#a deer writes

[cervidaecorpse]

Bringers of Joy

Crystalline air danced in the pallid light. Pushing into itself. Getting weaker the longer it prevailed. Fading from sight. Uniting as one with its surroundings. Your fingers had long since grown accustom to the numbness. No glove or coat could shield you from the everlasting cold. Yet still. You remained. Frozen solid. Almost comparable to those blocks of ice. Almost.

Captivating to perceive. Reflecting the faint shine pushing through the icy fog. Faces trapped inside of them. Bodies from all around the universe. People you once spoke to. Conversed with. Even called your friends. Now, they would just ignore you. Pretend as if you never existed. Not because they wanted to. They had that choice taken away from them a long time ago.

Despite its crowded state, the room was empty. Although it was so spacious, it almost seemed claustrophobic. Because of his kind nature, people suffered. But was it truly suffering, if they were unaware of their existence? Preserved forever. In a deep slumber. Did they dream? Could they be happy? Feel any kind of emotion? It was not like you would ever find out.

“There you are!” The chipper voice alerted you to the approaching presence. Heavy cape flowing behind him. Boots obeying his slow stride toward you, coming to a halt. “It’s cold to leave me behind like this.” His tone and facial features prevented his words from having any reprimanding effect. Ever smiling. No matter, if he was eating or working. Smiling, when you looked at him.

“What are you doing out here so late? Are you feeling down?” He enquired. Expression faltering. You had rarely seen him frown when he knew you were around. But his down casted grin would never last. Even during these rare occasions. “Do you want to see my manuscripts again?” He was almost eager, already turning to retrace his steps back to his favourite spot on his ship. “You smile so warmly when we talk about it. I don’t like seeing others sad. It’s cold.”

Sunken in his thoughts, his clouded eyes met yours. Though his smile was incapable of clearing the icy fog surrounding you, his happy grin lifted the thoughts visibly circling his mind. “But I know we’ll make them happy together, right?” He beamed at you. His hand was raised to pat the fluff on your hood. Not for the first time. “We are a great team. I’m sure one day we’ll have brought joy to the entire universe. Maybe even beyond.”

Agree with him?

Yes

No

[minkdelovely]

I CAME HOME TO THE PRETTIEST SURPRISE TODAY!! 😭A big thank you to my darling @hazelfoureyes for making me this gif so I can show y’all our favorite old men in all their glory! 🥹💖

I can’t even lie, when I saw NOTHERPUPPET on the label of my package I fully gasped and tore into it IMMEDIATELY and did my very best not to cry (a task I barely succeeded in, but still).

@notherpuppet the boys came out soooo beautifully. Not that you ever miss — it felt blasphemous to type that — but you really fucking killed it with this. They are my pride and joy and I don’t know how I’m supposed to get anything done now or ever again because I can’t stop staring at them… but honestly what’s new?? 🥺💖

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere deer Hybrid with a hunter darling.

Tw.Nsfw themes! Dead dove do not eat!

Kidnapping, death, Yandere, MDNI

He's so regal and princely, with auburn colored curls framing his face like ribbon would a doll. Ciervus is a proud one, and he doesn't shy away from it. He stands taller than his peers, and his winding horns only add to his already imposing stature. He's a catch by all means: strong and intimidating to the point where no predator would mess with him and his future doe.

No one except you at least.

Ciervus is absolutely fascinated. He knows you're not something he should trust, but you've got so many things about you that he just can't tear his eyes from. Your hands are rough from handling your rifle all day, everyday, and you've got this permanent frown on your grimed streaked face. How odd. He thinks you'd be a cute doe, if you weren't fully human that is. He can't blame you for that, but it is a bit frustrating. He has his pick of potential mates, and if you just had little fuzzy ears or shiny black hooves, then he's sure he could've had you squealing and under him a long time ago.

He stamps his feet in frustration as he watches you. There's something thrilling about watching you settled in the underbrush, pointing your weapon at those he would consider his people. Every few days or so, someone he grew up with, frolicking in the spring once long ago, would disappear with only a loud bang and a streak of blood to signal their fate.

