#king's cage spoilers

[vampiremotif]

mattson gives what can only be described as bare-ass, raw-dogged, elementary school bully level homophobia and it takes kendall like 45 minutes to come up with the earth-shattering response of: that’s kinda homophobic man

[ball-of-butter]

the moment where mare realises both calore brothers chose the crown over her and her people<<<<

[binomaly]

Obsessed with that clip we got of the monstrous Baron mini I need more of that little freak

[lilyharvord]

Once again I am screaming and crawling up the walls like Evil Dead over the fact that all the electricons grabbed onto Mare in Harbor Bay when she saw Cal’s body and the healer trying to resuscitate him.

Like everyone around her (except for her) knew her dumb ass was so in love with him that if he died she was going to go off like a fucking bomb and kill all of them and to avoid that they literally were fully prepared to either knock her out with their own ability or contain hers as much as possible.

Which just leads me to believe that if he had died, like if the healer had failed and he had died on the sand Mare would have turned immediately to Iris’s war ship and we would have gotten the duel of the fucking century. Because Iris would have been fighting to just survive and Mare would have been blindly fighting to kill at all costs in as painful of a manner as possible. And she would have taken so many lakelanders and nortian soldiers with her. So tbh, if Dane/the Scarlet Guard was smart, they would have let Cal die in that moment and they could have ended the whole thing in Harbor Bay.

[fluffypotatey]

We are not going to crucify you Fluffy, if anything we think you're going to stab us lol. Okay I wanted to give you a parody of 'Wouldn't You Like' for Nines to help you feel better and decided to watch the last 3 episodes to see what in the heck Nines was blabbing about and uh. OKAY HOLD ON I WAS JOKING THAT MK BECAME THE NEW JADE EMPEROR I DIDN'T THINK HE WOULD ACTUALLY- and did Nines straight up DEVOURER THESE GUYS BODIES SOUL AND ALL. We didn't ACTUALLY think Macaque's shadows ate him did we?! It was just a "well the raccoon might have stolen it!" out of all other options and reasonable explanations kind of guess heLLO. WHY does Nines move here function so much like the Shadow Lantern?!?!?! *grabs Macalculus by the scruff and shakes him* WERE YOU DOING THIS THE WHOLE TIME. I'M WITH NINES HERE WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT POWER- I wonder if Nines has some...kind of backlash from staying behind in the previous reincarnation cycle? Presumably? Kinda wild fic angst if him and Wukong rlly were friends in a past life LOL. I see this Monkey has a type. Wonder if that backlash is why he doesn't react when Macky steals his power. It feels like the same old pain from being away from the chaos for so long. I bet those aren't his natural powers either. *nods* I see his whole deal tho. He wanted to be free, but stayed behind for the others. And then ended up stuck here. He hates people being put in the cage of destiny, which MK was to him, with others expectations on what he should do being imposed on him by his friends <- clear past issues here and Nuwa. And then MK says there isn't really a choice, which sounds like he's saying "I'm still trapped, there IS no open cage. No other option." which you'd THINK Nines would get ticked at, but he just sighs and accepts it, freeing his friends to talk. The only reason he's so pushy about them rejecting MK's sacrifice is because that was HIS choice and Nines already decided his last act in this world was going to be respecting MK's choice. It's not so much chaos, but individuality hmm. He's that textbook case of someone having trauma from watching someone fail (real or in failing to understanding another's perspective and situation) and trying to save another person in a similar situation to make up for it. Leaning towards the second type, like when your parents don't understand you so you latch onto friends to understand you instead. That's him latching onto MK and understanding the beauty of chaos and that he's ~ not ~ a monster. That's why he repeats twice he doesn't care what MK does. "I'm not letting you take this from him." Sounds personal there. Someone take something from you before? I bet the whole respecting choices things also comes people not accepting that he wanted to live in the chaos.In a way, he wanted better for MK than what he got.

If MK thought for two minutes why Nine said he was returning to chaos either way 😭 maybe we could've avoided this whole "race to sacrifice myself first." Because it was pointless. Nines even pulls the "I told you" on him and tries to hype him up for being gallant and pursuing his own choice asdfghjkl this guy. read the room, he's super hooked on it huh. Lol, I guess he thinks "dying together holding hands at the end of the world" is beautiful, I mean maybe in an unavoidable tragic story if people are looking for that bittersweetness but not here fam. Well I guess it was beautiful in the context of restructuring the imposted narrative. "If there was a way to save everyone, I would have." HMM. "You did what I couldn't, what I had given up on." okay I gotcha. So, this "he" who is winning, because all LMK villains apparently have some cryptic information they need to share, Did A Thing(tm) so Nines stopped whatever "hero" act he was going to do, that would ensure everybody got to live and he got to return to the chaos. A compromise, but also pulling the biggest case of that two finger salute and disappearing act. Nines was really like "aight imma dip out and live in my funky new realm alone forever." He's not that bad, just has an interesting way of thinking I want to psychoanalyze the cause for lol, it's in the way he's genuinely trying to be soothing to MK that he did everything he could and not manipulative. The reason he flips out so much is because repairing the pillar in a way that STOPS the cycle should have been impossible. Either the sky shattered and the chaos realm came crashing in, or the reincarnation cycle came now and he got be born back to where he wanted to be. But this? This cleaned up the cracks so there was no cycle and no cracks to leave from. Not exactly why he hung back instead of dipping. Once upon a time, he might have wanted to stop the cycle, "be a hero" but whatever that was, it seems to have locked him into the mortal realm forever. He could have left through the cracks the second the pillar of heaven shattered, but I guess some traumatized part of him really needed the closure of having his last act be freeing the harbinger of chaos. Lol almost like MK is your distant relative in chaos, gee kinda like Hermes and Ody huh. I better write that one down. I also love how he restructures the idea of MK being "down on his knees to accept his fate" but he "chose to stand up to meet his end together." *shakes him* WHAT HAPPENED IN YOUR HISTORY BRO TO THINK LIKE THIS. I know he explained it but still!! something something context matters and taking control of the situation to recontextualize so that YOU have the power in what feels inevitable is returning agency back to the person something something allegory of the cave asdfghjkl-

oh my god this guy gives me plot headaches because like, on the surface, i get him. but the more i think about Nines and his motivations i just get confused

like ok, sure, you wanted to give MK the chance to live life and make his own choice before the inevitable. question: why the FUCK did you wake him so fucking early then bro???? we’re you growing impatient and wanted to reunite with the Chaos Beyond pronto? or did this “he” dude push on the cycle’s end coming sooner?

Nines not only woke MK up early, but he pushed along the events that would lead to the Pillar fracturing. and this is all in the span of about twenty years, which, if imma be honest, isn’t a lot of time for MK to really live out his life. his life has barely started!!! he’s not even middle aged and he’s barely an adult!!! MK only began to obtain his abilities a couple or so years before s5’s events!!!

so, Nines, what the fuck is your deal in pushing MK to make his “destiny” decision this early? how impatient did you get? or who requested this come sooner since you are, apparently, not the true man behind the curtain?

also, the whole “I’ll be free anyway” just confused me more because whyyyyyyyyyyyy did you speedrun the apocalypse if you will get what you want anyway???? no matter the factor, Nines would always find himself back at the Chaos Beyond, so why go through with any of this? i can understand wanting to give MK a choice (and no matter the choice you will still win, but maybe have insight on what you couldn’t or wouldn’t do), but what i don’t is the fact that he speedran all of this.

Nines could have woken MK up when the cycle was closer to its end. he could have woken MK up 100 years or even 50 years before the end of the cycle in order to give MK a chance at life. instead, he woke MK up eons before he needed to fulfill his role (also, if Nines hadn’t interfered further, would MK end up becoming immortal because of his role as the Harbinger?) and i just— ???????

he makes my brain hurt and all i can hope for is that lmk will explain this further in future seasons

[3-frogs-in-a-trenchcoat]

WAIT. IS EDA AND LILITH'S HIDEOUT JUST A ROOM IN THE COLLECTOR'S CASTLE AND NOT IN THE FOREST OUTSIDE??? WHAT.

