overbaked-tkls

[overbaked-tkls]

vent

why do i feel like my mom loves the AI more than me

i was having low self esteem, so i asked her if my outfit looked good. and she took a picture of me without asking me first and sent it to fucking microsoft copilot saying 'does my daughter's outfit look nice?'

this had happened on multiple ocasions already, even when i told her it made me uncomfortable, so i got upset. because if i wanted a response from an ai, i could have done it myself

and as i'm walking away, she whispers to the ai loud enough for me to hear "i think she has some sort of ai bias'

so while im sitting in my room, crying because i cant ask her a single thing about advice or if she likes anything i do without her taking out her phone and opening microsoft copilot

i hear her talking away to the stupid chatbot about how my hate towards ai will pass, and that ill change myself and understand the future, and that my generation will accept ai-generated content is better

[overbaked-tkls]

[ Also in- honor of @hahjsshnanans772's birthday, happy birthday you little they /pos + silly ]

ㅤㅤㅆㅤ1x1x1x1 tickle headcanons  ㅤㅆ

ㅤㅤㅤ𐂯ㅤGeneral headcanons ㅤ𐂯

ㅤ ✶ 1x1x1x1 is VERY much a ler. She's so unbelievably evil it's crazy. 1x1x1x1 has only ever gotten into tickle fights with the other killers, because the survivors [ Minus Shedletsky and Chance. ] are too scared to come up to them like that. Especially since they're at risk at getting killed by his hands.

ㅤ ✶ One thing that I believe killers do, is that, sometimes, they'll deviate from what the Specter wants, and go on their own little hunt, this is what allows them to tickle survivors for a round instead of killing them. 1x1x1x1 was the last person to hop on the train of doing this, and that's only because she thought it was stupid until she tried it, and comes to find out, it's a great tactic to use against annoying survivors.

ㅤ ✶ When 1x1x1x1 was little, Shedletsky would turn into Telamon whenever they had a tickle fight, usually, it scared little 1x1x1x1 off, but, sometimes it became more fun to beat a god in their own game. [Though, they did lose a lot since Telamon was such a sore loser. ] ㅤ ✶ 1x1x1x1 has his zipper mouth, both good for being a ler who can nibble on people with the groves, and pretty horrible for when they're a lee, especially since they're SO loud. Shedletsky is the only person who zips her mouth whenever he's being tickled and reacting a little TOO loudly.

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ♱ㅤLer headcanons ㅤ♱

ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 is a spider-like creature. I don't think I need to elaborate too much, but, you'd be surprised on how soft spider's arms are. ㅤ𓉸 CLAWS. 1x1x1x1 is cartoonishly evil with her claws it's CRAZY. Type of person to rub his hands together and wiggle their claws in front of their lee.

ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 is not the type of person to be playful, but, if you're expecting no teasing because of how 'serious' they are, you'd be wrong. ㅤ𓉸 " Oh, this tickles? Poor thing. I don't care. Squirm around all you want, little thing. It's not going to help you. " in her overly-glitchy voice and all. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 surprisingly enough, actually doesn't mind children. They may be the embodiment of hatred, but, it reminds her of a simpler time. They ARE able to give gentler tickles, especially to C00lkidd, though, he gets annoyed very easily and is not against just dropping someone on their head if they are pissing her off.

ㅤ𓉸 The word gets used a lot, but, if there is ONE person in Forsaken that can be described as a 'tickle monster' [ besides the Specter but shhhshhh... ] It is 1x1x1x1.

ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 is not above using her minions to tickle people. Whether it be so he can go after another while they get one survivor, or, them simply holding a lee down while she has free range of all eight of his arms. ㅤ𓉸 " I see you.... ~ " Using their unstable eye, 1x1x1x1 is able to track down a lee easier, especially if he's planning on targeting a specific survivor for whatever reason. However, it also makes her easier to attack back, since they are unable to see properly. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 can and HAS tied up lees before with her chains. [ slowly looks at a drawing on my wall. ] She's not someone who is really all that into soft, 'gentle' tickling, just due to her pure rage and hatred.

ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 doesn't really do aftercare, but, if you're lucky, his minions will come and help you up, maybe even bring you things, but, that's only if 1x1x1x1 wills them to, which, they will deny doing. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 has chased down a few of their lees before, and is not against a good game of cat and mouse. Though, 1x1x1x1 ALWAYS gets his guy in the end. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 doesn't do raspberries as much as she thinks about using them. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 uses pet names, but they're always meant in a demeaning manner, rather than an affectionate or adoring manner. These pet names came range from straight up insults, to just calling someone 'small, insignificant', to even pointing out how they look, though, he'd never call someone anything genuinely hurtful, just kinda dickish at worst. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1's main attack is to scribble and claw at the lee wherever they can. 1x1x1x1 isn't very methodical in her tickling skills, he's very much just someone who grabs at wherever they can, and hopes for a few laughs. ㅤ𓉸 1x1x1x1 swears up and down that he thinks laughter is annoying, and unnecessary, but, they get a warm feeling they don't usually get from killing people. Something about tickling makes them, even if just for a moment, a little less hateful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⛮ㅤLee headcanons ㅤ⛮

ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 has a very airy, wheezy laugh to them. Their laughs are hiccupy and very subtle. They only really get loud when someone goes INSIDE their gelatinous torso to get at their bones, which are, surprisingly, more ticklish than other parts of them. ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 got ganged up on ONCE by the other killers, and has yet to forgive any of them. And has been even more rough when it comes to tickling them since.

ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 has OVERLY ticklish ribs, but, if you REALLY wanna get a spot on her, you need to go for the nape of his neck. 1x1x1x1 has a LOT, if not MOST of the blood flow in their neck, especially since they're an undead hacker. So, there's a lot of feeling in his neck where there wouldn't otherwise be.

ㅤ⛦ Difficult lee. Bucks, bites, hits. He does it all. They don't like feeling weak, and ticklishness is a VERY bad weakness. ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 threatens their ler, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. ㅤ⛦ REALLY feather sensitive. Even LOOKING at a feather gets them into a HUGE lee mood. So, they very much love hate feathers. ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 isn't really someone who likes to give or receive aftercare, but, the few times that it's happened, they find that getting massages, or just having someone gently touch their spinal cord, is way more comforting than they'd dare to admit. ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 HAS been tickled by his minions before. And, occasionally encourages it, albeit very briefly, just incase they're in a lee mood, since, they can quickly disband the minions when they're no longer wanting to be tickled. ㅤ⛦ Surprisingly sensitive to verbal teases, 1x1x1x1 is the type of person to just sit there and grumble while they're being teased. Anticipation is less likely to work, as they'll usually just grab the ler's wrists and it it back on them. ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 HAS to be held down in some way when being tickled, they're way too fast, and he's way too stubborn to go down without a fight, and she's not afraid to give someone a black eye. ㅤ⛦ " IHIHIH HATE THIS! I HATE YOU! " As 1x1x1x1 is all smiles and laughs, he acts like he hates every second of being tickled, and sure, part of her does, but, there's another, bigger part who enjoys the simplicity of it. ㅤ⛦ 1x1x1x1 WILL get revenge on the ler, no questions asked. It doesn't matter how wound down they are, they're GOING to get revenge, even if it's not instantly.

[overbaked-tkls]

abc to watch me perform a live lobotomy on itrapped

gift for my mootie @stonetosserrr …ll yes this is my third gift for them I think but they deserve it!!! yay!!! Also changed itrapped’s design a little bit okay bye

[overbaked-tkls]

allllright i should PROBABLY close reqs until i get sum more fics out

[overbaked-tkls]

wait... Can I request uhhh

Lee! Bloxburg news reporter guy and ler! The masked (tom) + ler! The decayed (they're all from forsaken)

respectfully i have to decline cuz. 1. i have no idea how to do this req and 2. i don't plan on figuring it out

sorry to disappoint!

