#though doves are very important to us

[apollos-olives]

do Palestinians like birds as pets? I know that y’all like cats, but do you like birds? And if so, what type of bird is commonly a pet in Palestine?

we do!! i know many people who keep birds as pets, even some family members as well. we love taking care of doves. we think they're very beautiful, and we incorporate a lot of dove symbolism in our culture. we keep other low maintenance birds like budgies or parakeets or lovebirds, yk small birds. people often have chicks and chickens, roosters, and even turkeys that you can often find on the market to buy as well. i hope this answers your question :)

[moonstruckme]

May I request a dr Remus scolding reader for ignoring a broken toe?

I know it’s nothing major (which is nice sometimes). I often break my toe and just ignore it until it hurts a lot.

I think Remus would give a good little speech about taking care of things he love (reader)

Thank you!

I'm sorry, often??? Uhh hope you're doing okay lovely, thanks for requesting <3

cw: broken toe, no description

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

“Don’t touch it,” you hiss.

Remus looks over from where he’s holding your foot in his lap with a sardonic expression. “I thought it didn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t when you’re not touching it!” 

“Dove.” He wraps a hand around your ankle when you try to pull away, his touch one part soothing and two parts stern. “I’m going to have to touch it some, okay? Just breathe and let me know where it hurts.” 

You sit back against the couch cushions and try not to sulk. This is entrapment. Your know-it-all boyfriend hid the pain relievers just so you’d have to fess up to needing them when he caught you ransacking the bathroom, and now he’s making you submit to his know-it-all exam so you can have them. Entrapment and bribery. You should look into whether you can sue him for malpractice. 

“Ah!” You suck in a gasp. “There, it hurts there.” 

Remus stops touching your injured toe. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing the bottom of your foot consolingly. “I hate to tell you, but this isn’t a sprain. Sprains don’t hurt to the touch like this.” 

Oh, you’ll bet he hates to tell you. Told-you-so are Remus’ favorite words. 

“But it’s so much easier if it’s a sprain,” you whine. “It could still just be bruised. I read online that those feel almost indistinguishable from breaks.” 

“Oh, you read it online, did you?” Remus manages to get enough eye-roll into his voice that he doesn’t even need to follow through on the action. You must look even poutier than you intend, because he cracks, grinning at you indulgently. He beckons with a hand. “Give me your other foot.” 

You blink. Raise your eyebrows at him. “What do you want with it? I think you have enough of my feet there already.” 

“It’s for comparison, dove.” 

“Sure it is.” You lift your other foot onto his lap. “Pervert.” 

Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek, suppressing a different sort of grin. He grasps your good foot and digs his thumb into the ticklish part cruelly, making you squeal and kick at him. “You’re the pervert,” he says placidly, pinning your foot until you settle down. “Look here, see?” 

You lean forward tentatively, the end of a giggle still fizzing in your chest. 

“The toe on this foot is a little curved, but that one’s definitely worse.” He tugs on your good toe as if to demonstrate. “They were probably the same before you broke it.” 

You sigh, resigned. “I don’t want it to be broken, though. Then it’s, like, a whole thing.” 

Remus makes a sorry face at you. He lifts your injured foot, kissing the side. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” 

“Well,” you say, eyeing him, “at least you can stop touching my feet now.” 

“This one, yes.” He unhands your good foot. “But this one, I think I need to keep an eye on.” 

You cross your arms, suspicious. Never mind that his lap is a very comfortable footrest. “And why’s that?” 

“Because I take care of the things that are important to me.” He cuts a look your way. “Some of us don’t seem to do the same.” 

“Ugh,” you laugh, ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks, “you’re the worst, you know that?” 

“Yeah, dovey, I know.” He smiles down at his phone, keeping one hand wrapped securely around your ankle while the other thumbs something into the search bar. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Making you an appointment for tomorrow morning. We have a podiatrist at my work, I’ll go with you.” 

You frown. “Do I really have to go to your office so someone else can tell me what you just did?” 

This time, Remus does roll his eyes. You poke him with your good foot to let him know you saw. “Yes, you do. They could help it heal faster, and I know you’ll listen better if they tell you to rest it than if I tell you.” 

“I listen to you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He looks over at you interestedly. “I told you to rest it when you hurt it two days ago. How’s it feeling now?” 

You look away from his gaze. “Coddled,” you mutter. 

Remus chuckles. He leans sideways, bumping your nose with his until you oblige him with a kiss. “If that’s what it takes, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m happy to coddle you.”

[persicipen]

pearls ノ sunday

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.2k ノ fem reader — pussy slapping . teasing ノ in front of a mirror ノ sunday buys you gifts — a necklace ノ he’s a little tired but a freak anyway ノ ambiguous relationship . implied soft dom sub dynamic ノ petnames — darling . dearest . dove

The fingers that belong to the young family leader circle your nape, a feather-like touch despite his own wings taut along his locks, a silvery wave of silk falling on his shoulders. Although your new necklace is loose, pearls sitting lazily on your collarbones, it feels like a collar — a tight rope around your neck, squeezing hard every time you try to pull away from him and he brings you back with a stern tug of the invisible leash.

Sunday loves you, though, right? A lover that keeps you safe, forever excited about new gifts and everything he could do for you if only you had asked.

But you’re silent.

Obedient, the right word. That is true, he would enjoy seeing you break out of his rule, but he prefers you more so nice and quiet, always ready for his commands. He himself doesn’t know how would he react if you were to deny him. Would it spark a fury in him? A despair? Lust, even?

Doesn’t matter.

What matters now is that you’re smiling so dearly in the mirror, seeing yourself with a new jewellery, a shining set of pearls brought to you from Lushanka, the oceanic planet. An expensive proof of ownership, that is.

Gently pressing on his crotch, he knows that you crave only one thing right now — something he cannot give you, not when he’s so frustrated and pensive.

Next to you, there’s a broken shell of a man, eyes empty a worn-out dinner plate instead of a plate of gold. Constant meetings filling every system hour of his routine, nibbling at his humanity, piece by piece, devouring what’s left serene in him. But he always has time for you. You bring a sliver of solace into his day, the light in his life, and your soul is more important than any wealth, any political acquisition. He wants to be the perfect man for you — for now, at least when the family still allows him to have that tiny drop of freedom where he can do as he pleases, with whoever he wants to spend the time.

With the other hand, he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone, the reflection in the mirror immediately following his action, tilting your head to look at him. Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, a fine line of sweat rolling down your forehead as you take his form into your vision. You hold yourself still, making sure to not interrupt his moment of yearning. You feel pity, yes, but simultaneously, there is something dark seeping through your thoughts, whispering how you shouldn’t complain about the circumstances. Not whilst you’re being kept warm and pampered by one of the finest men in Penacony.

That’s correct. He’s not even yours, the richest young family leader, meant to be loved by many and to never have anyone truly on his side. People usually do admire him — for his wit, charisma, and some are very fortunate to be graced with his handsome face up close if They’re his personal retainers. But you? He wants something more from you. The unspoken desire woven into the thread that keeps the pearls in place around your neck.

“Aren’t you just my darling?” Sunday murmurs in a soothing manner as his eyes dart down your neck, brushing his fingers over the lustrous beads once again. “My gift looks divine on you. Are you feeling happy, my dearest?”

“The happiest I could ever be.”

He’s absolutely delighted to see how well you’ve grown used to being around him — his ever-changing moods that sometimes turn sour, and how much better you are than anyone else that isn’t family. But that is the problem.

Sunday’s hands tremble against your collarbones, pressing on them tight as if to brace you for something he has yet to tell you.

You want to reply, to let him know that you are delighted to be given such a precious gift. However, the collar wraps tighter around your throat, the fine edge digging into your skin. You can’t help but give out a whimper at the sudden tightness. It doesn’t take long for the young man to catch on the look of discomfort in your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as he releases the pressure on your neck. Instead, his fingers move further down, taking ahold of your nipple and giving it a slight pinch.

“I will take it that you love my gift. Very much,” he hums as he plays with your breasts, kneading them, and kissing along your jawline. His soft lips are so warm against your skin, it is almost relaxing until you feel something cold rubbing between your thighs.

Looking down, you can see his hand playing with the fabric of your panties, before his fingers find its way to the hidden clit, urging it to reveal itself with gentle strokes and caresses. In parallel, he begins to rub his crotch against your ass, wanting to give himself some form of relief until he’s done toying with your sensitive nub.

A tap. Catching you by surprise, his fingers patting flat against your flesh, parting the petals to deliver a proper spank to your pussy. In the sudden bloom of sensations, your body jolts forward, letting his hand dip further between your legs — making you open for another slap.

The salacious, squelching sounds have him clicking his tongue.

“Getting wet this urgently, yes? I’ve only just started touching you,” he whispers in your ear, the amusement apparent in his tone. “Are you perhaps a pervert, hm? Or did my sweet dove get so aroused just from looking at us in the mirror?”

Sunday slips a hand underneath the silk, gripping your inner thigh to stop you from closing your legs any further. While you aren’t really the type to get embarrassed by your own reactions, right now you can’t help but feel shame when you are met with his victorious smile as he values your beauty through the reflection.

“It’s alright, I love it when you get so worked up from the simplest things,” he chuckles before blowing a wisp of air into your earlobe. He doesn’t linger there for long and soon enough, he is peppering your neck with wet kisses, grazing your skin in a cordial manner.

It is known just how much you appreciate being spoiled with little affectionate gestures, melting with each and every token that the angelic lover grants you on every occasion.

Pulling his hand away from your core, he gives your panties one last pat, admiring how the damp fabric clings to your lips, illustrating your arousal.

“Did you know? Every pearl has a different kind of pattern and they are each unique,” he whispers before wrapping his fingers around your collar, his golden eyes staring into yours. “You’re the only one who will ever own a pair of pearls identical to these, my darling. Just like I own this one…” With that confession, his fingers pinch your clit through the silk, pulling it up to jab into your puffy cunt with the stretched underwear.

[kifkay]

silly headcanons about Winx characters’ home planets (part 1)

Linpheans rarely say, “I love you”. to them, it does not encapsulate the depth of their devotion properly.

instead, they use words that are much more… “poetic.”

for example, Bloom would casually thank Flora for helping her apply a salve to a burn of hers:

”thanks, Flo, love ya!”

and Flora would earnestly reply:

“My soul, I would part with my liver sooner than I would part with you.”

which… intense for us, Eartherns, but for Linpheans — love is not something to be treated casually.

among Linphean vernacular: “my soul”, referring to any one person you love; “my liver”, when referring to a friend you cannot live without; “my sun/moon/flower”; “my pillar”. also, when talking about a couple: “those, who were fated by the stars”.

(fun fact, all of these are real terms of endearment I took from my language <3)

she is very openly affectionate with her girls, but it takes her a bit of time to start acting similarly with the boys.

Helia and Timmy are decently well-travelled/well-learnt, so they know of this Linphean custom and are not surprised. Nabu absolutely returns the same energy to her.

Brandon just kinda takes it at face value (“you are my lifetime, friend” “👍”).

but Sky and Riven are absolutely bamboozled by how sweet Flora is, and try to awkwardly reciprocate.

like, Flora patches Riven up after a battle, and pats him on a back with:

“let the rivers of our lives cross together into an ocean forevermore, my golden friend.”

and Riven looks more scared than he ever was fighting goddamn Valtor, and whispers:

“you smell very nice?..”

Riven is obviously uncomfortable being as vulnerable and affectionate as she, so he resorts to using sweet nicknames (a-la “dove”, “love”, “sunshine”) and giving Flora compliments.

Sky is also unused to this level of affection, so whenever he is forced deal with it — he just malfunctions. literally dissociates. cannot reply for a solid twenty minutes.

He does think it’s very sweet though, so he starts taking care of Flora like a little sister. making sure she always has a little snack on a mission, giving her his jacket when it’s cold out, importing rare flowers for her, etc.

after a couple of years together, the winx and the specialists adopt this way of expressing endearment into their vernacular, and confuse the shit out of everybody else.

[icycoldninja]

Dating Sephiroth headcannons

-Sephiroth is the kind of person to ignore you completely at times, and at other times, scoop you into his arms and just hold you there without saying anything.

-He can be very cold and doesn't always tell you he loves you, but he does. Inside, he's the most devoted man on earth and will do absolutely anything for you, before and after his mental breakdown.

-Though he'll never say it outright, he loves you with all his heart; you are the dearest person in the world to him, the only woman he loves more is Jenova. If you asked him to kill for you, he most certainly would. You two but especially you are his goddesses.

