hi hello!! this is a tickle fic for The Amazing Digital Circus! it's a little short compared to what I usually write but I wanted to write something for TKTober this year. this is also kind of a ship fic for Gangle and Zooble, so Abstragedy-haters can skip this one heehee- enjoy!!!
this is a fic requested by @thornoisdono!! thank you so much for the request!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @mammillariatasay
Drawn Together
Words: 1,893
Pairing: Ler!Zooble, Lee!Gangle
Warnings: Jax is there briefly lmao
Prompt: "Are you ticklish?"
Zooble's room looked like an earthquake had hit a junkyard. Scattered around the room were limbs, spare panels, and mismatched joints, strewn across the floor in colorful heaps. Perched on the edge of their bed, they clicked a new arm into place with a satisfying snap, flexing the fingers experimentally while side-eyeing Gangle, who sat cross-ribboned on the rug with a sketchbook balanced in her lap. Pencils scratched nervously across the page as Gangle tried to capture the image in her mind onto the page in looping lines. Her comedy mask lay against the wall, a piece of the corner chipped off from Caine's latest adventure. Spooked, Gangle insisted she take it off until it can be replaced, not wanting to risk further damage.
Neither of them really minded the silence; Zooble was content tinkering, and Gangle, for all her trembling hesitation, was glad to have someone who didn't think her drawings were a waste of time. Despite their differences, they had formed a unique bond with each other and found solace in each other's company.
"What do you think of this one?" Zooble asked, holding up their new arm for Gangle to see. It was a plain-looking design with spiraling lines of purple and yellow running along the surface.
Gangle looked up from the page and examined it. "I think it'd go look with that leg over there," she said, pointing a ribbon over to a pink leg across the room with yellow polka dots.
Looking over at the limb in question, Zooble nodded and gazed back down at the arm. With a sigh, they took it back off, tossing it back into the bin. "What are you drawing? Are you working on that manga you told me about? I'm kind of stoked to see what Himari's gonna do next."
With her tearful smile, Gangle looked back up at Zooble. "You remembered her name," she said, touched that someone put the effort into considering her art in a serious light. Her eyes glistened with a mixture of surprise and delight.
Zooble shrugged. "'Course I did, Gangle." They chuckled as they remembered something they had read in the last installment. "I really liked it when she told Yuto what for. Totally badass. Honestly, what was that idiot thinking?"
Gangle's smile widened as she looked up at her friend, holding her sketchbook close. "Yeah, he's not bright," she admitted. "I'm glad you like it so far, Zooble."
"Hey, what's not to like? Ignore what Jax said, because slice-of-life is a perfectly legitimate genre." Zooble wasn't really capable of smiling since they had no mouth, but their eyes showed that their words were genuine and heartfelt.
The artist on the floor sniffled. "You're too nice to me," she said.
Zooble scoffed. "Yeah, well, I'm not gonna go to jail for being nice to someone who deserves it." They reached into the toy box to try on another arm, pulling out a wobbly one with a rounded end. "Eugh. This one's weird. I thought I threw this one in the garbage."
"You threw it at Jax," Gangle recalled.
They shrugged again. "Like I said." Zooble tossed it into the closet and dug back into the box. "So, what's Himari up to this time? Or, do you not want to spoil it?"
Gangle pressed the sketchbook close to her again. "Well, I have ideas for the next part, but I'm working on something else at the moment."
Zooble raised an eyebrow but didn't inquire further. Silence hung in the room for a while, only interrupted by the occasional snap of a piece into and back out of Zooble's shoulder socket and the shy scratches of Gangle's pencil on the page.
Eventually, Zooble pulled out an arm that intrigued them. It had a light blue coloration and looked sturdier than the others. With a snap, they attached it and flexed the fingers at the end. "Huh. This one's got an extra finger. That's odd."
Gangle didn't look up from the page, nor did she say a word in response.
Noticing the awkward silence, Zooble glanced back down at their friend. "Gangle? You alright?"
Once more, if the ribbon-girl heard them, she did nothing to confirm it to Zooble.
"Hey, Gangle?" Worried, Zooble reached out and gave Gangle a gentle poke to a ribbon on her side. With a yelp, Gangle jumped about a meter off the ground in typical cartoon fashion, sending the sketchbook flying across the room to land in a heap next to her comedy mask.
"YES! Yes, I'm here!" Gangle snapped her head around to look at her friend, whose eyes were wide with concern. "Sorry, I got a little too focused-!"
Zooble nodded, raising their hands slightly. "Easy. It's okay, I was only wanting to ask about the arm. I'm sorry I startled you, but... what was that?"
Gangle rubbed the side-ribbon, as if to make a sensation go away. "You just... startled me, is all!" With a nervous laugh, she avoided Zooble's gaze.
Zooble raised their eyebrow again, but then squinted. "Wait. Are you ticklish?"
Squeaking, Gangle visibly tensed, stammering out, "T-that'd be pretty silly, w-wouldn't it! I'm j-just made of ribbons, so I don't think that's p-possible-!" As she spoke, she started crawling across the floor to get her sketchbook back. "Anyways, about the manga-"
"No, no. Just hold on a second. C'mere, you." Zooble reached out and picked up the near-weightless ribbon-girl and sat her on the bed next to them. "Let me try something." Zooble reached their hand out.
"Really, I d-don't think you'd- EEEP-!" Gangle jumped again as her side was poked, but this time she couldn't say she was startled. With an experimental scribble that made Gangle squeal again, it was confirmed.
"Yeah, you're ticklish alright. Funny, I guess that makes sense," Zooble spoke as they continued scribbling. "We can feel pain, after all, and since ticklishness is activating the same nerves, this checks out."
"Wahahahait! J-juhuhuhuhust... h-hahahang ohohohon!!" Gangle squeaked and squirmed in Zooble's grasp, trying to weasel her way out of her tickles. To Zooble's surprise, Gangle's tragedy mask was beginning to turn a different color.
"Woah, that's new." Zooble traced a finger against her mask. "You're turning pink. There's no way you're..."
"Q-Quihihihit ihIhihit! Z-Zoohoohooble!!" Gangle shot her arms up to cover her face, which was beginning to turn a bright shade of pink.
Zooble chuckled in surprise. "I can't believe it, you're blushing! That's wild, I didn't know you could do that! Look, your face is heating up!" Zooble slid their fingers along Gangle's ribbons, wrapping their hand around to get Gangle's other side and scribbling up and down along the surface.
"D-Dohohoho youhuhu hahave tohohoho brihihihing attehehehention tohohoho ihihihit!" Gangle squealed and wriggled about on the bed.
"Well, yeah." Zooble's voice gave away the fact that they were smiling cheekily. They pulled the ribbon-girl closer, pinching experimentally, which gave them a pleasing result.
"WahahAHAHAHAIT-!" Gangle squealed, kicking her legs as she shot her hands down to attempt to push Zooble's away, to no avail.
Zooble giggled along with her. "Man, you're really ticklish. This is amazing," they brought their fingers upward, pinching with one hand and scribbling with the other. "Guess this hand is pretty nifty, right? The extra finger sure is useful."
"IHIHIT- IHIHIT IHIHISN'T!!!" Gangle laughed out heartily, letting tears of mirth slide down her tragedy mask.
"Oh, it isn't? But it's so good at scribbling, especially right-"
"NOHOHNONONO PLEHEHEHEHEEASEE!!" Gangle shrieked as Zooble scribbled some fingers on her neck. "NOHOHOT THEHEHERE, FOHOHOR THEHEE LOHOHOVE OHOHOF-"
"Jeez! You can get pretty loud if you'd like to. This must be your worst spot, right?" Zooble spoke in a nonchalant and casual tone as they explored, which drove Gangle up the walls. "You sure you wouldn't mind if I just hung around here for a bit?"
"IHIHHI MIHIHIHIND!! ZOOHOOHOOBLEEHEEHEEHEE!!" Gangle's squeals rang in Zooble's ears, but they didn't mind. It was really refreshing to hear Gangle like this.
Gradually, Zooble slowed down their fingers until they were just grazing the smooth surface of Gangle's ribbons. Gangle's frantic squeaking and squealing softened to a light giggling as the sensation lingered.
"You're pretty ticklish, Ribbons. I didn't go too hard on you, did I?" Zooble asked.
Gangle shook her head shyly. "N-no, it was... not bad."
Zooble chuckled and hugged their ribbon friend close. "I could tell you were enjoying it. I'm glad you were having fun." They sighed contentedly, then added, "Your laughter is beautiful. It's... carefree in a way you very rarely express. It's so earnest. I really liked listening to it."
They could feel Gangle's face heat up as she pressed herself closer. "I can't remember the last time I could laugh like that... It felt amazing. Thank you, Zooble."
"No problem. It was a lot of fun for me, too."
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Pomni's voice drifted through shyly. "Hey, Zooble? Are you alright in there?"
"We heard someone yelling," Ragatha's voice, "and we wanted to make sure you were doing okay."
"And I, simply wanting to do my part, came to make sure you weren't doing okay!"
Zooble rolled her eyes at Jax's quip. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just hanging out with Gangle. She said something pretty funny, so that laughing you heard was just me. Sorry."
"Oh~! So you and Gangle have been... hanging out~?" Jax's head pressed against the door teasingly. "Should we leave you two alone together~?"
"Shut the [BLOINK!] up, Jax! Buzz off!" Zooble wanted to throw something at him, but that would have meant loosening her hold on Gangle, so they swallowed their anger and stayed where they were.
With a snicker, Jax went, "C'mon, ladies, let's go make sure Kinger didn't destroy that Jenga tower while we were gone." Unhurriedly, the three pairs of footsteps faded from earshot.
Gangle peeked at Zooble. "Do... you promise not to tell him about this?"
"What, about your ticklishness? Yeah, no way in hell am I telling him about that. I don't even want to think about how he'd react. Don't worry, you're safe with me," Zooble reassured her, rubbing the ribbons along Gangle's back gently.
Gangle let that last sentence hang in her mind for a bit before sniffling again as a tear fell from her cheek. "Thank you for everything," she said softly.
"No worries. You deserve to have someone looking out for you."
They stayed like that for a while, but eventually, Gangle pulled away and walked across the room, picking up her sketchbook that she had thrown before. She sat back down on the bed next to Zooble, opening it to the page she had been working on earlier. Zooble's eyes widened.
Both of the pages in the open book comprised one piece. On the pages was a beautiful sketch of Gangle and Zooble sitting together on the grass under a night sky, their friends enjoying a picnic in the background as countless bright stars shone down. A smiling Moon hung above, and Zooble was pointing to a shooting star. Gangle was resting a hand on Zooble's. They looked so happy together.
It was Zooble's turn to blush. "It's... That's so pretty, Gangle," she breathed.
"You mean it?" Gangle asked. "You really like it?"
Zooble held Gangle's hand tightly and smiled with their eyes down at the ribbon-girl beside them. "It's my favorite."
oh hey there hows the family thats good thats good hey listen, this is a fic for the MCU featuring our favorite god of mischief!! for a bit of explanation, you, the reader, are a very very skilled marksman and sniper. Also, here's a five dollar word: seiðr, the type of magic practiced in Norse society and what I'm going to call Loki's magic. i hope you enjoy!!!
this is a fic requested by @burningablaze!! thank you so much for requesting!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @vqler
Your boots pounded against the sleek floors of the Avengers compound, breath coming in ragged gasps as you darted around another corner. Somewhere behind you, Loki's laugh, rich, sharp, and far too entertained, rolled down the hallway like a predator's growl.
"This is beneath me," you muttered under your breath, dodging past a reinforced door that you knew led to the sparring room. Honestly, you were just trying to convince yourself that you hadn't really done something that bad. "God of Mischief, my ass... more like the God of Overreacting."
The truth was, you had gone too far this time. It hadn't been your finest idea to grab a can of bright red spray paint from Tony's workshop and leave taunting graffiti all over Loki's prized cloak while he'd been distracted in the library. "Christmas colors are in fashion on Asgard! Red beats green any day!" You'd even doodled crude stick figures of Thor hammering Loki into the ground.
It was glorious... up until he found it.
Now, with every corner you turned, you swore you could hear his voice slithering through the air.
"Run faster, little mortal. I do enjoy a good chase."
You swore and pushed harder, clutching the last of your throwing knives in one hand. Your usual armament of rifles didn't exactly help at point-blank range, and right now, you'd give just about anything for some more distance between you and Loki Laufeyson.
You slid into the training room, boots skidding on polished flooring. Slamming the door shut, you pressed your back against it, chest heaving. Maybe, just maybe, you'd bought yourself a few seconds.
The overhead lights flickered.
A ripple spread across the room, and your stomach plummeted. Loki's illusions shimmered into existence, four of him at once, each smirking with the same infuriating grin. They fanned out to block the exits, long green coats (still stained with streaks of your red paint, to your satisfaction) swishing dramatically.
"Well, well," one of them drawled. "Cornered already?
"I thought you had more fight left in you."
"You really should've chosen blue. Red is such an obvious cry for attention."
The fourth chimed in, wagging a finger. "And on my cloak? Naughty, naughty..."
You gritted your teeth and hurled the knife at the closest version of him. It sliced through empty air as the illusion dispersed like mist.
"Cheap tricks," you spat, yanking another blade from your belt.
"From me?" His voice slithered behind you, low and amused. "My tricks are just fine."