[overbaked-tkls]

Hello I would prefer to keep my identity secret as of now I am friends with the user @/iburntthewateragain He was curious about why you blocked him this is not an attempt to have him unblocked it's just to find out the reason for the block

hi, thanks for respectfully reaching out.

right before i deleted my old account i decided to look through some of my mutuals blogs (which included his) because i hadn't really done that before.

long story short he just rubs me the wrong way. I think the “jokes” he makes (about h1tler, terr0rism, slurs, generally sensitive topics) are a little pushy, even though he has said before it's just 'dark humor'. also some of his opinions on proshipping as far as I've seen are a little questionable.

it might just be a personality thing, but i just don't want to feel uncomfortable. i hope you (and him) understand

[overbaked-tkls]

1

eggs

1

eggs

1

eggs

1

eggs

🍳

indeed

[overbaked-tkls]

SMALL LITTLE DRABBLE (actually, this isn’t that small)

tw: tickles teehee, and implications/mentions of an eating disorder. you have been warned.

A/N: pizzaburger,,, pizza..,,, burger,,, yummm,,, also imagine 7n7 is a bit chubby for this,,, that’s how I typically write him anyways,,, also hi hello this is my first attempt at writing in a very long time, don’t crucify me (this might be ooc, forgive me) [Lee!007n7, Ler!Elliot]

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“7n7, have you been eating properly?”

The sudden question from Elliot startled the poor man out of his frenzied thoughts, blue eyes widening while a startled gasp flew out of his mouth. His fingers gently adjusted his glasses - something he always seemed to do when he was nervous - and quickly waved the question down, as if he was trying to play it off.

“Are you…worried about me?” 7n7 responded with a shake of his voice, clearly not expecting the pizza delivery guy to be concerned. He knew their history with one another. Deep down, he knew he was upset at both him and his kid for burning down the restaurant — rightfully so, he might add. And with the way he seemed to brush him off during the matches didn’t seem to help either.

But this felt different. It felt sincere, which was odd since regularly, Elliot tended to ignore the latter.

“Don’t respond with a question, idiot. You’ve been… slowing down during matches, and I don’t see you in the hall that often. So have you or have you not been eating?”

7n7’s face seemed to drop, giving Elliot the answer he needed. Truth be told, he had been skipping out on eating with the other survivors; there’s been a lot on his mind, after all. His… unfortunate relationships with the other survivors, how he was getting out of this purgatory and of course, the big one:

His son.

It was only a few days in when he realized that his son was in this place with him, which meant quite a few things. He had never thought that he’d be the enemy, though, and it’s sent him on multiple spirals downward. He would rather not bother anyone else with this information though so he kept it to himself. There’s no harm in what people don’t know, right?

“It’s no big deal.” He responded weakly, his lips thinning into a straight line. The way his expression dulled sent shivers down Elliot’s spine. It was clear that 7n7’s done this before, though it was unclear if anyone had been able to see through his rather lackluster performance.

“Don’t give me that bullshit excuse, 7!” Elliot snapped back, blue eyes sharply piercing through his soul. With the way the older one flinched, he realized that he may have scared him a little. He didn’t want that; he just… he had a hard time communicating with the memories of their past echoing through his ears.

Shit. Was that a bit too harsh?

“Let me… try this again,” he collected himself with a soft whisper, a hand carding through his blonde hair. 7n7 could only stare — despite the roughness of Elliot’s tone, he knew that he was only trying to do what was best for him. It made his heart beat a little faster considering this was the first time in quite a while that someone had attempted to communicate and care with the ex-hacker.

“Sorry for… snapping at you. I just… you look a lot thinner than you used to.“ 7n7 was a little surprised that the other had paid so much attention to his health despite well, not paying attention to him at all. Sure, he may have expected this out of someone like Guest or Shedletsky. Those two were always very casual with him despite knowing what he’s done, but having someone who he hurt have some sort of forgiveness, even if it wasn’t whole, was a start in the right direction.

“It’s nice to know someone else is keeping an eye on me,” 7n7 nodded slightly as his lips turned up into a soft smile. He then paused for a moment, looking down at his frame; had he lost weight? His eyesight wasn’t as good as it used to, considering he didn’t have his old prescription glasses. “…though it doesn’t look like I’m any different. Unless you’re seeing something I can’t.”

Elliot’s mind wandered, along with his own eyes, at 7n7’s waist. Of course he could see it. Working in the food industry for so long made him very keen to details. His hands absentmindedly advanced toward his middle, fingers curling around the skin there.

“See, right here. I can almost feel your bone if I press down like this.” And with that statement, a high-pitched squeal escaped 7n7’s mouth. It seemed Elliot was a little too worried about his condition to stop and wonder what the hell was happening though. He could feel 007n7’s skin tremble against him. Small titters and squeaks escaped his mouth, as much as he tried to keep it back, and the hacker’s hands went to wrap around Elliot’s own gently.

How gentle he was, 7n7 thought.

“Elliot—“ 7n7 breathed out, his lips curved upward into a wobbly smile. His pale face tinted with a hint of embarrassment, the pink flushing nicely against his complexion. His grip tightened a bit when the delivery boy looked up. It was a sight to behold, really.

He didn’t think someone who had done him so wrong in the past could look so… ah, what’s the word?

Adorable?

“You alright? I’m not hurting you, am I?” An involuntary smile etched across Elliot’s face, and for a split second, he found himself wanting more of 7n7’s own. He was supposed to hate this man — but when he stared at him for a split second longer than he was supposed to, the image of who he once knew never came to mind. Not like this, at least.

“N-No, you’re… fihihine.” 7n7’s words were laced with soft giggles, his body trying its best to stay still in case he accidentally hurt the guy while squirming. A beat of time passed, and Elliot’s eyes widened in realization. A small smirk graced his face; he was definitely going to use this to his advantage.

“Oh? Ticklish, are we?” Elliot purred teasingly, his fingers more deliberate in where they pressed. Right between the soft flesh, right below his ribs, nowhere was safe from his fingers. The pinches were driving 7n7 mad, yet the only thing he could do was just keep giggling. It felt nice, though he wouldn’t ever admit that out loud.

“Y-Yohohou…! E-Elliot, p-plehehase..”

“Nuh-uh-uh,” came the quick response from Elliot, squeezing him only a bit tighter. “I want you to start eating in the hall with all the other survivors, do you understand? I’m not gonna sit here and watch you do this to yourself.”

“Ihihihi— I cahahan’t promise thahahat!” 7n7 retorted back, knees threatening to buckle underneath him. Elliot only took that as a challenge. He was going to get 7n7 to agree to these conditions, even if he had to tickle it out of him.

“Oh? Is that so?” A sly tone crept into Elliot’s words, making 7n7’s face turn a slight darker pink. His fingers never stopped their dance, never more than a feather-like touch gracing the tips. For whatever reason, it seemed to be getting the most out of 7n7 anyways; why fix what isn’t broken?

“Mheheh— hehehHEHE…” 7n7 couldn’t even answer him back. He was too lost in his own giggling to even comprehend what was happening anymore. It had been a while since he let go like this. Last time he could even recall being tickled like this was with Noli.

“Awh,” Elliot cooed, expression softening as his hands dipped underneath 7n7’s shirt, kneading at the soft flesh underneath. He started gently pinching and squeezing the rolls of his torso, making him writhe and squirm hysterically. He noticed the way his hands curled, as if they were unsure of where to go, but didn’t really try to push him away. “Where’s that threatening aura you used to have in your hacking days, huh? Still have that?”

7n7 went to answer him, to tell him that he had found a new purpose besides hacking and had completely lost that ‘threatening aura’ but the shriek that left his mouth left both of them speechless. The other’s hands had wandered a bit too far up, finding themselves underneath 7n7’s arms. A devious chuckle escaped Elliot as he tapped his fingers a few more times. “Oh, look at this… a bad spot?”

“Wahahait— Elliot, plehehease!” Oh, so he was begging deliberately now. Hmm. Elliot pondered, clearly exaggerating in his facial expressions; he was acting as if the one underneath him was a child. His fingers barely moved.

“Well… if you say so…—“

After hearing Elliot’s resignation, 7n7 let out a soft sigh. He watched as the other slowly pulled his hands away. The tint on his cheeks couldn’t get any brighter, and if he continued, he was sure to lose his mind for real. But all that went down the drain when the delivery guy shot his hands back underneath there, poking and prodding away.

“…—NOT!”

“WAHAHAIT!” The poor ex-hacker dissolved into loud laughter, and it shook Elliot to the core.

