#vilestblood.

[desalvar]

Booping but like a mutual /Cat Distribution System/ kind of situationship 👀🐾

Odd, somewhat cat shaped abominations found and bonded with each other (!), general populace breathes sigh of relief

I love them so much, fate-assigned distribution has nothing to do with the unwell shit they did to get each other 💜

[vullcanica]

"To me, all shall kneel, but you. To you - all but me." — 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

@vilestblood

[pre1ude]

'I never hated you.'

❛ don’t lie to me. ❜ // @vilestblood

And just like that, the wound opens.

By god, he'd imagined it all so differently for almost three years now. Gone over the scenarios diligently before he'd bare-knuckled the decision to come here. All the viable outcomes, joyful and humiliating and selfishly cruel alike ― what do you tell someone who's both kissed and betrayed you? ― Written down what to say and sat with the words for days, and still it had taken little more than his favourite chair on the eastside balcony, the feeling of warm velvet on his skin again and the sight of him alone for all sense to flee Daniel. He'd outgrown the little joys of this place, he tells himself. Replaced morsels of rare contentment with true peace, clawed and scratched his way up to something resembling happiness. The big empty manor on the edge of town is no longer a respite, nor Antonin - a beacon of comfort - and yet here he is, more willing to jump the parapet than bear to sit where they once laughed together and speak to him like a stranger. Like something worse.

In the end, he has no means to prove they're anything else... not when they'd parted so bitter. His aching heart would make for poor evidence.

So he sits there, straight-backed and prim, and all but takes the words like an arrow. Eyes and fists closed, mouth thin, feeling it fly true. Maybe it would've angered him instead, back then, when Antonin was overfond of his perilous tones and imploring eyes. Part of him misses that time still. Wishes it'd been said like an order than this resigned, tired plea that lodges under his third rib and sits there like a stinger. Something quietly weeps there now.

"...I couldn't hate you, Antonin," his voice is quiet and calm when it fights its way up at last. He can't bear looking at him, knowing he would look back. "Even when it seemed like the most reasonable thing to do."

He trains his eyes on the horizon evenly. Rests his hands in his lap and lets the admission hang in the scarse stitch of space between them. In the chasm that has opened there since. Here is the implication too: he had tried his hand at hatred. Played at it. Had yearned for the closure of that finality, the end of what they'd shared, only for it to never come. What else do you do with a dark, unsalvageable chasm than try to cut the last bridge? What do you do when it no longer looks like a chasm in the daylight?

"It would've made everything easier, I think... Hatred is such a horribly simple, uncomplicated emotion... Love is not. When it comes to you, I've only ever managed one."

[sxnguinesxnctum]

[ i'll be so real if priests was high as fuck and rambling about some fucked up multi-eyed god on top of the cathedral i'd go to more sermons let alone weddings

also i think that everyone in yharnam is almost as high as the vicar so at this point they're just used to it nfdasbgdsf ]

[dullweapons]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

from : @sapientiiae , @vilestblood , @dutifulsilence !

🍆 how do they feel about toys? do they have any? what’s their favorite? do they use them with partners?

yes toys !!! usually he uses toys when he's just masturbating cause hands sometimes don't cut it &. he needs a little help . he's got a few different things such as dildos in different sizes , some that are only fit for a size queen such as himself . Those are probably just for him but i also picture him having a pegging set for his afab s/o to peg him if he trusts them enough to ! ( ray is a little picky who gets to peg him but its for safety reasons. he overstimulates & can be dangerous )

probably nipple clamps , his tits are sensitive pls do touch them that is why he has his nips periced . perhaps paddles for impact play ? rope & handcuffs as some of his lovers have been into BDSM & he's pretty good as a dom .

he's also fine with trying new toys if his partner wants to ? like he'll try candle wax even if he's never done it before .

🤪 what’s the wildest place they’ve ever done something sexual?

idk he'd fuck anywhere ?? probably banged a zelda on the throne of hyrule castle . ( probably blue's zelda @/hyliangrace tbh . they have a healthy sex life those too but in blue's words : would fuck on the triforce if they could )

shadow temple ? yep that place is v sexy to him he's 100% fuck there & use the torture devices as sex toys .

top of death mountain ? probably with a goron .

literally anywhere you can think of he's fucked in there . you can't be immortal & NOT fuck in the wildest places you & think of

👀 how do they feel about voyeurism ? exhibitionism ?

