#rey writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myreygn · 7 months

Text

tkltober day 5: "I'm not ticklish!"

Across the Spiderverse - ler!Pavitr, lee!Hobie

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

“You should try.”

“I think you should, actually.”

“Are you crazy?! No!”

“Whoʼs crazy?” Pavitr grinned when both Gwen and Miles turned to him with a shocked expression on their faces. He had been working on his stealth skills and apparently the training was already paying off.

“Gwen is!” Miles regained his composure a little quicker. “Sheʼs telling me to tickle Hobie!”

He yelped when Gwen hit him in the shoulder. “Duh, you were the one who said that thereʼs absolutely no way Hobie isnʼt ticklish! If youʼre so sure, why are you so scared?”

“Iʼm not scared, I just think you should do it because you were like 'Hobie would totally not be mad at me if I tried to tickle him'!”

“I never said that! And my voice does not sound like that!”

“Yes it does!”

“No it doesnʼt! Stop changing the topic!”

“The topic of how youʼre gonna go and tickle Hobie?”

“I said no! You do it!”

“Iʼll do it.”

A beat of stunned silence, then Miles looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?! Youʼre the crazy one!”

Pavitr just shrugged. “Nah, donʼt worry about me. Like you said, thereʼs no way Hobie isnʼt ticklish. If he really wasnʼt, he wouldnʼt make a point of telling us so whenever the topic comes up.”

“Still,” Gwen chimed in from the side, “Hobieʼs stronger than you, heʼll overpower you.”

“Not if Iʼm faster.” Deciding that that was a good exit line, Pavitr used his webs to attach himself to the ceiling and then began crawling out of the living room and towards the kitchen where Hobie was busy fiddling with the stove, unaware of his impending doom.

Gwen and Miles were huddling up at the door to try and get a glimpse of what was going on. Hobie definitely noticed them, judging by the small smile tugging at his lips, but that wasnʼt a big deal. If anything they were further distracting him and while Hobie had a Spidey-sense of course, Pavitr had one too; he had a pretty good idea of when it would kick in. So when a barely noticeable flinch went through the punkʼs body, Pavitr was ready to strike.

“Pav, what the fuck!”

“Shh, just ignore me.” Pavitr wasted no time, immediately sticking his fingers under Hobie’s arms and feeling the punk stiffen. Aha. “I’m just running a test.”

“Pahav, what are you doihing- get off of me!”

“Nope.” Pavitr couldn’t help the big grin spreading across his face. That had definitely been a giggle! Determined, he stopped wiggling into his friend’s armpits and let his hands wander down the ever so slightly trembling torso. If there was a spot that made Hobie giggle, there had to be a spot that made him laugh!

Although his ribs apparently weren’t it. Pavitr felt his enthusiasm fade away slowly and by the time he had reached the sides, Hobie had already turned around, his arms crossed in front of his chest and cockily smirking down at him. “Nice try, muppet. You know I’m not ticklish.”

“Uhm… I tried my best?” Pavitr’s fingers slowly came to a stop and he gulped. Not good. He had to think fast.

Hobie cracked his knuckles. Shit. “Yeah well, your best wasn’t good enough.”

“Then maybe this will be.” It was an act of desperation, bringing his hands down and squeezing the older boy’s hips; a final attempt to maybe, somehow, distract him enough to get a bit of a head start. Safe to say Pavitr was absolutely amazed when Hobie toppled over with a squeal.

“AEEE- PAHAHAHAV!”

“Why dear friend, that’s my name. How may I help you?” Not giving the punk a chance to turn the tables on him, Pavitr continued to prod and squeeze at his hip bones, carefully guiding his head away from the cupboards when Hobie went down. “I thought you said you weren’t ticklish.”

“IHI LIHIED, I LIHIHIED! PAHAHAHAV!”

“Tsk tsk, you know lying isn’t very nice.”

“NOHOHOT THE HIHIHIPS!”

“Hm, yes the hips.” Pavitr flashed a toothy ‘told you so’ grin at Gwen and Miles. “Wanna help?”

