oliviaischillin1204

[oliviaischillin1204]

Lee!Patton and Ler!Logan (or whoever you wish!) Patton has always been the mind palace tickle monster and after a week of his evil ler moods and tickle attacks Logan turns the tables and gets revenge tickles?

With Ideas from @fluffymary and @ticklishlyflustered

Patton had been in a Ler mood. That was a vast understatement. There were three of them to tickle, and yet Logan hadn’t gone a day in the last week without being tickled to pieces at least twice. 

Something had to be done. 

And that was why Logan was setting up this game. This extremely dangerous game. Roman, helping him set up, had shaken his head in pity, clapping him on the back and half-jokingly saying that he hoped Logan was still alive the next day. 

“Patton?”

“Yes?” Patton said, turning around with a twinkle in his eyes and sidling up to Logan, his hands already reaching towards sensitive sides. 

“Wait! Not yet. Just come with me please.”

Patton looked curious enough to agree, and his hands backed away. That was good. If Logan was tickled even a little before starting the game he was positive that he would lose. 

Logan led the way back to his room, which had been transformed into a ticklers paradise. The room was bright and airy, with feathers all over the walls. The feathers weren’t merely decoration, as each one could be removed and used. There were small dressers staring open, and showing their vast arrays of tickle tools. There was a chair with restraints, and one without, both set on wheels to be moved easily. The bed had stocks made into the footboard, strings already hanging over them for toe ties, and additional restraints ready as well. There was even soft, bouncy music playing, with a quick tempo that would be tortuous if tickles followed it. 

Next to the bed was a mini-fridge with snacks and water, and on top of it a small clock. 

Patton’s eyes were wide, and his grin was brighter and more evil than Logan had seen yet. 

“I have a game,” Logan said. “And if you win, you can have me in here for the rest of the day.”

Patton’s eyes got even wider somehow. 

“But if I win, I get to keep you in here as my Lee,” Logan said. He was struggling to keep his breathing and his voice even. 

“What kind of game?” Patton asked. 

“I’ll sit in that chair,” Logan said, gesturing to the plain one. “There will be a five minute time limit. You cannot touch me, or you will lose. And I cannot move. You will be free to move as you like, and to tease, and your goal will be to get me to react. If I move or laugh before the time runs out then you win.”

Patton bounced up and down, clapping his hands. “This is gonna be perfect! I’ll get to tease you to warm you up and then I’ll tickle you all day long!!!”

Logan’s face colored. He sat down in the chair, careful to keep his expression impassive. “The time starts now.”

A timer appeared on the wall, counting down from five minutes. 

Logan breathed slowly. In and out. Measured. He had a small flame of Ler burning in his chest, and to win this game he would have to be sure it did not get snuffed out. 

“Awww, is little Lee Lo trying so hard to win?” Patton cooed, his mouth so close to Logan’s ear that he could feel the warm breath tickling. 

Logan stared straight ahead, breathing in, and out. Slowly. Measured. 

Patton crossed over to the wall to pick up a feather and play with it, twirling it between his fingers. “This is so wonderful, Lo, for you to set all this up for me! I’m gonna put your feet in these stocks, and tie back those little toesies so they can’t squirm away, and then just think of all the things I could do! I could flutter this feather just beneath your toes, or saw it back and forth between them, or I could poke with the pokey end and scribble little lines with it!”

Logan’s face grew steadily warmer, and he fought not to look at Patton, who was happily demonstrating with his hands. The only way he managed to stay still was imagining that he, if he won, would be doing the exact same things to Patton. It would be Patton’s feet trapped in stocks, his toes mercilessly pulled back where they couldn’t protect themselves, and Logan would be the one controlling the feather. 

Even so, his breathing broke it’s methodical pattern, especially as Patton kept going to different tools in the room, explaining in excruciating detail how he was going to use each one of them. His eyes followed Patton’s movements, and his face grew redder with every smirk. 

His lip trembled slightly, and he clenched his jaw. Breathe. Just slow down. Ignore Patton entirely. Breathe. Focus of the rush of air in and out. 

Suddenly a feather was directly in front of his face, millimeters away from his nose, and capturing all his attention. The feather slowly moved sideways, before darting towards his ear. Logan barely suppressed the flinch, but the feather didn’t touch him. It was a ploy. 

He pointedly looked away from it, and from all other cruel teases Patton kept trying, wiggling fingers darting in so close, but not quite touching. 

“Awww, does little Lo want so badly to not get tickled?” Patton asked in a babying voice. “The tickles are just too much for his ticklish skin?”

The word alone was hard to resist, but the tone and the smile made it much worse. Logan was breaking, his tiny flame of Ler sputtering out. He was going to move, going to laugh, going to be tickled to pieces and then tickled more and there would be nothing he could do about it and—

A loud beep startled him, and he jumped, but it was the timer going off. He’d won. He’d won!! 

Logan slumped over in the chair, a few giggles spilling out as he dropped his rigid guard. 

Patton was oddly silent, and Logan was more than surprised when he finally sat back up to see a soft blush and some embarrassed shifting and shirt twisting. 

“Are you… in a lee mood… already?”

Patton’s blush deepened as he looked at the floor. “I had kinda been hoping you guys would fight back harder…” he mumbled. 

Logan gaped. “You’ve been in a Lee mood this whole time?!”

“Not the whole time!” Patton protested. “Just, maybe, a lot of it.”

Logan had to take a moment to absorb that. That Patton could be so evil while in a lee mood. How??

Meanwhile, Patton was shyly sitting on the edge of the bed and still fiddling with his shirt. 

Logan snapped out of his shock, trying to build up his little flame of Ler. If Patton was in a truly strong Lee mood, then he’d need it. 

Logan snapped, and Patton had changed into comfy pajamas, shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. Patton immediately covered his mouth, small giggles slipping out through his fingers. 

“Oh, you’re giggling already?” Logan said, starting to maneuver Patton into the middle of the bed. “What’s going to happen once I really start?”

“Ihi don’t know,” Patton said gleefully, giggles slipping out even faster now. 

Logan locked Patton’s feet into the stocks, but left his socks on. There’d be plenty of time for that later. 

Patton was already rolling back and forth and giggling hard into his hands, but his giggling just got louder as Logan pulled his arms up above his head. 

“You realize,” Logan said, lowering his voice. “That I have a whole week of tickles to get revenge for.”

Patton giggled even harder, and Logan still hadn’t tickled him even one time, but he was going to lose his breath at this rate. 

Logan sat on his thighs and set his hands on his belly. “You’ll have to calm down, dear.”

“Ihihi cahan’t!” Patton said, snorting with how fast the giggles were coming. 

Logan moved his hands in slow, heavy circles, almost certain not to tickle. “Then no tickles for you.”

“Whyhyhy?” Patton giggled, his voice heavily tinged with whine. 

“Because you will pass out, and that will be fun for neither of us.”

Patton tried to pout, but it really didn’t work when he was still giggling. He tried to stop himself, taking in deeper breaths. 

“I would not want you to laugh yourself to unconsciousness,” Logan said. “Certainly later I will enjoy bringing you close, but to do that you must begin in a calmer frame of mind.”

Patton threw his head back and forth. “Thehen dohohon’t tease!”

Logan smiled. Ok, maybe this was feeding his Ler fire. But clearly instructing Patton to calm himself wasn’t working. Perhaps after the first big tickle and laugh he would be able to calm down slightly. 

So Logan went from rubbing with his palms to rubbing with his fingertips, and Patton burst into crazed laughter. He thrashed back and forth, as if the light tickles were torture. Logan smirked and kept it up until he was certain that he’d driven every other thought out of Patton’s mind. He slowed down, and pulled his hands away. 

“There you are, my sweet Lee. How was that for a start?”

As he had hoped, the laughter faded as it normally did, into softer giggles and panting. “Goohood.”

He leaned up to stroke the hair out of Patton’s face. “You also did very well. Would you like some water before we continue?”

Patton nodded. 

Logan helped him get a drink, and then settle back in. “Now you get a bit more break until I find the perfect feather.”

Patton giggled a little, but not the uncontrollable giggles from earlier. But now Logan wanted those giggles, but he wanted them at his control. So he picked a large feather, quite soft, and with a fringe that dangled along the entire thing. And he also picked a very small, very, very soft feather, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. 

He held the large feather up so Patton could see, before feeding it underneath his shirt, so the stiff end poked out of the collar. The entire process, of course, he made as tickly as possible, and Patton was kept giggling, happy squirming, and brightly smiling. 

But from there, the slightest wiggle of the end and the large feather tickled nearly Patton’s entire torso, especially his belly. 

“Lohoho! It tihihickles!” Patton said, his eyes squinted nearly shut from his smile. 

“Does it?” Logan said, and he couldn’t resist wiggling the feather to make Patton burst into giggles again. 

“It does!” Patton squealed, his words coming out in a rush to try and squeeze them between the many giggles. 

“Well then, let’s try a very easy game,” Logan said, settling into position and pulling out the smaller feather. 

He started dragging it slowly along Patton’s jawline. “All~ you have to do is stay still. And you’re already all tied up here, so it’s so easy!”

Patton’s giggles grew again as the feather neared his ear. “Lohoho, wahait!”

But Logan knew exactly what he was doing, and spun the feather between his fingers right at the sweet spot. Patton let out a sharp shriek, jerking his head away and rubbing it against his shoulder before a sudden burst of giggles flowed out. 

“Oh dear,” Logan said, without a hint of pity to his tone. “Looks like you’ve lost.”

He wiggled the larger feather and Patton squirmed all over, giggles having graduated to laughter. 

“Lo, please!” Patton tried to beg, his words all broken up by laughter. 

And finally Logan did have mercy, letting go of the feather. But not too much mercy, as he already knew that until Patton could stop giggling the feather would still be tickling, and at his current hypersensitive state, it would tickle almost as much as if Logan was still actively wiggling it. 

Logan had intended to leave Patton to giggle himself out, but he very quickly found that he was most definitely in a Ler mood now, and wiggling his fingers gently in Patton’s hollows to get even more laughter was just too good an opportunity to pass up. 

And then Logan heard the shift in Patton’s tone that indicated that it was getting to be too much. Patton was such a happy Lee, but he couldn’t be tickled to silence like Virgil could, at least not in the same ways. A quick silent laugh was fun for him, but too long and he got tired. So Logan removed the feather, and even did so without any extra fanfare. 

Patton needed a long break after that, and demanded cuddles, which Logan agreed to as long as Patton didn’t fall asleep just yet. Because he was nowhere near done. 

Finally, though Patton was trying to act more sleepy than he was, the break was over. 

Logan got set back up, warming up with a few gentle scribbles on Patton’s belly. The soft giggling and slight squirming alerted him to a problem in his plan, however, and he went to pull out the slack in the restraints, so Patton could move even less. 

“Whahat are you doing?” Patton asked nervously. 

“Well, dear, there’s a place I know that you’re extremely ticklish, and there will surely be a lot of thrashing, so I’m making sure that you’re still enough that you cannot stop me from very thoroughly enjoying myself.”

Patton’s face went red, and he tugged a bit at his legs, as if sensing Logan’s goal. Logan sat over his hips, trailing his fingers from Patton’s knees up. 

“Are you ready to scream, Patton?”

Patton squirmed hard, and then Logan squeezed the muscles in his thighs. Patton certainly did scream. It was one of his worst spots, made far worse by the fact that it wasn’t very often targeted, and now Logan just wouldn’t leave it alone. Up and down his thighs, almost anywhere got him a truly fantastic reaction. 

“Lohoho!” Patton laughed, and then was cut off by another scream. “Tihihickles so bahahad!!”

“That is the point, darling, I’m getting revenge for a whole week of tickle monster Patton.”

“Plehehease!” Patton shrieked, squealing as Logan’s fingers strayed down too far and wiggled beneath his kneecaps. 

“Please tickle you more? You don’t need to ask, Patton, that’s what I intend to do.”

It was only a few more seconds before Patton’s laughter went silent, and Logan knew he’d have to stop or there would be another long break. So he got up, and wheeled the chair around to the foot of the bed, slowly unlacing Patton’s shoes while he got his breath back. 

Patton’s giggles returned as his socks were pulled away, and he scrunched and wiggled his feet around. 

“We’ll play another game,” Logan said calmly, hiding a smirk. “If you can keep your feet still, I’ll tickle them. But if you can’t, I’ll come back for those thighs again.”

“No!!” Patton yelled immediately, his voice all whiny and giggly. 

“Well, then, you just have to keep your feet still. And if you’ll just spread your toes for me, that would be greatly appreciated.”

Patton let out a long whine, cut with little giggles as Logan immediately started fluttering a feather around his feet. 

“You’re wiggling too much, I’ll have to—“

“Noooo!”

“Alright~ hold a bit more still,” Logan teased, deliberately sawing the feather between his last two toes. 

Patton let out a teeny squeal, scrunching his feet up as tight as he could. 

“Ah, ah, ahh~ I’ll have to come after those thighs again, won’t I?”

“Lohogan I caaan’t!!” Patton whined. “I trihied!”

“I see…” Logan said, setting the feather aside. “Should I help you then, by tying up these toes that you can’t keep under control?”

There was another long whine from Patton.  

“Or I can have more fun with those thighs~”

“Ahhhhhhh… fiiiinnnneee.”

“Fine, what? I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re saying,” Logan teased, starting to poke at the little toes to watch them curl. 

“You can tie my toes…” Patton muttered. “Meanie.”

“Oh, I’m the meanie?” Logan said, tying the string to the stocks and starting to wind it around his big toe. “What about you, tickle monster?”

Patton just let out a whine, flopping his weight around on the bed. 

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll push that bad mood away with tickles in just a moment,” Logan said, enjoying very much the taking his time in capturing each little toe and prying it back. “There. Now what was it that you always enjoyed? Little piggy?”

Patton giggled at just the name. “Lohoho!”

“How does it go?” Logan said, scratching his finger underneath Patton’s big toe. “This little piggy…”

Patton was giggling hard, even his toes not enough to make him fully laugh, as his feet weren’t nearly as ticklish as the rest of him. “Maharket.”

“Ah, yes. This little piggy maharket.” Logan said drily, still scratching gently beneath the same toe, which Patton was trying and failing to wiggle away. 

“Noooo, Lohohoho!”

“That’s not right either?” Logan asked. 

Patton suddenly burst out with the full line, but so broken up with giggles as Logan scribbled over the ball of his other foot that it could barely be understood. 

“Loho, I want different tickles!” Patton said, the words clear despite coming out through whining giggles. 

“Different tickles?” Logan asked, coming back to sit on the bed. “You want me to give up my revenge for different tickles?”

Patton nodded, puppy eyes already at full power. “I want belly tickles. Please?”

Well, the please broke down any resistance Logan may have had. He brushed his hand gently over Patton’s flushed cheeks, and Patton leaned happily into the soft touch. 

“And would you like to get untied for the belly tickles?”

Patton nodded. “Just some.”

So Logan released Patton’s feet, and Patton scooted himself so his arms had some extra slack. Logan settled over his thighs to roll his shirt up. 

“Now where does this belly want to be tickled?”

Patton’s giggles were happier and lighter. “Ihin the middle.”

So Logan started in the middle, with light scribbles and trailing fingers pulling the lighter happy giggles out by the dozens. And if he maybe squeezed at Patton’s hips sometimes to get some louder laughter, well, neither of them minded that a bit. 

Logan made sure to keep Patton awake until it was a more reasonable bedtime, but the tickles grew lighter and lighter, and by the time he fell asleep Patton was blissed out with soft, gentle touches. 