Before you could spin, icy fingers clamped around your wrist, twisting the knife neatly from your grasp.
You cursed, thrashing, but in a heartbeat, glowing green tendrils of seiðr wrapped around your arms, dragging them above your head and fixing them to thin air as though chained to an invisible post. Your knives clattered uselessly to the floor. Loki stepped smoothly in front of you, emerald eyes glittering, lips curled into a grin that spelled nothing but trouble for you. Poor thing.
His ruined cloak still bore your graffiti, an obscene red smiley face sprayed right over his chest, but somehow, that only made him look more menacing. Your grave error stared you in the face along with its consequences.
"Well, look at you now," he purred, circling. "My little vandal caught red-handed. Quite literally." His gaze flicked down at the paint streaks still dried onto your gloves.
You tried to steady your voice, but panic set in fast. "L-Loki, I-I'm sorry, okay? It was just a joke, really-"
"Oh?" His brows lifted, his words laced with mock surprise. "An apology? That quickly? Well, I haven't even started." He pinched your chin and leaned in close, nose inches from yours, voice dropping to a silken whisper as he glared at you spitefully. "Do you know what victory smells like? It smells like fear."
Your chest tightened as he lifted a hand and flexed his fingers ominously.
"No, wait- hang on, let's just talk about this-!"
The first squeeze landed on your ribs, sharp and sudden. You bucked against the bindings with a yelp that instantly cracked into helpless laughter.
"L-LoHoHohOki, doHohoHOOn't-!!"
He chuckled darkly, dragging his fingers up your sides with excruciating slowness, pausing at every flinch, every squeak. "Mmm. Yes. There it is. A delightful sound. You sound almost cheerful for someone about to be undone."
You twisted, shaking your head, but the seiðr held tight. He slipped his hands under your arms, spidering maddeningly light touches into your underarms until you threw your head back, giggles bursting uncontrollably.
"Oh, that's a lovely reaction," Loki mused. "So sharp here, but softer-" He abruptly squeezed at your waist, and you shrieked. "-ahhh, there it is. Such honesty in the language of laughter."
You kicked wildly, trying to curl forward, but he only pushed your arms higher overhead with another flick of magic, exposing you more.
"P-PLEHEHEHEHehHEASe!" you gasped, tears of laughter already springing to your eyes. "IhIHihIHI sHAahhahaId IhihIHI wHhahahas soHohOhorry!!"
"You think that makes up for what you've done?" His smirk widened as he dove mercilessly back into your ribs, scribbling fast until your body convulsed with laughter. "Oh, my dear Y/N, I will paint my vengeance across your nerves until you beg me for mercy."
Your apologies only spilled faster, tumbling between broken laughter, which seemed to fuel his delight all the more.
"Beg louder," he teased, tone silken as his hands darted for your hips. "You've only just started amusing me."
Your head whipped side to side as Loki's fingers danced wickedly over your torso, tracing every seam in your combat gear.
"Such desperation," he murmured, voice syrupy with mischief. "But which is worse for you, hmm?" His hands slowed, deliberately testing. First, maddening wiggles in your underarms that left you hiccuping with giggles. Then a sudden squeeze at your knee that sent your laughter pitching up into shrieks.
"Aha~!" he crowed, triumphant. "The knee, then. My little hero cannot keep their composure."
You gasped through laughter, trying to twist away. "IHIhiHiHI'm NohOhOt- IhiHihI'm NohohoT liHihIHIttle!!"
"Oh, you are compared to me." His smirk was sharper than knives. He leaned close enough for his breath to brush your ear. "And look at that face. You don't have your mask to hide behind, none of your usual stoic calm. Just flushed cheeks and that delightful smile you try so hard to bury."
You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to conceal your face in your arm, but that only made his chuckle deepen. "Oh no, don't you dare hide from me. I'll pry every expression out of you, every laugh, until you admit just how much I own you in this moment."
Your apologies spilled out between giggles, frantic and breathless, but Loki only seemed to savor them like a horn of Asgardian ale.
"Right. Enough fumbling about," Loki declared, and with a wave of seiðr, glowing green hands bloomed from thin air, shimmering duplicates that clamped around your ankles, pulling you taut. They tickled in tandem with his real ones, scribbling mercilessly on your soles.
You screamed with laughter, thrashing around wildly, but the magic held you suspended like a helpless marionette.
"Magnificent," Loki said, eyes glittering. "Such a mighty hero reduced to nothing but laughter when I so choose. Does it tickle more when I tease..." the conjured hands dragged lazy spirals along your arches, "...or when I torment?" He lunged back into your ribs with both hands, squeezing mercilessly.
You nearly choked on your own giggles, tears streaking your cheeks. "L-LOhOhOhOKI!! IHiHihi cahahAHahnt-!"
"Oh, you can." He tilted his head, grin sharp and gleeful. "You'll laugh until I decide otherwise."
The tempo shifted constantly, slow, feather-light touches that drove you mad with anticipation, then sudden vicious squeezes that left you shrieking. Loki hummed under his breath, as though testing an instrument. "Yes... This spot here sings the sweetest," he muttered, clawing at your sides. "But here-" his fingers pinched lightly at your hips and you let out a squeal so sharp he laughed aloud, "-oh, that's worth repeating~."
"IHIHI'LL NEHEHEVER- NEHEHEVER TOUHUHUCH YOUHUHUR CLOHOHOAK AGAHAHAIN!!" you gasped between peals of laughter. "IHIHI'LL- IHIHI'LL EVEEHEHEN POHOHOLISH YOUHUHUR BOOHOOTS- JUHUHUST STOHOHOP!"
Loki's eyes lit with malicious amusement. "Polish my boots? How quaint. You think your petty chores will buy my mercy?" He leaned in close, brushing a single finger under your chin, making you giggle despite the fleeting touch. "No, no, little mortal. Your laughter is worth far more than any groveling."
He dipped to your ear, whispering so softly it made your stomach flip even as you laughed helplessly. "So fragile for someone who calls themselves a warrior. So very easy to undo." His hands darted back to your underarms, and you broke into unrestrained cackles.
"P-pLEEHehEHASE, IhIhI MEhEHEHAN IhIHIHIT!" you begged. "IHIHI'LL DOOHOHOOO AHAHANYTHIHIHING!!"
"Anything?" Loki echoed, savoring the word. He tickled more slowly now, deliberate and cruel, making you gasp between each laugh. "Then admit to me that you are mine to play with."
Through hiccupy giggles, you choked out, "IhihIHI- IHiHII'M YOUHUHURS!! JUHUHUHUHUST STOHOHOHOHOP-!!!"
"Lovely," he purred, though his fingers never faltered.
At last, after what felt like hours but could only have been minutes, the green bindings dissolved. Your body dropped in a heap onto the floor, limbs trembling, lungs gasping for air. You curled onto your side, giggling uncontrollably as the aftershocks rippled through you.
Loki stood above, utterly composed, not a hair out of place, though the crimson graffiti still marred his cloak in bold streaks. He regarded you with cool satisfaction, like a cat who had toyed with a mouse until it lay too exhausted to flee.
"I-Ihihihihi'll wahahahsh ihihit!!" you blurted through lingering laughter, still sprawled on the floor. "Ihihihi swehehehear, Ihihihi'll wahahash the pahaint out... cleheheaner than befohohore... untihihihil it shihines like it's nehehew... juhust plehehease dohohon't... dohohohon't..." A helpless giggle cut you off, leaving you breathless.
Loki smirked, tilting his head. "That will be good, for a start."
With a theatrical swirl of his ruined cloak, he turned and strode from the room, leaving you sprawled on the training floor, breathless, aching, and very aware of your poor life choices.
A few minutes later, the door hissed open again, and you turned your head to see Sam and Bucky walking in with their duffel bags of equipment. They took one look at you and chuckled.
"Yeah," Sam nodded, "Training's like that some days."
Bucky grinned, bending down to ruffle your hair. "It gets easier with time."
"Wh-" You furrowed your brows, then understood. They thought you were totally wiped from a workout. Yes. Okay. Alright, you could work with this. "Y-yeah, those uhm... those lunges were killer."
The two men ahh-ed with understanding.
"You should have stretched first," Sam told you.
"-should have stretched first," Bucky said, a few seconds behind. He pursed his lips and gently hit Sam in the shoulder for saying it first.
"Y-yeheah, I'll do better next time..." you whined softly, although your meaning was different from what they thought. One thing's for sure, you weren't gonna pull a stunt like that on Loki again...
...At least, not in the near future. A month from now, all bets are off. Maybe he'll be a better sport next time.
AHHHH you scared me yes yes howdy there!! this is another tickle fic for TADC with some more abstragedy heehee-
this is a fic requested by @grayishgiggles!! thank you so much for the request <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @mammillariatasay
Unraveled
Words: 1,538
Pairing: Ler!Zooble, Lee!Gangle
Warnings: Jax is there briefly again im so sorry
Prompt: Cheer Up
The gang stumbled back into the circus, looking like survivors of a shipwreck. Caine's latest "adventure" had been a grueling obstacle course involving screaming playing cards, a tyrannical rubber duck, and an altogether uncooperative volcano coughing up confetti.
Ragatha tried to rally everyone with a chipper, "Great job, team! We... survived!" but her voice cracked halfway through. Pomni was clutching her shellshocked head like she had seen the face of Cthulu's acne-covered son eat a bowl of preschoolers. Kinger bolted for his pillow fort with his usual frantic energy.
Amidst the tension, predictably, Jax pounced.
"Whew, long day," he drawled, stretching his arms behind his head. His eyes flicked toward Gangle, and that sly grin spread. "But hey, at least we have our gift wrap intact. Mostly."
He flicked one of her ribbons, and Gangle squeaked, stumbling backward. Her mask tilted awkwardly, betraying her nerves. "H-hey! Don't-"
Jax snickered. "Careful, you'll unravel. Oh, wait, you always do."
Gangle's ribbons shivered with flustered energy. She made a halfhearted attempt to recollect herself, squeaking, "I-It's fine, I'm fine-"
"Jax," Zooble snapped. Their voice carried an edge sharp enough to cut glass. They stepped forward, glaring. "[BLOINK!] off."
The grin faltered for half a beat before Jax shrugged. "Whatever. Sheesh. Sensitive much?" He slunk off, clearly satisfied with the reaction.
Zooble turned back to Gangle, who was still fumbling with her ribbons, embarrassed. With a sigh, they gently tugged a ribbon into place for her. "C'mon. You shouldn't have to take that. Let's go."
Gangle blinked at them, somewhat surprised, but nodded quickly. And before she could unravel further under Jax's mockery, Zooble led her away, ribbons trailing nervously behind.
Gangle's room was small, cozy, and lined with bits of fabric she collected, like a nest of ribbons and cloth scraps. It looked softer compared to the chaos of the circus, though the atmosphere was heavy with her anxious energy.
She shuffled inside, mask tilted low. "S-sorry... I, um, I didn't mean to make a scene. I know Jax is just... Jax."
Zooble folded their arms. "Yeah, that's the problem. He knows exactly how to push buttons. Doesn't mean you should just take it."
"I guess," Gangle squeaked, her ribbons twisting as she slightly unraveled. "It's just... easier to not fight back, you know?"
Zooble sighed, watching her fidget. Despite themselves, they felt a tug of something warm. Frustration at Jax, sure, but also... the way Gangle tried so hard to keep herself together.
They stepped closer, tilting their head. "That's not really working out so well for you, though."
Gangle squeaked again, flustered by the closeness, her ribbons tightening around her. "W-well, I-uhm-"
Her mask shifted, betraying her nerves. Zooble noticed with a faint smirk tugging at their non-existent lips. They remembered something from a few nights ago, just how ridiculously ticklish Gangle had been.
A wicked thought crept in.
"Alright," Zooble said casually. "You clearly need cheering up. And I know just the thing."
Gangle's mask shot up, eyes wide. "N-no, you wouldn't-!"
"Oh, I absolutely would." Zooble grinned. They leaned down, their lobster claw twitching just enough to make her squeak. "Cheer-up therapy. Doctor's orders."
Gangle squealed before they even touched her, ribbons flailing as she tried to curl herself up like a cocoon. "Zooble! D-don't-!"
But Zooble only poked one ribbon near her midsection.
Gangle instantly squeaked like a helium balloon let loose, her laughter bursting out in squeals. "EeEEeeheehehe! N-nooo! Z-Zooble!!"
Zooble barked out a laugh. "Oh my god, you sound like a squeaky toy."
Her mask flushed pink at that, and she wiggled dramatically, unraveling instead of pulling away. "Sh-shuuhuhuhut uuuuup! EeeEEeeeheehee!"
"Not my fault you're squeaky," Zooble teased, fingers and claw tapping along her midsection ribbons. "What, you expect me just to ignore your tickle spots? Get less ticklish."
Gangle squealed higher, her pitch climbing until it cracked. "I c-caahaAn't! Ahahahaaaha!"
She wriggled and twisted, ribbons slipping through Zooble's arms as though she was trying to unravel right out of their grip. But she wasn't going anywhere; Zooble had caught her again, pinning her gently against the fabric wall.
"Slipping out, huh?" Zooble teased, grinning down at her. "Nice try, ribbons."
Her mask was tilted back in helpless laughter, ribbons flailing without aim. She wasn't fighting to escape... she was inviting them to continue.
