#ler!lucifer

[sleepysheepytea]

⚠️warning for restraints !! ⚠️

a part two to this

umm yes so alastor is not going to broadcast his giggles (who are we kidding ofc hes going to)

also i am choosing to believe that luci can do tickly magic because i want to think that

im actually having a lot of fun drawing these two which is funny cuz i didnt rly care abt them much when i first saw the show but i love yapping abt them with ash cuz they always have iconic ideas

EEE this was fun

[the-giggle-collector]

:3

[ticklishashell]

There Are Other Ways || 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic

Summary: Lucifer may not be able to hurt Vox, but he's sure as hell not going to let the overlord's blatant display of disrespect go unpunished.

This is a bit of wish-fulfillment for me and pretends the later half of episode 5 and the entirety of episode 6 didn't happen.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, bondage, adult language, dubcon, and spoilers for season 2 episode 5.

Word Count: 3,064 words.

It wasn't often Lucifer felt this level of rage.

Sure, he could get angry, and often did (especially around that prick of a deer Charlie insisted on keeping around), but it usually fizzled out into a dull irritation relatively quickly

This anger, however, was entirely different.

That cocky little mortal, the one with the big mouth and the television for a head, had dared to challenge him, to rake his authority across the coals, in front of the entirety of Hell.

He had laid bare his weaknesses, his insecurities, as if they were nothing. He had stared him in the eye, grinning smugly as he dared the fallen seraphim to smite him. He had laughed in his face when he didn’t (but oh, how he had wanted to).

And then, the icing on top of the cake, he had brought up his wife, his banishment, his utter helplessness in the face of Heaven's punishment.

Lucifer growled, punching the cracked brick wall as hard as he could, little hunks and pieces shooting off in every direction. After his public crucifixion, he had skulked off to tend to his wounded pride, but as the minutes dragged on, his fury only continued to grow.

The king stared at the wall, his fist indented into the brick without so much as a scratch to his knuckles; how badly he wanted it to be that sinner's head.

But no, that would be too kind, wouldn't it? His heavenly punishment would never allow such a thing. The overlord could run his mouth as much as he wanted, could stoke the anger of Hell's citizens to a destructive blaze, could drag his and his daughter's names through the mud, and Lucifer could not harm a single hair on his head (if he had hair).

"What I wouldn't give to disembowel him on his own stupid broadcast!" Lucifer seethed through gritted teeth. The king paced back and forth, tail lashing as he ran a hand over one of his protruding horns. "There must be SOMETHING I can do! Something to put that arrogant little nobody in his place! But what?!"

Now that the other knew he wouldn't (or in reality, couldn't) harm him, any threats of violence would be ineffective. He couldn't blackmail him; he knew so little about his subjects, even the more high-profile ones. To dig up dirt on the overlord, if something worthwhile could even be found, would take far too long for Lucifer's liking. No, he wanted retribution to be swift and brutal.

"Maybe I just need to think outside of the box on this..." Lucifer mused, leaning back against the dingy ally wall and gazing up at the reddened sky thoughtfully. "Charlie isn't one for violence; what would SHE do in this situation?"

Something painless, likely odd by Hell's standards. But what fell into those categories without being utterly pointless?

Suddenly, Lucifer froze. It was as if a lightbulb lit up in his mind, his eyes widening slightly. It was an utterly absurd idea; childish, unbelievable. He should quash it immediately, and yet, the notion is oddly enticing.

'Something painless yet effective. Something humiliating. Something to teach the sinner his place.' Lucifer's snarl slowly morphed into a devilish smirk.

Ah, what the hell? It was worth a try, wasn't it?

...

Lucifer waited in silence, watching as the crowd slowly began to disperse. On the stage, that TV-headed prick and his goons were laughing up a storm, with the mother sinner even swapping spit with his target on the large telescreens plastering the stage (disgusting, Lucifer seethed; even he and Lilith had not been so brazen).

From the corner of his eye, Lucifer caught movement off to the side of the stage, near the curtains. Well, look who it was. It seemed Bambi wasn't just missing, he had went and gotten himself CAPTURED.

A small smirk twitched at Lucifer's lips; at least one good thing had come out of this whole mess. His attention diverted back to his target (Vox, THAT was his name), watching as he strutted off the stage like he was hot shit.

Father, Lucifer couldn't WAIT to knock him off of his pedestal.

...

Vox collapsed onto his bed, letting out a pleased sigh. Today had went better than he could have hoped for. Everyone had taken the bait, said exactly what he needed them to, and now his godhood was nearly secured. Now, all he had left to do was find his way into Heaven, roll a few heads, and his immortality would be cemented.

"Fuck, who knew winning could feel so good?" He groaned, eyes closed, a wide grin stretching across his screen.

Silence surrounded him, nearly deafening after a day of loud cheers and angry yells. This was the first time he'd been alone in quite some time; lately it had been impossible to get a moment to himself, between Val trying to crawl into his bed, Velvette pitching new ideas for their smear campaign, and Alastor crooning a steady stream of insults into his ear.

Well, screw all of them. Tonight, he was going to sleep easy and revel in all of his hard work.

The sound of shattering glass pierced the silence.

SECURITY BREACH DETECTED: LIVING ROOM WINDOW HAS BEEN COMPROMISED.

The message flashed through Vox's processor, his eyes snapping open. "The fuck?" He asked slowly.

SECURITY BREACH DETECTED: UNAUTHORIZED SOUL HAS ENTERED YOUR LIVING QUARTERS.

In an instant, Vox was on his feet, stalking towards the living room as fury bubbled inside him. After the display he made today, who would dare to intrude on his sanctuary? Was someone looking to make a name for themself by taking down Hell's new figurehead? Did they have a death wish? Because Vox would happily grant it.

As the overlord stepped out, the dull red glow of Pride’s skies bathed the darkened living room in its sinister glow. One of the large, penthouse-style windows had been shattered, small pieces of glass littering the floor like diamonds.

Vox’s frown tightened.

"I know you're there. Why don't you just come on out, hm?" Vox accessed his numerous security cameras, flipping between each one in search of the perpetrator. No one could hid from him, especially not in his own damn tower. He had eyes EVERYWHERE.

A low, familiar chuckle reverberated through the room, making Vox's heart jolt. "I'll bet you felt mighty proud of yourself today, hm?"

Two glowing, red sclera and golden pupils met his gaze, Lucifer practically oozing out of the shadows. His demonic form was still on full display, horns curving from his forehead, wings spread wide and making him appear twice as large as he actually was, tail flicking back and forth in agitation. A few days ago, it would have been an intimidating display, but Vox knew better now.

The overlord's trademark smirk returned. "Aaah, your majesty. So nice of you to drop by." He chuckled. "Come to bend the knee to the TRUE ruler of Hell?"

Lucifer returned the smirk, eyes narrowing. "You don't know when to shut your mouth, do you, little sinner?" He purred, taking a step forward. "This is exactly why you need to be reminded of your place."

Vox didn't budge, meeting the seraphim's gaze challengingly. "Pssh, what are YOU gonna do, huh? I've already proven you won't, or more accurately can't, hurt me! Your just a weak, pathetic loser who tries to bluff his way into domination. Well, I don't need to bluff! I have the power to back up my threats!"

The fallen angel's smirk tightened. "It's true, I can't hurt you." He hummed, beginning to slowly circle the overlord. "Not in a traditional sense, at least. But you're a fool if you thought I would let your disrespectful, mouthy behavior go unpunished. I have other ways of reminding you who's really in charge."

The TV-headed demon snorted. "Oh reeeally? And what exactly would those be?"

Lucifer stopped in front of him, smirk morphing into a borderline feral smile. "I'm so glad you asked."

In seconds, he had Vox backed against the wall, boxing the taller man in with his outstretched wings. His tail slipped upwards, coiling around Vox's wrists and tugging them over his head before pinning them firmly against the cool plaster.

Vox let out a snarl of rage, struggling against Lucifer's hold as sparks flew from his antenna. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He growled.