[oliviaischillin1204]

op. i just don't have the fucking words. this is,,,, this is SO GOOD LIKE?????? SDFJGHFDJFHJDFJ????? holy shittola i have never read a fucking "interrogation" style fic as good as this, it's so fucking INTENSEEEE it's DIABOLICALLLL and FJORD IS THE MASTER FUCKING LER OF THE MIGHTY NEIN LIKE. COME ON!! THIS FUCKING RULES

Dirty, Rotten Tricks

👻 Another day of my #AugTickleTober 2024! 🎃

*Day 3: Prank*

Fandom: Critical Role (Campaign 2)

Summary: Molly only pulled an innocent little prank on his friend, he doesn’t deserve all of this, right? Right?! – So, Fjord finds his captain’s hat missing and goes to extract its location from his trouble-making little tiefling friend — but, the thing that Molly doesn’t know…is Fjord already knows exactly where it is (or.. where it was).

A/N: ft. lee!Mollymauk, ler!Fjord, prankster gets pranked, interrogation, fjord is pretty mean here folks.. this was SO much fun to write – takes place within my lil Jester owns stocks universe (and rightfully deserves to have them). also insp by this post. happy to announce that HEY FOLKS! THIS ONE'S THE LENGTHYBOY YOU HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! Yeah yeah I'm a lil behind on days but I'm working on it -- here is a little gifty for thine pleasure.

Words: 6.4K (woof!) ... [read on ao3]

...

“Fjord! How are you?” Molly greets him as the half-orc enters the room, then frowns in an overly exaggerated fashion. “What’s with that grumpy look on your face?”

Crossing into the room as he finally finds the tiefling that has been on his mind, Fjord mutters. “Last time… Little shit… Teach you to steal shit from me….” 

He walks right up to Mollymauk and grips him by the shoulder. 

“Hey!” Molly chuckles, “Not that I’m against the manhandling,” he questions the half-orc tugging him backwards out of the room, “but, what’s going on?”

“I told you to stop fucking with my shit.” Fjord says pointedly. 

“And what shit did I fuck with?” Molly quips back, trying to spin himself around as Fjord pulls the back collar of his coat. He dances backwards awkwardly, shuffled onward by his friend. “C-come on! What do you think I did?!”

Fjord stops for a moment, gives him an annoyed, knowing look. 

Molly argues. “How do you even know that whatever it is was me?” 

“Was with Jester all afternoon. Already asked Veth.” Fjord states, matter-of-factly. 

Molly grumbles about that doesn’t prove anything as they continue. Fjord drags them up through the ship, back to his room, and tosses Mollymauk in before him. 

“You’re a real pain in my ass sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s not my fault you have a terrible fashion sense.” 

Fjord raises an eyebrow at him. 

Mollymauk winks back.

“Where’s the hat, Molly?” He steps forward, backing the tiefling toward the bed. 

Molly glances behind him at the bed, looks up into Fjord’s predatory eyes. “What are you gonna do?” He smirks, asking with half-lidded eyes and a sultry tone. “Fuck me about it? Teach me a lesson? Spank me?” 

Fjord breaks his glare for a moment, laughing. “Ha- Yeah, you wish.” 

Then, he leaps forward.

Mollymauk squawks with alarm as he is thrown back onto the mattress, his sides immediately subject to squeezing, scribbling tickles up and down them. 

He shrieks and breaks down into laughter within moments. “Wahahahahait! Fjohohord!” 

“Tell me where you hid it.” Fjord insists. “Or I’m gonna make you cry.” 

Oh, gods. Molly hopes he does. 

“Lihihihike you cohohohould!” Molly spits back, cackling.

“I’ve got plen-ty of patience, Molly,” Fjord assures him, “...but you’ll find I’m lacking in mercy today.” He wrangles Molly onto his back and starts tickling all along his middle. He spiders over his stomach, pokes and squeezes up his sides and reaches into the coat to tickle his ribs. Molly snorts and laughs wildly, trying desperately to catch Fjord’s hands. He flails in surprised, ticklish distress, unable to do anything other than cackle.

Fjord eventually uses one wide hand to reach behind the tiefling and scratch his fingers over Molly’s shoulder blade while his thumb digs in under his arm. Mollymauk shrieks and dissolves into cackling laughter, curling in on that side. Fjord throws a leg over his waist, straddling him, and uses the other hand to finally get a grip on Molly’s wrist and slide his hand under his knee. He pins him flat on his back, squirming.

Effectively most-of-the-way-pinned, Molly continues to cackle away. 

Fjord grabs the other arm, then, pulling it up over his head and using the tickling hand to scribble up and down, from his armpit to his hip. Molly hiccups with a gasping laugh as he kicks wildly behind Fjord. “NAHAHAHAHA– FUCK!”

“Tell. Me. Where. It. Is.” Fjord punctuates each word with a drilling poke. Molly shouts through more laughter.

Molly shakes his head, his face flushed with laughter.

“Okay. A different approach, then..” He grips Molly by the elbows, shifts up a bit, and then quickly twists the squirming purple tiefling around – through incessant protests – so he’s face down. “Comfy?” Fjord asks, returning Molly’s hands to their position under his knees.

Mollymauk turns his head, trying to get a glimpse of Fjord. He knew if he pushed his buttons enough that he could get a rise like this out of him, but it was already pleasantly more than he had expected. He flashes a little smirk as he catches Fjord’s eye. “Pretty comfortable, sure. Careful of the tail, there, darling.” He brings it up from where its shoved back between Fjord’s legs in the straddle, just managing to flick it over the back point of a ticklish, green ear, teasing. 

“Oh, I’ll be mighty careful of it.” Fjord drawls back as he brings his hands down to the base of where his tail begins at the end of his spine. The fingers are light, almost hovering, and it sends shocking shivers pricking up and down Molly’s spine. 

“Y-eeeEEE- waitwaitwait- nahaHAHA- EEE EHHEEHEEHEE FUCK! FUCK!” Molly struggles under him, his back and shoulders trying to twist in on themselves. “No no no no noOOOHO! AHAHA- wahaAHAHAIT! No! Please! I’m sORRYHEHEHE! FJORD! NAHAHAHAHA—”

“Oh you’re sorry now, hmm? No—” He pauses with a short, bemused chuckle. “—Not yet. But you are going to be.” 

Mollymauk feels the hair on the back of his neck prickle up at what Fjord says. His entire nervous system is alight. Fingers ghost over the skin of his lower back, tracing along his spine, poking gently over and over into the sensitive skin near his tail, scratching at each spot enough to make his skin buzz. 

Mollymauk can handle a lot of tickling, okay? In fact, he’s quite proud of it. He can take Beau and Jester ganging up on him and tickling him to tears, ruthless and unyielding. He can handle Caduceus or Veth or even the agonizingly familiar teasing of Yasha as they take him apart with laughter. He can endure even the most deviously conjured spells that amplify the sensations from his magical tinkering wizards. But, gods, what the fuck? Fjord isn’t going hard, but he is going all out, putting his whole gods-damn orc-ussy into this- this fucking- what even is this? Hell. Unending. Unbearable. Almost-not-there-but-really-really-fucking-there-and-unbearable tickling, fingertips gently brushing against his skin over and over. He can’t shake the surmounting tingle and buzz of his nerves, his brain and skin screaming at him to roll over, to move, to get it to stop, or to get Fjord to dig in harder and just do it already. He wails, frantic, into the mattress, and Fjord continues just as before. The arms along his sides wiggle uselessly where they’re held under Fjord’s knees. It feels even worse, having them down at his sides but able to protect some skin, too close and too far away to do anything other than drive him more crazy. 

“PleheheheheHEEHEHEASE!” Molly squeals, begging.

Fjord doesn’t answer, but he does start slowly moving his tickling fingers upward. It’s not exactly better. It’s different. At least it’s not quite at his tail, right where the nerves all pool and drive him to see stars when tickled for too long. The whole of his back is, fortunately or unfortunately, exceptionally ticklish. 

“See? Much better results this time around.” Fjord says, tracing the backs of Molly’s ribs and watching him wriggle.

“Yohohohohohohou’re an ahahahahahaHAHAHASS!” 

“How rude!” Fjord mock-gasps, and amps up the teasing playfulness of his touches. He ghosts his fingers over Molly’s spine and starts spidering along his shoulder blades.

Molly crumbles into the bed, cackling. “Gahahahahhaa- stahahahahoppit already! HAHAHHA I- eeheeHEEHEE I dohohon’t deserve thihihihis!” He cries out as Fjord traces lightly along his shoulders and spine. “Nononononono!” 

“Yeah… I think I’ll camp out here for a while.” Fjord notes aloud. His fingers continue lightly, making and breaking contact over and over, sending shiver after shiver down Molly’s spine. 

He squirms endlessly, wailing and cackling into the bed as Fjord continues to tickle and tease him. “Might even buy some property, in fact.”

“Shut uhuhuhuhup!” Mollymauk whines as Fjord keeps tickling, keeps talking, keeps teasing. 

He wants to last longer, he really does. He’s waited a long time for this, after all! It’s not easy to get Fjord to really have a go at him. But… he’s not sure how much longer he can manage if Fjord keeps this shit up.

One finger worms its way under his arms, suddenly, on each side. Then two. Molly squeals, trying to clamp his struggling arms down harder, however useless. “NahahahHAHAHA C’MON- HAHA FJORD YOUHOHOHOU! AHH! STAHAHAHAHOP!” He frets as the fingers scratch gently into the hollows under his arms. Fjord’s other hand remains tickling gently along his back. The thumbs nearly meet along his back, discovering a good spot along the base of his shoulder blades that hooks straight into his already buzzing nervous system. He shrieks, his eyes pouring over with tears, his body sparkling with ticklish energy. 

“Tickle, tickle, Mollymauk.” Fjord leans in to tease, his voice gently and syrup-y. “I can do this all day.”

Molly knows he’s right. He tries to think about his options, but his mind is too overwhelmed with ticklish distress to think much other than various curse words.

“Where’s that hat? Where’d you hide it?” Fjord asks, then coos. “Or do I just have to keep tickling you forever?”

“FJORD HEHEH- NO! Please—” He gives in, defeated and hoarse — his voice escapes between gasps and bursts of laughter. “It’s- it’s in the library- the libraryehehehe gods- stop! I-hehehe I cahaahahan’t!” 

“Hm. That’s better.” Fjord replies calmly, as though he’s not taking the tiefling apart at the seams. “You’d better not be lying to me.” 

He draws one finger slowly down his spine.

“I’m not- I’m- I’m-” Molly shrieks and falls into wheezy giggles. “I- I’m not, I-ehehe I promise-” 

“Hmmm.” Fjord shrugs off of him, draws a hand down his tail and runs a thumb over the edge of the spade. 

“Fjord–” Molly’s breath hitches, he closes his eyes in anticipation.

“...Shame.” Fjord sighs. “I thought you’d hold out longer.” 

A prickling swirl of brattiness rises in Molly’s chest. He shifts his shoulders a little and with a shake of his head quickly finds his confidence and dignity again easily as though he hadn't just been brought to tears. But to be honest… he thought he would too. This damn tease of a captain was too good at this. He thinks for a moment. “Had to have a little pity on you, dear, your head looks so naked.” Molly quips breathlessly. 

Fjord narrows his eyes and looks the panting tiefling over. He takes an arm in his hands and manhandles Molly around and upward to a sitting position. “C’mon, up we go then.” Fjord gestures and then pulls Molly all the way to his feet. “The library?”

Molly lets out a residual giggle. “Fine, fine. Follow me, Captain.” He salutes with a smile. 

They make their way through the corridors below deck into one of Caleb’s favorite haunts, the library they keep aboard. 

Molly leads them in. With one hand wrapped around Molly’s forearm, Fjord commands him to point out just exactly where his hat was hidden, which he does.

Ah. The romance section, of course. 

After a few moment’s inspection, Fjord raises an eyebrow, turning slowly back to Molly with an unamused, wide eyed look of annoyance on his face. 

“Oh. You think you’re fucking funny, huh?” 

“What?” Molly scoffs, then clambers in closer to see for himself. The shelf is… “What? No- no I- huh? T-this is where I put it.” He looks into Fjord’s eyes. “I swear!” 

Beside a few books, along the bottom shelf sits: nothing. 

“Sticking with that story are we?” Fjord rolls his eyes. “Looks like you need a little visit to Jester’s dungeon. Maybe that’ll jog your memory, hm?” 

Molly goes violet, his free arm clamoring for a grip on Fjord’s. He squawks. “No, no wait! I don’t- I really don’t know where it is!” His eyes flicker, taking in the scene—processing. 

“We’ll see how long that lasts. You must really be itching for punishment, hm?” 

Molly’s voice is high and flighty as he babbles frantically. “No!” He denies, but then laughs for a moment at himself, as–well.. hadn’t he just been exactly that? “I mean-” He shakes his head. “I- I really don’t know! It’s- it must be somewhere! Jester! She- she set me up! Or Veth or- or, or one of the cats took it—” He peters off into nervous giggles as Fjord tows him out of the library by the arm.

“Sure, sure, the cats.” Fjord responds dismissively with a chuckle. “We’ll see about that.” 

Molly’s mind reels with questions all the way down. Where could the hat be? Did someone sabotage him? Did someone simply find it and put it aside somewhere, Caduceus or Caleb cleaning up innocently? Where could it be? What was Fjord about to do? What did he get himself into? How did he eventually get out? 

Fjord opens the door to Jester’s not-so-secret little dungeon below deck, pulling Molly in with him.

“Fjord, I really don’t know where-” He tries again.

Fjord laughs, smirking. “Come on. Up!” He instructs, frowning when Molly hesitates. “In we go.” 

“But I really–”

“I don’t believe you.” Fjord cuts him off, putting a hand around each of Mollymauk’s arms. He guides him, sputtering, into the seat and then locks each arm into place. 

Mollymauk squirms, unsure of what to do. Perhaps all he can do is just take it until Fjord does believe him. 

Molly swallows as he watches Fjord lift the top of the stocks, grab his leg and guide his ankle into place. First one, then the other, they sit comfortably on the leather padding. Fjord flips the top back over and locks it into place. His gaze flicks back up to meet Mollymauk’s. 

“So...” Fjord begins.

Molly swallows, unsure of what else to say to plead his case.

Fjord stretches, rolls his shoulders, then slides in close. “I don’t know what compelled you to lie to me, Mollymauk, but I’m gonna make you regret it.”

Molly opens his mouth, closes it without speaking. He squirms in his seat, held tightly in place. 

Fjord throws a leg over the tiefling’s and settles in over Mollymauk’s thighs, straddling him once again. Molly blushes under the proximity, the annoyed scrutiny in Fjord’s eyes. 

Fjord slowly wiggles his fingers in toward Molly’s ribs.

Molly sucks in a surprised breath and presses his back into the chair, going nowhere. He smiles nervously and giggles as the fingers close in. They begin to tickle lightly over his ribs on either side, reminding him how open his upper body is now. This time, there’s not arms pinned to his sides. There’s also no mattress in front of his face to hide and wail and cry into. He’s right here, stuck, directly in front of Fjord. 

Fjord watches him weigh out his situation in live time, a bemused smile on his face. “I knew you were a glutton for punishment, but…” Fjord trails off, chuckling a little. He brings his fingers up to lightly poke and scratch under Molly’s arms, making him gasp and twitch and giggle. He does the same to his neck, his chest, his collarbone. Molly jumps and tingles with each touch. 

