#now my brain is going brrrrrrrrr

[greykolla-art]

So much crime, not enough lunch brakes.

And this is a manic gangster…but could be a pillow.👀

[buildoblivionthenwewilltalk]

you can tell work is stressing me out atm because the last week my mental state has just been like

[boy-kings-court]

no but a fic about 20s or even pre-series sam as rowena's protégé in witchcraft would fix me actually

[myreputatioooon]

SIGNALIS : The Hybrid Crisis AU

—————————————————

Eusan Nation is as fine an dandy as a dystopia can be and then whoopdeedoop All the Replickas simultaneously report back pains and maybe other pains. Those that didn't were hiding their issues

Also at the same time Replickas of the same model suddenly wanna commit the same behaviors that feel right but can hardly explain

Those that give in early on are quick to be decommissioned, all the whole everyone is cluelessly trying to figure out what the fuck is going on and how to stop it

They take too long bickering on how to proceed and wham kabam whatever TF is causing all the Replickas pain shows itself in a bloody gory burst that is a wee bit dragged out and it's WINGS AND FEATHERS AND MAYBER EVEN TALONS!

Also they have Bird instincts wholly unrestricted, better get to it Government

Who's to blame?

Bioresonence & the Red Eye is to blame it's the perfect plot device

Anyways Eusan is stuck with Bird hybrid machine people and any new Replickas they try and make afterwards come outta the gate with wings & instincts as well. How much chaos and change occurs cuz of this? Idk

—————————————————

[chain-draws-stuff]

Sooo uhh remember the the last few post I did? Yeah the lil doodle of my EndKing!Steve oc? Yeah that one so uhh herew the final result! :D (I was also kind of a rush on this one)

Ender pearl heart >:]

I kind of changed the position or the posture while I was drawing and the color I wanted for it to go on so it can blend in the whole 'end God' thing, and as for the pose it because I thought the pose was to boring and to simple but I guess this was the final results of the art I did and here's a lil more info about this character!

Yeah there sealed away for like centuries well technically more than a century and but hey you know me (or not-) I'm clearly a professional idiot when it comes to something serious I will immediately do nothing but do random useless shit, now moving on. This 'he' or the 'Nether King' is actually there little brother :D and when they got out from being sealed away there now in this phantom like state which there like a ghost.

I'm clearly spoiling the story for you guys aren't I? And you guys love it don't you?

I'm still working on the next few chapters don't worry, and that's also one of the reasons why I'm taking too long to post or continue the story so uhh just wait a little longer don't worry ill post it anytime soon :)

I also won't be posting anything tomorrow(maybe) because I have to get something to help my little brother with his project and it was his birthday tomorrow :]

And the ask box will be open until tomorrow so if you want to ask me something this is your opportunity to do it have a good night/noon/day! <3

[fstbmp-a]

Instead of abating the urge for the Black Knight stuff, it has in fact been intensified.

[usamey]

OUGHHHHHHHHHH

[sakurarisen]

Rebirth and Sera babbling under cut-

Me? Still in the grasslands? You're imagining i- Okay yeah no I'm still exploring. XD But I swear, the graphics and scenery are just gorgeous? And the lifesprings are giving me some serious brain brrrrr's regarding Sera and what and where she was prior to coming to Midgar and meeting Zack - Namely I'm willing to bet she found a couple of koi fish in the pond in the one just south of Kalm and that's where she stayed for a bit prior to getting her tattoo... I miiight have a ton of HCs just waiting to be written up and a really, REALLY good idea of Sera's time in Kalm and just how much she took to the place before she ended up in Midgar just before CC.

Also I can't be the only one who wants Chadley to shut up already, can I-

[scarefox]

It's 3am, come ride with me..

[wishlikes]

the thing about my rottmnt/lotr fusion au is that i am looking Very Closely at the scenes i'm redrawing. the backgrounds and props and people's clothes. it's all incredibly gorgeous and i have a new appreciation for the level of effort that went into these movies. i also can't unsee the fact that the scene i'm drawing right now was clearly shot in daylight and then lovingly colorgraded into a beautifully visible night scene

[pluck-heartstrings]

You don't know what you've done. You've put y/n in an animatronic suit. You've put y/n in an animatronic suit with unknown springlock capabilities. You've had the notoriously finicky corporation in charge leave said animatronic's personality and story vauge *to be determined by the person wearing the suit*. They've arranged for said person to be on payroll in an official but very invisible capacity. My brain is a veritable vibrating mush right now because its wants so very bad for y/n to die in and haunt that robot for all its worth. Animatronic!y/n as an endgame for crazy and cheap AI training for shitty conglomerate. The angst is real and bloody. Three way robot romance go BRRRRRRRRR

I know exactly what I’ve done. >:)

[hitomisuzuya]

childe & scara x reader where they both just fucking manhandle herrr… scrqtches my. brain so good i love these two,,

A/n: That makes my brain go brrrrrrrrr.

