OK ABOUT TIME I made these!! Shush I was...busy lol Anyway tk charts for the Vi-5 <3 My little germs hehe I actually wrote down notes on them a while back but I can't...find them lmao so I had to wing it. Also because there's five of them I'm not gonna do lee and ler for each, I'm just gonna give general tk hcs for them :3c
All info under the cut!
Mathers (Eliot)
Ler-leaning-slightly-a-switch lol
Mostly only a big ler to Dalton but will definitely wreck his buddies too when the urge arises
Bastard!!! Pure bastard when he gets you. Strong as hell so he can easily pin everyone down including Dalton (OK maybe not E but E kinda folds if you get him so it counts lmao)
Teasy af and takes his time mapping out the worst spots
Pray if he finds your worst spot cause he's gonna focus on it lol
"Aw, you're cute when you squirm~" Fcking-!!!!!!!
Tables can be turned on him pretty easy, his thighs make him shriek
Loves to wrestle and playfight! You will lose though!!
In the rare times Dalton gets the upper hand it's very cute to see him lose his cool :3c
"Fuhahahack ok you had your fun stahahahap!"
Has a foot fetish (or it's just that he really, really likes Dalton's monster peets in particular, who knows at this point lmao) but ticklish feet are very very in danger around him lol
"You're waaaay too ticklish to be talking like that"
Ivan
Lee-leaning-switch group stress ball
Jumpy af if you mention tickling around him omg he can't handle it
Wiggling ur fingers at him makes him burst into giggles and try to run away he's so cute
Gets ganged up on by the group a lot (second only to Dalton lol)
It's a really fun activity for him but he will beg and plead (it's a farce he doesn't want you to stop hehe)
Will usually only tickle the others if one is being ganged up on by them, gotta help the homies!!
Poking at his navel will make him scream its cute do it do it!!!
Somehow knows everyone's worst spots and will hone in on them
Has a really cute squealy, giggly laugh if you get her belly!!
Will retaliate tenfold if you tickle her first so be warned
Finds tickling to be so so cute
Loves sneaking up (especially on Dalton) on her 'targets' with her long arms and tasing their sides to make them jump
"Wow you're like concerningly ticklish damn"
Roman
Definitely-not-a-switch-ler-leaning-switch
Acts like tickling is beneath him but has a soft spot for his buddies
Actually has a really cute, charming wheezy laugh and tends to snort if you get his worst spots. But don't tell him that, he'll get maaad lol
Much like Dalton cannot handle people touching his feets
Harder tickles work the best on him
Is RUTHLESS in tickle fights, goes for the kill immediately if he knows the lee's worst spot
If it's by people he likes, he really doesn't mind at all being tickled, but will bite and hiss and scratch if it's someone he's not close with or even hates
"Damn, that's a lot of words to say 'Please tickle me'"
E
Super-soft-mostly-lee-leaning-switch
Despite his size and strength, turns to putty when tickled and will not fight back in the slightest for fear of hurting his lers
Very gentle in both giving and receiving
LOVES being tickled actually to the point of shyly asking for it
It makes him feel loved and he thinks its super fun
Feather ticklish!!
Never pushes boundaries and always checks to make sure his lee is ok
"Ah, kind of odd question but...can you do that again? Please?"
hello…. just finished playing oath and oughhhhh… i'm sooo normal about this i'm so so so normal what the hell did you inject into this ouh oughhh elera… my queen, my monarch, my leige wait for me i will find you 😭
thank you!!
and, of course, know that E would never give up on you. whatever the circumstances, whatever the complications, so long as you want them to, they would wait for you.
thanks for the tag @thylocalbard! I tend to be a deeply inconsistent writer when it comes to frequency and what im happy with, but these prompts from @agirlandherquill are lovely so i thought id take a crack at one! my chosen prompt is "I'm incapable of forgetting, unfortunately."
I actually don't often write with named characters and dont have very many fully formed OCs, so here I think I'm practicing writing with one of them in mind, especially figuring out his dialogue. a little bit of necessary context is that my guy is born with the power of telepathy, and the lore of his world includes basic fantasy. so here it is :)
Silence presses in somewhat uncomfortably. Unfamiliarly, actually. The library now, as usual, is the quiet place it's meant to be; rows of books and shifts and bottled voices nestled into shelves of warm wood: a world of study and focus.
