Authorâs Note: So this is my first fic Iâve done in a while, it was really honestly forever ago when I wrote one. But this is also my first tickle fic, and what better way to celebrate that than by writing about a couple of my adorable OCs? You can check them out on the link âOC Linksâ on my blog, and I suggest you do and ask me about them bc I love to talk about my darlings. <3
Also thanks to @nerdy-giggles for convincing me to post this bc theyâre a sweetie. And what are titles.
ANYWAY.
Summary: Myarel is getting rather annoyed with Isaacâs pranks. Finally he corners Isaac and gets his revenge. Isaac learns that he probably shouldnât mess with his friend like this again...
Warnings: No real warnings here, just some language. All of my fics will be sex-free. :3
Isaac- Hebrew name that translates to âlaughterâ or âhe laughsâ.
The white-haired man was enjoying the quiet that came with the dusk, sitting in the barnâs loft and facing the road, smoking a cigarette and letting the smoke out through his nose. The sun had just barely set, and the moon was beginning to rise. One of his bare feet was hanging down above the doors to the barn, the other propped on the edge of the loft. He was aware that he had hay on his jacket, but he didnât careâ the peace and quiet was worth it.
Especially since Isaac had been messing with him for the past 3 days.
First heâd offered Myarel a cigarette, but it turned out to be a joke buzzer disguised as a cigarette box. Next time he put an ice cube down the back of Myarelâs shirtâ one of the reasons why he rarely wore shirts, and only his jacket. Cold didnât bother him, but cold sliding down the back of his shirt without warning did. Then heâd done the old-as-dirt whipped cream and feather trickâ and he ran off before Myarel could smack him with his cream-covered hand. Heâd put a bucket filled with ice water on top of the door to the barn and nearly broken a rib laughing when Myarel glared at him like an angry, wet cat. Heâd tied Myarelâs ankles together while he was dozing and shoved him, and Myarel fell flat on his face getting up to chase him. Heâd taken off with Myarelâs jacket and gave it to Lyn, who, thankfully, was kind enough to give it back.
The last time Isaac pranked him was when he innocently gave a sleep-deprived Myarel a cup of coffee⊠with salt instead of sugar. Isaac took off and Myarel just smacked his head on the kitchen table, groaning. Lyn was snorting as he patted Myarelâs back.
âDamn, man, heâs been gettinâ you good, ainât he?â
Myarel mumbled something in German under his breath, and the Southerner ruffled his hair. âDonâ worry. Heâll slip up, ân then you c'n get âim.â
Myarel purred slightly at the fingers in his hair, and then the blind man was gone.
And now here he was in the loft of the barn, hoping that, at the very least, Isaac was asleep. He was so focused on thinking about what had to be done tomorrow that he didnât notice Isaac creeping up behind him, silently ascending on the ladder and grabbing an armful of hay.
Without warning, Isaac dumped the hay on the older man, and Myarel nearly fell out of the loft. For a split second he felt panic rise in him, but he remembered his teleportation and disappeared, reappearing behind Isaac. The blond was bent over laughing, clutching his stomach and going pink in the face.
âFuck, mahan, that was so fuckinâ funny, you shouldâve seen how you reacted!â Isaac turned to face him, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Myarel was not pleasedâ he had hay everywhere. In his hair, in his jacket, covering his legs⊠his cigarette was clenched between his teeth, and it took all he had not to growl while he glared daggers at Isaac with sapphire eyes.
In his anger, he realized he was blocking Isaacâs escape routeâ and he got an evil idea of how to get his revenge. He smirked devilishly, and suddenly Isaacâs emerald eyes showed confusion and a little bit of fear. The demon put out his cigarette between his fingers, looking his friend in the eye.
âIsaac, mein freund⊠you fucked up.â
He grabbed Isaac by his vest, glad that the younger always kept his white undershirt unbuttoned, and pinned him down in the hay, straddling him and leaning over him with a vicious grin. âIâll give you something to laugh about.â
Isaac was babbling, already knowing what was going to happen, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
âMyarel, hey, Iâm sorry I messed with you, you donât have to do this, I-I promise Iâll stahahAHAHAP!â Isaacâs begging was cut off by Myarel sliding his fingers under his friendâs shirt and tickling under his arms. Just as Myarel thought, Isaac quickly brought his arms down, trapping the otherâs fingers there as he ducked his head to hide his blush.
âIsaac, you know I canât stop tickling you if youâve trapped my fingers.â The teasing was what drove the Russian insane, and Myarel, being the father of triplets, was far too good at it. Despite his instincts, Isaac lifted his arms enough to let the Germanâs hands go, only for them to dig into his ribcage, fingers vibrating between the bones.
Isaacâs ribs were nowhere near as ticklish, so his laughter died into hysterical giggles and snorts as he tried to grab Myarelâs hands to no avail. Myarel was also quite skilled at tickling, much to the blondâs dismay.
âNohoho, stohohop! Iâm gonna dihihihie!â He whined, throwing his head back against the hay, and Myarel just chuckled.
âDo you promise not to prank me anymore?â Isaac nodded vigorously. âIhihi dohohoho!â
Myarel looked like he was thinking for a moment. âHm, I believe you, but I think I should give you an⊠incentive, in case you decide to change your mind.â
âNoho, wahahAHAIT!â The white-haired man dug his fingers into Isaacâs tummy, causing him to shriek and dissolve into helpless laughter. He tried to buck his hips to get Myarel off of him, but there was no way to escapeâ and when Myarel wiggled a finger into his navel, Isaac swore he was literally going to die by being tickled too much.
It got worse when the demonâs fingers rested on his now-exposed hips, but instead of tickling them, Myarel lowered his face toward his friendâs stomach. His slight stubble made the blondâs tummy twitch, but he held in his giggles and tried to reason with the man.