Smut. Sparring that turns into a threesome. Some choking and degradation. Scara uses his Electro Delusion. Childe's parts are a little longer than Scara's, I wanted to get a feel for writing him since it's my first time doing so. Please, enjoy.

Childe x reader x Scaramouche

Your breathing was heavy, your e/c eyes darting between Scaramouche and Childe. You'd proudly proclaimed you could stand even with them in a sparring match. And boy did you ever prove it.

You wielded your Cryo vision masterfully, coming at both of them with your sword, chilling the air around you, coming at them like you had an intent to kill. His arms actually aches from blocking of your kicks.

It thrilled and excited Childe, the hairs on his arms standing up. He fired off a volley of Hydro arrows at you. You slashed the air, freezing them. You were breathtaking, a sight to behold. If you weren't careful, you were going to stir his Foul Legacy to life.

Oh yes, Childe was starting to feel horny, incredibly horny. He could tell your stamina was starting to waver, and that's when he pounced. You made the mistake of blinking too long.

"Nice moves, girlie." Childe sped towards you, bumping his elbow into the middle of your chest. Your eyes widened, stunned.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche had been running interference for Childe further away with his Delusion. His indigo eyes were shamelessly trained on your body, especially the way your breasts bounced when you dodged his Catalyst attacks, Electro crackling when it made contact with your ice.

You gasped, feeling his Electro prickle against back of your neck. "Too bad you didn't tie your hair back," he was just as fast as Childe, his voice suddenly right next your ear behind you. Scaramouche swiftly wrapped your long h/c hair around his hand, jerking you backwards onto your back as he kicked your feet out from under you. He was a little less gentle than Childe.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs, your sword clattering to the ground before it dematerialized. Scaramouche made sure your head didn't hit the ground when you landed. It was just a sparring match after all.

Childe crawled on top you. He rested a knee between your legs, rubbing it against your panties, feeling glad you'd woren skirt, giving him easy access. He rubbed until you were soaking the fabric of his pants, enjoying the way you writhed and moaned. "Judging from the way your body is reacting, I'd say you want to fuck now instead of fight."

Scaramouche wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly. Your moans were making him hard. You'd been so headstrong during your sparring match, you needed to be dominated, manhandled into submission. Growling, he released his cock from his shorts.

"I..yield," you were struggling to breath, your orgasm beginning to build from the oxygen deprivation. "Fuck me, pl..ease," was all you could manage to choke out.

Childe watched as Scaramouche jacked himself off leaking precum to dribble onto your lips. He grinned, feral when your tongue swept out to lick it off your lips. He wasted no time bunching your skirt up around your hips, peeling your panties off, your pussy slick and ready for him.

Scaramouche tore your shirt, fondling you while Childe buried his cock to the hilt inside you, groaning when he bottomed out. "Hold her wrists above her head," he batted Scaramouche's hand away from your throat, letting you drag precious air into your lungs.

"Don't order me around," Scaramouche snapped, but doing as Childe asked. It was getting harder and harder to keep his composure, his dick throbbing in his hands. "Hurry up, Childe, you stupid loser." He didn't want to cum in his hand.

Your breasts bounced as Childe pounded into you. You clung to him, nails clawing at his back, each thrust splitting your walls open, making wet, lewd noises. Pleasured moans and screams tore from your throat, spurring Childe on. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," He moaned huskily. Leaning down, he bit your lips, kissing you. They felt so erotic, your tongue wet and warm, curling around his.

Scaramouche crouched down and rubbed your clit, bring you to orgasm faster, he was done being patient. You screamed Childe's name, urging him to empty himself inside you, your walls clenching around his cock, feeling dizzy from your release.

His body trembled, orgasm hitting him like a freight train. "I'll fill you good, girlie, don't you worry," he panted in your ear, his cum painting the inside of your cunt.

The moment Childe pulled out of you, Scaramouche flipped you over onto your stomach, hastily thrusting inside of you, pulling your hips up to grip them for leverage. "How you are still so tight, slut? Childe practically fucked your brains out," he panted, grunting as he fucked you. It felt like heaven to finally have his cock scrapping against your walls. Your clit throbbed, twitching from overstimulation.

You were so blissfully fucked out, your throat sore, voice hoarse. You cried out Scaramouche's name, your arms no longer being able to yourself up by the time Scaramouche cummed inside of you.

[spiderispunk]

Dangerous

Pairing: Billy Russo x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Smut (18+ only please). Knife Play. D/s Dynamics. Restraints. Oral Sex (f!receiving). Fingering. Unprotected Sex. Teeny Tiny Breeding Kink. Aftercare.

