An Incomprehensible Mess Who's More Active on Discord

It had happened while he was watching some cheesy romcom, a couple play fighting on the couch. The tickling itself lasted all of a few seconds before one thing lead to another and he was suddenly watching a very different scene unfold. That didn’t matter, not to his brain at least. He was absolutely fixated on the tickling, his breath caught in his throat and his heart fluttering in his chest.

He pushed it down, wayyyy down. If it came up in conversation, he tuned it out. If it showed up on TV, he turned it off. He just decided to never unpack it and never explore it.

Until the early 2000s, well after the events of Raccoon City, when he discovered the online world of tickling. Forums and chat rooms and videos and people planning meet-ups and events. He’d found a rather large community of people with this same interest, and he tried to pry himself away from that too, but he was so infatuated with it.

He spent most of his time browsing text posts, much too embarrassed to watch any videos, and he certainly never posted or tried to reach out to anyone. When a video would catch his eye, he watched it with absolutely no volume.

It was- and honestly still is- his biggest and most embarrassing secret. He never told anybody, no girlfriends or boyfriends, no friends. Nobody was allowed to know about it. He didn’t know at first why he was so embarrassed about it. Why it made him flush so very hot, or made his skin crawl. He couldn’t stand to witness it naturally or even hear the word.

He had learned all about it. The dynamics of it, the terminology, even the psychology behind it. He had gotten familiar with what it meant to be a lee and what it meant to be a ler, and then he learned that there were people who fell somewhere between the two. He had considered himself none of those. It was mostly a coping strategy, separating himself from it all by telling himself that he didn’t want to actively participate. It was just… an interest of his.

It wasn’t until a particularly… interesting dream he had that he was forced to face the reality of that being an absolute load of bullshit, as he realized that, not only does he very much want to be an active participant, but that he’s also very drawn to being on the receiving end.

He woke up in a cold sweat, flushed from his chest to his ears, and with one achingly obvious problem that kept him from going back to sleep. He spiraled almost immediately, now in even more denial about it than he’d been before.

That night, it shifted entirely. It went from a slight agitation in the back of his mind to a gnawing, incessant, insatiable need. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, and that made him a mess.

It was Claire that would eventually draw it out of him, or more so figure it out herself. It wasn’t entirely an accident either. She could tell something was up with him, everyone could. He was constantly fidgeting, unable to focus, zoned out, and seemingly completely unable to hold eye contact with anyone.

Of course she asked, but he wouldn’t tell, and one thing lead to another, and she did what she had to do. It was that night that he learned for the very first time in his life exactly where he’s ticklish, and oh how very very ticklish he is. Poor guy. It almost wasn’t fair, and she just was not getting anything out of him, but right as she started to feel bad enough to pull away, it clicked. Watching the way his face fell so slightly when she stopped, thinking of how jittery he’d been, stuck in his own head, staring at her hands, it all fell into place.

From that point on, nearly everyone he got close to learned about his little secret. Hunnigan, Ada, Chris, Ashley, even Luis had figured it out after overhearing a particularly teasing remark from Ada.

It only gets worse as time goes on, as each and every one of them find their own little ways to push his buttons, watch his brain short circuit, and he gets more comfortable being defiant. Chris says he’s like an old dog, snapping for attention.

He’s like an experiment for them, finding out which spots drive him up the wall, what methods and tools make him the most desperate, how to break him down and make him roll over. They test his limits, finding that boundary and toeing the line oh so dangerously.

You’d think it’d get a little less intense as they all get older, that he’d be able to handle it a little better, but they’re constantly finding new ways to ruin him. New tools, new methods, bondage, teasing, all of it.

Even now, with salt and pepper in his hair and stubble, after living through the zombie apocalypse, and basically saving the world, he’s still just as embarrassed about it.

In his defense, he’s probably the biggest and baddest motherfucker in any room at any given time. Right up until one of his oh so loving friends cocks that grin at him- the one that tells him everything he needs to know about the situation he’ll be in once they get their hands on him.

———————

“And Pyra said I was getting rusty! I don’t know, Zeke, what do you think?” Rex whined as he leaned back in his chair precariously.

