#lee!jamil

C: Chase | What are their chances in a chase, both as a lee and ler?

Ler: He's fast and he's agile. Good luck.

Lee: still fast and agile, but so is the basketball team + ruggie. Will use magic to defend himself.

D: Death Spot | What is their most ticklish spot?

His armpits take him out. All his sleeveless outfits make me want to pounce. They're right there!!! He would slam his arms down as a reflex but that just traps the lers hands in there. His basketball teammates are MENACES with this information.

I also hc that ruggie is a big sniffer and he just loves Jamil's scent so much, he wants to get it right from the source. Jamil will push his head out of his pit and call him a pervert, trying to hide how ticklish it is. Once rug bug finds this out, he does it more often on purpose. Sniffing up there while he tickles Jamil's sides with his fingers. (Turn this into a fic later ✍️)

K: Killer Move | As a ler, do they have special skills to use against their lees and drive them crazy with?

this was so fun to think about. I can see him stradling and trapping a lee between his legs while going to town on their lower back

With Ruggie, pulling at his tail/ears to suprise him and then peppering his neck with kisses

T: Teasing | Their most favorite methods of teasing their lee/ler?

I don't see him as a big talker. He's very focused and dedicated to the craft. Will tease ruggie about how much he likes it to get him all flustered.

U: Unusual | Do they have some unusual tickle spots? Where?

You and Ruggie had gotten quite close too, sometime after you two had worked together to stop Leona when he overblotted.

The point was, you guys were friends now, and you were going to visit Jamil’s dorm for the first time to study with him and his not-quite-yet boyfriend.

You were a bit worried if you’d be lost, and part of you wondered if you should have asked Jamil to meet you at the front, but it turned out the layout was quite simple. You looked at the doors, each with names written on them, indicating whose dorm it was. As you walked down the hall, you could hear… laughter? Quite a bit, at that. It wasn’t any of your business, you thought to yourself, until you found yourself at the source of the laughter. In front of Jamil’s door.

You peeked your head in, the laughter too loud for the sound of the door opening to be heard. What you saw was definitely not something you had put on your bingo card that year.

Ruggie and Jamil were having a tickle fight. Or rather, maybe a tickle attack by the way that Jamil was clearly losing.

“...Oh?” You sputtered, weakly. You were unsure if you should interrupt, but by the look on Jamil’s face, you made the right choice. Ruggie’s movements faltered, leaving Jamil an opportunity to scurry away. A pout ever present on his face, you turned to Ruggie, with the biggest shit-eating grin you had ever seen on his face. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, hey. Did you know that Jamil is ticklish?”

“Oh shut it– Don’t act like you aren’t too.”

Well, this was a strange situation you found yourself in.

“That’s a lot of talk for someone who was laughing under me! Shyeheehee!”

“You say that, but if I remember correctly, last time I was the winner.”

… Should you go? Were you interrupting?

“Okay, that’s it. I’ll prove it to you!” And just like that, Ruggie was on top of Jamil, tickling him like there was no tomorrow. Jamil burst out into immediate laughter, despite his obvious attempts to hide it, and you.. Well, you just stood there, a bit unsure of what you should be doing.

You moved more into the room, shutting the door behind you, trying to gain some sort of normalcy. Perhaps, if you were with others like Ace and Deuce, you would have found it normal. Is this just something not-couples do?

“You’re way more ticklish. Don’t even deny it,” Somehow, in the midst of you sitting at the table in the center of the room, unpacking your stuff, Jamil had gotten the upperhand. Ruggie was laughing hard, his tail swishing fervently beside him. Wasn’t the whole argument about which one was ticklish? Not which one was more so?

You waited for them to stop, which the two were stubborn, so it took a bit. However, at last, Jamil was laughing, begging for mercy where Ruggie teased him relentlessly.

“You’re clearly the more ticklish one here. It’s okay to admit it. Hehehe…”

“I don’t know, it seemed like a tie to me,” You piped in, laughing to yourself. The two whipped their heads toward you, as if the fact they just had a tickle fight in front of you caught up to them. They even looked a bit embarrassed, before Jamil realized what you said.

“That’s definitely not true!” He crossed his arms. Ruggie seemed overjoyed at your comment, sitting up.

