#Zephyr x Teeth

[palettepainter]

Didn’t you mention how Zee had a fling with Teeth when they were younger? What was that like? Are they still friends after they broke up? What were Tina and Gerald’s reactions (if they knew)?

I must know

-The first time Teeth officially met Zephyr was when he was with his parents and accidentally threw a box of floss at the back of her head. Zee was a lot less frustrated about the encounter then Teeth thought and he eventually told her and apologised. They laugh about it now from time to time

-Before they dated Teeth thought Zephyr and Floyd where dating. Zephyr is a big music fan and so when she stayed down in New Orleans over the summer she and Floyd became fast friends, often hanging out at Jerry's Tunes. The two never dated and where just very good friends, but Teeth felt like he was third wheeling them. After Zee and Teeth accidentally get locked in the back of Jerry's tunes she reveals the truth about how her and Floyd aren't dating. It was also during this conversation Zee learnt that Teeth wasn't all that enthusiastic about being a doctor, but was very passionate about music. They spent about an hour locked in storage before Floyd came to their rescue and the two left as closer friends 

-Zephyr was probably the one to ask him out, younger Teeth was so shy and rolled a zero on charisma when it came to being smooth. As a teen Teeth was very obvious with his feelings but every time he tried to ask Zephyr out he'd loose his nerve. Their first date was something simple, Zephyr didn't wanna overwhelm Teeth who she knew at that point got nervous easily. They went to the park and got beignets together, and Zephyr taught him how to dance when they overheard some live music playing outside a cafe 

-They dated over the summer when Zephyr was down and had a very cliché summer romance. They where both young at the time of dating (young adults, not quite in their twenties) so there was a lot of blushing and shy hand holding, the two often hugged but kissing took a little longer. Teeth was the one to bring up kissing, sort of without realising, he'd spaced out watching Zee as she spoke to him about something with this big passionate smile on her face, and the question sort of just slipped out - catching BOTH of them by surprise. Zee giggled, trying to be cool, but said it was fine. They kissed for all of three seconds, then pulled away blushing, smiling messes 

-Zephyr really wanted to meet Teeth's parents, mostly cuz she felt an obligation to - she was dating their son after all, so she felt like it was only natural she'd meet them at some point. Floyd had warned her before hand how Tina could be but Zephyr didn't take his comment too seriously, figuring Floyd was just exaggerating and had everything all wrong. Tina was no less blunt with Zephyr then she was with Floyd: she was too the point, almost teetering on the edge of being rude, and Zephyr felt oddly intimidated by her. She fell into a habit of referring to her as Ma'am and Mrs. Teeth, she once accidentally slipped and called her by her first name and Tina was very quick to correct her. Tina at best tolerated Zephyr when she was dating Teeth, but whenever Zephyr was around for dinner her and Teeth had to act more like close friends then a couple. Neither of them could have a moment alone without Tina breathing down their necks or squinting at Zephyr suspiciously from across the room (Gerald thankfully was a-okay and saved the two more then once from awkwardness with his wife)

-Zephyr bit her tongue and bared the passive aggressive comments from Tina with a smile and a light laugh, she came close to loosing her cool multiple times but managed to remain polite. Teeth and Zephyr spent most of their time dating/being doofy lovers navigating romance away from Teeth's house. The relationship never went beyond dates, kissing and hugs. The two dated when Zephyr was down in town for the summer and when she was away they'd call each other as often as they could (for Teeth especially this was sometimes hard). After a while their relationship started to feel more like very close friends then lovers, and it was around this time that Teeth was starting to grow a little crush on Floyd. The next time Zephyr was in town they talked it out and decided to remain close friends

-Have a bonus fact with Zephyr and Tina: after the two became friends and dropped dating from the equation Zephyr still tried to keep things peaceful with Tina, at least when Teeth was around. She really didn't want to cause a feud that could potentially tear her and Teeth's friendship apart. But as Zephyr got older it became increasingly harder to force a polite smile in Tina's presence, especially when she learnt Tina was still referring to Floyd as "busker boy". She ranted to Teeth a lot when they met up, but Teeth kept telling her he was fine and to please not do anything stupid. So, for Teeth's sake, she sucks it up and bares it....Until she goes back to the town and discovers both Teeth and Floyd had left town. No note, no message, no phone call. Nothing, just up and gone. Zephyr, confused and having no where else to go, seeks out Tina and Gerald. Tina is less then happy to see her - Zephyr barely gets one sentence in the conversation before Tina is grumbling about how she knew her and Floyd where trouble from the start. That's the final straw to break the camels back and the two get into a very heated argument. Zephyr leaves with a huff and a kick to Tina's door. Even after the events of Muppets Mayhem they don't really get along. Tina has...tried, a bit poorly, to mend things. But it's pretty clear to Zephyr Tina has no idea what she's doing, so to avoid awkwardness Zephyr kind of just ignores her, treating her as a familiar stranger

[sakkiichi]

BETTER THAN REVENGE.

you and your ex ended on bad terms. you want revenge. your annoying best friend might be the answer.

ft. Childe x gn! reader.

cw/genre: romance, fake dating, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, modern/college au, very brief mention of alcohol consumption.

word count: 2.6k.

i dreamt about this idea months ago, and i thought my first genshin crush’s birthday would be a good day to write it hehe. happy birthday ajax <3

What did you ever see in that asshole, you will never know.

You hate him. Of that, you are certain.

You really tried to put effort into your relationship, made time for him, prioritized him.

It seemed to always go unreturned.

