Tickle blog, she/her, adult (30+). Minors DNI. NSFW (content will be mainly SFW but as tickling can be a kink for me in the right context, want to be fully transparent).
Hi internet! I'm AnonEmu (she/her, adult, 30+). I decided to randomly make it a goal to become more comfortable with the side of me that enjoys tickling. Been a long time lurker in the tk tumblr community but never posted anything because I was too shy, flustered, fearful, awkward and nervous. I am still ALL of those things (my heart is literally racing as I'm doing this) but I'm giving it a try FAM I'M GETTING BETTER CUZ YOU'VE ALL BEEN SUPER WELCOMING AND POSITIVE TYSM š More stuff below the cut. My stance on why this is labelled as a NSFW blog here.
Most stuff is gonna be hand-drawn, and I can't guarantee at all a consistent update schedule or if I'll be able to answer asks, it's going to be very helter-skelter, but I appreciate any blog interaction (Minors DNI). Please be respectful in your asks.
Current hyperfixations include (and probably the content you can expect):
Hazbin Hotel (in a big way)
The Mandalorian
Deadpool
One Piece (pre-time skip)
Spooky stuff
I don't know what else to put, so I'm just gonna hide in the corner. Thanks, bye!
I'm actually very flattered anyone would ask, I don't really consider myself at an artistic level to do any paid work. But if you're interested, and it's something I'm ok drawing, why not?
There's no better vengeance than learning to enjoy again
Fandom: Heated Rivalry
Characters: Ilya/Shane
Summary: Ilya won't do anything to Shane without explicit consent, which includes tickling him.
A/N: Inspired by this anon's ask about Ilya being the #consentking. Because he SO is. This is also the fic I've been posting these sneak peeks for hehe.
Words: 2.1k
[Read it on AO3]
Ilya didnāt enjoy being tickled.
The lack of control was part of it. Having grown up in a household where any emotion other than anger was seen as a weakness, he had slowly armored himself in a way to ensure he was nothing but ego and pride to the outside eye. Being tickled just didnāt mesh with that image, and would certainly not bode well if the wrong person caught sight of it. And being out of control like that was dangerous for someone like him. The world wasnāt safe enough for that.
The sensation was another part. Though he wasnāt overly sensitive, he simply didnāt enjoy the feeling of light unwanted touch or, as was usually the case, hard pokes and kneading hands intruding on his person. His body didnāt know what to do with it, and so he ventured into the lack of control territory once more. Pulling knees out of squeezes. Slapping away insisting fingertips. Gritting his teeth all the while.
The fact that the only person who ever tickled him in a way that made him feel safe was his mother - his dead, long gone, wonderful mother - was probably the biggest part of it, though he buried it deep down. It was easier to blame everything else. Easier to pretend it couldnāt be fun in the right circumstances.
Shane never tickled him. Not on purpose, anyway. Ilya had discovered his sensitivity early on, tucked between roaming hands and moans laced with a laugh which could mean anything, really, had Ilya not slowly gotten to know every inch of that body. He knew to steer clear of Shaneās feet, to use more pressure on his inner thighs, to not nuzzle into his neck for too long. He wondered if he showed him the same consideration, or if Ilya had just gotten so good at reigning in his reactions that he had no idea.
He had been tickled by him though, accidentally, when he grabbed his knees to adjust himself, or dug his fingers into Ilyaās sides when something felt good. Innocent actions. Certainly not ticklish enough for Ilya to laugh, though he did remember himself twitching in surprise. If Shane had noticed, he never brought it up. Most importantly he never used it against him.
Ilya tried not to use it against him either, only it became harder once they got closer, once they were boyfriends, and their life was littered with playfulness and domesticity and not just sex. Wrestling Shane to the bed with a deeply ingrained instinct to jam his fingers into his ribs. He was already laughing. Already relaxed and happy and trusting him fully. And the trust was the reason he didnāt. Was the reason he simply pinned his arms to the side and leaned down to kiss him. Mornings of wrapping his arms around his waist in the kitchen, with the sudden urge to curl his fingers over his belly just to make him giggle and squirm into him. A moment of safety, which Ilya could ruin in the disguise of play.
That morning was different. Shane was sprawled out on the bed, sleepy after Ilya had gone down on him twice, and each time he made a sudden movement Shane would twitch and laugh, untouched and yet.
āWhat is it?ā Ilya finally asked, relishing in that smile. All giddiness. All because of him.
Shane pushed his hand away, even though he still hadnāt touched him. āTickles.ā
āWhat?ā
A blush was coloring his cheeks, but Shane wasnāt clinging onto denial or pretence. āI feel really ticklish right now, so I keep thinking youāll tickle me.ā
āI have never tickled you.ā Ilya crossed his arms to show he was keeping them to himself. āWait, how do you feel ticklish?ā
Shane shrugged. āExtra sensitive. Giggly. Tired. Safe. I donāt know.ā
āSafe?ā
He averted his gaze. āI mean, yeah.ā
āBut you keep thinking I will tickle you?ā
He shrugged again.
āSo in that case you donāt feel safe.ā
āBut I do.ā
Ilya wet his lips. āExplain.ā
āI mean, itās fun, right? And I trust you would stop when I needed you to.ā He was bright red now, but he spoke in earnest.
Ilya hummed.
Another part of why he didnāt like being tickled: it was almost always done without his consent. Ilya didnāt like not giving his consent. Didnāt like that people thought they could just take and take in the guise of fun.
He tilted his head at Shane. Maybe not everyone thought the same way as him. āDo you want me to tickle you?ā
Shane let out a strangled laugh. āThat sounds stupid when you put it like that.ā
āI wonāt do it unless you want me to.ā Ilya didnāt mean to tease, but he did enjoy the way Shaneās embarrassment shifted form and turned into something sweet. Something shy.
He reached out slowly and allowed himself to touch now, cradling Shaneās cheek in the palm of his hand. He leaned into the touch and said, āWeāve never had any tickle fights.ā
Ilya shifted. āWe havenāt.ā
āWhy is that?ā
He didnāt have to explain to him that much of their relationship had been a constant tiptoeing of lines they were afraid to cross, and once they did, a quick retreat. For much too long it had been that, until suddenly it wasnāt. It was true that most people would be eager to explore the other side, and it wasnāt that they were afraid, not more than they had to be.
But Ilya didnāt know how to approach this. How something this silly could be so serious to him. āI didnāt know you were ticklish.ā
āYou couldāve found out.ā
āWould you have wanted me to? On my own, I mean?ā
āItās weird to have to tell you about it.ā
āHmm, I lied, actually. I knew about it.ā
Shaneās head snapped to the side. āWait, you did?ā
āYes. For a long time.ā He grinned at Shaneās look. āWhat can I say? I am a gentleman.ā
āIlya,ā he whined, giving his chest a light slap. āWhy would you not have taken advantage of that?ā
Ilya laughed. āIt really sounds like you want me to tickle you, Hollander.ā
āDonāt Hollander me, Rozanov.ā
āYou think you can provoke it out of me, huh?ā
āThatās usually how it works.ā
āI need you to ask for it.ā He moved his hand from his cheek to his jaw. āI need you to tell me you will enjoy it, or at the least not mind me doing it.ā
Shaneās breath caught. āWhy?ā
āBecause-ā He stroked his chin with his thumb. ā-I do not want to do something to you that you donāt want me to do.ā
āOh my god, youāre serious.ā
āOf course.ā
āMost people donāt want to be tickled.ā
āAre you most people?ā
He exhaled slowly. āSome people think itās fun.ā
āAnd are you some people?ā He smiled at him, attempting to keep it light, but Shane looked away anyway. It was cute. It was so cute Ilya nearly crossed his own boundary then and there.