He knows it's bad to even seek you out. He could die. You would have no reservations about killing him after all. But Ciervus can't help the way his loins grow warm when he catches your scent through the trees. Even when you've dragged off the body of another poor deer, he's crouched, pressing his nose into the earth where you had sat in wait only hours before. There's something primal in the way he huffs your lingering smell off of the scattered leaves and smushed grass.

He wishes that you would know he was here, so that he could woo you properly.

Ciervus approaches you one day, and in his hands are his shed horns.

You're apprehensive, to be certain, but you let him come close. He feels shivers run up his spine. He can feel your body heat as he leans in close and presses his gift into your hands. He doesn't know why for sure you hunt those like him, but he thinks the antlers might have to do with it. He doesn't care all that much. You can't shoot him from this angle, pressed up against your back with his teeth grazing over your skin. He can feel you freeze up, and he grins at the though that this might be the first time you've ever felt like prey out here in these woods.

He lets his hands wander, dipping down the curve of your waist. You smell like death, iron, and sulfur, like you're a devil haunting this place. He relishes your pounding heart, and his lips press into the thrumming pulse point. It's then he reaches back and presses his fallen antlers to you. He figures you should have them. They take a year to grow and fall off, and he's spent that time yearning for you. It's only fair that the human tangled in greenery is the one who gets it.

"You deserve these," He whispers and finally pulls back. You're too shocked to do anything but sit there with eyes almost as wide as his and watch as he disappears.

After that day Ciervus becomes more brazen. He starts to stalk after you. He knows that to you, he's just some weird fawn with a death wish. Maybe he is, but that doesn't mean he'll let you kill him so easily. He gives you so many reasons not to.

He knows that other deer trust him. He knows that to the other woodland critter, he's just an innocent face that is not to be messed with. In that sense, he knows he can be of use to you. For as much as he follows you, you now also follow him. It sends a thrill down his spine, knowing that the barrel of your rifle is trailed after him. If he was going to lose his life to anyone, he'd want it to be you and not some drooling, snarling creature that would tear his beautiful face into a bloody mess. But he wants more time with you, so he leads you to other hybrids.

A fox, a goose, a wolf, other deer, it doesn't matter. You learn quickly, and you know that where he goes, there's an easy catch.

You vanish into the dark tree line, a body dragged behind you, and each night he lets you leave. You always return for some reason or another, and he doesn't fear the lack of you. At least he doesn't until you're gone for over two weeks.

Ciervus is beside himself. It's the first time that he's been without you for this long, and he begins to wonder if you'll ever come back. He's especially volatile during then. He fights any other young buck that come near, his nostrils flaring and his little tail wagging in utter annoyance. He expands his territory in an attempt to see if you went anywhere else, if you finally decided you were done with him.

When you appear once more, face blank and unchanged, he decided he can no longer take it. You must think nothing of him. Truly what a little fool you are. You must learn. You have to understand how he feels, and that he will have you even if it kills him.

He doesn't lead you to another hybrid this time, and he feels his cock twitch when he sees the frustration on your face. Oh...you were looking for him. It's a gratifying notion, and he bites his plump lip in excitement. He lets you go about your normal routine, but this time when you start to take your hunt for the day and leave the woods, he follows.

He's never left the sanctity of the woods. Not once in his entire life. There's this twisted sort of pride that fills him knowing that he's doing this for you. And as he peers inside your little cabin nestled along the roadside, he knows that the only reason why he would be doing any of this is because you're going to be his mate.

Your home is filled with the smell of iron and chemicals that burn his nose, but he watches from your window as you wrap a stiffening body (A rabbit hybrid this time) in a tarp and wait for a rumbling truck to come and take it away. He can see you be vulnerable in a way you'd never been before. Your bulky hunting gear is off, and he can finally see just how little you are compared to him in all his hulking glory. His ears twitch. You really are just a little doe.

He waits for you to relax, sitting on your bed and yawning as you prepare to rest for the day. He strikes then, breaking your window and yanking you out with little regard for how the glass cuts into you on the way out. His lithe and bulging arms wrap tightly around your midriff and knock the air out of you. He smiled at the way you try to fight despite struggling to breathe. He croons and presses a kiss to your cheek. He suspected as much when he gave you his antlers, but you really aren't all that strong, are you? At least not enough to fight him off.

