🌲I’m Nemo (she/her) and welcome to my tickle fiction blog! I’m a fantasy nerd, gamer, and hobbyist writer.
🪶The tickling content you’ll find here is primarily fluffy and platonic in nature. This is NOT an explicit or kinky blog.
💚I am open to making friends! Anyone is welcome to send me a PM or drop something in my ask box. The only exception is minors (please do-not-interact).
🚫I will not engage in role play, teasing, IRL meetups, etc. Nor will I tolerate rudeness, hateful messages, or any other kind of harassment.
🌳I hope you enjoy your time here and that this space makes you feel safe, comfy and happy.
A/N- It's been a while since I've written anything or played BG3, so I wanted to write something for ler!Karlach and lee!Tav. The tav (male- uses he/him) is a durge ranger I made in game who has embraced the urge so far but could be redeemable depending on how his story goes and/or who he romances. I also have it in my head where he's the best friend of my durge cleric of Illmater named Phoebe. Anyways, I had fun writing it and I hope whomever reads it likes it too :D.
Fandom- BG3
Pairing- Karlach x Durge Tav (male- uses he/him pronouns in the story). Their relationship is platonic but Karlach does tease him quite a bit. Spoilers for Act 2 included.
WC- ~2,660.
Karlach's able to touch again and the one of the first things she asks for is a cuddle. Tav isn't going to turn down the free heat in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, but he also doesn't anticipate her tickling him.
"How does this feel?"
"Fine. Now stop moving."
"Right, sorry."
…..
"It's been so long since I've done this," Karlach breathed a hushed giggle into Tav's ear. "I almost forget how."
"It's actually quite simple if you'd stop moving and shut up."
There was no true venom in Tav's words as he pressed his back into the tiefling's chest. He was used to the cold and dark. Spending his youth Underdark lended itself to that. But the cold brought on by the Shadow Curse was unnatural. Seizing. It was the kind of cold that seeped into the bones and weighed someone down as if with lead. Tav didn't get cold; but under the Shadow Curse, he was cold. He never thought he'd see the day where he'd be grateful for the appropriately named Last Light Inn.
That was until he realized that they did not have enough beds for everyone to get their own.
If it wasn't for Isobel's shield over the inn, he would've slaughtered everyone that he could get his hands on, including her. He's killed people for less. And honestly? The thought of it made the dark voices in his head purr with delight. Maybe if he coated himself in the Harpers' and tieflings' hot blood, he wouldn't be so cold.
The gentle hum of Karlach's cooled down engine brought him out of his happy, murderous thoughts. He exhaled through his nose. Fine, he grumbled to himself. He'd keep his hands off his scimitar and settle for the free heat he was getting from his companion. There was a tiny part of him that liked to see her happy, gods know why, and he didn't want to cut the moment short. It fascinated him that after spending ten years fighting in the Hells and finally being granted the ability to touch again, the first thing this tank of a woman wants is a cuddle.
"Don't be like that," Karlach huffed again. She moved herself closer when he backed into her. Tav bit back a content sigh when the heat hit his back. "You said it was alright to share the bed. Having second thoughts, soldier?"
Tav clicked his tongue. "No," he muttered. He took a breath before continuing, as her warmth comfortably rolled up his back. "But I would like to sleep."
"I know. I'm just so happy," Karlach's breath hitched as tears pricked her eyes. Gods above, Tav thought. Don't let her start crying. "Ten years is a long time to go without being able to touch someone. I never thought I'd be able to again. And now that I can? I'm buzzing. Things are finally starting to look up for me."
Tav pursed his lips. Dammon told them that her engine fix was temporary. That eventually, it'd burn out and take her with it if she didn't go back to Avernus. So what was one moment of happiness if it didn't last? Either Karlach would go back to the very hell she fought to escape from, or die. None of this mattered.
These words replayed in his mind, waiting for the opportunity to be free, but that moment didn't come. He swallowed them down and instead said, "…Glad you got what you wanted."
Ugh. That felt weird. Maybe the tadpole was starting to affect him.
"Heh, I'm just getting started," Karlach grinned. "The world's probably not ready for unleashed Karlach but it's getting it anyway. Shadowheart said she'd braid my hair next time we're at camp, and Wyll and I are going to wrestle at some point. He actually thinks he's got a leg up on me, and-"
Tav's eyes drooped closed while Karlach spoke. He was too tired to tell her to shut up again, and the likelihood of her actually doing it was slim to none anyway. He breathed heavier, lulled by the heat and the oddly soft pillow that cradled his face. Her voice faded into the background. He was just drifting off to sleep when—
"…Hey soldier?"
