#ticklishashell posts

[ticklishashell]

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.

[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.

[ticklishashell]

The “that tickles” line followed immediately by “oooh, that’s a bad tickle” just confirmed two things; one, LUCIFER IS CANONICALLY TICKLISH!

And two? The fact that there is a “bad tickle” implies there’s a good kind. HE FUCKING LIKES IT IN CANON?!

We are being fed this season.

[ticklishashell]

Power Source || 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic

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.

"Do your worst."

"Oh, I intend to..."

[ticklishashell]

Use Your Words || ‘Hazbin Hotel’ Tickle Fic

Summary: Lucifer has decided being a brat is more effective than outright asking for what he wants; Alastor makes him see the error of his way.

A/N: This is part of a trade I did with @fallofsirius. It's not as long as I would have liked, but I'm still working on getting back into a writing headspace after all of the shit that went down last month. I hope you enjoy and thank you SO MUCH for all your patience!

Word Count: 1, 767 words.

In the beginning, Alastor couldn't STAND Lucifer Morningstar.

Now, this hardly came as a surprise to anyone that knew him. The king was known for his attention-seeking tendencies, constantly shoving himself into others' business (especially when said business regarded his precious daughter). From day one, the man had been a thorn in Alastor's side, yet another hurdle he needed to face to claw his way to the top. But then, the unthinkable had happened...

They had developed a fondness for one another.

It was hardly intentional, of course. The two were constantly at each other's throats, making jeering comments, one-upping each other in the pettiest of ways. It was, as Angel had so gracefully put it, a "dick-measuring content."

And yet, as time went on, the mood had slowly shifted. Words once filled with detest morphed into mere annoyance, then amusement, then FONDNESS. It was mortifying, to say the least, when the reality finally set in. When the two came to the conclusion that, like it or not, they had become FRIENDS over the last several months.

This, of course, sent both demon spiraling into denial. Avoiding one another like the plague, refusing to even mention each other by name, lest one of those pesky little smiles tug at their lips (or, in Alastor's case, one beyond his control). For a month, it was near impossible to get them in the same room.

But, as expected, this didn't last. It seemed that, without the other in their lives, both men grew exceedingly bored (it most CERTAINLY wasn't because they missed each other; what a concept). By the time the month was out, they were butting heads once again, albeit far less aggressively than before.

Soon, the bickering morphed into heated discussions on literature, which instrument was superior, which drink was best. This, in turn, lead to late nights at the bar, cheeks flushed and well-past the point of mere tipsiness.

When they finally sealed the deal with that first drunken kiss, Angel happily accepted his payment from Husk, and things had felt a little lighter around the hotel ever since.

That being said, there were still plenty of things about the Morningstar that infuriated Alastor, even after they became paramours (the radio host refused to used the word boyfriends; it felt far too casual and modern for his tastes). The king's tidiness, for example, or lack thereof, or how Lucifer tended to cut him off mid-sentence when he got too excited.

The most annoying of all, however, was the way the blonde absolutely REFUSED to just ASK for the things he wanted.

'That would be too simple, I suppose. He just has to make things as difficult as possible.' Alastor thought, ear flicking in irritation as he listened to yet another melodramatic sigh from Lucifer, loud and obnoxious and screaming for attention.

The radio host had been trying to get through his paperwork for the better part of an hour, dozens of pages scattering his desk in need of careful reading, signing and/or mailing. But between the constant stream of noises, questions, pokes, and prods, his focus had become completely fried.

No, all his brain could focus on now was the little pest draping himself across the back of Alastor's chair.

Suddenly, the room went dead silent. Alastor’s pen paused mid-signature, ears perking up. He felt the weight on the back of his chair shifting ever so slightly, and his smile widened ever so slightly. Ah, had his majesty finally grown bored by his lack of reaction?

Another sigh, long, theatrical, and entirely too close to his ear.

His eye twitched.

“Lucifer.” Alastor began pleasantly, voice crackling with the familiar sound of static. "Are you experiencing respiratory distress? Should I summon a physician? A priest? A muzzle?”

The king gasped softly. “Wow, concern! I’m touched.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “You are testing me today, a decision I would not deem wise.”

Lucifer shifted once more, arms now draped over the back of the chair, chin resting on the other's shoulder. “I don’t know what you mean.” He replied, forked tongue sticking out as he poked Alastor's rib, earning a small flinch.

The radio host set the pen down with a slow, exaggerated care. The lights of the study flickered, dimming slightly before returning to their warm, comforting glow.

“Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Yes, darling?”

The pet name was sweet. Too sweet.

Alastor turned his head slowly, smile now sharp and immaculate. “What, precisely, do you think you are doing?”

Lucifer blinked at him, his grin half-nervous, half-mischievous. “Uhuhum...existing?”

“Incorrect.” The shadows behind the desk coiled lazily. Deliberate, vaguely threatening in their movements. A warning. “You have sighed nineteen times in the last half hour. You have interrupted me thrice. You have poked my cheek for times." His eyes narrowed slightly.

Lucifer had the decency to look almost sheepish. “I have no idea what you’re getting at.” He said airily, though his wings gave a small, betraying twitch.

Alastor stood.

Lucifer barely had time to squeak before hands found his shoulders, spinning him around. The fallen seraphim stared owlishly up at the taller man, back now pressed against the desk as Alastor loomed comfortably between his legs.

That ever-present grin widened.

“You truly expect me to believe you’re simply…loitering?” Alastor raised a brow, gazing down at his prey like a cat appraising a corner mouse.

“I can loiter if I want to!” Lucifer huffed, crossing his arms. “I’m the king.”

“Mm, yes. What a convincing argument." The redhead rolled his eyes, clearly not buying the king's words for a second. Alastor slowly brought a hand up, claws hovering near Lucifer’s side, not yet touching.

The fallen seraphim inhaled sharply, flinching ever so slightly.

Ah, there it was.

