Ugggh, I guess it’s about time I had one of these. >w< I’m gonna level with you, I’m mostly making this for me because navigating this mess on the app is becoming increasingly difficult.
Welcome, nerds, to Panda’s Tree. I hope you like all my weird bookshelves and that none of you are allergic to bamboo. My uniformed guests have asked that you please report any sightings of uncontained black fluid directly to them. Thank you. >w<
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Commissions—Yes, they are always open. Panda is broke… Be aware that if you’re going to pay for 4000 words of story, you need to give me 4000 words worth of an idea. I do reserve the right to take liberties if the only thing you give me is [lee!x, ler!y; in the pool house with the candlestick]. Appreciate the money you have and be smart with it. >w< And also, thank you so much in advance for liking my work.
Alternatively, you could help me open this Cookie Jar. >w<
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Panda’s Mailbox—Send an idea; make a request; pay respects to our Goddess; tell me the lottery numbers; report the latest anomaly; or just drop by to chat. Panda loves you!
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Masterlist—I guess I had to make this eventually too. >-< Here’s a fairly long list of most* of the things I’ve written over my many old bear years. I’m restricting the Masterlist to Ao3 and Tumblr. If you want to go back to my deviantArt or Fanfiction.net days (Or, frankly, ANYTHING prior to 2017), mind the Time Travel Disclaimer, and godspeed. >w<
*There’s a separate list that’s exclusively my original work.
**Also, here’s my Writing Tag and the secret Archives, just in case you really want to know all the nonsense I’ve made with my keyboard.
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To Those Seeking Something Greater, Know That The King Lives On-- …Uh… I don’t know what this is. D-Did someone lose this paper? There’s no address…
I’ve also been finding these documents in the old rooms; they have the same symbol as that paper.
“You call us livestock, but you don’t treat us like livestock. You don’t make sure each of us has been fed, you don’t protect us from predators in the night, you don’t help deliver our young or tend to our ills. You’re not a farmer, you’re a parasite, and we will deal with you accordingly.”
Alastor/Vox. Written right after the end of season 1 (edited a bit but not much :p). Rated 16+ for language and innuendos. Word count 2k.
A/N: hi
It was deer season. and Vox was on the hunt.
Sightings of Alastor had been few and far between since he'd had his ass handed to him in the battle against Adam- in fact, Vox didn't think he'd even been able to capture his face on-camera since his anticlimactic escape. Fleeting glimpses of his raggedy red coat and blurry hoof-marks in side roads were all he had to go off of; but Vox was a patient man, and in their- admittedly tumultuous- time together, he'd ascertained enough about the other demon to know his usual haunts. Especially after a bloodthirsty battle- or in this case, a humiliating defeat.
This old radio broadcasting station clung to the outskirts of Pentagram City, the tower attached jutting upwards from the building like a twisted metal claw, stark black against the red sky. From what his cameras could discern through the grimy windows, everything was long since defunct, abandoned, coated in a fine laver of dust; no wonder Alastor had crawled here to lick his wounds, Vox mused. He must have felt at home amongst the piles of trash.
Vox chuckled quietly at his own dig as he entered the building through a side door, making a quick sweep of the premises via shuffling through the few security camera feeds still functioning in the area. He stiffened as a burst of static obfuscated his view, wrenching all of his attention back to his own visual feed- a split second too late. The Radio Demon's voice reverberated in his head as if it was coming from right behind him.
"Come here to spy?"
Vox barely had time to react before he was swept off his feet, reaching out blindly to slash at his attacker- but in seconds his wrists were grabbed, arms swiftly hoisted up above his head, legs dangling a few inches up off the ground. He hissed, TV static flitting across his screen for a second and rendering the sound a distorted screech. Registering the shadowy tendrils that now restrained his body, twisting over his thin form and holding his limbs still in a vice grip, Vox’s non-existent heart leapt in his chest.
“Oh, so you’re a coward now, huh?” Forcing a laugh into his voice to hide his nerves, Vox’s eyes swept around the room, searching for his nemesis. “The big, bad Radio Demon won’t come out and fight me himself? Running off into the shadows like you have been for the past seven years-”
He inhaled sharply as a tendril yanked warningly at a wire protruding from the back of his head, exhaling in a dark chuckle.
“Come out and fight, Alastor! I mean, I know your antlers are tiny but I didn't know you lacked balls this much!”
His breath hitched as something glinted from the darkness before him, shadows parting to allow Alastor to step forward. The Radio Demon’s mouth was, as ever, stretched into his infernal smile, gold teeth glinting faintly in the dim light. Irritatingly, his previously-torn red suit appeared spotless- seems he'd somehow had time for a visit to the tailor- though Vox noted with satisfaction the bloody stain across his torso. As he approached, Vox could feel the tentacles tightening around his arms and wrists as if pre-empting an attack; all it did was make him feel more claustrophobic. He clenched his fists, claws digging into his palms. When he opened his mouth to speak, Alastor silenced him with a tendril that snaked around his neck, briefly squeezing.
“Brash talk for someone in your position,” he finally spoke, voice crackling with static. Vox held back a flinch at the sudden words, huffing in rage as he saw the sides of Alastor’s smile curling up slightly more in amusement. Of course the bastard would notice his jumpiness, he had tentacles all-but shoved into every one of Vox’s orifices. At least he could be thankful it hadn’t gone that far yet.