#this is late because of stupid wifi i apologize #i'll get 6 and 7 out too dw #rey writes #augtickletober2023 #tickletober #tkltober #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv #pavitr prabhakar #hobie brown #ler!pavitr #lee!hobie #ticklish!hobie

101 notes · View notes

vulturereyy · 3 months

Text

Finally posted a little horror oneshot from wip hell. Inspired by/intended as an homage to my favorite short story by Jack London, To Build a Fire.

Definitely wasn't meant to be out on halloween

#rey writes #hollow knight #hollow knight fanfic #hk fanfic #hk pk #hk pale king #the pale king #hk oc #hk writing #fanfiction #horror

44 notes · View notes

ninja-grace · 13 days

Text

hihihihihiii :3

#rey writes

13 notes · View notes

reywritesstuff · 8 months

Note

I know you were asking about the hurt/comfort prompt for last night, but if you're still doing it could you do #14? 🥺🤗 thanks!

OKAY! so this is definitely NOT a drabble. Try more like almost 700 words lollll. But here, have some Orym and Dorian feels!!

“Your hair is a mess,” Orym says suddenly one night early into their travels together, after a long day of trudging through tangled branches and trailing leaves. Dorian huffs, hating the reminder.

“I know, I hate when it gets messy like this,” he grumbles, sitting down on the bed and starting to painstakingly separate twigs and leaves and tangled knots from his hair. Orym chuckles from the other side of the room as he takes off his armor.

“Will always got so many leaves tangled in his hair, too, I always told him to cut it but he refused, so I always made him let me braid it for him. Whenever he tried it just fell out in five minutes,” he says softly, a small smile on his lips as he recalled his stubborn love. He looks up when Dorian makes a small sound of frustration at a particularly nasty tangle in his hair, and he laughs softly again. “Here, let me help.”

“Oh! No that’s okay, you don’t–” Dorian tries to nonchalantly protest, but Orym just waved aside his protest like it’s nothing. And to Orym, he’s sure it truly is nothing. This is something kind to do for a friend, Dorian knows this. But he can’t help how he freezes in place when Orym sits behind him. He hates it, hates how quickly he’s transported back to being a child with his hair being yanked and pulled and painfully detangled without any care or thought. And he hates how easily Orym can read him. He feels the way Orym’s fingers still just before reaching his hair.

“Dorian?” Orym asks softly, confusion and concern lacing his words. “Is this okay?” He asks carefully, and Dorian hates the way he feels right now.

“I’m fine, it’s just… I don’t usually like… people touching my hair,” he explains lamely, knowing it’s not even remotely a fraction of what the real issue is but not really knowing what else to say. But Orym, gods bless him, somehow immediately understands.

“I won’t hurt you,” Orym says so achingly gently, and Dorian somehow immediately trusts him. He forces his shoulders to relax, closing his eyes tight as Orym starts carefully detangling each individual strand of Dorian’s hair. It’s a surreal experience. Dorian’s never felt anybody handle his hair with such care and gentleness before. His mother had always demanded he cut it, to make the nannies’ lives easier, but Dorian could never bring himself to cut it. So his nursemaids and nannies, and sometimes his own mother, had simply taken their frustrations out on his hair. But Orym? Orym made it feel like this was a luxury.

Dorian isn’t sure when Orym finishes detangling it, but eventually he realizes that Orym has started braiding his hair. Dorian is surprised, given the last time someone tried braiding his hair for him there was a lot more crying and yelling involved. Instead, Dorian notices Orym is humming happily under his breath, and he smells the light fragrance of flowers.

“Do I smell flowers?” He asks suddenly, so thrown by the novelty of this that he can’t even stop it. Orym’s fingers still for a moment mid-braid, and he chuckles softly.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, old habits,” he says shyly. “I used to do this for Will and my sisters, i always druidcrafted some flowers into the braids,” he continues, and Dorian feels warm inside thinking about Orym doing the same thing for him he used to do for his family.

