#crows scribbles

[crowcollections]

IT'S A GOOD THING THEY DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE PHONES. I'M SURE THEY'D TAKE GREAT PHOTOS IF THEY DID THOUGH! @hexcii (I AM ROTATING THE FUTURE SLEEPOVER CHAPTER IN MY BRAIN)

BONUS IMAGE I USED AS REF :)

[four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

Could I kindly pitifully beg you to maybe consider, if you would enjoy it, writing some majorbeans based on the nice life finale? where they fight side by side and then violently kill each other? but sexual style? no pressure ive just been searching for that exact scenario for ages and im astonished no-one's written it yet

A small crow ficlet for you anon < 3

~~~~#~~~~

"This is the end for you-"

"Are you sure?"

Joel practically throws himself as Scott before another pearl can sail through the blizzard and Scott poofs out of his grasp in lavender dust again. Diamond blades clatter and crash as they roll down the snow blanketed hill. The tumble over one another in a rolling blizzard speckled with the reds of holiday cheer and murderous intent.

As they spiral out, grunting and groaning and growling, Scott ends up on his back and gasps through gritted teeth as Joel's forehead crashes into his nose. Reeling atop him, Joel's limbs scramble for dominance as Scott struggles and fights him, rivers of red spilling from his nose in burgeoning tributaries until the taste of iron stains his lips.

Eventually, Joel manages to pin Scott, burying him half into the snowy plateau they have tumbled on to, the hood of his jacket a half snow filled pillow.

Both of them are panting. Blood lust thumping in their ears, soaring in their chests in a crescendo that can never end while the other lives - and the sight of Scott's blood languidly streaming down his lips and chin isn't helping that.

Snow dances down atop them, the bitter chill of their setting a faint fuzzy feeling on the border of their nerves when compared to the ravenous heat of one another.

For a moment they just stare at each other, swallowing in bitter chills that could never quench that gnarled molten slag of feelings they have for one another, clouds of warm breath exchanged like greetings between old friends.

Joel seizes Scott by his jacket, fingers knotting in the fabric, leveraging to crash his lips into Scott. Instantly, Scott's fly and seize his hair, as their lips exchange ordnance. Biting and ravenous, sloppy to the point of brutality, they kiss like they are trying to consume each other.

Snarls of pleasure ripple between their lips, pained gasps and moan exchanged like hostile fire, licking and lapping into each other's mouth.

It's only a matter of time till Joel licks at the elixir of his handiwork, lapping up the drying blood with snarling satisfaction. The taste is intoxicatingly rewarding, chest heaving with elation at each drag of his sloppy tongue against Scott's lips creasing in a grimace.

Never one to be out down, Scott knots his fist in Joel's loose hair and all but snaps his neck with how harsh he pull. Joel gasps as the icy hand of winter caresses his exposed next before Scott's teeth are sinking into him. They bear down like they are tying to tear out his jugular - Joel likes that - muscles thrumming bleeding heat into his mouth as a sharp moan tears itself out of Joel's throat.

Trickle of blood cuts warmth down his throat and Scott can feel the echo of that sick sultry gasp between his teeth before it flees his lips. He's absorbed in the sensation, enough so that Joel can throw him back into the snow and their tumble resumes.

Meanwhile the ghosts of the naughty and nice are hovering over the borderline brutally carnal death roll of the final two, taking their sick delight in slowly flaying each other of their most depraved givings.

"I doth not suppose that to be part of the holiday spirit m'lord," Martyn poises, voice still dripping in all the theatrical flare of red winter.

If Cleo had a corporeal arm, they would hit him over the head. "Martyn we're dead. There's no larping in the afterlife."

[elysianblessing-old]

Local disaster being gay

(Okay to tag as kin)

[crowcollections]

OK I AM BEING THE STRONGEST SOLDIER ALIVE AND POSTING MY ART. I'VE HAD ARTBLOCK FOR LIKE 4 YEARS AND THE DCA FANDOM HIT ME ACROSS THE FACE AGAIN AND SUDDENLY I BLACKED OUT AND WOKE UP 3 WEEKS LATER WITH THESE. ANHYWAY SHOVES THESE OUT AND RUNS AWAY

[four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

majorwood i beg of thee

howdy hooty!

there will be more majorwood... there's a more intense version of Enrapture, Enthrall, Entomb that I started writing, I am just absolutely swamped with work atm till Friday. Then two weeks off so hopefully something then...

Have a little sneak peak:

“This is a much better look for you my darling” Scott’s words ooze that saccharine venom he loathes - thinks he’s so much better: Martyn knows he’s so much better, wait… - “that silly slayer nonsenses is wasted on a pretty slut like you.” The sweetly condescending purr of Scott’s voice that usually has Martyn gripping his stakes tight, now is making his head fuzzier and fuzzier… More than the fangs tightening another silken chain around his heart, or the venom fizzling through his body with each beat of his eeriely steadying heart, it’s Scott’s words that feel like a icepick scrambling his brain. With each words, each touch of the vampires repugnant claws across his chest squeezing his breast, Martyn can feel Scott lighting another torch and burning the library of his mind until only ash and he remains. ... Vampires are infuriatingly patient. Another gift of their immortality. So he knows Scott will not permit his humiliation be some hasty ill-timed ball: no, no, no, Martyn will be the centre piece of an entire season of courting. He’s been laying the ground for this for… Martyn shudders. How many bitter night chills were Scott floating by his window sill whispering death on the wind, how many aches had been from nights where he loomed over his bed and taken the little drink from him and healed any evidence, how many nights had the sticky mess he awoke to satiating his skin not been his own mind or body, but Scott? Martyn whines at the depths of the vampires machinations

[four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

Woah, a whole bunch of scribbles/ficlets!!!!

floating on yellow glazed terracotta above nothing - SlimeKnight subspace softness

Link

bird cage - Gribeans forcefem fingering

Link

kenneled - vampris PearlCleo knot cage vaugely puppy play oral fix

Link

Should we hooks up? (How many shots in an ounce?) - Majorbeans drunken horsecock thigh fucking

Link

[crowcollections]

"There are so many places hiring!!" Omg you are so right girlfriend let me go look!!!!!

[elysianblessing-old]

Sometimes you just gotta fuck around and draw one of your OCs because it’s a comfort