“You can’t kill me.” Vox kept his tone even, confident he could bluster his way through the situation though he was keenly aware of Alastor’s occult magic interfering with his ability to transform into electricity and zap away in seconds. “That little goody-two-shoes princess has you on a tight leash, doesn’t she? You can’t just go around ripping overlords apart willy-nilly. I can’t even imagine you’d be able to, after your little fiasco with Adam.” his smirk widened. “All of which was caught on camera by yours truly, by the way. How embarrassing for you.”
Alastor’s lip curled into a sneer of barely held-back animosity. Vox knew he’d struck a nerve, and jutted his screen upwards to where their faces were inches apart, blue light from his smirk reflecting off of Alastor’s exposed teeth.
“Hm… You've always been so unimaginative.” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He never once broke eye contact. “I don’t need to kill you to teach you a lesson.
“I don’t even have to hurt you. Not in the traditional sense, at least.”
He ran one claw down the side seam of Vox’s blazer, and the TV-headed demon held back a glitch of confusion.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He snapped, twitching away from the touch. His eyes darted down to Alastor’s hands and then back up again to the bastard’s face, which betrayed nothing. Both of his hands were poised at either side of Vox’s waist, not touching yet, just hovering. Having those deadly talons this close to his body made Vox’s gut twist in spite of his earlier bravado. He, of all people, knew just how deadly those claws could be at the disposal of the bloodthirsty fucker who wielded them. But Alastor had just asserted that he wouldn’t be using violence. What in the hell was he doing?
Alastor tapped all five claws of one hand one-by-one along his side in a sickeningly familiar motion, and it hit him all at once.
Alastor’s idle demeanour, despite the fact Vox knew in a normal situation his rival would be oozing with bloodlust. His unwavering grin was typical, sure, but as Vox flinched and drew back slightly from the touch, his rival’s eyes twinkled with a glint that was borderline… Playful. It brought Vox back to many a moment they’d shared during their friendship, moments which at the time had made Vox as giddy as a schoolboy despite their situation as sinners in Hell. Moments where he’d found himself at the mercy of the other’s drunken handsiness; moments where, even if only around the man he considered to be his closest friend, he’d allowed his perfectly cultivated public image to slip. Moments that now made him cringe with mortification to look back on.
“The other shoe’s finally dropped, has it?”
Those probing claws slipped beneath his suit jacket, tickling purposefully.
No. Not this. Why this?
Vox’s antennae twitched as he tried to focus on anything but the feeling of the claws against his skin, determined to retain the facsimile of control he felt he had in the situation. Alastor’s mocking chuckle brought him back to reality. “Oh, I’d been hoping you were still as susceptible to this as you used to be, old friend.”
Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!
He scrunched up his shoulders to block out the radio demon’s words, turning his face away from his nemesis’ in an attempt to hide how much the touches were getting to him. A strangled giggle slipped out from between his clenched fangs. He arched his back as Alastor targeted under his arms with both hands, tracing a ticklish path up and down with his claws. The only thing between them and Vox’s bare skin was a thin dress shirt, which did little to block the sensations. Being unable to pull his arms down to protect himself made it so much more maddening, and he found himself writhing in the tentacles’ strong grip, systems heating up as the need to laugh continued to build inside him. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
Alastor had always been the only one who’d been able to reduce him to such a state, but through this? He hadn’t thought the radio demon would ever stoop this low again. This was the first time in over seven years that he'd felt this weak. This powerless. And the fact it was due to such a childish activity only served to increase his humiliation.
“Gnh- St-St-Stop it!” The TV demon cursed the way his words were distorted by glitching. His face was drawn up into a snarl of frustration and forced mirth, the corners of his mouth twitching as red bars split the right side of his screen.
Alastor slid a hand down to unbutton his shirt, an action that would've elicited a very different reaction from Vox in any other situation, but as it was all he could do was squeak at the sensation of those cold claws brushing against the synthetic skin of his stomach. Vox’s display flashed as his features slid out of place, glitching ever-so-slightly- whether it was from the tickling or just the knowledge that Alastor was touching his bare skin, it was impossible to tell. Electricity crackled around his body and he squirmed against the tentacles holding him immobile, hissing in frustration as his attempts to teleport away failed again and again. The corners of Alastor’s permanent grin turned up in amusement.
“Oh dear, has someone turned the Wi-Fi off?”
“I’ll Fu-Fu-Fucking KILL you-” Vox’s glitched retort cut off as a strangled chuckle spilt out of his mouth.
“I wonder how your adoring audiences would react to seeing their idol like this, hmm?” Alastor continued as if he hadn’t spoken, absent-mindedly drawing circles on Vox’s bare stomach with one claw. His other hand fondled the shorter demon’s midriff, feeling his chest rise and fall with exertion as he tried to curl up, but the tentacles held him firmly. “It would take seconds for me to ruin that perfect image you've cultivated all these years.”
Vox could feel his system burning up at Alastor’s words, fans wheezing. He was hyper-aware of every brush of claw against his skin lighting up his nerves like an electrical grid.
