The Akademiya was unusually quiet today. No bustling researchers, no loud debates spilling into the corridors, no overexcited students sprinting between their lectures. Just a few rustling leaves and the slow hum of the desert wind from the far distance. It made Wanderer’s room feel even more still than usual - Too still, Durin thought.

He pushed open the door without knocking, a habit Wanderer pretended to despise but never actually stopped. “Hat Guy? I’m here,” he called out lightly, peeking inside.

Wanderer sat at his desk, back rigid and shoulders tense, staring out the window with a scowl that wasn’t his usual scowl. His normal irritation had a bite of arrogance, disdain, even amusement. This one… sagged at the edges. Quiet. Sulky, even.

Durin blinked, his head tilting. “You look weird.” Wanderer’s glare flicked over. “Wonderful. Just what I needed. A lizard-brained dragon trying to analyze my expression.” “Mm. Definitely weird,” Durin concluded cheerfully, unbothered by the comment, as he stepped further inside, leaves his boots at the entrance, “but I brought snacks.”

The ravenhead didn’t even acknowledge the gesture. He just crossed his arms and huffed sharply through his nose. That was when Durin knew something was actually wrong. He padded closer, crouching beside Wanderer’s chair.

“Albedo taught me what to do when someone, especially a friend I’m close with, is upset,” he began in a bright, matter-of-fact voice, forming his hands to claws, wiggling them playfully at him. “Don’t,” Wanderer warned immediately, tone low and loaded. He looked the other in the eyes with a mix of fear and- was that a spark of excitement? Durin smiled.

“Don’t you dare,” Wanderer repeated, straighter now, clearly sensing danger. “Well,” Durin said as he reached out, “he said people need comfort and sometimes… tickles.” Wanderer shot up from the chair so fast it screeched. “Absolutely not!” Durin’s fingers poked lightly at his waist. A tiny, strangled sound escaped Wanderer’s lips.

He slapped both hands over his mouth instantly, face flushing. “S-Stop that! That’s childish.” Durin’s eyes sparkled. “Oh. That worked better than I thought.” “I SAID-” Wanderer tried to take a step back, but Durin darted in again, fingers skimming teasingly at the sides of his ribs.

“Hn! Durin!” Wanderer stiffened like someone had run a current through him, his breath hitching hard. He twisted away quickly, retreating toward the bed. Giggles - small, unwilling, furious - tried to slip out, and he bit down on them. “Oooh,” Durin sing-songed, “you’re really trying not to laugh, huh? Albedo said that it isn’t good to try hiding it!”

What the hell had he been teaching him?! “You are not allowed,” Wanderer sputtered, retreating further and further until the back of his knees hit the mattress. Durin seized the opportunity. A gentle shove - nothing forceful, nothing Wanderer couldn’t resist if he truly wanted to - and he fell backward onto the bed with an indignant yelp. “AHh!”

Durin climbed onto him without hesitation, straddling his lower back as Wanderer tried to scramble away. The smaller dragon-boy easily sat his friend down, pinning him with barely any weight. “GeHeht off!” “Nope,” Durin chirped, “I’m cheering you up.” And with that, he scribbled both hands along Wanderer’s sides.

Wanderer jolted violently, a sharp gasp bursting from him. “PfFtt- AhHAHahAh! StoHop ihit! D-DuHurin!!” “Oh wow, you are ticklish,” Durin marveled, delighted, “Albedo was right. This works on everyone.”

“Th-ThiHis does not work on- ngh!” Wanderer clamped his jaw shut, shoulders trembling under him as he tried to hold back laughter with visible, desperate effort. Durin leaned down just slightly, fingers slowing into soft, purposeful circles at the dip of Wanderer's waist. “You’re shaking,” he observed warmly.

Wanderer’s hands fisted in the bedding. “I-I’m not shh-shaking…” “You’re totally shaking,” Durin said. A tiny giggle escaped. Wanderer froze, feeling caught red-handed and Durin beamed. Then he dragged his fingertips lightly up his back, slowly tracing them devilishly gentle upwards. The sensation made the other buck.

“HA! G-GeHehet OFF!!” “Oh, now you’re laughing!” Durin laughed too, delighted as he kneaded lightly along the tense muscles near the other's shoulder blades. “See? You sound happier already!” “That! Is NOT!! HnnHAHA Durin d-damn!” Wanderer whined.

