#baldurs gate 3 tickling

[spesiria]

Back on my Durgetash bullshit. I'm very patiently waiting for patch 8 to come out to do my definitive Dark Urge run. In the meantime I have so many thoughts and little stories about them running through my head. Hopefully I'll find more time soon to write and/or draw some of it.

I actually enjoy the Gortash face that I drew here, so I'm including a close up.

[palaceoftheprophets]

An upcoming doubled-sided charm that’ll I’ll be debuting at ECCC (…if it arrives in time 😅)

I’d like to eventually do all the companions if there’s interest in them/ when I have more time

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: Scenarios in which you find out just how ... ticklish some of your companions are.

Featuring: Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale, Astarion and Lae'zel.

Genres: Humour, fluff, crack.

Slight Tav/Shadowheart and Tav/Astarion. Tav is a menace.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

(Readers, have some mindless fluff. Work has broken my mind and this is all I can write.)

Wyll: The Crab

The moment he'd emerged from his tent that morning, Gale had surveyed the clear skies, the promise of truly spectacular weather, and declared that today would be the day for cooking up a batch of fresh catch.

So it was that you had found yourself at the docks, strolling past hawkers displaying rows and rows of tempting sea harvest. From beneath the canvas awnings, scales and fins of fish gleamed, empty eyes turned skyward, bellies sliced open to display the pure white flesh underneath.

At your side, Wyll paced along, arms swinging slightly, a faint smile on his face as he took in the familiar sights and scents. He had volunteered to accompany you, to help carry the load of produce that you would inevitably purchase.

Rounding the corner, your fingers closed on his arm, tugging excitedly.

"Oh, it's been a while since I've seen deep sea emerald crab! And just look at how perfect they are!"

Piled high in a basin, the shells of the crabs shone with jewel-like lustre. In no time, taking advantage of this rare opportunity, you had paid off the fishmonger and your precious cargo of crab had been safely enclosed and tied up in netting.

"Here."

You handed over the bag to Wyll.

"Hold that. I'll look around for some mussels and sea bream. Can't have a feast without those."

Wyll took the bag, but you noticed his slight reluctance. Cocking an eyebrow, you received his hasty acknowledgement.

"Oh, no problem. You go on ahead."

Strutting further down the walkway, you shot a brief glance back at Wyll. He was holding the bad of crabs at arms length, obviously trying to be subtle.

What was that all about?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sight of some large scallops, of stunning quality, and you promptly forgot about Wyll's strange aversion to crabs.

A half hour later, you were happily making your way back to camp, pack laden with more goods, when you heard a strange noise from Wyll. Turning, you saw that he'd been forced to carry the crabs tucked under an arm, his shoulders occupied with the other baskets.

"Everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."

"Then what - "

Before you managed to complete your sentence, Wyll let out an explosive wheeze. He doubled over abruptly and you dropped your pack in concern as you hurried over to him.

"Wyll!"

He raised a hand, palm out, stopping your advance.

"N - Nothing to wo - worry 'bout, I - I assure- "

Another sudden explosive breath, his hands tugging the crabs away from him. It was then that you noticed that the legs of the crustaceans were still moving, in slightly jerky fashion. They weren't alive, some remnant of muscle memory causing their strange dance.

And it seemed that Wyll could not handle the sensation of it along his stomach.

You paused, a slow grin forming.

"Wait, are you - "

"N - Not what you think - "

Your hand came to rest on your chin.

"Oh, but Wyll, I rather think it is."

"C - Can you not - "

"Tell the others that a crab tickled your fancy? If you compensate me enough, I might be tempted."

He gazed up at you, something like defeat in his expression as your smile grew wider.

"H - Horns don't make a devil, it seems."

Shadowheart: Cliffhangers

There was a specific kind of enemy that grated on your nerves more than any other; the flying kind.

Butterflies and brightly feathered birds were all well and good, but summoned mud mephits and their greasy counterparts were deserving of a special place in Avernus as far as you were concerned.

Such were the thoughts cluttering your mind as you clung to the side of a cliff, the path that had wound along its edge now narrowing to little more than a foot-span.

You'd managed to use your arrows as makeshift climbing spikes, the muscles of your shoulders screaming in protest each time you stabbed a steel head into the rock, clinging on for dear life. The flapping and constant harassment of the mephits just made things exponentially worse.

Edging your way forward, you managed to turn your head slightly to see how Shadowheart was faring. She had slipped and lost a shoe a few yards back, the unfortunate item tumbling all the way down to the foam-clad rocks that jutted from the sea below. A terrifying sight indeed.

Just when you thought that things couldn't possibly get any worse, the terrain of the narrow ledge beneath your feet took on a different texture. Glancing down, you paused and let out a groan.

"What? What is it?" came Shadowheart's tight query. It sounded as if her teeth had been ground to dust from all the tension.

"Just watch your footing here. There's some kind of sentient moss. It's... wavy. Looks a bit slippery."

Shadowheart muttered something that was carried away by the wind and the flapping of the mud mephits. You knew your warning had been heard, so you continued edging your way forward. The moss was soft beneath the soles of your boots, giving way and then springing back up as you passed. Fortunately, it wasn't excessively damp.

As you edged forward, lips moving in a chant designed to keep your concentration, you heard a low noise come from Shadowheart, something like a soft squeal of protest. Whipping your head around, you saw that her eyes were squeezed shut, mouth puckered and trembling.

"What's wrong? Shadowheart?"

She didn't reply, but remained stationary, panic now evident on her face. Her whole body gave a spasmodic twitch.

"Hey!"

You grabbed her arm before she slipped, dragging her toward you. As her bare foot passed over the wavy moss she let out a decidedly high pitched shriek, the kind you'd never heard from her before.

"Wait, wait, not the moss!"

"What?"

"It's ... under my feet! It's squiggly and moving!"

There, on the side of the cliff, with the unappealing prospect of tumbling to your death on the rocks below, you were faced with the sudden, disjointed reality that Shadowheart's ticklish feet might kill you both.

Your blank expression jarred something in her. She stared defiantly back, cheeks now steaming scarlet, eyes flashing in embarrassment. It was ... terribly cute.

Her voice emerged in a hiss.

"Don't you dare judge me."

"I'm not - "

"Look, if I don't get off this moss, I'm going to fall. There's no two ways about it."

"Uh, all right. So ... what can we - "

You paused to swat away a mephit, and you could tell that she was bracing herself for what she had to say next.

"Carry me."

"What?"

"On your back. If we maneuver, we can do it. I'll keep the mephits away. You focus on moving."

"Easier said than done!"

"Not when the alternative is dying. Now hurry up, I - I can't stand here much longer."

Somehow, you both managed to move into the required position. It was precarious going. Shadowheart managed to grip the ridges of the cliff, briefly lifting herself while you stooped slightly. Muscles quivering with exertion, you raised her and her knees sunk tightly into your sides. You immediately clutched at the cliff again, breathing ragged.

Slow as your progress was, you finally made it to the end, where the narrow shelf widened and rejoined the top of the cliff path.

Here, you collapsed, Shadowheart springing nimbly from your shoulders. You were both drenched in sweat and she was avoiding your gaze.

"Some climb, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped. She paused, tone softening considerably.

"And thanks."

"You won't be thanking me when I tell the tale tonight around a roaring campfire."

She groaned and covered her face with her palms.

"What do you want?"

"A massage for my very sore shoulders. And new arrows. These have been blunted beyond recognition."

"Ugh. Done."

Gale: Laughter most hideous

The battle had been short, but vicious. While you'd managed to overpower the cultists rather quickly, their rapid movements and knack for disappearing and reappearing in strategic places had run your team ragged.

One particular cultist seemed to have an entire library of scrolls shoved down his trousers, because the barrage of irritating cantrips had been near constant. Apparently, wearing your opponent down with utter triviality was an accepted strategy.

Gale, of course, had dealt with the majority of your magical defenses, his shields as powerful and reliable as ever. Even he, however, hadn't been able to prevent every attack from striking true. A few negligible energy missiles had made their way through, and he'd been hit by a spell of Hideous Laughter.

While he'd waved away the spell's effects with an almost lazy brush of the hand, you were now noticing odd motions from him as you climbed your way out of the sewers. He twitched every so often, and moved his shoulders up and down with an odd stiffness.

You weren't the only one who noticed. In her usual brusque manner, Lae'zel brought the matter up.

"Has a slime crawled into your robes, wizard?"

"Ah, no. No. Nothing like that. Just a little ... "

He shrugged again, face contorting.

Lae'zel brandished her sword.

"I can beat it out of your clothes if you like."

"That won't be necessary, I assure you."

"Maybe he's picked up an infection," came Astarion's drawl from the rear. "The kind that leaves crusts in your underwear. Hang around in sewers long enough and it's bound to happen."

"No, Astarion, it isn't that either. It's - "

You frowned as Gale cut off, a chagrined set to his mouth.

"Look, it was that scroll. The one of Hideous Laughter. It ... can't affect me in quite the same way as others. I have a natural resistance. But it has ... residual effects. In hard to reach places. Like my back."

You spread your hands.

"Oh, well that's ... something we can deal with right?"

"Well ... if someone would be so kind as to lend me some kind of implement with which to scratch that itch, I - "

Lae'zel waved her sword again.

"No, Lae'zel, not that - "

Astarion came forward and slapped something into your palm, his smile made devilish by the dim lighting of the cistern.

"What say we take care of our wizard?"