-Takes the time to visit you multiple times a day, every day, even if nothing interesting happens. To him, nothing is more important than spending time with his beloved.

-Nicknames (which are rarely used) for you are: Princess, baby, darling, little dove, my love, and fluffpuff.

-Concerning the origin of "fluffpuff", it all began when he purchased a huge, extrmely fluffy baby chocobo onesie for you. Once you put it on, you might as well have been a walking blanket. It was so adorable, his heart melted and the nickname "fluffpuff" was born.

-Loves to do beauty days with you, especially after a long day at work. He's a big strong soldier man, but at the same time, a cute soft boy. He needs some pampering in his life, give it to him.

-Cuddling you is one of his favorite ways to de-stress. He loves to curl himself up around you and just sit there in silence, enjoying your company and relaxing. He also likes lying on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, while you play with his hair.

-Poor boy gets frequent night terrors and needs a lot of comforting kisses after waking up in a terrified, cold sweat. He does get a bit cold and bristly after such events, so do be gentle. Wrap him up in your arms, kiss his cheeks, forehead, lips, all over, just make him feel loved.

-Sephiroth's like a scared cat most of the time; you need to be gentle and coax him out of his shell. Then he'll start opening up to you and confide in you--some of his secrets can be very dark, but getting them off his chest is a huge help to his mental health.

-Speaking of mental health, as we know, he's not exactly in his right mind. He can be unstable and a little violent, though he would never hurt you. He'd throw things, he'd break things, he'd yell and scream, but he'd never actually hurt you--a sign of how much he loves you.

-If you can mange to calm him down during his tantrums, he'll love you all the more. You are the most precious thing to him; anything you do for him is viewed as a blessing. ❤️

[dmwrites]

One day, Joe Hills set out with a shovel in his hands. He slung it over one shoulder, whistling as he walked.

“Hey Joe, whatcha got there?” TangoTek asked, carrying blocks of ice.

“Oh, just a shovel.” Joe replied. “But it’s ice to see you, TangoTek.”

TangoTek laughed. Joe laughed. They both walked down the path in opposite directions.

It was a good day for a walk. The birds were singing and the sun was shining. But birds were not the only things singing! Joe walked over a hill to find BdoubleO singing loud and clear as he cut down a tree.

“Sir Joe! How wonderful to see you!” BdoubleO said, wiping away sweat on his face.

“Howdy, BdoubleO, why are you chopping down a tree?” Joe asked. He moved his shovel to his other shoulder so it would not hurt him.

“Why, I am using the wood to build a beautiful house!” BdoubleO said. He had big, twinkling eyes and an even bigger smile. “Why do you have a shovel, Joe?”

“I have a hole I need to dig.” Joe said. “And I must not be late for it. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye Joe!” BdoubleO said, waving.

The day was getting warm, and Joe Hills stopped by a river to get a drink of water. He saw his friend Cubfan at the river too!

“Howdy, Cubfan!” Joe called, waving.

“Hey Joe, whats up?” Cubfan asked. He was holding a raw cod fish and a fist full of glittery red redstone dust.

“I was just taking a break, I’ve been walking for a while today. What are you doing here, Cubfan?” Joe asked.

Cubfan looked all around at the grass and the trees, like he was looking for something in particular. Then he took out five diamonds and gave them to Joe!

“Nothing at all. Got it? If anyone asks, I was drinking from the river, same as you. Alright, man?”

Joe thought the diamonds were a very nice gift, and put them in his pocket. “Thanks, Cubfan! Indeed, I saw nothing!”

Cubfan smiled at Joe- he was always so fun to hang out with. Joe wondered why Cubfan looked like he was sweating.

“So what’s with the shovel, Joe?”

“I have an appointment. Very important stuff.” Joe said. “And I should probably get going before the sun sets! Goodbye, Cubfan! Enjoy your nothing!”

The day was beginning to turn into night. The sky was oranges and reds and pinks. Joe walked a little faster- he didn’t want to be late!

Then he came to a fork in the road, and Joe realized he didn’t know which way to go! He felt sad- was he not going to be able to get where he needed to be on time?

“Hi Joe!” Geminitay said, waving to him. She was walking down one of the paths towards him, carrying a basket full of bright flowers.

“Say, which way is the graveyard?” Joe asked. “I appear to be lost.”

“It’s that way, of course, right through the spooky forest!” Geminitay said, pointing down a dirt path. “But why do you want to go to the graveyard, Joe? It’s so scary there!”

“I have something urgent I must do.” Joe said, shifting the shovel over his shoulder.

Geminitay looked at the shovel, then and Joe, but didn’t ask any questions.

“Well, good luck. Watch out for big scary wolves!”

Joe hurried along the path in the spooky forest. The sun was about to fully set, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to get to the graveyard in time.

All of a sudden, a huge creature ran into his path. Joe was not scared, though, because it was his friend Rendog!

“Joeth of the Hills, my dude, how the heck are you?” Rendog said.

“I am good, Rendog, but I am afraid I can not stop to chat! I have urgent business to attend to.” Joe said.

“Me as well, good sir, as I saw a rabbit just beyond those bushes and must give chase. Goodbye!” Rendog said, and dove back into the forest.

The moon was beginning to rise as Joe Hills stepped into the cemetery. He creeped along the gravestones, careful not to make a peep. He could hear skeletons rattling in the distance, but he was brave. He stopped at a gravestone with a torch above it, and began to dig. He dug straight down, until his shovel scraped against a coffin. He pried it open, using all his strength.

“Hi Joe!”

“Howdy, Cleo. Did you have a nice nap?”

It was Joe’s best friend, ZombieCleo! She had been sleeping in the grave! Cleo yawned and stretched, bones moving strangely under dead and rotting skin.

“It was wonderful, exactly what I needed! Thanks for digging me up! Let’s get out of here and go get some pumpkin spice lattes!”

“How spooky!” Joe said, and he and Cleo held hands as they went to get a yummy treat together.

——

This is my attempt at a “children’s story”-esque fic, and was supposed to be completed for Halloween. Better late then never lolll

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

KINKTOBER (reuploaded)

i <3 giving head (Matt)

Request: I need a Matt one where he overstimulates the reader with his tongue he can be dominant or submissive or wtv but he just doesn’t wanna stop giving the reader head/can you do one where matt wakes up horny and wakes y/n up by eating her out, and then it just goes on from there(I <3 giving head)

Warnings: fingering, oral(fem), face sitting, that’s basically it

A/N: this is kind of a head cannon and pretty short

A/N2: so sorry this is 2 days late, i was on a cruise and had no service!!

3rd Person pov

Matt loves giving his girlfriend head. It doesn’t matter where they are, whether he was feeling dominant or submissive, or anything else for that matter. He’s going to find a way to give her head, even if that means leaving an important event just so he could eat her out in the van. It was such a major turn-on for him that he didn’t even give a shit about getting himself off. Matt felt as if his sole purpose in life was to eat his girl out, having her cum on his face and fingers.

He loved the way her thick thighs wrapped around his head and squeezed, especially when she sat on his face. That’s an entire turn-on in itself, she used to be nervous about hurting him and still is cautious not to put her full weight down on him, but when Matt forces her down onto his face it’s like heaven. Y/n wasn’t complaining either, she absolutely loved the attention and praises he gives her. She always tries to get Matt off after but he almost never allows it if they’re out, claiming that letting him eat her out was enough until they got home, where he would fuck her properly.

Sometimes, Y/n would even wake up with Matt between her legs, already eating her out. And on the days where it wasn’t possible for him to do his favorite activity, due to her period, Matt would spoil Y/n. The day would be full of cuddles and whatever she needed from him, cuddling was usually enough though. They’re both so desperately in love with each other and that was just Matt’s way of saying ‘I appreciate you’ while also satisfying himself. He just loved the way she tastes and how easy it is for him to make her feel amazing.

•••

Matt needed to apologize, so today was one of those days where he woke Y/n up by eating her out. They had a little disagreement last night and instead of staying over at his house like planned, she went home. Matt had felt bad the whole night once he realized he was the one in the wrong and wanted to make it up to her. He woke up extra early to go get waffles and french toast from her favorite diner before heading to her apartment. Obviously he had a key, so he quietly let himself into her home with all his goodies.

Matt even went the extra mile to buy her a bouquet of her favorite flowers and a stuffed animal as an ‘I’m sorry’ present. Looking at the time, he noticed it was only 6:53am and there was no way Y/n would be up yet. Opting to put the food in her fridge to heat up later, Matt made his way upstairs to Y/n’s bedroom, sneakily crawling into bed next to her. He slowly pulling the covers down, not wanting to wake the sleepy girl, before gently rolling her onto her back.

This was something Matt had mastered at this point and he was very happy to see Y/n only slept in panties and one of his shirts. The elder boy started getting to work after pulling off her panties and settling himself between her legs. He groaned at the sight of his girlfriends, already slightly wet, cunt and dove straight in. Matt started off by kitty licking through her folds before sucking on his fingers to get them nice and wet so he could start fingering her.

Once he deemed his fingers wet enough, he slowly pushed one finger in, rubbing across her velvety walls. Y/n wasn’t yet phased by this action so he immediately added a second finger. Matt’s fingers were moving at a fast pace as his lips enclosed around her clit. His other hand was beneath the youngers shirt, toying with both of her nipples. He wanted Y/n to wake up so badly, wanting her to pull his hair and be begging to cum.

He was still pleased with the small moans and whines coming from her lips but he wanted more. Matt decided to move his face away from Y/n’s clit and start kissing her neck instead, still pumping his fingers into her. Y/n let out a long whine as she slowly woke up, letting out a loud moan just a few seconds later as Matt added a third finger. “Maaaattt, what are you doing?” she whined out as he started sucking light hickies into her skin.

“Shhh, just let it happen honey.” he told her as she fully woke up. “Don’t leave any marks, love!” the younger girl loudly whined, trying to wriggle away from the kisses, but Matt ignored her, saying, “Mine!” and continued kissing her neck. Matt then went back down to eat her out again, keeping his three fingers in her while sucking on her clit. “M-Matt faster please!” Y/n begged.

Matt switched his mouth and fingers, now sucking on her core and rubbing her clit in fast, tight circles. He was so turned on right now that he could cum in his pants just from her moans. “Oh Matt! I love having your slutty mouth on my pussy!” the girl cried, watching her boyfriends blue eyes lazily look up at her. Matt started to messily eat her out, squeezing and grabbing onto different parts of her body with his free hand.

This had the younger girl so close already, so when Matt pinched one of Y/n’s nipples, it sent her falling over the edge. “Matt I’m gonna- Oh fuck!” is all she gave as a warning before cumming all over his face. Matt wasn’t done yet though, as he continued eating her out at the same pace, quickly overstimulating his girlfriend. Almost immediately, Y/n was cumming again, squirming away from Matt as he kept moaning and sucking on her pussy.

“Good morning sexy mama.” Matt smirked as Y/n caught her breath. Matt wore a cocky grin, feeling his face wet with his girls cum, he loved making her cum. “I- Woah, okay— Good morning!” she joked back breathlessly. “I’m sorry for our fight, I hope this makes up for it” Matt said with a pout .

•••

Another thing Matt does, is get hyper-focused on making Y/n cum by head and will just continue eating her out until she’s screaming the safe word. On the day this happened, it was like a dream come true, the day had just overall been great. The pairs day, mostly consisted of lots of cuddling, soft makeouts, and just overall complimenting each other…

Matt’s pov

Today was great, I woke up this morning and went straight to my girlfriends apartment for breakfast. We made and ate breakfast together, which was fun, and now we were cuddled up on the couch. Y/n was sitting sideways across my lap while I watched some random show, keeping a tight arm wrapped around her waist. Y/n moved her head a bit and started placing little kisses on my neck, making me smile.

“What are you doing?” I softly giggled as I brought my free hand down to rub her thigh. She continued leaving kisses on my neck though, but now they were slower and had become more sloppy. Y/n kissed her way to my ear, “I’m giving my boyfriend some well deserved attention.” she giggled back as I had her readjust so she was now straddling me.

Y/n pulled back to look at me, her nails now running across the back of my neck, “Well he likes the attention so don’t stop.” I smirked. I was admiring my girls cleavage when her index finger and thumb moved my face up to look at her. We held eye contact for a moment as her thumb ran across my bottom lip, making my dick twitch beneath her.

“Do you think I deserve attention?” Y/n/n pouted, looking down at me with those big e/y/c eyes. I was starting to get hard from all the tension as I stared up at her, stupidly. “Yeah, I think so…” I replied quietly, mesmerized by my girlfriend. “Yeah, you think so? Are you gonna be a good boy and give me that attention?” she asked seductively.

