#mage hand tickles

[thelavendersquid]

*The M9 trying to figure out if Halas is unconscious or faking*

Me, thinking: “Try tickling him.”

Jester, seconds later: “Try tickling him!”

Me: 👉😎👉

[littlejuicebox]

Naughty or Nice?

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: The first winter post-BG3 / You became Astarion's consort and you're at a ball... he likes to toy with you. Rating/Warnings: M+ / Smut / Spoilers for the game / Cursing / Improper use of mage hand / BSDM vibes / Dom Astarion vibes / teasing, masturbation, overstimulation, exhibitionism, mentions of flogging, etc. Word Count: 3K Notes: This is 3/5 "Days of Star-mas!"

Click here to see my master list.

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Yet another holiday ball, how dreadfully boring.

You sigh as you tug on your dress for the millionth time before a sharp pinch on your rear stuns you into stillness. You let out a soft hum as you feel the warm breath of your lover against your ear, tickling your neck before he playfully nips at your ear lobe.

“Now be a good girl and quit fidgeting, my treasure. I want everyone to see how beautiful and desirable you look in that dress, and your hands keep getting in the way of such a delectable view.” Astarion chides, running his fingers down your bare spine, leaving a tingle of excitement in their absence.

You’re sat, as always, on the Vampire Ascendent’s lap; it’s quickly become a well-known peculiarity of your coupling that your ornate throne beside him hardly sees any use. You wriggle as the elf continues to wander his pale fingers up and down your spinal column. Apart from your neck, your back was Astarion’s favorite part of your body to display. Almost every gown he dressed you in nowadays, as his perfect, beautiful little doll, left that sinewy form around your spine well-exposed.

Tonight, he’d dressed you in another one of his custom, ridiculously expensive and more ridiculously provocative pieces, commissioned by one of Baldur’s Gate’s most revered clothiers.

The gown was a deep burgundy, hand draped to your curves and covered in countless glimmering crystals. A deep sweetheart neckline was barely held up by two dainty, useless straps. The back of the gown left your muscled form on full display; the final bits of your lower spine were partially obscured by a crossed set of laces, tied neatly in a bow and not leaving anything to the imagination as the skirt of the dress clung to your hips.

The Vampire Ascendent had called you the “perfect present” for his Midwinter Ball, and you were expected to play the part of his perfect consort as he presented you to several of the Guilds this party hosted.

Astarion’s hand grazes up your leg, fully exposed to him by the thigh high slit cut into the gown. You writhe as your lover teases you, letting out the softest gasp as his hand just barely brushes under the slit of your gown before traveling back down toward your knee.

“My perfect little present,” He murmurs as the music from the band swells, “Take a turnabout the room for me, little love. Let everyone feast their eyes on your beauty and covet what is mine.”

You knew the Vampire Ascendent always aimed to use you as a status symbol at these silly parties. You were quite the spectacle as the renowned hero of Baldur’s Gate turned into his obedient, and always provocatively dressed, consort. It was such a stark change from the heavily armored warrior woman you had been less than a year ago. The statue in the town square, made to your likeness, truly looked nothing like you anymore. You had been a fearsome, rugged, warrior… always caked in dirt and blood; but now, you were a perfect doll, always pristine and well-kept.

You groan, not really wanting to partake in the charade tonight, but Astarion gives you a little tut, and the sharp warning look on his face was enough to force you out into the crowd. The Vampire Lord may have a soft spot for his consort, but he was not above punishing her, if need be.

You slink off your lover’s lap and saunter about the Great Hall, gold chalice in hand, politely nodding here and there to several of the guild members that meet your gaze. More of them, you notice, are too distracted by the high cut of your gown and the spilling of your cleavage to actually meet your eyes. Typical.

Soon enough your pathway is interrupted by the leader of one of the Mercantile Guilds, a tall blonde human woman with an accent, whose name you’ve all but forgotten. You truly had no interest in the elbow rubbing and political chess matches that occurred at these soirées.

“Lady Ancunin… I was hoping for a moment to speak with you.”

The woman begins to ramble on, promoting her Guild, which currently holds control over majority of the sea trade to and from Baldur’s Gate. She is expressing concern over a smaller, but growing, faction and asking for support from the Ancunin House. You find the entire thing unbelievably boring, and barely stifle a yawn.

Suddenly, you hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, and your attention shoots to the high table where the vampire is lounging in his throne, sipping from a chalice, his scarlet eyes locked on you. It’s clear the lady merchant is none the wiser as she babbles on, and you soon realize the Vampire Lord is communicating to you through your blood bond.

“Now, now, little love. Pay attention and look interested. You know as well as I do that Lady Beauchamp prefers to use you as the middle person in our dealings, hoping your supposed “mutual alignment” as the "fairer sex" works in her favor. Perhaps you require a bit more… stimulation to keep you from looking so terribly bored.”

His voice reverberates through your mind, enveloping your psyche in a lover’s caress that quickly causes you to become slick with desire. You watch Astarion subtly snap his fingers at the high table, and shudder as you feel the cold tracings of a finger along your spine — an invisible mage hand, no doubt. Your eyes widen and flicker from Lady Beauchamp and back to your lover, where he is smirking in twisted delight before he turns away from you to laugh at some comment made by another one of the nobles.

The tall guild leader continues, “So, as you can see, Lady Ancunin… this faction is cause for— are you alright?”

You’re trembling as you attempt to hold some level of control over your reactions. How could he toy with you like this? The invisible mage hand has now trailed underneath your gown and started petting your barren slit with two cold, invisible fingers. Damn Astarion for never allowing you to wear undergarments and compelling you to take them off every time you tried to preserve a modicum of your own dignity.

You cough, trying to cover up the gasp that so desperately wanted to escape your throat. “Y-yes Lady Beauchamp, my apologies, it’s a bit cold in here what with the winter air. Please do continue… w-what is it you’re asking of our House?”

Lady Beauchamp’s eyes flicker over your scant, silken gown and you catch a glimpse of judgement in her eyes; you know she thinks you improperly clothed for the season. But she’s wise enough to hold back any comments and instead continues on with her end of the conversation, pleading her case for aid to you.

You are held as a hostage to your own arousal, thighs trembling as you are held on an edge your lover will not allow you jump off of. You wring your hands on the stem of your goblet, nodding at the merchant woman and trying your hardest to feign interest.

Gods you were dripping. You absently wonder if the signs of your arousal were becoming visible through your gown. Your eyes flit back to Astarion, and his gaze is fixed on you once again, a cocky eyebrow raised as he traces the rim of his goblet with one slender finger. You’re silently pleading with the Vampire Ascendent for mercy with your wide eyes and all he does is chuckle and shake his head, eyes crinkling in dark delight.

No. There would be no mercy. You feel the slickness dripping down your thighs as the mage hand plunges into you and you roll your eyes up to the ceiling as you stifle a moan.

“So… what do you think?” Lady Beauchamp asks, her head tilted in confusion. You realized too late that she’d been waiting for your answer, and that the pause in conversation had become uncomfortable enough for her to prompt you.

You nod your head slightly, barely able to breathe as you form the next sentence. The mage hand was back to stroking between your folds, and as you barely catch the scent of your own arousal, you worry that Lady Beauchamp would soon smell you, too. “I-it is much to consider, but I will plead your case to Lord Ancunin. Now I apologize but if you’ll excuse me, my husband has beckoned for me at the high table.”

Astarion has, of course, done no such thing. But you swiftly exit the conversation with the Guild leader and head back towards the Vampire Ascendent.

When you finally make your way back to your lover, he grabs your trembling hand in his own solid, strong one. He possessively tugs you closer to him, and then the Vampire Lord plants a kiss to your knuckle. He smirks mischievously, eyebrow cocking as he flits his hungry eyes to your groin. The mage hand is still continuing its ministrations and has now started to lazily circle your sensitive little nub.

“I can smell you, my treasure… and see your little trembles as you try so hard to be a good girl and keep it together. Absolutely delicious. What a tempting little treat… look at you, with your cheeks all flushed.” He coos, scarlet eyes moving up to look into yours. When you meet his gaze, you see hints of dark, possessive desire in his eyes... and a bit of sadistic pleasure as he witnesses your suffering.

You moan as the mage hand plunges into you once more, and even though the high table is now barren as everyone else has swarmed to the dance floor, you feel the pricked heat of embarrassment spreading across your face.

Astarion chuckles and drops your hand before running his fingers up your exposed thigh. “I think you’ve been a good little pet tonight. And you will soon get your reward. Go to the bedchambers and wait for me... I’ll send the mage hand with you to keep you company, of course.”

All you can do is nod your head, before turning on your heels and swiftly exiting the ballroom. You nearly sprint to your bedchambers, certain now that the evidence of your arousal is seeping onto the gown. As you enter the bedroom, you move to rip your gown off, but the mage hand swats your hands away from the laces. It seemed the Vampire Lord wanted to be the one to unwrap his little present tonight.

For a moment you consider touching yourself, but as soon as the thought crosses your mind, you hear Astarion’s tut of disapproval within your psyche.

“Now, now, little vampling. Be a good girl and wait. Before I’m forced to have the mage hand bring out the flog."

You whine in desperation again and hear that dark chuckle within your mind. The mage hand is continuing its ministrations, now aggressively teasing your nipples as you settle yourself on the bed to wait for your lover. Your entire body is wracked with overwhelming desire, every inch of you trembling as the invisible hand continues its torture.

“How long will I have to wait?” You breathlessly ask to the air, but you know that Astarion is always listening. There is a beat of silence where you think perhaps the Vampire Lord is purposely ignoring you, but then he responds, clearly entertained by your little predicament.

“Oh… not much longer, my treasure. Patience is a virtue. I’ll see you at the end of the party.”

The party wasn’t set to end for another hour. You nearly scream in anguish as another dark chuckle caresses your mind. Pinpricks of frustrated tears begin to form as you wiggle with the mixture of anticipation and overstimulation. Gods you wanted to touch yourself so badly; you were wringing your hands together to avoid the temptation.

“Little love… it is up to you if you’re going to be naughty or nice. But you know what I will be forced to do, should you choose to be naughty.”

You whine again. An hour… you could withstand the torture for an hour, couldn’t you? Surely you could choose to be nice.

And hells, if you chose to be naughty… the pain was always worth the pleasure, in the end.

[thegnomelord]

Got an idea for prompt #20. Ghost, Price and male reader for monster au with reader wanting to try giving up control for once

Sure thing mate! I kinda got ahead of myself lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Trusting enough to give up control

CW: NSFW, Dom dragon Price, Switch wraith Ghost, Sub male mage Reader, Monster au, collars, blowjobs, Dom/Sub, praise kink.

You don't have a right to feel apprehensive; you suggested this after all, but your fingers tremble as you trace the leather inscribed with anti-magic runes. The collar should feel comfortable around your neck, you know because you touched the leather a thousand times before even humoring the idea of putting it on... but the idea of being without magic — completely defenseless — arouses and scares the shit out of you.

A blackened hand grips your jaw almost too tenderly, tilting your head up so you meet Simon's gaze. "Havin' second thoughts?" He presses closer to you until he's bullied his way between your legs with his knees spreading your own, boxers retaining all of your modesties for now.

You give a small sound, neither confirming nor denying. It earns you a weak slap to the inner thigh from Price's tail, his chest and your back fitting together like puzzle pieces. "There's no shame in backing out." He purrs, sharp talons gently massaging the sting out of your thigh while his tail curls around your shin. "But we need you to be vocal lad-" He takes the collar from your hand, "-do you want this?"

"Get on with it." You snap before you can chicken out, breathing in to calm your nerves. "...please."

The last word has Price rewarding you by groping your cock. "Good boy," Simon looks at him for permission, his lips sealing over yours to swallow your groan as soon as it's given. Your teeth click together, his kisses always so aggressive and demanding that you almost forget about the collar until you feel the cold buckle against your skin.

The effect is immediate; an unpleasant jolt rushes down your spine to flood every vertebrae with a bone gnawing cold, a heavy fog settling over a portion of your mind. The leather puts resistance on your throat as you breathe as if to mock you for your choice, reminding of how weak you are, how useless-

Price places a gentle kiss on your cheek, his beard tickling your skin and claws carding through your hair. "Color?"

Simon's hands grope your sides, the collar turning even the wraith's freezing hands blessedly warm. "Go on, use that pretty mind for us." He orders in a gruffer voice, his lips still close to yours.

"Green," You suck in a small breathe, goosebumps spreading across your skin. "Just cold."

Simon presses even closer to you, burning lips taking your breath away so he can nibble on your lip. "Can't have that, can we Captain?" He smirks, ignoring you to look at Price. "'specially when our boy's being so docile."

"'s that so?" You notice how Price keeps a possessive hand over your throat, one finger hooked underneath the collar. "D'you think you've earned a reward?" He asks, his other hand tracing down your front to play with the band of your boxers.

"Please." The word escapes your throat before your mind can even finish processing the question.

"Good boy," Prices loves the way you shiver, loves the sight of you so open and vulnerable just for them; he catches Simon licking his lips. "Go on then Simon," His hand slides beneath your boxers to push the band down until your cock springs out. "'m sure you're hungry." Just seeing your rock hard cock throb when he swipes his roughly scared thumb across the head has Price's own dick go hard.

"I'm not the only one." Simon rumbles and bites your collarbone, leaving a trail of dark hickeys and teeth imprints across your front until he's face to face with your aching cock. "Fuck, such an adorable thing." He growls against the meat of your thigh, biting you there just so he can see a drop of pre-cum bead atop your cock head. "Should keep a collar 'round your neck all the time so you can be pretty and pliant for us."

"Simon-" The width of his shoulders and Price's tail around your shin keeps you from closing your legs, embarrassment making your cheeks burn hot. "-you fucker," You growl and attempt to grab his hair so you can get his mouth where you need it.

You yelp when Price slaps your cock with his tail, pain and pleasure flaring up your spine. "None of that." Price growls, keeping a hand on your collar and pinning your hands to your stomach with the other. "Play nice-" His eyes shift to Simon's. "-both of you."

"Yes sir." Simon relents, grabbing a hold of your cock your eyes close as he licks from your base to the tip of your cock. A little squeeze of Price's hand has your eyes snapping open just in time to see Simon's monstrously long tongue loll out of his mouth, wrapping and stroking your shaft as he suckles your head, drool and your pre-cum staining his chin.

"Good boys." Price rumbles as your head falls back on his shoulder, barely able to keep your eyes open as Simon sucks you like a trained whore, leaving fingerprint bruises while he holds your hips down from bucking. "Simon feels good, doesn't he?" You nod your head, hissing when Simon suddenly swallows you down to the base; Wraiths don't need to breathe and Simon takes full advantage of that fact by swallowing around you, hot throat spasming and long tongue stroking the sensitive veins along your cock.

"Go on sweetheart." Price nibbles on your ear as you shake and try not to cum quickly like a teenager but it's a loosing battle, Simon's hot mouth and the dark look he gives as he stares at you has you tumbling towards orgasm faster than anything else. "No need to hold on." He lets go off your hands to push Simon's head even further down on your cock, until your tip's pocking the back of his throat.

Price's permission is all it takes, the building heat in your stomach spilling over the sides as you cum, your hips uselessly bucking against Simon's hold as you cum down his throat. Simon doesn't even choke, throat constricting and milking you for all you have, continuing to suckle until you grow soft in his mouth.

You're barely lucid when Simon finally pulls off, cum and drool bridging his lips with the tip of your cock, your body completely boneless but still able to twitch as Simon licks the residual cum from your oversensitive dick.

"Good boy." Price praises and you can feel his own hard cock poke into your ass. "I think he can go again, don't you, Simon?"

Simon smirks and raises to give you a sloppy kiss, your brain too melted into mush to care about the taste of your cum on his tongue. "Oh-" Simon's hand sneaks down to stroke your soft cock back to harness, ignoring your pitiful whining. "-I think he can."