Gods dammit.
Tav groaned and begrudgingly opened his eyes. "What?"
He felt her shift behind him. The heat radiating off her got a little bit hotter.
"Could I hold you?"
Tav's brows furrowed. He propped himself up on one elbow and ungracefully turned to face her. "Are you serious?"
If this was a joke, she was gonna be the first person he killed, whether he had his scimitar or not. Surprisingly, there was some nervousness mixed in with her genuine smile.
"Yeah," she nodded. "I'll be honest, Tav. I love hugs. And cuddling. You probably wouldn't guess it by looking at me, but you'd never find someone desperate for a cuddle more than me. Pathetic, I know. But the engine wants what it wants."
Tav stared at her without a word. He was still waiting for her to say that she was joking so that he could wrap his hands around her throat. The dark urge was yearning for that. Karlach continued, smiling a bit wider.
"We're already close together anyway," she gestured to the small, almost nonexistent sliver of space between them. "And if I make you uncomfortable at all, I'll roll onto the floor and sleep there instead. So…can I?"
The tips of Karlach's flames turning blue told him that no, she wasn't joking. Far from it actually.
Now it was his turn to falter.
Sharing a bed was already something that typically wasn't in the cards for him. This wasn't from a lack of candidates; similar to Astarion, Tav had a high opinion of himself and could bed just about anyone. Karlach wasn't asking to get into his pants though. What she was asking for was innocent and sweet. And that is was gave him pause.
He felt the unfamiliar sensation of his pulse quickening. A butterfly in his stomach. He continued to stare, to remain silent, still looking for any indication that maybe she was in fact joking.
Nothing. Nothing but that same eager, almost puppy-like expression and hopeful smile.
Finally, Tav gave a slow nod. He was still feeling a bit cold anyways. Why not take advantage of the additional warmth?
"Alright," he agreed in a low whisper. He turned his back to her again and laid his head back down on the pillow. "Though try not to get too excited."
Karlach laughed at that. "Ooo, listen to you. 'I'm a dark and scary ranger who thinks a woman's brain will turn to mush the moment he gets a little close'." She even dropped her voice so that it was a lower baritone like Tav's. Then, she wrapped her big arms around him, holding onto him like a teddy bear. "Well too bad. I may enjoy a cuddle, but I am not—"
"Brain?"
Tav interrupted and peeked back at Karlach with a questioning expression. The tiefling mirrored that look. Tav smirked, "Ah, I forgot you had one of those."
Karlach laughed again, this time louder, while she absently prodded into Tav's side. "Fuck you."
Tav was already chuckling but the prodding had him flinching away, snickering louder. She paused, he paused, and the new discovery hung in the air. Then she grinned.
"Don't tell me you're ticklish, soldier."
She was still holding onto him, still facing his back, and her claws experimentally walked along his torso. Tav squirmed and grabbed at her large hands. All of a sudden, he wasn't feeling so tired. Before his companions, he wouldn't have had a clue what tickling was. It wasn't a violent act and didn't enter the equation when he took people's lives. As for who tickled who first, he couldn't remember. All he remembered was that he viewed it as an accessible weakness. Tav didn't have any of those. Or so he thought.
What a difference a tenday made.
"I'm noh-hot—," he lied. As much as he wrestled with her hands, her gentle scritching ended up on his lowermost ribs, where he jolted and chuckled louder. He tried to stifle his chuckling through sheer willpower, pursed lips, and gritted teeth. None of those helped him."Cut that ohout, Karlach!"
"But you said we could cuddle," she argued. He was strong, Karlach had to admit it, but him being tired was currently working in her favor. His movements were unpolished and sloppy and were much easier to counter. As carefully as she could, she pulled him flush against her body and draped one of her legs over his, pinning him. "Don't go, Tav. I just wanna cuddle!"
"Thihis isn't cuddling—" The butterflies in his stomach hit him like a carriage as he covered his mouth with one of his hands. His other hand fruitlessly tugged at her wrist. The realization of oh shit, this tickles fell on top of him and he didn't really know how to handle it. The chuckles were coming faster than he could stop them, so he settled for stifling them. He growled in between chuckles, "I-I'm gonna k-kihihill youhu—"
Karlach giggled. "Promises, promises . How do you expect me to be afraid when our grumpy leader's got these ticklish ribs?" She accentuated her teasing by giving a good squeeze to the side of his rib cage. Tav spluttered and writhed against her. "Makes me wonder if you've got any other tickle spots.."