3rd Person pov

Matt knew he was fucked the second he looked into her eyes, he immediately began to give up control. “Y-You can use my mouth.” he quietly stated, Y/n got off the couch and pulled him up with her. “Yeah? Can I ride that pretty, little face of yours?” she asked, resulting in Matt literally begging her to do so.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her in the bedroom where he quickly took off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants/belt, keeping them pulled up still. Y/n watched her boyfriend walk over to her while she laughed and took off her pants. “Naked, now!” Matt groaned, not pleased with how seemingly slow Y/n was getting undressed.

Once Y/n was naked, the two got into position, Matt was flat on his back while Y/n sat on his lap “Matt, baby, c’mon get comfortable, you’re gonna eat me out all night like a good boy.” the younger told him. That’s exactly what Matt did too, not stopping until Y/n said they were done. She instantaneously climbed over his face while he laid down. She was going to tease him with her words some more, but Matt was over it.

He pulled her down onto his awaiting face, forcefully holding down the girls thighs. She loved when Matt was whiny and impatient, because it always felt so good when he would rush into something, just to start pleasing her. Just like many nights before, Matt was sucking on her clit, flicking it with his tongue in the process.

Grabbing onto the bed frame for stability, Y/n gasped, not expecting that. “God!— Fuck Matty! You’re such a needy whore!” the girl whined as he started sliding his hands across her perfect body. Now that Y/n could control her own movements, she decided to tease the older boy again.

She sat straight up and started touching her own tits, groping them. She was also pinching her nipples and rubbing them, knowing it makes her extremely wet. “Look at you babe, you look so pathetic underneath me!” she teased Matt, causing the sub to whine as he replaced her hands with his, twisting her nipples.

Not being able to speak, Matt just let out whines and moans against her pussy from the dirty talk. “Damn Matt! You’ve got me so close already!” Y/n grunted, causing Matt to whimper. He moved one hand to her ass and one to her pussy so he could finger her, immediately slamming three fingers into her.

This is what sent Y/n over the edge, his rapid movements never halted. Matt lightly bit her clit before Y/n started screaming out his name. “Fuck! Fuck— Matt! Oh Matt, I’m gonna cum on your face! Feels so good— I’m cumming!” Y/n basically yelled. In response, Matt just started humming against her core. She came down from her first high, only to continue having Matt eat her out all night.

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[endless-ineffabilities]

rogue ink

Daemon Targaryen x f!reader

word count: 3.4k ▪︎ masterlist

themes/warnings: fluff, language, very brief mention of smut

The reader is devastated at the loss of her precious journal, worried that it might fall into the wrong hands. And who better else to discover it, but the Rogue Prince himself?

It was a small thing.

A small, leather-bound journal. Filled with accounts of your days and nights, your deepest thoughts, your pains. An unassuming object, sort of tattered from use.

And it had been missing for three days. The gods were not good.

You searched everywhere. Every corner of your chambers, in all the pouches you had especially sewn onto your dresses, practically every inch of the Red Keep which you have called home ever since your family was invited to King Viserys' court.

And yet it was nowhere to be found.

It was immediately noticeable to your inner circle that something was amiss, but you just shrugged it off. One person you did confide in, however, was Princess Rhaenyra herself. The two of you quickly grew close after her former companion, Alicent, was sent off to wed some wealthy, Southern lord.

"So what if it has gone missing? Perhaps you have simply misplaced it? Anyway, we could easily get you a new one, y/n."

Your head swiftly turned in her direction, "I appreciate your tone of confidence, Rhaenyra - "

She nodded, making a playful show of curtsying.

" - but... I've scrolled down personal matters in those pages. Especially when it concerns..."

She paused in her step. Hands clasped behind her, she leaned forward, "Ah. I see."

When it concerns Daemon. But it need not be said aloud.

Rhaenyra has been privy to some of your musings about her beloved uncle. Only the ones that you would ever let befall on another person's ears, that is. Some of it... well... would be more than enough to make any maiden blush.

"How could I forget?" Rhaenyra smiled, "You fancy Daemon." Then her face turns sly, "He fancies you too, you know. But of course, I know why you would be reluctant to engage with all of... that."

Your hand reaches up in an attempt to hide your face from shame, "Gods, what would happen if anyone at court were to find it? It would only be so easy to determine that the thing is my possession. I've written my father's and mother's names on it, and yours, and Daemon's..."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Rhaenyra wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you steady, "This court of sycophants never runs out of fodder for their dull conversations. Your journal might be spoken of for a day or two, then they shall move on to something of lesser import."

You sighed deeply, a mask of calm appearing on your visage, though Rhaenyra knew better.

It will be alright. Another half-truth. This loss will soon be a trifling thing.

If only...

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Daemon Targaryen has been having quite the interesting time as of late.

The pages of your small, tattered journal feel light on his fingertips, but he might be inclined to say that the mere feel of the parchment is exhilarating.

These thoughts were yours. These secrets, these desires were yours.

Truthfully, he has not been completely shy about his admiration for you. His precious dove. His sweetling. You thought nothing of it, knowing full well how he is. The Rogue Prince has been known to possess countless paramours.

And you are damned if you would allow yourself to be one of his mere passing fancies. To be bedded one night and forgotten the next.

He once thought that his admiration is not well-received, until one morning, when he watched as an object fell out of your dress as you sprinted down the hallway, headed to only the gods knew where. You bumped into several ladies of the court, mumbling rushed apologies, only to be met with irate stares, but you went on without any mind to them.

Daemon failed to hide the smile that sprung from his lips. He quietly shifted to the spot where you dropped something, and that's when he saw it. Your journal.

It could only be yours. Who else would scroll down that thinly veiled warning on the first page, dedicated to any stranger who might deign to read it?

Daemon, of course, believed himself immune to such threats and he hurriedly found a secluded place to sit down and immerse himself in the woman who has managed to take sanctum in his mind.

And his heart, but the notorious prince would still be loath to admit that.

A few pages in, with amusement dancing his eyes, his chest felt warm at the image of you inking these thoughts onto the parchment.

Then came – “Once more, if you might be a nosy intruder, turn away now, or the very worst fortunes shall fall upon you. I swear this on both the old gods and the new.”

Perhaps I should stop. After all, she just might impale me with mine own Dark Sister if she found this in my possession. Daemon’s hand hesitated as he was about to turn the next page.

He had half a mind to close your journal, partially resolved at returning it to your chambers without you even having to notice its loss, but his eyes were quickly drawn to the following words…

“I finally saw Prince Daemon Targaryen this morning.”

How could Daemon stop his perusing at that moment? He read on with renewed interest, yearning to know more of what you think about him.

“By the gods, he is as beautiful as he is infuriating. I was made to be the cupbearer in today’s small council meeting, and the Rogue Prince strolled in, well in the middle of the discussion, without any mind as to the disturbance that his late arrival caused, if any. Not a care in the seven kingdoms. He paid absolutely no mind to me, standing there in the corner.

But I saw him.”

Daemon found himself rolling his eyes. Of course, he would give off the worst impression upon the first moment she glanced at him. But then again…

She thinks me beautiful. Vanity had allowed him to glaze over the part where you call him “infuriating”.

I suppose I shall have further use for your precious book, my sweetling.

And so the next few days were spent raking your journal for passages about him. Daemon knows full well that doing so can be deemed a violation of your privacy, but if he can use this to get closer to you, then this is something that simply must be allowed.

In his eyes, it may even be necessary. He needs this. Wants it, even. He wants to get under your skin, and these pages all but symbolize that very thing.

After all, Daemon swore that he shall only read the parts wherein he is concerned, and that is well within his right, is it not?

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“Daemon is indeed something to behold. Yes, my opinion still stands.

However, I am not certain what to make of him. Is he to be trusted? No. Bloody well not. Is he kind? That is not really a word anyone would use to define him.

But… there is something… something in his eyes. Daemon is much more than the rogue scoundrel that his moniker deems him to be. He is more than just ‘dangerous’ or ‘unpredictable’ or a potential ‘second Maegor’ (Truthfully, I find it hard to believe that last thing). Daemon is… more than that.

I just can’t find the words to encapsulate him. Perhaps words never can.”

The days pass quickly, and Daemon finds himself opening your journal now and again.

He cannot help it. The more he reads, the more he learns of you. But that is not the only reason. He is also discovering himself, as it turns out - an image of himself that he has not entertained before.

Not only The Rogue Prince, but a person of greater value than his notorious misdeeds. He believes that you see something in him that not even he can see himself.

Something more. Something… good.

Though his intentions prove to be not entirely innocent, as is the usual case. He comes upon one specific part, with your penmanship turning into a nervous scribble. It is as if you were wary that someone might be looking over your shoulder and deign to discover what salacious scrawls you have put down about the Rogue Prince.

Daemon’s eyes hurriedly glide over the ink, basking in what he reads.

“I must confess something.

I know it is quite unbecoming of a lady. Of a maiden. But in the last hour of the owl, I…

I…

Oh, gods. I pleasured myself to the thought of him.

You know. It can only be him. Daemon.”

“Seven fucking save me.” Daemon finds himself cursing with delight at what he just read. So his sweetling does want him in return. Oh, you cannot even imagine what I will do to you…

“We have grown quite close, him and I. Daemon is… Daemon is aflame. There can be no better word for him. He is fire incarnate, and I am not afraid of getting burned.

Or… I don’t want to be. I just. Want. Him.

I want to feel him. I want to feel his lips on mine. Not long ago, he leaned in close and his musk enveloped me. His lips very nearly grazed my cheek. Silly me could not come up with a witty response then and there. A shame. But can you blame me? All I could think about was snogging the fucking Rogue Prince himself!

Ha! Gods!

Perhaps I have gone insane.”

Daemon chuckles freely, alone in his chambers, your journal firmly between both hands. Any clueless onlooker would think it strange, as the Rogue Prince does not make a habit of exhibiting such behaviour. The pleasure in the tone of his laughter rings true and genuine.

If it becomes known that the reason for this is the Lady Y/n, then only a fool would dare deny the centre of their prince’s affections.

“But I cannot deny it.

I cannot have him. I shall not… he is… he does not seem willing to devote himself to just one lady. One wife. There is never a lack of gossip about the prince’s exploits in the Street of Silk, and a hundred other brothels besides.

His need cannot be sated it seems. I… surely, I will not be enough to sate it.

And I won’t allow myself to be one among many paramours.

If I am to love, I have to be chosen as the only one.

However…

Mother spare me.

However… I find myself imagining Daemon’s hands roaming freely across the planes of my skin, fondling my chest, his fingers drifting downward until they are buried in the heat of my soaked cunt.

When the castle is asleep, I find myself writhing in my sheets, thinking about the prince’s massive co – “

A knock echoes across the chambers. Daemon’s head shoots up immediately, irritation blooming across his face, but his cheeks remain flushed from what he just read.

Who the fuck is this?

His squire enters, a gangly young lad of six and ten. He bows hurriedly, and with a shaky voice, he implores, “My prince, you are being summoned by His Grace King Viserys to the small council meeting.”

Has that blasted formality come round again so soon? Daemon shrugs, turning back to the pages. Though he can hardly focus with the snivelling interruption still present in the room, who risks arousing his master’s anger when he speaks once more, “Forgive me, my prince, but I have been instructed to report with - ”

“Will you remove yourself from my sight willingly, or shall I do it for you?”

“M-my prince… I…” The squire nearly stumbles backwards at Daemon’s wroth.

“Leave. The small council will have the privilege of my presence in due course.”

And so, Daemon is again left alone, his squire’s rapid footsteps practically bolting out the doors.

Smirking, he greets your journal like an old friend. “Now, where was I?”

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Your newly gifted journal boasts of a far more opulent appearance than its predecessor. Rhaenyra made sure that the Maesters bound only the finest parchment and leather for this very thing; the cover even has gold and red embossments, as well as inscriptions in High Valyrian.

You were reluctant to accept such a gift, but Rhaenyra was persistent. And everyone knows, there is no refusing the Realm’s Delight when she has her heart set on something.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to know of the whereabouts of your journal… well, your old journal now.

Nestled in your usual spot in the gardens, you turn your new journal over in your hands, admiring the handiwork of the Maesters.

The rear possesses the inscription - Isse otāpagon hen ñuha ojūdan udra, se isse ōños hen skoros pirtra hembar… - which Rhaenyra explained as roughly translating to - In remembrance of my rogue ink, and in joyous anticipation of what lies ahead…

You did not fail to notice the deliberate placement of the word rogue, which can only be Rhaenyra’s doing. Clever.