voyeurism : yeah sure , he's into it . honesty he is into just watching people in a non sexual sense ⸻ humans are interesting to him . they act different to him . but back to sexual ; yeah he'll watch his partner fuck someone else if they're into cucking . he'll watch you undress behind a partition screen & jerk off & he'll watch you masterbait . but he's more into being watched himself ? not even out in public just in general . like just looking at him intensely as he jerks off & he'll explode .

exhibitionism : yes . yes yes yes yes yes ⸻ ray is hyperily into this . he won't do anything in a public space just out in the open but fucking in a broom closet or in the room next door to a bunch of people ? or better yet , fucking someone out a window & they have pretend nothing is happening . or getting his dick sucked under the desk while he's talking to someone . all of that is soooo hot to him .

🕒 what’s the longest time they went without engaging in sexual activity with a partner? [masturbation doesn’t count]

i think the period between sahar & a bit before gwal in the timeline . so SS - Pre OOT ? probably during the force era ( minish cap & four swords ) is when he finally hit up a prostitute . before that he was practically a virgin & claimed he would never love another since sahar died & was okay never having sex again . so he went without sexual activity for a few hundred years .

& when he did lay with a prostitute ( probably peer pressured by other knights tbf ) he just was like ❌👁️ ‼️ & didn't know what he was doing & probably left without doing much of anything out of embarrassment . he eventually gets over this & beds prostitutes or flirts with woman in bars regularly ⸻ nothing serious until he meets gwal during the civil war & realizes men were an option this whole time .

🫂 how do they feel about friends with benefits?

long as they both consent he's down ! he is probably going to catch feelings but that is a him problem ! has happened before & will happen again . even if he does catch feelings if he can tell that his friend w/ benefits does NOT want it he is going to keep it to himself .

he wouldn't want their relationship to turn into just fucking . he would still want to be friends & wouldn't want to lose that . cause if you just ride his dick & leave him immedelity he's going to be upset . ray does NOT want to be used just for sex .

[miratenebrarum]

"with some luck neither of you will survive the winter"

[yellowfingcr]

@tacetnix replied to your post “"Alright. Alright. I'm wondering. Would you guys...”:

[ yeah.] No hesitation.

​"Cool!"

@vilestblood replied to your post “"Alright. Alright. I'm wondering. Would you guys...”:

Absolutely

"Yay!"

@fishermcn replied to your post “"Alright. Alright. I'm wondering. Would you guys...”:

"Nah. Got better taste."

"That's a very sad thing to say, Sam."

[fishermcn]

🤝🏻 👀 er or bb verse

@vilestblood // a chance bargain struck that ill-omened night; yet back to back they fight till the dying light // accepting.

i.) it started with raised eyebrows at an honest-to-rot black knife perusing his wares before shrugging and selling his usual stock of lethal implements, aromatics, and other tools of the trade. it developed when one evening it wasn't crow but the bloodthirsty thing living inside him that showed up half-dead from some fight or another and hungry for sustenance. sam came away from the encounter with a fresh batch of scars and a new deal (offered at a much safer distance): let sam study and test samples of crow's blood, and he'll work on developing a suppressant to try and reign in any uncontrollable impulses.

ii.) while their agreement hinges on sam's immediate disposal of crow's blood once testing has concluded, those relatively short windows of study alone have filled many pages of sam's tattered journal. this deepened understanding of the formless mother's influence and its relation to the victim's blood has lead to drastically more deadly recipes that rely on such things... as well as a few theories on how to subvert her influence.

iii.) sam has recently hired crow to hunt down those cleanrot knights that still wander caelid, melting down their armaments in an effort to purify the traces of unalloyed gold forged within them for use in their shared interests. while not one to shy from conflict, sam knows when he's outmatched, and those still-sworn to malenia are dangerous enough to warrant crow's services.

[kxllerblond]

don't make promises you can't keep, darling.

The businessman doesn't answer at first, index and middle finger tapping away at some nonsensical rhythm there on the table. Clark didn't always let slip his obvious 'I'm thinking and choosing my words carefully' tells, but when he did they were bountiful and plenty.

❝ Well, I don't, dear. Promises mean quite a good deal to me, you see. I don't make any I don't intend to keep. ❞ he, admittedly, often bit off more than he could chew in that moment-—but he always chewed it in the end, somehow and someway.

❝ If you're implying that's what you think of my ethic. Well, then I'd be incredibly wounded and just a little pissed off, admittedly. ❞

[chateautangerine]

@vilestblood asked: [ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 ] ― sender makes receiver a cocktail to try 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒 (accepting)

Come to the bar. 