A/N: I have no defense for this. Billy with knives just makes me brain go brrrrrrrrr. This is a continuation of my 2021 Kinktober fic. All typos and mistakes are my own.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Billy asks for what has to have been the 20th time in the last five minutes. He looms over you, checking the silk ties that secure your hands above your head. “Because we can stop. Just say the word.” 

You look up at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you eye the slender silver knife– one of a twin set– he holds in his hand. “Yes.” The word leaves you in an embarrassingly breathless squeak. 

You were more than sure. 

You’ve wanted this ever since you saw him train with the same knives a few months ago. There was something equal parts dangerous and alluring about him at that moment. The way Billy sliced and jabbed with such precision. The sharp blades slashing through the fabric of the burlap dummies, spilling tufts of cotton onto the floor. The beautiful, yet menacing, arc of the steel knife as it whistled through the air and embedded itself in the wooden post across the room. You could barely suppress the fire you felt as you watched Billy lunge and strike, fluid and graceful like a lethal dancer. 

Then came the dreams. Short and lustful things. The delicious slide of cool steel along your skin. The skate of the knife on your skin; not sharp enough to draw blood, but just enough pressure for you to feel it. The intoxicating lull of risk, the thrill of being under Billy’s control. The filthy snapshots had provided enough fodder for your sessions of self-gratification to last weeks. 

Yes, you’d wanted this for a while. It just took a couple drinks and a risky game of Truth or Dare to get you to work up the courage and say it out loud. And Billy, well, he had just grinned slyly like the cat that got the cream. 

“If we do this,” Billy mumbles, running his fingertips over the hollow of your throat to trace the dips of your collarbone. “You’re gonna have to stay completely still. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m not into that.” 

You twist your wrists, testing the strength of Billy’s knots. They hold fast. No way you’re going anywhere until he sets you free. You draw your lips into a pout.

“Don’t give me that look,” Billy says with a sharp shake of his head. “I want you to enjoy this. I want to enjoy this. So stay still, you understand?” 

“Okay.” You nod. 

Billy goes rigid. He rolls his shoulders back and tilts his head to the side. “‘Okay?’” There’s an authoritative edge on his tongue, and his eyebrow ticks upwards sharply. 

You swallow thickly, heat already building in your stomach at the switch in demeanor. “Yes, sir.” Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. 

“Good girl.” Billy squeezes your chin. “Safeword?” 

“Starfish.” You respond.

“Color?” 

“Green,” you huff impatiently, trying to rub your thighs together, but the weight of his body on top of yours stops you. 

Billy presses his lips to yours softly, and sucks on your bottom lip in lieu of a reward. “We’ll take it slow, okay?” 

Even though taking it slow is the last thing you want him to do right now, you nod.

He holds the knife in front of your face, letting it catch the light, so you can see what he’s doing. Then, slowly, he turns the blade over so the blunt side is facing you and lowers it ever so slightly. 

You let out the most desperate noise when the knife touches your throat, and it takes every bit of strength inside of you to remain motionless as Billy drags the blade down the slope of your neck. He holds it against your pulse for a moment, relishing in the hitch in your chest as the smooth bit shallowly presses into your skin. His dark eyes follow your every move, fascination etching itself into his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. 

Billy’s free hand reaches behind him to slide up your thigh and comes to rest between your legs. He pushes your panties to the side and delves a finger between your dripping folds. The knife stays frozen in place, his hand holding steady, even as he plays with the slick between your thighs. 

He’s completely in control. Exactly how he likes to be. Exactly how you want him. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Billy breathes, circling a finger around your throbbing clit. “Me pressing a knife to your throat while I play with your pussy?” 

“I do.” Your voice is broken. 

“Fuck, beautiful. You’re not even fighting it.” He puts more pressure on your  clit and you whine. “You’re just gonna let me do whatever I want to you as long as I have this, hm?” The knife glides a little lower, caressing the curve of your shoulder. 

You tilt your head back, baring your throat to him. “I trust you.” 

You do. You really do. You’ve never doubted him for a moment. Not his love for you, not his promise to take care of you. He is so confident in his movements, so sure. The knife he holds is almost an extension of his body. Caressing your skin exactly like his fingertips would. You feel completely safe. 

Billy lets out a noncommittal hum, but you can tell the words mean a lot to him by the light flush that dances over his jaw. He slips the knife under the strap of the thin lacy bra you’re wearing and flicks his wrist. The band breaks as easily as if it were made of butter. 

You don’t even have it in you to scold him for ruining the lingerie, you just sit there limply and whimper. He repeats the motion with the other band and traces the blade over the top of your breasts. 

Billy chuckles darkly. “You’re soaking.” He easily presses his fingers into your cunt  and curls them slightly.  

Understatement of the century. You think this is the wettest you’ve ever been. You can feel the warmth of it dripping down your inner thighs and pooling on the sheets. 

