections all together, the two were inseparable. Always playing, always laughing. Heather did not expect all things to remain, bedtime stories at her age would be laughable. But to this extent? Pushing her away, calling her names, it was heartbreaking.
The waterworks were opening up again. No more, no more would she be tormented by her dishonesty and insults. Who’s to say their times together had to remain tense? She shut her book, placed it on the nightstand beside her cup, and let go of the teaspoon, letting the vortex die on its own terms. It was time to pay her daughter a visit.
If she touched the burning logs of wood in the fireplace, would they compare to the metaphorical coals embedded into her face? It was a dumb question, but one that intrusively persisted in the back of her mind rather annoyingly.
During the day she was a valiant entomologist, at night, Elizabeth was a big baby because her mommy didn’t let her go into the woods.
She knew that wasn’t the real reason why she was upset or why she was cocooned in a blanket on her settee couch. Eliza had bathed and changed clothes a while ago, but the warmth did nothing to ease the tension her body felt. Currently, she just felt tense and tired all the while.
But she didn’t want to sleep, she wanted to throw herself on the couch and imagine throwing every unimaginable insult to her mother until she was in tears like herself. Only then, she would feel a tenth of the agony she felt went through by being denied by her.
Elizabeth would eventually work up the bravery to walk up to her mother and go on about what a terrible mother she was. But the mental image of her devastation didn’t bring her the sickening satisfaction of standing up for herself.
No, she wasn’t scared of hurting her feelings or seeing her cry again. In fact, mom deserved it.
Eliza’s vision was like a foggy mirror, the waterfall of salty tears made it hard to make out the details of her bed chamber. Nothing past the light of the fireplace made it easier to see the rest of her room.
A new wave of sobs and hiccuping escaped, it was her third attempt at holding back. She was just too upset, too angry to yell at the one causing her pain. She flopped around the couch, looking one-to-one like a tantruming toddler.
It wasn’t fair. That forest that so much life hidden away, hidden for her to find and share with the world. Mother never had any issue with her interest with bugs, but that little caveat pissed her off to no end. What did she know about that forest?
She always returned home with her limbs attached so there should be no problem there. Did mother want her to fail? To lose and be forgotten among the race of explorers just like her?
It was hard enough being a girl in a world like this, always expected to be so demure and polite. Eliza had the opportunity and she would take it by any means necessary. But for now, she needed a good cry.
That little tantrum of hers lasted forever, growling, grumbling, crying, and sneezing joined the symphony of crackles when it came to the burning wood. By the end of it, she was a mess, red face, teary eyed, and still very pissed off.
However, what went from a little tired quickly morphed to fatigue, she was already feeling a small headache come on. She threw the blanket off her shaky body, sniffling.
The fine nightgown that was pressed, folded, and left by her maid after her explosive entrance was now wrinkled and unkempt by the thrashing. The bug-lover patted a few of the wrinkles away, before dragging her bare feet to her bed. The closer she got, the softer it looked, putting her in a trance, tempting her to lie down. She threw herself onto the surface and immediately decompressed.
Eliza wormed her way into the soft sheets, each one feeling like heaven as they fell onto her tired body. If melting into a bed were a contest, she would win first place.
She plopped her head into the plush pillow, her eyelids already feeling the pull of invisible weights. Not long after, she was breathing deeply into the nice smelling sheets, and falling asleep. Before completely passing out, she felt a twinge of disappointment that Maximus couldn’t join her.
Sleep like that of Wonderland itself, even greater as a matter of fact, especially when they were so rare to experience. Nothing could explain what compelled Elizabeth to wake up at this time. Under the cover of darkness, she could pick up the faint aroma of the burnt ashes of wood.
It was nearly pitched black in her room, even after she pulled the covers from off her face. The storm from earlier covered the moon, so even the front row view to the outdoors from her windows didn’t help.
Eliza blinked slowly, tiredness still weighing down her body. She laid back down and snuggled into bed to find the tranquility she was just in. Being able to bounce back was a blessing in disguise, as she sank further and further.