Instead of answering her, Tav focused what little energy he still had into battling with her hands. He was gaining some ground and Karlach was quick to scribble her claws across his stomach. Tav bucked in her hold and bit his lip to trap the incoming laugh. Karlach brightened and gently drilled her thumbs into the sides of his stomach. This spot was much easier to get to with his thin camp shirt.
"Oh?" Karlach hummed, grinning. "Looks like I've got something…~"
Tav curled in on himself, as much as he could while pinned against her, and shook with the effort of keeping his laughter from breaking free. Half of his smile was buried in his pillow. Any threats he planned on making were also trapped. Karlach's tail thumped behind her as she worked through his defenses with every ticklish prod.
"Taaav," she crooned. "Are you sure that this doesn't tickle?"
Tav shook his head like the stubborn ranger he was. He turned his head so it was completely hidden in the pillow. He was still shaking with restrained laughter, and she was still tickling, poking at especially sensitive spots near his navel. She snickered.
"You're a tough one to crack, huh?" Karlach made him jump by squeezing his sides only to return to his stomach. "That's our Tav. The strong and silent type. Our very own lone wolf. If you weren't so grouchy, I may have had the hots for you. There's definitely something about you."
The dam was about to break. Tav's legs drummed against the bed. He seized her hands yet again, having an arguably good grip on them, but she wasn't letting go. A wobbly grin etched its way across his face. The quiet, but steadier laughter was easier to come by, though muffled by the pillow. Karlach teased him by swiping from his stomach, sides, and lower ribs like an enthusiastic kitten.
"Heh, you're definitely got some muscle to you, that's for sure," She continued yapping, her tickles finding their way to skin thanks to all of his squirming. "That's hot—"
Tav couldn't take it anymore. His head snapped up from the pillow, and what was supposed to be a growl was a series of choked laughter.
"Would youhuhu shuhut up!"
There was no reeling the laughter back in now. It wasn't a loud and chaotic sound. Instead, it was quieter and deeper, but still just as frantic. It fit him, Karlach noted, and there was something adorable in that.
"Nope, not a chance," she returned. She tickled him in earnest now, poking into those spots around the navel again that got him writhing. "You think you're so tough, huh? What's so funny? I thought you weren't ticklish."
"Sh-Shuht—" He tried to repeat himself but couldn't, bucking as one claw circled and scritched around his navel. He curled in on himself even more, but that somehow made it worse. 'OAhahaaha! Youhuhu're dehehead!"
"Nuh-uh! I've got a new lease on life," she teased. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck from behind, switching from quick scratching to kneading and pinching into random spots along his tummy. "Plenty of time to tickle my friends."
"Grrr-gohohonna cut that shohohohrt!" Tav's laughter picked up as he gripped her hands tighter. The ticklish sensations were settling into him and as much as he bucked in her hold, she wasn't letting go. There was another unfamiliar sensation of his cheeks flushing.
"Ooo I'm sooo scared," Karlach pretended to be terrified as she wrestled him onto his back with a decent amount of effort. Now he was pinned between her and the mattress. Her frame alone was enough to keep his arms and legs down. Tav grunted, and the playful grin still donning her face made the metaphorical butterflies in his stomach go wild. "Gonna get you now, soldier."
Tav took the opportunity to catch his breath during the lull, chest rising and falling with each breathe he took. "Karlach," he began, still trying to reign his chuckles in. "Let me up, and I promise not to—"
"Say you're ticklish then," she grinned. She held her hands just above his torso and wiggled her fingers. "Say it and I'll let you up."
Tav's cheeks flushed some more. "Why would I admit to something that you can clearly seeeehehehehe!" He jolted when she suddenly reached underneath his arms and buried wiggling fingers into his armpits. He brought his arms down over her hands and drowned in giggles that he'd surely deny later. Karlach cooed above him.
"Wrong answer, soldier," she snickered. "Say ittt~."
She pulled her hands free and kneaded her knuckles down his rib cage. She lingered in between the bones as his giggling deepened.
"Kahahaharlach!" Tav twisted his torso from one side to the other, belting out a louder laugh whenever she pinched a rib or dug in just a little more. He heard her giggle right before she honed back in on his stomach. She didn't tickle right away, just poking at the now exposed skin and marveling in the fact that she wasn't burning him. Tav spluttered again, his giggling jumping to short bursts of frantic laughter. "D-Dohohohn't you dahahahare!"