You glanced down and saw that he'd handed you one of his gloves, the fingers narrowed to fine points to assist with the precision of his lockpicking. Unanimously, you both turned to Gale and advanced on him.

Now looking rather nervous, your resident wizard raised his hands.

"Now hold on, you two, what are you - "

"Relax, Gale. We're here to help."

Lae'zel snorted.

"This should be interesting."

Astarion grasped Gale's shoulders and spun him around, facing away from you. You fitted Astarion's glove onto your hand and you both turned Gale's robe up, exposing the bare skin of his back above his trousers.

"Uh, I'll have you both know that my skin is rather sensitive there - Oh Gods!"

The last part emerged as a yelp as two hands clad in the designated back scratchers dragged down either side of his spine. Astarion's grin was now positively toothsome, canines glinting in the gloom.

"Why, what delightful sounds you make, Gale. I'd never have known - "

"Stop, stop, hold on - "

You punctuated Gale's protest with a downward motion of your own hand and he jumped slightly.

"As satisfying as this is - "

"I thought your back was unbearably itchy?"

"It is! I'm just ... it's ticklish, you imbeciles!"

Astarion raised a hand to his mouth in mock surprise.

"Ticklish? You? The mighty wizard?"

"Well, being in possession of a normal, functioning body makes me ticklish in certain ... areas, so yes!"

You frowned and considered this key piece of information.

"He has a normal human body, Astarion."

"Oh, that's very clear, from his ... precious little reactions."

"I say we continue with his treatment then."

"I concur, my sweet sewer conquerer."

"Now just a minute - "

Gale was soon rendered helpless beneath the co-ordinated motion of your fingers, laughter escaping him in short bursts, his form squirming and writhing in your grasp. In spite of his struggles, you managed to firmly take on the itch that had lodged itself there, soon dissipating under the rigorous scratching you gave him.

When you'd emerged from the sewers, both you and Astarion looked particularly smug, Gale's disshevelled clothes and hair, along with his embarrassed expression, attracting a few stares from passers-by.

You were fully aware, through all of this, that he could have worked the Weave to push you away at any time.

A thought to store away, it seemed.

Astarion: All pointy ears

"Well, isn't this comfortable."

The sensual purr of Astarion's voice in no way countered the situation you were both currently in. You let out a low growl and he tutted.

"Now, now. No need to be grumpy, sweetheart. After all, wouldn't you rather be tied up with me than any of our other companions?"

And tied up you were. Being the stealthier members of your group, you'd taken it upon yourselves to raid the vault of a local weapons dealer, happening upon a beautifully loaded safe that Astarion had managed to crack.

Right before you'd been caught, that is.

You were not sure how they'd managed to get the jump on you. Astarion's sensitive sense of smell had detected a whiff of sulphur, a mark of demonic infestation. It was entirely possible that the dealer had managed to wrangle some kind of security contract with a contact in Avernus that alerted him whenever the safe was tampered with.

Either way, you'd both been restrained with some expert knots, tied together back to back on a pair of chairs and left to rot until the dealer returned with his 'information specialists'. A coy term for torture and interrogation personnel, no doubt.

With the number of crossbows trained on you, there had been no question of a flashy escape. The room was too brightly lit for Astarion's shadow-based techniques to be of much use.

So, here you both were; languishing in the lower levels of the enemy base, wrists and ankles growing increasingly numb due to the tight knots. Well, at least your circulation was an issue. You weren't sure if vampires suffered from the same setbacks.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you leaned back.

"Any brilliant ideas on how we can get out of this mess?"

"Hmm."

You felt his body shift behind you, the rope creaking as he tested the knots. There was a moment of silence before Astarion spoke again, his tone a touch more plaintive this time.

"Well. They've certainly gone to town with these damnable knots."

"You don't think we can loosen them?"

More silence. Unusual.

"Astarion?"

He let out a put-upon sigh.

"There is a way ... not that I prefer it. But I've done it before when I've been in a ... sticky situation."

"And what's that?"

"I ... gnaw through the ropes."

Despite the situation, your snort of laughter was explosively loud in the small room.

"Gnaw? Like a rabbit?"

"I'd prefer not to be referred to as such, thank you," came his acidic reply.

"Fair enough."

You hastily stifled your amusement before Astarion decided to nibble through his own restraints and leave you behind. Instead, you addressed the more pertinent issue; your backs were tied to the chairs and maneuvering would be very difficult.

"So, how are you going to get your head on level with the rope?"

"I've thought of something. You still have the scabbard of your sword at your belt, correct?"

"Yes?"

"If you manage to hook it into my ropes, and I move from side to side, I can get the ropes to lift upwards and over my head. Then I bite through the ones on my wrist."

"Hmm. That ... might just work. Hold on, let me ... "

Pressing down with your elbow, you angled the empty scabbard still strapped to your waist. The edges were hard steel, not sharp, but using your body weight for leverage, it would be firm enough to enact the scenario that Astarion had envisioned.

"All right, I'm moving the scabbard towards you now."

He shifted again, pressing closer to you on one side. Using your thigh and elbow, muscles twisting awkwardly, you pushed the scabbard slowly towards him. You felt the resistance as it prodded between the ropes that bound him to the chair.

"Almost ... got it ... almost ... ha!"

You gave a soft triumphant shout as it slid home. Astarion murmured in encouragement before beginning his slow movement from side to side, careful not to unbalance either of your chairs.

Bit by bit, the ropes slid down, time passing inexorably as he inched his way through the bindings. You could feel his body slide downwards, his head descending as he lossened the ropes steadily against the firm anchor of the scabbard.

It pulled free a few times and Astarion groaned theatrically and made a jest about the 'tip slipping out', much to your annoyance.

All things considered, your escape attempt was going swimmingly, until it was time for his head to slide through the rope. The cloth upper of the scabbard, now fraying at the edges, caught on his ear.

Astarion let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a giggle.

"Ah! Oh my."

"What? Did you hurt yourself?"

"No. I mean, yes, there's some rope burn, but nothing I haven't experienced before."

"So ... what was that?"

"Nothing."

It certainly wasn't nothing. As you helped him shimmy through the ropes, a series of hiccuping breaths, stifled shrieks and sounds of barely contained hilarity reached your ears.

"Astarion. Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on back there?"

"My apologies, d - darling, it's just ... the threads on y - your scabbard are in my ear and - ah!"

Another bout of hissing and snorts.

"Oh, why, that's ... p - positively ... positively ... ticklish - eeeh!"

Gods, you were going to absolutely murder this unhinged man.

Gritting your teeth, you held firm as he finally made his way out, fangs immediately going to work on the ropes that bound his wrists. Once you were both free, you slowly made your way from the bowels of the enemy hideout, Astarion's lockpicking skills once again proving useful.

He was skilled, you'd give him that, even with all of his ... unique foibles.

With his pick in the final lock, he shot you a sly glance.

"Well? I don't see you mentioning my little weakness."

The delicate point of one of his ears twitched mockingly. You raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want me to mention it?"

"Oh, you're no fun."

He leaned towards you, a slow, seductive smile curling his lips, hands still busy with the lock even though his eyes weren't.

Show off.

"Go on, tweak my ear. I know you want to."

"Astarion, now isn't the time for - "

"Just do it. For luck."

"Oh, for the love of - "

Reaching up, you pinched his lobe delicately. He let out a noise that wouldn't have sounded out of place in an erotic theatre production. From nearby, you heard the shift of boots on a wooden floor. One of the dealer's gang called out.

"Oi, did you hear that?"

You shook Astarion wildly.

"Get us the fuck out of here you - "

The final tumbler of the lock clicked into place and you both fled into the streets, the sound of Astarion's low cackle ghosting through the evening air.

Lae'zel: Gith psionics

Lae'zel's eyes shone in the gloom, one hand raised: a signal. In the forest clearing before you, your quarry had slowed, pausing to scent the air.

A large deer, enough to feed the camp for a week.

There was a bounty of smaller game within these woods, but Lae'zel had insisted on finding the best possible prey.

Raising your bow at her signal, you let fly an arrow. It struck true, taking the animal in the neck. The deer went down and Lae'zel smirked.

"Good strike."

"Indeed, if I may say so myself."

You straightened and pulled your pack from your shoulders, ready to prepare for carrying the deer back to camp. Voices from further within the trees interrupted you, Lae'zel instantly on high alert.

Three individuals appeared in the clearing, each carrying a rather lethal-looking bow and hunting knives. They stopped in a ring around the dead deer, their posture arrogant and territorial. The leader, a half elf with dark hair cut short, raised her chin in challenge.

"What's this? You trying to make off with our kill?"

Lae'zel growled and you paused, assessing the situation rapidly.

Oh, you knew full well what this was. Closer to larger settlements, hunting rackets such as this one were bound to spring up. They appeared as if by magic whenever someone else got lucky, intimidating other hunters into leaving their choice kills behind.

Adopting a subservient smile, you stepped forward, hands raised and empty as a show of non-aggression. They did not lower their guard, but you did notice that their eyes were fixed on Lae'zel more than you. She obviously registered as the larger threat. You cleared your throat.

"Now, there's no need for unpleasantness. That's a big deer. We can always share - "

"The kill goes to us. We took it down. That's my arrow."

The half-elf's tone was snappish, brooking no argument. You shrunk inward at her rebuke.

"But, please, if we could just - "

In the moment she took her eyes from you, no longer considering you any danger, you moved. Your arrow was nocked and released faster than any of them had a chance to react, lodging deep in her neck.