“They’re just being nice, of course. It was definitely you. You lost, remember?” Ruggie chuckled, even though that definitely wasn’t what you were saying. At all. You decided not to comment.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We are meant to work on our assignments, anyway.” Jamil sat next to you, reaching his textbooks out of his bag. After Ruggie caught his breath, he moved to join you too.

A few minutes later, the three of you actually managed to get a lot of studying done, tickling all but forgotten.

That is, until you heard a snicker beside you. Ruggie’s tail swished behind him, as it looked like Jamil had poked him to get his attention. Ruggie rolled his eyes, moving to retaliate. . Again? Is this just what went on whenever the two of them were together?

“Wait,” Jamil said, gesturing towards you, who smiled awkwardly.

Ruggie spoke, his voice laced with curiosity. “Hey,” You tilted your head. “You ticklish?”

Jamil raised a brow, but then turned to you, as well. Your eyes widened. What kind of..?!

You cleared your throat with a cough. Now, there are three ways you could go about this.

Say yes: Get tickled.

Say no: Get tickled.

Say a little: …Maybe get tickled..?

Or maybe, maybe you wouldn’t get tickled at all! It wasn’t that you hated being tickled, but… it was embarrassing. You don’t get tickled often, and your reactions are wild and all over the place. Knowing Ruggie and Jamil, they’d eat it up, with their teasing remarks.

Now that you think about that, walking into a tickle fight with them was not as out of character as you had initially believed.

The truth is, there was no right answer. You may truly be in danger.

“...Ah, a little?” You stuttered out, uncertainty in your tone.

This time, Ruggie and Jamil made eye contact, an evil glint in their eyes and like they had coordinated it, they had jumped on you. Ruggie pinned you down to the ground, holding your arms up with his knees with ease. You hadn’t been prepared for it at all, and almost immediately after realizing you were stuck, Jamil had started tickling you, a bit shyly at first but it seemed like when Ruggie and Jamil were paired together, they were a tad more sadistic than they had let on.

You burst into immediate laughter, completely bewildered that something like this was happening in the first place. Ruggie, still sitting on his knees on your arms, joined in, scribbling your neck and ears, while all you could do was squirm and giggle.

“Nohoho, wahahait!” You cried, already feeling overwhelmed, as you thrashed around.

“Seems like we have our answer. Shyeheehee..”

“Aren’t you a bit embarrassed?” Jamil teased, clearly trying to be nonchalant, but the slight curl of his lips gave him away.

“H-hush..!” You laughed, trying to move out from underneath Ruggie’s knees. Jamil tickled you anywhere he could, each finding spots more sensitive than the next.

“Definitely more ticklish than us, right?” Ruggie asked out loud, and you couldn’t even answer if you wanted to, too caught up in your laughter.

“That’s debatable. You’re pretty high up there, Ruggie,” Jamil chuckled, a smirk clear in his features.

Ruggie gasped at that. “You–” He leaped onto Jamil, who had flinched when Ruggie began to tickle him instead, leaving you an opportunity to get away. Or… join in?

Before you could second guess yourself, you helped Ruggie in tickling Jamil. Instead of you laughter, it was his. You noted down the spots that made him laugh, in case you needed it later, but it wasn’t especially difficult.

Ruggie was gripping his arms, kneading at his biceps. You hadn’t even known someone could be ticklish there, but it was proving to be very effective indeed. You tickled his sides, squeezing at the sensitive skin, a bit in awe.

“Nohoho! Whahahat?!” Jamil gasped, looking utterly betrayed.

“That’s what you get, hehe!” Ruggie giggled, looking delighted and so ecstatic, you almost felt bad for Jamil. Almost.

“I think you deserve this.. You started it,” You said, which was true. You don’t think you could have imagined being the one to tickle him first.

“Gahaha! So did Ruggie! Get him!” Jamil added, which was technically right. And taking another look at him, he looked halfway to dying, so you decided to show a bit of mercy to him by latching your hands onto Ruggie’s waist instead.

“N-nahaha! Y-ya weren’t s’posed tohoho listehehehen!” Ruggie immediately curled into himself. You doubled down, leaning towards him to straddle him. He was on his back as you started scratching at his tummy, to very satisfying results. After Jamil had caught his breath, which didn’t take too long, he had started playing with Ruggie’s ears. You laughed upon seeing how his ears twitched at the, you assumed, ticklish sensation.

