#and claws because once again
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zed-sabre · 4 months ago
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these are for literally no one but me
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nevesmose · 1 year ago
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Curze grinned at the First Captain suddenly, transforming his visage into a death’s head rictus lit by febrile eyes. ‘Now you have met my brother, you must surely prefer crows to ravens.’
That was a joke, thought Sevatar. He did not understand jokes. ‘My lord, are we finished?’
For some unfathomable reason, that made Curze cringe, and he nodded like a rebuked child.
Konrad Curze: The Night Haunter by Guy Haley.
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kabutoden · 3 months ago
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scribbles of theodochia in a pink pony outfit and scorpi with his godtier, lusus and weapon (knight of hope, six-eyed crow+buster sword)(designed by xonn)
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stormyoceans · 9 months ago
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LINE READING SO DEVASTATING I NEED TO DIE ABOUT IT
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basileusdraws · 9 months ago
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Some early days design stuffs for my favourite crab kids :)
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analexthatexists · 3 months ago
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its been exactly a month since i posted some art and stuff but i assure you i have a good reason and that reason is I GOT DRAGGED INTO THE DEPTHS OF THE ABYSS BY ELDRITCH HORRORS AND CAME OUT WITH A RETURNING OBSESSION AND THIS FREAK.
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So there was this roleplay me and my friends were doing and I had to design a new villian to replace an old one and so I came up with a design on the spot and now this old man exists and what do you mean people think hes hot whaaaaat
he's got no name, i've just been calling him THE KING because just calling him Nightmare feels weird and like I might figure out a nickname for him???
idk what i wanna do with him but i think hes cool... if i give into the urges i'll write more about him and his potential AU because yes i think im suddenly obsessed with this
oh btw in case you're still here um fun fact; the gem in his crown is actually malachite! this was just for fun and then i googled the symbolism behind the gemstone and then realized how ironic and fitting it was
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additionally, the crowns of both the passive and corrupted forms took HEAVY inspiration from dreamcatchers, and I like the idea that the corrupted form lacks a mouth because the villagers tried to silence him (as in keep him quiet and refusing to let him speak his mind or have any freedom, but also eventually attempting to literally kill him. its something that still haunts him to this day presumably, and compared to other nightmares he's actually a lot more composed and quieter too, maybe somewhat because of that!) and...yeah, i stole the idea of "nightmare's tentacles resembling tree branches" idea from another design... I can't find the artist I got that idea from though... credit to @irriska for their Epimeliad!Nightmare design because that outfit inspired the one for this Nightmare!
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naudiz-scribbles · 1 year ago
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Just a study/headcanon thingie comparing Maxwell and Wilson's arms and how they're different. Cuz fuck yeah shadow arm + chemical burn heacanons. Plus a contrast version just to more clearly illustrate Wil's scars, these aren't very high visibility. --Just the left arms.
Tiny smidge of hc under the cut--probably not even enough to justify a read-more. Mostly rambling, sorry.
I have thought too much about this.
-Max's claws/talons/whatever are sharper than Wil's. They're also kinda polished and shiny, as well as pretty much scar-less. This is mostly because he prefers his puppets to do the dirty work, but also because he's a little too concerned with his appearance for someone struggling to survive.
-Wil's are slightly shorter and duller from manual labor and lack of care for them. If he wanted to do some damage (which is a last resort for both of them) he absolutely could, but they're not going to prick your skin.
-The skin of both their arms is smooth and hairless, hair just... doesn't really grow well on shadow skin, ig. As you get to the fingers, the tops gradually feel smoother and harder, like, chitinous (i think.) The palms and undersides of the fingers remain somewhat soft and textured.
-Not claw related, but Max has longer palms and fingers! (fingers mostly.) Apparently this makes him water-aligned or something? Based on... I don't know what. Just something I came across looking for references.
-I dunno what that'd make Wil, since his hands are fairly average in proportions. Maybe his fingies are a smidge long?? So air I guess??
-Wil actually holds some amount of pride for his scars (save for the palm cut.) He sees them as symbols of his growth as a scientist. They do however stiffen those areas of his skin and pull a bit, which can be mildly painful.
-The palm cut he really wishes he didn't have. Baaaaad memories.
-Aaaaand on the subject of self-consciousness: Wil is kinda bothered by the shadow arm thing. Less so as time goes on (in the camp it's become pretty normalized,) but he initially wore his gloves over them to try to hide them.
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cockroachpr-1-nce · 3 days ago
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i need our roommate to die
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ct-hardcase · 1 month ago
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as someone who never shipped rylo and still does not, (mostly) releasing myself from the shackles of antishipping was so freeing. I can appreciate kylo and rey's dynamic for the things I do like about it without having to worry about the nonexistent discourse response in my head. they're a fucked-up little dyad brimming in force energy! it's a neat concept for two enemies who find themselves the only two force sensitives who are in a place to explore it. kylo using the dyad as a fucked-up homing beacon to find rey in tros is creepy, which I love for a guy who's just coming off the heels of being the worst dude in the galaxy!
but also I can appreciate fnnrey for what it is, again, without having to respond to the nonexistent discourser in my head or comparing it against another ship. I enjoy them as a romantic pair (and also as a pair of force sensitives!) and I feel like I can do that better when I'm focusing on the things I like
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twingeof-cosmic-angst · 1 year ago
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My favorite ship dynamic is Gilded Lily by Cults x Nothings New by Rio Romeo
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divinity-devoured · 9 months ago
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i cannot comprehend this
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piningpercussionist · 1 year ago
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(ooc)
*lying dead on the floor*
I have queued,, 5 more asks fhcjsfjfr
Two will have art responses! Probably should have staggered them but I think they're back to back lol. It doesn't matter anyway
I might try to cram one more in,, to better match batch one,, we'll see. But that's likely batch two ✌️
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brainjuicey · 2 months ago
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I didn't live this life to get a point in architecture 'school' where the head lecturer yells for 2.5 hrs about how our year is the worst he's ever seen and there's not any star pupils for him to recommend for jobs, and obviously if we don't make a lot of money and move to new York then what's it all for (for him)????
the fact that he is in control of my education and dissertations for the next 2 years isn't ok
he's not helping me, if anything this goes against what I'm trying to learn, so why am I here? I don't want modernist theory and photoshop, I want to build something for people to enjoy
I want to get out of this school, it's not what I thought it was
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screampied · 4 months ago
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‘ DICKMATIZED !? ★
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☆ sum. dick • matized. [dehk-mah-tized] verb. when he’s rearranging your guts oh-so good that you’re just left utterly dumb ‘n stupid! toji, sukuna, gojo, geto, nanami, choso, ino.
wc. 5.8k
warnings. fem! reader, dick-drunk reader, balls… cum … balls, pwp, unprotected, dumbification, tf! sukuna, feral pússydrunk men, implied multiple rounds, backshots, mating press, cowgirl, nerd! nanami - college au, pússy talk, size kink, first time squīrt, mirror sēx, cervix mentions, spīt, tummy bulges, ‘till the bed breaks, breedīng kink, spanks, petnames.
an. elaborating more from this ask :p
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✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
his dick? literally life-altering. life changing.
not only was sukuna ryomen the king of curses, but he was also the king of dumbing you down with just a few deep vulgar strokes. “attaaaa girl,” he’d grumble—one hand gripping your hip, another clawing near the top crown of your head. but as he’s raising your head, all you see is your dumb, drooling reflection through his stained century-old mirror.
through murky hazed peripherals, you spotted sukuna’s sly grin, with fangs poking through each lip… sinister red eyes zeroing down your body. he was mean but his hips were even meaner. as his hips relentlessly bucked into you, you let out a shrilling shriek once you feel his bulging tip swab its away around the insides of your slobbering cunt. he reached each ‘n every spot, pinpointing every slick dribbling orifice and you could barely even formulate words let alone proper sentences.