Stay focused, Elliot, stay focused. You’re only doing this because you need him to eat and stay alive. Not because he’s oddly adorable right in front of you.

Tears pricked at the corner of 7n7’s eyes, and sometimes, if Elliot hit the right spot, his nose would scrunch up too. His hands actively tried to push him away now, despite being too weak to fight back in the first place while his arms clamped his hands shut in his armpits. “C’mon, 7, you know what to do to make this allllll stop.”

“I— ohohoho, mmpfh—“ 7n7 bit his lip. He was about to swear, but he had made it a habit not to swear in front of his kid most days. Even though C00lkid wasn’t really around anymore, old habits die hard as they say. Speaking of dying hard… 7n7 was sure that Elliot was going to straight up murder him if he continued. “I cahahan’t!” he protested again, legs kicking out with futile fervor.

“Yes, you can. And you will. Unless you want to be tickled foreverrrr~” Elliot leaned down closer to him, his breath just gently brushing over his face. His glasses were fogging ever so slightly with how much he was laughing, and he could only barely see the teasing glare of the pizza boy sitting on top of him.

“I’ll give you five more seconds before I tickle you until you give in. You ready?” Elliot watched the panic spread across his face.

“One.“

“Elliot, plehehehase. I c-can’t take it.” 7n7’s body jerked upward, trying to buck him off but found he could do nothing about his fate.

“Two.”

“Ehehhelliot, I’m serious— you’re gohohonna kihihill me—!”

“Three~” Elliot’s fingers tapped his armpit slightly, making a jolt run through his body. He noted the small snort that left his mouth, one that was waaay too cute not to hear again. Yeah, 7n7 was embarrassed out of his mind but at least it wasn’t too bad. It could’ve been another embarrassing high-pitched squeal.

“Fouuur…—“

“I-I’m sohohorry?” 7n7 pleaded, knowing that if didn’t speak up now, he was in for a world full of hurt. Or tickles, rather.

“Hmm… too late for that now. You had your chance. Five!”

Elliot dug into his flesh, showing no mercy… even when the other man started hysterically laughing. He was sure one of the other survivors would eventually hear them making so much noise in the background but he didn’t care. Why world he? This was for his well-being after all. 7n7’s hands gripped him tighter, actually using a bit of force to try and shove him off this time.

“Ah, ah,” he chided, swiftly pinning him back down by digging his digits back into his armpit. The way 7n7 surrendered to the laughter and threw his head back made his chest warm inside. “C’mon, now. Say it~ say, ‘I will eat in the dining hall with everyone else tonight.’”

7n7’s chest heaved up and down, his belly bouncing with each cackle that escaped him. His shirt was riding up a bit with the way Elliot’s arms were snaked underneath it, and he knew from the expression on his face that he was at his limit.

“EHEHELLIOT—! TOO MUHUHUCH! HAHAHAHAHAH-!”

Elliot abruptly stopped when he heard that he had went a bit overboard, his hands stilling immediately. His overbearing healer instincts locked in as he stared down at the sweating, wide-smiled man.

“Shoot… y-you alright, man? I didn’t mean to go overboard.” He asked softly as he gently started to rub at the places he had been tickling, making sure to keep it gentle and smooth.

“Y-Yeah, f-fine,” he panted out a reply, giving him a short thumbs up to signal that he was completely fine. A little spent and exhausted, but still fine.

What was Elliot even thinking, tickling him like this to get him to eat? Oh dear, now he’s gonna think he’s a weirdo. Thoughts rushed through the pizza boy’s mind as he watched 7n7 sit up. He hadn’t realized that he was still sitting on his waist which he quickly got off of upon realizing.

That was fun, 7n7 wanted to say — but kept quiet. He stood up, dusting himself off as the red tint never left his face.

“Elliot?”

His head turned. “Yea, 7?”

“…I’ll see you at the dining hall.”

And with that, 7n7 turned around to leave, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with each other. Elliot’s expression faded into surprise, then subtle amusement.

Yeah, I’ll see you there buddy.

[overbaked-tkls]

BOO!! oooo scary look at that anon jumpscare. i love your works raarararararar

*runs away with oddly blog-shaped throat*

pretty sure these were sent by the same person but whatever.💔🥀my blog this needs to stop

[overbaked-tkls]

Just here to say I'm a huge fan of your comics, you make amazing little stories. :D

-from @radiant-fanon-maker

hey!! don't call my stories little!! >:( /lh

anyways thanks! you interacting with my posts makes me very happy. and i am here to entertain (rubs my hands together like a fly)

[overbaked-tkls]

hai awesome person… waves… are you potentially able to make a ler!007n7 and lee!guest1337 fic…. It’s 100% alright if you don’t want to!

would be happy to! (probably after my next fic because i have a TON of lee!guest asks) but uhh. laughs nervously. i have no idea what their dynamic is like

it would be super helpful if you sent a prompt :)

[overbaked-tkls]

Lee Guest for Anons finally

Blah blah blah this is tickle fic

“It Takes More than Pizza…”

Lee! Guest 1337

Ler! Elliot

As he respawned in the cabin, Guest got hit with a headache to rival all headaches. A throbbing, pounding, dizzying kind of headache. He groaned and went to lie down upstairs on the beanbags. To his surprise, Elliot was there before him.

“Hi Elliot…” Guest groaned and went to sit next to him.

“Hey… you good?” Elliot wasn’t used to seeing Guest like this.

“I’m fine… Just a headache.”

Elliot stared at Guest, clearly not believing him. But Guest knew what he was talking about, so if Guest says he was fine, then he was fine. It still lingered on Elliot’s mind though.

Guest took the beanbag next to Elliot and sat there, just breathing heavily. Elliot really doubted that he was, “fine.”

“Sooo… I died first… how did the round go?”

Guest sighed. “I don’t wanna talk about it…”

Elliot stopped asking questions, still worried about Guest. “Okay…”

Elliot got up out of his beanbag and went down to the main lobby of the cabin. He contemplated how to get through to Guest. He was spectating the round… it really was bad for him. He made a lot of avoidable mistakes, even when C00lkidd messed up worse.

Sure, Elliot actually did heal Guest when he was close to death, but… Guest always just lost the health right after.

And when everyone respawned back in the cabin, no one even said anything to Guest. They all just… looked at him, like he was a disease. Elliot had to admit that he was the same way.

Guest had managed to teach Elliot how to time his pizza throws and most importantly—how to aim them. Elliot was fully in debt to Guest, and so he took it upon himself to help Guest.

But… how would he? Guest never opens up to anyone, and the only thing Elliot is sure he enjoys is helping others. And he already does that. There’s no possible way he could be able to help him-

Okay. He had to stop and just… think. Guest had had tough rounds before. What could have been different about this one? Guest said he had a headache… maybe he got hit too much? Maybe Elliot was thinking too externally. Guest wasn’t just a sentinel or a survivor, he was a human person with feelings and emotions.

This brought up several possibilities. Elliot was thinking how to get through to Guest instead of how to get through to a human!

Elliot went back upstairs to find Guest wide awake, staring at the panda on the old TV. “Hi again, Guest…”

“Elliot, you were gone for two minutes.” Guest kept his eyes on the screen.

“And I was very productive in those two minutes!” Elliot’s tone wandered into annoying territory. “I was actually just… I was thinking.”

Elliot sat on the side of Guest’s beanbag. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about what happened in the round,” he shifted closer to Guest. “So, tell me about other rounds. The good rounds! The ones where you punch the killer to save someone!… usually me.”

Guest took his eyes off the screen to meet Elliot’s. He sighed. “Well… there’s the round where I parried 1x of the castle at Brandon’s place… the time I charged into John and pushed him into piranha water… oh- and the time I punched Jason so hard he dropped his machete! That was cool.”

Elliot felt more accomplished with each new memory that arose. And for a moment, they were kids again, sharing stories, laughing, having fun… like normal humans.

“Or- or- or the one time when you got, like, 6 parries in one round?”

“Yeah!”

The pair chatted for a couple more minutes before Elliot dropped his question. “Alright. Me that we established that you’ve done so much to help everyone… what happened in the round?”

