#bloodsought

[phantasmtastic]

@bloodsought​​ | starter call

      Everyone thought that Simon didn’t make it. The truth of the matter was he almost didn’t. He had been brought back to the land of the living on a wing and a prayer. The full ramifications of the ax that left a crevice in his skull were still unknown. All he knew was that he was cognizant enough to worry; how was he going to pay for his medical treatments? How would his family support themselves while he healed? His family was already barely scraping by when he worked his fingers to the bones at the grocery store and dealt drugs. How could he move on with the loss of his best friend? Regardless of his circumstance, he tried his best to keep a cheerful appearance. Not wanting to cause anyone anymore worry.

      “You guys don’t have to take turns watching me, you know.” Simon offered Sam a goofy grin of reassurance from his hospital bed. “The drugs they are giving me are the real shit. Like it feels like I’m fucking a fairy mid-air. Plus, my nurse is sexy as fuck. At seven, she is giving me a sponge bath.” As best he could behind the bandages, he wagged his eyebrows.

[moonsought-a-blog]

@bloodsought

Offers you a fancy looking bag which he accidentally got his hands on, strangely enough holding some quite revealing women lingerie, just like it holds these high heels that magically appeared in the bag as well. Not that he bought these with the intent to have you dress up like this or anything. He totally found this bag. Really.

[moonsought-a-blog]

Another stunningly beautiful commission of Hœnir and his albino boyfriend Ratatosk done by the wonderful @nobutatan. I cannot put into words how much I love this !!  Please go and give the artist lots of well-deserved love and attention. They deserve every inch of it!

[moonsought-a-blog]

A commission I got of Rata and Hœ, done by Kii !

A little something for @bloodsought

[moonsought-a-blog]

-gets hit by a newspaper for saying ejaculation in front of his son-

[moonsought-a-blog]

@bloodsought

Standing in the middle of the living room with a bottle in hand (the wine the Albino had gifted him at the start of the evening, quite an expensive one and sweet — to his liking.) he lifted the almost-empty vessel close to his mouth. Eyes focus on the running TV over the other's absence, while the ex-stripper was in the bathroom cleaning himself from the mess he had made inside of him. It was true, Hœnir had been offered spending those hours in some celebrity show anticipating the countdown while putting on an act. However: he had declined. He had not felt like it, truth been told, even if he could have used the money.

End of the bottle lifts as he pours the rest of the red down his throat, halts at the sound of a light switch turned followed by careful footsteps sounding his flatmate’s entrance back into the room through weakened legs, wearing nothing but a shirt and a fresh pair of boxer briefs. What a sight, truly, both adorable and handsome the same, so damningly beautiful. Soft. Unblemished. Perfect. White eyelashes flutter as eyelids lower in thought. No wonder his former job had been so profitable.

" ...happy new year, Ratatosk. "

[moonsought-a-blog]

Of all it could have reached for it had gotten to him; its grasp around him holding so tight no matter how much he tried to shift or struggle to get free it only grabbed him tighter, digging itself further through: painting flesh black the closer it got to his core. Visible to no one — only palpable to him.

The Watcher had considered not making his way home. Sooner than later their senses would tell them about him, like his had told him about the Mother and the dark sitting within her, lingering, feasting at the few parts that were left of the woman walking this world for longer than any of them had. How came she had survived it for this long, he wonders, and for a moment there is hope inside him that he too will manage to sustain and avoid the pain / manage to not end up eaten alive inside his very own body.

Yet Hœnir knows better than to believe that for long. He was too weak — too empty. He did not have a reason keeping him going like it had her, in the search for her lost son which had given her the strenght to fight it even before he had gone. There was no such person to the blue-eyed male. He could not comprehend how having someone so important felt like and doubted his loyalty alone would be enough to have him keep fighting.

@bloodsought

[contradictivs]

Why do you say that ?

“Say what?” The question was enough to tear Ryder out of whatever train of thought that he was stuck in. An eyebrow raised as he glanced back toward where Sam was sitting. He had said a lot of things over the course of that night without truly thinking about it. More spur of the moment than anything else, after all. There was barely time to be able to process what was happening or think about much. “I haven’t said anything yet.”