And that much is made clear tonight, the sight of him making out with someone else at this party you don’t even know why you decided to attend, being the last straw.

“We’re done, you jerk.” Are the words you spat at him, throwing the remnants of your drink at your now ex-boyfriend.

You regret it now. Having wasted half a drink, that is.

The music blasting through the speakers is soon replaced by crickets chirping and the night wind ruffling through the trees. You spare a glance at the moon above. Full, its rays seemingly lighting up a liquid silver trail leading to you.

“Leaving so soon?” A familiar, and, might you add, annoying at times, voice questions.

Well, at least it’s better than hearing your ex, you muse to yourself, as you turn around to face your friend.

His ocean blue eyes glimmer in the summer starlight rain, matching the color of his baby blue t-shirt.

A smile makes it to your face. You always loved to steal that one when you had sleepovers.

“Nothing gold can stay, am I right, Ajax?” You retort, a mirthless grin plastered on your moonlit features.

Your friend takes a few steps forward, coming to stand next to you, shoulder playfully bumping against yours.

“I’d rather you stayed, though.” He says, a melancholy smile tugging at his lips.

You close your eyes, a sigh escaping you into the night.

“Let’s just say… I’ve had enough for tonight.” You mutter, exhaustion beginning to catch up to you.

“Anything happen?” Childe asks, ginger strands swaying around his face in the warm zephyr.

You bark a dry laugh, yet all you feel running through your veins is boiling anger.

“Well, I saw that asshole kissing someone else.” You cross your arms over your chest. “So I made it clear we’re done. I also wasted half my drink on that shithead when I spilled it on his face.” You tilt your head to the side. “Pity, that cocktail was much more worth it than him.” You add, matter of factly.

Ajax chuckles. He always liked your unapologetic remarks.

“You really did that?” He laughs. It’s nice, sincere. Then: “He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Eh, probably not.” You shrug. “I just really want to piss him off now.”

“Oh?” Your friend’s usually dull marine eyes light up in amusement. “Any ideas?”

“Huh, not yet…” You ponder, worrying your thumbnail between your teeth.

Childe levels his gaze with yours, that impish grin meaning he was up to no good not unlike the edge of the moon above.

“Date me.” He smirks, just like that.

And at that moment, you’re too aware of the heat rising to your cheeks, of the wild pounding of your heart against your ribcage, of the constellations of freckles dotting the bridge of Ajax’s nose. “You know, just as show, to spite him.”

And perhaps it’s the sweet intoxication of your half drunk cocktail, or the way a lake of stardust seems reflected in his eyes, but you find your pinky linked with his before you have half the mind to back off.

“Deal.”

—

On hindsight, perhaps you were impulsive.

Was it really a good idea to involve your best friend in this game of spite?

Readjusting your bag on your shoulder, you walk to your first period class.

Students, some more sleepy than others mill around campus, a collage of headphones on, hands busy on screens and chit chat filling the early morning air.

“Morning, babe.” Are the first words directed at you today, followed by a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Ajax…” You whisper-shout, frowning, face warming up. “You know you just need to pretend.”

“I’m very aware of that.” He whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear, as his voice lowers a little more. “He’s looking, sweetheart.”

Despite your quickened heartbeat, a devilish grin makes it to your features, arms wrapping around your best friend temporarily turned “boyfriend”.

“Ajax!” You coo, sweetly. “I had missed you so much! Ah! How am I going to endure six hours of class without seeing you?”

The redhead embraces you, arms tightening around your waist, dangerously close to your hipbones. His face buries in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you, lovingly.

“Good, he just stormed off.” He murmurs, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze.

You smile brightly, luminous eyes meeting his crinkled up ones.

His hand slides into yours, pressing it reassuringly, before you two part, promising to meet afterwards.

Oddly enough, when you sit at the back of the seminar, six hours feel like an eternity.

But, like all things, your classes come to an end, eventually.

Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you leave the building.

It’s weird, this sensation, though.

You’ve been close with Childe for years, you’ve hugged countless times, slept at each other’s place just as many.

So, why now? Why did you feel all jittery and giddy at his subtle touches just earlier?

Perhaps you’re still shaken from your breakup, as much as you can’t stand your ex.

“Hey there, pretty.”

You look up from your phone to be met with the colors of oceans and sunrises, Ajax’s grinning face centimeters away from yours.

“Childe.” You bluntly greet him. It’s unfair how the early evening sun kisses his skin just right, the light dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks reminding you of the stars that soon will start decorating the sky. You clear your throat, then:

“You know we just need to look like we’re dating, right? I thought I’d made myself clear.” You don’t know if your statement is more directed at him or at yourself.

“I know,” the ginger smiles, falling in step by your side. “But we need to make it look convincing, don’t we?” He winks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re insufferable, as always.” You grumble.

And yet, despite no one really being around at the moment, you make no effort to push the man away. And you definitely don’t complain when he switches to your other side, hand lingering on the small of your back, so that you take the innermost half of the sidewalk, away from the cars.

If someone were to ask, however, no, you certainly are not leaning into Ajax’s comforting hold.

—

A few more weeks go by, with most of your free time spent with your “fake boyfriend.”

And as much as you’ve always cherished him, despite his, at times, obnoxious nature, you certainly are confused right now.

What is it you feel for him? You like these newfound moments of shared tenderness between the two, so much that you wish they weren’t fabricated sometimes… What would it be like to love someone truly? To have someone love you?

What do his lips taste like? You wonder, as you have a few more sips of your iced peach juice.