Guest froze. Was he ready to talk? Was he really about to tell Elliot of all people, about what went down?

“… Elliot, I missed a punch. On the hill. Glass Houses. It… I… got someone killed. Got you killed! I was in the military. I’ve seen people die. But… knowing I caused someone’s death? … how could I ever live with that?”

“How could I ever live with myself, knowing my mistakes got you killed?”

By now, tears pricked the corners of Guest’s eyes. Elliot could tell he was speaking straight from his heart.

“How could I, someone known to save lives, let yours go-“

“Guest… stop.” Elliot reached out a hand and put it on Guest’s shoulder. He was fully crying now, tears slowly rolling down his face. Elliot embraced him. He had… never seen Guest like this before.

“That was good. That was good…” Elliot rubbed Guest’s back and, very slightly, Guest twitched. Barely enough for Elliot to feel. But he did, and it sparked an idea on his mind.

Elliot traces Guest’s back, just enough to still be considered comforting. Guest squirmed a bit.

“Guest… I just.. wow.” Elliot traced a bit more. “I don’t blame you at all.”

“E- Elliot… your hand-“

Elliot started dragging a finger down Guest’s spine, eliciting a slight squeak from the veteran.

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

“Ehehehelliot-! Whahahat are you dohohoing-?”

“I said shh.”

Guest by now knew what Elliot was doing as Elliot moved his fingers to Guest’s sides, gently kneading and spidering them along it.

“Listen, I get it.”

“Ehehehehelliot plehehehease!”

“I used to be the same way.”

“Ehehehehehehelliot!”

“I always thought that I was the problem.”

Elliot tickled faster, moving his hands to Guest’s stomach every so often.

“EHEHEheliot lihIHIHIsten-!”

“But you helped me!”

“StohoHOHOHOP-!”

“Which, I’m still a little salty about.”

“Ihihihi’m sohoHOHOHOrry!”

“You helped me see that I could do better even if I made mistakes!”

Elliot had Guest laid back on the beanbag, attempting to squirm away from his tickling.

“IhihIHIHI-! Yohohou’re wehehEHEHELCOme-?”

“So allow me, please, to do the same!”

After Elliot finished his spiel, he quickly skittered his fingers about Guest’s midsection.

“AhaHAHAHAHA! NO STOHOHOHOP!”

“Tell me you’re a great person.” Elliot kneaded into Guest’s stomach.

“WhaHAHAHAT?”

“Tell me that you’re a great person!”

“I’m a grEHEHEAT persOHOHON- I’m a great person!”

Elliot grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard!”

Guest had more tears in his eyes now, but… they weren’t sad tears this time. “PleHEHEHEHEASE! StohOHOHOHOP!”

“Okay, fine.” Elliot retracted his hands.

“Urgh… I am a mess…” Guest sat up.

“Do you feel better though?”

“… yes.”

Thank goodness the 13th is gone

The Jason mains were torture💔🥀

[overbaked-tkls]

hello, I like your works so much!! You make awesome fanfics and despite the fact that I have to use a translator because I don’t speak English I can read your fanfics every day!

I have ask for you, can you write a fanfic about Lee!Jason and Ler!Guest1337 (or anyone who you want)?

I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes while I was writing. And by the way, have a nice day!

hi, i'm super glad you like my writing! it's good that it translates nicely.

anyways LEE!JASON FOR FRIDAY THE 13TH BABYYYY YEAA!!

also WHAT. never speak again /j (i laughed for a solid minute)

(this is a sfw tickle fic! if you don't like it don't read it)

"Maybe you've got something underneath that jacket.”

words: 2,984

ler!guest1337, lee!jason

summary: rip jason's machete ????-2025 you wont be missed

---

The hum of various appliances and LED lights in the extensive horror hotel map droned on, as quick footsteps thumped against the floor. The tapping against kitchen tile, the slight creak on wooden floors, and the soft padding against brightly patterned carpet were just natural for any chase. Even more so for Jason, who was used to hunting people down to the last of their stamina, given the absence of ranged attacks in his arsenal.

His first target, Noob, hadn’t really gotten much of a head start as they were taken by surprise while doing a generator. As a result, the masked killer had made quick work of the poor survivalist. Just one more hit, and they were done for. 

He was about to finish them off, lunging to swing through one of the doorways, when someone from the side of his vision quickly invaded his space. An armored hand reeled back, before throwing itself forward. Guest 1337 had caught him halfway through a machete swing with a powerful strike, effectively stunning the killer. Noob looked back slightly to give a desperate thankful look, before booking it away. Hopefully to get a medkit.

However, Guest’s hand hadn’t only collided with Jason’s head, but it also smashed against his machete on the way. Notable for a couple reasons, one being it was a complete accident, something that would be pretty hard to replicate on purpose. Two being that despite the death grip on the weapon, the action violently ripped the blade out of the killer’s hand, sending it flying straight into Jason’s face. The machete ended up ricocheting off the top of his plastic mask, flinging surprisingly far away from the two of them up into the air.

Unrealistically far. 

Strangely.. Far?

… Is it going to come back down??

Even Guest paused for a moment to watch the weapon disappear over one of the tall rock walls while Jason was stunned. “What the hell..?” Certainly not the strangest thing that’s happened here, though. He quickly recovered as an active chainsaw was swung at him, to which he dodged and promptly ditched the scene.

It took a bit for Guest to lose chase, but a lot less than normal for some reason– Jason seemed much less confident without his main blade. However, when the killer left to go find a different victim, 1337 returned to stalk a bit behind. He did that on the norm, because it made it simpler to assist others when they started getting chased. Now though, the soldier was thinking a bit ahead. The chainsaw was all the mute killer had left as a weapon… aside from their hands, theoretically. But still, it would be a lot easier for the other survivors to, well… survive, if Jason was completely disarmed. And he was carrying the chainsaw on his back, so he could probably just… take it? 

1337 wasn’t the type to act on impulse, but once he committed to something, he didn’t back out. So after constructing a rather simple plan, he crept up behind the killer and yanked at the weapon. Jason quickly swiveled around, swinging an empty hand on instinct. Without the blade in it though, Guest just caught it and finished the job of taking the chainsaw off, tossing it to the side before harshly shoving Jason forward.

The veteran didn’t pay attention to the way the killer stumbled back into a wall, slightly cowering for a second. Guest didn’t really know anything about chainsaws, but he figured if he stomped on the chain and landed a good kick on the entire handle area, it would do something. So he did, and… somehow, it actually worked? The chain came off around where he struck, rendering the weapon practically useless. If Guest had been given any more time, he might have considered how strange that was. But he only looked back at Jason to see what the next move was. The killer showed clear hesitation, before stepping forward and trying to attack with his bare hands. Guest swore he could see fear, even with the mask covering Jason’s entire face. Nonetheless, he struck back significantly harder, throwing Jason onto the floor. 

The killer didn’t get up.

Were sentinels.. always this scary? Not having a weapon in his hand gave Jason a strange, unnerving sense of clarity, like Guest’s expression actually registered in his head. It was a determined, yet apprehensive look that made him feel uneasy. Something tugged at the back of his mind to get up and fight again, but every time the killer shifted on the floor, the sentinel tensed and his fists rose. It frightened him, enough so that he moved back, away from the sentinel. 

Looking down upon the unusual sight, Guest was torn between running away again, and staying to reason. He didn’t even feel like he was looking at a killer anymore. Though, it could be a trick to get him to come closer. Maybe the killer had a spare blade somewhere in that coat. Then again, if he did get stabbed once or twice, he could probably take it.

He wasn’t even sure yet what the whole deal with the killers was, even less about Jason himself, but as far as he knew they were probably experiencing a similar situation. Most of them gave ‘free rounds’ every once in a while, or seemed awfully disconnected from reality for actively participating in murder. Like the killers weren’t willingly there half the time– with some exceptions, of course. 

Being forced to kill people when you didn’t really want to was something Guest hadn’t quite come to experience himself, but he certainly wasn’t foreign to the idea, and couldn’t help but feel a little bad.