He shushes you and shoves two thick fingers into your mouth when you try to scream, and a wide, unnatural smile crosses his lovely face.

"Shhh, shh its okay- ow! Hnh, haha, I guess I deserved that. No more biting, okay little doe?" He murmurs as he pets your hair and drags you further into the forest. It's so dark, and he knows that your human eyes won't be able to see where he's taking you. He takes you to a little cave decorated all pretty with soft furs, flowers, and moss. He sets you down, thrashing and screeching, into a little nest he's made.

He knows you think you're strong, but he's going to make sure you know your place. You were never really meant to be a hunter, you were always meant to be the strong mate he deserved.

His large hand reaches down and finds your ankle, catching it from where you tried to kick his sides. His wide, dark eyes peer down at you, and he smiles. Oh he how he loves you, but you're far too stubborn. Even now you're clawing at his arms, and his face crinkles apologetically.

"Little doe, this is for your own good," He says with a firm tone. You part your lips to argue, but a sickening crunch reverberates throughout the cold, stone walls of the cave. You let out a bloodcurdling scream as your leg twitches in pain. He releases your now broken ankle, and he wipes away your tears as he puts extra padding around your wounded foot.

"There there, don't cry. Shhh, shhh you're okay. I'll take care of you," He soothes and presses you down. You're a little heap of sobs, and his heart squeezes painfully. "Don't worry, little doe. I'll be a good mate. I'll wait until you're allllllll better before I start trying to get you used to me down here," He says softly as he presses his hand to your clothed crotch. He feels you flinch away, and Cervius can only chuckle.

"I know, I know, we won't do that until you feel better," He assures you and presses his palm over your mouth to muffle the insults and screams that were trying to escape that pretty mouth of yours. He waits until you pass you before he finally relaxes and snuggles up against you.

He's finally caught you. His little doe. His prey.

Continuation here

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny finds out hes a clone/ adopted, and instead of processing that like a normal person he decides, "Well its not like they can find me so imma mess with my bio parent(s) while venting my frustrations. Two birds with one stone."

Hence (hero or villian of your choice) begins receiving letters via untraceable magic of him telling them he's thier clone/son and just telling them about his day/past adventures.

Unfortunately most of his adventures are horrifying and the person is desperately scrambling to find thier dumb (possibly undead) child and rescue them.

It probably doesn't help that Danny only signs his name as Phantom and is careful not to give clues to his location.

[uncertain-tay]

The hunter brought his rifle to rest on the edge of the deer blind's window. Two young does stood frozen in the floodlight's beam, framed by tangled oak and kudzu... Wait, was it two, or three? There were three pairs of eyes. But what was... Was he seeing things?

[canisalbus]

hello! i've written a short little machete fic, and i wanted to share it with you as thanks for all the incredible art and generous question-answering you've been doing these last few months. i hope that if you give it a look, you enjoy it. <3 keep up all your amazing work! archiveofourown [.] org / works / 50945128

✦ A Voi ✦

[notherpuppet]

I KNOW YOU USUALLY DRAWING RADIOAPPLE BUT I JS WANNA SAY I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW ALASTOR AND HUSKS RELATIONSHIP THE TOXIC OLD MAN YAOI IS AMAZING!!!!!11

I’M MULTISHIPPER AF

I know the majority of my fanart is radioapple (I just think of too many antics for them haha) but I like to travel on many ships 🚢

I am limited by my drawing hand and the hours in a day 😭

[0bticeo]

alastor | your cracks are showing.

picture this, if you will.

you, having had enough of his antics, finally snapping, telling him you see through him. his mask, that too-wide smile, is imperfect.

"your cracks are showing, alastor."

you spit his name like a curse and he feels his gut twist with something foreign. there you are, you, defiant, arms crossed over your chest, denying him his precious persona.

who the hell do you think you are?

before you know it, his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to him, until you meet the hard planes of his chest. he's all lean muscles you find out, writhing against him, trying to break free.

he tilts your head back with one gloved hand. the leather is thin enough for you to feel the warmth of him. if you shiver, lips parting, you'll deny it.

