mystey-here

[mystey-here]

reblog if you really want tkls but don't know how to ask

[mystey-here]

RAHHHHHH IM LOSIMG IT ART TWONPART TWO PART TWL

So, you got Detention

@berrys-hide-out Hey Berry, I hope reading this cheers you up a little, hope you like it <3. @cantsaythetword I didn't forget to tag you, here you go :)

Summary: Getting detention sucks. Getting detention for something you haven't done sucks even more. Getting detention and getting scolded through a Captain America PSA for something you haven't done and going home to have said man looking at you disappointedly is the bad-tasting cheery on top that Peter didn't need on this absolute disaster of a Monday. At least he gets the satisfaction of telling the rest of the team about Cap's PSAs. That's going to be fun.

Read on Ao3

"Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you," sings Peter softly before his face turns into a grimace. "I'm never getting this song out of my head now. Thanks for that, Ned," mutters the teen without any bite, stepping out of the subway station. Despite Rick Astley uninvitedly declaring his love inside Peter's head, his lip twitched upwards for the first time today. He was glad to be finally heading to the Avengers Tower. Peter was ready to lock himself into the lab with Mr. Stark and ask the man what they would work on today. Him needing to bring distance between himself and the rest of the world doesn't come off as much of a surprise, taking into account that today had sucked until now. Immensely. At least in Mr. Stark's lab, nothing could get on his nerves, breaking the continuation of a bleak day. 

It began with oversleeping. 

The shrill sound of the alarm had cruelly torn Peter out of a dreamless slumber, and with a soft moan, the still sleep-drunk teen had aimlessly patted for the clock to end the obnoxious sound. As soon as silence had fallen over the bedroom, Peter's eyelids dropped, and although telling himself that it would just be five more minutes of lying down, he promptly fell asleep again. If Spiderman had stuck to his curfew and not exploited his aunt working overtime, there might be a chance getting to school late could have been avoided. When Peter woke the second time, tiredly checking his mobile phone, he sprung up in shock as he caught the time. Twenty minutes before the bell would ring. With no time for breakfast, he had washed up as quickly as he could, shoved the next best sweater and jeans he could find into his backpack, and sprinted out of the apartment. Peter usually avoided swinging to school, but drastic times called for drastic measures. He just hoped there wouldn't be any posts or articles of people wondering what Spiderman was doing, swinging this early in the morning cause that always prompted a rather unwelcome interview with Mr. Stark, or worse, Aunt May. 

In his hurry to get to school on time, the boy had packed the wrong folder, thus having to scribble the history homework onto a paper two minutes before classes started. MJ had caught him sitting on the floor before the classroom, rushing to copy Ned's answers as if his life depended on it. She had pulled up an eyebrow before rolling her eyes. The girl didn't have to say anything for Peter's ears to grow red, embarrassed to look this unprepared in front of their decathlon team captain. Classes were relatively uneventful. Well, apart from the Spanish vocabulary test that Peter might have forgotten. Luckily, he could answer everything, although the boy was sure he spelled at least two words wrong. At lunch, Peter had felt the aftereffect of not eating breakfast as his stomach was rebelling, threatening to start eating itself from the sounds of it. The teen swore he could eat at least three portions until he had seen what they served today. To clarify, Peter isn't a picky eater. At all. Living years with Aunt Mays cocking trained him into trying everything deemed edible, and the hunger did the rest. But today, out of all days, the cafeteria ladies decided to let their presumable hate for the students show in the manifestation of the most disgusting-looking meatballs the boy had ever seen.

"Are those capers?" 

Ned had glanced from his fork, where a with sauce dripping green ball of something pierced on, over to Peter, who, in return, squinted down onto his plate. He pushed the greens covered in watered-down sauce with his fork around before looking at his best friend with a frown.

"Could be. But to be honest, I don't really wanna find out."

The food had tasted just as it looked, and Peter was glad he was enhanced because he was sure if that weren't the case, he would have gotten food poisoning. How Ned got the funny-tasting excuses for a meal down was still a mystery to him. Having no money to buy something else to eat and knowing that his metabolism wouldn't let him go on without eating, Peter hadn't had much of a choice other than to force the stuff down his throat. 

"If I don't show up to school tomorrow, you know what has happened to me," Ned had said with a slightly pained expression as he pushed his empty plate away to put a safety distance between himself and his lunch.

"Same," agreed Peter as he stood up. He had thrown a look at the leftovers, suppressing a shudder as he collected the food tray. They quickly left the cafeteria and the traumatic lunch experience the place brought with it behind. On their way to biology class, Peter had hope that this was the point where his day would finally turn, where it would start getting better. But of course, no day at school could end without Flash strutting up to them, holding onto the need to be insufferable. Flash had been making a beeline for Peter. The intent to bump his shoulder into Peter had been painfully obvious. Flash's nearing presence had sent Peter's spider-sense off, and it took the vigilante some willpower to let the impact happen. 

"What, not apologizing for blocking the hall with your stupid face, Parker?"

Not wanting the situation to escalate, Peter tried to overlook the provocation. He wasn't looking forward to a confrontation, minding his business and continuing walking away when Ned whispered. "Don't mind him. Flash probably ate one too many of those meatballs and now feels like crap." Peter was aware that his friend only meant to lighten up the mood. He couldn't help heaving a sigh when their classmate turned around with an icy glare. "What did you say about me, Fatty?" 

Apparently, Neds whispering had not been as quiet as intended. Flash had snarled, hand reaching out to grab Ned's collar but grasped at nothing as Peter anticipated the action and pulled his friend out of reach. He had shoved himself between the two and tried to calm Flash down when the teen grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him closer. 

"Listen, Parker, one more word from your friend and I-" The rest of his threat had gotten cut off by the booming voice of Mrs. Warren echoing through the hallway, causing the students standing near her to jump at the sound.

"Parker, Thompson! Detention!"

"Fuck you, Parker."

With a glare, Flash had let go of him and stomped away under the watchful eye of Mrs. Warren. Ned had turned wide-eyed to his friend, carefully laying his hand on Peter's arm where Flash had grabbed him.

"Are you hurt? Peter, I'm so sorry, you shouldn't get detention because of me. I'll talk to Mrs. Warren."

Peter had pulled Ned back with a tired sigh. "Don't bother, Ned. You know Mrs. Warren won't change her mind. She's not exactly my biggest fan. I'll message Mr. Stark that I'm going to be late."

Ned was quick to protest. " But you did nothing wrong! Dude, that's just not fair!"

"It's alright, Ned. It's only detention. It won't be too bad."

By the time Peter finally got to step out of the building, he felt the urge to shake his head at his naivety. Detention had been downright awful. The second the supervising teacher had rolled in the antic tube television, Peter had an odd foreboding of what would come. The old device had flickered to life, and the speaker began playing with a static noise that made Peter wince inwardly. Peter swears he could see Mr. Stark before his inner getting an aneurysm at the sight and sound of their school equipment. Peter had ignored the burning pair of eyes trying to bore into the back of his head, courtesy of Flash, the latter trying to get his attention by calling him names but got told off by their teacher quickly. Peter had also noticed the lack of MJ, who chose today out of all days, not bothering to sketch someone's questioning of their life choices, and maybe detention would have been a tiny bit less terrible with her in the classroom. His eyes had flipped back to the TV, where a star-spangled, all too familiar-looking man sat down on a chair and began talking. 

"So, your body is changing. Believe me. I know how that feels."

Peter had sunk deeper into his chair with a groan, the need to bid his lunch goodbye stronger than ever. Sixty painful minutes of unwanted advice from America's most popular and still living icon later, Peter is on his way to the Tower when his mobile phone vibrates inside his jeans pocket, Ned's name greeting him on the display.

"Hey, Peter. I'm still really sorry for earlier. But look what I found! This article is about Spiderman!"

Peter was glad his headphones were on as he clicked on the link Ned had sent him, as Never Gonna Give You Up blasts into his ears. It took him a few seconds as he stared down at his mobile phone, where the singer cheerfully danced behind his microphone, only for him to realize what happened. A surprised chuckle makes it out of his mouth as Peter holds his mobile phone up and whispers, "Dude, did you just rickroll me?". The grin was evident in his voice before he sent the audio message. It doesn't take Ned a minute to answer with a series of laugh emojis. Peter continuously chats with Ned on his way, his Spidey sense keeping him from bumping into anyone during the bustle on Manhattan's sidewalks. 

Despite being late, there is the hint of a smile tugging Peter's lips upwards as he steps out of the elevator, amused about something Ned had written. Someone clears their throat, and Peter startles at the sound, quickly using his stickiness to catch his phone. The device dangles from the tip of his ring finger while Peter wonders why he has not felt their presence when a pair of familiar black dress shoes comes into view. Realization washes over Peter at their sight, the owner the only other person apart from his aunt, that his spidey sense doesn't go off to. 

"Hey, Mr. Stark," greets Peter and puts on a polite smile as he takes in the frown displayed on his mentor's face. Maybe he should have written more than, "Hi, Mr. Stark. I'm going to be late. Happy doesn't have to drive me." 

Peter's smile must have looked as forced as it felt by the look Mr. Stark gave him in return. The man stays quiet as Peter walks past him towards the guest room to put his backpack away. Walking into the living room, the teen gets greeted by the rest of the Avengers lingering around. Peter makes a beeline towards the couch where Clint is sitting, hoping to avoid the confrontation with his mentor just a little longer.

"Hey, Pete. How was school?"

"Please don't ask," mumbles Peter, taking a pillow to hug it while he sinks further into the cushions, trying to be one with the furniture. He leans his head back and stares at the ceiling while Clint chuckles next to him. "That bad, huh?" asks the man, and Peter hums. He closes his eyes, relishing that he finally gets to rest when the sound of footsteps grows closer before halting in front of the couch. Peter suppresses a sigh.  

"Care to explain why you happen to be late?" Mr. Stark doesn't sound too bothered, which Peter takes as a good sign. He ponders if he liked Mr. Stark better when the man had been more indifferent but quickly pushes that thought into the back of his mind. Mr. Stark is just worried. But still, Peter didn't like the curiosity and concern in the older man's voice, the tone making him feel like a little kid getting scolded. The boy hugs the pillow closer, successfully muffling his voice by pressing it against his face. He really wasn't in the mood for this kind of conversation. Pushing his face deeper into the pillow, he grumbles, "I had detention."

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that, Spiderling."

Peter is pretty sure Mr. Stark did catch that. Something cold presses against his forehead, the only part of his face not hidden behind the pillow. Peter peeks from under it up to Natasha, who holds a can of Coca-Cola above him, a tiny smile on her lips. She nodded toward Stark with a reassuring smile, and Peter felt a bit better, knowing someone was there to step in if Mr. Stark became too overbearing. Taking the drink from her, the teen sat up properly and put the pillow down, facing his mentor.

"I hung out with Deadpool after school," he deadpanned, his last attempt to stir away from the topic. Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, sending a side eye at Clint, who dared to snicker at the kid's comment.

"Funny kid, but just to let you know, I have a pretty little monitor in the lab telling me that you haven't left the school building until twenty-five minutes ago. Oh, and I hope for my and your aunt's sanity that you haven't been around Deadpool without at least a ten-mile distance between you two. That man is a nutcase, Peter."

Ignoring the jab at the merc with a mouth and Peter's secret "Thursday is taco-day" partner, he raises an eyebrow. "Should I file a police report for stalking, Mr. Stark?"

"Kid, I don't need two spies and Snowflake around knowing you are deflecting. Now, out with it. Why were you late?"

Peter picked up on the silence around, aware that, by now, everyone in the room and the kitchen were probably listening in. A little embarrassed by the attention, the teen's eyes wander toward his lap, where he absentmindedly fiddles with his web shooters, a sense of shyness overcoming him.  

"I had detention," he repeats, a little timid.

The silence only lasts a few seconds.

"Ouch, detention. I knew there had to be something about you, man. No one can be such a goody-two-shoes all the time," teases Sam with a smile, patting Peter's shoulder as he walks past to sit next to Bucky. Peter's lip twitched at the comment, relief flooding him when he looked around and saw no one looking disappointed. Catching Mr. Stark studying him, Peter fumbles with his web shooters again. Although the man didn't seem mad, the way he was looking at him made Peter nervous. Before the teen knew what was happening, he was already throwing a lengthy explanation the man's way, a sudden flood of words hastily chained together to form a somewhat coherent report of what had happened.

"Those meatballs were seriously bad, Mr. Stark. It reminded me of the time you made me try oysters. I'm not sure if I should ever forgive you for that, by the way. That had been kinda traumatic." Peter was painfully aware he was full-on rambling at this point, but Mr. Stark silently listening was unnerving him greatly, so he pushed on, eyes everywhere except Mr. Stark. 