There was a brief moment where the other two remained frozen, even as their leader sank to her knees, crimson bubbling from her torn throat. In that instant, Lae'zel was among them, sword flashing once, twice.

They dropped like flies.

Lowering your bow, you blew out a breath.

"Well. Looks like their temporary reign in these woods is over."

Lae'zel snorted.

"And good riddance. How pathetic."

"Indeed - oh! Look!"

Scrambling forward, you examined the leather armour the half-elf leader was wearing.

"Gods, they don't make hunting gear like this anymore. Probably stolen. I'm taking this. This is amazing quality."

Your companion shrugged, cleaning her blade.

"The spoils of war go to the victor. You've won it fair and square."

Now, however, you were faced with a different dilemma. The weight of the deer would be difficult to bear along with the dead bandit's armour. You asked Lae'zel if she could wear the armour over her own, temporarily, while you both carried the deer back to camp. She agreed, if rather tersely.

The deer strung up on a sturdy branch you'd whittled for the purpose, carried between your shoulders, you made the trek back through the trees.

It was then that you noticed Lae'zel's odd movements. The leather armour she wore over hers was comprised of a number of interconnected strips, some of which formed a wavy collar. This seemed to bring her some kind of discomfort, because she kept shifting and tugging at the armour, cursing softly under her breath.

"Lae'zel? Is everything all right?"

"Of course."

She brushed off your queries with her customary shortness, but you could see how uncomfortable she was. An idea, half-formed, sprung into your mind.

Surely ... surely she wasn't-

Time to test a hypothesis, so to speak.

You 'accidentally' stumbled, brushing your hand over the collar. Lae'zel gave a start of surprise, before glaring over her shoulder at you.

"Watch it."

Well now. Wasn't this interesting.

It seemed that the back of Lae'zel's neck was particularly sensitive. You couldn't help but wonder just how much sensitivity was contained in that area. Perhaps more testing was required.

It would certainly be useful to know for your in-camp sparring sessions which inevitably ended with you bent over Lae'zel's knee, or with your face in the dirt.

Teasing some of the feathered fletching from one of your arrows, you raised it delicately, touch as light as an evening breeze. You brought it slowly towards the targeted zone, right beneath where her braids shifted and parted, holding your breath.

As soon as the feather made contact, the world seemed to shift around you. The deer on your shoulder was suddenly a dead weight, dragging you to the ground, you feet slipping and sliding for purchase before you went down. Raising yourself on your elbows, you looked around, bewildered.

Lae'zel had ... disappeared.

"Lae'zel?" you shouted.

What on earth?

Standing, you brushed mud from your knees. She was simply ... gone. There was no sign of her anywhere.

Turning frantically on the spot, a noise in the foliage above caught your attention. Head snapping up, you beheld quite the sight.

In the highest branches of the tree beside you, Lae'zel crouched, furiously swatting at her neck. It seemed that your experiment had worked beyond your wildest dreams. The ticklish sensation against her neck had caused her gith psionics to kick in.

Clearing your throat, you adopted a confused stance.

"What on earth are you doing up there?"

She stopped her movements abruptly, the realisation of what she'd done reflected in the widening of her eyes. Her gaze flicked between her hand and you, obviously choosing her words carefully.

"Hmm. I was just ... I heard something up ahead. Possibly more ... bandits. Yes. I came up here to ... check the area."

You waved exasperatedly at the deer.

"Well, fine, but maybe give me a warning next time?"

She slid down and dropped back to the ground, not entirely meeting your querying gaze. Her mouth pulled into a sour line.

"Hmph. Well, maybe get stronger and you won't buckle under the weight of one animal."

Needless to say, you refrained from any further 'experimentation' on the way back to camp. Lae'zel insisted that you wore the armour for the latter part of the journey.

Still in the rear, you allowed your devious grin to re-appear. Sparring sessions would be much more satisfying from here on out.

[tickly-trashcan]

Secret {Astarion x Reader}

“Why are you staring at me? You’re creeping me out,” Astarion drawled with a raised eyebrow.

You shrugged. “I’m wondering what else you’ve been keeping a secret.”

Astarion huffed out a laugh. “What, you think that because I’m a vampire that I’m untrustworthy? I’m hurt, darling.”

You shook your head quickly, taking Astarion’s hand in your own. “No, it’s not that. I can understand why you kept that secret at first. I’m more curious about… well…”

You fumbled over your words, trying to find out how to phrase it. Astarion smirked and leaned toward you, your faces mere inches apart. “Curious about what, darling? If you’re going to ask about my… preferences, I would like to let you know that I’m open to almost anything.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You know I wasn’t going to ask about that, shameless flirt.”

Astarion laughed and cupped your cheek. “What can I say? With someone as lovely as you, it’s hard not to flirt.”

A bit of heat touched your cheeks and you smiled. “I was going to ask if there is anything I should be careful of with you. Vampire-related or not, I want to make sure I’m not making you uncomfortable at all.”

Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise, but he was quick to correct his facial expression. He shrugged. “Darling, nothing you could do would make me uncomfortable. If anything, I should be asking you this question.”

You crossed your arms. Astarion sighed. “Well, I’m not fond of pain, but you know this. If you want to be more, erm– physical with me, I would request gentler touch.”

You smiled at that. “You’re a bit of a softie, then?”

Astarion flushed. “Well, I didn’t say that.”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close. “What kind of gentle are we talking about? Hugs, kisses, tickles, hand-holding–”

“Since when is tickling considered gentle?”

You looked up at him with a small frown. “It can be very gentle, love. Can I show you?”

Astarion hesitated, but upon seeing the soft look in your eyes, he nodded. You smiled and gently began to trace your hands up his ribs, barely skittering your fingertips as you drew circles and scribbles along his ribs and sides.

Astarion could not hold back a small smile, curling into you as he shook with soft laughter. You grazed his belly and ever so slightly pinched at his hips, making him squeak uncharacteristically.

“Ah–! Hehehe, okahay!” Astarion tapped your shoulder and you ceased your tickling. He did not let go of you, however, still curled against you as you rubbed gentle circles in his back.

“How was that?”

Astarion hummed in contemplation. “Not as agonizing as I imagined. I suppose we could keep that on the list.”

You smiled and pulled out of his embrace to kiss him. He kissed you back, his own hands finding your hips while your lips were locked together. Your breath hitched and he smiled against your lips.

“Now, tell me, darling: how gentle should I be with you?”

[lovelynim]

could you write me + jesus anon for the requests? i'm too shy to come out of anon😌

[Requests open]

Instructions unclear, pipebomb delivered to your mailbox

“What’s wrong, soldier? Can’t stand your ground anymore?!” Karlach teased, her voice almost as loud as your laughter while you flailed and thrashed under her. If it weren’t for your screeching cackles, one could mistake the scene by some sort of murder attempt as Karlach’s tickles were anything but soft or gentle.

As if the weight of her massive body on top of you wasn’t enough to keep you from going anywhere, you also had to deal with the sheer strength of her grip, stopping your arms from lowering a single inch.

You felt your head spinning, your throat dry and your cheeks wet from the tears. You planted your heels into the ground, lifting your back from the ground just to have it slammed back down again.

The rest of the party was surely hearing your maddened giggles and you didn’t even need to look at their faces to know you were being judged or mocked. Still, none of those you dared to call allies dared to step in or help you escape from Karlach’s ticklish onslaught.

You thrashed your head left and right, pressing your eyes shut as your smile nearly tore your face apart. “K-KARLAHAHACH!!” You cried to deaf ears, feeling her fingers tickling down from your painfully outstretched armpit to your exposed sides. “I Y-YIEHEHELD!! AHAHA, LEHEHET GOHOH!!” 

The tiefling snickered - or something like that, you weren't so sure since the only sound you could hear was your own laughter. “There’s no going back, soldier, you wanted a fight, right? So show me what you got!”

Unfortunately, the only thing you could show her was how awfully ticklish you were. Poor thing, if only you had rolled a 20 instead of a 2 when you decided to start a tickle fight with the party’s barbarian…

[wyvernwhiskey]

Don't know if anyone remembers the Raphael's PB&J mod but we've got a 5 star sandwich maker over here.

[angelatmidnight1]

Omg... can I please beg for a tickle fic/ headcannons *anything* with Bg3 Raphael and tav? Him being a devil and all, I'm sure he would tease you relentlessly if he discovered how much tav enjoyed tickling... oh please oh please!

Secrets

Haarlep has been letting Tav in on some of Raphael’s dirty little secrets. Some of these secrets have come from what should have been Raphael’s private diary. When Raphael finds out, he’s less than enthused, and order must be restored to his House by any means necessary. By doing so, Raphael uncovers a not-quite secret about Tav. 

Warnings- Mentions of sex but nothing explicit. Also MDNI!

Pairing- Starts with Haarlep x Tav, ends with Raphael x Tav.

WC: ~3400.

Read on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63870748

A/N: I hope you like this anon! I wasn't sure what direction I wanted to go in, but I had fun writing this.

“He isn’t?” 

Tav, fully clothed and perched on Haarlep’s lap, stared up at the cambion in bewilderment. Haarlep loved how they looked up at them; there was such wonder, such innocence, in those pretty eyes. 

They could definitely see why this one was Raphael’s favorite client.  

“He is not,” The cambion chuckled. “Raphael is always below me, never on top. And he never looks so beautiful when he is on his back for me. The sight could bring a tear to the eye.”