“that’s it, look at y’rself,” and a puddle of drool waters past the corners of your lips once sukuna grabs your chin. “hah- look at how dumb you get,” and you let off a moan once sukuna starts to thoroughly punctuate each individual thrust against your aching core. “allll. because. of. me.”
you glance at yourself in the mirror once more, peeking at the notoriously cursed silhouette that’s stood directly behind you. sukuna’s unapologetically ruthless, driving such sharp hips into you with little to no mercy and you only wanted more.
“suh- ooooh! sukuna,” you moan, getting whiplash from the vicious sharp pounds of slamming-ridden flesh. each pap stung against your skin and you’re just trying to keep up with his crazed pace. once his angered cockhead bullies its way near the fluttering opening of your cervix though, your eyes prettily roll. “o- oh my god, r- right th-”
“yeaaah, i know,” he replies gruffly, cutting off your tone by placing an enlarged palm over your wet-glossed lips. followed by a cute muffled, ‘mmmpf’ he scoffs in disgust once he feels you damping the center of his hand with treacly saliva. “keh. how repulsive,” and you whine once sukuna makes your back arch even more against his velveteen-made sheets. trailing a whetted claw gently down the slope of your back, he grunts. “wonder who’s nastier. you—” and he pauses, surprising your cunt with a brutal ricocheting thrust. “—or this sloppy worthless pussy. hnnnm.”
you’re tremoring underneath him, heedlessly trying to count each loud slap of clashing bodies in your head but you end up losing count anyway. his cock’s just as mean as he was, but his girth was far more rude. sukuna ploddingly runs his nails down your spine as he’s just impaling his weighty dick inside of your clamping, sopping walls. “mng- ‘s fuckin’ good. ‘kuna fuck me, fuck m—mmph,” and you moan against a palm that now smacks over your mouth again.
you could hear sukuna scoff behind you, feeling the wetness of your tongue slither its way around his bare hand. “y’er a nasty one,” he groans, glancing at your stupid reflection in the mirror. it was almost cute—how your eyes were all hooded, barely even open but visibly crossed. you’re seeing galaxies of stars as he pounds into your pussy, invading his way past the tight tight ring of your entrance. you’re so wet that your cunt sobs on his length, creating sticky globs of slick that glue against both fleshy mounds. “mhm. keep that pretty mouth shut. all i wanna hear is how fuckin’ messy you get under here,” and you let off another muffled whine once sukuna spreads your knobbly thighs further apart.
he’s so fast, his speed’s as quick as lightening—
and your hand cups over the one that’s currently placed over your mouth. sukuna feels your saliva starting to spill between your lips, wetting down his wrist and he titters. “spit’s supposed to stay in your mouth, dumb girl,” and you could feel yourself reaching closer and closer toward your blissful orgasmic edge. fuck- it was right there, literally arms-reach away and you were already starting to short-circuit. your thighs struggled to stay open and you were sure—just one more single hard thrust and you’d probably break. “aw, your legs are gettin’ weak. tappin’ out, princess?”
“ ‘kuna, ‘m cummin’,” you’d blurt once he removed his hand from your slick mouth. strings of glowy drool depart from your lips, sticking against his fingers before he thrashes the swollen pink head of his cock against your pussy.
repeatedly, it’s not just once or twice—hell, not even thrice!
it’s dozens of times. you let off a plethora of sweetened whines as his reddened tip scrapes its way through your gummy walls before you abruptly squall. “f- fuuuuck!”
a pretty, shiny geyser sprays out between your thighs, and your expression is priceless.
sukuna remained inside as he watched you whine out those needy raw sobs with his shaft still stuffed inside. you couldn’t think straight—you could only taste the treacly sweet tang of your release on your buds as your head flops onto the bed. “o- oh my god,” you’d puff, feeling your wobbly thighs soak with slimy molasses of your sweet. “again,” you moan out, looking up at the mirror to see sukuna staring straight at you.
he’s amused - and your eyes widen once he brings a hand underneath his heavy cock that was stacked with not only one but two..
he was only fucking you with one of his shafts—but now that you see his barred hand wrapping around both, you gulp once he nips his sharp fangs near his teeth. “fine,” he grumbles, and sukuna starts to align each between your sappy opening. sooo wet- it’s a pearly coat that runs down your cunt and he growls under his breath, bedaubing both creamy tips against your tender folds.
“but while we’re at it, little one. let’s see if you can squirt with two of me in you.”
✩ ˛˚ . INO TAKUMA.
first time inside and not only does he make you dumb but he ends up making himself dumb too.
“holy . . shit angel,” ino would lowly moan, reclining fully back against the couch. you’re gradually hovering over his lap while he’s got a clammy hand sneakily creeping at the left side of your waist. “g- god,” and darkened eyes lazer near your cunt. you were so slick. your entrance prettily sobbed with such dewdrops of sap that it had him whipped. ino wanted more, and the more he witnessed your pussy swallow his cock, the more his mouth grew drier than the sahara.
“relaaax, baby,” you invade the corner of his mouth with wet kisses. with how soft your voice was, the sound of your voice alone was enough to make ino’s dick throb — and it did.
his abs tense through his white tank as he feels one of your palms leisurely slide up his sculptured v-line. your touch - it was one of his many, many weaknesses. his first weakness being you . . second, your pretty dripping pussy. “ah, look at me. eyes up here, ino.”
“mhm-” ino grunts, nearly melting at the sickly sweet pounds of flesh clashing amongst each other. once your body started to move, it was game over. slosh after slosh and it only gets louder. ino’s nose cutely wrinkles the second he hears that squelching ‘pop!’
now, he’s bottomed out and it was just a few lengthy seconds after he’d eased himself all the way in. ino was snug - nicely snug and timid heart-filled irises meets yours right away. “you’re s…so gorgeous,” he’d slur, watching his chest deflate at each sloppy thrust of your unsteady hips. “m- might just cum from lookin’ at your face, angel.”
fuck- you rolled your hips in such a way that it had gears turning in his empty, hollow brain.
ino’s flushed, and eventually, two hands grip your waist tightly. he’s trying to reel you into him but you playfully give him a shove, staring as his back collapses back into the pillow. “ngh- ino, there baby. there,” you’d weep out in a sweet whimper. his dick greedily explored through your insides like a maze. almost like it was lost - desperately trying to find its way around before eventually smooching near your cervix. “a- ah!” you’d moan, feeling a vein that ran down his cock throb inside you merely milliseconds later.
the movements of your rutting hips hypnotize ino.
you’re tossing them around in a circle as your arms throw over his broad shoulders. the entire time, he’s getting lost in your eyes. his tip’s an angry red, blushing inside of your tight gripping walls as you sloppily bounce on his lap. perspiring hands squeeze against your waist before you watch as his dark mousy brows crease into a furrow. “baby-” he grunts hoarsely, tilting his head fully back.
it’s cute—and a bit attractive. you spot his neck muscles tense before you suddenly feel ino’s impatient fingers crawl at the pretty curvature of your ass. with a firm grip, he grabs a nice handful of your jerking flesh before hissing under his breath. “o- oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum. keep ridin’ me, ride me good—use me, fuh- fuck me,” and ino’s voice pitched whinier the more your wet cunt sucks him in - vacuuming each ‘n every inch.
the noises were just sloppy. each ‘plop!’ and ‘pap!’ that echo from both bodies sends a wave of chills down ino’s spine. it was a feeling he’s never experienced—and you might have just made him fall in love with not only you but your slickly, wet cunt.