Alastor barked out a laugh. "Oh, your majesty. This really is too much, even for you!" He crowed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Still wanting to be stubborn, was he? Alastor had a swift remedy for that. "Oh? Then you won’t mind if I resume my paperwork and leave you to your dramatic brooding?” He made a show of stepping back, movements deliberately slow, taunting.

Lucifer grabbed his sleeve instantly.

Silence.

Slowly, Alastor looked down at the hand clutching him, grin oozing with amusement. “Care to revise your previous statement?”

The blonde hesitated. "No...” Lucifer mumbled, averting his gaze.

Alastor leaned in again, pushing into the other's space until their foreheads nearly touched. His voice dropped to a warm murmur. “You are the ruler of Hell. The Morningstar. The Lightbringer.” His grin was borderline feral. “And yet you cannot manage three simple words.”

Lucifer flushed faintly, cheeks turning a lovely shade of gold.

Alastor’s fingers ghosted over his side, still not touching, just hovering close enough to make him shiver. "Come now, we both know you can do it. Just three little words, and you can have exactly what you're so desperate for." His words were so smooth, like silk, scarily convincing.

They landed perfectly.

Lucifer’s wings flared in embarrassment, a look of indignation gracing his features. “I am not desperate!” He huffed, blush darkening as he glared up at the sinner.

“No?” Alastor’s claws lightly traced the air just above his ribs. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t react if I...”

Contact. A brief, quick scribble across the bones, so light it barely registered. But oh, how it did the trick.

Lucifer jolted with a sharp inhale, a giggly squeak tumbling out before he could stop it. "E-Ehehehehehehehek! Wahahait!"

Alastor withdrew instantly, another moment of silence following.

Lucifer stared up at him, a look of embarrassment and betrayal plastered to his face. “Y-Yohohohohohou cahahan't just-"

Alastor clasped his hands behind his back. “Oh dear. Was that what you desired? If only you would use your words, I would know whether or not I should continue...”

“You ABSOLUTELY know, you cruel bastard! Come on, you can't just do something like that and-"

“Do I?” Alastor head tilted. “How could I know, if you do not tell me?”

Lucifer’s face felt like it was on fire. He squirmed where he sat, fingers gripping the edge of the desk, nearly leaving claw-marks in the dark wood.

“If you want something from me, your majesty…you will ask for it properly.”

Lucifer opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. He looked like a fish out of water, gaping in utter disbelief.

“I...that's humiliating, I'm not doing it!" He finally stammered out.

“Is it” Alastor hummed. “You had no qualms pestering me like a needy hatchling. How is asking for what you desire like an adult any worse?"

“I am NOT needy!"

Alastor’s hand drifted just close enough to make Lucifer’s breath hitch again, yellow eyes locked onto those claws, unable to look away. “Then prove it. Walk away.” The radio host challenged.

Lucifer didn’t move. Instead, his fingers curled into Alastor’s coat, tugging him closer. The king of Hell swallowed thickly, looking at those claws, the wall, ANYWHERE but Alastor's face.

“Alastor...”

The radio demon waited patiently.

“Could you…” Lucifer’s wings tucked in tight, voice cracking as he finally forced those dreaded words past his lips. “Would you…t-tickle me?”

Alastor blinked, then snorted. “Oh, that was pitiful.”

Lucifer groaned, head thrown back dramatically as he released Alastor's coat to cover his burning face. “I hate you.”

“You adore me.”

“Father in Heaven, Al, just...please? Please.”

The word was barely audible.

Alastor’s grin softened, not mockery now, but satisfaction. “There it is.” He leaned in close, lips brushing Lucifer’s ear. “Good boy.”

And then, he struck.

Ten nimble fingers were immediately dancing along Lucifer’s ribs, squeezing at his sides with a practiced precision.

The blonde shrieked, laughter bursting free in bright, unrestrained peals. "Ohohohoho shihihihihihit! Ahahahahahahalastor!" Lucifer cried out, curling forwards as his hands instinctively latched onto Alastor's arms. Not pushing him away, not fighting back, just holding on for dear life.

“See? Wasn't that much easier than all your incessant pestering?" Alastor chuckled, fingers scribbling up the ribcage before raking back down, stopping to scratch just above the stomach. “You get precisely what you wanted this way.”

Lucifer dissolved into another fit helpless laughter, wings flapping wildly, tail knocking over a stack of neatly organized paperwork. "Yohohou're awful! Nehehehahahahaha! Snnnrk!"

Alastor would deny the fondness in his expression until the day he double-died, would brush off anyone who claimed he enjoyed the seraphim's provocations as much as Lucifer enjoyed his punishments. But to anyone with a functioning pair of eyes, the truth was clear to see.

"Now, how about we give those hips some attention, hm?"

"Nononohohohohoho, dohohohon't you dahahahahare-eeehehahahahahahahahahaha! Snnnnrk, snnnrk!"

[ticklishashell]

Power Play || 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic

Summary: After his battle with Vox, Alastor is left a little worse for wear and needing to blow off some steam. Luckily for him, a prime form of stress relief lives just across the building...

This is technically a sequel to Power Source, but you don't have to have read that fic to understand this one!

Warnings: Adult language, threats of cannibalism, innuendos, descriptions of injuries (including mentions of blood), and Alastor being Alastor.

Word Count: 4,572 words.

The Vees had certainly done a number on Hell.

First of all, the geography of Pride had been greatly changed, falling buildings taking out entire blocks, roads marked with gapping holes and deep cracks, the Extermination tower completely annihilated.

And then there was the political aspects of it all; while Valentino and Velvette had managed to retain some of their power, Vox had completely fallen from Hell's good graces, and it was clear the Vees would never have the stronghold they once did. That could only mean one thing; another power vacuum had opened, and wannabe overlords all around the city were stepping up to try and claim their place amongst the highest demons.

Sure, redemption had been proven possible, but not everyone thought themselves capable of such a thing, more or less were willing to give it a shot. Besides, power vacuums were fleeting things in Hell, and most weren't willing to pass up on the chance to become one of the big dogs NOW just for the POSSIBILITY of redemption in the far-off future.