Tav snickered. “Surely you are exaggerating. With his poise and theatrics, Raphael seems like he would be a better lover.”

“All an act, little one,” Haarlep sighed wistfully. “Raphael loves only Raphael. He cares only for his own pleasure. I am tasked with bringing him that pleasure. And he, darling brat that he is, lays there and takes it beautifully.”

Tav tried to picture this in their head. The magnetic, dangerous, and poetic archdevil Raphael, a bonafide pillow prince? Not that there was anything wrong with that, nothing at all. But they couldn’t imagine—

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Haarlep’s deep purr reached their ears, and Tav jolted forward with a squeak. 

“No!” Tav answered quickly, too quickly, their cheeks flushed. Haarlep laughed and pulled them back flush against their body. 

“You were, naughty thing. I had no idea that you were interested in hearing about our bedroom activities.” Their hands curled around Tav’s waist, where they squeezed and pinched over their skin. “Are you wondering how he sounds? If his eyes roll back in ecstasy?”

Tav squealed and tried to lurch forward again, but Haarlep wouldn’t let them. They squirmed and giggled as Haarlep kept squeezing and kneading their waist. 

“NahHAHAha! I wahahahahasn’t!” They argued, still lying, while trying to fold in on themselves. Haarlep dropped their hands lower to knead their thumbs into the adventurer’s hips. 

“Oh, darling, you cannot lie to me.” Haarlep smirked as Tav’s giggling jumped to startled laughter. “I can see right through you. I’d bet you wish it were Raphael’s hands all over you instead of mine.”

“HAahahrlehep!” Tav bucked and uselessly kicked around the bed, head tilted back in laughter. Haarlep snickered and, showing mercy, stopped. They kept them pinned against their body and rubbed their large hands over their hips. 

“You are adorable,” Haarlep chuckled. They leaned in to press a chaste kiss to their forehead and cheeks. “I can see why he likes you. Perhaps you will soften his selfish heart..” 

Tav exhaled and laid their head back on the cambion’s shoulder. They lightly pursed their lips. “I think I should get two extra secrets for that, sneaky devil.”

Again, Haarlep laughed. “Why stop there?” They pointed a red finger towards shelving on the wall opposite the bed. “Raphael keeps all of his diaries just on that shelf. The shelf is, of course, protected by magic. But, with the right incantation, anything is bound to happen..”

Tav followed their gaze over to the shelf. Then, they looked back up at them, eyes alit with curiosity. “And, you know this incantation?”

“Hmmmm,” The cambion hummed thoughtfully, leaning back into the bed with Tav still in their lap. “It isn’t fresh in my mind, but I could try and remember if something could jog my memory..” 

They tapped their own cheek with their claw, smirking broadly. Tav grinned and, rolling their eyes, leaned in to kiss the cambion’s cheek. Then, Haarlep tapped their other cheek. 

“What was it again?” They mused out loud. “Something that started with an ‘a’? No. ‘C’ perhaps?”

“You’re pushing your luck, Haarlep.” Tav chuckled and went to kiss their other cheek. Before they made contact, Haarlep caught their chin and held it in a gentle grip. 

“Listen closely,” Haarlep felt Tav’s cheeks heat up as they leaned in. Hells, if he wasn’t keen on stirring up some trouble for Raphael, Haarlep would’ve wanted to keep this one all to himself. They whispered the incantation into their ear, and then released them. “Go now, bring us that diary..”

Haarlep kept his eyes on Tav’s hips as they hurried over to the shelf. When they returned, he patted his lap, and they retook their place back on his lap. “There we are. Let’s see what he’s been thinking.”

Raphael’s handwriting was impeccable, no surprise there. There were poetic musings about his fascination with mortals, and his burning determination to seize the Crown of Karsus. But besides that, Tav was mentioned by name more than once, and their name didn’t just come up when he wrote about business. Tav felt the cambion’s head slink down onto their shoulder. 

“Anything interesting, my dear?” Haarlep nuzzled into the crook of their neck, bright eyes scanning the page from behind. Tav’s finger traced over their name on the page. 

“He’s been writing about me..” They murmured, smiling a soft smile as they traced the cursive. Haarlep made a big show of ‘awwing’ and cooing in their ear. 

“So it is true then. You are more than a means to an end to our dear Raphael. How sweet.” He pressed his head against Tav’s, giving a little pout. “I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll forget about me.”

“Of course not,” Tav nuzzled back into them and pecked his nose. “How could I forget about my favorite partner in crime?”

Then, there was a rattle at the door. Both looked towards the sound. 

“Speak of the devil,” Haarlep chuckled and sat up straight. “He’s home.”

Tav’s face fell. They slammed the diary closed. “You said he was miles away—”

“It appears he’s cut his trip short,” Haarlep wound an arm around their waist. “Stay calm, pet. I will distract him so you can excuse yourself. He will be none the wiser.”

Somehow, Tav doubted that, but they didn’t have time to question them. Tav also didn’t have enough time to run and put the diary back. So, they threw it into their pack. The door opened, and Raphael strode in the room. 

“Welcome home, master..” Haarlep threw open an arm in greeting, his other arm still around Tav’s waist. “You’ve returned early. You must have missed me, hmm?”

“Your opinion of yourself is unreasonably high, Haarlep. I have spent more than enough of my time with you. And I would have spent more time away had the client I pursued been worth the headache.” Raphael grumbled and swapped into his more comfortable cambion form. His eyes flickered over to the adventurer in his lap. “Oh, little Mouse. This is a surprise.”

Tav’s heartbeat quickened as he regarded them. A small, nervous smile tugged at their lips. He was going to find out about their snooping. The jig was up. The jig was—

Haarlep pulled them out of their thoughts by snuggling them. “Well, I had to find my own entertainment while you were away,” he chuckled. “And your mouse here is so enticing…”

“Y-Yehes, well. I was actually just leaving.” Tav palmed the cambion’s cheek and wriggled out of their arms. “It was good seeing you Raphael.”

“Oh? You are leaving so soon?” Raphael hummed curiously, eyebrow arched. “I am wounded. You would grace Haarlep with your illustrious presence, but not myself?”

“I-”

“Jealous, master?” Haarlep grinned and climbed off the bed, approaching him with a sultry strut. He put a hand on each shoulder from behind, pressing kisses into his neck. By doing so, he was acting as a barrier between Raphael and the door. Tav had to be quick. “Don’t be. You know you’re my favorite..”

Tav gathered their pack from the floor and scurried towards the door. But Raphael would not be easily seduced. He shrunk away from the affection and pushed the other cambion away with a grunt. 

“I haven’t the time for your games tonight, Haarlep. I must draft a new contract to pursue another deal.” Raphael stepped away, moving towards his bookshelf. Korilla helped with keeping tabs on his clients, but he had his personal records that even she didn’t see. Tav heard him call for them over his shoulder. “A moment, Mouse. Surely you can spare me a moment of your time before you rush back to saving the world.”

“N-No, I really should be going.” Tav finally stepped into what they believed was the safety of the hallway. They pushed the door shut before hurrying down the corridor. But, when Raphael’s booming voice followed them, their heart sank to their knees. 

“Where. Is. My. Journal?”

Uh oh.

There was a war of words between Raphael and Haarlep before the door slammed open. It thudded against the wall and made Tav jump. 

“MOUSE!”

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. He’s gonna kill me. Tav broke out into a run, but it was useless. Raphael materialized at the end of the hallway in a fiery blaze. They nearly tripped over themselves as they skidded to a stop. 

“I read a play during my last trip to the Material Plane..” Raphael stalked up to them like a predator approaching prey. Tav continued to backpedal.  “Shakespeare’s Othello. ‘Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use.’ You seemed rattled when I returned— not because I interrupted a rendezvous. No… it was something else.”

“I- don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tav played dumb, staring up at him with big, innocent looking eyes. They, however, radiated with giddy, nervous energy, and they fought back a smile more than once. Raphael’s eyes narrowed. 

“You are lying,” Raphael growled. “And it is a poor attempt at a lie at that. You, a guest in my home, would rifle through my things and believe I wouldn’t notice? How foolish..”

Tav opened their mouth to speak, to explain. Raphael ignored them, snapped his fingers, and teleported them to his private quarters. The room was adorned with crimson and golden decor that mirrored the rest of his house, but the air was calmer. Still. This was a place that even Haarlep knew not to visit unannounced. 

Tav found themselves on another bed, but this one was bigger. It had darker, redder sheets. 

And this time, they had a vexed archdevil looming over them. 

“Wahait, Raphael. I can explain--” 

Tav made an ‘oof’ sound as Raphael pushed them down. They scrambled to sit up, to get away, but this little mouse wouldn’t be escaping. He made sure of it by pinning them down at the waist with his legs. Restraining their wrists would soon follow. 

“Spare me your explanations,” Raphael sneered. “I wrested the details from Haarlep, and they will be dealt with accordingly. Now if you have any last words, Mouse, make them quick. It will only take a moment to finish you.” 

Tav didn’t need to dig themselves into a deeper hole. But, against all logic, they did. 

That small, impish smile returned. They remembered what they gossiped about with Haarlep. 

“You know, that’s twice as long as Haarlep said it takes to finish you.”

Now they’ve done it. Raphael bristled and raised his hands, poised to strike. 

“You contemptuous creature!”