“It almost makes me want to dust off the old broadcast equipment to document this occasion, although I suppose instead of screaming…”
Alastor leaned down to purr into where Vox’s ear would be, hair brushing against the side of his screen. Vox’s eyes were squeezed shut, teeth gritted in anticipation.
“This time, it’d be laughter.”
Vox let out a distorted shriek as Alastor used both sets of claws to rake down his ribs, feeling his resolve crack as it all became too much to bear and he dissolved into laughter. He cackled desperately as the radio demon danced nimble fingers up and down his torso, twisting back and forth with renewed vigour.
“You-You-You F-Fucker!” He squealed, voice distorted by a mixture of glitching and emasculating giggles. “Always p-playing dirty with this shit, -”
He was cut off by his own desperate caw of laughter as the tips of Alastor’s claws caught on the twin sets of three blue gill-like apertures that lined his torso. The curious touch returned almost immediately and to his great dismay Vox realised that not only was it borderline impossible for him to squirm away or cover them- the vents were designed to efficiently ventilate the largest surface area possible for air circulation, after all- but that they were also, evidently, unbearably ticklish as a result. Alastor hummed, using those infernal claws to scritch up and down the area casually like he didn’t have a seven-foot tall demon with a TV head doubled over with uncontrollable cackling in front of him.
As Alastor summoned several more tentacles to hold him still, he shook his head desperately in protest, unable to get another word out through the laughter that wracked his body. Vox’s screen flashed with warning signs and popups stuffed with incomprehensible text, his forced smile flickering in and out of view. Tendrils began to snake down his sleeves from his wrists, tracing a ticklish path towards his underarms and oh SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT-
“D-don’t! Not-! AhahaffFFFuck!!” Vox swore incoherently as his systems hummed with energy, the sensations overloading his hard drive even as he attempted to keep control.
“You’re just like those confounded pieces of tech you peddle, aren’t you?” Alastor continued like he was speaking to himself, undeterred by the fact that Vox most likely couldn’t hear him over his laughter, and even if he could, was in no state to comprehend his words. “All dressed to the nines with new-fangled gadgetry… and yet you still come apart so. Easily.”
He punctuated this last jab with a squeeze of his claws on either side of Vox’s waist, eliciting a garbled squeal. At the same time, the tendrils under Vox’s arms wriggled against his skin and the TV-headed demon lost it. He was faintly aware of his own pitiful struggles as the tickling sapped more and more of his energy, but could do nothing to stop the colored bars from overtaking his screen as he began to crash.
ERROR! ERROR!
Teal electricity sparked from Vox’s mechanical parts, crackling along the tentacles which held him immobile. His screen flashed with a multitude of images- Alastor, dismembered, bloody; Vox, dismembered, screen cracked and broken; Vox, beneath Alastor- Alastor’s lip curled in a mixture of amusement and distaste. Finally, his screen dimmed as a fatal error message scrolled slowly upwards from the bottom.
VOX.EXE HAS CRASHED.
Alastor chuckled as he let Vox’s limp body fall to the floor, tentacles unfurling from his limbs and dissolving back into the shadows. “They really don't make ‘em like they used to.”
ever since i read Fatal Error by @tickletails i could not fucking get it out of my head. it is SO GOOD!!!!! its so IN CHARACTER and so WELL WRITTEN and AUGHhdsjgf it makes me fuckign crazy ive reread it probably a hundred times. i decided to use that insane energy for something productive and i funneled it into this: a comic version of a scene from it :]
this has been like a week in the making. the fake out of "making a guy think youre gonna kill him -> tickling him instead" pipeline is like my favorite trope EVER!! i hope i lived up to your vision!!!!!!!
the hardest part about writing tickle fics for a character is forgetting what spots you said were most ticklish and having to look back at your old works for hints
If Lucifer and Vox fight, the only reason Vox wouldn't get disintegrated immediately is because Vox starts T-wording Lucifer senseless. This is canon now because I said so.
Vox beats Lucifer because Lucifer is a sensitive baby.
post s2 Vox forced to stay at hotel and alastor tickling/torturing him
I really like the idea that Vox lives in a hotel! I would love to see interactions with all the staff and of course with Alastor! He is clearly angry for all the things Vox has done and has decided to punish the TV host
Summary: Vox needs a power source for his weapon against Heaven. Luckily for him, the king of Hell is as gullible as he is powerful, and a little bird told him exactly how he can extract said power.
Warnings: Adult language, mentions of violence, brief innuendos, dubcon, and spoilers for Hazbin Hotel season 2 episodes 5 and 6.
Word Count: 2,922 words.
Lucifer couldn't believe he had walked right into their trap.
He was known for his impulsiveness, his tendency to act before thinking things through, but this situation was different. The number that appeared on his phone WAS Charlie's, and the voice had certainly sounded like her.
How was he supposed to know it was all a ruse?
Still, it didn't make things any less embarrassing. No matter how convincing the trap had been, he had still fallen for it, drawn in like a fly to honey, and he was paying for his foolishness now.
Lucifer squirmed against the restrains, a snarl tearing from his throat. He could feel his power bubbling beneath his skin, on the verge of eruption, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing would happen. It had been ages since he'd felt like this, cut off from his magic, helpless. The last time had been far more pleasant; a fun little tryst with Lilith and some blessed rope, meant to spice up things in the bedroom.
