(Author's Note) A/N: I’m a bit of a lurker in the community but I love sharing some stuff of my own. In celebration of the mighty nien animated series coming out soon I wanted to share this! Hope you like it!
(Publisher's Note) P/N: HELLO I'M SO GLAD YOU THOUGHT TO WRITE THIS AND SUBMIT THIS BEAUTIFUL WORK TO MY BLOG I AM RIDE OR DIE FOR LEE CALEB BABES OMG ((ALSO side note I wasn't sure if you wanted to be anonymous or not since you didn't specify so please let me know if you want anything changed and I'll be right on it!!))
Summary: Mighty Nein CR Campaign 2 - Shadowgast and Sweet Nein antics - and what happens you ask? LEE CALEB LEE CALEB LEE CALEB LEE CALEB love to see our boy getting it from his friends AND from his sexy wizard mentor / crush.
Teaching dunamancy was never something Essek considered doing. He was more of an observer, a researcher and a loner. He had only himself to rely on and no one that had to rely on him, and that was a perfect arrangement.
However, everything seemed to change after the arrival of the Mighty Nein.
What was once a chore of glorified babysitting, a job he could only blame himself for having to take, became something akin to fondness when he was around them. Of course he was still charged with monitoring them, but the more he did it the more time he found enjoying their company. Even more so, he was enjoying the time spent teaching Caleb about dunamancy.
Caleb was an anomaly to him. Drow society described humans as power hungry, close minded individuals who cared little about things that didn’t serve their own interests.
Caleb seemed to be the opposite.
He was curious, compassionate with his friends, and willing to reach out and learn all he could from people much different from himself. He had both wisdom through experience and natural intelligence. He stood strong in the face of adversity but could soften around the people he trusted.
The dunamancy lessons were becoming more frequent as time went on. Caleb's thirst for knowledge was evident with every encounter they had, his spark of curiosity seemed to light even the darkest Rosohnian sky, and Essek found himself looking forward to each meet up.
Today would be a simple lesson, mostly just brushing up and perfecting a few casting techniques unique to the discipline. Though he could have teleported, he decided to take a long stroll, or glide in his case, to the one house that stood out among the others, with a towering tree on the rooftop and glowing lights surrounding it. The streets were quiet as usual, as residents kept to themselves while walking the stone paths. The silence was broken the moment Essek stepped up to the entrance of the Xhorhaus.
Planting his feet on the ground, Essek heard a loud, muffled noise coming from within the home, piercing the silence that so often engulfed the neighborhood. His ears perked up, trying to place what exactly the noise was. The Nein definitely weren’t quiet neighbors, and loud noises from the house was nothing unusual, but this one was unfamiliar. Common courtesy ended up overwriting his curiosity, and he knocked on the door.
Mere seconds later, footsteps could be heard, and the door opened, revealing Caduceus on the other side. The sound became clear, no longer muffled by a closed door, and he could finally place what it was.
Laughter. Hysterical, unabashed, and free.
“Ah, you made it.” He said warmly, a relaxed smile lighting up his face. “Come in, I’ve made some tea if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Mr. Clay, that would be just fine."
A sudden shriek permeated from the next room over. Essek tried not to flinch at the sudden sound, but it was distracting. Not only was it loud, but he couldn’t seem to place whose laugh it was that bounced along the walls all the way to the front door.
Caduceus, perceptive as always, noticed his attention waiver. “Ah, sorry about that,” he chucked softly, “just some of the usual antics.”
After getting to know the Nein so well, he understood exactly what he meant. “Yes, I can imagine,” he huffed in amusement as he floated in.
More laughs seemed to join the previous, along with voices speaking up in between fits of giggles.
“I’ll go get that tea.” Caduceus said, patting Essek on the shoulder before walking to the kitchen.
That was something he still hadn’t gotten used to, the physical closeness that seemed to naturally come to the group. It was one thing to see them be close with each other, but to openly and unabashedly include him in things like hugs and gentle touches on the arm was both intimidating yet inviting. He still wasn’t sure what to think of it.
He thought about this as he made his way to the living room, only to find an unexpected sight on the couch.
Laying there were three figures, Beau was seated with her back to the arm of the couch, turned and holding Caleb’s arms back in a hug from behind while he was laid out. Jester sat on top of his legs, wiggling her fingers menacingly towards him.
“Come on, Caleb,” she sang in a teasing voice, “you need to relax! You always get so worked up before a lesson, there’s nothing to be nervous about!”
“I do not!” He protested through his laughter, kicking his legs and squinting his eyes shut as he refused to look at her.
“Bullshit,” Beau replied from behind him. “You get way too in your own head, you know you need to loosen up a little bit.”
“That is not true at a-HAHAHAHALL!” He was interrupted as Jester brought her hands down to his ribs, gently scribbling underneath the holsters that were always by his sides. With his head thrown back, cackling like mad for all the room to hear, it was clear the hysterical laughter had been coming from him this entire time.
Normally Essek would have made his presence known by now, but he was captivated by the sight of Caleb’s flushed, smiling face as his high pitched, hysterical laughter flowed. He would never have expected that such a sound could have come from his current student. It captured all of his focus, making it so he could barely process what was being said around him, only the sound of cackles seemed to reach his ears clearly. He didn’t even notice when Caduceus came back into the room with a tray of cups and cookies in his hands.
“Alright, who wants drinks?” He called out, suddenly pulling Essek back to reality, and gaining the attention of Caleb’s torturers.
“Oh, me!” Jester shouted happily as she leapt off of Caleb, skipping her way to Caduceus. She didn't even glance at Essek as she grabbed a cup along with a cookie on the side to dip in it.
“Sweet,” Beau let go of Caleb’s arms, only to turn and stop suddenly when she spotted Essek in the doorway. Caleb was quick to follow her gaze, nearly choking when he noticed his mentor.
“E-Essek!” He scrambled to get off the couch, being sure to stand tall as he fixed his ruffled hair. “I, um, I did not mean to- ah, keep you waiting.”
Beau awkwardly got up from her spot and made her way to Caduceus, grabbing a cup of tea to sip on while she watched the mess unfold.
Essek became aware of how warm his face felt, imagining it had become a bright magenta by now. Clearing his throat, he tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible.
“Oh, of course. It was, ah, not a long wait at all.” He quickly grabbed a cup of tea and started sipping.
Caleb made sure to avoid eye contact as he rushed out the door. “I will meet you in the usual spot.” He said swiftly as he brushed past.
Caduceus chuckled, making a note to bring him some tea later. “Don’t worry about him. Laughter’s good for the soul, some people just need a bit more help with it than others.” With that he slipped out of the room back to the kitchen, Beau closely tailing him with a smirk. Jester was the only one that stayed in the room.
“Oh boy,” she whispered, still with a smile on her face. “Caleb’s probably, like, embarrassed or something."
Essek stared at her, finally able to control his expression now that Caleb had left. “I, um, did not mean to cause anyone discomfort.”
“Oh, it’s totally not your fault,” she explained. “Caleb just thinks too much, so we sometimes have to get him to let go and not think for a while. He always gets all red and blushy when we tickle him though. It’s super cute, isn’t it?” She stared back at Essek, a single eyebrow raised, trying to gauge his reaction.
He cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his composure. Caleb was usually as well composed as he was. Seeing him suddenly with his guard down, laughing without care or need to keep up usual appearances, it was strange. But not unwelcome. “It was definitely… different.”
“Yeah, he’s so serious all the time. It’s nice making him laugh like that.” She smirked.
Oh, she had definitely noticed his face flushing earlier, there was no doubt that her mischievous gaze was analyzing him that whole time. He tried sipping from the cup again to calm himself.