"Flash walked up to us and tried picking a fight. I just wanted to go and ignore him, seriously Mr. Stark, I didn't even look at him, but then Ned said something about Flash feeling crappy cause of those meatballs, and it was a joke, but Flash heard it, and he was going to grab Ned by the collar." 

Peter goes on, and by the looks Bruce and Rhodey are throwing him, he should probably take a second to breathe before freaking out the adults in the room. But Peter couldn't waste time caring about who he was freaking out because he was going to freak if not managing to make Mr. Stark understand that he didn't get detention on purpose. 

"I put myself between them when Flash grabbed me instead when Mrs. Warren came by. She saw us in the hallway and gave us detention."

"Hold on," says Sam, sitting up as he looks at Peter, wearing an incredulous expression. "You've got detention 'cause you avoided your friend getting roughed up by that Flash kid? Is that what I'm getting?"

Before Peter could answer him, Mr. Stark had already his Stark phone out. "I knew that Flash kid meant trouble. That's it. I'm going to get that gremlin expelled."

"Wait, you can't do that, Mr. Stark!"

The man raises an eyebrow, and Peter backpedals quickly. "Okay, you could, but please, you don't have to. He didn't hurt anyone, and it's only detention!"

"He was about to hit your friend, Peter," comments Clint, and Peter did not doubt if Mr. Stark wasn't about to call his school, then the archer would be the one to do it. Clint could get weirdly protective at the most random times.

"He does dumb stuff, yes, but if you expel him, it could get him in serious trouble. I know he has problems at home, and getting expelled isn't the solution." By the pointed look he's receiving from several of the Avengers, Peter had a hunch that his arguments weren't cutting it. He needs to pull out the big guns. The teen leaned forward and looked up to Mr. Stark with the saddest puppy dog eyes he could muster. "Please, Mr. Stark. Don't call the school."

If he hadn't been panicking about Mr. Stark trying to expel his classmate, Peter would have found it funny how quickly the hero calling himself Iron Man crumbled. Tony rolls his eyes with an excessive sigh passing his lips as he pockets his Stark Phone. "Next time that hooligan starts something, I will have him expelled faster than you can say, Mr. Stark, got it?"

Peter grins at his mentor. "Got it, Mr. Stark," he chirps back, leaning back into the couch and feeling content for the first time that day. He catches onto the amused glances the others send him and Mr. Starks way. 

"So, how many pizzas should I order?" asks Rhodey, the man successfully breaking the silence. With the promise of Pizza and the knowledge that no one minded him getting detention, Peter takes out his phone to text Ned, the smile from before back on his lips. He looks up, feeling someone looking at him, and meets Bucky's eyes. 

"Still can't believe they give you detention without clearing up the situation," says the man, crossing his arms over his chest, a sour expression on his face. Peter was about to tell Bucky that it was alright, honestly touched that the man got bothered on his behalf when Captain America chose that moment to walk in. A groan builds up in his throat as the man settles next to Bucky. Steve's brows are furrowed in concern as he glances around the room, lines on his forehead deepening before his eyes turn to the teen. It takes only a second for Peter to guess that Steve had only picked up the detention part of the conversation.

"You've got detention?"

Steve says it so seriously it makes Peter want to throw the pillow at something. Or someone. Too tired to retell the event, Peter merely shrugs his shoulders. "It wasn't that bad."

He had hoped they would leave it at that, but who was he kidding? He's talking about Steve Rogers, after all. Peter's good mood starts deflating when Steve puts on his disappointed Captain America face.

"You're a good kid, Peter. You shouldn't get in trouble." 

The teen's expression turns sour at Steve's comment.

"Steve, leave him alone," begins Bucky, frowning at his friend and leaning forward to intervene when the teen sinks into his seat with a low groan. Tony shoots him a worried glance. "What's wrong, Pete?"

Peter ignores the question in favor of sending Steve a glare. Steve dared to look baffled by the look sent his way. If today hadn't been so bad, Peter wouldn't even consider rolling his eyes at Steve, but now he couldn't be bothered to be polite to Captain Popsicle. "I had to listen to your lectures for sixty minutes today, Steve. Sixty. Minutes. I think I had my fill, so please don't bother starting another lecture about what is right and wrong if you don't even know what happened!"

Mr. Stark looks highly amused, not bothering to stop Peter from throwing his sass at Steve, which the teen usually kept for being alone with him in the lab, not often showing it in front of the rest of the team. Bruce raises an eyebrow, head slightly tilted in question. "Peter, Steve had been here all day while you were in school. When should he have lectured you?"

"He wasn't, but I had to listen to his PSA during detention, and I don't feel like hearing more now," answers the teen with something that might, under some circumstances, resemble a pout. Not that Peter would be pouting in front of the Avengers.

"PSA?" asks Clint while Bucky carries a thoughtful look before glancing at the blond sitting next to him.

"You shot PSAs? They still do these?"

Taking in all the puzzled faces around them, Peter quickly realized something that filled his inside with nothing but delight. It was like someone turned a switch, the not-pout on the teen's face morphing into a grin bright enough to lighten the room while Steve's face darkened with every new question asked, their expression the complete opposite of each other. 

"They don't know," whispered Peter under his breath, eyes locked on Steve. He lets out a surprised laugh, a grin wider than ever. 

"Oh my god, Steve, they don't know!"

He sits upright, the tiredness completely wiped off him as he beams at the blond, eyes gleaming with mischief rivaling Loki.

"Peter," says Steve slowly, the warning heavy in the undertone of his voice. Said warning meets deaf ears, Peter not even thinking about stopping any time soon. He had felt like crap the whole day. Nothing went his way, and Peter knows that that's not on Steve. But having to listen to Captain America's lecture when he did nothing wrong only for the man himself to assume that he did something the second someone uses the word detention in context with Peter without giving him a chance to explain rubbed him the wrong way. The teen isn't a fan of revenge and retaliation and holding grudges, but today, Peter felt petty. If Steve thought he could spoil the rest of the day after school had been that bad already, then he could buckle up. Peter knows his behavior is childish and petty, traits no one would connect with Spiderman, but the teen isn't Spiderman right now. He is Peter Parker, a feeling wronged fifteen-year-old who holds the perfect blackmail material of the person who wronged him in his young, inhumanly sticky hands.

"So," begins Peter in the most serious voice he could muster, giving it his best Captain America impersonation. The way Steve's expression contorted into a grimace was worth it. "you got detention."

"I give you one chance to stop, Peter," warned Steve, eyes narrowed dangerously. Peter only grins wider at that, having way too much fun rilling the blond up while the others could only share confused glances.

"Something tells me this goes over my head," stage whispers Clint. 

"Doesn't everything?" shoots Sam at him simultaneously as Tony throws a, "Nothing new, then."

"Harsh," says Clint, rubbing his chest in mock hurt, causing the others to chuckle. "But back to Spider-kid and Cap, does anyone know what those two are on about?"

Choruses of no clue and a beat from Rhodey are all he gets before all eyes are on the pair, who are now challenging in a silent stare-off. Peter leaned forward, openly enjoying teasing the older man. Steve is ready to jump at him by the looks of it, but Peter isn't intimidated in the slightest, knowing he could outrun the older man. "You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong. The question is, how are you gonna make things right?"

Peter's grin widens at the same time Steve narrows his eyes. 

"Last warning, Pete."

The blond raises his eyebrows, caught off guard when the teen leans back into his seat. He watches with surprise how Peter fishes his phone out of his pocket, taking a short glance at it before calmly placing it on the coffee table. 

"Okay, I'll stop here," says Peter mercifully, stretching as he stands up and walks towards the kitchen. The blond's eyes follow the teen's movement, and Sam snickers how his friend's body deflates at the tension vacating his shoulders, amused by the power a teenager holds over Steve's head.

"Oh, by the way, Steve," Steve's heads shoot up at the tone in Peter's voice. He locks eyes with the teen, who wears the cheekiest grin any of the Avengers ever had seen him carry as he beams at the man.

"Maybe you were trying to be cool. But take it from a guy who's been frozen for 65 years... The only way to be cool is to follow the rules."

Peter's grin was about to reach his eyes. He couldn't help himself. 

"Are you following the rules, Steve?"

In hindsight, Peter should have anticipated that the super soldier wouldn't let go of it without some retaliation. It had been too much fun to watch the man's patience thinning than to think what the outcome of that scenario would mean for Peter. He ducks at the same time his Spidey sense peaks, blocking the pillow flung at him just in time. The low buzz had begun to surr in his ear since he started teasing Steve and was growing into a shrill ringing when the man got up from his seat incredibly fast. Peter turns around while stepping out of reach, avoiding the hands reaching for him by vaulting over the couch, including Clint. 

"Hey, no jumping over my furniture!" scolds Mr. Stark, but the crinkling of skin around his eyes betrays the stern act as he watches his mentee chased by Cap, wearing a grin on his face. 

"Sorry, Mr. Stark!" 

The sincerity of the apology suffers under the smile lying in his voice. 

Peter stands still, eyes not leaving Steve, who hovers on the other side of the couch, waiting for him to move. Despite focusing on the blond, Peter catches onto the excitement in the room, their little chase entertaining the others immensely, followed by the cheering they receive from the rest. The whole situation was so silly. Peter couldn't help but laugh when he feinted a step to the side, causing Steve to flinch as the man was ready to pounce but narrowing his eyes as he caught on Peter trying to fool him. He couldn't wait to tell Ned that he had teased Captain America, the thought alone bringing a grin about to split his face. 

The excitement in the room only increases, so much that Peter doesn't notice the new presence of a person before nearly bumping into them. Thanks to his sixth sense, he barely keeps from barreling into Mrs. Potts. He comes to an abrupt halt despite wearing socks, only possible thanks to his stickiness. Pepper holds a hand over her heart, the surprise written all over her face when Steve takes the chance of Peter not paying attention. The last thing Peter catches is Pepper's green eyes widening, her mouth forming a silent o before something slams into him at full speed, turning the world upside down. 

"Whoa, careful Steve. I don't want squished spiders on my clothes."

Clint scowls playfully at the blond, who ignores him in favor of wrestling with a laughing teen on the couch. The archer rolls his eyes at being ignored and points his thumb at the pair.

"Children. It's like herding cats." He snorts at the sight of Peter with his back pressed into the couch, one foot pressed against the super soldier's chest, and pushing the 240-pound weight off of him without much difficulty. "So, your body is changing," begins Peter, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face despite Steve looming above him, looking ready to throw him out of the next window. The blond reaches out to cover Peter's mouth to block more parts of his most embarrassing PSA coming out of the teen, the panic in his eyes causing Peter to break out into laughter. Steve narrows his eyes at the laughing teen, who half-heartedly shoves him off of him. 

"Can someone please tell me what is going on here?"

Peter perks up at Mrs. Pott's question, glancing at Steve with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, I was just about to tell the rest about Mr. Roger's PSAs, Mrs. Potts," he chirps, ever so helpful. He was about to elaborate when Steve finally managed to clap his hand over Peter's mouth, successfully shutting him up.

"Noo, why did you turn him off?" complains Sam with faked disappointment. "It was just about to get interesting."

"Since when do you believe anything Peter tells you?" counters Steve, struggling to hold the teen down and keep him from spilling another word. Despite Peter's small size, the teen was powerful. Steve needed to trap him in a hold, somewhat resembling an uncomfortable back hug, to keep a hand over his mouth, but the teen with his freaky flexibility didn't even seem too bothered. 

"Well, the kid can be very persuasive. And he did sound like he had something important to tell us. Isn't that right, Peter?"

Peter nods vigorously despite the hand still covering his mouth. They watch the teen worming an arm out of Steve's bear hug, tugging on the hand that kept him from talking. Sam grinned as he observed Steve's face fall at the ease Peter pulled his hand away. The older man tried reclaiming the position, but the teen had it in a tight hold, successfully keeping him from putting his hand back on his mouth. Peter grabs Steve's other wrist and pushes the man's arms away, wriggling out of the hold. A bright grin adorns the teen's face as he pushes Steve away, who is back on his heels in a second. Peter jumped off the couch as a hand seized his leg, causing him to fall over. Several surprised gasps could be heard, along with a rather colorful curse directed at Steve from Tony as Peter catches himself, keeping from faceplanting into Mr. Stark's pristine white living room floor. In contrast to the glares Steve receives at the rash action, Peter openly cackles as Steve tries pulling him back by his leg.

"There is a perfectly equipped gym two floors down, and they decide to do this here?"