āI donāt know,ā he finally mumbled. āItās been years, and itās never been like this.ā
āLike how?ā
āWith someone I love. Like this.ā
Ilyaās heart was about to burst out of his chest.
He leaned in to press his lips to Shaneās temple. āI love you too much to do something you donāt want me to do. I am not trying to be difficult.ā
āAnd I donāt mean to embarrass you when I tell you I need you to ask for it.ā A smile tugged at his lips. āThough I do enjoy your blush.ā
āIlya.ā
Ilya hummed as he stroked Shaneās cheek with his knuckles. āTell me.ā
āIām- not sure I would like it, but- I mean, I would like us to be like that, you know?ā
āI know.ā
āSo.ā He seemed to brace himself. Ilya found it unbearably adorable. āCould you tickle me? Please?ā
Ilya grabbed his wrist. āSay it again.ā
āIlya-ā
āOkay, okay.ā He laughed at his impatience. āI need you to tell me when to stop, okay?ā
āJesus Christ-ā
āSay āhockeyā, okay?ā
āYes, yes, fine, hockey it is. Now can you get on with it? I hate the anticipation.ā
Ilya grinned. āYou love the anticipation,ā and he pounced, before Shane had time to protest. Neither of them really expected it, that Ilya would straddle him, that he would take his task so seriously. He wasnāt being merciless about it, though. He didnāt pin Shaneās hands, or dig his fingers into spots that would make him twitch with laughter, twitch and jerk and lose control of his limbs. He kept it light, which, when he thought about it, which he would, many times, probably drove Shane all the more crazy.
āWahahait,ā was all he managed to say at first, a constant begging for Ilya to cut it out, to leave him alone, to stop taking advantage of his sensitivity like this. Only Ilya knew his protests didnāt mean anything, at the very least werenāt a proper call for this to end. He cradled the consent in his bare hands, holding it close as he listened to Shaneās begging, listened to him slowly falling apart without feeling like a monster for it.
āYouāre so-ā He wasnāt even sure what he meant to say, only knew that Shaneās laughter, which was filling the room almost entirely now, made him feel both excited and strangely powerful for being allowed this. ā-fucking cute.ā
āShut up!ā Shane spat back, but he had his head thrown back, his hands constantly chasing Ilyaās which skirted over his torso, side, rib, armpit, neck, and back. A chase which could drive anyone mad, but was still simply- fun. For them both.
āI didnāt know you would be so easy to break,ā he said, treading somewhat unknown water. But he liked riling Shane up, and Shane and his biting mouth always enjoyed the challenge of having to deal with him.
He all but growled now, all giggly giddiness from before enveloped in something else, something determined. He dug his feet into the mattress and Ilya realized belatedly that he was trying to buck him off, that he was probably aiming to turn the tables, and while that didnāt mean he wanted this to stop, because the safe word was still nowhere near his tongue, it did mean Shane enjoyed the idea of this being mutual. Of this being bodily and competitive, and Ilya wasnāt certain if he wanted that. Ilya was about to ruin a perfectly good consensual thing because he hadnāt thought to bring himself into the equation.
Only when he found himself hesitating and Shane had the perfect opportunity to turn this around, he still remained glued to his back, knees which he had pulled up to Ilyaās sides relaxing, visibly forcing himself to take this with nothing but his shielding hands. Ilya realized it then. That Shane would never do something to him which he hadnāt consented to. That this meant as much to Shane as it did to him.
God knew how Ilya didnāt cry right there and then.
He leaned down and wrapped his arms around him, taking in his surprised exhale and relishing in how he started squirming the minute he realized that Ilya was still tickling him even now. Fingers curling over his upper ribs, with Shane trapped between him and the bed and giggling into his neck, which tickled him a bit and he found that he didnāt care. He was safe here.
āYouāre so ticklish,ā he mumbled into Shaneās hair, which had Shane slapping his back and laughingly telling him to shut up. āWhat? Is true. You cannot deny it.ā
āYou donāt have to be so mean about it,ā he said, whining when Ilya hit a particularly bad spot. āFuck, this tickles so much, Ilya, get off.ā
āHmm, do you really want me to?ā
āI- ah! I need you to allow me to squirm.ā
Ilya sat up reluctantly. āFine. Thank you for telling me. I can continue, yes?ā
Shane covered his face with his hands. āYes, god, please continue.ā
āCan I tickle your knees?ā
āThis is gonna be the death of me- yes, you can tickle my knees.ā
āGood. I think they will be very bad.ā
āI will kick you.ā
āAh, maybe, but as long as you donāt say hockey I will continue.ā He poked his belly. āUntil we are both satisfied.ā
āDomestic life is so weird,ā Shane said, very obviously trying to redirect his embarrassment.
Ilya decided to bite. āThis canāt be normal domestic life, though, can it?ā
āMaybe not.ā
āWeāre so much less boring. Even you.ā
āOh, ha ha, please tickle me so I will laugh.ā
āOh, I will.ā Ilya beamed at him. āUntil you ask me to stop.ā
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. Alastorās 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.
āLucifer.ā 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?ā
The king gasped softly. āWow, concern! Iām touched.ā
Alastor rolled his eyes. āYou are testing me today, a decision I would not deem wise.ā
Lucifer shifted once more, arms now draped over the back of the chair, chin resting on the other's shoulder. āI donāt know what you mean.ā 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.
āLucifer Morningstar.ā
āYes, darling?ā
The pet name was sweet. Too sweet.
Alastor turned his head slowly, smile now sharp and immaculate. āWhat, precisely, do you think you are doing?ā
Lucifer blinked at him, his grin half-nervous, half-mischievous. āUhuhum...existing?ā
āIncorrect.ā The shadows behind the desk coiled lazily. Deliberate, vaguely threatening in their movements. A warning. āYou 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. āI have no idea what youāre getting at.ā 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.
āYou truly expect me to believe youāre simplyā¦loitering?ā Alastor raised a brow, gazing down at his prey like a cat appraising a corner mouse.
āI can loiter if I want to!ā Lucifer huffed, crossing his arms. āIām the king.ā
āMm, 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 Luciferās 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 wonāt mind if I resume my paperwork and leave you to your dramatic brooding?ā 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. āCare to revise your previous statement?ā
The blonde hesitated. "No...ā 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. āYou are the ruler of Hell. The Morningstar. The Lightbringer.ā His grin was borderline feral. āAnd yet you cannot manage three simple words.ā
Lucifer flushed faintly, cheeks turning a lovely shade of gold.
Alastorās 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.
Luciferās wings flared in embarrassment, a look of indignation gracing his features. āI am not desperate!ā He huffed, blush darkening as he glared up at the sinner.