“Last chance for a while, wanna tell me where that hat is, for real this time?” 

Molly’s eyes are scrunched from laughing. “I hehehehehee I told you—”

“You still ��don’t know’ hmm?” Fjord sighs. “Okay. I have a feeling you’ll remember later.” 

He gets up, patting Molly’s cheek. He stands and walks over to a nearby cabinet, opening a door outside of Molly’s view and considering something or another inside. Mollymauk is all too familiar with its contents, though usually he is getting them for himself or handing them off to Jester. He smiles nervously, giddy with anticipation and a little tingle or fear, uncertainty. 

Fjord comes back with a cloth gag, walking around behind the chair as Mollymauk squawks. “I- heh- I thought you wanted me to talk?! What’s this about?” 

“I do. And you will. Eventually. For now, I want you to think real hard about where you left that hat of mine.” Fjord assures him, voice steady but teasing. “I’ll take this off …in a while.” 

Molly feels the gag pull over his lips and grunts, wriggling indignantly. Fjord has it around and nearly in his mouth, though, and pulls tightly with one hand. There’s a sudden scribble under his arm, Fjord’s other hand, and Mollymauk shrieks out a little laugh. The gag slides into place easily. 

“Mmmph!” He grunts in protest around it. 

“That’s much better.” Fjord says, and Mollymauk rolls his eyes. 

Fjord just pats his cheek, giving him a dark smile as he wanders down to the stocks. Mollymauk twitches his toes, squirms in his seat. 

Fjord grips the base of Molly’s heels, making him jump suddenly at the contact. He runs his thumbs firmly up both soles, not tickling yet. He rubs into the balls of each foot for a moment, then each toe. Molly watches him suspiciously. Fjord fiddles with the tops of the stocks and Mollymauk’s heart sinks. He feels more than sees the first of the ties wrapping around his toes, keeping them in place and stretching out his foot. He shakes his head, pleading wordlessly into the gag. 

Fjord ignores him and ties back the toes of his other foot. He claps his hands together when he’s done, smiling at his work. “Perfect. Now..” He brings a small stool out to sit on, and leans in close to examine Molly’s barely squirming feet.

Molly feels scrutinized, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He can’t quite see Fjord’s hands, or his own feet. He can’t talk. He can’t argue. He can only sit there, watch as his torment draws closer, and then take it for as long as Fjord decides to keep him like this. He squirms in his seat in a giddy, nervous excitement at the prospect. 

Fjord traces down one sole, then the other, toe to heel and back up again. One finger on each, then two, then three. Molly is giggling into the gag, his feet unable to do anything to dampen or distract from the sensation. Fjord’s little smile widens, clearly amused by Molly’s suffering. He zeros in on a spot about an inch under his big toe and scratches there incessantly on both feet. Mollymauk squawks loudly into the gag before throwing back his head. 

“MMMMFMFFMFFMM!” Molly shakes his head side to side. 

Fjord scratches his nails up under his toes, and tickles there until Molly makes a distressing shriek behind the gag. He slows back down a moment, but tickles lightly all over his captive feet, his heels, his ankles, the sides and tops where he can reach, every inch of skin along his soles. 

Molly loses track of how long it’s been and - briefly - why he’s even here in the first place. He’s so used to the tickling along his feet that when there’s a sudden pinch at his knee he jolts unexpectedly.

“Hey.” 

“Mmm?” Molly says weakly, little tears forming in his eyes. 

“You feel like fessing up yet?” Fjord asks with a gentle smile, standing and moving around behind Molly’s head to untie the gag. Molly nearly spits it out as he gulps in a few greedy breaths, trying to calm his residual laughter.

Fjord watches him, expecting some confession. Molly’s lip quivers as he watches Fjord with increasing desperation. “I… I don’t know…” 

Fjord sighs, “you really are a stubborn one,” and in a moment he’s standing and walking back behind the stocks to pinch one toe in between his fingers. “How about I show you something Jester showed me?” He suggests, walking back over to the cabinet. 

Molly watches him, quiet aside from fading giggles and fast breathing. 

Fjord pulls out a bottle and two brushes, one of the writing, calligraphy variety, and another that looks to be wide, made of wood or something of the like, and used for combing hair. He walks back over, and –helpless to do anything else, Molly watches on curiously.

Fjord takes his seat back at the end, scoots forward a bit, and sets down his little tools. The bottle, when Fjord opens it high enough to remain in Molly’s sight, appears to have its own applicator brush attached to the lid. Fjord swirls the brush around a few times, soaking up the liquid, then pops it out. It disappears from view, and soon Molly jumps in his seat as the cool, slick liquid slides across his skin. 

He can’t help a surprised giggle that escapes, and soon neither the laughter nor the slide of the brush can be stopped. 

After a realistically-short but mentally-unending period of time, the slathering appears to be complete enough to Fjord’s liking. Molly twitches his toes and shivers. His feet feel cool, slippery, and ever so trapped. 

“Now…” Fjord says calmly. He brings the calligraphy brush up and runs it under Molly’s toes, making him squeal. 

“WaitwaitwaitWAIT!” Molly shrieks. “Whahahahat is that?! That- that shit mahahahkes it so much wohohohohorse! Whatthefuhuhuhuck?! AhHHH! Nohohohoho!” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You’re not getting your hands on our little recipe any time soon.” Fjord scolds, then adds with a smirk. “Nope. Just your feet.” 

Molly dissolves into cackles and gasps as Fjord drags the small brush in swirling tickles across the canvas of his soles. It fits perfectly between his toes and all along the most ticklish lines of skin. 

Fjord’s brush finds a particularly sensitive spot under and between his middle toes; he takes note of how running the brush over the tops of his toes makes Molly squirm. He takes his time, compares the bad spots on each foot to double check that they work in both spots. It’s devious, methodical, and Molly wishes almost more than anything that he could burn through the toe-ties with sheer force of will. 

Fjord spends time tickling each foot thoroughly before he finally sets the tool down. Molly is sweating, voice hoarse from laughing. His feet are tingling with sensation even after he stops for a brief breather.

“Ah- Fjord.. Please..” Molly asks weakly. 

Fjord looks back up at him. “Hat?” 

Molly lets out a defeated groan, lolling his head to the side. 

Fjord stands, and Molly watches as he pulls something out of his pocket — a long, thin, black band of cloth. Mollymauk’s eyes widen. “Wait! N-Not another gag!?”

“Nope.” Fjord confirms. He brings the fabric over his eyes and ties it behind his head. Molly pouts as it is tied into place, leaving him in darkness. “Now then, where was I?” 

Molly shivers in the dark, listening carefully as his nervous system trembles with anticipation. 

Something hard scratches down his foot–a bunch of ‘something’s, actually. It’s overwhelming, electric, incessant. It’s all Molly can feel and focus on as he screams out a wild, desperate laugh. “WhAHAHAT THEFUCKISTHAT?! HAHAHA AH- HahahahaHAHA!” 

“I think you like this little guy, hm?” Fjord teases, scratching the brush just under his toes along the ball of his foot.

Mollymauk throws his head back against the back of the chair. The laughter tears out of him at a speed and intensity that surprises them both. “PLHEHEHEHEHEEEEASE!”

“Please what?”

“EheheHEHEHEHEEHEE- YOHOHOU’RE KILLIN’ MEEHEHEHEHE!” Molly whines through frantic laughter. 

“Oh relax, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not gonna kill you.” Fjord speaks calmly, as though soothing a child. “I’m just gonna make you really, really wish you were dead.” His voice is sweet as the words drip out like honey, and Molly shivers from more than just the tickling sensations lighting up his soles. 

“PFFFAHHAAHFUCK!” Molly cries — both in the sense of crying out aloud during his cackling, and in the other—more literal—sense, as tears bleed into the cloth tied over his eyes. He clasps and unclasps his fingers. He presses deeply into the seat and strains uselessly against the stocks — all for nothing. His laughter rings out boisterously as Fjord continues to scrub the brush up and down his foot, then switch to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. Overwhelming, but never enough to get desensitized to in any one place. 

“PLEHEEHHEEASE!” Molly shrieks.

“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Fjord snickers, looking up from his feet to take in Mollymauk’s squirming, desperate form. 

“Don’t knohohohHOOW! I dohOHON’T know wHERE—” Molly babbles incoherently, still trying to bargain with his captor. 

“You don’t know where your attitude went?” Fjord laughs, pulling the brush away from his soles for the first time in far, far too long. 

Molly heaves in deep, shaky breaths. “I- heh- I… –what?” 

Fjord hums, sounding amused. They sit in the ‘silence’ of Molly deliriously catching his breath.

“Maybe I should believe you…” Fjord says after a little time passes and Molly sounds a bit less frenetic. 

Molly tries to give his best hopeful, honest smile. It’s hard without the eyes. He picks up the sound of Fjord getting up from his seat, a little relief washes over him. 

Then the brush is back, and Mollymauk is wailing out a surprised bark of laughter. “WAITHAHAHA— WAIT!”

“--But, on the other hand..” Fjord sighs, bringing his other hand to tickle along the sole of Molly’s right foot as he brushes up and down his left. Mollymauk almost wishes for a gag with how loudly he shouts and shrieks through desperate laughter. The hand and brush switch. They switch back a little while later. 

“Hmm.” Fjord says, stopping again after a few minutes. “What do you think?”

Molly whimpers, smiling defeatedly. “I thihihink I am going to die here.” 

“Not if you tell me the truth.”

“I am telling yohohohou the truth.” 

“Well, I have to make sure you’re not lying.” Fjord says, shrugging, and then the terrible brushing starts up again.

“Whyhyhyhyhy WHYHEHEHEHE would I STILL BEHEHEHE LYING?! HAHAAAHEHE- oh noOHO! Plehehehehease!” Molly argues as much as he can get out as he’s laughing.

“You tell me.” Fjord replies, not letting up. “Maybe you’re just a masochist.” 

Molly definitely does not hate being on the receiving end of an evening like this, it’s true. He would take a moment to consider that if he had a brain cell that could focus on anything other than the incessant scrubbing of the hairbrush along his soles. It scrapes across the balls, the arches, the heel, up and down, up and down, over and over. The slick oily liquid covering his feet lets it glide with almost no resistance. All tickles, no resistance — yeah, Molly is probably going to die here.

He’s wheezing by the time Fjord stops again. He hesitates, half-pleading through his laughter, wondering when it’s going to start up again. 

It doesn’t… And Fjord doesn’t say anything.

It still doesn’t… And then, finally, Fjord’s pulling down the blindfold. “Hey, there.” 

Molly’s eyes adjust weakly to the light, the blindfold is damp with his tears. He mutters some kind of reply before closing his eyes again. “Fjord…” 

“Mollymauk.” Fjord says, leaving the blindfold down around his neck and standing back up. He doesn’t even ask about the hat this time. “Would you like to know my favorite thing about this?” 

Fjord points down to Molly’s slickened soles as he paces slowly back over behind the stocks.

“..What?” Molly asks, hesitantly.

“Well, we’ve gotta clean you up, and lucky for me…” He runs a finger across his sole and gets some of the silky liquid on it. “It’s. Edible.” Fjord says, then breaks into an enormous grin. 

Mollymauk thrashes in his seat, feeling whiplashed and unable to do anything but convulse and shout and wiggle in place. “NONONO WAIT! WHATTHEFUCKFJORD- DON’TDON’TDOHOHOHON’T! NO NO NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” 

Fjord’s face sinks halfway out of view as Molly feels the swish of a tongue over his toes. He squeals and laughs frantically. Fjord pulls one toe into his mouth, tickles a pattern into it with the tip of his tongue. He draws in another and licks at the space between them, tickling absurdly more than Molly had anticipated. 

Mollymauk is lost to laughter, squealing desperate pleas and wishing very much that he could get his hands on this concoction in the near future. Fjord haphazardly makes his way down his toes, licks a few stripes up each sole. Molly is wheezing by the time he’s done, tears streaking down his cheeks. 

Fjord stops short of fully ‘cleaning’ the slick liquid from his soles, grinning up at an extremely disheveled and blushing Molly delightedly. 

“Ahh.” Molly leans back, gasping in a breath. “Fuck, that was fucking—yohou’re a monster.” 

“You don’t know the half of it.” Fjord chuckles lightly. “Alright, come on. Out with it already. Let’s put an end to this.”

“I…” Molly bites his lip and looks down.

“You’re seriously still not gonna tell me?” 

“I- I… buhuhut.. I’m nohohohohot lying.” Molly whines, tossing his head back. “I’m not.”

“Do I need to get the gag back out for a while?” 

Mollymauk’s eyes go wide as his head snaps back up. “Fjord— plehehease, I- I don’t know hohohow much more of this I can take—”

Fjord doesn’t even acknowledge him, shakes his head once. “Nah. I have a different idea.” 

Anticipatory dread settles in Molly’s stomach as he waits for whatever horrible idea Fjord has thought up now.

 “Now, how about we try and get you to answer some other questions first, start small.” 

Molly listens nervously. “…L-Like what?” 

Fjord leans in close. “Like…” He looks Molly’s form over, scrutinizing again. He brings his hands in close and tickles lightly and precisely under Molly’s arms. “Does this tickle?” 

Molly, already overly sensitized and giddy, breaks into laughter with ease. His hands form into useless fists and he squirms with the little give he has in the bondage. He shakes his head in surprise as he laughs.

“No?!” Fjord asks, with a delighted smile and mock-anger. “This doesn’t tickle one bit? What I’m doing right here?” He spiders his fingers and pokes into the soft, ticklish hollows. 

Molly laughs frantically, catching on to the game. “I-It does! AHHH- hahaHA IT TICKLES- haha HA AHAHAHFUCK!” 

Fjord continues with this line of questioning, finding all of the worst spots his hands can reach. “How about here?”, “What about this spot?”, “Does this one tickle, too?”, and “Are you sure?”.

Molly squeals and cackles at each new attack and point of contact. Fjord lingers in a few places, such as Mollymauk’s hips and ribs and bellybutton, asking over and over if he’s sure — like really sure, like really, really sure! And that he isn’t lying, of course.

Fjord reaches around behind the seat next, fitting his fingers between the panels of the back and scratching ticklishly at Molly’s shoulder blades. 

“Does it tickle here?” 

“YEHE-YEHEHES! FUAHAHA—”

“Oh it does?” And then the fingers slip out and are instantly back at that maddening spot high on his thigh. “How about here?” 

“MMMF— OH FUCK! PLEHEHEASE! NOHOHO NAHAHAH STAHAHA— STAHAHOP!” 

“Ohh, you can’t take it?”

Between cackling laughter, Molly shrieks. “NO!”

“Isn’t this juuuust what you wanted, though? And apparently still is, since you’re still stuck on your little fib.”

Molly shakes his head. “I DIHIHI-DIDN’T LIEHEHEHEHE PLEHEHEHEASE! FJOHRHRHRE EHEH— FJORD!” He snorts as he laughs hysterically in place. “NOHOHOHOT LYING- DOHOHON’T KNOW- DYHYHYHYHYING-”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Do I need to get the gag again?” 

“NOHOHO!” Molly shrieks back. 

Fjord focuses in, wraps his hands around either side of Molly’s thigh, and starts tickling maddenly light from every angle. Molly twitches violently, laughing. “Hahah FUCK! HHAHAHA AHHH HAHA Whahahahahat the fuhuhuhuck ahahhahHAHAHA!” 

“Telllllllll meeeeeee.” Fjord practically sings. He stops the maddening tickle claw attack, only to move it to his other thigh and start again. 