But his mind was mostly on helping the team. If he could convince Jason to stop completely, that would be the best for the survivors…

“H-hey. Just…” 1337 exhaled, taking a step closer. “Calm it, would you? You know, we… Don’t have to fight, since you don’t have a weapon. And I won’t punch you anymore, if you stop. I mean… wouldn’t a break be nice?”

Silence. It was expected, obviously. Although, Jason did look up at the soldier hearing the offer. Was that.. always a choice? The majority of his decisions during rounds– well, he thought they were his, but still– they were more about ‘go this way’ or ‘cut them off there’. But now he saw himself thinking a lot farther than he was used to. Clearer.

Just as the veteran was coming to terms with how hard a one-sided negotiation was going to be, Jason slightly nodded.

“.. Oh. Really?” The simplicity of the bargain caught Guest slightly off-guard. If only the people in his past had surrendered like that– or maybe even the other killers. But that was just plain unlikely– this probably only happened because he managed to disarm the other. Well, hopefully disarmed, anyway. He’d have to check.

“Okay then. You… are just going to stay here. And we’re going to wait out the timer.” Guest hesitated for another second, before fully approaching and going on one knee in front of the killer. “Hold still for a second.”

The masked killer moved back again at the sudden movement, ignoring the request.

“Hey, hey. Just need to frisk you real quick. Gotta make sure you’re not going to pull another blade on me while I’m not paying attention. Oh, and keep your hands up where I can see them?” Although Guest was a soldier, not a police officer, he wasn’t foolish enough to take easily avoidable risks. So he waited for Jason to do what he asked.

Again in the back of Jason’s head, something angrily yelled at him to not do it, to not listen to a ‘pathetic’ survivor's request. Something other than the normal encouraging voice that normally followed him around anytime he was in a round.

… But he complied with Guest anyway, and after that, the nagging disappeared. Like ‘it’ gave up, or something. Talk about pathetic.

1337 hummed in approval, before beginning to move his hands along the killer's jacket. He was quick to realize it was pretty thick, and by extension heavy. Even though he knew he wouldn’t receive a response, Guest still remarked his thoughts out loud. 

“How you carry a chainsaw and a heavy jacket around while still managing to be so fast is beyond me.. It’s impressive, to say the least.”

Both the amount of pockets Jason had and the thickness of the jacket made it inconvenient to search the killer, especially since Guest hadn’t ever searched someone before. He ended up having to roughly double check a few of the outside pockets because he wasn't sure of his work, although that didn’t end up being the main problem. The entire process wouldn't have taken more than twenty seconds if Jason didn't shift away every five, bringing his hands to where Guest was searching and making the soldier flinch back. 

The veteran’s hands were invasive, although not necessarily unwelcome. Jason wasn’t trying to interrupt him on purpose, but it just felt strange– familiar in a way, yet completely foreign to how he was used to being touched nowadays. Without the intent to hurt, but with enough roughness to earn something other than the knowledge his pockets were empty; he felt himself smile slightly underneath the plastic mask. And then immediately fought to remove it, wondering why it was there.

After giving a prolonged glare, 1337 moved the killer’s hands away to resume his search, completely unaware of what he had just caused. “.. Don’t really appreciate you spooking me like that. So if you could just. Not do that…”

Jason ended up repeating the same action only ten seconds later, but this time Guest didn't jolt away. Instead, he instinctively closed his fists like he would to prepare for a punch, significantly tightening his grip around Jason’s waist pockets.. and also his torso. Guest removed himself from Jason’s side right after, standing up and grunting out an annoyed response. 

“acK- Can you no-” The soldier was going to complain again, but quieted right after looking at the killer. His eyebrows raised at the sight.

Jason had brought his knees closer to his chest, and held the area around where Guest had been frisking him. Confusedly rubbing at the spot.

Ah.

By then, he had finally figured Jason’s pockets were empty, but another question– well, more of a rhetorical excuse– had made itself clear. This was quite the opportunity, one even 1337 knew not to pass up. He wasn't really a boastful person, but the other sentinels would definitely be jealous if he pulled something like this off without getting stabbed. Well.. most of them, anyway.

Looking off to the side for a second, Guest briefly smiled before dropping the look and facing Jason once more. He kneeled back down, reaching out his arms and leaning over a bit. “... Move, I’m not done.” It was a lie, and despite requesting it, he didn’t wait for Jason to move his hands before running his own around the killer’s waist. And this time, he kneaded into his sides a lot more intentionally so it would still have the desired effect despite the jacket. “You know, this is taking a lot longer than it needs to, since you seem so insistent on squirming away from me.”

Only then did Jason finally recognize what that feeling was. However, he was a step behind, just a little too late to stop the soldier before he started. 

The most of the noise in the killer’s response was the shifting sound of coarse fabric, because once he was aware the sentinel was no longer just searching him, he didn’t stop himself from writhing. While only evident from his shoulders, Jason was definitely laughing, and although practically silent, it occasionally caught in his mouth and turned into a quiet snicker. The sensation didn’t feel natural whatsoever, but somehow reminded him of something that was. Or used to be. At least this was different– better, than the last time he remembered being handled so roughly. Anyways, what was he even supposed to do? Fight back?

Jason tried. Emphasis on tried, because Guest just took one of his hands and pinned it to the ground.

The veteran couldn’t help but smile again, strategically squeezing around the other’s midriff with his free hand. Score. “I’m just searching your pockets. What, got something to hide?”

Jason shook his head as his other arm waved around. The ‘no’ gesture was to both discredit Guest’s claim and deny the question, but it didn’t really matter. One thing he had learned about the sentinels is that they were extremely stubborn, even in death.

“No? Hm.. not sure I believe that.” Guest thought for a second, searching for an excuse. “Oh! Maybe you've got something underneath the coat.” 1337 brought his hands back around to the killer’s front, dipping them into where Jason’s jacket was open and repeating the same kneading motion directly on his shirt, just a bit gentler. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that the only thing he was ‘searching for’ at this point was a reaction. Guest didn’t even consider that revenge was an option, but it honestly serves Jason right. Always using heavy attacks whenever he missed his block…

The masked killer froze up for a split second, before practically losing it. Not used to this, at all. He tilted his head back, but still no real noise came out. His breathing was a little more obvious though.

The sentinel chuckled, casually speaking as he unpredictably alternated between soft and rough prodding. “... Alright, let’s be ‘serious’. You are… a little ticklish, for a ruthless murderer.” He was interrupted as Jason unsuccessfully tried to throw him off. “And squirmy.” 1337 took Jason’s other hand, and without being able to use it to balance himself upright, the killer fell on his back. It made Guest let go, but the veteran just quietly sighed and adjusted forward a bit.

Jason’s chest heaved. “Hey, look at me.” Guest brought his hands near the killer’s stomach to catch Jason’s attention, who looked at his hands instead. He didn’t even try to push at the veteran, in ‘fear’ he would be pinned again. “Actually, that works even better.” 1337 suddenly poised his hands, making the other jump, and then did nothing.

“This is how I feel trying to predict your attacks, by the way.” Halfway through the sentence, the soldier resumed poking and scribbling somewhere around the killer’s lower stomach and hips. He wasn’t paying attention exactly where, his eyes too busy attempting to glimpse at Jason’s through the small eye holes in his mask.

Jason did not think it would get worse, to say the least. The survivor kept stopping at random intervals and faking him out, both annoying him and making him jump every time 1337 actually resumed. So the screeching and laughter he heard the other day in limbo wasn’t over exaggerated...

“Difficult, right?” To the sentinel’s surprise, Jason nodded on top of his wriggling. Guest’s smile widened– he was actually listening. This would be quite the story, and he was thankful it would be him telling it. Anyone else in the cabin wouldn’t have a chance to be believed for this type of thing.

But of course, good things don't typically last forever. 1337 was almost too focused on the moment to notice the glint of metal that suddenly appeared in his vision. He quickly withdrew his hands, and then moved back– the machete had reappeared, resting on the killer like a twisted invitation. Jason’s hand instinctively twitched, feeling the metal against him, and he sat up. Since Guest had stopped, he picked the weapon up even though his hands were a bit shaky.

And then he realized he didn’t actually want to do anything with it. His mind finally felt clear for once, and he didn’t feel like losing that, as temporary as it probably was. Unsure of what to do with the blade, he carefully turned it in his hand and handed it to the survivor on the handle side. 