[baldurs-gape]

Worry Worms

A little shared fact about the party was that the worms were in communication with each other. Even with the Emperor's protection, the group were bound in a way, their worms connected to each other. Sometimes it was awkward, other times funny and sometimes frustrating. Yet the worst were the moments where flashes of the past and the pain it held flashed through the group.

The first signs of a shared existence were the pang of hunger. It wasn't obvious to start with, everyone migrated to the supply packs for snacks and ate with more gusto. Yet the hunger was left unsated. Bickering turned to annoyed disagreements and huffy sulks. Lae'zel refused to even look at Shadowheart over the simple fact that the berries they'd had stashed away were now mixed with nuts.

"Perhaps we ought to ask Astarion to feed?" Wyll muttered to Karlach quietly. "It's driving me insane."

"Urgh, yes. I can't eat another mouthful but I'm still starving. Is this what being a vampire is like?"

"Like what?" Astarion sauntered up to them, thumb rubbing at the corner of his mouth as though wiping away the last dribbles of blood after feeding.

An awkward silence held them all in suspense until Wyll cleared his throat. "This hunger. Is this your day to day experience?"

Of all the thing they expected, an honest laugh was not on the list. Astarion wasn't even mocking them, he was genuinely tickled by the question.

"Darling, this hunger isn't mine. It has been dogging me as much as you by the sounds of it."

Which just left one real suspect. The one who had been most graceful at handling the sudden affliction. That evening Gale sheepishly admitted to his affliction. Once he'd consumed a locket, the hunger faded from all their minds.

If only things could be as simple. For a while it seemed like it was. The weather was gorgeous, sun bright and hot. It burned fiercely as they wandered along their path. Armour was slowly stripped, so were clothes where possible. Any stream they crossed, most of them dipped into it with sighs of relief.

"It's hot as the hells themselves." Wyll was neck deep in a clear pool, eyes closed and head tipped back.

Looking around at the various states of undress and sweatiness, Karlach gnawed at her bottom lip.

"Literally. The old engine's been getting a bit too much. My bad."

"This is your doing?" Astarion whirled to look at her. "I haven't felt like this in two hundred years!" Despite not sweating like the others, his hair looked a little lacklustre and flat compared to its usual near-perfection.

"As I said-"

"Don't. I've missed this. Don't change."

Karlach's mouth snapped shut as she nodded and made a mental note to maybe linger closer to Astarion on nights where he looked more cold and alone.

Their adventures carried on. They bore the shared echoes of neck pain and head aches as Wyll got used to his new horns. Gale's mage hand was perfect to for those who preferred not to be touched and Karlach was more than happy to put her rather warm hands to good use too. Given her own horn, she was all too familiar with what muscles could cramp and hurt. Wyll was especially grateful for such knowledge.

Along the way they collected Halsin who was more than happy to tag along on the quest. Nobody was tactless enough to mention how he and Astarion gravitated towards each other, circling in tighter and tigther circles. They all pretended to believe Halsin's reasons were purely altruistic and maybe with a small amount of desire to learn. Nor did anyone mention that Astarion's tent had a tendency to be set up and then abandoned as he spent nights in Halsin's. It was a small comfort and they all knew they needed as much of that as they could get.

Nights tended to be rather monotonous. Once dinner had been eaten, they all drifted off to their respective tents for rest. Sleep came easy enough, so did the nightmares. Flashes of pain and terror. Revulsion and depseration. Hopelessness that hollowed out everything which was only filled by fear tamped rage. Lae'zel was the first to wake, cursing Shar and all she made her followers endure. Determined to wake Shadowheart, she left her tent. Only, Shadowheart was already by the dwindling fire, haggard and scratching at her back.

"Is this not the doing of your goddess?"

"She's much more thorough in taking the memories." The disdain in Shadowheart's voice was a blanket to hide her own discomfort. While awake, the flashes from the worm were no less distressing but the light of the fire helped a little.

"So who-"

Gale stumbled out of his tent and retched as a particularly sordid kind of pain echoed through them all. They all shivered in unison at it.

"We need to wake him." Even as he spoke, the worm allowed more memories to play out in their minds. "He wouldn't want us to know this."

"I don't want to know this," Karlach's voice joined. Next to her, Wyll looked harrowed.

As one they traipsed to the edge of camp where Halsin's tent had been set up. He was dozing, curled around Astarion with a smile on his lips.

"Hush, he's finally trancing." Warm pride made Halsin's words drip with affection. "Said he'd not done it since before being turned."

"With good reason. Wake him up." Wyll winced as new pains from relieved memories curled through him.

Resisting, Halsin watched the group and pulled Astarion into a protective embrace. The broke 'please' from Gale was what did it in the end.

It didn't take much more than a gentle brush of lips to his forehead and Astarion blinked awake. His worm silenced but not before a flash of panic could be felt by all as he stared up at the gathered group.

"I know I'm in high demand, but could we keep it to one or two at a time so I can make sure you all have a good time?"

If only it had been a joke. Before it would have been taken as one. Now though, the truth of his fawning in face of fear was all too easy to see.

"We just-" Gale seemed at a loss for words.

"They wanted to wish you a good night," Halsin helped out, even though he still wasn't quite sure what was going on. "And to make sure you're okay."

Tight blankness smoothed out Astarion's expression. He knew the others saw the memories his trance he brought to life. "Was I-" breaking off, he steeled himself, "Did I make noise to wake you all?"

"You were very peaceful, little heart." Halsin smiled at him and tucked him back against his chest. "Rest some more. I'm sure the rest of this conversation can wait until the morning."

Dismissed, the others filed out of the tent. They didn't sleep easy, kept up by the nightmare fuel of what they'd seen. At least Astarion didn't trance again so no more memories bled through into their shared connection. Come morning, nobody said anything. But if they were a little more gentle with Astarion after that, that was their own business and nobody else's.

[intheticklecloset]

Intimate (Black Clover)

Summary: Leo accidentally hurts Yuno during a sparring match. While assessing the damage, he also accidentally discovers something rather adorable about the boy he likes.

A/N: This one is especially for @giggly-squiggily! I must admit, to this day this remains my favorite YunLeo piece I've written for you. I hope you enjoy it as well, friend! 💖