If Raphael hadn’t been fond of Tav in his way, he would’ve had them flayed. And that would’ve been the merciful option. But, he’d learned so much about them and, by extension, mortals. How they expressed fortitude in the face of danger. How they rallied together to fight evils. 

How ticklish some of them were. And the Little Mouse was no exception. 

Raphael went for their ribs first, hands curling around them and fingernails skittering along the bones. Tav screamed and arched their back, descending into a giggling fit. Their hands blindly chased after his, but they were soon pulled up and over their head, bound by some Infernal magic. The ticklish panic weighed on them, and they bucked and squirmed as he kneaded between the bones. 

“NAhahahahahaha! Raph, dohohohohn’t!”

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, dear,” Raphael scoffed. His hands dropped down, kneading his thumbs into their sides, and smirking when they giggled harder. “My home is a place of order and decorum, not thieves and mischief. I thought you were better than this, Tav. But it seems I was mistaken. You and your accomplice will be corrected.”

“Nononohohohoho! Ahahaha! I’m sohohohohorry!” Tav pleaded. Their wrists strained against the magic holding them above their head. Suddenly, the devil dug into their stomach, and their scream was probably loud enough to hear in the Material Plane. They arched off of the bed, laughing loudly as his large hands scampered up and down their tummy. Their shirt didn’t really protect them from the tickles; it was decoration if nothing else. 

“You’re sorry?” Raphael echoed them in a mocking, pitying tone. “Another lie. You don’t know the meaning of the word. In fact you are only ‘sorry’ that I returned at a most inopportune time and caught you in the act.”

Tav pinched their eyes shut, thrashing and laughing as the tickles continued, gradually getting faster. Much to their surprise, Raphael paused abruptly, walking two fingers up their side and back towards their ribs. 

“Although,” he mused. “I don’t believe this is much of a punishment for you, judging from what I observed amongst you and your companions..”

Tav’s eyes snapped back open. They squealed as he repeatedly pinched their lowermost rib, kneading it between his fingers. “Whahahaht?!”

“Do not be coy with me,” Raphael dragged his fingernails in between the ribs, earning deep, desperate giggles. “I have learned a great deal about you during this perilous journey. Mortals and devils are as different as night and day. We crave similar things at times, and yet we still do not hold the same eccentricities. We do not seek out the touch of another in order to laugh. And yet, you do.” 

Tav’s cheeks burned with realization. Still, they opted for playing dumb. Their heart was doing somersaults in their chest. How in the hell did he know? “I dohoho nohohoht—”

“I have kept my eye on you. I’ve seen how easily you crumble should Astarion merely rest a hand on your waist,” Raphael toyed with their ribs like a piano, alternating between kneading in between one rib and pinching another. Tav bucked their hips again and tried to curl in on themselves. “Or when Karlach gathers you in her arms, you make a show of kicking and squealing, only to give little resistance when she finally has her hands on you. There is still the matter of addressing your thievery, but as for this?”

His hands shot up suddenly and buried into their exposed armpits. Instead of continuing to try and curl inwards, Tav bucked their hips, their giggles jumping in both pitch and volume. They tugged against the magic keeping their arms up, but their arms didn’t budge. Raphael had free range to dig deep into the hollows, scritching away. 

“You enjoy being tickled,” he asserted, his lips curling into a knowing grin. “And since I do not want to harm you, I am satisfied with correcting your behavior through this…unorthodox method. In fact, this begets the question of poking your nose in my belongings. Were you simply curious, or did you want my attention?”

By the hells. If Tav’s face got any hotter, they were gonna ignite. They were giggling too hard to give a coherent answer, and the only thought swimming in their mind was how much they wanted to bring their arms down. That thought was quickly replaced by another surge of ticklish panic as his hands worked back down their torso. 

“Waitwaitwait!” They gasped, “I’ll give it bahahack! It’s in my pahahahck! Nohohoho!”

Their pleading fell on deaf ears, and Raphael’s nails skimmed over their waistline. Tav jolted upwards and let out panicked giggles. Not there, not there. 

“Alas, it should still be in my bookshelf, along with my other books.” Raphael hummed. “You have only succeeded in further implicating yourself. Though that is not what I asked. Why did you rifle through my private journal?”

Tav wheezed as he dragged two fingers across their waist in a slow, slow line. Their head tilted back as they struggled to say something at least partially coherent. “I-I dihihdn’t—Haarlep—”

“Will be appropriately dealt with, as are you,” he reminded. “In truth, I expect this sort of misbehavior from them, but not from you. And I grow tired of this back and forth, this endless web that we weave..”

Raphael rested a thumb on each of their hips. Tav shrieked, further sealing their fate, and giggled for no other reason than pure anticipation. 

“Why?”

He would not ask them again. That was clear enough from his tone. His thumbs tapped, tapped, tapped over their hip bones, and the poor adventurer jumped from each one.

“Curiosity!” They panted, giggling loudly. “I was curious! Plehehease, not there-”

The archdevil’s fingers stilled. He hummed; whether that was from satisfaction, amusement, or both, Tav was not sure. 

“Where, Mouse?” He suddenly started squeezing their hips, and Tav immediately fell into a fit of deep laughter. “Here?”

“NAHAHA! RAHAHAPHEHEL!” Tav shrieked, bucked, and cackled as he pinched over their hip bones. Somewhere amidst their laughter, they heard Raphael chuckle. 

“My my, you are a sensitive one,” he mused. “I can certainly see the appeal your companions have towards tickling you. Their brave, selfless leader, reduced to a state of laughter with just the right touch.”

Raphael was gonna be the death of them, they were sure of it. He slowed his assault to a crawl, with two fingers skittering from hip bone to hip bone. This touch mirrored Astarion’s light, nimble fingers. 

“Do you have a preference, I wonder?” He raked his nails just a hair above the bone as he thought out loud. Tav hiccuped and laughed harder. “Do you prefer the rogue’s dexterous hand? Careful and assured, able to pick apart even the most iron-clad lock. Or..”

His hands jumped back to their hips, squeezing with a fervor that fell in line with Karlach’s enthusiasm. “Is the barbarian’s style more enjoyable to you? A hand touched by the Hells, her touch mirroring its flames by how eagerly it engulfs you, and yet provides a warmth that you can get from no other.”

As if he cast the fire bolt cantrip, Tav cheeks flushed deeply. They were laughing too hard to answer, their mind swimming between how right Raphael was, and how much it tickled. Raphael slowed the tickling down just enough to leave them gasping and giggling. 

“I would like an answer, my dear.”

“I dohohohn’t hahave ohohne!” They squeaked, not quite lying. They enjoyed the closeness and silliness that came from tickling, and didn’t care who had them on them on the receiving end. 

And yet, being at this archdevil’s mercy started to tell them a different story…

“Oh no?” Raphael suddenly squeezed their sides, and they let out a surprised shriek. “They will be gutted. Surely you must have a way that you enjoy being tickled..”

Raphael, halting the tickling altogether, waved his hands over Tav’s wrists. The magic that had been holding them up dissipated, and they were free to bring their arms down. Tav blinked, confused. 

“I don’t-”

That confusion only lasted for a second. Raphael’s hands found their waist again, where he scribbled and tickled with fervor. Tav yelped and scrambled to grab his hands, succeeding only in palming his knuckles, and noticing that they weren’t trying that hard to push him away. 

Raphael noticed that too. 

“RAHAHAHPH!”

“Ah, I see…” Raphael purred and easily shook their hands away, reaching behind him to squeeze just above their knees. Their breath hitched for a moment before they fell back into a laughing fit. Their legs kicked against the bed as they squirmed, but even then, they weren’t making much of an effort to flee. “It would seem you prefer my way.”

Yes.. The word was on the tip of their tongue, but they weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of proving him right. Again, Raphael paused, giving them a chance to breathe.

“I am flattered. Though you should know that there is no need to give in to Haarlep’s antics to get my attention. It does, as with most things, come with a price.”

Tav tilted their head up, unsure of what he’d ask of them. Did they bite off more than they could chew? Raphael held his hands above their torso, smirking. 

“If you want me to tickle you, you must ask. So be a good mouse and ask.” 

[gurlu]

[red-dead-sakharine]

Tickles - Part 7

Raphael x Tav, RaphaelPOV, soft!raphael, gn!tav, fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship, conflicted!cambion

Part 1 | P 2 | P 3 & 4 | P 5 | P 6 | P 7 | | P 8

Raphael sat at his desk in the boudoir. He had sent Korrilla to to keep an eye on the adventurers again. While he had an avid interest in keeping them alive before, his investment has now skyrocketed to new heights. The mere thought of losing his little mouse has become unbearable to him.

He wrinkled his nose. The fact that he had become so... attached to this mortal bothered him somewhat. It was a weakness. It was un-devil-like. It was pathetic. That was his fiend blood talking, and he knew it. His mortal side longed for Tav's affection. Their touch. Their understanding. He's had a long and difficult life. But never in all his years, has he felt as whole as he did last night, when his little mouse held him tight and told him he was perfect. He had craved this. And he feared it. And he hated it. The thought of killing the mouse crossed his mind. It would prevent him from more mistakes. From indulging in this weakness. But he could not bear the thought.

He sighed. No matter how much his father's blood rebelled against it, he would keep his mouse safe. And once the brain was defeated and he had the crown, he would keep them close and never let go again.