"I dare," she smiled. "But I'll give you five seconds to change your mind. Five,"
She pinched one side of his tummy, snorting when he squirmed in the opposite direction. The smile on his face was wide enough to metaphorically split his face in half.
"Leheheht mehehe uhuhp!"
"Four," She brought both of her thumbs down and kneaded both sides of his stomach. The bed creaked as he began bucking, laughing harder.
"KAhahhahaha!"
"Three. Better hurry Tav," She was smiling almost as much as he was while she kept up the ticklish onslaught. "You're running out of time."
In truth, Karlach wasn't really good at waiting. Or count downs. So she definitely got ahead of herself when she started raking her claws up and down his stomach in a steady rhythm, only letting up when she blew raspberries just above his navel. Tav's deep cackling threatened to wake up any of their sleeping neighbors.
……
By the time Karlach stopped tickling him, he was exhausted. He was tangled back up in her arms while coming down from his laughter. Karlach nestled her head back onto his shoulder, and the ranger mumbled sleepily.
"Prick," he again said without any true venom. Karlach snickered.
"Takes one to know one, soldier," she returned, finally yawning. She paused for a moment before adding, "You don't hate me though, right?"
Tav shook his head. He chalked it up to his sleepiness but, for the moment, his urge was quiet. He guessed he could tolerate her cuddles and let her live to see another day.
Spring was just coming to an end when the tree whispered to Nemo: Valencia. The little tree spirit squealed with delight before drifting towards her next destination.
A new season of stories await…
The tree spirit found that the land of Valencia was rich with story. Elves, faeries, dragons… were only a sampling of the kinds of mythical folk that resided here. Amidst it all, were kingdoms in turmoil, friendships strained, and countless lives lost to that age old enemy of mortals: greed.
The tree first led Nemo to a dragon lord, a magnificent being who could take many forms at will, both of a mortal and draconian nature. As usual, the spirit found that the dragon lord was not as he seemed. So she waited in the safety of her otherworldly glamor for the lord to reveal the piece of himself that drew the Laughing Tree to this land.
Lord Dimitri was a powerful and steadfast leader of his land who beneath his tough exterior, cared deeply for his subjects… enough that, at times, he could be playful with them.
Nemo giggled the first time she witnessed a scene where the lord had caught one servant in particular, Crow, trying to prank him with magic. The servant cackled uncontrollably as her liege tickled under her arms and again her sides with his claws using the very gentlest touch. Eventually he let her go, holding her carefully as to ensure she didn’t fall and scolding her with a gruff chuckle. The tree spirit sighed contentedly, knowing both found the experience equally mirthful.
Once Dimitri left Crow to her duties, Nemo noticed pixies following after him, but he didn’t seem to mind. They seemed to be jovial in their movement, giving off a bright green glow, similar to some of the lord’s own scales. Feeling mischievous, Nemo glided towards each pixie, touching them with her inspiration.
The pixies then descended upon the dragon lord, buzzing around him in a frenzy. At first he seemed angry as he tried to shoo them away without hurting them. But then Nemo heard him chuckle again and again until he was overcome with full belly laughter. The pixies tickled at his ears, neck, sides and under his arms. They danced around his shoulder blades as well close to his wings. And when one went under his chin, he howled with even more laughter.
Nemo found the scene to be incredibly endearing and a perfect story to bring home to the Laughing Tree. Furthermore, she learned that in the realm of Valencia, even dragons could be ticklish.
A/N: Stepping away from my hiatus briefly to share @atnightiscream's OC with you all: Dimitri. Exo was one of the first to interact with my blog since I’ve created it and has since then become one of my good friends. We share a mutual love for fantasy and have a similar brand of humor. I can always count on her to make me laugh!
Thank you for your friendship and support Exo, it means a lot. 🫂
Forgive the long wait, travelers. Let me introduce you to two of my OCs, who for now I will address as the Keeper and the Grey One. Their story is based on Irish folklore, specifically around selkies, which is one of my favorites to interpret as playful tickle monsters.
The Keeper is an Irishman that has recently inherited his late grandfather's cabin on a secluded lake front. While renovating the property, he befriends a selkie, the Grey One.
The two eventually discover they share a playful interest as well as feelings for one another.
Allow me to share with you a snippet from their interactions. Please let me know if you'd like to hear more about them!
I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💚.
Summary: The keeper meets the grey one for a picnic, but not before a playful greeting.