And Zooble... definitely noticed.
Zooble leaned into the role mercilessly. Their claw wiggled against her midsection, sending Gangle into pitchy, squealing hysterics. "EeeeEEeeheehehe! NohoHOhohohohoo! StohHohoHooop!!"
"See, you say 'stop'," Zooble taunted, "but you're unraveling all over the place. Can't fool me, Gangle."
Her ribbons were everywhere now, twitching and curling. She squeaked again, eyes squeezing shut under her mask. "Y-youhuhu're soho meeeheheeEEHEHEEeeheheheean!!"
"Mean? Me?" Zooble tsked mockingly, shifting to wiggle their regular hand along her side ribbons. "I'm the nicest person here. Look at me, giving you the gift of laughter."
The squeals turned to snorts, then back into squeaks. Gangle's laughter pitched so high it almost broke the air. Zooble had to bite back their own laugh at how ridiculous and adorable she sounded.
"Seriously, you're gonna break the sound barrier," Zooble teased.
"ZoohhooOOBLLLE!! Eeeeeeheehheheeehe!"
Her unraveling hit a point where one ribbon slipped free entirely, flopping onto Zooble's shoulder. Instead of recoiling, Gangle buried her mask against their chest with an embarrassed squeal.
Zooble froze for half a second, heat prickling at their neck. The contact was sudden, intimate. For a flicker of a moment, they felt her mask vibrate with her helpless giggles, soft and warm against them.
They recovered quickly, smirking. "Oh? Hiding now? That's not gonna save you."
And with that, they let the lobster claw clamp gently on the ribbon where her ribs would be, giving rapid little wiggling squeezes.
Gangle screamed, a squeaky, squealing sound that cracked halfway into a giggle-snort. She unraveled wildly, ribbons flying everywhere. "EEEEeeeEEeeheheehhee!! N-nhOOHoHoHOO! NoHOot theeHEHehERE!!"
"Bingo," Zooble teased, relentless. "Gotcha."
Her laughter was pure chaos, squeals tumbling over squeaks until she flopped limp against them, mask glowing pink.
Zooble, sensing victory, let their claw slow. Their other hand idly brushed along the back of Gangle's mask.
The change was stark.
Gangle gasped, then melted, almost literally. Her ribbons went limp, puddling against Zooble's chest as if every non-existent bone had left her body. Her laughter softened into helpless giggles and squeaky hiccups. "Eeeheheee... heehehhee!! Nohohooohoo..."
Zooble blinked. "Wow. Melting's new."
"D-dohohohohon't-!" Gangle squeaked, but it came out faint, muffled against their chest.
Zooble smirked, brushing again at the back of her mask. "Unbelievable. You're just a puddle now."
Her ribbons coiled weakly around their arm, not resisting, only clinging. She giggled helplessly, trying to hide. "S-shuhhhuuuhhup…"
Zooble's expression softened. They gave her mask a gentle stroke, alternating between playful pokes and soothing rubs. "You really are something, Gangle. Cute, squeaky, and floppy all in one."
Her mask tilted low again, embarrassed. "Y-youhuhu're teeheeheeasing..."
"Of course I am." Zooble chuckled, lowering their voice just enough to add weight. "It's fun when you get all flustered."
The air got heavier, laughter giving way to something... warmer. Gangle curled closer, ribbons trembling, too flustered to reply.
Zooble didn't push further. They let her settle, still smirking but... gentler now.
When the giggles finally faded, Gangle peeked up shyly. "K-kihinda fuhun..." she admitted in a squeaky whisper.
Zooble arched a brow. "Kinda? That squeaky meltdown said otherwise."
Her mask flushed, and she swatted them weakly with a ribbon. "Stohoppp..."
Zooble grinned with their eyes, catching the ribbon and holding it. "Eh, make me."
The tension hung in the air, playful, teasing, but undeniably close. Gangle squeaked again, hiding her mask against Zooble's chest. Zooble chuckled softly, their claw resting loosely on her side, no more tickling, just holding her in place.
"See? My patented cheer-up therapy works," Zooble said lightly. "Better than sulking, right?"
"...M-maybe," Gangle mumbled.
Zooble tilted her mask up gently. "Definitely."
Her mask glowed pinker, and she curled tighter around them.
Zooble laughed under their breath. "Alright, squeaky toy. You're wiped. Let's get you somewhere soft before you unravel into a puddle for real."
Kinger's pillow fort loomed at the center of the circus, seemingly always larger than it was the last time one saw it. Cushions were stacked haphazardly into towers and tunnels. Kinger peeked out from the entrance, eyes wide in panic. "INTRUDERS! Wait- no, allies, yes, allies. You may pass!"
Zooble rolled their eyes but carried Gangle inside anyway.
They found a soft corner, fluffing the pillows around her. Gangle was still giggling faintly, her mask tilted in shy happiness. She curled into the nest of cushions, ribbons draping loosely like a blanket.
Kinger saluted them dramatically. "Fort security approves." Then he scuttled off to another corner.
Zooble smirked, settling her in place. "There. Better than Jax's nonsense, yeah?"
Gangle's mask dipped in a sleepy nod. "Mmhmmm..."
Within minutes, Gangle's giggles faded into soft breathing, her ribbons snug around the pillows. She looked peaceful, lips curved in a smile.
Zooble lingered, watching her for a moment. Something warm tugged at their chest.
"Better than sulking," they murmured again, softer this time.
Then, with one last hum, they left her to rest. Gangle was safe, happy, and dreaming in the soft chaos of the pillow fort.
...huh? oh! hey there!! didnt see you there, creepin in the shadows, fangs glistening, hungry for the souls of the damned! hiiiii! this is another long tickle fic and its for the hit roblox game Pressure!! i hope you enjoy it!!
this is a fic requested by [REDACTED]!! thank you so much for the request!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @august-anon
Feeling the Pressure
Words: 4,072
Pairing: Lee!Reader, some Ler!Sebastian
Warnings: Intense tickles, some foot tickles- also you die!!! tw death
Prompt: Spell
The corridor ahead breathed with that faint, mechanical hum you only ever notice when you're moving too fast. To anyone else, it might have been a suffocating silence, the quiet before some anomaly lunged out of the dark. But to you, it was a rhythm, a pattern. Every drip of condensation from the pipework, every hiss of a pressure valve, even the distant groan of shifting metal, it was all familiar music to you. You've done this run enough times to know its ins and outs.
The Hadal Blacksite was not forgiving, not by a mile. However, if you listened carefully, it was predictable. Every time you died, you knew with grim certainty that it was your fault, and that next time, you would be more prepared than the last.
Your boots scraped across the grating as you swung into another side chamber. Door... 27, if your count was correct. A half-collapsed storage nook, fluorescent lights buzzing like overgrown gnats. Your eyes swept the corners automatically: no shadows crawling where they shouldn't and no misplaced breathing. Clear.
That is when you saw it, lying on a crate in the center of the room like someone had just set it down and walked away.
Not Kroner, and not a breacher either.
It looked like a toy at first, something you'd hand to a kid, except... wrong. A crystalline rod, maybe the length of your forearm, capped with a jagged bulb of translucent glass. Strange grooves spiraled down the shaft like veins, glowing faintly with a pale lavender pulse. Every few seconds, the light shivered, like it was laughing at you.
You frowned, stepping closer. Urbanshade's junk usually looked... clinical, industrial. This was downright whimsical.
Still, you'd learned long ago that ignoring anomalies meant leaving potential tools on the table. You reached out and touched it. Cold... then warm, like it was shifting temperature to unsettle you.
When you lifted it, the grooves glowed brighter.
"...Huh."
The thought came half out of your mouth before you realized it. The weight was nothing, feather-light, almost begging to be waved around. And so, like the reckless idiot every runner is sometimes, you did.
With a flick of your wrist, a burst of air puffed across the crate, scattering dust over the far side of the room. Your eyebrows shot up.
You tried again, this time at the nearby wall. A faint shimmer traced the concrete before fading.
You grinned. "Okay, that's new."
Curiosity always burns hotter than caution. You aimed at a discarded barrel in the corner and gave it a playful swish. The thing vibrated, rattling like someone had shaken it from the inside. You stifled a laugh. This was harmless, whatever it was. Harmless and... weirdly fun.
And then you made the mistake of aiming it at yourself.
A ghost of pressure, no, of fingers, skimmed your wrist. You jerked, biting back a startled laugh. It stopped as quickly as it started, like the wand was teasing you.
You shook your head, chuckling nervously. "A-Alright, that's... a little much."
You twirled it again, amused. Maybe it was like the Toy Remote, one of those anomalies that were more joke than threat. Look, if Urbanshade wanted to stockpile silly artifacts from a clown's reject bin, that was their problem. For you, right now, it meant you had something to play with during the in-between.
And play you did, all the way down the next hallway. You poked it at pipes and watched them hiss louder. You flicked it at the flickering lights and made them spark. At one point, you even swished it at a door, just to see if it would magically open. (It didn't.)
The problem was, while you were amusing yourself, you weren't listening.
The metal scream hit first, the sound of claws dragging down steel from somewhere behind. Then the rush, that telltale hiss of water flooding through pipes at impossible speed. Your stomach sank. Angler!
You darted forward, scanning for cover. The lights in the hall dipped, then blazed with sickly brightness.
The locker! Your eyes locked on the battered storage unit set against the wall. No time to think, just move!
You yanked the door open, slid inside, and pulled it shut. Darkness swallowed you whole, except for the faint pulse of lavender light from the wand still clenched in your hand.
Your breath came shallow. You pressed yourself against the back of the locker, forcing the air out of your lungs, listening.
The Angler thundred past. Its roar echoed down the corridor, rattling the metal skin of your hiding place. For a moment, you thought it might stop. Then, silence. It was gone.
Relief washed through you, but it was short-lived because that's when you heard it.
A wet slurp from behind.
You froze. The smell hit next, like iron and rot, clinging to the back of your throat. Then the sound again, a ripple, a shift.
You tilted your head down, every nerve screaming denial.
Black sheen glistened in the faint glow of the wand. A puddle of void-mass. In the locker. With you.
Your heart kicked into overdrive. The space was too small, too tight. Nowhere to run. You'd trapped yourself.
The puddle shifted, tendrils lifting lazily like smoke, curling toward you. It didn't need to rush, you were cornered prey. Your grip on the wand tightened until your knuckles ached.
The thing inched closer. Your mind scrambled for options. None. No way out, no plan.
Desperation whispered.
You raised the wand, aimed it shakily behind you at the mass. Your hand moved before your brain caught up, flicking the crystal tip in the slightest, most pitiful gesture of defiance.
Light flared.
The void-mass convulsed.
For a moment, you thought it was going to explode. Then you realized it was quivering. Like it had been shocked with a thousand tiny pinpricks. The tendrils jerked, squirmed. The puddle rippled violently, spasming against the locker walls. Were those... squeaks you heard?
It looked... like it was laughing.
You blinked, sweat dripping down your temples. "No way," you whispered.
The wand pulsed again, and the puddle recoiled hard, smashing itself against the far corner of the locker to get away from the unseen phantom fingers tormenting it. You almost laughed yourself, half in hysteria and half in disbelief.
"Y-yeah," you breathed, voice shaking but edged with a grin. "And stay back!"
Slowly, cautiously, you reached for the locker handle. Your pulse still thundered in your ears.
You eased the door open and stepped out into the hall, never breaking eye contact with the puddle still writhing inside.
The moment you were clear, the puddle shot a tendril forward and slammed the locker door shut behind you with a metallic clang.
You didn't look back. You just gripped the wand tighter and started walking.
The door slid shut behind you with its heavy pneumatic hiss, and the first thing you did was collapse against the wall. Your lungs burned, your legs ached, and sweat slicked down the back of your neck.
Safe room at last.
The dim amber glow of the ceiling lights buzzed faintly overhead, the closest thing to comfort this place ever offered. The air was dry here, scrubbed clean of the chemical stench and saltwater tang that clung to the rest of the facility. Your whole body sagged in relief. You'd made it.
You looked down at the wand still clutched in your hand. Its grooves pulsed softly, almost smug.
You laughed weakly, the sound pressing against the sterile walls. "What... even are you?"
A void-puddle tickled into submission. The thought still made you shake your head in disbelief. You could already hear Sebastian's dry commentary in your head: "Ohh, yes, we catalogued that anomaly months ago. Harmless, unless you happen to be particularly sensitive."
Sensitive! The memory of that fleeting brush across your wrist earlier flickered through you, and you found yourself staring at the crystalline tip a little too long.
Curiosity gnawed at you again. You were safe. You had time. And no one was watching.
You sat down on the metal bench, holding the wand with a shaking hand. Slowly, carefully, you aimed it at your opposite forearm.
The glow brightened.
A feather-light stroke traced along the fine hairs of your skin. You flinched, breath catching in your throat. A high, startled laugh bubbled out of you before you could bite it back.
It stopped the second you lowered the wand.
You blinked down at your arm. Nothing there. No mark, no sensation lingering. Just the echo of that laugh in the empty room.
"...Oh, no..." you murmured, heart racing.
Because you already knew what was going to happen next.
You raised it again, this time toward your side. The crystal hummed.