“Breathe, baby,” he chides, digging the blade against your sternum and slicing up between the cups of your bra. The lacy material falls away in two parts and Billy lifts the knife away from your skin, giving you a chance to move. 

You exhale and shift under Billy’s weight. “Shit.” 

You’re on cloud 9 right now. Dizzy and weightless with pleasure.  Your heart flits in your chest, and adrenaline courses through your body. You feel as if you’ve just run a marathon, and Billy’s barely even touched you yet. 

“Open.” Billy teases his fingers against your lips. 

You suck them into your mouth, eager for the taste of you on his skin. You swirl your tongue around the pad of his fingers, and Billy pushes them deeper into your mouth. You gag slightly, eyelids fluttering shut.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, smearing your own spit onto your cheeks and chin. “Still green?” He searches your gaze for any sign of hesitation. 

“Yes,” you all but whimper. “Can we keep going? Please?” You ask. Anticipation builds in your chest, and your stomach turns and flips with butterflies. 

He chuckles, low and quiet. “Look at you begging for it.” He presses the knife flat against the side of your breast. “Should have ran from the room screaming. Any other sane person would’ve, but not you. Not my dirty girl,” Billy murmurs, pride lacing his voice. 

You preen at the praise, give him a heavy-lidded look that makes him curse under his breath. Your eyes slide down his body, to the obvious erection he’s sporting in his boxers. 

Billy follows your gaze and snorts. “See what you do to me?” He asks, rolling his hips against your stomach with a groan. “Drive me fucking crazy. You’re the prettiest girl in the whole goddamn world. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.” 

“I want you to touch me.” 

“Where?” His eyes dart down your body. 

“Anywhere. Just–fuck–please.”

Billy hums. His fingers move again, charting a path down your body.

You strain your neck to watch him trace your body with the knife’s blade. Silver against your supple skin. He takes his time, following every dip and curve. You let out a whimper when the cool edge rolls over the peaked bud of your nipples, fight the urge to jump when it trails over your stomach. Everywhere the knife goes, it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

He shimmies down the bed to kneel between your parted legs and pushes your thighs further apart. Two fingers fill your aching pussy, thrusting slowly, as if he means to savor every moment. 

“Fucking beautiful,” Billy murmurs, and kisses the inside of your knee. 

His fingers fill you deliciously. Perfectly fucking you with slow drags. In. Out. His practiced touch sets your body aflame. Between the knife on your skin and his fingers inside of you, you’re already embarrassingly close to coming.

Billy runs the knife over the waistband of your panties and you buck your hips forward. You can’t help it. The promise of more sets your blood aflame. 

“Hey,” he warns, voice clipped. 

“Sorry,” you whisper sheepishly.  

“You’re such a mess, baby,” Billy says with a cocky grin. He hooks the blade into the elastic. “What do you want?” 

You don’t speak--you can’t. You’re too choked up with lust, the most you can muster is a quiet whisper of his name. 

Billy’s fingers still within you. “That’s not an answer. I asked what you wanted.” He clicks his tongue. “Use your words.”

“I--I want--” You stutter. “I want you.” 

“Want me to what?” He rewards you with a slow thrust of his fingers. “Hm? What should I do to you?” His lips brush up along the inside of your quivering thighs. Billy buries his nose into the damp fabric and moans. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me what you want,” he whispers. 

You shudder as his warm breath fans over your panties, seeps through the soaking fabric and over your cunt.

“Fuck me.” You finally gather up the strength to say. “I want you to fuck me. Press that knife against my throat while you make me come.” 

Billy makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat at your words. His eyes meet yours, dark in their intensity which matches the fevered pitch of your voice. A slow smirk spreads over his face, and when he speaks, his tone is tight and measured. 

“I will, baby. I promise. I just want to get my mouth on you, yeah?” he mumbles. “That alright with you? Can I taste your sweet pussy? Make you come on my tongue first?” 

You throw your head back against the pillow, bite your bottom lip so hard you might draw blood. “Fuck, Billy, please.” 

His large hand lands on your clit. The impact stings and you cry out. 

“Who?” He snaps.

“Sir.” You correct yourself. “I’m sorry.” 

“Shh. It’s okay, beautiful.” Billy soothes the sting away with his thumb. “Let’s try again, yeah? I asked if you were gonna let me taste your pretty pussy, and you say?” His eyebrows raise expectantly.

You swallow thickly. “Yes, sir.” 

“There she is,” He whispers against the crux of your thigh. “That’s a good girl. Now, relax, baby. Let me take care of you.” 

The knife saws through the soaked lace of your underwear. He tugs the scraps down and off your legs, and settles between your thighs once more. His thumb swirls around your clit again, the pressure just enough to keep you on edge, but not take you over.

Billy starts at your knee, kissing the side of it. Then his lips trail down your thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your heated skin. His tongue dips out for a taste, swirling and swirling and driving you into a frenzy. A frenzy intensified when he bites down, leaving perfect crescent marks behind. He stays like this, teasing you slowly, until you’re a whimpering mess beneath him. 