“You know,” she continued, “I bet you could try it out yourself.”
He nearly spat out his tea, catching himself right before it could go down the wrong pipe.
“Ooooo, I bet he would totally love it! You know, he absolutely loves when we do it, he never fights it or tells us to stop. We usually do it when he’s feeling nervous.”
When was the last time he engaged in tickling? It must have been decades, the only memories coming to mind being from his youth with his brother, even then the memories were few and far between. No, their relationship, though becoming more casual, still remained somewhat professional. What would Caleb think if Essek were to break that persona he’d built up after all this time, suddenly behaving so childishly? It would destroy any respect he had for him. The fact that he was even considering such a thing was ludicrous.
Her eyebrows raised suggestively. “You know, he’s probably even more nervous to be alone in a room with you now. It could help…”
“If you don’t mind, we have a lesson to get to,” Essek brushed his clothes off as he floated off the ground, bringing his cup with him.
“You should totally do it!” She called after him, though he was already out the door.
As fast as his magic allowed him, he floated to Caleb’s room, where they usually held their lessons to avoid any distractions (mostly Jester).
He shut the door behind him before he turned to Caleb, already with notes out on his writing desk and books opened. He was always prepared for whatever lessons Essek would throw at him, but today he shifted awkwardly in his chair, not quite sure where to put his hands or where to look.
Essek cleared his throat. “So, shall we?” He asked, using mage hand to pull a chair next to him before taking a seat.
He tried to get through an introduction, but found himself distracted every time he tried to look Caleb in the eyes to see if he was following. Each time he did, his mind flashed back to earlier, when that face was alight with the widest smile he’d ever seen on him. His face flushed each time, and he decided to just look down at the books and references he had out.
Caleb usually followed just fine, but he seemed a bit distracted as well. He gave grunts and little nods to show that he was listening, but no verbal confirmation. Every time he looked over and met Essek’s gaze, he quickly averted his eyes. It was evident that neither of them were in the state of mind to give or receive a lesson.
Essek put a hand to his head, rubbing at the temple trying to get himself together. Perhaps it would be best if they postponed the lesson-
“I apologize about before.” Caleb blurted out. “Before the lesson I mean. We were goofing off, and it was unprofessional, and I did not mean for you to, ah, to keep you waiting.” His apology seemed to spill out faster as he rambled on. “And I- I hope you do not think of me any less. Less than capable.”
It took a lot to stun Essek, and this was a rare moment that he was taken aback. “Think less of you? Is that really what you're worried about?”
Caleb lowered his head, afraid his embarrassment would be obvious if he could see his expression.
“Mr. Widowghast, I’ve seen you do extraordinary things. You have faced dragons, faced leaders of nations, learned magic far faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, and taken to dunamancy like it’s second nature to you. You are nothing if not capable.” He found himself unable to stop his stream of praise, only just catching himself as he thought about the other things he loved about him. “What would make you think I thought any less of you?”
Caleb’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected, sincere praise. “It’s just, this lesson, it has been tense.” He sighed in relief, addressing the elephant in the room. “I suppose that is mostly my fault though. I have not let many people close enough to see me like… that. I suppose my imagination made me feel like you saw me differently.”
Guilt washed over Essek, realizing that either Caleb was more perceptive than he thought, or he hadn’t been keeping as straight a face as he hoped he had. Jester’s words echoed in his mind, ‘he’s probably even more nervous to be alone in a room with you.’ Has his behavior affected Caleb that much?
“I apologize, Mr. Widowgast,” he admitted, “I didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort, I was just… surprised I suppose. I cannot say I’ve been around many people who, ah, act so carefree with each other.” Not to mention he had never seen Caleb laugh so freely before, but there was only so much information he was willing to admit.
“Ah. I see.” Caleb smiled. “Even I have not gotten entirely used to everything our little group throws at me. Especially the more mischievous ones.”
That small smile brought Essek’s eyes back on him. Gentle and sincere, but it had him craving more of it. Jester's words of advice, and temptation, rang through his head. ‘You should totally do it!’ It was selfish, he knew, but he felt restless just looking at it. He needed to see that bright, wide grin again. But he couldn’t risk losing Caleb’s trust.
That’s when another piece of advice played through his head. What was it Jester had said earlier? ‘We sometimes have to get him to let go and not think for a while.’ He’d definitely been distracted throughout the lesson as well, lost in his own thoughts and doubts. That could be his ticket.
“You still seem to be awfully tense,” he commented.
Caleb chuckled nervously. “I assure you I’m fine.” He still couldn’t make eye contact with the shadowhand. It was plain as day that there were lingering doubts remaining.
“Your friend mentioned something interesting.” He tried to bring it up naturally. “Apparently this silly activity of yours helps you to relax a bit.”
Caleb’s face was starting to match his hair. “I, um, they sometimes try it.”
“Does it work?”
“It can- I mean it’s, ah, you see the release of endorphins through-“ He continued his overly complicated explanation of how laughter causes one to feel happier, but Essek could only analyze his face and body language. He was closed in, as if protecting himself, all while his eyes were pointed strictly at the ground, but as he fiddled his hands it was clear there was a nervous excitement there. The lengthy explanation was a deflection, there was more to it than just an artificial way to boost his mood. Everything Jester had mentioned earlier, how he always got flushed and embarrassed when people brought up tickling him, he was shy about it.
And Essek needed to know more. He had to see his face scrunched up in an uncontrolled grin as he shook with laughter. It reminded him of when he first witnessed dunamantic magic being cast, the desire to know how it worked, a draw to the source of the power, wanting to know how it felt conjuring it with his own hands. He wanted to study Caleb just as thoroughly.
But if he wanted to conduct this experiment, he would need to be somewhat subtle.
“You know,” Essek interrupted, “I have never extensively studied the subject. Your explanation is fascinating, but surely you would understand that I prefer to do my own research?” Perhaps Jester’s mischievous nature had rubbed off on him a bit, because the way Caleb’s face lit up in surprise sent a certain thrill through him.
“I-I understand you are a curious individual.” Caleb finally managed through his flustered state, only half believing that this wasn’t some sort of dream. That he’d fallen asleep during the lesson and his desires had created a fantasy he was living.
“Then perhaps we can help each other. You can relax well in my presence, and I can satiate my curiosity.”
Caleb’s eyes widened as reality shook him. This was really happening.
His friends he could handle tickling him. Time with them had lowered his barriers, freeing his playful side that didn’t mind being seen as silly or unprofessional, but Essek was different. Sure, they were allies, and his trust in Essek had been slowly growing over the time he’d known him, but there was something about him that kept him on edge. He found himself analyzing every move he made around him, stared at his hands as he cast his magic, and any time he caught him staring he could feel his face flush. It felt like being a student at the academy again, watching his companions in admiration. Was it this admiration, or cautiousness that made him so anxious? Either way, the thought of Essek’s hands scribbling along his ribs made butterflies flutter in his stomach.
“Wait, Essek!” He tried to bargain as he scooted his chair further away, only succeeding at pinning himself closer to the wall, “Is this truly necessary?” He could already feel laughter beginning to bubble up in his belly as he grew more and more cornered, the feeling of inevitability taking over him.
“Oh, Mr. Widogast,” he chuckled, “you out of everyone should know how important hands-on experience is when it comes to the pursuit of knowledge.” He nudged his own chair over to him, close enough that he didn’t have to lean too far over to reach Caleb’s trembling frame.
Though he had little experience tickling anyone, his fingers had a sort of grace to them, similar to how he casted magic. The light, fluttering tips of his fingers found their way to Caleb’s sides, and the moment he felt them make contact the laughter started pouring over. He tried to hold it back, only being able to helplessly squirm in place while he brought his hands up to cover his mouth.