Phantom fingers darted against your ribs, quick and relentless. You yelped, twisting sideways on the bench, a helpless giggle tearing loose. The invisible touches spread upward, brushing against your underarm, then darting down your stomach.
"AhahHAHA! OkahAHAHY okAhahaAY-!" You gasped, lowering the wand instinctively.
The tickling vanished.
You doubled over, panting, cheeks burning hot. Your whole body trembled with adrenaline.
It was real. Not just some silly parlor trick, not just a breeze or vibration. Actual tickling, impossible, entirely invisible, but... undeniable.
And worse... it responded to you.
You swallowed, staring at the thing. Any sane runner would have shoved it in their pack, locked it away until the fishy shopkeep could dissect it. But sanity had fled the moment you'd seen that void-puddle slam the door shut behind you, that monster which had ended so many previous runs for you, now scared of that wand's abilities.
You had to know.
You aimed again, this time at your stomach.
The wand pusled. A dozen phantom fingertips skittered across your belly at once. You shrieked, doubling over, arms wrapping tight as though that could shield you. The harder you tensed, the more insistent the invisible touches became, scribbling patterns that stole the breath from your lungs. It was trying to show you exactly how helpless you were.
"St-StOHoHoHOhOhOP!! OhOhOMyHyHYGohOhOD, StoHoHoHOP!!" Your voice cracked between helpless laughter.
And when you flicked the wand sideways in your struggle, the effect changed.
Phantom feathers now. Silky-soft, draaaagging across your neck, down the insides of your arms. You collapsed onto your side of the bench, kicking helplessly, laughter spilling without control.
Each motion with the wand shifted the sensation. A jab forward sent blunt pokes down your sides, staccato bursts that made you squeal. A twist of the wrist summoned ghostly invisible hands to squeeze at your waist, fingers dancing mercilessly.
It was like the wand was reading you, learning just where to press the hardest. Every flick unlocked a new tickly torment.
Your giggles bounced off the walls, echoing back at you like a chorus. You tried to smother them against your sleeve, but it didn't matter. No one could hear you here but yourself.
"Y-YouhUHUHu're NoHohOt RehHehhEal," you wheezed at the phantom fingers scribbling across your ribs, trying to will them out of existence. "Y-youHuHuhu're- juHuHuhUst- hEhehEHheE!! aAN OhOhOhObject-!!"
The wand pulsed brighter, as though amused.
The invisible touch slid down to your knees, spidering behind them until you kicked out violently, nearly dropping the wand. Your laughter broke into gasps, then shrieks, until you jammed the tip against the floor in desperation.
Everything stopped.
The silence that followed was deafening. Your chest heaved. Your arms wrapped protectively around your middle as if to shield yourself from something still there. Tears stung in your eyes from laughing too hard. Had you ever laughed this hard before?
You sat there for a long moment, shaking, before daring to pick the wand back up.
It flowed faintly again, innocently, like it hadn't just wrung you out like a rag doll.
Your lips curled into a dazed, breathless smile. "Y-youhuhu're dahangerous."
The wand pulsed as you set it down, but your mistake was when you pointed it towards you without thinking. The wand pulsed again, brighter than before, as if it had only been toying with you up until now. Before, it was just testing your sensitivity. You barely had time to register that thought before it hit you.
Phantom hands multiplied.
They came from everywhere at once! Curling under your arms, scribbling down your sides, kneading the backs of your knees until your legs kicked violently against the bench. Another set latched onto your feet, phantom fingers digging mercilessly at your arches and toes.
The laugh that ripped out of you didn't even sound human. It was raw, breathless, bursting out of you in helpless waves.
"AhahAHA!! NoHoHO!! NOhohOnoNOnOnOHOhO!!!" Your pleas dissolved into shrieking laughter. You twisted, rolled off the bench, hit the floor hard, and still couldn't escape the invisible touches.
Everywhere at once!
Ribs squeezed. Toes wiggled uncontrollably as phantom nails traced circles. Your stomach quivered beneath dozens of unseen fingertips. Each new wave layered over the last until your mind fuzzed with static, nothing but laughter and panic.
You couldn't even catch your breath. Tears blurred your vision, stinging hot as they spilled down your cheeks.
You tried grabbing the wand, tried to force it still, but every movement just triggered something new. A jab sent buzzing pokes at your sides. A twist unleashed a storm of feathers under your chin. When you dropped it for a moment in desperation, it only hummed brighter, punishing you with phantom hands clamping at your hips.
You couldn't think, couldn't process. It was like a curse, dragging you deeper into its rhythm. Your body convulsed, rolling on the sterile floor, half-sobbing between shrieks of laughter.
"HAhahAHHAHAHH-!! StHahHAHA- StHahaHAHAP!! PleHEhEHEHEASE!!!" Your voice was shredded, laughter breaking into hiccups.
It didn't listen.
You clawed at the ground, trying to crawl away, but your legs buckled as ghostly fingers dug into the backs of your knees again. Your arms flailed, catching nothing but air. Each desperate motion only seemed to please the wand more!
The intensity peaked, phantom touches everywhere, impossible to defend, your mind splintering into pure sensation. For one horrifying moment, you wondered if it would just keep going until you passed out entirely.
And then... silence.
The air stilled. Your body collapsed, boneless, onto the cool floor.
You lay there, gasping, chest heaving like you'd sprinted a mile at full tilt. Sweat plastered your hair to your forehead. Your uniform clung damp to your back. Every muscle trembled, weak from laughing too hard, too long.
The wand rested beside you, humming faintly, innocent as a lullaby.
You wiped your eyes with a shaking sleeve, giggles still bubbling out uncontrollably in aftershocks. Your ribs ached. Your throat was raw.
"... O-okahahay," you croaked, voice rough. "N-nehever... nehehever again."
Your hand twitched, reaching for the wand, then hesitated.
"M-mahaybe... maybe again lahater..."
The glow pulsed once, as if agreeing.
Getting back on your feet took longer than you wanted to admit. Your legs shook like you were balancing on a tightrope, each step unsteady. You shoved the wand into your belt, still wary of what it might do if you held it too long.
You staggered toward the door. Safe room time was over.
The hallway outside felt colder than usual. Your ears rang faintly, whether from leftover laughter or the facility's hum, you couldn't tell. You forced yourself forward, trying to shake the fog out of your head.
Moving into the next room, you heard it: mechanical whirring, servos clicking.
Searchlights.
Your stomach dropped.
Its massive body floated far above you, gleaming eyes scanning, its harpoons bristling with anticipation. Typically, you would've timed its patrol path, ducked between its blind spots, or maybe tossed an item to distract. Easy.
But your limbs weren't listening. Your knees still wobbled. Your head still spun. Every nerve was fried, twitching with phantom echoes of tickling that weren't even there anymore.
You moved too slowly.
The creature spun toward you, screeching with static. A beam of light shot out, line-of-sight locking onto you instantly. Your heart lurched.
"W-wait, no, I-!"
Too late.
The harpoons lashed forward. Pain exploded through your chest as the world fractured into black.
There was the liminal nothingness between runs, a void, and then, of course...
...Sebastian.
The lamp burned between you, outlining his sharp features in mocking glow. His arms folded across the counter as he leaned in, smirk already tugging at his mouth.
"Well, well," he drawled, his voice like sandpaper dipped in oil. "Back again, and so soon. Didn't make it too far, did we~?"
You winced, heat flooding your cheeks. You couldn't meet Sebastian's eyes. "Got distracted," you muttered.
"Distracted?" His tone wrapped around the word like it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. He slid the document for the Searchlights forward, flipping it open, but it didn't interest either of you now. "How tragic. Shall I hazard a guess at the cause?"
Your blush deepened. Your hand pressed against your belt, and you felt a little disappointed at not finding the wand there, that stupid, cursed wand.
He tapped the counter with a long, clawed finger, smile widening. "No need to confirm. I can see it written all over your face. Whatever you picked up, it seems it had more... influence over you than any other entity in the facility."
Your throat tightened. "It's not like that."
"Mmm." His eyes glinted, unconvinced, as his glowing bulb drifted overhead. "Of course not. You simply forgot how to run properly after spending some quality time in a safe room with some artifact designed for...? Survey says? Pleasure, defense?" He chuckled, low and cruel. "Perhaps something else~?"
You nearly choked on your own spit. "I-! It-! That's-!"
He raised a hand, silencing you with a lazy wave. "No matter. The point stands. It killed you as surely as any monster could have. A pity that you lost it, though. I would have liked to examine it myself."
You slumped, mortified, wishing the dark would swallow you whole.
Sebastian leaned closer, grin wicked. "Next time, try to survive long enough to bring it back to me, hm? I'd very much enjoy... experimenting."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands.
"Distracted," he repeated softly, savoring the word.
The shop lights flickered, mocking you, then went dark.
The next run began cleaner, sharper.
You pushed out of the starting room with your shoulders squared, jaw set. The echoes of the last death clung to you like static, but this time, you weren't letting yourself slip. No wandering thoughts. No stupid distractions.
Room after room, you moved with precision. Your steps were measured, weapons ready, eyes darting over every corner. Entities barely slowed you. You cleared puzzles in record time without backtracking. Your breathing was steady, calm, and collected.
It was almost perfect.
Redemption.
By the time you were crawling through the vent into the shop, you were buzzing with relief. Your pulse slowed and your grip loosened. Seeing Sebastian, lounging in his little room as though the world didn't exist outside his shop, it almost made you smile.
Then you saw it.
On the stand behind him, propped neatly as though it were a priceless artifact: the wand.
Your heart plummeted.
Of course it had come back here. Of course it hadn't vanished into nothingness like other anomalies sometimes did. Of course! No, it was here, gleaming faintly, mocking you with its soft little hum.
Sebastian followed your gaze and smirked. "Ah. I see you've noticed the new addition to my collection."
You swallowed, throat dry. "...Why do you have that?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He leaned back, gesturing to it like a curator unveiling his finest work. "Recovered artifacts always return here, eventually. This one was practically eager." His voice lowered, sly. "I imagine you know why that is."
Heat flared in your cheeks. "Y-you don't-"
"Oh, but I do!" He plucked the wand from the shelf, holding it delicately between his claws like a poisonous plant. "Its properties are fascinating. A semi-sentient anomaly, designed to pacify the monsters of the Hadal Blacksite nonviolently. It seems to respond to stress responses, such as laughter and panic, but especially resistance. Multiplying phantom stimuli until the subject is overwhelmed. Quite ingenious, really. I call it a Pacification Tool, a tickling generator."
The word landed like a slap to the face. Tickling.
Your stomach twisted. Sebastian had said it so casually! As if he were discussing a lock-picking set or a keycard.
Sebastian tilted his head, studying you. His grin sharpened. "Curious. Some runners can endure it with minimal trouble. Others, however..." His bright blue eyes flicked deliberately toward you. "...cannot handle its effects in the slightest."
You prayed that the floor would eat you alive.
"You d-don't-" you stammered, defensive, your voice pitching higher. "You don't know that's what happened."
"Don't I?" He leaned forward, wand resting lazily against his palm. "One moment, you're alive, you find this item, and bring it into the saferoom. Twenty minutes later, you stumble out of the saferoom dazed, breathless, and die to the Searchlights like a novice. And now, you can't even look at this wand without blushing. Tell me again how I'm incorrect?"
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "If you say one more word, I swear-"
"Swear what?" His smile widened, all teeth.
"T-The very next flash beacon I find-"
His face twitched. He tapped the wand against the counter, slow, taunting. "Fine, then. For a demonstration-"
You froze. "W-wait. Don't even think about it-!"
Too late.
He flicked his wrist.
The wand burst to life brighter than before. It recognized you, and it remembered every spot on your body. Phantom hands exploded around you, not just the fingers this time, but brushes, combs, little pokers of air scratching across every vulnerable inch. Your underarms were attacked at once, bristles dragging in dizzying circles. Your ribs jolted as invisible comb teeth jabbed rhythmically. Your feet lit up with flickering pokes, heels to toes, while brushes swept cruelly over your arches.
You shrieked, stumbling backward. "SebAHAHAHHSTIAHAHAN!! HAHAHAHAHAH NONONOOAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Your body folded, laughter ripping out of you uncontrollably. It was sharper this time, more complex, as though the wand was proudly showing off all the new tricks it could do. You collapsed onto the floor, writhing, grabbing at empty air while phantom tools shredded every ounce of control you had left.
"HAHAHAHAH- P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAA-!! G-GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHREE!!!" Your words broke into squeals as something that felt like a feather duster fluttered against your neck.
"Interesting. It really, really likes you." Sebastian's laugh cut through, rich and amused. "It's incredible. I can practically feel how happy the wand is, getting to tickle you again. You must be more sensitive than I thought. Just look at you."
You kicked helplessly, tears streaming down your face, throat aching with laughter. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All you could see was the shopkeeper's silhouette above you, perfectly composed, amused like this was the best entertainment he'd had in months. To be honest, it probably was.
"Oh, I don't think you are." He twirled the wand in his fingers, and the phantom brushes redoubled on your stomach, circling your belly button mercilessly. "For that, you'd have to stand up first."
You convulsed, shrieking, laughter pouring out until your voice cracked.
Finally, finally, the pressure eased. The phantoms vanished, leaving you in a crumpled heap on the shop floor, wheezing and giggling uncontrollably. Your body tingled, trembling with aftershocks.