You shake your head. No, you definitely did not think that. Must be the heat, messing with your head, surely.

However, willing fantasy or not, it turns out fate had indeed planned for you to indulge in your cravings.

The door of the establishment opens, the small bell above it signaling the entrance of another customer.

“[Y/n?]” Ajax calls, from the sit across you.

You tilt your head to the side, your redhead friend’s eyes focused on something behind you.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?” You almost shout, the sound dying down to a whisper the moment his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

“Do you trust me?” He smirks.

“Yes, but-“

“You said yes.” Are Childe’s words before leaning in.

To say he was a good kisser would be an understatement.

His lips on yours feel like a roaring ocean, notes of spearmint and sunshine contained in the secret message in a bottle the waves of him carry. Ajax’s calloused hands cup your jaw, ruddy locks of hair tickling you when he angles his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You wish this was real.

But would it really be a crime to play your part right now?

Your fingers tangle in his tangerine hued strands, slightly tugging at them as you bring him closer to you.

You don’t care if this is swimming against the current, if you did drown right now, you would go happy.

But because he’d be damned before he let you drown, your best friend pulls away, allowing air back into your lungs.

That’s the very best goddamn kiss you’ve ever been given.

But, alas, sometimes you think “stupid” should be Ajax’s middle name.

When you glance his way, he keeps looking at something beyond you, that shit eating smirk plastered on the lips you want to kiss again.

When you spare a peek over your shoulder, you spot him. Your ex, sitting with some girl, his face ashen as he looks in your direction.

So that’s all this was.

You should have figured, you chide yourself as you fiddle with the straw of your juice.

If you had payed attention, however, you would have noticed a pair of starry blue eyes not leaving you.

—

And after that arrives the day you realize you are screwed.

This was all just supposed to be a make believe charade, not you actually falling for your friend.

Because you can’t deny it anymore; whatever it is Ajax is to you now, it goes way past platonic.

You can’t let these feelings be known. Ever.

But how are you supposed to ignore all of his sweet gestures? His tender touches when holding your hand; the way he remembers your favorite ice cream, smoothie and coffee orders; how he brings you lunch when he ends up cooking too much for his siblings; or the way not only are you stealing his t-shirts on nights you fall asleep at each other’s rooms, but how he now drapes his hoodie over your shoulders, the night breeze uncharacteristically chilly for this time of year.

And that kiss. That goddamn kiss.

And perhaps your last breakup scarred you more than you let on; or maybe you love Ajax too much to keep up this lie with him. But before you can think twice, the words are out of your lips, glacial shards of a broken dream on a midsummer’s night:

“Ajax? Let’s stop doing this.”

Those eyes of his that sparkled in sapphire hues dim again at your statement.

He searches for your gaze, but you won’t look at him.

“Why? Something wrong?” Childe tries for his usual carefree tone, but you know better; the hurt and strained fear in the words he doesn’t speak are clear as day to you.

“Yes! I mean no! I mean…” You sigh. “I don’t think it makes sense anymore.”

In reality, what doesn’t make sense is pretending this relationship of yours is just for show. But you can’t let him know that.

“Got cold feet?” Your friend, or whatever he is now, asks, oceanic gaze glazed over, not a single star reflected in it when he stares skyward.

‘If only you could know’. Is the sentence you don’t let out through bitten lips.

Instead you offer:

“I don’t think this makes sense anymore.” Unconsciously, you adjust his hoodie a little tighter around your figure. “I just- I think I’ve gotten the revenge I wanted. I… I don’t know, I just want to hang out with you again, but honestly, not like this, not for an audience…”

You stop walking, standing a few paces before him.

“We don’t have to do any of this for the public, you know.” Your friend, crush, partner in crime? assures, shortening the distance between you with his long strides.

“But we do.” You sadly whisper, averting your eyes to the side. You can feel wetness pooling on them. Great, just what you needed. “I… I don’t want more fabricated romantic moments, I’ve had enough of love that was never anything to begin with before.” You humorlessly add. “I just, I want the next time I kiss someone or hold their hand… I want it to be real, for it to mean something… and I can’t keep stealing moments like these from you either, Childe.”

Salty droplets start to dye the grey pavement as you keep your eyes glued to it. Everything feels so complicated, so messy…

“I know this was your idea but… I can’t keep-“

“What makes you think it wasn’t real?” Familiar calloused fingers caress your cheeks, gathering the starless wetness sliding down them. “What makes you think you were stealing these moments from me?” Strong arms envelop you, akin to the early morning rays dancing over gentle waves lapping at the seashore. “It was my idea, right? You said it yourself. Why do you think that was?”

“I don’t know!” You sob into his chest. “I guess you were looking for fun, or you wanted to help me…” You wonder, voice a breath away from becoming fragments of a shattered snowglobe.

Ajax chuckles, soft. His hold on you tightens a little. Then:

“You know, sometimes you can be so dumb, [Y/n].” He utters, tone devoid of his usual teasing. “It was my plan, on that you are right.” His hands rest on your shoulders, as he pulls away to look at you. “But I guess now would be a good time to tell you why.” He shifts his weight on his feet, an unusual dusting of pink creeping up his neck caught by the streetlights. “Truth is, I was scared to, well, ask you out normally, I was scared of you saying no. When you started dating him, I hated him, but I hated myself more, for not having been able to prevent it. You looked unhappy.” He shoves his hands in his pants’ pockets. “So I don’t know, I figured maybe if we pretended, we’d keep it up for a while, or maybe if I was lucky, you’d really fall for me… kinda dense, right?”