āNo?ā Alastorās claws lightly traced the air just above his ribs. āThen I suppose you wouldnāt react if I...ā
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. āY-Yohohohohohou cahahan't just-"
Alastor clasped his hands behind his back. āOh dear. Was that what you desired? If only you would use your words, I would know whether or not I should continue...ā
āYou ABSOLUTELY know, you cruel bastard! Come on, you can't just do something like that and-"
āDo I?ā Alastor head tilted. āHow could I know, if you do not tell me?ā
Luciferās 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.
āIf you want something from me, your majestyā¦you will ask for it properly.ā
Lucifer opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. He looked like a fish out of water, gaping in utter disbelief.
āI...that's humiliating, I'm not doing it!" He finally stammered out.
āIs itā Alastor hummed. āYou had no qualms pestering me like a needy hatchling. How is asking for what you desire like an adult any worse?"
āI am NOT needy!"
Alastorās hand drifted just close enough to make Luciferās breath hitch again, yellow eyes locked onto those claws, unable to look away. āThen prove it. Walk away.ā The radio host challenged.
Lucifer didnāt move. Instead, his fingers curled into Alastorās coat, tugging him closer. The king of Hell swallowed thickly, looking at those claws, the wall, ANYWHERE but Alastor's face.
āAlastor...ā
The radio demon waited patiently.
āCould youā¦ā Luciferās wings tucked in tight, voice cracking as he finally forced those dreaded words past his lips. āWould youā¦t-tickle me?ā
Alastor blinked, then snorted. āOh, that was pitiful.ā
Lucifer groaned, head thrown back dramatically as he released Alastor's coat to cover his burning face. āI hate you.ā
āYou adore me.ā
āFather in Heaven, Al, just...please? Please.ā
The word was barely audible.
Alastorās grin softened, not mockery now, but satisfaction. āThere it is.ā He leaned in close, lips brushing Luciferās ear. āGood boy.ā
And then, he struck.
Ten nimble fingers were immediately dancing along Luciferās 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.
āSee? 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. āYou get precisely what you wanted this way.ā
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!"
Ilya was hurt. That was the first thing Shane noticed when he let him into the apartment, the door shutting behind him in urgency, their lips colliding as if they were both starving.
Okay maybe the slight limp wasnāt the first thing he noticed, after all, but as he turned around to open the door to the bedroom and momentarily separated from him, Shane had approximately two seconds to catch Ilya hobbling behind him, which was just enough. āWait, youāre hurt.ā
Ilya shook his head. āIs nothing.ā
Shane grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. āI donāt remember anyone knocking into you.ā
āNot hurt, Hollander. Sore.ā
āOh.ā
Ilya placed a finger on Shaneās throat. āDidnāt warm up enough.ā His grin was lethal. āI guess I was as impatient as you are.ā
āI always warm up.ā
āNot in bed.ā
āOh.ā He felt his face grow hot. It always surprised him that Ilya could make him blush. āWait, shut up.ā
Ilya laughed and let himself be pulled down to the bed, where he immediately took over the gears as was their custom.Ā
Much later, when night had fully engulfed the room, Shane said, āI have a massage gun.ā
Ilya hummed somewhere above him. āAre you threatening me?ā
Shane slapped his stomach lightly. āFor your sore leg. Where does it hurt?ā
He saw the outline of Ilyaās face in the darkness. āThigh. Front and back. Mostly back. I donāt know. Doesnāt matter.ā
āIt does if you want help using it.ā He heaved himself off the bed and tried not to linger on the whine that escaped from Ilya. āItās in my closet. Wait here.ā
Ilya was still curled up when Shane returned and seemed to not appreciate the light being turned on. āFlip over.ā
āIs this your way of asking for another round?ā
āIām trying to help you, you asshole. Get on your stomach.ā
Ilya grumbled something in Russian and turned over slowly, giving Shane full access to the back of his thigh. He was still very much naked and Shane did his best to behave as he kneeled over him. āIs it your right leg?ā
āYes.ā
Shane placed his hand on it. āAround here?ā
āHigher.ā
āRozanov.ā
āIs true.ā
āRight.ā He cleared his throat and couldāve sworn he heard Ilya laugh. Asshole. He turned on the massage gun. āOkay, tell me if it hurts too much.ā
Whatever sound Ilya made was drowned out by the massage gun and- whatever other sound Ilya made which replaced it. Shane was too busy navigating the gun to pay him any mind, knowing he was dramatic and tired and pretending he was fine, but it became harder to ignore him when he started thrashing beneath him.
āHey, hey,ā he said, pulling the gun away. āBe still, you drama queen.ā
āYou are drama queen,ā Ilya bit back, craning his neck to look back at him. āGet off, I donāt like it.ā
āItās not about liking, Rozanov. You need some rehab.ā
āI need sleep and a blowjob.ā
Shane huffed out a laugh. āYou can get that afterward, you know. If you ask nicely.ā
āOh, as if you wouldnāt beg me for it- dohonāt!ā
Shane had pressed the massage gun into his thigh again, but Ilyaās reaction made him withdraw it quickly. āWhat? Did I hurt you?ā
āNo.ā Ilya seemed to be speaking through gritted teeth. āPut that thing away.ā
āNever thought Iād hear you say that.ā
āOh, he thinks heās funny.ā Ilya tried to roll over, but Shane was still very much straddling his legs.
āHold on for like five minutes, it will help, I promise.ā
āNo- no! Hollander, I will-ā But whatever else he was about to say was overpowered by the massage gun and his laughter, which had Shane absolutely mesmerized until he realized why he was laughing.
āOh my god, youāre ticklish.ā
āHollander.ā Ilya reached back blindly to knock the gun away. āEnough.ā
āI didnāt know you were ticklish,ā he said, allowing him to turn over onto his back.
āStop looking so happy about it,ā he growled. āI am not.ā
āThatās not what I just saw.ā
āYou hit a nerve.ā
āRight, right.ā Shane pointed the massage gun at him, which was still on. āSo if I massaged the front of your thigh it wouldnāt bother you?ā
Ilya clenched his jaw. āNo.ā
Shane let out a laugh. āSo may I?ā
It was strangely fun watching him have a silent battle with himself, which was only really visible through the way he clenched and unclenched his jaw. āYes.ā
Shane was expecting it now. The twitch and the laugh, the way he did everything to keep his body still as the massage gun was pressing into his muscle. He had to admit it was endearing. He had to admit he felt strangely proud that, despite pretending not to, Ilya was allowing him to see this.
A spasm went through his body and he reached out, grabbing Shaneās arm and pulling him down, and Shane turned the massage gun off and laughed into his his chest as he waited for him to calm down. āSo,ā he said, dragging the word out. āA little ticklish?ā
He growled, which was both hot and terrifying. āYou are a dead man, Hollander.ā
āYou gonna punish me?ā He grinned up at him, which mightāve been the final nail in his coffin because Ilya flipped them over easily after that, and while Shane thought he was reaching down to grab at certain parts, Ilya was actually going for his inner thigh. And it really fucking tickled, it turned out.
Thorin couldnāt take his eyes off Bilbo. Watching the hobbit stall out the most festive meals before him and seeing his eyes sparkle with excitement, it was the greatest pleasure in life actually, and a blessing to experience from up close.