The ensuing turf wars were brutal, bloody things, immensely entertaining for a while but quickly becoming stale. Alastor had seen it all before, and none of the newcomers showed much promise of being anything other than power-hungry idiots.

Everyone was left more than a little busted up by the battle; Vaggi had a concussion and several cuts that needed tending to, Husk had a burn from his little stunt with the fireballs, that little seraphim had lost a WING. While nobody from the hotel had died this time, thank the Heavens for that, casualties were high, and sinners across Hell were mourning the dead who'd been caught in the crossfire of Alastor and Vox's little tryst.

"Pathetic..." Alastor mumbled, watching as a fish-like sinner collapsed into Charlie's waiting embrace, bawling over how they would have been done for, had the princess not come to their rescue and pulled them out of the way of Vox's malfunctioning contraption. "To put on such a display, and in public no less. Have they no dignity?"

Husk glanced up from his work, cleaning rag still in hand, brows raised. "Come on, Al, cut 'em a break. They nearly got sent to double death just a few days ago." The bartender replied, setting the whisky glass he had been cleaning back on the shelf.

"So did I, but you don't see me groveling and crying at someone's feet now, do you?" Alastor retorted, ear flicking with annoyance.

The deer demon's hand subtly moved to his ribs, rubbing at his aching bones. He had definitely cracked a few ribs, maybe his sternum, too, but his healing factor was slowly patching it all up (one of the few perks of Hell, he supposed). Every so often, if he shifted the wrong way, he could feel blood ooze from the wound on his chest, still raw and tender from Vox tearing out the stitches.

"Yeah, somehow I don't see you goin' up to Heaven to thank that Angel who saved your ass anytime soon." Husk replied.

A low growl tore from Alastor's throat, eyes briefly flashing to radio dials. "Watch it..." He warned, ears pinning back.

Having to be saved by ANYONE was a sore spot for him. While he was once again at full power, he'd still needed that little seraphim (Emily, was it) to help him in the end. Hell, the woman had even lost a limb in the process! Was she just THAT noble, or did she have some ulterior motive?

Alastor hated owing debts, especially a life debt. Those gave people the leverage to ask for nearly anything, and now he owed one to an angel of all beings. The notion filled him with a mixture of frustration and anger.

The overlord downed another Sazerac, his third of the evening, the liquid burning his throat as it went down.

Suddenly, the two were joined by Cherri Bomb, the cyclops sliding onto the barstool next to Alastor with a doopey grin on her face. Clearly, she'd just gotten off the phone with her long-distance lover, and going by the flush on her cheeks, things had gotten rather steamy.

"Fuckin' hell, give me a sour cherry vodka, will ya Whiskers? That damn snake put me through the ringer; who knew that old fuck would be so good at phone sex?" Cherri's eye flicked over to Alastor, her expression changing to a mixture of curiosity and concern. "You feelin' alright, mate? You look like hammered shit, and that ain't normal for you."

"I'll have you know I'm not even tipsy." Alastor snorted, eyes narrowed.

"Fine, ya look like regular shit, then. Maybe you should go lay down or somethin.'"

Fuck her, he was fine, thank you very much! Alastor's eyes scanned the lobby, taking in each new face briefly before moving on. He doubted any of them would be important enough to be memorable, but he was nothing if not observant of his surroundings.

In the sea of faces, a flash of blonde caught his eye. For a moment, he thought it was Charlie again, but this figure was far too short.

No, it was the other Morningstar.

Lucifer was looking far better than he had a few days prior. The various wounds and cuts marring his porcelain skin had completely healed, without so much as a scar remaining. There were still bags under his eyes, symptoms of lack of sleep, if Alastor were to guess, but otherwise the king appeared to be back to normal.

At least, in a physical sense.

Lucifer's behavior, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. The king had always been flighty, prone to disappearing at the drop of a hat, but had still carried some degree of prideful confidence. Now, though? He jumped like a frightened mouse whenever someone so much as brushed against him, eyes wide and limbs twitchy, as if ready to flee at any second.

To most, it would seem like the king had been through the wringer as Vox's prisoner. In a sense, they wouldn't have been wrong, though the precise details of the king's "torture" were so ludicrous no one could have possibly surmised them. But Alastor? He knew better.

Of course he did; even if Vox hadn't come to gloat to him after every "harvesting session," he would have been able to hear the angel's screams of boyish laughter from halfway across the pentagram.

Lucifer Morningstar, the king of Hell, the devil himself, was ticklish. Dreadfully so.

Alastor's perpetual grin curled upwards at the corners, eyes sharpening as he watched his rival duck through the crowd, rambling out apologies as he accidentally bumped into a tree sinner by the staircase. He looked so pathetic; how had Alastor ever been intimidated by him? Sure, he had the power of a god, but what good was power if one was unable to utilize it against one's enemies? Looking at him like this, Lucifer more resembled prey to be hunted, not the feared Father of Lies.

And Alastor was in need of a good hunt right now.

...

Lucifer sighed as he shut his bedroom door behind him, slumping back against the cool wood with relief. Finally, space to breath. He couldn't have been more happy that his daughter's dream was finally becoming a reality; she'd worked so hard for it, fought so hard for it, and he wasn't going to rain on her parade but...damn, he was sick of all the people hanging about.

'I can hardly hear myself think anymore.' He thought, slinking over to his bed and collapsing forward onto the mattress.

In a blink, his royal attire had been exchanged for comfortable loungewear; a large, red oversized sweater and white sweatpants embroidered with little apples. The PJ set had been a gift from Lilith their last Sinsmas together, and he found himself wearing them every other night, even if just to remember the sweet smile on her face as she gave them to him.

Father, he missed her.

The king glanced at the large pile of unfinished rubber ducks heaped next to his bed, debating whether or not to work on them. Usually, he would spend at least three hours a night on them, maybe more if his energy levels allowed for it. But right now? He was so burnout the mere thought made him feel exhausted.

