#eyeless smiles

[vvhiskeyneat]

"You don't know how to behave, do you?" A rhetorical accusation, one given with a half-cocked smirk as the Verdilak encroached on Corinthian's personal space. "Can't wait until I've gotten you home, it seems?"

Had it been a smart idea to bring the one man he couldn't keep his hands off of for more than five minutes to a private event? Perhaps not. But God, was it fun.

Feliks leaned in, lips barely caressing the nightmare's, tongue brushing against his almost tauntingly. It's just enough for a taste... a small taste. A tease of what's to come. "What am I to do with you?"

@eyeless-smiles

[endlcssdesiire]

random thing for @eyeless-smiles

" I've been wondering something for about... seven decades now. Do different colours have different flavours~? "

[thecreativeforge-a]

❔

Let's see, Let's see...

Write me a starter where Corinthian asks Rashad out on a date, or his idea of a date, anyway.

Write me a starter where Corinthian takes care of or protects a very injured or a gravely ill Rashad.

Write me a starter where Corinthian and Rashad's patron meet.

Write me a starter where Corinthian and Rashad meet again a long time after Corinthian left Rashad's side.

Just to name a few :3

@eyeless-smiles

[hobertgadling]

"I've got you..."

The Nightmare regards the immortal through half lidded teeth. A soft chuckle resonating in his chest as he idly watches Hob wipe away some of the dried blood that stains his golden skin. His head tilted and hair flattened around his visage with the weight of steaming water from the shower overhead. But despite his nonchalant demeanor, it is clear behind the smile that he is uncomfortable with the unusual show of concern.

"Blood doesn't phase me, doll." He promises. Raising a hand to gently place his hand over Hob's to stop him from running the cloth over his chest. He leans in closer to admire those deep brown eyes.

"Does it phase you to be wiping your own blood off of me?"

The water rolling off the two of them that swirled around their feet was cloudy and red. His cloth, which used to be a sea foam green was far closer to a ruddy brown. He stopped when the Corinthian's hand covered his. He raised his eyes to the Nightmare's occular maws and a soft smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"Not anymore, darling," he replied, chuckling softly. He gently peeled the Corinthian's hand away from his and laced their fingers together as Hob continued scrubbing the blood from his perfect skin. Skin that was unlike his own. Unblemished, unmarred. Devoid of wrinkles and signs of age. No freckles. It was in times like these that Hob was reminded of how... unnatural the Corinthian was.

He lifted the rag up to the Nightmare's face and swiped away a splatter of blood his cheek. He hesitated slightly before leaning forward and gently pressing his lips to the Corinthian's left occular mouth, kissing him gently there. In a place he'd never kissed the Nightmare before.

@eyeless-smiles continued from ask

[vilisus]

@eyeless-smiles x

"I'm open to trying a lot of weird shit, but that is not one of them." He shook his head. "Blegh."

Hell, he's had to eat roadkill before, but it wasn't his favorite. The price of blending in, he supposed. Eating a human eyeball wouldn't exactly constitute blending in.

"You really have no impulse control with what comes out of those mouths of yours." One thing they almost had in common.

[stankycowboy]

@eyeless-smiles is making a point. "I didn't say you could bite, did I? We're going to need to start respecting each other's boundaries, baby."

At the precipice of supplanting the nightmare’s want to feel with his own desire to taste, he is halted by a barrier of metal only a degree or two warmer than his actual flesh. It is not so much the pain of the blade puncturing through his cheeks that enrages him—physical injury a common enough occurrence to be ignored— or even the bile that rises into his throat at its degrading little nickname; rather, it is his fury rising at being prevented from carrying out his want as he so sees fit. Denial sits poorly with the hungry brute, having slain for less, and endangered even those he respected for having gotten in his way. Being stalled, even momentarily, from what he seeks is infuriating.