"Well, as you so kindly pointed out, beating the shit out of you isn't really an option in this case, so I'm just going to have to settle for breaking that big ego of yours." Lucifer sang. "There's plenty of ways I can do that without leaving so much as a bruise, and my dear little Charlie gave me the most WONDERFUL idea."

"What, you going to cuddle me to death? That's embarrassing for YOU, maybe, but-"

Lucifer placed a clawed hand on the overlord's stomach, fingers curling ever-so-slightly. "I would shut your mouth and listen if I were you."

Surprisingly enough, Vox did as commanded, eyeing the hand with uncertainty. He wasn't scared; he had no reason to be. The little bastard couldn't do shit to him that REALLY mattered; this all had to be just one last, desperate attempt to maintain his power.

Pathetic little king.

"Good boy." Lucifer crooned patronizingly, as if speaking to a dog. "Now, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to play with you for a bit, figure out what gets you giggling like a little bitch, and I'm not going to stop until you get it through that big ass screen of yours that YOU are not the one in charge here, I am."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Vox asked, confusion clear in his tone. Giggling? What in the unholy hell was he playing at?

"Here, allow me to demonstrate." Suddenly, the claws at his stomach came to life, dancing across the toned muscle like spiders crafting a web. "Tell me, you wouldn't happen to be ticklish, would you?"

Tickling? That was his angle? "W-What the fuck?!" Vox barked, screen glitching briefly in shock as his stomach instinctively sucked in. "Get off of me, you freak!"

Lucifer shook his head. "Nope! I won't be stopping anytime soon, so you better just suck it up and take it, little man." His hands slipped under Vox's dress shirt, exploring the bare skin hidden beneath. "You're nothing but my little tickle toy until I say otherwise."

Vox felt his screen heading at the other's words, an electric blue blush overtaking his features. "Fuhuhuck you!" He growled, immediately regretting his choice to speak as a flurry of giggles slipped out.

"Wow, that was quick. You must be pre-tty sensitive to be laughing already." Lucifer taunted, ghosting his fingers over Vox's ribcage. The overlord lurched underneath him, a barely muffled snicker emitting from his speakers. "We're going to have lots of fun together, you and I."

"Lihihihike HELL we wihihihill! Lehehehet me gohohohoho!" Vox shook his head, snorting loudly as Lucifer began to tweak at his ribs, plucking them two by two as he worked his way upwards towards the armpits.

The seraphim hummed thoughtfully. "You mortals, so delicate. It would be so easy to snap you like a twig, right here, right now. Still, I feel like breaking you THIS was is going to be far more entertaining, don't you?"

"Screhehehehehehew you!"

"Still got quite a mouth on you, though. I guess I'll just have to fix that!"

Vox's eyes bulged as Lucifer's fingers crawled into his armpits, clawing into the tender flesh before vibrating. A shriek tore from the overlord's throat, head snapping back as laughter began to pour from him in waves.

"Hohohohohoholy shihihihihihit! Gehehehehehehet the fuhuhuhuck ohohohohohout of there!"

Lucifer chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief. "The armpits are pretty bad, huh? You know, my big brother Michael used to be ticklish here, too, so I got plenty of practice in."

Vox shook his head feverishly, shaking with squeals and giggles as Lucifer's claws slowly took him apart, one ticklish nerve at a time. "Gohohoho to hehehehehell!"

"Already there, and I'm dragging..." His claws raked back down Vox's ribcage, slowly and tauntingly, earning a chorus of guffaws. "You off of that high horse of yours, right back down here with me."

Vox's knees buckled as Lucifer found his sides, arms going slack against the seraphim's hold. "Nononohohohohohohoho! Dohohohohon't!" It meant to sound like an order, but instead came out as a babbly plea.

"Oho, what are THESE?" Lucifer crowed with delight, claws gently tracing the set of giggles adorning the sinner's sides. "So you're not just a television, huh? You got some animal mixed in with you? Interesting..."

Another snort tumbled from Vox as he heaved with giggles. "G-Gehehehehet awahahahahahay!" His legs scuffed against the floor, useless.

"Mmmm...no. In fact, I think I'll stay right here for a while..." Lucifer purred, slowly tracing each gill, careful not to nick the delicate flesh with his claws. "Coochie coochie coochie coochie cooooo!"

Vox convulsed, chest heaving as a high-pitched shriek tore out of him. He felt his cooling fans kick on at the other's playful words, trying desperately to cool his heating face. "FUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK! NOHOHOHOHOHO, NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!"

"These must be a really bad spot, if they've got you begging so quickly." Lucifer observed, slipping a claw just under one of the gills to gently tease the flap beneath. Vox screeched in response, laughter going downright maniacal.

Lucifer grinned smugly, watching the cocky sinner flail and cackle under his touch. Maybe Charlie had a point with the whole "violence isn't always the answer" thing, because DAMN, was this fun to watch! The seraphim leaned up, standing on his toes to crane his mouth to the sinner's neck.

"Poor, helpless little mortal, too ticklish to cope. All you can do is laugh and laugh, until I see fit to release you. And after all the shit you pulled, I may NEVER do that. I may just decide to keep you as my personal tickle toy, reducing you to a blushing, giggling mess whenever I feel like. Would you like that?" His teeth found the sensitive skin at the crook of Vox's neck, nibbling gently.

Vox's eyes went wide, laughter taking on a panicked quality. "NONONONOHOHOHOHOHOHO! P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!"

He hated that he was begging, that he felt so weak, but what could he do? He was trapped, like a fly in a web, and as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't see a way out of this unless Val or Velvette happened to stumbled upon them (a fate arguably worse than death; he would rather stab himself with an angelic spear than have someone see him in this state).

"Aaaw, you're starting to learn some manners! We're making progress, then." Lucifer pulled back, affording Vox a chance to breath. "Now, I want you to make a deal with me, asshole. I want you to swear to keep my name, my wife's, and my daughter's out of your fucking mouth. You will not slander us, or even speak a single bad word about us, got that?"

Vox panted, still shaking with giggles. He lifted his head, mustering up a defiant smirk. "E-Eat shihihihit."

Lucifer's grin shifted, taking on a more sinister quality. "I was hoping you would say that." He dragged the sinner towards the windows, pressing him against one of the unbroken panes, facing outwards towards Pentagram City. Vox struggled, trying to break the other's hold, but even his strength was no match for an angel's. "Let's give your little followers a show then, shall we?"

Vox's eyes widened. "Wait, what-"

In an instant, those devilish claws had returned to his torso, clawing at his belly in a manner that had Vox screeching. He squirmed against the glass, feeling a jolt of electricity shimmer through his antennas.

No one could see them, he knew that. The windows were darkly tinted, and who would be looking up this high anyways? It was clearly a bluff, but the mere prospect of someone seeing him like this sent his head spinning.

"LEHEHEHEHEHET ME GOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! FUHUHUHUHUCKING DIHIHIHIHIHICK!"

"Aaand there's that potty mouth again. Man, you make it really hard to feel bad for you right now, you know that?" Lucifer chided, returning to nibbling at the sinner's neck as he traced a finger around Vox's navel.

Vox was going mad, he just knew it! It was so much, worse than any stupid little session Valentino had roped him into over the years, and FAR worse than the drunken antics he used to get up to with Alastor. In this situation, he was utterly powerless, a fact that seemed to crank his sensitivity through the roof.

Christ, he was fucked, wasn't he?

Vox's resolve broke when Lucifer's fingers went back to his gills, voice going hoarse from the volume of his scream. "OHOOHOKAY, OHOHOHOKAY! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP, PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE! FUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK!"

Lucifer paused, smirking with delight. "Ready to accept my deal, little sinner?"

Vox shook, panting and snickering as he tried to regain his composure. "F-Fine, fine! I'll agree to your terms, just fucking stop!"

Lucifer turned him around, tail uncoiling from the sinner's wrists. He outstretched a hand, waiting patiently with the smuggest smile Vox had ever seen. God, how he wanted to wipe that stupid look off his face! How he wanted to tear the seraphim's wings from his body and throw him from the tower!

