#like look. if your whole joke is just ''ooooh he's so fucked up. he's so fucked up he's basically a goofy dog''. think about some things.

[croakings]

i apologize for mithrunposting incessantly but honestly if any of you expected better of me you shouldn't have

anyway i get it and some of the failguy jokes are funny. i can tell that nothing i've run into is even malicious. but also it would be really cool and awesome if there were simply less posts calling a disabled person a failure or baby or a dog or whatever for needing accommodation or extra help, especially when like. hey did you know the source material very on purpose did not do anything remotely like that. critical thinking question: could there be some reasons these phrases are not great, potentially

[6okuto]

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS

gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna

KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.

HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.

SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”

SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[dobbysnotsureaboutthis]

Alastor x Reader - A very long mating season (doctor's appointment gone wrong)

Masterlist

Link to pt.2

WC: 9,698

Description:

Alastor’s been acting weird for a while now, and Angel Dust calls in a friend of his, you - the only doctor in the whole pride ring - to have you take a look at him. Despite Alastor’s insistence that it’s only a bad headache, you swear on your doctor’s oath that something more is going on… (fem reader)

Warnings:

SEX, NOT scientifically accurate, me NOT a doctor, reader and Alastor boing their groins a few times so yk do what you will with that info, rut, heat, sex, sex, sex, sex, sex, blood (not that much), porn with plot, not edited

“Say, what do ya think is goin’ on with Smiles these days?” Angel Dust reclines his elbows on Husk’s bar, sipping at his drink while waiting for Charlie’s response.

“Alastor? Oh no, do you think something’s wrong with him?”

Angel tries not to roll his eyes at the princess. The poor girl, going around managing hell with a heart of gold and… seemingly zero observation skills. “Yeah Alastor! He’s been acting all weird lately. Hidin’ away at his radio tower most of the day, in his room when he’s here, never comin’ down anymore to make breakfast, not responding to my pranks! Ugh, I’ve been bored as fuck here without his crazy reactions.” 

Husk chuckles at that, pausing his cleaning. “Are you sure you miss that last part? I remember a certain someone almost getting killed several times over a joke.” 

Angel groans at the smug grin of his companion. If the damned cat wasn’t so cute he definitely wouldn’t let him get away with all his complacent remarks. 

Nifty darts out from under the bar, joining in on their discussion. Nobody bats an eye, as they were all used to the little demonness’s mannerisms by now. “Ooooh is this about Alastor? I saw him walking around and pulling at his own head earlier. He looked like he was in pain!” She giggles impishly. “Wonder what that’s all about!”

Charlie looked close to tears in worry, and without Vaggie around to help, Angel sighs, awkwardly trying to solve the tension he brought up. “Hey don’t worry ‘bout it, if you’re all noticing and it’s not just me, I know a doctor we can call up.” 

“There are doctors in hell?”

Angel snorts. “Fuck, even the princess of hell herself doesn’t know it! Yea there are doctors, or at least there’s one doctor I know of for sure. I guess most of the caretakers on earth ended up in heaven.” He twiddles with the soft tufts of milky fur on his chest. “She used to patch me up after… ya know, my work with Val and all. Not sure if she’s got experience with patients like him, but I could call her up and give it a shot.” Charlie darts into a standing position, squeezing Angel in a tight hug. He pats her shoulder hesitantly, still not used to how loving the princess was. “Yes! That’s just it Angel.” Then her sparkly eyes widened even more, sparkling brightly at a vision only she could see. “Oh Angel! Helping a friend out of the kindness in your heart! You’re already getting so close to redemption, I can feel it!” She pulls away just as quickly as she leaned in, shooting two thumbs up in his direction. “I’m counting on you for this one!”

“Yea, yea.”

Angel fumbles with the smooth buttons on his phone screen, finding her number in recents - he’d just called her a few days ago when Val worked him for 2 days straight, filling his body with his sick drugs and leaving him untreated, lying cold on the studio floor. 

“Hey toots? Yea, this is Angel calling.” 

There’s unintelligible mumbling. 

“No, it’s not for me. It’s for a… friend.”

_____________________________________________________________

You’re in your office wiping down the scarce collection of medical equipment you’ve garnered in hell. Hell’s sky casts a pomegranate glow on your figure, inflecting off the pleats in your skirt and button-up shirt. You had forgone a traditional white coat, as there was no such clothing around here. 

When you first landed in hell, you quickly realized that the social hierarchy similarly mirrored that of earths. There were the wealthy and powerful sins, celebrities - flashy, big overlords - and finally, the common people, average sinners. 

In the beginning, your optimism led you to think you could maybe become someone important. Why not try? You had an eternity in hell after all. Yet it didn’t take you long to realize that you didn’t have what it takes to be known. You weren’t a serial killer or a twisted psychopath in life. You didn’t have it in you to climb the social ladder like a cold-hearted politician.

You were a good-natured doctor who saved lives, who thrived on knowing you were the reason your patients could live comfortably. Your only flaw? You could say that curiosity was what killed the cat, or in this case, deer. You giggled, playing with the little bush of a tail you had. It was what guided you to persist through the long years of medical school despite the imposing student debts, unsympathetic parents and all. It was also what drove you to murder. 

One, just one time.

You remember the day with crystal clarity. Your boyfriend, who had tied you up and bound you to his car, which he steered off the edge of a cliff. The hot slickness of crimson liquid coating his hairline where the windshield smashed him, the horrified pried open state of his jaw, his eyes wide and searching for nothing in particular as they stung with the salt of his blood. 

The fall had miraculously loosened your ropes enough for you to wiggle out of them, hauling your scraped wrists out of the scratchy material. He begged you to help. He, who had betrayed you and planned to smuggle you away from the life you built for yourself. There was still time to call the police. His heart was beating steady and strong. You thought his body would be of better use to your research than alive.

Someone who dedicated their whole soul to saving lives, ended up in hell for taking one.

But that cruelty was a one time occurrence, and you still opted to play the good doctor in hell. You snort at the irony as you wipe down the stethoscope in your hand, then promptly set it down on the counter as your phone interrupts your reminiscent thoughts with a sudden ring. 

“Hello?”

Ah, it was Angel, a regular patient. You were fond of the spider demon. He’s saying something about a friend needing help. “Of course, could you get your friend on the phone so that I can schedule an appointment?”

Nervous laughter rings on the other side of the conversation. “Uh, here’s the thing. He doesn’t know that I’m makin’ this appointment.” 

“Oh?” Now you’re surprised.

“Listen this is gonna be a lot to ask for, and I already ask for too much outta you-.”

“Angel, you could never ask too much from me.”

You hear a shaky sigh. Then a pause. “A-Alright then, would it be ok if ya come over to the hotel and check him out there? He’s in some weird sorta pain, but he’s not the type to tell us.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. When should I come over?” “It’s not emergent, as this has been goin’ on for a while and he’s still up and movin.’ How ‘bout tomorrow mornin’ 8:00 am? It’s gettin’ late and I’ve seen him like once today. I’m thinkin’ we should have the best luck tryna catch him after breakfast, when Charlie has him do a few tasks around the hotel.”

“Sounds good to me. Could I get a patient name?”

“Yea, Alastor.”

“Alriiiight.” You stretch out the word as you quickly jot down his name and time of the appointment. “And demon type?”

Angel snorts as though it was a funny question. You smile from the contagious sound of his entertainment, despite having no idea what was so hilarious. “...Demon type?”

“Sorry toots, I wasn’t laughin’ at ya. He’s a deer.”

“Oooh, a deer demon? Like me…” You jot that down too. “Take care, Angel. Let me know if you want me to give that ugly moth a sedative overdose!” 

Angel laughs, and you end the call on a gleeful note despite knowing that neither of you could really do anything to the overlords. Or… perhaps you could, perhaps they were made of the same perishable flesh as any other, perhaps you were letting their status outshine their mortality. Though that’s a thought for another time.

You perch yourself on top of your working chair, clicking through your VoxTek computer to file the appointment in your weekly schedule. 

Alastor. The syllables taste rich and familiar on your tongue. You swear that you’ve heard it somewhere before.

_____________________________________________________________

Alastor as in the radio demon Alastor? 

It took you a second to recognize him, as you’ve only seen him a handful of times, but once you do, you’re suddenly not so confident about today’s appointment. 

It takes everything in your power to sculpt your expression into a neutral one. You scan your eyes over your surroundings. Darkened green walls encapsulated a small bar that looked reminiscent of a casino slot machine. Angel Dust, your spider friend, and a sour-faced gray cat demon sat chatting at the bar, nervously glancing between one another and the tall man in red. Then there was the princess of hell, Charlie, and a white haired vertically challenged woman crowding the deer demon, waving their hands exaggeratedly as though they were trying to prove a point to him. 

Their heads swing in almost unison at your arrival, and you instantly realize that they must’ve been distracting him from your arrival. Right. He didn’t even know you were coming. You swallow your nerves and make your way to the bar, skin sizzling with the phantom touch of his crimson eyes on your figure. His twisted sharp grin blurred through your peripheral vision as you focused on maintaining eye contact. 

“Hey, I’m a doctor, and I’m here to-.”

“Eek! You’re here!” Before you could even offer your hand for a shake, Charlie all but sprints at you, interrupting you with a tight hug. You blink away the strands of her hair that caught in your eyes from the swirl of the motion. 

“Hello, Princess Charlie.” You wave politely. This was your first time meeting any sort of royalty in hell, although she wasn’t nearly as intimidating as the strawberry-haired demon situated behind her.

“I’m so so excited to have you here and oh! Are you by chance interested in joining our hotel? My hope is for sinners to be redeemed-.”

“Charlie.” The short white-haired girl lays her hand on Charlie’s arm. “Let’s not forget what she’s here to do, babe.” She must be her girlfriend.

White-hair shortie directs her attention to you. “Vaggie, nice to meet you.” She keeps her introduction short and sweet, gently pushing at Charlie once again, reminding her to inform you of the situation.

“Right, right. So, you’re here, the best and only doctor in the entire pride ring to help our friend who’s been struggling a bit.” You keep a cordial smile plastered on your cheeks as she talks. In the back of the room, you see Angel now working at distracting Alastor from leaving. Impatience begins to tug at your heartstrings, pleading the princess to keep it short. You didn’t want to fail so soon.  “...And we’re just really worried! He’s been having pains apparently, in his head. Headaches.”

You turn to look at said demon, who was still sitting atop the same bar stool, perched so stiffly that you could feel the secondhand pain of his muscles that must be aching. There’s a slight swishing of his tail, and he clutches what appeared to be his radio stick tightly with one clawed hand. Was he nervous? Your eyes sweep over the sweat beading under swept bangs, and the clenching of his teeth. Ah. It must be his “condition.” 

“Alright, Princess. I can tell you all really care for your friend. Just leave the rest to me.” You squeeze her shoulder warmly, guessing that she must be fond of physical affection. She grins delightedly at you.

“Great! This is so so so good. Thank the devil! I’ll leave you to that then! Best of luck! Not that you’ll need it or anything.” You keep waving at the princess until she disappears beyond the door, watching as she spun around several times to match your waves. 

You were equal parts burning with the need to get things started, and dreadful of approaching the menacing demon, who had resigned his attempts of fleeing. You walk carefully, tiptoeing as though you were advancing toward a frightened animal. Angel Dust - and the grumpy cat - look at one another, and finally dash away, after making what you assumed to be some sort of excuse to Alastor. 

He doesn’t look at you at all, instead choosing to stare straight ahead with that abnormally wide strained smile of his - if not for the slight twitching of his ears, you would think he’s not even aware of your presence. 

You clear your throat nervously, flexing your forearm to prevent it from trembling before holding it out for a handshake. If the rumors were correct, and you had no doubt they were, you certainly didn’t want to lose the radio demon’s respect; especially not in the first meeting. 

“Hello, you’re Alastor, the radio demon aren’t you? I-It’s nice to finally meet you!” Well, you were never that good at first impressions anyway.

For a moment you think you hear him sigh, a static-filled gravely sound. Nearly imperceptible. Then he’s turning to you, reluctantly reaching his hand to yours at a snail-like pace. You try not to feel too rejected. Or feel too mocked by the seemingly ever-present grin on his face, and the clear scrutiny in his eyes. 

“Likewise, my dear. It’s always a pleasant surprise to meet another deer demon in hell, given their supposed rarity. ”

You had an impression this was far from pleasant for him. Maybe he doesn’t want competition? You snort, brushing that thought away. As though a low-level sinner like you could be a threat. “Ah, right.” You playfully flick the fur of an ear, trying to lower the tension. His darkened eyes follow the motion of your hand. “I barely remember that I am a deer demon sometimes! Everything is the same as when I was human, except for the addition of some ears and a tail.”

His grin turns sharper, with the cutting flavor of something uncomfortable. “I assure you dear, you are very much not human. I can tell.” 

“...Right.” You close your eyes briefly, willing yourself into a more business mindset so as to ignore how awkward the whole situation felt. “So, could I get a description of your symptoms? I know Charlie told me, but I want to hear it straight from the source.”

You smile encouragingly at him, as you often did with difficult patients while alive. And you had a feeling Alastor was every bit of that - a difficult patient.

He straightens up, losing the slight hint of ease he’d started to gain. “Well, it is like I said. I seem to be experiencing pains in my… head.” He winces a little - likely due to said head pains, you note.

“And how long have you been experiencing these pains?” You lean against the edge of the stool next to him, not quite sitting on it but not standing either. 

Your ears twitch at the subtle creak in his stool. He’s shifting around again. “...Around three months.”

Your eyes widen, pushing yourself off the stool. “Three months! Why didn’t you say anything…?” You quickly shut yourself up before you could cross any boundaries, silently scolding yourself for the overt reaction.

“The pain wasn’t that bad.”

He’s lying. You narrow your eyes to warn him, you can tell.

He tries again. “...I assumed the pain would go away on its own.” 

“And not get worse?” 

He gives an affirmative nod. You ask him several questions after that, trying to get a quick history of his health complications during his time in hell. With each question he answers, you find yourself only getting farther from any sort of possible conclusion. 

As soon as you started working as a solo doctor in hell, you learned really quickly that demons rarely suffered from the same ailments as people did above on earth, and if they did their symptoms were different. Your mind rushes through illnesses other demons had visited you for - a snake demon who couldn’t get his skin to shed properly, a cyclops demon who grew an extra eye that blocked the vision of her original eye, a volcanic demon whose lava had leaked to his internal organs and started burning him from the inside…

What about deer demons? Little was known about them, to the point where you were even unsure of your own biology.

You bring a finger to your lips, chewing on your nail while thinking of your next steps. The curiosity within you begged to think of a conclusion, or even just a premise. Nothing. You finally pull your finger away from your lips, remembering where you are. Right. There’s no need to overthink things. You haven’t even done a physical examination yet. Speaking of which…

You gesture for him to stand up, regretting the motion immediately as his gaze turns displeased; likely at your attempt to order him. “Alastor, would you lead the way to a more private space?” His ears straightened, and he looked at you defensively. Why did your words never come out right? You blush and wave your hands back and forth in denial. “N-no, not - I meant for your physical examination.” 

Thankfully, he ignores your blunder. Nothing about his steady grin and lidded scarlet eyes revealed what he thought. “Right this way then.” 

You timidly follow after him.

Have you gotten so rusty during your time in hell that you couldn’t even talk to a patient without turning into a blubbering mess? You’ve only been here for a decade… or two… three decades. In that time, you’ve met with all sorts of patients, from lowly sinners to more powerful overlords. He’s tall, you observe. Very tall - almost 7 feet? Over? It shouldn’t intimidate you, he was far from the tallest demon you’ve encountered. 