“ ‘s okay, ino. you can c- cum inside,” you whisper breathlessly against the crook of his neck. ino wraps his arms around you, holding you close as your hips rut into him quicker. both bodies moved against each other rhythmically, dexterously twirling your ass back and forth against his lap. ino’s just as dumb as you were—and if you squinted, you could see heart eyes forming in his dilated pupils.
“god- ‘m cummin’ . . fuck- ‘m cumming,” he hiccups, and his entire body erupts.
ino grows limp the minute he feels his leaking tip spurting out rope after rope. it’s hot - you slow down as he’s finally pumping you full, spurting out such thin, miry amounts.
ribbons drizzle inside of you and ino gets quiet, burying his face into your shoulder. babbles of whine fall into the crack of your neck and you smile, skimming a finger down his undercut.
tender, fawn eyes lock onto yours before ino grabs your chin softly. with a pout, he bedaubs a thumb across your wetly parted lips before sighing. he’s in love. “s-soooo . . what are we?”
✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO.
“awwwh, is the pretty girl gettin’ shy on me?” toji would gruffly croon, feeling your dripping cunt clench tightly around him.
you’re bent over and chewing on the bottom of your lip like candy whilst he’s going in and out of you. masses ‘n wads of milky knots ooze out of your pussy and he takes a moment to gawk at the mess he gifted you. “fuuuck- look at ‘er, ‘m floodin’ her up so good,” and toji grunts, his flushed tip smearing shapes around your runny entrance. “ya take it well every time too, baby.”
“hnng- toji,” you’d whimper, cutely trying to shimmy your hips against him. you always loathed how right after he’s dumping you with the nth load of the night, toji just has to tease you.
with a wide hand, he slaps his fat cockhead against your slobbering slit three times. in a dirty, carnal way though—it’s pretty.
with wrinkles creasing underneath his leafy eyes as he squints, toji drags a thumb down your swollen puffy folds. it’s a loud wet splat! that resounds through his perked ears and you could hear that smug snicker as clear as day. your tummy was already heaving - you wanted more, and toji hummed at the sight of you arching further for him. “don’t stop- f…finish fuckin’ me.”
“how cuuute,” he’d gruff, and you moan once he re-aligns his sweltering hot tip. it’s freshly coated with splotches of cum that was still gradually seeping from the center. messily, it leaks out, and you gasp once he starts to insert his way back in. it’s a sloppy pop! that sends you carnal chills and even a bit of throb. doing so makes you nip a few teeth near the inside of your cheek.
and oh- toji’s so thick.
he’s fat from the inside, along with his girth that delves deep inside of you - disappearing between your folds like an unrevealed magic trick.
every bulky inch that enters inside of your cunt makes your toes shrivel up into a cute, aching curl. every time, you’re left utterly speechless as you hear his husky rasps from behind you. toji runs a hand through his oily scalp before brusquely grunting. “hah- take it then, open nice ‘n wide for me, pretty. let’s see that biiiig stretch one more fuckin’ time,” and a cold sweat races down your back. one thrust! just one cruel, mouth-watering thrust, and you’re left stupid.
dewy remnants of cum streamed out the corners of your thighs and he was practically fucking his cum back into you. loads of it, creamy milky loads that pumped you full, keepin’ you warm—always.
the slanted hooking curve that his dick had swerved its way through your pussy, bruising your g-spot lovingly. but oh- toji doesn’t just fuck nasty, he fucks you stupid with a capital ‘S’.
“fuuuuck, right there, r- right hng- thereeee,” and the way you’d drag your words were so cute. toji’s hips were oh-so mean though, harshly snapping into you and each time the friction whams into you—you’re dumbfounded.
toji spots you trying to crawl away and he raises a brow, hooking a hand near your hip. “goin’ somewhere, girl?” and you moaned, feeling him drag you right back toward his cock. with your mouth idly hung open—you start to feel the slick muck of syrupy juices that globs down the flaps of your cunt. you’re soaked, and toji grunts the second you end up squeezing around his dick. measly thick fingers roam through his scalp as he watches your ass weakly buck back into him. “mhm- that’s it, park that pussy allll on me,” and he leans up close against your back.
you could feel his faded bushy happy trail tickle against your ass as he’s drilling into you deep, splaying your legs further apart with a single hand. toji wraps a hand around your throat, feeling every whiny syllable die out of your throat before he lifts your hips.
“such pretty hips. look at ‘em go,” and you moan, feeling his palm hit against your left ass cheek. it’s sharp, and the brief sting makes you get dumber whilst his mushroomy tip’s just tapping its way against your tender clit.
you’re at a loss for words—the lazy downward curve of toji’s cock runs all through you, and he feels your body underneath him cutely growing weak. he’s got the type of dick that makes you get a bit woozy, drooling for more and more inches until you’re stuffed to capacity. you were through, and toji’s just sternly slamming his hips into you so good that you don’t even hear the poor splitting wood of the headboard.
with a husky crack! it ends up splitting into two, falling right before your eyes and the boxspring ends up collapsing. toji doesn’t even flinch though, and his callused fingertips remain deep into the prints of your back. “heh. shit,” he mumbles, still buried inside of your puffed cunt.
you were still panting - heavily, but you crane your head around to a certain degree and glare at him.
“what? oh, don’t look at me like that, doll,” and you moan, facing back in front of you once he pulls out, smacking his cream-coated tip over your weeping sleek-covered cunt. “ ‘s her fault. isn’t that right, messy baby?” as you’re whimpering, toji grows mute at the sounds of your sloppy squelches.
his round tip smears itself in and out between your slobbering hole before he nods as if he actually understands what your pussy’s saying. “see. she even said sorry,” and toji leans down, spitting right on your cunt before giving it a praising pat.
“good giiiirl. seems like ya got more manners than y’r messy owner.”
✩ ˛˚ . SATORU GOJO.
“ahhh- don’t hide that gorgeous face, i wanna see ya,” satoru pouts, grabbing your hands.
you were utterly stupid, whimpering as you continued to mindlessly bounce on his lap. his shaft’s ridiculously thick, expanding throughout your walls like a domain whilst attacking your cervix with individual kisses.
it scratched an itch in your brain that makes you gasp—feeling his bare washboard abs rub against your back. satoru’s hot, but the sweltering pounds of flesh that smack and crash into his meaty thighs from your unpredictable movements were even hotter.
he leans right up against the left side of your cheek, pressing a wet chaste kiss near the corner of your twitching lip. “i wanna see my wifey get all dumb ‘n stupid while she’s ridin’ me, heh.”