“Even with such small touches, you’re reduced to laughter,” Jamil added.

“Sohoho ahahare you guys!” Ruggie shot back, which admittedly, didn’t really do much when it was paired up with his cackles. You noted the differences in their laughter. Jamil’s was deeper, more breathy and gentle. On the other hand, Ruggie’s was higher pitched, more cackly, much like a hyena. And you… you didn’t even wanna think about what your laughter sounded like. You flushed at the thought of it.

Ruggie tried fighting back, with all his might, but apparently tickling someone and then getting tickled could really wear you down. You were beginning to understand that too. It didn’t take long before he had given up on fighting back, despite how obvious he wanted to, his boisterous laughter filling the air.

“Ohohokay! You guhuuys win!” Ruggie shouted at last, a shrill tone in his voice. You both stopped, giving each other a satisfied grin.

“That was fun,” You admitted. Unexpected? Absolutely. But it definitely was not unwelcome. In fact, you felt even closer to the two.

“Glad you had fun,” Ruggie rolled his eyes, jokingly.

“I, for one, had a great time reducing you both to pieces,” Jamil replied, and you shoved at him halfheartedly.

“I recall you being completely wrecked too?”

“Whatever…”

“A tickle fight, though? I would have never expected to see that from you guys.” You said, honestly.

“Blame Ruggie. He was the one who started it,” Jamil said, turning towards the table.

“Cuz you said you weren’t ticklish. Obviously, I had to prove you wrong.”

Jamil didn’t have a response to that, so you laughed. “Well, either way, it was fun. But, should we get back to studying now?”

"Over by the cushions! No, wait, the silk cushions, not the velvet ones!" Kalim’s voice ringed out over the din, bright and completely unfazed by the heat. He was vibrating with energy, turning back and forth as he managed the chaos upfront. "And make sure the hibiscus tea is placed near the entrance! Oh, and Jamil, you won’t believe what Trein said during History today. He actually thought I was asleep, but I was just looking for my quill under the desk. And then—"

Jamil wasn’t listening.

He was standing entirely rigid, his eyes locked onto a single, meaningless knot in the wooden floorboards. His brows were furrowed so deeply it was a wonder his face hadn’t frozen that way. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest but not in his usual posture of calm disapproval no, he was using his hands to press his elbows viciously hard against his ribs. Because beneath his vest, his ribs were thrumming with a miserable and unforgiving buzz.

It had started yesterday for absolutely no good reason. Phantom, maddening tingle that made him want to claw his own skin off. And today it intensified ten times. He couldn't focus on the upcoming party, couldn't focus on Kalim’s mindless chatter, and he absolutely, desperately should be focusing. If a single detail went wrong, it was his head on the chopping block. But every time he took a breath, the buzzing intensified, threatening to force a humiliating, breathless gasp out of his throat.

"Uh... Vice Housewarden Jamil?"

Jamil blinked and looked around himself, a faint trace of genuine surprise flickering across his usually unreadable face. The massive banquet tables were already fully set and gleaming. When he had walked into the room, they had been completely empty. How long had he been standing there like a statue? Minutes?

Jamil snapped out of it, his gaze tearing away from the floorboards to blink at a terrified sophomore holding a tray of honeyed figs.

"Where do I put this?"

"Put it...over there. Next to the dates," Jamil commanded waving his hand in some direction, his voice miraculously smooth despite the storm raging under his sides. He smoothly pivoted, clapping a hand onto Kalim’s shoulder with just enough force to ground himself. "Kalim. Can I trust you to oversee the rest of the preparations yourself for a moment?"

"Huh? Me?" Kalim blinked, his large eyes widening with a mix of pride and sudden panic. "I mean, yeah! Of course I can. You can count on me."

"I just have to meet somebody. I'll be right back," Jamil said, his tone dropping into that dark, warning register he used whenever Kalim was about to do something profoundly idiotic. "Do not make anything stupid while I am gone."

With a curt nod, he excused himself, turning on his heel and pacing out of the lounge.