Ah, no real effort to get away, Essek noted. Not even so much as trying to get out of his seat, but enough self preservation to cover his most vulnerable targets, along with his smile.
Even with the protection of his clothes, Caleb’s nerves lit up with every brush. As he squirmed back and forth, Essek managed to find a spot where his shirt had ridden up, scribbling along the exposed skin near his hips as Caleb curled in on himself, trying his best to block the sensation while still holding his hands to his face.
“I’m starting to see why they had to hold your arms back,” Essek commented nonchalantly, a grin subtly growing.
“Scheiße!” Caleb snickered as he kicked his feet, already feeling his legs turn to jelly as ticklish shocks seemed to jolt his body.
Essek could feel his body twitch with every repressed snicker as he gently squeezed his sides. He tried shifting to his stomach, gently kneeling at the soft, vulnerable area, and the dam finally broke. Caleb giggled into his hands as he continued shielding his face. Not nearly the same level as the cackling Essek had heard from him earlier, but an entirely sweet, high pitched sound that danced its way to his ears. When he put a bit more pressure behind it, Caleb would kick his legs out and yelp in surprise.
Tickling him was like learning to play a new instrument, having to test the pressure and the rhythm of his fingers to get the best sounds. Essek wanted to learn them all, each technique that would bring forth more beautiful music.
In the meantime Caleb’s arms stubbornly remained where they were, keeping his book holsters in place to protect his ribs while still managing to turn his face away just enough to keep most of it covered.
Essek chucked in amusement, “This would be much easier if you moved your arms out of the way.” He poked around his under arms, wherever his fingers could sneak past under the careful guard. “Experiments need to be thoroughly detailed, no variable left unobserved.”
Caleb squeaked with each jab that came dangerously close to his most sensitive spots, fighting the urge to grab Essek’s hands just to get them to stop their torment.
“That should include taking notes,” he continued as he kept up the prodding. “A shame I don’t have any hands free. Perhaps, with that oh so keen mind of yours, you can recount the process from the beginning so I can create a journal entry.”
Caleb couldn’t tell if he was trying to tease intentionally or not, but Essek was a natural either way. He wasn’t sure what was worse: Jester's constant comments on his smile and laugh whenever she attacked him, or Essek’s nonchalant, analytical remarks.
“Ehehehehessek!” He whined through his hands, feeling like he would melt completely if Essek kept it up.
Essek froze for just a moment at the sound of his name. The sweet, light giggles were already so endearing, but the sound of Caleb giggling out his name? It was a melody. That itch to see his face, to hear him cackle and call out his name in a cacophony of laughter, it was near maddening.
The sudden stop was enough to throw Caleb off guard, just enough for him to relax slightly while he debated whether or not to open his eyes, fearful that if he made eye contact Essek would see right into his soul. That drop was all that Essek needed to shoot his hands under his holsters and start skittering across his ribs.
He thought Caleb’s scream from the living room had been loud, but now, right next to him with his fingers delicately teasing between his ribs, the sound was like an explosion.
“EHEHEHEHESSEK! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! BITTE!” The surprise from the sudden attack right after a moment of relief made for a perfect storm. His hands immediately lowered from his face to try and desperately grab at the offending hands, and Essek finally had his prize.
Caleb’s head was thrown back in a smile that looked like it could split his face, it was so wide, and only now did Essek notice that he had dimples that lined both cheeks. From under his hands, sweat had been beading on his brow and gave his face a shimmer from the reflecting room light, all while crumpling his hair into a tangled, damp mess on his forehead. His entire face had turned nearly the same shade of red as his hair, burning so warm that Essek could practically feel him radiating heat.
It was… beautiful.
As Caleb started taking deep, greedy gulps of air, Essek realized his hands had stopped moving. How long had he been staring like this? A few moments? Hours? It felt like time had frozen while he was looking at him, like what he’d always imagined it would feel like to stop time completely.
And with that, the realization of just how close he was pressed to Caleb dawned on him. He retreated his hands and scooted his seat back, horrified.
As he backed away, Caleb curled in on himself, holding his aching sides as he took deep breaths to sooth his remaining laughter. He looked at Essek with those squinted, teary eyes of his, and it was almost enough to make him think it was worth it.
Almost.
“M-My apologies,” he stuttered out, “I did not mean to- I mean I didn’t-“ Oh Luxon help him. How could he have taken things so far, gotten so physically close to an associate? The professionalism he strived for, torn down by something as childish as this. Had being around this group for so long clouded his judgement that much?
“That was,” Caleb paused, still wheezing between breaths. “Unexpected, to say the least.”
Essek debated whether he should just turn and run out the door, or maybe just teleport away. That would at least save him the embarrassment of having to explain himself.
“I must admit, I thought Jester would be the one to keep me on my toes. If I didn’t know better I would say she put you up to it.” His playful, accusatory tone helped to ease the rushing panic, but embarrassment still flooded Essek’s mind.
“She may have mentioned… something.” He confessed.
Caleb just chuckled. “She truly is a menace.”
Essek finally snapped out of his trance, holding a hand out to help Caleb up.
“I'm sorry, again.”
Caleb stared at the hand before taking it, a huff of air escaping him as he stood.
“No need for apologies, my friend.”
He was about to insist when a realization hit him. Caleb had called him “friend”. Not sir, not “shadowhand”, nor any other title, just simply friend. He wasn’t sure the last time someone had called him that, even less so the last time someone meant it. He had made friends.
“This is all just so... different,” he sighed. The casualness of his relationship with the nein, the lack of any decorum or need for professionalism, all the things he’d spent years perfecting, suddenly thrown out the window, all to see Caleb’s smile and hear his laugh again.
“I think I know what you mean.” Caleb shyly rubbed the back of his head. “I haven’t had people to rely on, friends to rely on, in years. It’s new, scary almost, to drop your guard. It has taken me a long time to let go of,” he hummed as he gestured to himself. “Keeping up appearances. It’s hard to do so when you're surrounded by friends like these.”
Essek chuckled at that. “They are rather persuasive.”
“Ha, that is putting it lightly.”
A sudden bang on the door startled them out of the moment.
“Ow!” A muffled yelp came from the other side of the door.
It slowly opened, and in walked Caduceus with a tray of tea and cookies. Jester had fallen to the ground, posed like she had been pressing her ear to the door, with Beau kneeling next to her.
“Hi,” Caduceus said, as casual as ever. “Thought I would bring that tea.”
He walked to the desk and put the tray down. “Feel free to join us in the living room.” And just as quickly, he headed out the door.
Jester rubbed her head, still giggling all the while.
“I didn’t think you would ACTUALLY do it!” She exclaimed.
Both Caleb and Essek’s faces flushed the same time.
“You’ve been spending too much time with us,” Beau added.
Essek sighed, inclined to agree with her.
“You guys should totally join us,” Jester smirked, “I don’t think you’ll be getting much studying done anyway.”
She giggled fondly as she turned to make her way back to the living room. Beau followed, only giving a knowing smirk before she took off.
Essek groaned into his hands. Perhaps he should have teleported away when he had the chance.
Okay, so I miiiight have a fic that has been simmering on the back burner for far too long. It's done, but it also has quite a few concepts that no one here has heard of except for @leefl00f (we've been exchanging headcanons and creature feature ideas for quite a while now), which is why I hesitate to actually share it.
It's switch!Shadow Milk, lee!Black Sapphire, post-corruption but pre-beast binding, hurt/comfort/shmilk not knowing how to be a dad, 3.4k words.