[time-is-restored]

more whinging bc i got negative hours of sleep last night and i need to stay awake somehow lol

cw: discussions of misogyny + abuse

god the more i think abt it the more exhausted i get by the gender politics of ted lasso.

like god i do genuinely think that rebecca's arc in s1 is one of the best depictions of a mean + cruel woman ive ever seen on TV specifically bc it manages to thread the needle so well? like they never tilt her balance too much and doom her to being either totally fucked up + evil OR totally soft and sweet and harmless. and ted's 'divorce makes u crazy' response to her apology STILL makes me crazy wrt the sheer. understanding and empathy there, and she's just. given so much more depth than ive come to expect, especially for an ensemble cast sitcom w a (then) p short run time.

but my fucking god. we literally don't learn a fucking thing about michelle. im pretty sure the one (1) concrete thing we know about her comes in the fucking finale, and it's that she's a teacher for... something. the two most important people in ted's life and we don't know anything abt them! they're literally just empty symbols representing the importance of Family™, and that vacancy does nothing but weigh ted's storyline down!

like, i liked michelle's episode/storyline in s1, bc the blinding novelty of a woman instigating a divorce not being the Actual Devil, as well as a just. generally very empathetic + nuanced take on how divorce shakes out between two ppl who really care for each other, was so 'WAIT TV CAN DO THIS??' that i felt satisfied with that being Her Arc™. divorce happens, life happens, people fall out of love, and it hurts but its ultimately okay. the show, at the time, was ultimately abt a football club and how caring abt that football club helped everyone around it.

but then the show sticks around, and her continued absence just... raises a lot of questions? how did the conversation abt ted going overseas happen? what conversations did they have abt henry? how long term was it intended to be? did money really not factor into it all? like it's one thing for a character's backstory to be vague when it's not really the focus of attention (s1 was ultimately rebecca's story before anyone else's), but when it's the load bearing stone of their '''''''arc''''''' in s3...????

like. god. and then it fucking infects every other woman on the show!

sassy + nora? well sure we'll give you a softball - you can have one (1) scene where a woman is able to resolutely and firmly reject a man asking her out without immediately being seen as cruel or gameplayey (not that the audience will see it that way! she's already a lecherous temptress for them!), but neither of them will ever be able to speak to rebecca onscreen again, even after the heart-wrenching scenes in s1 CLEARLY establishing them as a beating heart of rebecca's arc.

shandy? nope, don't even think abt her motivations/drives, just forget her. simi? LMAOOO imagine a black woman getting a personality beyond righteous anger. jack? three-four episodes, and we learn so little abt her that her conflict with keeley - which SHOULD'VE have been a huge emotional beat - just feels like a kick in the teeth (and while, yes, i absolutely agree that in a real world context, jack's rejection of keeley would be largely motivated by class, in Ted Lasso Land™ rebecca is just as rich - if not richer? - and we're never once encouraged to interrogate her priorities).

barbara's the one that really makes me miserable, bc i feel like on a show with less run time, she could've played REALLY well. she's a great contrast to keeley, has an amazing delivery, and the scene where keeley + her first discuss the snowglobes shows that she has the potential for some really moving vulnerability + pathos. but instead they give SO many of keeley's scenes to characters who ultimately get written out, so when barbara stays it's like... okay? sure? like, i was so stoked that barbara survived the Mass Exodus of side characters that i didn't wanna look the gift horse in the mouth but... wasn't the last thing we saw of her and keeley's relationship like. general resentment + distrust abt the shandy debacle? when did that improve? how???

i don't think i'll ever have enough mental real estate to explain how disappointed keeley + rebecca's 'arcs' in s3 made me, and at least there's the saving grace that. virtually no one other than jamie got a coherent arc this season, so at least it was on some levels an egalitarian screw up. but fuck dude. keeley was just forced to react to bad things that were happening to her, and we got to see her do her job (which, unbelievably, does actually involve things other than being an awkward manager!) precisely one (1) time.

i even like rebecca's arc on paper - i think it's really cool to see a character backslide so intensely in terms of obsessing over and struggling to come to terms w a past relationship, especially an abusive one, bc like. yeah! that shit sticks with you for longer than a season! and beyond that, seeing her regain her sense of self and what SHE actually gives a shit about was oftentimes just as sweet as s1. but her scenes were poorly connected, and she had to carry WAY too much of a burden as the Resident Speech Giver for any of her internal characterisation to make sense. like, sorry, but it's kind of hard to believe a character's Going Through It™ when they have to spent near 100% of their screen time giving Take It From Me, Kid, speeches. and then she's not even given a real opportunity TO fuck up + sabotage her relationships, even when she starts getting really weird w ted! it's all just so meaningless and like nothing that she does is ever going to matter. she never speaks to zava again, we don't get to see her interact w bex or kate, her pleas to ted get COMPLETELY shut down...

but the thing that REALLY makes me sick is this complete lack of interiority absolutely butchers the characters of jade + jane, who are otherwise RIFE with potential. like, jade is a completely unflinching, unapologetic asshole to nate + his family, and that's never interrogated. even in Sitcom Land™, it's more than reasonable to view jade's actions as racist, especially when she doesn't give the same treatment to others (at least not as i recall? honestly i usually watch the taste of athens scenes while peeking out behind my hands, so i could 100% be wrong here). and yet, suddenly, and completely inexplicably, she's charmed by nate. she wants to give him the time of day. she finds him attractive, and wants to date him, and generally take control of his life and force him into a decision that is literally the exact opposite of what he expressed wanting to do. except even that LAST thing isn't allowed to be interrogated, bc god FORBID a woman is enough of a fully realised creation to actually be culpable of the terrible shit they do!

and fucking jane??? beard's so head-over-heels for this woman that the emotional abuse + extremely controlling tendencies don't even make him bat an eye, and we don't get to know anything about her? she's literally just the suggestion of an alluring woman! good at sex! good at chess! fuck you if you wanna know more, even though the show ENDLESSLY hits you over the head with how painful their relationship is for beard - beard who is given virtually no other storyline. like, i literally can't read brendan's refusal to label jane as abusive as anything other than like. that bio-essentialism shit where ppl 'women are better than men <3' so hard that they end up genuinely and wholeheartedly arguing that someone's sex defines their morals - or worse, that their sex is a deciding factor in determining whether someone's actions are good or bad. not context, but a legitimate 'add points if woman, take away points if man' variable.

like that's so feminism 101 it's legitimately almost worse than nothing. that's like getting as far as 'hey so you know how we're all inundated with both implicit + explicit messaging abt what is Valued and Good for women vs men to-' before shoving ur earplugs in and going 'if you are oppressed by society we'll automatically stamp a 'good person' label on ur head and now we don't have to think abt any of our biases + internalised beliefs ever again <333'. the most useless and fucking pointless stand against the patriarchy ever, especially coming from the same show that ENDLESSLY slots characters into the 'loving gf/wife' archetype and then give them Literally Nothing Else. my comrades you have literally just done madonna/whore 2: oops all madonnas! this is not liberation!!!! this is a miserable cage!!!!!!!!!

im just. higgins' wife. mae. trent's daughter and anonymous 'her'. the women at the hotel and the restaurants and the firm and the fucking physios, fuck - dani's gfs! who are they? what do they want? where do they go when the camera stops rolling? can anyone hear me?? hello??? hello???? brendan hunt i am OUTSIDE YOUR HOUUUUUUSE

[t-u-i-t-c]

kaguragi letting suzume go to be with racules and not be burdened with being his successor, accepting that she has her own dreams separate from his own, vs rita accepting morfonia wholly as their successor and acknowledging that they believe she can overcome any difficulties the position may present

[murdererofthumbs]

I’m not even going to try to talk about Roman’s breakdown in this episode, because frankly I can’t go through this scene without having to pause it every 5 seconds, just to take a breath (I think it’s the keening, whimpering noise that he makes that just pierces something in me).

But I wanted to talk about some people who comment on this scene saying that Roman deserved this, that they were laughing through that scene, that it’s karma for being a piece of shit in the last episode. And… should you really be watching this show (or any other mature show, with any layers, for that matter) if you see a character that was clearly abused (in the family that is so twisted and dysfunctional it’s likely only held together by the scrapes of their shared company) and laugh at this, honestly heart-wrenching, meltdown? Are you not capable of critical thinking or do you not understand what this show is about? The poison drips through. It’s a relay, hurt people hurt other people, and when you grew up in the constant dog fight, when it was beat out of you to show any emotions and behave like a human being and lying, manipulating, and destroying other people was rewarded with the biggest gift of them all - the affection of your father… well then how do you fucking expect for them to behave any other way? I’m not saying that because Roman had a shit childhood, therefore it’s okay for him to treat other people awfully. I’m just saying that the whole point of this show is that human beings are not two dimensional cardboard cutouts; you don’t just get a “good” or “evil” stapled on your forehead, people have layers and feelings and past experiences which shape who they are. And living in a bubble with a monster that you love more dearly than anything else might turn you into that monster, but somehow worse (and Roman is essentially a broken mirror of Logan, or what Logan used to be - a tantrum child, sent away and sick with guilt and shame, and abused for something he had no control over; he is Logan junior, a weak dog before he bit his way to the throne).

I think that watching all Roy siblings go through periods of being despicable, which are intertwined with showcasing their pain, and hurt, and trauma, is what makes this show so fascinating. Because they cannot fully be like Logan. Somehow even Logan was not actually that high above the ground as he wished himself to be, some part of him permanently tainted with the guilt over his sister’s death. And some people laughing at the, frankly extremely tangible, emotions portrayed by Roman in this episode are just a bit baffling to me. It’s a lack of empathy and understanding of people, wrapped up in the pretence of protecting their leftist ideology (which I’m sure we all personally share, obviously). Yet again, I find it pointless to judge morality of characters who by nature don’t actually have much of moral compass (because t’s a show about bad people doing bad things?). Them being somewhat awful for the country is really a baseline, or rather a foundation of the show, but it’s not all of it. The heart is actually the family dynamics, and people getting stuck on calling out karma, or keeping score of who was less moral during certain episode takes away from the rich variety of complex emotional conflicts that happen between characters. Like honestly, what are you watching this show for?

Majority of fans thrive on analysing each and every character, but sometimes you get like a comment that is such a shallow analysis and overall a really L take (or reaction) that it blows me away. And kinda makes me doubt in some people’s capacity for empathy. Like, you see a character, a fool stereotype who always cracks jokes in serious situations, break down (for the first time in 4 fucking seasons) during his father funeral in front of whole fucking church. You listen to him keen like a dog, and whimper, and break down in half like a child, and you, what, laugh? Mock the real, tangible grief? How are you better than these characters then? As a viewer, we have a unique opportunity to not have to take a moral stand in our character choice, you can like and feel for people who are otherwise awful. There is literally no consequence because you don’t have to share ideology with fictional person to see them as complex, and interesting, and tragic. Reducing it to morality destroys the whole point of fiction. Be aware of what you’re watching, be aware that these are bad people and not just completely innocent “baby girls”, but like don’t fucking box yourself in these dumb moral wars, because there is so much more to this show.