But they didn’t tower over you. They didn’t have his same opposing presence, which unfairly dominated the entire room with its sheer power, and they certainly didn’t have… they didn’t have his… 

…scent.

Your knees go soft at the same moment he comes to a sudden halt, causing you to bump your body into his. Your forehead bumps into the hard bone of his scapula, startled hands reaching out to steady yourself by gripping onto his suit. He twists his head acutely to look at you, and you flinch, preparing yourself for his notorious anger, but you are only met with discomfort in his eyes. You hurriedly distance yourself from the demon. 

His jaw clenches and unclenches, and he’s looking at you as though he’s holding back from killing you right then and there. A strange, almost pleasant shiver runs through your body. You blink. What a strange response to potential danger.

Before you had time to apologize - for what, you don’t know you just feel like you’ve wronged him somehow - he masks his irritation with the same cheeriness in his smile. “And we’re here! Will my bedroom be a good enough space for your physical examination, dear?”

You swallow back the ever-growing weird feeling inside you. “Yeah, of course.” 

He hums an old-fashioned tune as he walks into his room, sharp clacks of his shoes dulling down on the red carpet that covered his bedroom floor. Your curious eyes catch two red armchairs, several deer skulls hanging ominously on the walls, a large maroon bed that was so neatly made it looked to be a mere display, and the soft glow of a swamp surrounded by forest trees in the distance. 

You unpack the equipment you carried with you - stethoscope, thermometer, gloves, examination light, cotton balls. You left your less earthly conventional items back in your office, as you had absolutely no idea whether they would be of use. Each new patient meant you had to study and adapt to their unique anatomical features and curses, on top of your prior anatomical knowledge. 

Alastor stays silent the entire time you rummage through your materials, except for the occasional thump of his tail on the bed sheets and the consistent hum of jazz and radio static, which was periodically interrupted by sharp pops. You smile internally at the flattening of his ears; he must be really annoyed by that hyperactive tail of his huh? Personally, you were quite fond of your own. But you could see why a man like Alastor would be bothered by this. 

You pull on your gloves, starting to settle into a comfortable pace. All is going well, you reassure yourself. All except for the weird musky smell from him that kept tugging unexpectedly at your insides. Better not breathe all that in. He could be contagious.

You pull out a thermometer. “Alright, I’m going to take your temperature ok…?"

He simply nods. So quiet today, especially for a man who never seemed to shut up on his infamous radio broadcast. 

Just when you think he couldn’t get any rigid, you see him stop dead at your hand cupping his chin. “Open your mouth for me…” His claws tear into the bed sheets beneath, and you pat his shoulder, trying to get him to relax. His tail furiously thumps against the sheets. Oh. He doesn’t want you to touch him. 

You remove your hand from his chin and manage to take his temperature, dipping the oral thermometer beneath his tongue. You could practically feel the heat emanating off his skin onto your hand. It would be surprising if he didn’t have a fever. “Since demons all have varying levels of body heat, I can only measure fevers by comparing them to your baseline temperature. I’d say you definitely have one based on your appearance alone…” You pull out your notepad. “...But I still need to record the results for future reference.” 

You might as well be talking to yourself. You didn’t mind it though, given that you were trying to ignore his overbearing presence. “Now, I’m going to examine your eyes and ears.” You take out your light and gently gesture for him to look upward. At least he was complying now. Eyes seem normal, just as evil and red as a demon’s eyes should be. You move to his ears, which you didn’t even dare to touch based on the sudden cautioning glare he was shooting at you. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t touch anything.” You smile non threateningly before shining the light at his ears, humming as you peeped inside. They quiver, the fur slightly brushing against the head of your examination light. 

“Hmm, nothing there either…” You rummage through your bag, pulling out your stethoscope. He narrows his already lidded eyes in distaste. “I’m going to have to make some contact with it… but I’ll be fast I promise. Just tell me if you want me to pull away.”

He grits his smiling teeth, finally speaking up for the first time during the whole appointment. “You will not be coming near me with that… thing.” You’re taken aback as he suddenly stands up, brushing off his coat. A single droplet of sweat runs down his clenched jawline. “I did not require such a ridiculous examination in the first place.” He’s trying desperately to keep up his usual buoyant facade. But his frustration, at something, kept breaking through the surface. “I’ll be perfectly swell in due time! Tell the princess that these pains are nothing and it will resolve itself.” 

You panic, reaching out to grasp at his lapels before you could even think about it. You’ve never had a patient leave untreated. “Wait! Alastor, I can’t just let you go like that. As a doctor, at least let me try to help!” The second you make contact with him, you watch in horror as his face twists into something truly terrifying. Crack! There’s a breaking sound, then his form twists, joints lengthening asymmetrically with frightening speed until he dwarfed you by at least an additional 3 feet. He leans down to stare you in the eye. You’re unable to look away from the morbidly glitching radio dials. “You can’t help me. Nothing you do will ever be of use to my situation. It would help me more, in fact, if you left this very instant.”

…What did he say? 

Nothing you do will ever be of use to my situation.

Nothing you do will ever be good enough.

Just like they told you when you started medical school all those decades ago. 

You don’t even notice that you’re crying until you’ve been standing there wordless for so long that his demonic form has slowly, inch by inch shrunken to his original self. You don’t even notice that your vision is blurry. All you felt was defeat. Humiliation, rather. Who were you to think that you could help an overlord in any way? You weren’t even qualified to be a doctor down here in hell. No one is. You just thought you’d try. That’s all.

The ball at the pit of your throat tightens until you can barely breathe from concentrating on stopping the traitorous tears salting your cheeks. Distantly, through the muffled ringing in your ears and erratic static engulfing the room, you hear a low exhale. 

Could you get any more pathetic? You hold your breath when you feel a single clawed finger wiping at the stabbing fluids running down your face, each one hot and heavy with shame. You blink to clear your teary vision, and you see him looking down on you with an unreadable expression.

Apologetic? No, why would a man like him say sorry? Besides, he had nothing to be sorry for. He was correct in his reaction, you really couldn’t do anything to help. You just had to go and cry about it afterwards. Fuck. You sniffle pathetically, 

He speaks softly, the dense static lessening in volume. “There’s no need to shed tears over something that is not your fault.”

It doesn’t help. You didn’t cry often, but once the tears started it was difficult to stop. He lets his hand drop to his side and moves back to his previous position on the edge of his bed. 

“This isn’t something you can help me with, my dear. It’s an unpleasant condition I’ve had to suffer every year since I landed in hell, and nothing but waiting it out would help. This year just happens to be… more difficult than the others.” 

“Y-You’ve… had to go through this every year?” You picture the pain he must go through, and the empathy within you instantly felt for his hardships. What type of horrible things did he do on earth to deserve this? You snort with your trembling voice at your ridiculous question. You’re in hell, dumbass. What do you think?

“Every year.”

“Well, m-maybe I can help and we just don’t know it yet. Let me try, at least?” Hope dares to grace your mind, and the tears, although still running down your face, slow to a trickle.

He hesitates. He’s going to say no, isn’t he? That’s alright, you’ll do everything in your power to research deer demon biology on your own time. “You may try.” 

You blink in surprise, and your lips slowly twitch upward into a forming smile, despite the liquid sorrow still lining your eyes. In contrast to his uneasy expression, his tail thumps lightly at your grin. You find it… cute how closely the movements of his tail matched his feelings.

You pull out your stethoscope once again, attaching the tips of the headset to your ears. You glance at him for permission one more time, and he tilts his head with a disconcertingly wide grin as though to feign nonchalance. His flattened ears and tight fists however, told another story. Nonetheless, he compliantly unbuttons the top of his shirt and looks to the side, lying on his back. You smile apologetically and gently press the stethoscope to the skin of his chest.

Heartbeat… was sound. Slightly quick, likely due to current discomfort. You move the stethoscope around his chest, and you hear what sounded suspiciously like a breathy gasp. Focusing on your work, you dismiss it as a background noise. Lungs seem normal. 

Your own heartbeat is starting to quicken, for a reason other than the sniffles that had dulled to an occasional disturbance during your examination. His scent. Your eyes nearly tear up again from the effort not to breathe him in from your proximity. You feel the gummy walls lining your mouth salivate, the sticky fluid pooling in the crevices of your teeth. Was this possibly a symptom? Perhaps he was contagious after all, and the illness was an airborne one. You think back to a time when you had to treat a cloud-like demon who was overly condensed with liquids; and the very next day, you found that you’ve contracted a similar ailment yourself, your entire face bloated with an excess of fluid.

Perhaps that was Alastor’s case as well?

You should’ve brought a face mask. You move the stethoscope lower to his abdomen. Digestive track… you press the diaphragm tighter against his lower abs to get a better read. 

This time, the low noise that escaped his throat was almost impossible to miss. The strange feeling inside you squirms at the sound, but you clear your head of any dirty images, knowing that the radio demon was famed for not being interested in anything of that matter. Right. He’s most likely just in pain. Stay professional. You shift the stethoscope around, searching for a sound. Don’t make this moment any longer than it already is, you pray to no entity in particular.   

You move further down, still not hearing a sound from his digestive tract. Was that the issue here? He’s been having a rough time because there’s issues with his digestion? Well, that would certainly explain his reluctance to admit his illness. 

You’re so focused on listening that you don’t notice the gasps through gritted teeth rising in volume, relentless shifting of the demon beneath you, or the way your head, leaning ever so close to his skin in an unconscious effort to move closer to the stethoscope, was fastly approaching a forbidden area. Not even the heated gentle graze of suit fabric brushing against your chin interrupted your concentration. Neither did a strangled static-filled noise piercing the air. 

It was only when you felt the sudden assault of rough cloth, covering something pulsing warm and hard, colliding into your cheek did you finally blink in surprise, dropping the bottom half of your stethoscope in your haste. 

You stand up in a flurry, fluttering your lashes in disbelief as Alastor, the infamous feared radio demon overlord you only just met today, laid on his bed beneath you bucking his hips shallowly into the air where your face was a moment prior. His teeth are clenched so hard crimson black liquid drizzles over his gums and soaks the lapels of his suit. His eyes twitch along with his flattened ears, flickering and crazed, while his claws have shredded what was left of his bed sheets at this point.

“A-Alastor…?” 

His voice turns into something inhuman, growls layered with the eerie buzz of static. Before you could fully process the situation, he encircles a hand around your wrist, gripping you with bruising force to land on top of him. His arms encircle you, sinking his claws into your hips. Fuck, that hurt. But… you let yourself breath in his scent at last, having let your guard down with the suddenness of his movement. The effect was immediate. It felt as though you’ve given yourself a tranquilizer, with the way your muscles seemed to suddenly fail you and you melt submissively like butter into his hold. 

He tosses you onto all fours, and your elbows knock into one another as you strain to hold yourself upright. The dizzying, all-consuming fog of heat building within you and permeating each of your senses with its presence was all too foreign for you. Your mind scrambles, losing all progress of diagnostic thoughts. You wanted to pull away, to get him to calm down so you… could… talk…

That was the last of your conscious thoughts as you feel yourself slip into some sort of hypnotic bliss. He pulls your skirt to the side swiftly, pressing his hips to yours, the movement coarse and sloppy. The noise he lets out at the contact is depraved. 

“Darling… I’m just going to stay here for a bit… ngh - just for a bit.”

For a moment, he simply stays still, staticky gasps breathing hot on the back of your ears. He played with your tail, which was shaking back and forth with a mind of its own. You arch your back needily, pressing into him and prompting him to growl and finally hump into your heat. 

Was he saying something? You couldn’t tell with the way your brain had gone soft. An internal, animalistic voice told you to not think. Just part your legs and let the buck behind you have his way, it says. You whimper, the soft sounds slightly muffled by Alastor’s pillow - his pillow, which smells deeply, intoxicatingly, irrevocably like him. You’ve only met him today, but he was safe. The voice tells you that he’s yours, he’s going to protect you, he’s going to mate you.

He snarls into your ear at your needy whimpers, roughly jerking his hips into yours repeatedly. You whine, feeling the heat inside your abdomen crescendo into a sudden pain. You need him. You need more of him.

“A..Al…astor…hah… p-lease I need mo-re…” Your words fall apart with each thrust of his clothed cock over your soaked pussy, eyes starting to water with the frustration of not having his cock fill your aching hole.

In your heat-ridden mind, there was nothing you could think of but the insatiable need to be fucked dumb until you were filled by something. You cried in disappointment at not knowing what to ask. You try, you really do, but you can’t remember what the two of you were doing before this for the life of you. You gather enough strength in your ragdoll limbs to twist your neck at him, hand clumsily reaching for his pants. 

Then he stops.

He fucking stops.

Like a spell being broken, Alastor’s movements stutter to a halt the second your finger touches his zipper. He tears himself away from you, breaths shaky as he steps backward. It takes your dumbed-down consciousness a few moments to register what was happening. Your eyelids, which have begun to stick together from the adhesive of your dried tears, pry open ungracefully.

No. No, no, no, no, no! The fire in your abdomen twisted and turned, threatening to consume you whole with its intensity. He can’t leave now. No! You whine in protest, but he’s avoiding all eye contact with you. The bare skin on your hips were damp, and you realize it must be from the sweat you now see dripping off his skin in torrents. His mouth is twisted irregularly wide, even for him, as though he were pouring his all into maintaining his composure.

“My dear, I’m afraid I lost control of myself there. I do apologize, but right now you need to leave.”

You whimper, still stupidly reaching for him. Why would you leave? He’s right there. You need him, and you can smell, with a frightening accuracy you’ve never previously noticed in yourself, the desperation rolling off him. You climb toward him needily, pawing for his well-endowed girth, still twitching and hard under the offensive cloth, begging to be freed. 

“LEAVE.”

He didn’t take so kindly to your advances this time. With a single blink of an eye, you were torn away from your potential release and thrusted into the hallway, where you landed on your bottom, legs folded under one another and ears pressed against your head, staring at Alastor’s shut door with dazed eyes and unfulfilled burning in your womb.

Shit. As your mind clears and you tune into your surroundings - the red, flickering lights of the hallway and coarse texture of the rug beneath you - you think of the diagnosis that’s been right under your nose (literally) this whole time. You’ve dealt with animal patients before.

Yearly pains, usually lasting several months. Signs of fever. Changing behavior. Your heated reaction to his condition, the supposed contagiousness of it all. You’ve been blind as a deer in headlights. 

Alastor was in a rut.

_____________________________________________________________

Alastor thought that he'd gotten used to his ruts. That he would be able to handle his issues himself for the rest of eternity. 

It’s been nearly a century since he’s landed in hell, nearly a century since the torture began.

The first time the feeling hit him, it had been a complete shock. The feeling was foreign and intrusive; and while he had gotten used to his new height, physical animal features and sudden craving for cannibalism rather quickly, this cursed feeling was an entirely different field of issues altogether. 

He’s never been interested in sexual intercourse with another. Of course he knew what desire meant, but his own sense of desire had been so low throughout his life he barely needed to even touch himself. The small, infrequent bouts of want he experienced as a human was nothing like the searing hot whip of desperation that would haunt him in hell. He found it amusing, in an unpleasant sickening way; the way he thought himself to be entirely fearless, unaffected by what usually frightened others, yet the higher ups still ended up finding the one thing that bothered him and used it to punish his dead soul. 