The moment he hit the halls, his composure began to fray. The corridors were blissfully, utterly empty. Every single resident had been dragged into Kalim’s party planning hurricane. The only sound was the frantic, heavy rustle of Jamil’s own sandals against the plush red carpets.

His hands dropped from his chest and wrapped tightly around his forearms as he rubbed at them, trying to soothe the excruciating, annoying sensation thrumming right beneath his flesh. It was a humiliating, ridiculous desire to be tickled. To be completely wrec—

He reached his room, threw himself inside, and slammed the heavy wooden door shut.

BANG!!

Jamil panted, trembling from the sheer strength he had put into that slam. This was getting so much worse. This was getting so incredibly stupid. It was ridiculous! He, He managed a whole dorm, an incompetent housewarden, and an entire network of spies and schedules!

He slowly slid down the door, burying his face in his hands with a harsh, muffled groan. What is wrong with me?

He couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something about it, or he was going to end up rolling around on the floor like a dying insect. But who?

Could he provoke Kalim? No. For all of Kalim’s oblivious faults, the boy was terrifyingly insightful when it came to Jamil's physical well-being. He’d notice something was wrong instantly.

Maybe...Ruggie? Jamil grimaced. The hyena would probably be more than happy to do it if Jamil paid him enough, but the sheer amount of blackmail material? Ruggie would tease him to the absolute end of his days. He’d never live it down.

But what if he used his signature spell?

The thought sparked a dangerous, brilliant line of logic. If he used his signature spell, he could force someone to do it, and they wouldn’t remember a single, embarrassing second of it. It would be the perfect crime. But he still needed the right candidate. He needed someone who would actually come to his room without questioning his motives, someone careful enough to follow exact instructions, and someone whose magical compliance wouldn't shatter under pressure.

Azul Ashengrotto.

The name rang through his head, bringing an immediate wave of equal parts visceral disgust and desperate hope.

No, anyone but him, Jamil thought, squeezing his eyes shut. Azul was a scheming, manipulative parasite. He would come right into Jamil's hands, with no questions, and he would do it fast. Plus, Azul’s meticulous nature meant he would follow orders perfectly under hypnosis.

"Okay," Jamil muttered through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, sharp resolve. "Azul it is then.." Azul was about to become a very unwilling and a very oblivious savior.

–––

Though he'd argue with the term unwilling. It was probably the wrong word for it. If we'll remove the spell and look into Azul's real motives then he wouldn't seem unwilling at all. In fact, if left to his own subconscious devices, the octopus murest would probably find a twisted, genuine joy in having the fiercely independent Jamil Viper entirely at his mercy.

Oh, how Jamil did not want that. But beggar mages couldn't be choosers. Thank the Seven the universe had granted him such a beautifully toxic gift as his signature spell. Honestly, it had saved his flesh more times than he cared to admit.

And here he was.

The Hall of Mirrors was transitionally freezing. The sudden drop from Scarabia’s desert heat to the enchanted stone chamber made Jamil shudder, the chill biting sharply into his exposed skin. Scarabia’s uniforms were deliberately designed for a wasteland. Loose silks, bare midriffs, sleeveless vests. He was already imagining how these clothes would make him feel once he crossed over into the Octavinelle dorm, which was literally underwater. Imagining how those revealing, easily accessible clothes would play so perfectly into Azul’s hands. The annoying buzzing in his ribs flared up viciously at the thought, a sharp spark of heat in the cold room. AHEM. He needed to stop thinking about it.

–––

The Mostro Lounge was operating at its usual sleek, bustling rhythm. The clinking of expensive glassware, the low murmur of jazz, and the sea of black tuxedos made Jamil stand out like a burning ember.

"Oh? Jamil?"

Azul’s voice rang out, smooth and dripping with calculated hospitality as he spotted the Scarabia vice housewarden standing near the entrance. Azul was at his usual table, elegantly folding a silk handkerchief in his hands. He looked up, adjusted his glasses, and offered a smug, practiced smile.

"What an entirely unexpected pleasure. To see you coming to me, rather than the other way around... well, I must admit my curiosity is piqued. Did Kalim finally overspend his budget, or are you looking to negotiate a trade agreement for Scarabia’s spices?" He purred, leaning over the counter.