"Don't be harsh on them, Tony. They seem to be having fun," appeases Pepper, surprisingly one of the few people along with Bucky and Natasha who weren't shocked by seeing Peter fall. 

"Where does that look like having fun?" He asks, but one look at his mentee's face tells him his fiance was right. The kid is enjoying himself.

Meanwhile, Peter plants his palms on the floor, his upper body hanging off the couch. He sticks onto the tiles, sticking one hand down at a time, and crawls away while Steve still holds onto one of his legs. He keeps moving forward, laughing at the strained huff Steve lets out as he avoids Peter's free foot from kicking him in the stomach. The super soldier bats the flailing limp away, shortly loosening his hold on the teen's leg, which the latter quickly uses as a chance to create some leeway. 

He doesn't get very far.

"No!" shouts Peter as a hand wraps around his ankle and pulls him back half a meter. "Sam! Bucky! Help!" pleads the teen half-heartedly, reaching out for the two men sitting on the opposite couch.

"What do you say, Buck? Do we help the munchkin?"

"I know Steve long enough not to interfere when he gets like that. Punk is a mad dog when he throws a fit. Sorry, kid, you're on your own."

Peter is about to give the men a piece of his mind when he gets pulled another good amount of inches back before he gets back to stick on the floor. He crawls away again, but Steve has none of it and reaches for the teen's other ankle. Thanks to his spidey sense, Peter avoids the grip by turning on his side, but it causes him to roll further towards the couch than away from it. Steve quickly takes the opportunity to reach down and hook his hand under the teen's side, attempting to heave Peter off the ground. The teen twists in his hold, and Steve curls his fingers into Peter to keep a hold of him when an honest-to-good squeal escapes the teen.

An eerie silence hangs over the room, no one daring to speak as Steve stares at the frozen teen in his hold who avoids meeting his face as best as he can, but he catches onto the reddened tips of his ears. Steve's lip twitched knowingly. He knows that kind of reaction. He squeezes his hand abruptly, lips forming into a grin as the body on the floor jumps like a fish on land at the action.

"Oho," says Clint, sounding way too gleeful, the first to break the silence, having watched the silent realization come over Steve with amusement. 

"What a way to reveal your secret, kid. At least I won't have to keep this to myself anymore," comments Tony with a grin.

Now was Steve's turn, carrying a mischievous grin.

"A secret? What kind of secret could that be, Peter? You like sharing information. How about you enlighten us about this, huh?"

Peter feels his heart jump at the tone in Steve's voice. He kind of regrets having made fun of the man. Peter begins crawling again, but this time with more vigor than before. He doesn't get very far as Steve instantly pulls him back but meets resistance as the teen sticks to the ground. The problem resolves itself quickly as Steve releases one of Peter's legs to reach forward and claw at the teen's ribs. With a shriek, Peter's left hand unsticks, arm shooting down to protect his side. Steve's hand darts to the teen's other side, repeating the procedure and efficiently getting the teen off the ground. From there on, it was easy to throw the already laughing boy back onto the couch. 

Never one to back down quickly, Peter instantly tries climbing over the couch, but an arm sneaks around his middle and prevents him from escaping. He tries reaching for the backrest, but a hand worms its way into his underarm, and every attempt to reach his arm out to grasp something becomes futile. He quickly gets pushed down, back pressed into the couch cushion as Steve looms over him for a second time that day, but this time, Peter could crawl out of his skin at the grin on the older man's face.

"Dohon't do this," says Peter, voice void of any conviction as nervous giggles accompany his words. Not knowing what to do with his hands, the teen awkwardly holds them in front of him, half shielding his upper body and half waiting to catch any hands that were about to attack. Steve watches with growing amusement how the boy's eyes jump from his face to his hands and back as if he were unsure what was more important to keep track of. He had never seen such an amount of nervous energy radiating from the teen. It was adorable to see him this unnerved about something harmless as this.

"This? What do you mean, Peter? Is this about the secret Tony mentioned?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. I don't have any secrets. Apart from being Spiderman, I mean," Peter stumbles over his words, lips twitching upwards when Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "No secrets to share, no information to keep. I have nothing to hide, so you can let me go. Please?"

Steve turns towards Clint, who hasn't moved an inch, even with the literal wrestling match happening on the seats next to him. "What do you say, Clint? Does he tell the truth?"

Peter throws a pleading look towards the archer. Clint grins at the pair.

"You see that face," he asks, pointing at the teen. "As a spy and a father, I can tell you that's the face of a liar."

"That's not true!" protests Peter as Steve turns back to him. Catching onto the look the man bestows on him, Peter snatches the next best thing he can get his hands on, a decorative pillow, and uses it to shield himself, a giant grin about to split his face. Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Seems like I have to get the truth out of you."

"Noho!" shouts Peter with a laugh as Steve pulls at the pillow. Nervous giggles are pouring out of him as he tries to make himself as small as possible, and it is faint, but Steve's enhanced hearing could pick up on the wild pace of the kid's heart beating. 

"Let go of the shield, Spiderman," commands Steve, eyes gleaming playfully at the boy.

"In your dreams," says Peter, only fastening his hold onto the pillow, the only thing keeping him safe from the fingers getting closer. Steve catches a movement out of the corner of his eyes, lips twitching ever so slightly. He focuses back on Peter, the boy watching him with his whole attention, unaware of the hands reaching for his feet. A shriek escapes the vigilante, eyes widening at the feel of blunt nails running over his socked soles, causing him to flinch and pull his legs up at the ticklish feeling. Steve uses the moment of surprise to tear the pillow out of Peter's hand, depriving him of the last thing to shield himself from his attack.

"Thanks, Clint."

"No problem, Cap."

Peter sends a glare Clint's way, but the archer only needs to reach for his feet for the teen to let the glare turn into a panicked grin, quickly tucking his legs close. "That's what I thought," says Clint with a smug grin. Steve uses the moment of inattention, poking the teen's stomach in quick succession. The reaction didn't disappoint.

"Hey! Stohop it!"

Peter tries glaring at the blond while his hand fails to catch the poking fingers, jumping when one poke lands dangerously close to his lower rip. The motion doesn't go unnoticed by the soldiers' trained eyes, a sly smirk forming on the man's face. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Yehehehes! Stahahap pokehihing me!" complains Peter, but it was hard to take the teen seriously with the constant giggling. Steve does stop at that. 

"Alright, I'll stop. Would you prefer this instead?" 

He skitters his fingers over the teen's stomach, grinning at the squeal escaping Peter before he tries curling on himself, hysterical giggles pouring out of him, unaware that the sound causes amused smiles to appear on every face in the room. 

"Nahaha, gehehet your hahahands of mehehe," Peter manages to bring out between his laughter as he twists on his side, addressing the others.

"Sohohomebody hehelp!"

"Anyone here knows who that somebody is he's talking about?" asks Sam, feigning ignorance.

"I hahahete you, Bihihirdman 2!"

"Yeah, I can't take anything you say seriously giggle-bug."

Peter is about to counter, but a set of fingers dug into the part where his ribs and upper back meet, sending a ticklish shock throughout his body. He jumps at the touch, and Steve latches onto the reaction, taking both hands to claw at his ribcage and digging his fingers in on the search for that spot. Peter's giggles had long ago turned into bright laughter, now accompanied by an occasional shriek and a whole-body jump as Steve found what he'd been searching for. 

"Oh, what's this?" he asks, voice full of glee.

"NOHOHOTHING, IT'S NOTHINIHIN!"

"Something tells me you're onto something, Cap," comments Rhodey with a grin, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, amusement written all over his face. 

Peter shakes his head at the words, chanting "Stopstopstopstohohooop," while trying to catch the hands that are way too skillful in sending ticklish sparks under his skin, leaving him in stitches. "Why? Is this the spot I have to go to to get you to tell me about your secret? Although I think I can already guess what it is."

Steve grins down at Peter who tries so hard to scowl at him but fails miserably. It leaves the man wondering where all the strength has gone, and while the idea of tickling being Spiderman's big-bad weakness sounds fun, Steve knows for the better that this couldn't be the reason for the teen's failure to escape. 

"OH MY GOHOHOHOD, NOHOHO!" Peter kicks his legs, wriggling from side to side and throwing his head back when Steve finds a way to slip his hands into his underarms. He presses his arms down, quickly rendering Steve's fingers immobile, but the feeling of them simply touching his armpits tickled like mad. 

"Peter, I kinda need my hands back, or we're stuck here until tomorrow," teases Steve, amused when the boy shakes his head with a giant grin. 

"Buck, a little help here?"

The other man huffs a small laugh. "You're seriously stuck?"

Steve grins at him. "I can't move a single finger."

With a shake of his head, Bucky makes his way over to the couch. He assesses the situation before glancing at Peter, the latter trying to catch his breath. Without a word, Bucky clasps both hands on Peter's thighs just over the kneecap, squeezing and massaging his thumb into the muscle. Peter kicked like mad at the action, breaking into loud belly laughter, and Steve could pull his hands away as the teen was busy twisting and wriggling, trying anything to get Bucky's hands off his knees. 

"How did you know that would work?" asks Sam, impressed, as Bucky walks back to sit on the couch as if nothing had happened. Bucky shrugs. "It works on Steve," he answers cooly, but with a smirk playing on his face. Steve glares at him but quickly focuses on Peter, who uses the moment to try crawling in the other direction of the couch. Clint only watches with amusement as he has a lap full of enhanced teen trying to crawl over him as if that was your normal Monday afternoon thing, only to get caught by the shoulder and get dragged back. 

"We're not done yet, Queens."

"Steheheheve, pleaahahse. I cahanah't tahahake anymhohore!" whines Peter, but Steve catches onto the playful spark glinting in his eyes. 

"Okay, I'll stop here," says Steve, mimicking Peter. "But there's one thing I'll have to tell you." The teen narrows his eyes at the blond, not trusting one word coming from Steve.

"What I tell you now is about one of the most valuable traits a student or soldier can have."

Peter's eyes widen comically. As soon as his brain registers the words, he gracelessly flails in his place. The teen tries to throw himself off the couch as he knows where this is going, but Steve, having anticipated the action, jumps forward and catches the teen around the waist. He keeps his arm wrapped around Peter's middle, hugging the teen against his chest and kneading his free hand into Peter's side without further ado.

"Nohohohot anohohother one! Steve pleahahahase! Dohohohon't do thihihhis! I-I'll goho insahahane!"

Steve keeps a stoic face despite the madly giggling and protesting fifteen-year-old half-sitting squirming in his lap, batting and pulling on the arm holding him in place. He continues his speech with his Captain America voice, causing several eyebrows to raise in amusement.

"Patience." he begins, while his hand slips under the teen's shirt, skittering his fingers over bare skin, "Sometimes, patience is the key to victory." 

Peter doesn't know if it's the teasing or the fact that Steve keeps dragging his fingers over the bare skin of his sides, but he can't help kicking his legs into the air and throwing his head back into Steve's shoulder as his whole body shakes under the force of him laughing. Steve takes advantage of Peter's head being this close as he speaks the following words right into his ear, earning him the cutest giggle he had ever heard as the teen desperately tries to scrunch his shoulder up and shield his ear from the tickly air. "Sometimes, it leads to very little, and it seems like it's not worth it, and you wonder why you waited so long for something so disappointing." 

At his last word, Steve changes his tactics and uses his free hand to poke every place he can find that Peter isn't poorly trying to protect. The boy can't do anything in his hold but giggle his head off, and Steve wonders once again why Peter doesn't escape since he certainly could until he realizes that, maybe, Peter doesn't want to escape. The thought sparks his interest, and he might as well test that theory while the opportunity's still there.

"STEHEHEHEHEHEVE! NO! Anywhere but there! Please please please, please not thihihis it's so bad. Seriously, dohon't do it! STEHEVE NOHOHO, WHY AREN'T YOHUHU LISTENIHIHIHN! AHAHAHAH NO STAHAHAHAP!"

Peter trashes in his hold as the super solider gets another chance to dig into that sweet spot between his back and rips, sending the kid into a laughing fit, face reddening as he squeezes his eyes shut, the corner wettening with tears of joy before his laughter turns silent.

"Steve, I'll think he got the message," interrupts Tony, having caught onto the change from silent laughter to coming out a tad bit breathless. Not wanting to overdo it, the blond stops the tickling but keeps his arm around the teen, afraid Peter will fall if he lets go of him. The boy hangs slack in his hold, trying to catch his breath.

"You good, Queens?" asks Steve, a little worried he might have overdone it as he carefully loosens his hold on Peter. The latter let himself slip to the side, landing with a groan on the couch. Feeling Steve's eyes on him, Peter turns his head but keeps lying on his side. He sends the man a tired grin.