He maintains the same grin and duties he had to attend to normally, albeit with a stiffer posture and less patient remarks. He didn’t touch himself. He had found out the hard way, during his first year, that touching himself would only increase the desire to an unbearable point and draw out the rut that much longer.

So he’d suffer through day by day, ignoring the itching in his antlers and the yearning confined in his slacks. 

Unfortunately, he’s come to the realization that each year without a mate, the duration of his rut would last longer than the previous. This year had been the longest yet, and given how fast time seemed to pass when he was not in a rut, it felt as though barely any weeks had passed since his last rut. If he were being honest, perhaps five months would be a better guess than three. Still, he followed the same rule he always did: do not give into the urges by having another, or make it worse by touching himself. It was his way of maintaining some semblance of control down in the depths of hell, where he found himself chained to not only a master but these unfavorable urges of his.

Though it was easier said than done. Many times he’s found himself unable to keep his composure, excusing himself from breakfast with the others, locking himself in his radio tower for days working on scripts, killing any scum who walked his way, doing anything to distract himself from the treacherous burning in his crotch. Anything to stop the inevitable bucking of his hips into nothing as his lower half takes on a mind of its own, wretchedly trying to catch a surface, any surface, to grind on.

Just when he finally got himself under enough control to sit at the bar for a drink, his hotel friends join him. Usually this was not a disturbance, yet the way they all seemed interested only in talking to him did strike his suspicion. People never initiated conversations with him, unless it was to foolishly challenge him to a fight. Not even his supposed friends, who had grown cordial enough with him over time but still maintained a comfortable distance.

Yet here they were, taking turns talking to him as though they’ve been doing the same congenial routine since he got here. Suspicious indeed!

He smelled her before he saw her. A sweet, tantalizing scent which wriggled into his throat and squeezed, causing him to stiffen his muscles and lid his eyes. She’s a doe. He realizes this all too late as he finds her standing in the doorway, bathing in the mouth-watering scent. The sudden flash of pain in his pupils alerts his companions, but not before they too, notice the girl.

He wanted to leave then, and really he could do so if he wished. Vaggie and Angel Dust couldn’t defeat him, and Husk was under his control anyway. But the traitorous need to get more of that delectable scent wafting off her body in waves was too strong for him to ignore. He’d only stay a few minutes more, he promises himself that. 

A few minutes turn into 10, and suddenly he’s all alone with her. 

A doctor. How ironic! She claims to hold the cure to his miseries, all the while not knowing that she had become part of the cause. Her presence was nearly unbearable to him who’d been in a rut for so long without a mate, and Alastor had to physically force himself to sit still by digging a claw into the meat of his thigh. She doesn’t notice his dilemma, nor does she notice the subtle crossing of his legs to hide the bulge of his painfully erect member, that had started leaking profusely into his slacks.

He plays the part of a gentleman the best he could, warning her with his eyes to maintain her distance. The poor girl was nervous and self-conscious, he could feel that. Normally he’d never care, but the damned hormones that influenced his thinking during his rut told him to soothe her, to assure her that everything would be ok, as tears quiver down her face. It was disgusting, the feeling of wanting to protect another. Disgusting, but also oh so right.

He held back when she accidentally touched him in the hallway. He held back, when she leaned in uncomfortably close, checking his temperature. He held back when she turned around, revealing her twitching tail and skirt that would be so easy for him to tear away and have his way with her. 

Yet he knew the unavoidable situation that would occur as soon as she had him lay down on his back, stethoscope in hand. He couldn’t help it. Each touch of her cool, gloved fingers pressing against his too-heated skin felt like the bitter promise of heaven for a soul deep in the trenches of hell. 

When her face is that close to the throbbing, aching part of his lower half, there was nothing he could do as a sharp sting of pleasure shot through his brain. He bucks his hips upward, body spasming and entirely fatigued from the many decades of having denied himself his biology. 

Why was he doing this again? At this point, who was he fighting against? Was he proving a point to the higher ups, letting them witness his impressive self control? Or was he torturing himself, making himself a fool by adding to the pain they already gave him? 

In the midst of his dilemma, he hadn’t noticed the way he grabbed her body and threw her onto the bed, nearly humping his hips into hers. He had been pent up for so long that he couldn’t even feel the pleasure initially, because his body was so used to him denying it. But when she turns her head to him, reaching out to touch him, looking at him with hazy, needy eyes…

Yes, that snaps him out of his thoughts. He must be out of his mind. After surviving a whole century of this torture, now he was letting go of himself all because he was put in front of another deer demon? 

He forgoes being courteous and removes her from his room as fast as he could, not giving the animal part of his brain a single second to change its mind. 

As soon as she was out, and he made sure his door was locked, he let out a pained growl, nearly crawling away from the door. His antlers lengthened, form twisted, the more animalistic part of him cries out in anger. Anger at himself, for throwing out his only chance at relief. His cock feels nearly numb with pain, growing in need from the narrow encounter a few moments prior. Resigning to his fate, he shakily unbuckles his pants, refusing to rip them off like he truly wanted to, for the sake of the little dignity left inside him. Rationally, he knew he was about to make things worse, but his instincts fed lies to him, telling him that this would make it all better.

Before he could even begin touching his leaking cock, he heard her. More specifically, he could hear her broken whimpers through the wooden material of his door, echoing needily through his head. Her scent had grown even stronger if possible. It was mind-numbingly sweet, despite the intensity being anything but so. He must’ve sent her into a heat, he realizes. 

This was going to… complicate things. Although Alastor could take care of himself, and was prepared to do so for the rest of his time in hell, he couldn’t let her - his doe - suffer from something he caused. Especially not with his current state of mind, where every molecule of his being told him to protect her. His mate. 

Then he hears the unmistakable slick sound of small fingers thrusting into something wet, and his ears stand pin straight as they turn to the door. 

He decides that the devil has tested him enough.

_____________________________________________________________

You’re leaning on the shut door of Alastor’s bedroom, sweat pooling in the thin threads of your clothing. Through the door, your head was clear enough to think; but that didn’t stop the incessant heat pooling between your thighs, attempting to suction all your attention toward one thing and one thing only.

Was this the type of pain Alastor has been in this whole time? You whimper, rubbing yourself depravedly against the rough carpet beneath you. 

There was nowhere to go. You were in no state to ask Charlie and the others for a room of your own, and you wouldn’t be able to tear yourself away from the scent of him if you tried. You mewl as you ground yourself in just the right spot - but the usual satisfaction didn’t come. Frustrated, you try grinding yourself harder into the carpet, ears alert for any noises you might catch from beyond his door. You hear the unzipping of his pants, and you cry, feeling almost betrayed at the sound of him. Shakily, you tuck your fingers beneath your skirt and plunge your fingers into your entrance, letting your fingers fill the gushing cavity.

You moan at the glimmer of relief, then immediately sigh in frustration as your fingers did absolutely nothing to quell the ache. 

The door rips open. 

“Alastor?” You blink wearily up at the disheveled demon, all seven feet of him glaring down at you. It doesn’t even register you to feel embarrassed at this point, with your hand still stuffed under your skirt in an obvious act of self-pleasuring. 

In a blink, the ground beneath you disappeared. Black smoke claws at your lungs and you squeal, finding yourself reappearing into existence on a plush crimson mattress. He materializes in front of you, breathing inconsistent and ragged, the radio static heavy in his voice. 

“Darling…” He encircles your wet thighs with his damp gloves, leaning over your so closely you could feel his sweat drip onto you. He leans his forehead on yours, the flush on both your faces matching in color. “I need-.”

You pull him down by his hair before he could speak, tiring of the whole waiting game. You didn’t want to hear a whole speech, all you wanted was to have him rail you so deeply into the bed you’d forget who was who. His lips crash onto yours, and you kiss him furiously, the heated passion arising from natural biological need stronger than anything you’ve ever felt with a human man.

He groans into your mouth, spreading your legs with his knees, and slots his cock desperately into your soaked pussy. This time, you don’t give him enough time to pull away before you hurriedly work at the zipper. The moment your hands wrap around his member, hotter than the rest of him even, he lets out the most depraved noise you’ve ever heard another make. To think that you would’ve heard such a thing from the radio demon seemed nearly incomprehensible just a few hours ago. 

He takes control again then, flipping you haphazardly into the four-legged position you had assumed earlier. There was no need to prepare anything - the both of you were leaking so much that you were sure he could slip in without any pain, despite his impressive size - but still he hesitates, pausing with his tip at your entrance. It twitches against your slick.

He must be thinking again, you realize. Thinking dangerous thoughts, that would take away your relief. You weren’t going to let him stop this time, especially knowing now how badly he needed it.

“Alastor if you don’t put it in right now-.” 

He growls, each rivet of the sound layered with radio static. Without another word, he thrusts his whole length in. Or at least you thought it was the whole thing. But when he doesn’t move, and you peek curiously at the junction between you two, you realize with fascinated horror that he was only halfway in. 

You keep your neck in that twisted position, wanting to watch his face while he waits for your walls to loosen enough to take the rest of him. Instead of looking away, like he’d done so while trying to hide his condition, he stares straight into your eyes with his piercing blackened gaze. Between his dark eyes, the slightly lowered grin, lengthened antlers and bloody drool slipping down his chin, he almost felt more animal than person. Especially given the complete silence, aside from his staticky heavy panting. Like he was incapable of speaking at the moment.

The enchanting stare-off between the two of you was interrupted by a sudden sharp thrust from him, causing your head to tilt back as you ground out another whimper. There’s a loud smack as his balls hit the base of your pussy. Something wet drips on your bare shoulder blades, where his claws had torn off the top of your shirt. It’s from his mouth, you realize. His hot breath condenses on the back of your neck, and without warning, you feel the entire top row of his teeth sinking into your skin followed closely by a guttural moan. You half scream, half moan at that, and you feel the lips on your neck curl into a grin.

He starts moving his hips; back and forth, back and forth. Little white specks dot your vision, which was blackened as your eyelids reflexively shut from the overwhelming pleasure. Your brain shuts off, the only things you could feel being the throbbing yet fulfilling sensation of his teeth digging into your neck, the warm rivulets of your own blood running down your sides, his claws shredding into your hips, and of course the maddening gratification of his cock repeatedly drilling into your hole.

This heat thing- no, he was turning you into a hedonist. You feel his teeth momentarily pull out of your skin to lick at the blood trickling from your wound, your heartbeat helping gush the red fluid out in erratic waves. There’s a gulp; he’s swallowing, drinking the blood out of your body as he never stops thrusting. 

He pulls his teeth out and suddenly flips you around, cock still thrusted deep into your womb. You get a good look of his face, his eyes half-lidded, pupils an endless reddish black void, smile dripping with a mix of his natural darkened bloody spit and the fresh, vibrant red of your blood. He leans in, pressing the salty iron on his lips to yours. You, in all your heat-dazed mind and curiosity, let him thrust his tongue into the cavern of your mouth, invading your tastebuds with something musky and bitter, mixed well with  a pulsing sweet irony taste. 

You’re tasting him on your tongue. Him and you, together. You must really be fucked dumb because that’s the thought that brings you over the edge, body stilling as a cry rips from your throat, choking on the blood that had started to clot in your throat. Your walls spasm wildly around his length, causing him to thrust faster.

He fucks into your limp body on the bed, a look of deep concentration on his face as he works to overcome a century of not having orgasmed. He cums without any warning, face frozen into the same smile he always wore. He doesn’t want you to see him come undone. 

Your breaths begin to steady as he clings onto your hips, spurting endless amounts of sperm into your body. It never seemed to end. Each time you thought he was done, his hips would convulse and you’d feel another bout of liquid fill your womb. You reach a shaky hand to pet the bulge that filled your lower abdomen, your innards being stretched uncomfortably full from the girth of his knot and endless cum. He glances at you then, almost sheepishly. Almost apologetically, like he’s doing something wrong. You caress his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

You speak up. “That was… not what I expected when I arranged this appointment.” 

He stares at you in what looks like amusement.

It’s only now, in the aftermath of your session, that you notice how much of your blood was coating your skin, forming a thin, sticky layer. Yet he showed no signs of stopping, the same deranged grin gracing his face as the one that was there when you first started speaking. 

“I apologize dear, but it seems that we are far from done.”

He digs his teeth into your abdomen now, savoring the taste of iron on his tongue. You hiss in pain, twisting your body on the sheets as though to avoid his assault. But he maintains a firm grip on your sides, and you give in, letting the pleasure of being under his control overtake the pain. He sinks his teeth deeper, and there’s a weird tingling sensation where he bites. You wiggle a bit, realizing that the tingle was coming from the strange sensation of his teeth hitting muscle. 

“N-not done…?” Your own heat felt like it was fading, returning you to your normal state of mind.

“I’m not sure how long this will last, given the amount of time I’ve been putting off the whole ordeal.” He pulls your thighs around him and situates you in his lap. You blush, feeling shy all of a sudden at his unexpected display of affection. “Once it deflates enough to pull you off…” He nibbles at your earlobe, threatening to bite into the soft flesh. “We’ll be here for quite a while darling.”

You hum contemplatively, resting your head on his sweating chest. A long time… you weren’t looking forward to explaining all the missed appointments to your patients.

And you certainly weren’t looking forward to facing Charlie and the others. 

_____________________________________________________________

Two weeks later, Alastor finally let you leave his room for the first time. 

You limp to the door, wondering how you were going to explain the fact that you spent two weeks straight fucking the cum out of your supposed patient. Well, he was still a patient. And you had treated him. Just with a more hands-on method than you originally thought. 

You had cleaned up to the best of your ability in Alastor’s bathroom, where he took you one last time over the sink. Luckily, your shirt covered any wounds he left on your upper body. Unfortunately, given how short your skirt was, there was no way you could hide the deep bite marks from your thighs to your ankles. 

“So… you found out that his ‘illness’ was contagious because you contracted it, then locked yourself in his room essentially to quarantine from the rest of us?” Angel asks speculatively. It was clear he doubted the words coming from your mouth.

“That’s the most kind, pure-hearted thing I’ve ever seen a sinner do!” Charlie on the other hand, instantly bought into your lie. She holds your hands excitedly, a million thoughts racing through her head at what she could do with this information.

“Then what about those marks on your legs? Looks like you got mauled by an animal.” Husk is quick to point out the evidence, but you laugh, covering it up with another excuse you thought up.

“Oh that’s from when I went exploring alone in the swamp. Alastor didn’t tell me there were dangerous animals in there. Now I’ve learned my lesson!”

“Riiiight then why didn’t either of ya respond when we came checkin’ up on you all those times? We were worried, ya know?”

Alastor enters the bar, a grin brightly plastered on his face and clothing as polished as ever. “We were busy!” 

He’s already decided that you wouldn’t be leaving his side after you saw him in such a vulnerable state. That, and the strange alteration the rut left on his hormones has led him to form an… unexpected connection to you. After a few back and forths, you excuse yourself, standing up from the bar stool and heading back upstairs with the excuse of forgetting something in Alastor’s room.

On the way up, you feel the burning of several suspicious stares, as well as a strangely possessive and loving one. Your phone dings.

It’s a message. From Angel.

Just admit ya’ll fucked up there

.

.

.

A/N:  I’m not a big fan of writing “he growled” buuuuut my other options according to Google are “he snarled, barked, yapped, bayed(?)” and I wasn’t about to fucking write about how he bayed at the sight of your pussy. Maybe I should’ve just gone all in on making him a little bitch and only wrote “he whimpered pathetically” but alas the fic is over

[chiwhorei]

OOOOH THE BOYS uhmmm what abt gross daddy butcher ! butcher who's possessive of his little girl, keeping her locked up tight, hidden away from anything and everything that could hurt her.