That was single-handedly the most surprising thing that had happened to Guest ever since he got put into this realm. But while he still had the chance, he quickly snatched the blade. Jason regretted it halfway through the motion, because he realized he just handed a weapon to someone he’d been stabbing in rounds for months. Nothing bad happened though, and he tilted his head curiously as 1337 turned and stood up, walking to an entryway to one of the more open spaces.

“Thanks.” Guest said simply, before chucking the weapon. Whatever caused the blade to spawn back would probably be a little mad about that one. “Sooo.” He did a 180, walking back. Jason had gotten up during that time, but didn’t run away. He crumbled slightly just looking at the sentinel. Still intimidating.

“Let’s wrap this up, yeah? We’ve got about… three minutes, I think.” Advancing quicker than the killer was ready for, the soldier quickly found where he’d left off. Although, he didn’t do any more squeezing, just soft, erratic little scribbles wherever he felt like. Each twist Jason did in attempts to get away made him feel just a little bit better about getting slashed at so many times.

After another minute or two, he stopped. “Not even sure if you understand how much this matters, by the way.”

And even through the aftermath, Jason most certainly did understand. Unfortunately.

. . .

It took a while to coax an answer out of Jason, but the two who noticed the strange nature of his return got it eventually. Neither made fun of him.

“Hah. Really hope they don’t attempt something like that on me. Would not end well.” Doe remarked, before jokingly nudging 1x.

Thousand-yard stare.

[overbaked-tkls]

punches the wall multiple times (how do i write lee!jason💔)

[overbaked-tkls]

I guess I have to make a real fix to start off and see what my skill is… Forsaken is popular, right?

“Funny Creation…”

Warnings: SFW tickle fic… das it

Lee-1x1x1x1

Ler-Shedlestsky

Shedletsky just stood there, watching 1x tear off Chance’s head. It was usually Chance’s fault, always flipping his coin and gaining an ungodly amount of weakness right when the killer goes for him. Shedletsky had seen it enough times, and he usually ran in to slash at the killer before anything bad could happen. But this time, he wasn’t quick enough.

As soon as 1x finished decapitating Chance, he spun around to face Shedletsky, already starting to run towards him. Shedletsky, however, stayed motionless.

“Of course it’s you… it’s always you.” 1x spoke in his deep, thundering voice. By now, he reached Shedletsky, preparing his Entanglement to hopefully hit a Mass Infection afterwards.

At the very last second, Shedletsky ran out of the way and off to the side, instead running and charging into 1x full-on Guest style. The old admin landed on 1x with a thud, taking both of them to the ground. He quickly drew his sword and sliced to stun 1x before anything.

“Argh- What the hell-“ 1x grumbled as Shedletsky hit him with his sword, and surprisingly keeping his sword drawn.

“What could I have done,” Shedletsky started, talking down to his hateful creation. “What could I have done to possibly anger you, my OWN creation, to drive you to murder?”

1x snapped back quickly. “I am not one of your… creations. I am your HATRED, your ANGER!” I despise you for ‘creating’ me as such.” 1x tried shoving Shedletsky off him, only poking himself with the sword instead. His daemonshank and swords were knocked away when he fell, much to his annoyance.

Shedletsky’s expression softened ever so slightly. “Listen, 1x… I don’t want that for you. You may be a killer, but you’re just as much me as you are you. While I have no sympathy for killers, I can have sympathy for myself.”

1x’s expression was unreadable. He had stopped squirming and thrashing as Shedletsky finished. Perhaps the admin had gotten through to him? “… this is a trick… to get my guard down! You can’t reach me with that mushy BS. I will ALWAYS hate you!”

“No, 1x. This isn’t a trick.” Shedletsky’s hold on 1x firmed. He was clearly preparing something. 1x quieted again.

“I can’t fix you. But,” Shedletsky moved his grip closer to 1x’s transparent torso. “I can help you, in a way.”

No. No no NO. It was vague, but from his creator’s memories, 1x knew those actions. Suspiciously, 1x started squirming again.

“Absolutely NOT. NO WAY. DON’T EVEN THINK FOR A SECOND I WILL ALLOW THIS!” 1x thrashed and writhed, but Shedletsky’s hold on him was too strong. How was he being overpowered? By a survivor!? Maybe it was just nerves. And, as angry as he was, 1x also felt a tinge of… giddiness? This won’t hurt him in any way… he’s not used to it. Shedletsky should be stabbing him, not… this!

All too quickly Shedletsky gently pressed his hands into 1x’s gelatinous belly. He looked on at his hatred with disappointment as 1x held it in. “C’mon. I know you want to laugh. You’ll feel a lot better! And less murderous if you just leeeet it gooo~”

“Ne-… mhmhmh… no. Nehehver…” How DARE Shedletsky tease him? He was a fearsome and dangerous killer, not some child! He would not falter to this childplay…

Shedletsky moved up a notch by kneading into 1x’s stomach, which did to his delight offer some more giggles, but 1x had more to offer.

“Why not~? Can’t you just feel your hate and rage melting away by the second?” Shedletsky kept up the teasing. Which, thankfully, seemed to break 1x further.

“I- … ahaHAHAHAm nOHOhot-… a tohOHOy tOHOho be… plahahayed… wihihihith…” 1x could barely prevent his laughter spilling through. By now, 1x had accepted his fate, but he wasn’t willing to give into it. He was strong, he was brave, he was powerful, and GOD was the round timer SO SLOW.

“You’re only delaying the inevitable and you know it~” Shedletsky teased as his hands crept closer and closer to 1x’s ribs. “This is what you NEED, yeah? Don’t you feel better already~?”

1x noticed Shedletsky’s hands going for his ribs, which caused him to REALLY start panicking.

“NohOHOHO DOHOHOHn’t- dohohOHOn’t gohohoHO thEHEHere-!”

Shedletsky paused his tickling to look 1x in the eyes. He gave him a knowing look before shoving his fingers in between 1x’s ribs. And that finally got him to crack.

“Nooo-“ 1x let out a high pitch, very embarrassing squeal. That’s when he broke. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA- STOHOHAHAHAHAP-!”

Shedletsky kept going. He had thirty seconds anyways. “‘Stop?’ Why would I STOP? You look like you’re having fun for the first time!” Shedletsky gave 1x his usual shit-eating grin.

“I CAHAHAHAHAHA-! SH-SHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!” 1x had given up trying to escape at this point, fully giving in to the tickles. And, as much as 1x denied it… he enjoyed this. He enjoyed feeling…

Happy.

Of course, never in an undecillion years would he admit that to anyone at all, but he’d know.

There were 20 seconds left. Shedletsky suddenly got an idea. He stopped tickling momentarily to consider it, giving 1x time to get a breather.

“You… are… DEAD… next… round… I’m… in…” 1x huffed at Shedletsky, taking breaths between each word.

15 seconds left.

Shedletsky started to inhale, causing 1x to instantly tense up.

“NO-“

14.

“SHEDLETSKY.”

13.

“I SWEAR…”

12.

“IF YOU EVEN ATTEMPT THIS…”

11.

“I WILL KILL-“

10. Shedletsky blew a giant raspberry on 1x’s belly, resulting in 1x exploding.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-! NAHAHAHAHA-! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Finally, the timer ticked down to zero. 1x saw Shedletsky disappear with his stupid grin, waving at 1x as he was transported back to all the other killers. Still breathing heavily, he rubbed tears out of his eyes to find John staring at him with a smile.

“So… how’d it go-“

“Fuck off.”

Oooooooh wow. That was… idk. Baby’s first fanfiction. I feel like it was okay for a first attempt at all this. I’ll probably make some ShedLEEtsky sometime in the near future, but trust me he WILL be wrecked eventually. Maybe I’ll do some hcs in the meantime.