Rogue ink. Rogue Prince. Am I to call myself Lady Rogue now?

“My Lady.” His voice calls out, nearly startling the journal out of your hands. Oh fuck.

“Prince Daemon,” you swivel around to his voice, and sure enough, he leans against one of the tall hedges, studying you. Not a care in the seven kingdoms, as always.

“Good morrow, sweetling.” He saunters over, permanent smirk on his lips. “That is a lovely thing you have got there,” he says, gesturing to the new journal in your lap.

“Why yes, it is.” You lay it down beside you, and he promptly picks it up without even asking for your leave.

“Isse otāpagon hen ñuha ojūdan udra…” He reads, the High Valyrian sounding musical on his tongue. Far better than how you attempted to voice out the same words.

“Hmm.” He hands it over, and sits right next to you, stretching his long legs in front of him.

“Rogue ink.” He mumbles thoughtfully, glancing at you.

“It was Rhaenyra’s idea.” You say, your throat suddenly feeling dry, your heart racing from his proximity.

“Ah, yes. I was very sorry to hear of how you lost your journal. Rhaenyra said you were quite devastated.” Daemon lies plainly. His beloved niece never shared this with him, for she knows you would not approve.

“She did?”

“I do recall, yes.”

“Oh.”  You clear your throat, choosing to let it pass. “Well, she was awfully kind in giving me this as a replacement. I could not thank her enough.”

Daemon smiles, casting his gaze downward, as if he is privy to a secret that is kept from you. Does the handsome bastard know something?

“It is a shame that I could not find it,” you sigh, “I am still perturbed by the thought of someone whose intentions are unsavoury, reading all that I have written.”

“Whatever would you do to them, were you to find out their identity, my sweetling?”

You shake your head slightly at the name he has given you. Anything to distract from the warmth spreading across your face. You lean in closer, suddenly, much to Daemon’s surprise, “Would you let me wield Dark Sister, so I might teach them a lesson?”

Daemon swallows, the sight of your darkened, mischievous expression spurring him on.

“I might,” he leans in, “but I am far too fond of myself to allow something like that to transpire. Besides,” his fingers languidly trace your jawline, “I have read that you are far too fond of me to do such a thing.”

Your stomach falls, the sensation so sudden that you simply freeze in place, with Daemon’s warm breath still fanning your face.

“You…”

Your face scrunches in a mixture of what can only be shock and anger and embarrassment. Daemon only finds it endearing. Adorable.

He starts, “Now, sweetling, try not to be cross - ”

You do not let him finish. You punch him in the shoulder, hard, making him lean away. Your legs seem to have a mind of their own, because you find yourself pacing quickly.

Gods, I just assaulted a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. More pacing. Who cares? It’s Daemon, and he deserves it.

The sound of his laughter echoes in the gardens, grating in your ears.

He stands, pulling something out of the pocket of his trousers, and presenting it to you. Your little, rogue journal.

Wrenching it from him, you can only ask, “You stole it from me?”

He looks appalled, “No, I would not do that. I found it. It might occur to you to thank me. Who knows what could have happened if anyone else besides me discovered your precious journal when you dropped it in a haste.”

“Thank you?” You stare him down, your left hand squeezing your journal firmly, threatening to destroy its very structure. “Why did it take so long for you to return it to me? Did you… did you…”

“Read it?” His eyes rake your face, over and over, enamoured by the passion he sees.

You say nothing. Of course he has.

“You must forgive my curiosity, sweetling. I could not help myself, plainly, to have some glimpse into your mind, into your heart… I simply… I had to.”

You soften a little at that. “Did you read everything?”

Daemon steps forward, overwhelming your space once more, “Not everything. Not quite.”

He gently pries the journal from your fist tucked beside you, and you watch as he flits through the pages as if it were his own. He whispers, “Only what you wrote about me.”

“Gods.” You desperately look toward the sky for some respite, not finding any.

He lands on the page he was searching for, a smile spreading across his face. “I am flattered, my lady, about how you envisioned us in what can only be… very compromising positions.”

“Enough, Daemon, please…” you bite your lip, as his hands drift across your stomach, settling low on your hips, pulling you flush against him.

The journal has been discarded by your feet, and Daemon only has eyes for you. His voice is genuine when he says, “You have written about me as if I were… someone else. Someone more.”

Your eyes catch how his tongue flicks across his lips. You start to give in, and say, “Daemon, I write only what I see.”

His lips are curled in their familiar roguish way, when he drifts even closer, tilting your face up at him with one hand.

“Daemon…”

“Sweetling… let me give you something to write about.”

In true Daemon fashion, he does not reign himself in. 

His lips land on yours. The impact catches you by surprise, making you take a few steps back, and he promptly follows suit. Your bodies move in sync, until your back collides into one of the marble plinths.

His tongue pries your mouth open wide, snaking past your teeth in a frenzy. Without breaking the kiss, he takes your hands, and guides them to the back of his neck, so that you might hold him in turn. You do, burying your fingers in his silver tresses.

Your lips battle each other, and Daemon tilts your head back so that he might advance more. A low growl escapes his chest as his teeth carefully clamp down on your bottom lip, pulling at the flesh.

He pulls away, pleased at how swollen your lips have become due to his work, “If I were inclined to write as you do, the words would doubtlessly be a tribute to you, sweetling.”

You did not expect that.

Still reeling from the taste of his mouth, you finally smile, though wryly, “You could only be telling me what I wish to hear. Soften my anger at how you invaded my most intimate musings.”

He nods once, one hand reaching up to lean on the plinth above your head. His violet eyes bore into yours, burning with unmistakable desire.

“I could indeed.” He kisses you again, his lips briefly pressing against your own, with a gentleness that is quite unusual for the Rogue Prince. “But mayhaps I shall prove to be quite convincing.”

You take a deep breath, peering up at him in a haze. Your shaky nerves finally settle, and you drink him in. Your rogue muse. The object of your affection, as he now knows. “Prove it then. My new journal is in need of fresh accountings. What better thing to write about than the taste of your lips…”

Another kiss, and another.

“I am yours, sweetling.”

Been a while, loves! Hectic stuff + writing ruts can tend to cause such breaks, but I'm glad to be back and writing again ❤️

Yes, it seems that I sometimes take weeks (even months) to update series works. But then I'll get oneshot ideas, and they get done within a day (like this one). I can't explain it either 🙃

But anyway - series updates up... soon enough!

[lurkingshan]

I loved this episode, and I am so glad this show stayed true to its themes (the only reason I was worried at all is because this is a GMMTV show, so I can never be 100% sure they won't prioritize ships over story). I have been saying for weeks that the way they were writing the Ba Mhee/Tae/Judy plot line did not make sense if they were trying to put Ba Mhee and Judy in a romance at the end, and that Ba Mhee's confusion about her feelings for Judy was instead meant to highlight the themes of the show and give Ba Mhee the chance to grow and develop a more mature outlook on romantic relationships. And today's episode did exactly that.

I found the initial Ba Mhee/Tae breakup conversation unsatisfying, and I am gratified to learn that was intentional on the show's part. I was honestly agnostic on whether these two should get back together (my aro ass would have loved Ba Mhee deciding to be single for awhile), but the thing that felt most missing for me was any real reflection from Ba Mhee on her own part in their relationship troubles. And that's exactly what we got today, as Ba Mhee got a taste of the type of overbearing attention she used to give Tae and realized it made her uncomfortable, and that while she is attracted to Judy, she doesn't actually want a relationship with her. She thought what she wanted from Tae was romantic gestures and constant attention, but through trying things out with Judy she realized that all she really needed was honest communication and quality time with him.

Crucially, Ba Mhee still reasserted in this episode that she thinks she may be bisexual; it was so important that they didn't erase that queer awakening for her. But her heart is with Tae right now--as the show has been demonstrating all along--so of course she wants to try again with her new understanding of her actual needs and where she may have misstepped in the past. I don't know that they'll stay together long-term after this, and I could easily see a future where Ba Mhee decides to be independent for awhile or date others, including women, but it felt honest that she is not done with this relationship yet. And for Tae's part, I was so glad he decided to try reaching out again and that he got to tell Ba Mhee he never forgot their anniversary and he does care. He didn't deserve to be cheated on, but his capacity to see his own shortcomings, forgive Ba Mhee, and try to communicate better was sincere. This has never been a narrative about a bad relationship that Ba Mhee was escaping from, but rather about a good relationship that was experiencing growing pains as they grew up together and developed different priorities. It was very well done.

Meanwhile, Ryan and Jane continue the very slow development of their relationship in parallel, solidifying the contrast in how these two intern/mentor relationship plots were constructed. Unlike Judy, who dove in with no apparent qualms with her intern (I would still like to understand what she was thinking, show! Perhaps she could talk to her high school buddy Jane about it), Jane continues to take his time. He and Ryan have acknowledged their feelings for each other, but they're still not acting on them beyond some additional flirting. Even though love is clearly making them a bit dumb (the printer, Jane, really??), they have not actually started dating or advanced beyond a hug in their physical affection, because Ryan is still Jane's intern. The preview confirms that the internship will be wrapping up soon, and I expect that Jane is waiting to see what will happen with Ryan's role in the company and what that means for their relationship. I am enjoying all their small moments while we wait.

[adorabluesposts]

Hi!!

I loved your Lucifer x death story and I was wondering if you’d write a Lucifer x Reader but they are Alastors daughter who he kept sheltered? Like they are innocent and such but they were hellborn so they can’t leave. I feel like Lucifer would definitely pine over somebody so maybe him trying to get her to realize he likes her while Alastor keeps him away?

Tysm for being my first request<3 love this idea!!

This is realllyyyy long because I had to give in a lot of context before getting to the point. Might turn this into a series just because this is too fricking long 😭

Lucifer X Alastor's daughter.

"You dare to touch my daughter?"

For the longest time, you were locked away.

Locked away by Alastor, a man who raised you with a certain paranoia, keeping a happy mask on as he taught you manners in his Radio Tower, never letting you leave.

Alastor had raised you in seclusion, shielding you from the brutality of Hell’s politics and power struggles. You knew nothing of the outside world, your knowledge confined to the ancient tomes in the tower's private library. You pretty much devoured tales of angels and demons, of forbidden love and cosmic battles. But your favorite stories were those of your father—the radio demon who had once terrorized the living world, because it amazed you; Your father was never like that with you.

Even aunt Rosie would often tell of shenanigans Alastor did, which surprised you at first. You were truly in denial, of how your father could do such things. You got used to it, even coming at peace with knowing you'll probably never be like him.

There wasn't much interaction that you did- only talking to your father and his shadows, Rosie (who was very much your favourite person in the world) and some of the Overlord's, every now and then.

It was mostly you, all alone in the tower. All alone. Lonely. Bored. All alone. Bored. For decades. Eons. You lost count, seriously.

--

"Dad." You munched down your pancake, Alastor looking up from the mirror hung on the wall , even though he was supposed to fix his tie. "We need to talk."

"Could this wait, deer?" He replied, turning back to the mirror. "I'm late to my job."

Ah, yes, his job. The job you never asked about, because every time you wanted to, he'd shoot you a glare.

"No, I can't wait." You said, getting up from your seat and walking over to him, fixing his tie. "Dad, this is important. My birthday's soon.. and I'm positive I'm old enough to go outside. I've read so much about Hell that I know enough about it. I've even made a slideshow if you don't believe me!"

Alastor looked at you with an angrier expression. "My deer, we talked about this-"

"You can't keep me here anymore. You're not keeping me safe, you're ruining me."

Alastor sighed deeply.

"it's not fair, dad."

"it really isn't." He agreed.

Reluctantly, and with a lot of talking, you got him to agree. As long as you stayed by his side for a while, you'd be able to go out. You needed to sign a contract, though (father's orders), to swear that you'd try to stay safe.

"But how will I stay by your side if I can't accompany you to work? What is your job, anyway? Considering you're not working for the radio anymore." You asked, and he stayed silent for a few minutes. It was clear this was a big step, and he wasn't so happy about letting his little dove grow up.

"I work at a hotel." He sighed. "Do your research, darling. I'll tell my coworkers you'll be paying a visit."

"paying a visit? Does that mean I get to go there alone?" You eagerly asked.

"Oh, nonononono, I'm picking you up."

--

"You've got a WHAT?" The energetic voice of the blonde asked, jumping up and down.

"who knew smiles had it in him-" Angel earned a 'be quiet' glare.

"They'll be visiting today.. just don't get weird." Alastor's static buzzed lpudly. "I've been keeping them safe for as long as they lived. Their poor mind doesn't know how this all works."