Now Daddy Billy is a goOD DADDY. I feel like went a little crazy with this but the bugs in my brain wouldn’t let me stopp. Cough cough, my fatherless behavior, that’s the bugs.

Tags: incest, stalking, debugging, noncon, manipulation, daddy issues for REAL ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა♡

Daddy Billy who would would have Grace looking after you your whole life so no one hurts you. That means he was never around, but that was for the best- that’s what he’d tell himself at least. You aren’t just the most important thing in Billy’s life, your the only thing important to him. Billy is motivated by your existence alone, running towards a finish line, checking off names on a kill list to make it safe enough of a world for you.

The first time you meet Billy Butcher is at a bar close to campus, you’re out from Grace’s nose for the first time in your life, trying to have all of the normal-young-adult experiences.

That’s when you meet a man old enough to be your father.

He’s rough around the edges for sure but there’s something about the older man that seems to be dragging you towards him. Maybe it’s the fatherless behavior your friends always rib you about. He’s tall, undeniably handsome and has a sexy accent. His black hair and beard is peppered with gray, he’s got a jagged scar above one eye and his hands are covered in bruises and scratches.

Billy introduces himself with his real first name, testing the waters to see if Grace had told you anything she shouldn’t have. You introduce yourself with a clueless, glossy smile. He buys you a fruity drink and you laugh at his jokes. He lets you bitch about the stupid frat guy that just broke your heart, he even offers to kill ‘em if you give Billy his address. You laugh that off too, but there is intent behind his words that you don’t pick up on.

For a second Billy feels like the most normal person in the world. You’re not the daughter he’s been keeping tabs on since you moved to the city— now mere inches away from him instead of states apart. And he’s not the bastard everyone else knows him as, crawling around in your peripherals looking for a chance to pounce.

He shouldn’t have invited you back to his place, but you were far too drunk to walk home alone- plus his apartment is just around the corner! You wobble on your heels following him inside, and Billy catches you.

You start babbling and hiccuping and squirming in his arms. You’re body is feeling heavy and your head is foggy, usually just one drink doesn’t get you more than a little tipsy.

“How’s about Daddy takes care of you tonight, sweetheart?” And you giggle into Billy’s neck, nodding and running your fingers through the rough hair on his face.

“You- you wanna be my daddy?” You look up at him with lidded eyes, he brushes a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” You don’t catch the subtext between slow blinks, looking up at your father with no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Billy makes a mental note to not dose you this strong next time, he almost feels bad at how out of it your are. But you also fall into the mattress so easy and you arch your back so pretty when Daddy’s hands paw at your ass.

He fucks you raw and deep. You cry out for your daddy and beg to be his good little girl. You want nothing more than to be a daddy’s girl, even barely conscious. That burns in Billy’s blood, pumping into your poor pussy even harder. He’s got a lot of making up to do.

[hazbininlove]

Hopelessly Devoted - Chapter 3

-About 5.5k. No real warnings in this chapter!

Charlie is more or less freaking out at the moment. She received news a week ago that Esther would be coming back down to assist with the Hotel and would be bringing a guest. Now today is the day of that visit and she feels like nothing is ready. Everything in the hotel feels out of place and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

“Charlie, you need to relax,” Vaggie says, coming up to her and placing her hands on Charlie’s shoulders. Charlie grabs at her own hair in frustration.

“I can’t, Vaggie! Esther didn’t come into the hotel last time and I just want it to be perfect! And she said she’s bringing someone else! What if it’s Sera? What if it’s Michael?! WHAT IF IT'S GOD?!”

“Charlie! She’s not bringing God to our hotel! And I doubt she’d bring Michael here! He’s probably the last person who’d ever willingly down here.”

Charlie groans and slumps into Vaggies hold. “What am I gonna dooooooo-“

“Do about what?”

“Ah!” Charlie jumps out of Vaggie’s hold and looks to the entrance where her dad is standing. His eyebrows furrow in concern.

“You doing alright, apple pie? You look uhhh kinda tired,” he inquires.

“Dad! Hi! I could really use your help right now! Esther is coming down any minute now and he’s bringing someone and-“

“Esther!” Her dad yells, his hands now gripping her arms. “She’s coming here?! Today?! Now?!!”

“Ooooh I see I forgot to mention that,” Charlie replies sheepishly, laughing awkwardly to herself. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

Lucifer’s hands let go of her to grip his own hair, knowing his hat off his head. He starts pacing as he freaks out.

“Oh hell she’s coming here. I haven’t prepared anything. Nothing has felt right! I haven’t even had the time to fix up my wings. My WINGS!”

He yells, and his wings pop out behind him in the largest form Charlie’s seen from him in months, knocking over a painting as he does so. “Satan’s smelly asscrack! They’re a mess! How the fuck am I supposed to impress her with this disaster?!”

“I don’t think Uncle Satan would appreciate that comment,” Charlie mumbles, trying to defuse the situation.

“He’s an ugly sweaty fuck! He can handle a few insults in his name!” Lucifer yells back. He pauses, groans, and rubs at his temples. “Sorry, apple pie. I’m just nervous and didn’t mean to yell. Satan definitely deserves it though.”

“Aren’t the two of you supposed to be twins or something?” Vaggie asks, approaching the two of them. “Isn’t that why people confuse you two so often?”

“Aha, no, you know all those pictures of a red dude with horns that people think is me? That’s Satan. He’s just such a damn menace that of course when shit goes sideways, they think he’s the actual devil which then confuses people and- you know what? It’s a whole thing. The point is, he smells like shit half the time I see him and I think he does it on purpose.”

“Dad, I think we’re off track again. Why are you freaking out about your wings? And can you please make them smaller before you break anything else?” Charlie asks.

Sheepishly, Lucifer does just that, letting them get smaller until they’re at a more appropriate size indoors. He snaps his fingers to fix the things he knocked over and continues pacing as he fiddles with his hands.

How does one explain to their daughter that he has an inside joke of sorts with his soulmate and now as part of proving himself to her again, he has to behave like a duck during mating season and impress her.

Shit, had Esther even meant that literally? Knowing her humor, she probably did, though she definitely expected more than just that as an apology. He wasn’t entirely sure how to apologize either. He’d told her everything the week before. Of course, just because he explained and apologized doesn’t mean she had to forgive him. And he knew one apology wouldn’t make up for several millennia apart, due to his own actions, but he really didn’t know what else to say or even do to make it up to her.

It just stressed him out more that he couldn’t think of anything to do about this. He couldn’t lose her again, not when he finally had a second chance. He’d been struggling to sleep for the past week just thinking about her. Her beautiful dark blue eyes, her wavy black hair with the streaks of white, the rich blue on the underside of her beautiful wings. Lucifer feels his heart beat a little faster at the thought of her bright smile aimed at him, eyes crinkled at the end in pure joy and those cheek marks on the corner of her mouth so high they almost look like they’re reaching her eyes.

“It’s nothing Char,” he replies to his daughter. “I just want to look my best when she arrives. And you said she’s bringing a gues- Who the fuck is she bringing?”

“We don’t know, sir. We can only assume it’s another angel,” Vaggie answers for her, likely stopping Charlie from panicking again.

“Oh fuck me! It’s probably Michael! It’s definitely Michael,” he replies, hands in his hair again as his eyes start to turn red and his voice sounds almost layered. “She talked about him so much last time, it probably is him. That fucker probably did mess with her head. She said she doesn’t love him but someone with Stockholm Syndrome probably wouldn’t admit they have it!”

“Okay!” Charlie claps loudly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here! Vaggie’s right. We need to relax and think things through. I doubt she’d bring him of all people here. So let’s just focus on one thing at a time! Like cleaning up the lobby!”

Lucifer looks at his daughter with a blank stare and snaps his finger. A burst of gold sparks from his hand and sweeps around the room, cleaning up any dust and straightening out paintings and chairs alike as it goes.

“Can I go back to panicking now?”

“No!” Charlie yells, grabbing her dad and leading him towards the elevators. “We’re going to go get ourselves looking presentable!”

Vaggie watches in amusement but also concern as her girlfriend drags her whining father out of the lobby. Looking around the room, he definitely did a good job of cleaning up and saved them a good amount of time. Especially after the disaster left in the wake of Charlie’s own panicking.

She’s thankful that her and Charlie’s relationship isn’t as complicated as Lucifer’s and Esther’s. She feels bad for them. Knowing what she knows now, it all seemed like a “right person, wrong time” situation. And who knows how long those two even actually spent together before Lucifer had fallen.

The books she read aren’t exactly clear on how long between Lucifer’s creation and the creation of Eden took place. Lucifer is older than Earth, that much she knows, but how much older remains a mystery to everyone except the man himself, and she isn’t sure if asking is appropriate.

And to an immortal being who’s been around for as long as he has and still looks like a relatively young adult, how does time pass for him? Sinners remain the age they died at, but was Lucifer like Adam, Lilith, and Eve? Was he also created as an adult? Were the older angels created as children and then raised into adulthood before the aging stopped? Looking at a picture of Lucifer and Charlie, Lucifer looks the same age now as he did then. Now that Charlie’s older, he looks like he could’ve been a teenage father.

Had Lucifer and Esther had thousands of years between their creation and the Earth’s creation to spend together, or had it just been a few short years together before their forced separation? It doesn’t really matter, at the end of the day. They seemed to be the first and most functional of three pairs of soulmates ever made.

Like Esther had said the day before. The first attempt to recreate them ended in disaster with Adam and Lilith, Eve… No one in heaven had seen Eve in thousands of years and Adam never cared to talk about her besides when insulting her. The only pair that seemed to want to be together was Lucifer and Esther, and even they weren’t actually together because of the miscommunication between them that caused eons of loneliness for the two of them.

No wonder God never made more soulmates. The more Vaggie thinks about it, the more her head starts to hurt. She walks around the lobby instead, making sure nothing was out of place even with Lucifer’s magic.

A knock on the door alerted her to a guest. Vaggie paused, looking over to the bar where Husk had paused in his own polishing, and stared back at her.

“Try to keep the drinks to a minimum, please,” she says to him. He rolls his eyes but continues wiping the bar as she walks towards the door.

Before she can reach the door, a swirl of shadows lifts from the ground, and she curses to herself as she sees Alastor appear from it. She’s practically sprinting and he shifts his eyes to look at her, smile stretched impossibly wide, as he grips the door and pulls it open.

”Welcome, dear guests, to the Hazbin Hotel,” he says, greeting the two at the door.

There is Esther, smiling softly in greeting, with a taller man beside her. His skin is ghostly white like Lucifer’s, but his hair is black like Esther’s. It’s a bit longer than Lucifer’s, falling more into his face and curling around his neck. His suit is impeccable, white pants, black coat, and gray waistcoat. Along the shoulders of his coat are black pads lined in silver with intricate designs. His eyes are dark gray, bordering on blue closer to the pupils.

He looks like royalty, carries himself with an air of importance, but his eyes look soft and his expression is easygoing. It takes Vaggie a few moments before his appearance clicks in her mind.

This is Azrael, the Archangel of Death, the Virtue of Patience.

He’s rarely seen in any of the spheres of Heaven. He, like Raphael, spends most of his time on Earth. When he does return to Heaven, he passes through the spheres and says his hellos, but typically spends most of his time on Primum Mobile with the other higher ranking angels that aren’t ruling over a sphere like Sera.

If he spends any time in another sphere, it’s likely the first sphere where the majority of the winners reside, or in the third sphere where he was created, Venus, just as Lucifer and Esther were.

Well, Azrael is certainly better than Michael in terms of who would stress Lucifer out the most, but Vaggie isn’t holding out much hope. Esther had mentioned that Azrael was likely to visit, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Especially since it’s only her second visit.

At least she could say that of all the virtues or archangels to bring, the Virtue of Patience would probably be the best to deal with all the chaos the people of this hotel were capable of causing.

Both of their wings were tucked away and out of sight, which was probably for the best both to get them through the door and so they wouldn’t take up too much space. They likely planned on spending a good amount of time there, if that was the case.

Vaggie bows to both of them, nervous at the sight of one of Heaven’s strongest angels. Azrael doesn’t fight, might as well be a pacifist, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable. The Seven Capital Virtues all have more power than most beings besides God himself, and even they aren’t the top of the hierarchy the way that the Seven Deadly Sins were down here in Hell.

“Welcome! It’s an honor for you to visit us,” Vaggie says. She may not live in Heaven anymore, or agree with everything they do, but even she knows the Virtues and the Archangel of Death deserved her utmost respect. Esther visiting had been a shock, especially since Vaggie had never seen her so she didn’t know her importance.

“Please, no need for all of that,” Azrael replies. His voice is light, almost airy, but strong. It’s so different from Lucifer’s rich and smooth tone of voice. Lucifer, despite his awkwardness around his daughter, talks in a voice that is loud and boisterous when he wants it to be, like he’s demanding attention. Azrael’s voice sounds more like a soft breeze, calming and comforting.

She supposes when it’s your job to console the souls of the dead and guide them towards their final resting place, a comforting tone is probably for the best.

“I assume you know who I am?” Azrael asks, taking a step into the hotel after gesturing for Esther to enter first. Vaggie nods, not sure what else to say. “I don’t get to say this often, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He holds his hand out for her to shake, and she takes it. His grip is just as soft as his voice. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

“None of that. Azrael is just fine,” he replies.

Behind them, Esther is greeting Husk and Alastor. Vaggie wants to warn Esther that staying away from Alastor is for the best, especially considering Lucifer’s hatred for the other man, but there’s really no nice way to say that.

Lucifer’s not going to be happy when he sees both a brother of his that he hasn’t seen in eons suddenly here, and Alastor around the love of his life.

Today’s gonna be a shitty day in hell, that’s for sure.

“Well, where is our lovely host? I’ve been dying to meet my little niece,” Azrael says, looking around the lobby. Esther chuckles behind him.

“The puns will never stop with you, will they?” Esther asks him, a knowing smirk on her lips.

“Not until my last breath,” he teases back. It’s then that Vaggie realizes he’s been making references to death. It’s not something she expected, but knowing how Lucifer acts, she can’t say she’s entirely surprised that the weird jokes run in the family. “Now, my niece, please?”

“Right, yeah, she actually just went upstairs with her dad a few minutes ago, so they should be down shortly,” Vaggie’s replies. She wants to offer to go get them, but the idea of leaving them alone with Alastor sounds like a bad idea. Especially knowing that Husk is likely too drunk even this early in the afternoon to do anything about it.

Something in Azrael’s eyes flash at the mention of Lucifer, and his smile tightens just a bit. It’s not a good sign in Vaggie’s eyes.

“Samael is here as well? How splendid, I’ve missed the little one,” Azrael says back. Vaggie sees Esther roll her eyes at the nickname. It appears Lucifer’s height is a running joke. “My workload increased drastically when my fellow angel of death fell. Of course there are others but Samael was always a joy to work with.”

“You know he prefers to be called Lucifer,” Esther scolds him. Azrael pats her gently. They don’t look alike, besides the black hair, but they act almost like siblings.

The way Lucifer and Esther were created, to be practically married, and the fact that they’ve known each other for thousands of years, Vaggie wouldn’t be surprised if the other Virtues did see her as a sister.

Azrael hums but stays silent on the subject. Instead he chooses to move around the lobby. He goes to the bar to greet a stressed looking Husk as Esther approaches her.

“It’s Vaggie, correct?” She asks and Vaggie nods. “It’s nice to see you again, dear. I apologize for not mentioning Azrael’s visit. He likes surprises and once he has it in his head, there’s no stopping him.”