You sniff, a smile tugging at your lips despite your cries.

“Yeah, definitely stupid.” You laugh softly, through the tears. “But effective.” You admit, glossy eyes searching for the molten northern stars in his stare.

“Wait, so you actually fell-?”

“Ajax. Kiss me. For real this time.” You plead, clutching the front of his baby blue t-shirt, urging him closer to you.

“What makes you think it wasn’t for real the first time?” He smirks, as his lips link with yours for the second time.

Your arms loop around his neck, his hands digging on the flesh of your lower waist, his palms a searing wave under your shirt. Childe’s kiss tastes of fireworks reflected over a still ocean, the quiet of the minutes before midnight in stark contradiction to the wild drumming of your infatuated heart. You stand on your tiptoes, desperately meeting his tidal wave at its zenith, the caress of the blossoming moon above and Ajax’s tongue swiping over your swollen lips sending shivers down your spine.

The clock strikes twelve, and a beeping sound interrupts the reverie.

Grumbling, you fish your phone out of your borrowed jacket’s pocket.

“00:00

Thursday, July 20th.

Ajax’s bday !! <3”

Your lit up screen reads.

You both let out a chuckle.

“Hey, Childe?” You call him. “Make a wish.”

“I don’t need to.” Constellations are reflected in his azure gaze, lovestruck with images of you dancing amongst them, the smile on his face dopey and entranced.

“Let me give you another present, then.” You tell him, pulling him close again. “Happy birthday, Ajax.” You breathe, as his hands hook under your thighs and your lips crash together again, no onlookers but the moon and stars this time.

[myillusions]

Noisy Sunday (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: You've entered a mindset you're unsure how to come back from, your own emotions drowning you in a pool of despondency. Joel is there, trying to help you pull away from it.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: HEAVYYY angst, fluff, cursing, large descriptions of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts, undefined age gap (reader is of age), kind of dark themes its very somber

A/N: hi hi!! oh my, im so sorry i havent posted in so long. life has been so busy lately with exams and work, but here's this whilst i struggle with that and writers block! sorry (not rlly) that its so angsty, THANK YOU SO MUCH to anyone who reads, i hope u enjoy lovelies! also please please PLEASE i cannot stress this enough; if any of the warnings i've stated make you uncomfortable, please DO NOT read this!! and for anyone who may need to talk, my messages are always open <33

It’s peculiar, you think. How it eats away at you, gnawing down against supple flesh when you’ve already been forcefully spiralled onto the floor. Most say it’s like greeting an old friend; and you agree. It’s almost like reuniting with a family member whom you rarely see at a gathering. The one which then continue to pester you with inquiries you don’t have the vigour to answer. 

It comes in a moment. Sometimes for no reason at all. It reminds you of the subject which stops your musical theatre production mid-way, shining a glaring light towards you whilst you stare wide-eyed back; a deer caught in the headlights. Your character starts to break down around you whilst you’re stood onstage, its pieces cascading along your incapacitated physique like thrashing water which you’ve just dived into from a twenty-foot jump, limbs flailing by your head until the inevitable crash through the translucent liquid stings at your skin.

It attaches itself like a shadow to you, not always so visible yet constantly looming from around your shoulder. It never really made sense to you, how the more the light shines against this tenebrosity, the darker the shadow it casts. Shading you. Smothering you. A copiously adamant fire which refuses to be extinguished, its embers dancing up past the hillocks perched in the distance and threatening to singe anyone who comes near.

It made you yearn for a reposeful night, where the stars shimmered like pools of water in reflection to the sea rather than your own tears surging down your cheeks. Where a modest zephyr tapped gently at your swaying hair, twirling locks around its invisible finger gingerly. Where the whole world paused on its axis, bringing forth those few moments of pure solace. Nothing to bother you, and nothing for you to bother.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” A husky voice drawls out from beside you after the door to the front patio squeals open on its hinges, revealing Joel; adorned in his sleepwear of blue plaid print trousers and a black long-sleeved sweater. Considering his normal attire of worn-down jeans and a permanent scowl, he looked almost ridiculous, but in an admiring sort of way. His inquiry forcefully dragged you from the dazed state you had found yourself caught in, your eyes hauling themselves to face him laboriously slow, like it was strenuous to do so. You blinked a multitude of times to attempt to clear your head of its cloudiness.

You gave a harsh swallow before you even attempted to reply, “Not long. I just needed some water and air.” You lied right through your teeth, wincing towards the factor that a glass of water was sitting idly beside you on a tall and round wooden coffee table, still full to the brim with the reflecting liquid. Joel didn’t look convinced. To be honest, you had maybe caught a total of eight hours of sleep in the past three or four days, if lucky. Your body drums with craving for rest at the deprivation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax for long enough to lull into even a light rest, thoughts striking their way through forcefully in the canvas of your head, ripping downwards to leave their mark fiercely, consistently reminding you that pain is not an easy thing to ignore.

If you could say the apocalypse surfacing has brought you anything, it’s that it’s made you tired. So tired. But there are two types of tired, you suppose; one is a dire need of sleep, the other is a woeful need for peace.