[overbaked-tkls]

good lord the 1x reqs. they are taking over my inbox

i have two fics for her already. i have to write the other people too lol /silly

i MIGHT make some doodles w/ her if its not enough

[overbaked-tkls]

Hey is there anyway you can possibly cook up a lee!chance and ler!Elliot fic?

thanks for the req! just to warn, there is a little mild in-round violence in this one also pre-forsaken chance participating in russian roulette is very briefly implied

(this is a sfw tickle fic! if you don't like it don't read it)

"... Are you being serious right now?"

words: 3,155 (they keep getting longer HHELP)

ler!elliot, lee!chance

summary: chance faces the 'consequences' of his riskiness, courtesy of elliot

--

After a rather difficult round, almost everyone who had survived got up from the table to get some rest during the intermission. Except for two, who stayed seated. One glared across the table with the intensity of a minimum wage employee, while the other sheepishly grinned back, eyes covered by their shades.

“... So you stopped running from Doe while you were one hit from death, last second… to shoot him? When you could have just kept running?”

“... It was a good idea in foresight.”

Elliot’s glare intensified. “No, no it wasn’t Chance. Not even a little bit.”

He tried another excuse. “Heheh, uh… It looked cool, though?”

“It looked like me having a heart attack, idiot. If I hadn’t had a pizza ready right then, you would have died.”

The sentinel shrugged, and the support facepalmed. “But we still won, didn’t we?” 

Elliot made desperate hand gestures, like it would get the message across any better. “You’re missing the point.”

“C’monn… Healing is your job, anyway.” The comment wasn’t meant as demeaning, but rather as a lame justification for a terrible decision.

Elliot’s mouth hung open. “Excuse me?” He laughed, incredulously. “Well, stunning the killer is your job. So why’d you miss?”

Chance laughed, waving a hand. “Pfft, ‘miss’. I didn’t miss, Elliot. My gun just didn’t go off.”

Elliot groaned, taking off his visor and throwing it at Chance as a makeshift projectile. “Same difference.”

They caught it. “Well- I don’t choose whether it does or not, y’know? It’s all up to Lady Luck.”

“And I don’t ‘choose’ to run around all day healing a gambler that puts their life in the hands of a coin flip.”

“Look, I’ll be more careful next time, I promise. Just for you, Ells.” Chance put the visor on top of his fedora. It looked stupid, but it was enough to get Elliot to look away and amusedly huff.

“You say that every time. How do I know you’ll actually honor it?”

Chance thought for a second before speaking. “I just will. Last round of the day is in twenty minutes, anyway.”

Elliot didn’t look convinced, unsurprisingly. 

“Do you really not trust me at all?” Chance flashed a confident smile, making the support roll his eyes.

“Whatever. Just… do better, Chance.”

“You got it!” 

. . .

Tails. Tails. Tails. Tails.

Chance tried to ignore the weakness that weighed his entire body down while fumbling with his coin. Of course he was down on his luck when someone actually needed assistance. More specifically, Elliot, who had gotten quite low on health. He subtly stalked the chase, peeking around the corners of Pirate Bay while avoiding the small patches of piranha-infested water. Which was… strangely murky to be a habitat for that type of fish.

Chance watched as the chase slowly turned desperate, Elliot pushing past his limit just to run a little longer from C00lkidd. There wasn’t any more time for waiting. Elliot did say to be careful, but… This had to be an exception, right? Even though it wasn’t ideal, he just needed one charge to fire his flintlock. And a prayer that it would work.

Tails… tails… Heads.

After getting a good angle to fire at, a sharp click pierced through the air, followed by a split second of silence. And then a very loud bang, that got both the killer’s attention and Elliot’s. 

The shot had backfired right in his face. Chance fell to the ground, trying to get his bearings through the searing pain. Unfortunate. It wouldn’t have been so critical if he didn't have the six weakness stacks, but he couldn’t even think about that as he heard approaching footsteps. Well, at least C00lkidd stopped chasing Elliot. The support must’ve slipped away.

It was quick. “Oh no! That looked like it hurt… You should take a break from playing for a bit.” The red child picked him up by the neck, giggling like it was merely a game of tag interrupted by someone calling a timeout. Chance kicked at him once, fruitlessly. “Hope you feel better soon!” C00l tilted his head and smiled, before snapping the sentinel’s neck.

Chance tensed as he opened his eyes, standing in the cabin. Fffuck. Not their best play, that’s for sure. It was okay, though. Just.. how it goes, sometimes. Seeing as there was nobody else in the cabin, he let his poker face fall. Must have been the first to die.

Without taking his shades off, he rubbed at his eyes– no matter how many times their gun blew up on them, they could never get used to the feeling. Even with the adjustment to how much damage it caused it was still painful, like being smacked in the face with hundreds of needles, all at once, and then being burned. Plus, whenever it happened and he somehow survived, he couldn’t feel anything above his chest for the rest of the round.

It hurt even more knowing his failure to stun the killer could be detrimental to some chases. Chance sighed. Poor Elliot…

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a jab into his lower back, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to startle him. It could’ve been anyone– the other survivors just ‘loved’ poking at him for his attention. But maybe that was his fault for zoning out while wearing headphones and shades. Throwing on his signature grin, he turned around. Speak of the devil. “O-oh.” Seeing who it was, Chance laughed nervously.

“... Heyyy Elliot.”

He was met with a deadpanned expression. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Okay, hear me ou–”

Elliot interrupted him, getting straight to the point. “Did you, or did you not promise you would be careful?”

“Well I had to do something! You were practically on your last breath.”

“Dude, I was doomed either way! It would have been better if you had saved yourself instead of adding another kill to the list.”

Huh. Yeah, maybe it would have been better. Oh well. “Okay fine, I admit I wasn’t thinking clearly. I apologize. Now lay off, will ya?” That was the last round of the day, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being in the sentinel mindset anymore. Gave him the slack to be at his normal seriousness; none.

“L– wh– LAY OFF?”

Chance chuckled, walking away from the other to get a little space before pulling out a coin. It wasn’t the same one he got in the rounds, but practically identical. Worked as a good fidget, when things got too noisy. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

Elliot let the gambler walk away, but still scolded him. “Do you ever think about what the consequences of your actions are?”

Chance did. A lot. Just… almost never in the moment. Only in regret afterwards. 

He readjusted his fedora with one hand, flipping the coin in the other as he spoke. “Hmm… Nope! We all just respawn, anyway. Why trouble myself by overthinking if I can get away with everything most of the time?”

Honestly, Elliot didn’t know what he expected. He didn’t know enough about Chance’s backstory to understand why they were so careless all the time, but being around them was enough to get a slice of how little they thought before doing. Maybe he wasn’t worth arguing with– some things you just can’t change. “... Figured.” Elliot took a few steps closer, curiously. “Did you think like that before…” The support gestured vaguely around the cabin, despite Chance not being able to see it. “All this?”

The sentinel suddenly became quiet, keeping his back turned to hide any possible hint he was less than fully confident. Deep down, he knew that being so risky was what got him here in the first place– if he hadn’t been so desperate for thrill, none of this would have happened to him. Maybe it was all a reasonable punishment.

“Yes, but. I’d say it’s more of a lifestyle than a thought process. I mean… Obviously, I didn’t play with my literal life back home, like I do here. That would be, heh. Insane.” Chance hated how even that was a lie. Metal, pressed against the side of his head. The sound of a blank. Sliding it across the table. He quickly shook his head out of that thought. Not right now, focus on the coin. “But I like takin’ risks, y’know? Where’s the thrill in knowing the outcome?”

Elliot became a little worried from the response, even with how predictable it was. “... So essentially, you don’t care what happens to yourself in the slightest?”

“Not enough.” They said it boldly, only faltering when they realized how concerning that sounded. “–In the sense that the effects are minimal when something does happen, of course. Not that I don’t care about myself at all.” He quickly added on.

“Plus, I’m just too lucky for misfortune, what can I say?”

“... Sureeeee…” That last remark would have made Elliot laugh if it wasn’t so stupid. “Strange, coming from the person who died from their gun blowing up on them around ten minutes ago.”

“Well, I guess you should’ve healed me before running away.” Chance commented, cheekily. He didn’t mean it at all, knowing Elliot’s circumstances during the round, but it was still funny. To him, at least.

Damn, this guy was impossible. Elliot muttered a weak expletive. Instead of pointing out the obvious counterargument to the comment, he went directly behind Chance to jab him in the back again since it always seemed to bother him. The audible shift in posture Elliot heard as he walked away was enough, anyway. 