Mollymauk cries through cackling laughter, wishing he had something more to say. 

He stands, returning to the back of the chair and finding Molly’s tail flailing nervously behind it, the only bastion of freedom in where he is bound. Fjord notes the double ring along the back that can comfortably house Jester’s tail for just such occasions, and he smiles. He takes the tail in his hand, and Molly gasps then shouts. “Wait! Wait–!” 

“No waiting.” Fjord responds, wrestling the tail into place and locking the rings to keep it still. He grips just under the spade, holding the tail firmly. “Think we need to take things up a notch, in fact.” 

“No- nononono what the fuhuhuhuhcuckck does that mehehehehean– Fjord dohohon’t- haHAA—” He cries as Fjord scratches, light and gently as ever, over the spade of his tail. The feeling shoots along his tail, along his spine, straight through his nervous system with a terrifyingly strong buzz. It’s maddening. Molly throws his head back into the chair and screams. Fjord tickles lightly over the skin, keeping his touch gentle and ghosting to tease the tiefling and short-out his mind temporarily.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE I - I DOHOHOHON’T KNOW!” 

“You want it worse than this? Really?” Fjord says, sounding surprised. “Okay… you asked for it.” 

“NOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEEE AHHHAHA–” 

Fjord leans closer, drawing in a deep breath, before he releases it onto the pinned end of his tail. The sensation vibrates against Molly’s skin and sets him freshly alight. He scream-laughs incoherent pleas until it ends. Then, Fjord lands another raspberry, and another, Mollymauk’s only relief being the brief moments it takes to breathe in. 

“FUHDHJAANAAHAAHHAA HAHAHA NO HAHAH FJORDFJORDFJOOOOOORD AHHAHAA!” 

He takes the tip of the tail into his mouth, nibbling it, and Molly wails, banging his head back again. He licks at the purple skin, traces the piercings with his tongue. 

Mollymauk cries on the other side of the chair, pleading incoherently.There’s a lightning bolt of buzzing, tickling shock overloading his system. Fjord’s lips and scruff skate over Molly’s tail as he sucks in a breath for another raspberry. Fjord’s hands soon make themselves known again with what begin as featherlight scritches in his armpits. Molly tugs down as hard as he can, trying to free his arms but only stretching the muscles there tauter. Instead of an explosion of vibration, Fjord huffs out the breath he was holding and licks the spade of his tail again, dragging tooth and tongue over it, and Molly’s vision goes white. Sparks crackle through the few levels of conscious brain function he has that aren’t completely overwhelmed and consumed with how badly this tickles. Fjord uses the edges of his nails to scratch under both squirming underarms while tickling a horrible, evil, distressingly effective trail along the underside of the spade with his tongue. It’s everything and overwhelming and he can’t think or give him any answers and there’s nothing he can say to make him stop because he doesn’t know what happened to the stupid fucking hat and he isn’t stopping and— 

“AHAHAL-LICORIHIHIHICE!” Molly gasps out desperately, wheezing through his cackles. 

Fjord leans back, picking up on the safeword the Nein had established for just such situations, and his fingers still instantly.

“Ahaha aha! Please-” Molly wheezes desperately. “I’m- I’m not lying- I really don’t know! I- I don’t! That’s where I-hihi put it! I don’t know where it is! Please- pleasehehehe Fjord you have to stop! I- I can’t- p-please! You have to belieheheheheheve me–”

“Mmm.” Fjord hums, and it almost sounds scolding until Molly peaks an eye open and catches his smirk. “Yeah alright… I believe you.” Molly sighs, slinking back against the chair back. Fjord lets him relax into the chair a moment before he drops the other shoe. “…‘Cause I found your little hiding spot an hour ago and put it back where it belonged.” 

Molly gapes at him. “You- what? Wait. Wait. Wait. So– so you, what - you planned this-? You- you knew the whole time? And you–”

Fjord chuckles. “Serves you right for trying to hide my shit.” 

Molly exhales shakily, gaping. “Heh…” After a beat he smirks. “Jester is rubbing off on you.” His eyes flutter shut as his head leans back against the chair.

“Mmm. Next time I’ll bring her in for backup.” 

Molly’s eyes shoot back open. He holds his palms open where his hands are shackled and shakes his head. “Now, now- no need for that.”

“Mmhmm. We’ll see.” Fjord grins. “I know you only took my shit so I’d do this.” 

Molly scoffs, then sputters a bit before finds in the words, “Ah- I.. w-well, not… not– I didn’t know you’d…do this.” 

“Ehh. You kinda deserved it.” 

Molly attempts a shrug. 

“You can just ask me instead of antagonizing me into making you cry, you know.” Fjord pats Molly’s hair soothingly and then reaches up to release one of his wrists.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Molly laughs weakly.

“Hmm.” Fjord chuckles at that. “True, and I have to say, it was priceless seeing your face when the hat wasn’t in there and you realized you were fucked. Oh man. I should’ve invited Jester, actually, so she could draw it for you.”

Molly turns to look at the far wall, magenta warming his cheeks. “You’re positively fucking evil, I hope you know.”

“Sure, sure.” Fjord chuckles along smugly, releasing his other arm. “And you love it.” It falls unceremoniously into Molly’s lap. The straps holding him and his tail back against the chair loosen and release soon after. Molly rubs his wrists gingerly, watching Fjord with a weary smile.

Fjord steps around to the stocks, along his way admiring the silly look of embarrassment that rarely graces Mollymauk’s features. With a twist and click, his ankles are free, and Molly draws them in weakly, rubbing at his ankles next. 

Fjord takes a wrist in his hands and rubs at the muscle gently but firm. “Mmm.” Molly hums as his eyes fall shut, content to let Fjord continue after all he’d just been put through.

“You lasted a long time.” Fjord rubs his shoulders and cups the back of his neck. “Seriously, I’m impressed.” 

Molly shrugs sheepishly, a blush still on his cheeks.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere a little more cozy. I’ll bet I can get Caduceus to make us up some yummy tea.” Fjord scoops the limp ball of lavender tiefling the rest of the way up into his arms. He considers briefly, that perhaps this is not the best motivation to get the tiefling to stop fucking with his things. Then, with a soft smile, he carries him out of ‘Jester’s dungeon’ and back up to their creature comforts. 

[oliviaischillin1204]

when dick was still young and more difficult to embarrass, i think maybe bruce bribed him to do things in exchange for a visit from the tickle monster. because dick loved affection and he loved being tickled, so of course he loved a visit from the tickle monster

"if you remember to brush your teeth, the tickle monster might pay you a visit" "eat all your vegetables" "dont go off on your own on patrol" "do your homework" etc etc

as Dick gets older and less open about how fun he finds tickling (and also his and Bruce's relationship fracturing over time in general), this game of theirs sort of naturally dies off and they both kind of forget about it

but one day he finds his kids goading each other into doing things with tickling ("i wont stop tickling until you promise to go to bed" "i'll stop tickling you if you admit you cheated" "youre getting tickled until you admit you pulled that prank AND apologize for it") and bruce remembers how back in the day it was the exact opposite and gets super nostalgic and also that weird homesickness for a time in your past that you can never return to (he loves all his kids and he can appreciate where he is in life now and would never jeopardize that, but he cant help but miss when things were less complicated, esp in his and dick's relationship)

so the next time dick is on a gotham visit and bruce needs him to do something ("if you pick up damian and duke from school for me, i'll make sure the tickle monster pays you a visit" "if you dont tell alfred about me getting a minor injury on patrol, the tickle monster would be very grateful" "alfred cut off my coffee intake, if you smuggle me some, the tickle monster would be more than happy to meet with you" etc etc) and dick is SO EMBARRASSED he's like "dsjfhsdf no i dont know what you mean B youre crazy psh why would i be Asking for that i dont know what youre trying to get at but im not a kid anymore" but he still does what bruce asks anyway

so of course he gets his reward from the tickle monster. and holy burning lungs batman, bruce may not have tickled him since he was a kid, but he certainly hasnt forgotten any of the tickle spots of methods that make dick scream in laughter. at least his siblings didnt overhear the deal, or see his tickle monster attack go through, cuz he'd never live it down

and he sorta kinda hopes bruce tries to bribe him/make a deal with him next time he visits gotham too

[oliviaischillin1204]

I headcanon that when Tim (gets the chance) to tickle his sibling, he is very sciencey with it 💀 like he will literally rank the spots from 1-10 talking about what reactions they make etc. And then the next day, they find a piece of paper taped to the fridge saying *sibling name* tickle chart and its literally just a list of all spots labelled from 1-10 and the reactions, and by the time the victim of Tim's wrath sees it the WHOLE HOUSE has seen it.

NO BUT LITERALLY!!!! He is so methodical about it!!! I feel like I have written so little ler!Tim, but when i do, i usually try to get this aspect in because its so true!!! he likes to collect information about people!!

but sdjkfhdsfh omg oh no, not the tickle chart ON THE FRIDGE for EVERYONE TO SEE -- Tim's definitely gonna see repercussions for that lol

[oliviaischillin1204]

Could we please have a fic

Where Tim is still adjusting to being a lil bro and he's still a bit nervous around Jason because the RH incident and Jason is fully aware that his lil bro is scared of him, and then Dick, (very purposefully) tells Jason that Tim is ticklish. Jason decides to use this information.

editing? who's she? (aka i was too lazy to edit a 5.5K tickle fic i just wanted to post it jksdhsdjfh)

also, seeing as my life is consumed by DC/esp the Batfam right now i was compelled to actually do my research for this fic and i went and found teen titans volume 3 #29 and looked through their fight. and dont get me wrong i love a good titans tower fic, tim drake is The whumpable character ever, but it is SO FUNNY to me the way fandom has apparently blown this so out of proportion because skimming that fight between the two it was literally like. the vigilante equivalent of squaring up behind the Waffle House at 3am while Jason is wearing a Party City Robin outfit sdjfhdsfj it was so unserious, he was definitely a theater kid lol, Tim wasn't even busted up that bad the worst he had was a bloody nose and maybe a concussion from the final blow lol

so i leaned more into the canon energy of it (snarky Tim who held his own decently well) because i think the whole fanon "he-almost-murdered-me-and-i'm-traumatized-and-terrified" energy leans into a fear dynamic that i am not necessarily comfortable exploring in a fluffy tickle fic? so i hope that's alright and that you still enjoy this fic even though i didnt full lean into that "scared of jason" energy i think you were looking for!

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Brothers Forged in Laughter

Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity -- though i do briefly reference Teen Titans volume 3 #29)

Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Tim & Ler!Jason (plus a very brief Ler!Dick)

Word Count: 5623 words

Summary: Tim wasn’t Jason's little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. But, well, the kid was kind of asking for it at this point. Maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.

[ao3 link]

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Developing an unspoken sort of truce with the Bats had not been on Jason’s to-do list when he returned to Gotham, especially after his little trip to Titan’s Tower or the explosive confrontation between him, Bruce, and the Joker. Really, Jason blamed Dick. He was like a leech, it was impossible to shake him once he got his teeth sunk in.

Still, it had its benefits. He didn’t have to worry about getting arrested and thrown in Arkham anymore, for one. Not to mention, the Bats left Crime Alley well alone now (bar an Arkham breakout), leaving the neighborhood to Jason’s expertise. But most of all: access to the Batcave.

Jason didn’t necessarily enjoy his visits to the Cave, but there were things that Bruce’s money could buy that Jason had difficulty getting his hands on. For instance, the state-of-the-art lab that was hooked up to the Batcomputer and all its insane processing speed. 

With Batman publicly off on a JL mission and no risk of running into Bruce, Jason didn’t hesitate breaking into the Batcave (was it really breaking in if they never deactivated Jason’s codes in the first place? Jason liked to think so) to study a concoction from his latest Scarecrow copy-cat that thought Crime Alley made a great testing ground. It was just his luck that the little replacement Robin happened to be down in the Cave at the same time, drowning in an oversized hoodie and staring down one of the Batcomputer’s monitors with bloodshot eyes. One of his arms was in a sling, but Jason didn’t keep track of the Bats’ cases enough to know what had caused the injury. He was more wilted than the oregano plant Jason had forgotten at one of his lesser-used safehouses. And, more importantly, he was in Jason’s way.

“Pretty sure little birdies are meant to be resting when their wings get clipped,” Jason called out as he walked up the steps toward the Batcomputer.

The line of Tim’s shoulders went taught as his head snapped around to glare at Jason. “I’m pretty sure zombie crime lords are supposed to stick to Crime Alley.”

Jason held up his sample of knock-off toxin, shaking the liquid inside. “Wouldn’t exactly be here if I didn’t have to.”

Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line as he huffed a breath out through his nose. “Fine.”

Jason rolled his eyes as he turned toward the mass spectrometer, fumbling a bit to set it up properly. It’d been a while since he’d had to use one, and the one in the Cave was a lot newer than the one he’d used as Robin. It didn’t help that the back of his neck burned from the eyes boring into it.

“Don’t need a babysitter, y’know.”

“Like I’m leaving you in the Cave unsupervised.”

Jason scoffed. “What am I gonna do, poison your juice boxes?” The machine finally started running rounds of analysis, so Jason spun around to lean against it, locking his eyes onto Tim. And the stack of soda cans next to him. “Or your Zesti, apparently. Alfred lets you drink all that shit?”

Tim stayed silent, narrowing his eyes.

Jason lit up. “He doesn’t, does he?” He laughed, eyeing the pile of empty cans again. “Maybe we should call him down right now, what do you say?”

Jason started towards Tim and the Batcomputer, only meaning to ruffle his hair, maybe tease him a bit more about his serious sugar addiction, but he came up short as Tim slipped a hand against the underside of the Batcomputer’s desk, fingers subtly searching. Jason knew there was a panic button under there, even though he’d never had to use it during his time as Robin. It would send alerts to Alfred, to Dick, to every device of Bruce’s – hell, it might even send alerts to Clark or Diana at this point. Jason really didn’t need Superman busting in with a disgruntled Batman in his arms while he was trying to get work done.

So he backed off, raising his hands in mocking surrender as he leaned back against the machinery behind him, playing it off with a sarcastic, “Damn then, Boy Wonder, keep your secrets.”

The rest of Jason’s visit to the Cave was spent in tense silence, only broken in brief intervals to discuss the specifics of Jason’s case and the results of the toxin analysis. Turns out it was developed from an older strain of Crane’s – the most current fear toxin antidote could wipe it out no problem.

It didn’t leave him as satisfied as it should have, feeling all off-kilter as he mounted his motorcycle and started his drive back to Crime Alley. He couldn’t shake the hard look in Tim’s eyes as his fingers searched the bottom of the desk. It was fucking infuriating. What should he care if the newest little Robin was scared of him, after all? He and the Bats weren’t a team, and Robin certainly wasn’t his responsibility.

Maybe Jason had inhaled a little of the toxin when running the analysis. That was all.

*     *     *

Scared wasn’t really the right word, Jason realized over time. Because Tim was very obviously not afraid of him. He would poke and prod at Jason, even outright mock him sometimes. His glares were fierce and intense, his tone short and snappy. At times, he almost seemed to be seeking out a fight, like he wanted a rematch, to prove the words he said back at Titan’s Tower.

“Do you think you’re that good now? Do you really, Tim?”

“Yes.”