“It’s okay, I like it. I just wasn’t expecting it,” Dorian assures him, and Orym continues humming softly as he continues braiding. Dorian lets himself relax even more, almost leaning back into Orym as he braids. He smiles to himself, listening to Orym humming a gentle melody and enjoying the way it feels to have his taken care of so well. So this is what it feels like to have people who care about you, he thinks to himself. He finds he quite enjoys it.

#rey writes #cr fic #critical role #cr #my fic #critical role fic #whump #h/c #orym of the air ashari #orym #dorian storm #orym & dorian #dorym #cr3 #cr3 fic #answered

27 notes · View notes

necromancers-incorporated · 18 days

Text

Woohoo, guess who wrote something!? I have a much nicer tmagp oneshot on its way too (thanks to @thermodynamic-comedian for the inspiration for that, thought you might like this too)

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #gwen bouchard #alice dyer #sam khalid #celia ripley #tmagp fic #mr bonzo #elias bouchard #tmagp theory #rey writes

6 notes · View notes

reyxlight · 2 months

Text

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 || 𝗧𝗟𝗢𝗦 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗖

A Xanthous x Lampton fanfic

TW ;; death, mentions of war

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 the courtyard. It had been a while since he felt this sense of panic. Fear consuming him over the status of his lover. He had to be alive…Xanthous probably wouldn’t be able to handle loss.

Wouldn’t be able to handle it? What was he even thinking? He's lived for centuries, experienced countless deaths…why would this one be any different? He frowned at this realisation. What made this different? Why was Xanthous…scared?

“Sir Xanthous?"

The yellow fairy turned, and it didn't take long for the joy and relief to be seen on his face. “Lampton.” he responded, feeling much more at ease.

The two embraced and for a moment, all that fear that Xanthous felt earlier washed away. He was left feeling the serenity of his lover’s warm hold.

But that serenity didn’t last long. Xanthous pulled away from the hug and looked into the hazel eyes that were in front of him. “Is everything alright in the Charming Kingdom? How are your troupes?”

“Fine as of right now. However I fear the worst is yet to come. Everyone has their guard up. What about the Council? I imagine you are all equally piled up with work.”

Xanthous nodded with a sigh. “Unfortunately so.”

The two sat on a bench in the courtyard, staring up at the night sky. The silence was nice, it felt like someone had put a pause on the problems in the world to let the two men have a moment of peace next to each other. Xanthous glanced over at Lampton as a thought crossed his mind. “Gosh, you’re so handsome.”

Xanthous saw his red eyes in the reflection of Lampton’s hazel ones as the realisation hit. “I think I just said that out loud, didn't I?”

He responded with a wide grin. “Yeah.”

Xanthous leaned down and nestled his head on Lampton’s shoulder. He paid extra care in making sure he was keeping his flames in control so as to not hurt the head of the royal guard. The duo continued to sit in silence before hearing someone call for Lampton.

They got up and brushed off. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you next in battle?”

Lampton nodded. “We will come out of this victorious.”

“I hope so. I do not wish for everyone’s efforts to be in vain.”

“Indeed..” after a pause, Lampton walked off, turning behind before he was out of sight. “See you on the other side.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

The middle of a war is never exciting. Most are used to the constant pattern of fighting day in and day out and nothing seems interesting anymore. So it was safe to assume everyone was very eager for the final battle to commence. That would determine a winner. That would end this whole mess.

So when the literary army announced the final battle to occur that night, everyone felt the anticipation. The eagerness to be free of the tyranny that was the villains’ rule.

After hours of hard work and determination, the literary army saw its demise. Crowds of people cheered as the war came to an end. Joy could be felt all across the kingdom as every village and town celebrated this victory.

The fairy council walked around the Charming Kingdom, checking up on the residents and inspecting the casualties. As they arrived at the Palace, Xanthous heard a familiar voice call his name. Upon the sight of Sir Lampton, Emerelda looked over to the council and said, “We should head into the Palace and check on the royal family. Xanthous, why don’t you check in on the guards?”