Anyway, that was a bit of a rant, but it always strikes me when I see people having awful takes on complex characters (especially abused characters), and wish they would suffer (not even for personal angst reasons, more like vendetta, revenge fantasies), when really that is pushing it a bit too far.

[imjulia-andilikecats]

So here I am, casually watching The Owl house Season 3 episode 1 for the 15th time, and just noticed this...

Is that kid cosplaying Maven Calore from the Red Queen series?

WITH THE HAIR, CHEEKBONES, FUR CAPE AND EVEN THE EYE BAGS!!! MAVEN IS THAT YOU????!!!! 👀👀👀👀👀👀

[whirlingbadger]

The Kings Cage. Damn that was an INTENSE episode even despite knowing kinda, sorta, how things progress.

[poisonf0rest]

The Best Dreams Come in Threes

♱⋅── rafayel x reader x xavier

♱⋅── about: Rafayel and Xavier have always been there for you. One is your fire, your passion, the twin flame to your temper. The other is your light, a guiding beacon, your twin star. So when you have a nightmare, they take it upon themselves to comfort and remind you of their unconditional devotion. Even if it does lead to competition every now and then.

♱⋅── word count: 7.5k (mf...)

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, it's just nasty, threesome, jealousy, somnophilia, oral, pussydrunk boys, breeding kink, double penetration, slight spoilers

♱⋅── a/n: apologies to the two random strangers on the plane that I sat next to when the idea of this fic possessed me. I really, really hope you didn't read anything I was frantically writing down in the midst of me finishing my work report cause that shit was nasty.

art credit and inspiration due to the wonderful @/sakimenz

Lonely star, who do you shine for?

The weight of all your pasts- of all your futures- the guilt and pride you carry will only cause you to collapse, and all that will be left will be an all-consuming black hole. 

Your desperation won’t bring your sun back. 

Lonely king, don’t you know a kingdom devoid of life is a crown devoid of purpose?

You were the fire that left them, and all you have to show for the betrayal is a drowned memory and a heart wrenched from your chest, a broken promise and a forgotten story. 

You’ve changed with each lifetime, but you’ll forever be at the mercy of fate. 

And you? You’re the very curse that haunts them. 

Claws, so cold they burn, emerge from the darkness before piercing through flesh, tearing through muscle and bone as they dig into your ribcage, dragging you down into the shadows. Drowning, falling. You’re spiraling through lifetimes of failure, lifetimes of pain both your own and not, all while the claws dig closer and closer to your heart, clutching the muscle like a songbird in a cage. 

It’s the price, the price you must pay for all this pain you’ve caused, for dooming a star and killing a god. 

The clawed hand wraps around your heart, the piercing into the fluttering pulse faster and faster until—

You wake up crying. 

A hot trail of tears slides into the pillows, and a sniffle rakes through your body, the sudden movement causing a subtle disturbance to the two forms still sound asleep on either side of you. 

Funny, you can’t remember a thing, but there’s a painful throb in your chest. You’ll take another dose of your heart medicine in the morning. 

But for now, your bedroom is still dulled by the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains, and you’re in no hurry to get out of the warm covers and their embrace. 

The nightmares have become routine at this point. You never remember what they are, but you wake up with a sense of fear and dread, as though you can feel the pain all over again. It’s best not to think too much about it.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you inhale shakily one last time, trying to shake off the looming feeling when the arm around your waist shifts, tugging lightly at your loose sleep shirt before slipping under to massage the skin beneath. You let out a soft sigh, a light shudder going through your body as the gentle hands work away the tension.

“The same?” Rafayel’s words are slurred with sleep and concern, hot breath dancing along the crook of your neck as he props himself up on his elbow. You nod.

Rafayel makes a small, displeased noise before his other arm pulls you closer, his bare chest now flush against your back. The sudden movement forces Xavier, who was once tucked against your shoulder, further away, grumbling at the loss even in his sleep.

His face scrunches, brows furrowed together before the corners of his lips turn downward, and he blindly reaches for you. He eventually finds the curve of your waist, and his hand tightens on the fabric of your shirt as it slides in above Rafayel’s.

A huff, and Xavier buries his face back into your chest, his warm breath tickling you. And then, gentle snores— you should've known better than to think that would be enough to wake him.

Rafayel, still pressed firmly against your back, begins to move, propping his body up just enough to look you in the eyes as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. "Wanna talk about it, cutie?"

“I… I think you were there, both of you. But it felt lonely, painful.”

Rafayel's face contorts into a worried expression, his hand moves down your cheek, cupping your jaw, and you lean into his warm caress with a sigh.

You place a kiss on his palm. "It's okay, just a scary dream. Nothing real. Nothing to worry about." You repeat it, more to yourself than Rafayel, but his arms wrap around you anyway.

And yet Rafayel looks at you with a deep furrow in his brow, a seriousness you’ve almost never seen on him.

You give him a questioning look, but his lips press to yours in a searing kiss, stealing the air from your lungs. He pulls away only for a second, whispering sweet nothings against your skin before returning his lips to yours, the hand cradling your face slipping down to rest on your hip.

He kisses you softly, gently. First pressing a trail of light, chaste kisses along your jaw, the corners of your mouth, and nose, then moving back to your lips. “We’ll never leave you. We’d tear through every universe, every destiny to get back to you.”

Strange, how Rafayel says it with all the reverence of a vow. 

You want to tease him for the sudden declaration, for making all this fuss over a stupid dream, but you never have the opportunity, not when Rafayel's signature smirk settles back onto his lips. 

His hand slides down to your thighs, fingers teasing around the band of your sleep shorts, toying, pressing, but never crossing the self-imposed boundary of your clothes. “Unless, you’d prefer it if I proved it to you?”

“Rafayel,” you warn, hoping your narrowed glare would dissuade him.

Of course the man only seems to take that as a challenge, smile widening as you flinch at the cold touch creeping under your shirt. One palm traces up your ribcage, long, nimble fingers rubbing circles against your skin until he brushes the underside of your breast. 

You shudder, hissing out another string of curses before turning around so your back is to Rafayel. 

Really, you should know better than to think that alone would be enough, and a hot trail of kisses now joins his wandering hands down your shoulder blade. They start innocent enough, sweet, lingering touches along the hem of your shirt, but that quickly changes when Rafayel’s arm under your shirt practically yanks it up, sucking wet, messy kisses into the bare curves of your chest.

Each nip against your sensitive flesh forces the possibility of sleep further and further away, and you resort to distracting yourself with the motionless silhouette of Xavier. Petting through his hair, your rhythm is jolted every time Rafayel decides to leave a mark, nails pulling through Xavier’s locks as you bite your lip on a moan.

You don't miss the curve of his smirk against your skin, and the next kiss is accompanied by a bite, hard enough to elicit a sharp gasp that stirs Xavier. Tense, you scan the blonde's face, but he's nothing if not a heavy sleeper, and he nuzzles further into your touch, still unconscious as his head tucks under yours.

You don't get to sigh in relief. Instead, a whine builds in your throat, the wet heat of Rafayel's teeth tugging on the strap of your underwear as he fists your sleep shorts down.

"Rafayel, stop it,” you hiss as his hot breath hits the already embarrassingly damp center of your underwear.

His smile grows, lips brushing against your clothed core as he tilts his head. “Hmm? But you don’t sound like you want me to stop. And she certainly doesn’t sound like it either.” Two fingers dip under the band, and he parts your cunt with a lewd click.

Your face flushes in embarrassment, refusing to acknowledge just how easily your body gives in to them. One hand leaves Xavier, roughly fisting into Rafayel’s curls as he groans from the sharp pressure. “That’s because you and Xavier refused to wear protection!” 

The accusation earns a hushed laugh, his shoulders shaking against the insides of your thighs. It would have been innocent, the same contagious sort of smile gracing Rafayel’s face, if not the shadows cast across his face in the dark, teeth gleaming like fangs as he traces his tongue up the entire length of your clothed cunt. 

"M’sorry, we thought you'd enjoy the mess," he says, words muffled over your thighs, nose practically buried in between. "How can I make it up to you, cutie?”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not when Rafayel’s tongue dives into your clothed cunt, moaning against the soaked fabric as you gasp and force him closer by his hair. To muffle his sounds, you tell yourself. A pathetic lie considering how much louder he gets now, nose grinding up against your clit as his tongue tries to press into your fluttering cunt even with the barrier of cloth in between. 

God, he’s addicted, and it doesn’t take long until Rafayel’s spit and your slick soak through your underwear, the near-translucent fabric sticking to your lips as the bare minimum friction nearly drives you insane. 

“Say it,” Rafayel whines, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Please, just tell me how badly you want me. Tell me, and I’ll do anything you ask.”

Like he wouldn’t already.

But how could you ever deny him when he begs so sweetly? 

Your palm cups his face, watching his near-wrecked expression and flushed skin tremble beneath your fingers.  “I’m yours, Rafayel.”

And the fabric is ripped into pieces. 

Refusing to even breathe, Rafayel places an opened-mouth kiss on your cunt, lapping up your slick with the most satisfied moan. He doesn't waste any time, not while your confession coated his mind with the sweetest type of intoxication, eating you out like he was depraved.