Here, though? The rope practically burned his skin, holding back his thrashing magic like an overfilled damn readying to burst.
'As if I didn't have enough reasons to smite this fucker already.' Lucifer thought, eyes narrowing as the TV demon gloated and drank with his companions on the opposite side of the room. The words he would have for them, if the bastards hadn't gagged him as soon as he'd been incapacitated.
Vox's eyes met his, his smirk growing into a devilish grin. Slowly, the overlord strode over to his captive, humming a merry little tune. "I must say, your highness, I'm rather disappointed in you. I mean, I knew you were pathetic, but to be so naive? So gullible?" He crooned. "It was almost too easy to get you here."
Lucifer spat muffled curses, lurching forwards as much as the restraints allowed. This fucker was dead; the first chance he got, Lucifer would see him torn to pieces, his screen smashed in, his soul thrown into the deepest recesses of Envy's ocean. Sure, he couldn't do it himself, but he was sure he could find someone more than willing who COULD.
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Vox mocked, cackling with amusement at the fury in the fallen seraphim's eyes. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." He reached forward, tugging down the gag. "There we go."
Lucifer's eyes blazed red. "You cocky little mortal! I will destroy you!" He growled, struggles beginning anew.
"Mmm, I don't think so. See, even if I didn't have you tied up with a nice little bow, you wouldn't be able to do shit. Your wings have been clipped, your highness, need I remind you?"
He didn't care what celestial restrictions Heaven had placed on him, he would find a way to make this fucker shut his mouth if it was the last thing he did (and, going by his current position, it very well could be).
Vox eyed the trapped angel, like a cat would a mouse. "You should be grateful I'm giving you this opportunity. You're going to be part of something big, something REAL. A movement that will bring Heaven to its knees and put me at the very top. What a privilege..."
Lucifer barked out a laugh. "As if I'd help you with anything, dipshit! I'd rather die!" He jeered.
"See, here's the thing; you don't really have a choice in the matter." Vox replied, slowly circling his captive. "We need a bit of that angelic magic of yours, and we have the means to pull it from you, should you refuse to cooperate. This can be as quick or as agonizing as you'd like."
The blonde's brows furrowed as he let out a bemused snort. "As if a sinner could have such a power..."
Vox stopped behind Lucifer, just out of sight, clawed hands resting on the king's shoulders. "Oh, but I do! See, I'll let you in on a little secret. For the past several months, I've had a little spy inside your daughter's precious hotel."
Lucifer's frown deepened. A traitor?
Was it that stupid little radio host he was constantly butting heads with? Lucifer hadn't seen the him since he'd finally quit (good riddance). Had he immediately scurried off back to his master, leaking secrets as he tended his wounded pride?
Oh, when Lucifer got his hands on him, he-
Vox laughed, the sound low and menacing. "At a loss for words? It was so easy to stay ten steps ahead of your stupid little brat; she's so trusting, never suspected a thing. It seems you didn't, either."
An angered snarl erupted from Lucifer, his demonic form writhing beneath his skin in fury, begging to be freed. "Don't you fucking talk about her like that!"
"Oho, seems I hit a nerve! We'll be hitting a lot of those by the time we're done here." Claws began to drum across Lucifer's shoulders, slow and almost playful. "See, you may not want to give up your power willingly, but I happen to know another way to milk it out of you."
"What, you going to jack me off or something?" Lucifer sassed. ""Cause that's what it sounds like, and I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't work like-"
Vox scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You wish, you perverted little prick." The words came out as a borderline growl; he'd managed to get under the overlord's skin.
Good.
Slowly, the claws began to walk their way downwards, crawling across Lucifer's shoulders to rest just above his armpits. "Tell me, do you remember a certain incident from a couple weeks back? You and Alastor had gotten into another little spat, if I recall, and the princess was none too pleased."
Yes, that rang a bell, but how was this relevant? All she'd done was ask him to be kinder to the bellhop, and when he'd deflected (because there was no way in HELL he was telling that man "sorry"), she had...
Lucifer froze, eyes widening in recognition as everything clicked into place. Immediately, a bright golden blush spread across his cheeks, his struggles increasing tenfold. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn't good! "Don't you dare!"
The overlord chuckled. "Seems you do remember." Slowly, those clawed fingers came to life, beginning to spider down into the exposed hollows. "See, I'll get what I want, one way or another. Why not just give in now, save yourself the humiliation?"
The seraphim gritted his teeth, head pressed back against the chair as he stifled soft snickers. "F-Fuhuck you!" He hissed.
"You know, I was hoping you would say that."
Vox's pressure and speed increased, fingers curling as they practically vibrated into the sensitive flesh. He had experience with this, at least that's what Lucifer assumed. He was far too precise, too effective, to be a novice. The blonde shuttered to think who else had found themselves at the overlord's mercy.
"My associates and I have built a little device; perhaps you've noticed it?"
He HAD been aware of an odd pressure at the back of his neck, accompanied by a small pinch like that of a needle, but it had been the least of his concerns.
"Well, it has a very interesting little function. See, your magic can't manifest thanks to the blessed ropes, so instead it's building within you, waiting to erupt as soon as you're freed. The more distress your body is in, the more magic it'll produce in its desperate attempt to protect you. This little thing, here?" A claw moved to tap at the small, metallic device clasped at the nape of his neck. "It's going to siphon it; pull it directly from your blood while you laugh yourself silly."