The pressure steadily increased on her chest and limbs, the weight of her sheets getting heavier and heavier. When she wiggled her shoulders, her eyes shot wide open upon realizing she couldn’t move.
Elizabeth felt a chill go down her spine. She tried to thrash and kick, the comforter on top of her lying body weighed a ton now. She quickly fell too weak to struggle anymore, from the collarbone down, she was restrained by this peculiar constriction.
The weight didn’t crush her body or feel unpleasant, in fact, it felt warmer, like a hard embrace that refused to let go of her darling.
She would have fallen victim to slumber if it weren’t for the exception she couldn’t move. The cruel maid that placed this dastardly trap for a comforter would pay handsomely for this transgression. Just as when she was going to scream for help, she heard a loud creak at the foot of her bed.
Her breathing got stuck in her throat, not from sobbing, but fear. It didn’t seem to come from anywhere specific, not under or on the bed, just somewhere near its end.
Her heart sank when a gentle pressure snaked around where her legs were, searching for something. What it was did not find her legs immediately, when it did, it occurred to Elizabeth the thing grazing her covered ankle was a hand.
If the weather had cooperated and shown the moon, maybe she could see the perpetrator. Was it someone coming to take her hostage and use her to siphon ransom money? Maybe she had read too many books but people of her class weren’t immune to the threat. The end of the comforter was tossed back like it didn’t weigh a million pounds.
The perp neatly folded it to end at her ankles, exposing her feet.
She had no time to think. Something soft began to brush against the sole of her left foot. Her brain’s neurons started misfiring. Her instincts kicked in and it curled up her foot.
That didn’t discourage the perp from continuing their ministries. This was…so immature, treating her like some mere child with this absurd activity.
The soft, teasing touches were starting to get to her. Elizabeth forced her mouth to stay closed and resisted further urges to start grinning. It was like the perp could hear her struggle.
She breathed sharply through her nose when the same soft object touched down on her other sole. With two of them swishing away at her feet, Eliza started to crack. The wiggling, defiant frown was rapidly becoming a cheerful smile.
When what felt like feathers crept up to her arches, she squealed.
“Nahahahaha! Nohohot thehere!” She erupted, sweet giggles bubbled out of her like a kettle releasing steam.
This only made the tools move faster, not caring how the feet scrunched up, it only created wrinkles for the devious tools to worm their way into. Elizabeth laughed louder, squeezing her eyes shut, unable to handle the tickling. The perp merely smiled at the sight, one only they could see in the darkness, utterly adorable.
Now it was time to get a little more personal. The tools stopped moving, giving Eliza a brief break.
“Please.” What? “Please lehet me go.” She was still giggling as she begged.
They grinned. Oh this sweet summer child.
Dear Lizzy had no idea who or what she was dealing with. They let her relax as they prepared for their next attack.
Elizabeth would have flown out of this bed when she felt a single finger rake down her foot. What sounded like a strangled laugh at the touch became frantic, loud giggling as manicured nails expertly skittered down the skin.
While the feather was gentle and maddening, these nails were intentional with their touch. Torturously dancing all over the place like it was no one’s business.
“Ahahanything but thahat!” Eliza was very quickly sobbing with laughter, her chest shaking with unbridled mirth. She made a noise of confusion when it all stopped, her heart jumped when she felt her left toes being grabbed, pulling the ticklish skin taut and vulnerable.
The nails started wiggling against her heel, before jumping to her sole and making maddening circles there, scrabbling at the arch, then returning to the heel again. Whoever it was was strong, she couldn’t move her foot an inch and that was terrible.
Elizabeth shook her head back and forth, immersed in her mirth, loud, boisterous cackles were being forced out of her. The perpetrator felt compelled to ask what was so funny, they didn’t want to make the other foot feel lonely, so they gave it the same treatment, only to be met with double the laughter.
Pretty soon, it was fingers wiggling away at both feet, following them as they turned their ankles to get away from the evil tickly fingers. It was only when they heard Eliza start gasping they slowed down and removed their evil assets. Elizabeth very quickly drank in the greedy breaths of the air that she could, giggling in between her recovery.