Curious if people would like me to actually release it, because I'd otherwise love to share my work with the masses, so let's do a bit of a challenge!
There are four (4) new creatures that require elaboration before I feel comfortable releasing the fic. For every twenty (20) notes this post gets, I'll release a Creature Feature. After they're all explained, I'll share the fic. At one hundred (100) notes, I'll share some extra non-required info/headcanons about a secret creature, plus some juicy angst :3c
I leave for camp in four (4) days, and I won't be back for another three (3) weeks. Have fun!
i don't even remember what i write in these pre-fic parts anymore JDHSJAK but basically i am so fucking obsessed w cr4 and i can't BELIEVE there's been nary a t-fic for it yet like pls come ON people i need to see so many different pairings and so many different set ups. this is only one of my ideas but it's really been rotating in my mind bc i am now certifiably obsessed w azune (altho he is still tied for 2nd place with tyranny, under thaisha for my #1 fave, but i am still obsessed w him lmaoo). hope y'all enjoy!
Hal had always been a morning person, an ironic fact for someone who often made his living working late into the night writing or performing. Honestly, he sometimes played up that part of his personality, waking the whole house with singing and throwing open the windows, solely because he knew it drove most of his family nuts-- even Thaisha, druid though she was, was often loathe to greet the morning sun without several thermoses full of caffeine to get her there. Still, Hal firmly believed in the fact that no matter your troubles in the evening, the morning would bring new energy, new opportunities, and a new attitude to help take on the new day.
Even now-- even after everything had gone completely and totally to shit-- there was a calmness to his mind upon waking that almost, for a moment, made the grief in his chest feel lighter. Of course it took barely a moment for the memories to slam back into his mind-- his brother gone, his friends and family potentially in danger at the hands of the Sundered Houses, and of course the entire damn play that his troupe was working furiously to put up in less than two weeks-- but Hal was no stranger to grief, and was not looking to become acquainted with hopeless despair, so he pushed through and got out of bed.
A noise toward the side of his room made him stiffen before he remembered who'd come home with him last night. There, lying on one of the old chaise lounges Hal kept in his bedroom-office for exactly this purpose, was one Azune Nayar, still wearing his clothes from yesterday but with his armor, boots, and weapons stacked neatly on the floor beside him. The angle of the windows was such that the morning sun hadn't yet fallen over his face as it had Hal's, so the younger man was still asleep. He wasn't a heavy sleeper, to Hal's knowledge, but the emotions he went through last night (on top of the events of the past few days) must've worn him out.
Well. Morning person or not, Hal knew better than to wake a kid who needed their sleep, so he took himself downstairs to continue putting his house back to normal after the throes of people who were in here just the other day for his brother's wake. He slid the wide doors to the dining room closed without looking inside; figuratively and literally, he couldn't cross that threshold right now.
He spent the better part of an hour cleaning, getting himself dressed, scribbling out notes for what he needed to do today at the theatre, and overall trying to keep himself busy until he heard the creaking of his office floor upstairs. The noise pushed him to grab a cup and a water pitcher, along with a jar of fizzy tablets that helped with headaches and hangovers, and he made his way back to his room just in time to see Azune sit upright, bleary and confused.
"Morning, kid," Hal said, trying to inject some levity into his voice. Azune didn't startle at Hal's entrance, but he did turn to him with wide, almost guilty eyes, his face drawn and shy.
"Good morning." Azune's voice was croaky, and he cleared it, almost self consciously. Hal took that as invitation to set the items on the small table next to him
"Water, and some medicine," he said, popping open the jar and nodding his head at Azune. "I know that old thing isn't as soft as it used to be."
Azune nodded, stretching his neck and rolling his shoulders almost without thinking. He reached for the water without complaint; Hal was happy he seemed to take the medicine as a salve for his sore muscles, and not for the pounding dehydration headache Hal was sure he had after crying so hard the night before.
"Thank you for letting me stay here," Azune said after he drank two cups of water (Hal made sure to refill it before he could say otherwise).
"Anytime. You'll always have a place to stay in this house."
Azune nodded again, slow and quiet. His eyes traveled across the room, seemingly taking in the reality of this unorthodox start to his day.
"What time is it?"
Hal leaned back to check out the sun's place in the sky. "Early enough. The market's opening soon."
That seemed to awake something in Azune, a reminder of his job as an Arcane Marshal following the newly imposed limits on magic in the marketplaces. "I should leave."
He stood up, briskly replacing his armor before Hal could say otherwise. He knew there was no use in arguing with his friend, not least of all because it was important for all of them in their little group to keep up appearance and go about their days as normally as possible.
"The day is yours, my friend," he replied, crossing his arms as he leant against the doorframe, "but I'll let you know that there's enough fruit downstairs to feed an improv troupe." It was true; the same source who got them such a great deal on fruit leather for the theatre concessions also had a few bushels of fresh fruit for Hal and the other theatre admins, as an extra thank-you for letting them sell their wares during the play. "If you can spare a minute, I'll get some ready for the road."
Of course, Azune's stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, making him flush slightly as Hal chuckled. He took another beat, refixing his ponytail and straightening his armor, before nodding. "That sounds... fine, Hal, thank you."
The two head downstairs, Hal quickly steering Azune in the path that would keep them farthest from the dining room. Azune stayed next to the doorway as Hal grabbed different fruits, testing their ripeness and checking Azune's preferences.
"Hal." Azune's voice sounded tight, making Hal whip his head up to see what was wrong, but all he saw was Azune looking mildly sheepish. "You don't have to do that."
Blinking, Hal looked at Azune in confusion before looking back down at his own hands. Old habits die hard, and with three (or four) kids' worth of experience under his belt, it was kind of funny how quickly his hands had started cutting the fruit into smaller chunks without even thinking about it.
"What, you don't like your apples sliced anymore?" he asked, not having to inject any false humor into his voice now. Azune huffed a laugh.
"I can slice my own apples, thank you." He reached for the fruit on the counter but was buffeted by Hal pushing his arm back.
"Uh uh, not on my watch. You sit down and let me get your lunch ready." He reached for a mango, expertly dicing the fruit and pretending he couldn't sense Azune's flustered state.
"Halandil, I don't need a packed lunch. I always eat at the Seven Stars, anyway."
"Uh huh," Hal said, grabbing a little leather pouch and sliding the prepared fruit into it. "Would you like some almonds, too? Or we have some shortbread cookies. Ah, I'll just get you both."
"Enough," Azune said, and the lightness in his voice distracted Hal just long enough for the leather satchel to be plucked from his grasp. Azune was smiling, still reserved but now more mischievous, as he wrapped the bag and put it on his waist. "Your generosity has been more than enough already."
"Who says?" Hal asked, and he slipped forward to maneuver his arm behind Azune, dumping a baggie of raspberries into his vestment. "Seriously, if you don't eat this food Shadia will probably make herself sick on it."
"Give it to your crew," Azune replied, and all of a sudden he and Hal were circling each other as Hal tried to force more and more food on Azune's person. "You have a lot of mouths to feed, there's no need to waste it all on me-- hey!"
Maybe it was the mildly ridiculous situation that they were in, but somehow Hal managed to feint a lunge in order to box Azune in the other way, now keeping him lightly pinned in the corner with his back against two counters. He took advantage of the position to dump fruit, nuts, crackers, and snacks into every pocket he could reach.
"Trust me, this is no great expense," Hal explained. His hands moved fast, keeping Azune guessing where he would strike next. "Bolaire's money alone will kept the troupe fed until the end of the run. You're in my kitchen now."