Jamil didn't answer immediately. He took a slow, deliberate breath. His dark eyes fixed onto Azul’s blur ones. He felt the magic building in the back of his throat, warm and heavy.

"No business today, Azul," Jamil said, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic cadence. He took a step forward, the crimson magic bleeding into his irises, glowing faintly in the dim lounge lighting. "I just came here to check on you. You won't mind it, right?"

Azul opened his mouth to deliver another sharp, witty retort but the words died on his tongue.

A sudden, heavy wave of dizziness washed over Azul’s mind. It wasn't a painful sensation; rather, it felt like someone had poured warm, thick honey directly into his thoughts. The sharp, analytical edges of his brain suddenly softened. The bustling noise of the Lounge faded into a distant, muffled hum. Why was Jamil here? It didn't matter. It was completely fine. It was... incredibly casual. Normal, even. Why should he question it? Jamil was just a friend checking in. A very dormant, peaceful fog settled over his consciousness, wiping away every ounce of his usual paranoia.

Azul’s sharp eyes glazed over, losing their frantic, calculating spark, staring blankly ahead. "Right...I don't mind at all.."

Jamil took another step closer, his own heart hammering against his ribs. Both from the strain of holding the spell and the maddening buzz still tormenting his sides. He needed to get Azul away from the crowd before the octopus did something unscripted.

"Mind if we... move into your room, please?" Jamil murmured, the crimson glow in his eyes pulsing gently. "You wouldn't mind that one too, right?"

"Yes...of course..." Azul droned.

Without a single shred of hesitation, Azul neatly set his silk handkerchief down on the table. He completely forgot about the dozens of paying customers filling his lounge. He forgot about his ledgers, his profits, and his schemes. Moving with slow, heavy, but entirely persistent steps, Azul turned on his heel and began walking toward his private dormitory quarters.

His mind was completely, beautifully blank. He didn't question why they were going to his bedroom. He didn't question why Jamil's breathing was slightly ragged. He just followed the warm, red command echoing in his head, leading the way into the quiet darkness of his bedroom.

–––

The heavy door to Azul’s private quarters clicked shut, sealing out the last remaining murmurs of the Mostro Lounge. The room was cool, cast in the deep, submerged blues of the underwater dorm, and the sudden quiet was almost deafening.

Azul stood like a perfectly tailored statue in the center of the room, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his eyes wide and completely unblinking behind his frames. He was entirely at Jamil’s disposal, a blank canvas waiting for ink.

Now that the door was locked and the spell had successfully isolated them, the sheer exhaustion of fighting his own body caught up to him. With his composure slipping, the phantom thrumming in his ribcage flared up like a roaring fire. His hands instantly flew to his sides, his fingers clawing desperately through the thin silk of his Scarabia vest, trying to crush the agonizing, invisible tickle that was threatening to tear a breathless sob from his throat.

Jamil forced his eyes open, his pupils glowing a sharp, intense crimson as he locked his gaze back onto the hypnotized Octavinel housewarden.

"M-move on to the bed," Jamil commanded, an uncharacteristic, slight hesitation cracking through his voice. "Sit down on it."

As the words left his mouth, a sudden wave of paranoia washed over him, making him feel deeply uneasy. What if he had been wrong his entire life? What if, under the right conditions, the victims of Snake Whisper actually could remember the events that took place? Or what if the hypnosis hadn’t actually worked this time, and Azul was just pretending to obey his orders purely for the sake of his own twisted amusement? Even if none of those terrifying theories were true, it was still profoundly weird talking to Azul like this even though Jamil was perfectly aware the man was no more than an empty puppet right now, mindlessly waiting for orders.

"Yes.." Azul murmured. Without a second thought, he walked up toward his bed and sat perfectly straight, placing his hands neatly on his lap. So entirely oblivious.

Jamil cleared his throat. He now had absolutely everything he needed: isolation, a big bed, and Azul. But now that the moment was here, he just didn't know how to start all of this without giving himself terminal second-hand embarrassment. His cheeks burned with a sudden, furious heat as he dragged himself over to Azul's bed. He lay down on the mattress, groaning aloud at his own stupidity and the utter ridiculousness of the situation.

