#oh also ballad- i said it in the tags already when i reblogged it on main but thank you for fem geo 🙇 especially the angry one 🥰 i owe you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wordynerdygurl · 4 years

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A Wonderful Christmastime

Author’s Note: Well Hello All! I hope that you’re all taking care of yourselves and staying well! My tag-list is open and you know I love the validation of reblogs, shares, tags and adds!! I have been working on a larger OC story which has kept my from my Loki writings, but I entered a challenge posted by @toomanystoriessolittletime for the Christmas holiday. If you aren’t following, please do as she’s got a great little Advent Calendar of seasonal stories for you! One a day through the month of December!

I chose a prompt based off of my least favorite Christmas song. Ever. Like in the history of humanity. Like, my family torture me with it because of how much I dislike it. This story is a chance to take a little lighthearted revenge on Sir Paul McCartney and also, hopefully, help you all enjoy a Wonderful Christmastime! Also, isn’t this gif the cutest thing in the world? My thanks to the OP and creator for it... it’s amazing and I love Christmas Loki!! Pairing: Female Reader x Loki

Summary: Everyone has a favorite holiday song... when Loki learns which one you dislike, he uses it to his advantage. Warnings: Christmas holiday mentions, SMUT, Oral (F receiving) and MF Sex, also, the over use of a certain song that makes me, personally, crazy!

This was it. That perfect moment when all of the holiday hustle was behind you. Nothing to buy, nothing to ship, nothing to wrap, nothing to bake. It was all over. You had made it through another Christmas Eve.

Your well decorated tree sat in the corner, presents tucked below for you and Loki in the morning. The frittata was resting in the fridge along with the two bottles of Prosecco you planned to have with brunch. Hell, it was the holidays, after all.

But that was for tomorrow.

Tonight you were relaxing after an afternoon of family Christmas fun. Nieces and nephews, piles of shredded paper, stacks of snacks and so much laughter your belly muscles were sore. And through it all Loki had been a champ! Holding your hand, rubbing the small of your back, pulling out your chair; Loki had put the other partners to shame. Whether he was telling bawdy but tasteful jokes to the men who drank cheap beer around the TV, sharing hair care tips with your sister’s oldest girl or whispering with your mom in the kitchen, he was always where he needed to be. For the first time in ages, you had been able to enjoy the day fully, and you knew Loki was the reason why. After getting home, trading your dress and boots for comfy shorts and a sweatshirt, you padded into the living room. Loki was there, sitting cross legged, digging through your bag of swag. He had put seasonal music on in the background while munching through a plate of Auntie’s sugar cookies, two well poured goblets of red wine waiting to be had at his side. God, he was good. “Is one of those for me?” You couldn’t help smiling. Loki, looking like a little kid, over excited and surrounded by all the trapping of Christmas just felt so precious. It took him a moment to reply as he was solely focused on the handmade puzzle box your mother had crafted for all the guys this year, “Hmm? Yes… one’s for you…” Kissing the top of his head, careful not to dislodge his Rudolf blinking antler headband, a gift to Loki from your youngest nephew, you moved towards the couch. Sipping from your glass of wine, snuggled under the softest chenille blanket your sister-in-law could find, you sighed contentedly. Victory over the holiday season felt amazing. Now all that was left on your to-do list was eating, drinking, and enjoying alone time with Loki until New Year’s. Suddenly exhausted, you felt the lovely warm drag of drowsiness and snuggled deeper into the sofa. Shuttering your tired eyes, you listened as Loki stood up, off to hunt up some more food, no doubt. Visions of sugarplums danced in your head as you started to succumb to a sweet slumber. That’s when you heard it.

“The moon is right, The spirit’s up, We’re here tonight and that’s enough…” Groaning, wide awake now, you sat up with a shout, “Loki?!” Like magic his raven head popped around the doorframe, his reindeer antlers askew, a candy cane hanging out of his mouth, “Yes?”

“Um… question: What are we listening to?” Stepping back into the living room, his new holiday flannel shirt open at the neck, Loki leaned over you, husking playfully, “Music. At least, that’s what I believe you Midgardians call it.” “Ha ha. Yes, I know it’s music, but this particular song?” You couldn’t keep the tartness from your tone as you pressed your nose into the handsome one on Loki’s face. Pausing, listening intently, Loki cocked his head to the side. Singing along, his bells jingling, “Simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!” “Ugh. That’s what I was afraid of!” Flinging a hand over your eyes, you grumbled, burrowing back into the cozy couch as a means of blocking out the obnoxious noise of the worst holiday song in the history of humanity. Making himself comfortable at your feet, pouring himself another glass of vino, “I like it. It’s simple. Direct. What are you doing? Me? I’m simply having a wonderful Christmastime!” From deep in the cushions, muffled but forceful, you pleaded, “Make it stop! Please!” “What for? It is still Christmastime, is it not? And we are enjoying a wonderful time, aren’t we?” Turning back to face him, a Scrooge-like scowl on your suddenly serious face, “I’ll do anything to get you to turn that off.” That got his attention, “Anything?” Sitting up quickly, you reached for your blanket only to feel Loki snatching it out of your grasp, “You said anything, darling.” Tugging on the plush fabric, practically pouting, “You’re not going to take my new fluffy blankie, are you?” “Oh no. That’s not nearly enough to stop me from playing my favorite Christmas carol.”

“It’s your favorite, now? Loki, you just heard it.” Waving your gripes away, pinning you under his arms and under your blanket, “I love it. It’s my favorite. You can’t mess with perfection.”

You wiggled, trying to free an arm or a hand, anything to help defend yourself from Loki’s soft, but effective attack, "Perfection? Loki, it's awful."

"I disagree. But…” Brushing a gentle kiss to your captive lips, making you melt into his warm touch, Loki made sure to keep you immobile. Unraveling under his ardent attention, you gave up fighting, focusing on Loki’s roving hands through the protective layer of your new throw.

Lost in his lips, you ignored the wretched recording still spinning, until sitting back with a sly smile Loki continued, “Regardless of my newly acquired antlers, I am a reasonable man. I'm willing to hear your side of things. Convince me, dove."

Looking up at him through your lashes, licking over your bottom lip that tasted of Loki's peppermint, it took you a moment to refocus on your argument. Sighing doggedly, “It’s just garbage. Too sweet, too synth-pop. It’s plastic. There’s no substance to it.”

At least Loki did you the service of considering your answer. He paused, listening to the offending tune, starting to hum along once more. “I don’t know. It sounds like church bells ringing. And I like when the kids start singing!”

“You couldn't. Those are two of the worst things about it! There’s not a single redeemable factor in it’s trite, super saccharine, four minute run time.” Agitated now and edging into anger, your voice kept rising, spurned on by the inability to get away from Loki’s plush prison, “Also, get off me!” “Can’t do it. But-” nuzzling into your neck, tasting along the tendon there, “-I can replay this song.” “That’s it!” Fury tinted your words as you tried harder than ever to break free of your fleece prison but Loki was brick heavy, unmovable, and impossibly giddy at your predicament. All things which only added fuel to your fire. Wriggling like mad, struggling to kick a foot free, you squirmed desperately for leverage. His response? A deep chuckle, “Is that all you’ve got, darling?” Laying those long, lanky bones on top of you, holding down the throw’s corners in a way that made fighting futile, Loki smirked at your distress, “I still don’t see why you hate it so much. It is a simple song because we’re simply having a wonderful Christmastime! It’s in the title after all.” With cheeks hot from exertion, fully frustrated and forced to listen to Paul McCartney’s bland holiday ballad start a second time, you nearly shrieked, "I hate it, Loki! Loathe it, really! The lyrics are basic, the keyboard is tinny, and Sir Paul is better than that!” “Is that all?” “No! It's even worse when someone else sings it, like those kids from Glee or an up and coming Country artist making their first holiday record!"