“Yes ma’am. It was definitely surprising, but I think that’s because I tend to forget that Charlie’s dad was also a high ranking angel.”

“Technically, he still is,” Esther replies. She smiles down at Vaggie, her eyes warm despite the dark cool blue color they have. “He may not be allowed in Heaven anymore, nor is he a Virtue as he once was, but he’s still one of the oldest and strongest of the angels.”

“How interesting,” Alastor says, approaching them. “One would think we’d see more of this strength you speak of.”

“If that was the case, you’d be wiped from existence with the way you like pissing him off, asshole,” Vaggie replies to him. She pauses for a moment to look back at Esther and apologize for her language, but the angel doesn’t look upset at all.

“Well, I suppose some good came from our king’s reclusive nature then!”

Alastor’s eye twitches but he says nothing more, thankfully.

Even after the battle against Adam, Vaggie knows that was nowhere near Lucifer’s full strength. The man was once a Virtue, an Archangel who answered directly to God, and a Seraphim, the highest rank of the angels. He wasn’t called God’s favorite angel for nothing. With all the power Lucifer was given upon his creation, being called the favorite almost felt like an understatement.

Not that there weren’t angels stronger than Lucifer, but Vaggie read about the fall. Lucifer wasn’t just tossed out of the gates like Charlie’s story makes it seem. Lucifer fought, and he fought hard. Michael may have led the charge against him, and been the one to throw him and Lilith towards hell, but it took several angels, mostly Seraphim, to finally weaken him.

Lucifer truly was a terrifying being, even before becoming the first sin.

“I hope you know you have nothing to worry about, dear,” Esther says to her as Alastor walks away. “If he’s anything like he was before, he’s never cared much for power.”

That much is obvious. Alastor didn’t call him a recluse for nothing. Lucifer has made it clear many times that he doesn’t care for sinners or want to truly rule them. The only times he shows off his powers is when he wants to show off for Charlie or do something for her.

“Now, tell me about the hotel, dear. Any new arrivals?”

Vaggie sits with her on the couches as she discusses the details. She’d prefer Charlie to be here, but she won’t keep her waiting either.

They haven’t had any new guests. Half the sinners were scared another attack would come from Heaven and wanted to avoid it. A few cannibals wanted to but really only for the promise of more angels attacking so they could eat more angels. Rosie had taken those few back quickly enough.

Vaggie wasn’t going to mention the cannibals to her, though she did mention their dilemma.

“I see, so an announcement should be made then, to confirm the end of these exterminations,” Esther decides.

That would require either Vox or Katie Killjoy, neither of which Vaggie wanted to deal with or felt Esther should have to.

Before she can respond, the elevator dings. Before she turns, she notices Azrael’s attention now off of Husk and turning towards the elevator as well.

“Okay, we’re ready to get this plan done!” Charlie says as she exits the elevators! Lucifer is behind her, messing with his clothes and patting himself down to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Uhh, Charlie?” Vaggie says, loudly enough for Charlie to hear her. Charlie looks to her, catches sight of Esther, and her eyes go wide.

“Oh shit she’s here already!”

“Where?!” Lucifer calls from behind her, his wings once more popping up. He doesn’t make them as large as last time, but they definitely look a bit better compared to minutes before. They puff up behind him, shaking a bit like a rattle snake’s tail, though clearly more from anxiety than warning.

Vaggie’s eyes shift to look at Esther, who’s covered her mouth a bit and looked away from the display, though based on the way her cheeks are raised, she’s trying to hide a smile.

“Well isn’t this a marvelous display?” a soft voice says. Vaggie turns to her other side where Azrael is standing now beside her, a smile on his face just as before. “Wonderful display of wings, brother.”

“A-Azrael? What are you doing here?” Lucifer shuffles closer to the door of the now closed elevator.

“I do believe Esther mentioned my desire for a visit. I simply couldn’t pass up the chance when she mentioned her plans to return so soon. It’s not often I have a moment to myself after all. But enough of that, this must be my niece, Charlotte, correct?”

“Yes! Hi! I’m Charlie! Um- Uncle?”

Azrael chuckles at Charlie’s stammering and approaches them. It’s at that moment that Lucifer moves forward, eyes narrowed and wings spread high and wide to cover Charlie behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Lucifer repeats, his tone much harsher now compared to his panicked tone before. Esther moves forward now, stepping between Lucifer and Azrael calmly.

She steps closer to Lucifer and grabs one of his hands. “Listen to him first, please. Don’t be rash.”

“Don’t be- You want me to believe one of my brothers just suddenly wants to visit?! Out of the goodness of his heart?!”

“Lucifer-“

“It’s fine, dear,” Azrael says, cutting Esther off. Lucifer’s eyes narrow further at the term of endearment. “He has every right to be suspicious. Our siblings, myself included, have let this go on for far too long right under our noses. And after the last time he saw us, it’s only fair he should be worried.”

Lucifer looks at Azrael with suspicion as he continues.

“Worry not, dear brother, I have no ill will. My intentions were solely to express my apologies for not being aware of this massacre of souls.”

Lucifer’s wings lower a bit when Esther’s hand tightens on his own. He looks at her briefly before looking back at Azrael and rolling his shoulders, allowing his wings to fully disappear again. Esther sighs in relief in front of him and gives him a comforting smile before moving completely out of the way, giving them the full view of Azrael.

It’s Charlie who looks between the three of them before coughing and offering them a seat. Both men nod and Charlie guides them back to the couches where Vaggie is still sitting.

“Thank you, my dear. It truly is wonderful to finally be able to meet you. I wish it were under better circumstances but I suppose there’s no better time than the present,” Azrael says to Charlie. She lights up a bit as she sits beside Vaggie, and motions for him to sit across from her. Esther sits beside him on the couch, and Lucifer looks conflicted before taking a seat beside his daughter, his scowl clear and directed at his brother. “I’m sure you’re aware, but I am Azrael, one of your father’s older brothers. You may call me uncle if you’d like!”

Lucifer’s scowl deepens but says nothing as Charlie squeals in excitement and bursts with questions towards the older man. Vaggie is grateful that Azrael just happens to be the Virtue of Patience, because she isn’t sure any of the other Seven, especially Michael, would’ve lasted as long as him or answered as many questions.

“Babe, slow down. How about we talk about the hotel,” Vaggie suggests. Charlie takes a deep breath before rushing to go get her poster presentation that she’d apparently made especially for this.

She goes into detail about how she understands the number of sinners is greater than the number of winners which is why redemption would help even out the numbers and keep Hell’s population more steady. Azrael and Esther nod along as she speaks, taking in all of the information she presents to them.

“My biggest concern is that so far, we’ve only redeemed one person, and we had to watch him die for that to happen. Does that mean every sinner has to die and just hope they’ll be redeemed?”

“That’s hard to say,” Azrael replies. “Little is known about this, or that redemption was even possible. It shouldn’t be a surprise though. Father always says there is time in one’s life to repent for their ways.”

Charlie nods, happy that someone agrees.

“However,” Azrael continues, “it’s hard to say exactly in the afterlife. There’s a reason I never realized what was going on. I am fine tuned to the lives of living souls, and it is my job to guide them towards their afterlife, whether that be Heaven or Hell. Once they pass either gate, my connection to that soul is lost. They are not meant to die again in their afterlife. They are meant to remain where they are, whether that be punishment in Hell for their sins, or reward for their good behavior in Heaven.”

“But we can change that! We can give sinners a chance to repent in their afterlife,” Charlie replies. Azrael nods, but his face grows a bit more serious.

”I will be honest with you, dear child. This is new territory for all of us. We have yet to see if the souls of the dead can receive a retrial that does not require a second death. But if those from Heaven can fall,” Azrael says, his eyes shifting briefly to Lucifer beside Charlie, “then I have no doubt those from Hell should be able to ascend. I ask that you remain patient as we all navigate through this new discovery.”

Charlie nods along and Azrael smiles brightly at her. He stands, patting down his clothes to remove any wrinkles and offers his hand to Charlie.

”Now! I would love to hear more of your plans to entice sinners to the idea of redemption and a tour of this lovely establishment of yours! Let’s go, I believe your father needs a break from my presence and I would love to hear more about you without his glare on my head,” Azrael announces, already walking towards the elevator with Charlie who’d taken his hand. Vaggie follows after them, confused and a bit entertained by the man’s behavior.

“Now hold on a minute,” Lucifer begins to say, before he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks over his shoulder at Esther who is smiling at him, and nearly forgets his worries. “Esther, I don’t know how I feel about this.”

”Do you believe I’d bring anyone here that would harm your daughter?” She asks in return. Lucifer pouts a bit but shakes his head. “He’s been very excited about this trip to meet her. The other Seven have wanted to visit as well but Azrael convinced them not to overwhelm you.”

“I think I would prefer Ramiel. Or Raphael. Or Uriel- Or, really anyone but Michael,” Lucifer replies. “Ramiel definitely would be preferred though.”

“Funny you should say that. Uriel and Cassiel send their regards, by the way. They say they love and miss you, and that they will be sure to judge you themselves should I choose to forgive you.” Esther laughs when Lucifer throws his head back and groans. “Ramiel managed to convince them not to, though Michael… Well you know how Michael is. He is hopeful, though he has his concerns.”

“Michael can shove his concerns up his own ass,” Lucifer mumbles to himself, though he smiles finally when Esther laughs a bit at his words. She moves her hand down his arm until it stops around his forearm just below his elbow. He instinctively curls his arm and moves his other to hold her hand on his arm.

“How about you give me your own tour?” She asks him, changing the subject. “I didn’t get to see the hotel last time I was here.”

Lucifer nods and guides her through the hotel for his own tour while his daughter shows his brother around. He’s still wary of it all, but he knows Esther is right. She wouldn’t bring anyone that would hurt them, and Azrael is the least likely, besides Raphael who’s dedicated his life to saving lives, to ever start a fight. Had it been Michael, Lucifer isn’t sure if he could’ve been stopped from attacking him on the spot. He at least has much fonder memories of Azrael.

He guides Esther through the hotel, showing off some of the different rooms such as the parlor, kitchen, or the more recreational areas he added himself simply because he could upon the hotel’s reconstruction. He puffs his chest in pride as she looks on, impressed by the hotel’s amenities.

He vaguely motions towards Alastor’s radio tower, not keen on taking her there, and she doesn’t question his reasoning, thankfully. She seemed to have caught onto his distaste.

Instead, towards the end of their tour, he leads her towards his own workshop. Not his room, he knows she won’t appreciate that level of forwardness, but he knows his new growing collection of rubber ducks will amuse her.

It’s not something he’d typically show off to anyone, and he’s sure under normal circumstances this isn’t something you’d show to someone you were interested in dating, but Esther wasn’t just anyone. This was something so much more than dating.

Part of him wondered, after Hell’s creation, if maybe they were meant to be separated. If humans were allowed to choose their partner, why couldn’t he? It had bugged him for so long. Part of it was what led to Charlie’s creation if he was being honest. But then he’d think of Esther, of her beauty and kindness, of the warmth he felt just when her eyes were on him, and he thought being bound to someone like her was the greatest gift his father ever gave him. He doesn’t regret Charlie, not in the slightest, even if he wishes Charlie’s mother could’ve been Esther, but sometimes he thinks his greatest punishment wasn’t his fall, it was the loss of his other half.

He’d give up everything if it meant another chance with her.

He leads her into his workshop, grinning proudly at the wonder in his eyes at the sight of all his rubber ducks.

She moves further into the room as she lets go of his arm, rushing towards the ducks in the rooms and grabbing at a few.

“Lucifer, what is all of this?” she asks as she chuckles, holding a rubber duck in her hands to inspect its design.

“My rubber duck collection,” he says, laughing to himself as he picks one up. “This isn’t even half of it.”

“Where are the rest?”

“In my manor,” he responds. He sits at his desk and watches her inspect another duck. “I think I made at least one a day for years.”

”That… doesn’t sound very healthy,” Esther says, lowering the duck in her hand and approaching him.

”No, I don’t think it was,” he responded, a melancholic smile on his face. “But they were something that comforted me when I felt like everything else was falling apart. Lilith left, can’t say it was without warning. She was getting tired of my moping and there was really nothing either of us could do about it. The friendship was already falling apart after Charlie’s birth. We tried to get along, we’re still friends, I think, but she didn’t want my hatred for Hell to affect Charlie. Charlie and I weren’t always close because of it. And for a long time, I felt more alone than ever. So I started making these to take my mind off things, and it helped.”

Esther is silent as she kneels in front of him, a hand on his knee in comfort.

She looks at him with those beautiful dark blue eyes, hair falling into them, and he reaches out to move her hand behind her ear.

”Why ducks?” She asks, voice just above a whisper.

”They reminded me of you,” he replies, pressing his forehead against hers. “They were something we created together. I used to create these beautiful projections of them for Charlie when she was a little girl and she loved them. They felt like a little piece of you here with me.”

Esther’s hand that isn’t on his knee moves to his hair, moving through the short hairs on the back of his neck.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about you. I’ll admit I wanted to sometimes. I thought maybe it’d hurt less if I just erased the memory of you, but then I’d think of your smile and everything hurt a little less. I’d think of the times we spent together, of how blissful everything felt with you by my side, and I couldn’t forget you. And then Charlie was born and I wanted her to have a piece of that happiness.”

He closes his eyes as his hands comb through her hair, enjoying the feeling of her’s in his own.

”You truly are something special, Lucifer Morningstar,” Esther says to him. He chuckles lightly and lifts his head to place a kiss on her forehead.

“Only because of you, Esther Eveningstar,” he replies, lips still pressed against her skin.

He never wants to be apart from her again.

————————————————————————

Apologies for any typos. My sleep schedule this week has been lacking to say the least.

Another character introduced! Learning about Azrael was fun for this. When I read he was from the “third heaven” I panicked a bit because it didn’t seem to fit with Dante’s spheres of paradise, but then I remembered that he and Lucifer(Samael) are angels of death, so having them all from the same sphere felt fitting! I was originally going to have Ramiel be the first to visit, as the Virtue of Kindness, but decided on Azrael instead because I thought Patience would be the best for Lucifer to be reintroduced to.

Anyways, at this point I feel like I can’t post a chapter unless I include a drawing at the end. This time I I decided I wanted to draw an idea for Lucifer’s look when he was still the Virtue of Humility. The Story of Hell shows him in a robe and still with his hat. I’ve seen people say his eyes were blue before his fall, but as his name means “the shining one” I feel like gold is more fitting. I also headcanon that his halo didn’t take the shape of a snake until after his fall, with the apple being added because of his actions, and as he took on a more demonic form, his appearance shifted as well. His eyes shifted to red, and when in his demonic form, his irises shift back to gold, but now with red sclera.

I’m not entirely happy with this drawing but, I didn’t want to hold off on posting the chapter so here it is!

Taglist: @dreamcatcher62 @art3misa635 @cimadreamer

[pokegalla]

Requested by @tryslogic

Brooooo a part three AND with Papyruses?! They deserve more love and I shall give it to them✨ (Warning: A little spicy up ahead!)

How Touchy Can They Be In Public With Slightly Large Chested S/o! (Pt.3 with Papyruses✨)

Stretch:

* Ah yes the lazy carrot himself. With his chill nature could he be too lazy to think lewd things?! Well of course he can- he’s the type of…..closeted pervert? Like he is not gonna outright do anything or say anything unless it’s on the down low- other than that, he might be generally too lazy to do it…..or a little shy surprisingly.