Bed rotting it was, then.

Lucifer rolled onto his back, starring up at the ceiling as he traced the faint scar on the back of his neck. The little mark was the only remaining trace of his...captivity. While all others had healed, for some reason, that first little mark refused to go away completely, Vox's last "fuck you" to the fallen seraphim.

As memories flashed through his mind, Lucifer felt his cheeks grow warm, no doubt tinting a bright gold. He was still mortified at having fallen for such an obvious trap, but more than anything, he was embarrassed by what came afterwards.

"NEHEHEHAHAHAHA! N-NOHOHOHOHOOO, NOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!" "What's the matter, your highness? The hooves a bad spot? It's just one little feather..."

Lucifer's blush grew stronger, creeping down his neck and up to his ears, feeling as though it was about to consume his entire being.

"PLEHEHEHEHEHEEEEA! W-WHATEVER YOU WAHAHAHANT, I'LL GIHIHIHIVE IT TO YOHOHOHOU! MY THROHOHONE, MY PAHAHALACE!" "Why would I want YOUR measly throne when I can seize Heaven's instead? Thanks for the offer, though, Lu."

The blonde's hand moved down, rubbing at his stomach as phantom tickles coursed through his nervous system. His heart was racing, mouth fighting back the urge to grin.

"Look what I found; it's our newest model! Guaranteed to keep your teeth pearly white, at least that's what the commercial says. We're still workshopping that part." "GEHEHEHEHEHET THAHAHAT FUHUHUCKING THING AWAY FROHOHOHOM ME!" "But your highness, we NEED someone to test our latest model! And what could be better than a royal endorsement, am I right?"

That toothbrush had been a worse punishment than anything Heaven could cook up for him. He could still feel it running along his arms, getting closer and closer to his armpits until...

"Why, good evening, your majesty! I see you're already settling in for the evening!"

Lucifer jolted upright, letting out a startled squawk. His eyes darted across the room just in time to see Alastor slipping from the shadows, grin as infuriating as ever.

"What the HELL?!" The blonde yelled, eyes narrowed angrily. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"Of course! But entering this way is FAR more fun!" Alastor replied, grin widening ever so slightly as he strode forward. "My, my, I never expected to see our king in such an adorable getup!"

Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Fuck you, bellhop! Why don't you do us both a favor and go away, yeah? I have IMPORTANT things to do."

The redhead raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know lounging about staring at the ceiling could be considered important. How enlightening." He crooned. "Anyways, I'm here because I'm afraid I'm in need of your services."

The fallen angel let out a loud snort. "You? Need help from ME?" He chortled. "What makes you think I'd do ANYTHING for you after the shit you've pulled! All the blatant disrespect, in front of MY DAUGHTER, no less!" Lucifer shook his head. "You must be an idiot to think-"

"Because it will be mutually beneficial." Alastor cut in, red eyes narrowing to slits at the king's jeering remarks.

That made Lucifer pause. "What could you possibly have to offer me? Besides tacky furnishings and smartass comments."

Alastor took a few more steps forward, absentmindedly fiddling with the microphone at the end of his cane. "I'll scratch your little itch, and you'll provide me with some much needed entertainment." He replied simply.

The king raised a brow. "Excuse me?" He asked incredulously.

"Don't think I haven't noticed your behavior as of late, your majesty. Ever since your little stay with Vox, you've been quite...jumpy. You nearly flew to the ceiling when Charlie brushed against you yesterday morning!"

Alastor stopped at the foot of the bed, gazing down at a still confused Lucifer with mild amusement.

"Most would think you were traumatized, remembering some vile act of torture you'd been subjected to, though in a way I suppose they aren't wrong." Red-tipped claws came down to trail across the king's blankets, feeling the soft, downy comforter. "You were quite the screamer; I could hear you all the way down the hall."

Lucifer stiffened, yellow eyes going wide with realization. "Y-You heard..."

"Yes, yes, I heard EVERYTHING!" Alastor interrupted, waving a hand. "Even if I hadn't, Vox made sure to come and gloat after every session." The radio host barked out a laugh. "He loved telling me how beautifully you broke, how much power he was able to pull from your veins with only a few gentle touches. He was QUITE proud of himself, the showboating bastard."

By now, Lucifer's face burned a bright gold. "Shut up! What the Hell does...THAT have to do with anything?" He asked, voice half embarrassment, half annoyance.

Alastor hummed, grin curling up at the ends to form a devilish smirk. "When I said I heard everything, I meant it. That includes your giggly little remarks to yourself when you thought he was long gone."

"What?! But you weren't even in the room, you couldn't have possibly-"

"Man, that tickled so bad! It would almost be fun, if I wasn't..." Alastor began, before abruptly being cut off by the angel's sputtering cough.

"Alright, alright!" Lucifer groaned, rubbing his face. "I get it, you fucking bastard! Just get to the point already!"

"My point," Alastor learned forwards, ear flicking. "Is that you ENJOY it. Maybe not from Vox, but in general. And ever since your captivity, you've been craving it, haven't you? I would be more than happy to assist with that little problem."

Lucifer cleared his throat. "Even if that WERE true, which it ISN'T!" He started. "Why would I trust YOU? You hate me, and I hate you, in case you've forgotten."

"Mmm, that may be true." The sinner hummed, taking a seat on the mattress. Immediately, Lucifer scooted away, eyeing him warily. "But watching you crumble would make for wonderful entertainment, and I need to blow off some steam this evening."

"Why not just go find someone to bed, then? There's willing participants all over Pride, an overlord like you would have his pick of the litter."

A screech of microphone feedback cut through the air, the painful pitch pulling a wince from Lucifer. "I have no interest in such...activities." Alastor replied, a note of disgust in his tone.

"Not one for sex, I get it! No need to jump my ass." The fallen seraphim grumbled.