Beneath the blanket your chest rose and fell with bothered breaths. From rubbing against the couch your hair stuck up in odd angles and you could feel heat rising off your neck. How had you gone from almost asleep to a blanket related battle royale? Loki, taking advantage of your confinement, kissed your forehead sweetly, and the change in tactic caught you off guard. His lips grazed the tip of your nose as you huffed out a pout, eager to see where his mischief making would lead. Pressing his forehead to yours, that deep sonorous voice whispering lowly for your ears alone, "Not a compelling enough argument for me to turn it off, I'm afraid." And to your holiday horror the song in question started again. Grousing, "Don’t play it again! Please! I’m begging you!” “Already begging darling?” Thick with mocking, Loki slotted himself between your thighs, keeping you from fighting back with any power. Whining full out now, poking out your bottom lip, “Come on! Please, let me up and turn this off!” “Why, of course, my pearl.” With no effort on his part, Loki scooped you up, blankie and all, pulling you tightly to his chest. Gripping your bottom, his fingers firm through the cotton of your pj pants, he squeezed hard enough for you to yelp. “Hey!” But that’s all you managed before his talented tongue invaded your mouth. Now the only thing you could hear was the shaky exhale of your shared sighs and your own needy mewls when Loki started to withdraw.

Godly hands drew your thick and comfy sweatshirt over your head, leaving you bare against the cuddly softness of your new blanket, a perfect dichotomy to the heated hardness of Loki’s chest. With your arms finally free you tangled your hands in the long tresses of your lover, distracted from the awful music by his groan, “Easy darling.” But now that the tables were tipped in your favor, you had no intention of going easy on Loki. Not after his antics tonight, not a chance. Tugging hard enough for him to wince, you ground against his lap with a nip to his neck, “Turn it off then.”

“Now, why would I do that? Aren’t we still enjoying a Wonderful Christmastime?” Bouncing in his lap, purposefully teasing your mischief maker with a smirk, “We were until you let this terrible song play!” Laughing heartily, Loki stroked over your bare shoulder, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. “If I wanted to, my darling, I could change your mind. I could make you adore this song.” “Is that so, Odinson? I doubt it.”

“Doubt me? On this, Christmas Eve! When you know the feelin’s here that only comes once a year?” A confident nod was all he got for an answer. In a flash you were laying on the soft rug, your legs wrapped over Loki’s and your new blanket tossed to the side. Fiery kisses to your chest and neck led him to the shell of your ear where he hummed hungrily, “The moon is right, the spirits up…” Enjoying his mouth but not his music, you shoved against his shoulders, panting, “Don’t sing, just kiss me.” Licking into your mouth, Loki’s tongue obliged your need as his hands skated over the curve of your hip, breaking your kiss to croon, “We’re here tonight, dove… and that’s enough.”

“Loki… please stop…” You fisted his shirt, pulling at the buttons until his muscular torso was under your fingers, strong and solid. Pushing the plaid cotton off his shoulders, you let your nails drag over Loki’s naked back as you shifted your hips, subtlety be damned. He took the hint. Nipping a trail over your tummy, Loki kept his eyes on yours as he shucked your shorts, snorting, “No panties? Naughty!” “If that’s naughty, Loki, then what you’re doing to me is positively evil.” That made your lover grin, his eyebrows lifting in a wickedly Grinchy smile before caressing the inner skin of your thigh with his clever mouth. Slithering closer to your center, sweeping his tongue in swirls, you couldn’t help the excited shiver he created. It was enough to block out the terrible song now that you had something more arousing to hold your attention. Using those long, deft fingers, Loki parted your folds with a murmured moan, “You’re so wet, darling. Maybe you like this song more than you let on?” A curse for him and his rotten taste in Christmas music died in your throat as Loki connected to your sacred skin through a carnal kiss. Those strong forearms ensured that your knees stayed open wide as his tongue tasted, teasing your clenching cleft, humming with appreciation at your body’s response. Circling your clit, sucking gently before changing direction and licking your lower lips once more, Loki had you teetering on the cliff of climax in minutes.

Your stomach tensed, ready for release. Delicious waves of orgasmic bliss were pulsing through you, needing just a touch more friction, a little more pressure in order to crash over you. Gasping out incoherent whimpers, fingers ruffling Loki’s dark hair, you can’t fight the neediness that he’s created in you. It just feels so incredible, something Loki knows you’re enjoying, “Like that, darling?” Passion clouds your vision as your desire crests, unfulfilled, “You know I do, Loki…” Fingers slide sensually through your slit, his bright eyes on you, “How much? How much do you like it?” Shaking your head, still foggy with needs unmet, “So much, baby. I love making love to you so much.” Bumping against your swollen bud, pressing down firmly, Loki begins using his hands to entice you towards ecstasy. Two fingers enter you easily, delightful, sure, but not as filling as Loki’s hard member. Reaching for him, you want to lose yourself in loving and being loved by your space god, “Sing for me, dove.” Beseeching you breathlessly, Loki’s hand stills, keeping you at the fringe of falling apart. Waiting for your reply impatiently he asks again, “Sing, please.” “A song?” His reply is a shake of his dark head. Slowly, smoothly, Loki withdraws his fingers, only to press them into your yielding flesh once more, “Yes, my darling. Sing my favorite song!”

Sucking a bruise onto your inner thigh, those fingers of his spreading your walls, the exquisite pressure on your straining clitoris. Any one of these distractions would have been hard to concentrate through. Experiencing them all together? Overwhelming.

And that’s the excuse you would use to explain what happened next. “The party’s on… The feeling’s here…” As soon as the words left your lips, Loki’s attention resumed in earnest, “That’s it, dove! Keep going!” “That only comes, this time of year… Ah! Loki!” Loki watched you lustily. Your eyes half closed, legs splayed lewdly, a nervous grin on your face. He never wanted you more. Slipping out of his jeans, wasting no time, Loki guided his hardened cock into you with a satisfying sigh. Your response to his abundance? “Oh shit, Loki! Yes!” Snapping his hips against your pelvis, iron banded arms clinging to you, Loki stuttered, “I don’t hear you singing!” “We’re simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!” How many times did you repeat the chorus? Hard to say. It became a mantra. A thing to chant in time with everyone of Loki’s deliberate and deep thrusts. This time, when you felt the familiar stirring of your satisfaction, Loki didn’t stop you. Encouraging you with a soulful kiss, his stroke surging in time with Paul McCartney’s crooning, you came apart in each other’s arms with a smile. The song started again and you couldn’t stop the giggles from bursting out of you, “What’s so funny, dove?” “You said you could make me like this terrible, horrible, awful song.” Sitting up and taking you with him, Loki chuckled as he kissed your hand, “Hey, don’t make fun of the best holiday song I have ever heard.” Pulling your new blanket around the both of you, “I still hate it, but-”

“But?”, his eyebrow arched in surprise, waiting for you to continue.