He wriggled, twisted, tried to push himself up, but the purple-haired only followed the motion, adjusting his seat calmly and dragging his fingers up the sides of Wanderer’s neck. The soft and unexpected touch made the ravenhead squeak.  “Oh!!! Your neck works too?!” Durin gasped. “SHUT UP!!”

Another high-pitched giggle spilled out as Durin traced circles right beneath his ears, the spot making Wanderer kick against the blankets helplessly, face now fully crimson. He hid it by pressing half his face into the comforter. “D-Durin! St-StoHop iHihit! EHenough!” he whined, his face burning with embarrassment. Durin finally paused.

Wanderer’s panting, trembling breaths filled the room. His fingers remained curled tight in the sheets. His voice, when it came, was embarrassingly soft. “You’re such a child.” Durin smiled fondly and leaned forward, laying his chest gently against Wanderer’s back in a warm hug-like sprawl. “But your mood’s better now.”

Wanderer didn’t respond. Durin waited. Waited. Then, very softly, Wanderer muttered “…Argh! I wasn’t in a bad mood.” “You were,” Durin said gently into his shoulder, “but it’s okay. You can tell me.” A long silence. Wanderer’s shoulders rose and fell with a slow inhale, before he spoke up. “…I don’t like that you went to Mondstadt first.” Durin blinked. “Huh?”

“You came to see Albedo,” Wanderer grumbled, voice muffled, “and spent time with the Knights of Favonius and the citizens. And then finally you came here,” he whispered had the last part almost inaudibly. Durin blinked again. “Wait… are you- jealous?” Wanderer went still. Very still. “…No,” he said too fast, too stiff. Durin gasped. “You ARE!”

“I am not,” Wanderer snapped, but the defensiveness was already an answer. Durin’s expression softened. He slid his arms around Wanderer’s torso and hugged him fully from behind, cheek pressed between Wanderer’s shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently, “I didn’t mean to make you feel left out. You’re… You’re my best friend, Hat Guy. I would’ve come here first if I knew it mattered.” Wanderer’s breath stuttered. He didn’t hug back but he didn’t pull away either. “…Don’t say sappy things,” he muttered. Durin smiled. “Then… I’ll say something else instead.”

He pulled back slightly, allowing him to turn around. Durin lifted his hands, wiggling his fingers with an innocent grin. “You have five seconds~” Wanderer shot upright beneath him. “Wait. What does that-” Durin counted. “Five.” “Durin don’t-” “Four.” “I swear if you touch me again-” “Three.” “Durin!” “Two.” Wanderer froze, realization hitting too late. “One.”

Durin pounced at him once more, both hands squeezing his sides. “D-DON’T YOU- HAHAHA YOU LITTLE!!” Wanderer practically exploded, twisting under him with a torrent of laughter he couldn’t hold back this time. “AHAHAHAHAH! QUIHIT IHIHIT!” Durin only laughed with him, chasing every squirm and every gap in his defenses.

“No, I have to make it up to you for making you feel lonely~” he teased as his fingers danced along Wanderer's ribs, up his waist, back to the neck - every spot that made him jolt and squeal. “DUR- HAHAHA DURIN!! DAHAMN IT!!” Wanderer pounded weakly on the mattress.

“I’LL- EHEHHE KILL YOU WHEN I BREA-HAHAHA!!” Durin giggled joyfully. “You always say that! But you’re smiling!” And Wanderer definitely was, brightly, helplessly, genuinely.

The playful tickling continued for a while longer and even turned into a bit of wrestling where Wanderer, weakened by the ticklish assault of his friend, ended up face-down again, reduced to a giggly fit as Durin continued to wiggle his hands up and down his sides, before he finally choked out, breathless, “FI-FiHihne!! FINE!! I give!!”

The other stopped right away, causing Wanderer to collapse face-down, panting hard, ears and neck as red as the dragon-boy’s ruby eyes. Durin sat proudly atop him, grinning. “Feel better now?” Wanderer didn’t lift his head.

“…I hate you.” Durin hugged him around the waist again, cheek pressing to his back. “No you don’t.” A quiet, defeated exhale. “…No. I don’t.” Durin’s smile widened. He nuzzled lightly into Wanderer’s shoulder and Wanderer let him, feeling how the other’s closeness calmed him down. For a moment, all was warm, peaceful, strangely soft.