He might as well have been with how he moans, hips grinding desperately against the edge of the mattress, his not-entirely human tongue curling in and out of you as it writhes with terrifying accuracy against your walls.

It feels too good to be ashamed of the noises you make, gasping and crying out until you slam your palm over your mouth, biting down hard as the other claws into Rafayel’s hair. You can barely control yourself, half fighting to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, half rocking your hips up and down his face as you jerk him closer. 

“Mhm, greedy.” Fucked-out, broken little grunts leave his throat before his words are muffled into your cunt, not baring to part for even a breath. “Pull on it, please. Harder.” 

You tug Rafayel’s hair almost in vengeance when he purposefully kisses away from where you need him most, licking and sucking obscenely into your thighs just to hear your frustrated cries even over your hand. 

He loved being used like this, so long as it was you. 

So long as it was him that turned you into such a beautiful, pathetic mess. 

It's not long until Rafayel pulls you close to the edge, nose pressing against your clit while thrusting his tongue into you, eyes rolling back from the taste and from the thought of your tight heat fluttering around his cock instead. 

And then, he stops, pulling away and leaving you gasping into the tear-stained pillow.

You bite back a sob, releasing only a choked little noise that has Rafayel's eyes flicking up to your face, the soft, concerned look in his eyes melting into something far more dangerous.

With viciously dilated pupils and your slick dripping from his mouth, Rafayel stares you down as every inch the dangerous siren the legends claimed him to be. He smiles, tongue raking over his teeth as though he couldn’t get enough of your taste, and you swear you’d let him eat your heart and soul. Gods, you’d let him eat you whole. 

You realize you must have made a sound, because Rafayel hushes you, pressing quick kisses to your knee. "Aw, what happened to being quiet? Aren't you afraid we'll wake the poor sleeping bunny?" 

At the mention of your other partner, you turn to where Xavier’s nuzzling his face further into your side, each warm breath damp against your feverish skin, still lost to the realm of dreams.

Not that Rafayel allows your attention to turn away from himself for too long. 

He leans over Xavier, the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight cupping your face, and his lips are crashing into yours with all the viciousness of a summer seastorm. Your lips part, and Rafeyel fucks his tongue into your mouth the same he did your pussy, wet and desperate, the taste of yourself enough to make you dizzy. 

"Tell me,” Rafayel’s tone dips into something darker, kissing down your throat and stomach as he eyes Xavier. “Who’s the better lover?" 

Xavier's fingers flex, the tips brushing against the curve of your breast as he sleeps, and Rafayel's smile is almost predatory.

"D-don't ask stupid questions you dumb fish," your voice cracks as Rafayel's mouth ghosts over your cunt, teeth bared to your thigh, threatening to bite. "I chose you both."

The confession, as expected, doesn't please him. If anything, he seems overly offended, pouting and huffing a cold breath of air right against your aching core. The chill makes you squirm, trying to force him back to your center with the grip you have on his hair.

"No. Nope. That's not an answer."

"Raf–"

His name breaks off in a moan, sound ripped from your throat as Rafayel's thumb starts rubbing firm circles around your neglected clit. He doesn't relent, the pressure too much, too quick, your body already trembling from the pleasure Rafayel knows how to torture you with.

Only, it seems that all your sudden noise and movement have finally begun to affect Xavier. Not enough to wake him, but enough that you can hear his breathing become heavier, following your every twitch and buck from Rafayel’s onslaught as his body begins to grind into yours.

Mumbling into your neck, Xavier’s hand tightens around your waist before slipping under your shirt to palm your breasts, squeezing and kneading until the touch has you keening.

Xavier's still fast asleep, nonsensical words slurred against your skin, and yet his body is now far from it. His erection is thick and heavy against your hips, grinding desperately into your warmth almost in time to Rafayel’s ministrations, whimpering under his breath with every forceful thrust. 

Rafayel notices too, his gaze drifting up to the blond. You can't see his face, already busied between your legs once more, but a pleased hum vibrates through his entire body, fingers finally slipping into your cunt as he curls them just right, your back arching off the sheets with a silent scream. 

Xavier whines at your sudden thrashing, tugging you closer and unknowingly forcing you immobile and at complete mercy to Rafayel’s unfairly skilled fingers. "Mhm, so warm. Please, m’want to..." Another needy, slow grind against you follows his sleepy request. 

"Rafayel," you choke out a muffled plea, but his eyes only narrow, taking a breath as his free hand grabs at Xavier's ass, the touch just light enough to tease and make him rut harder against you.

"What is it, cutie? Don't pretend like you don't want more, not when your pretty pussy's drooling for his cock. She’s so needy, am I not enough?”

Rafayel rests his head on the inside of your thigh, fingers thrusting roughly into that sweet spongy spot inside you just as his other hand wraps around the base of Xavier's cock through his boxers, thumbing over the pre-cum staining the dark fabric. 

You're forced to bite down on the pillow beneath your head to stop the desperate cry tearing itself out of your throat. "This isn’t- ah- isn’t right."

"Isn't it? You’re dripping and the little bunny’s still asleep, yet look how desperate he is, rutting against you." Rafayel's voice dips, a raspy edge from his throat still fucking into you making it even more sinful, slurping everything you give him around his fingers before it drips down his wrist and into a puddle below. A huff, “I should get rewarded with how much effort I’m putting in.”

You cry out, legs trembling as his thumb begins its relentless attack on your clit, tracing mindless circles just random enough to keep you on edge. You're close, and Rafayel can feel it.

Xavier isn’t faring much better, whimpering a string of incoherent pleas into the crook of your neck as his hips keep rocking into the fist around him. He doesn't take his mouth away from the skin of your shoulder, biting down on it as he cums, shuddering and whimpering as the mess splatters down Rafayel's knuckles and onto your thighs. 

“You’re next. If you won’t be honest with me, I’ll make your body is.” Rafayel’s taunt is the last coherent thing you remember before you come. Hard. His words ring against your skull as his fingers pump into you faster, and the pressure against your clit becomes almost unbearable, and you're falling apart, crying and thrashing, the only thing keeping you grounded is the feeling of Rafayel's weight and the scent of Xavier's strawberry shampoo, and then—

Rafayel finally shuts up to let you ride his face through your high, letting you use him as your thighs lock around his head, grinding desperately as though he were no more than a toy. No chance of breathing, no chance of escape. 

Not that he could care less, not as long as he could keep his lips around your gushing cunt, humming and sucking into your release as cum sprays over his tongue and down his chin. Gods, he could never get enough of this.

You're still shaking through your orgasm, pliant and stupid from the dizzying pleasure, that you don't notice the rustle of sheets until a second pair of hands slide down your thighs. 

"You’re doing this without me?" 

Xavier’s voice is a whisper, husky from sleep and his orgasm as he presses a kiss right below your ear, fingers squeezing rougher against your breasts.

"S-sorry. Didn't want to wake you," you try, biting back a gasp when his thumb flicks over a nipple. Rough. Mean. 

Rafayel snorts. "I think it's a bit too late for that.” A glare at Xavier over your leg, showing off your cum still dripping from his lips and fingers. ”Besides, I didn't need you."

You want to argue, really, but then Xavier is grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging just hard enough to push your head back, coaxing a moan from your throat as he marks down your neck with kisses intending to bruise. He’s pouting, grabbing your jaw as he forces your gaze away from Rafayel, nipping your bottom lip until you surrender to his drowsy advances.

“Why…” Another kiss before Xavier's licking desperately into your mouth, “Why didn't you wake me?"

The question comes out a little breathless, almost petulant, eyes hooded and dark as he looks over the mess Rafayel has made of you. He can't tear his eyes away, watching Rafayel even as he kisses you. His fingers flick over your nipple again, twisting and pinching until you're shaking, your thighs squeezing Rafayel's face, all while Xavier watches.

Said man only smiles, all smug arrogance. "Didn't you hear her, Xav? She said she didn't want to wake you, so don't blame me."

Rafayel drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss over your cunt, the overstimulation making you break the kiss with a gasp.

"Liar." Xavier's voice trembles, and you can't tell if he's referring to Rafayel's words, or the way he's staring longingly at Rafayel's lips now, still slick with your release. "You just wanted her all to yourself."

He doesn't bother giving Rafayel a chance to retort, taking the punishment out on you as he dips his head underneath your folded-up shirt, groaning as his hot tongue rolls over your nipple, sucking at the stiff peak as his hand continues to assault the other. The onslaught has you whimpering, pushing and clawing against Xavier’s shoulder to try and fight him off as he refuses to let go for even a moment. 

Rafayel's not one to be ignored, not when he has the advantage, and his tongue is back to fucking into your cunt with no reprieve, a cruel smirk on his face as you writhe and beg for their mercy.

Your hips roll, torn between pleasure and oversensitivity, unable to escape either of the men. It's overwhelming. Too much, too quickly, you only just came and you're already getting dragged back.

"Ah! Stop, I'm already mhm—"

You're interrupted by Xavier's tongue slipping into your mouth, a filthy, lazy slide that makes you grind up into Rafayel's tongue. It's like he doesn't even need to breathe, the wet, sloppy sounds of him eating you out drowned out only by the sound of Xavier kissing you senseless, pausing just to nip and suck at your breasts as though he'll get rewarded if he just tries hard enough. 

"You want him to stop? Is the mermaid not enough to satisfy you, princess?" Xavier taunts, lips brushing against your ear as his hips push up, grinding his cock against your thigh. "If that's the case, perhaps we should switch. I can give you exactly what you want, remember?"