“But I don’t hate it as much.” Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, playfully ribbing you, “Do I have to force you into having another Wonderful Christmastime?” Biting your bottom lip, you returned the favor by sweeping a stray lock of Loki’s black hair over his shoulder, “Babe, you could make crazy, insane love to me each day and every night… and-” “And?” Kissing Loki lightly on the nose, you stood up on shaky legs and started towards the hallway. At the entry way you turned back letting the blanket fall to the floor, “-And Wonderful Christmastime would still suck.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To My Many Minxes: @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith

#stephschristmaswritingchallenge #loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #loki holiday #loki christmas #loki christmas smut #marvel smut #marvel holiday #marvel holiday smut

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years

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Tickle me, princey

Kanene’s note: This fic is basically: Virgil is a bratty Lee, Roman is a competitive Ler and none of them are going down without a fight xDD.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Lee!Virgil and Ler!Roman (Kind of. Because there is almost no tickles here, just teasing). Human AU.

* Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* This have about 2.500 words of Roman and Virgil just being teasy beans. ‘w’)b.

* PLEASE CHECK THIS AMAZING ART! IT’S INCREDIBLEE! <33

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! I didn’t proofread that one very well, so I will probably be correcting a few things later. Any advice is always very, very welcome!

* A versão em português brasileiro irá ser escrita, ainda. Eu espero! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Do something crazy today, take a good rest, be kind (especially with yourself) and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Roman cleaned his hands on his jeans before stretching his back and sighing in relief when a small ‘pop’ came from it. The pal from the nearby library was a cool person – not that he would ever allow the other to hear this, because, damn, people who called Roman cocky definitely haven’t met them yet – but equally precise in get on his nerves with as few words as possible, even though the florist didn’t care that much as his dramatics discourses tried to convince everyone he did.

Besides that, they was Patton’s friend and even more important, they made an accord with the Flower Shop’s owner and Roman was the one in charge to deliver their biweekly floral arrangement to the library’s decór. However, today Roman managed to win their discussion and therefore a couple of podcast episodes read by them (What? Their voice was quite nice!!).

Roman ignored the small ring of the door’s bell as he entered the Flower Shop, looking around to be sure there was no clients before taking his position behind the balcony, internally thanking how chill Patton was with his employees using phone during the shift as long there wasn’t no one near, especially as he unlocked his screen and a new notification popped in front of him.

Butterflies went immediately crazy on his stomach.

[Message from Panic! At Everywhere]

[P: Hey. So, are you still ok?]

Virgil kicked his blanket out of his bed, already feeling a tad of giddiness spread across his body, a small smirk finding its way to his face without him even realizing. Today was the day. Since when he and Roman talked on the last week about boundaries to be sure nothing had changed and decided Saturday as a good day for their session the one with purple hair couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander, picturing and re-picturing what would happen, even though Roman always insisted to never tell him his plans, wanting to keep everything as a surprise, which definitely didn’t help at all the excitement running on his veins.

Their session.

Their tickle session. It was only eleven in the morning and Virgil could already feel his skin tingle just by imagine Roman’s fingers grazing, dancing on it, carefully looking for all his weak spots both knew so well before coming with an entire new technique that would make the other (almost, barely, hardly) want to jump out of his skin so he could escape from the maddening tickly sensation.

He was going to love it.

Also, it didn’t help that he spent the previous night and its following morning consuming all his favorite tickle content, dying on the spot (and on the reblogs) and skyrocketing his lee mood to the mountains.

Nevertheless, he tried to play nonchalant as answered the other’s new message.

[Message from Dumb(o)]

[D: Yes.]

[P: Cool.]

[D: You?]

[P: Yep.]

[D: Glad to know, Blushy Bug. Try to not alarm all of our neighborhood with your squeals and giggles before I get there, okay? ~

D: And yeah, plu-e-ase, continue with your so delightful tags on your reblogs, okay, Tickle me Emo? I’m learning so much new information with that. If only I would have an opportunity to use all of them today…]

Virgil snorted, one hand trying to hide his face as he attempted with all his might to ignore the flames taking over his cheeks as the teases sank and the memories from the day he conquered this nickname emerged from the deeps of his mind. So, Princey was already so over his head with being the ler this time? Thinking Virgil would be hiding his face on the pillow, squeaking and tittering helpless? Well, he would have a big storm coming, then.

Virgil got up, his footsteps leading him to the clean desk in the room, moving some of the objects so carefully chosen in order to get the perfect picture. Every single makeup brush lined, gleaming under the lens of his camera, away enough so the viewer would be able to realize all their individualities but close enough to create an impact.

Two can play this game.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent an image]

Roman clicked on it, eyes going immediately wide as he quickly slammed the cellphone’s screen on his red apron, his gaze running from a place to another to be sure no one was near or had seen the conversation or noticed the way his smile went from an ear to another.

[P: Nah. I’m too occupied choosing the perfect tools for today… I mean, there are just so many options, ya know? I especially prefer the smallest ones, their bristles softly running on my ribs, tracing their way across my tummy to get to the other side… yeah. That is the good stuff. Or maybe we could be experimenting the biggest ones today, letting them tease that spot right under my chin, the softness engulfing all the nerves… ]

Roman took a deep breath, realizing the other still typing.

[P: Anyway, don’t make a big deal of this, ‘kay? I know your imagination can be very fertile but try to not alert Patton with all your blush and twitching. You know he is a curious guy and will want to know why you’re so smiley. ;)]

“Pai amado, (Dear God) he is going to kill me.” Roman crossed his arms, using all his will to no start wiggling them to nothing, a sudden urge to sing some nursery rhymes making him begin to humming quietly as attempted to gather enough concentration to type a proper, cool reply.

[D: Is that so? So, the big, badass Virgil Storm is excited to get all his tickly-tickle-tickles today? Is he excited to become a so helpless, so adorable mess of giggles and squeaks? To be teased and tickled until he can do nothing but give me those lovely snorts and wiggly-wiggles? ~

Awww. So cute. ~]

[P: Yeah, I am. So what? Wanna do something about that, Sir Sing a Lot?

Ops, I forgot you’re at work rn. Tsc. Such a pity. Well, guess I will have to kill some time by looking at your precious collection of feathers, see if I find something interesting there.]

[D: You just wait for when I get home.]

[P: :)]

Virgil laid his phone at his side, hiding his face on the mattress, kicking just like he was some teenager in love from those generic movies. The squeals bubbled out from his lips, smiles blooming. He knew he probably was just digging his own grave, but, ha, as if he would fall without a fight. Plus, imagining Roman trying at every cost to keep a straight expression while reading his texts and then struggling to continue his work just as if nothing had happened, with that cute, excited smile planted on his face made a proud wave of power – and joy - hit him and that was a bonus which was worth it.

Then his phone vibrated, indicating a new notification and a new flood of shivers as he unlocked his screen, freezing for a couple of heartbeats with the length of the message.

[D: A poem for my dear Knightmare. ~

Once upon a time

There was a wiggley-wiggly lee

That just a few pokes

Made him giggle with glee

Some scribbles here

Some scratches there

You can tickle-tickle

He is ticklish everywhere!

What, you don’t believe me?

‘That much cute he can’t be!’