Joel exhales past his nose harshly, his head dipping downwards for a moment, maybe in disappointment- you’re not sure. Either way, your stomach lurches with guilt, and you turn your head to face forward once again and pay rigorous attention to each detail lining the Jackson street in front of your given accommodation. The street was entirely empty, the only sound to be heard within earshot being the light whisk of the breeze against your supple skin, reddening the tip of your nose and turning your fingertips numb. You should’ve guessed Joel wouldn’t believe your white lie. Knowing him, he likely noticed you retracting the sheets from your legs and his arms strewn around your waist at just the start of the night, before tiptoeing down the stairs as quietly as possible to weave through the kitchen then to the front patio, where you have been set for a couple of hours now.

You’re both silent for multiple pregnant pauses, and you have to fight the urge to nibble nervously against your bottom lip, apprehension swirling within your chest.

“Do you want to come back to bed?” Joel tries cautiously, to which you visibly tense. You tilt your chin downwards dubiously, before giving an almost indistinguishable shake of your head from side-to-side.

Joel doesn’t give a response to your discreet answer, but instead pushes himself forwards from where he’s leaned against the doorframe to move past you and settle against the uncomfortable wooden chair opposite your own. The chair creaks as he perches himself there, the only intruding sound to the tranquillity before it swallows you both whole once again, thudding against the thin air which is gradually turning palpable. It’s suffocating.

“…Would you-“ He starts, his gaze turning upwards from the patios surface to face you, “Want to talk about it?”

Your heart throbs agonisingly at his offer, your fingertips tracing the wrecked linen material of your pants. You try a small, consoling smile, one that barely reaches your eyes; your head lifting to face him.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You murmur back, sombrely. You weren’t fibbing about this, though. There was no explanation as to why you were feeling this surge of perplexing emotions. It appeared as if it were just a protruding root sticking awkwardly out from the soiled terrain, its only task to trip and surprise anyone who were unfortunate to tread along. Even if you wanted to talk with Joel about it, you weren’t sure how to put it into words. It’s fine, until it’s not; a surprise.

“I can’t help you if you won’t let me.” Joel speaks, his voice softer than usual, as though he was afraid for what your reaction would be.

You bottom lip purses as you bite down against your tongue roughly, almost drawing blood to quarrel against the melancholy rising in your throat. You’re not sure how to reply- you don’t wish to reply. You would rather descend into the quietude than face this situation. It’s not that you liked the silence, no- you actually despised it. Silence gave any thoughts swirling around the midst of your head permission to inflate and rise to the surface, bobbing up and down there, whilst its limbs helplessly thrash around, wishing to get back to shore.

It's only after you notice that Joel is still peering over at you expectantly do you swallow gratingly, opening your mouth to answer.

“Well, I- It’s not anything, I’m fine-“

“Why can’t you just stop for once in your life?”

“What?” You ask, your voice cracking at its edges. Your brows shoot upwards at his words, taken aback.

“You lie to me, act like you’re okay- when you’re so clearly not and you won’t even let yourself realise that you need help.” He speaks sternly, eyes firmly trained on you- whilst you can’t even meet his gaze, eyesight shifting to anywhere but where he’s sat opposite you.

You weigh over your words, a trepidatious lump forming inside your throat. Your vision blurs at its corners, your brain fogging over with despondency.

“Please don’t make me say it.” You eventually speak again, your voice strained painfully, as your head drops down in a swaying motion, defeated.

Joel doesn’t reply, but instead reaches forward, gently placing his hand atop your own where its set against your thigh. He gives a gentle squeeze, urging you to blink back up towards him, where he’s peering at you with a softened gaze; and you can’t fight off the tears that instantaneously build up against your vision, attempting to rip past your shields and barriers which are gradually toppling down around you.

“I am barely holding on.” You admit, your shoulders slumping forward with the heaved effort of speaking without letting a cry rip through in interruption, causing a few teardrops to plunge down the canvas of your cheeks. A harrowing headache thrums against your forehead, your field of view only worsening, but not enough that you can’t see the way that Joel’s expression is overcome with visible empathy, which only results in making your stomach lurch more.

“And I-“ You exhale sharply, “And I can’t even tell you why. I just- there’s this thing, and it’s weighing over my shoulders. I can’t shake it.”

“You don’t have to find the perfect words. Just tell me what you’re feeling. I’m here.” He encourages softly.

“It’s like- like I’m here, but I’m not. I’m away from my body, watching over myself; whilst continuously being dragged backwards by this unknown force- pushing me somewhere I think I know. It’s like déjà vu, when you walk into a room, and you don’t where you know or remember it from, but you can feel that you recognise it. I-I’m angry, I’m sad and I’m confused. Maybe I just have a built-up resentment against the world.” You speak rather sullenly, but try to mask it with a small, tight-lipped smile towards Joel once your brief monologue comes to an end.

“I can’t say I know exactly what you’re feeling. But… I don’t want you to push me away. I want to try and help you, in any way that I can. But I can’t if you won’t allow me to. And… I don’t want it to seem like I’m tryin’ to coddle you, or anythin’. It’s because- y’know, I care about you.” Joel speaks steadily, his gaze shimmering with uncertainty.

Your heart lurches downwards in repentance with his words, as though you were liable for your own shifting thoughts and feelings. It bruises you; how much you’ve allowed your emotions to take hold, guiding the wheel in a swerve as rubber burns against asphalt distastefully. How far you’ve come, just to end up here. You know you need help. You’re just unsure how to accept any. But you know that you wish to breathe again. To hold out a hand to loved ones. To be afraid of death again. To have excitement at the idea of different winding roads. To feel free as a light breeze washes against your skin, clearing any distress from you in a wave. You wish to dream again. This longing is what powers your words onwards, as you peer over at Joel, vulnerable,

“I need help.”