Wary seemed more accurate. He wasn’t frightened of Jason, but he was mostly certainly on edge. Even more so when Jason started visiting the Manor itself, finally giving in to Alfred and Dick’s invitations (though he still staunchly refused the invitations for family dinners – no way in hell he was being civil with Bruce for that long.). Tim would eye Jason like one would a particularly reactive dog – cautious and ready to act, but without any outright fear or anxiety.

And Jason… he could live with that. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but it’s not like they were family or anything. Just because Bruce took in the kid didn’t make them brothers – and it wasn’t like Bruce was his father anymore, anyway. The itch that grew under Jason’s skin when Tim would look at him like that was purely from having eyes on him, that was all. And he didn’t feel guilty for making the kid feel like that, thank you very much – that lingering weight in his chest was just a perfectly normal reaction to Dick’s puppy-dog eyes every time he and Tim sniped at each other. 

Seriously. No grown man should be able to make that expression. It was unnatural. 

He was so used to Tim’s cold shoulders that when he arrived at the Cave one afternoon, he almost fell off his motorcycle at the bright, cackling laugh that echoed across the stone once he cut his engine. It was boyish, childish, happy – all the things Robin should be. For a moment, it made old bitterness crawl up the back of his throat like bile, but he just as quickly swallowed it back down. He’d already taken out enough on the kid.

The laughter grew louder as he climbed the stairs up to the Batcave’s main platform, growing squeakier or snortier or gigglier in various intervals. By the time he made it up the stairs, Jason had a pretty good idea of what was happening. Turning away from the Batcomputer and towards the training mats easily confirmed it.

Because there was the Boy Wonder, in all his red-faced glory, cackling up a storm as Dick tickled the absolute shit out of him. 

At least Dick had someone besides Jason to take all that tickle-monster energy out on, now.

Dick’s head shot up as Jason’s boot scuffed across the stone, and he shot Jason a grin. “Hey, Little Wing!” Tim’s laughter lightened, growing more giggly. Probably Dick lightening up his attack in case he wanted to participate in the conversation. “What brings you here?”

“Came by to hack into the computer.” Jason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Got some CCTV to look into, and the setup is better here than in any of my safehouses.”

Dick nodded, and Tim’s laughter jumped in pitch again.

“Jesus,” Jason said. “You trying to kill the kid?”

Dick laughed himself and finally let up, leaving Tim to roll onto his side and catch his breath. 

“Nah – but I think I might’ve finally found someone more ticklish than you, Jay.” He gave Jason a meaningful look, winking when he was sure Tim wasn’t looking.

Jason scoffed. He would not be filing that information away for later, thank you very much, because Tim was not his baby brother. “Yeah, whatever. I grew out of that – Lazarus Pits and all.”

Dick narrowed his eyes, a disarming smile on his lips. “Oh, really? That’s too bad. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, then, if I–”

Jason swiftly backed away from the mats. “Yeah, no. I’m busy – came here to work and all. Try to keep it down, will you?” He managed to catch Tim’s eye for a second. “Try his thighs,” he advised. “Or just under his ribs. Makes for great revenge.”

“Wha– Jason!”

Jason turned his back on them, not wanting to unpack the narrow-eyed look Tim gave him. Not even moments later he heard Dick yelp.

“Oh, no you don’t – you’ll regret that!”

And the Cave was quickly filled with laughter once more, two sets of it this time. Not exactly the quiet environment Jason had hoped for when he came by to work, but he would deal. The Batcomputer had high-quality headphones for a reason.

And, privately, Jason thought those two could use more opportunities to smile.

*     *     *

Over time, the uneasy truce settled into something more comfortable. There were times it still chafed, itching at Jason’s skin until he felt he needed to claw it off, but things were rarely so tense anymore that Jason expected to be cut off like a necrotic limb. Hood still handled Crime Alley, the Bats tackled the rest of Gotham, and sometimes, if the cards fell right, they were able to work cases together without any casualties.

Cases like this new up-and-coming gang. They’d spread outside of the Alley, maneuvering in areas where Hood didn’t have as much reach or authority, but they were still spreading through his own territory like slow-acting poison. There was only so much he could do, and so when Dick offered the Bats up to help, Jason agreed with only minimal bitching. 

Which led him to this warehouse rooftop, going on three hours crouched uncomfortably next to Robin, the irritation of a failed stakeout grating against his ribs and skull. The established gang these newbies were trying to ally with hadn’t even shown, and even the newbies were starting to pack up shop, wanting to get back to base before dawn broke. The newest little Robin, however, didn’t seem to be getting the memo that this was a bust.

“Kid,” Hood all but growled. “Let’s go, there’s nothing more for us here.”

Robin scoffed, still laying on his stomach and not bothering to drop the binoculars to have a conversation with Hood. “Something might still happen. I’m not going to drop this just because you’re getting impatient.”

A flash of irritation bubbled up in Hood’s chest, frustration coiling hot in his stomach. The gang was leaving, Hood was starving, his knees ached from crouching on this roof all night, and he really should’ve told Dick no when Robin was offered up to help with the stakeout. But of course, the Bat himself was too busy with some last-minute JL business, and Nightwing had his own problems in Bludhaven to deal with. The worst part was that Robin was right, something could still happen, but Hood sincerely doubted it. They hadn’t gotten any new or relevant info in the past two hours, and Hood was ready to stuff his face with some greasy fast food and pass out for the next six hours.

And so as the newbies finished loading up their vehicles and driving off, Hood reached over to snatch the binoculars from Robin. Somehow, even with his face buried behind the plastic, he knew Hood was coming and shifted out of the way, thrusting a foot into Hood’s chest to try and hold him back. Hood’s height was an advantage here, but Robin still refused to let go of the binoculars, staring after the newbies’ vehicles as if they held the answers to the universe. 

And Hood, overtired and ready to be out of all this goddamned armor and in bed, let his instincts take over again. He jabbed one hand up under Robin’s arm, poking and prodding at the softer spot in the armor designed for mobility. Robin made an awkward squawking sound, his arm shooting down to protect the vulnerable spot and cutting the grip he had on the binoculars by half. Hood easily wrenched them from his hand after that, tucking them into an inner pocket in his leather jacket.

“Come on,” Hood said, standing and brushing himself off like nothing happened. “Batburger, I’m buying.”

Robin scowled at him, eyes unreadable behind the white-out lenses of the domino, and slowly rose to his feet. “Fine. But I want Jokerized fries, and I don’t care how you feel about it.”

*     *     *

Jason had to wonder if the kid ever slept. Every time he came by the Cave, Tim was there too – training, running samples, working cases on the Batcomputer – no matter what absurd hour he arrived. Jason let out a loud, long, obnoxious sigh as he cleared the stairs to the main platform of the Batcave, and Tim immediately whipped around and glared at him over the back of the desk chair.

“Can I help you?” Tim snapped.

“I need the computer.” Jason kicked the base of the desk chair as he approached, propelling it several inches to the left. 

Tim’s scowl deepened, and he rolled the chair back into position. “Well you can wait. I’m busy with a case.”

Instead of arguing further, Jason opted for the quickest route of success. He grabbed the back of the desk chair, spun it around so Tim was no longer facing the desk, and unceremoniously dumped him out of the seat. Tim squawked as he stumbled out of the chair, but regained his footing quickly and immediately trying to bolt back into the seat. Jason smirked and yanked it away, sending it rolling a few feet behind him.

“Whoops.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Real mature.”

Jason laid a hand over his heart and cocked his head to the side. “Ouch. You wound me. Truly.”

Tim glared at him, but his eyes flicked towards the desk chair behind Jason. They burst into motion at the same time – Tim lunging towards the chair, and Jason lunging towards Tim. After a brief tussle, Jason yanked Tim into a headlock, and for a brief second the two of them went eerily still. Jason loosened his grip, making the hold easy to break, but didn’t let go. Tim stayed frozen for a moment longer before tilting his head up, giving Jason a challenging look.

Jason’s mind warred with itself for a few moments. Not my little brother, one side of his brain said. Isn’t he, though? another replied. He had, unfortunately, filed away that information Dick had given him, as much as he tried to ignore it. And, well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it? He didn’t think he’d even given Tim back his Bat-noculars.

A moment passed, and Jason suddenly lunged, latching his free hand onto Tim’s side and squeezing away. Tim jerked in his grip, squealing as a smile forced its way onto his face. One hand went towards prying Jason’s off his side, while the other came and clutched at the forearm around his throat for stability. Jason grinned and allowed the hand to crawl up Tim’s side, carefully keeping his headlock loose so that Tim wouldn’t really feel trapped. The second Jason’s fingers touched his ribs and a real laugh jumped out from Tim’s throat, he was out of Jason’s grip in seconds. Tim stood across from him, giving him another one of those uncomfortably calculating looks, though the blush rushing to his cheeks diminished it slightly.

“Fine,” Tim said eventually. “I should head up and get a snack anyways.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. 

“But I’m coming back down in two hours, and I will be getting back to my case. Whether you’re done on the computer or not.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, sure thing, Timberly. Whatever you say.”

*     *     *

Jason was at the Manor for family dinner.

His skin itched at the thought as he sped into the Cave on his motorcycle – he never entered through the Manor proper, not in all these months, something about that just made it too real, too raw – and threw his riding gear off. Bruce was going to be there – not Batman, Bruce, and he hadn’t really interacted with the man outside the mask since he came back – but so were Dick and Alfred. And so was Tim.

Bit by bit, the kid had been relaxing around him. They worked cases together (and with Nightwing) when Hood needed a Bat, or when the birds needed his help instead. He didn’t tense whenever Jason came through the Cave anymore, didn’t eye Jason with suspicion when they crossed paths on patrol. He still stared a lot, but it’s not like Jason could blame him. He had attacked the kid, and even if he didn’t leave him with more than a concussion and some bruises (and Jason with a grudging sense of respect for the brat, as he walked away with his own array of bruising and a busted nose), the kid was well within his rights to keep his eyes on Jason’s movements.

But still, the progress they had made was, well, nice.

Speak of the devil — the Cave wasn’t empty. Tim was in the training area, dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, running his bo staff drills with a single-minded focus that could rival even Bruce. Jason almost would’ve thought that Tim didn’t realize he was there, but Tim’s eyes flicked his direction as he approached the edge of the training mats. Tim ran through the move he was doing a few more times, making minute posture changes each time until his form was perfect, before dropping out of his stance and facing Jason.

“Not bad,” Jason said.

Tim ticked up an eyebrow. “Thanks.” His gaze trailed over to the stairs. “Alfred’s still making dinner, and Bruce is up there brooding and fussing over everything until it’s perfect. You probably wanna stay down here until the food’s ready.”

The skin around Jason’s eyes tightened as he suppressed a wince. “Yeah, thanks. Where’s Golden Boy?”

The corner of Tim’s mouth twitched up. “He got saddled with ‘distract Bruce’ duty.”

Jason matched Tim’s half-smile. They lapsed into an awkward silence. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to fidget. Tim stared.

“Let’s spar,” Tim said suddenly, turning on his heel to set aside his bo staff.

Jason stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“Spar. You and me.”

“Are you sure about that, kid?”

Tim shot him one of those calculating looks over his shoulder. “Do you have anything better to do?”

Jason pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then let’s spar.”

Palms sweating, Jason kicked off his boots, shucked his leather jacket, and set aside the weapons he’d hidden on his person. He set himself up opposite of Tim, lowering his body into a fighting stance.

“Ready?” Tim asked.

“Yup.”

The word was barely out of Jason’s mouth before Tim lunged, immediately going in for a grapple. Jason almost laughed — he far outclassed the little Robin in both weight and strength — and quickly sent the kid sprawling to the mats before backing away. Tim was scowling when he stood up.

“Don’t go easy on me.”

“Don’t worry, Boy Wonder. I’m just getting warmed up.”

Tim lunged first again, feinting left before trying to circle around to Jason’s back on the right. Jason whipped around and blocked the incoming blows, jabs that would’ve left his arms numb and tingling for hours had they landed. On one block, he snagged Tim’s wrist and used it to twirl him halfway around. He shoved Tim forward, harder than he meant to, and let him stumble a few feet as he retreated again.

The spar went on like this for a while, Tim attacking and Jason blocking and retreating. Tim’s scowl got deeper and deeper, and the careful control he usually held in his movements started slipping more and more. After the tenth time Jason knocked Tim’s attack away and retreated, Tim finally snapped.

“Stop babying me! I can take it!”

“Tim—“

“No.” Tim fell back into a ready stance, face red and splotchy from frustration and exertion. “I know what it looks like when you’re fighting for real. So fight me.”

Jason pressed his lips into a thin line. “Fine.”

Jason rushed first this time, and Tim met him in the middle. They exchanged a series of blows (though Jason pulled his punches — this was a spar not a brawl, and he kinda thought Tim had enough of Jason punching his lights out by now), and Tim held his own well. He’d gotten some good hits in during their confrontation at Titan’s Tower, but it was clear he had improved since losing to Jason back then. If Tim had been in a better state, he might’ve been able to hold out against Jason’s onslaught for a while.

As it was, Tim had clearly been training for a while before Jason had come in and had already been fatigued, and his lingering frustration from Jason’s kid-gloves was obviously making him sloppy. With Jason’s bulk and sheer strength, he had Tim pinned to the ground in minutes. Tim grunted and growled and struggled under him, trying to free himself, but Jason had both his arms pinned above his head and had settled his bulk over Tim’s thighs so he couldn’t flip their positions or kick Jason off.

“Satisfied?” Jason asked dryly.

Tim didn’t reply, twisting his wrists to test Jason’s grip.

“Ready to hit the showers? Alfred probably won’t be happy if we come to dinner all drenched in sweat.”

Tim twisted his hips, trying to throw Jason off but unable to get the leverage to move his considerable weight. “No, fuck you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn, Timber, you kiss Alfred with that mouth?”

Tim paid him no mind, continuing to hiss and spit under him. Honestly, it reminded Jason a lot of when he was Robin. Whenever Dick beat him in a spar, he would hiss and spit and carry on, trying to break the hold until Dick got sick of his whining and—

Ah. So that was why Dick had been tickling the kid to tears the other month. 

Jason gave Tim a considering look. For a moment, he wondered if he really had the right. Tim wasn’t his little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. He’d been telling himself so for months, even if there were moments of doubt. But, well, wasn’t Tim his little brother? They snarked and tussled over the computer and helped each other on cases, and Jason was here to eat family dinner with him for God’s sake.

And hey, maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.

Amidst Tim’s struggling, Jason managed to wrangle both his wrists into one hand and pin them firmly above his head. Then, making sure Tim was watching, he hovered a hand over Tim’s stomach and slowly started wiggling his fingers.

Tim gasped and froze. Then, just as quickly, his struggles started up again with a new desperation.

“You wouldn’t.”

Jason grinned, lowering his wiggling fingers another inch. “Say uncle, Timmy.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, dragging his eyes away from the ticklish threat to meet Jason’s own. “Do your worst.”

Tim’s mouth clamped shut tight just as Jason’s lowered his hand and touched down on Tim’s stomach. Tim squeezed his eyes shut and squirmed, going pink in the face as he tried not to laugh.

Jason laughed for him. “Come on, TimTam, we both know you’re ticklish as shit. No point in not laughing.”

Tim shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to worm away to the left as Jason’s hand traveled to his right side.

“No, it doesn’t tickle? Are you sure?”

Even though his eyes were still closed, Tim turned his face away from Jason, trying to hide behind one of his biceps. Jason grinned wider and jumped his hand over to Tim’s other side, delivering a series of nibbling pinches without warning. Tim squeaked, like the little baby bird he was, and jolted to the right to try and get away.