Word Count: 661
The keeper approached the dock as dusk settled over the lake with a dull orange hue lingering on the horizon.
Ever since inheriting his grandfather’s property on this particular part of the Irish coast, the keeper visits the dock with picnic basket at the end of his work day.
One late summer evening, the keeper stood waiting on the edge of the dock. After a while, he slipped off his sandals, sat down and dipped his feet into the water. He shuddered at the cool temperature but enjoyed the water’s comfort and the slight warm breeze.
It wasn’t long before the keeper felt something brush against the bottoms of his feet. He gasped and lifted them immediately out of the water with a splash, only to see a familiar shape beneath the surface once it settled. He chuckled with relief.
A grey human-like face with round-marble eyes and whiskers looked up at him. It appeared to smile, wrapped in a cloud of silver hair as it floated beneath the water’s surface. A grey hand with long fingers and claws beckoned the keeper to return his feet to the water.
The keeper smiled warily but slowly lowered his legs back into the lake, ready to begin the playful ritual his friend liked to perform before joining him on the dock.
The grey one’s face faded deeper into the murky depths, while its clawed hands remained visible as they reached up to trace and poke the entirety of the keeper’s feet with practiced gentleness.
The keeper quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, whimpering, as he shuddered from the grey one’s ticklish touch. He immediately curled his toes when he felt claws trace from his heels to his arches, where they lingered. He trembled with suppressed laughter, struggling to keep his feet in the water. He always saw it as a personal challenge to try and endure the grey one’s exploration, despite always knowing how it would end.
Eventually the keeper’s efforts shattered when the claws began to scratch lightly under his toes. Following a loud cackle, he pulled his legs out of the water.
When the keeper looked over the dock again, the grey one’s face was visible under water’s surface, scrunched in an obvious pout.
The keeper offered a sheepish smile and an apology, before he lowered his feet back in the water. He knew he was in for it now.
The claws returned in earnest, skittering up and down both of his feet. Unable to help himself, the keeper fell back onto the dock, hugging himself and laughing hysterically.
It was just like the first time he met the grey one, at the beginning of the summer when he chose to rest at the dock, only to be greeted by a curious “tickle monster”. Ever since then, the keeper would return to the dock and dip his feet in the water as a signal that he was ready for a visit.
The tickling claws gradually came to a stop and left his feet, leaving the keeper to giggle and catch his breath on the dock. As always, he felt slightly disappointed that it was already over.
When the keeper finally opened his eyes, a pale man with silver hair was hovering over him with a concerned look. The keeper yelped when cold water dripped from the man’s hair onto his cheek. He sat up and rubbed it away before turning back to greet the grey one, now a man, with a spotted grey tunic around his waist.
The keeper dipped his head apologetically and the pale man sighed. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against the keeper’s and both men closed their eyes.
Once their picnic finished, the keeper took the grey one’s hand, guiding him up the dock towards the cottage. As the sun set finally set on the lake, both individuals whispered a silent prayer to their gods, wishing that they could continue meeting like this forever.
Oh a little mini fic from me!! Teehee I just had the writing bug and specifically my friends wanted to see Mortem getting got and I could NOT say no to sad dad tickles. His QPP Alacritas is the ler in this one, those two have been around together a very long time, and no one knows when Mortem needs cheering up more than Al lol.
Summary: Mortem is brooding again in his pocket dimension and Alacritas pays him a visit. Cuteness ensues.
This is a ticklefic! :3c
The sun rose high over the farm as a man stood in his field, pushing his plow through the soil, his only companion a lone, but excitable yellow lab. The heat was a little subdued for the morning, but still bore down on the man as he worked. He was none the wiser to the very dark crow that watched him from his own fence, its eyes a very odd shade of steely gray. In an instant, the bird was off, flying off into the distance and disappearing, but to the trained eye one would see it had flown through what appeared to be a portal.
Back between the realms the crow flew, avoiding pocket dimensions that belonged to other gods as it swiftly landed into a portal that was all its own. In a poof of black smoke, the crow dissipated and turned into a man, well, what would semi-qualify for a man at least. Antlers sprung out of his mop of black hair and a long cloak adorned his figure. His skin was gray as ash and a skull like pattern adorned his face as he sat down, letting out a sigh in his own room.
Mortem, the Grim Reaper sat in his own dimension, away from the hustle and bustle of Purgatory and the living realm, away form his reapers and even his family as the room came into being. It was a beautiful but cozy little room, tucked away from other beings where the Death God could relax and take his time feeling like a person and not like he ruled the dead. A giant oak desk sat in the corner of the room as did an old leather couch and a leather recliner that he was currently sitting on. Many a books lined the walls and it was clear he studied alchemy by the tools and writings left on the desk.