It’s all too much. The warm, wet slick of his tongue. The rough scrape of his beard. The subtle circling of his thumb on your clit. And there, hanging over all of it, the cool press of the knife against your body. A silent assertion of control. 

Your whispered, desperate pleas, don’t have your intended effect of hurrying him along. If anything, he slows down further. Watching the internal battle you wage to stay still, even as you’re being slowly wound up, with a dark grin on his face. Savoring the sight of you so shameless, so wanton.

Just when his lips finally reach your aching pussy– just when you start to think that maybe he’ll have mercy on you and give you some kind of relief– Billy switches to your other thigh, and the taunting ritual starts all over again. 

You huff impatiently, grinding your hips up against his thumb for more friction. The fog of lust that washes over your mind leaves no room for rational thought of warnings or consequences.  

Billy sighs. “Oh, sweetheart. Wish you hadn’t done that. Wish you woulda just stayed still for me.” His thumb stops, and he sits back on his knees.

“No, no, no,” you whine, tears springing to your eyes. “It was an accident.” 

“Oh,” Billy coos. “Is that right? Looked like you were getting greedy, honey.”

You blink up at him, eyes wide and apologetic. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Please, I just need you so badly.” 

“That’s twice tonight, honey. I think you’re forgetting who’s calling the shots here.” Billy twirls the knife deftly between his fingers, reminding you of the power he has over you. “Do I need to remind you?” 

You shake your head, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You watch the blade glint in the light of the room. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Billy leans over you. His lips brush your own when he speaks, just a harsh whisper pushed out between gritted teeth. “Who’s in charge?” The cold steel of the knife slides across your jaw. “Answer me.” 

“You are,” you choke out. 

“I’m what?” His breath fans over your face, making your head spin.

“You’re in charge,” you whisper hoarsely. And then to sweeten the deal, you add. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again. I’ll be a good girl.”

Billy cocks his head to the side, and studies you for a moment. To forgive or not forgive? That is the question. You’re just on the verge of antysness, when he slowly smiles. 

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty, and I’m just as wound up as you are.” His lips move to your ear. “But forget the rules again, and I won’t be so nice.” 

All traces of patient, teasing Billy are gone when he rests between your legs again. His mouth latches onto your clit immediately, lips sucking and slurping against the sensitive bud until you’re shaking. It’s a lot, it’s too much. Too fast. Almost like he’s making up for lost time. As if there’s a lesson buried in the quick flicks of his tongue that send fire racing up your spine. 

Be careful what you wish for. 

Your breath catches in your throat, finally working its way out in a scream of unintelligible syllables. His name amongst other things. Pleas to keep going. Praises. Curses. 

“Fuck, it’s so good. Your mouth feels so good,” you whimper.

Billy pulls away for just a moment to say, “Attagirl. Tell me how much you like it when I put my mouth on you.” Then his lips are back on you, all over you, in you. The thrust of his tongue inside your cunt nearly sends you over the edge. 

You’re burning alive. Skin heated, body humming like a live wire. And Billy’s at the center of it all. The epicenter of the earthquake rumbling through you, threatening to knock you off kilter. To tear you apart and reduce you to rubble.  

You lean into the chaos. The sensation of his lips sliding over your slick pussy. The greedy smacks of his mouth, the sated moans he tucks into you. It wouldn’t take you long to come all over his face, not if he kept this up.

“Please,” you whine, legs shaking under the weight of your impending orgasm. “Can I come, please?” 

“Look who’s found some manners,” he mumbles, a teasing lilt coloring his words. “Go on, baby. Since you asked so nicely. Show me how pretty you look when you come.” He slides two fingers into your dripping cunt and slurps your clit back into his mouth. 

The curl of his fingers inside of you is the breaking point. Permission granted, you squeeze your eyes shut and give yourself over to the warmth welling up inside you. Heat bursts in your stomach, coursing through your veins. Up your spine, and out to your fingers, your toes. 

Your back arches, hips nearly lifting off of the mattress as your orgasm washes over you. Billy drops the knife and roughly grabs your waist. He holds you down, wrenching wave after wave of pleasure from your body with his fingers and tongue. Taking and taking all that he can from you until he’s satisfied and sure you’re thoroughly fucked out. 

You see stars, body twitching against the sensations that are both so good but too much. The silk ties dig into your wrists from the way you tug at them. Your clipped nails dig red crescents into your palms. Your bottom lip, bruised and ragged from your teeth, prickles with the sharp taste of blood. You must’ve finally split the skin.

You’re still shaking with the aftershocks of your blissful orgasm, when Billy finally pulls back. He sits up on his knees to take in the sight of you. His wild eyes flit over your glistening body. Dark strands of his hair stick to his forehead with sweat. His swollen lips shine with a filthy mix of his spit and your cum.  