Sebastian slid the wand back onto the shelf as casually as one might set down a quill. "Effective, isn't it?"
You lay there, sprawled, sweat-drenched, cheeks blazing red. You wanted to be furious, to scream at the fish who had just tormented you. Instead, another laugh sputtered out of you, breathless and broken. "Ihihihi... hahahate youhuhu," you gasped between giggles.
He leaned down low, grin wicked. "You'll thank me later. Now, are you gonna buy anything?" He gestured toward his tail, full of items you'd need for the run.
You glared up at him, still too weak to stand. Then, you turned your gaze to the wand.
Sensing what you were about to demand, he cut you off before you could start. "It's not for sale. Consider it insurance."
You pointed a shaky finger up at him. "Y-youhuhu... are soho dead. Nehext run, Ihihi'm getting you bahack. Mahark myhy words."
Sebastian chuckled, straightening, utterly unbothered. "Uh-huh, right, looking forward to it."
OH MY GOSH jeez you startled me well anyways hi! this is a really long fic for twordtober oh my gosh heehee- okay well i hope you enjoy the saja boys wrecking each other!!
this is a fic requested by @cryptwig!! thank you so much for the request!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @vqler
Feels Like Freedom
Words: 4,039
Pairing: Ler!Rumi, Lee!Jinu... then Ler!Saja Boys and Lee!Saja Boys
Warnings: lot of fluff
Prompt: Unknown Sensation
The park was quiet that night, the kind of quiet that felt staged, too perfect, too symmetrical. The lamps lit the winding paths in soft yellow arcs, the grass stirred with a wind that smelled faintly of autumn, and for once the city noise seemed swallowed whole by the dark. Jinu sat on the bench with his hands in his hoodie pocket, looking like any other college boy killing time, when in truth he was waiting.
She showed up without fanfare. Rumi didn't drift, didn't sneak. She came striding down the path with the same confidence that had made him nervous the first time they'd met. A demon hunter walking openly to meet a demon... something about that still felt like they were tempting fate.
Jinu tilted his head, smiling despite himself. "Did they give you any trouble?" he asked, nodding toward her ankles as though his bird and tiger might still be hiding somewhere nearby.
Rumi's lips quirked. "No. I came right away."
"Yeah, I bet." His giggle slipped out too easily, betraying both his relief that she came and the odd giddiness that always came over him around her.
They sat. At first, the conversation was mundane: trading updates, feigning disinterest in the war both their sides were waging, letting their words circle closer to the dangerous truth that they enjoyed each other's company. Jinu's bird was off in some tree, preening silently, and his tiger lay stretched in the grass like a bored cat, giving them the illusion of privacy.
It was almost too peaceful. Which, Jinu would realize too late, was exactly the setup for Rumi's trap.
"So," she said after a lull, her tone innocent enough to raise alarm bells in his head. "About a few nights ago."
He froze mid-shift on the bench. "What about it?"
"You tickled me."
Jinu blinked, trying not to grin. "Uh... yeah?"
"You think I forgot?" Her voice carried the same seriousness she used when talking about sword training or something.
He laughed nervously. "Come on, that was just... like, a moment. You laughed! You had fun!"
"Oh, I had fun." Her smile spread, sharp but playful. "But now it's your turn."
Before Jinu could process that, she lunged.
Her fingers caught him in the ribs, quick and merciless, and his entire body jolted off the bench like she'd sent a spark through him. "WoahwoahWohohah- W-wahahahaitwahahaitwahahait!!" he yelped, collapsing back against the wood, laughter bursting from his throat in uneven gasps. "HehehehehEEHeee!! RuHUhuhumi, RuhUHUMi!!! Okahahayokayokahahahay!!"
She didn't relent. She had her hunter's focus, her hands quick and precise, skittering along the spots she'd already guessed would be sensitive: his sides, his ribs, the base of his neck. Every touch made him fold, wheezing laughter escaping in a rhythm she didn't let him catch.
"See?" she teased, leaning close like she was interrogating him. "Not so fun when it's happening to you, huh~?"
"HEEEheehee- w-wahahahait!! Nohoho, stohohohop-!! Ruhuhumi, Ihihihi c-caAhahHAHHAn't!!" His words tumbled out, breaking apart with giggles. He tried to wriggle sideways, only for her to follow, pinning him lightly against the arm of the bench.
The tiger raised its head in mild interest, then yawned and went back to dozing.
Jinu's demonic tattoos, usually glowing faintly across his collar and arms, flickered, dimmed, and then vanished altogether when her fingers traced over them. He barely noticed. All he could register was the raw sensation, the way her touches erased Gwi-Ma's ever-present voice in his skull: no commands, no whispering cruelty or shame, just laughter, spilling out of him unrestrained.
"Ughuhuhgh—ohohOHOHohkayokayokaAHAHAYay!!" Jinu wheezed, repeating himself like a broken record. "WohOHahwahahait- waAAHAHAhait!!!" He doubled over, knees bouncing, hoodie riding up to expose the pale stretch of his stomach that she immediately zeroed in on.
Her fingers swirled in his belly button, and he nearly folded in half, laughter pitching into desperate squeaks. His bird flapped down from its perch with a sharp cry, landing on the back of the bench as though to protest his torment, but it didn't intervene. Even his familiars knew he'd sort of brought this on himself.
Minutes (or maybe seconds, time blurred) passed before she finally leaned back, hands withdrawing. Jinu slumped instantly, gasping for air, his hoodie clutched around his middle like it might shield him from another attack. His cheeks were flushed, his hair stuck to his forehead, and he couldn't stop giggling even as he tried to compose himself.
"Y-youhuhu-" he panted, pointing weakly at her, "youhuhu ahahare ehehevil."
"Funny, I said that to you last time. And it's revenge," Rumi corrected, brushing her hands together like one just finishing a chore. "Fair's far."
"Not fair at all," he muttered, still huccuping soft laughter. "Youhuhu're, like, way toohoo good at thahat."
Her smirk softened into something fonder. "I didn't think demons could be ticklish."
"Guess I'm full of surprises." He tugged his hoodie down, still smiling despite himself. "D-don't tell anyone, okay? If the others find out..."
"They'll what? Gang up on you?" She leaned back, crossing her arms smugly. "You'd probably like it." (Foreshadowing is a literary device in whi-)
He sputtered, face heating. "Wh- no, I- I wouldn't- shuhuhut uhup!"
Her laugh rang out bright in the empty park, and though he wanted to argue, Jinu let it linger. For the first time in what felt like forever, the darkness inside him was silent, replaced by something lighter, stranger. Unknown, but not unwelcome.
Eventually, the moment stretched thin, and he knew he had to leave before someone noticed his absence. Rising shakily from the bench, he stuffed his hands back in his hoodie pocket. "You... win this round," he admitted.
"Of course I do," Rumi replied. "But don't think I won't do it again~."
"O-ohoh... I bet," he said, laughing under his breath.
And with that, he turned down the path, his tiger slinking after him and his bird fluttering overhead. He didn't dare look back, but he didn't need to. Rumi's laughter still echoed behind him, a sound so bright it carried him all the way home.
Jinu slipped into the apartment as quietly as possible, hoodie pulled low, sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished wood floor. He told himself he'd just breeze past the living room, disappear into his room, and no one would notice.
Well, that plan shattered the second Mystery's voice drifted from the couch. "You're late."
Jinu flinched. Mystery sat cross-legged, periwinkle hair shrouding half his face. Across the room, Abby was sprawled on the carpet with a dumbbell in one hand, doing lazy reps, while Romance leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone. Baby was perched on a beanbag, silent, watching a drama on the flat-screen.
Every head turned when Jinu froze mid-step. In the awkward silence, Jinu's tiger brushed past him and lay down on a beanbag next to Baby to snooze.
"Uh," Jinu said, trying to look casual. "Hey. What's up?"
Abby grinned, setting the dumbbell aside. "'What's up' is you sneaking out again. What, you think we don't notice?"
Romance slid his phone into his pocket, a smile playing at his lips. "Don't tell me, don't tell me- you were off infiltrating Huntr/x, hm? Whispering sweet nothings to the enemy~?"
Jinu's ears burned. "N-no! I was just-"
"Spill it," Mystery interrupted, his tone as calm as ever, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "You've been disappearing a lot."
Jinu fumbled for an excuse, but the silence stretched too long, and his stupid, nervous laugh bubbled out. "Heehee- I- It wasn't anything like that, I just... Rumi and I were..."
Romance's eyes sharpened. "Oh, this is good. You're glowing, Jinu. Don't think we can't see it."
"Glowing?" Abby sat up, eyes widening in recognition and pointing at him. "He's right! Totally, look at his face! That's not demon work, that's... what, did you two go on a date or something?"
Jinu threw his hands up. "No, no, it wasn't a date! I just-"
Baby, quiet until now, finally looked up from the TV. "Then what happened? What, exactly, did you and Rumi-from-Huntr/x do?" His tone was flat, but everyone leaned in like he'd just issued a command.
Jinu opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. "I... g-got tickled."
A beat of silence followed, so heavy he wondered if he'd accidentally said something in another language.
Then Romance doubled over, laughter spilling out like music. "Tickled? Thahat's what this is about!?"
Mystery's stoic façade cracked into a grin. "Unbelievable."
Abby howled, actually falling back onto the carpet and clutching his stomach. "THEHehE MIHIGHT DEMOHON JIHINU, TIHIHICKLED!"
"Oh, stop it!" Jinu shouted, face blazing, taking off his hoodie and throwing it in the corner. "It's not funny!"
"It's hilarious!" Romance countered, wiping tears from his eyes. "Tell me, tell me! Did you beg? Did you squeal?"
"N-nohoho-!" Jinu sputtered, the giggle betraying him instantly.
They roared even harder.
Even Baby's lips twitched, just barely, before he looked back at the screen with forced indifference.
Jinu flopped onto the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands. "I hate all of you."
"Ahaww, don't be mad~!" Abby teased, crawling closer to nudge his shoulder. "We're just surprised. Ticklish demons! That's new lore, bro!"
Romance leaned in with mock seriousness. "Maybe the Demon King's greatest weakness is feather dusters. We should report this!"
Mystery's smirk softened as he studied Jinu, who still shook with leftover laughter he couldn't entirely suppress. "You really don't look miserable, though. You look... lighter."
The comment hushed the group just a fraction. Abby glanced away, Romance pocketed his grin, and even Baby seemed to be listening now.
Jinu lowered his hands, blinking at Mystery. "... So what if I do?"
Romance exhaled, suddenly thoughtful. "It's just... been a while, you know? Since any of us..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. "...felt something like that."
Abby nodded, quieter than usual. "We fight, we train. We obey. But laughing like that? Haven't done that since..." He exhaled, staring off into space. "...since before."
The word 'before' hung heavy... before they'd been bound to the Demon King, before their humanity had been scrubbed away.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The faint sound of Baby's drama played in the background, oddly poignant.
Finally, Baby broke the silence with his low, even tone, turning to look at Jinu. "So. Tickling." He didn't smile, but his voice carried the slightest hint of curiosity. "That's what made you feel human again?"
Jinu swallowed, hesitant but honest. "Y-yeah. It... it shut everything else out. Just laughing, just being there. No... Gwi-Ma. No orders, no shame. Just... me."
His voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly the room felt fragile, like one wrong move would shatter the unspoken truth between them.
Romance leaned back, softer now. "Well. Maybe we should all try it."
That earned him a round of incredulous looks.
"You're joking," Abby said.
But Mystery's smirk returned, sly this time as if he were squinting underneath his hair. "Are you?"
Romance shrugged, but his eyes glinted. "Well, maybe not. We could use a little... experimentation."
Jinu groaned, already sensing the disaster brewing. "Guys, please- don't get any ideas-"
But that spark was there, that seed planted. And judging by the grins spreading across their faces, it was only a matter of time before this apartment descended into chaos. It was a powder keg.
The quiet didn't last long.
Romance was the first to move, like always, walking forward to lean on the back of the couch with that lazy, mischievous grin of his. "You know," he said, stretching his arm dramatically, "we're idols. We might get asked to do this on some variety show someday."
Abby snorted. "What, tickle each other?"
Romance wiggled his fingers teasingly in the air. "You know those challenges. They're weird, like that hot sauce challenge."
Wordlessly, everyone looked at Baby, who just smirked proudly.
Romance continued, "Anyways, it wouldn't be the strangest thing they threw at us."
Mystery raised an unimpressed brow from his seat on the couch. "Why do humans want us to debase ourselves for their amusement? Tickling would be absurd."
"Is it?" Romance leaned down casually and, before Mystery could react, jabbed two fingers into his side.
Instantly, Mystery, the ever-composed, brooding figure, jolted like he'd been electrocuted. A sharp yelp escaped him, followed by a burst of helpless giggles that shattered his entire mystique in two seconds flat.
"HEHEHEe- WhahAHAHhat-?!" Mystery twisted away, clutching his ribs, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. His sweater slipped as he curled, and he desperately tried to smother his own giggles with his sleeve as he rubbed at the spot Romance had poked him.
The room exploded.
"NO WAY!!" Abby cried, crawling toward the couch and sitting beside his bandmate. "Mystery?! You're that ticklish!?"
Romance looked smug, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Ah, what can I say? I have a gift for finding weak spots."