He let out a small huff as he thumbed through a book, his leg crossed over the other as he sat in silence, loving his very little alone time. The book would have been quite enjoyed in that moment had a voice not cut through the silence.
"Someone's brooding again," a voice from the corner of the room said. Instead of jumping in surprise, Mortem simply closed the book and sighed, putting it down and swiveling the chair to look behind him at his 'guest.'
"I have to give you credit, Alacritas," he said, a small smirk playing on his lips despite his annoyance. "You seem to always know when I'm here and how ot find this place."
"I have this dimension memorized," the God of Life said, appearing in a white puff of smoke on the couch, legs also crossed as his arms hung over the back of the couch. "But it's also not like you made it hard to find."
"I didn't," Mortem said, tapping the sides of his chair impatiently. "I just made it to hide away when I need alone time. Like now."
The Green Sower did not take the hint, or if he did he didn't bite, for his smirk only grew and he moved to lean his chin in his hand as he looked him over.
"Or you go here when you need to brood, I've seen it many a times," he chuckled, running a hand though his long hair. "I just figured you could use some cheering up, and as my oh-so charitable self I decided to lend my oldest friend a hand!"
"I'm not brooding," Mortem huffed out his own laugh, a low sound that almost didn't register as a laugh. "I'm thinking. I'm lost in thought. I do this, you've seen me do this."
"Yes, and I also see you when you're sad and broody," the Life God told him. "And this is definitely one of those times. Your kids even see it too, but they usually avoid you in this time, don't they?"
He didn't know how to answer that one, even though he knew it to be true. Instead he turned back to his desk, fumbling around with some papers.
"Mort," Alacritas started, leaning back on the couch. "When was the last time you smiled? Laughed even?"
"Just now, you just heard it," Mortem replied, not even bothering to turn around. He was growing wary of these games Alacritas liked to play with him, although sometimes he was happy for the company. Thousands upon thousands of years of being alive, if one could even call what the creation gods had as being 'alive', and it was bound to get lonely at times. Alacritas, being the oldest, knew this better than anyone. They only really had each other in all the realms, and it was something only gods even older than them could understand.
"No I mean like really smile," the other god sat up straight, pouting cutely. "I haven't seen it in so long."
"Nothing to smile about in my life currently," Mortem sighed, rolling his eyes at his own 'joke'.
"Oh he's a funny man!" Alacritas barked out a laugh, finding an idea. "OK, jokes it is. Why did the crow cross the road?"
"Al, please," Mortem let out a groan, once again opening a book to hopefully drown his friend out with.
"Say it, Mort, you know you want to." He could hear the grin in the other man's voice as he tried to force him to take the bait, and just to shut the Life God up he sighed and did just that.
"To get to the other side. So funny I forgot to laugh." He huffed, running a hand down his face. "Al I adore you, but your jokes need so much work."
"Alright tough guy, plan B then."
"What's plan B- Ah!" He was not prepared to Plan B, for what it seemed to entail was a small portal that Alacritas had opened on his side of the room, stuck his hand through, and had opened another small portal right next to Mortem's side with his own hand reaching through to pinch at said body part. The Death God didn't even see it coming, and a wobbly grin already made its way onto his face as he tried to push the offending hand away. "Al, please! Don't, don't no please you know I'm deathly ticklish!"
"Of course I know," Alacritas smirked, and Mortem was sure if he could turn around and see his face it would be an absolutely devious look. "That's why I'm resorting to tickling you to get you to smile."
"I'm fihihihine!" He gasped, feeling another hand reach for his arm, a portal right above his head. "You little-You've mastered portals I seehehee!"
"Thank you for noticing!" The other god retorted, two portals opened in front of him with his arms through them. Like an maestro orchestrating Mortem's own demise, one hand held his arm above his head as the other free one attacked under his arm, finally fully breaking him and making him collapse in his chair in mirth.
"This isn't fair!" he choked out, giggling madly as he tried to weakly bat at the other's hands. "Al, no please!"
"Oh come on now, it's a good look on you ya know," he laughed. "Laughing de-ages you. You're always so sad looking all the time, like a lost puppy. I'm tired of it, and if I have to sneak in here to tickle you to tears to fix it from time to time I'm going to do it!"