"careful, my dear."

with that, he kisses you, sickeningly sweet. too sweet. too much. your eyes widen at the feeling of his lips against yours, of his teeth nipping against your flesh. you taste blood. fucker bit you -

he growls, the sound rich and deep, sinking into your marrow like he does in your mouth, tasting you. you find yourself clinging to him, fingers tangling in his curls, lightly tugging at his scalp.

he lets you go, tongue darting to lick the remnants of your lifeblood on his lips. he chuckles at the sight of you - kiss-swollen, panting, pupils blown wide in furious desire.

his thumb presses against your lower lip, right where he bit you. you hiss, sweet pain settling low in your gut.

"you'll cut yourself on my edges if you get too close."

somehow, you don't mind.

[redbean-nom]

Cadets

(aka trash children, chaos children, and children who understand 98 is getting graded on this)

Inspired by @thefoundationproject! Closeups under the cut:

jesse got this pic from jangotat:

[drowsy-opposums]

Imagine if Alastor had a deer tail..

Imagine you’re his s/o and despite his usual demeanor staying the same with his sharp smile and all whenever he’s talking with you his short fluffed up deer tail is always wagging side to side happily.

Or cuddling with him in his or your bed and its lazily swishing around. Imagine catching him by surprise and his tail stands straight up before starting to flick around after realizing its you.. its the small things in life I swear.

[naffeclipse]

I have read all your non-human reader fics and unreasonable amount over. I am begging you with the small peice of soul I have left. If you drop a non-human oneshot or even js an IDEA for a fic or a oneshot I will devour that like I haven't been fed in years. (I love non-human readers so much its addicting.)

Hm, okay! I have an idea or two, and centaurs have been on the brain, so you're getting that.

You are a deer centaur. You're graceful and quick as you prance through meadows and wave through trees effortlessly. Humans rarely travel this far, but you've noticed two beings of metal that sometimes move through here, guiding humans to the other side of your vast wild lands. You hardly ever let them see you for a moment that's not simply your tail-end as you bound away, but they sometimes stop and stare as you go.

You grow used to seeing them, the brothers. The one has a visage like a sun with beams surrounding his head and the other wears a cap over his moon-crescent face. Their jackets are leather, the ones hunters like to wear. One wears old yellow and the other wears dark gray. The colors make them stand out, unlike the hunters.

They're quiet, unlike the noisy humans that stomp and travel through with their hand carts and whining cattle. When they return without people to guide them, they sometimes sit under the shade of a tree and rest for a moment. You nearly stepped on the sunny one when you were plucking flowers in the meadow and jerked upright to see his wide eyes staring up at you, his mouth agape in awe and shock from where he had been resting on the grass. He tried to say something but you ran away before he could.

The other caught you off guard when you were slipping to the creek. You found him downstream a few yards away, washing his hands and scrubbing dirt from the jolts of his wrists. You were too thirsty to turn away from a cool drink. His head lifted and he froze while you knelt down on your four legs and cupped your hands together to fill them with the creek water. He said not a word before you finished gulping and dripping water on your bare chest. He tried to when you got back on your hooves. You didn't catch whatever he said.

The season changes, and you wonder why you haven't seen the brothers for some time. All the grass has dripped into gold and the heat of the day has eased while the nights become blissfully cool. Do those kind of metal creatures get sick? Did they decide they were tired of guiding humans? You stray closer and closer to the wagon-rutted path they take between the trees, but you neither hear nor see signs of them. That's too bad. You continue jumping over ferns and galloping through open fields, ignoring that slight pang in your chest. You spend your days eating wild apples and carefully removing ripe berries from thorny veins.

Until you notice, during one munch under an apple tree, the glint of something silver like teeth in the shade of trees on the far end of the meadow. Your floppy ears swivel. You stop chewing.

Then a report of a gun explodes your senses. Two shots in the same thunderous cry. Pain sears through the meat of your back right flank and the soft point between your shoulder and your chest. You nearly buckle before scrambling upright and bolting. You hear curses and shouts. Hunters. Their jackets are brown and camouflage.

Blood trails behind you, marking every half-wilted leave and mud-dark trail. You stumble. Your mind is caught stiffly in the combined panic and shock of pain, and you collapse onto the path that bears wheel marks from wagons. You have to get up. You writhe, kicking up stones and dust, but you don't find a way to return to your hooves.