Well, then allow me to demonstrate

All the beautiful sounds he can create!

Give a few prodding on his ribs

And a quick digging on his hips

Some brushes on his toesies and feet

And don’t forget about these helpless pits!

(And hey, psst, if you squeeze his sides

The cutie, squeaky, wiggly lee,

Will be squealing in a happy delight)

This neck is also asking for tickly-kisses

He always denies, always desire

Add to that some teasy whispers

And watch his cheeks be set on fire!

Once upon a time

There was a bratty, smug lee

That just a few tickle teases

Can make him a blushy mess

Just like now, you see!]

[…]

“Have a nice day. Thank you for coming!”

Roman waved to the client who got out from the Flower Shop, taming the smugness which threatened to take over his features as he realized that even though an hour had passed, no answer to his last text had arrived yet. He was perfectly aware of how weak Virgil was for any sort of rhymed tease and a whole poem – not his best, he had to admit – dedicated to him? He could almost see the other shrieking, hiding his red face on the pillow, lost in a mess of quiet peals of laughter and curses. His smile got even bigger, swelled in pride. And, well, if he couldn’t help it but push his luck a few inches further, his fingers already halfway to typing a small, itsy bitsy, new tease to his favorite emo lee, how could someone really blame him?

[D: Oh, sorry. Did I make the scary Virgil too much flustered to talk? Awww, I will miss your sassy remarks deeply and sing a ballad in your honor at the funeral. ~]

He snorted at the amount of time the symbol of ‘typing’ appeared and disappeared on the conversation, using the ten minutes he took to be answered to organize a few sales signs on the glass in front of the store, gaining a dance on his step as the one-worded sentence shone on his phone.

[P: Bitch.]

[D: I have no idea of what you’re talking about. Is that something I said? I feel wounded.]

But a new thing popped up.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent a video]

[P: :)]

It seemed like hours passed, even if he knew the downloading probably didn’t really take more than a few pieces of minute for him to hit the play.

The focus of the camera took a few seconds to adjust, the image trembling and shaking before going still, the crystal clear form of a small light brown, slightly spiked feather twirling between Virgil’s index and thumb locking his eyes on the screen. A quick, quiet sigh could be heard before the tickle tool descended to the palm extended on a desk, stopping by Virgil’s pulse.

The bristles grazed the skin there as the feather began to move on slow strokes, going from the left to the right, left and right, left and right… calmly making its way up, changing to small swirls as it contorted the form of the hand, giving to each finger a light tracing before concentrating on the palm, drawing a spiral which approximated inch by inch to the center. If Roman wasn’t so quiet, - even holding his breath, - maybe he wouldn’t be able to listen the incredibly low, contained huffs of laughter on the background, a soft snort escaping and making both hands tremble as the bristles hit the center of his hand, dancing around the spot for a bit.

When it stopped, the tool was placed on the desk and then the camera started to move, stopping on Roman’s so very well-known golden with silver details box. Its lid laid next to it, letting its entire content to be proudly shown. The explosion of colors from the most diverse large, small, pointy, fluffy feathers took over the frame, however, a tiny piece of paper placed on the exact center of them was what captured his attention. The lens zoomed and focused, making him able to read the quick message written there.

“:)”

And then the screen went black. The video was over.

Roman could feel his face being almost split in half by his grin, his fingers hitting the table top in complete frenzy since they hadn’t to hold the device anymore, curling and uncurling as the one who couldn’t just stay still started to bounce his right leg, ignoring the redness he felt crippling down his neck.

“Roman?”

He fully shrieked. Both him and Patton startled and jumped a few centimeters in the air with the sudden sound. The florist slapping his own hand on his mouth, trying with all his inner strength to stop the bubbly giggles which flooded non stop from his lips

“Sorry for the scare, kiddo,” the shine on his eyes free of any guilt as Patton bit his own knuckles proved the contrary, especially when the rest of an awed squeal escaped from his lips, only making the other to giggle harder, eyes closed, blush deepening and nose scrunched. “Aww, your giggles are so cute!”

“Shuhuhush!!” The Flower Shop owner just smiled fondly, withholding his comments and patiently waiting for the other to recompose himself. When Roman looked at least a tad calmer he decided to make his decision to talk to him clear.

“I’m glad you’re in a good mood, Ro! I just wanted to remember today’s shift is already over. I need a bit of time to organize everything before the painter comes so we can discuss the new design of the Flower Shop. Thank you so much for the ideas, by the way! I can’t wait for you all to see the result! It will be so pretty!!” Roman’s wide eyes were enough of an explanation of why he wasn’t ready to go yet, probably having forgotten about their last month conversation. Although, the surprised look was away in an instant, a shine taking over his glare before he softened, locking his eyes with Patton.

“Of course, it will be, Patty-cake! With my magnificent ideas and your good taste, I really don’t think any other result besides wonderful and perfection will be possible!” He squeezed Patton’s cheeks and his friend stuck out his tongue at him, winning a quick poke on his ribs that made him squirms and yelp, quickly tittering and waving the other with his hands.

“Now shoo-shoo, go enjoy your afternoon!”

A devious smirk gleamed on Roman’s expression for a second. “You can count on it, Padre.” But then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Thank you, my mighty hero in a shiny armor! May the universe let our destiny align again in the future.”

“See ya, kiddo!” He replied, his tune also full of joy, watching the one with red hair going away, a happy bounce on his steps.

[…]

Virgil picked the phone in the first ring. “Roman, something happened?”

“Nope,” the purple lover sighed in relief, all the tension getting out of his body and being replaced by confusion, “nothing happened except that a handsome, incredible someone got out from his work earlier than expected and might be heading his home by now.”

That made Virgil shot up, biting his lower lip, butterflies freaking out. “No.” It was his whisper.

“Oh, yes. ~” Roman practically purred on the speaker. “any last words, my dear, defenseless Giggly Storm?”

Virgil just giggled and Roman had almost forgotten how that sound only was enough to spread an explosion of a warm, good feeling on his chest. “Aw, and here I was thinking I would have at least some challenge today. ~” He continued to tease.

Silence.

“Go check your messages, Princeypie.”

And then he hung up. Roman fondly rolled his eyes, running to check the new notification on their conversation.

[Panic! At Everywhere sent a photo]

It was Virgil, sitting on his bed criss crossed, one elbow resting on his thigh as he took the picture on the body mirror on the other side of the room, a strong blush very visible on his face half hidden by the device, wearing a short and Roman’s red crop top. A new message popped right under the photo.

[P: Get your butt here and tickle me, Sir Sing a Lot.’]

This emo was going to be the death of him.

[D: Aww, I don’t even get a smile?]

[P: You gotta work for those, Princey.]

Virgil definitely did not jump nor yelp as he heard the low, dangerous tune of an “evil” laughter echoes in the house coming from the living room, the sound of the front door being closed making his flight instincts kick in.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Virgil was already halfway to the most far away room where he could escape, trying to keep his reputation as he heard another set of footsteps quickly getting ground and following right behind him. Laughter and squeaks mixed in the air.

“Because I will.” Roman answered.