“Shut up, I’m the one making her cum.”

“Only cause I wasn’t awake yet.”

“You snooze, you lose. Whose fault is that? Oh ya, yours.” 

They're at each other's throats yet again, practically clawing and snapping at each other, and you're helpless to try and intervene when they take their faux anger out on your poor abused body. 

You can't think, can't focus, can't do anything but shake and pant and sob into the pillow, their combined weight on top of you, forcing your pleasure higher and higher. 

“Xav—" He cuts you off with a kiss. 

“Shh, just take it."

You can't even tell who’s sloppier anymore- Xavier fucking your mouth with his tongue or Rafayel still eating you through your second orgasm, the sudden hit of it thundering down your body. 

“You look so pretty when you come," Xavier moans into your lips, his eyes half-lidded and glazed, hand coming up to stroke your cheek as he watches you, a sharp contrast to the other still rolling against your swollen nipple, loving the way you jerk into his touch. Then a glare to the man below. "My turn.”

Your body is still trembling, Rafayel's merciless fingers not allowing you to come down from your high, aftershocks of hypersensitivity crashing down your spine as every muscle spasms. No more. No more, please. You can’t possibly come again. 

You don't realize you’re begging out loud, not until Xavier shushes you with another bruising kiss. 

But it doesn't seem like Rafayel has any plans on stopping, not until Xavier’s hand skims down your thighs and yanks him up by the chain of his necklace. 

Rafayel growls as he's practically forced off your weeping cunt, eyes bleary and unfocused as he fights the blond's grip. And god, he looks absolutely wrecked, spit and cum dripping from his mouth and chin, connecting his lips to your pussy in sticky wet strands before they break, and you feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against his soaked boxers. 

Xavier yanks him forward, pulling the necklace chain until he crashes his lips onto Rafayel's, all teeth and tongue, desperate to get a taste of your cum from his mouth. It's filthy, and Rafayel is the first to give in, still drunk off your taste and now Xavier's too.

"Mhm, you taste like her," Xavier whispers, pulling him closer until their bodies are pressed together, his mouth still moving against Rafayel's swollen, parted lips.

"Ya?" Rafayel’s grin is predatory, all fang and sin. "You wanna try too, don’t you? Give in then, bunny, lie down for us.”

"I don't take orders from you." 

Xavier scowls against Rafayel's lips, but you can feel his resolve breaking, his arm trembling where it rests against your thigh. 

"No, you take them from her, and she asked us so, so nicely to make her come. You wouldn't dare deny her that, would you?”

The Lemurian is nothing if not dangerously persistent, one hand coaxing Xavier backward so gently you don’t think he realizes how easily he’s falling, the other clawing down his abs as Rafayel bites against the erratic thud of Xavier’s pulse. Sharp and bruising, a silent promise for what to come. "Or do you wanna eat her out like I did? Have her ride your face while I fuck into her poor, desperate cunt? I can't decide, there are so many options."

“No.” It’s more a plea than a demand. Xavier's voice shakes with need, and you watch, dizzy and panting, as Rafayel's fingers slip underneath the waistband of Xavier's boxers. His fingers, still dripping with your cum, brush down the length of his cock, thumb circling the sensitive head and smearing the copious amount of pre-cum leaking from it. “You had y-your turn.” 

He can hardly finish his objection, not when Rafayel’s thumb comes up to abuse his leaking slit, Xavier’s words slurring into a desperate whine as he practically collapses back onto his elbows. Immediately, Rafayel is atop him.

"A competition, then." Rafayel leans down to whisper into Xavier's ear, but the words are purposefully teased out loud enough for you to hear, “But you lose if you cum first, and I get to fuck her.”

It's a low blow, a challenge he knows Xavier can't turn down. 

A challenge that somehow has you poised once again as the torment and the reward.

And it's true, because the second the words register, the blond's eyes shoot open, and his cock jerks violently against Rafeyel’s palm, a broken sound leaving his lips as his eyes lock back onto yours with all the promise of a starving hunter.

"Deal.”

Xavier doesn't allow the agreement to go without a price. Something snaps, the bedroom flickering with a sudden darkness as all the light vanishes. 

One moment, you’re lying against the bed, and the next Xavier manhandles you to your knees, one hand forcing your arms behind your back as he tugs you against him, the other pinning Rafayel to the mattress.

Rafayel’s the very picture of smug sin, the feral expression far more genuine, less threatening and much more amused as he nestles further into the pillows, one arm tucked lazily behind his head. 

Cold fingers dance up your hips, and Rafayel drags your bare cunt over his thighs and onto his lap, a pleased sigh escaping his lips as you're pinned deliciously between his cock and Xavier's sculpted back.

"So needy, little bunny."

"Shut up. I'm not the one who's leaking."

Rafayel snorts, and before the two can start fighting again, you're leaning forward, a hand resting against Rafayel's abs as you cup his erection through his boxers. And when he moans you believe every myth, every fairytale singing the doom of sailors to a siren song, because every sound he gives you is addictive and sweet enough that you’d drown to hear it again. 

Pulling Rafayel's cock out from his boxers, you’re stunned yet again by the slightly non-human beauty of it, heavy and thick in your palm, the flushed, ruddy tip already drooling precum as you thumb at it in vengeance. You know Xavier's watching from the way his own cock twitches against your back, hands digging bruises into your hips. Then, the warmth at your back disappears. 

Instead, a pair of hands drag your ass up, forcing you into a deep arch as you scramble for purchase against Rafayel’s thigh and the bed below.

“Closer.” Xavier’s hand laces into your hair as he pushes your head down, forcing your mouth to nuzzle against the base of Rafayel's cock. 

The movement pulls a gasp from both of you, your hot breath teasing the sensitive skin of Rafayel's shaft and forcing a shudder from his entire body. 

Seeing the two of you completely at his mercy does terrible, horrible things to Xavier, and his fingers dig bruises into your hips as it takes him everything not to forgo the competition and fuck you right there. 

"Good girl,” he hums, voice trembling as his grip tightens against your hair, giving you a harsh glare when you whine and squirm in his hold. "Now open."

You can't bring yourself to say no, not when the sight of Rafayel's eyes rolling back the second you do makes your stomach clench. His cock twitches against you as you lick at the copious amounts of cum leaking from his tip, then obediently wrap your lips around him.

With a smile that would have you shaking, Xavier leans down, barely able to continue guiding your head as he’s entranced with the mess between your legs, licking up the slick dripping down your thighs as he sucks against the delicate flesh, marking right over the sensitive bruises Rafayel had only just left behind. 

 “This- hah-” Rafayel curses under his breath, the single word breaking off into a moan, the sound muffled by his palm as his chest heaves. “This is hardly fair.”

But his complaints feel half-hearted, not with the way he’s already rutting into your mouth, Xavier’s iron grip keeping you in place as Rafayel thrusts himself into your mouth in one breath. You yield pathetically quick, flattening your tongue against the slick underside of his cock, another stream of pre-cum flooding your mouth as you nearly choke on it all, unable to pull off to even take a breath as Xavier guides your head up and down in a steady rhythm that has Rafayel falling apart. 

It’s cruel, but you can't help each pathetic moan that gets muffed onto Rafayel’s cock, the vibrations forcing his back to arch off the bed, head rolling back as it thuds against the pillows, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps in shallow breaths.

You almost wish he would let you see his eyes, but then you'd miss the view of his chest, every muscle tight and twitching under his skin, the mesmerizing sight now blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You can't resist reaching up, dragging your nails down his abs, watching his body jerk against every new line of red.

"Please,” you're not sure if the broken whimper belonged to Rafayel or yourself. “Please, I can't wait anymore, wanna feel you— fuck— wanna fill you up again, please let me cum." It's like just the very thought has Rafayel keening, his hips jerking up into your hot mouth with reckless abandon as Xavier forces your spine up into a deeper arch.

You're nearly bent in half, the new angle leaving no part of you hidden from Xavier's hungry gaze as he watches you practically drool over Rafayel’s cock, lips meeting his pelvis as he breaches your throat. 

Xavier’s going to win. He needs to win. 

The thought makes him frantic, tongue fucking past the tight resistance of your cunt, his hand sliding up to tease at your clit. He won't be the one to finish first, not this time. Not when he's wanted nothing more than to feel your cunt gushing around him ever since Rafayel woke him up, ever since the two of you had the audacity to start this without him.

Rafayel can’t last much longer, especially not when you bring one shaking hand down to massage his swollen balls, hardly in control of your own movements as you feel dizzy on the addictive combination from the lack of oxygen and pleasure as Xavier begins to eat you out like a man starved. 

The room’s filled with the sounds of each slick, messy movement, whimpers from the man beneath you and breathless pleas from the one behind, bed rattling with every thrust. 

And yet you’re still so painfully empty. So, so, empty as your cunt flutters around Xavier’s tongue before he relents to kiss your clit once more, dragging a dissatisfied whine from you as you fight yourself off Rafayel’s cock. 

"F-fuck me. Please," A sob, and you feel both Rafayel and Xavier shudder. "It’s not enough. Want your cocks inside me, wanna cum on it. Need it, please-"

Oh, and when you beg like that, they should have known they never would have stood a chance.

"Shit."

"Ah, please-"

It's a blur. A rush of hands, of pleasure and pain, all of it colliding and dragging you to the edge. The room spins, the ceiling above you falling until the familiar, comforting feeling of slick muscle embraces you, grounding you as you focus on the erratic heartbeat between each ragged exhale. 