"so they're a good person?" Vaggie asked, accompanied by Charlie's: "Does that mean we can get them redeemed?"

"Hahaha!" Alastor laughed. "They're a hellborn. And never in my mind mind would I let them leave my side and go to Heaven, even if they weren't."

"Did you know about this?" Husk's clearly too-sober voice asked Nifty, to which the girl just shook her head.

--

You nervously fidgeted with your hands as you awaited your dad's arrival. You were dressed nicely, wanting to make a good impression. What if your dad's friends were mean? Cruel? Evil? What if they didn't like you?

~

"Some of them are a bit odd." Alastor buzzed, his hand on the doorknob of the hotel. "You'll get used to it, deer."

You breathed in and out, calming your nerves as you walked in. "Woah, this place's not so b-"

"Hii, I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" A girl eagerly ran up to you, shaking your hand with excitement. "I was soo excited to meet you! You need to see the others! I need to make a tour!"

You were pretty confused and feeling many feelings about the first interaction, but thought Charlie would be a fun person to befriend anyway.

"Hi, I'm Vaggie." A girl next to her said, softly taking Charlie's hand from yours, which you silently thanked her for. "I'm Charlie's girlfriend."

You smiled. "Nice to meet you both."

"That's Husk, he owns the bar." Vaggie said with a calm voice, pointing to the creature who grunted at you.

"that's Nifty, she cleans." Vaggie continued, her girlfriend jumping up and down in excitement next to her.

"And that's Angel Dust, our first resident. Sir Pentious was our second resident." Vaggie said, her voice followed by the 'Heya toots' the spider said.

--

"Will you be staying? We'd love to have you. You're so nice I love you already!" Charlie said, after a successful tour. You lost your dad long ago, seeming as if he's gone to do his own business (you pretended to ignore how his shadow replaced yours in the meantime).

"It wouldn't be too bad." You said. "I could get a bit of a break from my dad for once."

"Uhh, speaking of dads." Angel poked his head in the room. "Charlie, your dad's at the door."

Charlie nervously looked at Angel. "Oh, that's great.. what does he want?"

"He said he wanted to revisit without Alastor, since word is he's out of town."

"my dad's out of town? Great!" You silently mumbled.

"Oh, well, I guess it's time you meet my dad, aha." Charlie told you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Who is your dad?"

A short figure walked into the room, eagerly hugging Charlie. He looked so much like her, ignoring the height difference.

"Oh my." You whispered, recognising the face from the books. "Your dad's-"

"Oh, hello." The man smiled at you, looking you up and down, "I'm Lucifer, The-"

"King of Hell, yeah, I know. Oh my Satan."

An awkward pause followed. Silence. More silence. Him looking you up and then down again, making you fix your posture.

"Well, ha! Dad, why don't I show you some new things we added to the living room?" Charlie practically dragged Lucifer out.

--

Your mind instantly lingered on the king for the next few days. It was no surprise why he was the most beautiful man in the world, truly gorge- snap out of it.

"Deer, I've been talking to you!" Alastor set his cup down. "Why aren't you listening?"

"Oh, sorry. I was zoned out." You excused, and his static buzzed louder.

"Strange. You're never like this." He sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let you out."

His serene smile practically stared at you.

"No, dad, I mean-" You laughed nervously. "I just really miss the hotel, dad. It's really nice."

Excuses. More and more excuses every time you zoned out. Every day. And then he'd take you with him to the hotel, and you'd silently pray that Lucifer would be there. He never was.

--

"A party?" You questioned Charlie. Apparently, the princess wanted to throw a party to spread awareness and information about the Hazbin Hotel- people would come and have fun, Charlie and the crew would explain the deed, and we'd get more visitors.

If you ask me, Charlie's got the IQ.

"And you think I should come?" She nodded as an answer.

Your dad stood next to you, a protective aura lingering over his body. "I think it's a lovely idea, Charlie!" His static buzzed.

You looked at him, eyes widened. "You do?"

"we'll surely attend, Y/N." He smiled. "Would be good for you."

You shuddered. This was so unlike him.

"I don't have what to-"

"I'll help with that!"

"I don't know how to dance, either. And I'm socially awkward-"

"You'll be fine, come on!"

--

You looked at your clothes nervously. You looked good, better than ever, but what would others think? According to Charlie, a bunch of royalty would come (including Lucifer, the Ars Goetia.. Lucifer!!)

And all you could whisper out was fuck, because you were so nervous.

Charlie knocked at your door (technically her door, as you got ready in her room- the party started hours ago. It was the anxiety that made you stay), and practically begged for you to finally go.

You and her linked arms, to which you entered the main lounge area, where you saw people. So many people. And your anxiety rose.

You gave your best smile as she introduced you to a few people, such as Stolas of Ars Goetia (who you thought was very polite and nice, even through his sad smile), and a few of the Sins. Beelzebub was someone else you met, who instantly brought a grin and laugh to your face.

It was all gone when you caught Lucifer's gaze, and you both walked towards eachother. It was the second interaction you two would have- a chance to make a better impression.

"Oh, wow, you look dashing tonight." He said as he bowed to you.

That's right, he bowed. You internally screamed.

"You look quite wonderful, too." You said, and he rose up with a smile. He took your hand, your fingers brushing softly with eachother as he kissed it.

The music went silent, overshadowed by loud static. Everyone looked around confused as the room glowed red, and your father appeared behind Lucifer.

"You dare touch my daughter?" He growled. You could feel his anger and protectiveness in your gut. You sent him a reassuring smile and glance, to which he stopped towering over Lucifer, the music blasting again.

Everything back to normal.

Lucifer and Alastor exchanged a glare of pure hatred.

Shit, was Lucifer messing with you just to fuck with your dad? It was working, then. Alastor was beyond furious.

You looked into Lucifer's eyes and couldn't help but smile. It was like a spell. You were frightened, that you'd fall in love now, even though he was quite literally using you to get under your father's skin..

To be continued..

Okay that's it folks. This took a lot to upload but I've started the next part and ahhh I love itt. This is a bit rushed but I hope you like it so far :)).

[zwhoreo]

IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FOUND AN X READER BLOG SPECIFICALLY FOR LUFFY hes my biggest comfort character and i never see a lot of ppl writing good content for him, so tysm ; v ; have u ever considered writing something about reader reacting to hancock’s fixation on luffy??? or like meeting her and how reader would react + how luffy would react in an au setting of having a girlfriend???!!! (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

you’re sooo sweet :’) I love writing for him sm I’m so glad I can be there for that <333

we’ll see how I did with this… hancock is a very important character to me and I haaate when luffy x readers villainize her. so I tried my best to be respectful in this fic and try something kinda different…

meeting boa hancock - luffy x f!reader

angsty fluff… mostly centered around you and hancock

summary: when you and luffy need to fight by hancock’s side in battle, you’re terrified of what might happen if she finds out you two are together. But, as you soon discover, you can find friendship in the most unlikely places.

words: 2.5k

________________________

Your wrist is sprained. It’s not your hand you use to wield your cutlass, thankfully, but the pain is hard on you, you’re ashamed at your inability to deal with pain, in comparison to your crewmates who sacrifice so much. You can’t climb sheer cliffs or take swords to the chest. Your body is weak, you fear, you don’t think you could handle taking on a crewmate’s pain, although you like to think you would try, because you’d risk your life for them. Right now you can barely handle a sprained wrist, made worse by the humiliation of a capture by the Black Dove Pirates, when your loving boyfriend had to battle to save you.

The Black Doves are led by, well, Black Dove, a horrific man with a mysterious zoan-type devil fruit giving him the abilities of a kraken, massive, lethal tentacles capable of sinking ships. Restraining himself from a passionate fight, Luffy’s top priority was getting you to safety, you and your sprained wrist, you had tried to fight, after all.

But now the Black Doves have declared war, leaving you and the crew terrified of an unmatched battle with the notorious pirates and their mythical captain. But Luffy had a friend to call, a powerful friend, someone he told you was someone you could count on, that you had nothing to worry about now.

Boa Hancock.

You knew of her, of course, and you were thankful for the surprising alliance, until you remembered what Luffy had said, when he said it far too casually, that Hancock wanted to marry him.

You’re overcome with anxiety at not only the imminent battle with the Black Doves, but at the thought that you were in danger from all sides, the wrath Hancock would bring down on you if she ever found out you and Luffy were together.

In the heat of battle Luffy has often held your hand and given you angry kisses when he can. It’s a comfort for him, it gives him strength and motivation, it reassures him that you’re safe in his arms. He calls you pet names and hugs you and always makes sure he knows where you are, making sure you’re ok. But he can’t this time. You plead and beg him not to even though he doesn’t seem to understand why, really. He’s disappointed, but you assure him that before and afterward you’d get a special night together to make up for the stolen closeness.

_______________________

The rest of the crew are set to battle the titanic kraken guarding the gates of Dove’s hellish mountain island domain. A sneak attack is your only option but they didn’t make this easy. It would be you and Hancock against the top men of the crew, and Luffy would battle Dove. You aren’t confident in your abilities, you wonder why you’re here alongside two of the most powerful people of the seas, but Luffy wants you close, maybe. And he thinks this fight will be no problem, even though you tell him you have a sprained wrist and you’ll just drag everyone down.

And as soon as she sees you, the instant your eyes meet, Hancock despises you. Her gaze is deadly and cold, and even though you try to put distance between you and Luffy your very existence triggers pangs of jealousy within the empress.

Luffy, although largely oblivious to why, can sense the tension and he hates it. He wants you all to be friends, be a team. When you and Hancock stand in silence, staring at each other on the rocky shore, he complains, “c’mon! Lessgo!” with anxiety in his voice. And he holds both of your hands and pulls you two along behind him, making you and Hancock both blush, Hancock is transported to another more comforting world in that moment but you are so wracked with nerves that every sense around you becomes overwhelming and far too much.

You look at Luffy with begging eyes when he squeezes your hand and not Hancock’s, although she doesn’t seem to notice.

The three of you run up the jagged black-stone path into a bombed-out looking castle, you gingerly survey the landscape as crew members lay drunk on whiskey, passed out and unbothered by lightning flickering overhead. You came at the perfect time.

Before running off to find Dove, Luffy is about to lean in for a kiss when you dodge and shoot him a look. Which immediately makes you sad, because Luffy looks upset when he turns his back and heads off into a brutal fight that awaits him. It’s your biggest fear that you’ll lose him, made worse by imagining your last interaction as one of sadness, but you feel Hancock’s malicious eyes on you and there’s nothing you can do.

You hear a shout, suddenly, echoing through the ruins. A crew member has heard you, an axe wielding menace with glassy white eyes. Hancock whips her head around and immediately tries to turn him to stone, but the man is blind, you both realize. It’s no use.

“I’ll take him, just go!” you shout at her, the first real words you’ve said. And Hancock glowers at you and focuses her attention elsewhere, because the crew has been alerted. And Dove has risen, you see, coming face-to-face with Luffy and towering above him at what seems like at least twelve feet. Black tentacles begin forming from his massive, muscular frame and an evil smirk spreads across his face.

Your heart leaps into your throat for Luffy’s safety but you have other things to worry about. The axe wielding monster swings at you and you manage to dodge, drawing your cutlass. It’s a harsh and desperate battle, your movements still clouded by worry which makes the throbbing in your wrist worse, but it’s when you lead the sightless beast to a precipice that you trick him and let him fall to his death on the rocks far below. You’ve slayed your first Black Dove pirate, but there’s many more and you need to dive head first into war.

You’re amazed by Hancock, really. At a snap of her hands half an army turns to stone. Her control of haki is like nothing you’ve seen before, her sharp, quick intelligence adjusting at a moment’s notice to other forms of attack. She does all of this in heels, in a graceful dress, beautiful raven hair flying in the wind as she fights with all her heart. You find yourself envying her, her jealousy over you nearly matched by your own.

But she still kicks crew members out of her way and towards you with no real regard for your safety. She still hates you, just for being a woman on Luffy’s crew. Even though you’d done nothing wrong.

Despite Luffy’s best efforts, he’s smashed into the sharp stone by a tentacle and struggles to stand again, groaning and coughing. Dove sees his crew in danger and wants to make quick work of the two women disturbing the peace on his island.

There is too much evil in his heart for Hancock to turn him to stone. And his tentacles are too fast for her, she’s cornered, now, on a cliff and Dove is going to knock her into the ocean. At the speed of light the inky tentacles come, taking advantage of Hancock’s momentary stillness in her sinking terror and desperation, and how she sees Luffy on the ground and screams in worry and is distracted for a precious instant. But before she’s sent falling to her death, she’s knocked from the side, slammed onto the ground and tumbling, held in your arms, down an incline and into the remnants of a turret. Dove can’t reach you from here, giving Luffy enough time to resume his fight.