Mystery glared through his hair, but the blush on his neck betrayed him. "D-dohon't- dohohon't make a bihihig deheal-!" His protest was cut off in another squeak when Abby poked his ribs experimentally. Mystery folded instantly, crumbling sideways into Abby's lap, giggling like a kid. "HehehehHEEhee-!! N-nohoHohOo, StohOhohohOp!!"
Abby's jaw dropped. "Oh, this is golden." He wiggled his fingers across Mystery's sides just to prove it, and Mystery writhed helplessly, clutching at his wrists. "He really can't take it, guys!"
Romance chuckled. "Forget the Demon King, all they need to do is poke Mystery, and the war's over."
Jinu leaned forward from the armchair, still flushed from his earlier humiliation, but unable to resist the grin spreading on his face. "See? It's not so bad once you get used to it."
Mystery shot him a betrayed expression between hiccupping giggles. "N-NohOhoHot- fuhuHuHUhUhunny-!!"
"It kinda ihis," Jinu teased, his own giggle slipping through. "Besides, I told you guys. Ticklish demons. It's a thing."
Abby grinned wider. "Well, then we've gotta find out who's the most ticklish, right?"
"Oh, no," Jinu groaned, already feeling dread pool in his stomach. "Don't even start-"
But it was too late. Romance clasped his hands together dramatically. "Gentlemen, I propose a challenge. A noble experiment in the name of science... and fanservice."
Baby, still on the beanbag, finally turned his head from the TV. His expression didn't change, but his tone carried dry amusement. "You're actually suggesting a tickle competition."
Romance's smirk widened, enunciating with his hands as he explained. "Why not? Think about it. If a variety show does spring it on us, wouldn't it be better to train for it? Build immunity, I guess?"
"Build immunity?" Abby barked a laugh. "Dude, that's not how tickling works!"
Jinu buried his face in his hands, chuckling despite himself. "Youhu guys are insane..."
"Insane," Romance echoed, eyes glittering, "or visionary?" He wiggled his eyebrows goofily.
Mystery sat up finally, still giggling under his breath as he shoved Abby away. His cheeks were pink, his composure in tatters. "Ihihi refuhuhuse," he muttered, though his voice cracked halfway through.
...which only made the others laugh harder.
"See, he's scared already," Abby teased. "That's how you know he's doomed."
Baby exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. "Fine. But if we're doing this, it has to be fair. Everyone gets tested."
Jinu peeked through his fingers, groaning. "This is going to end badly..."
Romance leaned closer, his grin positively wicked. "End badly for you, maybe. End gloriously for the rest of us."
The challenge was sealed, and it didn't take long to escalate.
"Alright," Abby said, rolling his shoulders, trying to play it cool. "If we're really doing this experiment, then bring it on. I'm not scared."
That bravado lasted all of... thirty seconds.
Romance smirked and pounced first, fingers clawing into Abby's sides from behind the couch. Abby flinched but managed to grit his teeth, shoving him off. "Hah- nice try, playboy. You're gonna have to do better than-"
Hungry for vengeance, Mystery swooped in without a word, jabbing Abby's ribs, and that's when the façade shattered. Abby's laugh burst out like a gunshot, sharp and wild. "bAHAhahAHAHA-!! NoHOHO WhAHahAIT-!!"
"Those abs won't protect you now," Romance teased, already grabbing the hem of Abby's shirt. "Let's see what's hiding under here."
"NoOhOHoHO, DOhohon't youhUhu- dohoHon't youhuHU DahahahARe!!" Abby thrashed, but Jinu, sitting beside him, joined in, tugging his shirt up until his sculpted stomach was exposed. The sight alone made the group chuckle.
"Just look at that target," Mystery mused, grinning softly. "Wide open."
Abby didn't even have time to curse before all three of them attacked. Fingers dove straight for his belly, and especially his belly button, which turned out to be devastating. Abby's deep voice dissolved into shrieking laughter, bouncing around the apartment.
"StaaHAHHAHAHAHA- NOHoHOHO, NOOOhOOHO!! N-NOHoHoHOT THEHEHEHERE!!!" he howled, twisting so hard he nearly flipped the coffee table. "IHIHI-IHiHIHI CAhahaHAN'T- AHhAHAHAHA!! OhOhOHOH MYyHYHY GOHoHOHHD!!"
Romance, merciless, traced slow circles around Abby's belly button, cooing, "Ohhh, this is the spot, isn't it~? Your strength is useless here~!"
"SHUHUHUHUT UhUhUHUP!!" Abby cried, tears in his eyes from laughing. His arms flailed weakly, but with Mystery pinning his wrists and Jinu digging into his sides, he was doomed.
The spectacle left Baby and the tiger both staring impassively from their beanbags, but Jinu caught Baby's almost-smile out of the corner of his eye, which only encouraged him further.
Finally, Abby collapsed forward, flat onto the carpet, wheezing, sweat beading on his brow. "OhOHOHOKAhahAY!! Y-YohUhUHU WIHIHIN!!"
The others fell back, triumphant.
"Science says," Romance announced smugly, "that Abby is extremely ticklish."
"Sh-ShuHUt it!!" Abby groaned, curling protectively around his stomach.
But Romance wasn't safe for long.
"Your turn, loverboy," Mystery said smoothly, lunging forward and making to grab Romance.
Romance yelped, scrambling backward. "Woah, woah, woah- gentlemen, careful-!" He raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning like he could talk his way out. "Y-you're touching dangerous territory. We wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea~!"
"Flirt all you want," Abby growled, already recovered enough to grab him by the ankle. "You're not wriggling out of this."
"Waitwaitwait-!! Think of the optics-!!" Romance laughed nervously as they dragged him down onto the couch. "T-The fans will kill you for ruining my perfect image-!!"
Mystery cut him off by digging into his ribs, and Romance's composure shattered instantly. His laughter rang out bright and melodic, spilling over the room.
"GAHhahAHHAHA-! OkaHAHAyokaahahya-!! M-mYHHYStery, youHUhu TraahAHAITOR!!!" He kicked his legs, twisting in their grip, still trying to flirt his way through it. "I-IihIhif youHuhu keehEHep touHUhuching me LihiHike thihihis, IhiHIHI'll hahahave toho BuuHUhUy youHuhu dihihiNner fiHiHIhiRST-!"
Jinu snorted, joining in to scribble over his sides. "Well, you are ticklish!"
"SToHohoHOahp-!! N-NoHoHO!! IhiHihi'm sTIhIhill- stiHIhIll chahahAhArming-!!" Romance wheezed, his words tripping over laughter. "Y-YouHuhU cahHAhan't tahHAHahake thahahAHt froHohOm MeHEhehE- HAhaAHAH!! NoHoHOHo, NOhOHOT MyHYHy RiHIHIBS!!"
Abby leaned up with wicked glee, slipping his fingers under Romance's shirt to poke at his stomach. "Dangerous territory, huh? Feels like pretty weak territory to me, dude~."
Romance shrieked and tried to twist away, laughter bubbling out in frantic waves. Even while he begged, he still tossed out desperate, half-flirty lines. "S-SOhOho RouhuHUgh WIhIHIhIth mEheHHee-!! YoUHuHu'll RuHuHUIN MyHyHy RehHEHEHEPUhUhUTAHAHATION!"
Mystery smirked down at him. "Oh, it's pretty ruined already."
The apartment dissolved into pure chaos after that.
Abby let go of Romance, only for Romance to lunge at Jinu, pinning him against the couch and scribbling mercilessly over his ribs. Jinu squealed, kicking his legs, his giggles echoing high-pitched and wheezy.
Mystery took the distraction to pounce on Abby, returning the favor by digging into his exposed stomach. Abby bellowed, thrashing so hard he almost knocked Mystery into the wall.
"VEhEHEHNEhEHHEANCE!!!" Abby roared with helpless laughter.
The couch tipped, cushions flying as Jinu and Romance squealed with surprise. The coffee table skidded half an inch across the floor from the impact of Abby's foot. Someone's shoe flew off, landing in the kitchen.
The room was a battlefield, alliances forming and crumbling in seconds. Jinu and Mystery briefly teamed up against Romance again, only for Abby to betray them both and tackle Jinu back onto the carpet. Romance seized the moment to tickle Mystery's knees, and Mystery folded instantly, laughing so hard he lost all strength in his limbs.
"T-TrHAhahHAAHAHAITOHOhORS!!! AHhahHAHAALL oHoHOHOF YOuHUHUHU!!!" he cried, giggling uncontrollably.
Even Baby wasn't safe. A stray hand brushed his socked foot when Jinu tried to crawl away, and Baby kicked him square in the shoulder back into the pile, not hard, but enough to remind them he was there.
"Don't," Baby warned, his voice flat as ever. But Jinu caught the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes.
The laughter filled the apartment like a storm, blending with shouts, squeals, and cries for mercy. It was reckless, it was ridiculous, but for the first time in years, they all sounded alive.
Finally, the storm slowed, the bows strewn across the carpet and couch like casualties of war. Everyone was panting, flushed, eyes glassy with tears, except for one.
Baby sat upright on his beanbag, arms crossed, completely unscathed. The others had been reckless, wild, and undone, but Baby still looked like a statue.
Jinu, cheeks burning, pushed himself up on trembling arms. "HEehEHehehe... youuhuhu've just been sihihitting there. Nohohot fahair."
Baby tilted his head. "Yeah, someone had to stay in control."
"Yeah?" Jinu said, grinning through his breathlessness. "Let's see how long that lasts."
Mystery perked up immediately. "Ohh, I like where this is going."
Abby, still sprawled out, wheezed, "You guys ahahare insahahane. Hehehe's... hehe's not tihicklish."
"We'll find out," Jinu replied, already stumbling toward the beanbag.
At first, Baby didn't even react. Jinu jabbed experimentally at his ribs. Romance leaned forward, fascinated. Nothing. Mystery poked his side.
"Hey, stay down." Baby scribbled under Mystery's underarm, sending him back to the floor in squealing laughter. "You guys are wasting your breath," he said flatly, eyes half-lidded.
But Jinu wasn't backing down. With a sharp grin, he dropped low and dug into Baby's stomach, fingers scabbling with purpose. Romance joined instantly, hands doubling the assault.
For a moment, it seemed hopeless. Baby's jaw clenched, his face blank as stone. And then...
"...mmmMhhffhfhfhff- pfftaahahahaha!!"
The laugh erupted deep and rumbly, startlingly rich. The room froze for a second, jaws dropping, before the boys dissolved into stunned giggles of their own.
"Ohoh my god! Baby's laughing~!" Romance cried.
"It's real!!" Abby barked out, wide-eyed.
Baby twisted, struggling to regain control, but Jinu and Romance pressed harder, circling his belly button and pinching at his sides. The stoic façade crumbled, his face flushed, his lips trembling with sound he clearly didn't want to give.
"Ghhhuhuhuhh- stohohOhohahap- n-nohohohohoho-!"
It wasn't just laughter. There was a slip, a crack into something softer, almost babbling, before Baby snapped his mouth shut again, furious with himself.
The boys went silent at the sound, blinking at him in shock.
Then, with sudden force, Baby surged upright. "Okay, fihine." In a single sweep, he knocked both Jinu and Romance backward, his calm restored in an instant.
"I won't take shit from you..." Baby scribbled over Abby's belly, making him cackle.
"...or you..." Baby squeezed Jinu's ribs, causing the demon to giggle helplessly.
"...or you..." Baby grabbed Romance's foot and scribbled over his sole, making him shriek and flail around.
"...and especially... not you." Baby shot his hands back down under Mystery's underarms, who kicked his feet as he squealed with laughter.
Irrefutably, Baby was the one looming victorious, as the other four, defeated, panted for breath. Jinu and Mystery were tangled on the carpet, Abby was groaning against the couch, and Romance was wheezing into one of the couch cushions. Only Baby sat tall, unruffled, as if the outburst had never happened.
The room buzzed with aftershocks of laughter, heavy breathing, and hearts pounding. For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Jinu, flat on his back, stared at the ceiling. His chest still heaved, but his mind felt clearer than it had in years. And for the first time, they all wondered if the Demon King's mission was worth obeying. After all, if this is what humanity felt like, freedom tasted so much better.
excuse me? EXCUSE ME??? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY YOU LITTLE- oh hey there!! hihihi this is another tickle fic for our favorite god of mischief with a friend's sona!! i think its super cute and i really liked doing the research for the rambles at the beginning- also!! i know in the Loki tv show, its revealed that Asgardian is an old-timey Norwegian, but i think Icelandic looks cooler lmao- the translations are super finnicky so if any of them are weird thats why- anyways!! i hope you enjoy!!
this is a fic requested by @softcloudystars!! thank you so much for the request!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @august-anon
The hum of activity in the Avengers compound had settled into its late-afternoon lull. The others were scattered. Tony had locked himself in the lab, Steve had retreated to the gym, and Natasha had vanished somewhere that was decidedly not anyone else's business. For once, the main common room was quiet, quiet except for the sound of one particularly enthusiastic mortal holding court over the coffee table like it was his personal podium.
Sammy was perched sideways on the arm of the couch, legs swinging as though gravity was more of a polite suggestion than a rule. His curly blonde hair bounced with every emphatic gesture of his hands, his voice bubbling with excitement as he rattled off his latest obsession.