You're still sandwiched between them, lying on Rafayel as Xavier's weight drapes across your back, head propped up on the former's chest as you stare blearily at his silver pendant, unable to move. You're not even sure if you can, not with the way Xavier's still gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading you open as he forces one leg higher up.

Then, the blunt head of his cock grinds between your folds.

Xavier’s pressing his forehead against your back, wrapping his arms around you before biting into the crook of your neck. "You mean it? You’ll let us come inside again?"

Rafayel laughs, a raspy sound still raw from his orgasm. "Well, we both lost. Now what, bunny? We can't just leave her like this, poor thing is trembling." 

"Mhm,” Xavier forces you up, “We both fuck her then."

His words only make you whimper, body jerking uselessly against Xavier's grip. His hands lift you as Rafayel flips you around so you're now facing the blond, flinching violently as his cock brushes your swollen clit, any semblance of protest quelled as Xavier pulls you into another messy kiss. 

It’s demanding, Xavier mumbling achingly sweet praises into your open mouth as he begins to press you down, faster, harsher, forcing you onto Rafayel’s lap in a reverse cowgirl as you slide down slowly, taking inch by inch of Rafayel’s throbbing cock. There’s hardly any blue left in Xavier’s blow-out pupils, too mesmerized by the slick mess you’re gushing down their thighs. And just when you begin to squirm, impatient and desperate, Xavier slows their pace even more.

"Shhh, we need to make sure you'll be able to take both of us."

Rafayel's hand is wrapped around your waist, thumb rubbing small circles into your stomach, and if it weren't for Xavier's arms locked around you, holding you upright, you would have collapsed the second Rafayel pressed into the spot his fingers had found.

"Look at you," he purrs, a low sound that has you gasping. "So pretty when you’re needy. Can you feel me?"

It's hard not to. Everywhere feels warm, and every slow thrust, no matter how gentle, has a small burst of ecstasy building in your stomach, a wave crashing higher and higher as the two of them slowly fuck you full. Just as you’re nearly seated all the way onto Rafayel’s length, Xavier’s palms come up to the back of your knees, folding them up and forcing you backward until you’re practically lying prone atop of Rafayel.

Your head lolls uselessly against Rafayel's neck, gasping at the force of the new position,  and you're not sure if it's the tears in your eyes or the overwhelming pressure against your walls as they stretch around his cock that's making the world so blurry. Xavier soon follows you down, pressing you closer into Rafayel’s chest as his lips trail your jaw, your neck, your sucking against every sensitive spot behind your ears until you're distracted from the pain.

"You're doing so good, princess. Just a little more."

The sudden onslaught of pressure of both of you atop him has Rafayel flinching, and he hisses out a pained moan, hips jerking up into the slick heat of your pussy, and it's only Xavier's grip that keeps the two of you from slipping off.

"Hah- hurry up-" Rafayel's eyes are glassy, his head tipped back and face twisted in pleasure. 

Strings of incoherent pleas are whispered against your ear, Rafayel marking up the left side of your neck while Xavier’s still busy with the right, that is, until Xavier switches sides, biting right over Rafayel’s marks until he’s pulled up into a desperate kiss.

The wet sounds of their lips are filthy and obscene, each hot breath and moan brushing past your ear as you writhe, pressed between them. Rafayel's cock is already swelling, twitching against the fluttering walls of your pussy, unwilling to fully pull out, settling to just grinding up in slow, cruel thrusts before something in him snaps and he switches to pounding against your abused walls.

Every time you think you’ll finally come Rafayel switches pace, the obscene slap of skin on skin muffled only by your sobs and their kissing. 

You’re close, so so fucking close you feel your muscles begin to shake. Xavier only pushes you down further, every angle a new cruelty, smothering you between them, rendering you unable to do anything but take it.

Again, Rafayel slows, and you slur curses down at him as your thighs tremble from overstimulation, shaking violently until you feel something grab your calf. Xavier massages the quivering muscle, gentle until he’s suddenly pressing your knee higher and higher, going until it’s pinned to the mattress up against your head.

And now Rafayel is hitting impossibly deeper, abusing your poor g-spot with each thrust. 

Xavier kisses your ankle, then calf, making his way up your leg until he can nip at your inner thighs now folded over his shoulder. And then you feel the pressure of his cock at your already full entrance. Xavier’s hand dips down between your bodies, trying to bully himself in alongside Rafayel, but his cock slides past your navel, slick and covered in your combined cum. 

"No, no no, not gonna fit- ah- Xavier!"

Your words break off into a wail as he tries again, grinding closer so you’re tightly cradled between the two, Xavier leaning fully atop you both. A snarl grits through his jaw when his cock slips past again, readjusting you so your legs fall apart wider, the burn in your thighs turning delicious and overwhelming, pussy weeping around Rafayel’s cock as Xavier’s swollen, leaking head bumps against your clit. 

Xavier watches the mess, every thrust and messy squirt of cum, brows furrowed and flushed a deep red, as he whines into your shoulder, "Please- can't stop- please let me fuck you too, you'll look so pretty with both of us filling you up, taking us so good- don’t make me stop."

He’s reduced to babbling against your neck, biting down hard enough to bleed when your cunt finally yields to him too, cockhead bumping into Rafayel’s as he slowly pushes in inch and inch, trembling from the combined pleasure of your walls and the violent throbbing of every vein now grinding together.

It's too much, it’s not enough, the stretch and the friction and the pressure leaving you fucked stupid, hands scrambling for purchase. Rafayel grunts when your nails drag across his thighs, his own hands coming to latch onto your wrists, pinning them above his head, forcing you motionless between them.

You can do nothing but sob, tears streaming down your face as your entire body convulses. And when they finally, finally bottom out together, the world goes white.

"Shh, you're alright," Rafayel soothes, although his voice is trembling, the sound broken as he tries to catch his breath. "Doing so well for us, cutie, so perfect."

Xavier growls, his hands grabbing the headboard. He's barely holding on, not with the way Rafayel's cock twitches against his own, your hot walls clenched tightly around the two of them as you beg.

"Please, can't- too much, more, I need-"

There's a broken sob, and then Xavier’s slamming his hips forward, fucking into you with a brutality he usually saves for Rafayel, the force sending the three of you rocking against the mattress, headboard splintering under the strength of his grip. The other leaves to thumb at your nipples, lips following suit as he rambles, drunk off your pussy, "These would look s'pretty filled, even more sensitive. Bet you'd let us milk you, fill you up even more."

"And here, you'll feel us here too, won't you?" A hand moves lower- whose you no longer are coherent enough to care- brushing over the swell of your abdomen, the slight bulge appearing and disappearing where both of them are thrusting violently into you. "Be a waste not to. Imagine it, a painted mess filled with us.”

And you are. You can't think about anything else, not with the way they're stuffing you full— every time Rafayel's cock would settle near your g-spot Xavier’s would ram back in, forcing the former up against your cervix before pulling out entirely, repeating the vicious rhythm as the pain bled into pleasure. 

Tears stream down the side of your face, room spinning into dizziness until all that remains are the burning trails of their touch, the only things keeping you grounded. 

Rafayel's sucking into your shoulder, biting the sweat-slicked flesh, and you can feel his hips begin to stutter underneath you, already reaching his high despite Xavier still pounding into you with the same intensity, desperate to catch up.

The moment Xavier feels Rafayel's release, it's over. Your back arches up against him, convulsing against their hold, your abused walls clenching down so tightly that you’re practically begging for them to come inside, sucking them in deeper and deeper until it’s impossible for them not to follow.

It's a violent orgasm, hot squirt of your cum drenching Xavier’s abs, the intensity of it causing Rafayel’s vision to white out too, unable to hear the desperate sounds of your moans, not when his blood is rushing past his ears.

Then, the world comes crashing back.

Rafayel’s panting, still thrusting weakly into the slick, tight heat as he emptied himself inside you, the sheer overload of it gushing down your legs and onto the sheets. 

"Ah- Xavier," you whine, the sound muffled into his chest as Xavier continues to chase after his high, too lost in his late orgasm to pull out.

The overstimulation is torture, your body twitching and trembling with every sloppy thrust. The moment he finally pulls out, the mess follows, thick, white rivets leaking down your thighs, the sheer volume near damn concerning had you the capacity to focus on it.

Rafayel laughs, fingers swirling through the cum as though painting your thighs, "That's not going to be easy to clean up."

"S'gonna look pretty. Messy. Full." Xavier murmurs, still pinning the both of you beneath him as he collapses in exhaustion, fingers dancing over the small swell in your stomach. Pressing lightly, he watches in fascination as their mixed cum gushes out faster, and you whimper, gripping his wrists to stop before they get any more ideas. 

You're not sure what's worse, the fact that they're both still hard and the way they're looking at you, or the fact that their words have your exhausted body already trying to recover, a shiver running through your sore muscles as the room's cool air brushes over the slick, sticky mess between your thighs.

"You're both so disgusting," you groan, the words coming out slurred and barely audible. 

"You love it."

"Yeah," Xavier's agreement is soft and almost hesitant. "You love us."

"Yes, I love both of you. Now get the fuck off of me." A shove, your shaking arm barely affecting Xavier as he finally relents, a small smile on his lips as he rolls the three of you down into the bed, resting on your sides. 

The muscles in your thighs scream in relief as they’re finally placed down, every inch of your body sore and marked up in one way or another, every visible bruise and bite getting pampered in faux apologies by the two men snuggling up next to you.