Then you hear voices. Your vision blurs and your panic spills out into a bleat from your lips before someone softly shushes you. Your skull is taken in gentle, metal hands. A cool touch falls to your lower half's ribs, and you feel sticky and hot with blood. A voice asks what happened. Something gives way within you. Refuge. Exhaustion sinks into your eyes, and you falter into the darkness.

When you wake, it's warm. You blearily realize you can smell something strange and sharp, like the medicinal herbs you collect to prevent invention, but it's smothered under something. Your head is cradled by a soft pillow. Slowly, you realize walls surround you, and it looks terribly similar to the log cabin you once followed the brothers to one season just to see where they ended up when they weren't roaming.

You're sprawled upon a cool, open floor with a sheet underneath you. Your fingers explore gingerly and find bandages around your shoulder and your flank, your tan fur clean of blood. You jerk upright before you hear "I'd take it easy. You lost a lot of blood."

You twist your head to find one of the brothers sitting on the floor beside the pillow you were just lying on. His half-moon face regards you quietly. Through an entryway, the other brother emerges and you flinch at his arrival. His eyes widen before his mouth splits in relief.

"Oh! Good, you're awake. You gave us quite the fright."

Pain dully throbs underneath the bandages, but you realize you're not going anywhere anytime soon, even if your instinct screams at you to flee. The brothers gently sit beside you and tell you their names. Sun and Moon. You regard them in the way you would regard a snake in your path, but they don't hiss or rattle. Instead, they chuckle and ask you in a dozen different ways if you're alright, and what happened. By the storms in their faces, you figure they can guess.

Sun gives you a cup of water, and Moon asks if he can check your bandages. You shift anxiously, almost spilling your drink while he gently peals back the sticky, ruddy-stained patches to see the sizeable hole blown into your lower half. You would have bled to death. You would have been someone's trophy.

"You're safe with us." Sun gently takes the cup from your trembling hand before you spill anymore. "You can rest as long as you like."

"I want to leave. Now," you say, and even when you try to kick up and get back upright, you only manage to interrupt Moon while he's stuffing cleaning herbs against your bullet wound. You gasp and then yelp from the searing pain of jostling your tender injuries.

"Don't move," Moon growls once. "You're going to start bleeding again if you keep that up."

It's enough to make your ears flatten and you freeze.

"He's right." Sun nods, understanding concern coating his expression. "You can't leave like this. I promise it'll only be so long as you need to recover."

This will take weeks to heal if not months. You hardly belong in a close-quarters house, much less in the care of two machines, but they hum and gently tend to you until you stop fidgeting and accept pills from a little pale bottle. The pain slips away, but so do you as Sun's fingers gently brush your floppy ears and chat quietly about illegal hunters in this area. Moon shifts his attention to your shoulder. You wince when he touches it, and he apologizes. There's a blood stain on the pillow you're resting on. You let him inspect the wound before he softly touches your arm and tells you to get some rest. It will help you heal.

And that's how you spend most of the season in the care of Sun and Moon.

[cervidaecorpse]

Abyssal Zone

Night had washed over this side of planet earth. Dimly glowing lines marked your path through the building towering over the town. Colourless on the outside. Members rushing like blood cells through the system, creating swarms like fish. Avoiding you as if you were a predator ready to tear into them like fresh meat. Their numbers dwindling the higher you moved up the floors. One after the other. Voices quieting down. Faint steps in the distance vanished.

The higher you came, the further the pressure increased. Artificial rays of light began failing around you, avoiding your sight. The former colours drained from the walls and floor. Movement of the elevator stagnated. Doors opened, leaving you to exit. With a soft call they closed behind you, before another beckoned you through a second pair. Shutting you in.

Usually lit, the absents of any source of brightness inside the office left the moon in control of your vision. Falling through the vizor shaped window, reflecting off the polished desk. The person expecting you turned to greet you in his chair. Calm and neutral expression receiving cracks in its façade, once he raised his eyes from your hands to meet your own.

“I see your persistence was rewarded with success. Not that I expected anything less.” He commented. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Digits cladded in black cloth reached out your way. Obliging to his wordless request, you gave him the three cards he had ordered to be retrieved. His gaze raked over the rectangular shapes. Spreading them out on his desk, he propped his arm up.