Alastor leaned forward, putting himself in the king's space, and Lucifer willed himself not to pull away. "Here is my proposition; you allow me to do so, I will tickle you until you can't think straight. And that longing you've had for the past week? It will be well-satiated, I can promise you that."

Lucifer stared at him, for once at a loss for words. His heart raced at the offer, at the promise they held. "I feel like this is some sort of trap." He said after a moment.

"No traps, I assure you! If you don't believe me, we can shake on it?" Alastor replied, extending his hand. "Make it soul-binding."

The blonde scoffed. "Only fools make deals with the Devil, you know."

"You're stalling, sire."

Lucifer eyed the hand before glancing back up to meet the sinner's piercing gaze. "You JUST tickle me. No eating me, or cutting into me, or anything...weird." He stated firmly.

Alastor rolled his eyes. "I'm not a beast." He replied, almost sounding insulted. "Just tickling, but you will not be able to fight back. I don't fancy getting thrown through a wall this evening."

A mischievous grin came to the king's lips. "I'd pay good money to see that."

"Time is ticking! The offer expires in three, two..."

Lucifer's hand shot forwards, grasping Alastor's firmly. "It's a deal!" He said quickly, eagerly.

A python made from shimmering, golden magic uncoiled from Lucifer's wrist, sliding forwards until it intertwined itself with a green and black tendril immerging from Alastor's. As soon as the two strands wove together, sealing the deal, Lucifer felt his horns poking from his forehead, his wings unfurling and tail lashing as his demonic form immerged.

He glanced up, eyes widening at the sight of Alastor's stitched-on smile and massive antlers staring back at him. The sinner looked more monster than man.

And then, it was over, and with a blink both had returned to their usual appearances. Lucifer stared at their hands for a moment, still clasped together, and felt his heart quicken in realization.

What had he just agreed to?

"There we go, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Alastor purred, hand reaching out to gently push Lucifer onto his back. The blonde fell back against a mountain of cushions and pillows with a small 'oof,' a nervous grin already threatening to spread across his face.

"N-Now Bambi, just because-"

"Too late for begging now, your majesty."

Lucifer flinched as he felt something coiling around his wrists and ankles. His eyes darted around, going wide with shock at the sight of several shadowy tendrils tugging his limbs in different directions, shifting him into an X-position. Immediately, he tried to tug them free, a feat which should have been a piece of cake, only to find he...couldn't. He tried again, and once again, failure.

"Oh, come now, you heard our little deal. You aren't allowed to fight back. That means no breaking free, either." Alastor watched the king struggle, clearly delighted by the display.

Lucifer snarled, head jerking forward, eyes flashing red. "You old-timey bastard! Release me right now or I'll-"

Alastor's claws were suddenly at his sides, curling into the slender muscle before slowly beginning to climb upwards. "You'll do nothing; nothing but lay there and laugh yourself silly."

The fallen angel stiffened, lips slamming shut as the claws slowly, gently worked their way up his ribcage. He bit his lower lip, perhaps a little too hard, as a thin trickle of blood trailed from his mouth. The golden liquid seemed to catch Alastor's attention, gaze taking on an almost hungry look.

"Careful, shed too much of that, and I might just have to eat you after all. It smells delicious..." He purred.

"Fuhuhuck you!" Lucifer retorted, a little chuckle slipping out as those devilish claws found the little sweet spots just below his armpits.

Alastor tutted, shaking his head. "So rude! And here I was, being nice and gentle. But perhaps the king prefers more of a challenge, hm?" He raised a brow, and suddenly, his claws were burrowing into Lucifer's armpits, clawing carefully at the tender flesh.

A startled cry tore from Lucifer's throat, followed by a wave of high-pitched giggling. His arms strained against the restraints, trying desperately to come down, with no luck. Fuck, he should have been more specific about the parameters of the deal. He was the Devil, for Father's sake, he should have KNOWN better than to be so vague! "Shihihihit! G-Gehehehehet ohohohohout of thehehehere!"

"Trying to give orders, are we?" The deer demon snorted. "How precious."

Alastor's thumbs drilled into the centers of the armpits, his other fingers splaying out to attack the rest of the hollows with quick, fluttering touches. The dual technique seemed to be wonderfully effective, going off of the shrill giggles tumbling past the king's lips.

"I swehehehehear, whehehen I get out ohohof thihihihis, I'll mahahahahake yohohou sorry!" Lucifer threatened, though the effect was ruined by the large grin and faint, golden blush decorating his features.

"Sure you will, your royal shortness." Alastor drawled sarcastically, a few shadowy tendrils seeping up from the mattress and waving in the air behind him. "If you're still able to formulate such threats, I must not be doing my job properly. Allow me to amend that."

Before the blonde could respond, the tendrils darted forwards, massaging into Lucifer's sides and ribcage whilst Alastor's claws continued their attack on his armpits.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck!" Lucifer bucked, giggles picking up into boyish laughter. His torso shimmied from side to side, attempting (in vain) to avoid the shadowy appendages. "Thahahahahat's cheheheheheheating!"

"Really? I don't recall us discussing what tools were and were not allowed in our little deal. Perhaps you should have been more specific?" Alastor smirked.

Oooh, that BASTARD! Lucifer's blush grew, a little hiccup interrupting his laughter as Alastor located another sweet spot, this one just above his left hip. He swore, when he got free, he was going to make that mortal feel every second of what he did to him and MORE!

Sure, he had practically asked for this (a fact he was loathe to admit), but the teasing? Completely uncalled for!

Alastor's eyes glanced over the squirming seraphim's torso. "It's a shame Vox spoiled all of your little spots; I would like to have discovered them myself. No matter, at least I have a little map of exactly how to drive you mad, so I suppose it evens out." Red-tipped claws trail down from Lucifer's armpits, briefly raking over the ribs before settling against the blonde's stomach. "Here, for example. Vox claimed this spot had you practically WAILING; shall we see if he was telling the truth?"

Lucifer's eyes went wide as saucers, his head shaking feverishly as his laughter took on a goofy, desperate tone. "FUHUHUCK no! S-Stahahay awahahahay frohohohom thehehehehere!" He retorted.