Have a drink with me. 

Cliff lifts his head from the telegram. The room is alive. 

Down the waxed herringbone floors, his footsteps muffled by the sound of clinking champagne glasses. The numerous, innumerable conversations between people he may or may have never known, all of them draped in dinner jackets and trailing, glinting dresses, clusters of them in groups that stretch out and rise against the railing of the infinite floors above.  

He doesn’t think about it. This is normal. He thinks about the telegram—Come to the bar. Have a drink with me—and a face surfaces muddy-cotton-y in his sleeping brain. 

He’s here. 

Who wants to see him? It smells of tangerines. He recognizes the song as “Nocturnes”, and pays no mind to the warbling guests here. No mind to their faces smeared like the remains of a cheap eraser, grayed rubbed smudged. Down the penrose steps, his shoe touching down. The room suddenly empty save for one. 

It smells of tangerines. He recognizes the song as “Nocturnes”, slightly off-key. They’re obscured by a column, part of their face reflected on a mirror upfront: short red hair. A tattoo on the arm. He blinks. Charred black hair and pointed teeth. He blinks. A scar at the throat.

He stops at the bar. The song warbles. Cliff unpeels his hand from the column, and he ebbs over.

“I made you wait, didn't I...” he starts, bedside whispered. His chair makes no noise as he settles in, and, dreamily, he says, "Lord, look at you."

There's a glass by his hand. His friend had ordered it for him. An orange slice perches on the brim, the drink inside of it potent cough-syrup red. He thinks vaguely of cranberries and cherries.

A wrist lying limp, poking out of a corner.

"Why didn't you call, I wonder?" he asks, not expecting an answer, his face muted. Cliff wraps his fingers around the glass. Then, faraway, "I wrote you a letter."

He knows this man. He turns around. He knows him like the back of his hand. Like they've grown up together. Cliff hasn't seen him in an indefinite span of time, and he knows him by his starry gray eyes and his dead skin the way Cliff knows a well-loved book, the spine tatty and creased from too many perusals, each page absolutely empty. He knows him like he knows faces but none of the names. Like how you have never seen yourself, only through mirrors. A picture.

The man looms over him, gangly and gnarling and tall; strange and unbelonging, like something in the corner of your eye. Nothing is there. The song plays backwards.

"You're bleeding, you know," Cliff says, high and ribbony. He reaches out to hug him.

The man may or may not have smiled, his mouth and chin stained red.

The wrist lies limp in the reflection of the mirror.

[desalvar]

🍆how do they feel about toys? do they have any? what’s their favorite? do they use them with partners?

❤️‍🔥what’s their most erogenous zone?

🫶what does after care look like for them?

SINDAY HEADCANONS // accepting

🍆 - how do they feel about toys? do they have any? what’s their favorite? do they use them with partners?

he enjoys toys well enough. uses them pretty liberally when available, though, to him, they're not a replacement for the pleasure of physical bodies and have to be prepared and all, which kind of dampens the kick of spontaneity and passion (doesn't use them on his own for example, can't be bothered with the hassle). he's a bit too candidly eager, unembellished, 'want you here and now' about sex for that sort of premeditation most days.

he'd own some with a committed partner though - pretty much the only time he'd go dedicatedly browse a sex shop. and probably go overboard with the selection, but well, horniness does his impulse control in 🤷 it's also a pretty good motivator for inventiveness in the bedroom, so he's scarily good at being creative with whatever tool he's given. his beady little eyes light up, lmao

as for specifics: vibrators are pretty versatile to him, as are dildos. he has a love-hate relationship with chastity/restraint devices and, on the other end of the spectrum, a bit of a built-in hard on for tools for impact or pain play (paddles, whips, etc). i also think he'd like a shock collar a bit too much... in short though, he wouldn't knock anything until he tries it, pretty standard for him.

❤️‍🔥 - what’s their most erogenous zone?

unsurprisingly - beyond the obvious (genitalia) and going with the theme of him being more 'eater' than 'man' - nik's ultimate erogenous zone is mouth and tongue. oral fixation off the charts and absolutely shameless about it. both surrendering something to his mouth and tongue (AND teeth, mind those please) or taking pleasure from them as one sees fit tie into various kinks he has, but also, generally, passion, pleasure and love is stored in the Eater Maw, believe it or not.