It’s a tangle of limbs, Xavier already claiming your chest again as he nuzzles into your breasts while Rafayel simply curls himself around your back. A hand there, an arm there, and a little more muffled bickering. Yet you all fit together, and sleep comes easy now. 

And the nightmares never return. 

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun Park x Reader: Regret

519 spoiler! G/N. Jail visit, but it's you. Don't worry it's soft. Masterlists

Gun refused to see you, at first.

If you didn't know better, you thought it might have been due to some misguided sense of chivalry. A romantic might have suggested that he didn't want to drag you down with him. At least you still have your freedom while he rots away in prison.

Yet you know he's always been cold, even with you sometimes. This is how he is. If he didn't want to see you, he didn't want to see you. There's very little depth to it.

Then he accepted your visitation.

After numerous times of you requesting, after you were about to give up hope. You're not sure what surprised you the most - your persistence or the fact that he gave in first.

Gun looks-

Well. Gun looks like Gun. (Bruised and bandaged though he is usually bruised and bandaged.)

Handsome. Confident. You hate how well the blue jumpsuit fits his strong frame. Even imprisoned, he still sits like a king on a throne. A ruler blessed with divine right.

You look him in the eyes, pitch black once more with startling white irises. Looking and looking as if the plastic screen wasn't standing between you; a tangible divider between the free and the caged (although you're not sure, if Gun really tried, how well it would hold)-

And could have sworn you saw a flash of regret.

You're not entirely sure what to think. You thought you knew him.

Gun Park isn't one to regret anything. Always weighed up the risks and rewards, took calculated gambles, understood the consequences.

Yet-

Even as he sits there - silent, larger than life, a powerful, dangerous presence-

You think it's regret.

A foreign, new expression that you haven't seen him wear before.

Certainty slams home when his gaze flickers to your fingers and his hand reaches out on reflex before tensing almost imperceptibly and retreating. You would have missed it if you weren't watching him so closely.

It’s definitely regret.

You think you might also regret the next words you say, though your heart and mind has been made up a long time ago.

"I'll wait for you."

They're the only words you tell him today. The only words you tell him for a long time.

His eyes widen and he says nothing when you stand to leave.

"I'll wait for you." You tell him once more, and this time he wears a ghost of a smile instead. 

[lilyharvord]

Vampire cal favorite blood type?

BAWAHAHAA, let's just say it's one he can't have and has to do with a certain witchling. 😉

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 2: SIMON PETRIKOV

Let me know if I missed anything!

First of all the title sequence is fucking cool. I don't want to speculate about the various things we see in it, like the apartment getting blown up or the Fern tree growing into its 1000+ version, because I'm sure the show will get round to all that!

The first scene was an awesome reintroduction to the post-apocalypse, showing us the dynamic between Simon and Marcy. The button popping off Marcy's dungarees was a reference to young Marcy's first appearance, Memory of a Memory, when she removed one of the buttons herself to fix Hambo's eye.

Simon was show playing a live set at Dirt Beer Guy's tavern in Obsidian. It seems they've gotten to know each other quite well over the past twelve years. Dirt Beer Guy asks Simon if he's read his new book draft, about a character called Joe Milkshake who was first mentioned in the episode Root Beer Guy.

Despite the fact we saw Jake in the trailers, Finn and T.V. pretty much confirm in this scene that Jake is dead, and has presumably been dead since before Obsidian. I guess Bronwyn wasn't the only Jake descendant who Finn took on as an apprentice, but T.V. doesn't seem all that into it. The Finn and Jake we saw in the trailer are likely from an alternate universe that we have yet to see.

Finn uses his weed whacker to cut through these bushes. A nice way of showing he's fully recovered from his Fern guilt. The focus here is very much on Simon's problems instead of Finn's.

Finn parts with Simon to go and visit Huntress Wizard. The nature of their relationship remains ambiguous and I expect it to stay that way.

Simon has the Island Lady from The Party's Over Isla de Señorita in his phone. I guess they reconnected after he became Simon again. He also has Abracadaniel. I always liked Ice King's friendship with Abracadaniel and the rest of the Order of Giuseppe so I hope they're still friends!

Cute Bubbline scene. Back in the episode Bonnibel Bubblegum, Mr. Creampuff suggested he and PB get matching tattoos. Now she's (trying to) do the same with the girl she's chosen rather than some guy who was chosen for her! Also Marceline is using the same phone she's been seen with in a few previous episodes, including Go With Me and Be Sweet.

I think the flying human city is called Up-Ton.

Choose Goose! He keeps coming back! And he's evil now! People were joking about him being the antagonist of Fionna and Cake after that weird post-credits scene in Wizard City and the fact he was in hell in Together Again. I wasn't expecting that to actually come true. Glob knows why he's hanging out in a cage in Simon's house.

The pattern of GOLB's eyes is reflected in Simon's glasses during the ritual. He is doing the same dance that Betty was doing to summon GOLB in the finale.

Among the objects in Simon's GOLB shrine are the Farmworld Enchiridion, the flying carpet that Simon stole from Ash and was later frequently used by Betty, the crocodile clips that Betty used for her magic rituals, two effigies of GOLB, and what looks to be the shell of the snail who was seen throughout the original series.

In this credits sequence, Fionna and cake are dreaming about the mask being worn by the bear than Finn slew, and a butterfly with a smiley face on it. Perhaps symbolising Finn?

Tune in next week for episodes 3 and 4!

[ponderingmoonlight]

(y/n) sparing Kokushibo's life for him to save her

Pairing: Kokushibo x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Synopsis: You find yourself standing in front of none other than the upper moon one. And while you know your chances are low and that your life might end in the dusk of day, you are able to cage Kokushibo into the upgoing sun. Until his eyes are filled with sorrow, until you make a decicion that might cost your life...

Warnings: this is my first ever Kokushibo fic so please let me know what you think! Like for Yorichii, I inserted a few pics into the fanfic itself so be prepared, angst to fluff, not proofread yet, NO MANGA SPOILERS 🤍

Special thanks to my dear @lavenderdrxp for the request!

The cold air of the night lashes against your sensitive skin without mercy, only warmed by your blood that runs down your frame like rivers. You are so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of your life. Why did you decide on becoming a demon slayer, developing into a quite skilled hashira? Right, because one of them murdered your whole village without blinking, because you wanted to protect humans from their cruel hands.

Your fingers start to tremble uncontrollably while you hold onto your sword for dear life, the handle smeared in crimson. The second you laid your eyes on him, felt his presence, you saw death itself. You’ve never encountered one of the upper moons carefully chosen by Muzan Kibutsuji himself. Until today, you were so keen to win this endless fight, thought you’d stand a chance against the demon king.

“Give up your dreams and die.”

But the man in front of you is the upper moon one. The man in front of you was able to almost kill you with just one skilled slash of his sword. Is this how you’ll die? In a 10-minute fight with a demon? Of course, you always knew your life would end like this. After all, this is the fate of a demon slayer, this is what you chose.

But…you don’t want to die. You want to live a long and healthy life, want to eat mochis until sunset and play cards with your friends.

“I will never give up”, you press out, dashing forward over and over again.

Your body begs you to stop and rest, to let your blade fall and never return to this life. But instead, you stare into his cold eyes, those beautiful colourful orbs that would fascinate you in another situation. How did a man like him end up being such a powerful demon?

“Foolish human. Do you really think you are able to defeat me?”

Your eyes dart up to the sky above. That cursed night that makes it possible for these creatures to walk on earth freely. But that faint shimmer of orange tells you that day will soon arrive, that maybe…

It might be stupid to even consider a win, that you’ll make it out of here alive. But if you are able to entertain him for a couple more minutes and trap him until sunrise, you’d be able to not only escape, but kill him.

Your mind starts to race, eyes scanning his body up and down. He’s quite tall and muscular, it won’t be easy to defeat him without any weapons. No, not even your katana will be enough. But maybe the poison you created with Shinobu-san will be.

“Use this against a demon whenever you feel like you can’t defeat him otherwise. This will make any demon unable to move for at least a few minutes.”

Every demon, she said. Every demon definitely includes the man standing in front of you. But will this be enough, are you actually skilled enough to even hit him? You need to inject the poison into his body, meaning a slice with your poisoned blade would be more than enough.

But that means you have to land a hit.

“You’re a fool if you really think I’ll give up so easily.”

Kokushibo needs to move, needs to end this fight before the sun starts to rise. You’re a hashira, his worst enemy. But instead, he can’t help but stare at you through the darkness of the night. You seem so unbothered by his presence, so confident in your abilities that it simply sweeps him off his feet.

Are you actually dumb enough to underestimate him? No, the fact that you keep your save distance to his sword tells him more than urgently that you know very well who is standing in front of you. No, your firm believe in yourself is enough to make you stand your ground.

And again, you dash towards him, holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. He dodges your attack with ease, slicing through your tender flesh too light to hurt you critically. Oh, he knows all too well that he’s holding back, that you should be dead already. Why is he not able to end this fight, to finally get rid of you? Your eyes seem to gleam in the darkness, light up the word around him. When was the last time he saw the sun? He can’t remember. But your eyes have to be close.

A sudden pain crawling up his back rips him out of his pondering. What was that? Did you manage to hit him, is the sun starting to rise? Slowly he turns around, eyes finding your cramped-up figure on the floor. His flesh starts to heal in an instant, the only hint for your attack being a minor cut in his cloak. Yes, you indeed managed to hit him.

“I thought you are a hashira. Aren’t you aware that as a demon, I’m healing in an instant?”