Mortem couldn't even find words to answer that as he tried too curl away, the offending hand finally stopping its attack on his underarm. Yet, it didn't seem over yet as both hands now went to attack his hips, making him nearly squeal with laughter and buck in his chair. Alacritas couldn't help but find the display endearing.
"Who knew Death Gods were so ticklish, hm?"
From off the desk, a suspiciously black quill feather started floating, flittering right over to the side of his head and flicking along his jawline and stopping at his ears.
"Aahahehehehe! Oh, oh, Al, please not the ears you knohohohow better!" his laugh felt raspy and breathless as he cackled, almost like it hadn't been used in so long. Alacritas wanted to hear nothing but the sound. He tried in vain to get away, and yet part of him didn't ever want this to stop. He was right, it had been much too long since he had laughed and smiled.
'My smile died the day with Unus…'
"Oops I guess forgot, silly me!" He giggled, skittering his hands up his sides and into his ribs. Mortem's laugh went silent at a few points, and the Life God knew when a good thing was probably too much. He eventually pulled his hands away from the portals, and they disappeared with his removal. However the feather kept at his ears, switching sides for a few more moments while Mortem scrunched up his neck and tried and very much failed to capture the sneaky thing. When the attack was finally finished, he leaned back in his chair with a loud huff and panted, trying to catch his breath. He finally rolled it around to face a very smug Alacritas on his couch.
"Was that…really necessary…" he breathed out.
"Judging by the actual color in your face, I say yes!" That only added more of a blue blush to all the way to his ears, and he coughed sheepishly into his hand as he looked away, but he couldn't keep the small smile off his face.
After a moment Alacritas was about to say something, but a vacant look on Mortem's face gave him pause as his eyes turned black. It was done in a flash, and his eyes returned to their normal state as he looked up, a small, thoughtful look on his face.
"See something?" The Green Sower said, tilting his head to the side.
"My farmer was supposed to kill himself today," he said, tapping his fingers to his lips. "But something stopped him. I think it was his dog. I was going to make him a reaper. Oh well, I guess fate has other plans. Maybe he'll live to old age now."
"How wonderful," Alacritas beamed, his hands twisting in a hugging motion. "See, good things can happen! There's plenty to smile about in these realms. We should celebrate the life of the farmer."
"One life?" Mortem actually laughed, hiding his mouth behind a hand. "I guess…you're right. To the farmer that lived."
"That's better," Alacritas smiled genuinely, his expression softening as he saw the smile on Mortem's face. "That's the Mortem I love and miss."
The words hit like a freight train, making the Death God turn to the other, a deep blush on his face as a sheepish look overtook him, but the quiet adoration radiating off him was palpable. Finally getting up from his seat, Mortem got up and sat next to Alacritas on the couch, taking one his hands in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Thank you," he said quietly. The other nodded, a big grin on his face. Mortem was about to say more when he felt a squeeze at his side, making him yelp again in laughter. "Al!"
"I think that's enough of a break, right?" A resounding round of laughter began between the two of them as it seemed a 'round two' had started, and Mortem couldn't have been happier in that moment.
I love the prose in this one! We get a glimpse of an original world with original, complex characters. I can read their personalities in their dialogue and interaction. It makes the tickles so wholesome and sweet.
All that together makes this work so well for a standalone fic!
Good job, traveler! Thank you for the enjoyable read~ 💚
Nemo went about her merry business, humming and tidying around the base of the Laughing Tree when it whispered: New York. The tree spirit gasped with delight, dropping a pile of sticks and zooming away towards another story.
But when Nemo arrived, she found an ominous building under the guise of a hospital. The spirit hesitated, feeling something vile seep from the building, something malicious. But she gathered her courage and floated inside. She'd found stories for the Laughing Tree in darker places, she could handle it...
But this time, Nemo almost couldn't.
There was suffering in this place, a great deal of it. It was overseen by a vicious being, one that was sentient and clever. In its presence, she feared it would see her, but to her relief, it couldn't perceive her.
The being was focused on an angry man–it's... son?–that emanated the same malicious aura. In a disappointed huff, the being dismissed the man's presence. Curious, Nemo followed him... until he approached another just like him, his twin. At that moment, the man's face softened as the woman excitedly spoke to him and he laughed, joining her as they lead Nemo to a place where others awaited their company.
Nemo observed the group, chatting, playing games and to her delight–tickling. Though the tickling was focused mostly on the twins, who enjoyed the attention. For the first time since Nemo arrived, she relaxed.