"I think now I know the true meaning of patience. And ruthlessness."

With a smile, Steve reaches over and ruffles Peter's already messed-up hair. 

"You need another lecture, and you know where to find me," he jokes, smirking at the dramatic groans it earns him. 

"Yeah, no, I think I pass. You know what I would rather listen to?"

Steve raises an eyebrow in question.

Peter grins at him. 

"Some Captain America PSAs."

[mystey-here]

i always wonder why someone would say to someone like “you talk so much” or “you’re so loud” like. why? what did i do to you homie. there is no point to that other than to hurt

#personal #rant

[mystey-here]

RAHHHHHH

That no-good-first-man-on-earth

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: Alastor opens up to you (kinda). You confront him about his cane being gone, asking what happened after the early extermination attack.

Word count: (Around) 1154

Warnings: Mention of Adam dying, mention of death, mention of Al taking someone’s soul, ummm.. yes I think that’s about it!

A/N: YES I MADE IT !! the ending might be a bit rusty but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! :’)

It was a week or two after the early extermination attack. The hotel has gotten a bit more residents and attention due to Charlie and the original residents protecting hell and successfully winning. The hotel has gotten an upgrade, that’s for sure. Lucifer now approves of its looks, so that says something.

During the attack you noticed how Alastor disappeared for a while and came back when it was all over. It made you question what happened when he went up against Adam. He was fine, physically. But you noticed something in his eyes that changed. Of course, he still smiles the same as before.. but it doesn’t always seem like he wants to. But the biggest, most obvious thing you noticed is that his staff/cane is gone. Nobody really seemed to question it but it set off an alarm in your brain because, well, he always has it on him.

You’re currently sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the lobby of the hotel, when you see Alastor confidently stroll in. He gives the lobby a quick look all around to see who’s all in there. In which, right now it’s just you.

“Hello, my dear!” He says, smiling and starts walking towards you.

“I must say, it’s rare that it’s empty in this area. Peace and quiet is often something I don’t have the luxury in experiencing, especially now that the hotel has gotten the attention that Charlie desperately craved.” He laughs.

He’s now standing beside you. You look up and smile back at him.

“Yeah, I’m happy for her though. She seems very overwhelmed, you know? But in a good way.” You say.

“Mm yes, she does, doesn’t she?”

You want to bring up how he doesn’t have his cane anymore, but you don’t know exactly how he’ll react. Though, he hasn’t ever snapped at you so you think it won’t be bad. Knowing him, he’ll probably just avoid the question by saying, “that’s for me to know.” As he does whenever someone brings up why he was absent for 7 years.

“Hey, Al?” You say, looking at him.

He raises his brow in question.

“Hm? What is it, dear?” He asks.

“I have a question.. you totally don’t need to tell me but I’ve just noticed that your um.. cane? You don’t have it anymore.”

You notice as you bring it up, Alastor tenses up and smiles more, darting his eyes away from you. You can feel that this was something he didn’t think you’d bring up.

He doesn’t seem to be saying anything, so you continue. “I was just wondering.. why is that? You usually keep it on you at all times. And also I’ve noticed that you’ve been a bit different since-“ You are stopped suddenly by Alastor using his shadow magic to teleport the two of you to his room.

You are caught by surprise, looking around disoriented, but than you realize where you are.

“Uhm- Al?” You question.

You assume he took you two to his room because he didn’t want anyone to hear the conversation, so you don’t question it. Which makes sense, he doesn’t want anyone else questioning his motives.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and looks at you. “That is for me to know.” He says in a neutral tone.

Wow such a surprising statement.

“I knew you’d say that. Listen, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you.” You assure him.

He looks at you weirdly, as if he is waiting for the joke line to happen. But it doesn’t. You care for him. That’s definitely new. Sure, Alastor has friends. Or, acquaintances, as he calls it. But you seem to deeply care for him and what happened.

He isn’t sure exactly how to react. “How amusing! That’s very kind of you.” He says and chuckles. You notice something in his eyes that doesn’t align with the emotion he is trying to project.

“Alastor, I’m serious. You don’t need to put on a show for me.. I want to know the real you.” You say, looking at him.

He debates if he should continue with his charades, but knows you’ll just see past it. He never ever would be this laid-back with anyone else accusing him of “putting on a show” or accusing him of having alternative feelings. He would’ve surely taken their soul or.. well, killed them by now. But you and his relationship has always been good. You guys always chat about whatever nonsense comes to mind, he showed you around the place where he records his radio broadcasts, and even let you attended once. He always had a soft spot for you. You never had a fear of him and never liked it when Husk or other people badmouthed him. He once caught you ranting to Niffty about how much you adored him. It made him smile.

Alastor squints his eyes and thinks of what to say.

“Well, my dear. You know that no-good-first-man-on-earth? Adam, I believe his name was.” He emphasizes the word “was,” seemingly to be very happy and satisfied now that he’s dead. He laughs continues, “he used his no-good angelic waves to break in half!” He says.

You’re in shock. Not because you thought his cane was indestructible or anything. It was because he actually told you what happened. You guess he trusts you more than he lets on.

“Oh..” You look at him sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Alastor.”

“Mm, yes. Me too. But no worries, dear. I can live without it.” He says trying to cover up the fact that he cares quite a lot.

Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm trying to give him comfort. He slowly moves his head to look at your hand. He doesn’t mind one bit, in fact, he feels the complete opposite of how he usual feels when people try to touch him.

You quickly remember he doesn’t like physical touch very much, so you move to pull away.

“No.” He says quickly.

You’re confused and question what he means.

“No, what?”

Your hand on his arm felt like a new sensation he hasn’t felt before. He quickly became embarrassed of his sudden outburst decline of you not taking his hand on his arm.

Something inside him snaps and his persona cracks, and he then does something that you’ve never expect.

He hugs you.

Your heart feels warm and you have butterflies in your stomach. THE Alastor, the radio demon is hugging you. You don’t see him as those labels though. You see him as HIM.

Despite your incredible shock in what is happening, you hug him back, wrapping your arms around his suit jacket.

“I do apologize.” He mumbles while hugging you.

“You don’t have to apologize, Alastor. This is what I wanted. For you to open up.” You say softly and smile.

He doesn’t pull away yet, and you don’t mind one bit.

A/N: IM THINKING OF MAKING A PART TWO WHERE THE READER MAKES HIM ANOTHER CANE AS A SURPRISE. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!

[mystey-here]

one day i will date a guy who hates everyone except me and likes my friends. but hates everyone else. one day.

[mystey-here]

why do i always love the morally grey asshole character? WHY?

[mystey-here]

RAHHHH THIS IS SO CUTE

No Fighting Back — Hazbin Hotel

Summary: While trying to decide how else to solve their arguments in ways that don’t involve bickering & let alone violence… The king of hell, Lucifer. Makes a deal with Alastor that he quickly regrets.

Warnings: Tickling, light restraints.

Other: 1.6k words, meant to be read as PLATONIC.

Authors/Notes: Came out of my cave of not writing to make a Hazbin Hotel fic as I am very, very obsessed with Lucifer at the moment. Couldn’t find any good gifs of the both of them so its just Lucy lol. Please forgive me if it’s terribly out of character!!

—————

Lucifer sat at Husk’s bar, trying to force himself to have a drink… Since he’s a fallen angel, things deemed as “unholy” still make him feel uneasy.

Husk narrowed his eyes at hell’s king. “Well? Whats the fuckin’ hold up? You ordering a drink or not?” He questioned, even becoming impatient. Lucifer didn’t seem bothered, but he did begin to speed up his decision making.

He thought to himself… i'll just get a small drink! One with maybe… 2% alcohol? No, thats stupid, I might as well just get water. Lucifer mind was made, so he spoke up, “Oh, I think I’ll just have some iced wa—”

“Iced water is what Lucifer would say if he was scared of a little fun! but you aren’t, are you your majesty?“ Oh great, interrupted, by none other than Alastor. He could recognize that stupid radio voice from miles away.

Lucifer raised a brow when Alastor sat directly beside him. “What? We buddy buddy now?” He somewhat jokes, with also a hit of seriousness. Alastor didn’t even need to turn his head to know what he was referring to.

“Oh don’t be silly Lucifer! I am simply trying to make our darling Charlie happy, she hates it when we bicker!” The radio demon claimed innocence, his signature smile making Lucifer's blood boil.

“You make it sound like we have shared guardianship of her… whatever. Not worth debating, Husk, can you make my drink a caesar instead?”

Alastor let out an amused chuckle, “How odd, those are practically the same drink but with different names!” He grinned, in a way that made it seem like his words were intended as insults.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Yeah well, I don’t think I’d be comfortable drinking something called a ‘Bloody Mary’ Okay, you creepy ass demon?”

“But of course! That's why I ordered it!” Alastor felt success in the glare Lucifer gave, growing silent and leaving Alastor to continue their conversation.

“Anyways, I am not here to talk about you and your alcohol preferences, I was actually wondering what… ‘Other ways’ we can cure our fights! We’d hate to make darling Charlie upset…”

Lucifer’s eye twitched, he was totally doing that on purpose! If he says ‘darling charlie’ again, he might just pop.

Lucifer rested his chin on his hand, continuing to give a questioning look, “I’ll pretend like you haven’t purposely been pushing my buttons this whole conversation..” Alastor tilted his head all innocent, making Lucifer groan. “Aaand give you a suggestion, maybe? Really anything you do that doesn’t involve trying to harm me, or hurting me I guess is fine?”

He just threw that out of nowhere, but the light around the room started glowing red, Husk taking that as his cue to run away as fast as he could. “Is that so? Anything that doesn’t cause harm, or hurt, works? Can I count on you to not physically fight back against me too?” He began looming over him, Lucifer wasn’t alarmed or at all scared of the Radio Devil.

Alastor held out his hand, as if he was making a deal, Lucifer let out a small laugh. He made some of his own rules to the deal before shaking his hand. “I mean, sure, only everything that helps solve our disagreements though! So what, are we gonna play like a video game or sometTHIIIING!” Lucifer gasped as his chair went backwards before going against the wall, being controlled by Alastors power.

His wrists were suddenly pinned above his head by Alastor magic, along with his ankles being latched to the chair legs. The chair he sat on was slightly leaning back, Alastor began to slowly approach him. “Okay, this is bullshit Alastor! I literally just said no harm, for fucks sake!” Lucifer groaned, trying to break free.

He felt his heart drop when his angel powers did nothing, leaving him stuck. Alastor smiled at this reaction, “Look at you! Slightly worried, are we? Don’t be, you can't break free because I intend no harm, just like our deal said!” Alastor grinned, standing a couple inches away.

Lucifer was slightly confused, but glad he didn’t somehow get tricked by the demon. He slumped in his strong hold, “I mean, of course I'm relieved… but what else could you do in a position like t—” He was cut off by his own gasp when Alastor made his magic send a poke to his side.

He looked up at Alastor immediately, a knowing look flashed on him as he smiled nervously… Alastor could swear he saw his lips trembling with giggles. “Well, you catch on quickly!” Was all Alastor said, before it returned to his side, poking the spot repeatedly.

Lucifer twisted as much as he could, his lips turning into a smile. He bit his cheek, trying to contain the laughter that threatened to spill with every poke. Alastor laughed amusingly, “See, I told you didn’t I? That doesn’t hurt, riiiight? Surely this doesn’t either!” Suddenly, the tickling moved up towards his ribs. Instead of the poking though, it was just scribbling up and down his left ribs.

Of course, Lucifer couldn’t contain his laughter after that. “Oh shihihit! Yohohou ahahare suhuhuch an ahahass!” The king of hell cursed himself for looking so weak infront of a demon, but he couldn’t help it. He was always way too ticklish, and Alastor just had to exploit it. He sure as hell was exploiting it… Lucifer’s giggling was uncontrollable.

“Oh, I know right! I must say, being an ass does have its merits sometimes! Only people like me can make the strongest man in hell… laugh like this.” He teased. More magic started joining in as both ribs were now getting the same treatment.

Lucifer’s head slumped forward, his laughter childish and squeaky… not to mention extremely embarrassing. That only made Alastor more amused, naturally.

His head suddenly lifted up, still laughing but he seemed to have had a light bulb moment in his mind. “Hohohold ohohon! Dohohont wehehe neheheed a disahahagreemehehent?!” He questioned somewhat frantically, feeling the hold on his arms begin to loosen as realisation sets in on Alastor.

“Deary me, you’re right!” The loosened feeling was now tightened again. Shit, Alastor had already thought of an idea or some loophole…? “Our disagreement can be about… who’s the better singer! That’s a small innocent topic, hmm?”