Azune wasn't quite laughing, but he was getting close to it. "Ha-al-- this is-- so not necessary--"
Alright, that's it. Without anymore buildup Hal reached out and squeezed a spot on Azune's side just below where his armor sat, and all of a sudden Azune's protests wheezed out of him in a strangled squawk. He lurched to the side, trying to grab the offending hand, so of course Hal took it upon himself to give the same treatment to the other side.
"Give it up, kid, you're taking the snacks," Hal teased, alternating his pinches and making Azune jerk back in forth, his body confused and overwhelmed in the face of this unorthodox attack. His chest bounced with quiet giggles.
"Hal-- Ha-al-- Hal," he chanted. It was like he didn't know what else to say.
"Yes, yes, yes?" Hal replied. He waited for Azune to open his mouth again before vibrating his fingers into his stomach, laughing loudly as the shocked giggles that escaped his mouth. "Sorry, kid, didn't catch that. My fault."
The tickles against the middle of his stomach seemed even worse for Azune, and he tried to bend forward at the waist to hide the tickle spot from Hal. His forehead knocked against Hal's shoulder, head and shoulders shaking and shimmying against the gentle yet persistent tickles. When he began to fall lower, Hal interjected with a cheerful, "Up you get!" before shoving his hands underneath Azune's arms, both to keep him upright and to tickle him harder.
"Hal!" Azune cried, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as he laughed up at the ceiling. He wrapped his hands around Hal's wrists, stomping his feet as Hal dug his twitching fingers deeper into his underarm. "Plehehease!"
"Oh, so polite, such manners," Hal cooed. If it were one of his other kids-- one of the ones who grew up with him and who were more receptive to his signs of affection-- he'd smother their cheeks with stubbly tickly kisses until they were squealing for release. He didn't know how that would make Azune feel, and after what he'd said last night-- "I think my dad would've been a lot like you"-- he didn't know if it was a good idea to go down that road again so early in the day. Still, he made sure to catch Azune's eye and send him a wide grin that made the other man's eyes squeeze shut again in embarrassment. "Now you just have to finish the sentence. Please what?"
"Plehease-- please--" Azune's laughter, like his normal voice, was still rather subdued; if it were Shadia in his position she'd be shrieking loud enough to wake the whole Rookery. He laughed like he wasn't used to it, but also like his body had just been waiting for the chance to feel like this again. In a way, this was also what drew Hal to the arts; culture and history and the chance to rewrite the narrative for once, of course, but also something as simple as making someone laugh.
"Please I'll take the fruit!" Azune squealed, which is when Hal figured he should let the kid breathe. He made sure Azune was at least upright on his feet, if not entirely stable, before letting him go; indeed the younger man stumbled just a bit upon release, rocking back against the counters as he caught his breath. His breathing was labored, but it only took a few measured breaths for him to get it under control. His arms refused to unwrap themselves from around his torso, however, and he eyed Hal somewhat nervously as his laughter trickled out.
Hal took a step back, raising his hands good-naturedly. "What a very good idea that is, Azune. Here."
He reached behind Azune, not bothering to hide his grin at the other man's flinch, before pulling back with a single orange that had been on the counter behind him. Azune watched, face still flushed, as Hal peeled the orange for him before placing it in his hand.
"For the road," Hal said amicably. He stepped away, leaning against the opposite counter as a parade of expressions passed across Azune's face before landing something close to gratitude.
"Thank you," he murmured, then looked up, cleared his throat and made (or attempted) direct eye contact with Hal. "Thank you."
Now it was Hal's turn to stare. The wide-eyed earnestness that shone out of every facet of Azune's being was almost too much, sometimes. He didn't know how his friend, this kid, who'd given so much and still wanted to do more, was able to keep that innocence despite all he'd been through. He didn't want it to ever go away.
(So I’m exhausted and I’ve been going through some ~family issues~ but I live and here’s a fic that I finished a couple of weeks ago. I’m still not doing too hot, so I don’t know if I’ll post anything else for a while, but I’m technically okay and I’ll probably still write on and off for the next few weeks. On a lighter note, I actually really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you all like it!)
Warning: This is a tickle fic, and I run a SFW tickle-themed blog. NSFW are more than welcome to read, but please do not reblog if you are primarily kink themed blog. Thank you for respecting my boundaries.
Fandom: Cookie Run: Ovenbreak (can apply to Kingdom as well)
Ship: Pre-romantic(?) Licorice x Herb
Characters: Lee!Licorice, Ler!Herb
Words: 3106
Potential Warnings: I see Dark Enchantress as a pos but she’s only talked about, not physically there; mentions of kidnapping (but once again, no action)
"Stupid Dark Enchantress, sending me on this dumb tracking mission…"
Licorice was not having a good day. His normally-respectable boss, Dark Enchantress, had called for him earlier that day. She said she had an "important mission" for him -- but he felt that any old subordinate could have pulled this off. He was meant to track down someone named Gingerbrave, as he had been in contact with some hero-types lately and could have some valuable information. A simple fetch quest -- how insulting. Licorice couldn't believe it! He'd shown so much dedication to the Enchantress, hoping that she would throw him a bone and treat him like a proper employee, and he'd put so much effort into even the smallest of assignments (though he often screwed up). But apparently, he just wasn't good enough.
Well, fine then. He didn't need her anyway! It's not like she would even notice if he quit.
But...for as much as he didn't want to say it, he did need Enchantress. She'd given him purpose, for as twisted as it was, and he needed to help her see all of her plans to fruition. That was the deal, and if he didn't complete his own duty, then he'd be regarded as a coward. He was at an impasse.
He thought for a moment as he walked, trudging his feet in the dirt. His adversary, Pomegranate, had received a much better quest than him -- she was going to spend the next week designing weapons and writing spells to make Enchantress' forces even stronger. Just thinking about it made Licorice green with envy. He could do impressive things, too! He just had to prove himself, and with the slim opportunities he was getting, he'd have to go above and beyond.
What if, instead of simply interrogating this Gingerbrave guy, he kidnapped him instead? Then he'd bring him back to Enchantress, and she would not only be proud of Licorice's accomplishment, but she'd also have a potential new underling. If anything, that would put Licorice above someone else, and he'd get closer to being Enchantress' favorite! The sorcerer snickered deviously -- all part of his master plan. That'd show all of them! He felt powerful just thinking about it.
That is, until he tripped and tumbled into someone's garden.
"Agh! What the--?!" Licorice growled with annoyance, muttering curses to himself while trying to stand. Unfortunately, whatever kind of plants these were had long and thick vines, and the more he struggled, the more tangled he became. "What kind of maniac grows something so frustrating?!"
"Oh, my goodness, are you alright?" a sweet voice called out. Licorice flinched and looked up, making eye contact with a young and adorable gardener.
He was very sweet-looking -- that was the first thing that Licorice noticed. His hair was soft and a light green color, and he had a tan skin tone. His clothes were simplistic and modest, and he was slightly covered in dirt. He looked concerned, and Licorice realized that he must have stumbled into this person's garden in particular. "So this one is responsible for these stupid vines," Licorice thought.
"Yeah, I'm...fine." His response wasn't convincing in the slightest, but what else was he supposed to say? "I just...fell and got stuck, I guess. Stupid things..."
"Do you want some help?" the gardener asked, holding his hand out kindly. Licorice sneered.
"I'm fine," the sorcerer repeated, struggling but remaining tangled. "I can handle it. But while you're here, do you know anything about a guy named Gingerbrave?"
The plant lover did not respond right away. He stared at Licorice, clearly studying him and trying to figure out his motive. Licorice glared back -- he knew this soft boy probably wasn't going to tell him anything, but it was worth a shot. What could go wrong?
"I...don't know much about who you speak of," the gardener answered finally, "but I might be able to point you in the right direction. Just let me help you get free, first."