Joel’s hand raises from the back of your palm, and instead encompasses your icy fingers with his warmer ones, intertwining them. He searches your eyes for a moment, and once he discovers a bold outline of authenticity, he promptly nods towards you.

“Together?”

“Together.” You reply.

It evokes a memory of a familiar oak tree. One you were very accustomed to when you were younger, before the outbreak. As a child, you used to wonder down the street to the park perched at the end after every school day. Outlining the grounds, just opposite a wooden bench, was an oak tree. Tall and mighty; confidence resonating from its stance, daring anyone to meddle with it. Thick arms branching from its moss-coated wood, whilst the lime-coloured leaves bundled against each other cascaded the surrounding distance in shade. You would lay beneath it, basking in the frigid yet reassuring atmosphere it created, hair messily sprawled out around your head. You would frequently come to the spot to just rest within the constant spiralling of the world, watching as the tree’s features changed with the reoccurring seasons; its leaves shifting from green to gold, from gold to ginger, then from ginger to cherry, and then falling, oscillating down to the soil with the wind, before repeating its cycle. It was almost soothing, watching its colours shift around with the change of the earth, whilst resolutely remaining staunch in its attitude, its branches a prime symbol of vigour. Changing, but still remaining what it is; strong. You deeply envied that, and hoped- wished, that someday you would build yourself up to resemble that oak tree.

"We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick." - Atticus

Noisy Sunday - Patrick Watson

Comments and feedback are appreciated!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Nothing Is Lost

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Mentions of attempted sexual assault, death, child death, certain amounts of grief, mentions of incestual marriages (It's ancient Egypt, y'all c'mon) canon divergence/merging

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Hah! Betcha I had y'all convinced it was Khonshu creeping through the window, didn't I? :D But also yeah, there's gonna be some inaccuracies here and there while I merge the show and comics (hello, it's fanfiction, duh) Also we get more backstory on Jezebel! Also idk why but this chapter feels off to me, maybe I'll be able to comprehend better (and possibly make edits) once I've had some sleep!

Taglist: @drinkingwithkhonshu

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Chapter 5:

Pomegranates

"And you're positive it's her?"

Jezebel gripped at the inside of her wrist, knuckles white. She swore she could feel the scales burning her palm.

"I know it's her. It has to be." She affirms.

Zephyr croaked from his perch nearby at the man who stood in a darkened corner of the room.

His hands clasped behind his back, his stark white suit stood out from the rest of him (save for the bots of golden button-up that peaked from beneath his collar). A cleanly shaven head, tanned skin and dark, piercing eyes fixing Jezebel with an intense glare from behind his glasses.

"Jezebel, there is no such thing, really, as knowing, and at the same time thinking something has to be what you want it to be."

"Yehya..." She hissed through her teeth, pressing her fingertips to her temple.

"I don't... I can't explain it to you. You don't understand. I know it's her. I don't know how I do, but... I just do. Trust me, okay?" She looked up at him, her brows softly pinched in a plea.

"I would never do anything to cause Him harm. If I ever did I would sooner kill myself. This could... This could lift Him up, Yehya..." She said to him.

"If it wasn't for your intervention, as well as Khonshu's... I would be dead like almost all of Ammit's blind followers. I would rather my heart serve the Moon, than serve the Soul-Eater."

"Well, Jake Lockley saw to that loose end being tied." Yehya Badr sighed, his posture slumping somewhat as he paced.

He looked at the small golden idol depicting Khonshu, the moon disc proudly displayed upon his head, and his gaze softened.

"Yes, He seems rather keen on utilizing Jake, lately. Whether or not Marc knows about him I cannot say, yet. I must admit, I missed Khonshu's voice whilst he was away, dealing with Spector's insistence on letting his alter, Steven Grant live a "normal" life..." His fingers brushed the base of the statue.

"I just wish he came to me for help. One Fist isn't enough to defend the world."

"It is a war on more than one front. Two Fists means He has more than one weapon to defend the innocent in different places." Jezebel said, sipping her spicy tea.

"Perhaps Khonshu kept you here to carry out his will in his absence? He trusts you enough, believes in your abilities enough that he doesn't need to hang over your shoulders like he does with that Spector fellow and his... brothers."

"Maybe you're right." Yehya said, tilting his head as her turned to look at her again.

"But we're getting off track." He moved to sit in the chair across from her, gingerly holding the teacup in his large hand as he sipped silently.

"You've seen her?" Jezebel asked, quirking a brow.

"Yes. And frankly, she looks like death. She looks like she isn't sleeping, or eating. I'm honestly curious as to when was the last time she saw a doctor."

"There's a reason for that." Jezebel set her cup on the small plate with a clink.

"And that is..." He asked, raising an eyebrow in return.

"She came to me almost a week ago, now. She's been having what she assumed were dreams, but from the little context she's been able to disclose they sound like... visions."

"And these dreams only happened after..."

"She's had them her whole life. They've gotten more intense, more disturbing to her after I gave her the statue and told her to pray to Khonshu for protection."

She reached out to the crystal ball in the middle of the table and waved her hand over it. Briefly, an image of the moon swirled in its depths, before vanishing.

She showed him the conversation she'd had with you, the things you said happened, what you dreamt and what happened to the man who tried to rape you.

Yehya's brow furrowed deeply as he listened, absorbing every detail before the images in the crystal vanished.

"...That does sound concerning. You... Do you think Khonshu himself saved her? Directly?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Jezebel sighed. "She can't ascertain any details of her dreams for me to build more, and well... Given that it has been so long, perhaps she has access to magic, like I do. It can explain some of the things she dreams, her "feeling" as she describes it... Things change, though that body isn't the original, who is to say she doesn't have a gift for magic in this life?"