Your heavy breaths hang in the air between both of you, your blood discolouring the forest ground crimson while your hands dig into the mud. This was all you’ve had left. It has to be enough, the poison has to function. Otherwise…

Your tired eyes dart towards him and the way he slowly approaches you. Will this be your end? Like in slow motion he raises his sword over your head, ready to behead you. At least you did what you could, faced him with everything you’ve head. Becoming a demon slayer meant being ready to give your life sooner or later. You allow your lids to rest, awaiting the bow of his sharp blade in silence. At least your end will be graceful, right?

But instead of his sharp blade, you are greeted by his tall figure crashing into you onto the ground. Is this real? Did the poison work? You force your eyes open, heart almost beating out of your chest when you begin to realize.

You made it. Despite the stinging fact that this man is the upper moon one, you somehow managed to stand up against him and steal his ability to move.

“You…poisoned…me”, he presses out.

What a fool he was for sparing your life when he had the chance to kill you so easily. Now the sun slowly but surely starts to rise, makes his skin burn uncomfortably while his venomous eyes stare right through your soul. You really are a brave one, bright orbs set on him while you free yourself from the pressure of his body above you.

“I did what I have to do. You are my enemy.”

Yes, you have to remind yourself over and over again. It doesn’t matter that his facial features suddenly begin to soften, you really don’t care about the way he stares into the rising sun. No, it doesn’t bother you that he looks almost…hurt.

“I haven’t seen a sunrise for a long time”, he mumbles.

“I love to see the sun rise. There is no better feeling than the first warm rays of the day against bare skin and that striking colours painted in the sky.”

“You look exactly like a woman who adores sunrises”, he comments so tenderly that you rip your gaze away from the orange sky for a second.

“And you look like a man who did as well”, you reply without thinking twice.

In the dim light he looks breathtakingly gorgeous. Yes, there is no doubt that this demon once was a handsome man with the kindest eyes. You hold your breath, the mark engraved into his eye reminding you more than urgently that this man is indeed a powerful demon. You should leave him to the sheer force of the sun, let him burn for all the sins he committed. But instead, a deep grief holds onto your heart tightly.

“I did indeed.”

Is that a tear escaping his eye? No, impossible. No demon you ever encountered cried, regretted his actions. Does he feel the presence of death haunting after him, the way his skin starts to burn under the first rays of sunshine? His forehead starts to redden before catching fire, making a deep whimper escape his lips.

“Do you want to live on?”

What a stupid question to ask, how reckless to even talk to him. Why does your hand cup his cheek all of the sudden, why do you feel sorry for one of the strongest demons in existence?

“Maybe dying in the upgoing sun is more than I am able to ask for”, he speaks out slowly and reserved.

Your mind starts to raise, comes up with a plan more poisonous than anything Shinobu has ever created. This is ridiculous to even think about, you are a demon slayer, a hashira to be exact. The thought alone is ridiculous.

But not ridiculous enough to stop yourself from grabbing him under his armpits and start hovering him into the safety of the thick woods, away from the dangerous rays of sunshine. You feel like fainting, your very own blood following you behind like a trail while you huff in exhaustion. But still, you keep on moving, shield his body from the sun with your blood-soaked coat while all he does is staring at the angelic sky.

This will be the death of you, as soon as he regains the power over his body, he’ll slice you into pieces. Why? Why are you not strong enough to outstand your pity, why weren’t you able to leave him to his fate? Instead, you find yourself hauling him up a pair of stairs leading into an abandoned cottage you’ve known for years. This is your safe place, your retreat from this cruel world.

And this will be the place you lose your life in.

You fall onto the cold wooden floor the second the door behind both of you is closed, your mouth tasting like iron while coughing up blood. You must be severely injured, given the fact how numb your body starts to feel and how your heart seems to beat slower with every passing minute.

Your eyes catch his shadow next to you, how it builds up into its old frightening gloom. The poison must have worn off, gave him back the ability to move freely. You swallow hard, glossy eyes widened in thick horror.

This will be your end.

“Why did you save me?”

His dark voice sends shivers down your spine, the sheer presence of his powers alone while laying on the floor helplessly almost making you lose your composure.

“I don’t know”, you mumble in response, voice nothing more than a fade away whisper.

His heavy yet light footsteps make the floor vibrate underneath his weight when he crosses the room and comes to a stand in front of you. All you can do is stare at his feet next to your head, waiting for your certain death.

“I’m the upper moon one”, he reminds you.

“And I’m…a hashira…”

You feel the wood next to you give in under his weight as he kneels down next to you, six eyes staring at you intensely. Why…why is he still hesitating? It wouldn’t be hard to kill you in the state you are in, even though the sun now almost fully rose. What a victory, killing another hashira off with ease, coming closer to being the strongest.

Kokushibo can’t help but admire you for the way you still carry yourself with so much pride. Despite the fact that you’ll die within an hour if not treated, despite his sheer presence by your side, your eyes still hold contact with his unwavering. Like in trance he leans forward, lets go of the handle of his sword for the first time since forever. As gentle as his hands remember to move, he places them onto your stomach, watches as your eyes fill with dread. Is he even able to use his powers after all this time ignoring them? He has to try.

The room lights up in red as your body seems to burn alive, a silent scream escaping your lips before you are able to stop it. Out of instinct, you grab on of his hands, hold onto it tightly while waiting for the sharp pain haunting down your body.

But nothing happens. No, it almost feels as if…your pain slowly fades away.

“You…You healed me”, you breathe out in utter disbelief, chest rising and falling so sharply that oxygen refuses to fill your lungs.

Your hands wander around your body rapidly, scan every inch of your busted skin to be greeted by nothing.

“You healed me.”

“You saved me”, he replies briefly, hands still pressed onto your stomach ever so slightly.

Time stands still, the only thing you can think about are his eyes. The eyes that were filled with sorrow when staring into certain death, the eyes that roamed around your body to check for your injuries, the eyes that are now locked with yours.

“Thank you.”

“I need to thank you as well”, he answers calmly.

“I-…”

You don’t know what to say. Is all of this just a dream? This creature, this force of a man kneeling next to you is none other than the upper moon one, the most dangerous demon after Muzan Kibusuji himself. But he didn’t kill you. No, in fact he even healed your severe wounds, saved your life instead of sinking his teeth into you.

He spared you.

Your life was saved by a demon.

“Join the demon slayer corps. Come with me.”

Your words leave your mouth faster than you are able to even think, regret immediately washing over you like a wave. What on earth were you just saying?

“Did you forget how I am?”

“In exchange for saving your life”, you continue.

He just stares at you, eyes widen in sheer surprise. He expected everything when he followed your tracks tonight, the mission Muzan Kibutsuji entrusted Kokushibo with still present in his mind. It was fairly simple: Kill the hashira with the bright orbs, the girl on her way to a nearby village flooded by demons.

But now that he’s sitting right next to you, his hands still resting against your stomach, your heartbeat pounding against his palms, he simply can’t imagine to end your life right here and now. No, the urge to brush his fingertips over your cheek just once, to feel the heat of your skin becomes almost unbearable. Is it because of your innocent eyes, because you saved him despite he injured you severely?

“We live in different worlds, (y/n). It is simply impossible for me to be a part of yours.”

Your stomach drops by the way he says your name, breath getting stuck in your throat. You’ve seen countless demons in your life, always hated every single one with all of your heart. But this man showed you his real face, that he is still human after all these years. Maybe there is still hope, maybe turning into a demon doesn’t have to be a death sentence. Maybe…maybe you’ll be able to save Tanjiro Kamado’s sister.

“Promise that we’ll meet each other again. Promise me that you’ll visit me here right here again soon”, you urge.

“I…”

Kokushibo is los at words, lost in your bright orbs, lost in your tenderness. Not so long ago, he was on his way to end your life violently, to kill you and leave with the arrival of the sun. But now he finds himself right by your side, his mind wandering just by the exciting thought of meeting you again.

“I will visit you again”, he finally gives in.

“Good”, you breathe out.

“Now, tell me a little about yourself. After all, we are trapped here until the sun goes down.”

“I don’t enjoy talking that much.”

“Come on…”

-one year later-

Your eyes gleam in the down-going sun, whole body electrified in excitement. Only a few minutes before the sun is gone, only a few minutes until you finally see him again. As much as you adore the play of colours in the sky just before the sun sets, you started to love the tenderness of the night far more.

Because it means he’s able to walk freely, because it means finally seeing him again.

“There you are, sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks already heating up before you even turned around. You wrap your arms around his tall figure in an instant, his thumb gently stroking over your forehead.

"I still despise that scar", he states, eyes lost in your sight.

He was the one who did this to you, the one who almost killed you that night.

“That was long ago, Koku, please don't worry about it. I missed you, where have you been?”

There he stands as charismatic as ever, his sheer presence alone signalling nothing but power. You never fail to notice that he’s around no matter where you are, looking after you while fighting off demons. Oh, how much he hates to hide in the shadow, to keep his affection a secret. But there is no way he’ll allow any other upper moon to harm a single hair on your body, let alone Muzan Kibutsuji himself.

Gently, you wrap your arms around him the way he adores so much, rest your head against his chest while he strokes your hair gently.

“I need to keep you save, I am not risking your life over one meeting, (y/n)”, he explains in all seriousness.

“I’d rather die than not seeing you”, you reply with a grin.

“Don’t say that, (y/n)”, he warns you while wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

Need more? Click here for my Yoriichi x fem!reader fic!

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @snowywhiterose @chosomybeloved3