He threw a glance at the clock, almost midnight. His fingers drummed impatiently on the desk - just once. But that already was something that irked him. It was unlike him to be restless. When you live for thousands of years, you perceive time differently. But today he was eager to act, but he had to wait for the right moment and it made him antsy. A feeling he rarely experienced.

Finally, a knock on the door frame announced Korrilla. Raphael's insides were doing handsprings, but he kept his composure and projected a picture of calm superiority on the outside. Though as the dwarf approached, his nose wrinkled again, "What is that smell?"

"Your favorite misadventurers have been trudging threw the sewers all day." Korrilla grumbled slightly.

"Ah." That explained things. "I take it, they are back at the tavern now?"

The dwarf nodded, "Yes. When I left them, they were fighting over the rights to the bathtub."

The devil's nose flared in disgruntlement. This would mean he'd have to wait even longer for them to all get to sleep. He tried not to let his frustration show, "Did anything of note happen today?" "They seem to have found the entrance to the temple of Bhaal but couldn't get through the door." Korrilla reported. Raphael hummed in acknowledgement, "They'll figure it out, I'm sure. Good work." he waved the warlock off, and she nodded and left. No doubt to go burn her clothes. That sewer stench would never get out.

The devil's fingers drummed on the desk once more. How could a day feel so impossibly long?

He waited several more hours - the finger drumming on the desk slowly increased in frequency as the night dragged out. In the early morning hours, Raphael finally stood up. Surely, the tadpoled mortals have had enough time now to get clean and fall asleep.

Still, to not end up in another embarrassing disaster, he decided to appear outside their room. And so he did. With a flash of fire and ash, he appeared right in front of the door to their room in the elfsong tavern. The place was quiet for the most part. He could hear some drunkards from below, but at this time of night most of the merry folks had already passed out. He cautiously put his ear to the door. Nothing. Good. Slowly, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He scanned the room for the vampire spawn, but he wasn't there. Probably out feeding. Next he looked for the animals. He didn't see them at first, but a few steps further into the room, he spotted them: Curled up at the foot of the tiefling's bed. A quiet spell later he could be sure they wouldn't wake, and disrupt him.

Now for the reason he was here...

[mood music]

He turned to where he had been during his first visit, and there they were. His little mouse. He quietly moved over to them - and frowned. There was a bruise on Tav's face, that hadn't been there last time he saw them. Who dared to hurt you, mouse!? He was angry at whoever caused the damage, but he was also quite confident that the culprit was already dead. His favorite mortal probably cut their way through several Bhaal cultists today. The thought made him smile. He made a mental note to try and watch from the shadows sometime. He found the image of his mouse covered in the blood of their enemies incredibly arousing.

He took a deep breath and shook the thought off, though. This was not why he was here. He knelt down in front of Tav's bed and looked them over. They were lying belly-down, the uninjured side of their face squished against the pillow. It looked a bit funny, but also incredibly endearing to the fiend. He smiled at the picture and just drank it in for a while.

When he had memorized every detail of the sight, he began to act. He gently pulled the blanket down to their waist and snaked his fingers below the nightshirt. He leaned in, hoping the mortal would smell his perfume, and he whispered every so quietly into their ear, "O apple of my eye..." He meant to wake them as gently as he could, to avoid repeating that calamity from last time. His fingers gently stroked Tav's back. He enjoyed the feeling of their skin. Soft. Vulnerable. A few battle scars here and there, that told tales of victory and prowess. "Little mouse... I'm in your house." he whispered and smirked at his own rhyme. His fingers ran across their shoulders, one by one, tracing the shoulder blades. "You're so fast asleep, little mouse, you don't even wake at this..." He whispered against their ear, and his fingers traced back down their spine. Perhaps they are too exhausted. It didn't matter. He kept caressing their back, their sides. And he looked at their face. That beautiful - squished - face, looking so peaceful and without worry. Looking so kissable. He leaned in, "Little mouse, you're such a sight." His words were barely audible, and he followed them with a gentle kiss to Tav's cheek.

That finally caused them to stir. They inhaled deeply, and without even opening their eyes, a smile formed on their lips, "Raphael?" they mumbled into their pillow. He smirked to himself. They knew his smell. "Yes, little mouse. I was in the area and thought, I'll stop by..." he lied in a whisper, and stroked their back gently. Their smile widened, "Glad you did." they mumbled sleepily. He brought his face close to theirs and placed another kiss on their temple, "Just relax, sweetling." And they sighed happily. His hand moved up to run through Tav's hair. Another sigh. He could not help himself but to place another kiss on their cheekbone, and their smile grew even wider. They liked what he did. He felt proud and happy. He caused them to feel good, and it was his accomplishment.

His hand trailed down their back. Now that Tav was at least somewhat awake, he became more daring. He placed his hand at their waistband and waited - an unspoken request, like the ones before. He looked back into Tav's face, and their eyes were open now. Looking at him in the darkness, still smiling. He had his answer. His hand slid down into their pants, gently stroking over their butt cheeks, one by one. The mortal's eyes closed again. Enjoying the attention.

His heart swelled with pride. Never would he have thought that he'd feel so good, just from causing some mortal pleasant feelings. But he did. He felt elated to be the cause of their happiness. And after all, this wasn't just some mortal. This was his little mouse.

For a short moment, the feral fiend inside him wanted to tear off their clothes and ravage them on the spot. But he calmed the monster and pushed it away. This was not why he was here. His fingertips ghosted over the mouse's rear, and he heard them sigh. It made him feel so good. This was better than a short moment of sexual relief. This was... soft.

He began to like soft.

He looked back into Tav's face and they were still smiling. Likely drifting somewhere between waking and sleeping. He would be gone by the time they woke up in the morning. Perhaps they will think this was all a dream. He wasn't sure if he liked that idea, or if he wanted them to remember his visit. He pondered over it, while he continued to caress their butt cheeks, then their back again. Trailing down their right arm - the only one he could reach. His kissed their hand. Another sigh. He trailed kisses up their arm. That happy smile never left their face. Their beautiful face. He leaned in again to place a kiss on their bruised jaw. They hummed. Another on their cheek. The smile grew larger again. Another on their temple. On their nose. And after a moment's hesitation, on their lips. They kissed back lightly. Obviously more asleep than awake, but still reacting to his touch. He was filled with love. He kept going, gently stroking and kissing them, until the sun poked their first rays of light into the room.

He finally stood up to leave. But he hesitated. He wanted them to know, he decided. He wanted them to know, it wasn't just a dream. He used his powers to nick a single rose from a bouquet he had in the devil's den. It appeared between his fingers, and he left it on Tav's bedside table.

Then he bent down to place a parting kiss on Tav's cheek, and pulled their covers back up to their shoulders. He drank in the picture for a few more moments before he vanished. Leaving behind the smell of his perfume, ash and sulfur.

His heart sang with delight,

he had enjoyed this night.

👉 Part 8

[bunnidarling]

Averyll took to the sea and Angelus went to find him

Beautiful art comm by @annat-art of @thatcerealkiller 's boy as the daring Corsair that heeded my boy's siren song.

[sakharine-den]

Tickles...

Butt under the cut

Fanfic

[tickly-trashcan]

Cackle {Gale x Reader}

“How come you never told me you were this ticklish??” You exclaimed.

“It– GAhaha!! It never cahahahame up!” Gale shrieked, pounding his fists into the dirt at the campsite.

“I think it’s rather rude to keep such a fun fact from me,” With a grin, you snuck your hands under Gale’s arms, making him snap his arms to his sides and howl.

“Love, plehehehehease–!”

Gale buried his face in the dirt and you could not help but chuckle from your spot on his back. His feet kicked helplessly behind him while you tickled him to bits, finding his cackles and reactions highly amusing. You had always loved his laugh, however dorky it could get, but this was a new level of cackling that you did not think Gale could achieve.

“Gods, this is sickening to watch,” Astarion said with displeasure from the sidelines. Shadowheart and Lae’zel stood beside him, both with their arms folded.

“And loud. Why torture someone if you’re not trying to get information out of them?” Lae’zel grumbled, walking away from the scene.

You only rolled your eyes and went back to Gale, who was starting to twist onto his back under your weight. You chuckled and began to claw at his stomach when he was halfway onto his back, making him shriek and flop back onto his belly.

Gale was burning with embarrassment and giddy with ticklish energy, but he did nothing to stop you aside from flail. He knew you were having fun, and if that was at the price of some of his dignity, he was willing to let that happen.

When you found his ribs, however, he went into silent hysterics and wheezes. You worried if you had gone too far and stopped, leaving him a panting mess beneath you.

“Gale?”

“Oh Gods– My stomach hurts from laughing,” He chuckled. You got off of him and he sat up, face red and eyes teary. “You can be cruel, love.”

You shrugged mischievously and brushed some of his hair behind his ear. “I only do it because I love you.”

Astarion made a gagging noise and Gale waved him away. “Go suck a pig dry or something.”

You laughed and Gale grinned dorkily, helping himself up and then extending a hand to you. He pulled you up and let his hand find the small of your back, pulling you close. At this point, the rest of your party had left the two of you alone, and you smiled against Gale’s lips when he kissed you.

He jumped back from the kiss with a yelp when you pinched his hip. “Do not start that again! I was trying to be sweet!”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him again. “You’re sweet enough already.”

[wyvernwhiskey]

Oh...that is...that is really hot.

This image may or may not be causing a few fantasies to run through my mind as I type this...

[angelatmidnight1]

Could I request a Karlach x Tav reader? Where Karlach accidentally discovers Tav who normally acts tough is actually embarrassingly ticklish?