āOh and this is the stew made from the freshly grown potatoes and pumpkins. It goes really well with this bread, homemade and quite tasty I must admit, the crust is spectacular. You should also definitely try some of this-ā Bilbo said, putting out way too much food for just two people.
Stew, meat off the bone, bread, eggs, pie, fruit salad, and Bilbo had also been rambling about dessert already, and Thorin really wondered how Master Hobbit could stuff all that in his tiny little body. He chuckled.
āWhat? Whatās funny?ā Bilbo asked, stopping mid-ramble to look at Thorin. Thorin shook his head and chuckled some more.
āCome here,ā he said, extending his arm.Ā āBefore dinner, I would like a little treat first,ā Thorin said. Bilbo raised his eyebrows.
āTreat? This here, this is not a treat?ā he asked, almost sounding offended as he signaled vividly at the table that was loaded with food.
āYou know what I mean. I want a real treat,ā Thorin said, extending his arm further until he could grab Bilboās hand.Ā
āU-uh well if you mean this isnāt a real treat then-ā he murmured when Thorin dragged him to where he was sitting, and he wrapped him tenderly in his arms.
āThisĀ treat,ā Thorin said, and he kissed Bilboās lips.Ā
āAnd this,ā Thorin whispered, kissing his cheek.
āThis, and this,ā he said, getting carried away as he kissed Bilboās neck and ear. A cute giggle could be heard from the flustered hobbit.
āThohorin! I ahaham not for e-eating! Weāve got all this!ā Bilbo squeaked, but Thorin only tightened his embrace and when Bilbo tried to pull himself free, he held his sides tightly and accidentally tickled him.Ā
āHah! Thorin!ā Bilbo whined, jumping slightly. Thorin smirked.Ā
āYes, dear?ā he taunted, and he tickled him again, this time on purpose.
āThohoorin hahaha! Nohoho!ā Bilbo managed to turn around in his embrace, but Thorin pulled him back and attacked him from behind, his quick and nimble fingers scribbling all over Bilboās stomach and sides.Ā
āIt tihiickles Thohorin! T-the food wihill gehehet cohohold!ā Bilbo cried, but Thorin simply kissed his head from behind and took in the pleasant scent of his curly hair. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of Bilboās belly and he had to hold back a silly giggle of his own when Bilbo flailed his arms hysterically.
āHahahah! I gihihive! Thorin plehehease!ā he laughed. Thorin smiled. He should apologize to Bilbo for such a random tickle attack right before dinner. Instead he finally stopped the playful tickling and he hugged him tight.
āThat was a lovely treat,ā Thorin teased in Bilboās ear.Ā
āNow, letās enjoy our meal,ā he said, and he patted Bilboās butt teasingly before finally releasing him. Completely flustered and blushing like crazy, Bilbo moved back towards his seat and he eyed him shyly.
āY-you, that really wasnāt necessary but, well,ā he said nervously, and he swallowed.Ā
āYes, letās eat! E-enjoy,ā he said, and Thorin had the pleasure of seeing Bilbo blush and smile during their dinner, which made it all even more delicious.Ā
This made me smile. I'm not a big LOTR gal but really enjoyed the Hobbit movies (mainly for Martin Freeman) and I deffo picked up on and support this ship. Also the description of the food made me hungry - I want homemade hobbit bread!
human ragatha/pomni pomni caressing ragathas strechmarks because ragatha is insecure about them (chubby ragatha supremacy) and even if pomni isnāt trying too itās sooo ticklish for her she just cant stay upset
alternatively, pomni stitching up ragathaās loose seams or tears from adventures and caressing the seams (just as ticklish)
reblogging this because I've had stretch marks all over my body since like 15 due to medical treatment with steroids and was always so horribly self-conscious about them. And the thought that someone could see those as a lovely and fun spot to tickle is just...really healing actually. I know the ask wasn't for me at all but thank you anon.
Can you answer Vox and Alastor for the questions ask?? If you want! Love your content āļøš
OoOoO š for these, let's assume these two are friends and aren't trying to kill each other anymore
who has the cutest tickle laugh?
im gonna say vox. alastor has a beautiful laugh as well but i think what makes vox's stand out is the contrast. alastor's regular laugh and tickle laugh are in the same general octave; one's just a little freer and happier sounding than the other. vox's tickle laugh is so FAR REMOVED from his regular laugh. his regular laugh is big and booming but his tickle laugh is high-pitched and giggly. it could (and has) shattered glass with it's pitch. i've heard christian borle's range, i know vox is a shrieker
what are their tickle spots?
alastor's are behind his ears, sides, and hooves. vox's are his underarms, neck, gills, and antenna (someone mentioned it once and i cannot let it go shut up)
who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?
vox's antenna really surprised alastor when he first found out. it was actually the first tickle spot alastor ever found (more on that later) and it amused him to no end. he abuses this knowledge consistently. he has enough mercy (or maybe greed) to not share this information with anyone else
who gets cheer-up tickles?
both. vox receives them a lot more often because he lets things get to him easily, and alastor can't be seen with someone not fully dressed without their smile now can he? because of this, vox has taken to giving alastor a taste of his own medicine when alastor gets grouchy. it's very funny for vox because everyone else is just like how can you tell he's cheered up, he's always smiling???
do either of them try to hide their ticklishness?
oh christ yes. they both have reputations to uphold after all. they both would rather get their asses kicked on live tv than let it slip that they were ticklish. of the two of them, vox tries to hide it a liiiitle harder than alastor. if there was truly no way to lie his way out of it, alastor would admit it but gaslight you into thinking it was no big deal and not even worth talking about. vox, on the other hand, is not capable of admitting it; even if it makes him look like the worst liar in hell
who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?
vox doesn't take quite as much enjoyment out of being a little shit as alastor does. alastor will catch him getting dressed and make the "never fully dressed without a smile" quip while he tickles him silly
how did they discover each otherās ticklishness?
vox found out about alastor first. it was way back in the past before their friendship fell apart. in the midst of a drunken stupor, vox shook alastor by the waist jovially and got to witness alastor's drunk ass laugh and wiggle away. al was too off-his-guard to even notice it happened, while vox stilled for a second, not quite believing what he just saw. he spent the rest of the evening pretending like nothing happened (he was too scared to acknowledge it) but it sat in the back of his mind for the entire night, making him blush when he was all alone
alastor found out closer to present day. vox was being a grump and alastor was toying with him for the fun of it and flicked his little antenna, which caused vox to nearly fall over. the glint in alastor's eyes was scarier than any he'd ever seen. (vox would then discover that al is actually a pretty considerate ler and it was pretty nice :)). as al teased him about it after his wrecking, vox spluttered about how al is ticklish too so he had no room to laugh. he maybe should have kept that to himself after all. alastor quickly made him regret it
who canāt take tickle bites/raspberries?
vox cannot take tickle bites at all. which is partially why they're alastor's favorite
who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?
alastor is pretty much a night owl and is not accustomed to waking up early. vox, a savvy businessman, gets up bright and early and will gladly resort to tickling Mr. Smiley awake when needed
who initiates tickle fights?