#Very teasy #Teases #Lee!Virgil #Ler!Roman #Virgil is a brat and Roman is one as well #Ticklish!Virgil #Sanders Sides tickles #Sanders Sides tickling #Kanene's Fanfic #Kanene's Art #Kanene's fic #Brief self tickles #Feathers #blushy bois #Writing this kind of fic is very fun and sdfghertcvgbhn kind of silly as well #Virgil: Tickle me// Roman: Okay// Virgil: *NYOOOM*#I still don't know how to tag this dfghjsdfghdcf #I feel like my writing is a bit weird nowdays but yeah I'm still proud of this!

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years

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The Corpse Bride - A Sapphic Rewriting (2/2)

I cannot believe this is the only decent screenshot where both the ladies are present!

Anyway, here is the second and last part of my sapphic rewriting of Tim Burton’s The Corpse Bride: it turned out a bit longer than I first thought but I hope you enjoy it!

If you do, please consider reblogging and/or spreading the word: it’s so hard being a writer on tumblr... 🙏

I also remind you the amazing fanart by @may12324 (here & here) and the AO3 Sapphic Emily/Victoria fanfics.

Tagging @gay-fandom-menace for the last update!

________________________

As days passed, Emily went above and beyond to show her spouse the hidden beauty of the Land of the Dead and she eventually succeeded. Victoria looked less frightened of the residents living in the shadows and even accepted to attend the welcome party in her honour, where she apologised to the general for stealing his saber. It was almost as if she...forgot where she was or no longer cared about the oddity of the place, Emily noticed, looking her laughing at one of Bonejangles' mots d'esprit. She also realised that she enjoyed the time spent with her more than she could have foreseen. Victoria was always shy and almost regal in her poise but there were moments when Emily would say something funny and she would laugh, a hearty gracious laughter, covering her mouth with a hand. Or when she sighted contently petting a purring Miles. One day, returning from a walk up the hill, they found the pub deserted and decided to head inside. Emily produced herself in her best bartender impression that made her spouse giggle, and ventured behind the counter to fix herself a drink while her companion took a seat on a stool. "How many days have passed since I came here? It's so hard to have a perception of time down here..."