“Hah! You aren’t rusty, Rex,” Zeke said, waving a hand dramatically. Rex looked at him with a wide smile until Zeke continued. “You haven’t gotten close to your true potential is all! One day you might be as strong as me, but that day is far off at the rate you’re going!”

Zeke did a small flex and Pandoria imitated him, making Rex chuckle awkwardly. “Gee, Zeke… That sure made me feel better.”

“Of course, Rex!”

“I believe that was sarcasm, Zeke,” Poppi pointed out, raising her hand to emphasize her point. Sparks flew from her joint and her hand fell down to her side. “Well, that’s new.”

“Meh meh meh! Poppi, I told you not to move!” Tora exclaimed, checking her arm. “I’ll need to weld the joint, hang on…”

Brighid enjoyed observing the group's antics, though she rarely ever got involved. She looked over at Nia and Dromarch, who were in a similar state of observing the antics rather than getting involved themselves.

“Nia, do you think I’m rusty?” Rex asked.

Brighid noticed Nia’s ear twitch slightly in annoyance at having been dragged in. She smirked softly at that and then raised her hand to her face in order to hide it.

Nia grumbled. “It’s like Zeke said: you’re not that strong in the first place.”

Rex winced. “Ouch! I beat you once, didn’t I?” He grinned slightly, leaning back in the chair even more. “Would that mean you’re even weaker than me?”

“What are you trying to say?!” Nia hissed.

Brighid was about to step in, but Dromarch began to de-escalate the situation. While she did leave the verbal de-escalation to Dromarch, the instinct to protect people that she had gained when she bonded with Mòrag kicked in. She walked over to Rex and pushed the chair down so that all four legs were touching the floor, and he looked up at her with a confused look.

“If you lean back like that, you’ll hit your head and die. That would be a terrible inconvenience.”

“Ah– Sorry, Brighid. Thanks for keeping an eye on me!” Rex said with a shy grin, rubbing the back of his neck.

Nia crossed her arms. “You should’ve let him tip back. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough it would do him some good.”

Rex glared at Nia. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Suddenly, all of Dromarch’s de-escalation work went down the drain. He looked at Brighid pleadingly for help and she obliged.

Brighid shot a quick glare to Nia and then another to Rex as she folded her arms, an intense aura emanating from her as she spoke. “If you two kill each other before dinner and I have to clean up the mess, I will kill you.”

Brighid knew her threat did not need to make sense in order to get her point across. It seemed to work, as Nia and Rex both wilted slightly. Rex turned back to talk with Zeke and Pandoria while Nia sat down at the table across from him and picked up an orange from the fruit bowl.

Brighid smiled softly and went to check in on Poppi before Nia interrupted her. “You and Mòrag are really similar, Brighid. Not just in terms of intimidation… Does your bond go deeper than we realize?”

Brighid hummed with an amused tone as she watched Nia toy with the orange peel. “You think I’m intimidating?” Nia froze and Brighid laughed. “You’re right, though. Mòrag and I have a deep affinity with each other, as I have been bonded to her for quite a while. When she bonded to me she was very young, so it makes sense that we’ve grown together in terms of our personalities.”

Now Rex chimed in. “Say, since Mòrag is supposedly the strongest driver in Mor Ardain, do you think she would have the best opinion of my strength?”

Brighid raised an eyebrow. “As her blade, I can confirm that you do indeed have a long way to go.” Rex groaned in annoyance and Brighid continued. “Everyone has their strengths and their downfalls, Mòrag included. There are many things that bring everyone down, but it is overcoming these that make us stronger.”

Rex furrowed his brows in thought. “What kind of thing would bring Mòrag down?”

Brighid shook her head. “I cannot say, as that is a personal matter.” She pointed at Rex. “You, on the other hand, are reckless, and that is what brings you down.”

Rex sighed. “Yeah, I suppose I am—”

“Reckless, loud, impatient, not the brightest… Oh! And you’re also—” Nia started to prattle off a list until she made eye contact with Brighid, who glared at her. “And you’re also… very willing to put your all into everything that you do…”

“That is true.” Brighid looked at Nia when she spoke. “Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. But there is a special kind of strength that lies in overcoming what brings you down.”

Zeke scoffed. “Well, you all may have your downfalls, but I have yet to find one!”