Then Durin chirped, “I’m still your best friend, right?” Wanderer groaned into the blankets. “If you ask me that again-” “Okay, okay! No more questions.” Durin shifted, hugging him tighter. “Just… no more sulking, or I’ll tickle your ears again.” Wanderer stiffened immediately. “Don’t you DARE, I’m serious!” Durin giggled.

And though Wanderer growled into the pillow, the room stayed warm with the quiet glow of both their smiles - until Durin’s cheerful laughter filled the room once more as Wanderer launched a sudden counterattack, fingers digging mercilessly into his sides.

“AHAHAH HAHAT GUHUY HAHAHA STOP!! IHIT TIHICKLES! I’M SORRY!!” Durin laughed, but he didn't even try to make him stop or break free. Wanderer couldn't help but grin down at him, knowing right away that he actually wanted him to tickle him back - or rather didn't mind it. His hands moved on their own, squeezing playfully the other’s flanks. It made fun.

Lucifer couldn't believe he had walked right into their trap.

He was known for his impulsiveness, his tendency to act before thinking things through, but this situation was different. The number that appeared on his phone WAS Charlie's, and the voice had certainly sounded like her.

How was he supposed to know it was all a ruse?

Still, it didn't make things any less embarrassing. No matter how convincing the trap had been, he had still fallen for it, drawn in like a fly to honey, and he was paying for his foolishness now.

Lucifer squirmed against the restrains, a snarl tearing from his throat. He could feel his power bubbling beneath his skin, on the verge of eruption, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing would happen. It had been ages since he'd felt like this, cut off from his magic, helpless. The last time had been far more pleasant; a fun little tryst with Lilith and some blessed rope, meant to spice up things in the bedroom.

Here, though? The rope practically burned his skin, holding back his thrashing magic like an overfilled damn readying to burst.

'As if I didn't have enough reasons to smite this fucker already.' Lucifer thought, eyes narrowing as the TV demon gloated and drank with his companions on the opposite side of the room. The words he would have for them, if the bastards hadn't gagged him as soon as he'd been incapacitated.

Vox's eyes met his, his smirk growing into a devilish grin. Slowly, the overlord strode over to his captive, humming a merry little tune. "I must say, your highness, I'm rather disappointed in you. I mean, I knew you were pathetic, but to be so naive? So gullible?" He crooned. "It was almost too easy to get you here."

Lucifer spat muffled curses, lurching forwards as much as the restraints allowed. This fucker was dead; the first chance he got, Lucifer would see him torn to pieces, his screen smashed in, his soul thrown into the deepest recesses of Envy's ocean. Sure, he couldn't do it himself, but he was sure he could find someone more than willing who COULD.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Vox mocked, cackling with amusement at the fury in the fallen seraphim's eyes. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot." He reached forward, tugging down the gag. "There we go."

Lucifer's eyes blazed red. "You cocky little mortal! I will destroy you!" He growled, struggles beginning anew.

"Mmm, I don't think so. See, even if I didn't have you tied up with a nice little bow, you wouldn't be able to do shit. Your wings have been clipped, your highness, need I remind you?"

He didn't care what celestial restrictions Heaven had placed on him, he would find a way to make this fucker shut his mouth if it was the last thing he did (and, going by his current position, it very well could be).

Vox eyed the trapped angel, like a cat would a mouse. "You should be grateful I'm giving you this opportunity. You're going to be part of something big, something REAL. A movement that will bring Heaven to its knees and put me at the very top. What a privilege..."

Lucifer barked out a laugh. "As if I'd help you with anything, dipshit! I'd rather die!" He jeered.

"See, here's the thing; you don't really have a choice in the matter." Vox replied, slowly circling his captive. "We need a bit of that angelic magic of yours, and we have the means to pull it from you, should you refuse to cooperate. This can be as quick or as agonizing as you'd like."

The blonde's brows furrowed as he let out a bemused snort. "As if a sinner could have such a power..."

Vox stopped behind Lucifer, just out of sight, clawed hands resting on the king's shoulders. "Oh, but I do! See, I'll let you in on a little secret. For the past several months, I've had a little spy inside your daughter's precious hotel."

Lucifer's frown deepened. A traitor?

Was it that stupid little radio host he was constantly butting heads with? Lucifer hadn't seen the him since he'd finally quit (good riddance). Had he immediately scurried off back to his master, leaking secrets as he tended his wounded pride?