Licorice rolled his eyes impatiently. "Fine. Make it quick, alright?"
The kind man nodded and knelt down, working to gently untangle the vines. "My name's Herb, by the way. What's yours?"
"None of your business," the sorcerer grumbled rudely, tapping his foot and letting Herb do what he needed to. This wasn't a horrible setback, but it was still a waste of time, and this made Licorice angry. The sooner he got out of this jungle that could barely be called a garden, the better. He had an evil plan to put into motion, and being slowed down wasn't helping him at all.
"Ah, hold on, there's a really big knot right here...might take a little while," Herb pointed out.
Licorice groaned. "Why don't you just get some shears and-- AAH!" The spellcaster jerked in surprise at the very sudden feeling of fingers on his rib cage. They weaved underneath the vines and wiggled around, making him clear his throat and look away. "L-look, just hurry up!"
"Of course. I'm going as fast as I can without hurting you or my plants," Herb explained, continuing to prod around Licorice's torso and make him twitch with suppressed mirth and embarrassment.
There was no "big knot," really. Just one small vine curled around Licorice's torso. It could be undone easily, if Herb found the end of it. But, of course, Licorice didn't need to know that. He was clearly up to no good, with the way he'd been muttering and sneaking around before tripping into Herb's precious garden, and then he'd asked about Gingerbrave. Herb was a generally trusting person, but he wasn't stupid, and he'd never sell out one of his friends. So for now, he'd distract this mysterious stranger, and then he'd send him on his way.
Apparently, though, his "untangling" method was yielding some interesting results.
Licorice was trying to cover up his reactions, and he was failing miserably. He wasn't laughing (yet), but he was still flinching at every little poke that Herb gave to his torso. He bit his lower lip in an effort to hide a growing smile.
"Are you okay there?" Herb asked after a few moments. His voice was kind, but with a slight air of amusement to it -- it made Licorice's ears go red.
"I-I'm fine!" the sorcerer snapped, though it sounded more like a squawk in execution. He tugged at the vines on his wrist -- Herb hadn't undone them yet, and he was still stuck.
"You've been saying that a lot, and I'm starting to think it's not true," Herb hummed, deciding to use Licorice's nerves to his advantage. The gardener started by poking more strategically, testing the waters -- he first counted a few ribs, and then he went in between them for good measure. Then he walked his fingers up and down Licorice's side. The smothered giggles were absolutely worth it.
"Y-yohou're doing that on puhurpose!" Licorice whined, trying to seem annoyed. Herb simply chuckled at him.
"I don't really know what you're talking about -- of course I'm purposefully trying to untangle these vines." Feeling a little more playful, Herb gave a few soft pokes to Licorice's underarms (this earned a not-so-quiet squeak), and then he went a bit rougher by tweaking Licorice's lowest rib.
"GAHA--" Half of a cackle escaped the sorcerer before he clamped his mouth shut out of embarrassment. Herb smiled at him sweetly.
"What's so funny?"
"N-nothing!" Licorice blurted, looking away from the gardener and wishing that he could hide the smile that he was failing to force down. He had to make it through this -- he was not going to be humiliated by some simple, random man that he had stumbled across on this stupid mission.
"Nothing?" Herb confirmed with a soft chuckle. "But you laughed."
"I did not," Licorice responded indignantly, having a sort of 'how dare you' tone. "I'm a sorcerer, and a powerful one too. Dark sorcerers don't laugh."
"Oh, really?~"
At the sudden mischievous tone, Licorice went bright red and gulped. He'd made a challenge, he realized, and that would likely be the death of him. He didn't get another chance to protest before Herb started kneading at his stomach, making him break out into surprised guffaws.
"BAHAHA, WAHAHAHAIHIHIT! NAHAHAHA!"
Herb smirked slightly, still kneading gently as well as he could through Licorice's cloak. It didn't really seem to protect the sorcerer much, though -- he was already cackling, and Herb couldn't tell if it was from the tickling itself or the built-up tension.
"GEHEHET OHOFF OF MEHEHE!" Licorice protested, kicking his legs and reaching to try and pull his hood over his face. Why, of all things, did it have to be this?! It didn't hurt him, physically or mentally, but it was embarrassing -- his laugh was loud and he hated it, and he was more ticklish than he'd ever care to admit. He couldn't tell what was worse -- the idea of any of his coworkers finding out about this, or having this weakness exploited by a random cute guy.
"But why should I? I'm helping," Herb teased. The growl that Licorice tried to respond with lost its thunder as it was swallowed up in his laughter. He started to object and declare that he was not, in fact, helping -- but then he noticed that the gardener had started kneading with only one hand, and he was moving the vines around Licorice's legs. Of course. The sorcerer pouted a bit, trying to regain his composure and squirming away from Herb's ticklish touch.
After a little while, the kneading stopped, allowing Licorice to catch his breath. He whispered a few not-so-subtle curse words, and he eyed Herb carefully as the other worked around his calves and thighs.
"Are you doing okay there?" Herb asked, looking up and meeting Licorice's gaze. His expression was genuine, and the sorcerer could only respond by averting his gaze with a flustered grumble. Herb chuckled a little. "Alright, good."
The gardener began working to unwind a rather thick vine, which was curled around Licorice's thighs and knotted with other vines in some places. This one was going to take a while. Herb sighed and started by untangling the knots -- they were all tight and close to Licorice's legs, so they were hard to work with.
But as he worked, his fingers brushing against Licorice's legs, the sorcerer flinched at each little touch. He glared at Herb, but this proved to be a bluff as his shy smile began to creep its way back onto his face. "Cahan you go any faster?!" Licorice snapped in an effort to hide his rising giggles.
Herb didn't seem to be threatened, and he instead raised an eyebrow at Licorice with a teasing smile. "Don't tell me you're ticklish here, too."
The sorcerer's face had to be completely red at this point. "I'm n-nohot!" he huffed, jerking his legs away. His heart skipped a beat when Herb grabbed them back and clawed gently at the tops of his thighs. "W-wahahahait! Thahat's nohot fahahahair!"
Herb giggled a little to himself, clearly enjoying this. He continued to work at the knots, but he would periodically pause to scribble at Licorice's sensitive legs, keeping the poor sorcerer in stitches. Though his laugh was much less loud here, his thighs were a worse spot than his stomach (and he was grateful for Herb remaining gentle this time). And even though it was quieter, his laugh was still humiliating. Thankfully, Dark Enchantress and Pomegranate had never seen him like this -- he didn’t know what he’d do if that happened.
"You're adorable," Herb murmured, not realizing he'd said it out loud. Licorice just about died, sputtering and staring at Herb indignantly. ADORABLE?! He was not adorable! How dare this random gardener call him that?!
"E-excuse you?!" he retorted. "I am not adorahahaAHAHA WAHAHIT WAHAIT NOHOHO!" The sorcerer was cut off by sudden clawing at his ribs, another one of his bad spots. "YOHOHOUHU--!"
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Herb asked nonchalantly, unable to hide his smile as he went up and down Licorice’s rib cage. He wiggled his fingers in the spaces in between the ribs, making Licorice throw his head back with laughter, and then he began to count from the top ribs down to the bottom, one by one. It drove the sorcerer absolutely mad.
“CUHUHUT TH-THAHAT OHOHOUT!” he whined, trying not to lose himself in the mirth. He couldn’t stand this! A random cute boy, whose garden he had fallen into, was somewhat trying to help him, smiling at him sweetly, and tickling him to the point of tears. Was he dreaming? That was the only possible explanation for something that was so humiliating.