Word Count: 1353

~~~

Leo sprinted toward the heap on the ground. “Yuno! Oh my gosh, did I hurt you?”

The wind mage stifled a groan as he pushed up onto his knees. “Of course not. Takes more than that to knock me down. Ouch!” As soon as he put weight on his right knee, a sharp pain jolted through his body and he rolled over so he was sitting instead of kneeling, gritting his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You are not! I hurt you!” Leo looked distraught, and it only made Yuno more determined to appear strong for him. The redhead knelt beside him. “Let me see.”

“I’m fine—” Yuno trailed off, his words abandoning him when Leo traced his fingers along his knee in a gentle caress. He swallowed.

Leo gave the tiniest squeeze, trying to determine how bad he’d screwed up, and Yuno jerked and let out a gasp, yanking his leg away. “Gods, Yuno, I’m so sorry. Let me see how bad it is.”

Yuno shied away from him. “N-No! It’s fine! I’m fine, just…don’t worry about it. I can always see Mimosa.”

Something flashed in Leo’s eyes and he frowned. “I want to take care of you too, you know.”

“I…uh,” Yuno stammered.

“Please, let me help.”

Well…crap. The wind mage swallowed again but nodded hesitantly, allowing Leo to grab onto his knee and press in gently, searching for the source of the pain. Yuno grunted and slapped a hand over his mouth, scrunching his eyes shut in a way that made Leo’s heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” the fire mage said again, his voice quieter now.

“I’m fine, I’m really fine,” Yuno insisted behind his hand.

It was only then that Leo noticed how red his cheeks were. “Yuno?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you…blushing?”

“No!” The reply was fast – way too fast.

Leo blinked, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Ooh, I got you flustered? How did I do that?”

Yuno scrambled for an answer. “Y-You…you’re caressing my leg like we’re…” He would not say lovers. He would not. “It’s…kind of intimate…”

“Ah.” Leo withdrew his hand and nodded. “Right…sorry.”

“I mean, I don’t…don’t mind,” Yuno muttered the last words so quiet he almost couldn’t be heard.

“But you said—”

“I don’t mind,” Yuno insisted, grabbing onto Leo’s hand before he could think better of it.

For a moment, they were frozen like that, hands atop one another’s, staring at them like they were foreign objects.

Then Leo’s mischievous grin returned and he let go only to gently grasp either side of Yuno’s hurt leg, caressing with intention now. “You don’t mind, eh?”

Yuno’s eyes went wide and he forgot how to breathe, but he nodded. Leopold gently trailed his fingers up and down his calf and shin, but when he got close to the backside of Yuno’s knee, the wind mage couldn’t help but gasp and try to pull away again.

Leo chuckled, though his smile faltered. “Maybe this is too much too fast, Yuno…”

“It tickles.”

The words were barely a whisper – the softest of admissions – but the redhead heard it, and he stopped, staring. “Say what?”

“I’m not pulling away because I don’t like it.” Yuno was back to blushing furiously, averting his eyes in that way he did when he was nervous. “My knee…it tickles.”

“I thought you were hurt?”

“I…I am. But…”

Leo grinned. “I see. Tickles, huh? But I really did hurt you?”

Yuno huffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not that bad.”

“All right, all right. But your other knee isn’t hurt.”

By the time Yuno realized what he was implying, it was too late. Leo grabbed his other leg and held it firmly in place while skittering his fingers along his kneecap, and the dark haired boy gasped and burst into giggles, unable to help it.

“Nohohoho! Hey!”

“You’ve got ticklish legs? That’s cute,” Leo hummed, slipping around to his knee pit. He beamed at Yuno’s following squeal and harder snickering. “Where do you think you’re going? Can’t get away from me with a bum leg, can you, hot stuff?”

“Y-Yohohohou’re the one whohohohoho’s hohohohot!” Yuno cackled. Then he realized what he’d said and his eyes went wide. “I m-mehehehehean—! Your mahahahahagic!”

“Sure, sure. Just my magic.”

He kept up the light scribbling under Yuno’s knee for a few moments, then switched tactics by slipping between his legs and scratching at his thighs instead. The way the wind mage blushed and visibly sputtered at the intimate move was absolutely everything.

“Stohohohohohop!” Yuno cried, struggling to stay upright at this point. “Leheheheheheo!”

“Aww, someone’s a little sensitive, huh? Tickle, tickle~”

Yuno whined and tried grabbing onto the lapels of Leo’s uniform, but the redhead suddenly grabbed his hips and squeezed and Yuno finally fell back instead, giggling loudly and kicking his good leg in the air desperately. “Nohohohohoho!”

“It’s good to see you laughing,” Leo said seriously even as he grinned at the darker boy, pinching and squeezing his hips and waist mercilessly. “You’re always so serious.”

Yuno clamped shaking hands on Leo’s wrists as he squealed and cackled, shaking his head while that dark blush returned. “Leheheheheheo!”

“You know, you said you didn’t mind that I was being so familiar. I wonder if that means you don’t mind this, either? You sure don’t seem all that desperate to get away from my tickly clutches~”

“You mehehehehehehenace!”

“I’m not hearing a retort~”

Yuno had to admit, he really didn’t mind this. It was embarrassing and his right knee was killing him, but having Leo looming over him like this, making him laugh so freely like this, teasing him like this – he didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

“Plehehehehease!” he whined, still holding the redhead’s wrists but not trying to stop him. “Leo, plehehehehehease!”

Leo smirked and began clawing his way further up, squeezing his sides now. “Hmm? Is that a desperate plea for me to keep going that I hear, Yuno?”

Yuno couldn’t even answer for how his giggling was bordering on laughter now, his mind a happy mush.

“If you’re interested, I can always take it a little further…” Leo teased, leaning down so they were nose to nose. “Gods, I want to kiss that laughter coming out of you.”

“Leheheheheheheo!” Yuno pleaded, then – before he could hesitate – grabbed onto the redhead’s neck and pulled him down so their lips collided. Leo never let up tickling him, though, which was both the best and worst thing about this moment.

“Mmm,” Leo hummed happily, suddenly darting his tickling fingers up to Yuno’s ribs with no warning.

Yuno wrenched his mouth away from his and burst into laughter for the first time, arching into his touch and squirming wildly on the ground. “AHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO!! NOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“Ooh, not here? Not riiiiight here?” Leo teased wickedly. He latched onto Yuno’s ribs and drilled with a vengeance, leaning down to capture his lips again and silence his pleas.

Yuno screeched and laughed into their kiss, writhing in ticklish agony, able to withstand only a few seconds before tossing his head back to scream, “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAP, LEO!! LEHEHEHEHEHEO!!”

The redhead had moved his kisses to Yuno’s neck, and that did it – the wind mage simply could not take any more. He frantically clawed at Leo’s uniform and laughed his heart out, begging for mercy all the while, and finally – after what felt like hours but was only another minute – Leo let up on his attack.

Yuno collapsed against the ground in a giggly heap, shakily prying his assailant’s hands away. Leo took the opportunity to lace their fingers together and push them above their heads, pinning Yuno in an entirely different way.

“You’re cute,” he said, once again hovering just above him so they were nose to nose.

Yuno chuckled. “Shut up.”

“You’re also hurt.”

“…yeah, I know.”

“So, what do you say I valiantly sweep you up in my arms and carry you to a healer?”

“I can walk just fine,” Yuno retorted, though his grin gave him away.

Leo leaned in even closer, eyes ablaze. “Not after I’m done with you.”

And he kissed him again.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

The king's gift

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 24

Prompt: Birthday

Rated: T

CW: veeery light dubcon if you squint really hard; mild blood and violence

Tags: Time Travel; Magic AU; Fantasy AU; Royal Eddie; Time traveller Steve

Notes: Continued from day 15

A bird is singing outside the window, a cheerful melody of trills and chirps celebrating the sunshine. 

Steve is gonna murder it. 

The sun, too, while he's at it. 

Even with his lids shut, the light feels like someone is trying to wedge a dagger into the space behind his eyes. Each new note from the stupid bird pounds in his skull like the blow of a hammer. 

Or the chime of a giant clock. 

He groans and scrubs a hand over his face as fuzzy memories trickle into his mind. Snarling monsters with giant fangs and claws, chasing him through the ruins of an ancient castle. A crumbling throne covered in vines, silver sigils glowing all around it. The sound of the clock in his bones, in his blood, and then … silence.

“Fucking hell … weirdest dream I've ever had.”

“Don't blame you,” someone says, and wait, he knows that voice. It was in the dream, too. “Making the acquaintance of those charming critters will do that to a guy.” 

Steve freezes.

Then, very slowly, he peers out from behind his hand. 

There's a guy in the bed with him, a vaguely familiar guy with long dark curls and eyes to match. He's lounging against the headboard, a book in his lap, but when he catches Steve gawking at him, he marks the page and puts it down on the nightstand. 

The very unfamiliar nightstand. Right next to the very unfamiliar bed they're in. 

“Hey, pretty thing,” the guy smiles, and one hand, heavily adorned in silver rings, tenderly smoothes Steve’s hair from his forehead. “Feeling better?” 

“The fuck?” Steve shoots upright. “Where the hell am I?” 

Because the room, as it turns out, is as unfamiliar as the bed. It looks like something out of the period pieces his mom watches - ornate furniture and plush carpets, walls covered in velvet tapestries. Like some medieval king's castle, and … 

… oh, no. 

No fucking way. 

“Careful now,” the guy chuckles good-naturedly and grabs him by the scruff of his shirt. “They did quite the number on you. My head mage patched you up, but you don't wanna overdo it.”

He makes to pull him back into the pillows, but Steve twists from his grip and jumps out of the bed, ignoring the wave of vertigo that comes with the movement. 

“Woah woah, wait!” he stammers. “What the fuck do you mean? That was real? What the hell is even- What am I wearing?” 

Because his jeans and tee are gone. Instead, he's in some sort of wide, billowy shirt. It flows around his form and ends somewhere around his very naked thighs. It has frills. 

He isn’t wearing anything else. 

“You were somewhat covered in blood, darling,” the man laughs. He languidly unfolds himself from the bed, one long limb at a time, and steps into Steve’s space. “Didn't wanna risk an infection. Also doesn’t befit my gift to run around like that, all dirtied and-” 

“Excuse the fuck outta me?” Steve squawks. “Your what?”

Anger flares low in his gut and he takes a step backwards. The man just smiles easily and follows, and then, suddenly, warm calloused hands are cradling his cheeks. 

“My gift, sweetheart,” he repeats, like that isn't something only a complete fucking lunatic would say. His thumbs idly stroke Steve’s cheekbones. “It's my birthday and the magic gave you to me, just like the oracle said it would. I've been waiting so long for you. Didn't expect you to be this gorgeous, but that's an added bonus, isn't it?” 

They're close, very close, so close that some errant strands of curly hair are tickling Steve’s flushed cheeks. And somehow the guy is still getting closer, head tilted ever so slightly, plush pink lips parted just enough to- 

Steve isn't a violent guy, usually, but … he's going through a lot right now and he's panicking, okay?

He doesn’t even consciously process what happens. Just knows that a stranger whose bed he woke up in and who just called him his fucking birthday gift is pulling him in for a kiss. One second later, his knuckles are hurting and said stranger is in a heap on the floor, wiping blood from his split lip. 

“Pretty and feisty,” he mutters. When he lifts his gaze, his eyes are full of awe. “You really are perfect, aren't you?” 

“What the fuck?” Steve blurts. Again. He's starting to lose count of how often it's been. “Who do you even think you are, you fucking weirdo?” 

The guy cocks his head in confusion, but only for a second. Then, that infuriating dimpled grin slips back on. He's handsome, in a dangerous and rugged way, with his wild hair and bruised lip. 

“Apologies, he rumbles. "Where are my manners?” 

And then, without getting up off the ground, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand in his. Steve watches, heart in his throat and eyes wide with confusion, how the guy bends into a dramatic bow and reverently kisses his own blood off his raw knuckles. 

“The name is Edward. King Edward Munson of the Woodland Mountains. Also oh-so-aptly known as Edward the Banished, though my friends just call me Eddie. And you, my dear …” 

He looks up at him, all glinting eyes under dark lashes and Steve needs to swallow against the lump clogging his throat. 

“You're going to be the one who saves me.”

All my holiday drabbles

[smokesandsonatas]

can i have some headcanons of what our twisted wonderland boys will do after they graduate? you can choose only 4 if there is a limit, thank you so much

Twisted Wonderland characters after their graduation at NRC

- This really tickled my brain so I'm going to write assumptions for everyone. I drafted this around last year then only got to post this right now, haha. -

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

After his graduation from NRC, and bagging home the highest honor for an exceptional mage, I can see Riddle furthering his education. If there's such a thing as Ph.D. in Twisted Wonderland, Riddle will pursue that. I can also see him becoming a "Double Doctor," a medical doctor, and a doctor of Philosophy. Not only that but Riddle will also pursue law, along with magical medicine. A doctor and a lawyer, all in one. Riddle would go on to be an internationally recognized mage. He will also be an advocate of Mental Health education, fueled by his past and his mission to never let anyone experience what he went through.

Ace Trappola

I can honestly say I see him being recognized as a famous basketball player or entering the military enforcement of Queendom of Roses along with Deuce. Occasionally, Ace will perform magic tricks along with his brother, which is always a hit of course, someone even offered the Trappola brothers to appear in a reality show but Ace had other plans. In his 3rd year, he will become the Dorm leader of Heartslabyul, while Deuce will be his vice.

Deuce Spade

Will become a high-ranking magical enforcer, his salary will allow him and his family to live comfortably, especially his mom. Once the Queendom of Roses gave Deuce an award as the 'Hero of the Year,' he broke down into tears as he hugged his mom. Will be buddies forever with Ace.

Cater Diamond

Will be a famous vlogger. Be it traveling or fashion, Cater will be a famous influencer. He will also have a successful studio with workshops on how to run a magicam account successfully. If there's a fashion show, he would always be on the VIP list, as he is acquainted with Vil. If he feels burned out, he'll try to stay away from social media. If Cater can't form long relationships, he'll just leave his mark in the world with his vlogs. #LonelyButNotReally

Trey Clover

Owner of a famous bakeshop. His family's shop will prosper under his guidance. On every occasion, their sweets will sold out. One time a magazine listed Trey as the "sexiest pastry chef," and Cater and his other friends will never let him live with it. The Clover's Bakeshop occasionally partners with Mostro Lounge, and when they do, everything sells out within seconds.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

He does not need to work, but he is a genius as Leona is still a prince of a noble family. Have you seen those alpha males ads? Leona will be all of that. A CEO of his own company and at the same time a diplomat of Sunset Savannah to other nations. His business started out as a mining corporation, gradually expanding into construction. A noble man who many people - beastmen and beastwomen - fawn over with. A millionaire. A bachelor. Once, Farena, the current king and his older brother, called to meet with him and Leona put harshly down the phone. Leona's reason for doing this? When he realized that Farena tried to marry him off to a noble from some rich kingdom 'for his future'. Leona's reply? Is a simple scoff and a very deep, "Fuck off."

Ruggie Bucchi

Will be an assistant to Leona. The next generation of Hyenas will not experience poverty as Ruggie did. His all-around skills will come in handy as a secretary. Ruggie will be a finance speaker. He will sometimes get his hands dirty. What? Hyenas are used to it. Fear not, he's still the same old Ruggie, just a little more rich.

Jack Howl

After graduation, Jack will get a lot of offers to be a professional magift player. Leona will offer to sponsor him tho, so he doesn't need to worry about financial things. Will be an advocate of physical health, his muscular physique is no joke. I can see Jack being a well-known magift player and a track and field competitor, with the help of Prof. Vargas as a head coach.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

In every nation, there's a branch of Mostro Lounge. Azul will be listed as the "Top 100 most successful bachelors," along with Jade, possibly Floyd, Vil, and Leona. Azul would go on to accumulate a lot of awards for his splendid business skills. Will own a share in almost all known companies. He'll have to pull strings from Idia to let him invest or buy shares from Jupiter Enterprises. Azul will be compared to the Sea Witch due to how influential he is. Once his mother passed him their restaurant in the Coral Sea, Azul's work will quadruple, and so is his income. Because of him, the mermen's view of octomerpeople will change. But for a darker secret, Azul will be known as the Mediator, and every Mostro Lounge place will be known as a neutral territory for members of the 'other' world. Of course, the Leech twins will still stick with him.

Jade Leech

Jade will inherit their Father's mafia legacy, along with Floyd. The Leech family will prosper under the twins' rule. Jade will open a mushroom business, as to what kind of mushrooms he's selling Jade will smile in response and say it's a fresh mushroom from the mountain. Jade's favorite base of operation would be on land, it's just more fun and chaotic when he watches humans stutter and pass out once he interrogates them. Jade will work as Azul's concierge, working for both him and the Leech family. And in the morning, he'll be the vice manager of Mostro Lounge. But sometimes it does get a little boring. Once a company famous for being greedy with their demands easily relents when they realize it is The Jade Leech that will conduct business with them. Such a shame, Jade would've loved to see the look on their faces.

Floyd Leech

Floyd would be proud of his shoe collection! By now he would have a hundred pair of shoes. Of course, he's still with Jade and Azul, acting as the brawns of the trio. He will make it a point with them to only give him interesting jobs, if it's boring? Floyd would abandon that. One time he learned to drive, he brought his sports car to another country and accidentally got pulled over in the Queendom of Roses, to his surprise it is Mackerel (Deuce) who pulled him over! Floyd paid for the ticket and then went on to hang out with him. Floyd's favorite part of his job is squeezing everyone that owes them unpaid debts!

Though Floyd just doesn't understand why Momma Leech wants to introduce him to a mermaid. Jade is laughing at first, but not anymore once his twin realized that their Momma intends to introduce him to a mermaid too! Floyd will never forget the look on Jade's face - that's probably reflected on him - once their Momma gushes over about 'baby eels'. What? Mermaid eels have little populations. They have to do their part, don't they?

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim inherited his father's multi-million business. Through his easygoing personality, Kalim is well-loved by everyone. He established business trade routes with almost every nation, while still honoring his personal ones. An example is with the Felmier's, so that their apples will be enjoyed by everyone in Scarabia. The threats grew along with the Asim's already immense wealth. Don't worry, Kalim by now, will know how to defend himself using his unique magic. He just had to know how to reply with the various marriage proposals going his way, it pains Kalim to reject every single one, you know.

Jamil Viper

After his graduation at NRC, Jamil would take a year or two for himself. He will travel across Twisted Wonderland, and by this time Jamil's perception of the world would change. Finally prioritizing himself and is selfish for once. When he will come back, however, he will be met with a warm welcome from the citizens of Scalding Sands and the Asim and Viper family. Jamil would go on to become a successful businessman and bodyguard best friend of Kalim. But this time, they're on equal footing.

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

There's no spotlight if there's no Vil Schoenheit. He will become the highest-paid actor for straight 5 years, until Neige just slightly beats him, running off a few hundred thousand madol. But in the same year, Neige surpassed him in pay, Vil went on to win the Best Actor award for his work in a movie as a misunderstood villain protagonist. His movie even screened in the coral sea! As if there's no stopping him, his successful cosmetics company took off Twisted Wonderland by storm, his eye palette alone is sold out within seconds.

Rook Hunt

Oh dear, Rook will also inherit the Hunt's family business. One moment someone can see Rook in Quendom of Roses then the next he would be spotted on Sage Island. Of course, Rook will not stop admiring beauty and arts! He will fund archaeological studies, theater, art museums, galleries, and even beauty pageants. Rook will be one of the art and beauty industry's most important benefactors.

Epel Felmier

Will be known as the "pretty boy of magift." Not in a bad way, but more like a compliment. His talent is honed thanks to his NRC club. Sometimes Epel would attend fashion shows that present him as a "manly man", you know wearing suits and all of that. Because of his new-found fame, the Felmier's apple business will bloom, in part thanks to Kalim.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

Will become the head of S.T.Y.X, but will also manage the Shroud's position in Jupiter Enterprises. On top of that, Idia will develop one of the best MMORPG and FPS games Twisted Wonderland had ever seen. Additionally, Idia won't just stop in developing games, he will also develop magic-infused medical devices that will drastically change the healthcare industry, crediting the Idia Shroud for its invention.

Once a magazine included Idia in their "Top 100 most successful bachelors," he almost sued them if not for Azul, Ortho and his parents convincing him it's a good thing. But Momma and Papa Shroud can't help but wonder when will they have grandkids, the Shroud's need an heir to continue their duties, you know.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho will stay at his brother's side! But his looks will drastically change, if the Ortho from before looks young, the Ortho from the future will have a much taller body, but he will still regain his childlike curiosity. Only the future Ortho is more mature and more open to take time for himself. He will ask Idia to send him off to faraway lands to gather information and to also satiate his curiosity about the real world. Ortho will become independent yet still close to his brother.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

Malleus' coronation is one of the most liveliest and solemn celebrations Briar Valley had seen for the last 5 centuries. Under King Malleus' rule, his kingdom will prosper. Faes and humans alike will come to a much more common understanding. Although the valley still heavily relies on magic, technology will become available, as a courtesy of the friendship acquaintanceship of Idia.

On some days, Malleus will truly get busy. Managing a country and it's affairs is no small feat. Through trades and partnership with every Kingdom, from Savanaclaw to the Coral Sea courtesy of his two alumni schoolmates from NRC, Briar Valley will prosper. It just gets annoying sometimes when the news reporters, the common folk, the fae senators, and even his own grandmother will ask him about an heir. Malleus still needs to find someone who will stay by his side, and it's not an easy thing to do.

Lilia Vanrouge

Sweet old man Lilia is on his way to retirement. In the chapter of Diasomnia, we learned that his magic is running out. Well, all good things must come to an end. Though his eventual retirement in the Land of the Red Dragon came true, he still returned. And Lilia had his fair share of adventures. Because Malleus is busy with the preparations for his coronation, Lilia is there to help him. On the occasion he's free to do anything, Crowley offered him a teaching position in NRC, which is the spot left open by Professor Trein. Lilia accepted, and for a semester he become a teacher, quitting right after to attend Malleus' coronation.

Lilia liked to think a had lived a full life. He was it all. A fearsome general, a caretaker of the young prince, an adoring father, and a good friend.

Sebek Zigvolt

No one dares to Disrespect the King under my watch! That is what he would occasionally say. If one of Briar Valleys' own Fae advisors disrespects Malleus, expect Sebek to speak, and even draw his sword. Yes, he's part human and half Fae but that doesn't mean he's not powerful enough to defend the king.

With this Sebek will grow in closer relationship with his grandfather and his mortal dad. His parents' dentistry business will expand, and for some time Sebek's face is the model of it, which made him embarrassed, yet he still loves his parents nonetheless.

Silver

I can see Silver honoring his promise to Lilia and staying by Malleus'side. However, that is considering if his feelings don't change. Silver will quickly become one of Briar Valley's most beloved humans, and for some reason, he always gets mistaken as an RSA graduate. Once Vil invited him to cover for a sick model in a fashion show and he declined but Vil already presented his picture to the photographers. For some reason, his picture was leaked to the public and Silver's name is trending for days. Some say he's a child of the king, and others compare him to Neige's beauty. His face was everywhere in magicam, with the hashtags "the most handsome sleepy prince," and the "dreamy prince of dreams."

[angelatmidnight1]

A Helping Hand

A/N: This is just a self-indulgent fic I'm using as a springboard for another one. I'm in a Gale/Karlach/Astarion high right now. I'll get back to requests as soon as I can, and I hope you like the story!

Fandom- Baldur's Gate 3.

Pairing- Starts with Gale x Karlach (platonic, ler!Gale and lee!Karlach), and ends with Gale, Karlach, and Astarion (platonic, ler!Karlach, ler!Astarion, and lee!Gale).

Word Count- 2,532.

Warnings- Situated in Act 3 so potential for spoilers, also tickling and swearing.

Gale finally shows Karlach how to cast Mage Hand, another avenue of touch, and she’s thrilled by the doors it opens up. He invites her to explore touch with him and doesn’t account for her using it for more playful, nefarious reasons, like tickling. And, just when it couldn’t get any more chaotic, Astarion invites himself in on the fun, too…

“That’s it, Karlach. Try the incantation again.”

Gale spoke from behind the tiefling after he guided her hands into the right position. She was very warm to the touch, but touching her didn’t burn. Her engine was a source of curiosity for him ever since she’d joined the party way back when. But, instead of indulging that curiosity, he’d promised to show her how to cast Mage Hand. Karlach had gotten the incantation down more or less. He just had to make sure she had her hands in the right place. Magic was just as much a physical thing as a verbal one in Gale’s experience. 

Karlach rigidly held her hands in position and repeated the incantation. “Veniam Iuva Me..” Her eyes brightened when the spectral hand emerged in front of her. “I got it!”

“Excellent,” Gale smiled. “Now, with a flick of the wrist, or a thought even, the hand will do as you command. You can pick things up, throw them, push the unfortunate goblin to their death…”