The tickling had stopped during Alastors pondering, so Lucifer was able to speak up… still a bit out of breath of course. “Come again? Sorry, but that is the stupidest disagreement ever!” He snarked.

“Sadly that’s true… but you still can't admit that i'm the better singer. So desperate measures are needed!” Alastor pretended to pity him, angering the king of hell more.

“I can’t admit that you're the better singer?! Oh you tacky piece of shihihit— Shihit shihit shiihitttt!” Through his frustrated retort, Alastor returned the tickling. Leaving him laughing and giggling frantically by the end.

“You were saying~?” Alastor teased once more, having way too much enjoyment from this.

“Yohohou ahahare juhuhust awfuhuhul! W-wait— Nononono plehehease! Nahahat thehehere!” Lucifer’s laugh grew more squeaky just when they were about to start tickling his stomach.

His words instantly made Alastor light up, “Well well well! Did the king of hell just say please to me? That last part as well, ‘not there’ you say?” Alastor let out a small laugh, it sounded less sinister then his laughter before, it was almost… fondly? “I must say that’s quite adorable of you, but it won’t get you anywhere! I just have to tickle you there now!”

Alastor claimed, making anticipation butterflies swarm in Lucifer's stomach. It didn’t take long before his tummy was being absolutely attacked with tickles. Lucifer's reaction was immediate, loud gleeful laughter filling the large space as the king of hell continued to laugh himself silly.

“NOOhohOHO! ALAHAHASTEHEHER! STOHOHOP THIHIS— I CAHAHANT!” He squeaked was his belly button was circled, throwing his head back with more cackles.

Alastor paced back and forth, his uncontrollable laughter making amazing background noise. “You know what you have to say, your majesty! Just 5 magic words, ‘Alastor is better at singing’ so easy!”

“I WOHOHONT! I CAHAHANT LIHIHIE!” Alastor could hear the slight snark in his tone, bringing a more sadistic look to the situation.

Now his underarms were being tickled, causing his laughter to start being laced with hiccups. “A lie, you say? Far from it actually. Come on, it's the only way to make the tickling stop….” He said, his eyes looked fondly, but his smile was evil and mischievous.

The tickling of course was getting too much for even the king of hell. With tears of mirth welling up in his eyes, and a mouth that was slightly sore from all the smiling, he began to give in.

“OHOHOHOH FIHIHINE! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN! YOHOU WIHIHIN!” He started, which caused Alastor to lessen the tickling, bringing the tickling under his arms to start poking around his thighs and knees.

The stomach tickling was also very light now, thank god… allowing him to speak. “Ohohokay! Yohou ahahare a behetter si— AH!” Lucifer suddenly winced in pain, Alastor froze. He remember how he fell over a rubber duck and hurt his knee a few days ago… a spot must still be tender.

“Ah, fuck.” Alastor suddenly said.

The rules were technically broken… Alastor unintentionally caused pain! Now, Lucifer was instantly able to break free, starting his own evil grin. “Ohoho, you are sooo fucked!” Lucifer giggled, walking over to Alastor with his fingers wiggling.

Without any react time, by the moment Alastor really registered what was happening… Lucifer was already tackling him onto the floor. Using his angel powers to totally pin him down, and give the Radio Devil the exact treatment he got. Alastor’s static laughter now filling the Hazbin Hotel.

No disagreement this time, just a need to serve out some revenge.

[mystey-here]

A Different Duel

Lucifer and Alastor can turn anything into a competition.

Anything.

(Lucifer and Alastor friendship/radioapple if you squint. Niffty and Alastor father and daughter relationship. This ended up way longer than I meant oops)

The halls were adorned in even more tacky circus decor than before. Frankly, Alastor was surprised there weren’t as many ducks as he feared there’d be. Maybe Charlie had downgraded the King’s obsession to just a few.

He hadn’t really been out to see the new, lavish and fully renovated Hazbin Hotel yet, having just crept out of the depths of his tower after several weeks of healing. He’d made himself scarce and barricaded anyone from entering.

Life had gone on it seemed. It was early morning and most of the hotel were out. Lucifer had commanded a grocery trip to stock the kitchen, and it seemed only he and Niffty were in the lobby. Alastor was quite blindsided to find the tiny maid at eye level as he stood by the railing.

He peered down and his grin stretched into a snarl when he saw Lucifer hoisting her up as he flew with all six wings.

“High enough, Thumbelina?” he asked the little lady, doing a figure eight in the air with her as the little cyclops squealed in delight. Alastor’s claws clenched into the railing.

“Higher, Luci! I want to go higher, I still need to reach the ceiling!” Niffty giggled and feathered the king’s face with her duster, prompting a string of giggling.

“Allow me then, little miss!” Alastor’s voice came out with a bit more of a bite than he intended, as his tendrils were quick to snatch the squealing tick from the angel’s arms. He hoisted Niffty up higher than Lucifer had, and grinned all fangs as the man scowled at him.

“Petty little bitch. You saw that I was holding her up to the chandelier. I was managing it just fine.”

“Ohhh maybe!” Alastor agreed. His tendrils absently rolled along and weaved through the air, bouncing a squeaking and laughing Niffty. “But can your wings do this?”

“No,” Lucifer deadpanned, and he snatched Niffty right back. “I can do this though!” He kept himself airborne with a few wings (although it certainly threw off his weight), and one of his wings fluttered at the girl’s belly.

Furious and jealous static crackled from Alastor at the tick’s laughter, and he yanked the girl right back again. “Oh please! You really wish to get the little doll to laugh?” His tendrils wriggled along her sides and squeezed at her knees. “You’re going for all the wrong spots!”

Tendrils still tickling a laughing Niffty, he swung the girl possessively up onto his shoulder. “I’ll thank you to stay away from the little lady, Your Highness! You already have one of your own.” He started towards the stairs. Stay the fuck away from mine. 

“What’s wrong? Afraid I can make her laugh easier than you can?” Lucifer shot back smugly, only pleased by the enraged static that crackled from the stag.

“Oh please!” Alastor scoffed and his staff reached out to fish the little bug up by her poodle skirt. “It is remarkably easy to make Niffty laugh! I prefer a more difficult game myself. What’s this trivial nonsense matter to you anyway?”

“Oh nothing much. Personally I just want to see how many things I can best you at.” Lucifer disappeared in a flash of gold and was suddenly inches away from Alastor’s face. “Because we certainly know killing angels is one of them!”

Alastor’s snarling grin tightened even more as he tried to pass the King. “I’m not interested in any of your frivolities . Some of us actually have work to do today!”

“Wow, I’m surprised at you, Alfonso. I wouldn’t think you’d be someone to turn down a competition. Scared you’ll lose?”

“In what? A game of tickling Niffty? Niffty is hardly even a challenge to make laugh.”

“Mm yes I see,” the King drawled as he leaned upon the crimson fruit of his own staff. “Who do you propose to be the best test subject then?”

“Well for hypothetical sake, Husker of course!” It was far too delightful of a thought to summon his old friend out from whatever frivolous and likely alcohol fueled fun he was having.

“Husk is with Angel. He’d be pretty mad if you interrupted him.”

Ah, so add fornication as part of the fun then. “All the more reason to summon him here so he can settle this little duel! The look on his face, it would be simply priceless!”

Tickling the feline had always been a fond pastime. The tom cat yowls and cackles were always surprisingly boisterous coming from the old drunk.

“You really need to summon a buffer?” Lucifer drawled, seconds before Alastor’s claws were poised to snap. “What, too scared you yourself would lose?” His snake fanged grin smirked at the deer.

Alastor stepped back and his claws and even antlers curled in displeasure as the King shifted into his serpentine form and had the audacity to curl up his microphone staff. He attempted to shake the microphone, but the bastard was immovable….and Alastor wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

“Maybe I’m just not partial to these games with you, of all people.” Alastor snipped back. “Niffty is an exception. I hardly want you touching me.”

“Ah, I get it kid.” Lucifer hovered above him now, and his six wings flapped innocently, disarmingly close to the deer. “You know you’d lose to me, and you don’t want that. It’s fine! It’s cool! I respect your stance.”

Niffty could see that Lucifer was playing right into Alastor’s pride, and Alastor was eating it up. His grin was turned up into a sneer. “I didn’t say I was frightened. Perhaps I’m just not ticklish.”

“Yes you are,” Niffty piped up from the mass of tendrils.

“Hush, dearest! So you really want to do this then?” He leaned on his staff, burning inwardly with embarrassment that he’d fallen victim to his vices. “Fine.”

A tickle fight with the devil. There were worst ways to spend a Wednesday morning.  “Alright. What are the ground rules?”

“Magic can be used, but not to hurt each other,” Lucifer informed. “Frankly I have no issues hurting you, but ehhh, doesn't feel like it fits in the spirit of this game. We’re just playing after all!” His angelic wing extended, shy of touching the deer.

Alastor spun his staff for effect. This would be a nice moment of respite, he supposed. A change of pace from the business he needed to attend to later. Really anything he could do to torment the duck obsessed prick was a plus in his book.

“Then….” A distorted cackle echoed through the deer’s infernal speakers, as a mass of tendrils exploded from his back. His filtered voice brimmed with glee. “Let’s play, my friend!”

The tendrils struck forward like an arrow, and almost caught Lucifer’s ankle, but the former angel was quick to spiral out of the way. He dispersed into a cloud of glitter and sparkles, and Alastor swerved just in time to avoid the arms that almost snatched him.

“Oh relying less on your powers, are you?” the deer snipped, as a band of tendrils caught the devil’s wrist. 

“I prefer a more hands on approach!” Lucifer taunted, and his fingers wiggled along the tips of Alastor’s ears before he managed to slam him to the ground. “Using just my magic feels so impersonal!”

“Well good, because I don’t want you touching me!” Alastor growled as his staff knocked Lucifer off balance in the air. “I’d think the devil would be eager to show off. You certainly were in that sad little magic show the day you cursed our doorstep with your presence!”

Lucifer’s canary yellow eyes sharpened as he smirked viciously. “Oh believe me, kid! I can show you what the devil can do!” His eyes flared crimson and fire leaped from his lips.

Alastor wasn’t sure what he was preparing for, but it certainly wasn’t for the black branches that shot out of the floorboards and tried to wind across his limbs. They were twisted and carried the faint scent of apples. 

He found himself entrapped, but before Lucifer could strike him down, he sent a cascade of green to incinerate the branches. “A cute little trick, but that’s merely all it is.”

He was far more bark than bite today. The bastard had chosen the worst possible moment for this juvenile battle. He was still healing from his injury. His wound had almost recovered, but he…hadn’t exerted such a level of power since his fight with Adam. Lucifer had him woefully overpowered and Alastor was fully aware of it. Fuck.

If he could count on the archangel to be far more ticklish than he was powerful, just maybe he’d have a shot. “You weren’t watching your back though!”

A portal had opened up by the devil, and he didn’t turn around in time to avoid the black tendril that finally succeeded in snatching his wing. “Ah! Ack! Oh nice try, Bambi! Maybe you aren’t so hopeless after all.”

“How original,” Alastor drawled as a few more tendrils snaked towards the little canary flapping in his trap. “I’ve been called every iteration of a deer ever created, my good man! You’re going to have to try to be more creative.”

Lucifer squealed as several tendrils weaved into the air, dangerously close to him. He kicked his feet and flapped his arms, as if to deter them. It only seemed to invite his doom however, and the devil squealed as he felt the  tendrils slither across his belly.

“Wahahait, that’s nahahat fahahair!” Lucifer, the ‘self proclaimed’ Dad of the hotel was deathly ticklish, and it was a weakness both his family, old and new, exploited to its fullest.

“Oh I see, because you’re losing it isn’t fair? I’ve followed all the rules!” He wiggled his fingers in the air, and the tendrils responded in kind, wriggling up under the devil’s arms. The boyish goofy laughter was instant.

“AHAHALASTOR!” Lucifer squealed as he tried to shove his arms down, but it only served to trap the wiggling appendages, as the smirking deer found a rhythm that drove the king up the wall. 

Oh how he couldn’t wait to put a more desperate smile on that pompous little fawn’s face!

“You know, I have a hypothesis that I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me test!” Alastor gave a predatory smirk and loomed closer to the cackling devil, propelled upwards by his tendrils. “Wings seem to be quite the terrible spot on Husker. I’m wondering if that’s possibly universal?”

He grinned at the terror in the pocket sized king’s expression, a dark chuckle leaving as Lucifer struggled to snap his wings against him.

“DOHOHON’T EVEN THIHIHINK IT!”