vox always loses tickle fights, so you'd think that would mean he would know better than to start them. but he knows full-well what he's doing when he provokes alastor. he wants to get tickled by that red bastard so bad he'll be the biggest pest in hell to get it
Who gives up in tickle fights?
vox. he's, as alastor puts it, "too easy"
who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?
so this one's complicated hahahaha. alastor thrashs and flails more, but vox's equipment isn't too fragile and can survive it pretty fine. alastor's flesh is much more easy to wound but vox doesn't thrash that violently so *shrug*
who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?
vox provokes alastor by fake-stretching a lot and finding excuses to raise his arms above his head. one that works every time is purposely pulling the most exaggerated frown imaginable so that al will fix it
My @squealing-santa gift for moonlight!anon! I hope you like it!! <3
1135 words, Lee Alastor, Ler Vox
ItāsĀ been a rough day. All according to plan, of course, but still. Humiliating himself and getting ābeatenā by Vox...Ā itāsĀ all beenĀ rather stressful. Tied in his chair,Ā heāsĀ calmĀ enough, butĀ the cogs in his head are ever-whirring away with his plan, and there might be a way toĀ get just a little peace from that, take his mind off it. Or have it taken off itĀ forĀ him.Ā
āFunny,ā Alastor muses from his chair, āhow some demons think theyāve won just because theyāve got you cornered.ā Even with his arms bound, he speaks with the air of someone stretching them behind his head, leaning back, oozing confidence.Ā Ā
The screen across from him flickers with anger. āI donāt think Iāve won ā IĀ knowĀ I have.āĀ
āMmm,ā says Alastor,Ā gaze sliding to one side, brows raised.Ā
Somehow, usingĀ noĀ words appears to annoy Vox more than ifĀ heādĀ come up withĀ an insult. Electricity crackles with his irritation, and heĀ stands from his chair, glowering across the room at his captive. āMaybe youĀ need a demonstration.Ā Maybe IĀ should--āĀ Ā
Alastorās grin widens as Voxās voice cuts out mid-threat. The pause is just long enough for him to pivot in his chair and give himself a push with his feet, sliding the chair backwards, just out of reach of the hand thatĀ swipesĀ at him.Ā Ā
Voxās face erupts with pixellated fury, and his form contorts for a split-second before he materialises inches behind Alastor, fingers crackling with errant voltage as he makes a grab for Alastorās shoulder. The radio demon twists away with a delightedĀ shriek, butĀ heāsĀ not fast enough ā Vox's thumb just grazes the delicate junction between neck and collarbone, and the resulting squirmĀ nearly hasĀ his chair tipping over.Ā Ā
āAha!ā Vox cries outĀ in triumph. āOhhh,Ā someoneāsĀ ticklish.āĀ
Alastorās breathing hitches, half-laugh, half-gasp, as Voxās fingers dart down and skate over his ribs, sending sparks of sensationĀ glittering through him. He arches away, but Voxās other hand clamps down on his waist, pinning him betweenĀ them.Ā Ā
āNowwwĀ then,ā Vox croons, leaning in. āWhat was that aboutĀ someĀ demons,Ā again?āĀ
Alastor opens his mouth to retort, butĀ another shock from Voxās fingertips has him choking out a laughĀ instead. His laughterĀ dissolves into wheezing gigglesĀ as thoseĀ fingersĀ spider-walk up his sides, each touch sending jolts of electricity dancing across his skin.Ā āS-stop ā ah! -Ā YouāreĀ cheatingĀ withĀ th-those damn shocks!ā he gasps, toes curling in his shoes as Vox finds that spot just under his ribs that makes him jerk.Ā
āCheating?ā Vox grins, leaning in. āNo, no, I thinkĀ youāllĀ find this is called winning! What were you expecting?Ā All yourĀ taunting... youĀ didnātĀ thinkĀ IādĀ put you in your place?āĀ
Alastorās voice comes out in a wrecked, hiccupping giggle as Voxās thumbs dug into the hollows of his hips, sending him thrashing against his bonds.Ā āI- ah!! - I thoughtĀ youādĀ be slower, you g-glorified toaster!ā he manages to gasp before he cuts himself off againĀ with a shriek as Voxās fingers skitter up his ribs again.Ā He manages to get a foot on the floor with enough leverage to give his chair a firm push away from Vox again, who darts after him like lightning.Ā
One handĀ clampsĀ down on the back of his chair.Ā Vox spins his chair aroundĀ as he yanks it back towards himĀ and leans down, laugh buzzing against the back of Alastorās neck, the electrical current humming louder. Alastor twists, trying to put some distance between his ears and theĀ ticklishĀ buzz of staticĀ beforeĀ it occurs toĀ VoxĀ to target them.Ā
His breathing hitches again as Vox reaches down to squeeze at his thigh, the voltageĀ dialled down to a teasing thrum that makes his muscles twitch involuntarily.Ā āYouāre-Ā ahaha!! - youāre enjoying this too much,ā he accuses, voice cracking as Voxās thumb digs into his thigh just enough to make him jerk. āAdmit it, youāve-Ā n-no! -Ā youāveĀ been dying to get your claws on me like this!āĀ
Voxās screen flickers with a smug glow, his fingers never stopping their relentlessĀ assault as Alastor squirms in his chair. āOh, absolutely,ā he admits, voice thick with smug delight. āA chance to put you in your place? I thoughtĀ IādĀ done that already, butĀ apparently not!Ā SoĀ kind of you to let me know youĀ wanted another lesson!āĀ
Alastorās breath comes in ragged, uneven bursts, his entire body trembling with the aftershocks of laughter and lingering electricity. HisĀ upperĀ arms are still bound to the elbow, leaving only his forearms free, hands just able to reach Voxās but not able to stop them. His fingers scrabble uselessly against Voxās forearm, claws leaving faint scratchesĀ inĀ the fabricĀ of his sleeve.Ā
āLook at you,ā Vox croons. āWerenāt you listening earlier?Ā You canĀ try to squirm andĀ struggleĀ andĀ itĀ wouldnātĀ do a thing!āĀ
Alastor growls through his grin, twisting again and trying to use his foot to push his chair away again, but this time, Vox is quicker, and stops him before he even gets out of reach.Ā Ā
āWell, if you still havenāt managed to learn... perhaps weāll take it a step further!ā Abruptly, Vox sets one foot on the base of the chair andĀ tips the whole thing over.Ā Alastor, still tied to it, ends up on his back, still in the seated position, his legs in the air. To make mattersĀ worse, Vox sits down right beside him on the floor, that infuriatingly smug grin pointed down at Alastor, and he begins to walk his fingertipsĀ upĀ from Alastorās stomach, over his ribs,Ā poking and nudging and tickling all the way while Alastor scrunches his nose and tries not to giggle, up his neck, and finally up into his hair to find his ears.Ā Ā
Alastor twitches in alarm and jerks his head away, a giggle already halfway out of his mouth, butĀ thereāsĀ really nowhereĀ to go.Ā āNo!āĀ Voxās hand follows, and his fingertips start to tickle.Ā Alastor begins to squirm anew, shaking his head, turning it from side to side, laughterĀ bordering on hystericalĀ now as he squirms in his strange position and starts to kick his legs a little too. āS-stop! Vox!ā he protests, and to his absolute horror, a bleat escapes.Ā
Voxās fingers still, just for a second, while he registers what he just heard.Ā āWas that...?āĀ
āNo.āĀ
āIt was.āĀ
āNo.āĀ
āIt was! Ha! Oh, fuck! The radio demonĀ bleats!āĀ
AlastorĀ doesnātĀ get a chance to deny it before his ears are being tickled again andĀ heāsĀ dissolving intoĀ giggles,Ā a boneless heapĀ being played like an instrument.Ā HeāsĀ not even sure how long passes before Vox asks, āhave you learned your lesson yet?āĀ
He gasps, pants, wheezes, trying to catch his breath, and heĀ doesnātĀ reply.Ā
I can't stop drawing them having tickle fights. š„“ Something about uncontrolled laughter, while two partners simultaneously discover each other's buttons, is really adorable to me!