Emily turned, taking a sip of red wine. Victoria looked suddenly lost in her own thoughts. "I don't know, sweetheart...a week maybe? Why?" "Oh nothing" Victoria laughed weakly, shaking her head. "I was just wondering where Victor is now. If he's alright" "Who's Victor? Your brother?" the corpse bride asked, excited at the idea of learning more about her family. "Oh no! He's my fiancé...even if it sounds a bit weird calling him so, after meeting him the other day for the first time. I was looking for him in the woods when I stumbled into you" An unknown feeling spread a sudden cold inside Emily. She didn't know why but she felt suddenly less cheerful after that revelation. She heard herself asking Victoria to tell her more about him and that's how she learnt he was from a fish merchants family, the Van Dort - or the nouveaux riches as the Everglot called them with evident displeasure for their non-aristocratic roots-; his dark eyes and shy manners, his endearing clumsiness. He was also a formidable pianist, she added. "I can play the piano too! What music do you like?" Emily exclaimed, without thinking and taking Victoria's hands in hers. She guided her towards the instrument on the opposite side of the room and they both take a seat on the old dusty bench. Victoria giggled and threw her a curious look. "Something dreamy and nostalgic?" Emily asked, starting to play a solemn tune that caught her spouse's attention. Then, after a while and with a sudden yet gracious key change, she added, flashing a conspiratorial smile. "...or maybe something a bit more lively and cheerful?" When she started singing a popular ballad, Victoria gaped in surprise. Now she truly understood why her undead bride's fame was renewed for miles when she was alive: not only her features still bore traces of a rare beauty that surely won the hearts of hundreds suitors but also she had the voice of an angel. Her fingertips ran over the keyboard with confidence while her voice enchanted her with its supreme harmony. An angel of music, Victoria thought, contemplating her. Out of the blue, just before the grand finale, Emily's skeleton hand parted from the rest of her body and performed a joyous trill on the keyboard before running up Victoria's arm and shoulder. She was used to it going its own way from time to time but it kind of embarrassed her that it happened in front of her spouse. She giggled nervously. "Pardon my enthusiasm" To her great surprise, the Everglot girl wasn't horrified by what happened. She gave the hand an amused look and took her in her own. Then, she turned towards Emily and helped her placing it back at the end of her arm. The bride was about to mutter a thank you when she spoke. "I like your enthusiasm" When Emily met her gaze there was a new shade of red on the girl's cheeks and a bashful smile on her lips. The cold feeling that troubled her immediately vanished, replaced by a warmth that she hadn't felt since joining the Land of the Dead. Maybe in her whole life. Too soon Victoria diverted her dark eyes. "Why don't we play a duet?" Emily suggested. If possible, Miss Everglot blushed even more. "I don't play the piano" "Oh" Emily was genuinely surprised. "I'm sorry, I just thought-" "No, it's fine! It's just..." Victoria took a deep sigh. "Mother says music is improper for a young lady. Too passionate...so she never let me lay a finger on our piano" "Am I being...improper? My most sincere apologies, your ladyship" Victoria turned to see Emily offering a teasing smile. The grim mood caused by the mention of Mother instantly melted away and she found herself laughing. "Oh no, you played splendidly! It was truly lovely, Emily" Victoria said, serious again. "It's just Mother, she...well, I suppose you can say she never approves of anything" Emily nodded understandingly. A shadow crossed her face. "Do you think she would have approved of me? The two girls shared a long grim look, leaving the answer they both knew in their heart lingering in the air, unspoken. "You're lucky you'll never have to meet her" Victoria sighed, losing herself in her own thoughts and memories again. "The day I...found you and disappeared she came finding me before the rehearsals of the wedding. She only wanted to check if my corset was laced properly. And she made fun of my being a little nervous. She told me that it was nonsense because marriage is just a partnership, a little tit-for-tat" After a moment, she continued. "Since I was a child I've dreamt of my wedding day. I always hoped to find someone I was deeply in love with. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. Silly, isn't it?" The smile on her lips was so pained that Emily felt the irresistible urge to place a hand over hers. The sudden gesture surprised Victoria who blinked her bid dark eyes. "I am just the same" the bride whispered, softly. "And I can teach you how to play the piano, if you like? So that we can play duets, what do you say?" Victoria considered for a moment then the doleful look in her eyes left room to a tiny little sparkle and she nodded enthusiastically, like a little girl. Content, Emily scooted closer so that shoulders brushed against each other and gently placed her hands over hers. Now she felt it too, the sparkle that brightened Victoria's face. "Loosen up yours shoulder and press whatever button you like. That's it! Now another, and that black one too...see how they combine together?" The impromptu lesson kept going until someone cleared his throat. Emily turned to see an ancient skeleton standing on the threshold soon followed by Miles. "Elder Gutknecht, what a lovely surprise! And welcome back, Miles: enjoyed your galavanting?" She stood and guided Victoria towards the newcomer. "Dear Elder, have you met my wife?" the bride asked with cheerful pride. "This is Victoria of the Land of the Living. Victoria, this is Elder Gutknecht, the most ancient spirit in our midst and resident Sage: ask him anything, he knows it!" Victoria gave the skeleton a gracious curtsy. "Enchanted, Elder Gutknecht" "Ah, so this is the lucky one, huh, Emily?" the old Sage inquired, jostling a heavy-looking tome in his arms. "Delighted to make your acquaintance Miss-" "Victoria, Victoria Everglot" "Miss Victoria Everglot!" he flashed an unreadable smile before addressing the corpse bride. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Emily" "Sure, speak away" "In private, actually...if you don't mind" Emily looked a bit surprised but obliged. She placed one hand on her spouse's shoulder before taking her leave. "Keep familiarising yourself with the instrument, my darling. I'll be back before you know it. And Miles, be a good boy: do not jump on the keyboard!" That being said, after one last quick smile to both, she followed the Elder down in the cellar. She couldn't possibly understand what he wanted to discuss with her but she knew you never question a Sage. So she stood there, patiently waiting for he to talk. When they were alone, she perceived a sense of unease in the air. When he finally resolved himself to speak, Elder Gutknecht's face looked troubled. "I am afraid I am a messenger of grim news, my dear girl" "What grim news? I don't understand, Elder" Emily exclaimed, lost and a little anxious. The old skeleton took a deep sigh and continued. It seemed as if words costed him a great effort. "According to the vows you shared, your union is valid..." he briefly consulted the ancient tome in his hands. "'until death do you apart', isn't it?" "Yes, so what, Elder?" He closed the book and gave her a sad look. "Death has already parted you, dear Emily" It took a moment to the bride to process the meaning of his words: her mind resisted, refused to acknowledge it. She heard the words he said after while her heart ached in her chest: she was dead, Miss Everglot was living. The only way to make this marriage valid was asking Victoria to drink the "Wine of Ages", a poisoned goblet, so that she could join her in death. "No...no...there must be other ways!" Emily exclaimed, begged, walking frantically up and down. When the Elder grimly confirmed that no, sadly there was no other way, she stopped and gave him a long heartbroken look. "I could never ask her that...to give up her life for me. I...would never ask her that" she whispered, her voice cracking. Tears welled her eyes as she felt like she had lost Victoria for good. She turned and gave the Elder her shoulders, covering her face in a desperate attempt to protect her sorrow from his eyes. She had lost her love once again. "I'm sorry, may I interrupt?" She immediately followed the voice: Victoria was standing on the threshold, politely clearing her throat. She threw quick glances at both of them as a gaping Elder gestured to join them. "I'm sorry, I was just passing by and I overheard your conversation..." Emily felt another pang of sadness making her bones ache: what must Victoria think of her now? She must feel so betrayed and outraged... "Victoria, I am so incredibly sorry, please believe me I didn't know anything about this" she said, rushing to her side and placing a trembling hand on her cheek. She felt her knees getting far too weak when the Everglot girl looked at her with her big dark eyes. "But just know that I...I release you from those vows, I would never ask you-" To her surprise, she interrupted her. "I do believe you, Emily" she smiled weakly, taking her skeletal hand into hers. "And I appreciate what you said to the Elder here" The bride gave her a painful smile, caressing her cheek. "It's the least I could do after causing all this trouble, darl-" "But I'll do it" Emily froze. "What?" "I'll do it" Victoria repeated. "I'll drink the Wine of Ages and join you in death. I only have one last favour to ask" Her eyes wandered between the Elder and her spouse. "Can I go back...Upstairs before the wedding and the ritual?" The permission was given and she and Emily went back to the woods where they first met. It wasn't night yet but the moon already shone bright in the sky. Emily was mesmerised: she took a few steps and contemplate the big almost full moon for a while. "I've spent so long in the darkness, I'd almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is." she said at last, turning towards Victoria. She outstretched her arms and when the girl took her hands into hers, she guided her into a gracious slow dance around the woods. The Everglot girl had never seen someone dancing like her: it came so easy to her, as if every step, every move, every spin wasn't just sheer perfection but a second skin to her. She laughed softly when the bride ended the dance with a curtesy, rising her hand to her lips. "One day you'll have me to share some of your dancing teaching with me" "Anytime, sweetheart" "I'll go say my goodbyes now if you-" "Mais biensure, go ahead! I will wait for you here, in this gorgeous moonlight" Victoria flashed her a quick smile and was about to take her leave when Emily gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Victoria, just know that if you ever change your mind about the ritual, I...you can always say no, and I will never judge you or...seek vengeance because of that, you understand?" Victoria nodded, her slightly childish way of nodding. "I'll be back before you know it!" And she disappeared into the woods, headed towards the city. Emily's eyes followed her until she lost sight of her and sat on a fallen tree trunk, sighing contently. But there was no quiet time for her: her right eye started itching until it popped out into her lap to reveal...petty Waggot. "I've heard this already!" the creature muttered angrily. "And i know a lie when I hear it!" Emily rolled her left eye and retrieved the other. "Hello to you too, Waggot! I suggest you to calm down and relax: as much as I appreciate your concern, she will be back" "But of course" he signed, sardonic. "Oh hush you! If you have nothing nice to say, keep quiet and let me enjoy the moonlight for once" Waggot certainly knew how to be exasperating and he was certainly wrong, Emily thought. So she waited and waited until the unpleasant feeling of a deja bu started tormenting her from a corner of her mind. What if petty Waggot was right this time? Troubled and with a growing concern gnawing her, she headed towards the edge of the forest, looking for Victoria. She didn't have to search for long but the scene she found made her hide behind a tree. The girl was standing not far away, on the bridge by the river, but...she wasn't alone. She was hugging a boy around her age with dark hair and eyes that Emily immediately recognised as Victor. When the two parted and kept chatting, the bride rested her back against a tree to avoid getting caught. Emily didn't know what to think, what to make of it. The sudden violent pang of jealousy was soon replaced by a sense of emptiness and pain. What a fool she had been to think someone like Victoria could reciprocate her feelings for her...'Little Miss Living' as Waggot called her. How could she compared to Victor who was still breathing and had a beating heart in his chest just like Victoria? If she touched a burning candle, she would feel no pain, just like if you would cut her with a knife. She