"Oh, but we simply must test it out! We can't risk leaving such a tantalizing sensitive spot overlooked, now, can we?" Alastor sang, claws drumming against the slender stomach, earning a fresh wave of titters.

Lucifer opened his mouth, as if to protest some more, and Alastor struck. His claws curled into the king's stomach, careful to avoid piercing the skin, and began to vibrate. All words died on Lucifer's lips, overtaken with a startled squeal, followed immediately by a wheezing cackle.

"OHOHO SHIHIHIHIHIHIT! NONONOHOHOHOHOHO, NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!"

Alastor's grin turned borderline feral at the sound. "Begging already? We've only just started. Don't tell me this spot is that sensitive?" He crowed, claws continuing their attack as the tendrils reduced theirs to slow, gentle strokes over the blonde's sides and ribs.

The fallen angel's hips bucked desperately, stomach trying in vain to squirm away. "FUHUHUHUCK YOHOHOHOU! OHOHOHO MY FAHAHAHATHER, IT TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICK-" His words were cut off by a loud snort, followed by another round of hysterical chortles. "IT TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLES!"

"I do believe that is the point, is it not?" Alastor teased, a single claw slowly beginning to circle the king's navel.

The king felt weightless, his head spinning at the rush of sensations flooding his nervous system. Vox's little attacks had been bad, but this? It was almost worse simply because it was ALASTOR doing it! He still couldn't believe he had agreed to this, had allowed himself to be so...vulnerable around a man he couldn't stand.

Was he really that starved for touch? That desperate?

It seemed he was.

Lucifer was jolted from his thoughts by his own startled squeal, feeling more tendrils slinking around his calves, slipping down to flip off his slippers. "DOHOHOHON'T YOHOHOHOU DAHAHAHARE!" He threatened, only to immediately be ignored and thrown into a fresh fit of cackles as they began stroking along the bottoms of his hooves.

"Hm, Vox mentioned the hooves being sensitive. Seems he wasn't just making shit up to gloat about."

Oh, fuck that, two could play at that game. "HEHEHE ALSO MEHEHENTIONED YOHOHOHOURS WERE FEHEHEHEHEATHER TIHIHIHICKLISH! CAHAHARE TO COMMENT, BAHAHAHAMBI?" Lucifer shot back.

For a brief instant, Alastor's features tightened, the ghost of a blush spreading across his cheeks. But in a blink, the sinner schooled his features once more, expression darkening. "Still have a smart mouth, I see. We can fix that."

Lucifer's heart leapt into his throat as Alastor tugged up his sweatshirt, head slowly lowering towards his stomach. "Fuhuhuhuckfuckfuck, nonononohohohohoho! Dohohohon't!" He babbled, shaking his head and sucking in his stomach desperately. He could guess what was coming, and boy, was it going to suck.

Alastor, of course, ignored the blonde's pleas. He huffed just above Lucifer's stomach, the puff of air sending goosebumps racing across his skin, before his teeth started carefully gnawing at the ivory skin beneath them.

Poor Lucifer didn't stand a chance, a screech of laughter ripping from his throat. "NEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! N-NOHOHOHOHOHOOO, NOHOHOHOT THAHAHAHAT! NOHOHOT THAHAHAHAT!" He thrashed as much as the restraints would allow, tears of mirth springing to his eyes.

The overlord hummed against Lucifer's skin, grin widening. He nibbled across the lower tummy, just above the hipbones, before moving up to target the navel specifically, a spot that had his victim wailing with laughter. If Lucifer was this much of a mess now, he could only imagine what he'd looked like when Vox took that damned toothbrush to him (Alastor shuttered; he knew firsthand how hellish it could be).

The fallen angel snorted loudly, a wheezy shriek echoing out as a rush of pleas fell past his lips. "OHOHOHOHO SHIHIHIHIHIT, COHOHOHOHOME ON! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! PLEASEPLEASEPLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!" Notably, not a single stop was uttered, a fact Alastor picked up on. It seemed, despite his protests, Lucifer was indeed enjoying himself.

"You talk so much yet say so little." Alastor replied teasingly, lips still pressed to the angel's skin.

Lucifer flushed. "J-JUHUHUHUHUHUST GOHOHOHO SOHOHOMEWHERE ELSE! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!"

The sinner hummed, as if thinking it over. "Well, since you asked so nicely!" He sat up, only the tendrils at Lucifer's hooves still moving, brushing up and down the cloven hooves at a slow, lazy pace.

Lucifer slumped back against the bed, shaking with pants and breathy giggles. "Ohohoho fuhuhuhuck, thahahahat was ahahahahawful!" He had a wide, dopey grin plastered to his face, hair tussled from struggling.

"I'm glad you think so, because we are far from finished. There are so many spots we still need to test, after all." Alastor replied, eyes flashing. "Vox mentioned how delightfully sensitive that back is of yours, but due to those blessed restraints he used, he never got the chance to test those wings. Shall we amend that, sire?"

Ooh, if Alastor got his hands on those, Lucifer would perish for sure. "Nooohohohoho need!"

"But I insist; we have to be thorough, after all! Let's see if we can...convince them to come out to play, hm?"

Lucifer squealed, back arching as he suddenly felt multiple tendrils poking into his back, seemingly coming from the mattress itself. They drug up and down the base of his spine, willing into the backs of his ribs as they worked their way up towards his shoulder blades, and Lucifer felt a surge of angelic grace welling within him. It was only a matter of time before his wings emerged, desperate to defend their host from the ticklish onslaught, and when they did? He was fucked.

And for some reason, Lucifer found himself looking forward to it, a surge of cocky defiance welling up within him.

"DOHOHOHOHO YOHOHOOUR WOHOHOHORST, MOHOHOHOHORTAL!"

"Oh, I plan on it..."