* You probably randomly find out when you wore a nice tight shirt. With a whole amount of cleavage that leaves nothing much for the imagination- and he is staring respectfully…..a lot. If you catch him, he’ll just chuckle and shrug like yeah yah got me. Though he does get a little sheepish and looks away blushing.

* In private, he’s actually quite a big snuggle bug. He don’t care if he’s the big or little spoon. Heh mainly because he could either have your tits on his back as the little spoon or tits in his hands like stress balls as the big spoon. Plus he gets cuddles and possible smooches? He’s in heaven✨

* Now does he tease you in public? Ooooh boy. He’ll tease you via puns- seriously he’ll probably make you smack him or laugh. Maybe both- “Hey babe. Am I the breast guy you ever loved?✨” “Babe please-“ “Woah Calm your tits- I just found a cup for us *Shows coffee cup with a honey bee on it* Damn sorry It’s a b-cup-“ “BABE-“

* He’s just a silly guy who loves you very much……and no he’s not going to run out of boob jokes-

Mutt:

* Now NORMALLY I ask if this AU variant is capable of being lewd. But- this guy is so GODdamn HORNY, he broke that continuity in these headcanons- don’t get me wrong! He has his cute moments. But nah we don’t need to even ASK if he does bruh-

* And I highly doubt you take him to public without wearing a baggy sweatshirt- because I know the first time you tried wearing Y’know something regular that shows your outline, he was clinging onto you. Either face nuzzling your chest, or pulling you close by your waist, your chest directly pressed against him. Hell will the sweatshirt REALLY help-?

* In private he’s more like a cute cuddly puppy, snuggling you and asking for headpats. He even whines like one and if you don’t he has the cutest puppy dog eyes. And honestly it’s quite a sweet moment. He’s also the type of guy who requires a lot of trust so to see him unwind and be this affectionate is really rewarding. Though let’s be honest he can turn this from sweet fluffy moment to having you two break the headboard after having fun in the sheets~ If you in the mood? Oh he’ll take you there-

* Teasing? Absolutely. And very blunt teasing too- like from tell you how pretty you’d look with love bites all around……to straight up GRIPPING a booba with no hesitation- mans gives no fucks- might have to drag him to somewhere private before he does something right then and there. But he’ll apologize right after! “Sorry babe….I just can’t resist you. I love you so much!” ……you can’t stay mad at him can you? 😏

* Overall he really is your cute puppy dog✨

Papyrus (The Classic✨in case there is confusion-):

* Well……I’ll be damned. He actually had me stumped- but ok ok. Can this literal ball of sunshine be anyway lewd? My answer? I’d say……surprisingly yes? But very very vanilla- like he’s a grown ass Skellie, of course he’d be attracted. But it’s so damn innocent and sweet.

* Seriously in public he can’t help but smile and compliment you because he thinks you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen- he tries not to get easily flustered because he’s The Great Papyrus! He’s supposed to make YOU feel flattered! Though the way he stares at your booba and looks away apologizing profusely, I think you feel flattered already.

* In private, nothing is better than cuddling with your S/o after training all day. But please let him know it’s ok to lay on your chest. He always hesitates. But once he gets comfortable, he’ll be a cuddly bean, skull resting upon your booba✨ he even gets curious, wondering why they are JUST like pillows! He also gets surprisingly romantic and leaves praises and kisses all over you, saying all the bits he loves about you. If he ain’t careful, things will take a steamy turn with you two~

* A lovely cinnamon roll who is always ready to shower you in love! And we can all agree: very adorable✨

[masonmyluv]

Secret relationship- Fermín Lopez

Hello everyone! I decided to start writing about Fermin since he’s really hot 🥵 Hope you enjoy!

Mostly fluff in this story, some kissing and a lot of teasing, mentions of accident and blood, but nothing too bad

"Fermin, what are you doing? Someone could see us" you whined as he dragged you behind a wall. "Just needed to kiss you before the game" he said, pecking your lips. "Okay you got your kiss, come on" you said, trying to push him away. "Noo..." he whined, lips moulding with yours in a passionate kiss. "Y/N, where are you? We have to take our places". "Fuck" you moaned, pushing Fermin away. "I'm coming" you replied. "I can't be mad at you because it's your first game in which you start. So good luck" you said, leaving to go with your co-worker.

Nobody knew about your relationship with the Barça player. Your colleagues in the media department always asked who was bringing you coffee almost every morning. And the Barça players always asked Fermin why did he have rosy cheeks or smiling a bit too much after a hard training.

"Camera ready?" Alex, your co-worker asked. "Yep. You?". "Sì. Let the game begin". It was the first time you got to revoked the game from the pitch, field cam as it was named. Obviously it was kind of dangerous, but you like to see the action from up close. That was until a player from Betis tackled the ball and slid into you. And to make it even worse, the ball hit Alex in the head. "Fucking hell" he moaned in pain. "You're bleeding. Hey! You gotta stop the game!" He shouted to the referee, but the game was resumed. "It's fine" you said, although your leg looked really bad. "Hey! Stop the game!" Alex kept shouting until the Betis goalkeeper noticed you two.

"Huh? Why did he stop?!" Gavi asked fuming. "Probably a fan fainted" Pedri shrugged. "Fuck no" Fermin groaned, making a run to where you where surrounded by the medical team. "Hey... what happened?" He asked, a hand on your shoulder. "Just an accident really" you said. "This job's dangerous eh?" The player who tackled you joked. "Apologise to her right now" Fermin said. "It's not a big deal. I get those all the time" he shrugged. "Yeah? What about I rip your leg in this game then?" Fermin turned defensive. "Fermin" you said. He turned to look at you, eyes flaming red. "Okay sorry... bitch" he mumbled the last part, but Fermin heard him and pushed him on the ground. "Fermin! Stop it" you said, but the Spaniard didn't listen to you. Both of the players got a yellow card for it and the medics helped you walk to the changing rooms.

"You're stupid" you told Fermin. "I agree" Gavi said. "Even I wouldn't do that—". "You would do it for your girlfriend" Fermin argued. "Girlfriend? Whose girlfriend is what???" The whole squad turned to look at you. "I... uh... we... you see..." you mumbled. "Y/N, my lovely girlfriend" Fermin said, smiling. "What no! We're not—".

"OOOOH!!!"

"Now I see everything!"

"Yeah me too"

"Why was he smiling after that hard training"

"And he's rosy cheeks too. He was meeting with Y/N"

You were completely confused. "It's okay. I'll Talk with your boss, explain the situation" Fermin's voice was calming you. "I thought... you're..." you still couldn't form a coherent sentence. "Fermin is in love" Ferran sang. "Yeah... I kinda am. With her by my side how can I not be?" He said making you blush. "It will be alright. I promise" Fermin said, pulling you aside. "I'm not sure" you said. "And if they kick you out, we have more time to spend together" he shrugged. You gave him a look. "Okay... I know this is important for you. I promise you won't lose your job because of me" he said. You caught Gavi's smirk and decided to give them something more to tease Fermin with.

"Ouch my leg" you moaned. "Are you alright? Sit here on the bench, love" Fermin panicked, putting your arm around his neck for support. "Aww look at them" Lewi said. "Shut up okay?" Fermin said irritated. "Can we go home?" You pouted. "Of course. Just let me take my things" he said, pecking your lips.

"Really you don't have anything to worry about. It's not like it's forbidden to date one the players" Pedri  said. "Not really I think. I just don't want people to go crazy over it" you said. "I promise we will only tease him, not you" Gavi said. "Okay I'm ready. Let's go" Fermin said, helping you up again. "Speedy recovery, Y/N" the squad said. "Thanks guys".

"I so love you, Fermin" you said when you were in his car, far from all the teasing. "I knew it. I love you too" he said, smiling into the kiss he gave you.

Hope you like it 🥰

Feedback is appreciated ☺️

[lizhly-writes]

hey guys do you wanna hear about my bad idea ahahaha i'm just joking i'm going to tell you whether you like it or not.

anyway! au where jiang fengmian brings back a starving orphan from the streets, and his name is yue qi.

(what happened to wei wuxian? don't worry about it it's fine) (idk maybe he doesn't exist? whatever)

yue qi is strong. yue qi is talented. yue qi tries harder than anyone. yue qi is perfect and you can't even really be irritated at him for it, because he's nice and polite and good-tempered and absolutely everything you could ask for in a da-shixiong.

jiang cheng feels so fucking bad about this. second best even in a whole new au, huh, a-cheng? but it's not your fault. even op protagonist bing-ge couldn't beat yue qi in a fair fight!

nobody knows this, though, so you're just going to have to suffer through the comparisons. it's your mom and your dad and all the little disciples thinking that yue qi is better than you. ooooh, that can't be good for that burgeoning inferiority complex your mom's instilled in you, huh?

but, you know. jiang cheng's going to be sect leader. he's going to need a strong sect. even if his mom fuckin bitches at him for not being as good as yue qi -- yue qingyuan -- then at least he's going to have a strong right hand, right?

HAHAHAHA.

so there are two routes we can go here. for the sake of my early morning ramblings, we're going to go for the more unrealistic one that requires me to jump through more hoops, because i think it's hilarious.

yue qingyuan starts getting more distant as he gets older. going on long nighthunts away from the lotus pier, you know. he stops leading the disciples in morning drills -- or, well, it's less that he stops, and more that he's not around to actually do that.

he's not around a lot.

snide, snide commentary about how yue qingyuan is going to run away to become a rogue cultivator, just like -- (but we don't talk about them). how yue qingyuan's not going to be da-shixiong for much longer. every time yue qingyuan returns to lotus pier, he seems to be more tired, more wound up, more stressed out --

and then everything stops. yue qingyuan comes back one day emotionally catatonic. he doesn't respond properly when people talk to him. unrelatedly (of course it's unrelated), there is some wailing and weeping in the night. some little shidi thinks that somehow a resentful ghost has made it into the pier and alerts da-shixiong about it in the morning.

thankfully, da-shixiong is back to normal in the morning. "i'll take a look," da-shixiong says, and then everybody forgets about it because da-shixiong is back and da-shixiong stops going on those long nighthunts away and everything is fiiiinnnne, don't worry. and if da-shixiong is a bit more brittle after that -- well, you're probably just imagining it.

jiang cheng worries about it. but yue qingyuan never says anything, because that's what yue qingyuan does. he never says annnnnnything to anyone.

of course, there's only so long you can argue with da-shixiong when the plot is coming up. gusu happens. the wens happen.

jiang cheng and yue qingyuan get sent to the wen evil summer camp, or whatever it's called. indoctrination, right?

lectures. drills. meaningless busy work for the sake of beating people down. obedience, and more obedience. there's a wen staring down every class, just waiting for them to slip up. there's one in particular that seems to have it out for yue qingyuan, sharp mouthed and pointy and HAHAHA OKAY, you've probably guessed who this is, haven't you? you're a genre-savvy audience, i bet!

ah, but i'll spell it out anyway, don't worry. for a-cheng, maybe, because jiang cheng can't guess, because yue qingyuan doesn't tell him anything. jiang cheng's out of the loop, on the outside, like he always is with yue qingyuan. don't worry, jiang cheng -- you're not special. he treats you like he treats everyone else.

but ah, that's the problem, isn't it?

jiang cheng stumbles over da-shixiong at night, past curfew, arguing with the wen. or, really, it's not arguing -- the wen is verbally eviscerating him, and yue qingyuan is just letting him. attacks on yue qingyuan's character and talent and everything, and about how yue qi's CLEARLY found a replacement (replacement? what does that mean?) and fine, you think you're so respectable now, of course only a high-bred sect heir is good for you (that jiang-gongzi, do you think he's a better version of me) (is this the version of me you've always wanted?) --

all yue qingyuan says is "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry--"

there's got to be one question on your mind, huh, a-cheng? yue qingyuan seems to know this wen. pretty well, it seems -- those insults aren't generic, this seems personal. why? how?

who the hell is wen qingqiu?

[clarqbcw]

Paper rings { jack champion x f!reader }

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this <3

Synopsis: Jack and you have been friends for a little over a year . Paper rings were their inside jokes, but what if it wasn't just a joke but real.

Cw: NONE 🤭🤭 just straight fluff, that's it bcs as much as I like angst I can't write it what so ever ✊️✊️

It was the scream six premiere and I was going with my life long childhood best friend jack! Everyone looked amazing but I couldn't help but feel a tad out of place! I mean these are FAMOUS people!!!!

We watched the movie, and it was so weird seeing Jack evil and also getting stabbed. We were on our way to the after party when I started messing with my small paper ring jack had made me a year ago.

" y/n meet Jack! " my friends say high off their mind. I laugh and shake his hand! " hi I'm y/n sorry about our mutual friends they take having fun all night to the literal definition! " I say as he laughs at our friends.

The moon is high. Like your friends were the night that we first met

I left a little after that and immediately searched up " jack," and what popped up was " jack champion " on Instagram and everything else. My friend follows him, so he must be the one ( a/n : hehehe t.s )

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

" What are you thinking about y/n ? " I hear devyn ask with concern in her voice. " Oh, sorry ! Nothing important, don't worry !! " I say soothing her when Jenna pipes up," probably about jAaAaAcK, " she says in a sing-song voice. " Oh shut up, Jenna," I say, defending myself. But she wasn't wrong. I wanted to he his. He's the one I want, but I don't if I'm the one he wants.

I mean, sure, we played cat and mouse for a month or two or three, but I couldn't remove the thought that you just wanted to be friends. I wish I could just be next to him all the time.

Cat and mouse for a month or two or three. Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

I just want to kiss him one two three times, but I will hold off on that till we confess. " Oh yeah, she's definitely in love with Jack," Jasmine says, breaking my thoughts that were indeed about him. " Who's in love with me?" I hear that oddly familiar voice say. I jump and give Jasmine a look . That " Shut the fuck up before I murder you " look and the girls all giggle while jack looks at me confused. " anywyas y/n I actually need to tell you something real quick! " everyone does their 2nd grade " oooohs " at this.

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night. Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright.Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

" Okay now that we're alone I've been meaning to tell you something but I don't know how to say this so sorry if it's not the best but, I really like you and I wanted to know if you'd be willing to go out on a date and maybe perhaps be my girlfriend?" He says as fast as he could. I just squeal. Embarrassing, I know, but HELLO ??? The jack champion likes ME!!!! " Oh no, okay, I'm sorry about that -" he rambles. "Jack, just shut up and kiss me." And with that, he does :)

" is that a yes?" I laugh " jack I would marry you with paper rings of course it's a yes! "

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings. You're the one I want. I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Uh huh Darling, you're the one I want

A/n : I LOOOOOVEEEE LOVEEERRR!!!! Also, I really enjoyed this one!!!!! I know it's not a lot, but I have zero motivation, so!!!

[fiddleturnips]

Bonding

This is an excerpt from a larger, incomplete chapter.

Stanley slammed the door on his way out. He didn't really have anywhere else to go, though, so he didn't go anywhere. He sat on the porch and smoked, staring at these unfamiliar Northwest mountains and thinking about how stupid it was that this dumb argument had apparently lasted decades.

Stan was on his second cigarette when Fiddleford came out. Stan didn't turn around, but he could tell it was him. His steps were trying to be heavy, but he probably weighed half what any Pines did including their Ma, and was barefoot besides. He stomped unmenacingly over and sat on the stair beside Stan.

"Can I bum one of those," he said. He was glaring out at the woods like he wanted to punch the whole mountain range in it's big stupid face.