wouldn't burn nor bleed like them. Yet, even if her heart wasn't pumping blood in her veins, she could distinctly feel it aching and breaking at the sight of that embrace. With an excruciating urge of crying, she took another look from her hiding spot. This time she made out some words of their conversation. "Do you remember everything?" her spouse was saying. "Find Hildegarde, she knows what to do and-" "And meet you at the church, got it" "Excellent! And Victor..." she took his hand into hers. "You have no idea how important this is for me" "But are you sure? I mean, if you-" "I am, Victor. As I've never been before" Then, she looked over her shoulder and spotted Emily in the woods. Emily wanted to hide but the girl smiled and waved at her. To her surprise even the boy did so, looking terrified, his hand shaking. "I must go now but we have a deal, right? See you, Victor!" With one last hug to an astonished Victor, the Everglot girl joined Emily again and wrapped her arm around hers and walked back to the centre of the woods. She couldn't help but notice that the corpse bride was awfully quiet all the way down. The wedding was set for the following night. The announcement spread a contagious wave of excitement among the residents of the Land of the Dead: everyone wanted to contribute to the brides' special day. It had been long since they last attended a joyful event. So Bonejangles, self-elected best man for the ceremony, took the stage to rehearse his speech, the maitre head gave instructions to the imperturbable bartender while tailors ran up and downs the streets offering to fix the brides' dresses and bakers argued over how to bake the most decadent wedding cake. When time came, an overjoyed crowd marched towards the church, Elder Gutknecht walking upfront with the brides in tow. Needless to say, it was enough to make the old arrogant pastor ran away in his nightgown. Once inside, they took their seat, chatting excitedly. Emily threw Victoria a smile and noticed that her spouse looked nervous now, constantly checking over her shoulders. Her hear ached again. Everyone only went quiet when the Elder asked for silence. "Dearly beloved... and departed..." he started, rather proud of his role of officiant when the doors opened again and he rolled his eyes at the late guests. Emily turned, followed by the rest of the crowd, to see a boy and an old lady with tired, glassy eyes standing - and looking around trying and failing to suppress a shudder - at the end of the aisle. The boy was holding a pile of boxes that for a moment hid his face but no mistake: it was Victor. His eyes found the brides and he offered the best smile he could manage in the general surprise. "Sorry for the interruption, we-we are probably a bit late but we...we brought the dress" Emily, who was bracing herself for the last of another betrayal, couldn't believe her hears. She looked back at Victoria lost, confused. The girl only smiled, her jaw finally relaxing. She wasn't nervous because Victor was late to stop the ceremony and 'save her' but because...Victor was late with her dress? "I'm sorry I kept this from you, Emily...I hope you don't mind if I asked Victor and my maid to join us and bring me the wedding dress Ma ordered. They are the closest I have in this world to friends and the dress was already there so I thought..." she blushed imperceptibly, shrugging. "I thought that I'll only marry once, better do it properly, if you don't mind waiting a little longer" "Of course, dear" Emily whispered, touched, taking her hands into hers. As a lively chatting started again, Victoria headed to the adjacent room with the old lady, who pushed Victor out as soon as she grabbed the last box, eliciting a general round of laughter. Emily threw a sympathetic look to Victor, who was adjusting his tie in a desperate attempt to compose himself. He cleared his throat and asked who was the maid of honor. "Best man here, buddy!" Bonejangles waved from the first row. The Van Dort boy smiled quickly at Emily and approached him. He picked a wedding ring out of his pocket and handed it to him. He was about to leave when the skeleton grabbed his arm and pulled him into a half-hug, inviting to assist to the ceremony with all of them. Victoria's friends were their friends too, he said and the crowd murmured in approval. After what seemed like an eternity to Emily's sentimental heart, the doors of the adjacent room opened and the old woman appeared first, headed towards one the bench after an awkward curtsy. Then...she appeared, and it almost seemed to the corpse bride that her heart started beating again. It wasn't possible but the sight in front of her brought her an happiness so vivid she couldn't help but feel...alive again. The dress Mrs Everglot picked was quite simple and a bit old-fashioned, with little to no decors and high collar. It didn't enhance the beauty of her daughter but Emily thought that Victoria's grace needed no enhancement : she was a vision, walking solemnly back to the altar, a shy smile on her lips and a bouquet of violets in her hands. While the ceremony started at last and they began sharing their vows, Emily thought back at all the moments they shared together. The comforting warmth of Victoria's living body against hers when she fell asleep on her shoulders and the dimples on her cheeks when she laughed at a joke. The somber look in her eyes when she told her about her unhappy life with her family and the urgency she felt of holding her in her arms back then. Or their non-duet at the piano, their dance in the moonlight... So when time come and Victoria held and goblet of Wine of Ages and recited "Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine" She stopped her before she could bring the poison to her lips. "No" she cut her short. "But Emily..." Now Victoria was the one lost in the plot. Emily placed the goblet back on the altar and gave her a sad smile filled. "I was a girl like you once. Then life was taken from me. I love you, Victoria, and I will never do the same to you. I will never take your life. We only live once and you...deserve to live yours to the fullest" Out of the blue, the church doors slammed open again and a man the Everglot girl recognised as the mysterious man attending the rehearsals of her wedding as if he owned the whole place walked in. He looked straight at her with a charming yet vaguely menacing grin. He profused himself in a speech about how relieved he was to find her at last, she was sent to look for her by her family, devastated by her sudden disappearance. When he was close enough, he gallantly offered her a hand, asking to follow him. His courtesy didn't last long though: when Victoria, shocked by his complete disregard for the surroundings, refused, he grabbed her arm and made to pull her away. Murmurs raised from the audience and Victor raised to his feet. "Leave me! You have no right to come her and force me to follow you" Victoria protested, dropping her bouquet. "As a matter of fact, I do have, darling" he smirked, an ominous wolfish grin. "I humbly asked for your hand in marriage if I managed to find the lost girl, and guess what Mom and Dad said after that disastrous engagement? So that makes you my fiancée, dear Victoria" My fiancée...my fiancée... The world echoed in Emily's mind until a sudden memory hit her. The foggy night, the oak tree, the menacing gleam of the rapier. "Let her go now, you monster" she shouted, cold fury simmering in her bones. "Mind your business" he hissed back, pulling Victoria's arm again but Emily took hold of his own in a steely grip. "I say let her go now and get out" He met her gaze with his face distorted in anger. He didn't recognise her at first but when he did, his face tensed up in fear and horror as he back-pedalled, setting the Everglot girl free. "It can't be..." "My thoughts precisely...when you left me to die and ran away with my gold" Emily now advanced threateningly in his direction as a loud gasp resound through the curch. Fury and panic ruled his moves as he promptly unsheathed his rapier and thrusted it into the bride's ribcage only to find out that he had no luck this time. An ominous smile crossed her face as she dropped her own bouquet and exclaimed: "General? Your saber" "With great pleasure, Emily" Nobody knew whether the bride was skilled in sword fighting but the duel that followed was not for the faint of heart. Emily's stabs were raw, unrefined but her thirst for vengeance made up for it; also her previous knowledge of Lord Barkis came in handy as he wasn't to be trusted with a sword. He fought as a scoundrel now that he dropped the mask and scoundrels of his sort, with no honour nor empathy, never fight fairly. Panic and turmoil erupted among the guests. Suddenly, Victoria's voice resounded over the clashing of the swords. "Victor, run, go find the guards and expose Lord Barkis! And you, down there lock the doors!" The boy looked confused for a moment but recovered soon and sprinted away into the night while the bartender and another skeleton locked the doors behind him . Lord Barkis didn't even notice him, blocking another hit. "Expose me? And for what, milady?" he laughed, an hideous humourless laughter. "I am inclined to believe the guards will consider the accusations seriously once they find you armed on a crime scene" the Evetglot girl explained, quietly. "What crime scene? I am the one being attacked here!" "Get out, you monster, I said!" Emily roared. Then, a sudden collective gasp from the attending guests, drove the attention back to the other side of the aisle. Even the fighting stopped. Victoria was standing by the altar, steely determination in her gaze and the goblet in her right hand. Her gaze found the corpse bride again and she lifted her left hand. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for" she continued, raising the goblet. "I will be your wine." Emily cried out an impotent "no!" as the girl drowned the poisoned goblet in one huge gulp, wincing afterwards. The corpse bride dropped the saber, and held her dress as she ran as quickly as her feet could take her to the altar. Stubbornly, Victoris grabbed a candle and raise it but her hands started shaking, just like her voice. "With this candle, I will light ...your way...in...darkness." The candlestick fell to the marble ground just as Emily rushed to held her trembling figure and prevent her to fall too. Victoria was awfully pale and abandoned herself into her arms like a dead weight, unable to sustain herself anymore. Her breathing was feeble, a pained whisper when she continued. "With this...ring, I...ask you...to be...mine." Emily desperatly called her name but her eyes lost her usual gleam and the body in her arms became too cold and still for a living. The Wine of Ages truly was deadly. Overwhelmed by the heartbreak, Emily cradled the lifeless body tenderly while tears rimmed her face. Foolish, foolish Victoria. Her despair was met by a respectful silence, to honour her loss. Or so she thought until someone cleared their throat and offered placed a hand over her shoulder. "Emily, I think this is when the officiant says 'You may now kiss the bride'" a familiar voice said. Not just a familiar voice. Her voice. Emily opened her eyes and turned her head. Victoria - or her corpse - was standing at her side, smiling encouragely. Emily stood without hesitation as if drawn to her by an irresistible force. When they faced each other, she reached for her hands. "I thought I lost you" Victoria raised cold fingertips to her cheek. "You never will, my love" When they lips touched, a light so bright emanated from their embracing bodies, swallowing them completely till they disappeared into a shower of butterflies. What follows is matter of legends and stories told by the fireplace. After the wedding, the guards stormed into the now empty church only to find the corpse of Miss Everglot in a wedding dress and Lord Barkis on the verge on insanity. He claimed he was innocent but he sounded rather hysterical. According to the local chronicles, his arrest lead to an investigation that uncovered a series of murders of local wealthy heiresses in the villages he stopped by. Sentenced guilty and not sane in his head, he ended his days in an asylum, without a penny and forgotten by the world. As for the other characters of the story... Apparently, that eventful night the curse of the corpse bride was broken as she found the true love who set her free. Victor Van Dort left the village is search of better fortune as a pianist. The dawn of his departure, a pair of butterflies, a blue and a lilac one, graciously waltzed inside his room, flying around him; he likes to think they were the brides saying adieu and wishing him a bright new life. The woods are now less ominous: kids play by the river again and nobody fears venturing there, even after dark. However, some claims that the forest is still somehow haunted. The baker's son swears that if you go by the oak tree during full moon, you would see two female spirits dancing a waltz in the moonlight. They are not spooky: on the contrary, quite a joy for the eyes. And one of them looks just like Miss Victoria Everglot.