Oh, when Lucifer got his hands on him, he-

Vox laughed, the sound low and menacing. "At a loss for words? It was so easy to stay ten steps ahead of your stupid little brat; she's so trusting, never suspected a thing. It seems you didn't, either."

An angered snarl erupted from Lucifer, his demonic form writhing beneath his skin in fury, begging to be freed. "Don't you fucking talk about her like that!"

"Oho, seems I hit a nerve! We'll be hitting a lot of those by the time we're done here." Claws began to drum across Lucifer's shoulders, slow and almost playful. "See, you may not want to give up your power willingly, but I happen to know another way to milk it out of you."

"What, you going to jack me off or something?" Lucifer sassed. ""Cause that's what it sounds like, and I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't work like-"

Vox scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You wish, you perverted little prick." The words came out as a borderline growl; he'd managed to get under the overlord's skin.

Good.

Slowly, the claws began to walk their way downwards, crawling across Lucifer's shoulders to rest just above his armpits. "Tell me, do you remember a certain incident from a couple weeks back? You and Alastor had gotten into another little spat, if I recall, and the princess was none too pleased."

Yes, that rang a bell, but how was this relevant? All she'd done was ask him to be kinder to the bellhop, and when he'd deflected (because there was no way in HELL he was telling that man "sorry"), she had...

Lucifer froze, eyes widening in recognition as everything clicked into place. Immediately, a bright golden blush spread across his cheeks, his struggles increasing tenfold. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn't good! "Don't you dare!"

The overlord chuckled. "Seems you do remember." Slowly, those clawed fingers came to life, beginning to spider down into the exposed hollows. "See, I'll get what I want, one way or another. Why not just give in now, save yourself the humiliation?"

The seraphim gritted his teeth, head pressed back against the chair as he stifled soft snickers. "F-Fuhuck you!" He hissed.

"You know, I was hoping you would say that."

Vox's pressure and speed increased, fingers curling as they practically vibrated into the sensitive flesh. He had experience with this, at least that's what Lucifer assumed. He was far too precise, too effective, to be a novice. The blonde shuttered to think who else had found themselves at the overlord's mercy.

"My associates and I have built a little device; perhaps you've noticed it?"

He HAD been aware of an odd pressure at the back of his neck, accompanied by a small pinch like that of a needle, but it had been the least of his concerns.

"Well, it has a very interesting little function. See, your magic can't manifest thanks to the blessed ropes, so instead it's building within you, waiting to erupt as soon as you're freed. The more distress your body is in, the more magic it'll produce in its desperate attempt to protect you. This little thing, here?" A claw moved to tap at the small, metallic device clasped at the nape of his neck. "It's going to siphon it; pull it directly from your blood while you laugh yourself silly."

"W-Why not just hurt me, then? Why thihis?"

Vox grinned wolfishly. "Hurting you would be a quicker way to induce distress, but this is far more humiliating for you, and entertaining for me."

"Shihihit!" Lucifer huffed before his mouth snapped shut once more. He could already feel titters bubbling in his chest, threatening to spill out. He couldn't break, not so soon! He was the KING of HELL, for Father's sake! He had to be better than that! Still, he felt his arms straining against the restraints, trying desperately to come down.

"Such a sensitive little thing! If I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have guessed you would be THIS WEAK!" Vox taunted, tracing little circles and triangles into the ticklish hollows. "It's almost too good to be true!"

"D-Do you ehehever stop tahahalking?" Lucifer groaned, cursing as a wave of giggles finally spilled out of him.

"You know, I really don't think you're in any position to be fucking sassing me right now." Vox's claws suddenly dug into Lucifer's armpits, vibrating and clawing ruthlessly at the sensitive nerves. That was all it took for the floodgates to open, bright, boyish laughter pouring from the king's lips. "There we go, much better."

Lucifer shook his head, trying to block out the teasing. He'd always been ticklish, even before Eden. His siblings used to love ganging up on him and tickling him to tears, but it was all in good fun, and he looked back on the memories with a sad fondness now.

After his fall, it was a while before he'd felt the sensation again, but eventually Lilith discovered her husband's sensitivity and made a regular habit of exploiting it (not that he minded, of course). He'd come to look forward to her little moods, and it had added another layer of misery to his existence when she disappeared, taking those playful, electrifying touches with her.