Karlach wasn’t fully listening; instead, she flexed and curled her fingers, and the mage hand mirrored her. “Yeah. Woulda been nice to have one of these when I got back to the Sword Coast.” She replied. “At least I’d have been able to touch something..”

She guided the hand across the Elfsong Tavern and picked up a tankard. She brought it back over to her and took a sip of the ale, exhaling deeply. “Aw, man. A girl could get used to this..”

Gale chuckled and picked up his own glass of wine. “Learning cantrips are only the beginning of a lifelong journey with magic. Cheers to taking that first step.”

Karlach happily clinked her tankard with his glass. She took another sip, her eyes sparkling with genuine wonder and curiosity. “So, I can touch anything with this hand, right?”

“Most things,” he corrected. “The mage hand can take damage just as our own. So, you couldn’t grab, say, the blade end of a sword. But you could wield said sword as an extension of yourself. It’s very handy in that regard.”

“Gods, the puns.” Karlach snickered. “And yeah, I’ll be sure to have one of these around when we beat the Absolute’s ass. But uh, I was thinking more along the lines of being able to, you know, hold someone’s hand? Maybe caress a face or two?”

“Of course. Here, if you’d like, you can explore the mage hand’s capabilities with me.” He finished his wine and stood in front of her. He extended his own hand. “I’m more than willing to offer myself as a test subject in the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Really? That’d be awesome!” Karlach brought the hand to Gale’s, palm to palm. She interlocked her fingers and the mage hand, as well as Gale, followed suit. “Thank you, Gale.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Gale allowed Karlach to explore his hand with the spectral one, watching it stroke across his fingers. The barbarian hummed in thought and moved further up his arm. 

“So, what does this feel like?” She asked, moving the touches up to his wrist. “Doesn’t beat the real thing I suppose. But it is nice to have options.”

“Well, it’s very similar to the touch of another, minus the warmth of course.” Gale turned his palm towards the floor so she could go up his arm. “Maybe it is a lighter touch, too. Almost feather like..”

“Yeah?” When she reached his upper arm, she curled the fingers on the mage hand, gently squeezing into his skin. Gale fidgeted a little bit and exhaled through his nose. She raised a brow. “What? That doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No, quite the opposite, actually.” He chuckled. “Bit ticklish is all.”

“Huh.” Karlach hummed again, continuing to kneading into his upper arm. She smiled. “I didn’t really pick you as the ticklish type, with you being all proper and scholarly and whatnot.”

“Y-Yehehes, well…” Gale chuckled a bit more and tugged at his arm, but the mage hand held strong. After a few more attempts, Gale managed to get his arm free. “I can say with confidence that ticklishness doesn’t have a face. Why, even the strongest warriors can be—hey!”

 Instead of going for his arms again, Karlach brought the mage hand towards his torso, prodding into his side. Gale again jumped away from the ticklish touch and giggled louder. He backpedaled and wrapped a protective arm around his torso. “Now, Karlach,” he warned. He suddenly felt a bit playful and grinned. “Choose your next actions carefully. Should you try to tickle me again, I will have no choice but to retaliate.”

He stepped further away from her, his hands glowing with magic. Karlach followed after him, snickering. 

“Oh really?” Karlach challenged, returning the grin. “Heh, I’d like to see you try!”

Somewhere else in the tavern, sitting on his bed, was Astarion. His brow was knitted together in concentration as he sewed up a split seam on a shirt. Not his shirt, but Wyll’s. Now that they were back in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion believed looking the part was a high priority. He wouldn’t stand for his companions walking around in tattered clothes. Ideally, he’d find a clothing merchant and just steal their stuff, but he was willing to pace himself. He flinched when there was a sudden roar of laughter, Karlach’s laughter, and he grumbled under his breath. Did she always have to be so damn loud?

“Karlach, can you keep it down?” He called sharply. He refused to look up from what he was doing; he was nothing if not a perfectionist when it came to sewing. “Some of us have important things to do, and I need to concentrate.”

But instead of quieting down, Karlach’s laughter only got louder. A thud accompanied this wild laughter, and Astarion’s patience waned. He got up with a heavy sigh, putting his work on his end table. Then, he followed the source of the racket. 

When he got to the next room, Karlach was prone on the floor, laughing her head off. Gale sat beside her with a smug smirk. Karlach’s mage hand was gone, and there was a purple aura emanating off of her: Gale’s variation of a Hold Person spell. Instead of completely immobilizing her, she was able to squirm around, though she didn’t get very far. The first place he squeezed was her hips, a terribly ticklish spot, and he was still kneading into them when Astarion entered the room. 

“I warned you,” Gale was saying as he skittered his fingers across her torso. He honed in on her sides, and her loud laughter calmed into not as loud giggles. “We could’ve handled this civilly, but you forced my hand!”

Karlach squealed and wrestled with Gale’s hands, but her laughter had weakened her, and she was honestly having a blast. “Fahahahaha! I-I’ll gehehehet youhuhuhu bahahack! Youhuhuhu juhuhust wahahait!” 

“Unlikely,” Gale snickered. “But I do admire your resolve.”

That’s when he summoned another mage hand and used it to poke at her ribs. Karlach’s frantic giggling mingled with snorts. Astarion fondly shook his head as he watched from afar. 

“Having fun, darlings?” Astarion soon spoke over Karlach’s laughter. He stepped further into the room. He was initially annoyed,  but Karlach’s laugh was highly contagious. He had to expend a good deal of effort not to giggle along with her. “I was wondering why Karlach was laughing so hard. I figured someone told a joke, fell on their arse maybe. But no, you’re just…tickling her. Adorable I suppose, but why?”

Gale looked up, joining the mage hand in pinching and scritching over Karlach’s ribs. She yelled and rolled from one side to the other, trying to dodge the hands. “Because I made the generous offer to teach her a spell, and she decided to turn on me,” he explained.. “I responded in turn by giving her a taste of her own medicine.” 

“So I see,” Astarion hummed. “Well, I’d tell you two to keep it down, but that’s impossible with her hyena call. Maybe you’d like a hand?”

“NAAHAHOHOHO!” Karlach protested, shrieking when Gale’s hand jumped to her armpit. She immediately brought her arms down, trapping his hand, and her laughter went up two octaves. Gale continued to wriggle his fingers along her armpit, but having her arms down didn’t make it easy for him. He sent the mage hand to wrestle with her arm to try and pull it up. Gale regarded Astarion with a quick glance, nodding. 

“I certainly won’t turn down the help—”

“Not you, Gale.” Astarion scoffed. He walked towards the duo. “Why, our poor fiery friend is in stitches, and you have the advantage of having literal magic at your fingertips. Helping you wouldn’t even begin to even the playing field..”

 Gale’s gaze snapped back to the spawn. He halted his tickle attack, giving Karlach a break. “Now hang on, I wasn’t the one that started this.”

“But you are the one indirectly causing the noise, in a manner of speaking.” Astarion stepped with a purpose towards them. “I couldn’t even sew in peace.”

“That hardly seems fair!” Gale protested. Since he spent a lot of effort keeping Karlach in place and now had his sights on Astarion, both his concentration and his spell slots waned. That didn’t stop him from popping up from the floor and pointing a warning finger at him. “Don’t you dare, Astarion!”

Karlach  wrapped both arms around her torso as they bickered. She didn’t mind tickling in the slightest, but Gale wasn’t going to weasel his way out of her well deserved revenge. Especially when she now had a partner in crime. While she was laying on the floor, she grabbed a fistful of the end of Gale’s robe and pulled him down with her. Gale screamed and, before he knew it, Astarion was on him, too. 

“Get him!” Karlach shouted, easily tangling the wizard up in her arms. Astarion smirked and knelt beside them. He waited until she pulled his arms over his head to poke into his sides. Gale flinched and tried to lean away from the poke, but he only leaned further into Karlach’s arms.

“Nohoho no no! AhAHah! Wahahait!” Gale yelped and squirmed as Astarion continued to prod into his sides, his frantic giggles already threatening to jump to laughter. “Two against one is nohohot fahahir!”

“Who said anything about fair?” Karlach grinned and clawed her way down his forearm until she could burrow into his exposed armpits. Gale bucked and giggled harder, trying and failing to bring his arms back down. “Nope, you’re not getting out of this one, Gale.”

Astarion climbed on top of Gale’s kicking legs, fingertips fluttering into his sides with more purpose. The wizard twisted from one side to the other, but his fingers stayed on him. “You really thought I’d help you? And end up on the receiving end of Karlach’s fury?” Astarion snickered. “No, my dear. Unlike you, I know how to pick battles that I can win, haha.”

“Y-Youhuhu opportunhistic leehehehehech!” Gale squealed and curled in on himself when Karlach circled her thumbs along the outer curve of his armpits. The barbarian smirked, following the curve of his back and ending with swipes of her claws at the back of his ribs. Gale yelled and jerked forward, only to press his back into her chest when she kept scribbling. 

“Where ya goin’~?” She giggled. She let go of his arms for the moment so that she could use both hands to attack his rib cage. Gale immediately brought his arms to his sides and batted at her wrists. 

“Awahahahay frohohohom youhuhuhu!” He yelped and squeezed at her wrists when she tickled faster. “KAhahahaha! Lehehehet mehehehe gohohoho!”

In truth, Gale enjoyed tickling every now and again. It’s not something he’d go around talking about, but he definitely appreciated a good laugh. But Karlach and Astarion together were probably the most mischievous ticklers on the Sword Coast. If anything, they fed off of each other’s skills. Astarion had the dexterous fingers and teasing taunts, and Karlach had the strength and boundless energy. Together, they left Gale a laughing mess.

“Why? We’ve only just started,” Astarion teased, gently pinching the sides of his stomach. Gale jolted and belted out a laugh. Astarion did it again, earning another frantic laugh, and he grinned knowingly. Gale’s arms flailed as he tried to grab the spawn’s hands. 

“NOHOHO AHASTAHARION!” Gale wrestled with his hands, now full-on laughing. Astarion clicked his teeth as he tried to keep tickling his tummy. He gave Karlach an expectant look. 

“Ahem, little help here?” He asked, having to halt his tickle attack in favor of trying to move Gale’s hands. Karlach stopped tickling his ribs and reached over both men’s arms.

“Right, I’ve got ‘im.” She looped her larger arms around Gale and drew him back into her chest. Gale continued to squirm until his arms were trapped under hers.

“Thank you,” Astarion chuckled. He smirked at the wizard in front of him and made a big show of flexing his fingers. “Now, where were we?”

He put one hand on Gale’s tummy and Gale flinched again, nervously giggling. 

“Nohohot thehehre…” Gale jumped again and squealed when the spawn flexed his fingers. “AHAhastariohohon! Anywhehehre buhuhut thehehehre!”

“My, so sensitive..” Astarion continued to gently flex his fingers against Gale’s tummy, chuckling more at his squeals and cackles. “I’m hardly touching you. Our resident wizard is just a magical bundle of nerves, isn’t he?”

“Sure is,” Karlach grinned. “But hey, who said you’re gettin’ all of the fun?” She readjusted her hold on Gale, now using one arm to keep him against her chest. She joined Astarion in squeezing and poking into Gale’s tummy, and his loud laughter echoed throughout the tavern. 

Astarion wrapped his legs around Gale’s to not get thrown off but, even then, he almost went flying. Karlach laughed along with Gale as she alternated between the side of his stomach and just above his hip. 

“Gods, I love your laugh,” she giggled. “It’s so fuckin’ cute.” Despite her strength, even Karlach had to make sure she didn’t let go of him. Gale bucked and cackled in her hold.

“NAHAHAHAHA! DOHOHON’T TIH-AHAHA! AHAHA!” Gale struggled to get a full sentence out; he could only laugh himself silly as he leaned into Karlach’s shoulder. 

Eventually, the duo eased off of him. Karlach let go of his arms, and Astarion slowed his tickles down to gentle pokes and stroking. Gale inadvertently slid down Karlach’s lap, finally able to bat at Astarion’s hands.

“Plehehease, truhuhuce…” He gasped, sighing with relief once Astarion finally stopped. The spawn snickered.

“Alright, alright, I’ve had my fun. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of our mutual friend.” Astarion patted Gale’s stomach and climbed off of his legs. Once he was gone, Karlach pulled the wizard up into a seated position, holding him close.

“No hard feelings, right Gale?” She asked, rubbing her warm hands over his torso. Gale exhaled and shook his head. 

“Not at all. I believe we settled our score,” He replied, leaning further into her warmth. “Astarion, on the other hand…” 

[dumbistsmartass]

Every Hatchetfield song explained badly in ten words or less

spoilers and also this is only the main trilogy not nightmare time.

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Yeah, he didn't like musicals

La Dee Dah Dah Day - "the dogs are my meal"

What Do You Want, Paul? - "please god have an I want song"

Cup of Roasted Coffee - If I had to sing working retail I'd kill someone

Cup of Poisoned Coffee - oh hey, they killed someone

Show Me Your Hands - this is what cops think 24/7

You Tied up My Heart - gaslight, gatekeep, girl bossing your way to mariticide

Join Us (And Die) - Guts Magee and Brainiac explain why you should KYS

Not Your Seed - "it's your fault your daughter is dead bitch"

Show Stoppin Number - He had a point but like no

America Is Great Again - you know what it's a joke about

Let Him Come - they know he's the main character

Let It Out - Is it an identify crisis or possession

Inevitable - a beautifully haunting ending

Tickle-Me Wiggly Jingle - what the actual fuck is this?

What Tim Wants - what can I say, it's sad

Califor.M.I.A. - they really want you to bond with these characters

What Do You Say? - everyone is too invested in these twos relationship

Our Doors Are Open - "shopping will fill the hole in your heart"

Feast Or Famine - this is real footage when the new iPhone comes out

Monsters and Men - He's fucking back!

Deck The Halls - we got a full working boys, we could get this

Take Me Back - I'll be real I skipped this one on rewatch

Adore Me - haunting when you don't say the shit part

Do You Want To Play? - a reversal of who you're told to trust

Made In America - we let him in via consumerism, amazing capitalism critique

Black Friday - me singing a musical as I'm being choked out

Monsters and Men (Reprise) - This guy is so cool

If I Fail You - "are we the baddies?"

Wiggle - Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle

What If Tomorrow Comes? - So she is seeing the other Hatchetfields right?

High School Is Killing Me - they really spoil the people who die first song huh?

Literal Monster - shove yourself in your locker

Cool As I Think I Am - you think you're cooler then you think you are

Dirty Girl - makes me genuinely uncomfortable, skip it

Bully The Bully - interesting plan, let's see how It plays out

Bury The Bully - oh... that got dark fast

Go Go Nighthawks! - everyone is happier now that this bitch is gone

Nerdy Prudes Must Die - to be fair, you did kill him

Hatchet Town - mass panic is so hip

Just For Once - we all though the light was gonna fall on her

If I Loved You - they are in so much denial

The Summoning - Wiggly want you to kill your crush

Cool As I Think I Am (Reprise) - really tragic, trying to convince the other to sacrifice them

The Best Of You - I'm so glad it didn't end with everyone dead again

Dirty Dudes Must Die - When you give a Christian a little dark magic

[giggly-squiggily]

The Tickle Demon: First Strike (Black Clover)

Happy Sunday! Heyo everyone- I hope y'all are having a great weekend, and for those who work on Sundays I hope your day has been smooth! This is a collab with the amazing @intheticklescloset! The Ler!Liebe brainrot is strong within us jkarkjeajrkjaew Thank you so much Nym for collabing with me; I had so much fun!

For Nym's Part: The Tickle Demon: Second Strike

Summary: Liebe is familiar with tickling but has little to no experience actually doing so. Lucky for him, and not so lucky for Yuno- Asta decides to help him change that.

“Yuno!”

Said boy turned to find Asta waving at him, running down the paved roads leading away from the capital. It was their first real day off in months; no missions, no training- just a handful of hours to relax and explore the town like before.

And to start shit. “Hey, Shortsta.”

“There you go, making jokes!” Asta rolled his eyes fondly as he caught up, pulling him into a warm embrace. “I missed them, though. Really- it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve caught up! Look at you- you’re…huh?” Asta narrowed his eyes as he leaned back, taking him in. “Oh no way..did you get even taller?”

“Maybe. You’ve certainly gotten wider.” He poked at Asta’s arm, the muscle dense beneath his fingertip. “You’re like a miniature version of your captain.”

“Ha! You think so?” Asta let him go properly as he flexed, posing like one of those action figures the kids back in Hage played with. “I’ve been- OI!” He suddenly flustered, irritated at yet another short joke! “You’re really hung up on my height today, aren’t you?”

Before Yuno could reply with another playful jab, a small giggle was heard. Snickery and loud, and also kinda squeaky. The brunette furrowed a brow in confusion. It didn’t sound anything like Asta.

“Liebe, shush! Don’t laugh!” Asta cried indignantly, looking over his shoulder. Only then did Yuno finally see him.

A tiny black ball with hair like Asta’s- no bigger than a mouse. Right now, the tiny ball was laughing in its even smaller hands, one eye squeezed shut with mirth as it poked at Asta’s cheek. “He called you short! Hahahhaha!”

“That’s rich coming from you! You’re even shorter than me!”

“Take that back, you mortal!”

“You son of a-”

“What’s that?” Yuno cut in before what he suspected to be a bloodbath could erupt, tilting his head curiously. “Or should I say- who’s that?”

“Oh!” Asta’s face lit up, reminded once more his friend was before them. “Yuno! I want you to meet someone!” He gestured for the small blurb-Liebe, he said?- over so he was floating between them. “This is Liebe! He’s my demon!”

“...Huh.” Yuno nodded. That makes sense.

“Wha-You’re not shocked?” Asta was sure this was some world renowned information.

“Not really.” Then again, this was Yuno. He was rarely ever shocked. “You’re not exactly known for normalcy.”

That…was true. If Asta were being honest, Yuno’s lack of surprise at this revelation was comforting. He’d be rather sad if Yuno suddenly stopped wanting to hang out with him due to it.

The other part however was a bit peeved. He was hoping Yuno would at least drop his jaw! “Fine then- lemme show you something really cool! Liebe!” He shot his arm out to the tiny demon, watching the skin turn black as their pack formed. “Devil’s Union!”

“YEAH!”

A boom of magic, a swirl of a grimoire, and Liebe…was not fused with him. It was only after he came to full size that they remembered Captain Nacht’s words of warning.

If I come to find you two unionizing outside of battle, I’ll kill you both.

Instead of a new form, Asta…stood with Liebe on his shoulders. Stacked. They struck what they hoped would be a cool pose for the wind mage, sparkling in the sun. “How do you like us now?”

Yuno took them in, expression unchanged. Then he clapped his hands slowly-the sound soft.

“Don’t you dare pity-clap us! Whoa- Liebe stop moving!” Asta yelped as they were thrown off balance, wobbling about.

“You’re the one moving! Stay still- AH!” Liebe yelped and clung on tighter, accidentally choking Asta. The pair swirled about before coming towards Yuno- the other boy reaching out to steady them.

“Just stop here-Eeh!” He twitched when Liebe grabbed onto his shoulders, thumbs far too close to his neck. “Careful.”

“Hm? Why do you make that sound?” Liebe asked, his grip on Yuno unyielding. “Asta- what was that?”

“What was what?” The shorter mage asked, looking between them.

“Nothing. It was nothing at all-hmmmph!” Yuno shivered when Liebe dragged his thumb against his neck once more. Asta’s eyes widened, and he began to grin. “D-Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” They asked in unison. Yuno tried not to roll his eyes. Twins indeed.

“You know what.” He poked Asta in the belly for emphasis, making him step back with a giggle. “There, you’re stable now.”

“Asta- Asta! Why did he make that noise?” Liebe asked again, pointing at Yuno while the other sought his footing. “Tell me!”

“He laughed. He’s ticklish.” Asta nodded, grinning again when he saw Yuno’s ears get all red. “Humans are like that, you know?”

“They are?” Liebe hummed, looking thoughtful as he rested his folded arms across Asta’s head. “I see, I see…”

They stood there, lost in thought briefly before Asta gestured for him to lean down, voice low. “Wanna try something?”

More whispers, and the demon let out a string of giggly snickers, nodding rapidly. Yuno raised a brow in the back, already knowing where this was going and not liking it one bit.

“What are you two snickering about- Whoa!” Yuno didn’t have a chance to react. Asta came running at him, Liebe still on his shoulders. “Oh no you don’t!” He went to run, but Asta was always just that much faster than him without magic. Seconds later, they were on the ground, Yuno groaning at the weight of two Asta-sized beings landing on him. “Oof.”

“Asta! Asta we got him!” Liebe cackled, cheering from his seat on Yuno’s butt as Asta scooted out of the way, quickly grabbing Yuno’s wrists. “Do we do it now?”

“Not yet, Liebe- give him a second to catch his breath.” Asta insisted, watching Yuno’s ears burn as the anticipation began to set in. “You ready?”

“No.” Yuno peeped up while Liebe shouted “READY!”

“Not you, Liebe!” Asta held up a hand, stopping his demon. “Yuno, are you ready?”

“Hang on, let me up a second…” Yuno squirmed some until he was on his back, wiggling a hand free to wipe at his mouth with his hand. “My face hurts from lying like that. Okay..” He tried for a firm glare. “Ready.”

“Oh ho ho, I like him!” Liebe grinned as he readjusted, wiggling his fingers high. “Now I can do it?”

At one last look for reassurance from his friend, Asta nodded. “Go for it, my tickle demon!”

“Yeeee!” Liebe cheered before grabbing onto Yuno’s sides, worming his fingers into his ribs. At first, the brunette was wincing, his jaw gritted and brows furrowed. Asta waved down the other once more.

“Lighten up, Liebe. Gentle.”

“Oooo!” Liebe nodded, doing so, changing his deep burrows for a more gentle tap. The change was almost immediate- Yuno’s pained expression faded for one Asta was familiar with, grabbing onto the demon’s wrists as he tried flattening out his mouth. The classic stubborn Yuno look!

Not today! Asta decided to give Liebe his next lesson in tickling Yuno.

“Oo, what’s this? Does it tickle? Huh?” Asta cooed, daring to wiggle a few fingers overhead, worsening his friend’s defenses. “Is the big bad demon getting at your ribs? Is he? Huh? You gotta tease him too, it really works on him!”

“Huh? Okay! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!”

“Yeah, like that!”

Yuno didn’t dare open his mouth- lest he lose control and start laughing. Instead, he gritted his teeth and turned to look the other way, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid the sight of those dastardly fingers. He should have known better- Asta wasn’t one for empty threats.

“AH!” He squeaked when he felt them touch down on his neck, tapping against his pulsepoint that had him scrunching up and giggly. “A-Ahahahahhahahsta! Aheahahha shohohohohohot! Gheahhahhaha dohohohon’t!”

“He’s laughing! Geehehehehehe! That’s right, human! Laugh before me!” Liebe cried dramatically, doubling his efforts as he walked his claws up Yuno’s ribs. The effect was working- Yuno went from barely grasping his wrists to trying and failing to catch them completely, squirming beneath their grasps as he laughed and wheezed. “He’s so sensitive! Hehehe!”

“Right?, That’s our Yuno- he acts all cool but really, he’s super ticklish!”  Asta giggled as he wormed his hands beneath Yuno, gently prodding into his armpits. Yuno shot his arms back so fast he bruised his elbow on the concrete, arching as he let out a whimpery laugh. “Careful! Don’t hurt yourself!”

“Aheahhahaha! Dihihihidn’t feheheheel a thihihihng! Gheahhaha- AHHA NOHOHO!” He cried again when Asta wormed his fingers into his neck once more, making him scrunch and curl up. “Ahehahahahahahhah dohohoohohn’t! Nohohohot thehehehehhere!”

“Why do you move? He laughs more there?” Liebe mused as he watched Asta giggle and move somewhere else again, prodding at his upper ribs and forcing Yuno to thrash. 

“Cause he asked! Plus, I don’t wanna tire him out too quickly. It’s not as fun.” Asta kept up his playful attack, relishing in Yuno’s giggle fits. “That’s important, you know? Gotta make sure he’s still having fun!”

“Fun…” When was the last time Liebe heard that? He tapped his claws into Yuno’s sides like how Asta curled his own, noting the different ways he reacted. “What does this do?”

Yuno let out a startled gasp before bursting into fresh giggles, his feet kicking helplessly against the pavement behind Liebe as he swatted at their hands. “Gehahahhahaahha! Cohoohohhome ohohohohohn!! Whihihihihy is he gohohohohod at thihiihihs?”

“Beginner’s luck?” Asta snickered, a bit amazed. He didn’t think  Liebe would pick up the whole tickling thing so fast. Liebe was like a fish to water, cooing at Yuno the way Asta did earlier and furthering the rosy blush on the wind mage's face hidden behind his hands.

Despite all this, he could tell Yuno was having fun. He wasn’t fighting back nearly as hard as he could, nor did he beg for mercy. If anything, he  was letting Liebe have his fun, just as he did with their brothers and sisters back home.

It made him smile. Yuno had accepted Liebe.

Eventually though, all good things must come to a close.

“Ahehahahah! Ohoohokay, oohohohkay- I’m dohohohone!” Yuno called out, reaching out and grabbing Liebe’s wrists. “Stahhahap!”

“Liebe.” Asta called out, gaining the demon’s attention. He cut a line through the air, signaling him to end. With some reluctance, the demon backed off, pulling his hands back as he looked down at the giggly mage. “Good.”

Yuno was a mess of laughter, cheeks pink and hair more askew than normal. He took slow giggly breaths as he pulled both arms across his face, hiding in his sleeves. Carefully, the demon climbed off of him, sitting beside Asta as they watched slowly recover. 

“Ugh..ehehe..Iihih’m stahahrting to feeehehel it now.” Yuno gestured to his bruised elbow, wincing some when he touched it.

Asta snorted, ruffling Yuno’s hair. “Sorry about that. Want me to kiss it better?”

“No way- you’d infect it.” Yuno swatted at him playfully, shaking his head. “It’d get all bulgy like yours- then I’d have one normal arm and one tree trunk one.” Asta laughed harder at the visual, making Yuno grin. Eventually, he sat up, facing the other two as he watched Asta cough and choke through his mirth. “Did you have fun?”

Liebe figured he was asking Asta, but when he saw Yuno’s eyes on him, he put on his best grin. “Of course I did! Humans are so sensitive! Hehehehehehe. I should tickle you more often!”

“Heh, yeah…Liebe,  did you know Asta’s ticklish?” That cut off Asta’s giggle fits, making him pause with wide eyes.

“He is?” The demon’s eyes got big with wonder, his attention snapping to the other and making Asta squirm. “Is he just as bad as you? Worse? Tell me!”

“I could.” Yuno smiled, a devious glint in his grin. “Or I could show you instead?”

To be continued in Nym's part!

Thanks for reading!

[biowhore]

Have this originally small moment between Lucanis and Kalliope that snowballed into a hurt/comfort-ish one-shot. All pre-release, of course.

[~2500 word count, if you need]

Kalliope was AFAB and uses they/them pronouns. They are a mage in the Mourn Watch.