"W-Why not just hurt me, then? Why thihis?"
Vox grinned wolfishly. "Hurting you would be a quicker way to induce distress, but this is far more humiliating for you, and entertaining for me."
"Shihihit!" Lucifer huffed before his mouth snapped shut once more. He could already feel titters bubbling in his chest, threatening to spill out. He couldn't break, not so soon! He was the KING of HELL, for Father's sake! He had to be better than that! Still, he felt his arms straining against the restraints, trying desperately to come down.
"Such a sensitive little thing! If I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have guessed you would be THIS WEAK!" Vox taunted, tracing little circles and triangles into the ticklish hollows. "It's almost too good to be true!"
"D-Do you ehehever stop tahahalking?" Lucifer groaned, cursing as a wave of giggles finally spilled out of him.
"You know, I really don't think you're in any position to be fucking sassing me right now." Vox's claws suddenly dug into Lucifer's armpits, vibrating and clawing ruthlessly at the sensitive nerves. That was all it took for the floodgates to open, bright, boyish laughter pouring from the king's lips. "There we go, much better."
Lucifer shook his head, trying to block out the teasing. He'd always been ticklish, even before Eden. His siblings used to love ganging up on him and tickling him to tears, but it was all in good fun, and he looked back on the memories with a sad fondness now.
After his fall, it was a while before he'd felt the sensation again, but eventually Lilith discovered her husband's sensitivity and made a regular habit of exploiting it (not that he minded, of course). He'd come to look forward to her little moods, and it had added another layer of misery to his existence when she disappeared, taking those playful, electrifying touches with her.
Only recently had he been exposed to tickling again, dragged into one of his daughter's little "bonding exercises" once afternoon and discovering, to his dismay, that seven years of touch-starvation had done nothing to lessen his ticklishness.
No, it seemed to have gotten worse.
"Poor little angel, too ticklish for his own good!" Vox crooned, resting a head on his shoulder as he raked his claws downwards, slowly dragging over each rib. "It's almost cute."
Lucifer's back arched, a shrill squeak tearing out of him before a fresh wave of giggles tumbled out. "Fuhuhuck yohohohohou! Lehehehehet me gohoho!" He tried to sound threatening, he really tried, but the wide grin and high-pitched snickers ruined the desired effect.
"Pssh, fuck no! Even if we didn't need your power, this opportunity would be too good to pass up!" Vox crowed, beginning to scratch between each rib, two at a time, listening to the rapid changes in volume and pitch in Lucifer's laughter depending on which set was being targeted. "Interesting...it seems some ribs are worse than others, wouldn't you say?"
The fallen seraphim shook his head harder, blonde hair a tussled mess, cheeks a deep shade of gold. "Nohohohohohohohoho!"
"Funny, I don't believe you."
A startled scream erupted from Lucifer as small, ticklish shocks suddenly raced through his nervous system, seemingly coming straight from the overlord's fingertips. "Fuhuhuhuhuhuhuck, wahahahahait wait wait!" He babbled, shrill giggles erupting his frantic plea.
"Oh yeah, the shocks always work wonders. You should have seen Alastor when I brought them out for him; he was practically beside himself, begging and bleating like a pathetic little fawn."
So the bellhop had been subjected to this, too? That gave Lucifer a little bit of solace, at least.
Vox dug into the lowermost ribs, just above the stomach, sending a fresh round of ticklish electricity and listening as his captive squealed with laughter. "I don't know what's more satisfying; seeing him beg or getting to watch YOU do the same thing. The King of Hell, brought low by a sinner, giggling like a baby."
A low growl interlaced Lucifer's snickers. "Fuhuhuhuck you! I don't beheheheheg" He retorted.
"You will, give it time."
Lucifer's eyes shot wide open as Vox's hands moved down, curling into the soft plane of his stomach and vibrating. He screech tore from his throat, immediately followed by a loud burst of cackling. Fuck, it was bad! It was so, so bad! "WAHAHAIT, NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!" The king wheezed, hips squirming from side to side in a futile attempt to evade the attack.
"Oh yeah, the tummy was a weak spot, wasn't it?" Vox crooned. "If I recall correctly, you just about burst when Angel Dust got you here." Fuck, he really MUST have seen everything! When Lucifer found out who the rat was, he was going to have them flayed, he swore!
To Lucifer's dismay, he could feel his magic thrashing within him, trying desperately to erupt and protect its host from the perceived threat. His horns lay just beneath the surface of his skin, his wings slamming against their invisible constraints in an effort to manifest. He heard a small clicking sound, just behind his ear, and he knew Vox's little device must be doing its job.
"There we go." Vox sang, clearly delighted. "Soon, we'll have enough magic to power our weapon and STILL have some leftover to experiment with. And you know what the best part is?" He leaned forward to purr into the seraphim's ear. "As long as I have you prisoner, we can repeat this process as many times as I like. Every day, I can come in and tickle you to tears, pull some of that precious angelic grace from your veins, and it never has to end. You're effectively immortal; this can go on forever."
That sent Lucifer's head spinning, a frantic squeal splitting the air as one of Lucifer's claws found his belly button. "NOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!" His legs kicked out, pedaling in the air in a futile attempt to escape.