“ngh- satoru,” you’d moan, feeling one of his hands sneak up your blouse. lanky fingers roam up your body as he’s mercilessly slamming you back down on his cock. satoru’s flushing capped tip swirls its way through your cunt, churning effortlessly rearranging your guts and your jaw dramatically drops.
it’s cute the way your mouth freely dangles, pink tongue lolling fully out as satoru presses a hand near your bare tummy. there, he could feel the ongoing stretch and so could you.
it’s a tiny bulge that wholly prints its way through you, and you could hear his breathy snicker air against your earlobe. “well look at that. such a pretty good girl takin’ allllll of me. look at that cute ‘lil tummy bulge,” and satoru runs a free hand through his hair. with tight clenched abs, his entire core was squeezing up—your moving hips had him gnawing the inside of his cheek.
but it’s a long deadly silence between the two of you that suddenly occurs. satoru’s icy bright eyes shine into yours as you cup his face, weakly trying to keep up your grinding.
timidly, satoru strokes your bottom lip gingerly. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i might get’cha pregnant, sweetheart.”
“do it.” you whine. “make me p… pregnant, ‘toru.”
famous last words,
because not only does he fuck you stupid until you’re chewing on your own sweet, pathetic whimpers—satoru ends up dumping load after load into you. buttery wads of cum tear their way out of your folds as he’s now got you folded in a nasty mating press.
satoru overflowed your cunt, panting heavily as he watches the hefty, velvety masses of cum ooze down between your stuffed entrance.
with a single hand, he spreads your legs wide to get a better view and he kisses his teeth. “fuck- what a mess,” he’d groan, and he’s still deeply inside of you. your brain was empty — and all you could even register let alone think about, was the ropes of hot cum that flooded deep into your womb.
you’re still moaning, feeling satoru’s hungry gaze peer into your soul before he snickers. “would be a shame if this all hah- went to waste.”
and as he’s still trying to catch shallow breaths, satoru leisurely wipes a thumb down your leaking pussy. immediately, his digit gets coated with milky remnants of cum. “s- satoru,” you’d whimper, watching as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle. you remained in the same position—
he had your legs spread wide into an eagle ‘v’ shape before bringing his finger up to his naturally glossed lips. satoru laps up his own mess right off his thumb whilst his cock’s plugging you utmost full. “you’re s- so nasty.”
“not nastier than this sweet girl,” satoru whispers in a raspy tone, taking out his dick before watching as his cum freely pours between your folds. velvety loads and loads sob between your folds and he hums, leaning in for a quick kiss.
satoru rocks his toned body against you, pinning both arms above your head before a hand placed on your tummy. you moan into his lips—wrapping a feeble leg around his slim waist before his free hand grabs at your neglected tits.
“mmp-” he muffled between kisses, feeling your hand trail a path down his sculptured abs. satoru presses his forehead against yours—devastatingly pulling away before whispering against your lips.
“got a feelin’ it’s gonna . . be a girl.”
✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO.
“fun fact sweets,” nanami grunts as a bare palm wraps around your throat. his grip was soft - the mere opposite of his accurately shaped thrusts.
your moans harmonically sing and bounce through the thin walls of his office as labored breaths continue to snatch out from the pits of your lungs. he’s big, easily allowing the bulbous head of his cock to run through every part of your gummy walls. he nudges through every corner, pounding into your core so good that it makes you choke on inaudible sentences. “we’re burnin’ about probably hundreds of calories right now. hah- all from me bending you over my desk like . . . this.”
you let off a sweet whine, gasping as he’s just leisurely reaming your insides. nanami’s dick dragged its way through each slickly wet nook perfectly, studying every orifice like an equation before solving it with a single thrust. “f- fuck, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a sweetened sob, the scent of freshly printed review papers filling up your nostrils. never in a million years would you have expected the campus nerd to fuck so nasty.
he’s rigorous - just drilling his honed hips into you until you’re entirely stupid with that pretty pink tongue of yours fully lolled out of your mouth.
his dick was insanely long too, and he grunts at the feeling of his plump tip rudely thwacking against the opening of your cervix. “such a pretty thing. even prettier inside, ‘s like she’s trying to answer for you,” and the wooden worn-down desk continued to rumble from the rickety pounds of weight. the stability of your hips was far too weak.. and nanami brings a hand toward your waist. his touch was soft, and you moaned at the feeling of his stubby fingers dancing up and down your skin before a single strenuous thrust reels you back into reality. “hah- tell me, pretty,” he moans between thrusts, the slickness of your cunt glossing down near the lower base of his full shaft. “why is a woman orgasm important, hm?”
“u- um,” you moan, your brain completely fried. his hits were so good - too good, and you’re just dumbly wordless.
nanami’s hips went askew as he made you arch further into his desk, deepening his angle. your face is lightly planted against the papers and you could hear him sneer from behind you.
one second turned into two . . then three . . then seven . .
a weeping whine rips out of your throat once he pivots even deeper, guiding a big hand between your legs. a thumb swirls around your sopping stuffed cunt and he leans in to kiss near your shoulder. “ ‘um’ isn’t a valid answer, dummy,” and your eyes were already mindlessly rolling to the backs of your empty skull.
but oh- the stretch.
he’s jabbing his hips quicker ‘n quicker as greedy hands grab at your bare skin. “c’mooon, use that pretty brain. my smart girl’s gotta be in there somewhere,” and nanami playfully knocks at the top of your head. “at least i hope she is.”
“t- the woman orgasm’s important because it helps out with the uh- pelvic floor muscles and activity.”
“and.”
“and . . it helps boosts fertility.”
“aaand?”
“a- and ‘m cumming!”
“wha- oh,” nanami lowly chuckles, feeling your cunt tighten around him. the clingy wet claps of skin grew louder - violently ricocheting against both pounds of flesh as he scoots your ass up further.
he’s deep, jackhammering his thick cock into you while occasionally fixing his glasses. every few seconds, they’d slide down the bridge of his nose. it irritates him, and you’d hear him scoff under his breath while he’s still ramming into you senseless. “c’mooon then, show me how orgasms help strengthen pelvic floor muscles, sweetheart.”
as you’re just being fucked stupid into the countless marked sheets of your papers, you gasp. stuffed at the very hilt - at least. a single tap of his cockhead against your cervix and that’s a wrap for you. within a blink of an eye—you’re shamelessly creaming down his cock with a wide shaped mouth.
he’s still thickly stretching through your walls, kneading at every compressing wet corner as you’re releasing and you start to whine. “fuck- fuuuck,” you’d whimper, feeling his jagged hips abruptly halt against you. the cold metal buckle of nanami’s belt rubs against your skin as you moan, seeing nothing but mere stars. competing to catch your breath, you huff out a sweet genuine, “did . . did i pass?”
“hmm,” he kisses near your shoulder blade, readjusting his glasses. glancing down, nanami looks at your panties that were lazily pulled to the side and he makes you arch further.
as you’re still panting, nanami clicks his tongue. “ ‘m afraid not. i think we need to learn more about the clitoris,” and nanami takes off his glasses, bringing them towards your slick opening, witnessing it fog from your dripping mess.
with a low titter, he brings them back up to his curved lips before licking the wet lenses, giving your pretty pussy a ‘lecturing’ spank. “specifically yours.”