Stan tapped one out and passed it. He shared his flame. Fiddleford took a huge drag that doubled the volume of his chest and hissed it out.

"Trouble in Paradise?" Stan joked.

"Thought I'd finally talked some sense into that man," Fiddleford snapped. "Always gotta be the smartest in the room, with his twelve cotton-pickin doctorates and his one man research grant, don't he get you can't solve everything with just smarts."

Stan suddenly decided he liked this guy. "Yeah. Yeah, it's always, oOooh, if I'm the biggest genius they ever saw then they have to crown me the king of fucking France or whatever. Everything that goes right, it's 'cause he was just better. Anything goes wrong was a fluke. Like, geeze, man, maybe if your entire future rested in a seventeen year old's ability to break the laws of physics it's the system that's the problem, y'know?"

"EXACTLY!" Fiddleford flung his arms out. It almost hit Stan in the face. "He did good in school, and I'm real happy for him, I really am! But it's like, we were in the same classes, and goshdurn it, I was better than him! So what's this magical force what makes him think everyone who didn't get where he did just didn't try hard enough?"

Fiddleford was starting to lose him now, but Stan got the impression the guy needed to vent from how loud it was coming out, so he didn't say anything.

"I tried, Doctor Stanford Pines, I tried till it almost killed me, and then I help you try til that almost kills me too! Maybe your dreams ain't worth all that!"

"Oh, yeah. And, like, maybe your dreams ain't everyone else's dream, too," Stanley said. It probably wasn't a fair thought, but it was one that came on him all the time in motels and WalMart parking lots: what the hell were dreams worth, if you went one way and he went the other and neither of you ever got to see each other again?

Fiddleford glanced over and huffed a smokey laugh. "Truth. Not sure how many daddies and doctor types need to hear that." Fiddleford wrinkled his nose. "Ack, forgot how foul these are."

"Then why'd you bum one?"

"Hoping to trick myself into thinking it was something stronger, I guess," he said, scraping out the lit end on the porch and leaving it in case Stan wanted the other half.

Stan side-eyed him. "You payin'?"

Fiddleford looked over at him in surprise. Then down.

Stan was peeking a baggie out of his inner coat pocket. It wasn't much, maybe half an ounce, and it was cheap shit. But hey. A sale's a sale.

Fiddleford didn't even ask. He just pulled a fifty, threw it at Stan, and snatched the bag. Stan passed him a box of rolling paper, and Fiddleford rolled first one, than a second, out with astonishing dexterity.

"Shit, you know your stuff."

"I had a social life in school."

He offered one to Stan, who lit them both up. Fiddleford lay back on the porch and sighed deeply.

"So. What's the story here?" Stan asked.

"Oh, Stanford's my best friend," Fiddleford said. "And as much as I hate to say it, your brother really is all that. Not only the biggest genius I ever met, but one of the best academics to boot. Brains alone don't get degrees."

"And now, uh, what's going on?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, we've been awful." Fiddleford sat up and occipied his hands by making more joints, resting his own on the stair between tokes. "Doctor Pines is here on grant money he got after groundbreaking solo research and a very impressive proof of concept at a conference a few years back. Now, I don't suppose you'd know much about academic politics, Mister Pines, but that is what we call a very big deal, especially when you look at what they gave him. And if I'm being completely frank, it's not primarily the work that's good. The man could convince the board to dig a canal in Arizona."

"What? Sixer?" Stanley laughed. He noticed, but didn't quite register Fiddleford's flinch at the name. "Guy never took a date to a school dance in his life."

"Maybe he ought've asked more funding admins."

Stanley chuckled. The weed was definitely helping.

"Anyhow, part of what he was doing here was building this big -" Fiddleford sucked from his joint, gestured lamely, lost his words - "I don't know how to describe it in plain speak. It's a doohickey."

"A doohicky."

"Portal, let's say. Real spaceman bullhockey. Let's just say, me'n him are close on the only ones as could do it, this stuff is mathematically on the edge of impossible."

"You an him, huh?"

"Oh, alright," Fiddleford said, grinning, rolling out the last of his little arts and crafts project. "Me. I'm the only one could build it. I weren't lying when I said I'm better'n him."

Stan coughed laughing. "Got a big head on your shoulders?"

"Hardly. I'm an engineer. Not an academic."

"Yeah, yeah. Smart guys. Look, I'm just a schlub."

Fiddleford's face fell. "Sorry, I don't mean that- oh, shucks, my wife always warned me I gotta watch what I say about that sort of thing. I didn't mean nothing by it. Having brains don't measure a man's worth, I know that more'n most."

"Aw, it's nothing," Stan said, made big-hearted and quick to forgive by the drugs. "You're good in my book."

Fiddleford was out of weed. He tucked what he'd made back into the bag and sealed it. When he gazed out at the woods this time, his anger had softened to irritation. "Anyway, I come out here to help him with his work. And believe me, it's good. He's got a one-of-a-kind opportunity here. But Stanford Pines is one of those Victorian types says discovery is all about taking risks, and let's just say when he takes risks I always seem to be the one who ends up with something broke."

"Aw man. I'm sorry. Seriously."

"First there was the Grenloblin, which is a horrid creature, by the way, then that cat-tannin' shapeshifter he kept as a pet even when it began to talk to us-"

"Wait, what?"

"And the gnome debacle keeps coming back to bite us, can't keep the windows sealed tight enough,"

"Gnomes?"

"And then that FUCKING demon."

Fiddleford abruptly stopped talking. He took another toke. His free hand was clenched into a shaking fist. Stan stared.

"What do you guys research, exactly?"

"Anomalies," said Fiddleford.

"Like, what, two-headed calves and shit?"

"That'd work. But Gravity Falls has gnomes."

"Little men in red hats."

"Little men in red hats."

"You're shitting me."

"I swear to you I am not."

"Don't suppose the bud went bad..."

"You'll see in the morning. I'll show you."

"You just described a bunch of dangerous shit. And also gnomes, I guess. Do I want to see it all?"

"Believe me, the most 'dangerous shit' is in this house."

Stanley, being an idiot but not that much of an idiot, was about to press him further. They were interrupted by the door, though, and his dumb brother's disapproval.

"Are you two smoking cannabis?" Ford demanded. Stanley chuckled at how much he sounded like a pearl-clutching old woman.

"Yes we are, and you're partaking," Fiddleford said, pulling out a joint. "We're making up for lost time, come on."

Stanford glared daggers. "I am not."

Fiddleford fell back on the porch, stretched his legs out in front of him, and stared upside-down up at Stanford.

"You owe meeeeeeee."

Stanford kept glaring. Then he glared at Stanley, who shrugged.

"Did you bring this?" Ford snapped.

"Technically, but I didn't offer. He asked."

Fiddleford wiggled the outstretched joint.

Stanley had no idea the look on Stanford's face was, aside from uncomfortable, but the guy relented. He stepped forward, sat as far as he could from the other two, and gingerly picked up the joint. Stan tossed him the lighter, knowing very well that he wouldn't have his own. The other boys laughed at him when he struggled to get it lit right.

"Don't worry, Doctor Pines, I'm here for you," said Fiddleford in a fond, dreamy voice.

"Very reassuring, thank you," Stanford growled.

It was endearing. It was, hell, it was cute. Despite the blow-up inside, Stan was kind of... glad? that Stanford had apparently made an actual, honest-to-god friend.

[marksbear]

Randomly thought pf this. But Aaron x his framed boyfriend (reader). His boyfriend is a simple bartender but after some murders that pointed towards his direction (all the victims being those who had hurt reader in the past. Old high school bullies, homophobic ex coworkers, strangers who made snide remarks to him in public)

You can choose if the real unsub is found or if Reader is successfully framed UwU (ooooh maybe the unsub could be Haily haha. Some jealousy of Reader stealing her man)

AHH good idea my friend! I haven't written something like this in a while so I am happy to write this! @real-levyanno hope you enjoy!

AARON HOTCHNER X FRAMED MALE READER

"Fuck me." Y/n cups his face in his hands sighing.

This is one of the places Y/n doesn't wanna be in. Hand cuffed and being interrogated by your own boyfriend and his co-workers.

Before all of this you were having a great day. It wasn't a slow day at the bar but it wasn't busy. It was just how you liked it. Everything was going perfect. No creeps were showing up, drunks who had gotten kicked out from a different bar and showed up here. Just some of your favorite regulars and a few new people.

Your favorite co-worker Liam was here too. Both of you cracking jokes and just goofing around with each other. Your boss was here to Kate and even she was chill and in a happy mood joining the fun from time to time.

Some new guy even showed up yelling to everyone drinks on him. Wow everything was just great.

Until police sirens and yelling came from outside. They all barge in at once aiming their guns at you while you clean a glass. "What the fuck----" "HANDS IN THE AIR FBI!" Derek shouts at you look you were a total stranger. "Guys cmon what is this?!" Y/n puts his hands in the air putting the glass down.

immediately cops circle around him arresting him dragging him outside. Loads of people are outside screaming at him and people takes pictures and videos of him. To top it all off there are interviewers trying to ask him questions and their cameras everywhere recording every single moment.

TIMESKIP IN THE INTERROGATION ROOM.

The whole team is in the room all quiet barely moving standing all around the room while Hotch is sitting across from Y/n. Y/n looks around confused as fuck as to why hes cuffed and why is he here.

"I can sit here and be quiet all day. Until one of you tells me why the hell i'm here." Y/n asks everyone in the room with his voice serious.

"Y/n we know it was you. We know you did it" J.J finally says something after a long break of silence after Y/n first question.

"What the hell are you talking about J.J?!" Y/n says with confusion on his face. "We know you killed those people Y/n." Reid says opening a file takes the photos of the victims placing them on the table for Y/n to see.

Y/n hearts drop once he realizes who they are. "That's Blake Jackson with his goons or his best friends really." Y/n suggests to photo where all of the boys are on the floor dead next to each other. "And that's Randy and Faith. My ex-coworkers. What the hell even my ex's and that one cheesy couple in highschool..."

"Y/n. What did all those people have in common?" Gideon questions crossing his arms.

"That they all hated me... Every single one of them hurt me in the past. All was homophobic even my ex's who dared me as a prank or a dare. They all hurt me" Y/n says remembering everything they done to him in the past closing his eyes.

"So that was your motive then huh?" Y/n eyes shoot straight open in shock and the same time betrayed. "What!? I could never do something like this!" Y/n shouts.

"I don't know Y/n. They made your life hell. And your story gives you a reason to give them the same hell they gave you." Morgan says shaking his head disappointed at Y/n.

"I-I can't believe y'all. Aaron say something! Tell them it wasn't me!" Y/n begs his boyfriend tears threatening to fall out. "We have your fingerprints on the murder weapon Y/n. We found your DNA in the crime scene Y/n." Aaron tells his boyfriend his heart aching once he sees his boyfriend teared up eyes.

"Aaron...y---you gotta believe me. I could never do something like that Aaron please. WHY! would you believe I would do something like that! You're supposed to trust me! Isn't this how this damn relationship is supposed to work!?!"

Y/n can't hold back his tears anymore. They fall onto the table and his lap as he cries softly. He wants nothing to just let this day be a dream. A nightmare or something.

Without anymore words the BAU leaves the room since their job here is done.

TIMESKIP

Y/n went to court weeks later after the interrogation. The whole team shows up in court to watch Y/n. Hotch stares at Y/n empty eyes that were once filled with hope. Y/n looks like hes been crying for days and neglecting himself from food and water only taking showers.

Once Y/n was found guilty he didn't cry. Its not like he didn't want to it was just nothing came out of his eyes. Y/n sees the team in the back of the court house. He locks eyes with Aaron before turning his eyes around to Liam giving him a smile.

As Y/n gets shown out not making an effort to fight back from the cops as they take him out. Haley comes up slowly from the way back of court and wraps her around Aaron comforting him with an evil smile on her face.

ANOTHER EPIC TIMESKIP

Years later!

Y/n was finally released early after years of investigation by his bestfriend Liam who didn't give up on him and proved to everyone that Y/n was innocent and Haley was the one who did the murders and framed Y/n.

Once the team found out about everything they immediately told Hotch about everything and all went to the prison where Y/n was held while waiting for him to be released.

Of course Hotch was a nervous wreck the whole team was. They all felt too bad and carried so much guilt about sending him to prison not even hearing him out. And not even sparing him a single visit only Penelope sends him monthly gifts.

Everyone freezes once they see Y/n step out wearing a wife beater with some sweatpants carrying a bag looking around. He looked way different he had scars on his arms some on his shoulders and he got a haircut even some tattoos on his arms and wrist.

Liam pushes past the team running to his friend full speed tackling him to a hug. The two laugh and scream rolling around finally at peace. "You bastard I love you Liam!" Y/n shouts at his best friend.

Those words made Hotch's heart ache. He never heard Y/n say those words to anyone besides him but once he heard him for the first time right now they hurt like hell.

As they get up Y/n sees the team and freezes. All the sudden Y/n begins to remember how much he cried and screamed in the interrogation room. His pleas and begs for someone to just believe him. Someone who can just listen.

Your heart swells when you lock eyes with Aaron. Liam visited you every week and told you what was going on with Aaron and Haley. After you went to jail they got back with each other fairly fast. From Liam's stories they sounded to be in a committed relationship and you were just some summer fling.

You take Liam by his hand telling him lets go, but gets stopped by Aaron getting in your way his arm out waiting for your hand to shake it. "Hi nice to meet you i'm Aaron Hotchner and you are?"

You feel yourself about to cry and smile at the same time. Aaron and you always do that every time the two of you argue and get in a fight. It's a way to start over only you and him can understand. You hated how weak you are for this man who made you lose yourself. You took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

"My name is Y/n L/n. Nice to meet you Aaron."

THE END

I may probably make another ending when the reader is the unsub or the reader doesn't take Hotch back! Hope you enjoyed and let me know if I should do it!

[chipthekeeper]

Acolyte episode 3 commentary by me, a person with no filter:

- I'm extremely nervous about this one, I'm….not gonna lie. Like in a good way, I think I'm going to enjoy it a lot, but like, tomorrow, when the whole world has seen it, it's gonna be ugly……….Who cares though!

- Alright here we go oh my god, and Mother is the thumbnail so [giggles]

- [creaky old door groans].............I'm terrified, like—

- [weakly] I'm gonna have a heart attack…………Oh it looks like Aldhani [tears in eyes]

- oh pretty tree, pretty birds, oh, maybe not bird, maybe it's a bug. not important

- [pausing for yippy dog next door] Really gonna have a fucking dog, barking right now, what, god, shut the fuck up

- It's too much Aldhani I'm gonna cry

- (hooded figure appears behind the girls) who the fuck is that!?! Oh. Sol?! Oh nooooo…what is happeningggg [nervous chuckling] I have a bad feeling about this

- ooooh! Planets-wha-what [scoffs] I was starin’ at that

- (Aniseya arrives) [gasps] MOTHEEERRRRRRRRR

- “did anyone see them?” “I do not believe so” [snorts] innnnncorrect

- [gay gasping] THERE WE GOOOOOOO [deep sigh]

- hm. Fraught lesbianism, here we go. My favorite genre

- This is just gonna be me doing a lot of hmmmmm

- I definitely keep getting confused, which is which here…….which witch is which

- Man I'm gonna be really mad if she's actually dead. If they did pre-bury these gays…well, keep me from getting my hopes up I guess…

- “Tell her you love her” “i love you” [snorts] yeah, buying it

- “you think you want something different than life in this coven” Are they giving Wheel of Time vibes? Or only because I've watched that episode like..48 times…

- Ugh, the moons!!....Whaaaat?