But he couldn't, could he? Even if Lucifer couldn't smite him, he had more than proven his willingness to use...other methods to punish insubordination, and the prospect of what he would do should Vox continue to refuse sent a chill up the overlord's spine.

Slowly, Vox took his hand, giving it a weak shake. An eruption of blue electricity and golden light surrounded the two, linking Vox's wrist to Lucifer's with a golden chain. Not a soul contract, so it wouldn't take the appearance of a collar, but it felt no less restrictive.

"Good boy! Now, shall we continue your punishment?"

Vox froze. "W-What?"

"I never said I was finished with you, did I? The deal was only that YOU would behave, not that I would stop punishing you. Oooh no, after everything you've done, we're far from finished here. I've not even gotten to use my wings yet..."

Yeah, Vox was DEFINATELY fucked.

[fallofsirius]

@ticklishashell and I were cooking, and I got inspired🙂‍↕️

CW: semi-nudity-ish?? Nothing is rlly happening but again minors begone

Anyways Alastor and his emotional support doe (but there is no support)

Click for normal quality tf

They make me sick

CLOSEUPS UNDER THE CUT

[radioactiveler]

AYYY UR BACK!!! 🥳🥳🥳 Might I request some lee!Vox ler!Lucifer?

Lucifer asking the real questions

[sunstone-smiles]

Trust Us With Your Stay

Author’s note: Season two ended about six months ago, but Vox has still not left my brain. This idea came to me in a dream (No literally it did-) and I fleshed out that spark into a full fic! This is also inspired by the redemption arc AU for Vox I’ve seen around! Listen- I know Vox, did some, uh, things, but that will NOT stop me from putting him in silly situations. Mwhahaha! (Lol) I hope you enjoy! (Edit: Now on Ao3! Link here!)

Series: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Vox, Charlie, Vaggi, Lucifer

Word count: 3,390

Summary: Charlie finds herself in a dilemma when Vox comes to the Hazbin Hotel to check in as a genuine guest. She questions how she can trust him, but she gets an idea for the ultimate test: a trust exercise so unexpected, so goofy, that it will show a different side of Vox they could potentially trust! 

(SPOILER WARNING for the end of Season 2! Also warning for swearing, but it’s Hazbin so- lol)

---

Now that redemption has been confirmed by their good friend Sir Pentious up in heaven, the past few days have had Charlie excitedly scrambling around to get rooms prepared and the Hazbin Hotel appearance ready for when guests arrive. Her efforts have already drawn in some new sinners who are willing to test the path of redemption, but there is still so much more work to be done if the Hazbin Hotel is to welcome as many demons as possible.

Charlie speedwalks down the lobby, calling out to her friends as she passes by them.

“Okay, Nifty, I need all those clean towels in rooms five hundred to six hundred!” she spins on her heels, “Clean towels Niffty! Clean!” 

She points, “Husk! Those bottles can go on floor three!” 

She takes charge, “Cherri! I want to see those picture frames on floor four!”

Charlie turns around, immediately noticing her girlfriend ahead of her. “Vaggie! How’s the rest of the lobby looking?”

“It’s as clean as it was when we cleaned it yesterday,” Vaggi says with a chuckle. She cups Charlie’s hand, reminding the princess to stand still and take a breather. “Relax babe,” Vaggi places her hand on Charlie’s cheek. “No matter what, it’s going to be great.”

Charlie sweetly leans into the touch and grabs Vaggi’s hand. “Heh, sorry. I’m just so excited.”

“I know. It’s been a long road to get here, but I’m glad so many sinners are finally starting to see all the hard work you put into this.”

Charlie returns a warm smile towards her, “Thanks, Vaggi.”

As the two stand in the front of the lobby, the door to the hotel suddenly clicks. 

Charlie gasps for air and violently shakes Vaggi’s shoulders. “It’s a new guest!” She fixes her posture to stand up as straight as a pole. “Get ready to greet them!” She says, pumped full of excitement.

The door starts to swing open. Charlie already begins speaking before she can process who or what she’s seeing.

“Welcome, sinner to the Hazbin Ho-whoa whoa, what the HELL??!!” Charlie changes her tune when she realizes that the TV overlord himself—the demon who wanted to destroy her reputation and everything she’s worked for—Vox, walks through her doors. The last time she saw him, he was just a screen for a head. But now, he seems as good as new, and standing in the lobby of her hotel, surprisingly… alone.

Charlie bares her fangs at him. Her voice starts to growl. “What are you doing here?”

Vox simply puts on a smile that could steal the spotlight. “What a warm welcome, Princess. It’s nice to know you haven’t forgotten me.”

Vaggi steps by Charlie’s side, ready to protect her at a moment's notice. She glares at Vox and crosses her arms, “Looks like you got your body back.”

Vox scoffs. “Yeah, well, let’s not even start to talk about that.”

Charlie stomps a foot forward, standing her ground. “Look Vox. If you’re here for another fight, forget it.”

Vaggi adds, “Another fight that we’ll destroy you in.”

Vox throws his hands up, acting innocent. “Hey, hey. I get it. We have history. But I’m not here for a fight.”

Vaggi and Charlie exchange quick glances at each other.

Vox chortles. “No no, as a matter of fact…” he bares his fangs in a toothy grin. “I’m here to check in, as a guest,” he says the last word with a sinister twitch of static.

“A GUEST???” Charlie and Vaggi shout simultaneously.

“That’s right,” Vox says with full confidence.

“What makes you think that we’ll believe you?!” Vaggi snarls, “After everything you’ve done—for all we know, this could just be another plan to spy on us!”

“Believe me, I know how it sounds.” Vox pauses; he crosses his arms and gazes to the side. “I don’t want to be here either,” he nearly mumbles his last sentence to himself, pairing a sigh with his words. His sigh though…it wasn’t snarky for once. It sounded… hurt. Are his antennae drooping?

Vox continues, taking a breath, “Valentino and Velvette kicked me out. They said that if I want to be back on the Vees’ good side, they said I have to behave myself here and make amends.” His smug smile returns on his screen for his next sentence, “And to come here to serve my punishment.”

Charlie replies first, “Okay, I don’t appreciate the hotel being used as a method of punishment. But…” she contemplates for a moment. She puts her hands together and takes a deep breath. Her voice turns softer and determined, “I’ve said before that it’s my goal for any sinner to at least have a chance at redemption… and, as much trouble as you’ve put us through, that includes our enemies.”

“Charlie! Babe!” Vaggi interjects. “A word?” 

Vaggi gently takes her arm and pulls her aside; Vox wanders to the center of the lobby while they talk.

“Charlie,” Vaggi’s voice is stern, yet gentle, “I know how much you want to prove that any sinner has a home here at the hotel and take in everyone you see—you’re sweet like that—but we can’t trust him. How could we trust him?”

“I know, I know. Taking his word for it has hurt us in the past before, but I can’t just turn him away that easily.” Charlie glances at Vox. “He seems hurt, and weak. I’ve never seen him like that before.” She looks down at the ground as she ponders. “There’s got to be a way where we can prove that he’s telling the truth. Something that can make him vulnerable enough where we can prove why he’s really here… A trust exercise, or something…”

As Charlie desperately wonders, the king of hell, Lucifer, walks into the lobby, looking around the room.

“Hey Charlie, where did you say you wanted the-” Lucifer screeches to a stop like a speeding tire hitting the brakes, followed by a gigantic gasp when he notices Vox standing in the middle of the hotel.

“What the FUCK is he doing here?!” Lucifer shouts. He pounces forward and tackles Vox to the ground. He pins him down by pushing on his shoulders. Lucifer bares his growling fangs.

Vox looks up and returns an antagonizing grin, “Well, hello to you too, your majesty.”

Lucifer snarls. His horns begin to grow and his eyes turn fiery red. “How DARE you show your face around here!”

“Wait, Dad! Don’t hurt him!” Charlie calls out. “He… He might be a guest.”

Lucifer’s horns retract and his eyes return to normal, though they’re filled with shock. “A- GUEST???!”

Before he can start asking questions, Vox responds with a smirk from below, “That’s right, your majesty. And you’re currently pinning down a potential customer.”