✩ ˛˚ . SUGURU GETO.
if it’s anything nastier than suguru geto’s tongue, it’s his thick fat cock.
it’s the epitome of sloppy, especially with how it rummages through your insides, roughly circling his tip around the opening of your slick cunt. prone bone would almost always be his favorite too. it was just the way his crushing body weight would hover over yours—nearly suffocating your backside with just a bit of pressure. “sugu- ngh. suguruuu,” you’d croak out, each stinging slap of skin sending swarms of butterflies inside the inner pits of your tummy.
“quiet, doll,” he’d groan, curling a few fingers around your neck. geto’s thumb traces down your exposed nape before he licks at your ear. “fuck- what did i tell you about speakin’ out of turn?” and as your eyes start to wander to the dark abyss depths of your cranium, you whine. he’s in so deep, massaging every sloppy orifice as his fat tip drags its way through your spongey insides. “you speak after she gets a word in,” and you let off a needy sob once geto gently lift your leg. he’s still pressed into you as you’re being rammed into from behind, and that’s when he slides a hand between your legs. gurgling sloshes leave your pussy once he starts to maneuver circles around your entrance and you whine. “uh huuuh. listen to that pretty back talk with me. i know- i know.”
geto’s palm instantly got moist from your dewy juices spurting on his hand—not that he even minded anyway. you were just perfect like this, and each snap of his hips made you lose your mind ten times quicker. you’re already drooling from the mouth too, lazily sticking out your tongue as your arms start to grow feeble. “f- fuck, suguru. spank it. hng- spank it.”
“myyy, isn’t my girl bein’ extra dirty today, hm?” geto huskily purrs against the lobe of your ear. his rhythm was purely ruthless. your eyes were bulging, akin to the size of pinballs once your mouth started to pry open wider once the stretch continued..
his dick’s so fat - from all curving angles, stuffing you entirely with all nth inches of cock. geto could hear your airy pants grow more breathy and he gutturally sighs, smearing faster shapes against your dripping cunt. “ohhh- don’t shy away now,” he snickers, making you raise your head from the pillow you rested on. “not when you’re so fuckin’ wet. repeat what you want me to do, sweetheart.”
he’s a mere tease. you weren’t even facing him directly, but you could tell from just his smug tone alone that he was cockily grinning ear to ear. with a belting whine departing from your lips, you moan out a needy, “s- spank it suguru.”
“pretty please.”
“p… pretty please.”
geto brashly hums, running his free hand down your spine that glosses with sleek sheets of glistening sweet. his cock’s got you arching perfectly, and every inch pumps its way inside of you with occasional wet ‘pops!’ squelching from both sloppy mounds.
“good girl,” he gruffly whispers against your neck, feeling your hectic hips sensually rock back into him. “yeah- like that, princess. throw that cute ass against m . . me, fuck-” and seconds later, you feel the sharp brief sting of a slap against your teary folds. you’re so wet, wetting up his palm as your moans fill the entire room.
one slap turns into two, then three, then four.
you lost count—it was probably around that number, but you were far too dumb from his dick that’s currently got you in such a trance.
“ ‘m gonna..” you gasp out, the bucking of his hips getting more and more nasty. geto’s body rubs off against you and you then feel his palm swat against your ass. smack! and you hear him groan from behind. your cunt’s sucking him in and spitting him out — and the view was godly. all he saw was a pretty, slick mess as you start to dribble clear syrupy sap between your thighs. “cum- gonna cum suguru.”
“you remember how?” geto teases and your chest heaves once he gives your wet pussy a squeeze. not a single thought was in your mind, just how he was destroying your insides inch after fuckin’ inch. .
the flat of your tongue starts to salivate and you whine, nodding cutely before feeling geto’s thrusts deepen. “silly girl. bet you forgot how- should see your face right now,” he huffs, covering your spit-glossed mouth with his wide palm. you end up drooling on his hand and he tchs, smudging your saliva all over your mouth with his palm.
“c’mon then, gimme a show,” he grouses, slowing his hips down for you. geto does this purposely so you could physically feel how much of a stretch he’s barreling inside of your cunt. it’s huge - and you don’t even realize that after you finally came, you were even stupider.
cottony fuzz coils at both of your ears from the inside as your mouth remains open. you’re just whining, babbling out sweet ‘thank you's’ — even though you don’t even know exactly why you’re thanking him.
“hah- you’re welcome.” geto cunningly coos against your neck, planting a thumb on your throbbing clit. you’re so tender, shaking underneath him as you’re still seeing splotches of utter white. his dick had you unable to create coherent words, and geto brings his thumb up to your mouth before dragging it across your lips. “mmh. messy girl. still gotta work on that mouth.”
✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO.
“o- oh fuuuck,” he’d swallow, peering his eyes down toward your wet cunt.
it’s pretty - drippin’ with masses of slippery slick that soaks the entirety of his cock.
sucking in a sharp gasping breath, choso grabs onto your hips before flashing a sheepish grin. he wasn’t in fully in and choso’s already a mess. lazily leaning back against the futon—warm, drowsy eyes meet yours with darkened bags hanging underneath his pretty eyelids. choso can’t keep his eyes off you. his eyes flicker from up to your face, then back between your thighs. “mngh- you’re squeezin’ down on me, baby. don’t think ‘m gonna last.”
“you can last, ‘cho,” you whisper, letting off a sweet moan yourself once his cock smugly barrels itself between your puffed folds. you leave a lustrous shine that glimmers over his aching shaft. with achingly slow hips, you start to jerk forward and you can already see choso’s adam’s apple bobbing. “mmh- that’s it, hold me. touch me choso, ‘s okay.”
with choso though—he didn’t realize just how big he was. his dick stood tall, and its height expanded throughout your gummy walls entirely.
piercing the honed edges of your nails into his shoulders, you whine out a breathy gasp. his cock’s rude, sloppily towering inside of your pussy before starting to puncture a few delicious hits into your slick-flooded core. you’re rocking back ‘n forth, staring into his half-open eyes before burying your face into his neck. “nono-don’t do thaaat. wanna see you,” he’d pout, lifting your face.
choso’s already sweating — dewy droplets face down each side of his forehead before he feels the elastic stretch. he could almost taste it, the sugary sweet stretch. the way choso’s mushroomy tip drags its way up down and round your cunt leaves a tender feeling arising in your tummy. precisely, he marks an ‘x’ through your goopy insides with the crown of his dick like it was some kind of sacred treasure. a far more lewd kind though.
and not only did your hips make him stupid, but your pussy did too. “c- chosoooo,” you’d belt out a three-second whimper, sliding a few fingers down his bare chest. he’s hot, and the more your touch ghosts down his skin, the higher his body temperature rises. “right there- ooh! k- keep fuckin’ me there, baby.”
