#i cant believe i waited this long and did them so dirty oughh

[ghastigiggles]

ive just come across your blog and your fics are seriously the cutest… plus you’re a wlw writer!! hopefully you’re still doing the mischievous prompts, if you are… may i request lee!acheron x ler!blackswan with “and what are you going to do, tickle me?” I could totally imagine acheron saying this as a joke and blackswan’s face lighting up thinking actually… thats a great idea!

Mischievious Prompts [Temporarily Closed]

“It occurs to me,” Black Swan lilts, “That you aren’t often close with people. Physically.”

“It wouldn’t take a Memokeeper to figure that out.”

Her laugh is soft and melodic, a sound that makes Acheron shut her eyes, soothed and comforted; a latent part of her wonders if that’s just the effect a Memokeeper’s voice has on a person. Her heart knows it’s not. Either way, she could easily get used to the gentle pressure on her side, and the arm wrapped around her waist. The weight of the Memokeeper’s head on her shoulder.

“Where does this observation come from?”

“You seem tense, is all – even though you know I’m not a threat to you. My every touch is tender and sweet, yet you don’t seem to know how to take it. I don’t think it’s conscious on your behalf, but it affects you regardless. That much is plain.”

“Is it a problem?”

“I suppose not,” She concedes; “But I would like to help ease that tension for you. You deserve that much.”

The emanator opened her eyes at that, and tilted her head to inspect Black Swan with vacant curiosity. 

“And what are you going to do to achieve that?”

“Patience, my dear emanator.”

Black Swan purred into her ear, squeezing her gently in a sideways embrace that Acheron by no means hated. She felt the Memokeeper’s hand slide against her side, tugging her jacket back enough to expose the skin further – and Acheron didn’t stop her. 

The tracing started pleasant enough, a gentle rubbing that slowly got lighter and lighter, until it teased her nerves into a state of prickly unrest that made the corners of her mouth twitch unbidden and her arm start to fall in opposition.

“... Tickle me?”

The unsteadily spoken words were meant to be a continuation of her prior question – but Black Swan, with a gentle chuckle, took it as bait, digging in her fingers a bit more persistently to earn a quiet squeal from Acheron as the emanator jolted and folded against her, pressing into her body. 

“Gladly.”

She couldn’t say that it really relaxed her much at all, with how much she squirmed – but she relished every gentle touch regardless, and didn’t mind much about her loss of composure at all. She was simply glad it was the Memokeeper.