She gave him a knowing smile as she led the rest of the council into the throne room. Xanthous prayed that his face wasn't as flushed as he felt it was. He turned to Lampton and smiled.

“We won.” The soldier had a joyous grin.

The two embraced in a hug before pulling away slightly and sharing a kiss. A tender moment for the couple. However as Xanthous looked at Lampton, he watched as the hazel eyes widened in shock. He felt himself get pushed to the side.

His sight was blurry, voices muffled. All he heard was the sound of Lampton telling him to watch out. Xanthous watched as the guard’s body was seen dropping to the ground. Rage consumed Xanthous and before he knew what had truly happened, he watched a member of the Playing Card Army fall to the ground as well. Fairy Council members, the royal guard and the royal family rushed outside to figure out why there was so much commotion.

Xanthous was by Lampton’s side. The soldier had an arrow impaled in him. He was still smiling. Xanthous cradled Lampton in his arms. At that moment, he did not care about his relationship being secretive. None of that mattered.

“Stay with me.” He hugged Lampton tightly. “Please.”

“I'm fine Sir Xanthous, really.”

“Stop saying I’m fine when you’re not.” Xanthous held his clothes close to the wound to stop any further bleeding. “It’s fine to say I’m not fine.”

Lampton felt his own breath slow down. “Perhaps..I’m not fine..”

Xanthous hated those words more. But he didn’t say it. Instead he turned to the Council members. He was met with various faces, none of which were hopeful for Lampton’s survival. “Why would you do that? You had so many years ahead of you. I’ve lived long enough.”

Lampton had a pained smile on his face. “I made a promise when I became a member of the royal guard….” He gasped for breath. “I would put my life on the line for anyone. And I intend to keep that promise. Besides, I would never regret saving your life dear.”

Xanthous took Lampton’s hand and pressed it on his forehead. “Still…”

“I appreciate all of you. Xanthous, thank you for showing me a new perspective on the world. But now I must join the others on a different side. Don’t let our story go unheard Xanthous. So many people lost their lives…they deserve to be remembered. Now, I get to protect them again.”

Those were the last words from Sir Lampton. Selfless, as expected from a top ranking member of the Charming Army. Xanthous watched as he felt Lampton go limp in his arms. He felt the tears and did not attempt to stop them.

He knew what he had to do. He learnt why this love was different from the rest. Sure, he was scared. And yes, he had seen countless deaths over the years. But he learnt through his relationship with Lampton that his purpose was to keep their legacy alive. Xanthous knew that no one would ever forget Lampton, or any of the fighters of the war for that matter, and their service. He would make sure of it. That was part of his role. And he intended to keep his promise till he took his last breath. Just like Lampton did to save him.

Well that was fun :D

This was a fic i wrote for @timecma for his birthday last year (yes…i wrote character death…for a birthday present- listen i gotta stay true to my writing style alright/j). this fic took me…5? months to write mainly because it was during my writing block months right after some of my exams. have i gotten out of writing block? hahaha no. it’s unfortunately…still haunting me….some day…some day.

Anyways another land of stores related post. it’s something i’ve been able to work on slightly more recently thanks to my friends who are tlos fans cause i can get the motivation and ideas easily. and i have stuff to make for the fandom thanks to this motivation ^^

now it might actually be a while till i post next due to mock exam prep but till we meet again <3

#rey writes #xanthous hayfield #lampton #xanthous x lampton fic #fanfic #the land of stories #tlos #a tale of sorcery #stan cyrus !!#fanfiction #fandom #my writing #writing #writeblr

13 notes · View notes

stormdnerys · 4 months

Text

—Daenerys, The Conqueror

"Is his presence not a danger to her reign?" Lady Sansa spoke again after Tyrion was deep in thought trying to make sense of such an absurd situation. His little brother never liked things he couldn't control. "The laws favor men over women, the men of Westeros will not accept her as Queen if there is a Targaryen man, bastard or not." Her tone was bitter, she probably spoke from experience but Jaime couldn't help but watch her with a raised eyebrow. Was he the only one who really paid attention to the gathering, to the fierce dance Daemon Targaryen staged in the Great Hall?