“god- when you whine my name, ‘s so hot,” he’d sheepishly admit, clawing a hand through his black loose strands. choso’s entire abdomen tightens at the sudden quickening speed of your hips. you’re frantic, slamming your ass up and down on his veiny cock while swerving your hips in a plethora of addicting swerving circles.
a beefy arm of his reaches for the headboard and he grabs onto it tight. you moan, staring as the veins and muscles flex through choso’s bicep. you’re riding him so good that he’s literally got to hold onto the bed for support. “ ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum. s- shit, your pussy’s gonna…..fuck.”
the loud paps of jerking skin only increase, and once you lean in to kiss choso—he submissively leans into your touch.
right away, teeth violently clash together as tongues hungrily delve into each mouth, competitively fighting for their fair shares of dominance. choso moans, sliding a palm toward the edge of your jolting ass. you’re riding him to straight oblivion, and he’s already rolling his eyes back. “mmpf-” he’d let off a gargled moan, bringing a swatting smack towards your rear. “fuckmefuckfuckmeee,” he’d whine into your ear, and now he’s got both hands clinging onto your ass. choso’s dragging you firmly back against his pelvis, making sure you feel him deep inside of your compressing walls.
oh- he was entirely pussy drunk, with you being dick drunk.
choso could see the sleazy smile forming against your lips as your back started to arch. he’s damn big, and you moan the second his fat tip keenly thrashes its way against your pulsating g-spot. that was all it took for you to squeal out a needy ‘ah!’ before your legs ended up locking around his waist.
languidly, he’s digging his fingers into your hips before you end up nibbling on his bottom lip. “ ‘m cummin’ baby. hah- cum with me, be my messy girl. c’mon,” and as he’s rambling, choso wraps his strong arms around you. he’s giving you a gentle bear hug, cutely whining into your chest as his head buries itself in between your soft tits. “mmmph.”
as your hips continued to roll, you eventually ended up finishing - hard. your orgasm had you sobbing out wantons of whimpers as his dick’s plugged you very, very full. glittery ribbons spray into you at the same time, and it’s fiery hot.
choso’s shivering underneath you, still having his arms wrapped around you—never wanting to let go. “f- fuck, choso,” you’d breathe out, hearing his tremoring sighs aerate between your tits. choso rolls out his tongue, licking a stripe down the valley of his chest as he’s still pumping you with miles ‘n miles of sultry hot seed. you hum, coddling his head with one arm as your ass slowly comes to a stop.
a clammy hand of yours grabs at your ass as you turn around, glancing at the ivory oozing clods of cum that dribbles down your pudgy opening. “not . . done,” choso heavily huffs, and you moan once he pushes you to lie on your back. with a soft thud! you land against the cushioned furniture before looking up at him.
choso looks hungrier than ever, and before you knew it — he’s slowly sliding your knees up toward your chest. “f- fuck,” he whines, taking a peak at the strings of cum that continue to race down your lustrous-coated slick.
so pretty,
but in choso’s mind, it could be even prettier.
choso leans in, pressing a kiss between your breasts before sliding a thumb down your cunt. a wet psh! shrieks out of your pussy and he lets off a quivering breath. “you can be a little messier, baby,” he’d whisper, and his tone’s a bit more hoarse now. choso hears you gulp, and once he starts to shove your knees up to your chest, he re-aligns his leaky cream-glossed tip. “ ‘m gonna stuff you fuller,” he pressed his final wet kiss against your lips.
“maybe even give you a baby . . or two . . six, h- heh.”
19K notes · View notes
backpackingspace · 6 months ago
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Banging pots and pans together: the stark children should have been weirder. Also considered slight au where their magic started presenting before they got the wolves
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solxamber · 2 months ago
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You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: Housewardens
Other Parts: Vice-Housewardens; First Years ; Cater, Floyd, Silver, Rollo
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Riddle Rosehearts
The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood and the rustle of fabric as you flopped onto the couch with all the grace of a cat forcibly denied its favorite sunny spot.
The argument still hung in the air, an unspoken tension that neither you nor Riddle were willing to breach—at least not yet. He wasn’t wrong, not entirely, but he wasn’t right either. The impasse was as thick as the silence between you.
Determined to make a statement, you yanked the blanket off the couch arm and cocooned yourself in it, defiantly turning your back to the door. No way were you crawling back to bed tonight. Your pride wouldn’t let you. Let him stew in his perfectly fluffed, oversized bed.
Meanwhile, in his room, Riddle’s impeccable composure was fraying at the edges. He lay stiff as a board under his duvet, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to all his mistakes. His pillows seemed unusually hard, the blankets too suffocating, and no matter how he adjusted, something felt... wrong.
It didn’t take him long to figure out the culprit: you weren’t there.
He groaned softly into the darkness. Guilt clawed at his insides, sharp and relentless, each tick of the clock making it harder to bear. He’d handled things poorly—he could admit that, now that the heat of the argument had ebbed. And worse, he couldn’t bear the thought of you being upset, out there on the couch, all because of his stubbornness.
With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he threw off his blanket and shuffled into the living room. His breath caught when he saw you.
There you were, fast asleep, your cheek smushed against the arm of the couch, one arm dangling off the side. The sight was far too adorable for the emotional train wreck he’d become. His guilt doubled.
Riddle knelt by the couch quietly, determined not to wake you. But as he crouched there, the exhaustion hit him—of the argument, the guilt, the restless tossing and turning. Maybe just sitting here would suffice. He wouldn’t disturb you.
A few minutes turned into an hour. Before he knew it, he’d slumped sideways against the couch, head lolling onto his arms, fast asleep in what had to be the most uncomfortable position imaginable.
When you stirred awake, the morning light was peeking through the curtains. Groggily, you rubbed your eyes, the previous night’s anger feeling like a distant shadow. That was when you noticed him—his normally pristine figure curled up on the floor, head resting uncomfortably close to your dangling hand.
Your chest ached at the sight. The idiot. The sweet, guilty idiot.
You reached out, brushing your fingers lightly against his hair. “Riddle,” you whispered. “Hey… wake up.”
He stirred, blinking up at you with sleep-clouded eyes, disoriented but instantly softening when he saw your face. Without a word, he shifted closer, arms wrapping around your middle as he buried his face against your stomach.
“Don’t go,” he mumbles, voice thick and quiet.
You freeze but quickly recover, leaning into his embrace. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your blanket. “I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand.”
Your throat tightened, and you found yourself carding your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry too,” you whispered. “Let’s not fight like that again.”
For a moment, the two of you just stayed like that, wrapped up in quiet forgiveness. When he finally looked up at you, there was a hesitant, hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Will you come back to bed now?” he asked softly.
“Only if you promise to use it too. No more couch-floor accommodations,” you teased, pinching his cheek lightly.
“Deal,” he murmured, and together, you made your way back—closer than before, warmth filling the space where anger once was.
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Leona Kingscholar
The argument had been sharp, biting, and the kind of fight where you both refused to back down. Storming out of the bedroom felt dramatic enough to match the vibe, so you grabbed a blanket, stomped to the living room, and threw yourself onto the couch with the weight of your indignation. “Fine,” you muttered into the cushions. “Let him have the stupid bed. I don’t care.”
And at the time, you didn't. You were replaying his snarky remarks and cursing his stubborn attitude. But the couch was lumpy, the blanket too short, and sleep came grudgingly after what felt like hours of stewing.
When you finally woke, disoriented and achy, something felt...off. For starters, you weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in the bed, wrapped snugly in the comforter that still carried Leona’s scent.