âNoâ donât you fuckinâ dare! Iâllâ AHAHAHAHAHA!â His threat was cut short by a loud raspberry being blown onto his stomach, and if he thought it couldnât get worse before, it was now. Because while Myarel continued to blow raspberries and torment Isaacâs tummy with his stubble, his thumbs dug into Isaacâs hips.
âYouâll what, hm? Laugh? Thatâs not going to stop meâŠ. it seems youâve gotten more sensitive since the last time I tickled you, too. Thatâs rather adorable.â He knew he was really getting to the blond now, if the change in the pitch of his laughter told him anything.
Isaac felt like he was going insaneâ no amount of shoving, smacking, kicking, or squirming could get him anywhere, and eventually he just weakly pounded Myarelâs back with his fists, his laughter finally silent, his face bright red and his eyes overflowing with tears of mirth.
Myarel took pity on his friend and decided heâd had his revenge, and he relinquished his attack, moving off of Isaac and sitting next to him in the hay. The red bandana the ex-pirate wore was just barely on his head due to his earlier squirming, and Myarel removed it to ruffle his sweaty, mussed-up hair. Isaac managed to get out an insult while he was catching his breath, covering his face with his hands.
âYouâre such⊠a fuckinâ⊠jerkâŠâ The white-haired man was pinning him with a hand on his chest in seconds, squeezing one hip and running his fingers over the blondâs lower belly. âAm I, now?â
Isaac was laughing hysterically again, frantically pushing at Myarelâs arm. âNOHOHO, STAHAHAHAP, IHIâM SOHOHORRY! AHAHAHAHA!â
Myarel let Isaac go again, returning to ruffling his hair. This time Isaac was silent except for his panting, and eventually he stretched his arms above his head, letting out a yawn. Myarel chuckled, fondly looking down at the boy he considered not just a friend, but a little brother.
âLooks like I tired you out, hm?â Isaac nodded, eyelids fluttering as he tried to stay awake. Myarel snorted and helped Isaac stand up, putting an arm around him to steady his wobbly legs.
âTake my arm.â Isaac did so, and they were instantly inside the living room of Lynâs farmhouseâ Isaacâs room was on the ground floor, while Myarelâs was on the upper floor. Myarel kept his arm around the younger man and helped him to his room.
Isaac looked at the hay covering his clothes and clutched his bandana in his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. âI should really take a showerâŠâ Instantly, Myarel was wiggling his fingers at the other, and he nearly fell backwards while moving away, giggling nervously. âOkay, okay, Iâll goho to sleep!â Myarel seemed satisfied by that statement. He gently squeezed Isaacâs shoulder, a lopsided grin crossing his lips.
âGuten Nacht, Isaac.â He was gone in an instant. Isaac snorted and removed his hay-covered clothes, putting them in his laundry basket, and brushed the hay out of his hair and off of his face before laying down to sleep, only in his boxers. Once he was curled up under his blankets, he was out like a light.
He didnât notice that Myarel came back after about a half hour just to ruffle his hair and smile fondly at him again.
Myarel- ancient Demon name translating to âgentleâ or âhe who shows gentilityâ.
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The province of Lyn is vast and nearly matches its size to itâs sister province, of Han. Though itâs stark differences are made by the environment. Being mainly coastal and rolling plains that only give way to a more forested region towards the center of the Averian continent and a small highland to the north.
Its people mainly are farmers and fisherman. Though there are rumored to be riches in the highlands of which the original capitol was built which drive many a merchant and treasure hunter to Lynâs doorstep as well as pirates. Though the main populace holds itself on the coast ever since the old capitol was razed by a great beast from the southern part of the continent. The people have since then migrated to the coast and adapted to the lifestyle there. Though some have turned to piracy and plague the waters of Haf.
Lyn is known as a naval trade hub of the continent and the world and their naval force is unmatched, to little surprise to its neighboring provinces. Though their navy is now being used to explore the rose of the world and the neighboring isles. Which they have reached. However due to this exploratory nature and their contact, a mock treaty and trade agreement was struck with the islandâs people to keep Lynâs naval affairs out of their waters, wishing to remain secluded from the main government of the continent. Due to this their hands are tied when it comes to some martial affairs in the northeastern most reaches of Haf. The other efforts of exploration have been sent to Grunn, though with little fruitful returns. Due to the treaty, the naval force has its hands relatively tied with the pirates as most would hide among the islands. Not that it was not without its dangers as well. But being in those waters has made it hard to apprehend pirates.
The treaty mentioned goes by the name âOcean Goddessâs Giftâ as previously mentioned, though these people wish not of Lynâs military power in their waters they were rich in resources that soured connections with Han made hard for the Lynites to obtain. But for the trade agreement and treaty to happen, the Lynites had to bring the island-folks religion to the mainland. Overseen by an ambassador and a priestess of high rank. So in exchange for bounty, the people were brought a new religion focused around an ocean goddess. Thus earning its name by the people.
Due to religious influences and martial affairs, the main religion focuses around the cult of the ocean goddess. Though old churches to a fertility goddess still stand and have a following, it is all but dying out. Mainly residing in the southern part of the continent. Especially among groups of elves.
Its people in the main city are quite diverse, ranging from half-dragons, people with sirenic and merfolk background, more sentient merfolk, spattering of elves, one bloodline of vampire that did not leave for Himmelen with the rest of their kin and even kindred to lamia and of course humans. However on the smaller townships, people are quite less diverse, where the only accepted race are merfolk and humans. Anything else is looked at with disdain. Especially those of sirenic bloodlines as most towns revolve around naval feats and Sirens have been the death of many a sailor. In some small hubs lamia are held with higher regard and merfolk non-existent, but is mainly inland and more southern towards Reir.
