#ler!jester

That was something he still hadn’t gotten used to, the physical closeness that seemed to naturally come to the group. It was one thing to see them be close with each other, but to openly and unabashedly include him in things like hugs and gentle touches on the arm was both intimidating yet inviting. He still wasn’t sure what to think of it.

He thought about this as he made his way to the living room, only to find an unexpected sight on the couch.

Laying there were three figures, Beau was seated with her back to the arm of the couch, turned and holding Caleb’s arms back in a hug from behind while he was laid out. Jester sat on top of his legs, wiggling her fingers menacingly towards him.

“Come on, Caleb,” she sang in a teasing voice, “you need to relax! You always get so worked up before a lesson, there’s nothing to be nervous about!”

“I do not!” He protested through his laughter, kicking his legs and squinting his eyes shut as he refused to look at her.

“Bullshit,” Beau replied from behind him. “You get way too in your own head, you know you need to loosen up a little bit.”

“That is not true at a-HAHAHAHALL!” He was interrupted as Jester brought her hands down to his ribs, gently scribbling underneath the holsters that were always by his sides. With his head thrown back, cackling like mad for all the room to hear, it was clear the hysterical laughter had been coming from him this entire time.

Normally Essek would have made his presence known by now, but he was captivated by the sight of Caleb’s flushed, smiling face as his high pitched, hysterical laughter flowed. He would never have expected that such a sound could have come from his current student. It captured all of his focus, making it so he could barely process what was being said around him, only the sound of cackles seemed to reach his ears clearly. He didn’t even notice when Caduceus came back into the room with a tray of cups and cookies in his hands.

“Alright, who wants drinks?” He called out, suddenly pulling Essek back to reality, and gaining the attention of Caleb’s torturers.

“Oh, me!” Jester shouted happily as she leapt off of Caleb, skipping her way to Caduceus. She didn't even glance at Essek as she grabbed a cup along with a cookie on the side to dip in it.

“Sweet,” Beau let go of Caleb’s arms, only to turn and stop suddenly when she spotted Essek in the doorway. Caleb was quick to follow her gaze, nearly choking when he noticed his mentor.

“E-Essek!” He scrambled to get off the couch, being sure to stand tall as he fixed his ruffled hair. “I, um, I did not mean to- ah, keep you waiting.”

Beau awkwardly got up from her spot and made her way to Caduceus, grabbing a cup of tea to sip on while she watched the mess unfold.

Essek became aware of how warm his face felt, imagining it had become a bright magenta by now. Clearing his throat, he tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible.

“Oh, of course. It was, ah, not a long wait at all.” He quickly grabbed a cup of tea and started sipping.

Caleb made sure to avoid eye contact as he rushed out the door. “I will meet you in the usual spot.” He said swiftly as he brushed past.

Caduceus chuckled, making a note to bring him some tea later. “Don’t worry about him. Laughter’s good for the soul, some people just need a bit more help with it than others.” With that he slipped out of the room back to the kitchen, Beau closely tailing him with a smirk. Jester was the only one that stayed in the room.

“Oh boy,” she whispered, still with a smile on her face. “Caleb’s probably, like, embarrassed or something."

Essek stared at her, finally able to control his expression now that Caleb had left. “I, um, did not mean to cause anyone discomfort.”

“Oh, it’s totally not your fault,” she explained. “Caleb just thinks too much, so we sometimes have to get him to let go and not think for a while. He always gets all red and blushy when we tickle him though. It’s super cute, isn’t it?” She stared back at Essek, a single eyebrow raised, trying to gauge his reaction.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his composure. Caleb was usually as well composed as he was. Seeing him suddenly with his guard down, laughing without care or need to keep up usual appearances, it was strange. But not unwelcome. “It was definitely… different.”

“Yeah, he’s so serious all the time. It’s nice making him laugh like that.” She smirked.

Oh, she had definitely noticed his face flushing earlier, there was no doubt that her mischievous gaze was analyzing him that whole time. He tried sipping from the cup again to calm himself.

“You know,” she continued, “I bet you could try it out yourself.”

He nearly spat out his tea, catching himself right before it could go down the wrong pipe.

“Ooooo, I bet he would totally love it! You know, he absolutely loves when we do it, he never fights it or tells us to stop. We usually do it when he’s feeling nervous.”

When was the last time he engaged in tickling? It must have been decades, the only memories coming to mind being from his youth with his brother, even then the memories were few and far between. No, their relationship, though becoming more casual, still remained somewhat professional. What would Caleb think if Essek were to break that persona he’d built up after all this time, suddenly behaving so childishly? It would destroy any respect he had for him. The fact that he was even considering such a thing was ludicrous.

Her eyebrows raised suggestively. “You know, he’s probably even more nervous to be alone in a room with you now. It could help…”

“If you don’t mind, we have a lesson to get to,” Essek brushed his clothes off as he floated off the ground, bringing his cup with him.

“You should totally do it!” She called after him, though he was already out the door.

As fast as his magic allowed him, he floated to Caleb’s room, where they usually held their lessons to avoid any distractions (mostly Jester).

He shut the door behind him before he turned to Caleb, already with notes out on his writing desk and books opened. He was always prepared for whatever lessons Essek would throw at him, but today he shifted awkwardly in his chair, not quite sure where to put his hands or where to look.

Essek cleared his throat. “So, shall we?” He asked, using mage hand to pull a chair next to him before taking a seat.

He tried to get through an introduction, but found himself distracted every time he tried to look Caleb in the eyes to see if he was following. Each time he did, his mind flashed back to earlier, when that face was alight with the widest smile he’d ever seen on him. His face flushed each time, and he decided to just look down at the books and references he had out.

Caleb usually followed just fine, but he seemed a bit distracted as well. He gave grunts and little nods to show that he was listening, but no verbal confirmation. Every time he looked over and met Essek’s gaze, he quickly averted his eyes. It was evident that neither of them were in the state of mind to give or receive a lesson.

Essek put a hand to his head, rubbing at the temple trying to get himself together. Perhaps it would be best if they postponed the lesson-

“I apologize about before.” Caleb blurted out. “Before the lesson I mean. We were goofing off, and it was unprofessional, and I did not mean for you to, ah, to keep you waiting.” His apology seemed to spill out faster as he rambled on. “And I- I hope you do not think of me any less. Less than capable.”

It took a lot to stun Essek, and this was a rare moment that he was taken aback. “Think less of you? Is that really what you're worried about?”

Caleb lowered his head, afraid his embarrassment would be obvious if he could see his expression.

“Mr. Widowghast, I’ve seen you do extraordinary things. You have faced dragons, faced leaders of nations, learned magic far faster than anyone I’ve ever seen, and taken to dunamancy like it’s second nature to you. You are nothing if not capable.” He found himself unable to stop his stream of praise, only just catching himself as he thought about the other things he loved about him. “What would make you think I thought any less of you?”

Caleb’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected, sincere praise. “It’s just, this lesson, it has been tense.” He sighed in relief, addressing the elephant in the room. “I suppose that is mostly my fault though. I have not let many people close enough to see me like… that. I suppose my imagination made me feel like you saw me differently.”

Guilt washed over Essek, realizing that either Caleb was more perceptive than he thought, or he hadn’t been keeping as straight a face as he hoped he had. Jester’s words echoed in his mind, ‘he’s probably even more nervous to be alone in a room with you.’ Has his behavior affected Caleb that much?

“I apologize, Mr. Widowgast,” he admitted, “I didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort, I was just… surprised I suppose. I cannot say I’ve been around many people who, ah, act so carefree with each other.” Not to mention he had never seen Caleb laugh so freely before, but there was only so much information he was willing to admit.

“Ah. I see.” Caleb smiled. “Even I have not gotten entirely used to everything our little group throws at me. Especially the more mischievous ones.”

That small smile brought Essek’s eyes back on him. Gentle and sincere, but it had him craving more of it. Jester's words of advice, and temptation, rang through his head. ‘You should totally do it!’ It was selfish, he knew, but he felt restless just looking at it. He needed to see that bright, wide grin again. But he couldn’t risk losing Caleb’s trust.

That’s when another piece of advice played through his head. What was it Jester had said earlier? ‘We sometimes have to get him to let go and not think for a while.’ He’d definitely been distracted throughout the lesson as well, lost in his own thoughts and doubts. That could be his ticket.

“You still seem to be awfully tense,” he commented.

Caleb chuckled nervously. “I assure you I’m fine.” He still couldn’t make eye contact with the shadowhand. It was plain as day that there were lingering doubts remaining.

“Your friend mentioned something interesting.” He tried to bring it up naturally. “Apparently this silly activity of yours helps you to relax a bit.”

Caleb’s face was starting to match his hair. “I, um, they sometimes try it.”