“Th-thank you.” Your words slur, nearly running together. 

He cups your chin and swipes his thumb over your split lip. “Did so good for me, honey. ‘M proud of you.” 

A bashful smile spreads over your face. The weight of his words burrowing deep into your chest and filling you with warmth.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, hand sliding down the front of your body once more. “Color?” 

“Still green.” 

“Good. I think you’re ready to take my cock, don’t you?” 

“Yes, sir.” You nod eagerly. 

Billy shoves his boxers down his legs and grabs the fallen knife once more. You ogle him shamelessly. Eyes following the sharply carved muscles of his lower stomach, down to the light, neatly trimmed, patch of hair. Then the curve of his cock, hard and aching. Your mouth waters at the sight. 

He shifts up your body, eyes glued to your splayed form. Gently, he places the knife back on your throat, and then fists his hand around his waiting cock. Billy groans, both at the sight of you and at the slow strokes he gives himself. Not enough to make himself come, but just the right amount of pressure to hold him off so he wouldn’t explode as soon as he thrust into you. 

With Billy, it was all about control. Balance. 

You watch him, lips parted and mouth dry. Watch the precum that drips onto your stomach. Watch lightning crackle in his nearly black eyes. The deep flush that washes over his face, down his neck, his scarred chest. The slack of his jaw as he starts to lose himself. The subtle thrust of his hips into his hands. 

A private show, just for you. You take it all in. 

And then Billy’s decided he’s had enough of his hand, and only wants the real thing. He sits between your spread legs and slides a pillow under your hips. 

“Gonna fuck you now.” He whispers, carefully positioning your body the way he wants you. “And I can’t be gentle.” 

Good. You don’t want him to be. You want him hard, and fast, and rough, and just on the verge of pain. You want the bed frame to squeal, and the headboard to knock against the wall. You want bruises and bite marks that you’ll have to cover in the morning before work. You want the thrill of having to look your neighbors in the eyes, knowing they heard every single moan and scream that Billy pulled out of you. 

Most of all, you want that knife pressed against your throat, danger hanging low above your head, but just out of reach. 

Billy chuckles, reading the thoughts hidden in your needy gaze. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give it to you.” 

He slides into you slowly, relishing the tight warmth. Twin exhales of reverence fill the room. You whine as his cock slowly fills your cunt. The stretch of your walls as he bottoms out is intoxicating. The fullness makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

He thrusts slowly, pulling all the way out before slowly filling you again. Taking his time to just feel your greedy cunt swallow him again. Edging himself and teasing you. Billy loves the hungry huff you let out each time he pulls away. Loves to hear it morph into a sated whine when he seats himself deeply inside of you again. 

But you’re impatient and tired of going slow. You want him to fuck your brains out and make you scream, and you want it now. 

“Harder,” you whine. “Faster. Please.” 

That’s what he was waiting for. 

“Love hearing you beg for what you want,” Billy mumbles. “Drives me fucking crazy.” 

He wraps one of your legs around his waist. The other finds a home on his shoulder. He bites your calf sharply as his thrusts pick up speed. The angle allows him to reach that treasured spot deep inside of you, blissfully unattainable without him. In no time, you’re babbling nonsense; your brain turned to mush by the brutal precision of Billy’s hips. 

“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you almost scream. “Keep going.”

“I know, baby,” he says, and there’s pride in his voice. “Feels good, huh? Don’t I make you feel good? Don’t I take care of you?”

“Always,” you sob. 

“Yeah. Always. I always take care of my girl.” He says through gritted teeth, and you know he must be close. He has to be after teasing you and making you come. You saw the way he nearly came all over his hand only minutes earlier. 

You want him to come. You want to watch him unravel so badly you ache with the desire. You want to be the cause of it. 

“Feel so good inside me. So fucking deep,” you whisper. “I love it when you fuck me like this. When you take me and you make me yours.” 

Billy thrusts into you sharply, his perfect rhythm shattered. “Christ,” he groans.

“‘M all yours. I love being yours.” You pair your words with a clench of your walls and Billy nearly falls forward. But the knife never slips. “Love your cock so much, I dream about it. Sometimes I think I can still feel you in me for days after.” 

His eyes hold your gaze, and you shiver at the dark intensity you find there. “You’d better stop, or this’ll be over a hell of a lot sooner.” 

“But I want your cum. Want it deep inside me. Wanna make you feel good.” 

He curses under his breath. The fingers holding your hip dig bruises into the skin. “Fuck, honey. You do make me feel good.”

“Then come inside me, please,” you beg. “I need you.”

Billy’s hand drops down to where your bodies join, and he rubs your clit in quick, merciless circles. “Not without you,” he says, though the effort to abstain looks like it hurts. 