Only recently had he been exposed to tickling again, dragged into one of his daughter's little "bonding exercises" once afternoon and discovering, to his dismay, that seven years of touch-starvation had done nothing to lessen his ticklishness.

No, it seemed to have gotten worse.

"Poor little angel, too ticklish for his own good!" Vox crooned, resting a head on his shoulder as he raked his claws downwards, slowly dragging over each rib. "It's almost cute."

Lucifer's back arched, a shrill squeak tearing out of him before a fresh wave of giggles tumbled out. "Fuhuhuck yohohohohou! Lehehehehet me gohoho!" He tried to sound threatening, he really tried, but the wide grin and high-pitched snickers ruined the desired effect.

"Pssh, fuck no! Even if we didn't need your power, this opportunity would be too good to pass up!" Vox crowed, beginning to scratch between each rib, two at a time, listening to the rapid changes in volume and pitch in Lucifer's laughter depending on which set was being targeted. "Interesting...it seems some ribs are worse than others, wouldn't you say?"

The fallen seraphim shook his head harder, blonde hair a tussled mess, cheeks a deep shade of gold. "Nohohohohohohohoho!"

"Funny, I don't believe you."

A startled scream erupted from Lucifer as small, ticklish shocks suddenly raced through his nervous system, seemingly coming straight from the overlord's fingertips. "Fuhuhuhuhuhuhuck, wahahahahait wait wait!" He babbled, shrill giggles erupting his frantic plea.

"Oh yeah, the shocks always work wonders. You should have seen Alastor when I brought them out for him; he was practically beside himself, begging and bleating like a pathetic little fawn."

So the bellhop had been subjected to this, too? That gave Lucifer a little bit of solace, at least.

Vox dug into the lowermost ribs, just above the stomach, sending a fresh round of ticklish electricity and listening as his captive squealed with laughter. "I don't know what's more satisfying; seeing him beg or getting to watch YOU do the same thing. The King of Hell, brought low by a sinner, giggling like a baby."

A low growl interlaced Lucifer's snickers. "Fuhuhuhuck you! I don't beheheheheg" He retorted.

"You will, give it time."

Lucifer's eyes shot wide open as Vox's hands moved down, curling into the soft plane of his stomach and vibrating. He screech tore from his throat, immediately followed by a loud burst of cackling. Fuck, it was bad! It was so, so bad! "WAHAHAIT, NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!" The king wheezed, hips squirming from side to side in a futile attempt to evade the attack.

"Oh yeah, the tummy was a weak spot, wasn't it?" Vox crooned. "If I recall correctly, you just about burst when Angel Dust got you here." Fuck, he really MUST have seen everything! When Lucifer found out who the rat was, he was going to have them flayed, he swore!

To Lucifer's dismay, he could feel his magic thrashing within him, trying desperately to erupt and protect its host from the perceived threat. His horns lay just beneath the surface of his skin, his wings slamming against their invisible constraints in an effort to manifest. He heard a small clicking sound, just behind his ear, and he knew Vox's little device must be doing its job.

"There we go." Vox sang, clearly delighted. "Soon, we'll have enough magic to power our weapon and STILL have some leftover to experiment with. And you know what the best part is?" He leaned forward to purr into the seraphim's ear. "As long as I have you prisoner, we can repeat this process as many times as I like. Every day, I can come in and tickle you to tears, pull some of that precious angelic grace from your veins, and it never has to end. You're effectively immortal; this can go on forever."

That sent Lucifer's head spinning, a frantic squeal splitting the air as one of Lucifer's claws found his belly button. "NOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!" His legs kicked out, pedaling in the air in a futile attempt to escape.

"Yes..." Vox kept one hand at Lucifer's stomach, moving the other around to slip between the gap between Lucifer's back and the chair. His fingers found the angel's lower back, curling slightly before sending small, ticklish shocks directly up his captive's spine.

A loud ringing filled Vox's ears, followed by a seemingly incomprehensible string of syllables. Vox frowned, wincing as he turned down the sensitivity of his hearing. Lucifer had his head tossed back, screams of laughter echoing out as more of the garbled sounds tumbled from his lips.

After a moment, it registered the angel was speaking a language of some sort, but it wasn't anything Vox recognized. Lazily, he pulled up his language databases, combing through thousands of possibilities in seconds as he quickly weeded through most modern languages.