Lucifer growls at the TV demon and keeps holding him down. “But Charlie!” Lucifer tries to reason with his daughter, “This is the same demon who mocked you on television! Who nearly blew up heaven! Who… who…” Lucifer gathers his scattered thoughts, “Who used my power and gave me bad tickles!”

Unexpectedly, like a flower given water, Charlie perks up. A possible answer for her current dilemma pops in her mind.

“Hey, Dad?” Charlie asks. “This might be strange, but can you hold Vox’s arms over his head? I have an idea.”

Both the king of hell and the TV overlord stare at her with wide eyes and blink as they process her words.

“Excuse me-?” Vox says like he misheard her, but he knows what he heard.

Lucifer brings his attention back to Vox. “Uh… sure,” he responds to Charlie. “Sure!” his second response is more enthusiastic. From his current advantageous position, Lucifer begins wrangling Vox’s wrists into his hands.

“Hey!” Vox tries to wrestle the King of Hell off of him, but Lucifer nabs both of his hands, then hops behind his head. He pins his wrists to the ground, effectively keeping Vox’s arms above his head. Lucifer grins from ear to ear at him. Vox could struggle, but he just grumbles and rolls his eyes instead. 

Charlie then approaches Vox.

“Wait, Charlie!” Vaggi holds an arm out to her as she leaves her side. “What are you doing?”

Charlie looks over her shoulder, her words paired with a smile, “You’ll see. Trust me.”

Lucifer chimes in, “Yeah, what are you going to do, Char Char? Oh, oh! Are you going to smite him? Now, you know I don’t condone violence, but in this case I’ll make an exception,” Lucifer jokes with a devilish grin.

“No, nothing like that, dad,” Charlie says as she sits down and straddles herself over Vox’s hips. Both Vaggi and Lucifer share looks of confusion.

“Whoa-ho! Princess!” Vox chortles in surprise. “I didn’t expect this from you. In front of your girlfriend too?” Vox jests.

“What- Ew no,” Charlie quickly puts a stop to that train of thought. She shakes her head to get rid of that image. Charlie sits up straight as she declares her plan, “Vox, if you want to be a part of this hotel, then we have to trust you. So, this method will help us see a new, lighthearted side of you—Hopefully.”

Vox takes a breath to make a sarcastic remark, but Charlie quickly yells, “Okay- onetwothree, here we go!”

She dives her hands towards Vox’s sides and wiggles her fingers in the spot.

“Gack!” Vox makes a strangled noise like a yelp, but nothing else follows it; Charlie thought there would be more of a reaction…

Vox takes a second to respond. “Princess!” he lets out a surprised chuckle, yet there’s the slightest hint of a shaky breath in his tone. “What are you doing?”

Charlie moves her hands away. “I’m tickling you. Is it not working?” she sounds a bit disappointed.

“Oooo, sorry princess, but I’m not ticklish,” Vox’s know-it-all tone reappears. “Looks like your trust exercise is a bust.”

“Liar,” Lucifer leans his head into Vox’s view, grinning down at him. “Lying is a sin you know, Vox. Go ahead Charlie. Keep going.”

Vox stumbles out a scoff. “Tch-Ha! I’m not lying! I’m the TV overlord. You really think a little tickling is going to work on me-HEEEE!” Vox screeches when Charlie’s hands plunge back towards his sides while he’s distracted. Vox shuts his mouth up tight, his smile wobbling each second with the desire to burst into a smile. He holds it together for now, clearly keeping back laughter.

“What’s the matter, Vox?” Lucifer’s tone drips with a smirk. “You were so confident just a moment ago. What happened?”

Vox growls through his gritted fangs. “You’re not holding to win this!” his words strain not to add in a giggle. He immediately muffles a squeak when Charlie wiggles her fingers over his stomach and he sucks in his belly.

“Oh, I think we already have,” Lucifer says. “Keep searching Charlie! There’s got to be a spot that’ll make him break somewhere.”

Vox spits out a reply, “Yeah?! Well, good luck!”

Charlie thinks out loud, “Let’s see… I’ve tried his sides… his belly… Hmm, what about here?” Charlie’s curious fingers crawl up to his ribs.

Vox jolts and muffles an impending explosion of laughter. He kicks his legs like a horse trying to get out of a patch of dirt while the hisses like a wire short circuiting start to slip from his screen. 

His snickers crackle, then a giggle slips, and Vox looses the battle, “Fuck! Hahahahaha!” he finally breaks into laughter.

“I found one! I found a spot!” Charlie exclaims with pure excitement. Vaggi witnesses it all from the side, bewildered.

“Ha ha! Nice going, Char Char!” Lucifer laughs along too. His tone shifts to tease Vox, “Oooh, the ribs, huh? A classic spot to be ticklish, Vox.”

“Shuhuhuhut the fuhuhuhuck up!”

“Language, Vox!” Lucifer acts like he’s appalled.

Charlie giggles, “Hehe, yeah. He is really ticklish,” Charlie says with a hint of surprise. She hoped her plan would work, but it’s working even better than she imagined. She tests out a previous spot she tried before and scribbles her fingers over his belly. Vox barks out a laugh and kicks his heels into the floor, trying unsuccessfully to curl up his middle.

“Really, really ticklish,” Charlie adds to her own statement.

Vaggi speaks after being so stunned, though she’s also quite amused. “I- I can’t believe it… It’s actually working. I mean, don’t get me wrong, babe, I'm glad your plan is working, but I never expected to see this.”

Charlie chuckles. “Never underestimate the power of kindness, Vaggi! Aaaand, in this case, tickling!”

“Ahahalright, lahahaugh it up yohohohou three-hehehehe!” Vox cackles.

“Oh, we intend to,” Lucifer revels in the sight.

“But nicely of course!” Charlie clarifies, “We’re laughing with you, not at you! It’s a trust exercise, remember?”

“Fine, fine, I’m laughing with you,” Lucifer amends his statement. “Even though you look ridiculous right now,” he quips.

“Dad!” Charlie can’t help a giggle. “Don’t listen to him, Vox. It’s actually nice to see you happy.”

“Thahahat’s NOHOHOT helping!” Vox exclaims.

“Whaaat, I am being nice!” Lucifer spins his claim, “Looking ‘ridiculous’ in this context is a complement! I’m just being honest and honesty is a way to build trust! Now, let’s see here… where else would he be ticklish?” Lucifer scans Vox. His eyes stop when he reaches his underarms. “Hmmm,” the King of Hell hums with a curved smile and a deep chuckle in his chest. “Oh, Vaggi? Could you take over for me?”

“Uh…Sure,” Vaggi walks over, keeping an eye on Vox in case he tries anything.

“Dad? What are you planning?” Charlie smiles. She stills her fingers and gives Vox a breather. The TV demon lets out trickles of giggles even after Charlie stops.

“Oh nothing,” Lucifer says.

Vaggi stands by Lucifer’s side, “What do you need me to do?”

“Just hold his arms up niiiice and high for me,” Lucifer passes Vox’s hands into Vaggi’s grip. The King of Hell then looms over Vox. A big toothy smirk takes over his face and his fingers wiggle in the air like they’ve been possessed.

Vox’s eyes widen. “Nonononono!” he kicks his heels into the carpet and tries to sink into the floor. “Put that SMIRK away!”

Charlie can’t help herself and giggles again, “Dad.”

“What? I’m just providing one of our guests great service by showing them what they have to look forward to.”

“You call this service??!” Vox shouts.

“Service with a smile,” Lucifer replies. He wiggles his fingers in Vox’s view, then hovers them over his underarms; Vox flinches with an already wobbly smile.

“Trust me, Vox.” Lucifer says. “This won't hurt a bit… But it’s really gonna tickle.”

Vox follows with a snarl, trying to act tough. “If you’re going to do it, just do it alread-EYYYYYYY!” he screeches when Lucifer suddenly dives his fingers into his underarms, free for the tickling. 

“Well, if you insist,” Lucifer smirks over the explosive sound of Vox’s laughter. Vox momentarily bucks and lifts his wrists from the floor, but Vaggi pushes them back down after almost being taken aback by Vox’s gigantic reaction.