Good. What’s pleasure without a little pain? 

“Get there, baby. I know you’re close,” Billy coaxes. “Let me see.” He spreads your legs a little wider, and spits on your clit, rubbing faster. 

The room fills with the sounds of debauchery. The slap of Billy’s hips meeting yours. The protest of the bed frame squealing beneath the weight of your bodies mixes with Billy’s rough groans. Your own stilted moans and cries bubble from your throat as every harsh thrust pushes you closer and closer to bliss.

Your legs begin to shake, toes curling. “Billy,” you cry, and he doesn’t even correct you. 

“I know, honey. I know,” he mumbles. “That’s my girl. Come for me. Wanna feel you come all over my cock. Give it to me.”  

The effect of his words is almost instantaneous. Your orgasm bursts from within you, shocking you into silence. Your jaw falls slack in a silent scream as the world dissolves around you. Billy fucks you through it. Each roll of his hips sends you deeper into your blissful spiral. 

Watching you fall apart sets Billy off. He tosses the knife away and falls forward, covering your body with his own. He pins you to the bed, elbows digging into the mattress on either side of your head. You wrap your legs around his hips, rocking up into him, aching for more friction. 

“You feel fucking amazing when you come,” he mumbles against your lips. “Sound so pretty.” He grunts, jaw clenching. “Gonna make me come. You want it?” 

“Yes, sir.” You long to run your fingers through his hair and hold him closer against you. “Fill me up. Wanna drip with it.” 

“Fuck,” Billy bites your shoulder. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna make you mine.”

He gives a few more sloppy, deep thrusts before he’s coming with a rough cry of your name. You whine, toes curling as Billy fills you with warmth. Claiming you. His hips roll languidly, pumping his cum deep inside of you. And then with one last deep thrust he collapses on top of you. 

Billy stays on top of you for a moment, catching his breath, and letting you come back down to earth. His body is hot and sweaty against yours. Billy’s hair is a mess, despite your bound hands. The strands tickle your neck and shoulders. You want to run your fingers through the dark locks, tug on them and make him groan.

When his heartbeat has settled, Billy goes to work undoing the knots holding your arms up. You wince as the blood finally begins to flow freely. Billy massages your wrists and shoulders, pressing light kisses to the shallow marks the satin has made. He continues his inspection of your body, fingertips brushing over each bruise and tender spot. Filling out the mental tally sheet for later, when he’ll kiss and rub away the soreness. 

“You did so good for me, baby,” he whispers and rolls onto his back, taking you with him. His fingers continue to rub patterns into your hips and stomach.

You sigh, and bury your face into his neck, fingers finally playing with his hair. You inhale deeply. The smell of sweat and sandalwood calms you instantly.  

“So…how was it?” Billy prods. Is that…worry you hear in his voice?  

You lift your head to meet his eyes. “I loved it.” 

“Yeah?” He lifts an eyebrow. “I wasn’t too much?” 

“No.” You shake your head. “It was perfect. You were perfect. Thank you.” 

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Anything we need to change for next time?” He cups your chin, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“I’d like my arms free. I like touching you.” 

Billy hums and plays with a bit of your hair. “We can talk about it. Didn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself. But you were pretty good at keeping still.” 

Satisfied you rest your head back on his chest. 

“You still owe me three, though.” Billy mumbles and squeezes your ass. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten. We’ll talk about your punishment later too.” 

You swallow thickly. You kind of were hoping he’d forgotten about that. But that’s all part of the game. You misbehave, he puts you in your place. 

That’s the enticing thrill of the danger. 

[chain-draws-stuff]

Hhmnjxjdiprmmmmm I wanna draw Steve, Mesa and Chris in a dress >:]

Evil...yes...Hehehe >:]

[korva-the-raven]

My creatures and people.

I need to share with you the chaos that is my lair...because, I rescued my treasure hoard from storage exile. And it's totally amazing. My treasures and I have been seperated for too long, and new treasures have been collected since then, but now...now I have to merge them into one dragon pile of corvid collecting chaos treasures. Which is fine..

But like, all my shelves are currently busy..where in the fuck am I gonna put stuff???

This whole wall section will be cleared and rearranged with the elder treasures.

Elder tresures like my Tim Burton art print.

The top of my desk is already busy with creations and art projects...

...happy to be reunited with my tinker box though!

My corvid treasures include My Little Pony and corresponding 80's and 90's vintage toys and merch. And toys in general, because my inner child isn't dead. 80's vintage vibes and MLP make my Raven brain go brrrrrrrrr. So fair warning, I'll be making posts about my shiny bits of 80s plastic in the future.

My Raven brain also loves books. Alas, I never have enough book shelves to properly display my corvid library.

My favorite nerd books stacked up and waiting to find their home amongst my busy shelves...

And when I say my shelves are busy, I mean they are like, full chaos mode...