“Does it work?”

“It can- I mean it’s, ah, you see the release of endorphins through-“ He continued his overly complicated explanation of how laughter causes one to feel happier, but Essek could only analyze his face and body language. He was closed in, as if protecting himself, all while his eyes were pointed strictly at the ground, but as he fiddled his hands it was clear there was a nervous excitement there. The lengthy explanation was a deflection, there was more to it than just an artificial way to boost his mood. Everything Jester had mentioned earlier, how he always got flushed and embarrassed when people brought up tickling him, he was shy about it.

And Essek needed to know more. He had to see his face scrunched up in an uncontrolled grin as he shook with laughter. It reminded him of when he first witnessed dunamantic magic being cast, the desire to know how it worked, a draw to the source of the power, wanting to know how it felt conjuring it with his own hands. He wanted to study Caleb just as thoroughly.

But if he wanted to conduct this experiment, he would need to be somewhat subtle.

“You know,” Essek interrupted, “I have never extensively studied the subject. Your explanation is fascinating, but surely you would understand that I prefer to do my own research?” Perhaps Jester’s mischievous nature had rubbed off on him a bit, because the way Caleb’s face lit up in surprise sent a certain thrill through him.

“I-I understand you are a curious individual.” Caleb finally managed through his flustered state, only half believing that this wasn’t some sort of dream. That he’d fallen asleep during the lesson and his desires had created a fantasy he was living.

“Then perhaps we can help each other. You can relax well in my presence, and I can satiate my curiosity.”

Caleb’s eyes widened as reality shook him. This was really happening.

His friends he could handle tickling him. Time with them had lowered his barriers, freeing his playful side that didn’t mind being seen as silly or unprofessional, but Essek was different. Sure, they were allies, and his trust in Essek had been slowly growing over the time he’d known him, but there was something about him that kept him on edge. He found himself analyzing every move he made around him, stared at his hands as he cast his magic, and any time he caught him staring he could feel his face flush. It felt like being a student at the academy again, watching his companions in admiration. Was it this admiration, or cautiousness that made him so anxious? Either way, the thought of Essek’s hands scribbling along his ribs made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

“Wait, Essek!” He tried to bargain as he scooted his chair further away, only succeeding at pinning himself closer to the wall, “Is this truly necessary?” He could already feel laughter beginning to bubble up in his belly as he grew more and more cornered, the feeling of inevitability taking over him.

“Oh, Mr. Widogast,” he chuckled, “you out of everyone should know how important hands-on experience is when it comes to the pursuit of knowledge.” He nudged his own chair over to him, close enough that he didn’t have to lean too far over to reach Caleb’s trembling frame.

Though he had little experience tickling anyone, his fingers had a sort of grace to them, similar to how he casted magic. The light, fluttering tips of his fingers found their way to Caleb’s sides, and the moment he felt them make contact the laughter started pouring over. He tried to hold it back, only being able to helplessly squirm in place while he brought his hands up to cover his mouth.

Ah, no real effort to get away, Essek noted. Not even so much as trying to get out of his seat, but enough self preservation to cover his most vulnerable targets, along with his smile.

Even with the protection of his clothes, Caleb’s nerves lit up with every brush. As he squirmed back and forth, Essek managed to find a spot where his shirt had ridden up, scribbling along the exposed skin near his hips as Caleb curled in on himself, trying his best to block the sensation while still holding his hands to his face.

“I’m starting to see why they had to hold your arms back,” Essek commented nonchalantly, a grin subtly growing.

“Scheiße!” Caleb snickered as he kicked his feet, already feeling his legs turn to jelly as ticklish shocks seemed to jolt his body.

Essek could feel his body twitch with every repressed snicker as he gently squeezed his sides. He tried shifting to his stomach, gently kneeling at the soft, vulnerable area, and the dam finally broke. Caleb giggled into his hands as he continued shielding his face. Not nearly the same level as the cackling Essek had heard from him earlier, but an entirely sweet, high pitched sound that danced its way to his ears. When he put a bit more pressure behind it, Caleb would kick his legs out and yelp in surprise.

Tickling him was like learning to play a new instrument, having to test the pressure and the rhythm of his fingers to get the best sounds. Essek wanted to learn them all, each technique that would bring forth more beautiful music.

In the meantime Caleb’s arms stubbornly remained where they were, keeping his book holsters in place to protect his ribs while still managing to turn his face away just enough to keep most of it covered.

Essek chucked in amusement, “This would be much easier if you moved your arms out of the way.” He poked around his under arms, wherever his fingers could sneak past under the careful guard. “Experiments need to be thoroughly detailed, no variable left unobserved.”

Caleb squeaked with each jab that came dangerously close to his most sensitive spots, fighting the urge to grab Essek’s hands just to get them to stop their torment.

“That should include taking notes,” he continued as he kept up the prodding. “A shame I don’t have any hands free. Perhaps, with that oh so keen mind of yours, you can recount the process from the beginning so I can create a journal entry.”

Caleb couldn’t tell if he was trying to tease intentionally or not, but Essek was a natural either way. He wasn’t sure what was worse: Jester's constant comments on his smile and laugh whenever she attacked him, or Essek’s nonchalant, analytical remarks.

“Ehehehehessek!” He whined through his hands, feeling like he would melt completely if Essek kept it up.

Essek froze for just a moment at the sound of his name. The sweet, light giggles were already so endearing, but the sound of Caleb giggling out his name? It was a melody. That itch to see his face, to hear him cackle and call out his name in a cacophony of laughter, it was near maddening.

The sudden stop was enough to throw Caleb off guard, just enough for him to relax slightly while he debated whether or not to open his eyes, fearful that if he made eye contact Essek would see right into his soul. That drop was all that Essek needed to shoot his hands under his holsters and start skittering across his ribs.

He thought Caleb’s scream from the living room had been loud, but now, right next to him with his fingers delicately teasing between his ribs, the sound was like an explosion.

“EHEHEHEHESSEK! NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! BITTE!” The surprise from the sudden attack right after a moment of relief made for a perfect storm. His hands immediately lowered from his face to try and desperately grab at the offending hands, and Essek finally had his prize.

Caleb’s head was thrown back in a smile that looked like it could split his face, it was so wide, and only now did Essek notice that he had dimples that lined both cheeks. From under his hands, sweat had been beading on his brow and gave his face a shimmer from the reflecting room light, all while crumpling his hair into a tangled, damp mess on his forehead. His entire face had turned nearly the same shade of red as his hair, burning so warm that Essek could practically feel him radiating heat.

It was… beautiful.

As Caleb started taking deep, greedy gulps of air, Essek realized his hands had stopped moving. How long had he been staring like this? A few moments? Hours? It felt like time had frozen while he was looking at him, like what he’d always imagined it would feel like to stop time completely.

And with that, the realization of just how close he was pressed to Caleb dawned on him. He retreated his hands and scooted his seat back, horrified.

As he backed away, Caleb curled in on himself, holding his aching sides as he took deep breaths to sooth his remaining laughter. He looked at Essek with those squinted, teary eyes of his, and it was almost enough to make him think it was worth it.

Almost.

“M-My apologies,” he stuttered out, “I did not mean to- I mean I didn’t-“ Oh Luxon help him. How could he have taken things so far, gotten so physically close to an associate? The professionalism he strived for, torn down by something as childish as this. Had being around this group for so long clouded his judgement that much?

“That was,” Caleb paused, still wheezing between breaths. “Unexpected, to say the least.”

Essek debated whether he should just turn and run out the door, or maybe just teleport away. That would at least save him the embarrassment of having to explain himself.

“I must admit, I thought Jester would be the one to keep me on my toes. If I didn’t know better I would say she put you up to it.” His playful, accusatory tone helped to ease the rushing panic, but embarrassment still flooded Essek’s mind.

“She may have mentioned… something.” He confessed.

Caleb just chuckled. “She truly is a menace.”

Essek finally snapped out of his trance, holding a hand out to help Caleb up.

“I'm sorry, again.”

Caleb stared at the hand before taking it, a huff of air escaping him as he stood.

“No need for apologies, my friend.”

He was about to insist when a realization hit him. Caleb had called him “friend”. Not sir, not “shadowhand”, nor any other title, just simply friend. He wasn’t sure the last time someone had called him that, even less so the last time someone meant it. He had made friends.

“This is all just so... different,” he sighed. The casualness of his relationship with the nein, the lack of any decorum or need for professionalism, all the things he’d spent years perfecting, suddenly thrown out the window, all to see Caleb’s smile and hear his laugh again.

“I think I know what you mean.” Caleb shyly rubbed the back of his head. “I haven’t had people to rely on, friends to rely on, in years. It’s new, scary almost, to drop your guard. It has taken me a long time to let go of,” he hummed as he gestured to himself. “Keeping up appearances. It’s hard to do so when you're surrounded by friends like these.”