“Ohohohohoho FUHUHUCK! Thahahahat dohohoes really tickle!!!” Vox’s voice cracks as he spills high-pitched giggles and cackles, even surprising himself with how loud he is.

“We can see that, Vox,” Lucifer teases, “I think they can hear you all the way up in heaven with that scream.”

“It wasn’t that loud,” Charlie reassures, smiling.

“I don’t know. It was pretty impressive,” Vaggi grins. “Hey, are these ticklish too?” Vaggi grabs both of Vox’s hands in one hand and fiddles with Vox’s antennas. The TV man practically squeaks.

“EEK! Yehehehes! Yehehes they are!” Vox scrunches his shoulders to his neck.

Vaggi chuckles and pulls her hand away, showing him at least some sort of mercy.

“Come on guys, take it easy on him,” Charlie says in a lighthearted manner, then scribbles her fingers into his sides. 

Vox jolts, “Aha! Princess!” Vox giggles like one would to a good friend. It actually takes Charlie by surprise with the way he said it so playfully. However, her attention is suddenly shifted when she also hears a snort come out of Vox.

Charlie lights up. “Aww! Was that a snort? That was cute!” she complements, not meaning to tease despite how it sounds.

“A snort too, Vox? You’re just full of surprises today,” Lucifer smirks and crawls his fingers to the top of Vox’s ribs.

“I- Yohohou- Hahahaha!” Vox’s words dissolve into pure, unrestrained, wheezy laughter.

It’s at this moment that Charlie realizes that, despite this crazy plan of hers, Vox is dropping his guard around them. His responses are less snarky and he’s not trying to fight back—he’s not even trying hard enough to pull his arms down. Not only that, but Charlie notices that her dad and Vaggi are smiling with him instead of at him. It’s a rare sight of mutual enjoyment between the three of them, seeing the genuine smiles on each of their faces. 

Attempting to trust a previous enemy by tickling him into a giggly puddle is unorthodox, to say the least, but building trust is one of the first steps towards redemption. Charlie can see this vulnerable side of Vox is one that she can take a risk on, one that she has potential to build trust with. For her, they’ve already made a little bit progress. Charlie couldn't be happier. 

But, of course, trust goes both ways, and that includes knowing someone else's limits.

Charlie chuckles. “Okay, let’s let him up,” she moves her hands away from Vox’s sides.

“Aww, already?” Lucifer says and stills his fingers, keeping them hovered near Vox’s underarms.

“Are you sure? I think he can take it,” Vaggi teases.

“Come ohohon!” Vox lets out a residual giggle. “Give me a break already!”

“No no, he’s had enough for now,” Charlie kindly responds and gets off of Vox’s legs. “Let’s not go overboard.”

“Alright, if we must,” Lucifer playfully complies.

Both Lucifer and Vaggie pull back, allowing Vox to curl himself into a ball with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms huddled close. He recovers his breath, letting out leftover giggles that he no longer has a reason for containing as he exhales.

As his giggles start to fade, Charlie leans into his view. “Sooo, how do you feel?”

“Like I have electricity still surging through my veins…” Vox grumbles.

“Eh, it’ll pass,” Lucifer grins at him. Vox rolls his eyes and sits up. Charlie reaches out a hand to help. 

Vox looks at her hand and then at her. Charlie looks back at him with a soft, kindhearted smile and bright eyes that welcome him. Vox glances at her hand again. He takes it.

Charlie helps him on his feet. Once Vox regains his footing, he brushes off his vest and fixes his bowtie like he had just walked in untouched through the doors.

Vox speaks, “So, after that…humiliating display… do you trust me now?”

Before Vaggi and Lucifer can reply, Charlie speaks first.

“I do,” she says. “It’s going to take a while for any of us to fully trust you, but for now…” Charlie warmly smiles at him, “It’s a start.”

Vaggi crosses her arms and gives Vox a stern glare, “But we’re still going to keep our eyes on you.”

Lucifer walks to Charlie’s side and gently lays a hand on her shoulder. “Charlie, are you sure about this?” Lucifer softly asks. 

Charlie nods. “I’m sure. I know we’ve had our… major differences in the past, but if there’s one thing that the Hazbin Hotel was made for, it’s for second chances. I think we can give him a second chance.” Charlie turns to Vox with an enthusiastic smile. “So, come on Vox. Let’s get you a room.”

Vox blinks and his eyes soften at her response. Charlie marches towards the front desk with a pep in her step and waves Vox over. Vox follows shortly after.

Charlie knows that it’s going to be a lot of trial and error, and the occasional disagreement having Vox here as a guest at the hotel, but as she checks him in, she’s hopeful. She can hear what he’s thinking simply from looking at his softer expression: “Maybe this redemption thing won’t be so bad after all.”

[taurulee]

A Demon Undone

Hi all! I’m super late with this I know, but it’s finally finished!

Warnings: this is an sfw tickle fic with some lightly implied RadioApple. LOTS of teasing! Probably a bit too much, but if you like anticipation this is for you! Lucifer really earns his name as the king of hell, hooo boy.

Word count: 4600 (buckle up! It’s a long one!)

It started, like most of their days, with bickering.

Lucifer sat regally on the sofa in the parlor lounge of the Hazbin Hotel, legs crossed and goblet in hand, exuding calm superiority.

“You’ve gone and scared another client off the premises,” he drawled lazily, not looking up from his wine. “Tell me, was your goal to exorcise them through sheer obnoxiousness, or was it just a happy accident?”

Across the room, Alastor adjusted the dial on his antique microphone, pointed teeth gleaming through his grin. “They were annoying. And slovenly. I did the hotel a favor, you’re welcome.”

“Oh yes,” Lucifer scoffed. “By all means, continue undermining my daughter’s dream with your charming homicidal tendencies.”

The two stared each other down like the air itself had dared to offend them. Charlie had made very specific rules; no bodily harm, no threats of violence, and, most critically, no reality-warping duels inside hotel walls. And yet here they were, toeing every line.

Alastor opened his mouth to respond, but Lucifer cut him off before he could even get a word out.

“You do know what shutting the fuck up is, yes?” Lucifer sipped his wine with an exaggerated sigh.

Alastor tilted his head, grin widening. “Coming from you? One would think your highness would hold some semblance of integrity.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched, eyes red as he jumped to his feet, chest flaring. “You insolent little-“

“Guys.”

Charlie’s voice chimed from down the hall. “Be nice. No violence, remember? I need everyone making an effort to get along here.”

Lucifer plastered on an innocent smile. “Of course, my dear. Just having a spirited discussion with my good friend Al, here.”

Alastor waved, far too innocently, the slight irritated twitch of his eye his only give away. “Just enlightening your father on the joys of radio etiquette.”

Charlie groaned audibly and walked off.

Alastor turned back to Lucifer. “You heard the princess. No violence.”

Lucifer grinned, sucking air through his teeth with a barely withheld sneer.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”

He stood, polished and precise, brushing a speck of dust from his vest. “But Charlie never said anything about shutting you up.”

Before Alastor could react, the world blinked out.

They reappeared in a flash of white light, crackling energy humming against the crimson marble floor of Lucifer’s personal tower suite. The doors slammed shut behind them.

Alastor snarled and spun, his cane raised.

“I will not tolerate-!”

His words died in his throat when celestial restraints burst from thin air, golden cuffs locking around his wrists mid-motion and yanking his arms over his head. He stumbled, thrown off-balance, and his knees hit the floor with a thud. He gasped sharply as he felt cuffs loop around his ankles, keeping them locked to the ground.

“What is the meaning of this!?” he hissed, trying to phase through the bindings, only to find them maddeningly resistant to his usual power.

Lucifer approached, eyes glowing a soft, dangerous red. “A lesson, dear Bambi.”

Alastor bared his fangs, fur bristling, voice crackling. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh I will,” Lucifer purred. “Because it’s adorable. And you have gotten far too comfortable speaking to your king like an equal.”