“I dunno, Baby Bird. Seems like it might tickle.”

Tim made a growling noise in the back of his throat, and Jason couldn’t help but laugh again.

“No? Maybe we should make sure all your nerves are working right, then.”

Tim’s eyes snapped open at that, glassy and watery from the effort of holding back his laughter. Jason made sure to grin at him, smug and toothy and all evil-big-brother, just like Dick used to do to him.

“Tell me, can you feel this?”

His hand shot up and skittered calloused fingertips and blunt fingernails against the exposed side of Tim’s neck. Tim’s head snapped to that side with a muffled squeal, his smile fighting to become open-mouthed and toothy, forcing Tim to bite down on his lip to keep his reactions at bay.

“Hmm, seems promising. How ‘bout here, can you feel that?”

Jason shot back down and vibrated his hand into the center of Tim’s belly. Tim tried to jackknife to protect himself, but with his wrists firmly pinned and Jason’s considerable weight on his thighs, he was forced to stay flat against the mats. He chose to toss his head back against the mats instead, shaking it back and forth furiously.

“No?” Jason asked, voice dripping with faux-concern. “You can’t feel it?”

Tim let an annoyed little groan, but quickly cut it off as it started to take on a giggly tone. Jason was being deliberately unhelpful in the matter, poking his index finger into various spots of Tim’s stomach and vibrating it.

“Right here, can you feel this? What about over here? And here? Come on Timbit, work with me here.”

Tim flinched and twitched at every prod, trembling with suppressed giggles. Jason’s own cheeks hurt from smiling — he could definitely see why Dick tickled the snot out of him so often when he was a kid. This was adorable and hilarious. But he still had yet to make the kid break, which was kinda annoying. Like, hello, how was Jason supposed to tickle the snot out of him if he wouldn’t even laugh? Jason paused for a moment, letting Tim catch his breath as he planned his next attack. Now where was it that made Tim shoot out of his arms the other week…

Oh, that’s right.

Jason put on a mournful look, shaking his head. “Starting to get real concerned here, Timbourine. Maybe we oughtta do a full injury check.” Jason rested his fingers on Tim’s lower ribs. “What do you say?”

Tim gasped, shuffling as far away from Jason’s hand as he could, but Jason followed the movement easily.

“Jason—“ Tim started, but cut himself off, pressing his lips together again.

“What is it you said to me, again? Do my worst, was that it?”

“Jason, I’ll— I’ll buffer Bruce for you tonight. I’ll take on your caseload. I’ll clean your motorcycle, I—“

“As tempting as that all sounds,” Jason had to raise his voice to be heard over Tim’s rambling. “You know what I wanna hear. Admit you lost.” 

Tim’s mouth clamped shut. Of course. How could the latest model not come with that patented stubborn Robin pride?

Jason shrugged, tapping his fingers threateningly against Tim’s ribs, making him squirm. “Suit yourself.”

Jason wasn’t the greatest at picking apart Tim’s expressions, but he’d say the smile forcing its way across Tim’s face was almost giddy.

He started off with a typical injury-check touch, a light press and slide against the individual ribs, just to really play into the game he had set up. Tim’s face scrunched up instantly, obviously trying to hold back his reactions, and his body started squirming with a new fervor. 

“Nerves working here, Timmers?” Jason tickled his middle ribs a bit more deliberately, making Tim’s face spasm. “Seems to me like you might be feeling something. Does it tickle?”

Tim shook his head. Jason sighed.

“You leave me no choice.”

Jason released Tim’s wrists and latched onto either side of his ribs with both hands, tickling mercilessly. Tim’s eyes bugged out of his head as he let out a laugh bordering on a scream. His legs scrambled on the mats behind Jason, searching for leverage or freedom. As Tim’s laughter fell into desperate cackles, Jason couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Jason! Jay!”

“You know how to make it stop, Timmy.”

Even with his hands free, Jason was discovering that Tim was absolutely useless when he was tickled. Jason attacked lower on his ribcage and Tim’s hands latched onto Jason’s wrists in a feeble, laughter-weakened attempt to pry him off. That only opened up the rest of his ribcage and armpits to attack, which Jason took great advantage of. Tim’s laughter would get more panicky, more shrill, the higher Jason went, but his brain didn’t seem to know how to defend itself — seeing as his hands stayed latched onto Jason’s to try and pull him off.

“Jesus Christ, Baby Bird — how do you even live when you’re this ticklish?”

“Asshole!”

Jason raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure Tim could see it through his squinted, teary eyes. “Be nice. I could make this so much worse.”

“No, no!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Of course, Jason still made it worse anyway. There was a particular spot towards the back of Tim’s ribs, right between the top two on either side, that sent Tim spasming like he’d been electrocuted. Jason laughed as he prodded at the weak points one at a time, watching Tim toss himself in the opposite direction of the ticklish jolts. Finally, he gave Tim a breather, resting his fingers against those spots on his ribs just to keep him giggly and twitchy.

“Last chance for mercy,” Jason said, just barely twitching his fingers to watch Tim jump. “Alfred’ll send someone down soon.”

Tim’s teary eyes went wide. “Wait, Jason, come on–”

“Damn stubborn little Robin.”

Jason dug his fingers in, torturing those little tickle spots as best he could.

“Fuck!” Tim practically screamed before breaking into laughter that would give even the Joker a run for his money. Surprisingly, the hysterical tone of it didn’t even make Jason’s skin crawl. “Uncle!” Tim cried out, and his laughter went silent.

Jason eased up, redirecting his attack lower on Tim’s ribs, though still vibrating his fingers into the nerves mercilessly. “Hm? What was that?”

“You win! Uncle, you win! Jason, come on!”

With a chuckle, Jason heaved himself off of Tim to sit on the mats next to him, ruffling his hair as he caught his breath.

“Fuck you,” Tim said, closing his eyes and relaxing bonelessly into the mats.

“Hey.” Jason raised his hands in surrender. “You could’ve stopped that at any time. Not my fault you’re a stubborn little bitch.”

“I’ll get you for this.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got, like, a hundred pounds on you and I’m twice your height. How do you think you’re accomplishing that, shrimp?”

Tim peeled one eye open to glare at him. “I’ve got Dick.”

Jason froze. Oh, shit.

“That he does,” a cheerful voice chimed in from the direction of the stairs. Dick strode towards them, a slightly feral smile on his face. “And I would be more than happy to help. We never did test your claim about the Lazarus Pit taking away your ticklishness.”

Oh, fuck, actually. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Tim about Dick’s thighs that one time.

Dick’s smile shifted from feral to innocent in the blink of an eye. “But maybe later. Alfred sent me to get you for dinner – and I know he wouldn’t appreciate your B.O. stinking up the dinner table. Hit the showers.”

Jason groaned as he got up, pretending to crack his back even though he wasn’t the slightest bit sore from their sparring or impromptu tickle attack. Then, he reached down and hauled Tim to his feet, shoving him in the direction of the Cave’s locker room ahead of himself. Just as he went to follow, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Good job, big brother,” Dick said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t travel through the echoing cave. He gave Jason’s shoulder a squeeze.

Jason looked away and scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. Little shit was asking for it.”

Dick laughed and dropped his hand, shoving Jason toward the locker room much like Jason had shoved Tim. He tried not to think about it too hard, instead focusing on how carefully he’d have to watch his back in the future.

No way he was letting Timmy and Dickhead take him down without a fight.

[oliviaischillin1204]

"It's not fair, you're stronger than me"

Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it? Oh, that's right, giggle like a little baby while I hold your wrists above your head.

[oliviaischillin1204]

sixty years ago, on the 6th of june, a substance named @lovelynim was randomly spawned. receive this queued (since god knows when) thing for now, but know that when i'm more free, your [data deleted] shall be slapped with proper congratulations

[oliviaischillin1204]

Those little spots on your back and sides that cause you to arch and squirm when someone softly traces them?? Yeah that’s my shit.

[oliviaischillin1204]

She quietly breaks him 😩

[oliviaischillin1204]

Mr. L and Tickles

{fic inspired by this post by @coy-lee! I absolutely love the art they made of the bros and decided to write this!}

Luigi was feeling devious. Maybe it was wrong to do this to his brother considering what the outfit he’s about to put on may cause Mario major stress, but he hoped what he was going to do in the outfit would worry him less. Luigi put on the black shirt and pants, a green bandana around his neck, a mask on his eyes, and his green hat with a backwards L pin slapped over the regular L. He chuckled to himself as he pumped himself up for the prank.

Mario sat in the living room of the bro’s shared house watching tv completely unaware of what was about to happen.

“Hello, Mario..” Luigi- Mr. L said in a menacing voice.

Mario turned his head to behind the couch to the horrifying discovery. His brother had been taken over by his evil counterpart again.

He leapt up from the couch, “Luigi!?”

“Luigi’s not here anymore, only me! The better brother, and the superior brother! Especially superior to you..” Mr. L smirked. (Luigi tried not to laugh.)

“Get out of his head, now!”

“Oh, Mario.. I think you need to calm down a bit. Thankfully, I know just what to do!”

Mario backed away, not knowing what to do. He didn’t wanna hurt him or fight him. Mr. L walked towards Mario around the couch, hands behind his back.

“Luigi, listen, I know you’re in there, fight it please! Fight him! You’re stronger than him, you don’t have to do….. this?..” Mario’s voice faltered as he looked down to Mr. L’s hands.

He whipped them up from behind his back, and began wiggling his fingers, smiling. Mario backed up a bit quicker, completely confused. A blush rose in his cheeks from the motion.

“D-don’t take another step closer. I- I’m warning y-!”

Before Mario could finish that, Mr. L sped walked towards him, and his hands darted to Mario’s sides, scribbling them. Mario gasped, and tried to shove his hands away but they just kept coming back.

“W-WAIT- What are yohohou- you doing?!-” he felt a little smile form, but tried to keep his bubbling laughter down.

“Oh no.. what’s this? Is the hero of the mushroom kingdom a little.. ticklish?~” Mr. L teased.

“Nohoho- NO! I- I’m not! Q-quhihit that!” Mario giggled.

Try as he might, but somehow Mr. L was targeting his ticklish spots perfectly. Mario continued to try and get away, but he just kept following. Until Mario ended up hitting the wall. Then, L attacked.

He gently grabbed Mario away from the wall, turned them around, and pushed him to the ground by his shoulders. He quickly changed positions, grabbing Mario’s arms, pinning them above his head before sitting on them.

It all happened so fast, Mario barely had time to think about it.

“I’ve got you now, Mario!~” Mr. L teased.

“L- Lu! Think about what you’re doing! F-fight it, Luigi!” Mario pleaded.

“Oh I’ve thought about it, and I think Luigi would want me to do this rather than trying to hurt you, now, laugh!”

Mr. L went for Mario’s armpits first, wiggling his fingers in both of them.

“WAIT NOHOHOHO!! HAHAHAHA N-NOT THAT PLEHEHEASE! NO TI-TICKLES OH GOHOHOSH!!” Mario threw his head back instantly, giggling madly.

“Muwahaha! Yes tickles!! My what a ticklish hero you are!~”

Mr. L’s fingers skittered down Mario’s ribs, squeezing them rapidly, smiling genuinely at Mario’s laughter. His fingers landed on his tummy that was peeking out from his shirt sending Mario into hysterics.

“NOT THEHEHEHERE PLEHEHEASE HEHEHEAHAHAHA ITS SO BAD S-STAHAHAP!!”

Mario kicked his feet and twisted as much as he could, but couldn’t escape the determined fingers. Then a finger landed in his belly button and he let out a high pitched screech followed by more high pitched cackles and snorts.

“Ohoho seems I found a good spot! Hahaha, you’re doomed, Mario! Nowhere to go, can’t even cover up your tickle spots, you’re completely at my mercy! Tickle tickle!”

“Also while I have the upper hand here, I heard the silly little fight you bros had earlier and just wanted to remind you.. we both know who’s the superior jumper here, right bro?”

“WHY ARE YOHOHOU DOING THIHIHIS?! LUIHIHIHIGI F-FIGHT IHIHIT!! YOU’RE BRAIN WAHAHAHASHED! MEHEHERCY PLE- EHEHEHEHE!!!”

The fingers then skittered back up to his armpits and squeezed right below them occasionally switching to poke rapidly all over his upper body. Mario wheezed and screamed, kicking his feet and whipping his head around. He opened his tear filled eyes for a moment to see a soft smiling face looking down at him. He knew that smile was Luigi’s. It wasn’t evil, it was genuine and happy. Was Luigi pranking him just so he could do this? Mario couldn’t look any longer for he squeezed his eyes shut again letting out a loud snort as his belly was tickled again.

Luigi wanted to keep up the Mr. L persona for a bit longer just because it was fun, but Mario’s laughter went silent, so he decided to give him mercy.

As Mario recovered from the tickle attack, Mr. L removed his mask.

“Hehe! Just kidding, tadaaa!! It’s just Luigi haha!!” Luigi exclaimed, very proud of himself.

Mario brought his arms down when Luigi scooted off them. He panted, trying to get his breath back.

“Ah… just.. Luigi huh?..” he huffed, slightly unamused.

He slowly sat up, and turned his head to look at Luigi, “meno male.. that’s good news! That means you were in full control of yourself and knew exactly what you were doing the whole time..~”

Luigi gulped, “uh.. heheh y-yeah..”

Mario spun around, a wicked smirk on his face, “and you knew there would be consequences, right little bro?”

Luigi’s eyes widened, and he tried to get up and run, but Mario tackled him and straddled his legs.

“Wait, M-MaRIO I’M SORRY PLE-HEHEHE OH NOHOHO!” Luigi was cut off by Mario squeezing his ribs.

“How dare you trick me like that! What a cruel prank to play on your poor, innocent big brother! I’m sorry but you know the rules, fratellino.~ So if you wanna play, I’ll play too, Weegee!~” Mario teased as his little trickster brother wiggled in his grasp.

Mario went for Luigi’s belly, skating his fingers all over it, and going up his sides.

“Kitchy kitchy coo!! Aww what a ticklish little brother I have here!~”

Luigi threw his head back, snorting, “MAHAHAHA- HAHAHAHAHA!! NO MOHOHORE I’M SORRYHEHEHE!”

Mario just shook his head, smiling, then got an idea..

He scooted down on his legs a bit more, pulled up Luigi’s shirt, grabbed his arms pinning them, and blew a huge raspberry right on his belly button.

Luigi snapped his eyes open and absolutely screamed.

“MARIO N-NOT THEHEHEHEHERE! OH NOHOHOHO NO RASPBEHEHERRIES PLEHEHEASE!” Luigi pleaded with tears in his eyes.

Mario simply continued unloading raspberry after raspberry on Luigi’s tummy. Luigi kicked his legs as much as he could, but Mario had him pinned at the thighs making mobility difficult.

“Now, tell me who the best brother in the whole world is.. and I might give you mercy,~” Mario teased.

“Y-YOHOHOU ARE YOU AHAHAHARE PLEHEHEASE ITS SO BAHAHAHAD!!”

“Wow, that was quick, I don’t think you’ve ever surrendered that fast! Alright, alright, I’m done. Now, what did you learn?” Mario smiled.

Luigi huffed between loud giggles, “tohoho not prank yohohou..”

“Mhm. So, you won’t do it ever again right, bro?”

Luigi knew he was bound to get himself screwed with this, but, fuck it.

“…oh absolutely.. not! You’re so gullible it’s so easy to prank y- OHOHOU AAAA OKAY HAHAHA I’M SORRY I’M SORRYHEHEHE!!” as he expected, he was cut off by Mario digging into his hips.