“You did well.” He congratulated you, icy blues gleaming in the moonlight. “This family could have been difficult to deal with in the future, but thanks to you they will have no chance of becoming a thorn in our sides.” Tilting his head, he took note of the other cards trapped in the vice grip of yours. The side of his jaw came to rest on the back of his pointer finger.

“After cleansing the town, you decided to keep them.” Something akin to amusement flared up in his eyes. “You don’t have a Maximum as of yet, do you?” For just a moment, thoughts clouded his mind. “But I don’t think either of them will be a good fit for you. Leave them with me. I will find them fitting owners.”

Taking them from you, he instead pushed the three you had brought him toward you. Resuming his former position, weighing your response, his smile returned. “You have rightfully earned yourself the biggest threats of the MIK and my goal. I’m certain you will take good care of them.”

Accept the cards?

Yes

No

[thisonesock]

I always forget about this tip I once found.

[casuallyanidiot]

Author author!! More of deer yandere please😞🙏🙏

Yandere deer hybrid who's so eager to start breeding you. It doesn't matter if you can even get pregnant or not because by god he's going to try his hardest.

Continuation to this

Tw. Noncon, dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, yandere, captivity, breeding kink, overstimulation, bone breaking (mentioned), gn pronouns used for reader, MDNI

Ciervus waits until your leg heals to start the whole ordeal. Never mind the fact that he was the one who broke it, he lavishes you with praise and sympathy. He strokes your hair and whispers about how good you're being by staying nice and pliant in the cave he's prepared for you. You're his good little doe, all snuggled and sweet in his nest.

It almost gives him a sort of rush knowing that you were this big bad thing prowling around the woods with death at their heels. Who would guess that you were so fragile and so fuckable? He chuckles to himself as he pushes your face down into a soft bundle of fur and grabs your ankle. He rolls it gently, and he listens with a contemplative hum as you squeak in slight protest and pain.

"Well, it doesn't seem like it hurts much as before," He comments and lets your foot go limp. Despite the progress, he knows that you're never going to be able to walk the same ever again. He hopes you'll heal enough eventually, but it won't get to the point where you can outrun him. That's all he really cares about anyways.

His antlers have grown a fair amount since he last shed them and presented them to you like a prize. He feels them idly while smoothing his other hand down your nude back. He likes the feeling of your shuddering spine beneath his fingers, and he marvels at how quickly the time has passed. Already a couple months spent cuddling with his little doe... it's honestly impressive how he hasn't lost his composure yet.

But there's no more putting it off, little doe.

He hums and wordlessly grabs your thighs before spreading them apart. Your breath hitches, and his grin widens as he sees your twitching little ass and your leaking privates. His chest rises and fall more rapidly, and he'd forgive you if you mistook him for a snarling, drooling predator in that moment.

"Oh look at you..." He breathes out, kneading the sensitive flesh. You try and drag yourself away, but he gently tsks at the pathetic effort. "Now now, no need to be all shy," He teases lightly, and he positions himself right between your shaking legs. He's not totally oblivious despite the fact that he's never been with anyone before. The right of mating is deeply ingrained in his brain: a gift from generations before to ensure that whatever doe he was trying to pump full of babies would be pliant and sweet with pleasure.

His hands find his cock (impossibly long for a human, even impressive by hybrid standards), and his spits in his palm before he begins to pump and tug on the sensitive skin. He smacks your ass, enjoying the way the flesh jiggles, and he hisses in pleasure. You're everything he's ever wanted. Not these insipid little things that run about the woods and waste his time. You're the real thing. He snakes his hand around and coats it in your tears, shuddering at how you sob despite your pride.

Heat coils in his belly with each movement of his wrist, and he throws his head back with a hearty groan. His release is unceremonious, but he knows the main event is yet to begin. Ropes of his cum coat your lower back and entrance, and he relished the sight, the smell of him on you.

" There, hah, now we can get you all nice and ready," He huffs out and doubled over you so his forehead is pressed between your shoulder blades. His antlers graze against your skin, and if you move too much you'd surely be pricked by them. His shuddering, quiet laughs ghost over your skin. His fingers scoop his cum off your warm skin and dips them down to your twitching, dry entrance. He presses kisses to your neck, and he shushes you when he feels you tense.