Essek chuckled at that. “They are rather persuasive.”

“Ha, that is putting it lightly.”

A sudden bang on the door startled them out of the moment.

“Ow!” A muffled yelp came from the other side of the door.

It slowly opened, and in walked Caduceus with a tray of tea and cookies. Jester had fallen to the ground, posed like she had been pressing her ear to the door, with Beau kneeling next to her.

“Hi,” Caduceus said, as casual as ever. “Thought I would bring that tea.”

He walked to the desk and put the tray down. “Feel free to join us in the living room.” And just as quickly, he headed out the door.

Jester rubbed her head, still giggling all the while.

“I didn’t think you would ACTUALLY do it!” She exclaimed.

Both Caleb and Essek’s faces flushed the same time.

“You’ve been spending too much time with us,” Beau added.

Essek sighed, inclined to agree with her.

“You guys should totally join us,” Jester smirked, “I don’t think you’ll be getting much studying done anyway.”

She giggled fondly as she turned to make her way back to the living room. Beau followed, only giving a knowing smirk before she took off.

“..Jester?” Caleb slurs sleepily but stops before he can say more, trying to wrap his still-loading mind around why he can’t turn around and face her. He blinks his eyes, trying to will the exhaustion away. It’s still dark in his room. “What are you doing—” Something in his trained, wizard mind grasps for the familiar — something he can recognize, even if he can’t see. Then he registers them, feels the soft, familiar comfort of the well-made, leather cuffs his troublesome tieflings had made for him. 

When one wanted to play with tieflings, he had learned, well—it wasn’t a terrible idea to have some restraints at the ready. Usually, though, this set of bed cuffs didn’t come into play until at least a little while after some kissing, a massage, a little warm-up tickling, foreplay, teasing, some—something! 

“I wanted to wake you up, Caleb.” Jester explains in that soft, sing-songy voice, nuzzling into the back of his neck and making him scrunch his shoulders up weakly. She ghosts her fingers along his back. “In a nice way.”

“Ja, und I am now awake..” Caleb responds tiredly as well as a little hesitant. He tries, albeit unsuccessfully, to will himself not to twitch under soft, teasing fingers, barely there, quite certain even in his semi-conscious state that he can tell where she may be heading with this. Who is he kidding? It’s Jester. That’s exactly where she’s heading. 

“So...?” He tries the restraints, tugs once, twice, deliberately but weak. 

“Well, I mean, you still seem a little tired.” Jester continues excitedly. “Here, here, I’ll help!” She walks her fingers back up his back, scratching her nails gently on either side of his spine. 

Caleb shivers, unable to stop himself from squirming under the tiny, electric jolts of ticklish sensation. “Oh—nehehein, plehehehease—” He drops his head and giggles into the pillow, soft and sheepish. “I cahahan’t..”

“You can’t what? You don’t have to do anything!” Jester insists, pinching at the edges of his shoulder blades. “Just relax and try to wake up nice and easy, okay?” 

“I’m awahahake..” Caleb snickers lamely, shaking his head where it lays smushed into his pillow. “It’s too early for thihihis.”

“I’m being thorough!” Jester rebuttals. Then, true to her word, she sets her wicked fingers on a slow crawl from his shoulder blades straight out to the side and right under his arms. 

Caleb’s body jumps beneath her, trying to prop himself up onto his elbows or bring his arms down to no avail. “Scheiße- Jester! Don’t!” His voice is higher pitched this time, definitely awake. She always finds such delight in hearing his pleading become more and more frantic. He rocks slightly from side to side as she continues her attack.

“There’s nowhere to go.” She teases as he tries squirming from one side to the other, her nails following all the while. “You’re just gonna have to get tickled until you wake allllllll the way up.” 

Caleb makes a desperate noise before crashing his face back into the pillow in a sad attempt to silence the laughter bubbling up inside his chest. 

“Oh no, are you falling back asleep? Do you think I should tickle you somewhere else?” 

He turns his head sideways as she brings her scribbling nails slowly down towards his ribs. “Whihihihhy did you decide to-ACK! Why-yEEHEHE?! WAIT! Wait, bitte! Not there! Ahahahaaa—”

“You’re a good sport most of the time, when I want to tickle you.” She begins to explain, nails spidering sinisterly at the top of his ribs as his laughter increases in desperation. “But you always try to sneak away or put your arms down when I tickle you all gentle like this, Caleb!” Jester explains with all the confidence of a used-cart salesman, while her blue nails spider relentlessly against each rib. “I think it’s really nice and relaxing to get tickled and I know you do too and—well, sometimes you’re kinda grumpy in the morning so I had this idea and well isn’t this so much better of a way to wake up?” 

Caleb doesn’t answer, at least not with words. He knows there’s no arguing with her. He’s trapped, and Jester’s fingers are forcibly taking up more than their fair share of his thoughts. He just laughs, whines, and kicks out weakly in a pathetic attempt to dislodge her.

“I know it’s not exactly the time of day we usually use these…” She tickles quickly back up his arms to tap on the wrist cuffs she has him tied to the bed with before continuing back down with a spider crawl along his arms. “…but I think it works great for wake-ups! Actually, yeah —you should totally take my idea and try it out some time on like me, or Molly, or ohmygosh Essek—”

“Jester!” Caleb anguishes into his pillow, reminding her of his presence. “Mercy!” 

His arms flex and tug weakly at the restraints on his bed. He’s trying to orient himself enough to listen and to figure out what to do next. He doesn’t even have the strength to hold his hands in a fist yet; his body is tired and tingling and why is he still so god damn ticklish when all of his other senses seem to be taking forever to catch up. 

Jester keeps talking behind him- above him- next to him- somewhere—while Caleb cackles into the pillow. 

“Are you sure you’re awake now, ‘Sleepy Caleb’?” Jester teases, drawing her fingers in unison from the outside edges of his exposed armpits to the center - over and over again. Slow. Deliberate. “Do you feel those pesky, tickly, ‘ickly spiders crawling all over you?” 

 “Nnnnnn— a break! P-plea-mmmmm-aaaahhaha!” He pleads unintelligibly to the bed, words failing him in the face of so much gentle teasing. The spidering tickles move all along his back and down his ribs and sides. Caleb makes another strangled cry into the pillow and kicks his feet out behind him, wanting to rid himself of excess energy. “Please!” He whines.

Jester lets up just long enough to scoot down his back. She moves back to sit just below his arse. To Caleb’s delightful horror she brings her tickling, wiggling spider-fingers to crawl back along the dip of his lower back—a particularly sensitive spot that she and Mollymauk share. 

Caleb, it seems, does as well. He squirms helplessly, kicking even harder as he cries out against the bed. Everything tickles and tingles and it’s all ricocheting around his nervous system like a couple of loose spells. “Jester! Jess- AHAHA JESTER PleeheheheHEHEHEASE! AHH- Ohmeingott no, nonono, that wasn’t a breheheheak! JEHEHEHEHESTER!”

“Yes, yes, yes, Caleb! You sound so much more awake now!” Jester sings out loudly over his laughter in response, tickling along his spine now. “What’s the matter, why are you yelling, you don’t like my spider friends?” 

“Gehehehehehehet away! Ehehehe nonono get-them-awahahahay hehehe! Nein! Hahaha get them off— off, off plehehehehease!” 

“I mean but they’re like, barely touching you..” Jester pouts, crawling her spidering fingers from his spine out toward the backs of his bottom ribs. “You really don’t like them?”

“Sohohoho bad! Plehehease—” Caleb jolts, crying out frantically into the pillow beneath him, which sounds like he’s even begging harder now. 

Jester smiles, delighted. 

“I’m definitely gonna have to study with you and Essek some time… you guys can make so many cool spells and, well, we need to make a real tickle-spiders spell. It would be soooooo much fun. I would use all my spell slots on it.” She latches on to the back of either side of his rib cage and spider-tickles where he usually keeps his books. “Think about it, think about it.” 

“Nhahahahahahahahot a chahahahance!” Caleb retorts, defiant despite his giggling. “Too bahahahad!” 

“Ah! Rude!” Jester tsk’s at him. 

The ‘spiders’ leave the backs of his ribs only to reappear on his sides and begin working their way underneath to his stomach, tickling lightly but deliberately into Caleb’s soft belly as they wiggle between him and the mattress. 

“NONO-OHFAHAHUCK-WAITNO!” Caleb shrieks in surprise, trying to roll as violently as he can from side to side, hindered by the cuffs holding his arms outstretched and by Jester’s strong, sturdy form straddling him in place. “GETOUTOFTHERE! Ahaha-plehease– no nohoHOHO!”