Mario grinned as Luigi fell back into hysterics, “well, seems I’m not done with you, yet, Weeg. Round two for yoooou!~”

Luigi knew he would be there for a while.

[oliviaischillin1204]

Thinking about when I was getting tickled while tied down and they said something flustering and I got so embarrassed and tried to hide my red face into my arm and they said “No you don’t get to hide” and forced my arm down so they could see me

[oliviaischillin1204]

Ler Patton Lee Deceit - Patton accidentally brushes by Deceits scales and it sets Deceit into a fit of giggles. So Patton gets curious and starts to poke and stroke the patches of scales that are all over Deceits body. And Deceit secretly not so secretly enjoys this

Patton was cuddled up to Janus’s back. Janus had been cold, so they were ‘huddling for warmth’ which just meant really that Janus wanted to be little spoon. Which Patton didn’t mind at all.

But then Janus’s phone buzzed, and there was a little awkward shifting to turn off the timer.

“What was that?” Patton asked.

“Just a reminder that today is the day for scale care,” Janus said, wiggling back into place.

Patton let out a soft hum, and gently touched the scales on Janus’s cheek. To his surprise, Janus curled up in a fit of teeny giggles.

“Awww, does Janny have ticklish scales?” Patton asked, gently stroking the backs of his fingers against Janus’s cheek.

Janus shook his head, but his cute little giggles didn’t stop. Patton trailed his fingers down his cheek and to the scales on his neck. Janus let out a teeny high pitched squeal, rolling onto his back and shaking his head even more. But his face was all crinkled up with a happy smile.

Patton reached down to Janus’s hand, which he didn’t even try to take away, and slowly pulled his glove off.

“Ohhh, look! Here’s more little scales.”

Patton gently scratched the scales on Janus’s palm, and Janus covered his face with his other hand, soft, tittering giggles slipping out.

Patton just had to trail his fingers around gently, or softly scratch, and Janus’s giggles were so bright and happy. His hand started shaking and his fingers curled up if Patton moved to the more sensitive scales on his wrist, but if Patton stayed on his palm he even held his hand still.

Patton was having the best afternoon in a long time! He loved getting to tickle people, especially with such sweet reactions.

But he did stop after a bit. He didn’t want to take it so far that Janus got tired of it.

They cuddled back up, and it was a very pleasant, warm silence for a while.

“Patton?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think you could help me with the scale care tonight?”

The soft request, coupled with a small blush, could’ve broken down any resistance, and Patton thought it was the cutest thing in the world!

“Sure I can! Is that all you want?”

Janus’s blush darkened, and he ducked his head. “Can you do it… like you were?”

“Oh, you want more tickles?”

Janus nodded shyly.

“I’d love to, Janus.”

Janus sighed, letting out a lot of tension, and smiled.

[oliviaischillin1204]

Can you pretty please do lee!Virgil and ler Patton, Logan, and Roman. Virgil has a huge lee mood and is way to shy to ask to be tickled so he drop little hints to try and get tickles( more like Virgil being an a** and a bratty little sh*t). The sides act like they don’t know what he want, but do. So they force him to ask

They all knew. It was quite obvious. Virgil was in a lee mood.

But today, for some reason, they were all being incredibly mean to him. Virgil sat on the couch, frowning intensely and blushing as Roman tickled Patton right in front of him.

Patton was giggling and snorting and squealing as Roman squished his belly, pure happiness on his face as he rolled back and forth. “Up! Uhuhup!”

Roman spidered his fingers up to Patton’s ribs, and Patton squealed even louder, kicking his feet.

“Do you like that, Patton?” Roman asked teasingly.

“Yehehehes!” Patton said through a million giggles.

Virgil curled in on himself, incredibly jealous. He knew what they were going for too. They were trying to make him ask. Which was just mean.

But butterflies grew in his belly, and tingles raced along his skin, and he wanted.

Eventually Patton had had enough, pulling Roman into a hug right there on the ground, still letting out a few giggles every here and there.

And then they both looked at him, and Virgil blushed right up to his ears. He knew. And they knew. But he couldn’t just ask! It wasn’t like it was some simple thing, just asking for tickles!

And he’d already done so much! His hoodie was in his room, leaving only a shirt to protect his sides and belly. And he was walking around in socked feet, and then had taken even those off too! He’d been trying poking them, but that hadn’t worked at all. He even changed into shorts, but apparently that wasn’t enough either. and even the best teasing he’d fished out all day hadn’t been enough.

Mean.

They were all very, very mean.

So he got up and walked away. He’d hoped that maybe one of them would chase after him. Tickle the bad attitude right out of him. But they didn’t.

He definitely wasn’t pouting. They were just mean.

••^*^••

He did come back out for lunch though, even though they were all staring at him. His lee mood hadn’t lessened any either, if anything, it had just gotten stronger.

“It seems you are in a bad mood today,” Logan commented. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

Virgil’s brows furrowed. Mean. Mean and cruel, they all were. Making him say it and not even helping at all.

His mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Patton finally had mercy, and set a hand on his arm. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, Virge. We already know, you just have to ask.”

Virgil was nearly at a breaking point, and he clutched at Patton’s hand like it was a lifeline, giving him the best puppy eyes he could manage. “Please?”

Patton’s face melted, but then Logan had to but in with some of Virgil’s most hated words. “Please what?”

Virgil ignored Logan, keeping up the puppy eye assault on Patton. And it was working too. Patton was getting closer and closer to giving in. “Come on, Lo, he already asked please.”

“Oh, he asked very nicely,” Roman said. “But for what? I really have no idea.”

Virgil held Patton’s hand in both of his, drooping his shoulders and looking pitiful. “Please, Patton?”

Patton was so close to breaking. So close to grabbing Virgil in a hug, and once he was in a hug, it was only a matter of time before he got tickles. But then out of nowhere he straightened. “No. You can’t just tease us into tickling you all the time. You have to learn how to ask.”

Virgil slumped. “Fine.” His ears grew hot again, and he couldn’t really handle looking at them directly. “Please ti— tickle me. I-I’d really like the squishing kind, like Roman was giving Patton earlier.” His shoulders had hunched up, and his face felt so hot it must be very brightly red.

Patton swamped him in a hug. “We’d love to!”

Logan and Roman joined the group hug, pinning him between the three of them. And then a hand squeezed over his hip, and he jumped, letting out a yelp that quickly turned to a laugh. Another hand found his belly, and another his knee, and soon Virgil was laughing loud and helplessly.

[oliviaischillin1204]

I was wondering if you could do something where Virgil gets stuck somewhere and the twins find him and team up to take advantage of the situation? Thank you in advance, your work is amazing!

Warning: Intense tickles, maybe you could say bondage? It’s just the rope trap and Virgil’s own shirt

Of all the things to happen in the imagination. And of all the people for them to happen to, it happened to be Anxiety, caught in a trap.

It was a simple rope trap, snagging his ankles and jerking him upside down, hidden well enough that even with all his wariness he hadn’t seen it.

“I don’t even hardly go in the imagination and then the one time I do I get stuck,” Virgil grumbled.

He’d tried to get out, twisting and thrashing and grabbing, but it didn’t do any good. He was lucky he wasn’t human, or the blood rush to his head would’ve become painful. As it was, he was just exhausted from thrashing and very very bored of being stuck.

And then he heard footsteps.

His heart beat faster, worried that the Hunter had arrived. He wasn’t sure what the imaginary hunter might do, but he was still more than nervous.

“Ohhh~ look what we have here~” a very familiar voice said.

“Remus,” Virgil sighed, relieved. “I’m glad you’re here, can you let me down?”

Remus walked around in front of him. “But I caught you~”

Remus made a summoning motion, and Roman rose up. “Look what I caught, Ro~ weren’t you just saying earlier you wished you could find someone a little stuck for a few pokes~?”

A few pokes… Virgil’s face went red and he covered his stomach.

Roman grinned at his reaction. “I did say that, didn’t I? Maybe there’s a reason this little Stormcloud let himself get caught, hmm?”

“I-I didn’t! Not for— not on purpose!” And he hadn’t, truly, had anything of the kind in mind when he’d wandered into the imagination. Now though, presented with two grinning Lers, butterflies were growing in his belly.

Remus sat down in front of Virgil’s face, tugging surprisingly gently at his arms. Virgil had already spent his energy on thrashing earlier, and didn’t have much fight left in him to resist. His arms were pulled down, so they dangled straight, which made his shirt flip up over his face.

Roman moved his shirt so he could look him in the eyes, more serious now. “You can say no, now or anytime.”

Virgil blushed at having to admit he wanted to be tickled now, even just by not saying no. “Thanks,” he mumbled, biting his lip.

Roman grinned, evil and hungry looking, dropping Virgil’s shirt to cover his face again.

Virgil squirmed, the skin on his exposed torso tingling in anticipation. Remus held both his wrists easily in one hand, leaving three hands and a whole imagination’s worth of tools ready to tickle Virgil at any moment.

Fingers lightly touched his ribs, and Virgil jolted and squeaked.

There was a dark chuckle from one of the twins.

The fingers scribbled lightly, and Virgil burst into giggles.

“I want to keep him forever~” Remus said. “He’s mine, I caught him, and I get to tickle him for ever and ever, hours at a time~”

Virgil squealed as the scribbling fingers reached one armpit and scribbled even faster.

“I love the idea~ so long as you share your prize sometimes~” Roman teased.

Virgil felt two hands grip his hips, and squirmed hard, his giggles ratcheting up to laughter just from the anticipation of tickles on his hips and belly. The two hands held him still as a long, loud raspberry was blown directly onto his bellybutton.

Virgil squealed and laughed helplessly, already his squirming not working to help him, as tired as his muscles were and weak from laughter.

Remus seemed to understand how incapable he was of protecting his weak points, and let go of his wrists, attacking both armpits at once.

Virgil cackled and laughed, squealing again when Roman blew another raspberry on his belly.

Roman squeezed and scribbled at his hips, blowing many small raspberries all over his belly. Remus’s hands crawled up to taze his ribs, and Virgil was lost in laughter, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Then they stopped, both at the same time, letting Virgil catch his breath.

“I have a game for you~” Roman said. “Guess correctly where we tickle next, and you get a little break. Guess incorrectly, and we tickle you till you squeal~”

Virgil wouldn’t know. He couldn’t see past his shirt. He was going to get so tickled, he knew it. Excitement bubbled up in him, nearly making him giggle even without any tickles.

“My turn first then!” Remus said, sounding as excited as Virgil was. “Where am I gonna tickle, giggly darkling~?”

Virgil’s mind went to the sensation of Remus’s fingers in his armpits, and on his ribs, and his sides, and each spot tingled, nearly tickling already. He didn’t know. Didn’t have a way of knowing.

“Come on, you can guess~” Remus teased. “It’ll only tickle so much when you get it wrong~”

Virgil could barely keep the giggles at bay. “A-armpits.”

“Wrong!” Remus said gleefully, tazing and scribbling at Virgil’s ribs.

Virgil laughed and squirmed, jolts of tickly sensation running through him. And then Remus started nuzzling, his mustache rubbing against the sensitive skin on one side, while both his hands were free to taze into the other. Virgil squealed, trying to push Remus away, but his arms were far too weak.

A few more seconds that felt more like hours later, Remus stopped, rubbing soothingly as Virgil hiccuped and giggled, trying to get his breath back.

“Where will I tickle you~?” Roman asked, before Virgil had gotten his breath back.

That was right, the correct guesses were for breaks. He was glad they still paused for a little, rather than Roman asking while he was still laughing his head off.

“Behehelly,” Virgil guessed.

“Nope~!” Roman said.

Virgil wasn’t sure then where he was going to go. Belly was a wide guess, even sides and hips were sort of counted in it.

And then a hand squeezed at his thigh. Virgil yelped embarrassingly loudly.

“Surprised you with a tickly spot~” Roman cooed. “Get ready to squeal~”

Roman scribbled lightly along the backs of Virgil’s thighs, and Virgil couldn’t help laughing. But then he squeezed again, just above his knee on his left leg, and finding that awful horrible amazingly ticklish tendon on the right.

Virgil squealed and shrieked in laughter, his body jerking with more energy than he thought he had left. Roman kept going a bit longer than Remus had after the first squeal, and when he finally stopped Virgil went nearly limp, gasping for air.

“You ready to be done?” Remus whispered in a more serious tone.

“Can—“ Virgil gasped. “After a break… can I have more belly tickles.. before done? A— a lot?”

He was glad for the shirt hiding his face, as he blushed dark.

Remus hugged him suddenly. “We’d love to.”

“Awwww~” Roman cooed. “Such a tickle-hungry lee~”

Virgil blushed even darker.

“Since the lee wants a lot, I want to use tools!” Remus said excitedly.

“Oh yes~” Roman agreed. “Brushy tools particularly~”

Virgil squirmed, barely biting back the whine.

“What if one of us tickles the belly, and the other gets to focus all their attention on the button~?” Remus asked.

Roman’s chuckle was pure evil. “Yes.”

Virgil did whine that time. “Don’t tease!”

“Don’t tease~?” Roman asked. “Us, not teasing our sweet captured lee? Impossible~”

“It makes all the tickles tickle more, doesn’t it~?” Remus said knowingly. “So when we scribble at your belly it’ll be all tingly and ready to burst with laughs and giggles~! It’s so perfectly stretched out for us too~ with no way of getting away or curling up~ just waiting for us to play with it just how we like~”

Virgil whined and squirmed.

“I think if he’s able to whine he’s able to be tickled, don’t you?” Roman asked.

“Oh yes!” Remus agreed, and suddenly Virgil could hear the sound of buzzing.

He squirmed and whined, twisting back and forth.

Hands grabbed his hips again. “I guess I’ll have to use some magic to tickle the button, if I have to hold you still~” Remus teased.

Something liquid touched his belly, and Virgil gasped. A hand spread the oil slowly over his belly and poked into his bellybutton, making him squeak.

“You ready for a lot of tickles~?” Roman teased. “Actually wait~” he bent down and tapped Virgil’s chest and his throat gently. “Don’t want you running out of air, and now you can’t!”

They were going to tickle him till he went insane!

“The little button gets the first tickle~” Remus said, brushing circles around Virgil’s bellybutton with an electric toothbrush as Virgil shrieked with laughter.

Roman scribbled around the rest of his belly and sides, often blowing raspberries.

Remus quickly went from circling to dipping the brush into Virgil’s bellybutton.

Virgil couldn’t stand it! It tickled so bad! It was like his brain floated away from his body, leaving only sensation and laughter. Squeals and shrieks were pulled from him by the two tormenting his belly. He never wanted it to stop. Nothing mattered in the slightest except the fireworks of tickles constantly being set off. He didn’t even have to worry about catching his breath.

And then Roman decided it was his turn to start using electric toothbrushes, far more than two hands could hold, and Remus was also squeezing sporadically at Virgil’s hips.

All his laughter became a silent scream, the sensations starting to blend together, his whole belly a tickle spot.

He managed to bump one arm against Roman’s leg.

The two stopped immediately. Remus rubbed his belly gently, and Roman helped to very gently and carefully get him down.

The forest faded away, replaced by a cool, dim room and a very soft bed.

Virgil felt all glowy, still riding the high from all the tickles. One of them offered him some water, and the other laid beside him, rubbing gently up and down his arms.

“Did you have fun?” Roman asked quietly, his tone hesitant and almost worried.

“So much fun,” Virgil said, a grin still on his face as he hugged Roman.