It's the inside of my head that has stayed quiet, abnormally so, and stayed my own, for far longer than ever before. Never would I have thought I would see the day where I might be unnerved by this precious peace of mind. But nevertheless the two strangers outside persist in their maddeningly serene existence.
Yes, these new, supposed security guards look stoic as a statue and about as intimidating as their job would prefer, but even the burly types don't usually have silent thoughts. No one does. Not a single swear or exclamation even faintly sensed when that adolescent chimera accidentally knocked a bottle into the edge of a shelf yesterday, and in their entire week of working outside these archives, not one instance of a thought even peeking into my consciousness.
It's blessed, of course. Theoretically. I applied for this backroom position sorting words and recordings in isolation for a reason. I don't have to deal with the distrustful looks of this damn town, the constant spikes of emotion and secrets that I do not want to be privy to. For four years, all I've had to do is make it to the library and lock the archive doors every day, and I would be guaranteed seven beautiful hours of my mind mine again. The only thoughts around would simply be my own, or those that could only be heard by opening the covers that bind pages or the corks that hold in speech.
Peace, essentially. Something I thought would be disrupted when two people were mandated to park themselves outside my doors for the seven hours I thought were mine, because apparently the library really could put together the funds to protect really old materials which were important for cultural preservation. Also, perhaps, according to some persistent thoughts from the young and old, because the new crown was attempting to "curb the spread of harmful ideas of the past" and "ensure the accuracy of materials in present day history." Which is to say, they were trying to be authoritarian tykes. Good luck and good riddance to them. As far as I've heard, most people's impassioned thoughts about the crown ranges from disbelief and bemusement to rage and defiance. As for the two cold-eyed sentries of knowledge and history probably still outside? I have no idea what they think, and that concept is what continues to bother me.
A glance at the sun outside prompts me to open up my lunch a little more frustratedly than strictly needed and take a bite, just as the doors on the far end of the archives creak open.
The sound jolts me out of my mood and my eyes snap to the stocky woman entering, along with the slightly more approachable guard following behind. I don't quite know when I'll get used to the fact that they both can enter the locked archive at will. I swallow the bite of food and simply nod at them both.
"Anything up?"
Only the taller guard on the right tilts their head and speaks, voice even. "No danger right now. Salen just wanted to inform you that the library staff can leave earlier today." I glean that the imposing one must be Salen based on how they direct a glance at her beside them. I probably should have learned their names by now. "Snowstorm's coming in and the heat enchantments have been redirected to the shelters. It won't be very pleasant to stick around."
Salen merely nods in agreement. There’s something oddly... amicable about them both. The usual suspicion and detachedness that is directed at me isn't present. Sure, they aren't bubbly and friendly, but they are both showing a willing disposition to help make the rest of my day better than if they hadn't talked to me. Which is more than the usual attitude of avoiding me absolutely, so, not bad. I'll take it.
"Snowstorm, huh? I'm definitely heading out then. You two leaving as well?"
Surprisingly enough, I don't end up begging in my head that we'll turn out to be leaving at different times. These two don't make my head hurt.
After receiving an affirmative to my question, we all head out of the archives. Lynh, the other guard I have finally gotten the name of, falls into step beside me as Salen locks the doors and we all exit the library.
Immediately, specks of snow blend into the white of my eyelashes. It really is cold. I know that logically, as Lynh and Salen flank me, it's just their job to keep me safe, but I do also note that it keeps me warmer too.
After a minute of brisk walking down the street towards my nearby home, the silence, somehow, becomes stifling. The very thing I usually crave so much when people's thoughts are squeezing into the space between my ears now seems uncomfortable enough that I blurt, "Why are you both so quiet?"
Salen glances at me. "You are as well. We did not think you'd enjoy us starting up a conversation."
On my right I catch a nod from Lynh. "Our first meeting you sort of looked like you wanted to be anywhere else."