"No no no, you're fine, you're fine shhhh. Just give me a moment to make you feel good," He murmurs and leans forward to nibble on your earlobe. Fuck, you're clamping down on his fingers. He hears you hiss out a bit in discomfort, and he coos. He gets knuckle deep, his cum acting like a lubricant to help the process as he stretches you out. You whimper and whine, but eventually he curls his digits in just the right spot to get you all loose and gaping.

He teases you with a little bite to your shoulder, and he rears back enough to line himself up and sink his length in inch by agonizing inch.

You were so tight, the fear making you clamp around him in all the right, delicious ways. All these months of watching, waiting salivating over you, and now he's where he's wanted to be. You twitched, rolling your hips underneath him. He wasn't sure about if it was because you were enjoying this or if it was just another pathetic, stupid attempt to leave him. He grips you by the back of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip as he thrusts roughly into you.

The cave was filled with his grunting, your squeals and moans, and the sounds of your bodies slapping together. He pressed kisses all over you, grabbing your face to turn you into an awkward, arched position where he could bully his cock further into your spongy walls and give you sloppy, smiling kisses.

Soon, he groans and dumps a hot load in you, and he feels you relax. You pant and tremble from your own forced orgasm, and he grins through the darkness. He pets your head, and he feels his cock soften in you. There's a sense of relief from the both of you, you for it being over and Ciervus for it happening at all.

He does feel a bit bad, though, as he member twitches back to life. Your eyes widen, and he pins you down before you can struggle. He's far from done with you, little doe.

[jinxed-sinner]

Since I’ve already made it abundantly clear that Lucifer’s touch-starved as fuck in To Preen An Angel’s Wings I need to add a scene at some point after his and Alastor’s deal is done and Alastor’s healed where Lucifer’s just feeling really down so he shapeshifts into a cat in an attempt to cuddle Alastor again (still completely oblivious to his own romantic feelings, but realizing at this point that Alastor his acknowledged some level of platonic care for him). Since Lucifer’s shapeshifting doesn’t change his appearance drastically there’s an exchange that goes something like this:

Lucifer, in his cat form: *curls up on Alastor’s lap, purring*

Alastor, knowing it’s Lucifer by his markings: Lucifer, I know it’s you. Get off of me.

Lucifer: *starts kneading Alastor’s thigh*

*Alastor’s ears lower, but he just accepts his fate despite his instinct being to throw Lucifer across the hotel lobby*

I think this could just be an entire chapter immediately following their deal being done where Lucifer’s just trying to get Alastor to acknowledge that yes, he cares, yes, they genuinely bonded while over the duration of the deal, and yes, Alastor cares enough to help Lucifer deal with severe touch-starvation, even if Lucifer has to be shapeshifted into an animal for Alastor to be genuinely comfortable with it. I also think it’d be funny if they experiment with what species makes Alastor most comfortable.

Lucifer, shifted into a deer: What about a deer?

Alastor: You realize I eat raw deer for breakfast?

Lucifer, shifting into a dog: What about a dog? Dogs are therapeutic, so it might be therapeutic for you too!

Alastor, visibly shaking: I think I’d rather die a second time.

Lucifer, shifting into a cat: Okay, a cat then? Cats increase humans’ lifespans, and their purring has healing abilities!

Alastor: Not that I care but I doubt Husk would be happy about it.

Lucifer, shifting into a goat and visibly annoyed at this point: What about a goat, the classic devil’s animal?

Alastor: Actually, I think I prefer the deer.

Lucifer: YOU IMPLICITLY THREATENED TO EAT ME IF I SHIFTED INTO A DEER

They do decide on a deer because it relaxes whatever deer instincts Alastor has and Lucifer is assured that Alastor doesn’t feel like eating him any more than he usually does if he’s a deer (prompting Lucifer to literally yell “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ‘ANY MORE THAN YOU USUALLY DO’???????”)

[duckie-deer-prompts]

Duckie Deer Prompt #12

Alastor: Oh, no, Rosie. The King and I do not have cutesy, saccharine nicknames for each other.

Rosie: Hmm, I see. By the way, what sort of ears do you have again?

Alastor: Deer?

Lucifer: Yes, honey?

Alastor: ...

Rosie: Do not ever lie to my face again.