When he finally found a hit, bark of laughter erupted from the overlord. "Hoholy shit, you're speaking Enochian right now? It tickle that bad, your highness?" He crowed.

Another pulse of ticklish electricity shot up Lucifer's spine as Vox clawed at the seraphim's lower belly, just above the v-line. Now that he had the proper translator pulled up, Vox could clearly make out a string of curses between fits of hysterics.

This was so much worse than anything Lucifer had delt with before. Worse than being ganged up on by Charlie and her friends, worse than being subject Lilith's occasional foray into ticklish sadism (he supposed that made him a masochist, because he'd loved every second of it), worse than being surrounded by wiggling fingers and soft feathers as his siblings made him beg the Speaker to save him.

And the overlord was threatening to do this AGAIN? INDEFINATELY? He wasn't sure he would survive!

"It's a shame we can't get to those pretty wings of yours at the moment; I seem to recall those making you break a few lightbulbs when that little housekeeper got ahold of them. Imagine the power I could harvest with that little spot, hm?"

Lucifer found himself silently thanking Father for the blessed rope keeping them tucked away.

Vox ceased his attack, pulling back to allow his captive a moment to breath. Immediately, Lucifer slumped back against the chair, shaking with residual giggles. He swore, he could still feel the little jolts of electricity firing off in his nervous system...

Vox moved over to a small table, positioned just within Lucifer's peripheral vision. The fallen angel watched him closely, cautiously, a sense of dread pooling in his stomach.

The TV demon picked up something, though Lucifer couldn't quite make out what it was, humming a little tune as if he hadn't a care in the world. "You know what else my little spy brought me?"

He turned, and Lucifer felt his heart leap into his throat as a nervous grin immediately spread across his face. A large, white feather, the tip tinged with red. The seraphim recognized it well; it was one of his, after all.

He also knew just how fucking badly angelic feathers tickled.

"Ohohoho, Father preserve me..."

Vox smirked. "Nah, I don't think He's coming to help you anytime soon, so better start praying to your NEW god instead."

If he wasn't so nervous, Lucifer would have laughed. The sinner's ego was nearly as big as his own, and under other circumstances, he would have almost respected it. Now, though? Lucifer felt a chin go up his spine.

The sinner slowly stalked forward, twirling the feather as if to taunt him. "You know, Al's hooves are feather ticklish. Makes me wonder how YOURS would fair."

Yeah, Lucifer was royally screwed. As he felt another surge of magic flare up at the threat, he attempted to steel his features. He wouldn't give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing him crumble.

"Do your worst."

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.”

Human durin, is so clumsy. His legs are so much longer and hes so much more complicated to move around now. Honestly hes better at flying than walking at the beginning.

I do firmly stand by that the maternal instinct wanderer never knew he had gets activated and goes from being at 20% to 200% the second he meets his human version. The flashbacks he would get from the child in his past

"I will protect him with my life, the world will burn before anything bad ever happens to him" he will be the mother he never had (jkjk~)

Another very hilarious thing being human is... he can no longer be discreet with his facial expression. You see having a dragon face is a bit more limited. No proper lips, eyebrows etc. But as a human.. he can't hide anything. In fact. Wanderer discovered that durin isn't particularly fond of bitter food. And he never fully knew how bad it was until he turned around and see durin, eyes squinting and nose scrunched. Quietly munching on the dinner he made... his fourth betrayal~

But of course, having a human body does come with some benefits, he can actually take part in tickle fights now! And you have no idea how happy this makes the little dragon. No wonder having those claws nor wings. No, hands! With ten fingers! Boy oh boy hes gonna show off to wanderer and the traveler how good hes gonna be at part taking in their fun

But of course, two sides of this coin again. Because human body, means more spots to exploit. And with his poor coordination he doesnt stand a chance really unless he gets the upper hand from the beginning

Spots would be everywhere. But he is especially sensitive to his wings being targeted, be gentle tho. They aren't fragile, but tickle too hard and it'll hurt

Thanks to albedo and wanderer both being like "mama" in this scenario. His legs are terrible poor boy, from hips to his feet. The whole shebang. And again, like parents like child. Shorts... sigh they really just ask for it

But also, his face. Nose and cheeks. Little pecks and scratches under the chin. Giggles like the cutest dragon.

In summary. Durin is precious and I can't wait for him to be out in game