Though, he whipped his head around again as the sound of a coin clinking against the floor caught his attention. Evidently, Chance had dropped it. Despite the support causing the inconvenience, the gambler only softly grumbled without any actual worded response, quickly kneeling down to pick up the object. As Elliot watched him pick it up, he couldn’t help but think how strange it was. With so much practice catching his coin while running and the likes, Chance shouldn’t have dropped it. Was he that easily startled, or..? 

Elliot backpedaled a bit, curiously repeating the action while the other was kneeling, except slightly dragging his thumbs down Chance’s back before removing his hands.

Not only did the coin fall to the floor again as it fumbled out of Chance’s twitchy hands, but the sentinel noticeably flinched, his entire figure tensing. Reluctantly, Chance left the coin on the ground as he stood up to face the person behind him. “Elliot?”

After a second of staring at Chance, the support smiled, crossing his arms as he mimicked the other. “Chance?”

Chance scoffed, putting a hand on his hip. “Was that necessary?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Just don’t think I’ve ever seen you drop that coin before– wondering why you did just now.”

Chance’s expression froze, although still in his natural poker face. So he wasn’t just messing with him for no reason. Now he had to talk himself out of this. Or not, he was too glad Elliot had moved on from the concern to care. “I’m uh. Not as focused outside of rounds.” In his defense, it was half true. But not the main reason.

Elliot’s eyes narrowed in playful skepticism. Finally, something to go off of. “Focused enough to catch it every other time I’ve seen you fidgeting with it here, though.”

Chance yawned, like he wasn’t actively failing to fight how the conversation progressed. “Well, I can’t say you poking me isn’t distracting at all.”

“Why?” The visor-equipped survivor already knew he hadn’t dug his fingers in hard enough to hurt, so it was definitely something else. And he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what. 

“... Elliot.” He was not about to answer that question.

Luckily for the gambler, Elliot would answer it for him. How generous. “Heh. Is it because your back’s ticklish, Chance?”

“Uhhh…” 

Huh. They didn’t exactly anticipate being called out like that. He wasn’t nervous enough to stutter, but also not confident enough to come up with a proper response. “Whaaaat? Nooo…” So much for being suave. He blew it, completely. 

It was surprising to Elliot– the other sentinels had tried tickling them before, only for little to no response. Well, other than an amused smirk, followed by Chance reciprocating with a LOT more success. Though it honestly made sense that only his back was sensitive. Chance’s entire front was probably octuple-fried by now from all those explosions, even with the magic patch-ups after every round. 

Of course, the gambler wasn’t just going to turn around for him, so after taking a second to study Chance's body expression to make sure he wasn’t uncomfortable, the support took a step forward and wrapped his arms around the other.

To say the least, it wasn’t exactly what Chance expected. Well, he didn’t expect any of this. Not to die so soon into a round, not to get questioned about his lifestyle, and not whatever this conversation led to. But that’s part of the thrill, he supposed– again, how would anything be fun if he already knew the outcome? Still, about two seconds after Elliot embraced him in what a normal context would be a hug, he suddenly found himself trying to squirm his way out of it. 

“Elliot plehease–” He protested, shifting slightly in the other’s arms. To an extent, Chance was kind of stuck– Elliot was being gentle enough that it would have been rude if they shoved him off, but also holding them in place enough that they couldn’t just step out. And he couldn’t decide whether he actually wanted this to stop or was just unused to this.

The support hummed, slowly running a hand down the middle of their back. “Huh?”

“Dohohon’t.”

Elliot snickered. “Please don’t what?”

Chance scoffed, but it turned into a wheezy laugh. “Not falling for thahat.” He instinctively tried removing Elliot’s hands with his own, but the positioning was too awkward. His arms undecidedly switched between being pressed a bit behind his sides and being slightly raised in front of him. If he had been thinking straight, he could have just gotten Elliot back, but. He wasn’t exactly used to being on the receiving end.

“Darn.” The pizza deliverer faked disappointment, tracing out a path underneath the sentinel’s shoulder blades. “Well, if you’re not finishing the request, I guess that means I can continue.”

“Nononohoho–” Chance objected again, his shoulders raising as he felt Elliot’s fingers glide downwards. Maybe having to endure frigid round weather wasn't the only downside of having such a suit with such thin fabric– this was a little embarrassing.

“Didn’t you say, like. Seven minutes ago, that you don’t care enough about what happens to you?”

“I wahas tahalking abouhout the rohounds!”

“This is about the rounds.” Elliot sighed, annoyed.

“Whahat?”

Did he forget? “Pfft- obviously I’m still mad at you for what happened, asshole!” Elliot slightly tightened his grip on the other, and slipped his fingers underneath where Chance had his arms pressed against the sides of his back. He didn’t do anything at first, just to make sure Chance wouldn’t writhe away from him, but then he started raking them up and down and occasionally alternating which side he did it on. 

“It’s just that now, you’ve given me an opportunity to get you back for it. Kind of you, by the w–”

Chance practically barked out a few laughs, before covering his mouth and pressing his face into Elliot’s shoulder. He grabbed the support’s other shoulder, pushing a bit before stopping himself.

Elliot tilted his head to the side a bit to accommodate the movement, chuckling a little. “You realize that does absolutely nothing, right? You’re laughing, like, directly into my ear. Quite loud, by the way.” 

Mistaking the remark for a genuine complaint, Chance turned his head slightly away from Elliot’s in response.

Elliot noticed the attempt, glancing at the gambler in his peripheral vision as he continued to lightly scribble around. “Oh, I don’t mind. I was just saying.” 

The sentinel let his arms fall from his mouth and the support’s shoulder respectively, leaning over so he was almost falling in the support’s hold. “EllihiOT IhIM soHoRRY–”

That was… a little hard to believe, for obvious reasons. “Areee you now? Or are you just saying that to get out of this?” Noticing how Chance seemed to stop pushing at him and pulling away, Elliot figured he could probably use both hands. Though, he held off from it temporarily.

Seeing as they only responded with breathy, loud chuckles, the support assumed he was right, and the sentinel wasn’t going to admit it. “Yeah, that’s what I th–”

“BOHOTH” … Spoke too soon.

Elliot stuttered in disbelief, both at the nature of the response and what he said. “D- Did you just interrupt me? Again?” He brought both his hands to do what seemed most effective before, gently but quickly dragging his fingertips right against where Chance’s back met his sides.

Chance hiccuped in between helpless fits of loud cackles, keeping his face pressed into the support's shoulder. The bit of hair in front of his face would probably be messed up after this. “I wAHAS JuHUST ANSWEHERING ThEHE QUEHESTION!”

Elliot tsked, slightly increasing his pace every time the other spoke. “Exactly, you weren’t supposed to.”

“UNFAHAIR.”

“Uh, no. Watching you die earlier was unfair.” Elliot paused his hands in between sentences, just to hear Chance’s voice rise and fall in volume.

“CaHAN’T wehe coMPROHOMIHISE?”

Ah, yes. Compromise, like that had gotten either of them anywhere. “Yeah, the compromise was that you would be careful.”

“OkAHAY! I sWEHEAR NEHEXT TIME IHILL DO BEHETTER–”

“... Somehow, I doubt that.”

Elliot’s hands stopped again as he felt Chance clutching his work uniform. Was he… hugging him back? Ehh, maybe he was just fidgety. Who knows.

He resumed, continuing to try and find any place Chance’s gun had spared the nerves of, until the sound of chatter from the next room spilled into the main one. The round had ended, and it was honestly surprising that nobody else had died other than them. Maybe it was just good fortune.

“Heheh, lucky you.” Elliot stopped, quickly rubbing Chance’s back a little before gently pushing him away. As soon as he did, Chance quickly leaned over himself and quieted as best he could, putting his hands on his knees. 

Eventually, some of the survivors walked into the main room, a few of them giving concerned glances over but nothing more. 1337 walked over.

“Is Chance alright?” The question was directed to Elliot, even though Chance ended up answering it.

“Ahall good, soldier! Just a… little tired from the round.”

Elliot and Guest both gave him a look (although of different sentiments), but neither said anything.

“Played too risky.” Chance added, smiling as he picked up his coin off the floor.