[ticklishashell]

Laughter Is The Best Medicine || 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic

Summary: Pentious is struggling to adjust to his new life, so Emily enlists Abel and Peter to help put a smile on his face.

Warnings: Some adult language and mild spoilers for season 2, episode 2.

Word Count: 1,765 words.

One thing was certain about Heaven’s newest resident; he wasn’t doing okay.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that. Wherever he went, Pentious had a frown plastered to his face, eyes dulled with sadness. Every so often, he’d try to force a smile, if only to get some well-meaning winner to leave him alone, but he was hardly convincing.

No, he was miserable, that much was obvious.

It broke Emily's heart seeing him like that. As someone who'd never really been outside of Heaven's borders, she wasn't used to seeing such outright displays of sadness and despair. Such things were seemingly non-existent in Heaven; it was supposed to be paradise, after all. What reason could someone have to be sad?

And yet, here was this soul, fresh from Hell and desperately trying to claw his way back down there, as if HEAVEN were the eternal punishment.

Emily watched the serpentine man slump into an armchair, wings drooped and head low as he fiddled with his drink. His eyes shone, wet with barely contained tears, and his frills pressed against his neck like a protective blanket. She’d hoped taking him to Heaven’s most popular milkshake bar would cheer him up a bit, but it seemed this plan had failed as well.

The seraphim let out a small sigh. She’d tried everything should could think of to help Pentious settle in, but all the former sinner seemed to want was to go back to his friends. She would take him to them, if she could, but even Emily wasn’t powerful enough to slip through the shimmering golden barrier now encasing Heaven.

Only the Lord Himself could do that.

“What do we do? Look at him; he looks like a sad puppy on one of those Earth infomercials!” Emily whined, voice hushed. “I’ve taken him to every arcade, cafe, and theater in town, but nothing is working!”

Abel shrugged, humming as Peter carded fingers through his hair. He had his head laid in the saint’s lap, body flung lazily across the sofa as if he were in his own home. “Don’t know what to tell you, Em. The guy might just be beyond help.”

Emily gasped. “Don’t say that!” She chided. “There has to be something we haven’t thought of yet! Now think!”

Abel hummed. "Weeell, we could take him to the zoo? Seeing the baby sand cats does a pretty good job at cheering ME up on a bad day." He suggested.

The seraphim thought about it for a moment, rubbing her chin.

"They ARE pretty cute, but weren't some of his friends animal-like sinners? What if he sees an animal that reminds him of them and it just makes him worse?" She worried. "No, the zoo should probably for saved for when he's move mentally stable. Anything else?"

Peter raised a hand, and Emily nodded for him to speak. “What about the spa? A mud bath and a massage always puts a smile on my face.”

Abel snorts, grinning playfully up at the blonde. “You got that right.”

Immediately, a blush rose to Peter’s cheeks, and he gently shoved Abel off of his lap. “Shut up! You know I can’t help it!” He huffed.

Abel laughed, sitting up with a smug look on his face. “Doesn’t make it any less cute!” He teased, wiggling a few fingers in Peter’s direction. The other smacked his hand away with a yelp.

“Cut it out, Abel!”

Emily tilted her head. “What are you talking about?” She asked curiously.

“Oh, nothing! Just how adorably ticklish Peter is!” Abel cooed, hand shooting out to prod at the saint’s side.

Peter squeaked, eyes narrowing as he pointed an accusatory finger at the exorcist. “I said cut it out! Don’t forget you’re worse than me!” He warned.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you were ticklish, Peter!” Emily giggled, earning a flustered groan from her companion.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up, a wide grin spreading across her face.

“And you know what? You two just gave me the PERFECT idea!” She leaned forward, pulling them close as she excitedly whispered her plan.

…

Pentious took a sip of his milkshake, starring down at the thick, pink liquid in disinterest. It was far sweeter than anything he'd had access to in hell, tasting of fresh strawberries and whipped cream, nearly to the point of being nauseating. It was something he would never have dreamed of being able to try, even when he was alive, and yet in reality it was completely overwhelming.

Still, Emily had gotten it for him, and he didn't want to seem rude by just chucking it in the trash. Besides, it was pink. Pink was nice; it reminded him of Cherri.

The inventor was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He glanced up, forcing a smile as his eyes met Emily's. "Oh, sorry, did you say something? I'm afraid I zoned out a bit." Pentious apologized.

Emily offered a reassuring smile. "It's okay! I just said I think I know something that can help cheer you up now!"

Oh, cheer him up. Pentious sighed, shaking his head. "I appreciate the effort, but really, I'm fine. No need to-"

The seraphim cut him off, shaking her head with a little tsk sound. "Oooh no, you definitely aren't fine, and what kind of friends would we be if we didn't help you in your time of need?"

Pentious' eyes narrowed in confusion. "We?"

A pair of warms wrapped around him from behind, hoisting him out of the armchair and over to a nearby sofa. The serpentine man let out a hiss of distress, hood flaring as he squirmed in his captor's hold.

"Calm down, it's just me!" Abel grinned down at Pentious as he plopped him back onto the sofa.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" The inventor asked, yellow eyes wide with slight panic as Abel moved to him his arms over his head. "Release me at once!"

"No can do! Em's right; what kind of friends would we be if we let you keep pouting like that?" Peter chimed in, appearing at Pentious' side with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Emily glided over, giggling down at him as she cracked her knuckles. 'Don't worry, Sir Pentious! We'll have you smiling again in no time!" She reassured, fingers hovering above his prone torso. "After all, there's nothing a good tickle can't fix!"

"Wait, a good wha-" The trio didn't give him a chance to finish, Emily's fingers diving down to begin their gentle attack on his stomach as Peter simultaneously went for his neck.

Immediately, his senses were overwhelmed, the feather-light touches sending his nervous system into overdrive and forcing a wave of startled giggles from his lips. "Hohohohohohold on! Wahahahahahahahait!" Pentious squeaked, hood pressing down in a desperate attempt to protect his neck as he squirmed like a worm on a hook.