(And now I permanently headcanon that Luci has the skill of stimulating others' nerves with his magic. This is a hidden ability that's used on Alastor 99% of the time.)
the concept of Alastor being ticklish against his will is so amusing to me. he can create unimaginable horrors from the flick of a wrist but he is still not immune to the idiosyncrasies of a physical body. I can just imagine him being accidentally tickled by like a gust of wind and being like ugh. this infernal vessel. this is so embarrassing. he would be so peeved
Hi! Here's another lee!Vox tickle fic! This one comes straight from a prompt by @thetickleeraven which they very kindly gave me permission to write for! The full prompt is here if you wanna take a look!
Lee: Vox
Lers: Vel and Val
Summary: Vox gets his body back, but it comes with some new... ticklish... features...
Warning: slightly suggestive dialogue between Vox and Val here and there, nothing explicit though
Don't You Forget (You're On Our String)
Vox was ecstatic when they said they would give him back his body. Pshhh- he knew they'd come round eventually! Ok, so things hadn't gone as planned with the heaven takeover (the details escaped him now) but there was still plenty to be done, and his plans were far from over! He just needed to wait for the right opportunity to come his way. He was glad his counterparts could finally see that again, and trust him to take them there!
Vel and Val had been giving him the cold shoulder for a few weeks now since the "glitch" (their news channel was calling it an 'accident', so he didn't know why they were calling it different - although he did remember the doomsday machine having some issues, which he was forced to remedy himself). Being keyed-in as he was, he understood they'd be a little mad - he knew he'd probably been a bit preoccupied in the weeks preceeding the big event, and they might be suffering a lack of his attention. He also knew he'd gotten a little out of hand on the day - but really, what did they expect?! Taking over heaven was no mean feat! At least he was giving it his all - they just liked commitment. In fact, the problem was probably because of their failure to commit! So if anything, they should be seeking his forgiveness for ruining everything! But he was sure he could find his way to forgive them, once they came to their senses again. And that's what appeared to be happening, now they were finally returning his body privileges - being a head the last few weeks had been hard.
"See you soon, papito," Val had grinned down seductively at him just before he was powered down for the procedure, a rare show of attention from the moth who had been much more distant since the failed coup. Vox had rolled his eyes at the term, never having stopped to learn the meaning but knowing it always made him feel diminutive - and without even a body, that was just something he could not tolerate at the moment. As his vision faded off, the last thing he saw was Val's scowl.
He knew the procedure wasn't too complicated - after all, he'd replaced his head before - but he did know it was much more comfortable to have it done unconscious, so despite the general atmosphere, he'd allowed his two associates to organise it for him. Besides, they'd been rather insistent. Perhaps they still cared for him more than he thought. The work would be slightly complicated by the fact that his body - particularly where the wires and arteries had been so uncermoniously ripped apart - would be in need of some repairs, but it wouldn't be too long, and then he would be restored to his full glory again.
---
Some time later, he felt himself lying in bed. Felt..? He could feel the softness of the covers lying over his skin - his skin! He tried to shift, just to feel some more of it, but his system was still catching up with him. With a lot of effort, he managed to move his arms from side to side slightly, enjoying the light fabric rubbing on him. He smiled and let out a satisfied little hum.
"Feel good, papi?"
Vox's eyes flew open with a gasp, landing immediately on Val, lounging back in a comfortable chair by his bedside. His eyes caught movement further back in his room near the window, where Vel was amusing herself, twirling in his own chair, nose to her phone.
"Uh... yeah," he ignored the humour in Val's comment, managing to lift himself back onto his arms to sit upright against the softly glowing headboard. "God it- it's so good to have this body back!"
He looked down at his arms, turning them over to inspect them fully; down his chest, grinning at the sight of his own muscles and planes (despite being a little out of shape from the lack of use of a few weeks), and then - he lifted the cover slightly to peek underneath the waistband of his shorts. He let out a little sigh of relief as his shoulders dropped, letting the cover fall back down.
"Happy?" Val prodded again.
"Yeheah!" Vox chortled with glee, now exploring all of it voraciously, running his fingers - his fingers! - over it, revelling in the command and response between himself and himself, wiggling his clicker-like toes and feet, flexing his ankles, knees, hips in turn, working up through all his joints, stretching them out-
"Yeah, yeah, it's fucking brilliant," Velvette interrupted his joy, suddenly having appeared beside them both. "You got your body back, but it's gonna come with some ground rules."
"Huh?" Vox looked up, "wut?" His confusion twisted into a stroke of annoyance.
"Ground rules? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about ground rules, Vox. You went fucking batshit back there, and you are not doing it again. You need a leash." Velvette clapped angrily, placing a hand on her hip.
"A l- what the fuck?! I don't need fucking rules! Who do you think I am?!" Vox felt the heat rising to his face.
"Yes you do." Val interjected with a frown, his arms crossed.
Vox stared for a moment, eyes wild, his recently re-attached body tense as if it might do something in the next moment.
He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed, storming past the two of them, still in his shark-print boxers.
"Whatever! I don't need this, you can't tell me what to do-" he sent some cables out to gather up some clothes and things, but nothing happened. He looked down at his own hands accusingly. "What the fuck?!"
"Looking for these?"
Glancing up quickly, he saw Velvette smirking at him, holding up a short bundle of black wires.
"Hey! Why have you got those?! Give them back!" He cleared the distance between them in a few large steps and lunged towards her, knowing he could get them back easily with his far-greater height, only just in time for her to throw the cables cleanly into Val's waiting hands.
Vox growled and approached the bigger demon without hesitation.
Val snickered as he passed the cables from hand to hand, using his extra limbs to keep Vox back.
"-fucking- VAL!!" Vox struggled, desperate to use his cables to grab the other and manoeuvre him where he needed him to be, but there they were, right in his annoying, tall, fiddlesome, bastard hand-
"Come on, Voxxie!" Val purred, smiling more all the time. "You're just a little off!" And he took the cables into one of his top set of hands, holding it far above his head, and far far above Vox's reach, adding insult by pushing one of his lower hands down onto Vox's face until he was almost horizontal, preventing him from being able to claw his way up like he was desperately trying to do.
Vel interrupted Val's giggling more seriously. "You're not having them, fuck-for-brains! I'm not joking, Vox - you were fucking insane, and we need to know you're not going to do anything like that - ever - again."