~~~

The door to the Lighthouse crashed open from Lucanis's boot, nearly splintering the frame as the thick panel met stone.

Their Rook - because he was trying not to think of Kalliope as his - held most of their weight on his shoulders as he veered sharply for the sitting area. He deposited them swiftly but carefully onto an ancient settee, kneeling in front of them. Kalliope sat heavily, immediately doubling over as the toxin took hold. Based on the blade graze on their arm, Lucanis thought, it was a coating. He was betting on deathroot based on the symptoms, thank the Maker. He had the antidote already made; they would recover quickly.

A cacophony of footfalls sounded at the entrance as the whole group came stumbling in after the pair of them. Harding and Emmerich made a beeline for Rook, already squawking about treatments.

"I have them," Lucanis stated quietly but firmly.

Harding, Maker bless her, heard his tone and stopped dead, reaching for Emmerich, but the death mage kept walking and talking.

"Might be best to-"

"I. Have. Them."

That caused Emmerich to falter, allowing Harding to grab him, "Oh good, Lucanis got them inside. If anyone can treat it, it'll be the Crow. Come on, let's give them some space - toxin recovery can be disorienting."

"Ah. Yes, quite," Emmerich cleared his throat. "Rook is in good hands."

With that, their discordant little group tickled out of the foyer one by one, casting quick glances at Lucanis and Rook as they went. He knew what it looked like, but he really couldn't be bothered to care just now.

Kalliope sat up straight suddenly, their head lolling back with a groan. "Yeah, feels like getting kicked in the teeth," Lucanis murmured. And the gut. And the groin. Both hands placed gently on their cheeks, he pulled down their eyelids to check the whites and the flesh, confirming the agent. Next, he dug into one of his pouches, retrieving a roll of leather that contained a handful of tiny glass vials. With a precise hand, he plucked out the vial he needed, along with a delicate silver spatula. With it, he scooped a viscous substance from the vial and turned back to Kalliope.

Their eyes were open, watching him but not truly seeing through the haze of the agent coursing through their veins. Their heart would be fluttering at a rapid but weak pace, unable to move blood through their body as it should. That would cause fainting eventually, which Kalliope appeared moments away from. The core of their body would heat up as blood did not disperse, their extremities becoming icy simultaneously. To wrap it all up in a bow, they would hallucinate severely, dipping in and out of consciousness; doubly dangerous for a mage.

He held the thin metal up to their lips, "Apri, Rook."

Lucanis took advantage of the brief parting of Kalliope's pale lips to sneak the spatula between their teeth, scraping the congealed antidote onto their tongue.

He whispered an apology and covered their mouth with his hand, making sure they didn't spit it out immediately. Kalliope shook their head, squeezing their eyes shut tight against the bitter, metallic tang. They settled after a moment, and Lucanis pulled his hand away.

He waited, watching the minute reactions of their face. Their eyes flickered open in fits and starts, finally remaining half open and locked onto his. He watched their awareness trickle back in, the warmth sparking weakly in the amber.

He was not expecting Kalliope to roll those usually haunting eyes and flop their forehead onto his shoulder, a surprisingly annoyed groan accompanying the action. A few muffled words escaped from the fabric of his mantle, but he couldn't make sense of them.

"Better?"

Their head turned fractionally, enough to hear a couple of words, "Dragon shit".

Kalliope never cursed in front of them. In fact, he had been certain they didn't know any curses, and had never been more amused to be wrong.

"Come?"

They did not reply. Instead, they clutched both of their elbows as tremors began from their legs, cascading up the rest of their body. It was an expected response as their heart recovered and adrenaline surged, then quickly abated. In roughly 10-15 minutes, he guessed, they would crash and sleep it off for hours.

Without thinking at first, his hands moved to the outside of their arms. He hesitated, then gingerly placed them, waiting a moment for any negative reaction from them before moving them up and down, trying to both sooth and warm them. He picked up their teeth quietly clacking by his right ear, the sound cutting off abruptly as they clenched their jaw.

"You'll be alright. It will pass."

"Well it can bloody well get on with it; this is worse than when I got locked in a sarcophagus with a half-preserved corpse."

He sincerely tried not to laugh. Kalliope was soft-spoken and polite. They continued to surprise him at every turn. Despite his efforts, he was afraid he was growing fond of surprises.

"Half-preserved?"

"I had only just removed her organs."

Disgusting. He was certain he would prefer purging any poison over that, but he was biased. And mostly immune. What did they get up to in the Necropolis?

He felt the tip of their nose just barely brush against the skin of his neck as they turned their head again, causing his hands on their arms to hesitate. Kalliope lifted away from his shoulder, eyes downcast and glazed with the adrenaline crash.

"Andraste save me, he smells delicious," they murmured.

He had no doubt that they did not intend to actually voice that thought. His mouth quirked to the side with the effort it took not to smile, simultaneously shoving any mutual sentiments into a steel box, locking it, and hurling it into the furthest forgotten corners of his mind. He was certainly not feeling that barest brush of skin like a brand.

Kalliope paused, their eyes slowly tracking upward until they met his. They quickly flicked down to the floor as their hand clapped over their mouth. Again, their eyes tracked upward, and as they took in his face, both of Kalliope's hands slapped over their face, digging into their hairline.