A man who appeared to be the one twin's partner was embracing him during a moment of respite. Feeling mischievous, Nemo floated over to inspire the twin to tickle his partner back. The two tumbled to the floor as the rest of the room observed in amusement.
Nemo giggled. For all the pain here, there was something stronger present–something healing. A kind of joy that drew the tree spirit back to the hospital again and again...
A/N: A gift from the Laughing Tree for @shubbiewubbie, starring her OCs: Dalton and Remy, who I adore so much! They are so sweet and deserve so, so many tickles! Thank you so much for sharing your characters, stories, and worlds with us, Shun! You're an amazing creator and a good person 🫂.
The Tree called Nemo to a new realm of stories: Creohaven, it whispered. And the little tree spirit went with haste in search of new tales that inspired mirth and warmed the soul.
But there were many stories here. Stories of heroes and villains, adventure and mystery, humor and a bit of romance, if one knew where to look. Yet in this sea of tales, what puzzled Nemo was why the Tree sent her here in the first place. Until she found it… well, him.
The Magician of Merriment–or the Tickler, as most called him– seemed to be exactly as proclaimed. Nemo followed him curiously, perplexed by his actions as they were often malicious. Where was the mutual joy? The giddiness? Didn't he know that tickling didn't have to be so mean all the time?
The tree spirit had almost given up hope, until she followed the Tickler to a peculiar building one night called "Giggle Water". Inside was a safe haven of sorts, a place the Tickler had made for all kinds of people to be their true selves and perform!
Delighted, Nemo joined in the festivities, though no one could see her cheering them on as she is not of this realm. Eventually she noticed the Tickler watching the stage from afar. He smiled, but not it wasn't the devious kind she'd seen all day, it was... soft and genuine. Nemo smiled too, realizing then that the magician wasn't completely as he seemed.
The tree spirit continued to follow the Tickler and eventually found the kind of mirth she'd be sent to find. Laughter in love, friendship and in random acts of kindness (or silliness).
If the magician noticed her, he would only catch a glimpse of a wisp from the corner of his eye, followed by soft feathers and fallen tree leaves disappearing in an instant.
Nemo isn't always in Creohaven, but she often returns in hopes to inspire her new favorite magician in his tickly endeavors and collect more mirthful tales...
A/N: This is a gift I've made as a thank you to @merrymaking-magician and their friends for sharing all their wonderful characters and stories with the community. I hope you enjoy this little doodle and snippet. It's always a delight to see you post, traveler~
Also! I'm hoping to make this a regular thing where I share art of my mutuals' characters. Everyone has such amazing work that I want to share it and support them! You're all doing so great!!!
Stay tuned for more exciting things from the Laughing Tree~
can we pls pls pls hear more about the keeper and the selkie??
Ahhhhh traveler, thank you for summoning me from the slump I've been in!
While I have little to offer for an update, I can share a few more details about the lake house keeper and his mythical sweetheart.
Details under the cut.
The Story
Takes place in Ireland in the early 90s.
An episodic tale (or tickle literature) with a mix of fluffy tickle scenes, romance and an overarching plot.
Themes include romance, humor, mental illness, hurt/comfort and coming-of-age.
The Keeper
Colin is the name I've given to the Keeper, he's an Irish American in his late 20s.
Before moving to Ireland to take over his late grandfather's lakeside homestead, he was a photographer in San Francisco.
He has strawberry blonde hair.
He is soft-spoken and an ambivert. His studio back home was his sacred space.
His father was a handyman, so he is good with carpentry, house maintenance and the like. His grandfather's cabin is the perfect place for him to be.
And as mentioned in the introduction, he is definitely ticklish. Which is a point of fascination for the Grey One.
The Grey One
Ash is the name Colin has given the Grey One, since the selkie withheld his name but offered to be called whatever his new companion wished.
In this world, selkies have about the same lifespan as humans so he's in his late 20s/early 30s.
He is the last of his herd on the lake and was familiar with Colin's grandfather to some extent (haven't decided how much yet).
He can speak the language of the fey as well as traditional Irish and English.
He is a grey seal.
He prefers to wear his skin around his shoulders but is mindful of human culture and will wear it around his waist if he isn't clothed most of the time around Colin.
Ash is also ticklish, but prefers to be the ler and not the lee.
Thank you for your curiosity, traveler. I hope this satisfies for now~
I’ve been so focused on work the past few weeks that my body decided today that enough was enough, so… I had to tap out early and ended up “napping” for 6 hours…