You had grabbed Hancock and pushed her desperately to safety, you had saved her, and now you both lie there in the dark on the dirty stone floor, all bruises and ripped clothes.

Your head rests on her chest, neither of you have caught your breath enough to get up. And from here you can hear her heart pounding furiously in your ear, she’s scared and curled in on herself.

You roll off of her, slowly sitting up, looking over at her as she rests sprawled on the ground.

She feels your eyes on her and sits up, face contorted with warring emotions. Her lips are set in a firm scowl. She’s staring at you but you see past the malice and now she looks like a scared animal desperate to survive.

“Are you ok?” you say gently, reaching for her hand.

She yanks it away from yours and scoots back against the wall. “Yes! I’m fine…” she hisses defensively.

But she’s clutching her wrist. And she may have just hurriedly wiped tears out of her eyes.

Before you can say anything else, she leaps up and runs to a window, scanning the battlefield for Luffy. Her hands grip the cold brick. She’s shaking slightly.

“Are you worried about him?” you ask quietly, standing up and walking towards her slowly.

“Where is he?” Her voice is quiet now. Images of Luffy’s battered body flash in her mind and you can see the same sickness within her that you feel, a worry over someone you love so deeply. The jealousy and fear of her leaves your mind and is replaced by one thought alone.

Poor girl.

“He’s going to be ok, I promise.” You place a hand on her shoulder making her flinch, but she doesn’t pull away this time.

She doesn’t say anything. But she’s still scared.

So you say, “hey, princess, I’m scared too. But… all we can do is hope and keep ourselves safe now, right? We did what we could. We brought down an army for him.”

She pauses again, head down. Until she murmurs, “…Hancock.” Another pause. “You can call me Hancock.”

You smile. You sit again and she follows your lead. “You really love him, huh?”

“…Yes. Of course I do.” A tiny tear forms in her eye again, even though her voice is still hard and cold. “…Sometimes I don’t understand how anyone can’t be.”

So you think very carefully for a moment, before telling her, “I understand. He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met, he’s…”

“He’s perfect.”

“Yeah, that.”

And even though jealousy still blooms in her icy heart, Hancock feels herself soften. She doesn’t feel like sustaining her mirage anymore right now. The fear and the tears and the confusing comradery chipping away at her evil façade and now she’s just so, so tired all of a sudden. “[Name,] right?” she says under her breath.

“Yeah.”

“You really think he’ll be ok?”

“He always is.” And without Zoro or Nami there to reprimand you about trust, you take up the role instead, squeezing Hancock’s shoulder and saying, “have faith in him. Worrying’s not gonna help any of us right now.”

She nods, tightening her lips. And then, all of a sudden, she bursts into tears and hugs her knees to her chest, hair falling over her face.

“Hey, Hancock!” You slide closer to her. “Please don’t cry, he’s going to be safe…”

“No!” she hisses, gritting her teeth, “I… I don’t know where Salome is. I want Salome. Everything’s falling apart!”

“…Salome?”

“My snake!” she cries, sniffing and wiping her nose.

“Don’t worry about that either, ok? I’m sure she’s alright, it’s all gonna be over soon… just don’t cry…”

And now here’s something you weren’t prepared for, Hancock leans her head against your shoulder. Her sobbing quiets. She grows still. You smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“It’s gonna be ok,” you whisper again, “hey, can I see your wrist?”

And she places her hand in yours. You lift her pale, slender wrist and notice swelling just beneath the palm. You recognize this, you know it well.

You start to laugh, and her stare grows a little icy again. “What?” she snaps.

“You sprained your wrist. Here, look…” You raise yours next to hers. Your swelling parallels each other, you’re even more alike, now. You’re matching.

“We’re matching. I sprained mine too.”

She smiles. This is the first time you’ve made her smile. She even laughs a little, very lightly, her heart feels like it’s being squeezed, but by a warm hand, not by a cold claw.

You sit with her, and talk sometimes, until you hear Luffy calling your names. Hancock stands up and dashes out of the turret, running to find him, and he stands proudly although his body is weakened. Dove has fallen. You’re all ok. Hancock hugs Luffy and then hugs Salome, who is curled beside him. She looks happy, which makes you happy, too.

And then Luffy pulls you into a hug. You don’t care anymore, you just want to hug him, and Hancock got a hug so you get one too. You squeeze Luffy so tightly and you don’t want to let go, his warmth and scent soothing your body, his strong arms wrapped around you and his hands rubbing your back. You’re very nervous he’s going to try to kiss you but he doesn’t, like he promised, he knows he’ll have time for all of that later.

The kraken is gone and everyone is waiting for you at the bay. Hancock is tearful when she has to part with Luffy and, strangely, she is for you too.

“Come to me whenever you need! I’ll always be there for you!” she promises Luffy, her voice going up an octave when she talks to him. And then, before she leaves for her ship, she turns to you. “[Name…] I hope we’ll meet again.” Her smile is gentle, but very real.

“Me too!” You call out to her, following Luffy away, back to the Sunny, amazed at the events of the day, full of happiness and relief and still a slight stinging from your wrist but love can heal almost anything, at least a little bit.

And maybe deep in her heart, Hancock knows. The way you and Luffy look at each other, your soft voices, the way he walks close to you and how it seems like he’s always ready to lean in for a hug. It pulls at the back of her mind. A sting of pain. But she’s good at pushing these things away.

She’s just so happy that she made a friend today.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

A Feast of Blood

Also on AO3

Pairing: Vampire!Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Vampire!Reader (fem)

WC: 3.5k words

Summary: An AU in which Hannibal is a vampire. // Shortly after turning you into a vampire, your sire, Hannibal Lecter, teaches you how to feed, using Will Graham as subject. Things just get really horny from then on lmao

Warnings: Dead dove DO NOT EAT, SMUT (18 + ONLY), Fem!Reader, lots of body fluids being swapped (saliva, blood, cum // don't read if it makes you queasy), vampirism, blood drinking (consensual), blood mentions, biting, raw p in v (DO NOT DO IT), slightly subby Will?, very slight enemies to lovers if you squint, let me know if anything else!

Tags: @the-devils-littlegirl

--------

"Well fed devils behave better than famished saints." -D.L. Smith.

-------

The night drew closer to the hour between the dog and the wolf, shadows deepening. It had been quiet for the most part, as if the house was also holding its breath in anticipation.

Then the doorbell rang, loud as a death knell, announcing his arrival.

“Dinner time,” Hannibal said with a grin, his tone almost playful. 

He got up to open the front door, but you stayed put, smoothing out the hem of your dress. It was nothing fancy since you knew you would very likely ruin it, but you still wanted to look presentable.

You were more curious than nervous about tonight’s lesson, especially since it wasn’t with a complete stranger. 

For a week after Hannibal had turned you, he fed you only the blood that he’d procured. He’d wanted you to regain your strength first, but he had stressed the importance of learning to feed by yourself as soon as you were able.

As it were, Will, his most consistent donor, had been called in as the subject. You had met him well before you were turned, though even then Hannibal was well established as your sire. 

Will was always reserved, if a bit prickly, towards you. You wondered if he’d thought of you as just another one of Hannibal’s human playthings, gullible enough to believe he’d actually turn you.

It was true enough that Hannibal had fed on you a few times, but it was unlike his other feedings. You had watched him a couple of other times, oscillating between unbridled carnage and self-possession. 

The latter was more like bonding for him — The brutal intimacy of the bite, the unspoken trust that no deadly harm would be inflicted, the decadence of your life’s essence flowing through him. Sustaining him. 

But of course, he had kept his word, guiding you into the eternal night. And these were pleasures you would get to experience anew, just from the other side of things. You wondered what Will thought of the sudden turn of fate. 

He followed Hannibal into the living room, absentmindedly undoing the top buttons of his flannel shirt. You raised your eyebrows at Hannibal, who seemed equally amused at Will’s apparent eagerness. 

“A simple hello would be enough of a greeting,” you said lightly, tone just teasing enough for him to know you weren’t sneering. 

Will let his hands drop as he became conscious of his actions. “Force of habit.”

“Sit, please, Will,” Hannibal said, gesturing towards an armchair. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Will snorted at the irony of trying to relax around not one, but two bloodsuckers, but he sat regardless. His posture was tense, arms rigidly placed on the armrests, shoulders squared. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve started getting nervous now,” you said, feeling bold enough to continue testing him. “This isn’t your first rodeo.”

“Well, I trust Hannibal possesses enough self-control not to kill me. You, on the other hand…” He grimaced as if remembering himself, looking down. 

You sniffed, offended. “I didn’t pounce on you the minute you walked in, did I?” 

Hannibal put a placating hand on your arm. “Don’t take it to heart, my love. I have had years to harness myself, and it has not been an easy journey. And you, Will, must also understand that patience goes both ways.”

Will inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True, I apologize for that.”

Still, Hannibal could understand his spike in anxiety, but he’d decided to be polite and not mention it outright, as you did. 

“Something to drink for you, maybe? I’ve got that scotch you like,” he offered, and Will accepted.

As Hannibal went to get it for him, you and Will stared at each other for a tense moment. Perhaps his animosity stemmed from envy at you being a newly minted vampire. You weren’t sure if Hannibal had ever promised him anything, but you were sure your sire would have mentioned it if that was the case.

“Think you’ll be able to stand having me close to you?” You asked, tone mild once again. 

Hannibal returned, handing Will a glass of the amber liquid. He raised it in your direction, as if toasting to you. 

“After one of these, I’ll be loose and relaxed for you, don’t worry,” he said wryly, taking a swig. 

Your eyes were drawn to his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed. You briefly wondered if you’d be able to taste the scotch in his blood, and if it would warm you the same way it did him.

“Better?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Will nodded, flexing his fingers. Then, with a more determined look on his face, he turned to you. 

“Can I sit next to you?” He asked. “Seems like a good place to start.”

You slowly nodded, shuffling to the side to give him as much space as you could. You unconsciously glanced over at Hannibal for reassurance, and he gave you a serene smile.

“That’s better,” he said. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

This time, Will was sensible enough not to react. His head turned towards you, but his eyes didn’t meet yours quite yet. 

“That’s a nice perfume. What is it?” He asked, actively trying to soften his tone. 

“Oleander,” you said. 

“Deceptively sweet, but ultimately deadly,” he said, referring to the flower’s poisonous effects. 

He looked up then, eyebrows raised, and you let out an amused huff. “I suppose you’re gonna say it’s fitting.”

“That’s a given, but take that as a compliment, please.”

Hannibal chuckled. “There it is, Will. Flattery will get you much further.”

“Why don’t you sit on his other side?” You asked Hannibal. “Maybe he’ll be more comfortable that way.”

He complied, making Will scoot closer to the middle, his leg lightly brushing yours. That first contact made you tense, hunger stirring curiously within you.

Warmth emanated from him and your sensitive ears registered his heartbeat, loud as a drum. You could see the pulsing blue veins underneath his pale skin, branching out like the roots of an ancient tree. He was deliciously alive, and it filled you with longing. 

There were many things in your new, preternatural state that you were still getting used to. Nostalgia was a sheen on your mind you knew you had to shed, but it would take some time. You found yourself leaning closer to him, wanting to be near that spark, but both men misinterpreted this move.

“Easy now, we’re still warming up here,” Will said, but he didn’t move away. “Unless you’re just absolutely famished, then I don’t want you to torture yourself anymore.”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Do you need another drink, Will?” Hannibal asked, sensing the tension returning.

He shook his head. “I’m good for now. Do you think it might be a good idea to try with my wrist first?”

“Yes, great idea,” Hannibal said. “Though not too much. We’ll save it for the next part.”

Will unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow. He offered you his arm, the inside of his wrist facing up. You took it gingerly, your fingers lightly following the patterns of his veins. The touch was so gentle it tickled him a little, making the hairs on his arm rise. 

You brought his wrist up closer to your face, looking over at Hannibal as your lips were mere inches from making contact. He nodded encouragingly.

��There is more room for error here, but not by much. Don’t fully sink your teeth in, it’s enough to just break the skin,” he said, making sure you were listening by holding your gaze.

This time, your eyes flicked over to Will’s face, and he also nodded. Your sharp, slightly elongated canines pierced the soft flesh and blood bubbled right into your mouth in a burst of flavor.