Put 'Em Up

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Karlach Cliffgate x Reader (lee!reader, ler!Karlach, tiny bit of lee!Karlach at the end). Reader puts on a tough personality and is strong like Karlach. Reader and Karlach are also in a romantic relationship.

Word Count- 2,216.

Warnings- None really, besides tickling and swearing.

Karlach asked to train with you, but she isn’t taking it very seriously. Instead, she uses it as an opportunity to flirt and get closer to you. You try to stay focused, but she accidentally finds out that you’re ticklish. It’s going to be a long match..

“Alright, babe. Hit me with your best shot.”

Karlach circled you with a bright grin, fists up. The two of you were training, and she was only too excited to tussle with you. Sure, she knew how important training was to you, but she’d take any excuse to get closer to you. You sized her up and hummed.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You took a swipe at her when she got too close, and she parried your blow. Karlach huffed.

“I should be saying that to you,” she chuckled. “But fine, just know that just because you’re playing nice doesn’t mean that I will.”

You smirked. You and Karlach were still early in your relationship, and there was a lot that she didn’t know about you. Although she was much taller and muscular than you, you could hold your own in a fight. In fact, you were known for your fighting prowess in Baldur’s Gate. You didn’t buy into the hype; you could rarely tolerate the company of others. But, Karlach was the exception. And she was in for one hell of a surprise. 

“Damn, you’re strong.” 

Karlach grunted as you pinned her on her back. Both of you were out of breath from wrestling each other. It wasn’t easy to get her down, but you managed. You straddled her waist and had her arms pinned above her head. “Way stronger than I thought..”

“I know,” You forced her arms back down when she tried to pull away. “I've flattened more people than I can count in Baldur’s Gate.”

Karlach breathed out a laugh. “At least you’re modest about it, huh?” She continued fidgeting in your grip, making it harder for you to keep her down. “I’ll be honest, I can’t remember the last time anyone’s pinned me. Usually it’s the other way around, heh. But, I could get used to this…”

The tiefling gave you a cheeky grin. One that made you exhale slowly through your nose. 

“Karlach,” Your cheeks flushed slightly. “Don’t start.”

“Ooo, bossing me around now?” Karlach’s grin widened, and her engine glowed.  “That’s hot..”

You shook your head, your blush darkening. “Shut up.” 

Karlach craned her head up to you with a challenging smirk. “You gonna make me?”

You stared at her, flustered, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you met her halfway and kissed her lips deeply. She hummed in surprise and happily returned the kiss. Her lips were warm, soft, and familiar. You got lost in that kiss. And, she had the opportunity to flip your positions. 

When your back hit the ground, you grunted softly. Karlach pinned your wrists by your sides and gave you a triumphant grin. 

“Gotcha.”

You groaned. “I should’ve known you would cheat.”

“Hey, all’s fair in love and war! And, I uh, really love you.” Karlach’s voice softened as she gazed down at you. “A lot.”

“I love you too.” The love she expressed to you was still overwhelming. Not in a negative sense, but it still felt a bit foreign to you. Before the nautolid, you were content to spend your days alone. Now, you weren’t sure what you’d do without Karlach’s bright presence, even if you didn’t express it. You ended the tender moment by adding, “Now let me up so I can kick your ass.”

Karlach threw her head back with a laugh. “I don’t think so. Maybe I like you here, with me on top.” She shot back, wiggling her eyebrows. You bit back a smile, giving her your best stern look. 

“We’re supposed to be training,” Your voice came out strained as you tugged against her grip. Your arms moved a couple of inches, but Karlach held on tighter, now using much more of her strength. “Not goofing off.”

“I know, but who says we can’t have a little fun too?” Karlach leaned down towards you. You leered at her. “Don’t give me that look, (Y/N). Gimme a smile.”

She kissed your cheek. Your forehead. Your nose. Your other cheek. You wiggled your head as she attacked your face with kisses, unable to stop your smile.

“Thihis isn’t training!” You protested. You continued squeaking and struggling until she moved the kisses to your neck. The kisses got sloppier, and each one ended with a loud ‘mwah’. You shivered and inadvertently squealed when her lips found a ticklish spot.

Karlach froze. There was a curious glint in her fiery eyes. 

“What was that?”

“Er, nothing.”

“Nothing? Are you sure?” A worried look came over Karlach’s features. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” Your cheeks flushed again, but this time for a different reason. One of your closely guarded secrets was how ticklish you were. And it was for a good reason; you, alongside Karlach, were the muscle of your party. It was often said that you learned how to fight before you could walk. Any enemy that wasn’t afraid of you changed their tune when they saw the thrashing you’d given their friends. You didn’t want anyone to know that you could be taken down by something as embarrassing and childish as tickling. 

With a deep breath, you pulled down hard against Karlach’s grasp, freeing your wrists. Your feet found purchase on the ground and you sat up. You parried her attempts to grab and re-pin you and, after minutes of back and forth grappling, Karlach suddenly hoisted you in the air. Her claws dug into your sides with enough pressure to tickle, and you inadvertently wheezed. Karlach froze again and turned you around in her arms so that you faced her. 

“Am I tickling you?” The curious glint in her eyes turned playful as she held you in the air. Your heartbeat quickened as you stared back at her. 

“No, you aren’t. You’re just squeezing a bit hahard—” A slight giggle escaped you, and you coughed to mask it. Karlach held you in a gentler grip, giving your sides a much softer squeeze. You gasped, “P-Put me down..”

“I don’t know,” Karlach obliged by setting you back on the ground. But she kept her hands on your sides, squeezing just below your rib cage. You batted her hands away with another concealed giggle. “That sounded like a laugh to me.”

“It wasn’t!” You held one arm closer to your torso protectively and resumed your fighting stance. “Enough talk, let’s keep at it.” 

“Right, sure.” Karlach chuckled. There was something about her tone and the way she now sized you up that made you feel wary. But, you pushed the feeling away, charging her and initiating another grappling session.

Instead of responding how you thought she would, where maybe she’d drag you back to the ground or pick you up again, her hands ended up on your torso again. She gripped your hips, squeezing and prodding them, and you choked back more laughter. 

“Whahat the hell ahare you doing?” You grabbed her wrists, fighting with her grip, but she didn’t let up. Your laughter was getting harder to hold back. You accidentally stumbled backwards during your attempt to free yourself from her grasp. Karlach happily followed you down. 

“Not ticklish my ass, you’re laughing!” She accused, poking randomly along your torso. You frantically grabbed at her wrists and grit your teeth. 

“Noho I’m not!” You arched your back when she prodded at your belly, squealing again. “Stop thahat!”

“Then why’re you laughing, huh? What’s so funny?” Grinning, Karlach straddled your waist, trapping your flailing arms at your sides. Her hands descended onto your ribs and she scritched up and down the bones. You bit your lips to halt your impending giggle fit. 

“N-Nohot laughing…” You gasped, trying to tug your arms free. Now, Karlach was utilizing her full strength on you, and she was determined to keep you down. You arched your back when her hands scampered back down your sides. She alternated between poking and squeezing and you pinched your eyes shut. It tickled so badly, but you were determined to hold out. Your partner’s giddy, teasing voice echoed in your ears. 

“(Y/N), baby, I know you wanna laugh..” Karlach smirked. She pinched your hips again, kneading them, and you wheezed. She giggled. “Better admit it before I really start tickling you.”

You tried to ignore her, your feet drumming against the ground as she kept tickling. A silly grin spread across your face. She clawed at your belly again, and the dam finally broke. 

You tossed your head back, giving in to your loud, wheezing laughter. “FUHUAHA! KAhaharlach, stahahahp!”

Karlach’s eyes brightened. “Oho, I knew it!” She cheered. She drilled her thumbs into the sides of your belly, and you wheezed again. 

You were laughing too hard to answer her. You shook your head back and forth as you fell into a deeper pit of laughter. Eventually, you were able to give her a minimal response.  “FAHahahaha offhahaha! Gehehehet off of mehehehehehe!”

“Mm, maybe later,” she snickered. She eased off your stomach and pulled your arms above your head with one hand. You tried to yank your arms free before she could fully pin them, but she moved fast, and your squealing fell flat. She wriggled her claws at you tauntingly. “All this time, and I had no idea you were ticklish!”

“Youhuhu wehehehren’t suhuhposed tohohoho!” You fired back, still giggling from the previous attack. You watched her claws and squirmed under her. “Dohohn’t you dare! Let me up!”

“Oh, I dare, soldier,” Karlach chuckled. She hovered her hand just inches away from your torso. “Besides, I still got a match to win here.”

Again, you shook your head. You were nothing if not stubborn. “Karlach,” you started warily. “Let me up. This isn’t what wehehehe agreehehed toohoo-”

Karlach alternated pokes between your sides, earning yelps and squealing giggles. “Say uncle!”

You squealed louder as she suddenly reached up and scribbled into your underarms. You tugged at your arms with all of your strength, but they didn’t budge. You made a poor attempt to hold back the giggle fit that overtook you. 

“Kahahaharlahahach!” You whined, giggling harder when she increased her efforts. “Nohohoho tickling! Youhuhuhu chehehater!”

“Say uncle,” she repeated, smiling widely. Your underarms didn’t seem all that ticklish, so she went back to your torso. Your giggling turned frantic, and when she poked into your tummy, you wheezed. Her tail wagged behind her as she did it again, again, and again. 