“I can do this aaaaaaaaaalllllll day.” She teases, reaching further with each hand until one finger reaches his belly button to tease as well. “And so can my spiders.”

“Nein! Hehehe bitte, Jester! Ahaha-HAHA! M-Mercy!” 

Jester considers, still tickling ever-gently along his stomach. “Maybe I’ll give you a little break, if you tell my little spiders that you like them—AND if I’m like 1000% sure that you’re awake for real.” 

“I’m awake! I’m awake! PleheheheHEHEHEASE! I am! EHEHE-ahh haha Jester!” Caleb wails, pleading. “I ahahahaham going to dihihihie!”

“You’re so cute.” Jester slips her hands out from under him. “And, relax, I know you are squishy and all, but I wouldn’t let you die from a little tickling, don’t worry.” She winks to herself, leaning in to kiss the back of his head. “And if you did? I would heal you. And it would be the cutest way to die ever.”

Red-faced and exhausted, Caleb wheezes into the pillow below him, turning his head a bit to the side and deepening his breaths when he can finally stop laughing so hard. He takes in air, drawing it in greedily. “Bitte, have some mercy on me… it is so early.” He tries, looking up at Jester with one tired, pleading eye. “You’ve made a very effective alarm. Let’s go make some breakfast and—”

“Ooh, I am hungry!” 

“Ja?” He smiles in relief. “So maybe we could–”

Jester cuts him off. “Oh! I know!” 

Caleb eyes her, hopeful.

She takes a deep breath and then begins the familiar quick casting for sending.

“Wait- was machst du?–nein! Jester, what are you doing?” Caleb blanches in terror. “Wait! Wait! Who are you calling? Please–” 

She begins speaking, ignoring him. “Heyyyyyy, Molly! Could you grab some of those yummy pastries and breakfast sweets and stuff and meet me in Caleb’s room? Okay thanks hurry up-” the spell fizzles out but she continues, “-okay? You can reply to this message- wait, was that too many words? Darn it. Did you get that?”

Jester waits a moment, tapping her toes into the mattress behind her.

She prepares to try again before she hears a familiar voice reply. “Sounds.. intriguing. Be right there, darling.” 

“Okay, breakfast problem solved!” Jester claps her hands together. 

“Ahahahare you going to let me up…” Caleb asks, already giggling in anticipation of Mollymauk joining them, “so I can eat with you all..?”

Jester laughs joyfully. “Nope!” 

“I –why?” He pouts and tries to turn his head to look at her fully. “Please?” 

She brings her hands up to Caleb’s forearms, wiggling her fingers like spiders once again. “You didn’t apologize for saying you hated my spiders and they’re very, very offended. It’ll take Molly a while to get breakfast together. And then we can feed you in between giggle-breaks.” She grins, leaning in to pinch his sides in delight. 

“WAIT! I’m sorr-EHEHEHEHE!” Caleb’s lanky muscles jump under the touch, and he lets out a high pitched noise into the pillow, choosing to hide his face again rather than argue fruitlessly. Goosebumps raise across the backs of his arms and neck.

“Anyway, we need to make sure you’re nice and hungry when Molly gets here.”

…to be continued

…

Rudi wiggles, baring his belly as Caleb sits down, a fair bit more comfortable than the wooden chair. Caleb holds up his book in one hand and pats Rudi with the other. He still often denies himself comfort and kindness out of habit — but, it can be nice to be pushed into it by friends (and cats) around you.

“Thank you for the company.” Rudi’s resonating purr sends a wave of calm through Caleb where the cat is pressed up to his hand and thigh. 

“Hiiiii. You guys look cozy. Room for one more?” With a colorful blur and twirl around the corner into the doorway, Jester arrives on the scene, a cheerful smile apparent in her voice as she says. “Hey, Caleb.” 

Caleb hums in acknowledgement, turning the page in his book. “Hallo, Jester.” He says it without looking up, a dusting of pink on his cheeks at his unexpected guest.

In a few strides, the blue figure in his peripheral gets closer until he feels the couch dip next to him on the opposite side of where Rudi is curled up. “What are you reading?” 

“A book.” 

Jester harrumphs, shouldering against him with a pout. “A book about what?”

Caleb fights off a smile. He is already thoroughly distracted —so he’s made peace with ending his studies early. 

He pretends to turn the page and continue reading, and Jester lets out a whine in a pitch befitting Sprinkle. 

He lets her fester a few moments longer before he answers, failing to fully fight off his smile. “Just some texts on Pre-Calamity Exandria I borrowed from Essek’s library— well, it delves into some history as well as specifics on the spells and magic of the time, the ideas behind it, and the history of uses within various schools of the arcane.”

“Oh..” She scrunches up her nose. “I wanted to see if I could read with you. But that sounds pret-ty bo-ring.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

Jester’s tail lashes side to side, impatient and bored —two qualities that, when found in her, tend to lead to an afternoon of mischief. 

She sighs dramatically, leans her head on Caleb’s shoulder to look at the book.

Caleb hums again, turning the page.

“If I find you something more… fun to read… would you read it to me and Rudi?” She asks a few beats later.

Caleb’s eyes flick sideways to her, a soft smile on his lips. “Ja, sure, of course.” He turns the page. “None of your smut, though.” He adds, fighting down a smirk.

She sticks out her tongue, and he has the good graces not to call her on it. 

Getting up and roaming about his bookshelves, she begins. “Okay, okay. What’s a good one— ummm.. Let me look!” 

Caleb marks the page in his text as Jester fingers through his books. 

“Oh how about this one! Look at this guy, he’s so scary!” She makes a face, holding up the book. There’s a tall figure with wild, wiry, mad-scientist looking hair sprouting in every direction from his head — his face outstretched in a foul scream. His fingernails are longer than his hands themselves, and scatter, crooked, every which way from his hands. 

“Ah, that’s a Zemnian children’s classic.” Caleb sits fully upright on the couch, closing his book. 

Jester laughs out loud at that. “This is for kids?”

He sets his book down on the table beside him. “Ja. Der Struwwelpeter.”

Jester bounds over with a giggle, repeating the title in a silly imitation of Caleb’s accent. She plops down and quickly snuggles into the corner of the couch, then turns to Caleb, making grabby hands in his direction. 

His cheeks flush a little — as they always do in the face of such open affections — as he leans to sit closer to her on the couch. It’s not a moment before he feels her arm loop around his shoulders. 

“Oh— hi, ok.” Caleb lets out a nervous little laugh as she draws him closer. Rudi stands with a stretch.

“I wanna see the pictures- here, like this!” 

She shifts him, which he allows with a tired smile, until she’s laying against the arm of the couch and he is dragged back against her, back to chest, his legs over hers up on the couch cushions. Her head comes to rest gently on the mop of his orange hair.

“Perfect! Are you comfy?” Jester asks brightly.

Caleb snorts a little, settling in to his new position practically lying down on the couch. He pretends to be a bit put out, but sighs and stretches one leg out and it bumps into the other arm of the couch. He puts one ankle up on the arm and bends the other leg at the knee, getting comfortable. Rudi find himself a comfortable spot across Caleb’s thighs and plops down, continuing to purr.

“Alright, well let’s see,” he brushes off the cover. “‘Der Struwwelpeter, oder lustige Geschichten und drollige Bilder von Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann’ — this book is a compilation of funny children’s tales and illustrations.” He explains. 

“Which word means ‘funny’?” 

“It’s this word here, ‘lustig’.” Caleb points to the cover.

“Lustige,” she reads and then laughs.

He reads each of the two first pages in their original form, a cadence coming to his lips at the familiar text. She doesn’t understand what the words all mean, but it still sounds lovely, like an old song from far away. 

Then, the story putters to a stop as he pauses to explain to her what it says. 

He continues this way, reading, explaining, reading, explaining, holding up the book so Jester can look more closely at the pictures, scrutinizing.

A few pages deep, when he finishes the Zemnian, she suggests. “Hm.. When you tell me what it says… Can you do it in a silly voice?”

“Um-” Caleb is a master of changing many things, but his accent is not one of them. He laughs again, a little sheepish. “Okay…” 

He clears his throat and then —in a terrible, silly imitation of Jester— he explains what the passage says in Common. 

Jester laughs in delight and follows along. 

She ooh’s and ahh’s as Caleb reads each of the next pages in Zemnian and then explains what it says in his decidedly silly voice. 

Jester lets out a gasp at the next turn of the page. “Oohhhh my gosh, Caleb, it’s the guy from the front, look at his nails.” She grins, observing the full page of artwork depicting a large child —or, maybe, a small man— with wild hair that looked like it had just taken a bit too much lightning damage, and with fingernails grown out much longer than his fingers. They stretch wildly across the page. 