"-and that's why Snorri Sturluson probably got it wrong. See, in some versions, you don't just borrow Freyja's falcon cloak, you're described as actually shapeshifting into a bird yourself, which makes way more sense if you think about how many forms you canonically took. I mean, who borrows a magic cloak when you've already got your own polymorph ability on tap, right?"
Sammy hardly paused for breath, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. He leaned forward conspiratorially, eyes sparkling as if he were delivering forbidden knowledge to an eager pupil. "And don't even get me started on the whole... your children thing. Half the sagas can't decide if Sleipnir was a gift, a punishment, or just Tuesday afternoon after a particularly bad bet. Like, buddy, you became the mother of an eight-legged horse, what were you doing that weekend?!"
Across from him, Loki lounged on the couch in what could only be described as a study in practiced disinterest. He was sprawled with predatory grace, long legs crossed, one arm draped lazily along the backrest. A book sat open in his lap, untouched for the better part of an hour. The God of Mischief's emerald eyes glinted as they tracked the mortal's animated movements, though his expression remained maddeningly unreadable.
"Do continue," Loki drawled, his voice smooth as glass. "It is endlessly entertaining to hear you recite butchered versions of my people's history as though you're any kind of authority on the matter."
Sammy froze mid-sentence, blinking wide-eyed. "Hey, hey, I didn't butcher anything! I researched this! Extensively! Do you know how many PDFs I had to dig through? My poor Google Drive is crying." He jabbed a finger at Loki, his grin reappearing like lightning. "Besides, you didn't deny it. Which means I'm at least kind of right."
Loki's lips curved upward in the faintest smirk. "Or perhaps I simply enjoy watching you flap your tongue like an overexcited sparrow. There is a certain... charm to your delusion."
Sammy gasped. "Delusion?? Sir, I'll have you know this is top-tier scholarship!!" He leaned closer, practically vibrating with the need to press the point. "You can't just say 'oh it's a delusion myeh myeh myeh' and expect me to sit down quietly like a good little mortal. I know things now. You'd best bet I'm gonna one-up you in trivia night."
"Trivia night," Loki repeated, the words dripping with disdain, lifting a single brow in that imperious way that made mortals wilt. "You believe centuries of wisdom, battle, sorcery, and lived experience could be bested by a parlor game played with cheap pens and cheaper beer?"
Sammy grinned all the wider. "If the shoe fits!!"
The smirk twitched into something sharper, but Loki said nothing. He let the mortal continue, watching the way Sammy's hands windmilled through the air as he launched into another tangent about mythological inconsistencies.
"-and then, in the Prose Edda, there's the whole debate about whether the mead of poetry was actually honey-based or more symbolic, which is hilarious because you'd think if anyone knew what they were drinking, it'd be the Vikings. But nope! Historians are still arguing about it a thousand years later. Bet you didn't expect me to have that up my sleeve, huh~?" Sammy leaned precariously close, balancing on the couch arm with a grin like a cat that had gotten into the cream. His nose was only a foot from Loki's, his voice lowering into a triumphant singsong. "Face it, Reindeer Games~! You've been out-nerded by a mortal!"
For a long, weighted second, Loki did not move. His eyes locked onto Sammy's with quiet intensity, the air between them thrumming like a drawn bowstring. Then, ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth curled upward.
"Adorable," he murmured.
The single word landed like a thunderclap. Sammy's grin faltered. Heat flushed instantly across his cheeks. He sputtered something incoherent, then abruptly swung himself off the couch arm, boots thudding on the floor. "Nope!! Nope, nope, nope, you don't get to call me that, we're not doing this!!"
Loki's chuckle followed him as he half-skipped, half-fled toward the kitchen. "Oh, but we are~."
And for the first time all afternoon, Loki closed his book.
Sammy had just enough time to grab a glass of water from the kitchen counter before he realized he'd made a tactical error.
Because Loki had followed him.
The god leaned against the doorframe with the ease of someone who owned the room simply by standing in it. His dark hair framed his face, shadows clinging to him despite the fluorescent kitchen lights. His smile was small, sharp, and far too amused.
Sammy, ever the brave little gremlin, sipped his water like nothing was wrong. "What? Did I break your brain with the mead-of-poetry thing? It's okay, Loki, happens to the best of us."
"You're rather proud of yourself, aren't you?" Loki asked, voice low.
"Obviously," Sammy replied, grin widening. "Do you know how many people get to say they managed to stump the Loki Laufeyson? Zero, zip, and nada. Until me!"
He expected an eye-roll, maybe a scoff. What he did not expect was for Loki to push off the doorframe, stride forward with liquid grace, and close the distance between them until the god was standing just behind him at the counter.
Sammy stiffened, glass halfway to his mouth. "Uh. Personal space, much?"
"Personal space is a Midgardian invention," Loki murmured, leaning down so his breath brushed Sammy's ear. "We had no need for such things in Asgard."
Sammy's grip on the glass wobbled. "T-thahat's... that's cultural appropriation of my bubble," he managed, the words breaking into a laugh he couldn't quite contain. "Seheriously, you're doing that voice thihing againnn-"
The voice thing only got worse. Loki bent lower, his lips nearly grazing the curve of Sammy's ear as he spoke in a tongue Sammy didn't recognize. The syllables were rough and rolling, ancient, with a cadence that made the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Þú ert ljósið sem hrærir skugga míns hjarta," Loki whispered.
Sammy's brain short-circuited. His first instinct was to blurt, 'Oh my god, that's hot-' but his survival instincts barely caught it in time. Instead, he spluttered, "Youhu-!! You can't just-!! Say elvish incantations in people's eehears!! That's cheating!!"
Loki chuckled, the sound low and predatory. "Not elvish, little sparrow. Asgardian. An endearment."
Sammy went red so fast it was a miracle he didn't ignite. "You-!! Youhu cahan't juhust-!! That's-!! Nope, no thank you, denied, vetoed!!" He twisted on his heel to escape, but Loki was faster. A hand pressed to the counter on either side of him, caging him in.
"You're trembling," Loki observed softly. His breath skated across Sammy's ear again. "How curious, that such a sunny little mortal could be undermined by mere words~."
Sammy tried to retort, but what came out was a squeaky burst of laughter as Loki let a single finger trail feather-light up the side of his neck. He yelped, shoulders jerking up defensively. "H-HheehEy!! Thahahat's cheheheating, toohoo!!"
"Is it~?" Loki purred, tracing again, slower this time, barely-there touches that sent ticklish sparks racing over Sammy's skin. "I've done nothing but speak. Surely such a... learned scholar such as yourself can endure a whisper~?"
Sammy dissolved into helpless giggles, twisting against the counter. "YOuHuhu- youhuhu KNohohow exahactly whahat you're dohohoing!!" he accused, his words stammered through laughter.
"Indeed I do." Loki's smirk was audible, his tone smug as velvet. He dipped close again, voice dropping to a murmur that brushed warm against Sammy's ear. "Tell me, sunshine... just how many obscure sagas will protect you from me~?"
Sammy squealed out a laugh, burying his face in his hands. "Thihihis ihihis illehegal!!! Thehere's gohohotta be a lahahaw about this sohohomewhereee-!!"
Loki hummed, a sound of deep, satisfied amusement. "Not here, little mortal~. Not with me~."
And Sammy realized, with dawning horror (and delight), that Loki had no intention of stopping any time soon. Sammy had survived plenty of ridiculous situations since moving into the Avengers compound. He'd been caught in Stark's half-finished drone prototypes, used as bait during a prank war with Peter, and once gotten his hoodie caught in the doors of the Quinjet. He had not, however, been prepared for the unholy combination of Loki's velvet voice and feather-light fingers.
"Hold still~," Loki crooned, as though Sammy weren't already practically folded in half trying to escape the brush of those hands.
"WH- nOhohoho!!! Ihihi refuhuhuse to pahaharticipate in whatever Asgardian tohohorture thihis ihihis!!" Sammy gasped, laughter spilling out before he could clamp it down. His shoulders were hunched to his ears, his whole body curled like a spring.
Loki, naturally, looked as composed as ever, cool as a cucumber. He was half leaning against the counter, one arm lazily blocking Sammy's escape route, while the other hand traced slow, maddening lines up the side of his neck. Not scratching or pressing, just barely grazing, like the ghostly shadow of a touch.
Sammy squealed and kicked uselessly at the cabinet behind him. "S-SihIhiHihirrr!! M-Mihihister Mihihischihief!! Evihihil deheheity!!! Dohoho youhuhu mihihihind????"
"Oh, not in the slightest~," Loki purred.
And then he bent lower, lips brushing dangerously close to the shell of Sammy's ear. He spoke again in that ancient tongue, consonants rolling like thunder, vowels stretched low and intimate.
"Þín hlátur er sætari en mjaðr~."
Sammy's giggles spiked into full-blown laughter, his knees giving out so he half-sank against the counter. "YoUHuHuHu cHAhahahAn't JuhUHust shaahHAy EldrIhihihitch pihiHiHIckup lIHIhInes and ExpEhehEHEct mEHehEHHE toHoHoHoHo- suuuHUhUHuRvIhIhIve!!!"
"I think you'll survive quite nicely~," Loki murmured. His hand shifted, thumb stroking just under Sammy's jawline, sending another shock of helpless laughter through him. "Though I must admit, seeing you unravel is... delightful~."
Sammy flailed, trying to duck, but Loki caught him with ease. One long arm curled around his middle, pulling him flush against the god's chest as though he weighed nothing. Sammy kicked and wriggled, but it was trying to fight a marble statue that also happened to have the most infuriating smirk in the Nine Realms.
"ThiHIhihis IhIHiHisn't fahHAhaIr!!!" Sammy yapped between gasps of laughter. "YouHuHuHu're SuhuhuhUpPosed to behEHehe theheeh scaHhahAHry viHiHihiLlain guHUhUY!!! NohOHohOt- whiHIhisper-sohoHorcery tihIHIHickle MohohOHnster!!!"
"Monster~?" Loki echoed, amused. His lips grazed Sammy's ear again, and this time he deliberately exhaled a slow breath across the sensitive skin.
Sammy yelped and jumped, doubling over in Loki's hold with frantic giggles. "AhahahAH!! Youhhu knOhohow whahahat youhUhu're doHoHoing!! YouhUhuhu absohOHolutely knoHoHow whahaHAht youhuhu're DOhOhOIng!!"
"I've known many things, sunshine~," Loki replied smoothly. "What I didn't know is how enlightening your reactions would be. A mortal, rendered helpless by a breath, a whisper, and a touch." He dragged his fingertips down the curve of Sammy's neck again, relishing the way the boy's laugh cracked high-pitched and desperate. "You melt so easily~."
Sammy tried to rally. He puffed his cheeks, wheezing, "NohohOHo!! NohoHope, Ihihi'm resiHIhihisting!! LoHooOhook at thihihis steheheheel wihihihill!!" He punctuated the declaration with more helpless snickers, his whole body shaking against Loki's.
Loki chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest and into Sammy's back. "Steel, hm~? You, little sparrow, are butter on a Midgardian summer day."
"RuhuHuHUDE!!!" Sammy squealed, though the laugh that followed ruined any chance of indignation. He buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the sound of Loki's voice.
But Loki, of course, was merciless. He leaned down, his mouth close enough that his words vibrated against Sammy's skin. "Do not hide from me~. I want to hear you. Every gasp, every giggle, every little squeal~."
Sammy practically collapsed. His knees buckled again, and if not for Loki's steady arm around his waist, he would've slid to the floor in a heap. His laughter turned breathless, broken up by hiccups of protest. "L-Lohohoki, plEhehehehaseee!! IhIhihi cahahan'ttt!!!"
"You can," Loki corrected gently. "And you will, until I decide otherwise."
Sammy thumped a weak fist against his captor's arm, more symbolic than threatening. "YouhuhUhu're ehehehehevilll!!!"
"And yet," Loki whispered, brushing his lips so close to Sammy's ear it was almost a kiss, "you're enjoying this as much as I am~."
Sammy melted outright. His arms dropped, his head thunked back against Loki's shoulder, and laughter spilled freely without even a token resistance. His voice was hoarse, his grin wild and uncontainable. "Y-Youhuhu're the wohohoHOhorsttt!!!"
"And you are exquisite when you're being tickled," Loki said, victorious. By the time Loki maneuvered them both back into the living room, Sammy was in tatters. His giggles still sputtered out in little bursts, his cheeks glowing pink, his curls sticking damply to his forehead. He barely had time to realize what was happening before Loki sat down with regal ease on the couch and drew Sammy straight into his lap.
"W-Wahahahit, nohohohonononoohoho!!" Sammy yelped, flailing as he was unceremoniously arranged across the god's thighs with his back against his chest like a wayward kitten. His heels kicked the air uselessly. "YOuhuhu cahahahn't-!!"
Loki's arm looped easily around his waist, securing him in place. "I can," Loki said smoothly. "And I have."
Sammy wriggled, tried to squirm sideways, but every attempt just brought him tighter against Loki's chest. It was hopeless, and he knew it. He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "Thiihihis ihihis uhuhunlahahawful imprihihisonmenttt! Sohohomeone call HR."
"Mm," Loki hummed, resting his chin atop Sammy's curls as though they were simply having a casual conversation. His free hand rose, fingers brushing feather-light at the base of Sammy's neck. "File your complaint after."