“If you wish to be treated like royalty perhaps you should act like it.” The overlord spat.

Lucifer didn’t react to the disrespectful retort this time, crouching slowly to come face to face with Alastor’s kneeling form, though it wasn’t by much due to the sheer difference in height between the two.

Alastor met his gaze, unrelenting in the fury that blazed within his eyes.

Lucifer smirked, his face so close to Alastor’s he could almost feel the rageful heat radiating from his face. “You’re not in the position to be talking back, little fawn.”

Lucifer hadn’t intended to touch him, not really.

The plan had been simple: trap the Radio Demon in silence. Lock him in the tower with his own endless thoughts, away from Charlie, away from the staff, away from Lucifer. For once, a few hours of peace in the hotel without that grating, incessant voice chewing through every conversation like static on a wire. He’d let him go…eventually.

Alastor was still on his knees, wrists bound high above his head by golden celestial cuffs that shimmered and pulsed with divine energy. He scowled at the opulent room around him.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your petty little display of dominance,” he spat, “because once I’m free-”

Lucifer sighed dramatically, absentmindedly inspecting his fingernails. “You won’t be. Not for a while.”

He walked a lazy circle around the demon, hands clasped behind his back. “You see, bellhop, the very sound of your voice is like a fork scraping glass. And since Charlie won’t let me maim you…”

He circled back to Alastor’s front now, leaning down again to meet him there, punctuating his words with sharp pokes to Alastor’s chest.

“I’ve—had—enough—of you—talking.”

The last jab landed a little lower than the others, right against Alastor’s sternum, and that was when it happened.

The flinch. It was minuscule, barely a twitch really.

But to Lucifer?

Obvious.

He paused, one brow lifting with interest. Alastor’s face was already tightening, going carefully blank as though to pretend it hadn’t happened at all. But it had. And Lucifer had seen it.

“Well, well…” he mused.

Alastor’s glare sharpened. “What?”

Lucifer said nothing. Just smiled. That infuriating, cocky smile.

Without a word, he stepped behind the kneeling demon, slow and deliberate. Alastor’s posture stiffened.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice now edged with something beyond his rageful snarl, something more raw.

Lucifer didn’t answer. He simply stood behind him, letting the silence stretch long and taut like a string about to snap.

Then- lightly, almost thoughtfully- he placed his fingertips against Alastor’s sides.

Not moving, not prodding, just resting them there. Barely any pressure. Alastor froze.

The tension in his shoulders was immediate. His breath hitched, and he held perfectly still, spine rigid.

A devious grin curled its way along Lucifer’s face. Oh, this was far more effective than expected.

“Is something the matter, Bambi?” he purred near his ear, letting the nickname slither through the air like smoke.

Alastor didn’t answer. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.

Lucifer didn’t move his hands yet. But the lack of motion was the worst part. Every breath, every micro-shift in Alastor’s body threatened to cause a ghost of a twitch from those poised fingers, and he knew it.

Lucifer’s voice dropped into a whisper. “You flinched.”

“No, I did not,” Alastor muttered, a little too fast.

“Oh, but you did.” Lucifer let his fingers flex the tiniest bit, barely enough to count. But it sent a tremor through the demon’s abdomen.

“You are,” Lucifer started, amused wonder in his voice as he paused between words, “sensitive, I take it?”

Alastor growled low in his throat. “This is juvenile. You-“

“You’re nervous.” Lucifer leaned close, breath brushing Alastor’s ear and causing it to twitch. “Which means this is going to be fun.”

Alastor’s entire body tensed like a coiled spring.

The weight of Lucifer’s fingers hadn’t changed, still feather-light against the overlord’s body.

Lucifer let the silence hang for a few excruciating beats, just breathing steadily behind him, his presence commanding and smug and infuriating. Then, ever so softly, he whispered, “You’re practically vibrating, little buck.”

“I am not,” Alastor snapped through clenched teeth. His tone thickened with effort, voice like glass cracking under strain. “Get your filthy hands off me.”

Lucifer chuckled a deep, indulgent hum that rattled straight down Alastor’s spine.

“Oh, no. No, no, I don’t think I will. I think I’ve just discovered something precious, and I’m not the type to waste an opportunity when it lands in my lap.”

He gave one finger the slightest twitch. Just one.

Alastor inhaled sharply, the sound thin and ragged. He kept his expression hard, but a bead of sweat rolled near his brow.

“This is beneath you,” Alastor hissed. “A cheap trick. You’re the King of Hell, not a petulant schoolgirl—”

“Oho, is that your angle?” Lucifer laughed, slipping a hand down to rest just at the curve of Alastor’s waist. His fingers were splayed lazily, not yet moving. “Trying to shame me out of it? Sweetheart, I’m the devil. Shame isn’t really in my wheelhouse.”

He leaned in close again, and this time, his voice was syrupy with threat. “And Charlie said no violence. But she didn’t say a word about this.”

Alastor turned his head just enough to glare at him, eyes narrow and dark. “You’re delusional.”

Lucifer chuckled in amusement, his breath against the back of Alastor’s neck making his fur prickle with goosebumps. “You really hate my guts, don’t you?”

“Passionately.”

Lucifer clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment. “Such a shame. After all the grace I’ve given you.”

Without warning, he let his fingers barely flutter against Alastor’s sides.

Soft, hardly there, but enough to remind the demon how perilously close he was to total humiliation.

Alastor twitched. His whole torso jumped a centimetre forward, restrained only by the cuffs above.

Lucifer chuckled slyly, and in a teasing voice sang, “You’re trembliiiing.”

Alastor growled low in his throat. “Release me. Now.” His voice was raspy, broken and pitched up, and if he listened closely, Lucifer could hear the smile on his lips, which the king of hell found especially interesting. The radio demon was never without a smile, but this was different, to hear it this way through his voice, almost as though it was more raw, real.

Lucifer trailed a finger in a slow, lazy arc just below his ribs, a ghost of a touch. “Say please.”

Alastor’s breath hitched again, another giveaway, another tiny thread of composure unraveling.

“The radio demon does not beg,” he spat.

“No? You sure?” Lucifer crooned. He danced a fingertip in a slow circle around Alastor’s side, just light enough to make the muscle twitch beneath it. “You’ve got that ‘barely holding it together’ vibe. Very overlord-in-distress.”

Alastor flinched again, his face darkening. His lips were pressed tight, like holding back a damful of water behind cracking concrete. His ears twitched. His jaw was clenched so hard it might shatter, and his usual smug grin had abandoned him, something more unrestrained in its place.

“Ticklish little fawn,” Lucifer cooed softly. “All that power, all that pomp. And one well-placed touch and you’re already squirming.” The king stepped around to face alastor again, fingers not leaving their place on his sides.

“I’m not—squirming.” The word sounded like poison on Alastor’s tongue.

Lucifer’s voice dropped again, sweet and dripping with honey. “You’re blushing.”

Alastor turned his head away sharply. “It’s the lighting.”

Lucifer snorted. “Oh, I’m sure it is.”

He let his fingers drift down toward the softest part of Alastor’s belly, stilling them there. Not moving yet, but the threat hung in the air like static before a storm.

“I wonder,” Lucifer murmured, “how long you would last if I really tried. I’ve barely touched you.”

“F-fuck you!” Alastor’s breathing was faster now- still controlled, but uneven. The cuffed position left him completely open, completely vulnerable, and Lucifer hadn’t even begun.

Lucifer smirked. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

And with that, he let his thumbs give the barest stroke along the curve of Alastor’s ribs- soft, slow, and so light it almost shouldn’t have registered aside from the pressure of his nails against the delicate bones.

But it did.

Alastor made a sound- half gasp, half growl. His back arched a fraction of an inch before he stiffened up again, pressing his knees into the marble floor, as if grounding himself would help somehow.

Lucifer’s grin was positively devious. “So, not ticklish, hmm?”

“Go to hell.”

“I built it.”

Lucifer didn’t relent.