Caleb huffs out a little laugh. “Mmhm.”

And then, because she is Jester, she continues.  “Don’t you think they would be..” She brings her own nails up to trace gently along the shell of his ears. “Reaaaaally tickly?” 

A shiver runs down his spine. “Heh- ja, yes.” Caleb shakes his head a little, brushing off the flutter in his chest and flare of embarrassment. He takes one of his hands off of the book to swat at her hands. “You would love them, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I really would…” She smiles and wiggles a bit. “I would use them for so many pranks.. ooh and tickle fights. Oh, I would win every time.” 

Caleb’s hand has successfully deterred her fingers from his neck. 

But, he notes with a shiver, she just reaches down to pinch at his sides a few times instead. 

He squirms, readjusting. “You don’t need any extra help. You already do.” His elbows don’t quite clamp down to his sides, but come down enough to gently push her teasing fingers away. 

Caleb feels the energy of the evening beginning to shift. There’s something flittering about inside him at that, but he presses on with the task, and the conversation, at hand. 

But, a few more pokes and Caleb’s arms press down harder on instinct. “Jester— the book..” He reminds her, voice light with almost-laughter. 

The cat shifts in his lap, giving Caleb a look that perhaps on a human would look annoyed.

Jester pulls her hands away from his sides, but quickly redoubles her efforts back up on the side of his neck, quick and gentle. “Mmm. Right, right. Tell me more about ‘dar Schtruvvelpater’.”

“Hey- ehe- hey.” He snorts again, scrunching his neck. “Would you stop it— I-I’m trying to read to you.” His voice is light, fluttering, and it cracks with a laugh around the words —it all comes out a little more high pitched than he intended.

Jester lets out a whine, clearly wanting to continue both. “You can keep reading!” She giggles, pinching down his shoulders and around to the backs of his armpits.

“But—” He pleads, but then Jester’s hands are down around the bottoms of his ribs again. “Ah! Je- Jester I can’t—” He chokes out, snickering and wobbling back and forth between her pokes on either side of his rib cage. His elbows squeeze against his sides, trying in vain to protect himself while maintaining his hold on the novel.

Rudi yowls at them, indignant, and turns to plop up onto the back of the couch, curling up in the middle.

“Oh sorry Rudi!” She chuckles. “But, seriously Caleb—it’s fine, I don’t mind if you laugh!” Jester adds, and wiggles her fingers around and over his stomach. 

Laugh he does, pressing the book against his middle in a poor attempt at defense. His arms do their best to attempt to cover a few of his weak spots, but Jester doesn’t seem to mind the obstacle, easily finding others. She tuts at him and crawls her hands back up his sides. 

Jester’s fingers work their way up and then jump to his neck again. Caleb clings to the book for dear life, pulling it up to cover his face as he fights a continuous, losing battle with the giggles that Jester is keen to draw out of him. 

“Wait— hehe wait I- heh- I thought you wanted— aha- ah— y-you wanted me to read to you!” Laughter cracks through every word, climbing to the surface like weeds sprouting forth between the bricks of a worn path.

“Well I did—I do, but now—” She shifts her legs, wiggling to get them out from underneath Caleb and then wrapping them around his middle to block him in against her chest and the couch. “I thought of something else I wanna listen to.” 

Caleb cackles when Jester scribbles, unexpected and intently, over his lowest ribs. “Sch-scheiße! Oh noho- ahaHA NAHA-NEIN JESTER!” He nearly squirms out of her grasp, giggling and chasing her hands with his elbows —but, he’s no match for her leg muscles —plus, he’s still trying to hold onto the book. 

He just about jumps out of his skin when he suddenly picks up a green figure in his field of vision —Fjord, who somehow made it halfway across the room without Caleb’s notice. Shit.

Blushing further, the wizard closes his eyes and tries to hide his face between Jester’s shoulder and the couch. “No— don’t!” Caleb squeals between laughs as Fjord approaches.

“What are you two doing in here, hmm?” Fjord asks casually. 

Caleb shivers, envisioning the grin on his face. He sucks in a breath and clamps his mouth shut, convinced that maybe he can avoid getting someone else involved if he holds it together—if he just doesn’t laugh again for the next few seconds.

“He’s reading me a story!” Jester responds, chipper. 

“Oh, that sounds nice.” And then, closer. “Can I listen too? How can I help?” 

Caleb’s heart spins in a swirl of excitement and giddiness and nerves. “Nooooohoho.” He responds, unable to hold back the giggles from his words.

“Shh— I wasn’t asking you.” Fjord scolds. 

Caleb whines, a little indignant, with a laugh into the crook of his elbow.

“Oh I know!” Jester gathers excitedly, pointedly ignoring Caleb. “I’ll hold the book and turn the pages, and you can hold his hands because they are probably, like- so, so tired from holding the book up this whole time, hmm?” She nuzzles against Caleb’s ear then, teasing. “Right Caleb?” 

Caleb squirms, his legs kicking against the couch. “Mmmmf nooooo—”

“Great idea, Jes.” Fjord answers just as Caleb chokes out another desperate little sound of protest as he breaks down into laughter.

“Here, give me this.” Jester commands, ceasing her light, tickling pokes and reaching to take the book from Caleb’s hands. 

He shakes his head, curling his upper body inward protectively. “Nohohoo—” Caleb cries as she pokes at his neck with one finger, bringing his hands back in toward his face. 

Fjord’s hands wrap —firm and unyielding as any proper sailor’s knot— around Caleb’s small wrists. 

Caleb keens forward desperately with a high pitched laugh, and Jester pulls the book the rest of the way from his grip. “There we go! Okay, okay, now then...”

Jester holds the book up above them, flipping to the page they left off on. Meanwhile, Fjord, standing beside the couch, gently tows Caleb’s shaky arms up over red and blue mops of hair. 

Caleb giggles, a few anxious little sounds of anticipation making their way out in between. He tugs weakly at his arms as he is brought back down against Jester’s chest. “Hnnnmf— Fjord,” His voice is light, nervous. “W-wait—”

“Can you see okay? Keep reading, keep reading, go on!” Jester draws the book in toward his face. 

A few quick, giddy breaths, and then he manages to read the next line of text between little laughs, his voice shaky, before it’s cut off with a squeal. “und die —CH AHH AHA HAH— NEIN!” Jester has one hand off of the book and wiggles her fingers, close but not quite touching, just above his rib cage. He shakes his head. “Don’t- don’t tease! Bihihitte!” 

“Ha!” Fjord laughs at that, squeezing at Caleb’s wrists gently in comfort. “Oh? You’re asking Jester? Not to tease?” 

Caleb whimpers, shaking his head more. “I- I..”

Jester grins, pulling her hand even further away and dexterously wiggling her fingers at him. “If I was ‘dare Schtruvel Peter’ I could tickle you from all the way up here!” 

“Jester—” Caleb sounds like he’s about to die, his voice strangled.

“Are you gonna keep reading or are we just gonna have to put the book down and focus on tickling you?” She asks, a faux impatience in her voice. 

“No! HA NEIN DON’T! Please— I can’t!”

“Sure you can, go on then!” Jester teases, her fingers wiggling threateningly above his rib cage. 

Caleb shrieks and hides his head against his shoulder again.

“Alright… well, I guess you’ll have to finish the story later, then.” Jester sighs. “Fjord, can you—” She moves the book up over Caleb’s head, wiggling it in the air. 

“No wahahait! Wait—” Caleb shakes his head, trying to wriggle his arms free.

One of Caleb’s wrists is released so that Fjord can safely grab the old book and set it next to his other discarded pile on the table beside the couch. Immediately, the freed arm shoots down and presses against his side, blocking his ribs and armpit from Jester’s teasing. His hand then comes up to cover his red face. 

“Oh no you dont.” Fjord says with a sternness as he grips Caleb’s wrist once again, gentle but strong, and pries it up away from his face. 

Caleb struggles, he fights him on it with a smile on his face, despite his show of protest. 

Well, he struggles for all of three seconds before Jester pinches at the soft spot just under his ribs twice and Caleb flails, melting, and his already limited strength is rendered useless. Fjord gets both arms comfortably back up and pinned and leans over, smirking down at them. “Does that book have any stories about……… tickle monsters?” 

“Nein—” He snorts, giggles coming out faster as Jester wiggles both hands toward and away from his prone middle, never quite touching. “But I- I think I could heh—send in ideas for their nehehext publication.”

Fjord agrees with a hum. She is rather terrifying. 

“What’s that called in Zemnian, hmm Caleb?” Fjord asks.

“Ehehe— what?” 

“Yeah, yeah! How do you say ‘the tickle monster’!” Jester asks excitedly.

He thinks, squeezing his eyes shut. “Hehe it would.. it would be ‘das Kitzelmonster’—” He snickers as he says it, blushing a bit more.