You let out a sound akin to a whimper, latching onto the wound. Will sucked in a sharp breath at the sting but stayed put. 

“That’s enough now,” Hannibal said firmly, bringing you back to the present.

You painstakingly reined yourself in and lapped it up with your tongue, closing the small wounds. Your lips were smeared crimson as you straightened, panting, chin dipped in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry…” you murmured, licking your lips. 

“Don’t apologize, you did good, Mieloji,” he said reassuringly, the Lithuanian endearment making you smile. “Now, how about we get to the good part?”

Hunger lashed your insides like a whip at the prospect of more. They could both see the feverish glint in your eye, and Hannibal knew you were trying your hardest to prove Will wrong. He wasn’t sure, however, of how long you would last before giving in to instinct.

He pressed a little closer to Will, knowing he would have to be more careful this time around. You, on the other hand, hesitated.

“Do you… need a break or something?” You asked Will slowly.

“No. Do you?” He said evenly, undoing a few other buttons on his shirt and pushing it off one shoulder.

You shook your head embarrassingly fast. He chuckled, and it was the first time you had seen him break out into a smile that night. It set you more at ease, encouraging you to draw closer as well.

His breathing hitched as you leaned against his arm. Your face neared the crook of his neck, and you gently nudged his jaw upwards with your nose.

“That’s it, my love, tilt his head just so,” Hannibal instructed patiently, his voice like a purr. “See the line of his artery, how his pulse surges at your nearness.”

Your mouth watered, your pupils blown wide with a beastly desire. Before you could help yourself, you traced the tip of your tongue over his skin. You could taste the adrenaline in his sweat, but a hum of pleasure escaped Will’s lips.

Hannibal chuckled, letting you indulge a moment longer.

“Now remember, the bite must be precise. A single fluid motion, otherwise it can get messy,” he continued, tangling his fingers through Will’s curls, keeping his head in place. “He will whimper, but the pain only lasts a moment.”

“What if he moves?” You murmured, voice low and slightly hoarse, conscience fighting through the fog of your bloodlust.

“He won’t, he’s very well-behaved. Isn’t that right, Will?”

Will nodded his assent, eyes heavy-lidded. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Angling your head to one side for better access, you didn’t let yourself hesitate. Once your teeth tore into the side of his neck, his body went rigid at first, but then it slowly started to relax. 

You clasped him against you, lost in the rush of blood his heart was suddenly pumping down your throat. Without you noticing, you hooked a leg over one of his, your body trying to envelop him like a serpent. 

It didn’t matter that you’d been bickering mere moments ago, bristling at the mere thought of being in the same room together. All of that melted away as soon as your lips touched his skin. Will’s breathing had turned shallow, the barest of sounds occasionally escaping his lips. 

His taste was indescribable, like pure starlight, crackling like electricity within you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and all you wanted was more, more, more. You could perfectly understand why Hannibal would occasionally give in to savagery.

“Slow down,” Hannibal instructed, taking hold of one of your arms. “Slower. That’s it, good girl.”

You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes bloodshot and utterly inhuman. He caressed the back of your head gently, proud of you for fighting so hard to keep control of yourself. He was on the same boat as you, the metallic scent like a siren’s lure.

“Now stop, before you take too much,” he said, looking over at Will. “Are you doing okay, Will?”

“Dizzy, but I’ll live,” he said weakly, groaning softly as you closed the puncture wounds with your tongue once more. “Do you need me, too?”

“Just rest for now,” Hannibal said absently, eyes fixed on you. “I’ll get myself a taste.”

You disentangled yourself from Will, slowly coming back to reality. The lower half of your face, your neck, and your chest were stained crimson, adorning you like macabre jewelry. 

Hannibal immediately drew you to him, kissing you like he was trying to devour you whole. The blood smeared messily between you, tongues swirling in each other’s mouths. When you separated, an obscene, pink string of saliva hung between your lips.

He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself some despite the desire glazing his eyes.

“I… I will get you some water, and something to eat,” He said to Will in a daze, standing up from the couch slowly. “Just— one second.”

You watched him leave the room, your mind still whirling from the whole thing. Then suddenly, you scented fresh blood once again and looked over at Will in surprise. He had bitten his lip hard enough to bleed, and it was starting to swell. He was breathing hard, and there was a plea in his striking blue eyes.

You let out a desirous, pathetic sound, your body moving on its own accord. Your lips slid over his in an almost kiss, your faces inches apart, breaths mingling.

“You really want me to kiss you?” You panted, eyes heavy lidded. “I thought you hated me.”

He shook his head. “It was envy, and it was want. It was always want.”

You kissed him then, trembling eagerly. It was slow and tentative at first, but intensity built quickly. You were still riding the high of feeding from him, but a languorous heat was also spreading through you; Burning everything else away.

You didn’t hear Hannibal returning, but you felt him take his place back on Will’s other side. One look at him, and you could immediately tell he was just as restless. You broke the kiss for a moment to meet Hannibal’s lips, enticing him further.

And when you returned to Will’s lips, Hannibal’s face drew close, too. Then all three of you were kissing, a mess of lips and tongues and an ever-growing voracity. 

You left them to it for a moment and practically tore the rest of Will’s shirt off, exposing more of his warm skin. You trailed open-mouthed kisses all over it and Will moaned into Hannibal’s mouth.

“Please,” he pleaded, as if it was the only word he could say. “Please.”

“What do you need?” You rasped, kissing his neck and making him shudder. 

“Have me, use me,” he said as Hannibal pulled back. “Leave nothing behind.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in delighted surprise, watching you slide onto Will’s lap, straddling him. 

“Careful what you wish for,” he said, smirking. “She just might make it come true.”

He stood and helped you pull your dress over your head. Will’s brows furrowed and he let out a small, agonized sound as he took you in. His hands roamed over you reverently, like a worshiper praising his goddess. 

You did quick work of his belt, pulling off his pants as much as you could. You reached down and felt the velvety underside of his erection with the tips of your fingers. His hips bucked into your hand and you shushed soothingly, gently, promising to ease his torment.

And then, holding it by the base, you slowly sank down on his cock. His grip tightened on your hips, helping you move as Hannibal dipped down to kiss you. His fingers stroked up and down your throat, keeping your head tilted back and your chest exposed.

Will’s lips latched onto one of the hardened peaks of your nipples, and you felt his stubble graze the soft skin as he rubbed his face against your breast. He repeated his motions with the other one, grunting when he felt you clench down on him slightly. His teeth added an edge that made you buck and writhe, but neither let you move too far.

You palmed Hannibal’s growing bulge over his slacks as you dragged your tongue over his. He covered your hand with one of his, pressing your palm tighter against it. Your hips rolled against Will’s faster, your free hand buried in his hair, tugging slightly.

“Fuck me,” you could hear Will breathe out in tempo with your movements, like a hypnotic chant. “Oh, yeah, fuck me… just like that.”

“Katinėli, let me get a better taste of you,” Hannibal murmured deliriously, tilting your head to the side and biting into your shoulder.

You cried out, eyelids twitching as your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was that overwhelming rush that made the first orgasm violently slam against you. Momentarily, you became nothing but pure sensation, held aloft by the two of them. 

When you came back into your body, Hannibal was mending the skin of your shoulder, undoing his slacks. You collapsed against Will, trying to catch your breath. He clung to you, in the last throes of his own release. As it turned out, the intensity of your climax had milked out his own. He smiled beatifically, his eyes heavy-lidded, long lashes fanning close to his cheekbones.

You couldn’t help a weak chuckle, lightly kissing his jaw. “Now you might need a break.”

“When I get my strength back, you’ll see… but for now, yes,” he said, also chuckling.

“All the better for me,” Hannibal said from behind you. Your back bowed as he planted a ticklish kiss on the base of your spine. “It’s my turn to reward you.”

Your gluttonous desire flared back to life, and you were pliant as he helped you off of Will, bending you over the back of the couch. Hannibal extended his hand towards him and said, “A little help?”

Will spat in his hand, and Hannibal slicked his saliva over his cock. You heard him suck in a breath as he pushed into you, stretching you slowly. Will offered you his hand and you threaded your fingers through his, keeping eye contact with him as Hannibal’s hips began snapping into yours. 

Your mouth was slackened by wanton moans, your body pressed flat against the back of the couch as Hannibal bent over you. One of his hands was on the back of your neck, pinning you in place, while the other gripped your hip.

“Such a good girl for me,” he panted. “You did so, so good tonight.”

“Please, let me taste you too,” you begged, already losing yourself once more to the hazy oblivion.

He could deny you nothing, so he presented his wrist to your wanting mouth. The pain of your teeth was exquisite, and you drank with the greediness of the famished.

Drinking from each other was like falling in love all over again. Like the deepest embrace, beyond carnality; Beyond even the physical. More of his weight leaned on you as he slid in and out of you, faster and faster, the collective euphoria between you growing. His grunts and moans were like a savage melody to your ears, indicating that he was getting close.

Will was whispering praise and sweet nothings near your ear as you gripped his hand tighter. These soft coaxings, along with the soothing feeling that Hannibal’s blood brought, and you felt yourself dissolve once more like seafoam under the sunlight. The ecstasy was almost religious, a glimpse of the heaven you might never see beyond moments like this. 

But if it meant your nights would be filled with such encounters, then you were more than okay with that. 

With one last, triumphant growl, Hannibal came inside of you. His cock was fully sheathed in your cunt, his last few strokes short and tight, riding out every last wave of pleasure alongside you.

He slipped out of you, withdrawing his wrist from your mouth. You sat back down next to Will, leaning against him. With the last of your strength, grabbed the glass of water and helped him drink from it. The three of you shared sated, conspiratorial smiles, like you instinctively knew all along things would lead to this moment.

“How about a bath?” Hannibal offered, kissing your shoulders as he hovered near you. “We could all use some cleaning up.”

“That’s a good idea,” you said. “And then we can take better care of Will here. I want to make sure he recovers his strength, after all.”

Will couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, you’re so kind to think about me.”

You smiled a Cheshire cat’s grin. “See? I can give as much as I take.”

“I’m never doubting you again,” he said, glancing up at Hannibal. “Either of you. Hannibal was right about you all along.”

You nuzzled his neck. “Hmmm, if only you’d realized sooner, we’d have been much more amicable before this.”

“But I’m yours now too, aren’t I?”

Yes, he was, and neither you nor Hannibal had any plans to let him go any time soon.

-------

[what-would-your-blorbo-do]

New Blorbo Game Blog!! (Please read this before sending in requests)

Hello, we are a new game blog that post polls about random scenarios you sent us; our polls will consist of scenarios as the main questions and the answer choices will be different ways a character may react in regard to these scenarios. All you have to do is vote the choice you think your Blorbo would do if they were in that situation.

We, as the owners of this blog, have every right to rephrase, edit, alter any poll however we see fit without notifying the submitter.

Rules:

Send the scenario of your choice to our inbox — it can be anything, for instance, a bear attack, hurricane, a plane crash, a heartbreak, etc — and the answer choices consist of different ways a Blorbo might react to said scenario. Very important: keep in mind that Tumblr only allows 80 characters max per one answer choice, 12 answer choices max in one poll.

We will make a separate poll (not by directly responding to the request in our inbox) from that scenario you sent us, so people can vote which answer choice they think their Blorbo would do in said situation.

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Overly specific requests may not get posted; for instance, a request about a scenario that is so specifically about one specific fandom that it requires people to be in said fandom in order for them to understand and be able to vote may be deleted altogether (if it does get posted then chances are it's about fandom that is well-known enough or the scenario is interesting enough, the decision is entirely up to the admins, but keep in mind that there is a chance it will not get posted). Please try to only submit scenarios about situations that don't require people to be in any specific fandom in order for them to understand what goes on.

Example of a good request that will get posted

Poll’s question 👇🏻

What would your Blorbo do if they were stuck in an elevator with their archenemy?

The answer choices may be 👇🏻

They’d make out with that enemy

They’d cry and their enemy would comfort them

They and their enemies would try to kill each other

They both would panic

You’ll vote the choice you think your Blorbo would do. And that’s it. Have fun!

If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out to us via our inbox!

*For those who are not familiar with the term, Blorbo means one’s comfort/favorite fictional character.

**We have the rights not to post any poll we believe might be harmful or poll about situation we’re not comfortable posting. However, violence and gore in general are fine (Dead Dove in general is fine too, though it depends on the scenario). We’ll tag them with trigger warnings accordingly.

[1anxiousbeancrying]

I headcanon all of the Angels in hazbin hotel to have different wings and characteristics based on different birds. Like I have so many thoughts on the angels it's not even funny. I also have a few on halos.