Too late. Those thoughts had processed. Six tendrils suddenly dove forward into the pit of each wing, and Alastor could barely believe the explosive reaction it garnered. 

Lucifer screamed with laughter, falling into a fit of babbling pleas and snorts as his feet peddled at the air uselessly. He kicked and he squirmed but Alastor was ruthless in his attack.

“Bingo,” the deer smirked viciously. A taunting laugh track echoed from his infernal speakers, and the mocking just put the poor King further into hysterics. “I think I’ve won this little game, wouldn’t you say so? Your Highness? Oh sorry, can you say so? Can you even HEAR ME?” he called over the screams.

“I don’t think I feel quite ready to let my catch go yet. There’s still many spots left to try out! Ah, wouldn't you say so Niffty?”

Suddenly Alastor was aware of the fact that the spot his quasi adopted daughter had been sitting in, was…empty. Peculiar. Had she really grown so bored already? 

If he was a bit more on his game, maybe he would have sensed the girl before he felt her devious little body scale up the back of him. 

“I say I want to try this spot!” Her tiny claws latched to his belly, and the little maid sealed his fate. Feedback screeched from the deer’s microphone as laughter nearly burst out. While he saved face, he didn’t save his concentration.

His head jerked up long enough to see the dispersing, golden glitter in the wiggling tendrils. Alastor’s eyes widened as he whirled around—just in time for that glitter to appear inches away from him, Lucifer now in the form of a beautiful white sparrow.

“Ohhhh, betrayed by your own ‘little lady’, damn that’s gotta suck for you!” the bird tweeted, and situated himself in Alastor’s hair to peck at his ears. A yelp tore from Alastor’s throat but his claws reached out to snatch the sparrow.

“I’m rescinding the cafe trip she and I were going to spend together as punishment!” Alastor growled, narrowing his eyes at her. He didn’t have too long to mull on her betrayal however, finding himself too busy trying to get a Lucifer shaped snake off of his neck!

“Gotta say buddy, ever since meeting you I’ve been reveling in the idea of wiping that shit eating grin off your face!” Lucifer danced out of Alastor’s claws once more, and merrily scampered over his side as a tiny gerbil.

Alastor snarled and he tried to hone in on where the devil might phase to next, but every attempt of snatching the asshole only ended in him getting a handful of glitter. It was getting disorienting trying to keep up with his teleporting, and his tendrils kept on snatching at the empty air.

“Hold—still!”

“Buuut if I can’t wipe the grin off your face, then I’ll settle for making it as desperately wide as possible!” Lucifer, now a small cricket hopping in and out of his pockets, suddenly reverted to his angelic form.

All six wings of angelic form, and tackled Alastor to the couch. Before the deer could snarl anything, Lucifer shoved his claws under Alastor’s arms. “See how you like it, douchebag.”

Between the feathery wings holding him in an embrace that tickled on its own, and the attack to one of his weak spots, Alastor didn’t stand a chance. 

Microphone feedback screeched between a pop of static, and finally loud laughter. “GEHEHET OHOHOHOFF ME YOU MISEHEHEREABLE LIHITTLE-“

“Ouuuu better be nice to the guy who decides how long he’s going to keep you like this!” Lucifer laughed, just enjoying the banter. It was so fucking satisfying knocking this prick down a peg or two! “Gotta say, that microphone thing is cute! That part of the whole radio demon thing?”

Alastor cursed through crackling static as he wrestled with Lucifer’s hands, unable to keep the squeal from emitting when the devil got his belly. He tried to shove his face to the side, so at least he didn’t need to see his tormentor’s face, but that just pushed his face further into the wings!

“The hands on approach is just so much more rewarding than only using my magic,” Lucifer drawled, smirking as every wiggle of his fingers pulled more feedback through the cackling. “Hands off is just so impersonal, you know?”

“I’m about to BITE your hands off!” Alastor snarled, before he was sent back into bright laughter as Lucifer dug punishingly under his arms, getting into his trench coat and minimizing his protection.

“Ah ah, you cryptid little reindeer, that’s just breaking our rules we set!” Lucifer gasped dramatically, tasering his fingers into the deer’s bony ribs. 

His colossal sized wings folded over the deer, and the effect was overwhelming on its own. Alastor sucked in a breath as the slightest movement made the feathers twitch, but staying still wasn’t possible. 

“Isn’t this fun? I do this with Charlie all the time!” By the looks of it, it was having the same desired effect. The radio demon was a mess of giggles entangled in a bed of feathers. “Just enjoy the relaxation!”

Alastor wasn’t sure what was worse, the feathers that had reduced him to popping static and wiggling, or the fact that the wings were hugging him. He tried to summon his tendrils, but he couldn’t conjure even an inkling of focus…and his magic was exhausted. He was utterly helpless to suffer this humiliating, feathery defeat!

“Do you give up yet?” the devil had the gall to taunt. “Because I could stay like this aaalll day! Gotta say, you’re not so bad when you’re squealing like a little fawn! Just give it up, kid! You know you can’t beat me and it’ll only get worse from here…”

“You’re hugging me, h-how can it get…much worse?”

“Ou, something like this!” the King grinned. Those devious six wings suddenly flapped, brushing over his midsection like a curtain. Feathers poked in through the buttons of his shirt and Alastor just about bent into the king.

“GEHEHEHET OHOHOFF!” 

“What’s the matter? I’d think I could expect a much bigger fight from someone like you!” Lucifer appeared as a snake, woven around one of his antlers. His snake tongue hissed as it poked at the deer’s ears, bringing another bright snort. 

At least able to push himself up from the couch’s arm, Alastor made another grab for the King, but he just reappeared on his belly as a duckling, nuzzling it. The deer nearly doubled over. “STAHAHAHAP IHIHIHIT!” 

“Why kid? Do you yield?” Lucifer taunted, his sharp toothed grin widening playfully. It was a disconcerting sight to see from a little duckling. He reverted to his normal form. “You don’t seem to be putting up much of a f-“

That’s when Alastor finally reared up and captured the king’s wrists in his grip. With a sharp jerk, he’d sent them both tumbling off the couch. “Perhaps I will utilize the hands on approach! Anything to take you down!”

His claws dove to Lucifer’s belly, and he was delighted by the squealing results. Lucifer’s wings flapped out in instinct, but Alastor avoided their snatching attempts. He changed the target area to his sides, and back up under his arms, skittering from one spot to the next and quickly alternating. He was simply merciless in his pursuit, because he would win this war.

Lucifer screeched to the high heavens, before he began cackling uncontrollably and beating his feet against the couch cushions. “AHAHAHAHA SHIHIHIT!” He wrestled with the deer’s grappling hands as both suddenly found themselves locked in some sort of power play.

“My my your highness, so sensitive, aren’t we?” Alastor teased as his claws dug into any inch of skin he could manage to find. Ribs, under his arms, and in the pits of his wings. He never deliberated on one area for too long, refusing to give the King a chance to get used to one sensation before another began.

“SHUHUHUT UP, YOU PRIHIHIHICK!”

This was…fun! He despised the very fact that anything to do with the apple pisslord was fun, but he couldn’t deny how intoxicating it was to have the devil at his mercy, even in such a childish game. Such a personal attack with his claws felt strange, he barely ever used anything but his tendrils. Oh, but it did make the King’s defeat so much more satisfying…

“Ugh!” A sudden spasm of agony rocketed across his ribcage, and briefly blinded the King from his vision. He saw just enough to catch the loathsome concern in Lucifer’s eyes as he toppled off the cushions.

“Alastor!” His own speed at which he was at the deer’s side surprised even himself. Lucifer crouched beside the panting creature and he extended a reluctant hand. 

Alastor remained in his near fetal position as he tried to gather his bearings. He was suddenly aware of the eyes on him. Lucifer. Niffty. Both gazed at him with concern and pity, as if he was someone that was weak. He abhorred the hand that Lucifer was extending to him, and he emitted a low warning growl.

Lucifer’s hand slowly withdrew, and his shoulders slackened as he saw the few minutes of progress they’d made completely unravel. Alastor was retreating back into his shell.

The deer staggered to his feet and his radio filter and cheshire grin once more disguised everything Lucifer saw under the surface. “Well that was a fun little game! Shall we call it a draw this time, your highness? It seems like we both evenly matched each other’s hysterics!”

“Tch, yeah. We’ll have to have a rematch!” He watched Alaator’s ears twitch forward, unsure if that was a good sign or not. “You…okay? You need me to take a look at ya?”

“I’m fine!” Static grated the air, cutting off the King’s concerned inquiry. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

“Wait!”

Lucifer appeared before him in a glittery burst and Alastor’s teeth bared in impatience. Still, the King was undeterred. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to let the minimal progress they’d made…fall apart. “Hey, have you eaten yet? We were going to make pancakes, little Thumbelina and I.”

Begrudgingly he had to admit he was hungry. A rumbling in his stomach betrayed his denial. He glared at the King, but it was the smiling cyclops at Lucifer’s side that as always…melted his reserve.

“…Oh fine!” His elbow dug mockingly into the King’s top hat like an armrest. “I suppose I am feeling quite peckish! I must admit that I am more partial to crepes. They’re far superior.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and shoved a finger up under the deer’s arm, delighting in the squeaking snort as he shoved him away. “Hells bells, do you really have to make everything into some competition? Ya dick.”

“I don’t have to but it’s undeniably satisfying…” He ducked a surprisingly more playful and merry cane swing from the devil, dancing from his grip. “I must admit, that battle was a bit riveting. I suppose they don’t all have to end in bloodshed.”

“Yeah it was fun, but if you ever wanna pull something like that on Charlie, you need some tips.”

“Charlie?” Alastor’s grin nearly split his lips. “Tell me more…”

[mystey-here]

i hate to report that i’m both lucifer and alastor trash

[mystey-here]

Sneak Peek - A Different Duel

Alastor and Lucifer can turn just about anything into a competition.

Anything.

His head jerked up long enough to see the dispersing, golden glitter in the wiggling tendrils. Alastor’s eyes widened as he whirled around—just in time for that glitter to appear inches away from him, Lucifer now in the form of a beautiful white sparrow.

“Ohhhh, betrayed by your own ‘kid’, damn that’s gotta suck for you!” the bird tweeted, and situated himself in Alastor’s hair to peck at his ears. A yelp tore from Alastor’s throat but his claws reached out to snatch the sparrow.

“I’m rescinding the cafe trip she and I were going to spend together as punishment!” Alastor growled, narrowing his eyes at his giggling Niffty. He didn’t have too long to mull on her betrayal however, finding himself too busy trying to get a Lucifer shaped snake off of his neck!

“Gotta say buddy, ever since meeting you I’ve been reveling in the idea of wiping that shit eating grin off your face!” Lucifer danced out of Alastor’s claws once more, and merrily scampered over his side as a tiny gerbil.

Alastor snarled and he tried to hone in on where the devil might phase to next, but every attempt of snatching the asshole only ended in him getting a handful of glitter. It was getting disorienting trying to keep up with his teleporting, and his tendrils kept on snatching at the empty air.

“Hold—still!”

“Buuut if I can’t wipe the grin off your face, then I’ll settle for making it as desperately wide as possible!” Lucifer, now a small cricket hopping in and out of his pockets, suddenly reverted to his angelic form.

All six wings of angelic form, and tackled Alastor to the couch. Before the deer could snarl anything, Lucifer shoved his claws under Alastor’s arms. “See how you like it, douchebag.”

Between the feathery wings holding him in an embrace that tickled on its own, and the attack to one of his weak spots, Alastor didn’t stand a chance. 

Microphone feedback screeched between a pop of static, and finally loud laughter. “GEHEHET OHOHOHOFF ME YOU MISEHEHEREABLE LIHITTLE-“

“Ouuuu better be nice to the guy who decides how long he’s going to keep you like this!” Lucifer laughed, just enjoying the banter. It was so fucking satisfying knocking this prick down a peg or two! “That microphone thing is cute! That part of the whole radio demon thing?”

[mystey-here]

SCRRAMING CRYING

Best Mistake

Pairing - Alastor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,015

In which you’re a new member in the Hazbin Hotel trying to redeem yourself. Everyone has made you feel welcomed, you’ve warmed up to everyone, everyone except one. It is no secret that you do not trust him, and Alastor seems to take matters into his own hands and change that.

This is a tickle fic. Do not read if that’s not your thing.

It has only been a month, but you vividly remember how your first day went when entering the doors of Hazbin Hotel. Charlie immediately running up to you with such a tight suffocating hug, asking but almost demanding Angel he takes your bags into your room as she expresses her delight of having you stay.