🫶 - what does after care look like for them?

it depends, was it vanilla or more heavy duty, a dear lover or a stranger, slow or quick? he can be tender and clingy or casually cold about it, depending.

giving - heavy on grounding touch. enjoys continuing intimacy into the afterglow through holding, kissing, caresses, little talks, soothing the body - kneading sore muscles, employing a towel or washcloth if needed. mostly physical comfort, though he'll fetch water or snacks eagerly too. famously will make breakfast the morning after, if smitten enough.

receiving - just likes feeling valued after, really, and he's not particularly picky about how that happens. enjoys being held or holding most of all. let him cling, he gets needy whenever out of sorts or overwhelmed.

[vullcanica]

“You’re like a big, dirty raccoon.” (Affectionate — for Nik 💖)

 "Half your fault."

 And he has the audacity of one too, stretched in full over their little garden swing, hands dirty up to the forearm and head pillowed sweetly onto an inviting lap. Grinning. There's a growing stain on one pristine linen sleeve where he's lovingly stroking his husband's wrist. Since Antonìn doesn't move, he takes it as acquiescence.

 "If you didn't want some awful cretin bare-fisting your begonia dirt, you shouldn't have invited him in the garden at all." A playful dig. But he doesn't mean it. Not really. Not with the smooth purr of his voice at its most content. Left with a pleasant ache from hours of gardenwork, he's laid out his achy bones and sweat-soaked meat and secured a worm's-eye vantage to Antonín's fondly exasperated smile. Resting, simple as that. It's warm out. They have homemade lemonade on the little glass-top table nearby. There's a sunbeam caught in one loose silvered strand of hair up above, perfectly sundialling something like ten in the morning. It might be heaven.

 His weight heaves gently, ankle anchored over the swing's armrest, and a hip pops out long-overdue tension. God, but he's getting old. "He might need some upgrades soon, if he's to catch up with you." Perhaps it's time to get it over with and get his bones nailed down secure...

 With the huff of a satisfied bear stealing his coherence, he turns to bury his nose in Antonín's warm belly and rests his eyes. The arm he's stolen tucks securely under his chin. Ah, he'll wash the stain out himself later.

[pre1ude]

" Are you lost, Daniel? " ((I had to)) // @vilestblood

The feel of warm rich velvet is familiar at his nape. Daniel clamps a swift hand over the point of contact as he turns to face that voice's source. Eyeline instinctively angled up. Knowing him before he's seen him.

"Mr. Cainhurst!" To his credit, he isn't forced to feign surprise at Antonin's approach. Unnaturally, there's been naught but a single crunch of grass beneath his boot to signify the man's sudden presence.

"Oh, I- didn't see you..." He takes a single, surreptitious glance behind Antonin, at sprawling unbroken fields. The forest treeline is some ways from them. So is the nearby manor house where he remembers having his audition. He should've seen him... "...approaching." And he should've heard him too, but that detail he spares, more deeply unsettled than he dares admit.

The recovery is swift, polite smile practiced to perfection. The touch of stiffness to it is his own unwitting improvisation. There's nothing in Antonin's features to denote displeasure, at least. But when is there ever. Danny's shoulders sag a touch, frame deflating. The smile smooths.

"No, no, I'm hardly lost. We woke up early and so it's been a rather long walk. Through town and then..." He gestures sidealong to where they are, just outside of the last urban neighbourhoods, concrete turning cobblestone. Not a soul for miles, besides the three of them. "I thought Bentley over there would like the fields." And there he is, off in the distance, a yellow ball of fur trotting his way back towards them leisurely. Even from afar the excited jiggle to his backside is evident.

Daniel turns back to face his unexpected companion then. Fussing over one coat button, suddenly more worried over how frumpy he might look this early in the morning than anything else. Oh and there's one more thing.

His hands wring around the folded dog leash.

"I'm so sorry, are we tresspassing on your grounds?"

[sxnguinesxnctum]

@vilestblood

" before you say anything, it wasn't me. "

At this point... should he even say anything? Or even do anything, at all, other than just... stand there, the book he was looking for in the library still in one hand, the other holding a little too tight onto the door's handle, staring at the Crow and the corpse of some Mensis student on the floor right next to him?

"I assume this poor soul fell on your blade by accident, then."

This is so scandalous. Answering to this display of needless violence with anything but sarcasm.

If it was one of his people he would probably be much angrier.

[lancelot-sharpkeen]

"this is a no gnomes zone we hate gnomes we hope gnomes blow UP"

[miratenebrarum]

@vilestblood

No 👁

throws the frog in his hand at his face