Vox threw himself off of Val, standing a few paces back and staring at them both with a wild, almost pained expression.
"You know what, fine! If you don't trust me, if you don't want me t- then just- fine-" He had completely turned his back, hiding the beginnings of salty drops that welled up in the corners of his eyes, uninvited, the ones he swore to himself would never touch his face again, storming towards the door to go god knows where, when an awful sensation gently but unignorably wracked his body, from top to bottom. He froze, convulsing on the spot, quickly doubling over. It only lasted a moment, disappearing almost as soon as it started, but not before an almighty yelp slipped out of him.
Good god.
"We didn't say we didn't want you, dick-brains. But yeah, the trust is a problem."
"That's why we installed this thing!" Val said hopefully.
Vox had been struggling to listen, instead remaining doubled over, breathing hard and looking terror-stricken, but at Val's words his head whipped up.
"What thing?!"
"This!" Vel said with a scowl, tapping her phone. Immediately the sensation was back, rippling through him in jitters. He felt like he was vibrating from the inside out. The sensation was everywhere: on his skin, and under it. He was bent over again, hugging around his stomach at the god-awful feeling, and this time it wasn't stopping.
"Sorry to have to do this, Vee, but we need to know you're not gonna go off the rails again. We want you with us, but we need to know you're with us, not-" She was interrupted by another strained noise from him.
"Hng- stohop!" He dragged out, but there was a strange brightness to his voice.
"Hm?" Both Vel and Val looked over immediately, to where their partner, friend, was hunched over, trembling.
Val noticed the look on his face, and said incredulously, "Are you... laughing?"
"Hn- hngg- nohoho!" Vox growled, but he couldn't keep the wide, strained grin off his face now. "J-juhust- turn it ohoff!"
Valentino's openly blank look slowly slid into a sly smile. "Oh, baby- I knew you were sensitive, but not like this." He did nothing to disguise the delight from his voice as he cooed.
"He what-?! He's- it's tickling him?" Vel sounded miffed, until she locked eyes with Valentino. They suddenly shared a dangerous look.
Vox, from his tricky position, observed this exchange. "Nnnnahah! Nonono- hah!" T-tuhurn it ohohoff!!" He tried to sound commanding but it came out laced with giggles.
"Oh sure, Voxxie." Val looked at him hungrily. "Just as soon as you show us you can be good~!"
Vox squeaked incredulously.
"Yeah," Vel said with an air like an idea was dawning, "how about we give you the full tour of this new feature we got you? It was supposed to taze you, but this is even better!"
By now Vox had fallen to his knees, hugging himself around his middle as if that would somehow remove the gentle tickling going on all over him. He had tensed himself as much as he could against the feeling, whining and tittering around his groans and attempts to reason with his treacherous teammates.
"Ohohoh!" Vel giggled, all giddy. "This is only level two!"
"W-WHAHAT?!" Vox piped up, staring at her with wide eyes from the floor. "THEHEHERE'S LEHEVELS?!"
She grinned. "Yep. Five! Wanna see number three?"
"N-noho!" Vox was losing that commanding tone. "V-Vehel! Th- thihis isn't fahahair!"
"Fair?!" Her eyes narrowed at him. "What wasn't fair was that fiasco at the takeover! Your little glitch almost got us killed! Oh this is more than fair!" And with a practised look of aloofness, she hit the button.
Vox arched. He squealed into full giggles, unable to stop himself with the newly assertive tremors working their way through him, more present than the gentle tingles of before - he wished he could go back to that.
"Vehehel, Vehehel!!" He giggled boyishly. "Ssstop itttt! Rihight- nohohohoooow!"
"Mi amor, you are down bad," Valentino looked at his squirming partner with concern.
"This is your problem, Vee! You think you can go around telling everyone what to do! Well check your notifications babe, because you can't! We're not taking it anymore!" Vel argued with the man slowly coming apart on the floor before her.
Whether Vox had heard her and meant to respond was unclear, as all he seemed able to do at this moment was curl his arms round himself and roll around the floor in a laughing fit.
"You hear me, prick?!" She approached, leaning over him to get his attention, but his eyes were screwed shut, lost in a world of his own ticklish torment. When she started poking him in his midriff, however, she got a better reaction, as he squiggled around like a little fish, his giggles becoming panicked, and his eyes opened to meet hers.
"Do - you - hear - me?" She punctuated all her words with more pokes, expertly finding unprotected spots wherever he tried to go. Despite her rage she was smiling beside herself.
Words failing, he shook his head obstinately.
"Oh you-!" She growled, and started poking more rapidly with both hands, wherever she could reach.
"I wouldn't make her any madder, Voxxie~" Valentino sang from afar, watching appraisingly at this new discovery, and the professional in him inwardly wondering if there would ever be an opportunity to test it in the bedroom.
Vox squealed loudly at the words and something in his demeanour shifted. He started nodding his head to rapidly.
"Okahahay okay okayahay- I hear- I hear- I hehehehehear!!!"
"Hah!" Velvette remarked, withdrawing. "That's better! It's a start anyway."
Vox continued giggling and writhing for a moment, the 'tazer's' sensations still keeping him busy, until Val spoke up again.
"Move over, Dolly, it's my turn."
Velvette stepped to the side with a smug lookwhile Val approached, looking for all the world like he wanted to eat the writhing man on the ground.
Brain finally catching up, Vox's eyes popped open, and when he saw Val looming over, he somehow managed despite everything to clumsily kick his legs out, pushing himself messily backwards a few inches, throwing a hand out sporadically at intervals as if it would somehow keep the other away, though he was unable to keep it off his sides for long.
"V- VAHAhahahAAAL!!" He begged, chopping between brighter giggles and full-belly laughs. He looked up with eyes that pleaded with Val, pulling on Valentino's heartstrings.
But he was nothing if not devious.
Val smiled wide before scooping him up in his grand arms and walking him back towards the bed.
"Oh come on, babe. We're only doing this to help you~" He babytalked. "We're gonna help you to stop and enjoy what we've built! You know... let someone else be in charge..." He chuckled at the way Vox's laughter-garbled protests intensified at the suggestion, knowing full-well this would be an agonising learning curve for his long-time 'partner'.
"Oh come on, Voxxie! You wouldn't deny me after you let Velvette have a turn!" And he dumped him ceremoniously on the covers, watching him bounce from the height.
"I WOHOHOULD!! I WOHOULD!!" Vox was nodding frantically, his face taking a delightful cyan around the centre.
Ignoring the response, Val descended, four arms falling down like a bad omen. "Let's see how ticklish our little ruler really is~"
The last two episodes gave me so many emotions and some interesting informations that I couldn't do anything about it, right?! š
Fanart based on a fan fic I've read recently - The Rivalry Continues - by @thematchmaker22
I thought these guys needed some fluff and comfort after Vox's events and since no one is checking on them, then they will eventually checking on eachother! š»š
Summary: Alastor has Lucifer pinned against the wall and is ready to remind him who the most powerful sinner in Hell is, once again forgetting even he can't harm someone as powerful as Lucifer. His attempts at clawing through his ribs does do something though... [THIS IS A TICKLE FIC]
soooo im super mega ultra hyperfixated on hazbin hotel. made some tickle art, been posting tickle prompts/hcs, and now my first hazbin fic. you can read this as radioapple if you want.