#the corpse bride #the corpse bride fanfic #the corpse bride sapphic version #wlw writing #tim burton

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thestuckylibrary · 5 years

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Group Ask 123

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Anon 1 said:

Hey do you guys know of a fanfiction where Steve and Bucky’s old apartment from the 40s was turned into a museum? Thanks :)

Anon 2 said:

i remember a specific fic that i couldn't find in the sex pollen or the a/b/o tag (i'm p sure it was abo but i might be remembering wrong?) steve and bucky are on a mission but they get trapped in a room with sex gas, u know classic sex pollen tm stuff, but they jerk off apart from each other. after they're friends with benefits during steve's heat maybe? it might not be a/b/o at all gg sorry ! hope you're all having a lovely day<3

awydd, bennettmp339 and Anon sent in jamais vu by Claudia_flies (oneshot | 13,856 | E)

tiredhomosapien said:

Hello, I've been trying to find this fic about Bucky staying at a cabin by a river that Steve protects. I think he's a nymph or some other magical being. At one point their neighbor helps them fend off an attack and I think I was Peggy, who's a witch. Eventually Bucky goes back to the triskelion and Steve shows up to help. He shows up in the lobby naked and, maybe, in post-serum form because of how big the Potomac River is. Thank you in advance!

Anon 3 said:

this might be a long shot but someone reblogged a quote from orestes that said something like “i’ll take care of you” “it’s rotten work” “not to me, not if it’s you” and i know it’s from a stucky fic i just can’t remember the name. does it ring any bells for anyone ? thanks

Anon 4 said:

Hey I'm looking for a fic I can't find anywhere. It's a wrong number AU (already looked at the searches) where bucky calls Steve from a payphone after trying to reach Sam for date advice? I think? But Steve actually ends up giving him advice and theykeep texting and stuff and its cuts

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soulfulalpaca said:

hi I've recently fallen back into the stucky fandom and i'm trying to find a fic. I'm pretty sure it was in a bigger collection or series about steve and bucky's D/s relationship -- dom!bucky/sub!steve. The fic i'm thinking of in particular steve spends the whole day pretending to be a sex doll but i cannot for the life of me find it. any help would be much appreciated!!

Anon 5 said:

hi there. I was looking for an AU fic where Steve studies art at a high school, but he's not a student and Bucky is a book worm. Natasha is Steves roommate. I think Bucky got wasted and kept calling Steve's bicycle a 'Yellow car'. Oh, and they fill condoms up with water and throw them from a rooftop. Anyways thank you if you can find it and if you can't, thank you for trying.

Anon 6 said:

hi ! i’ve been looking for this fic for a while and i can’t seem to find it. it’s where steve comes home to bucky and he was out with the other avengers maybe and is tipsy and covered in glitter and bucky is in bed and just got back from a mission. it was kind of fluffy with minor angst. in the fic they were together and it was post catws if that helps.

Anon 7 said:

I cant find this fic. I dont remember what it was about, only that at some point steve and bucky were in a museum looking at a pollock painting, and steve said he didn't really like pollock's paintings because he doesn't get them. bucky really liked the painting and he said something like 'I'm happy you cant understand this' because it reminded him of what he went through. He might have tried to explain what it means to steve. the author also talked about the piece in the end notes. Any ideas?

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Anon 8 said:

Hey I was wondering if you knew from a stuck fic where they find Bucky and take him to the tower and put him on a room but he’s almost feral and hides under the bed to gain his trust Steve chains himself up in the corner so Bucky has to look after him. It could be a A/B/O story but not sure Thanks for everything

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Anon 9 said:

Hi! Ive been looking forever for a specific work, maybe someone here knows it? It was about omega!bucky being a newcomer to alpha!steve pack, tribe, whatever. I remember they had sex in public in a stone or something (lol). Nat, clint and coulson were together. Also, Thor and Loki had some kind of harem. Sorry it sounds weird but I really cant find it! Thanks anyways for your hard work :)

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Anon 10 said:

Hey! So I don't know if this is a fic or I imagined it, but basically Bucky is really drunk and he tells Steve that even though he got tortured by Hydra, watching Steve falling in love with Peggy was still more painful. Thanks!

Anon 11 said:

Hi! I’m looking for a fic where Bucky goes back into cryo and Steve is pissed about it. He won’t stay in the room while Bucky is frozen. He stays in Wakanda, but when Bucky wakes up Steve won’t talk to him and eventually Bucky comes to his door with tea and boxing gloves and says they either need to talk it out or fight it out. I checked through all of the post CACW/CAWS tags and did a blog search for cryo, but for the life of me I can’t find this fic. Any help would be appreciated. Thanks!

Anon 12 said:

Hi! I’m looking for a fic where Bucky enlists Steve to paint a replica of a famous painting that they are going to use in a deal and Natasha works for a gang Bucky was once part of. I know that’s not a lot of detail but I would really appreciate if anyone knows this fic! Thank you!

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Anon 13 said:

okay awsome work here! the fic im looking for is an abo fic, steve is an alpha and bucky an omega. Bucky has to go for his omega assement and is nervous he and steve are new friends. Bucky gets declaired as a special omega and has to find an alpha quickly qnd steve volunterrs.

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#group asks

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