- Well this answers the question of who's braiding their hair. That's really fun. That's a really cute detail, actually I like that

- Does this planet also have a ring? Wait, that would make sense. We see ssssomebody flying through a ring later? Ohhhh are we coming back??

- (ascension ceremony starting) This is hot, can I move here?

- Definitely bookmarking Brendok as a place to have characters…hang out

- Do they have to climb up the pit? Is that what the ascension means? [laughing at own joke]

- [ears perking up] Unnatural, huh?

- OH my god that’s….The moons are doing the eclipse thing like in the logo hh my god….The red one in front of the blue one….

- [delighted chuckling] ohohoho what is happening….

- Woah! Magic tattoo!!

- *kitten squeaks again* Biggs go lay down. It’s a very tense moment, go lay down

- [doubtful grunt at Indara] You're stationed on that and you think it's uninhabited? Why would you be there?

- Kelnacca, you narc

- Aww Sol. He has instant dad eyes

- Sol no! Put that away–oh. Just kidding

- We don't take children, we just…entice them with toys…..He's like luring her into the back of his van…….She is into it though, so [noncommittal mumbling]

- “There are only four Jedi. Who would miss them?” That's….not good math

- “and what happens when the jedi discover how you created them?” [idiotic 12 year old boy voice] By fucking…

- Yeah, fun little dysfunctional family. I love it

- Poor Oshie…..

- (Tommen/Torbin on screen) I have a…just desire to see Ser Pounce

- (he takes her blood) Testin’ those middies!!!

- (indara explaining the jedi test, “tell us what you see”) A cup! A speeder!

- “she promised she would fail and she broke her promise” She tried!!

- (telling Mae to go with Koril) That's a great idea…

- I was dead wrong about everything I thought about Aniseya but…I fucking...love her

- Oh don't make me cry. Don't make me cry

- No love for your hardass mama though, that’s fine

- Oh my god the stuffies! What are they….

- “i’ll kill you” uh jesus christ! That's going to help you get what you want…………you little psycho…

- Shiiiiiiiiiiit….

- What is this? A vault in their room…….ah. Laundry chute……Seriously, what is this?

- We're not done, clearly….’cause what happened with Torbin and...

- [sees mother lying “dead”(?), turns into sad simba] No, no, get up. We’ve gotta go home….

- What is…[whines] You cannot. That's…….they’re leaving shit out

- “Mae started the fire” How would you know?!

- “You’ll never feel like this again. I promise” Oh damn Sol. Don't do that

- Why was this not twice as long? How am I supposed to wait another week? God!

- [lots of deep sighing] That went by so fast and I'm…..not happy

I was happy actually but immediately desperate for more

[violetsssss1]

Detective!Gyutaro x reader wip

Sneak peek

Hi I don’t know how to format or anything so please bear with me; this is what I’ve written so far and I don’t know if it’s even a good plot ?? If no one actually wants this fic I probably won’t finish it cause I low-key vomit at my own writing 💀 please ik this is bad I wrote it out of boredom

reader is fem and is hinted to be woc later in the story (specifically Middle Eastern) so uhh sorry yt ppl 😭

Premise: Gyutaro Shabana, the most outstanding yet occasionally violent detective in yoshiwara, Tokyo finds himself in a predicament when the spoiled daughter of the mayor takes her love of cop shows to a whole new level as she practically terrorises his precinct under the guise of consulting on his cases. Now he must fight crime and keep her alive at the same time 

“Can you believe it?” Gyutaro mutters to haru, a detective from narcotics, as he sips his 3rd cup of coffee in the break room, one elbow perched on the high table, back facing the coffee machine as he glared at y/n from the blinds.”Can you believe some prissy, precious little princess just gets to waltz in here and act like she owns the place?!”. Haru chuckles. “Aw come on man your not afraid of women that are.. you know actually younger than you” haru draws out. “Fuck off man” Gyutaro threatens. “But then again” he continues, “the only person you could ever score with was that old lady who’s cat you rescued from the tree!” He started spluttering with laughter (y’all this happened to my ex so I have to put it in it’s too funny) “piss off prick! You know it’s not like that! And grow some fucking balls while your at it!” He shouts across the room as picks up and launches any object within his reach. Instinctively, haru wastes no time attempting to evade gyutaros wrath, running out of the room laughing to himself. 

“Ooooh my, shabana-Kun you’re so tall and handsome” he quotes her in a high pitched granny voice “why if I was still a spring chicken I’d certainly let you-“ “Rustle my feathers!“ Daniel and two other co workers join in unison. Much to gyutaros embarrassment the trio start falling about in laughter, clearly in stitches about this inside joke gyutaro himself wasn’t even aware of. (He thought no one knew 💀) only when the mood shifted had gyutaro caught up to the fact y/n somehow appeared behind all of them. “Hey all! What are you guys laughing about??”. Silence filled the room. She looks up and locks eyes with a flustered Gyutaro.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

I'm staring at Evan in disbelief. He is searching my face for a reaction that I'm sure I must be having, but my head is having a monologue all by itself as I'm trying to replay his words to make sure I herd them right.

"Evan, I...." He speaks and cuts my words off

"You don't have to have an answer for that. You don't have to feel the same as me. But, I gotta tell ya, I feel liberated telling you" he lets out a long, slow breath. Even though he is telling me he doesn't need me to answer, his eyes are a bit glassy like he's holding back tears.

I take a step closer to him. I lift my hand to his forehead and brush back a soft curl. My thumb slides down his perfectly sculpted cheeks and finds his equally magnificent jawline and traces it.

"Why haven't you told me before now? We've known each other for years, Evan. Years. I've thrown up at Halloween parties with you. I've met your brother. I think I even let him take a sip of my beer a couple times at my house parties. You're more than an acquaintance to me. I had literally no idea." I say all this to him softly.

"It was never the right time. We've never been single at the same time. " his answer makes sense, but my heart aches thinking of all the good times we could have shared, as a couple, already. "Tell me what you're thinking. Please." His face is pleading.

"I'm thinking about all the assholes I've dated not knowing the kindest man I've ever known has secretly wanted to be with me this whole time." Staring into his intense eyes that look so hopeful right now, it makes me want to cry. "Why did you hire me?" I ask, confused as ever.

"To see you everyday" he can barely answer. He blinks and tries to be subtle about brushing a tear away with his long thumb. I can't stop staring at him and memorizing every feature, as if I may never see him again.

"Geez, Peters. Are you gonna ask me out on a date or what?"

He lets out a laugh and smiles his perfect smile.

"How about dinner right now. Can we?"

"Lets go. Somewhere quiet so we can talk" I put my hand out and he promptly takes it.

--

We ended up ubering to the nearest restaurant. We both felt like we needed a few drinks to calm our nerves. It was a good call, as we stumble back into his house, both of us good and inebreated. Neither of us able to do more than pick at our food. The good conversation made up for it. That was all that mattered.

I plop down on Evan's couch. I stare at him with what I think are seductive eyes, but I'm sure I look like I'm half in the bag. I rub the cushion next to me, indicating he sit down.

"I can't drive anywhere so we might as well have a seat and get cozy" I wink drunkenly and he chuckles. It suddenly hits me that he's not as drunk as me. "Why do you seem more sober than me?"

"I probably am. You're a lightweight."

"Ooooh Evan's got those jokey jokes tonight." I say playfully. He chuckles and he sits down. I scoot a little closer to him. "Can I confess something to you and please don't be mad at me.."

His eyebrows knit "Sure." He says softly

"Well, I realized I forgot that contract, which we still haven't mailed...And I came in and well, I saw you in your den." I watch his face turn from confusion to abstract horror. "Before you ask..I heard you cry out my name too"

"Oh God I am so, so sorry...."

"No. No Evan. There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry. It was a private moment that I wasn't supposed to see. You thought I was gone. But, can I tell you that I've never witnessed anything so fucking hot and erotic in my life."

Our faces come together. No words between us. Just heavy breathing. Rapid from passion and drunkenness. I climb on top of him, suddenly more sober than I was a minute ago. I'm now hyper aware of my surroundings and how it feels to be kissing this man. How he smells. Like lust and musk and comfort. I sit down into him and as I feel his erection pressing against me, he lets out a grunt. His hands find my face and cradle it.

"Sweetheart this doesn't mean we have to do anything tonight. We can slow down if you want to." He whispers it lovingly in my ear.

"What do you want, Evan?"

"I want you sober honey. I want us to both be in our right minds. I feel like I might not be able to...perform...normally cause of the alcohol. I want to be able to treat you how you should be treated. Is that ok?"

I can't help but smile as I stare at this beautiful man that wants to treat me well sexually. He asks me what the look I'm giving him is for.

"I don't think I've ever been with a man that cares as much as you do about how I'm feeling. Especially about this. It feels good. It feels really nice. And I want you to know how much I appreciate it"

"Stay with me anyway tonight? Please? I also need you safe. I have a guest room if that feels more comfortable for you." Such a gentleman.

"The thought of laying with you brings me more comfort actually. "

"We can do that" he says sweetly.

I climb off of his lap and sit next to him. He pretend whines and winks at me. "Plenty of time for this now" he whispers in my ear.

I lift my face to his and we gently kiss. He puts his arm around me and I lay into him. We just sit and listen to each other's heartbeat for a long time.

[mckenzie-123]

VENT!!! (TW: mentions of p3d0$, mentions of $h, mentions of $u!¢!d3)

Some bitch at fucking school is so fucked up bro, he powerd down my laptop in the middle of class(the laptops at my school are weird and if you power them off almost all data is wiped that isn't on your student acc, so ever single download is gone) the laptop that had DAYS worth of IMPORTRANT coding on it, I have to reright all of that code. He thought it was just fucking hilarious. I got up to go sit somewhere else cuz this bitch is fucking annoying. I pished my chair in, but I was mad, and pushed it in hard, so it hit the table leg and fell over, and, I didn't bother to pick it up. He kept going at me saying "Ooooh what did that chair do to you, it didnt hurt you, Oooohwhyd you knock it over"i told him to shut the fuck up a few times. I had already fucking moved at this point. The bell was about to ring so I packed up and waited at the door of the classroom as fucking far away from him as possible. Then he walked up to me and sighed, not like one of those "I'm tired" sighs it was annoying, so I told him to shut the fuck up, the class stirred a bit and the bell had rung, then he whent "OOH yeah thays not very nice!" And grabbed onto the handle of my backpack and pulled me back into the class. I fucking bitch slapped him. Straight across the face. And this wasn't the first time he's tried to provoke me. I have a girlfriend, and she is older than me, by like 3 months, and that bitch screamed in front of the whole class "YOURE A P3D0????", i said "tjats not funny thing to fucking joke a bout" and he said "hmm you still look like one." I've worn a mask every single day to school. He's never seen my face before. he also butts in on conversations, I was talking to one of my friends about VERY private matters (my $u!¢!d@/ thoughts and my $h actions) and he said "Why do you wanna k!// Yourself? And why do you ¢_t yourself, you know thats a bad coping mechanism, it's not healthy, it's not normal." WITH A FUCKING SMILE ON HIS FACE. And at this point I'm just hoping that I don't get fucking expelled cuz I've h!t some other fucker and this is my 2nd major offense, and I just don't wanna get expelled because I have a big show coming up in late May and this is my first ever show and I know I fucked up, it wasn't the right thing to do but fuck did it feel good to bitch slap him! I just hope I get couple days detention and I'll get let off the hook. Like ffs this kid can't shut up.

[reallyromealone]

Hi there, can I request a part for eddie munson a/b/o fic where they have a kid. Where eddie goes into one of his mating ruts, the whole day he is acting weird and not letting reader kiss him or anything as he knew the consequences of it progressing and he didn't want reader to go through the pain. Sorry if this is too non-specific and if you don't feel like writing it, it's okay. Thank you ❤️

-🦝

You sure can nature's ninja 💖

X

Eddie was being weird.

Like avoiding his mate weird.

And it was annoying (name) didn't appreciate Eddie actively leaving the room or making excuses.

"Are you two fighting or something?" Robin asked (name) who held a nine month old (sons name) "I don't think so... He just suddenly started acting like this the other day"

"Want me to talk to him?"

"Nah... I will deal with it tonight when he can't avoid me"

Robin laughed at this, knowing (name) was a force to be reckoned with and Eddie being suspicious was definitely a good reason.

Eddie normally always sat with (name) or have (name) sit on him but now he was beside Johnathan talking about god knows what, not feeling the intensity of (name)s stare but boy howdy could everyone else.

"(Name) I'm gonna uh stay back with Dustin and the others aight? Steve and Robbie are gonna drive you home" Eddie said at a small distance from (name) and when (name) took a step forward Eddie took a step back.

(Name) felt his heart drop at this, visibly upset at his actions and just stared at him with a heartbroken face and mumbled "fine... whatever" before turning and walking off and clutching the product of their love and Eddie realized he fucked up bad.

"Go fix it with my brother before I hit you with your own dnd binder" Dustin said and Eddie was already chasing after (name) who was strapping their son into Steve's car with tears rolling down his face.

"Baby..." Eddie said heartbroken, his alpha instincts kicking in to comfort his mate and Steve and Robbie gave them some space "what do you want, don't you have shit to do" (name) mumbled and refused to look at Eddie who looked like a kicked puppy "baby...I'm sorry"

"Why are you avoiding me." (Name) said skipping his apologies and demanding answers, justifiably pissed at his mate "I get it, I didn't bounce back perfectly and I got a lot of stretch marks and the scar and I'm not the prettiest rig---"

"Baby!" Eddie cut off, that was something they were also going to talk about "it's not you're sexy body but we are going to talk about you not loving the body that I find the sexist thing on this planet"

"Then why are you avoiding me! What did I do!"

"You didn't do anything!"

"Then why!"

"Because I'm entering pre-rut!" Eddie said looking stressed and embarrassed "what?"

"I'm in pre-rut"

"And you are avoiding me because of your pre-rut"

"Yes"

"Why"

"Because I don't want you to put up with it"

"Babe I'm your god damn mate, you deal with my heats"

"Yes but with (sons name) they are paternal heats, alphas don't really have that" eddie explained and (name) made the realization "ooooh"

"And I don't want to put you through that, we know what rut me can be like with you"

Eddie was a biter when he was in rut.

"Well you should have spoken to me instead of avoiding and not kissing me and making me think you didn't want me!"

"I know I'm sorry, it was dumb as hell but I didn't know what to do!"

"Well I'm not apposed to sharing a rut, we just gotta find duckling here a sitter...maybe with my mom but if you really don't wanna I can just go stay with my mom" (name) said softly and Eddie felt like he fell in love with (name) all over again, always finding both options and Eddie loved him so much for it "are you sure? Last time I left you with some pretty nasty bites"

"Of course, were mates and mates stuck around during the feral and horny" (name) joked sweetly "lets go home baby"

"Don't you have a thing with the others?"

"Dustin would kill me if I walked back in right now"

"Fair" (name) giggled and unhooked the baby carrier and the two went to Eddie's car, the Alpha traded his old van for cooler car that had back seat doors, that was (name)s one demand in case they needed to get to their pup fast.

Which was fair.

The two situated (sons name) before driving home and when (name) got home he went and called his mom to set up the babysitting and when she agreed he smiled at his mate "she will come and get him tomorrow!"

"So that means during my pre rut I get to coherently fuck you into my rut?" Eddie said sneakily and (name) smiled "yup!"

"Well...till then let's talk about why you don't like your sexy body"

(Name) should have expected that.