"Yes..." Vox kept one hand at Lucifer's stomach, moving the other around to slip between the gap between Lucifer's back and the chair. His fingers found the angel's lower back, curling slightly before sending small, ticklish shocks directly up his captive's spine.
A loud ringing filled Vox's ears, followed by a seemingly incomprehensible string of syllables. Vox frowned, wincing as he turned down the sensitivity of his hearing. Lucifer had his head tossed back, screams of laughter echoing out as more of the garbled sounds tumbled from his lips.
After a moment, it registered the angel was speaking a language of some sort, but it wasn't anything Vox recognized. Lazily, he pulled up his language databases, combing through thousands of possibilities in seconds as he quickly weeded through most modern languages.
When he finally found a hit, bark of laughter erupted from the overlord. "Hoholy shit, you're speaking Enochian right now? It tickle that bad, your highness?" He crowed.
Another pulse of ticklish electricity shot up Lucifer's spine as Vox clawed at the seraphim's lower belly, just above the v-line. Now that he had the proper translator pulled up, Vox could clearly make out a string of curses between fits of hysterics.
This was so much worse than anything Lucifer had delt with before. Worse than being ganged up on by Charlie and her friends, worse than being subject Lilith's occasional foray into ticklish sadism (he supposed that made him a masochist, because he'd loved every second of it), worse than being surrounded by wiggling fingers and soft feathers as his siblings made him beg the Speaker to save him.
And the overlord was threatening to do this AGAIN? INDEFINATELY? He wasn't sure he would survive!
"It's a shame we can't get to those pretty wings of yours at the moment; I seem to recall those making you break a few lightbulbs when that little housekeeper got ahold of them. Imagine the power I could harvest with that little spot, hm?"
Lucifer found himself silently thanking Father for the blessed rope keeping them tucked away.
Vox ceased his attack, pulling back to allow his captive a moment to breath. Immediately, Lucifer slumped back against the chair, shaking with residual giggles. He swore, he could still feel the little jolts of electricity firing off in his nervous system...
Vox moved over to a small table, positioned just within Lucifer's peripheral vision. The fallen angel watched him closely, cautiously, a sense of dread pooling in his stomach.
The TV demon picked up something, though Lucifer couldn't quite make out what it was, humming a little tune as if he hadn't a care in the world. "You know what else my little spy brought me?"
He turned, and Lucifer felt his heart leap into his throat as a nervous grin immediately spread across his face. A large, white feather, the tip tinged with red. The seraphim recognized it well; it was one of his, after all.
He also knew just how fucking badly angelic feathers tickled.
"Ohohoho, Father preserve me..."
Vox smirked. "Nah, I don't think He's coming to help you anytime soon, so better start praying to your NEW god instead."
If he wasn't so nervous, Lucifer would have laughed. The sinner's ego was nearly as big as his own, and under other circumstances, he would have almost respected it. Now, though? Lucifer felt a chin go up his spine.
The sinner slowly stalked forward, twirling the feather as if to taunt him. "You know, Al's hooves are feather ticklish. Makes me wonder how YOURS would fair."
Yeah, Lucifer was royally screwed. As he felt another surge of magic flare up at the threat, he attempted to steel his features. He wouldn't give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing him crumble.
Putting You In Your Place || 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic
Summary: After seventy years, Vox finally has Alastor right where he wants him, but the Radio Demon refuses to let his will be broken. Well, there are remedies for that, as Vox is more than eager to remind him.
Warnings: Bondage, adult language, and dubcon (Alastor doesn't hate the tickling nearly as much as he pretends too, but the power imbalance at play could throw some people off).
Word Count: 2,333 words.
Victory tasted so good.
For a time, Vox had his doubts. Decades of fighting and petty back and fourths had done little to bring Alastor to his side or to his knees, and that smug prick remained seemingly unbothered all the while, smiling that stupid smile, laughing that stupid laugh, acting as if he was above it all.
Well, fuck him, Vox had done it. Finally, FINALLY, he had the Radio Demon at his mercy.
The circumstances leading up to Alastor's capture were still rather...odd, for lack of a better word. What started off as a typical fight between the two had spiraled into a full-on brawl as their respective supporters came to their aid.
Even injured, Alastor had put up one hell of a fight, but all it had taken to get him blurting out sweet deals and promises was a gun to that little maid's head. Vox had nearly scoffed, a mixture of disbelief and slight jealousy bubbling up inside of him. What, Vox hadn't been good enough to work with, but that little psycho and the rest of his hotel "friends" were? He didn't know whether to scream or laugh.
But as he listened to the deal Alastor laid out, so simple y et so enticing, anger gave way to bewildered excitement. Surely, there had to be a catch. That couldn't be all Alastor was asking for, could it?
And yet, here they were, Alastor bound to a chair across from Vox's desk, slumped over with a look of tired annoyance about him. He was still smiling, of course, but it was strained, as if the deer demon was barely keeping his composure.
The thought had Vox grinning like a shark.
"You don't know how long I've waited for this moment. The great Radio Demon, brought to his knees before me." He chuckled. "Honestly, Heaven is going to pale in comparison to this feeling."
Alastor rolled his eyes, letting out a little scoff. "Ever the narcissist, aren't you? Don’t tell me YOU are going for redemption."