The man, rightful or not, declared her Conqueror in front of one of the most rebellious lands, brought her the allies she probably thought she had lost in her war with the Lannisters, supporters who were part of the Seven Kingdoms and had strong enemies in common. Princess Arianne's words were not brash or empty, it had been chosen wisely.

Even bringing in the two little deer bastards of the former king was a careful, and stunningly devastating move that took by surprise everyone who was desperately trying to regain some of the control they lost so dismally in the Game of Thrones.

It didn't matter at all whether Daemon was a Targaryen or not, if they intended to use the old King's bastards against her, making their presences known left a clear message: Daenerys Targaryen was a Conqueror by right and the alternative to not accepting her as Queen was war.

Was the North ready to go to war against the Dragon Queen?

#rey writes #2dae #daenerys targaryen #daemon targaryen #soon hopefully

8 notes · View notes

by-bi-burden · 10 months

Text

Thinking about how I dated a cop for two years and one time we were shopping for snow clothes and he put on a pair of black gloves that he really loved and fit him perfectly and when he went to look at the price he realized that the tag said "women's gloves" so he put them back and then spent a literal hour trying to find the same exact pair "for men" and I think that perfectly encapsulates the american police ego

#Cops #'Murica #He couldn't find them and ended up skiing without gloves #To prove his manhood I guess?#Men are weird #Rey writes #Feel free to reblog

0 notes

joytri · 3 months

Text

most ardently

3K notes · View notes

dollkisses05 · 17 days

Text

need someone obsessed with me in a very poetic and unfortunate way

1K notes · View notes

reybeeze · 4 months

Text

new book smell is HEAVENLY

#books #reading #rey writes

1K notes · View notes

myreygn · 4 months

Note

YOUR LEE ENMU FIC WAS AMAZING AND I LOVED IT SO MUCH IT WAS WONDERFUL

I gotta ask,,,, if you're up for it, could you write something with ler!Douma and lee!Akaza cuz I just know Douma is a master tickle monster and poor Akaza is so ticklish sosjjsjdhdbd thank u in advance *smooches on the cheek*

Cracks

summary: It's not often that there's room for fooling around and goofing off amongst Lord Muzan's elite troup, but every now and then, Douma likes to have a little fun. Every now and then, Akaza likes to indulge him.

an: this took me way too long and i'm really really sorry about that - i hope you like it anyway and you had wonderful holidays!

wordcount: 1705

taglist: @giggly-squiggily, @rachi-roo

¸¸��·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬¸¸

Douma was not easily entertained. Most of the things the average person would deem exciting were prone to boring him to death and more often than not he found himself zoning out during the most random times, because he was surrounded by such a lack of stimulation that it was truly astounding all by itself.

However, there were a few things that were amusing to him. Humans could be very entertaining from time to time; desperate humans and scared humans were his favorite kind. Waterfalls, waterfalls were really pretty. Bumblebees. The sheer concept of bumblebees was hysterical. His very favorite thing in the entire world though was cracking. Cracking horrible jokes. Cracking heads. Cracking his fellow Upper Moons.

Well, not all of them. There was a huge difference between making someone crack and making someone crumble, that difference mainly being who he was working with.

For example, making Kokushibo crack wasnʼt as fun as making him crumble. Kokushibo was stoic, emotionless and reserved. Seeing him explode into anger, laughter, tears, or anything of the like all of a sudden was interesting, sure, but it wasn’t fun because the buildup was too subtle to notice (even for Douma). But if you made him crumble, the slow process of Kokushibo’s walls being brought down became visible - bit by bit, brick by brick.

And then, there was the other end of the spectrum.

Douma almost felt giddy with excitement as he shuffled around in his place, watching the door with impatience. Any minute now, any minute… aha!