His fingers, still dancing just over Alastor’s clothes, pressed with a growing boldness now; softly stroking at his sides, lightly tapping along his ribs, and occasionally letting his thumbs draw slow, lazy circles against the soft fabric of his waistcoat. Nothing direct, nothing skin-on-skin. But it didn’t matter. Alastor was already feeling the effects deep in his gut.

And Lucifer knew it.

“You’re doing wonderfully, by the way,” he said smoothly, as though praising a child for good behavior. “Your composure is truly impressive. I would’ve cracked already, if I were a lesser king.”

Alastor’s jaw clenched tighter, nearly aching. His fists were still tight, shoulders locked, but the cracks were starting to show. His breath was just a touch too fast. His spine arched just slightly away from Lucifer’s hand every time he grazed too close to a sensitive spot. And most delicious of all: his silence was growing tense, strained.

Lucifer’s smirk sharpened.

“Still haven’t answered my question. ” he sang, his fingers now skimming along Alastor’s lower ribs with deliberate precision. “You’re holding up so well. But I do wonder… if you’re not ticklish, why is your heart pounding like a trapped rabbit’s?”

“I am not—” Alastor snapped, before catching himself, grinding his teeth together and looking away with fury burning in his eyes.

Lucifer only chuckled. “Ah. So we’re continuing with denial.”

He moved behind Alastor again, slow and purposeful, fingers never leaving him. One hand rested gently at his waist, the other now tracing the soft spaces between his ribs, testing pressure and rhythm like a pianist searching for the right key. Alastor barely suppressed a jolt when Lucifer hit a particularly vulnerable angle, just beneath the edge of his ribcage, where the fabric of his vest was thinner, less structured.

“I think we’re getting close to something interesting,” Lucifer murmured, pulling his hands away. “But maybe I’m being too polite. Perhaps your pride needs a firmer push.” With that, Alastor’s coat and vest vanished, leaving his dress shirt as the only remaining barrier.

Alastor snarled, eyes blazing. “You think this will win you anything?”

“I’m not trying to win,” Lucifer replied easily, stepping forward. “I’m just reminding you of your place.”

He placed both hands firmly on Alastor’s sides now, fingers splayed across his ribs through his shirt. He gave a slow, experimental squeeze, pressing deeper than all his previous touches had.

Alastor jolted like he’d been electrocuted.

Lucifer’s grin widened, pupils blown like a shark sensing blood.

“Well now. That was a reaction.”

“You will regret this,” Alastor growled, voice ragged around the edge, pitched higher than it was just moments ago.

Lucifer only tilted his head, amused. “Eh, maybe. But I’ll enjoy it first.”

With wicked patience, Lucifer began to explore Alastor’s ribs again in earnest- light prodding, circular rubs, sudden jabs- all still over the shirt, but expertly placed. It was maddening. Every touch seemed to find a pressure point Alastor didn’t know he had. His whole torso was tense, back slightly arched, head turned away in desperate concentration.

But Lucifer didn’t need to see his face to know he was losing control.

He could feel it. The twitching. The trembling. He leaned in again, his voice velvety with taunt.

“You know what I love about this?” he whispered near Alastor’s ear. “You still think you have the upper hand. You’re still pretending you can handle me.”

Alastor didn’t respond.

Because if he did, he might laugh.

Lucifer smirked.

“Let’s ruin that little fantasy.”

With a casual snap of his fingers, Alastor’s dress shirt vanished in a puff of golden smoke, like the coat before it, leaving behind the soft curve of furred skin and faint, fawn-like spotting that began where the fur darkened on his sides, curling around to his back. Lucifer took a moment, just a moment, to appreciate the sight. If the radio demon felt exposed before, it was nothing quite like this.

“Adorable,” Lucifer cooed with venomous delight. “No wonder you keep this hidden. All those pointy teeth, that smug grin- and underneath it all, you’re just a sweet little forest creature.”

Alastor snarled, cheeks now burning a dark red. “Would you just shut up-”

Lucifer didn’t even wait for him to finish.

He placed his fingers gently on either side of Alastor’s now-exposed ribs, just the pads of his thumbs, resting right on the soft, vulnerable dip under the lowest rib. He didn’t move them. Just stayed there. Still.

Alastor stiffened as much as he could, wide, furious eyes and an internal storm of panic.

Lucifer leaned in, savoring the moment.

“I could break you with two fingers right now.”

Alastor remained silent, but his lips trembled. His jaw clenched tighter than ever, and a soft, involuntary twitch rippled down his side as Lucifer applied the faintest pressure. Still not moving. Not yet. And the worst part was, Alastor wanted to laugh. Laughter was begging, pleading with his body for release. But he couldn’t. He could not stomach the thought of Lucifer’s satisfaction, the humiliation.

Lucifer smiled.

“I wonder… how long you’ll last, now that there’s nothing between us.”

A deep, ragged inhale from Alastor fuelled the fire further within Lucifer.

And as he began to trace a circle, just one, around the bare fur of Alastor’s side-

The Radio Demon bit his lip, the corners of his mouth twitching further upwards.

Lucifer didn’t move fast.

He didn’t need to.

His fingers skimmed across the short, velvet-soft fur along Alastor’s bare ribs with maddening patience—just enough pressure to keep the nerves lit up like wires beneath the skin. He didn’t tickle, not exactly. It was worse than that. It was anticipation, dragged out into something more unbearable, and Alastor found himself wishing the king would just get it over with instead of holding him here in this uncertainty.

“Still holding strong?” Lucifer asked sweetly, his tone smooth, smug and silky.

Alastor didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

His lips were pursed so tightly they were nearly white. His whole body was trembling in his restraints, like a violin string pulled taut. His soft fur bristled, his chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow gasps.

Lucifer tilted his head. “Hm. No comeback? I was almost starting to enjoy our little debates.”

Still no answer.

But when Lucifer’s thumb gently stroked under the edge of his ribcage, just once, the edge of his nail gently scraping the lowest rib, Alastor gave a sudden, helpless hiccup of breath.

Lucifer grinned, slow and wide.

“There it is.”

Alastor immediately growled, low and foreboding, forcing his expression back to a mask of fury. But Lucifer had caught it. That moment. And he was not going to let it go.

Lucifer lightly fluttered his fingers for just a beat against Alastor’s side. Breath caught in Alastor’s throat.

A little stammer. A harsh, involuntary huff of air through his nose.

Lucifer’s grin widened to something absolutely devious. “Sorry, what was that?”

Alastor glared at the ground, fuming, his mouth still clamped shut. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, his ears pressed tight to his skull in humiliation.

Lucifer leaned closer, voice a whisper against his neck. “Was that a giggle, Bambi?”

Alastor jerked at the nickname—an instant, furious flinch that made his sides tense—and Lucifer took advantage, letting both hands slide firmly around his bare ribs and squeeze, just once, quick and sharp.

“hh-hf —!”

Alastor’s head snapped down, still biting hard on his lip.

Too late.

Lucifer heard it. Felt it.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Another squeeze. This time slower, fingers digging gently between each rib.

Alastor gave a wheezy gasp and a stuttered, “d-don’t—!” before falling silent again, muscles shaking with effort.

“Don’t what?” Lucifer purred.

Alastor growled, low in his throat. Though, to Lucifer, it would be described as much closer to a desperate whine.

“I wonder,” Lucifer murmured, trailing two fingers in a lazy figure-eight over Alastor’s sides, “how much longer you can keep that in. This act. This is very… dignified of you.”

Alastor clenched his teeth again , his entire body rigid with effort. His ribs twitched beneath Lucifer’s fingers, responding involuntarily to the maddening softness of the touch.

He could feel the heat in his face rising sharply—his blush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, and down the back of his neck like wildfire. He knew he must look ridiculous. His nose crinkled. His jaw was locked tight. His tail was twitching erratically behind him in barely-contained panic.

Not here. Not in front of him.

“I know you’re not laughing,” Lucifer continued smoothly, brushing a fingertip along the lower swell of Alastor’s side, where the fur was softer—embarrassingly reactive, “but you’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it.”

He was.

Alastor hated how right he was.