“Nohoho mohohore, plehehease…” She sounded so cute, her exhaustion was clear.
A maternal instinct washed over the perp, one that urged her to hold her daughter. Heather smiled and chuckled mischievously, she would make herself known now. Her baby girl could have as much sleep as she wanted, just after she was finished doing this.
The feather returned to her left foot again, making the British teen start giggling again. Heather grinned wickedly, when her painted claws touched down on the other foot, making her shriek briefly.
“Dohohohon’t!” She cried out, wiggling her toes. The urge to go for the kill now was strong, but she would tenderize her prey before consumption. All in a day’s work from the Tickle Monster herself.
The nails quickly wormed into the youthful insteps. Heather's smile widened at the endearing observation, so many years later and they were still as soft as cotton.
Elizabeth was suffering the most here, having her mother tickle her feet again like she was a little girl again. Her cheeks burned and her eyes felt misty already, not from an oncoming cry session, but the purest form of joy.
It took her back, back when things were easier. When the stress of finding the next bug species did not permeate her life and when she and her mother actually liked being in a room with each other.
Correction, when Elizabeth actually wanted a relationship with her mother.
This revelation was usurped by the feeling of another feather on her left foot. This didn’t stop her from laughing, this made her watery eyes tear up even more. Her eyes bugged out of her skull when she felt not one or two, but a remarkably ultra soft trio of feathers teasing the hell out of her foot.
The incredibly soft (and annoying) sensation just increased three fold. What noises was she even making now, caterwauling?
Mrs. Mulberry couldn’t help herself and began to let out a few chuckles of her own. It had been years since they’ve had a moment like this, children her age wouldn’t be caught down being tickled within an inch of their life like this by their mommy’s.
“Coochie coo~ A coochie coochie coo~” She hummed in the teasiest voice she could muster. The monster hadn’t lost her touch at all, it further added pigment to her daughter’s already colored flesh.
“Nohohoho! Shuhuhut uhuhup!” What was that about being no longer tormented by her dishonesty or insults? Heather clicked her tongue, she wasn’t going to let that slide.
Heather used both hands on one foot, yet kept her touch as gentle, titillating of her skin like the feathers were. All while her magic persisted, the three feathers danced against the soft skin.
Two more were magically summoned, but not to join the dancing feathers. They turned upside down and dove the nibs in between her toes, poking rapidly at the ultra sensitive skin.
All while she herself was still scritching 10 fingers into the flesh and at one point, held the toes back to deliver nibbling-like-pinches between them then skittering back down to torment the smooth expanse. Her toes were too ticklish for her own good.
“Tickletickletickletickle!” She quickly sang.
Elizabeth sobbed with laughter, snorting, rolling tears making her burning cheeks damp. She felt high with laughter, souring to the peaks of euphoria as she was mercilessly tormented.
It felt good to laugh like this again, all vulnerable with her mummy. Elizabeth stopped begging for mercy, she didn’t want it, all she wanted was to be stress-free again.
What was a few minutes felt like an eternity, a euphoric eternity at that. By the end of it all, the feathers were sent away, the comforter was pulled back over her feet, and its supernatural weight was restored back to normal.
Heather wiped the mirthful tears from her eyes, smiling warmly at her dear child. This touch would have gotten her scolded a few hours ago, but now, she was too lost in cloud 9 to even care.
Heather promised herself she wouldn’t cry again, it was as if a fog had lifted from her. It was tainting her child into a bitter and hateful person. Now she was at peace and it was beautiful.
Mrs. Mulberry sat at her side where she was, threading her long fingers into her scalp. Elizabeth was too weak to move, allowing the affection to go on without complaint.
Heather leaned down to press a single kiss to her forehead, unknown to her daughter, her lips were laced with a spell to place her in immediate sleep. Eliza’s half lidded eyes collapsed as soon as they touched her skin.
Mrs. Mulberry hoped wherever paradise she landed in would permit her words to travel through.
Elizabeth smiled in her sleep.