“Urgh, what are you doing here?” Akaza rolled his eyes the second they met Douma’s gaze, but Upper Moon Two didn’t waste any time feeling attacked by that. Within the blink of an eye he was at the shorter demon’s side, throwing an arm around his shoulders and putting his entire weight onto him. He knew Akaza could handle it, he just wanted to invade his personal space a little. Invading the personal space of others was another thing that made immortality worthwhile.

“Why, I’m here for the meeting of course. We’re both early birds today, aren’t we?”

“Do not call me that.”

Oh oh oh, Akaza was playing grumpy again. Emphasis on playing; if he were truly not in the mood for shenanigans, he would’ve pushed him away by now, or taken his head off at the very least. Douma smirked. He had a playful Akaza on his hands, what a lucky lucky day it was.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

If looks could kill… well, he’d be no more dead than before, but Akaza was certainly trying his best. Adorable.

“If you could just stop talking to me, that would be great, thanks.”

What a perfect setup. It was almost like Akaza wanted this to happen.

“Alright, let’s stop talking.”

A thing that only very very few people knew: Akaza was not immune to tomfoolery. Douma had caught him goofing around with Rui, Kaigaku and even Daki and Gyutaro several times and on rare occasions, he had even indulged in Douma’s own jabs and jokes instead of blowing up immediately.

Because blowing up, yes, that was what Akaza was known for the most amongst them, wasn’t it. And watching him blow up was charming, sure, but what Douma loved most was the thing right before the big explosion. That moment of realization when Akaza became aware of the incoming explosion and tried to stop it. The way he gave everything to not let it happen and the way it was never enough. Delicious.

Akaza flinched and his hands shot down to grab Douma’s wrists. “Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything, Akaza-dono.” It wasn’t even a lie. Alright, maybe he had curled his fingers into the lower ranked demon’s waist just a moment ago, but right now he wasn’t doing anything. Just resting his fingers on Akaza’s sides. And despite the vice grip on his wrists, they weren’t being pulled off. Hm-hm.

A full body spasm nearly had Upper Three slip away from him when he curled his fingers again, but Douma was very skilled in using a lot of strength and making it look like nothing. In other words, holding Akaza secure with just his fingers had the added fun bonus of infuriating him. “Douma, if you don’t stop that-”

“Stop what? You’ll need to be more specific- oh, this?” He smirked when a soft yelp slipped out of Akaza’s mouth. “Surely that’s nothing to you, Akaza-dono. I’m just stretching my hands.”

Douma carefully increased the pressure of his fingers digging into the pale flesh of his subordinate. Even though Akaza was facing away from him, his back pressed against Douma’s chest with no way to hide his trembles and flinches, Douma had a good idea what his expression looked like. He could see Akaza’s flushed neck and ears, the way he bit his cheek. And now, he just had to-

“EAH!”

Ah, yes, there it was. The crack. Akaza had such a temper, cracking him with a few cleverly, and even not so cleverly, placed comments was easy. But it also got boring very quickly and besides, this was by far the best way to make him crack.

Douma smirked to himself as he clawed on one of his very favorite spots on Akaza’s body. Stomach never disappoints… “What is it, Akaza-dono? Too ticklish?”

“YOHOU KNOW IHIT IS- DOUMAHAHAH!”

Hell yeah he knew that. Upper Two allowed himself to giggle in glee - not that Akaza could hear him with his booming laughter filling the Infinity Castle. He wrapped an arm around the smaller demon’s torso when his struggling got too intense to hold back with just his fingers and used his free hand to continue the tickling of his stomach. Delightful.

“DOHOHOUMAHAHAHAHAH, NAHAHAHAT- TOO MUHUHUHUCH!”

“Alright, alright.” Douma carefully guided the hysterical demon to the ground when his knees got weak and took a seat on his thighs to secure him, then he immediately latched his wiggling fingers onto Akaza’s ribs so he wouldn’t get a chance to recover and slip away. The reaction was instant.

“Yohohou piece ohof- nahahahah!”