Staying wasn’t your first option. The idea of a sinner redeeming themself enough to see the pearly white gates of Heaven greet them was almost laughable to you. When you first entered Hell, you thought that you finally reached the end. Made yourself at home and rot yourself away almost like how you did on earth.

One stroll in town is when you saw a commercial advertising Hazbin Hotel. You watched Charlie eagerly tell the purpose of the Hotel as she gives the viewers a thirty second tour, almost losing her breath as she tries to fit in as much information as possible before her timed commercial ends. You weren’t alone watching it, people gathering near you as they whisper to the person next to them their opinions. The majority of the reaction was chuckles here and doubts there. You, admittedly, also had your doubts.

Although, did you really believe you belonged down here? That this was your final ending?

Which brings you back to remembering your first day. Charlie had an iron grip on your hand from her excitement, pulling you to every room in the hotel and showing off its purposes and making sure to not leave any details out. Once an hour went by and she finally finished, she made you meet the staff and other guests individually.

You were a little intimidated by Vaggie, but could tell she will be very sweet once she warms up to you. Angel seemed like the guy that could make you crack out of your shy shell by spending five minutes with him. Husk didn’t say much, but you could tell he likes being here rather than anywhere else. Just don’t call him out on that. Niffty left you guessing if she is twelve or somewhere in her mid 20s, would not be surprised if older than that. Oh and also, her swiftness and pleasure for pain and torturing bugs kept you awake on your first few nights. Sir Pentious looks naturally suspicious, but he was actually very nice when greeting and you asked him a little about his egg minions.

“Aaaannd the last person I want to introduce you to is…!” Charlie sing song, bringing you down the halls in search for her last friend she has yet for you to meet. She opens a door, assuming to yourself that’s their room as she peeks her head in a little. You waited behind her, rubbing your neck a little as sudden goosebumps were felt. Charlie turned around after not having much luck finding him in there, but quickly gasped when she looked behind you.

“Alastor! There you are!”

You froze in place for a few seconds as the name fell upon your ears. Alastor. Alastor. You inhaled deeply, slowly turning around and almost having to crane your neck to make visible of the face smiling down at you, arms behind his back and small radio statics being played. Every hair on your body stood up, forgetting to blink when you two locked eyes for a good solid minute.

Count yourself as scared shitless.

You came back to reality, stepping back to keep a good distance between you two but went for a small tumble. “Woah, I got you!” Charlie giggled, catching you before you could fall. Unaware of the now fear written all over your body, she continues on by gesturing her hand towards the seven foot demon.

“Y/N, this is Alastor. Alastor, this is Y/N. Our new guest!”

He sticks his hand out towards you for a handshake, but all you could do was stare at his red claws that looks like he’s been sharpening them every five minutes. Alastor took your hand, knowing he would be standing there all day if he let you willingly shake it.

“Don’t leave me hanging, dear! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/N.” You knew awkward silences went by after that, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his hand interlacing with yours. You just want to get the hell out of here and run far, far away from this hotel and never look back. You knew there would be regrets when you gave this hotel a chance.

Okay, this was actually your first time meeting Alastor, but his stories were no stranger to you. Recalling back when hearing those horrifying, blood-curdling screams being broadcasted on the radio for all to hear as if it was a fair warning, people begin telling you the man responsible behind all of it. You wished later on you’d never asked, The thought of The Radio Demon selecting you as his next victim crawling into your dreams which turned to nightmares. Of course, you know that chance is slim, but is never zero. Down in Hell, you just don’t know what the fuck kind of trouble you’ll find yourself in.

Now having a face to the name, he completely became a new wave of terrifying to you. The red claws you observed earlier sent a shiver down your spine. Those pointy yellow teeth that you swear on Lucifer he’s put to good use. Bonus points for his tall, lanky figure which practically makes him towering over you so easily.

What you did not expect, though, was his strange resemblance to a deer. The antlers and, also, are those ears? Funnily enough, it kind of made him less scary. Almost. Not really.

Ever since your first interaction with him, you weren’t dumb understanding that he right off the bat knows your lack in trust and feeling unsafe around him. You would often walk down the halls being paranoid that eyes were watching you intently, eyes belonging to Alastor but had no further proof it really was him.

At certain times, you were convinced the demon was toying with how you felt by saying things to you that definitely came off creepy, but could never accuse him of doing it purposefully when he smiles like there’s no tomorrow. He always looks at you harmlessly, but you’d be a fool to take that as a sign to let your guard down. Every conversation he picks up with you ends short on your end, pretending you have somewhere else to be.

That somewhere being away from him.

Everyone knew the relationship you stand with him. Some didn’t blame you, especially Vaggie. Others, like Charlie, tried her best to ease your worries.

“Alastor is a great friend, Y/N! Just give him a chance.” She would say to you on most days, but it was gonna take more than believing someone’s word for you.

So, bless her, Charlie decided to come up with a trust activity exercise.

“Charlie, I appreciate you trying but I don’t see how this will make a difference…” You say as she rounds everybody up, some sitting and some standing. Charlie waves a dismissive hand. “Not with that attitude it won’t!” Her confidence is quite admirable, something in which you lack greatly.

She went over the jist of the activity, it being pretty simple. Everyone gets a turn to stand on a table and fall backwards, trusting everyone behind them that they will catch you with no hesitation. It seems easy, but once you are up there doubts will for sure start flooding your mind.

It’s called trust fall. A game you remembered playing when you were in middle school, to test your friends on their trust. However, to put this test on a seven foot demon with a horrifying reputation that all of Hell is aware of? Yeah, you wish you could count yourself out of this one.

One by one, everyone went up on top of the table and fell into the arms of those whose duty was to catch them. Some fell as soon as they climbed on top without letting second thoughts get a chance to swoop in their mind, while others took a little bit of reassurance.

Once it was your turn, you did one last pleading look towards Charlie, but she gave you two thumbs up and gestured for you to go. Sighing, you made your way up and looked down at everyone having their arms up and ready. Your eyes looked over to the middle, there Alastor standing nice and tall with his signature grin. A grin you want to see drop at least once.

As you turned your back, you didn’t hear everyone scoot back and have Alastor the only one standing near the table, in range of catching you easily. You took a couple of seconds to yourself to ease your breathing, because you are embarrassingly afraid of heights, but then you let yourself fall.

Arms slide past under yours, fingers resting on your sides as your back hit against a chest. The first thing that clouded your mind was how it felt like only one person catch you, but the next thing on your mind was how you suddenly felt fingers dig a little in your sides, pulling a small squeal from you as you quickly turn around to view the culprit.

Alastor stared down at you, feigning cluelessness. He clapped his hands together, ignoring your confused yet questionable stare at him. “Now! That wasn’t so hard was it, darling?” Vaggie nodded slightly in agreement, while Charlie ran over and gave you a big hug and excitedly expressing how proud she was of you.

Yet, you are still stuck on the question what just happened right after you fell. Every time you look over at him, he just smiles your way innocently, making you second guess yourself on what you truly felt.

You weren’t crazy. You knew exactly what he did, and he damn well knows it too, but it still feels so unlikely to happen.

Ever since the trust activity happened, which has now been a full week, Alastor seems to be playing a one sided game with you. A game that leaves you frustrated yet confused on what he’s gaining from it.

You’ll find yourself reaching for an item placed high on a shelf. Alastor will come strolling along, offering to give you a helping hand, and in the midst of doing so you’ll feel a ticklish breeze near your ribs. Now, the breeze would feel so similarly like fingers dancing along your ribs, their intent to send a ticklish wave throughout your body. Hence you turning with a glare, but Alastor would simply ignore the face you’d be making and hand you the item you’ve been trying to reach.

Another time you felt the same breeze is when you ultimately made a bad decision thinking you could fit into a hoodie that definitely wasn’t your size. You saw it displayed in a store when you decided to take a walk downtown, immediately calling your name. It was so cute in your eyes, despite realizing it wasn’t your true size you usually get clothes in, you wanted to give it a try.

Now, you noticed it was a grand mistake and a waste of money when the tightness it held around your body was starting to get unbearable. What you weren’t expecting, though, was how it didn’t budge any further when you rolled it up and couldn’t get it over your head, blocking your eyes.

You didn’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed that Alastor was walking down the halls during that time. A blessing, because he saw your poor state and undoubtedly offered to help. A curse, because you felt that damn ticklish breeze along your ribs in the midst of him helping you out, a yelp of surprise leaving your lips.

“There we are!” He exclaimed heartily, tossing the hoodie to the side and watching you fix your ruffled up hair but also eyeing him skeptically. “What was that?” You asked, but it almost sounded like an accusation because you damn well knew what caused it.

“What was what, dear?” He beamed, raising an eyebrow with arms crossed behind. You stared for a couple of seconds, not knowing whether to sound like a lunatic explaining what’s been happening for the last couple of days whenever he’s around, or to let it slide once again. Unfortunately, you were already feeling exhausted and were in the middle of heading to bed, so you waved a dismissive hand.

“Nothing, nothing.”

It kept you on your toes. Always checking your surroundings when walking around outside of your room, it got Angel questioning to Vaggie if someone’s out to get you by how paranoid you look.

You knew how stupid you looked to others, because you haven’t talked about any of what’s happening to you with any of them. You thought they would either laugh and say your imagining things, which you weren’t guilty of also thinking the same, or they would confront the overlord himself. If anything, you were at your wits end. You were considering doing the latter yourself, because it really has you on edge.

And so, you did.

One thing that you like to spend your free time on is painting. Painting anything that’s in front of you or whatever idea you had in mind that day. It could also depend on your mood, and for this particular Tuesday afternoon you felt quite peaceful. Your hands were almost as dirty as your palette, sticking your tongue out a bit whenever you were focused and gently dragging the paintbrush across the paper.

Your peace filled mind abruptly vanished when ears picked up on a familiar humming and distant blue jazz playing on a radio. It didn’t take long for you to put the hum to a name, looking over your shoulder but he was already behind you.

You gasped, his sudden appearance startling you. Standing up a bit too fast caused your easel to tip slightly and send your paper flying down, but luckily Alastor caught it and brought it up high to fully view the painting in front of him.

“You never told me you paint, dearie! I’m certain this will turn out marvelous once you’re finished.” His eyes look up for a response, but you’re standing like it’s a predator vs prey fight. Nervousness written all over you, hands out to defend yourself.

“Don’t you dare.” You say, making him tilt his head and squint his eyes a little. “Don’t I dare what?” His smile tightens, but you swore up and down its a smirk laced with nothing but mischief behind it. He’s being a little shit acting oblivious, and he damn well knows it.

“You know what!” You raised your voice a little, trying to sound intimidating but if he keeps staring down at you like he’s about to pounce, you might shrink in fear. Alastor takes a step forward, and you take a step back.

“Oohh sweetheart, whatever do you mean?” He’s got you backed into a wall, which staggers your confidence. Nonetheless, you gulped away any indication you’re feeling quite rather terrified, as anyone else would, and stand a little taller. “Don’t act dumb, Alastor.” The radio demon hummed as if he was collecting any memory of what could possibly trouble you, which made your eye twitch.

“Ah! Do you mean this?” Bringing his hands forward, Alastor danced his fingers alongside your ribs, instantly having the same vibe as the breeze you’ve been feeling. You barely had any chance to react and defend yourself, immediately grabbing his wrists as tightly as you can to tear them away. It did absolutely nothing, by the way.

Being tickled by an overlord was not on your list of things that could happen down at your time in hell. If anyone were to tickle you at the hotel, Alastor wouldn’t even be one of your top three guesses. Him sending those ticklish breezes your way, knowing how easily it got you to squeal and feel embarrassed. Knowing how it kept you on your toes around him, but still not so sure of yourself if it really was him responsible for it. Knowing how easily it can get under your skin.

He tsked at your hands gripping onto his wrists, his tendrils making an appearance and snatching them away, making your entire torso fully vulnerable. However, he did not continue on with his attack and instead watched you struggle a little, chuckling under his breath.

“Why are yohou doing this?” You say, a nervous giggle tittering out because anyone would be a fool to think his onslaught ends there. Alastor traces his fingers alongside your neck up till it reaches under your chin, which tickles like hell.

“You’ve been far too tensed recently, and there should be none of that.” A calm tone in his voice, acting like he’s not about to bring you into a breathless mess. “And you think what you’ve been doing to me over the last couple of days was making me less tense?” You shot a glare, but it bounced right off of him.

Shrugging his shoulders, Alastor tiptoed his fingers on your tricep all the way down to right on the soft spot of your underarms, causing you to violently jolt. “I thought my little game was helping, with all your delightful short squeals you’ve been giving me. hmm, what does it sound like again?”