“Aww, that’s so cute. ‘Das Kitz el Monstar’.” Jester pokes at his ribs, whispering a quick, teasing ‘kitz kitz kitz kitz’ with each poke. 

As soon as she does this, Caleb jolts. He realizes, too late, that he’s just supplied a new and dangerous fuel for the already devastatingly effective teases they both are. His back rockets up and away from Jester, face flushing hot. “Staha- stop- no! N-HNN DOHOHON’T!” His legs kick up and in toward his middle, but are blocked by Jester’s legs wrapped around him. 

With nowhere else to go, they start kicking wildly into the air and at the couch. “BITTE! Don’t— don’t say that!” His voice cracks on a loud laugh, neck and ears red hot with embarrassment. 

Jester is known for her teasing and taking apart of defenses, and she’s unmistakably the resident tickle monster of the group. She’s tickled and teased Caleb more times than she can count. He is always a sucker for it —never fails to make things a little worse, a little more sensitive, a little more effective. 

But, this time, she notices, he seems even more desperate to get away from the teasing. “Aww, I know how much you looooove it when we talk about how ticklish you are…”

“B-Bitte— HAHA DON’T— don’t!” Caleb wails. 

“Is it even wooooorse when I say it in Zemnian? Heehee! What was it? Kitzelmonster? Kitzel? Aww are you too kitz-kitz-kitzel-ish Caleb?” She scratches gently at his sides.

Caleb does his best impression of a contortionist, wailing and struggling against her in a way that seems more keen to actually get away than just for show. 

“Did the Kitzelmonster get ya?” She giggles.

He’s taken much harder — and much worse — tickling before, and never reacted quite so viscerally to teasing. Jester feels an evil, delighted little twist in her stomach at the knowledge. 

“Eheehee no! HAHA JESTER— Please!! N-not that —don’t say it! Mist, stop it —please.”

“HMMMMmm.” She ponders loudly, gently fitting one unmoving fingertip after another into the grooves of his ribs. With his squirming, he’s essentially tickling himself at this point. “How about… if you ask me to tickle you, I’ll stop saying how cute and kitz kitz kitzel-ish you are!”

“NEIN!” Caleb shouts, indignant.

“I’ll even give you a little break first if you ask nice!” She offers with a laugh. “Because like, you kinda seem like you’re gonna die.” 

He says nothing, just laughs and shakes his head.

“Okay then.” He feels her shrug underneath him. Her hands pull away from his ribs. 

He takes a nervous, shaky breath —just in time for her fingers to walk up to Caleb’s rib cage under his shirt instead and start doing something very fast and very effective. 

He shrieks and breaks into desperate cackles. His laughter pitches up to a scream —and, just as quickly, she pulls her hands back out from under his shirt.

“Now, wanna try that again?” She opens and closes her hands like little claws, a few inches above Caleb’s sides. “Or do you want me to keep talking about how kitz-kitz-kitzel-ish poor little ticklish kitzel-ish Caleb is?” 

Caleb shakes his head with a surprising voracity, his body flailing and jolting. Fjord nearly loses his grip on Caleb’s wrists. 

Still not touching him, she wiggles her fingers, and Caleb laughs as though her claws are already taking him apart. 

“BITTE— NEIN!” He pleads. “AHA— STAHOP!”

She persists, voice dark and scary. “Oh nooooo, Caleb! The Kitzelmonster’s almost got you! And it brought its fri-ends!” 

As she speaks, teasing and throwing in every silly variation she can of the word that she can think of. 

Her voice gets quieter from Fjord’s perspective as she leans in close and continues, whispering into Caleb’s bright red ear. 

Jester teases in a way that should be outlawed, truly a cruel and unusual punishment. It’s— he’s… laughing and squirming so hard already, and- and no one’s even tickling him right now. 

Tears in his eyes, face red and blotchy, Caleb eventually whimpers out —his voice desperate, breathless, “Jester- enough, STOP stop- stop saying it, plehehehehease! Okay! Okay— ehehe! Stop!” He groans. “Just- just tickle meheHEHEEHEE—” 

Her fingers zip in to do just that as Jester giggles triumphantly. “By the way, next time we do this, I’m gonna make you tell me how to ask for it in Zemnian.” She adds casually.

Through silly giggles, he asks. “NE-NEIN- Jester, ahaha, wh-why?” His eyes flutter shut.

Fjord laughs, the sound radiating warmth into Caleb’s skin. “She really is an evil little ‘Kitzelmonster’, isn’t she?” 

“Fjord!” Jester scolds with a giggle as Caleb lets out a pathetic squeal in protest at his words. 

Caleb’s legs fly into the air, kicking at imaginary targets yet too uncoordinated to hit even those. His laughter rings out loudly in the room as Jester pokes and scritches under his arms.

“You look like you’re ready to try out for the circus.” 

The sudden appearance of Mollymauk’s voice sends a chill down Caleb’s spine. 

His head snaps over to confirm that, yes, Molly is leaning casually in the doorway. Smile on his face. Mischief in his eyes. Fingers twitchy in a way he gets when he really wants something (and that ‘something’, often, is to draw lovely laughter from those close to him). 

“But really, Caleb, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep floundering about like that.”

“Hi Molly! Oh, you’re right. I did say I’d give him a break,” Jester smiles, bringing her hands down to rest on his thighs, not tickling.

Caleb’s deep breath out is fizzling with anxious snickers. “Ehehehe M-Mollymauk.. Molly. Molly—” How long has he been standing there? 

“Yes?” Molly purrs, drawing into the room. 

Caleb looks up at the ceiling, whimpers. “Please,” a breath, “you’ll— ehe they’ll— you’re killing mehehehee.” 

“I’m killing you? Ha. Well. It’s a good thing Jester’s close by.” Molly smirks, then, dramatically winces with a waiver of his hand. “Mm. Well, I bet Caduceus isn’t far anyway.” 

“Hey! Rude!” Jester shifts to stick her tongue out at Molly. “Anyway. Don’t you think he’s had enough of a break? Go get his feet!” 

“What? No wait! But you barely—” Caleb cries out, drawing his legs as close to his chest as possible. 

“You bet-ter put those back down…” Jester threatens, tracing featherlight circles into the skin of his sides, just under his shirt. 

“No!” Caleb wails in protest. His flailing kicks begin anew.

Well, if he’s going to be stubborn about it… Molly strolls to the other end of the couch, chuckles, and then, like a cat watching a flock of birds, begins batting at Caleb’s legs and dodging kicks, hunting for the perfect in.

Uncoordinated, tickled, and giddy with laughter, Caleb doesn’t make it long before Molly’s towing one of his ankles down to the end of the couch with a victorious snicker. 

“Got one!”

His other leg keeps kicking wildly, still unclaimed. 

There’s a mixture of Common and Zemnian (or at least an attempt at them) in between loud, boisterous, shrieking laughs as Molly swipes a finger up and down his sole.

Jester moves her fingers up, two on each side, scritching lightly into Caleb’s armpits. 

Meanwhile, Molly fully disregards the free foot in order to devote his focus to holding down Caleb’s ankle and wiggling more fingers under scrunched toes. 

Molly gets a claw under and between some just as Jester adds more fingers to his underarms, and Caleb makes a sound so loud and desperate that he’s glad —somewhere in his mind where he can remember to be— that they is in his tower and not in the middle of a tavern room, surrounded by other rooms, with people around. 

In the moment, he fails to consider, however, that there are in fact still people in the tower. 

Caleb’s not thinking about that, though. In fact, he’s not thinking about much at all right now, other than how badly this tickles. 

“You have ten seconds to put your other leg down, or I’m gonna have Molly come up here and help me get your ribs.” Jester offers as a threat, pausing her tickling, as does Mollymauk.

A beat of silence aside from quavering laughter, then Caleb asks. “Wh-when… when did you become so evil?”

Jester giggles. “Always been!” And then she blows a raspberry on his neck. 

“AAAII— OKAY!” 

She stops —and then, denying his better instincts, Caleb brings his other leg down shakily. He allows Molly to wrap both ankles up in the crook of his elbow. 

The free purple hand wiggles delightedly, a few inches away from the trapped soles before him. He looks back over his shoulder at Caleb —who looks absolutely lovely when he’s devastated in this way.  

Caleb protests without any conviction. “This is— very unfair.” 

Jester pokes down his rib cage and over to his tummy. 

“Plehe— oh nohoh-AHA haha noooo—” Caleb squirms, his head rolling back with laughter. 

Just then, she starts to lightly spider her fingers over his stomach, while Molly does the same technique, alternating over each foot. Fjord watches each of them fondly, Jester clearly having the time of her life — she really is a ‘Kitzelmonster’. They take turns, not wanting to completely overwhelm the tired, scrawny wizard, with Molly and Jester each watching the other and commenting on Caleb’s reactions.