"You're a mystic. A priestess. This woman... She cleans offices." He said skeptically, leaning back in the chair.

"Merit was simply the cousin of a wealthy man." Jezebel said, her gaze narrowing sharply. "She was a scholar, a scribe. That isn't much higher than a cleaner, these days."

"...A scribe with the ear and arm of a god." He murmured.

He met her gaze with his own.

"But you don't know for certain."

"It... It might not be Merit. It could be someone else, but I just..." Jezebel ran a hand through her hair.

"I feel it, Yehya. Inside me. I feel a connection to her, and it's one I haven't felt since..."

Yehya reached out and touched her hand in a comforting gesture, knowing the subject was a tense one for her.

"I know." He said. Then, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a sigh that he exhaled slowly.

"I will investigate, watch this woman from afar. I will see if there is any truth to your suspicions. And if there is, I must watch her, ensure she is kept safe so history does not repeat itself."

"...Maybe she can tell us who killed her." She whispered softly.

Yehya's head snapped to look at her. "Whoever it was is most likely long dead."

"But if they aren't... Justice might finally be dealt. He can finally have closure to the mystery." She insisted, tapping the table with her fingers.

"Perhaps." He conceded.

Yet again, Jezebel astounded him.

"Has Khonshu mentioned any changes with Merit's tomb?" She asked him. "Has anybody found it?"

"No, it is tucked so far away within the desert and hidden with magic. The previous Fists did well to conceal her tomb and keep her safe. Khonshu would certainly have mentioned if interlopers had raided the place."

"Good. Maybe one day..."

Yehya made a dry chuckle.

"If this woman is Merit. Maybe. But who wants to visit their own grave?"

"You'd be surprised, Yehya." Jezebel smiled, sipping her tea.

"Graveyards are often haunted. By the living and the dead. Some by choice."

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You pulled at the hem of your apron beneath the table, nerves frayed and body exhausted.

When was the last time you ate? You ate this morning, right? You were sure of it.

You had honey and bread, with some dates.

Or... did you? Was that another dream, too?

But, wait...

You hadn't slept. At all. You were so sleep deprived that the line between the waking and sleeping world were blurred so well that you were jumpy, seeing things even when you were awake.

You would be walking down the street and all of a sudden you'd be on a cliff, overlooking some kind of town, or a city, the stars and moon shining high above you. You stopped yourself before you fell over the edge, or a large hand on your shoulder jerked you back.

Yeah, when you snapped out of it you saw you had almost been hit by a car and a cyclist pulled you back to safety before you got turned into street pizza.

You were dreaming even when you were awake, it seemed.

Right now, a horrid pit was in your stomach, your nerves tangled and twisted violently together. You had been up for nearly three days. You knew that legally you were insane once you'd gone past the 72 hour marker. But you were just so afraid to sleep because of your dreams that you just... You couldn't. You couldn't stand it.

And here you were, in your boss's office. Not just the guy in charge of the cleaners, but the whole building itself.

It was currently 9:27 am, your old, beat up watch told you.

You raised your eyes to look at your reflection in the small mirror on his desk, and squeezed your eyes shut.

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The incense filled the air, the smell coming in off the Nile and the blooms around it being carried on the wind, straight into your house.

You hummed as you looked into your golden mirror, applying with great care and practice your kohl eyeliner, applying your wings; being careful not to poke yourself with the stick. Then, you begin drawing out your eyebrows, the end slope following the curve of your wings.

You take a moment to admire yourself, smiling proudly at the turquoise coloring you'd applied on your eyes, and how well it complimented your looks, highlighting the blackness of your liner, and stood out starkly against your darkened skin.

Setting the kohl stick down, you grab the reed with the red ochre attached and begin to daintily apply it to your lips, giving yourself a nice red tint.

Once finished with that, you placed your used tools on your makeup pallet.

When you were finished applying your makeup, you set down your mirror and reached out to your cosmetics box, and grabbed a small ivory pot and opened it and dipped your fingers in the scented oil, dabbing it on your wrists and throat, rubbing it into your skin in gentle circles, the spice and sweetness mixing together into an intoxicating scent.

You run your hand over your shaved scalp, feeling the fuzzy beginnings of new hair growth start to form. You frowned.

Ugh, you'd have to shave it again when it got too long. You did not want to risk getting infested with lice.

You would cross that road when you came to it.

You stand, and go over to the chest at the foot of your bed, trying to decide on what to wear, as you were still only clad in your small trappings that only covered your nethers.

It was rather hot today, the heat already stifling in the early morning.

So, you decided on your beaded dress. A garment that left little to the imagination, yes, but given the summer heat many opted for the most breezy and comfortable clothing available in their wardrobes, the richer ladies opting for beads to accentuate their beauty.

You grab the garment and slide it over yourself, beads tinkling as you do so. The upper edge lay on your ribs below your breasts, the straps coming up and over your shoulders to cover your breasts (barely, given the style of beading).

Once clothed, you walk back over to your vanity and grab the golden and beaded neck collar your father gifted to you a week before he died. It was your favorite piece, depicting the face of your mother, who, passed away not long after your younger brother, whom had drowned when playing in the Nile. His body had gotten swept away in the currents and it was a full day before they fished him from the waters.

Your mother mourned painfully, loudly... Her cries, you felt, could still be heard even in your dreams as a girl...