"Ah– no, that's not what I meant, I mean your thoughts aren't– I can't– well—" Now my own thoughts are gone. I had wanted to clarify I mean their thoughts were unknown and undetectable to me, which is novel. However, complication number one: drawing attention to my ability to hear people's most private or strongest thoughts is not something I enjoy; complication number two: apparently my past dread of being around two people at the one place I could have peace was evident to the two people in question. The two people who actually, turns out, don't make my head hurt. Which is awkward. There is room for many misunderstandings and social missteps here.
I rub my temples and clear my throat of the cold dry air. "I... was just having a bit of an overwhelming day that day. Sorry. Also, what I mean is that I can't hear your thoughts." Right, just go out and say it, huh. "Not that I try to, or that I even have the ability to pry, I'm just wondering if there's a reason? I didn't think the library had the money to provide magical ability wards to both their security guards."
Salen hums in understanding and Lynh... stiffens slightly. They chew their lip before beginning hesitantly, "You're one of those telepaths who can only hear strong emotions or loud thoughts, right? Well... yes, that does make sense. Because... we... well, our own feelings—"
"Are removed." Salen states.
My footsteps on the snowy ground falter. "What? Your emotions? How can they–" I swallow my words when I see how Lynh has gone quiet, face shuttered. Perhaps I shouldn't pry.
But still... it's so strange. Removed? How could that happen? Who could do so? What mage would use their power for such a thing, and why..?
"You really don't feel anything?" I can't help asking.
Lynh lowers their head and looks off to the side. "We feel... a lot less. It- it's a bit personal, I think we'd prefer not to talk about it."
I try to tamp down my bewilderment and concern, until Salen's gaze lands heavily on me. Her firm voice seems to grip me by the shoulders. "We all have things that weigh us down, don't we? Have you never felt tired enough to change it all?"
Something that would make me give up a part of myself because of a burden it contained? It sounds drastic, but... I already have done that too, to some extent. My life has been shaped in my younger years by constant bombardment of people's deepest, most personal or most malicious feelings constantly; now that I've grown, my every choice is built around accommodating and lessening the fatigue caused by telepathy.
"Maybe you've gotten used to it? The telepathy, I mean. You've had it since you were born, no?" Lynh asks, gently breaking the silence i had fallen into. Their tone is purely curious and speculative.
Still, I wince. "No... getting used to it isn't something that can happen." We reach the gate outside my home and I use the process of unlocking and unlatching the metal bars as an excuse not to answer immediately.
These people aren't my friends. I've never really had someone I could tell this all to. How I weather everyone's toughest moments without asking. How i hear every insecurity and hateful thought and judging remark; intimate betrayals that aren't mine, secrets that my mind absorb that aren't my own but still, I bear. It's heavy to carry so much. And all of that, for years? Since... forever. Back during the time that my lips would let slip a secret I didn't know I shouldn't say, back when someone's dearest things held close to their heart became my own knowledge until everyone knew and everyone stayed away from the boy who knew too much. Until I accepted the isolation; it was either that, or I would forever have wary gazes at my back and an ache behind the eyes of all that I never wanted to hear or bear. It's all I know. I can never get used to it. So I say as much.
"Everything is still up here." I tap my head and give Lynh a lighthearted look with tired eyes. "Always. Even when no one is around. Then my own thoughts just go and remind me of what I know, constantly. I can never get used to it, never let go. All of it, no matter how I try to cope. I'm incapable of forgetting, unfortunately." I step through the gates and close it carefully. A barrier between me and these people I can open up to because they aren't open to me.
Lynh stands tall on the other side, and Salen's head dips in a small bow of farewell. "Maybe not forgetting has its own pains, even though losing feeling does too," she murmurs. "Similarities are found anywhere, it seems."
I nod. They both bid me goodbye and I return it, and then it's just the sound of fallen snow crunching underfoot and the thud of my door as it closes. Oddly enough... the walk wasn't dreadful. The talking was awkward, but... simple? Easy? Honest? None of that is quite right. Maybe it was just the crisp winter air, but something about the interaction was refreshing. No thoughts to ignore, just the words spoken and looks exchanged. It's less to parse and wade through mentally; something I might enjoy again.