With a groan Kalliope asked, "By the grace of the Maker, would you happen to actually be Bellara or literally anyone else?"

"Afraid not."

"So I've said that out loud, directly into your ear."

"Sí."

"Brilliant," they flopped onto the settee, covering their face with their arm, "I don't suppose it's too late to reverse the antidote?"

Lucanis barked a bemused laugh, "I regret to inform you that despite your wishes, you shall live. But at least only I heard that."

They peeked at him from beneath their arm, "That does not make me feel better."

Lucanis only shrugged, staring at them with a crooked grin. That smile faded slowly as he tracked the full awareness coming back into their eyes. The kind of awareness that bore right into his soul, read every secret carved there, and begged him to spill his heart to them. A heart he had locked in a cage long ago. The air changed between them, settling back into the heavy weight of all the things they could not say to each other. All the things he would not let them. And because they both knew he would not, that damned pain, that hauntedness, came flooding back into their eyes. It was almost more than he could take.

Their tremors were slowing, but the shaking of their arm was very apparent. Kalliope sat up slowly, looking away in true shame now.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't myself," they spoke softly, awkwardly, "I hope... I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Lucanis clenched his jaw, but managed to say, "Don't do that. It's fine."

They shook their head, palm to their clammy forehead, "You don't need to... it- I-," they sighed heavily, abruptly pushing on from the moment, "I am exhausted. You're the only one around, and I feel as though I shall fall flat on my face if I try to stand, so could you help me to my rooms?"

Kalliope avoided his eyes, resolutely staring at the floor as she asked this of him, as if it were an imposition. He hated that he was the one responsible for them feeling this way.

"Of course. Here," he took their shaky hand away from their face, guiding it around his middle as he put another hand on their back. Slowly they both stood, Lucanis pausing to let Kalliope get their feet under them. His hand at their back slid fully around their waist, supporting their weight as he led them toward the stairs.

"You were grazed with a dagger that had a poison coating. You've had the antidote, but the wound should be tended." Lucanis stated, trying half-heartedly to alleviate the tension between them. It was even more difficult with their body so close to his - he found himself wishing he could tend to it himself, if only to apologize in his own way.

Kalliope glanced at the torn fabric on her right arm, "It's barely a scratch. Must have been really potent."

Lucanis nodded, "Concentrated deathroot extract."

"Maker's breath. How many life debts do I owe you now?"

They both turned their heads to each other, Lucanis looking into Kalliope's amber eyes with all the certainty in his bones when he said, "None."

He felt their quick intake of breath, startled by his conviction. His arm around their waist contracted to hold them upright as he successfully predicted that they would miss the next stair step. Kalliope's right hand shot out for the railing needlessly, the breath they just took rushing out in surprise.

"R-right. Well... lucky me."

~~~

The remaining trek to Kalliope's rooms was quiet and without further stumbles. Lucanis shouldered open the door without pause, his charge squeaking in protest.

"I'm fine you don't need to- aaand we're going all the way to the bed. Ok."

He chuckled, "You have no legs to stand on at the moment; I thought I would make things easier for you." While the tremors were subsiding, Kalliope was weakening with the crash. He wanted to get the graze sorted before they slept for an age.

"You are mothering me. I am fully capable of getting myself to bed, even in this state," they protested. Lucanis approached Kalliope's bed, a modest thing with warm wool blankets and a singular pillow. He carefully deposited them on the edge and stepped back.

"Light the lamp, then," Lucanis gestured to the bedside candle lamp with a flick of his chin, folding his arms as he waited. When they rolled their eyes and held out their hand for a spell, he clarified, "Without magic."

Kalliope grumbled but reached for the tinder box. They couldn't even get it open with their shaking, weakened hands. They slowly placed it back on the table, muttering under their breath, "point made."

Lucanis smirked, taking the box and lighting the candle with deft fingers. He then nodded to Kalliope's right arm, kneeling in front of them again while rummaging through another of his pouches. They obliged him by slipping their arm out of the thick robe they wore. They were able to maneuver their long sleeve up past their elbow, where the graze was, revealing a pale and freckled forearm. Lucanis removed his gloves, preparing a small amount of poultice and a linen wrapping. The cut was very clean, thanks to a well-honed blade. It was the only thing he would be thankful for regarding the attack.

He kept his touch clinical, but it was hard not to dwell on the warmth of their skin. They were quiet, watchful, but their eyes followed the movement of his fingers mechanically, thinking rather than seeing. In just a few moments he was pinning the wrapping, absurdly wishing he had an excuse to be more thorough. He needed to leave, but his legs felt leaden.

"Hmm." Kalliope patted the dressing, "Passable."

Lucanis chuckled, "I think you're opinions should be limited to wrappings on the dead. Let me know when you've tended a couple hundred bleeding limbs."

They gasped in mock affront, "The principle is the same!"

Both grinned stupidly at each other and their meaningless banter. Lucanis's caged heart strained against its bars. Their pink, soft lips broke the grin, falling to a mild frown as their eyes seemed to lose focus. They tipped forward slightly, and his hand shot out of its own volition, cupping their cheek. Kalliope let out a rush of air, their eyes fluttering closed.

"Hah... the world is spinning."

Lucanis nodded, "Rest. By morning the effects will have waned."

"This isn't really what I had in mind when I said I wanted to see more of the world outside the Necropolis," Kalliope whispered.

"Oh? Taking on some gods was on the list, though?"

They shook their head and laughed, still keeping their eyes closed from the vertigo, "Oh don't do that, it makes it worse!"

He grinned, "Apologies." He wasn't really that sorry; he craved their laugh, even if it brought him as much pain as joy.

He realized their faces were very close, the tips of their noses just a breath away from touching. Kalliope mastered their laugh and peeked their eyes open, the flame of the candle dancing in their irises. Those eyes swallowed him whole, while his logic screamed at him to leave, to pull away, to end this any way he could. But he was paralyzed, and he could not decide if he was a willing captive or not.

"You're gentle for a Crow," Kalliope whispered.

"Gentle is not a word that accurately describes me."

"Yet I did."

"Rook..." He knew what they were doing. And he couldn't let them. Yet his thumb traced the bone of their cheek, his palm soaking in their warmth like it had never known such a thing.

"Kalliope," they tried to insist.

He shook his head slowly.

Again, that haunting resignation crept into their eyes, "I'm not afraid of you, Lucanis."

Oh, his name from their mouth. Like a knife in the belly, like the caress of the sea, like the itch of the Fade, like coming home, and leaving again all at once.

Their forehead met his, in pleading or exasperation or both. His hand on their cheek was seized by their own, grasping almost desperately, and he distantly registered the lack of tremors.

"But you are afraid of me," they whispered, then with a resigned confidence, "So, you should leave."

Their eyes shuttered, a wall of everite, leaving Lucanis briefly surprised. His hand fell away, and his legs finally did as they were bid, rising and stepping back. Kalliope's warmth left his body all at once, leaving him terribly and familiarly cold. Their gaze dropped to the floor, remaining where he had been and refusing to watch him leave. They simply waited silently.

His throat had closed. His hands, now back inside their gloves, clenched at his sides. His feet took him to the door, silent and detached, like he had wanted. But he managed to pause in the frame, something inside him finally deciding that he was incapable of leaving things between them like this.

Softly, simply, he bid them farewell, "Buonanotte, sognatore."*

His ears picked up the soft intake of breath and swallow they took as his feet left the threshold. It was the only apology he could offer them, the only acknowledgement he knew how to give after they had so completely sliced into the heart of the matter - in a way he didn't even fully understand yet.

He let his feet continue carrying him away from them, and his heart raged against the bars of its cage.

*Goodnight, dreamer

[jasmines-library]

You'll Be Okay.

Geralt of Rivia/The Witchers x Injured Reader.

Summary: Growing up in Kaer Morhen as a female Witcher was never easy, but you always had your brothers beside you. Although you only see them a few times a year, you are still close, trusting each other with your lives as you have done many times before. So what happens when your brother, and best friend, gets infected by a creature you dedicate your life to hunting?

Warnings: Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, angst, choking, near death, swearing, stabbing, weapons, loss/grief, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of a slow start.

Notes: This can be interpreted as completely platonic, or as a Geralt x reader, or Eskel x reader, it’s up to you to choose. This also takes place during S2E2 of the Netflix show.

Word count: 4.1K (it got a little out of hand...)

⭒ Masterlist ⭒

Kaer Morhen was far from silent. The snow had settled on the blue mountains casting a misty haze across the sky and the Witchers had retired home for the winter. They sat gathered round the dim firelit hall sipping on beer and sweetened mead as they boasted about their scars and the exciting stories behind them. Witchers were rare to stumble upon.The trials were dangerous and most people died before completing them. There were as little as 20 witchers left after the massacres, where many of the few men died. Female Witchers were incomparable, unheard of. The trials were nearly impossible for boys, let alone a young girl. Though, some spoke of a woman with eyes as golden as the blazing sun whose magic and strength was comparable to that of mages. A woman who not only passed the trials but exceeded trials beyond those alongside Geralt of Rivia. 

You sat slumped against the table in the corner of the room with a dark beer in hand as you studied the scenes of your brothers before you. Many had not returned home. Being a Witcher was a dangerous art and not always a wanted one. You knew that. You could be killed or fatally injured at any unexpected moment. It’s why you all had to keep a keen eye out, a single slip up and it could be game over. Your golden eyes glazed over the men before you. You would be lying to say that your stomach knotted in the absence of Geralt and Eskel. You had grown close with the pair, Geralt had been there throughout your trials, easing you though the burning pain as the herbs coursed through your veins like fire and patching up wounds you could not. Eskel had helped train you to fight. He taught you to never give up. That you could do anything they could. Your enhanced senses meant that you could hear the rattling of the door handle before it slammed open and the muttering died down like a flame. A hooded figure stepped into the room. His pale hair fell in ragged ringlets in front of his face and his eyes that correlated yours melted from the piercing gaze they held as he pulled his hood down. Surprisingly, in tow was a young girl, perhaps around the same age you were when you began your trials. 

“Here comes trouble.”

You leaned forwards in your seat as Lambert stood and approached Geralt.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He folded his arms. 

“We thought you got lost. Or killed.” Coën jested. 

Geralt's eyes softened and a smile crept onto his lips. “Not yet. Sorry.”

Lambert smiled before embracing his brother tightly. “Brother! I knew you’d make a fucking entrance.”

A tall figure lurked towards the front of the room. His hair was much like Geralt’s; it shimmered softly under the light and his eyes were much like yours. Upon his face his moustache and eyebrows were littered with greys. 

“Wolf.” When he spoke his voice was firm though you could hear the relief. “You’re home. Finally.”

“Vesemir.” Geralt said, addressing the man. He was as close to a father as Geralt had. As close to a father as all of you had. The young girl who arrived with Geralt, clung to his side, anxiously, wrapped tightly in a fur shawl, which was so large that it tickled her rosy cheeks. Geralt gestured to her. “Had to make a few stops.”

“Hmm.”

A sort of uncomfortable silence encased the room as people waited for what would come next. The cracking of the flames was the only thing heard before you rose from your chair, the old wood creaking as it shifted, and made your way towards your brother. His face lit up with anticipation. 

“Geralt of Rivia.” You chuckled. “You never fail to surprise.”

Geralt studied you carefully as you spoke. He noticed all of the new blemishes in your skin and the fresh scar that ran across your eyebrow and down your cheek. He took in your eyes and the way their yellow hues shifted in the light and the smile that was pressed on your lips. He admired your hair and the way you kept it; different from the last time he saw you, but still he liked it. He had missed you. 

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

 Your lips curved further upwards and your eyes glistened. “Too long.” You pulled him in close and welcomed the slow beating of his heart. He was alive.

“He’s home!” The tender moment was broken by the slamming of a knife in one of the tables followed by the rest of your brothers swarming the man. 

~

It was darker still when the room continued to erupt with laughter at Lambert’s very animated retelling of one of his jobs. The young girl - Ciri, had made herself comfortable with a goblet, her face was lit up with an ecstatic grin. She reminded you much of yourself when you were her age. The wind howled outside, rattling against the door and pounding at the windows.

“Best job I had all year.” Lambert chuckled, taking another swig of his drink, spilling some of it down the side of his face and onto his shirt. He cursed and patted at it with a rag before tossing it back on the table. 

Vesemir raised his goblet aloft. “Each of your faces is cause enough for celebration. You’re safe. You made it back. You made it home.”

A series of glasses and goblets were raised in agreement. You raised yours high, morning the missing face of Eskel and your other brother who didn’t make it.

“Here’s to another winter together.”

There were a number of murmurs and follow up toasts, the sound of glasses clinking together and chairs shuffling.

Geralt raised his cup “To the brothers. To our sister. To family.”

“To family” chortled everyone. 

A strong draft rushed in as a booming voice sounded from the entrance to the hall. “To forgetting the fucking path! For one fucking night. Who’s ready?”

“Eskel!”

You rushed forwards and embraced him. His expression was tired and there was a thin sheen of sweat cascading across his brow. His dark hair fell across his face where it had fallen out of the tie he had scrapped it into. 

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you furrowed your brow. “You look like day old shit.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your shoulder and making his way into the room “Yeah?You should see the other guy.”

Geralt eyed him as he stepped forwards, revealing the long, branchlike hand that was shoved into his bag. 

“The bout lasted six hours. I’d have got the fucker too. If I hadn’t lost my elixirs.” He threw the bag on the floor. It landed with a thud which ricocheted throughout the silent room and unsettled the grime on the floor. “Took her hand though.”

“What’s that?” One of your brothers rolled the bag over with his foot. “Is that a leshy?”

“Walked like one. Talked like one. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” You queried, raising your brow.

“I haven’t crossed a leshy in a while.” Geralt said, turning the branch over in his calloused hands. “Not in Kaedwen.”

Eskel pulled down the hem of his coat slightly. It was long and green, frayed at the edges. Bloodied bandages poked through from underneath. “Well count yourselves lucky. Unless you’re aching for the sting of one of their fucking roots.”

“Fire through the heart is the only thing that puts one down.” Vesemir said firmly. “Six hours in, that didn’t occur to you?”

Laughter scattered about the room and Eskel’s face darkened as he made a beeline towards Ciri, who took a sip from her goblet, trying to avoid his gaze and retain her laughter. He made it pretty impossible not to when his face was inches from hers.  “Who the hell are you?”

“Princess Cirilla of Cintra. Pleasure to meet you.”

He did not return the greeting, only glared at her for a brief moment before grunting and slipping away. You could tell that something was wrong. 

~~~

Your sword rang loudly across the courtyard as it made contact with Geralt's. He grunted as you advanced forwards, forcing him back against one of the pillars. You smirked, pressing the sword closer to him. He shoved you backwards, using his extra strength to force you to the floor. The snow was cold on your body, despite the layers you were wearing as you rolled underneath him, grabbing his uninjured leg and pulling him down to the ground. Scrambling quickly to your feet you forced the sword from his hand. 

“You’re getting sloppy, old man.” you chuckled.

“Or maybe I just let you win.”

Shaking your head, you held a calloused hand and helped him up from the ground. 

“When you told us you called law of surprise, Vesemir and I told you ‘big mistake.’ You said you promised you wouldn’t claim the child.”

“I had to save her.”

“I know. And you knew I would call you out on it.”

Geralt hesitated and placed his sword in a sheath. “Yeah.”

Your eyes found their way to the floor, tracing the little indents in the snow carved by the shuffling of feet. 

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Nothing.”

Geralt's stare spoke for him and you let out a deep sigh. 

“Eskel. He’s acting strange.”

Geralt sighed and brushed the hair from his face. “I noticed it too.”