I usually have space dedicated to the faeries, so one of these little shelves will be transformed in sacred space for my fae family...and space for my color museum...

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

I have one shelf dedicated to being a Curio shelf and general purpose hoard pile of shines. All the treasures I've collected while my elder treasure hoard was in stoarge exile.

And the elder treasures, in their boxes, waiting to come out and play.

I'll show you whats inside, but in another post, there is much to show.

Thanks for letting me share my corvid chaos lair! 🖤🍄🐛

[relicsongmel]

you should. tell me your thoughts about ray shields

OH GOD OH FUCK OKAY IF YOU INSIST. I hope you’re ready cause hooooo boy do I have some for you HERE WE GOOOO

Where the hell do I even start. Raymond Shields…my ray of light. My hotshot wonder. My weirdgirl king. I guess before anything else I’ll tell you about how this man absolutely blindsided me—Uncle Ray put your friend Mel through a turnabout of her own and she’s gonna explain how it happened so buckle in. I’ll try to make this as coherent as possible but I need you to understand this man has way too much power over me and a single fleeting thought of him can melt my brain into mush so. Apologies if this comes out as completely nonsensical it’s his fault not mine

I’ve been in the Ace Attorney fandom for a little over a year and had a couple of things accidentally spoiled for me as a result (some of which was my own fault, admittedly) but when I started Investigations 2 last September all I knew about Ray was his name and (sort of) what he looked like. Like a lot of English-speaking fans, I was initially put off by his portrayal in the localization. This immediately stuck out as odd to me because my personality is such that I don’t have a lot of characters I genuinely dislike, especially if they’re part of the main cast—even if they’re not my favorite I can almost always find something to love about them. It made me wonder if maybe some of his quirks got lost in translation somewhere (and I did find out later that this was indeed the case), but I didn’t actively seek out that information at the time for fear of being spoiled, so I just suffered through the early parts of The Imprisoned Turnabout doing my best to ignore what I perceived as questionable behavior on his part.

However, if I’ve learned anything from my time in this fandom it’s that nothing in Ace Attorney is surface level—one of my FAVORITE things to do when playing this series besides voice acting the characters is figuring out what makes them tick and speculating character motivations as the game progresses using the little hints scattered by the writers here and there—I was already somewhat intrigued by Ray’s apparent grudge toward Miles but when the revelation of his partnership with Gregory dropped my brain immediately went BRRRRRRRRR. I started wondering what that experience of working for him was like and how it affected him (and if his unwavering loyalty to Gregory was related to his grudge toward Miles). I started exploring the whole WEB of parallels between him and Gregory and Miles and Phoenix and Mia and Maya and Kay (and probably more but those are the main ones). I fell in love with the beautiful mentor-student relationship he developed with Miles, even if in the moment I was baffled by the weirdly flirty things Ray sometimes says to him (like the line about swapping clothes in the Winter Palace. What the fuck was that about sir) and VERY confused/worried about whether Miles had met him as a child or not (I still don’t know/can’t remember if the game ever gave us a concrete answer on this btw—if any of you know please do enlighten me). And above all I knew—I KNEW that he was hiding a boatload of trauma regarding the DL-6 incident; made even more clear to me by the contrast between his teen and adult selves once I got to The Inherited Turnabout. I knew he was using humor as a mask to hide the pain of what happened. I knew from the fact he still had Greg’s old coat and wore his hat every day that he hadn’t moved on. This, I thought to myself, is a deeply emotional man deathly afraid of emotional vulnerability haunted by the ghost of a loved one. And let me tell you, as someone who’s been in a similar position myself, to say that really struck a chord with me is an understatement.

AND THEN THE THIRST. Oh boy. If I’ve sounded really eloquent up until now that shit’s about to go out the goddamn window because SWEET MOTHER MARY I AM DOWN SO BAD IT’S EMBARRASSING. I recorded my playthrough starting from Chapter 2 (just for fun—I’m not nearly brave enough to post any of it on the internet except maybe some short clips here and there) and you can literally see the clear turning point I had after hearing his Objection voice for the first time. I started making innuendos left and right (IT’S NOT MY FAULT his dialogue lends itself really well to that sort of thing ok). In true Ray Shields fashion it started half as a joke but devolved into absolute chaos. This coupled with the fact that I was slowly but surely becoming more invested in the inner conflict of his character? I was beyond saving at that point. No hope for me. Nothing left but to leap into Uncle Ray’s arms and let them wander where they will. “Ride that stallion into the sunrise,” as it were. I could go on but quite frankly the things I want that man to do to me (and what I want to do to him) are too unholy for this world so I’ll leave it there.

And that’s the story of how Raymond Shields permanently infected my brain. It’s been an absolutely wild ride but I hope you enjoyed the journey—glad we can share our love of this silly disastrous emotionally repressed paper-eating man together <3