“Oh but you can handle it, can’t you?” Douma grinned down at his victim’s flushed face, making sure to give the spaces in between his ribs extra attention. Once the cracking was complete, once the dam had broken, it was nearly impossible for Akaza to compose himself or hold himself back in any way.

That applied to movement as well. Douma let out a grunt when he got kneed in the back; he actually had to put in effort to hold Akaza down, that wasn’t often the case. Maybe his tickling was just especially good today. Judging by the way Akaza was howling when he moved his hands upwards to scratch at the space between his ribs and armpits, that was the case.

“Nahahahahat thehehehere! Yohou ahahahahass!”

“I don’t think you want to insult me right now.” Douma smirked and grabbed one of Akaza’s wrists, surprising him enough to pull it up and dig into his armpit. “I know thinking can be a hard thing to do for you, but that’s really not smart.”

Akaza shrieked and nearly threw Douma off with how hard he was bucking. “GEAHAHAHAH- GEHEHEHEHET OHOUT OF THEHEHEHERE! NAHAHAHAT THERE, DOHOUMAHAHAHAH!”

“Man, you’re really difficult today.” Douma mock-sighed and stayed at the spot a little longer before scribbling Akaza’s stomach and quickly moved on to squeeze his hips instead when the trapped demon let out a sound close to a sob. “Not here, not there… how about here?”

The hips still had Akaza giggling like crazy, but he was not nearly as hysterical as he had been before. Douma couldn’t help but smile a bit. “You look nice like this, Akaza-dono. With your face so flushed.”

The blush only intensified and Akaza even tried to hide his face - unsuccessful. “Sh-shuhuhut uhu- EEK!”

“Was that a squeak?” Douma let out an evil chuckle. “Then I guess that’s my sign.”

“Yohour sign to wha- Douma, no, nononono, do nAHAHAHAHAH- DOUMAHAHAHAHAH, FUHUHUHUCKIHING HEHEHELL!” Hysterical couldn’t even begin to describe it. Akaza threw his head back, cackling and howling and squealing all at once, even a snort breaking throw here and there; his back arched and he twisted around to try and avoid the horribly ticklish fingers scribbling over his stripes with the lightness of a feather.

Upper Two smirked - he was barely touching Akaza, yet had him in stitches anyway. He had been avoiding the tattoos, these absolute platinum tickle spots on his subordinate’s already sensitive body, as much as possible to save the best for last. And the best it truly was. He watched in awe how tears of laughter spilled down Akaza’s flushed cheeks. That meant he would soon-

“DOHOHOUMAHAHAHAH, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

Yup, there it was. Playful or not, if he started begging it meant that Akaza had truly reached his limits. Douma gave the stripe he was tormenting one last scratch, then he took his hands off and stood up, giving him some space to recover.

Being a demon and all, that recovery only took Akaza about two seconds and Douma couldn’t even react when the smaller demon jumped up and pounced on him, glaring down at him from where he was crouched on Douma’s chest. “You!”

“Me?” Upper Two didn’t let the sudden attack wash off his smile. It was a genuine smile for once - this little encounter had significantly heightened his mood and despite the scowl on Akaza’s face, he could tell he felt the same.

The sound of Nakime’s biwa in the distance and the following bickering of two voices from next door notified them of the arrival of Daki and Gyutaro and Akaza seemed to consider his next move for a moment, then he snarled and got up. “I’ll get you back, jerk.”

Douma only grinned at the threat and sat up when the siblings entered the room so as to not tip them off that something unusual had happened. If he was feeling a little excited at the prospect of more goofing around with Akaza, that was their business alone, and if he caught Akaza cracking a smile as he turned away, no one needed to know.

#rey writes #tword fic #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny fic #upper moons #douma #akaza #ler!douma #lee!akaza #ticklish!akaza #this is my first time writing lee akaza can yall believe it #it lowkey terrifies me that demon slayer is all i ever talk about and i have like. five fics on it.#we oughta change that

50 notes · View notes