Frustrated and overwhelmed, he buried his face in his hands, using the movement to finally force his elbows away from his agonizing torso.

"Azul," Jamil called out from behind his palms. "...Tickle me. N-now."

He mumbled the command through his fingers, which suddenly served as an accidental blindfold. Because of it, Jamil was taken by complete shock when he felt ten fingers suddenly digging straight into his exposed sides. He choked on a startled, breathless yelp, caught completely off-guard by the unexpectedness of the touch more than the sensation itself.

Well, it didn't take long for the actual sensation to catch up, violently pushing a wave of frantic laughter right out of Jamil's chest.

"Gh-ACK!! A-Azul!" Jamil croaked, instantly erupting into a fit of frantic giggles, the volume of which he couldn't control as Azul’s fingers vibrated cruelly against his sensitive flanks.

"Yes?" Azul replied blankly at the mention of his own name, his hands not ceasing their relentless attack for even a second.

"NOhoOT SO FAHAST!! AaAghh- HahaHA—!" Jamil exclaimed absentmindedly. He didn't even care what he was saying at this point, just desperately throwing out words to fill up the awkward, thrumming silence of the room around them.

True to the hypnotic command, Azul reacted to the order, immediately slowing the frantic pace of his fingers. Jamil groaned in frustration, the sound muffled against his arms. That was not what he meant! The sudden deceleration was a different kind of torture. Instead of shutting the buzzing, Azul’s slowed, deliberate movements were just dragging the agonizing tickle out!

Now, how on earth was he supposed to force himself to ask this puppet to speed back up? The sheer humiliation of having to beg his rival for an aggressive tickling was almost worse than the physical torment.

"Azul," he called his name again, his voice tight. He exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching as he found himself completely unable to voice the ridiculous words swirling on his tongue. Faster. Squeeze harder. It felt like swallowing glass just thinking about saying that out loud.

But Azul was merely waiting, his dulled, hypnotic gaze fixed on Jamil’s squirming form, his fingers lightly pacing across Jamil's ribs at a torturously lazy, rhythmic crawl. It was driving Jamil insane.

"Increase...the speed," Jamil finally managed to hiss out between gritted teeth, his glowing red eyes flashing open past his fingers to glare helplessly at the ceiling. "Go back to how it was before."

"Yes," Azul droned.

The response was instantaneous. Like a machine being switched back to high gear, Azul’s hands suddenly dug back into Jamil’s waist with a ruthless, vibrating friction. The leather of his gloves practically targeted the most hyper-sensitive spots on Jamil's flanks, kneading and scratching with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that sent Jamil's back arching off the sheets.

"Pff—ahAHAHA!!" Jamil’s legs immediately kicked out against the heavy blankets, his entire torso arching off the bed as the frantic, uncontrollable laughter exploded from him once more. He twisted violently, his hands abandoning his face to instinctively try and swat at Azul’s wrists, but the hypnotized housewarden was relentless, shifting his weight to trap Jamil’s frantic movements and continuing the merciless assault.

"WahAHAit, Azul, stop—!" The word flew out of Jamil’s mouth completely absentmindedly, a desperate, knee-jerk reaction to a particularly brutal scribble right against his lower ribs.

Instantly, Azul’s hands froze. True to the absolute, unyielding compliance of the hypnosis, the Octavinel housewarden stopped moving entirely, his fingers remaining lightly hovered just millimeters away from Jamil’s flushed, trembling waist.

The sudden silence in the room was deafening. Jamil lay flat on his back, his chest heaving as he stared at the ceiling, panting heavily. The immediate absence of the touch allowed that agonizing, maddening buzz beneath his skin to rush right back into his flanks, thrumming more intensely than before.

Jamil let out another deeply frustrated groan. He closed his eyes tight, thoroughly annoyed at his own stupid reflexes.

"Don't stop!" Jamil snapped immediately, his voice a mix of a command and sheer, desperate irritation. He threw his head back into the pillow, his hands gripping the sheets.

"Understood," Azul replied blankly, entirely unfazed by the sudden outburst.

Without a single moment of hesitation, those leather-gloved hands dug straight back into the hyper-sensitive dips of Jamil's sides, picking up right where they had left off with a ruthless, vibrating friction.