Emily practically squealed with delight. "I KNEW he'd be ticklish! I just knew it!" She cried victoriously, fingers dancing up and down his stomach. "And he's so cuuuuuute!"

A red blush immediately took over Pentious' cheeks. He shook his head frantically, tail thrashing behind him as another burst of giggles tore out of him. "Nohohohohohoho! I'm nohohohohot cuhuhuhuhuhuhute!" He argued.

"I don't know, you seem pretty cute to me, and I'm not even a fan of snakes." Peter snickered, fluttering a few fingers experimentally over the former sinner's hood.

"Nehehehehehehehehehe! Nohohohohot thehehehehere! Ssssssss!" Pentious let out a borderline squeal, hood pressing as flat as possible, which unfortunately did little to dull the ticklish sensations.

"Daaaw, he hisses when he laughs!" Abel cooed, readjusting his grip to keep their victim from slipping free.

Emily was practically bursting with joy. "That's. So. Precious!" She gushed, now raking her fingers across the inventor's ribs like a washboard. "Tickle tickle tickle, Sir Pentious!"

Pentious shrieked, trying desperately to curl up and defend himself. Admittedly, it was more out of reflex than a genuine desire to get away. While he could never admit it, he DID enjoy being tickled, something his friends at the hotel had capitalized on quite frequently. Being ganged up on like this, cooed over, it made him feel...safer. More at home.

That didn't mean it didn't tickle like HELL, though.

"NOHOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHOHOHOT THE RIHIHIHIBS!" The former sinner cackled, fangs flashing under the warm glow of the lights. Under normal circumstances, an angel would have found them terrifying. But now? They looked downright adorable.

"Come on, everyone knows the minute you say NOT THAT SPOT, it's gonna get tickled MORE!" Abel teased, outstretching his wings with a little smirk. He wrapped the appendages around his companions, who were still hard at work tickling Pentious to tears, allowing the feathered tips to brush against the inventor's sides. "Can't leave these neglected, though, can we?"

An ear-piercing screech sounded out, drawing the attention of a few patrons nearby. Pentious had half a mind to be embarrassed, knowing that everyone could see him right now, but it tickled too bad for him to care. No, what mattered was getting those INFERNAL FEATHERS off of him!

"NEHEHEHEHEHEHE! SSSSSSS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAHAN'T-"

Emily pulled back, motioning for the other two to stop as well. "Oooh, did we push you a bit too hard?" She worried with a frown.

Pentious panted, still shaking with residual giggles as his small wings tried to curl protectively around his torso. "N-Nohohoho, I'm fine. It was juhuhuhust a lot." He reassured her, unable to wipe the massive grin from his face.

"Looks like Operation Cheer Up was a resounding success." Abel released Pentious' wrists, moving back to give him some space.

Emily looked to Pentious for confirmation. "Was it? Do you feel any better?" She asked hopefully.

There was a pause, then a chuckled sigh. "I...suppose I do feel a BIT better." The serpentine man admitted, almost bashful. "I haven't laughed like that since...well, you know."

Emily squealed excitedly, pulling him into a massive hug. "That's wonderful! If you start feeling sad again, just let us know and we'll tickle it all away! As much as you like, whenever you like, just ask!"

Pentious cleared his throat. "Um, t-thank you." He smiled shyly before his expression morphed into something far more devious. "One thing, though..."

"Anything! Anything at all!"

The inventor's tail coiled around the three angels, pulling them closer in what APPEARED to be an embrace. "I'm not redeemed enough to not seek a little revenge." Pentious chuckled with a smirk. Three pairs of eyes went wide as saucers.

"Oh, shit."

[ticklishashell]

For the tickle dynamic asks, I’d love if you did Huskerdust!! 💖

1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?

God, this one is so hard! I can see Angel getting super giggly and snorty when you find a really bad spot, but Husk canonically has this almost wheezy cackle. I can't pick one over the other, it has to be a tie!

2. What are their tickle spots?

Angel's super bad around the armpits, hips and feet (those are a BIG no-touch zone, though), while Husk's weak spots are his stomach, wings and paws.

3. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?

Not really a ticklish spot, per se, but Husk will chuckle a bit and start to purr if you scratch under his chin.

4. Who gets cheer-up tickles?

Angel. Whenever he gets in his head about work, the hotel, etc., you can bet Husk is right there to put a smile back on his favorite loser's face.

5. Do either of them try to hide their ticklishness?

Husk will deny his own sensitivity up until you actually start wrecking him. Then? All bets are off as he screeches about how it "FUHUCKIN' TIHIHICKLES, YOU DIHICK."

6. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?

Angel doesn't really get a chance to do this to Husk, as the bartender doesn't really wear clothes beyond his pants and suspenders, so I think Husk wins this one by default.

7. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?

We all know how touchy Angel is. All it took was a few misplaced hands during a particularly drunken evening to find out how sensitive his favorite kitty is. UNFORTUNATELY for him, Husk isn't one to just let that shit slide, and went for revenge the instant he saw a window to turn the tables.

8. Who can’t take tickle bites/raspberries?

Angel can't STAND them, especially from Husk, whose lips are so soft and fluffy from his fur.

9. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?

Usually Husk; Angel is used to getting up early for shoots, whereas Husk will sleep half the day away before his shift at the bar later in the evening.

10. Who initiates tickle fights?

Angel is usually the one to start things, unless Husk is feeling especially tipsy and/or playful that day.

11. Who gives up in tickle fights?

This one is 50/50; it really depends on who starts the fight and manages to keep the upper hand. While Angel is more ticklish, he has a higher tolerance for it from years of doing tickle-themed shoots, so it can go either way.

12. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?

Angel is a kicker if you go for his thighs or knees, and Husk's wings tend to thrash a lot, so...both of them.

23. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?

ANGEL! He loves going out of his way to pester Husk into attacking him, finding it preferable to actually having to ASK for what he wants. Little pokes, snide remarks, flashing his ticklish spots, he'll do whatever it takes to make Husk snap.