Nia leaned over to Rex and whispered something, making him laugh. Zeke did not seem to notice, which Brighid was thankful for. She had done enough de-escalating that night.

Just then, Pyra and Mòrag walked in, each carrying a  bag of ingredients for dinner that night. Mòrag helped Pyra carry the ingredients over to the kitchen, and Pyra quickly got to work on dinner.

Mòrag walked over to Brighid and stood next to her. “How are you doing, Brighid?”

“I’m well,” Brighid said softly. She then chuckled. “I am never not entertained with this group.”

Mòrag huffed out a laugh and nodded her head. “I understand what you mean.”

Pyra eventually served dinner and everyone ate, chatting and laughing as the night went on. Eventually, people began to retire for the night, going to bed in the small area that Tora’s workshop provided.

Brighid sipped her drink and looked at Mòrag, who was beginning to look tired. She nudged her gently and Mòrag nodded her head, taking the hint.

“I think that Brighid and I are going to bed as well,” Mòrag announced as she stood up. “We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Brighid gave a quick wave to the remaining group and walked over to the door with Mòrag, following her. “I think I’m going to get some fresh air before bed. Join me?”

Mòrag nodded with a small smile. “I would enjoy that.”

Brighid and Mòrag walked outside of the workshop and into the streets of Torigoth. They traveled outside of the city and into the lush green plains, breathing in the fresh air that it provided.

Mòrag sat down on a nearby log and Brighid joined her. Mòrag let her head rest on Brighid’s shoulder and she sighed, looking up at the night sky.

Brighid put an arm around Mòrag. “How are you doing?”

Mòrag shrugged. “I’m doing fine. I’ve been missing home just a bit lately.”

“We’ll likely be home soon,” Brighid said, trying to comfort Mòrag. “I know it will be different, but whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

Mòrag nodded her head and smiled. “Thank you, Brighid…”

Brighid hummed and changed the subject. “We had an interesting conversation while you were gone.”

Mòrag looked up at her and raised her eyebrow. Brighid continued. “We were talking about strengths and weaknesses and how everyone has them. Rex tried to pry about yours, but I didn’t tell him.”

Mòrag laughed. “What do you think my weaknesses are?”

Brighid let out a small chuckle. “Well, you can be a bit arrogant from time to time. You have a short temper as well, and you let it get the better of you every now and then.”

Mòrag huffed indignantly. “You’re no better with your temper.”

“Oh, you think so? I think I’m much more level-headed than you,” Brighid hummed, letting her arm fall down to Mòrag’s side. “Although, I just remembered one more thing.”

Mòrag scoffed. “How many weaknesses can one person have?”

Brighid shook her head. “This is not a weakness, just a particular quirk you might still have that I personally adore.”

Mòrag seemed to realize what Brighid was talking about a mere second before it happened, but it was too late for her to react. Brighid gently began to knead her side with her hand, making Mòrag burst into laughter as she leaned into Brighid.

“Brighid–! Dohohon’t!!”

“But your laughter brings me so much joy,” Brighid laughed along with Mòrag. “Now, where was that special spot…”

Brighid found Mòrag’s ribs and was rewarded with a gasp and more laughter, which brought a smile to her face. She gently drummed her fingers all along Mòrag’s ribs, making her gasp and laugh and snort as she squirmed against Brighid.

“Okahahahay! That– That’s enohohough!” Brighid listened to Mòrag and ceased, leaving her slightly breathless in her arm. “Wh-Why… Oh, Brighid, this is so embarrassing…”

Brighid shook her head. “Far from it. I’m very glad you’re still as sensitive as you were when we first bonded. I think that this could be one of your strengths, if I’m honest.”

Mòrag could not help but laugh at that. “Being ticklish? How could that be something that makes me strong?”

Brighid shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t necessarily make you strong in the sense that you can fight with it, but it makes you strong because it shows that you are still willing to let go and have fun  every now and then. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t even try to get away.”

Mòrag flushed, but Brighid continued. “It’s important to have an outlet, and if this is something that helps you let loose a bit, then I’m more than willing to help.”

Mòrag huffed. “Sounds more like an excuse to tickle me.”

Brighid nodded her head. “Oh, it definitely is.”