The Savage One has no problem making his feelings about being resisted known. A muffled howl emerges, Severen grabbing its other wrist, not to control it now, but pry himself away; pulling the knife through his jaws, splitting his mouth open wide; slicing through anything of his own that gets in the way. His maw hangs wide open, gaping, disconnected. The red, wet, muscle of his tongue running over the dangling tendons and shredded skin, teeth made even more jagged where the knife cut through. Red gore spills down in runnels to stain his ratty t-shirt ( THEY ROAM AGAIN! Come to DINO LAND! ) . If there was any doubt of the heinous acts Severen might commit--even upon himself--this surely has proven otherwise. He releases the dream being fully, though makes no move to step away. Crowding it further, dripping his own vitality between, or onto the pair of them, grimacing both purposefully, and inadvertently while his jawbone rehinges itself to the rest of his skull. The immortal stares with flame bright blues into the face of the one who has wounded him. There is still anger, but a flicker of respect too. He can appreciate the blade wielder for its deviousness, as well as proving a formidable foe. As if to transmit the thought, his gaze falls to the crimson streaked knife, partially healed mouth quirking into the best imitation of a smirk as it can muster. “Neat trick” he says slowly, doing his best to enunciate his words through the mangled tangle of repairing flesh, “but now I’m really hungry”. Any hint of joy fades, he is truly starved, and if this thing won’t supply him, he’ll need something real. One side finishes stitching together and reveals the fact he is smiling in earnest. Severen leans into the creature’s face, breathing in the sooty smell of him, a projection of what toils behind mental walls he dare only cross when forced to dream in daytime. “You only inner’ested in stickin’ me? Or do you like to play with others too?” An audience along for the ride always makes the prowl more fun. Maybe this one is amenable, if not as a participant, an eager attendant could be enjoyed. His eyes look down at the bare part of its throat, a glimmer of disappointment to not see the familiar pulse of a jugular under smooth skin. It really wasn’t human, was it? The smile falters, newly repaired teeth grinding in idle thought, what could it possibly taste like…would he ever get to know....

[harbingercfdeath-a]

@eyeless-smiles asked “what did you do to them?” ((hello!))

He stands away from the body trying to look like he was completely at ease with the other having caught them reaping a soul "I'm a reaper, I came for his soul and what you just saw was me taking it out of the shell that remains of him." He shrugs at the other tilting his head to the side with a thoughtful look on his face "It's my job and has been since my birth 1000 years ago."

[arkhampsych]

@eyeless-smiles, 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃. ‘ "How long have you been standing there ?" ’

long enough. The scent of blood reighned over the alley’s usual eclectic fragrance ; garbage, sewage, exposed pipes, rust, rotting metal, sweat — their presence was masked by the overpowering sanguinary - stench. Scarecrow thought his own presence was similarly hidden, shrouded in the dark shadow of an alcove as he watched a stranger descend upon prey with an evidently practiced grace. The Victim hadn’t registered the menacing glint of The Stranger’s blade before it freed his life force in a steady flow. This business, was not his own. Scarecrow was accustomed to the almost spectral influence The Narrow’s had on Stranger’s stumbling through the wake of its chaotic umbra. Men transformed, communicating through violence, preying on the weak, taking the essence of their fallen victims and empowering their ego.

When he determined The Victim’s concious had, at last, faded from his eyes, Scarecrow turned to leave The Stranger to his prize — he needed a subject of his own. His departure from the scene was interrupted by a an idiosyncratic curiosity just as chilling as it was intellectually alluring. This stranger proceeded to consume the eyes of his victim. Scarecrow stepped towards the alcove’s penumbra, a distant awe held his gaze to the cannibalistic ritual. What appeared to be an organized killer quickly devolved into the image of a fanatic — or madman.

Perhaps it was the shadows, his curiosity, or his mask, that numbed Scarecrow from the threat of discovery. He made no attempt to approach The Stranger physically, though he engaged with almost genuine interest —

“ what do you gain from eating your victim’s eyes ? ”

[idontkillorphans]

"So this is what you dream about."

“You seem disappointed.” Sleipnir caste the lure into the thick fogged blanket of the lake. Had he caught any? Maybe. Was he going to catch any? Another maybe.

He turned back to the man, the stranger he saw so often. “What are you doing here?” Was this man really occupying this much of his mind

[vvhiskeyneat]

@eyeless-smiles

Carlos Cuevas and Miki Esparbé Smiley 1.03 "Bringing Up Baby"

[hobertgadling]

Chains

The Nightmare isn't concerned when Hob produces a sleek pair of handcuffs and dangles them in front of him like a present. Why should he be?