When Caleb opens his blurry eyes again, a few minutes and endless laughs later, he sees Veth, looming over the back of the couch next to a curled up Rudi. She gives him a smug, knowing little smile. It can be intense, electric, unbearable at times —being tickled —but Caleb has confessed under the influence of alcohol and ticklish duress that he doesn’t hate — or even enjoys, much to his chagrin — the opportunities that come up in his life for his brain to slow down and fog up a little bit, til there is no room for guilt and worry. He is in (many) good hands, after all. But, it’s nice to know she knows, she’ll be there, she’ll help take him apart a little too, if she likes, and, eventually, she’ll help reign in the tieflings if he needs her to. 

Caleb can’t hold her gaze for long, his eyes close just as Jester’s fingers start poking into his sides repeatedly. 

A moment later he gasps, curling his head and neck sideways at the first flutter of a light, fluffy edge of a feather along the shell of his ear. 

“Ehe- staha— Veheheheth!” Caleb stutters out through laughter. He attempts a peak at her and finds one of her feather-fall feathers held neatly in her mage hand, twirling about just beside his head. “Ahaha— nein!”

“What is this? You guys threw a wreck-the-wizard party without me?” Beau’s voice cuts through the already overwhelmed sensory input in Caleb’s brain. 

His voice is shrill, desperate in response. “No— hehehe nononono— Beheheheaureagard! Aha gehehehet out of hehehere! NOHOHOHO!” 

“Oh, please. Don’t bother.” Beau’s response is rippling with smug laughter as she waves dismissively at him. 

Caleb soon becomes aware of a hand wrapping around his shins a few moments after she speaks. He curses between laughs and hopelessly tries again to kick his legs. 

Beau moves one arm behind his legs and squeezes at his calf muscle once, twice, an attempted scolding for his jolts and kicks of protest. Caleb shrieks. Everyone freezes — it almost feels as though time stops for a moment. 

Caleb yelps when she does it again, his breath sucking in a half-second later. 

Jester peaks over Caleb’s shoulder. “Oooh, what did you do?” Her hands idle over Caleb’s sides. 

Molly looks over his shoulder, smug and grinning. “Look— I knew your knees were bad… but.”

“Looks like someone’s a little ticklish here.” Beau smirks, letting out a little evil laugh. She squeezes the back of Caleb’s leg again, a few inches below his knee. 

“No!” He cries out, laughing. “Dohohon’t—”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it? Laugh?” Beau snickers and begins squeezing the back of each of his legs, up and down the calf muscles. She kneels down beside the couch, finding the perfect angle. Meanwhile, Molly keeps Caleb’s ankles locked up in a solid, tight hold, enjoying the show. 

Caleb wails out a few more wheezy protests between cackles as Beau tickles up and down his legs. “Don’t! Beauhoho— hahaha stAHAHOP!” 

Jester wriggles underneath him as she repositions and trails her hands down.. down.. down as far as she can, lightly tickling down his ribs and sides as she goes, squeezing his hips, past where her own legs are wrapped around his middle. She reaches out, grabbing in the air at Beau’s hands —fingers still a decent distance from tickling anywhere near his calves or knees. “Ha! You’re ticklish everywhere Caleb!” Jester giggles into his ear. 

“Yeah, how’d you manage to hide this spot from us for so long?” Beau asks. “Are your legs this sensitive all the way up and down?” She pinches at the backs of his ankles all the way up to his knees, then continues up, squeezing around his thighs. 

“Ehehe- no! Leheheheheave them alone!” Caleb cries. 

“Not a chance, man- ha! They so are— look at you!” She pinches at a spot a few inches below his knee that gets him kicking — or, well, trying his best to. “You’re fucking ridiculous!” She laughs.

Caleb lets out a noise somewhere between a snort and a plea. His laughter and thrashing continue to grow frantic. 

Beau leans against the couch and wraps Caleb’s knees up in one arm. She pinches and squeezes the backs of his calves with her free hand, a smug grin on her face. 

Mollymauk’s tail joins her hand and tries to wiggle against the backs of his legs and knees. Meanwhile, his fingers keep up a quick tempo fluttering across Caleb’s wiggling feet. 

“Eeheehee whahahahah-why are you tryhihing to kill mehehehee!?” Caleb cries out. 

Jester watches delightedly as Beau and Molly drive him up the wall. She holds tight with her legs as he squirms and wriggles, desperate for escape. 

“Aww, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” Jester answers him, wiggling her fingers in a tease a few inches above his armpits. “We wouldn’t do it if you weren’t having fun!” 

Caleb turns somehow even more red at that and lets out a pathetic little peal of laughter in response to her teasing.

Veth’s mage hand moves down to start poking at his top rib just under his armpit on the side nearest the couch. 

“Ehe— no! Neihihein! Bitte!” He squirms to the side, only to meet Jester’s finger on the other side.

Molly and Beau pause to rearrange a bit, trying to figure out the best way to hold his legs while also watching his helpless little squirms. 

Caleb sputters out giggles and half-worded pleas.

Jester ponders aloud. “I should probably call Yasha and Caduceus… I feel like they’re going to be preeeeeetty bummed if they miss this. I know I would be.” 

“No— no!” Caleb squeaks. 

Molly wiggles a finger up and down Caleb’s arch while Beau squeezes just above his knee. 

“Ugh. You’re right, Caleb. There’s barely any room for us. You need to make the couch in here bigger next time you bring up the tower.” Jester chastises, poking at his side in light, random patterns. “There’s not enough room for everyone.” 

Caleb whimpers into his bicep through laughter. 

“I have an idea..” Fjord grins, transferring Caleb’s wrists to one hand and reaching down with the other to squeeze and tickle at both his and Jester’s sides below. 

Caleb cackles with a renewed desperation, while Jester cries out. “Hehehee- hey! Hah-” She gasps in fake offense before breaking into giggles.

“Let’s move ‘im to the bed.” Fjord finishes his thought with a few pokes under Caleb’s arm. 

“Mmmf— nooooo heh—” Caleb protests weakly, his face tingling with a happy, giddy silliness —sweet and warm under his skin like fresh honey. 

Fjord releases his wrists and reaches down with both hands, and —easily besting the now flailing arms— hooks his hands underneath Caleb’s shoulders and around to his armpits. He lifts up. Caleb squeals. Fjord wiggles his fingers a bit. Caleb makes some kind of choked laugh. 

Then Caleb is shaking his head more fervently as Beau reaches to lift him under his knees.  Mollymauk releases his ankles with a grin.

“Bitte, you-you’ve had your fun! Y-you’re killing me! Mercy!” Caleb pleads, his eyes wide as Beau and Fjord make quick work of lifting him up.

He scrambles for any sort of anchor or purchase —a steady moore out in the sea of giddiness and laughter he’s found himself caught and floating in. 

“Hey!” Almost on cue, a familiar sensation of Jester’s claws make their reappearance on his sides. “That’s mine! Give him back!” She scolds.

“NAHA— ehehehee, don’t!” Caleb can’t stop himself from squirming and flinching away as Jester’s fingers prod and tickle at the wizard above her. 

She snickers, delighted, and her fingers follow along for as long as she can reach him. Noticing this, Fjord and Beau seem to take an extra long time moving him up and away from the couch —and out of tiefling range —over to the bed. 

Finally, he’s out of Jester’s range. His breath comes in shakily as they deposit him gently on his mattress. He’s red-faced, tears welling up in his eyes with a few running messily down his cheeks. His eyes are squeezed shut to hide from the scrutiny and knowing smiles of his companions above. 

“Hee- oh nohoho—” Caleb whimpers with a smile. He reaches up with a shaky hand and grips one of his pillows, dragging it down over his head to shove his burning face into. 

“Aww, Caleb! Are you hiding from us?” Jester’s voice alone draws an extra giggle from him behind his pillow. 

Caleb shakes his head behind the pillow.

“Come onnnnn, where’s that smile?” The mattress sinks as she climbs onto it near him.

“Nooooooo..” Caleb whimpers, wrapping both arms around the pillow and smushing it tighter against his face. It doesn’t do much to muffle his anticipatory laughter. 

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Jester scoffs. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Caleb’s legs kick at that, drumming against the bed as it dips a few more times —Molly and Veth, he concludes, since Jester is already looming next to him and Fjord and Beau still have hands on his shoulders and knees. 

“Alright, come on, let’s get him already!” Beau declares impatiently. 

“Ah, I love the spirit, Beauregard, but it can be so much fun to drag it out —build him up, topple him over…” Molly traces a delicate nail down Caleb’s chest. Caleb shivers deliciously. The claw lifts away.