“NOHOHO-” You snorted, which amused Karlach even further. She switched from poking to kneading her thumbs into the sides of your stomach. You laughed loudly and bucked your hips. 

“Damn, no wonder you were able to pin me,” Karlach was saying as she squeezed and scritched over your tummy. “You’ve got all this muscle!” She added to her comment by kneading her thumbs back into your skin, which earned her another wheeze. You blushed deeply.

“NOHOHOT FUHUHUNNY!” 

Karlach snorted. “I’m serious! You’re the whole package: strong, smart, attractive. Oh, and adorable. Heh. It’s a miracle my engine hasn’t given out sooner ‘cause of you.” She slowed down the tickling, stroking her claws just above your belly button. Your laughter died down to heavy giggles, and you were able to catch your breath. “I’m still waiting on that ‘uncle’ by the way.”

You didn’t plan on giving it to her; you were nothing if not stubborn. During her tickle attack, she’d eased up on her grip on your arms. You were tired, but your tenacity gave you just enough energy to pull yourself free from her hold. What you did next was out of your norm, but as far as you were concerned, it was completely warranted. 

“You wanna play like that, huh?” You threw yourself at her, sending both of you crashing on the ground. It was harder to get her pinned down like you did earlier. But, once your fingers dug into her sides, Karlach burst into loud laughter. 

“It wahahahahs wohohohohrth ihihihihit!” Karlach squealed and bucked her hips as your hands darted all over her torso. She was hot to the touch, but it didn’t burn, and you were gonna have your revenge. Soon enough though, Karlach was able to reverse your positions again, aiming straight for your belly. She held you in her arms this time, and she didn’t let up. She buried her head into the crook of your neck, kissing and nuzzling into your skin, and you finally tapped out.

“ALRIHIHGHT! Okay! Uncle!” 

The tickling stopped and you laid your head back to catch your breath. Karlach held you flush against her chest. The sparring session was a workout for her too, and she was almost as breathless as you were.

“That was fun,” Karlach said after a while, chuckling. “We’ve gotta do this sparring thing more often. I haven’t had that much fun in, well, ever.” 

“I don’t think our enemies would expect us to tickle them, Karlach.” You answered, shaking your head affectionately. There was a small part of you that wanted to be angry at a sparring session turned tickle fight, but it was difficult for you to be angry with her. “You, on the other hand, are in for it once I catch my breath.”

Karlach grinned, and you could feel her engine glow behind you. “Bring it on, (Y/N)."

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to post, but I hope you like the story!

[elminster-big-naturals]

"what kind of law did astarion pass to piss off the gur so much 😂"

aside from the fact magisters don't pass laws, the implication that cazador was just kind of casually waiting around for his moment bc knew astarion was Such a dickhead that someone was going to beat his ass to death eventually is extremely funny

[sideshow-cellophane-blog]

Zevlor's Treatment

I shamelessly give you this ticklish hellbear in honor of the NPC mod that lets me have Zevlor in camp. Zevlor/Halsin strongly implied.

“You'll need to hold still for the physical,” Halsin held the door to his workspace open for Zevlor. “If what you say is true, then I may be able to help with evening the nastier scars. I'd need to touch the skin in order to start the healing process. Forgive the intrusive procedure, but it would clear away those aches you speak of when stretching…and, speaking as your friend and partner, it pains me to see you wince when you think I don't see.”

“You'd be doing me a boon, Halsin,” Zevlor ducked his head in thanks as he stepped inside. There was an exam table meant for him to lay on, and he peeled off his outer layers as Halsin prepared the healing space.

“No boon to return, no favors owed,” Halsin waved his hand over his shoulder. “I'm mixing a skin ointment, unless I'm out of … Drat, I am out of jelly base. I'll use an oil-based treatment then. It will soften your skin so the magic will work its way into the scar tissue with ease, but the oil tingles some. It should only take a moment.”

Zevlor hummed in response, sitting himself on the table. The scars from Elturel had not healed well during the war, and they had been opened and reopened throughout their journey to Baldur's Gate and against the Absolute. Old ones, new ones, some deeper than others, some healed by exhausted battle-worn clerics and some infected before help had arrived in time. Halsin finally saw the ugliest ones when he saw Zevlor washing himself in the river, and the healer's keen eye saw too much. Some of them still hurt and pull, after all.

So here Zevlor sat, comfortable enough with his companion to allow him to help. 

Halson turned with a glass jar of the freshly mixed oil and a towel, dipping and offering it to Zevlor. “Would you kindly lay down and keep your arms at your sides? I'll dab this on and let it sit. We'll do this on your front and back.”

Halsin's towel was on his chest when Zevlor was settled into a comfortable position. The oil felt warm and did tingle, but Halsin was being gentle enough over the scars. Zevlor still winced when his ridged ribs were swiped or patted over. 

He shut his eyes and tried to relax into the sensations. The oil was working fast as his skin absorbed it, and Zevlor found that he was feeling especially ticklish. A smile was flitting over his hardened features. “Thank you.”

“It is no problem,” Halsin assured yet again. “Just let it wash over you.”

“Aha - I think it's doing more than that,” He couldn't resist a soft chuckle when Halsin ran the soft cloth over his abdomen. The muscles there tensed and twitched away. 

“Ticklish?” 

Zevlor could hear the amused tone in Halsin's. “A bit,” He admitted with another chuckle. “I-I think the oil is - ha! Haha!” He covered his mouth fast. Halsin had run the cloth over a scar on his belly. His tail twitched like an agitated cat. 

“The oil, hm?” Halsin couldn't help but tease. “Hmhm. By softening your skin it makes you more sensitive. The tingling tickles me more than the cloth, normally, but Nettie has made even me howl once or twice…Not that it takes much for me, mind you,” He tried to use a softer touch as he went over a particularly nasty scar across Zevlor's ribs, and switched to a firmer one when that made the tiefling roll on his side with a giggle. “Hold still,” Halsin had to laugh as he pulled his partner onto his back again. Zevlor was certainly chuckling to himself. “I would have warned you that this would be a ticklish experience, had I known!” His hands lifted to give Zevlor a break. 

The paladin shook with mirth. Everywhere Halsin had spread the oil was hypersensitive, to where every touch or brush was a torrent of sensation. The tingling came and went in pulsating waves, tickling at the higher points. “I, hahaha, I haven't…I haven't been ha! Been t-tickled in a - haaahaha!” He had to firmly hold and pat down his abdomen, where the most offending tingles tortured his nerves. 

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Halsin was positive Zevlor blushed. There was a darker shade of pink on his cheeks. “No! No. J-just…go fast. Easy. Heh.”

“Perhaps gloves instead of a towel will be better?”

He huffed as the tingling came to a low. “So you can tickle me on purpose? Save it for later. Keep going as you are, hurry!”

“I'm doing my best, my heart,” Halsin chuckled. He used a firm hand to wipe the oil across the scars, fighting Zevlor's squirming the whole way. “So I'm allowed to do this later, then?” Giggling mirth filled the tent as they went, and Halsin might have snuck a few well-placed squeezes on purpose to hear more.

“You beast!” Zevlor was in a state, rolling and squirming around so much he wound up lying on his belly with his tail slashing through the air. “I, haHAAAhaha! It, it, it's EVERYWHERE!”

 Zevlor was squirming enough that Halsin had to grab and hold down the offending appendage so he could work, which made Zevlor practically vibrate in place. Apparently his back, full of scars as it was, was especially sensitive right above his tail. 

Unable to resist, Halsin purposely squeezed his sides above the hips. One wrist was quickly grabbed by Zevlor, whose face was twisted into embarrassed delight. “By Asmodeus, don't you bloody dare!”

But the druid had yet to hear one plead for it to stop. His fingers slid across the sensitive skin with ease, even as his own fingers began to tingle, because Zevlor had not once shown this much giddy joy in the months they'd known each other. His arms tried to grab Halsin's, but the druid was too quick and strong. 

“I may as well add, laughter is always the best medicine. Yours is especially infectious,” Halsin leaned down, trying to brush his lips over Zevlor's temple, but with all the squirming he hit an ear instead.

“HOO! Hoohoo! Aheheheh,” Zevlor slapped a hand over the ear, giggling as he tried to wave away Halsin's face. “Y-yohohou fiend! G-get this stuff, ahahahaha, off mehehe!”

Halsin chuckled and finally relented. He stood up straight above the tiefling's twitching form and began to utter the healing incantations. Zevlor's breathing was still uneven with the sensation overload, but once the spells were cast he rolled over onto his back again. He looked down and watched his deeper scars lighten in color, the minor scars disappearing altogether. 

“Oh,” He blinked once Halsin stopped glowing. “Oh, heh…Well, th-that does feel better…But I still feel ticklish.”

“Good,” Halsin chuckled warmly and reached his hand to help him sit up. “Once the oil absorbs through the spells, it stops. The only lingering effects are sensitivities that last a day. You'll be back to normal come tomorrow morning. Avoid direct sunlight and physical activities - although I've found that it heightens physical pleasures during this time.”

Zevlor hummed approvingly and stood, giving Halsin a knowing smile. “Oh you've found that out, have you?”

Halsin had to laugh in response. “Only if you consent, my dear. Just because I enjoy an activity does not mean that I will-”

“Hush,” He pressed his finger to Halsin's lips. “I would love to lie down on our softer blankets and enjoy your company.”

“Then let me walk you back to your room, my heart. We have the rest of the day for ourselves.”