The TV overlord snorted. “What? Fuck no! I don’t want redemption, I want dominion! All of Hell and all of Heaven, bending to my will!” He cackled.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
“Fuck you! As if you wouldn’t want the same.”
Alastor stayed silent. Vox leaned forward, elbows propped on his desk and fingers resting beneath his chin. “How does it feel, knowing you could have shared all of this with me? That you could have been a god, and instead you’ve been reduced to this; my little toy.”
A growl tore through Alastor’s throat. “You think me a fool? We both know you never share anything. And I’m certainly not your “toy,” as you so eloquently put it.”
"Is that right?" Vox cocked his head to the side. "Last time I checked, you were MINE, now. I can do whatever I damn well please with you, and I have an unfortunate habit of breaking my playthings."
"Fuck you."
A bark of laughter erupted from the other overlord, claws scraping across his desk as he stood. Alastor still had fight in him; that infuriating defiance and sense of superiority. Good; Vox looked forward to the challenge. After all, what fun would this be if Alastor broke into pitiful begging and despair right away? No, his former friend was better than that.
"Still running that mouth?" A hand moved forward, grabbing Alastor by the jaw and bringing his gaze up to meet his captor's.
Immediately, Alastor's head lunged forward, teeth snapping at Vox's fingers and missing by mere inches.
The other pulled back with a small gasp, eyes wide with shock before narrowing into near slits. "So that's how it's gonna be, huh? Maybe I should have kept that muzzle on you." He growled, hand moving to grip the deer sinner by the throat. "You know what happens to pets that bite, don't you?"
Alastor stilled under the touch, throat moving beneath the other's palm as he swallowed. "I'm not your pet!" He hissed, barely subdued fury lacing his words.
Vox stared at him for a moment, as if considering something. His eyes drifted down to Alastor's throat, then back up to his face, before a sly grin slowly spread across his screen. "Ohooo, you know what? I think I just remembered something." His voice was a borderline purr.
“What, how to have some class? Because you’ve not had that for decades, I’m afraid.”
Vox began to circle Alastor like a vulture. "No, no, something far more interesting." He sounded far too devious for Alastor's comfort.
Suddenly, fingers gripped one of Alastor's ears from behind, rubbing it gently between a thumb and forefinger. The deer sinner had to bite back a startled sound, eyes widened with shock as the appendage instinctually tried to twitch away.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Alastor forced out through gritted teeth.
Vox let out an amused chuckle. "What's the matter, Al? Don't tell me you're still ticklish?" His tone was smooth as silk, yet his words sent a shutter down Alastor's spine.
Fuck.
"Ticklish? Preposterous. I never was to begin with, so I don't know where that silly notion came from!" Alastor replied, trying to keep his voice calm and collected, despite his rapidly increasing heartrate.
The hand rubbing his ear moved up to tease the tip as Vox's free hand slipped around to regrasp the radio host's throat, holding his head still. "Don't lie to me." Vox murmured into his ear. "We both know damn well how sensitive you are."
Memories flashed through Alastor's head; days spent more than a little tipsy in a dingy smoking parlor, giggling and prodding at one another like a pair of children. At the time, Alastor had been far more openly affectionate, a practice he had since quashed. It wouldn't do for an overlord to allow himself to be seen in such a state, more or less to allow others to know how much he enjoyed it.
After he and Vox parted ways, Alastor had ensured that all who had witnessed that side of him were...taken care of. All but one, who now seemed determined to remind him of his little weakness.
"You're delusional." Alastor huffed, eyes narrowed as his breath caught in his throat. Vox's fingers had suddenly shifted downwards, trailing along the trapped ear before fluttering across his neck.
"Is that so? Then you won't mind me playing around for a bit, now, will you?" Vox's eyes met his, smugness oozing from his expression. Alastor couldn't wait to smash his screen in the first chance he got.
The Radio Demon opened his mouth, as if to give another sassy retort, and that's when his captor chose to strike. Clawed fingers came to life, scurrying across the exposed plane of Alastor's neck in a swift, brutal dance.
The words died on Alastor's lips as a startled yelp, following by something that sound suspiciously like a giggle, burst from his lips. Immediately, his mouth closed again, pressed into a firm line as his body shook with barely contained mirth.
Vox looked like he couldn't have been more delighted. "That shut you up real quick, didn't it, brat?" He taunted, scribbling under Alastor's chin before darting down to place a few sporadic prods to the deer demon's ribcage. "Man, if that's all it takes to get you to shut your mouth, I should have done this a long time ago!"
A screech of radio feedback rang through the air, almost resembling the cry of an elk, as Alastor squirmed against his restrains.
He could feel his shadows, his magic, squirming desperately beneath his skin, trying to manifest to protect their host. And yet, they remained locked inside of him, the constraints of his deal with Vox keeping them at bay. He was the other's prisoner, and his powers could not be freed until HE was, both physically and contractually.
"I-I will KILL yohohou!" Alastor cursed the giggly stammer; he was already losing his grip, his control. No, no, no, this wasn't right! This couldn't be happening! It was...childish, utterly pathetic!
And still, here they were, Vox grinning like he'd just won the lottery and Alastor wishing the bastard would just fall off a cliff.