Remus hopped into the bed behind him, hugging also and running his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“If I get this kind of treatment every time, I’ll start looking for traps in the imagination…” Virgil said sleepily.

“I’ll make some just for you,” Remus said immediately. “Anytime you want.”

Virgil leaned his head into Remus’s hand, weakly tugging Roman a bit closer. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Roman’s knuckles brushed against his cheek. “You can sleep, Emo.”

Virgil drifted off, still floaty and happy. “You two are the best…”

[oliviaischillin1204]

The Spider

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- Dear, thanks for giving me ideas, I will play some more on this beautiful spot.

.

MINORS DNI

[oliviaischillin1204]

Calming A Fawn.

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platonic radiorose fic for my gigglefawn of a friend @justaticklishdeer !(you’re welcome, baby buck<3)

lee! alastor + ler! rosie

note : I’ve NEVER wrote rosie, and I’ve rarely wrote alastor. if they’re out of character.. uh.. whoops.

anyway, enjoy!

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Alastor had been having a.. pretty shit day to day the absolute least. everything and everyone had been ticking him off in the worst way possible. so, what better to attempt to calm down then to go visit his good pal, rosie!

he hadn’t been to see her in a long while, being busy with hotel things that he’s rather not talk about. so he hadn’t had much time to visit the cannibal unfortunately.

he strutted down the sidewalk of cannibal town, making his was to Rosie’s emporium, the atmosphere of the cannibal town itself brought him much joy. why? who’s to say. maybe the fact that there were plenty of cannibals around snacking away on human flesh.. brought him true delight! but, besides that. he was overall jolly to see rosie, she always had her ways of brightening his day.

he opened the doors of Rosie’s emporium, walking in nonchalantly as if he wasn’t bouncing off the walls on the inside. he made his way further into the building, looking around at anything new Rosie had put out— until he heard said girls enthusiastic voice.

“Alastor!!” Rosie cheered out, happily speed walking over to him.

alastors already grinning face turners into a soft smile.

the cannibal hugged alastor ever so tightly, making the fawn bleat in pure joy.

“how happy I am to see you!” Rosie squeaked out.

“could say the same for you, my dear.” Alastor spoke in his monotone voice, rather swell at hiding his excitement.. despite his awful mood.

“come in, come in! make yourself comfortable!” Rosie practically dragged alastor into the back of her emporium, sitting him down on a small sofa. sitting down right beside him.

Alastor didn’t fight it, he enjoyed being around Rosie that much. she was helping his mood lighten up already.

“so, whatcha been up to, my darling?” Rosie asked, smiling ear to ear.

alastor took a minute to respond, thinking wether or not to say the truth, or lie.. hm.

“I’ve been doing dandy as always!” lie. immediate lie. he didn’t wanna bring rosie down with his low. that’d be cruel!.. well.. as if he wasn’t cruel already. BESIDES THE POINT.

rosie hummed, glancing over alastors facial expressions. she could read him like a book. that forever lasting smile wouldn’t fool her.

“ya sure? you seem a bit down in the dumps, ally.” rosie poked alastors side softly.

the deer tensed up, a small screech of radio static leaving him. oh my Lucifer, was she really doing this? NOW?.. well.. maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’m fine.” Alastor said as he pushed Rosie’s hand away, his grin twitching.

Rosie’s eyes narrowed. “Hm. I don’t believe that. you can talk to me, my love. I’m all ears!” Rosie reassured.

Alastor hesitated before snapping back “it’s nothing. I’m perfectly- HNGH-!” Alastor tensed again as he felt Rosie’s nail slightly dig into his side.

“if you won’t tell me, I guess I’ll just have to make ya, huh?” rosie replied, digging her nails into alastors side.

Alastor held back a laugh, holding back as much as he could. “r-rosie-! dohont- I’m fihine!” Alastor said with gritted teeth.

“you aren’t yourself, trust me. I can tell!” Rosie argued, continuing as if it was absolutely nothing. “you can talk to me, hun. I’m always available!” Rosie reassured once again.

Alastor normally wouldn’t crack this easily, but this(for some god forsaken reason) was amazing. maybe, if he told her.. she’d continue to make him feel better? if he was lucky enough.

“alrihight!- ALRIGHT!!- I’ve juhust been annohoyed recently!- ihits not that big of a deheheal!-“ alastor giggled out.

rosie slowed down for a moment, letting him speak some more. “how so?”

Alastor caught his breath, then spoke once again. “juhust.. been more bother than usual, I suppose? everything’s been a lot more irritating lately. suppose I’m just going through some.. thing. not sure what.” he was confused with his own emotions, such a complicated thing.

rosie nodded, thinking for a moment. “ahh, I’m sorry, Al.” she said, GENUINELY feeling bad.. but she couldn’t help but continue. digging her fingers back into alastors side slowly.

Alastor was caught offguard, letting out a fawn bleat mixed with a surprised giggle. “seheriously?!-“ Alastor giggled out.

“what? don’t ya wanna feel better? I’m helpin’ you out, gigglefawn!” rosie said gleefully.

alastor felt his face heat up at the nickname, god.. he wasn’t gonna last. “dohont call mehe tha- KEHAHA!-“ Alastor choked out a laugh when he felt Rosie’s other hand go for his tummy.

“why not? it’s clear that you love it! I mean, look at ya! you’re practically redder than a tomato~!” rosie teased, scribbling a little rougher.

alastor fell onto his back, which was already gonna fuck him over. he knew that. why else would he have let it happen?

“gehehet- awahay!-“ Alastor kicked his legs out, giggling like a five year old.

Rosie pushed his legs down long enough so she could straddle his hips, getting comfortable while still attacking alastors side and tummy.

“nuh uh! not happening, tickle fawn~! I’m gonna tickle you whether you fight or not! you’re just too cute to resist~” Rosie tapped alastors nose before ruthlessly drilling her nails into alastors hips.

Alastors eyes widened and he let out a loud fawn bleat, if his tail wasn’t wagging before— it was surely wagging now. “ROHOSIE NAHHAOO!-“ alastor squeaked, thrashing around and kicking his hooves.

“rosie yes! cmon, you know you’re enjoying this! I’m just helpin’ a friend out, what’s the harm in that?” rosie smiled innocently down at alastor as she was wrecking his shit.

“THIHIS ISNT HEHELPING!! yohou’re EHEVIL!-“ Alastor shook his head back and forth, his giggles high pitched. though, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love this. helping? ..maybe. perchance..(yes). and rosie knew that, she knew him way too well. he was 100% enjoying this. he would’ve reacted differently if he didn’t!

Rosie gently grabbed alastors chin and tilted it downward so he’d be looking at his torso where she was tickling. “you should stay a little more still, my fawn. wouldn’t wanna miss out, would you? it’s quite the show!” Rosie grinned.

Alastors face got even hotter, he let out a nervous giggle. “whyhy?! Ihim fine without dohoing so thank yohou!” Alastor argued.

“no, no. I insist! you must watch, it’d be a waste if not.” Rosie slowly let go of alastors chin, resting her hands on his sides just below his armpits. “keep your eyes down here, Al!”

Alastor took a deep breath, slightly shaking with anticipation. “I dohoHONT-“ he got cut off when rosie moved her hands up to his armpits, drilling her nails into them.

he attempted to keep his eye looking, giggling his absolute ASS off. he couldn’t take it, after about a minute tops he looked away. when he did so, he felt rosie immediately stop.

Alastor spoke before he could even think about what he was gonna say “why’d yohou stohop?-“ Alastor asked softly.

Rosie smiled smugly, then switched to a fake serious expression. “you looked away! I had to! that’s the rules!” rosie shrugged.

“whahat- whahat rules?! thahat preposter-“

“I told you, you can’t look away! it’s the rules! ya should’ve listened!” rosie shrugged again, more dramatically.

alastor took a moment, then let out a shakey sigh. “a-alright! I will just- mmh.” he didn’t wanna tell her to keep going.. that’d be embarrassing!

“just.. what? hm?” rosie asked in a teasy tone.

alastor let out a groan, looking to the side before speaking. “just keep going.” he muttered.

“a little louder, dear! I don’t have the greatest hearing!” rosie said, though it was completely false. she just wanted to fluster him even more than he already was. it was adorable! who’d wanna miss it?

Alastor let out an irritated yet embarrassed groan once again, then spoke clearly yet quickly. “JUST KEEP TICKLING ME WOMAN.” Alastor snapped, then immediately regretted it when he felt rosie automatically start up again.

“well, why didn’t you just say so?” rosie grinned, digging into alastors armpits once again.

Alastor let out a squeal he’d never admit to making. but he kept his eyes on Rosie’s hands this time, even though it was extremely hard and EXTREMELY FLUSTERING. he did it! yay!

“muhust you behehehe so rOHOUGH?!-“ Alastor squeaked out, giggling like a maniac.

“would you rather me go slower? I can do so!” rosie slowed her tickling, skittering her nails down from alastors armpits to alastors sides. which was somehow.. way worse.

alastor resisted the urge to close his eyes or look away, barely making an effort. he kicked his hooves out and scrunched his shoulders up. grabbing Rosie’s wrists in a fake attempt to stop her. “ohokay-! OKAHAHY!- yohou’ve mahade your POHOINT!” Alastor screeched out with bubbly giggles, a sound no other demon could even dream of him making.

“aawh. does it tickle, honeybuck? I’m sure it does~! tiiickle tickle tickle~! aren’t you just the cutest fawn ever! yes you aaare!” Rosie cooed next to alastors ear, making it twitch.

Alastors face was practically in flames with how hot it was. my LUCIFER this woman was gonna be the double death of him.

“shuhut UHUP!- yohou blasted- kehHEHA!-“ Alastor immediately shut his mouth when he felt Rosie’s nails scribble up his fluffy belly, making him squirm all about.

“that’s not very nice, al. I’d watch your tone if I were you.” Rosie warned, scribbling slowly along alastors tummy, which seemed to be much more effective than the rough tickles for SOME reason.

Alastor felt the sudden urge to just give in and curl into a shy and flustered ball. why? WHO THE HELL KNOWS. he just did. he was genuinely so tickle drunk right now, it was heaven HELL.

he kept his eyes on Rosie’s hands, sucking his tummy in involuntarily. “plehease!- I cahant-“ Alastor wheeze out, tilting his head down slightly.

“can’t what, featherfawn? hmm? it can’t tickle that bad, I’m hardly doing anything!” Rosie taunted, grinning ear to ear.

Rosie scooted back a little, using one hand to continue on alastors belly while the other began taking off his boot.

alastors eyes widened when he saw rosie reach towards his boot. “rohosie- rosie!- dohont you dahare! I swehear to sahatan-“ Alastor said with a panicked giggle.

rosie didn’t listen, taking off his boot and tossing it to the side. “goodness me, Alastor. you need to take care of these hooves a little more! they look absolutely horrendous.” Rosie judged freely.

“they’re MY hooves to care for. don’t judge my habits!” Alastor snapped, though it came out as more of a whine.

Rosie shook her head, moving down to sit across alastors legs— knowing him, she’d need to.

Alastor was PANICKING. besides his tummy, his hooves were one of his worst spots. “rohosie- can’t we talk abou- about thihis?! I’m sure theheres anothEHER!-“ Alastor squealed when he felt rosie scribble her nails along the bottom of alastors hoove.

Alastor attempted to kick, but it didn’t work out. he tried to squirm away! ..also didn’t work. this was hopeless. he was stuck! forever! AAAAA!!

rosie glanced at alastor, smiling “innocently” at alastor’s panicked smile, giggling at him. “something wrong~?” rosie teased.

“obvihihiously!!- yohou-! hhehehe-“ alastor just giggled. it was honestly the most silliest laugh ever! rosie could feel her own heart melting at the sight.

she slowly drug her nails along alastors mildly ticklish hoove, grinning happily as she did so! what an evil woman. “figured! aren’t you just the most ticklish thing? such an adorable laugh too. this was a wonderful idea, was it not?” rosie said cheerfully.

alastor hesitantly nodded. no words! just nods. nods and giggles. it was truely a cute sight.

rosie thought for a moment, then got a brilliant idea. stopping for a moment and taking off her hat.

Alastor caught his breath, looking at rosie with confusion. that was until she took the feather off of her hat then put it back on. shit. shitshitSHIT-

“wahait- waitwaitwaitwait rohosie you don’t hahave to do THIHIHIS!- EEHEHEHEHEHEH!-“ Alastor squealed with a fawn bleat as he felt Rosie brushed the feather back and forth against his hoove. he had immediately broke eye contact and threw his head back. though, rosie didn’t care much anymore, she was five times more ecstatic at alastors happy giggles more than the “rule” itself.

“goodness, you really have a weak spot for feather tickles, don’t you?” Rosie commented, smiled up at alastor from where she was sitting. on the other hand.. Alastor was cackling his ass off. unable to answer.

Rosie snickered. “no response, huh? what a shame.” Rosie sighed dramatically.. then started her teasing again. “tiiickle tickle tickle..~ kitchy kitchy koo~!”

Alastor yelled out the best response he could. “QUIHIET!!-“ wow.. so effective!

“sorry, gigglefawn! that’s not in my dictionary! no clue what it means!” Rosie said sarcastically, running the feather inbetween the line that separated the to halves of alastors hoove, making him choke on his laughter. genuine tears running down his face.

Alastor finally gave in, turning on his side and curling up like a fawn. giggling into his own arms.

Rosie could DIE at how adorable he looked in that position, she softly continued. brushing the feather back and forth on his hoove— then slowly trailing it up alastors leg and over to his side. making his back arch and his side curl inward slightly. squeak like giggles escaping him along with a couple of bleats.

rosie moved beside him again, gently trailing the feather along his side.

alastor moved to lay on Rosie’s lap, just taking the tickles at this point. it was comforting.

rosie scratched behind alastors deer ear, making him giggle just a tad more. his laughter falling into soft snickers. Rosie now tickling his tummy with the feather and his ear with her nails.

“you feel any better, sweetheart?” rosie asked

“muhuch.” Alastor replied with another giggle.

[oliviaischillin1204]

ok i ate with this actually, like i was so fucking correct JDFHGFHDJFHDJ

Which three sides from Sanders Sides would you choose to wreck with tickles, have an evenly two-sided tickle fight with, and tickle you into oblivion? And why?

ok in hindsight i misread this ask a bit akdhsj but it resulted in me adding a bit extra content so it's all good

3 Sides I'd wreck w tickles: VIRGIL first and foremost. i want to wreck that boy so so so badly. that is my biggest dream and is the reason i got into sasi tfic (which makes sense considering i got started via dani's fics). he would be so weak and so adorable and so embarrassed by it all i would wreck him. then also each of the creativitwins: Remus bc i wanna make the big bad scary crazy side giggle like a kid, and Roman bc i wanna make the big strong brave side... giggle like a kid KJDFHDJSDHFD

2 Sides I'd have an even tickle fight with: Patton for one, bc he'd be such a silly ler and would be so freaking good at it, and he's cute and soft and would be very ticklish and have a very cute laugh. Janus for a similar reason as the twins, bc i wanna make him lose it in a very out-of-character way, but also i think his attitude as a ler would be particularly enjoyable for me.

1 Side I'd have wreck me: Logan tbh. i just think, if he were being v stoic about the whole thing, it would actually absolutely get me. of course the stoicness mixed in w playfulness is important too, and i think he would get into the whole vibe of it. sorry this is so weirdly worded im just thinking abt it now and i like it JDFHDJS