Sammy's squeaky laugh cracked out before he could bite it down. "AhaHAHah!! LohOhokiiiii, youhUhu're nohohot eveheheN tryhyhyHying tohoho be fahahahirrr!!"
"Where in my job description does it say I have to be fair?" Loki purred, lips curling close to Sammy's ear. "I am enjoying myself far too much." He let his fingers dance lazily up Sammy's throat to the edge of his jawline, tracing arcs so delicate they could hardly be felt... except that Sammy felt everything.
He squirmed like mad, clutching at Loki's sleeve in a useless attempt to fend off the sensations. "NNoHohOhOhooooo!! LohoHohokiHIHihiiiii!!" Sammy dissolved into giggles, half from Loki's teasing and half from the fingertips teasing over the dip just behind his ear.
Loki shifted him higher, until Sammy was practically curled sideways across his lap, pinned snug in a circle of long arms. One hand traced phantom patterns along the slope of his neck, while the other anchored firmly at his waist, keeping him from tumbling free. Sammy's laughter spilled and sputtered, rising helplessly whenever Loki leaned in to murmur another line in Asgardian.
"Þú gleður mig meira en allir hirðmennirnir.~"
"WhahAHAaht DohohohEs thahAHaht eEheven mHehehehehann!!!" Sammy squealed, trying to bury his face in Loki's chest to escape.
Loki chuckled, his breath warm against Sammy's temple. "You don't need the translation, little one. Your laughter tells me enough."
Finally, when Sammy was nearly boneless in his lap, Loki let his hands still. The giggles trickled into soft, exhausted chuckles. Sammy lay slumped against him, chest heaving, face crimson.
"See~?" Loki murmured, smoothing a curl from Sammy's forehead with surprising gentleness. "You endure, you shine brighter for it."
Sammy groaned, hiding his face in Loki's chest. "Cheatinggg..." he whined.
Loki's laugh rumbled low and satisfied. "Everything about me is cheating, sunshine. You should know that by now."
For a while, the only sound in the common room was Sammy's uneven breathing and the quiet hum of Loki's amusement. The mortal was slumped entirely against him, limbs sprawled bonelessly, his laughter spent. His curls were damp with sweat.
"You're smug," Sammy muttered at last, voice muffled against the dark green fabric of Loki's tunic.
"Correct." Loki's lips twitched.
Sammy's grin betrayed him. He wanted to pout, to regain some kind of footing, but every attempt at indignation collapsed into a warm glow in his chest. He shifted, nestling deeper against Loki's chest with a contented sigh.
For a long moment, Loki simply watched him, eyes narrowing as though studying a riddle he hadn't solved. Then, in a tone softer and more fond than Sammy had ever heard from him, he whispered another line of Asgardian, low and careful:
"Þú ert minn yndislegi gleðigjafi."
Sammy blinked up at him, dazed. "Huh?"
Loki smiled and patted Sammy's head. "Perhaps one day I will tell you. For now... you do not need the translation."
Sammy flushed scarlet, quickly burying his face back in Loki's chest before Loki could see. "Ruhude..." he mumbled, though a small laugh behind it betrayed his delight.
hey there buddy chum pal etc heya there!!! this is a fic for fire emblem: three houses, (a game i have never played so bear with me) some stuff might not be completely accurate but i hope you enjoy!!
this is a fic requested by @gladdygirl18!! thank you so much for requesting!! <3333
this is for TKTober using the prompt list by @vqler
Side Effects May Include...
Words: 1,848
Pairing: Lers!Annette and Dimitri, Lees!Dimitri and Annette
Warnings: Fluff!
Prompt: Side Effect
"Your Highness! I've done it again!"
Annette bounded into the greenhouse courtyard, arms full of a small cloth-wrapped basket that smelled suspiciously of sugar and cinnamon. Dimitri, who had been feeding a hawk perched on his gloved arm, turned at once with a polite smile.
"Good afternoon, Annette. Done... what again?" he asked, setting the hawk on his perch and removing the glove.
"I've baked something new!" she said with a flourish, setting the basket down on the table beside him and whipping the cloth off like someone revealing treasure. Inside sat a neat pile of little pastries, golden brown and swirled with frosting. "These are cinnamon twirls, but with a little magical enhancement. Not dangerous, I promise! It's just, you know, supposed to boost your stamina and senses. Which you could probably use with all that training you do, right?"
Dimitri chuckled softly. "That is thoughtful of you. You needn't trouble yourself, but I would be honored to try one."
He reached for one of the twirls, the frosting glistening faintly with a magical shimmer that suggested Annette had indeed put her spells where her mouth was.
Annette plopped into the seat next to him, beaming as she watched. "Whenever you're ready! I stayed up half the night testing the recipe. Baking is all about precision, Your Highness, and believe me, I had to measure every grain of cinnamon just so. Too much, and it throws off the ratio with the sugar, and then-"
Dimitri nodded politely, already taking a bite, though Annette's... rapid-fire enthusiasm was clearly several steps beyond his experience. The pastry was warm, flaky, and sweet. Dimitri chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed with a small smile. "It is delicious, Annette. You have a true talent."
Her face lit up. "Really? Oh, I was so worried I'd overmixed the dough. If you knead too much, it gets tough, but if you don't knead enough, it falls apart! And then there's the proofing stage, which is an entire ordeal. Honestly, if people think baking is just throwing things into an oven, they've never-"
Dimitri suppressed a laugh, not at her words but at the sheer fire in her eyes as she launched into another tirade about yeast and flour. He had never baked a thing in his life, but her joy was... infectious.
"-and I thought, maybe if I just add a dash of Rune of Vitality in the butter, it'll give the pastry a little kick, you know? I mean, what is even the point of studying magic if you can't make your desserts more fun? That's what I think, anyway. Don't you agree, Your Highness?"
"I... suppose so," Dimitri said carefully. His shoulders shifted, and he frowned faintly. A strange tingling sensation ran down his arm where his sleeve brushed against the table's edge. He adjusted, trying to ignore it, but then Annette leaned across to poke curiously at his plate, and her knuckle accidentally brushed his side.
Dimitri jolted like he'd been struck with static.
"Your Highness?" Annette blinked. "Did I shock you? Or... oh, no, I didn't mess up the rune layering again, did I?"
"N-no, it's nothing," he assured her quickly, but when he reached to set down his fork, his elbow poked into his side, and he flinched again, suppressing an odd laugh.
Annette's eyes narrowed in curiosity. "W-wait a second." She furrowed her brows and then very gently poked his ribs.
The strangled chuckle that escaped him was entirely out of place for the stoic crown prince.
Annette gasped. "Oh my goodness. I think... Did I just make you ticklish?"
"Annette," Dimitri said firmly, though he was already getting red in the face. "I assure you, it must be some temporary... side effect."
Her grin spread ear to ear. "Side effect," she breathed. "That's amazing! I didn't even know magic could do that! Oh, I have to write this down! No, wait, actually-" She leaned forward with suspiciously eager hands. "I need to test it more thoroughly."
"T-test-? Annette, that is wholly unnecessary-"
Too late. Annette's fingers darted forward, brushing lightly against his side again. Dimitri barked out a laugh before he could stop himself, jerking back with surprising clumsiness for someone usually so composed.
"You're telling me to compose myself? You're the one laughing like- Oh, this is too good!!" She was giggling herself now, delighted by his uncharacteristic reaction. She poked his shoulder, then his arm, watching in wonder as every touch sent him into helpless squirms.
Dimitri tried desperately to maintain dignity, clamping his jaw shut even as laughter shook his chest. "ThiHihist Ihihis... uhuhunbehecoming of a prihihince-!"
"This is adorable, Your Highness!" Annette cooed, scooting closer to skitter her fingers along his forearm. He snorted, tugging away, but his big frame had nowhere to go in the narrow courtyard corner. "You're always so serious and all, but now... well, look at you!"
"Of course it isn't! It's special!" Annette beamed at him, her hands hovering mischievously as though ready to pounce again. "I mean, who knew my baking could make the Crown Prince himself laugh? I'm writing this down as my greatest achievement ever!"
Dimitri buried his face in one hand, shoulders shaking, torn between embarrassment and amusement. "Annehehette... youuhuhu ahare incohorrigible."
"And you," she replied brightly, "are ticklish! At least, until the magic wears off."
She wiggled her fingers threateningly, and Dimitri groaned, half-laugh and half-plea, realizing there was no escape from her cheerful "research."
Annette was practically bouncing in her chair, her hands twitching with unspent energy as Dimitri sat there valiantly trying to compose himself. Every time she so much as shifted, his posture stiffened like a man staring down an enemy cavalry charge.
"Your Highness," she said sweetly, drawing out the syllables, "you really should sit still. For research purposes."
"I will not sit still to be tormented," Dimitri answered, managing to sound every inch the noble prince despite his ears burning red.
She giggled and lunged anyway, her small fingers diving toward his side. Dimitri twisted away, but she was faster than he gave her credit for. Her fingertips grazed the curve of his ribs, and he broke into helpless laughter all over again.
"No mercy! For the sake of culinary advancement!" she cried, delighted.
Her hands darted higher, brushing along his neck. Dimitri practically folded in half, laughter bubbling from him like water escaping a cracked dam. His hand flew up instinctively to shield himself, but she was relentless, her cheerful determination overwhelming his knightly defenses.
"Hm... You're really not used to laughing, are you?" Annette teased, blinking as she noticed the way he struggled to fight it back even while his body betrayed him. "That's so sad, Your Highness! Everyone deserves to laugh once in a while!"
He tried to answer, but the only sound that came out was another string of laughs. Annette slowed her attack, smiling softly despite her victory. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it? You don't have to be so serious all the time, you know. Even big, scary princes can laugh sometimes! Like, what if someone tells you a funny joke? Or your friend sneezes in a silly way? It's a valuable habit, laughing. It's the best medicine, I think."
Dimitri, catching his breath, rubbed his face with both hands, shoulders shaking. "...Ihi fear... you have discovered something terrible."
"And I plan to use it!" Annette said proudly, readying her hands again.
Annette pounced once more, but this time Dimitri braced himself. She poked his ribs, waiting for the usual burst of laughter, only to find he didn't even flinch.
She blinked. "H-huh?"
The prince slowly lowered his hands from his face, his expression almost too calm. "Annette," he said gravely, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "It seems... the effect has worn off."
Her eyes went wide, and she gulped. "Uh oh."
In a single smooth motion, Dimitri reached out and caught her wrists. Annette squeaked as he gently but firmly tugged her toward him. "Now," he murmured, leaning in just enough for his shadow to loom, "a true knight cannot allow a lady to bully him endlessly without reprisal."
"W-wait, no fair! Y-you were the test subject!" she protested, but her squeal turned into laughter as Dimitri's gloved fingers found her tummy. He was mercifully restrained, just a few light squeezes, enough to make her wriggle and giggle uncontrollably. "Y-YouHuhUhUr HIhIhIHighness!! ThiHIhis ihihis- EheehEK-! UhUhuNbehehecohohoming of youhUhuhu!" she laughed, kicking her feet.
"Perhaps," Dimitri said, eyes soft with amusement. "But you yourself claimed that even princes should laugh. Surely the same applies to diligent magicians?"
"D-DihihihihIligehehent pahahahastry chehehehfs!" she corrected, squirming in his grasp. "Ahahand youhuhuh're teheheherrible fohohor tuhuhurning ihihit bahahack on mehehehehee!!"
Dimitri chuckled, letting her go at last. Annette collapsed back onto the bench, still laughing breathlessly. After a moment, she sat up, brushing her bangs from her flushed face. "W-wohow... okahay, I admit, I kihinda deserved that."
Dimitri smiled faintly, the warmth in his eyes gentler than the laughter had been. "You... once told me you saw me as a big brother. I believe I understand that sentiment a little better now."
She blinked at him, then beamed, catching her breath. "Yeah! And you bullied me like a big brother would, too!"
"Bullied?" Dimitri repeated, feigning offense. "That was the lightest retaliation imaginable. You left me at your mercy for quite some time."
"Fine, fine," Annette said, waving her hands dramatically. "We'll call it even. But next time I bake, you'd better watch out. You never know what the side effects will be next time!"
He laughed quietly at that, shaking his head. "I'll consider myself warned."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, comfortable and warm. The air smelled faintly of cinnamon, and the sun filtered through the greenhouse glass, casting golden light across the table.
"Thank you, Annette," Dimitri said at last.
"For what?"
"For the pastry. For... the laughter. For reminding me that there's joy to be had in small moments." His gaze softened, and for an instant, he looked far younger than the crown prince she knew.
Annette's smile gentled. "You're welcome, Your Highness. Just... let me know if you ever need more of that joy, okay? I'll be right here. With sugar, and just enough cinnamon."
He chuckled again, a sound less forced than before. "I'll hold you to that."
They rose together, Dimitri walking back toward his hawk, and Annette beginning to take the basket of twirls.
"I suppose I ought to take these back. It would be kind of a hindrance in battle, right?"
"No-!" He turned a little too quickly, extending an arm to her.
She tilted her head a little in confusion, and an awkward silence filled the greenhouse.
He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed, and stood upright, looking off to the side as he spoke in a lowered voice, "They tasted really good, Annette-"
Annette immediately smiled again and nodded. "Certainly! I'll just leave them here for you then!"
With that, Annette skipped out, a lot warmer than before.