Blinking against the sunlight, you sat up, confusion clouding your thoughts. At the foot of the bed was the blanket you’d dragged out last night, now neatly folded like some taunting symbol of Leona’s existence.
And Leona himself? Missing.
You slid out of bed and wandered to the living room, where the answer to your mystery lay sprawled across the couch. The sight of him, however, made your irritation waver.
Leona was far too large for the couch. His long legs hung over the edge at weird angles, and one arm was slung over his face to block the light filtering through the curtains. He looked wildly uncomfortable, but his usual arrogance softened in sleep, his face peaceful and unguarded.
It didn’t take a genius to piece it together. He must have carried you to bed sometime in the night, only to exile himself to the lumpy couch. The guy could be maddeningly stubborn, but this... this unexpected gesture had you torn between wanting to yell at him or simply kissing him awake.
Ultimately, you decided to settle for the middle ground.
Crouching next to the couch, you reached out and brushed the stray strands of hair from his face. Before you could withdraw, one eye cracked open, and a lazy grin spread across his lips.
“Caught ya,” he drawled, voice rough from sleep.
You raised an eyebrow. “You moved me to the bed, didn’t you?”
He huffed, clearly uninterested in owning up to the sentimentality of it. “Couldn’t leave you out there whining in your sleep.”
“I wasn’t whining!” you protested, even though your cheeks were burning.
“Sure you weren’t,” he replied smoothly, grabbing your wrist before you could retreat. With a sharp tug, he pulled you down, practically pinning you against him. “Don’t see the big deal. You’re mine, aren’t ya? ‘Course I’m gonna take care of you.”
The casual way he said it didn’t make it any less sincere.
You sighed, melting into his warmth despite yourself. “I hate how sweet you can be when I’m trying to stay mad at you.”
His smirk widened, and he tucked you closer, burying his face in your hair. “Didn’t mean to piss you off,” he murmured against your temple. “But you’re not leaving this couch till we make up. Deal?”
You rolled your eyes, but your voice softened. “Deal.”
As the tension melted away and his arms tightened around you, the couch didn’t seem quite so lumpy anymore. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad place to be.
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Azul Ashengrotto
The argument had been tense, the kind where you both said things you probably shouldn’t have. Frustrated and too stubborn to stay in the same space as Azul, you grabbed a pillow and marched out to the couch. He’d barely tried to stop you, his pride seemingly keeping him rooted in the bedroom.
But pride was a fickle thing, and now you were left trying to fall asleep on the stiff cushions. Every creak of the floorboards made you feel a little guilty, knowing exactly who it was.
You didn’t even need to look; you could feel Azul’s presence lingering in the doorway, his usual composure clearly absent. The sound of shuffling footsteps returned to the bedroom, and you thought maybe he’d finally leave you alone—only to hear those same footsteps inch closer again a minute later.
"Azul, I know you're there," you muttered, cracking an eye open and turning toward the doorway. Sure enough, there he was, peeking out. His glasses caught the faint glow of the hallway light, and he immediately froze like he’d been caught stealing treasure.
“I-I wasn’t...” he started, before trailing off, clearly scrambling for an excuse.
You sighed and sat up, your frustration ebbing in the face of how uncharacteristically sheepish he looked. This was Azul Ashengrotto, the calculating businessman who could sell ice to Yetis—and yet he couldn’t even apologize without peering at you like a child who’d been scolded.
“If you’re just going to lurk there all night, we’re both going to lose sleep,” you said, finally beckoning him over with a wave.
Azul hesitated for a fraction of a second before his composure cracked, and he shuffled toward the couch. “I didn’t mean for things to escalate...” he started, sitting next to you, his head ducked low, voice soft.
You smirked despite yourself. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”
He bristled, his dignity rallying as he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “I am not—”
“You’re very cute,” you interrupted, and the smallest flicker of a pout crossed his lips.
Azul looked away, a hint of color dusting his pale cheeks. “You’re the worst.”
“And you still love me,” you countered, pulling him down beside you. “Truce?”
He glanced at you, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. “Truce.”
Apologies came in murmured exchanges after that, both of you acknowledging where you’d gone wrong. You knew you’d both let pride get in the way—typical for two people as headstrong as yourselves.
Eventually, Azul’s head rested on your shoulder, his warm weight grounding you. You leaned back against the couch, and despite its discomfort, it felt perfect with him there.
“You know,” you whispered, running a hand gently through his hair, “for a guy who’s made half of Twisted Wonderland sign contracts, you really can’t stand your ground for the life of you.”
Azul huffed, turning his face into your shoulder to hide. “Do you want me to apologize again?”
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Nope. I think I’ll just enjoy this.”
And with that, the two of you finally let the tension of the argument melt away, falling asleep together on the couch in an imperfect, perfectly “you and Azul” sort of peace.
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Kalim Al-Asim
The argument had been uncharacteristically heated—rare for someone as sunny and easygoing as Kalim—but even he had limits, and so did you. When your stubborn streak flared, it ended with you grabbing a blanket and storming off to the couch.
“No, Kalim, I’m fine. You sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep here,” you snapped, cutting off his attempts to follow you. His face fell, but for once, he didn’t argue, retreating to the bedroom with a defeated slump of his shoulders.
You burrowed into the couch cushions, determined to stay mad, but as sleep started to claim you, the anger dulled into annoyance. It didn’t matter. He started it, you thought stubbornly, clutching the blanket tighter.
A soft rustle of fabric woke you, tugging you from the edges of sleep. Blinking groggily, you turned your head to see Kalim crouched beside the couch, carefully tucking another blanket over you. He had his tongue poking out slightly in concentration, his touch so gentle that it was clear he didn’t want to wake you.
“What are you doing?” you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.
Kalim flinched, looking at you like a startled puppy caught raiding the kitchen. “Oh, I—uh—I just thought you might be cold, so I…”
He trailed off, clearly expecting you to brush him off again. Instead, you sighed, your irritation melting as you realized just how ridiculous he looked, trying to coddle you even while you were angry at him.
“Come here,” you said, sitting up and pulling the blanket back a bit.
“What? No, I don’t want to—”
“Kalim.”
His protest crumbled immediately, and he slid onto the couch beside you, tucking his legs up awkwardly. You wrapped the blanket over both of you, and after a moment of stunned hesitation, Kalim relaxed into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice small and earnest. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
You sighed, tilting your head to rest on his. “I’m sorry too. I overreacted.”
He perked up slightly at that, his usual cheer trying to peek through. “So… does this mean you won’t sleep out here alone again?”
“You’re lucky I’m even letting you under this blanket, Asim,” you teased, though your smile softened the words.
Kalim beamed, his arms wrapping snugly around your middle. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me forever!”
You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning back into the cushions. The couch wasn’t exactly built for two people, but the warmth of his presence made it easy to ignore. Slowly, you both drifted to sleep, Kalim murmuring sweet nothings even as his breaths evened out.
Maybe next time, you thought sleepily, you’d just let him win.
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“You can have your perfectly fluffed pillows and skincare routine in peace,” you muttered, tucking yourself in with a spiteful sense of triumph.