“Oh, I will! And I’ll get you free pretty soon, don’t worry,” Herb said reassuringly, patting Licorice’s head with one hand and thoroughly confusing him. “But I’m enjoying myself right now -- it’s not every day that I get an adorable stranger tangled in my plants -- and you seem to be enjoying this yourself, too!”
What?! Impossible. There was no way that Licorice was enjoying this! It was far too demeaning to be likeable in any way...wasn’t it? It wasn’t like Licorice was...leaning into the touch, or...wishing it would never end...
It wasn’t often that he got much affection anymore. He got along with a few of his coworkers, his fellow servants of Dark Enchantress, but the others made his life increasingly difficult. He and Pomegranate didn’t talk to each other if they didn’t have to, and both of them were fine with that arrangement. And as for Enchantress herself, she was very...authoritarian. Licorice was devoted to her, yes, but that didn’t make her any less annoying when she assigned him stupid missions like this or repremanded him for little things. But that was fine -- she was an evil overlord, and that was her job. He was fine with that. He could live like that.
Right?
His thoughts were rudely interrupted as Herb brought his hands down, squeezing at Licorice’s sides and then at his hips. This made the sorcerer squeal and buck before breaking into an endless string of giggling. “W-wahahait! N-nohohot th-theheheherehee! Heheherb!”
Herb melted at the adorable tittering, and he was absolutely enamored with Licorice’s giddy smile and rose-colored blush. He continuously switched between squeezing and clawing for Licorice’s hips to keep the giggles coming, and his efforts rewarded him with a few snorts. “You’re so cute!~” he cooed, smiling down at the sorcerer (who whined at him in response).
“Nahahahat cuhuhute! Nohohoho! Ehehehehe!” Licorice forgot about struggling and began to worry only about hiding his face -- he was so embarrassed that he thought his heart was going to explode. Herb had discovered all three of his worst spots (right after the other, no less), and he was still tangled in those dumb vines that were keeping him there. He didn’t know what to do, and he’d given up fighting back his laughter, so he decided to just sit there and take it. It wasn’t like he minded much, anyhow.
“Well, I think you are!” Herb argued back with a smile, slowing to a stop. Licorice was starting to hiccup, and Herb didn’t want to go past his limit. Once he stopped, he let the sorcerer catch his breath and went back to working at the vines. There wasn’t much left -- just the ones around his arms now.
It didn’t take long for Herb to finally untangle the last few vines, and he slipped them off with ease. Licorice was still catching his breath with a few stray giggles escaping now and then, so the gardener ran off quickly to fetch a bottle of water. When he returned, Licorice was a bit more stable, and he took the bottle gratefully. He drank quite a bit before stopping and looking up at Herb.
“W-what...the hell...was that for?” he managed to ask. Herb smiled at him and patted his head again.
“Well, like I said, I don’t get many cute strangers around here anymore,” the gardener explained, earning a quiet embarrassed groan. “But also, I saw the way you were sulking earlier, all angry and mumbly. They say laughter’s the best medicine, so I thought I’d try to cheer you up while untangling you!”
Licorice was quiet for a few moments. Cheer him up? Why? Perhaps it was better not to ask and just accept it. He tugged his hood lower in one final effort to hide his shyness.
“T-thanks, or...whatever. Now can you give me some directions?” he asked impatiently. He wanted to complete his mission quickly.
“Oh, of course!” Herb stood up, helped Licorice to his feet, and then pointed off in the distance (which was the completely wrong direction, but once again, Licorice didn’t need to know that). “You’re gonna want to go that way, as far as you can reach. I’m not sure if the guy I’m thinking of is who you’re looking for, but that’s what I remember.”
The sorcerer rolled his eyes. “Alright. I’ll be on my way then.” He started to leave, then paused. “Maybe I’ll...see you again on my way back.”
Herb chuckled a bit. “Let’s hope you don’t get tangled up in my garden again if you come back. Safe travels!” He waved as Licorice began to leave, content, but also hoping that his friends would be safe.
Licorice walked onwards. He was still jittery from the encounter, and he was watching his footing a lot more closely now, but he was...oddly calmer. He was in less of a ranting mood, and he was much less tense than he had been earlier in the day. Maybe the encounter was a good thing for him -- but of course, he’d never admit that to anyone. He tried to get his head back in mission-mode, but it was hard when all he could think about was Herb’s teasing and that stupid, sweet smile of his. What gave him the right to be so cute, anyhow?!
The sorcerer sighed and continued to think on the matter. He likely wouldn’t be able to find this dumb Gingerbrave person, and even if he did, he’d likely fail in capturing him or getting any information -- he always failed, even when he tried his hardest. A crippling defeat would make Enchantress even more disappointed in him, and he already knew that he wouldn’t want to return to her for a couple of days. He’d need some way to relax, detense, unwind.
Maybe he would stumble into Herb’s garden again on his way back. On accident, of course. He wouldn’t mind.
could a gal get some Widowmauk (with or without a little Essek in there) for 7, “No way, you’re ticklish here too?” 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Prompt 7 - "No way, you're ticklish here too?"
A/N: a gal can indeed! everything is better with a little Essek ;)
…
“No way, you’re ticklish here too?” Molly observes, smiling as he flicks a finger over Caleb’s ear and the wizard flinches in response.
“Ja, hehe, cut it out.” Caleb protests half-heartedly, swatting aimlessly over at the tiefling.
“I thought ticklish ears were reserved for our gorgeous little drow.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Mollymauk. Have we tried yours?”
“Ha, me?” Molly says nonchalantly.
“Yes, you.” Caleb snickers before twisting and reaching up to grab at Molly’s shoulder and horns. He wrestles them around laughing until he somehow ends up on top of the purple tiefling, holding his head to the side with one horn firmly in his grip.
They’re both laughing, Molly putting up a token struggle as Caleb leans in to blow on Mollymauk’s ear.
Molly squeaks, trying to curl into his shoulder but blocked by Caleb’s hold on his horn. Caleb uses his other hand to flutter along the shell of Molly’s ear and he squeals, falling into sweet, hiccuping laughter.
“Ah! Eheehee- Cahahahaleb! Hahah!”
“See? You’re ticklish here too.” Caleb informs his giggling puddle of a companion.
By the time Essek makes it upstairs with the tea, Molly is curled into a flailing little ball, his tail lashing weakly against the bed.
“Good morning, Liebchen, our friend here was being a little meddlesome this morning…so.” Caleb smiles sweetly as Essek enters.
“I see.” Essek sets down the tray of tea. “Would you like some help?”
64 with ler Fjord & either Caleb or Molly? 🥺 dealers choice, but as soon as I saw that one I immediately thought of Fjord being a bully
Prompt 64 - “Relax, I’m not gonna kill ya, I’m just gonna make you wish you were dead.”
A/N: i love this for fjord. OMG. also, so… there’s this 6k ler!fjord lee!molly slightly fjolly decently mean interrogation fic im working on for tickletober and this line fit into it reaaaally well for a part where molly is in the stocks and… well… consider this my fic preview hehe (I’ll tag it here eventually when it’s posted in oct.)
,,,
“EheheHEHEHEHEEHEE- YOHOHOU’RE KILLIN’ MEEHEHEHEHE!” Molly whines through frantic laughter.
“Oh relax, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not gonna kill you.” Fjord speaks calmly, as though soothing a child. “I’m just gonna make you really, really wish you were dead.” His voice is sweet as the words drip out like honey, and Molly shivers from more than just the tickling sensations lighting up his soles.
“PFFFAHHAAHFUCK!” Molly cries — both in the sense of crying out aloud during his cackling, and in the other—more literal—sense, as tears bleed into the cloth tied over his eyes. He clasps and unclasps his fingers. He presses deeply into the seat and strains uselessly against the stocks — all for nothing. His laughter rings out boisterously as Fjord continues to scrub the brush up and down his foot, then switch to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. Overwhelming, but never enough to get desensitized to in any one place.