His fingers, more like claws, resting on your underarms started scratching, not disappointing him when you squealed just like he predicted. Alastor pressed his fingers in a little deeper, searching for a more boisterous laugh. Your true real laugh that you’ve been choking back lately because of how badly it made you feel insecure.

You did not fail him with his goal. You laughed a little harder and tugged on the restraints on your wrists a little harder, but wherever you move, his hands follow. “I must say Y/N, your laugh is like music to my ears. Shall we have everyone else listen?” He sways his radio stick closer to you, but you shake your head desperately.

“Nohoho! Plehehease!” It was a little humiliating, but you were already getting close to your limit. On earth, friends and family recognized how you were more ticklish than the average person. You were a regular victim to tickle fights with your close loved ones, always yelling truce within five minutes. In this situation, you were a little hesitant that begging would translate to him ‘continue’.

Yet, luck was on your side since Alastor took notice you were already having slight tears mirth your eyes. Regardless, he didn’t plan on doing this for very long from the get-go. The whole thing of him brushing his hands against your sides during the trust fall was a honest mistake, but when Alastor picks up on weaknesses that people have, he puts a pin on it and takes advantage of it later down the road for his own good use. Tickling was something Alastor learned was a common weakness for most people, but the other half people rather enjoyed the feeling and the bond it creates.

For you, he already found out it was the second preference. You will never in a million years admit to it, but this entire thing seemed kind of playful to you. The kind of playful you haven’t experienced in so long. Haven’t laughed genuine in so long, and have all your ticklish spots exploited when the reason behind it is for all in good fun. And oh, to be a teasy asshole. He’s doing great in that field.

“Such a sensitive being you are. Have you always known you were this ticklish?” To be honest, you kind of wished he would stop talking. You can’t explain it, but it made everything tickle ten times worse. He’s aware. Of course he is.

You felt his hands travel to every spot that can be ticklish, quickly catching on he was in search for that one spot that can make you go ballistics. “Alastor, wahahait..” you stopped struggling awhile ago, realizing it brought you no use. He yet again ignored your giggly pleas, fueling him to keep going. The more his hands traveled down almost near your hips, the more you start to get nervous and newfound energy kicking in to pull your body away from him.

He catches on.

His next movement happened so fast, you swear it all went down in a blink. The minute he latched onto your hips, you let out a snort, cheeks forming a tint of pink. The tendrils finally release your wrists, at the same time Alastor switched up the pace and drilled his thumbs in a motioning circle. Your legs didn’t stand a chance to support you up, immediately crashing down but he did not follow.

You laid there for a moment, greedily sucking in sweet air to the point you almost thought you saw Heaven itself. When you felt like you collected yourself, you slowly sat up and moved a couple of strands away from your face to view Alastor, looming over you with his widest grin yet in his books. “Bad spot?” He tilts his head down at you, and in response you huff and roll your eyes. He lends you his hand, looking at it hesitantly before taking it. “Come now, let’s get you on your feet.”

You brushed yourself off, finding your painting propped up neatly back on the easel. Alastor follows your eyes, coming to stand next to you. “If you add a pop of red into the sunset you’re creating, I’d say it would almost look like I’m viewing out from a window. What do you say?” Raising an eyebrow, you look up at him. “Do you know how to paint?”

Alastor beams. “Not at all.”

You chuckle at that, picking up the palette and switching to a new freshly blank paper. Picking up a second paintbrush, you handed it over to the demon. “Here, I’ll teach you.”

Teaching wasn’t your strong suit, or either Alastor was seriously terrible at painting. Either way, you guys shared a couple of laughs, listened to any stories he got reminded of along the way, gladly listening. The finished product was suppose to be anything his heart desires to paint of, and after examining it for a few seconds you felt the need to ask what the hell you were looking at. To him, it’s him and his mother enjoying a warm meal of jambalaya while sitting on their front porch. To you, it’s just a big blob of bright colors, but the more you squint the more you start to see his vision and let out a small smile.

The guilt of judging him way too harshly off the bat started to set in. You tried not to blame yourself too much, because if anyone heard the tales and myths you’ve been hearing about The Radio Demon, anyone would jump at the sight of him. Although, there’s one thing you always believed in people: Second Chances.

If everyone at the hotel did not see a problem with not only having him stay, but having him help out a tremendous amount to have Hazbin live up to its full potential, then that must mean they all put a lot of trust in the guy. Charlie specifically, and although people might say she’s naive, she’s not dumb. If putting full trust in Alastor was a mistake, she would’ve taken care of that a long time ago.

However, trust is a sensitive topic for you. Alastor has a long way of achieving that, but for now the time you’re spending with him is something you’ll smile to yourself later tonight.

Maybe The Hazbin Hotel has already started to redeem some qualities of yourself you thought you would never get to see.

[mystey-here]

RAHHHHHH

Unforeseen of events- (Hazbin Hotel tickle fic)

A/N: To the people who saw the video I posted, yes you already know what this is about.

Summary: Charlie thinks of the perfect way to get Alastor. A good old fashion tickle attack. But what happens when the odds aren't in her favor?

Ler Alastor Lee Charlie

Charlie giggled silently, an evil grin on her face as she slowly crept up behind the Radio Demon. The demon princess was in the mood to tickle her radio friend. She had already gotten Vaggie, Angel, and Husk. Her next target was Alastor. Ohhh she was so excited.

The Radio Demon silently stood near the bar of the hotel, minding his own business as usual as he hummed a soft tune. Charlie was now inches away from the unsuspecting demon, her fingers wiggling with anticipation. Once the princess was close enough, she struck.

"Tickle tickle tickle!" she giggled as her fingers made contact with Alastor's sides. Alastor flinched and let out a small squeak but that was as close as the princess was going to get. Alastor slightly turned his head and raised his brow as he watched Charlie attempt to tickle him. He allowed her to try for a few more moments until he cleared his throat. Charlie tilted her head in confusion, squeezing his sides to see if this was a joke. The princess gasped. "You're not ticklish Al?" she asked in defeat. This time, the Radio Demon did laugh. "No my dear. I haven't been ticklish in a long time."

"Hmph!" Charlie said with a pout. She really thought she'd get them all. But then one of them just happened to be...not ticklish. How is someone NOT ticklish?

Alastor couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction when he suddenly got an idea of his own. "Oh Charlie~" Charlie raised her brow this time as Alastor slowly stalked towards. "What did I say about you not smiling?" Charlie opened her mouth to answer until she noticed the glint in his eyes. "Oh shit." she cursed, backing away a few steps. Alastor only stalked closer. "H-Hey Al. I-I know what you're thinking."

"You do, your highness?" he asked so casually, only a few steps away from her now. Charlie gulped and gave him a nervous smile and almost matched his. "Al, please don't I'm-AHHHHHH!" There was no warning from the Radio Demon. Alastor's hands struck the princess's sides and soon, Charlie was now a giggling mess.

Alastor couldn't help but laugh along with her. "Oh look at you. You're so ticklish princess."

"Nohohohohoho I'm nohohohohohohot!" Alastor didn't even bother to comment on her pathetic lie. Charlie tried and failed to push his hands away, but whenever she's make contact with them, Alastor would switch it up, attacking her armpits and her lower ribs.

"Goochie goochie goo. Who's our ticklish princess? Who's our ticklish princess?" Alastor began to tease as Charlie all but screamed when he moved to her stomach. "NOHOHOHOHOHOHO TIHIHIHIHIHICKLIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHING!!!!" Charlie cried as Alastor only laughed. "Oh but Charlie, you know it's only fair."

"NOHOHOHOHO IHIHIHIT'S NOHOHOHOHOT!!!"

"Yes it is. But I'll show you what isn't fair." Alastor replied before swooping up the giggly princess and placing her on the couch. Charlie giggled and wiggled to get out of the deer demon's hold, but he was stronger than he looked. "Hold her down boys." he said as she shadow grabbed her arms and tied them together above her head. Alastor smirked when he saw Charlie's scared but also excited face. "Please Al. Whatever you're doing, don't do it."

"And what makes you think I'd listen to you?" Alastor asked as Charlie only gulped. "B-Because I'm the Princess of Hell. A-As your princess, I-AHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Charlie didn't finish her threat, for her serial killer friend had already began to stroke his fingers all over the princess's belly. "Awwww, is the little princess's belly her most ticklish spot?" He didn't get an answer from her. Charlie only laughed freely, struggling to get out of his shadows' hold. Alastor silently commanded one of his shadow's to cover her eyes. Charlie screamed when she could only see darkness. "ALASTOR!!!" The Radio Demon slowly lifted the princess's shirt, allowing the cool air to make her shudder. "W-What're you doing?" she asked, but Alastor didn't answer directly. Instead, he only stroke his fingers on her bare tummy, making the princess really laugh her ass off. "I'm gonna get your belly~" Charlie knew that teasing voice all too well. He said it the same way he did when he and him made that deal. At this point, Charlie's struggles began to increase. "Al, no please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"There's no mercy in hell dear. Even you should know that." Alastor said before he engulfed a breath of air and slammed his mouth down on the princess's abdomen. Alastor's ears twitched when her high pitch scream went up an octave. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ALAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASTOREHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!" Charlie screamed for dear life, her arms tugging hard on the shadows. Showing some mercy, Alastor released the bind from her wrist, allowing the princess to attempt to push his head off. It was futile though for whenever she thought Alastor was finished, he'd blow another raspberry just to make her scream. It wasn't until the princess started banging on his head like a drum that Alastor decided to call it quits.

The Radio Demon gave one last short raspberry on her bellybutton before pulling her shirt back down and staring at the teary eyed princess. Charlie was still in a fit of giggles, the shock clearly still there. Alastor smirked. "There you go. Now, you're fully dressed." Charlie only rolled her eyes as the Radio Demon got off the couch. Alastor intentionally grasped her tummy, making her squeal and wrapping her arms around her stomach. "Just remember dear~" he began to say before he left. "Make sure you're always fully dressed. Or else, you'd like for me to...help." he said before Charlie squealed and raced out of the main lobby of the hotel, eager to escape the tickly fingers of the Radio Demon.

[mystey-here]

RAHHH

Em hazbin hotel brain rot go mad hard /t

Yes, so much so in fact that I saved this ask purely so I can talk about some hcs I have. This will be a mess and is purely about Alastor, I apologize.

He is such a ler leaning switch. Like excuse me no one gets to be as teasing as this demon man thing without exuding the energy of "I have no issues grabbing you and wrecking your shit"

He even has freaking tentacles like???? it's perfect. Alastor is perfect and can do no wrong (yes I have a favorite character)

Alastor love love loves to tease his lee too, his favorite thing is to compliment the lee's smile bc yk "you're never fully dressed without a smile" and all that.

He doesn't just go straight in for the kill too, he'll build up to it.

Alastor would 100% spend the whole day coming up behind you or next to you and "accidentally" brushing his claw across your side or over your shoulder blades or down your back. He knows exactly what he's doing, though, and is just waiting for later when you finally go over to him, all flustered from his day of teasing and in need of a proper tickling.

A chronic wiggler of fingers over ticklish spots until you tell him to just do it already.

Once he starts though, oh boy

Alastor can and will turn you into a giggly mess and won't stop until he does so <3

His lee moods are rare but hit hard.

Al is very particular about who can tickle him, though, like he has to really let you. As such, there's not many that even know he's ticklish.

His number one ler is Rosie, we love the besties. He doesn't ever tell her he's in a mood, she just looks at him and knows, and it's kinda flustering for him, but he's not about to tell her that.

Ticklish ears <333 they make him melty and giggly.

He has kinda ticklish cheeks, but it's another melt spot so it's not that obvious.

His sides however... let's just say there's a reason that's his usual first place to target on a lee.

Pls send me asks to talk about him and other characters I have fallen in love with hazbin and have so many thoughts both coherent and otherwise

[mystey-here]

LEES GUESS WHAT I FOUND!!!!

(Skip to 0:50 for the best part)

#screaming crying throwing up

[mystey-here]

ler alastor ler alastor ler alastor

#ler alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel tickle

[mystey-here]

REAL

It would be so much easier to find tickle partners irl if when we were within proximity we all got that same tingle sensation that spider-mans get when they’re around each other

[mystey-here]

yk what would be good for the stress? getting wrecked. yk the last time i got wrecked? JUNE. ITS BEEN CLOSE TO TEN MONTHS SINCE I WAS LAST TICKLED FOR MORE THAN 2 SECONDS. I AM TOUCH DEPRIVED. STARVED, EVEN.

#istg i only ever date people because i want someone to tickle me and that i can hug #that’s it