Vil Schoenheit
The argument left both of you simmering in silence, which for Vil was a rarity. Instead of his usual icy composure, he seemed genuinely rattled. You, however, weren’t in the mood to care. Grabbing a blanket with theatrical flair, you stomped to the couch.
Once comfortably cocooned, you scrolled on your phone, trying to drown out the lingering annoyance. That’s when you heard it—sharp, purposeful footsteps marching toward you.
Before you could react, Vil appeared like a vengeful storm god, looking every bit as flawless as a deity would while furious. With a huff that could make kingdoms tremble, he reached for your arm and began dragging you back to the bedroom.
“Vil, what are you—let me go! I’m fine out here!” you protested, but his grip was firm, his annoyance palpable.
Once you were unceremoniously deposited by the bed, he turned to you, pointing at your neatly made side. “You are sleeping there,” he declared.
You folded your arms. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Deal with it.”
He tilted his head, his expression a dangerous blend of frustration and disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’ve ruined my entire evening, and now you expect me to suffer further by sleeping alone?”
“Ruined? Seriously?” you shot back.
“Yes! I require my beauty sleep, and I can’t possibly get it knowing you’re out there, sulking on a couch. It’s impossible to relax without you next to me—so you, are going to have to take responsibility!”
The sheer audacity of his statement left you blinking. It was so dramatic and entirely Vil that you couldn’t help it—you laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full-bodied, slightly wheezing laugh that made you clutch your sides.
Vil crossed his arms, arching an offended brow. “I fail to see what’s funny.”
“You,” you said between giggles. “This whole ‘it’s your fault I can’t sleep because I love you’ nonsense. You’re ridiculous.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he sighed, and once your laughter subsided, he gestured to the bed again, this time more softly. “Please. Don’t make me sleep without you.”
You relented, sliding under the blankets. As you settled in, Vil switched off the lights, the room going still.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly after a moment. His tone was sincere, lacking the sharp edges from earlier.
You shifted closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him gently against you. “I’m sorry too.”
Vil let out a contented hum, nestling into your hold. With your body heat mingling and the earlier tension dissipating, it didn’t take long for both of you to fall asleep—together, as it should be.
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Sleep came in patches, your mind replaying the fight in a loop. At some point, the dull ache in your bladder forced you to stumble toward the bathroom. On your way back, you froze, hearing quiet, panicked murmurs drifting from Idia’s room.
Idia Shroud
The argument had been rough—sharp words, bitter edges, the kind of fight that left your chest heavy. It didn’t matter how much Idia stammered his way through an apology or tried to explain his side; you weren’t ready to hear it yet. So, in an act of frustrated finality, you grabbed a blanket and retreated to the couch, refusing to spare him another glance.
“Ortho, what do I do? I think I really messed up this time,” his voice wavered, thick with worry. “They probably hate me now. Like, actual hate—no respawn, no restart. I mean, who else would put up with me? I’ve completely blown it.”
You sighed, anger ebbing as guilt trickled in. You hadn’t meant to push him that far, and his usual self-deprecating spiral sounded more frayed than usual.
Pushing the door open, you caught the tail end of Ortho’s voice. “Big Brother, you should—oh!” His robotic eyes darted to you, scanning the scene. A moment later, he gave a tiny thumbs-up and practically zoomed out of the room, leaving you and Idia alone.
Idia froze when he noticed you. His shoulders hunched as if he could shrink his already wiry frame. “I-I didn’t mean for you to hear that. Sorry for being pathetic. Again.”
Rolling your eyes fondly, you stepped forward and opened your arms. “Come here, you dramatic dork.”
His eyes widened, hesitation etched into every inch of his posture. When you didn’t move or drop your arms, he finally shuffled over, nervously slipping into your embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him securely, and his entire body seemed to deflate as tension drained out of him.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” he admitted, voice muffled against your shoulder.
You huffed softly, rubbing his back. “Idia, I wasn’t leaving. Just... needed space to cool off. And honestly, hearing you lose your mind over it made it hard to stay mad.”
“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” he mumbled, the words tumbling in an embarrassed rush. “Um, does this mean...?”
“It means I still love you,” you interrupted gently.
His grip on you tightened for a moment before he pulled back, pink dusting his cheeks and his hair glowing pink at the ends. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice so soft you almost missed it.
“I’m sorry too,” you replied, kissing his cheek and earning a startled squeak.
Together, you made your way back to bed. As you settled under the blankets, his fingers tangled hesitantly with yours. The argument seemed miles away now, replaced by the steady warmth of simply being with him.
“I’ll try to be better,” he murmured into the quiet.
“You’re already enough, Idia,” you replied, squeezing his hand.
And as you drifted off to sleep, you felt his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your knuckles, grounding both of you in the quiet comfort of reconciliation.
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Malleus stood frozen for a moment, processing your declaration, and you could feel his pout even with your back turned. "You do not need to sleep on the couch," he finally said.
Malleus Draconia
The argument left both of you tense, and you were too mad to deal with Malleus' brooding silence. Grabbing a blanket, you stormed off toward the couch, refusing to even glance at him. "I'm sleeping on the couch," you announced. "Goodnight."
"I'm not changing my mind," you shot back, tossing the blanket onto the couch for emphasis.
There was a brief, sulking pause. Then, he went quiet—suspiciously quiet. You peeked over your shoulder just in time to catch him crossing his arms with a look of smug triumph spreading across his face.
“Malleus—”
Before you could finish the thought, a flash of green lightning struck the couch, reducing it to a pile of ash with alarming precision. You stood there, jaw dropping as the faint smell of charred upholstery wafted in the air.
"Well," Malleus said, ever so matter-of-factly, "it seems the couch is… out of commission. A most unfortunate turn of events."
You turned to him, dumbfounded. "Did you seriously just smite your own couch?"
He looked at you expectantly, his lips pressed into an overly calm smile. "The bed is still available," he offered, gesturing toward the bedroom as though that solved everything.
Your anger reignited—if that was even possible after witnessing such sheer audacity. Without a word, you dropped your blanket onto the floor, flopping down dramatically as if making it your personal mission to out-stubborn a dragon fae.
He stared at you in bewilderment, clearly expecting a different outcome. For a long moment, he didn’t move, as though trying to process your act of defiance. Then, with an audible sigh, he finally caved.
“Alright,” he said softly, crouching to your level. His eyes held a rare vulnerability. “I… overreacted. I apologize for upsetting you.”
You bit back a smirk, pretending to be unimpressed even as you felt your resolve softening. "I wasn’t thrilled about it, yeah."
Malleus tilted his head, something of a pout returning to his expression. “Will you come back to bed, then? The floor hardly befits someone so precious to me.”
“Only if you promise not to zap anything else," you teased, finally relenting as you reached out to take his offered hand.
He helped you up gently, his grip firm but careful, as though he feared breaking you. “I cannot promise to never act rashly in defense of my love,” he murmured, leading you back to the room.
Settling into the bed together, you couldn’t resist poking at him one last time. “You really destroyed your own couch just to keep me near you, huh? You know they make couple’s therapy for this, right?”
He chuckled softly, pulling you close. “I would smite an entire castle if it meant you stayed by my side.”
“Noted,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the warmth in your chest. As you both drifted off, tangled in the sheets, you couldn’t help but think how absurdly lucky you were to be loved by someone so dramatic—and so utterly devoted.
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