Jester snickers. “We already tickled him like soooo much on the couch, Molly, he’s already all mush-brain. Come on!”

“Oh alright —you’re right, you’re right.” Molly shrugs, crawling his way up to Caleb’s other side.

Caleb wails into the pillow when two sets of tiefling claws touch down gently over his midriff with purpose, leaving teasing trails down his sides and over his stomach and lowest ribs. “Mmpppph- n- nahaha- oh nohohoho— eheh oh dohohohon’t! Bitte! Mmmf-aha ahahaha! Please— please!” 

Fjord leans down, taking Caleb’s hands with ease into his own and pulling them up over his head. He adjusts, laying on the bed while keeping Caleb’s arms trapped against the mattress. He shifts the pillow over and off of him so that he can get in close to Caleb’s pink face, then nuzzles into the side of his hair. 

“Mmm. It’s too bad I can’t use my hands.”

Caleb feels some quiet relief at that. Maybe a little disappointment too, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to focus on that. 

Still, some sliver of Caleb’s mind registers the rumbling chuckle Fjord gives as dangerous as he continues. “—I guess I’ll have to improvise, then.” 

Caleb’s voice catches in his throat as Fjord’s words take on meaning just in time for lips and scruff to brush right up against Caleb’s ear. 

“Eeheehee- ah! Yeehehehee- you— aha- no NO plehease!” 

“Aww, he’s soooooo cute!” Jester squeaks with a few pinches to his ribs. 

Caleb jolts under them with a whine. “Ha- aha I- noooo— I’m —ahahaha I’m not!” 

“Yes! Yes you are!” She pinches his cheek just as Fjord sucks in a breath. Helpful little Kitzelmonster she is, Jester brushes Caleb’s hair away from the side of his neck.

“Nein!” Caleb cries as the breath comes out as a vibrating, ticklish, raspberry on his neck. 

Caleb is soon lost to cackling laughter as Molly and Jester prod and tickle at his middle while Fjord mouths along his neck and ear. And it isn’t too long before he registers two sets of blunt nails —Beau and Veth, his mind helpfully provides— that have touched down on his feet. He doesn’t even try to kick beyond the instinctive flinching away —he knows he’s not going anywhere. 

The feeling— a mindless bliss not unlike that of an evening spent polymorphed —builds slowly. But, soon enough, Caleb’s mind feels light, unbothered and untethered, as his thoughts swirl and spark with the ticklish input from what seemed like every nerve. There is a… a warmth that accompanies it, one that Caleb comfortably slips into with a strange familiarity as though it is where he had always belonged. 

Jester’s voice cuts through the sound of Caleb’s laughter as she begins her sending spell.  “Hey, Yasha? Are you with Caduceus—” Fjord briefly gets a panicked look in his eye as she starts, jerking his head back and realizing he can’t count her words out as easily. He taps his fingers into the skin of Caleb’s wrists one at a time in counting as she continues, “you guys should come up to Caleb’s room, we’re having a lot of fun! Hurry up you don’t wanna—” 

Caleb feels Fjord’s fingers wiggle individually against the thin skin of his arms. They aren’t the only ones —all in all, he registers Jester’s fingers fluttering around under his arm and pinching at his lower ribs with her other hand, Molly’s claws spidering menacingly over his belly, Beau’s arm tight around his ankles, her fingers pulling back his big toes while Veth wiggles her nails all over his feet. His mind feels dizzy and fizzling —some kind of gelatinous consistency, perhaps. 

One of Caleb’s last coherent thoughts is that it was at least a mercy (or… was it a tragedy?) that this hadn’t happened in Beau’s room, where he could have ended up having to watch this giggling, disheveled vision of himself taken apart in the mirror over her bed by his friends.

As it is, he simply closes his eyes and lets himself be lost, swimming safely in the sea of hands poking at him from every direction. 

…

Zemnian (German) | English Translations: von - from bitte - please nein - no der Struwwelpeter - the ‘shock-haired’ Peter (book) lustige Geschichten - funny/amusing stories drollige Bilder - funny pictures Scheiße - shit  Mist - crap/shit  das Kitzelmonster - the tickle monster guten Abend - good evening Mm yeah ..and I’m just going…to include these… kitzeln - tickle (verb)  kitzlig / kitzelig - ticklish  das Kitzel/n - the tickle / the tickling (noun)

…

ADDITIONAL AUTHORS NOTES:

A/N: And now friends and readers who are still here, if you look to your…down — what you’ll see are some fun notes I did and things I learned while researching things for this story — also side note — it’s been about 10 years since, but I took 5 years of German from middle to high school, I’m not by any means fluent but I remember decent enough (and I had the power of the internet and search engines on my side)!!: 

ANYWAY — I wanted to figure out some strange quirky little Deutsch storybook that I could have Caleb have in his library, something with a catchy (see also: silly) cover or title that would draw Jester’s eye..

Found this very quickly with a search for German children’s stories. <— yeah, my silly little lee brain was like “lol those nails” immediately — had to use. 

Fic title was inspired from the book cover and title / description

Link to the book on Amazon 😆 

Did a decent amount of skimming and looking over, I was immediately thinking German fairy tale / kids story, and they’re usually kind of brutal in Germany. 

Did cross my mind to use der Katzenprinz or not go into as much detail on the book, or have her try to convince him to read Tusk Love… 😏 😈  

Oh great! (affectionate) now am I gonna have to write that? (compulsive)

Yes! 

I was conflicted on which translation to use to refer to Jester in ‘Zemnian’. I saw Hoffnar (court jester, king’s fool) , Narr/Närrin (fool, jester, joker), and Spaßmacher (joker, jester, clown) but literal translation of this one is fun-maker which I feel fits Jester very well. She makes fun, is fun, joke, jests, and is all around silly and teasy the whole fic so. Yes bby girl. In the end I ended up scrapping this longer title but it was essentially gonna be "Lustige Geschichten von der Spamacherin" but twas shortened.

Moving on from the language and literature … the em..um… erm.. position was inspired from this lovely video (also recently found out she’s very happily lee and I’m like YES GIRL. ITS SO MUCH MORE DJFJFJJG TO SEE AND KNOW THEY LOVE/HATE/LOVE IT hsjsjdkf. Truly inspiring. What good friends. Caleb deserves to be in her position. 

List of some of the lovely prompts / ideas that inspired parts of the story - original prompts in green:

Critical Role c2

1. Caleb & anyone

2. Fjord & Jester

3. Caleb & Fjord

4. Essek & anyone

5. Any combo of the mighty nein you’d like

me: yess. yes. now that I’m making this I realize Essek isn’t there. (Neither are cad or yasha, they’re… meditating and drinking tea). Essek needs to have a turn helping them melt Caleb.

A has noticed that B is acting much sadder & moody than usual, little do they know that B is hamming it up in the hope of getting cheer up tickles. Whether the beans are spilled or not is up to you ;) (by beans I mean the fact they were trying to fake it)

me: I had a few ideas from various prompts floating around in my mind but also sometimes these fics just flow out of my brain — they go where they decide they’re gonna go! I’m sure you know! Anywho, it doesn’t exactly go into sad and moody but stoic and boring and drawing the silliness out of them. 

We love a good flustered blushing silly Caleb, we also love a stubborn little journey to get there while slowly losing his composure. 

I feel that Caleb knew what would happen as soon as Jester 

a. sat on the couch with him

b. picked out the book

c. asked him to read to her, or

d. pranced into the room.

But either way he was #ready to be silly as soon as she came in - some serious #leebehavior immediately winding her up 

A has really ticklish calves & B finds out while pinning them to tickle their feet, & they immediately switch targets

me: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR VERY OWN BEAUREGARD LIONETT PLEASE!!! 

TICKLISH CALVES! TICKLISH LEGS! AHH!

I love this so much fr fr fr fr 

See, but…. What if you have multiple friends and multiple hands… :D

A has been trying to get B’s attention when it becomes clear they’re deliberately being ignored.

me: love this trope so much

Caleb’s brain: I MUST ANTAGONIZE JESTER IMMEDIATELY. BUT SWEETLY.

Caleb’s brain: tells Jester how to say ‘tickle’ in his native tongue

Caleb’s brain a few min later: in turmoil over why he makes it soooooo much worse for himself — well for a few more minutes until he gets all wobbly and brain-buzzy

A either has something B wants or won’t do their job & need some convincing in the form of B’s tickling fingers

me: inner Jester monologue ‘Come on Caleb. Read the book. Read it. Do a silly voice. Read while I poke at your ribs. I don’t mind if you laugh. Come on keep trying. Okay I guess Fjord and I are just gonna drop the playful ruse. But you’re finishing that book for me later.’

Final Author's Note —