REMINDER THAT THIS BLOG WILL BE DELETED (eventually) AND ALL MY FICS WILL BE ON AO3 FOREVER.
>>>BOOKMARK MY AO3 HERE<<<
---
Lucifer rolled his eyes.
Sure, most people would be shaking in fear if they were slammed against the wall by Alastorās tentacles with the demon grinning above them, antlers and all.
But Lucifer wasnāt most people. He was an invincible goddamn Morningstar.
āWhat, this some kinda power play, Bambi?ā He smirked, knowing that nickname pissed him off pretty bad last time he used it.
āYou would do well to give more respect to the most powerful sinner in Hell.ā The radio demon growled as he twirled his repaired staff.
āIf youāre shitty enough to be sent here youāre not deserving of respect, buddy.ā
The screech of an elk rang out and Alastorās hand grew large sharp claws. He tilted his head with that wide grin of his.
āLet this be a reminder of who really runs this hotel.ā The demonās claws slashed in a fraction of a second across the angelās chest.
Lucifer didnāt even flinch as the claws barreled towards him. He was one of the most powerful beings in the universe. Even angelic steel couldnāt do much to him. Claws wouldnāt even break skin.
But as soon as they made contact, he couldnāt help the startled laugh pulled from him.
Ohhhhh that wasnāt good.
It didnāt hurt him, of course. It was pretty much impossible for a sinner to do so.
No. He jumped because that fucking tickled. Really really bad.
If thereās one soul in hell who didnāt need to know how devastatingly ticklish he was, it was the stupid deer in front of him.
āIāve got to say, itās rather bold to laugh in the face of the radio demon. Though youāve been nothing if not brazenly confident since your creation, havenāt you?ā His grin tightened and eyes narrowed.
āYep. That is, uh, that is why I laughed. Yes. Toā¦ mock you.ā Lucifer replied very convincingly.
The tentacles around his wrists and ankles gripped harder and he reared his claws back for another, larger, swipe.
The slash was indeed more powerful, more pressure behind those pointy claws that raked across his ribs.
Which is why, despite the embarrassment, he snorted and let out a few squeaky giggles.
The radio demon looked frustrated but puzzled, analyzing his face for answers.
Good. That meant he probably hadnāt figured it out yet.
Lucifer cleared his throat loudly. āAhem! Well, uh, thatās just soā¦ funny. Funny that youāre trying to scare the fucking king of Hell.ā
Lucifer gasped as Alastorās claws wrapped around his sides, the tips digging into his flesh.
From the look on the demonās face it was still an intimidation tactic, eyes narrowing, clearly pissed that he couldnāt injure him.
But holy fucking shit that tickled so goddamn bad.
His body was trembling and his face reluctantly curled into a helpless grin. His frame shook as he tried to breathe through his urge to laugh.
Alastor growled and his grip tightened.
A loud snort followed by rapid high-pitched giggles tumbled from Luciferās mouth.
āS-Stohohohop ihihit! Gehehet- aha- gehehet yohohour clahahahaws off mehehe!ā
āOh?ā
Fuck.
āWhatās this?ā
The claws dragged across his mid section and he shrieked. And, what would be his demise, words fell from his lips heād do anything to take back.
āFUCK! Nohoho! Stohohop! Plehease! It tickles! STOP!ā
āIs that begging I hear?ā The deer snarled followed by a smug chuckle. āNot exactly what I had in mind but a true overlord knows how to seize an opportunity.ā
"No no no no no-" Lucifer stammered.
Alastor's claws began wiggling at his sides, intentionally tickling this time, and by God was it effective.
Lucifer genuinely squealed and burst into hysterical giggles. He rapidly kicked his feet and tossed his head back and forth as he tugged helplessly at his wrists.
"Well, look at that. The king of Hell, the fallen archangel, helpless and begging from something as childish as tickling."
Alastor's insanely pointy and unfairly ticklish claws crawled up his torso.
Again, words tumbled out without a thought.
"NOHO! Nohohot my pihihits! Ahahanywhere but thehehere, plehehehease! Ihihihi'm tohohoo tihihicklish thehehere! Ihihihi'll dihihie!"
Alastor threw his head back and cackled.
"How pathetic! Pleading and outing your own weakness in one go. You really should be more careful, your lowness. Any demon worth their soul would know where to target next."
Lucifer was desperately yanking on his arms to try and cover his weak spot. Any time Lilith had even gently tickled him there before he'd absolutely fallen apart.
Fuck, how STUPID his brain was to say that.
His arms yanked and pulled as Alastor's claws closed in. As soon as they even rested at the sensitive spot Lucifer let out a loud high-pitched shriek.
"AHA! No! Plehehehease dohohohon't!"
Alastor's grin looked more genuine than ever, borderline giddy.
He let out a low rumbling chuckle.
"Tickle, tickle." He spoke so softly yet so tauntingly.
The moment those claws began wriggling into his underarms, Lucifer screamed. His back arched against the wall and powerful cackling ripped itself from his vocal cords.
Tears began streaming down his cheeks. Fuck, this wasn't FAIR! Lucifer might've actually PREFERRED the claws to break skin rather than harmlessly stimulate his ticklish nerves.
"I would much prefer screams of agony or despair, but I suppose if you truly are invulnerable, screams of laughter will have to appease me for now. At the end of the day, it still signifies the same thing." Alastor leaned in and huffed warm air across the angel's neck, eliciting a squeal in between peals of laughter. "Pure, raw, helplessness."
Then that fucking deer opened his mouth and chomped his pointed teeth onto Lucifer's neck.
The absolute shock of ticklish energy cause Lucifer to scream at a horribly high pitch, making even Alastor flinch back. With the maddening sensation across his underarms and his neck, his wings flashed out from his back and began flapping wildly from the stimulation.
"Ha-HA! You really are losing your mind, aren't you? To a few itty bitty tickles? What a pitiful display."
Alastor's claws doubled their speed and at that point it went from 'just on this side of bearable' to 'HOLY SHIT GET ME OUT OF HERE' and his angelic grace heeded its master.
In a flash of blinding light, Alastor, his tentacles, the bookshelf next to them, and the fucking wall were all blasted ten feet away with an angelic burst of energy.
Lucifer, unaware his magic was going to do that involuntarily, was wholly unprepared and managed to trip over his own wing and collapse into the crater on the floor, hugging himself tight as he rode out a debilitating fit of giggles.
Past the settling of dust and a lamp teetering over and shattering, Lucifer heard that damn radio voice again, cackling at his expense.
"HA! You literally exploded from laughter!" That stupid voice got closer until it was standing over him. "I understand being ticklish could be seen as a weakness but yours takes the cake, your lowness. What a show!" He cracked up into laughter again.
Lucifer forced down the last of the remaining giggles and pulled himself onto his feet at his full height, still much shorter than the fucking deer.
"Alright, Bambi." The angel snarled. He snapped his fingers and golden shackles appeared and clamped over Alastor's wrists before yanking him to the floor.
Lucifer stood above the radio demon with a grin to match.