Alastor scowled, his teeth bared now, but his face—oh, his face was burning. He was glowing red all the way down his chest, the blush utterly betraying him. His body was twitching in tiny spasms, no matter how still he tried to remain.

He was falling apart.

“hh-he—!”

Lucifer laughed triumphantly. “Now we’re getting somewhere!”

Alastor gave a wheezy gasp, teeth still gritted.

“D-don’t—!” His voice cracked.

The muscles in his kneeling legs were trembling, and despite the red-hot rage in his chest, he couldn’t stop the shudder that tore through him.

Lucifer chuckled, wicked and sweet. “Oh come on, just let it out. You know you want to.”

His thumbs brushed gentle, fluttering circles just under his ribcage—soft and agonizing . It was unbearable.

A soft, high-pitched titter escaped before Alastor could clamp down on it.

No. No no no—

His heart slammed against his ribs, horrified. He could feel the laughter rising, pressing up into his throat like it was boiling over. His blush deepened—how was that even possible? He was sizzling.

Lucifer looked positively gleeful. “Oh. Oh. That’s precious.”

“Stop—” Alastor tried, but it came out strangled.

His entire body was shaking with the effort to remain composed. He was a breath away from collapse. His pride screamed. He was the one who broke others. He did not get reduced to a trembling, twitching mess.

Lucifer let him sit in that silence—hovering, poised, watching.

“You’re trying so hard not to laugh,” he murmured. “You’ve got that whole overlord reputation to protect. But here you are. Quivering like a scared fawn, ears pinned back, blushing so sweetly.”

Alastor snarled through his teeth again. His ears were so flat now they nearly disappeared into his hair.

His mind was spinning so fast, he was completely unprepared for Lucifer’s next move.

Both hands dove under Alastor’s arms from behind, latching onto his ribs, squeezing and vibrating fingertips in deep, wicked pressure.

Alastor broke.

“—p-Phfff—! N-Nohohoho—!”

No, he exploded.

Squeaky, frantic giggles burst out of him like a dam breaking.

He folded forward in the restraints, shoulders trembling violently as the laughter overwhelmed him.

“Pffhehehehehe—aAHAHA–! NO! HA–h-hold on–! You basta–AHAHA!”

Lucifer howled with joy.

“There it is! I can’t believe you thought you’d ever be able to hold out on me.”

Alastor was wrecked. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t think. His mind was a haze of horror and helplessness.

His chest burned. His face was on fire. His laugh spiraled upward into frantic, hiccupy bursts, broken and wild and nothing like the composed, elegant, terrifying image he clung to.

He hated it.

He hated how good it felt to let go.

Suddenly, lucifer was in front of him again, not wanting to miss another moment of Alastor’s wild smile. The demon was always smiling, but this was different. It was so…untethered. His hands slid lower.

Alastor knew, with the last thread of dignity he had left, that he was completely at the King’s mercy.

Lucifer’s grin widened when his fingers reached their final destination—the center of Alastor’s torment.

That soft, vulnerable, absurdly sensitive belly.

“Ohhh,” he purred, watching Alastor flinch even before he made contact. “Now what do we have here…”

Alastor tensed all over, teeth gritted through the giggles still tumbling out of him in helpless waves. “D-Dohohon’t—HAH!—y-you wouldn’t—!”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, scanning Alastor’s kneeling form. The way he had resolved to going slack in his restraints, head flopped forward in a last ditch effort to hide his flushed face. The trembling pale fur along his belly and sides—quivering, drawn tight with nerves, absolutely begging for attention.

“Hmm,” Lucifer murmured, cocking his head. “You didn’t say ‘can’t.’ You said wouldn’t. What a funny choice of words.”

Alastor’s eyes blew wide. “D-Don’t you dare—”

Lucifer gently wiggled his fingers just above the exposed skin, slowly bringing them closer to their destination. Alastor nearly stopped breathing altogether, whiny giggles tumbling from his lips, shoulders tight, every single nerve in his body screaming at him to brace.

“You’re already laughing,” Lucifer observed softly. “And I haven’t even touched your belly yet. What’s got you so nervous, little deer?”

He waited.

Waited.

Alastor made the mistake of shifting—just an inch—and Lucifer pounced.

Ten fingers descended like lightning, scribbling up and down the plush fur of Alastor’s stomach in erratic, devastating zigzags. He didn’t give him a moment to recover—each flick and scritch was purposefully uneven, unpredictable, keeping Alastor’s nerves overloaded and confused.

“NAHAHAHAHA—! LUHUHUHUHUCIFER—!!”

“Oh yes,” Lucifer breathed, positively delighted. “There it is. There’s the sound I wanted to hear.”

Alastor lost it.

He thrashed in his restraints, but they held firm, his knees trembling against the floor. His body shook with overstimulation, laughter pouring from him in high-pitched bursts, interrupted only by gasps and the occasional shriek when Lucifer zeroed in on a particularly brutal spot just above his hips.

“G-Get your h-haHAHANDS—! OFF—AHAHA—YOU SADISTIC—!!”

“Ah ah,” Lucifer scolded, brushing his thumbs in slow, lazy spirals around the shallow dip of Alastor’s bellybutton. “Charlie said no hurting each other, remember? This isn’t hurting. This is… correcting.”

“Y-YOU’RE DEAD—AHAHAHAHA!!—DEAD WHEN I GET OUT OF—!!”

Lucifer just clicked his tongue, his smile growing somehow even more smug.

“Oh? Is that a threat? I wouldn’t do that if I were your position right now.”

Alastor wheezed, red-faced and blinking back tears, laughter breaking into desperate little hiccups. Lucifer gave him a moment—just a moment—his fingers still resting wickedly over his belly. Alastor drew in three ragged, giggly breaths.

And then he dug in again, this time with rapid, focused scribbles across his lowest ribs, and Alastor squealed.

A high, undignified sound ripped from his throat as he threw his head back, laughter spilling out uncontained, pure and raw and broken.

“NOHOHOHO—STOHOP—THAHAHAT’S—THAHAHAT’S NOT F-FAIR—!!”

“Oh sweetheart,” Lucifer crooned, his voice practically a purr. “You thought this was ever going to be fair?”

He leaned down, lips nearly brushing Alastor’s ear.

“You ticklish little thing. If anyone finds out about this—well. I’m sure your reputation will never recover.”

Alastor hiccuped. “I—I’ll—I’ll rip yoHOHOU l-limb from liHIHIHIMB—!!”

Lucifer gave his ribs one last, devilishly calculated bout of pinches, fingers zeroing in on the soft flesh between them.

Alastor’s laugh shot up an octave, wild and unrestrained, as he sagged entirely in the binds, all his fight gone, reduced to nothing more than a flushed, breathless, giggling mess.

Lucifer finally relented.

His fingers stilled, drifting lightly off the trembling curve of Alastor’s belly, admiring his handiwork. The deer demon nothing like his usual composed image before—ears drooped, hair disheveled, fur tousled, cheeks cherry-red, chest rising and falling with every ragged breath. Lucifer chose to ignore the warmth that spread within his chest at the way Alastor smiled, bright and wide, so different from the one he normally wore.

And—most satisfying of all—he was silent.

“Not so chatty now, are we?” Lucifer said, mock-gently, brushing a thumb over Alastor’s shoulder like he was petting something fragile. “You should thank me. You’ve been begging for someone to knock you off that high horse since the day you arrived.”

Alastor didn’t speak.

Couldn’t speak.

Just glared, panting, still trembling from the aftermath. Still giggling.

Lucifer stepped back, smug and slow, and let the bindings begin to fade.

“You’ll be free in 10 minutes,” he said casually. “I’m off to enjoy the silence now. Do let me know when you’re ready to behave.”

He paused in the doorway, glancing back with one last smirk.

“And don’t worry, Bambi…your secret’s safe with me.”

He winked.

“For now.”

[theanonemu]

Literal seconds before: Alastor: *Smugly rests right arm on Luci's head to emphasize size difference* Luci: *Seizes offending arm and begins to grow*

Sixth attack for @tickleartfight against @cawhawhaw! Ain't no way I was gonna pass up on an opportunity to draw Hazbin tickles!