“I sense something is changing, Geralt. Keep Ciri close.”

~~~

Eskels party raved on as you sat, tucked away in the corner with a glass of mead observing the way the flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow over everyone's faces. The witchers swayed and danced and kissed with women from the nearby village. You observed how Eskel was fondled over desperately by a fair haired woman. He hollered and pulled his arm back protectively when she got a fraction too close to his wound that was no longer leaking crimson, but burned like fire. You watched how Geralt, who had been previously absent, walked briskly towards him with angry lines etched on his face. You edged closer, something was telling you this wouldn’t end well. And you were right, you rose quickly to your feet when Eskel got up in Geralt's face. When you pushed the two of them apart, Eskel eyed you angrily.

You could tell his shoulder was bothering him and that he was in more pain than he let on. 

“You know, it's funny,” Eskel grunted at Geralt, “Me and the others, we come back here, all banged up. Rock troll busts Lambert's eye. A werewolf takes a chunk out of Coen’s arse…” Eskel’s gaze turned to you and he drank you in, lingering on the pink scar that ran along your face. “And Y/N… Y/N here gets her face torn up by a Bruxa. Was out for days.”

It’s clear from the way that Geralt watches you that you didn’t tell him that one. Eskel smirks and cocks his head. “Hmm, but looks like she didn’t tell you that one did she? And…what do you come back with? All i'm saying is when I find a princess, the last thing i'm gonna do is play knight.” he jested.

He swung at Geralt who quickly countered the punch and pulled his brother into a hold. You skidded to a halt besides the two trying to separate them. Eskel’s face was raging with anger, his eyes piercing like a thousand tiny daggers. “Eskel,” You told him sternly. “Do us a favour, and go to bed.” His teeth clenched and he pulled his hands into fists but before he could do anything, the woman pulled him away down a corridor and deep into the keep.  

You turned to leave, to go back to your corner or to join another Witcher, expecting Geralt to return to Ciri or wherever he had been before he caused the stir, but instead he gripped your arm and forced you to face him. You looked at him inquisitively. 

“Y/N…”

“Geralt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Bruxa?”

You turned away from him, walking back to your goblet. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“But you told Eskel?”

You whipped back around, his face was laced with concern and frustration. “I didn’t tell Eskel. He was there.”

“He was hunting it with you? Then why didn’t he stop it before you got hurt? I swear to the gods-”

“Geralt. Stop. He found me… we were both coincidentally hunting the same Bruxa.”

“You hate Bruxae.” Geralt stated. 

You hummed and sipped your drink. “There was a rumour about a local village being attacked by a vampire. Things had been slow and the pay was good, so I went to check it out. You know Bruxa, they’re quick and she got me from behind. Winded me and pinned me down so I couldn’t get to my weapons. Took a chunk out my face with her claws and nearly drunk me dry. That’s when Eskel found me. He shot her down and took me to an Inn. He saved my life Geralt. I can never repay him for that.”

~

It was the high pitch buzzing followed by the rapid vibrating of the medallion slung over your neck that caused your head to snap up. Everyone stopped. A low, guttering rumbling spread its way across the room. 

“Maybe Eskel’s leshy wants its hand back.” Coën said. 

Vesemir’s golden eyes scanned the room, trying to follow the pattering and heaving creaking. “Wield your wits, kids.”

Everything seemed to happen very quickly. Everyone scattered to keep Kaer Morhen safe, darting between corridors and brandishing themselves with their weapons. You slipped away from the crowd to try and find Eskel, if he was preoccupied and didn’t notice, or it was his leshy, he was in trouble, and you felt as though you owed him protection. Geralt, to your surprise, joined you in the eerily silent corridors. You had a feeling he wanted to get to Ciri, but knew he was needed in the fight or, perhaps after your story about the Bruxa, he felt as though he needed to stay by your side.

The weight of your sword was comfortable in your hand as you released it from its sheath, it was almost like an extension of your body; an arm made of silver, a protector, a deadly limb. The sound of your footsteps mixed with the steady drip of water seeping through one of the many spidering cracks in the tall ceilings. Sometimes they seemed never ending as though there was no escape from Kaer Morhen, you would be trapped in its walls forever. A low rumbling ricocheted throughout the keep, shaking the walls and blowing out some of the sconces, plunging more of the halls into darkness. You gripped your sword tighter. 

The grand oak doors creaked as Geralt forced them open. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight which flooded in from the skylight and from the chandeliers which swung wildly on their hinges. The pair of you edged your way inside, your eyes and ears sharp as you scanned the room. 

“Oh God…” You recoiled. On the left side of the room, the girl Eskel had been with was pinned against the wall, suffocated by a thick rope of branches. One protruded awkwardly from her mouth, a river of blood coating her chin and the offending branches. There was a thud, and you raised your sword aloft to slice through the thick vine that darted out towards you. A second one raced towards Geralt, who sliced through it as though it was butter. The pair of you readied your swords, turning to watch each other's backs and making your way further into the centre of the room. Glinting as it caught the light, your sword swung to destroy another branch, which had made to grab your ankle. The room was silent for a worrying moment. Then, the two of you were assaulted from all sides. The leshy growled as its arms attacked from all sides, breaking walls and bending the wooden framing of the windows. The pair of you swung your swords with precision, slicing and ducking to avoid a deadly ending, though no matter how hard you tried, the two of you were outnumbered. One of the vines, as thick as your arm, wound itself around Geralt, slamming him against the wall with a grunt, out of your reach. 

“Geralt!” You cried, trying to make your way over to him in vain, whilst dancing between the onslaught of vines. You could see the witcher struggling, wheezing and clawing at the second branch slivering across his neck, binding him to the stone pillar. You could see him straining, his hands struggling to grip the sconce that hung just out of reach, mocking him. The branches’ attack ceased for a moment, as the leshy rolled in. It was tall and spindly with a humanoid face that looked very pissed off. Geralt dropped beside you as the creature squealed in pain; he had managed to burn the wood with the sconce, casing it to drop him to the ground. With your face stony, you pointed your sword at the leshy. With the help of the flames from Geralt's sconce, the pair of you backed it behind a table. Geralt jabbed the flames at the creature, which caused the bark of its skin to blister and it to growl. When it turned its head towards you, your face dropped. 

Staring back at you were the piercing, green eyes of another witcher. “Eskel?” 

It came out as less than a whisper, your voice betraying you, revealing the fear behind your mask. 

“Y/N…” Eskel panted back. “Geralt.”

The leshy, Eskel, grunted in pain as it stood, tossing the table it hid behind to the side. Geralt dropped the flames and held his sword in front of him. It was only seconds before Eskel was firing vines and the pair of you. Geralt thrust his sword downwards, deep into one of the branches coming towards him. Eskel howled in pain and tossed his brother back into the doors before turning towards you. Desperate to get away from the danger, you rolled across one of the benches. The branches shot over you as you backed away. You were about to strike again, when two protruded from the walls and gripped both of your arms, yanking you backwards against a second cold bench. Two more slithered around your ankles, pinning you to the piece of furniture. They were harsh, thick with thorns and rough surfaces that scratched against your skin. You grunted, squirming to get free, but you were stuck. 

“Eskel.” You strained, “I don’t want to hurt you…please.”

The leshy bent over, towering above you so that you could see the scarring on the wooden version of Eskel’s face. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t the witty, gruff voice you were used to, but a fragile, pained whisper. “I came back here…I knew something was wrong.” He swallowed thickly, struggling with his words as you struggled against him with gritted teeth. Where was Geralt? What had Eskel done to him? “I don’t know what happened...”

One of the leshys arms jabbed itself into your shoulder, drawing ribbons of crimson blood. You screwed your face up and bit back a scream. 

“I thought I could fight it.” Another branch into the same shoulder. You groaned and clenched your jaw. The next few words were broken and hard to understand, you weren’t sure if it was because of the hazy pain you were in, or because Eskel was struggling against the leshy. Probably both. “I thought…you could help me like I helped you…”

Eskel stared at you, before turning away and screeching loudly. Vessemir stood in the doorway, his sword sheathed behind his back and a javelin which he had just thrown lodged inside the bark of the creature, Geralt stood beside him, weapon at the ready. It yanked it out and ascended into the ceiling as Vessemir removed his sword and began to cut the vines from around you. 

“What is this?” He grumbled, pulling you up to your feet.

“It’s Eskel.” Geralt replied. “The leshy’s infected him.”

Vesemir faltered. “But that’s not possible.”

‘

“That’s what we thought.”

The room creaked, the ceiling cracked and the chandeliers swayed as the three of you circled the room. You held your weapon in your off hand as you nursed your injured shoulder. When the leshy’s failed attacks wore thin, it descended from its place in the ceiling and made a beeline for the door. The elder witcher was quick to notice and ordered Geralt to shield them shut. Pissed that its simple escape route was no more, Eskel stalked towards Geralt, albeit didn’t make it very far because you and Vesemir assaulted him with chains that were pinned to the walls. The hooks dug into the bark, keeping him in place. You wound them tightly as he thrashed, suspending him off the ground. Vessemir’s attempts to calm him, telling him you could save him were futile. He just knocked the man to the side, attacking him with lengths of branches, sending him careening to the side. 

“Hey!” You yelled, stabbing one of the branches with the point of your sword. The creature turned its attention back to you. It vines wrapped themselves around you, suffocating you in a bone crushing grip. One hooked itself around your neck like a python, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt as though your head might fall off from your body. Eskel cocked his head and studied you closely, his eyes twinkled. No amount of yelling or distraction could draw his attention away from you. He was hooked, conflicted between wanting to kill you and wanting help. 

“Eskel…” You wheezed, “Please…stop.”

You were completely unaware of the distressed calls of the other witchers and the hum of Geralt's sword as he cast a spell over it, causing it to glow white hot. You were absorbed by the face of your brother as the branches tightened around your body. Your lungs burned and you tried to suck in air, much to the protest of your ribs, which cracked and shifted uncomfortably. It was when that coppery taste flooded your senses and blood fell from your mouth that you stopped struggling. Your vision blurred as you choked, gasping and spluttering. Your ears rang and white spots obscured your vision as you stared blankly up at Eskels face. When Geralt drove his sword into the leshy’s heart, your body slumped to the floor.

“Y/N!” Geralt was quick to your side, rolling you over to face him, agitating the raw wound on your shoulder. You cried out in pain.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “ he hushed, taking you in. He eyed nervously the blood that was seeping from your mouth and ears, some streaming down your nose. There were angry bruises already forming on your neck and winding around your body. As your spluttering began to cease, your eyes began to flutter shut.

“No. No, no, no, no. Keep those eyes open.” Geralt pleaded. You whimpered as he pulled you into his arms, holding you securely to his body. Your head lolled against him as your eyes fluttered. You missed his call to Vesemir, who led Geralt down the hall. You missed the anxious calls of your brothers, who were aghast to see your condition. You didn’t see the way that Geralt’s face contorted at your pained whimpers and the scattering of people trying to make room for you. You missed it all as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

When you awoke and your eyes had adjusted to the light, the first thing you were aware of was the dull pain that radiated throughout your body. A throbbing ache mixed with a sharp stabbing pain. The second was the anxious, golden eyed stare of Geralt of Rivia. 

“You’re awake.” He whispered, as though he were trying to convince himself. 

You groaned as you tried to sit up, ignoring the pain in your shoulder and across your ribs. There was still a slight wheeze to your breath. 

“Easy,” He told you. “You took quite a beating.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke, dry from lack of water. “How long…?”

“A few days. We had to lace you with elixirs…” Geralt sighed deeply. “You had us so worried, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry.” You muttered. In that moment, you remembered something, like someone had turned on a light. “Eskel?”

Geralt shook his head. “Gone. I’m sorry.”

You nodded solemnly. You knew that the chances of saving him were slim, through a rough tear spilled from your eyes. 

“It’s okay.” Geralt placed a hand on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by a bloodied bandage. “It’s okay. We still have each other. We have our brothers. We will be okay.”

————

[thegnomelord]

was thinking about drawing Ifrit from "Hell has a basement floor" and had some headcanons on his appearance.

on one hand i was thinking to make him tall and burly, built big to store all the mana and power he has, make him built like a volcano.

on the other.... what if and hear me out.... Ifrit.... skinny. tall and gangly, long limbs, underfed, outlines of bones poking out from underneath the skin, sunken eyes for that extra unsettling factor. besides magic does have a cost. maybe it's just your body that needs to be exchanged.

now i thought of the second hc because tall and skinny isn't exactly associated with the kind of brute force Ifrit has but he's still strong even if his lifestyle is gonna put him in an early grave. now imagine when he's finally part of tf 141 they notice that he's not very well in the food and weight department for his height and the amount of energy he spends so... they start feeding him (especially Price and Soap because protect and care hoard/pack)......

i've also been getting into the trope where characters gain weight as a sign of health and living a better life. so yeah tell me what you think

and maybe share your hcs on Ifrits appearance because i don't want to butcher your creation on accident

Okay 1: you have no idea how happy it makes me when I hear ppl want to draw fan art of my stuff :DD, internally I'm like that dog video where the dogs happily tapping his paws lol bc he can't contain his excitement lol. And also yeah, I'm a huge sucker for the trope and your little idea with Price amd Soap tickles my brain.

And 2: man you did some mind reading bc your hcs are actually very close to what I've made up for the lore of the whole au. While I want to overall leave Ifrit's body type ambiguous to give readers some space to imagine themselves in Ifrit's place, Ifrit is 100% underweight with more of a volleyball/basketball player type build, as mages focus on stamina and endurance rather than raw strength bc that can be augmented with magic. Also has stretch marks because their weight fluctuates a lot lol

Okay lore spoilers so if y'all want to find out through the story skip this-

Okay so— magic is increadibly taxing on the body, not just by eating away flesh and creating mage marks as a Mage's power grows, but just by simply existing inside the body magic stresses the body. Because fundamentally magic is toxic to humans, and even mages who have the needed adaptations to utilise magic are no better than our ancestors when they were first learning to stand on two legs.

The best metaphor I have for magic is chemo drugs. They're used to kill a cancer but they also damage healthy cells. Magic, similarly, damages the body by existing inside it, but also is used by mages to heal the damage as soon as it happens. This uses a lot of calories and also why mages have really irregular weights, losing 10kg in a week isn't an uncommon thing.

Someone possessing even half of Ifrit's capabilities would need to eat 3x that of a regular human of the same height and weight. Mages are literally Shaggy from Scooby Doo lol. And that's only to get the bare minimum their body needs, caloric need becomes much bigger if they're active like Ifrit is. So you'll find that many mages, but especially military ones, are underweight and need to regularly get Iv fluids and nutrients to help their body recover from using magic. They also need to eat a lot of highly caloric food, which isn't easy when one of the most common side effects of magic use is puking your guts up.

Most military mages don't reach 30. The average life expectancy is around 25, with active duty (i.e. constant missions and daily magic use) mages lasting on average 3-4 years before their body basically breaks down, but they can last longer depending on how conservatively they use magic.

Now, knowing all that, Ifrit has been actively using strong magic on par with military mages since they were 14-15 years old and while they're not the healthiest, they're healthy as a horse when compared to most mages. The reason behind their continued survival — their mage marks.

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

A Quiet Love

A Gale x OC fic for the amazing @frostfall-matches as thanks for the many matchups via my main account @shadow-wolf-03, hope you enjoy!

Apologies to my fellow Astarion lovers this is a Gale fic don't worry though the next one is an Astarion fic

Raven never thought that one day, her favourite scent would become the smell of old dusty library books, but here she was, reveling in the scent of her lover, who smelt exactly like old dusty library books.

He had his left arm around her waist, holding her close as he held a book in his right hand. A mage hand hovered above the book, ready to flip the pages. His long brown hair tickled her cheek whenever he shifted, earning little giggles every now and then.

His dark brown gaze always remained fixed on the letters scrawled upon the pages, but the gentle stroking of his thumb upon her waist let her know he was still paying attention to her. She rested her hand on his, leaning against his chest to listen to the rhythmic thrumming of his heartbeat as she tried to keep up with Gale's reading speed. Her body, however, had other plans. Her eyelids kept trying to shutter close and her head kept drooping on occasion, much to Gale's concern.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to sleep, my heart? You seem very tired." His deep husky voice flowed like a melody to her ears. "You don't have to stay up with me."

"No, I'm fi—" A yawn cut her off and she shook her head vigorously. "I'm fine."

"It doesn't seem that way to me." Gale set the book down after bookmarking it and gently pushed her towards their shared bed. She reluctantly obliged, another yawn taking her over as she flopped onto the bed face first, causing her to nearly eat the sheets. Gale slipped into the sheets shortly after, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before pulling her back into his embrace, nuzzling into her silvery hair.

She burrowed into his chest, feeling its gentle rise and fall with each breath he took, a reminder that he was still alive, that he still had a future ahead of him, that he had chosen to share this future with her. The orb no longer hummed like it used to before Mystra sealed it away, but the scars remained, a permanent mark of his former hubris.

Gale's fingers gently carded through her hair, his legs tangled with hers as he cuddled her like there was no tomorrow. Raven smiled, fingers tracing along the length of his arm as she let the sound of his heartbeat gently lull her to sleep. She could feel his lips ghost over the top of her head and he whispered something she couldn't quite make out.

"Hrm?" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Gale only chuckled softly, then snapped his fingers to reveal a starry night sky hanging above them. She knew it was only an illusion, but the sight still mesmerised her.

The stars twinkled just like the real ones and suddenly Raven was back on the road with her companions, camping just outside the city of Baldur's Gate. She'd been lying next to Gale, not too dissimilar to what she was doing right now, but back then, the thought of blowing himself up to destroy the brain was still very much present in Gale's mind.

She remembered the argument that had broken out between them that night, with him wanting to sacrifice himself and her wanting him to not do that. She couldn't understand why he couldn't see how much everyone needed him, her most of all even if she refused to admit it, and that no one wanted him to blow himself up just to save the city.

"You don't need to blow yourself up to destroy the brain. It's such a foolish sacrifice for a problem that can be solved in other ways."

"But what if there's no other way?"

"We will find a way. I promise you that."

She'd refused to lose someone so precious to her, refused to let him see himself as a tool, and refused to let him be used like one. That night was the first time she had uttered the words 'I love you' and it had stolen her breath away, her heart thundering in her chest as she waited anxiously for Gale's response.

He'd been just as taken aback, fumbling for words to say as his face flushed in embarrassment, and settled for returning the favour. His 'I love you' hadn't come out as smoothly as hers did, but that didn't mean it had any less weight. Those words washed away all her fears, giving way to relief and joy that he truly felt the same way.

She'd never yearned for someone before, not until she stumbled upon a magic hole in a rock that contained possibly the most awkward wizard she had ever met and said wizard had somehow made his way past her apathy, revealing the young mischievous soul that lay within.

Raven slipped her hand into his, feeling the way his larger warm hand wrapped around her smaller one. He pressed another kiss to the top of her head and tucked her hair behind her ears, looking at her with such awe it made her a little embarrassed.

"Aren't you glad you didn't blow yourself up to kill the Netherbrain? We wouldn't be able to have this moment if you did." She teased him lightly, giving his chest a poke.

"I'm glad about more than just that." Gale took her hand, placing it over his heart. "I'm glad to have met you, to have travelled with you, to be the one to whom you've given your heart to. I am honoured, to be the recipient of your love and I will do all I can to return the favour."

"You already have." Raven murmured. She didn't know why she was feeling so sentimental tonight, maybe it was the way the illusion reminded her of the not too distant past when she learnt to fall in love, to open up her heart. Or maybe it was the way Gale was lookng at her, his eyes filled with such adoration and love.

He smiled widely at her response, with what seems to be a look of relief in his gaze and connects his lips with hers. She leaned in, kissing him deeper and closes her eyes, relishing in the moment. She felt his hand on the back of her head, pulling her close until they both run out of breath and part.

"I love you." His words are soft, breathed out, and full of genuine love.

"I love you too." Her words are gentle, carefully chosen and filled with unspoken emotion.

As the two allowed sleep to claim them, the night sky illusion slowly faded, but their quiet love continued to burn bright.

[intheticklecloset]

The Tickle Demon: Second Strike (Black Clover)

Collab with @giggly-squiggily!

**Spoilers for Season 4 and beyond of Black Clover**

To read Part 1 (her fic), click here!

Summary: Part 2 of Squiggily's fic! Yuno offers to teach Liebe the best ways to tickle Asta, which the demon readily accepts!

A/N: EEEEK this was so much fun to work on! Asta and Liebe have had all of my brainspace since the latter was introduced in Season 4, and when we got to fangirling about them, this was the result! (Her idea, by the way!) Thank you so much for collabing with me again, friend! I had a ton of fun! 💖

Word Count: 2179