“PLEHEEHHEEASE!” Molly shrieks.
“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Fjord snickers, looking up from his feet to take in Mollymauk’s squirming, desperate form.
“Don’t knohohohHOOW! I dohOHON’T know wHERE—” Molly babbles incoherently, still trying to bargain with his captor.
“You don’t know where your attitude went?” Fjord laughs, pulling the brush away from his soles for the first time in far, far too long.
Molly heaves in deep, shaky breaths. “I- heh- I… What?”
Fjord hums, sounding amused. They sit in the ‘silence’ of Molly deliriously catching his breath.
“Maybe I should believe you…” Fjord says after a little time passes and Molly sounds less frenetic.
Molly tries to give his best hopeful, honest smile. It’s hard without the eyes.
Molly picks up the sound of Fjord getting up from his seat, a little relief washes over him.
Then the brush is back, and Mollymauk is wailing out a surprised bark of laughter. “WAITHAHAHA— WAIT!”
“But, on the other hand..” Fjord sighs, bringing his other hand to tickle along the sole of Molly’s right foot as he brushes up and down his left. Mollymauk almost wishes for a gag with how loudly he shouts and shrieks through desperate laughter. The hand and brush switch. They switch back a little while later.
“Hmm.” Fjord says, stopping again after a few minutes. “What do you think?”
“I thihihink I am going to die here.” Molly whimpers, smiling defeatedly.
“Not if you tell me the truth.”
“I am telling yohohohou the truth.”
“Well, I have to make sure you’re not lying.” Fjord says, and then the terrible brushing starts up again.
“Whyhyhyhyhy would I still behehehe lying- hehee?! Plehehehehease!” Molly argues as much as he can get out as he’s laughing.
“You tell me.” Fjord replies, not letting up. “Maybe you’re just a masochist.”
Molly definitely does not hate being on the receiving end of an evening like this, it’s true. He would take a moment to consider that if he had a brain cell that could focus on anything other than the incessant scrubbing of the hairbrush along his soles. It scrapes across the balls, the arches, the heel, up and down, up and down, over and over. The slick oily liquid covering his feet lets it glide with almost no resistance. All tickles, no resistance — yeah, Molly is probably going to die here.
He’s wheezing by the time Fjord stops again. He hesitates, half-pleading through his laughter, wondering when it’s going to start up again.
It doesn’t… And Fjord doesn’t say anything.
It still doesn’t… And then, finally, Fjord’s pulling down the blindfold. “Hey, there.”
Molly’s eyes adjust weakly to the light, the blindfold is damp with his tears. He mutters some kind of reply before closing his eyes again. “Fjord…”
“Mollymauk.” Fjord says, leaving the blindfold down around his neck and standing back up.
Can I request either 12 or 14 (dealers choice) for critical role?? lee!caleb and ler!mollymauk if you would be ever so kind :D
P.S. I'm literally in love with your writing it's SO GOOD I read e erything you write, including stuff in fandoms I'm not I'm which I don't normally do <3
Prompt 12 - "So, what's this I hear about you being deathly ticklish?"
Prompt 14 - "Well, well, well... Look what we have here."
A/N: thank you so much you're so sweet!!!!! this is such a high compliment! I appreciate you! and yes yes yes of course you may, and in fact, I’ll do both! (also.. it’s my half birthday today.. six months left of my twenties…. dang!) - longish so under a rm
…
“So, what’s this I hear about you being deathly ticklish?”
Caleb balks. “You- you heard what? From- from who?!”
Mollymauk grins, fixing him with his gaze. “That sounds a lit-tle too frantic for it not to be true..”
“Nein- Mollymauk..” Caleb gets up, taking a few steps back in retreat. “There’s no need for you to do such foolish- no no no get away from mehehe!” He starts to giggle as Molly pursues him with a saunter and a smirk.
“Sorry dear, but this is one of those threads I just have to tug.” The tiefling offers in a consoling tone, gaining on him. Caleb takes off into a full on sprint off to his room. Molly chirps excitedly, surprised by the voracity with which the wizard is trying to escape. Must be quite ticklish indeed. He jogs off after him, still determined.
Caleb slams the door to his tower room behind him. What was he thinking? Was Molly still following him? How was this going to end? Did he have a chance of getting out of it? Who told him? Was he on his way here now? If he is, what’s he going to do? If he is stopped now, when is he going to bring it up again? Surely this won’t be the end of it, will it? Caleb’s mind swirls with questions. He shuffles over to the bed, not bothering to lock the door, and waits.
Less than a minute passes and there’s an animated knock on the door. “Oh Caleb!” The familiar voices of Mollymauk greets him from the other side. “Open up, we weren’t done talking earlier.”
Molly tries the handle and is surprised to find it opens. He peeks into the room, still smiling. “Well, well, well, look what we have here. No magical locks, I see.. or any for that matter?” Molly opens the door a little wider, straightening up. “Why’d you run off so quickly? We have much to discuss, you see.” He steps into the room when he sees no sign of Caleb stopping him or shouting at him to leave.
Caleb’s cheeks are red as he draws his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees defensively. “I’d- I’d be happy to sit and talk with you about anything else.” Caleb offers.
“No, no, see, I’m rather curious about that reaction you had back there.” Molly grins. “And well, what can I say, you’ve rubbed off on me.” He winks at the wizard, approaching the end of the bed and wiggling his fingers menacingly. “And you know how you get when you’re curious.”
Caleb gulps, backing himself against the headboard with a poorly hidden smile. Whoever his source, Mollymauk was right, unfortunately. Caleb was indeed deathly ticklish. And it doesn’t look like he’s getting out of this unscathed.
Caleb balls up, clenching his arms to his sides in a giddy wave of fear. “Waitwaitwaitwait-”
Molly climbs across the bed, looms over him. They’re close in stature, but right now, the tiefling seems to eclipse him. “No more waiting.” He lilts, and brings his hands forward to gently ‘crack an egg’ on each kneecap.
“Nnn- ahhh!” Caleb’s breath catches as he wiggles to readjust and tries to move his knees away from Molly. But, there’s not really anywhere to go now. His legs shift to his right side and there’s a sudden hand on his left flank. He shouts, biting his cheek to hold in a laugh. “Molll-eeeehe, bitte! Please!”
“This is absolutely delightful. Can’t stop just yet.” Molly sounds practically reverent as he leans in closer, inspecting Caleb’s smile and scrunched eyes. Caleb blushes further. Hands creep along to his stomach, and he kicks out on instinct. Molly catches one leg, then the other. He shuffles about, forcing them flat so that he can sit over Caleb’s lap, making Caleb’s face turn an unhealthy shade of red.
“Now, now, I’ll be gentle. Relax, ticklish.” Molly teases in a dismissive tone.
Caleb feels so embarrassed and giddy and stupid that he thinks perhaps his head might explode. He doesn’t even have time to plead as Molly starts tickling up and down his sides, starting low at his hips and working his way up. Caleb’s slapping, flailing hands do little to nothing to deter him, except maybe entertain him with their pathetic dance. He can’t hold it in anymore, he knows, especially when Mollymauk makes it to the base of his ribs and starts tickling up, up, up. Caleb bursts, cackling laughter falling from his lips as he falls to the side of his bed, making a grab for a pillow to muffle himself in.
“Your laugh!” Mollymauk coos. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh proper. It’s lovely. I’d love to hear it more.” He laughs himself, then. “I suppose I can make that happen, now.”