"Oooh, you're sooo scaaary right now!" Vox teased, both hands now targeting his captive's ribs. Claws raked across the protruding bones, moving up and down, as if using a washboard. "Why don't you just go on and giggle for me some more, huh? 'Cause you're not getting out of this anytime soon!"
Alastor shook his head stubbornly, hair tussled as he jerked against his bindings. He bit his lower lip so hard he could taste blood; it was a welcome distraction.
"No? That's fine by me; it would be such a waste if you broke so quickly." Vox crooned, beginning to pluck at each rib individual in a seemingly inconsequential pattern...unless Alastor registered a vague familiarity to the movements; they were mimicking how one would play the piano.
Oh, Vox was DEAD when he got his hands on him!
"Don't you forget! You're mine to keep! I'll tickle and torment all night long until I make you weep!" The TV sinner sang, a burst of excited electricity shooting between his antennas.
Alastor felt his cheeks heating, no doubt turning a similar shade of red to his hair and attire. "Shuhuhuhuhuht uhuhuhuhuhup, you fohohohohohool!" He growled before finally collapsing into a fit of giggles, head tossed back.
Vox's grin sharpened at the small victory; one small step towards breaking the proud Radio Demon. It wasn't much, but it was certainly a start. "What's the matter, old pal? Can't take a little singing?" He mocked. "I thought you enjoyed theatrics!"
Alastor's legs kicked out frantically, the only part of himself he was really able to move, his chest heaving with mirth. "I sahahahahahahaid shuhuhuhuhuhut up!"
"Not a chance." Vox's attack moved downwards, latching onto the deer demon's sides and beginning to squeeze, slow and methodical. "In fact, I think you could do with a little humbling, little buck."
Alastor's laughter heightened in pitch, torso jerking from side to side in a vain attempt to avoid the tickling sensations. It was almost uncharacteristically boyish, unlike his typical maniacal cackle, and Vox felt his own screen heating up at the sound.
Deciding to get experimental, Vox began to shoot small bursts of electricity through his fingertips, curling his claws into Alastor's sides to hold him still as the staticky, ticklish bursts zapped directly into his nervous system. "Let's see how you like this, old timer."
Oh fuck, that was bad. Really, really bad. Alastor borderline squealed, a noise that mortified him to no end, before high-pitched cackles tumbled out of him in waves. "Fuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuck!" He cursed, eyes squeezed shut. "Dohohohohohon't!"
"Ohooo, was that begging I just heard?" Vox looked like he just received the world's best Christmas gift, features lighting up with amusement.
Alastor shook his head stubbornly, ears pinning back. "Nohohohohoho!" He argued. "I swear, w-whehehehehen I get free, I'm gohohohoing to-"
The other overlord clawed a hand, digging it into Alastor's stomach before vibrating it ruthlessly. Alastor's words were cut off by a giggly cry, his voice filter temporarily cutting out before coming back full force. "OHOHOHOHOHO SHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT!" He shook his head feverishly, sucking in his stomach in a vain attempt to protect himself from the ticklish assault.
Vox burst into laughter himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Still got a ticklish wittle tummy, I see!" He snickered, continuing to claw at the sensitive abdomen. "What a shame, 'cause I think I'm going to stay right here." The other overlord let out an odd noise, not unlike a fawn's bleat, as a claw found it's way to his navel, sending Vox into another fit of hysterics. "Christ, you BLEAT? I don't remember hearing THAT!"
Alastor was going to kill him. The second he got free, he was going to throw that pompous television onto his desk and give him something to laugh about!
That is, if he didn't die of laughter (or embarrassment) first.
"FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK! G-GEHEHEHEHEHET AHAHAHAHAWAY FROM THEHEHEHEHERE!" Alastor tried to sound threatening, he really did, but laughter tended to strip any menace from one's voice.
"Uh, FUCK NO! This is GREAT! I should turn the cameras on, let all of Hell see what a giggly little fawn the great Radio Demon is!" Vox threatened, earning a noise of indignation (and panic) from his rival. "Buuut, you were right about one thing. I don't like to share, and this? THIS is all for ME!"
Oh, thank Satan for that.
"Now, let's see how that tummy of yours takes a few shocks, hm?" Vox purred, voice distorting slightly with television static.
Alastor only had one moment to process the statement before he was sent into another wave of hysteria, bleat after bleat tearing from his throat as small shocks attacked his helpless stomach. It was mortifying, overwhelming...and strangely nostalgic, in a way, though Alastor pushed that last thought to the back of his mind as soon as it formed. No, he was NOT enjoying this! He WASN'T!
And yet, it seemed Vox had noticed his lack of real objection as well, grin morphing into something borderline playful; an expression Alastor hadn't seen in decades.
"You still like this, don't you?" He crooned, keeping up the ticklish shocks to prevent Alastor from being able to protest the statement. "Well, shit, some thing never change, do they? Lets see what else has stayed the same, hm? How about those hips? They still bad?"
Alastor was royally fucked. He could only hope he could find a way to free himself (or, worst case scenario, that someone would come to his rescue) before he was reduced to a pleading mess.
One thing was certain, though; the second the opportunity presented itself, he was going to make Vox feel each and every thing he put him through, starting with those ticklish antennas of his.
From the Desk of the Panda Scribe @hexalianrebel-blackfeathers - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