Lucifer: I like the idea of all of the seraphim being the same type of bird being a dove but I like to imagine that Lucifers wings changed after he fell to duck wings even if they do not look like them they have the same shape and capabilities of them, as his wings seem much bigger than the other seraphim though I don't think we've seen sera or Emilys wings at full size. It's also why his wings are two different colors, he also absolutely quacks.

Emily and Sera: both have dove wings, they are seen as authority figures in heaven so there wings indicate there purity and elegance. Though I was thinking of giving them swan wings (I'm not sure yet), Emily also coos and vocalizes more than sera

Adam: he's heavens golden goose, he's loud and angry like one and I can image him honking. His wings are very large and beautiful, and I can see him being very possessive over his exorcists due to the first two lady's in his life leaving him. He absolutely makes the exorcists preen his wings.

Vaggie and lute: putting these two together because there the same species. All exorcists have falcon wings. The exorcists are heavens army they need to be fast and deadly. Compered to the other angels in heaven exorcists have very dark wings with lighter insides similar to the falcon. Never race an exorcist you will lose. Exorcists all preen each others wings as they are all part of the same flock, after vaggie was left in hell she greatly missed having someone preen her wings but after what lute did to her she absolutely hates people touching her wings. All exorcists use falcon calls to communicate with each other.

Winners: most winners have extremely small wings from what we saw in the show, I like to imagine the bigger the wings the more important the role of the winner is like St Peter's wings where very big compared to that of Molly's. The most common wings you would see in winners are pigeon, hummingbird, seagull and Robin.

Redeemed sinners: the only redeemed sinner so far is sir pentious and from the looks of it he doesn't have any wings, so I'm assuming that sinners don't get wings when they go to heaven.

Halo headcanons

Halos indicate your rank in heaven, the more spikes or accessories indicate more power, sera being the most powerful/influencal angel we've seen so far has an extremely large and beautiful Halo.

Next is Emily, but due to her having a lower status her Halo is smaller ( I also think the eye appearing when she's angry is cool)

Next would be Adam with his bright gold halo and single Spike, his is interesting because despite him technically being a winner his status as the first man boosts his power. His halo also has the power to communicate with all the other exorcists like we see lute do in the last episode when she picks it up.

Then we have the exorcists, their halos are completely black which is very interesting as all other angel species so far have bright halos, maybe it represents the violence their capable of? Idk they also have the same spike as Adam Maybe that's how he can communicate with them. My theory on the exorcists is that there heaven born so would rank higher that the winners it just makes more sense and it would be the opposite of the sinners where hell born are ranked under them.

Lastly would be the winners, sinners turned winners and the cherubs as the all have the same halo being a single ring. Everything in the show so far has indicated the winners being the weakest in heaven this could change but so far this is my ranking.

[dodje-melai]

Can we talk about how fucking sweet Hobie would be in a relationship?

He’d treat you so well every single moment he’s with you. He’d never treat you bad and would always make sure you feel appreciated and wanted.

You guys probably wouldn’t have an official title to your relationship because Hobie “doesn’t believe in labels” (he’s joking when he says that), but everyone who knows you knows that you two are basically dating. However, if it matters to you about putting a label on your relationship with him, he’d be totally cool with doing that. He wouldn’t mind you calling him your partner publicly, and he’d love to do the same with you.

“I don’t mind puttin’ a label on us, luv. Whateva makes ya happy.”

Hobie would treat you almost daily with handmade gifts, or gifts he bought from a small family-owned shop, or something he just stole from a corporate-owned store if it’s something you really really want. He’d also treat you by taking you out, mainly to cool places that he’s found while swinging around. He’d also take you out to concerts by either stealing tickets or sneaking you in.

“‘Ey doll, got us sum tickets to a band ya like.”

“What? Hobie, these tickets are crazy expensive! How the hell did you buy these?”

“I ain’t ever said I bought ‘em.”

And sometimes, if he thinks you’re tough enough for it and you’re willing to go, he’ll take you to riots with him. He’d hold your hand or your hip or just anywhere he can so that he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He makes sure that nothing bad happens to you, which his spidey sense makes it easier for him to do so. Though if you were to somehow get hurt he’d feel guilty for letting that happen, and he’d patch you up and make sure you heal properly.

“Hobie, I’m fine. I just scraped my knee—“

“I don’t want ya gettin’ an infection, dove. The road’s dirty. Now quit squirmin’, I’m tryna disinfect it.”

Aside from gift giving and quality time, Hobie’s other love language is physical touch. He loves to hold you, kiss you, touch you, anything that involves being close to you. He’ll hold your hand or your hip while walking, and he’ll either hold your waist or slip his hand into your back pocket while you’re standing together. If you’re sitting, he’ll always have his hand on your thigh. Always. Sometimes he’ll even try to sit you on his lap if he wants to be extra close to you.

“Mm… c’mere babes, I wanna be closer to ya.”

“Hobie, I’m literally sitting on top of you. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes ya can, you’re just not tryin’ hard enough.”

I think a very important aspect of being in a relationship with Hobie would be effective communication. Yes that’s important in all relationships, but it’s extremely important for him especially. He always wants to be aware of what’s too much for you so that he doesn’t cross any boundaries, and if he did, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to tell him what he did. He hates the thought of miscommunication ruining your relationship.

“Darlin’, I can tell somethin’ is wrong. Ya can tell me anythin’, ya know that yeah?”

Hobie is undoubtedly a very loyal partner. He would never even think of cheating on you. You’re practically his everything at this point. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you; it doesn’t matter how he loses you, any way would be devastating. In turn, he trusts that you are very loyal too. He knows that you’d never cheat on him or flirt with someone else. Why would he date you if he didn’t trust you?

“Ya know I trust ya mo’ than anyone, yeah?”

Hobie doesn’t get jealous or overly possessive. He knows you’re his, there’s no need to consistently flaunt that. Besides, it’s fun watching you tell people that are flirting with you that you’re not single. But if some bastard wants to keep flirting with you after you’ve made it clear that you’re taken and uninterested, then he’ll step in and put that bastard in their place.

“Oi, fuck off mate. They ain’t interested in you.”

Something important about Hobie is that he’ll never lie to you. He keeps secrets, but if you find out about something and confront him about it, he’ll tell you the truth. Even if the secret you found out is that he’s Spider-Man.

“Hobie, this is a serious question, so I need you to tell me the truth. Are you really, genuinely Spider-Man?”

“Yep, I am. You’re a smart one, dove. How much snoopin’ have you been doin’ lately?”

“…I swear to god if you’re messing with me right now I will punt you.”

“Not jokin’. I’m a hundred percent serious, especially ‘bout ya bein’ very smart.”

Basically I think being his partner would be nice :)

[aayakashii]

I'm going through the Sinostra chapter right now and I can't stop making theories omg there might be spoilers below so be careful, although I'm just enumerating my questions tbh lol

According to one of Taiga's home screen dialogs, there might be some sort of time loop happening which he's KINDA aware of? Or maybe just aware when triggered somehow.

He said "long time no see! You decide to ditch this future too? Sorry I'm not dead yet" which is INCREDIBLY ooc as to how he behaves during the story which leads me to

His extreme memory loss, which apparently lasts less than 24 hours. Why is that? Did he go through so many time loops that it started affecting his memory? There was one small moment in which he remembered Ritsu because he saw the MC face though...

The Clash. What the fuck was it

What's Taiga relationship to Haru? Haru sounds eerily nonchalant regarding Taiga even though the man keeps on threatening Peekaboo. And aftewards, Rui briefly mentions that Taiga has a "destroying what others hold dear" schtick, which leads me to believe that Taiga is seeking revenge for losing something important maybe???? Is the fanfic brainrot too big rn

WHY DOES HE HATE LIKE DOVES??????? I dont wanna go full romantic mode, but is he just resentful of seeing a bird that is the physical representation of someone else's feelings or something......

The spy. Honestly no idea. There's some theories floating around that Haku is the spy, but I would rather see him during the Hotarubi episode before jumping to conclusions, but it's understandable how people might think that I guess...? He IS very nice and helpful and randomly finding the MC fleeing by train was way too much of a coincidence... he does seem to always tie the MC to Darkwick somehow, firstly by KIDNAPPING her and then by talking her into staying. If the MC is the trigger to a bigger event, then one could see that as suspicious. But I would like a bit more evidence first lol

Back to Taiga, why is he. Like why

Okay no but seriously. If we take the timeloop thing seriously + Haku being a spy, here's the theory:

Taiga knows the MC is the trigger for an awful event and tried killing them back in the Prologue in order to cut the problem on its roots. Haku, if we consider him as the spy, WANTS the event to happen (considering he could also be aware of the loop), which is why he saved us and took us to Darkwick, therefore letting it all play out once again.

If Haku isn't the spy, then we would have to chalk it up as Taiga knowing and trying to kill us, but destiny (???) being a bitch, therefore putting Haku there as a pawn to make things play out again

Maybe the spy can control other ghouls? Who know tbh

Finally, what is going on during the first scene we see in the game? Darkwick on fire and the first character we choose jumping off of the building? I wonder what would happen if we choose Taiga as our first card....... maybe I should create a sub acc

Anyway if anyone has more questions/theories PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY IM OBSESSED WITH THIS GAME I NEED TO THINK ABT IT

There is also a good theory on reddit made by u/imonlybr16 that states this:

"Before the prologue, when you open the game for the first time, you're greeted with the opening scene involving MC running through the halls of a ruined Darkwick. The question is asked "When the world is collapsing around you, whose hand will you take?"

There you're taken to your character choice screen. The guy you choose is later shown on the railing of a balcony, about to jump off.

Now I think I have a very far fetched and vague idea as to what is going on.

In chapter 2, we learn that the person that Alan killed was Dante or at least he thought he did. But we meet Dante and he's very much alive.

This comes theory number one.

***You can't actually die on campus.***

Note the use of actually here. You can 100% still die, you just end up coming back to life.

If Rui is your home screen he talks about accidentally killing someone else in his dorm and being annoyed with having to lift them back to Obscuary. This struck me as a particularly odd dialogue because Rui's curse causes people to die.

Unless, you can't die on campus.

This would explain Dante pretty much instantly. Yes Alan killed him but yes he's alive.

The campus itself is an anomaly, stopping people from dying doesn't sound too far fetched. I expect this to be revealed with the other two members of Obscuary, as that dorm seems to have a connection to death. One of the things that always pops up is that ghouls aren't immortal, no matter how quickly they heal.

Also explains how Calamari didn't die in chapter 3. Ren ran from the dorm > the caves > the jetty and Calamari was already pretty dehydrated in the beginning.

But OP you might say, aren't all the guys talking like they believe they're going to die.

Luckily, that brings us to vauge and far fetched theory number two.

***The campus is on fire due to a rebellion***

In the very last chapter of the prologue we get to see Kaito's wickhive. There we see three pretty interesting threads.

. There's gonna be an uprising soon

. One of you is a demon

. There's a guy who could see the future

Kaito is surprised at something he sees in this scene but we don't learn what it is. This chapter's 'preview' is one of the scenes we see in the very beginning. Blood and a Lily.

I believe that the first thread is foreshadowing and will . After you meet your chosen guy standing on the railing you get a line of dialogue (or not if you picked Towa) that changes depending on who you picked. Some imply that what they're doing is going to save you(Jiro, Zenji and Sho), some apologize stating that they could protect what they cared about until the very end (Luca,Kaito,Haru and Yuri) but three characters caught my attention

Leo: Life sucks and then you die,right? I just want to make the assholes responsible regret it.

Ren: This is exactly why I didn't to do this! I knew this was how it was going to end.

Subaru: This is all my fault. I don't expect you to forgive me, but this is the least I can do. Please take this as my final act of good faith.

Especially Subaru's and Ren's, that seemingly imply either the MC's (Ren's) or their (Subaru) involvement in the current situation. Now what does this has to do with a potential uprising?

One of the things we learn from the very beginning is the inter-politics of the houses and by extension the ghouls. Especially after the fallout of the clash. Things are pretty tense and an uprising or rebellion seems to be the most likely thing.

As to what happened and why? I have no clue. Though one thing to note is that according to the prophecy, as long as the ghouls are in Darkwick, they prevent a disaster from coming. If Darkwick is destroyed however, the prophecy can't be fulfilled, or can it?"

This is such a good theory too, I really think u/imonlybr16 has probably gotten a lot of things right.

Although it's weird that death is such a big threat to us specifically, but maybe the Academy can't prevent death by curses, much like the Mesmer Matches dont work on someone who's cursed. Hhmm...