What does surprise him a little, is that the cuffs aren't for Hob. A soft grunt of surprise leaving a maw when Hob reaches for one of his wrists. With a light chuckle, the Nightmare lets his immortal click the cool steel closed around his wrist. It's cute, really. That Hob thinks a simple set of handcuffs can hold him back.

With a sultry sigh, Corinthian settles back against the propped pillows and admires Robert sitting pretty in his lap. An amused laugh rising from his throat as Hob begins to wrap the cuffs around his other wrist.

"Do you really think these will hold me, dear?" He drawls, sitting up slowly once the cuffs are on securely. A cruel grin spread across his features while he immediately jerks both wrists away from one another to tear the cuffs apart.

Only, his arms snap roughly back into place. A hiss of discomfort shooting from his lips while two widened sets of teeth drop their attention to the metal strapped around his wrists.

Unbroken.

Hob's heart was racing as he straddled the Nightmare and clicked the cuffs in place. He was grateful for the sleek runes he'd engraved on the inside of them; he'd been terrified the Corinthian would see them before he could get them on.

He flinched when the blonde yanked on the cuffs, horrified they weren't going to work. But they did. Toned, golden arms snap back against the bed frame, kept in place. Hob let out a relieved sigh and swallowed the lump of nerves that had built up in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Corinthian," he murmured as he slowly slinked off of the trapped Nightmare's lap. "I couldn't do it anymore. It was all too much."

He reached forward and gently cradled the Corinthian's strong jaw in his hand. "You understand, right?"

@eyeless-smiles continued from here

[blood-of-the-eldritch-rp]

Send "Stop talking" for your muse to shut mine up by kissing them

((For Drakken. Oops))

Drakken was stunned silent as the Nightmare kissed him full on the lips, taken aback by the suddenness of it. Why would this…this thing (for lack of a better term), pull a stunt like this?? As they separated, the Hunter struggled to find words. What was there to say anyway?

“What was that for huh?” Drakken finally said, clearing his throat. “Thought you were only out for violence.”

@eyeless-smiles

[kingcrossbones]

The Corinthian :)

[NSFW] put a name in my inbox and my muse will answer:

How interested they are in having sex with them:

Curious, yes, at this point he doesn't see an actual interest.

How much they would pay (or have to be paid) to have sex with them: 

Zero. Nor ask nor give any payment.

If they would rather bottom or top them:

Top.

How good they think they would be:

Pretty good, considering he's got 3 mouths 😏

If they’d prefer kitchen counter, wall, or shower sex with them:

Brock would fuck him against a mirror. With a collar around the Corinthian's throat. Yeah that would be pretty good, he thinks.

If they’d fuck, have sex, or make love: 

Fuck.

If they were going to make it a threesome, the third person they’d pick:

Captain America. And it would be really messy.

If they think there’s ever a possibility that it would happen:

Yep 😉

[lostxndbroken]

“Ow. I missed you, too.”

((For Caligo uwu))

Caligo bit on the bottom of his lip, looking the Nightmare over. “Oh, and I have missed you as well… The mischief, the murder, the crazy, hot…” He didn’t finish his sentence, he didn’t have to, not with this one. The demon closed the space between them till there was barely anything left. Caligo smoothed over the Corinthian’s coat, then pulling him in, nearly kissing, but not entirely. “How much you missed me?”

[ijustwannahavefunn]

I know you can't tell because everyone is in the way, and the lighting makes it hard to see, but they’re in an elevator 😂🛗

Happy Halloween, by the way! 🎃 Hope you don’t see something like this next time you take the elevator 🤪

[vyrulent]

💬 (for any of your muses uwu)

meme || @eyeless-smiles

“ i don’t wanna talk about it. ”

Lucifer was gone. He'd left without telling anyone goodbye or where he was off to. She'd lost her partner. She'd lost her friend and the last fucking thing that Chloe Decker wanted to do was talk about what she'd lost or how she felt.

"Let's change the subject. How about ... I don't know, what's your deal? Are you an angel? Demon?"