~~~

“Now, now, Liebe,” Asta said, putting his hands up defensively. “Let’s…let’s not get hasty, all right? This whole tickling thing is still pretty new to you—”

“Hey, it worked fine with your friend, didn’t it?” Liebe shot back, beginning to grin. “What’s the matter, human? You scared?”

Asta opened his mouth to retort, then decided – stupidly – to try and make a run for it.

Behind him, Yuno stared in bafflement and exchanged a brief glance with the demon before the latter of them took off after the shorter mage. Beginning to feel a giddiness rise up in him that he hadn’t felt in months, Yuno sprinted after them both.

“Are you seriously trying to run away from me?” Liebe called after Asta, cackling with amusement. “We’re contracted! You literally can’t outrun me!”

“I can try!” Asta shouted over his shoulder, but his huge grin gave him away – to Yuno, at least.

Catching up to Liebe for a split second, he panted, “He just likes to make things difficult. Think you can take care of that?”

“Heck yeah, I can,” Liebe replied, then put on a burst of speed that had him caught up to Asta and tackling him to the ground in seconds.

Asta yelped and flipped onto his back just as Liebe caught his arms and pinned them at his sides. “Waitwaitwait!”

“Let you catch your breath, I know, I know.”

Asta blinked up at his demon, surprised. That hadn’t been why he’d been protesting, but it made him feel oddly proud to see Liebe catching on to his earlier lessons so quickly.

Yuno caught up to them then, unable to help but laugh a little. “What were you thinking, taking off like that?”

“You did it, too!”

“I had a chance to escape.”

“No you didn’t!” Asta and Liebe retorted in unison.

Yuno smirked and crouched at Asta’s side beside Liebe. “Well? Are you ready, Shortsta?”

“You’re still hung up on my height—?”

Suddenly Liebe’s unfairly pointed fingers were in his ribs, cutting Asta off mid-rant and making him choke on a startled laugh, trying to pull his arms out from under his demon.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Liebe told him with a grin.

“Wahahahahahait, nohohohohoho!” Asta giggled, squirming as much as he could even though the demon had barely begun. “I dihihihihihidn’t sahahahahahay I was reheheheheheady, you jeheheheherk!”

Liebe snorted. “You were talking just fine, so I assumed you could breathe.”

Yuno barely bit back another laugh of his own. He’d only known Liebe for a few minutes, but he liked him already. And the friendship he seemed to have with Asta was clearly strong, so he liked him even more for that.

“Why aren’t you laughing as hard as he did?” Liebe asked after a few moments of soft snickers, fingers poking and prodding all along his ribs.

At this point, Yuno felt it was time to step in and do his share of teaching as well. “Different people are more ticklish in different places. You just have to find the right spot.”

“Oooh.” Liebe hummed, nodding as he dragged his fingers to Asta’s waist.

Asta’s giggles grew a tad softer at the change in location, much to Liebe’s obvious frustration. “Nihihihice try, Liehehehehebe! You’ll hahahahahave to do behehehehetter than that if you wahahahant to take mehehehehehe down!”

Yuno rolled his eyes playfully and reached in to help, wiggling a finger into the space where Asta’s armpits were clamped to his sides. “You’re in no position to be sassing us like that, now are you, Shortsta?”

In response, the smaller mage whined and bit his lip to keep from laughing any harder, determined to hold out at least a little bit.

“Come on, where is it?” Liebe grunted, releasing one of his arms to better access the hollow of his armpit and scribble his claws into it.

Asta yelped and tried to pull his arm back in again, but Liebe only grinned and pinned it out to his side as he tickled. “Oooh, is it here? Is this the spot that will make you laugh?”

Liebe – for all his enthusiasm – wasn’t very good at gauging what human reactions meant in this context, Yuno decided. He scooted around so he was sitting behind Asta’s head, then gestured to get the demon’s attention.

“Here, give me his arms,” he said.

Both of them ignored the giggly “nononono!”s that were coming from Asta as Liebe handed his wrists off to the wind mage and watched as he pulled them above his friend’s head to sit on them. They both knew full well that despite his small stature, Asta had strength to spare. Best to take precautions.

“Try again,” Yuno encouraged, slowly trailing his own fingers in Asta’s armpits to keep him giggling and squirming while still allowing Liebe the pleasure of finding the best spot on his own. “You’ll know when you get to it. Oh, and don’t forget to tease him, too, remember?”

Liebe’s eyes lit up at the same time that Asta shot Yuno a “what the hell?!” look that had the wind mage smirking back at him.

“Oh, yeah!” The demon grinned and finally went for Asta’s stomach, making him shriek at the same time he let out a long string of, “Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“Gahahahahahaha nohohohohohoho! Liehehehehehehebe, it tihihihihihihihihihickles!” Asta screeched, laughter spilling out of him in waves now as he struggled and writhed on the ground, unable to bring his arms down protectively anymore. He arched his back when the demon dragged a claw along his navel and cried, “Nohohohohohohohoho!”

Yuno grinned, watching the two of them. Liebe was a bit clumsy, but his eagerness made up for it, and despite his protests, he could see that Asta was having a blast in this moment. He always looked so happy when someone he cared about was tickling him. He thought it must really mean something that he and Liebe had bonded so quickly. He’d have to ask about their story later.

For now, he gave the demon a minute or so to enjoy Asta’s usual happy laughter before deciding it was time to bring out the big guns.

“You’re pretty close to making him really laugh,” Yuno said, smiling as Liebe looked up to meet his eyes. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to teach you the best way, because I doubt you’ll get it on your own.”

“Yuno!” Asta screeched, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Dohohohohon’t you dahahahahare!”

“Do dare!” Liebe interjected, grinning even wider. “If he doesn’t want you to share, it must be good. Tell me, human!”

“My name is Yuno,” the wind mage reminded him gently but firmly, “and I will. Watch this.”

“No! Yuno, don’t!” Asta whined, trying to bring his arms down to throw him off, but a quick scribble over his belly put an end to that.

Yuno finally allowed himself to grin mischievously, leaning in close to Asta’s face and digging a little harder into his armpits, cooing in his most annoyingly babyish voice, “What’s wrong? Whittle Asta can’t handle some whittle tickles? Hmm? Is that it?”

Asta twisted his head to the side, blushing furiously, trying desperately to keep his laughter at bay.

Yuno glanced at Liebe and said, “Tickle his stomach again.”

“No! Nohohohohohohoho!”

“Aww, whittle ticklish Asta can’t take some tummy tickles, can he? No, he can’t~ You’re so red now! Does it tickle too much? Huh?”

“FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—!!” Asta barely cut off a curse as he finally exploded with laughter, writhing on the ground like he wanted to burn a hole into it. “I TRUHUHUHUHUSTED YOU, TRAHAHAHAHAHAITOR!!”

Liebe watched Asta fall apart with rapt interest, eyes wide at the human’s reddened cheeks and more panicked state. Despite his curiosity, however, he found himself confused, and he frowned. “Why are you talking like that?”

Yuno stopped what he was doing to look up at him. He opened his mouth to explain that it was baby talk, but then – did demons have babies? Would they understand the concept? He found himself blushing a little, knowing how childish it all was. But it worked, and they both liked it, so he shrugged off the embarrassment and did his best.

“It’s a type of teasing. It’s called baby talk,” he said, glancing back down at Asta as he caught his breath and going right back into it before he could fully recover. “And it works soooo well on our whittle Asta! See? It makes him laugh sooo much, yes it does! Aww, are you ticklish, whittle Asta?”

“CUHUHUHUHUHUHUT IT OHOHOHOHOHOUT!!” Asta shrieked, shaking his head as he laughed helplessly under the onslaught.

Liebe still didn’t fully understand, but he thought he might have enough information to give it a try, so with a shrug, he dragged his claws down Asta’s stomach and cooed, “Oh, whittle Asta is a whittle baby, is he?”

His first instinct was to cringe – what was this insane type of human speech? It was ridiculous! – but then he saw how much Asta began to struggle and laugh in response to the words, and he felt something close to excitement well up inside him. He grinned, met Yuno’s approving gaze, and tried it again.

“Where does whittle Asta think he’s going? Hmm? I told you, we’re contracted! No escaping me, ticklish whittle Asta~”

“SHUHUHUHUHUHUHUT UP!!” Asta pleaded, laughing even harder now that his worst spot was being tickled in tandem with the teasing words.

Then the reality of them hit Liebe, and his grin went from pleased to utterly wicked in the span of a second. Asta could almost see the devil horns sprouting out of his head (besides the ones he already had).

“That’s right,” Liebe taunted, his voice lowering on instinct as he continued to coo at Asta’s laughing, squirming form. “You can’t get away from me ever, whittle Asta~” He dug his thumbs into the squishy bits of the sides of Asta’s stomach, earning a louder squeal for his efforts. “You said it yourself – I’m your tickle demon, aren’t I? Tickle, tickle, tickle! Whittle Asta is just soooo ticklish right here, isn’t he?”

Asta tossed his head back and positively cackled, his laughter coming out unfiltered in a way Liebe had never heard before. At a glance to Yuno, who gave him a smiling nod, he kept up his attack for another couple of minutes, watching the human utterly crumble beneath him and loving every second of it.

Eventually, though, he seemed to shift from this “having fun” thing they kept talking about to something else.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, ENOUGH!! NO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE!!” Asta begged, cheeks so red they looked like strawberries and a sheen to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “YUNO!! LIEHEHEHEHEHEBE!!”

Yuno held up a hand to the demon, signaling for him to stop. Much as he would have liked to keep going, Liebe followed his direction and ceased tickling, though he didn’t immediately climb off of him like the wind mage did.

“There. Now we’re even,” Yuno said, ruffling his hair playfully and hiding his wince as the bruise on his elbow from his own ambush reminded him it was there. Asta gratefully brought his arms down to cover his stomach, hands inadvertently resting on top of Liebe’s. “You good?”

“Y-Yeheheah,” Asta managed, gasping for breath and turning a halfhearted glare on his best friend. “You traitor.”

Yuno smirked, glancing at Liebe. “I think we both know you don’t mind him knowing about this.”

Asta groaned, but he grinned up at the demon anyway. “Yeah, it’s fine. As long as you promise not to kill me with it, you jerk.”

“I promise no such thing.” Liebe smirked, suddenly grabbing onto his wrists and pinning them down again, his eyes flashing in a way that made Yuno nervous but that only made Asta giggle again. “Like I said, you’re stuck with me. And now that I know about this little weakness…”

Asta squeaked as Liebe used his tail to prod his side momentarily.

“…I intend to have all kinds of fun with you. Soft whittle Asta~”

“Stooooop!” Asta snickered, twisting his body so that Liebe fell onto his side, both of them grinning. “Go back to being a puffball! I want to hang out with Yuno. I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Who are you calling a puffball, you little—!”

Yuno watched the two of them wrestle and couldn’t help but grin. It was strange; he saw how close and comfortable Asta was with this demon, yet he felt no jealousy. If anything, he was happy for him. Happy that he had another friend within the Black Bulls to look out for him.

They did eventually get to walk around the kingdom and catch up, with Liebe piping up once in a while but mostly leaving them to it, and Yuno was even more grateful that he was willing to let them have their time, unlike a certain wind spirit he knew.

Whoever this demon was, he felt good about entrusting him with Asta’s safety and well-being.

And his laughter.