Your father told you the pain of losing him was simply too much, and the Gods decided they couldn't keep her separated from her younger child any longer; that her prayers and desperate cries for her son broke the very heart of Anubis himself, so they showed mercy and claimed her early so she could reunite with your brother and ease her suffering.

After your father's death, the golden collar had been modified at your request, showing a depiction of both your father and brother as well, happily holding onto one another in Sekhet-Aaru.

The only members left of your family were you and your cousin, whom your father once tried to marry you off to. You declined, and surprisingly your father accepted. Mostly because your cousin had already expressed an interest in the daughter from another noble family, one closely related to the royal line. Your cousin graciously allowed you to live with her and his new family, mostly because you and his wife had become steadfast and loyal friends, especially after you helped her through the birth of their daughter. Your cousin exalted her birth and graciously left lavish offerings to Taweret and Hathor as thanks for their protection during the pregnancy and birth.

You sighed wistfully at the thought of family. Your parents would never see you wed, or have children of your own. Your father passed away three seasons ago, leaving you the last of his line.

The collar had always allowed you to feel their embrace, even if it was only by the cold of the soft metal and beadwork.

You sigh once more at the sentiment and go to put in your heavy turquoise earrings (to match your makeup and the beads on your dress). Then it was the ivory bracelets on your wrist, and the simple silver anklet that hung over your foot, the cold material soothing you.

It had been a recent gift from your lover. It pleasantly surprised you, you honestly hadn't expected him to be one for gifts such as these.

Inside the anklet were carvings depicting a poem of sorts dedicated to you.

"To my love,

Without you I would have no sky.

There would be no inky black to hang the stars,

The jewels of the night.

Or for the Moon to rest and shine down upon you."

You giggled as you reached for your crimped wig, sliding it comfortably into place before applying the gold and silver chains you hung as a sort of extra ornamentation. After that, you reached for your linen shawl and draped it over your shoulders, tucking it in so it concealed yourself just a bit more conservatively than your dress on its own did.

Afterwards you slipped on your most comfortable sandals and grabbed your basket, as well as whatever items you would need to trade for things you'd need or like. Sure, you could have the servants do the shopping, but then you'd never get out of the house, save for when your lover whisked you away into the night.

You wanted to feel the sun on your skin, as blistering as it was, feel the breeze on your face; feel the atmosphere of a bustling market.

You pause to look at the altar across from your bed, where the incense burned and your offerings lay.

You wondered if you should shed these clothes once you got back from the market, or from the Palace this evening.

You certainly had an excuse, it was hot, after all.

He would come tonight, your lover. And already you knew what the night would entail once the two of you embraced.

Before you leave your room, you lean over and kiss the statue on the altar, smiling happily.

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You jerk your head up with a start and blink when you see your boss sitting in front of you, looking concerned.

You glanced down to your watch.

9:32 AM.

It felt like hours you had been in that dream. Maybe less, but it sure felt like a while. But it had only been a few minutes. Did you nod off when you weren't paying attention..?

He repeated your name again, and you cleared your throat.

"Y-yes sir?" You asked meekly.

"I've received several concerns from your coworkers about you." He sighed, opening the file and flicking through the papers.

"You've been a loyal employee, you've almost never missed a day since you were hired..." He continued to list off the hood things you'd done since coming to work, there.

However that icy, nagging feeling in your gut wouldn't go away.

"But the concerns are regarding your well-being. At first I paid them no mind, until I saw you with my own eyes." His bushy brows furrowed deeply, a frown crinkling his salt-and-pepper beard.

"Alec is a good friend of mine, and he as well told me how you've been feeling. He also told me recently about a man who has been spotted in the vicinity, watching you through the windows."

"Th-that was one time..." You peep.

"Well, given everything that's happened to you, kid... I'd rather not risk it." He scribbled something down in one of the binders on his desk, before hastily typing on his computer.

"As of this second, you're on your PTO."

You felt your mental train derail as you blinked dumbly at him.

"But--"

"No buts, missy. You're obviously not well, and I can't have you passing out on the job or falling down stairs. That's dangerous to your health and my company's reputation. You've racked up enough time to..." He blinked outrageously.

"...You've worked long enough that you could take a few months off work. For now, I'm giving you just two. You need to see a doctor, and get help."

He locked his gray eyes with yours.

"I think you got narcolepsy, kid. I had an aunt who had it when I was a kid. It's not good, that's what got her killed. Passed out at the wheel and got into a wreck."

He stood up from his chair, walked over to you, and rested his hand on your shoulder, fixing you with a gaze most would save for their child or grandchild.

"Trust me, kid. You're one of the best cleaners I've ever hired. Probably the smartest, though Alec tries, bless his soul. The man has admitted he's never been the sharpest tack in the box..." He chuckled a bit. "I'd hate to lose you to your health, of all things. It'd be easier to handle if you were poached out by some other company."

Your jaw hung, opening and closing but you couldn't think of words to say.

"Go on, kid. I have a meeting to get to. Go home, eat something, and take a nap."

As you were gently ushered out of his office, you were left in the quiet ambience of the sterile hallway, the buzzing of the lights above droning endlessly into your ears.

Great.

Just great.

What the hell were you supposed to do for two months?

Maybe... you could conduct some more research. Learn more about Egypt, keep writing your dreams down, and go see Jezebel again...

But first things first... You had to figure out why your hands wouldn't stop tingling.

That would have to wait. At this point you didn't care if you didn't get well-rested.

You needed sleep.

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Chapter 6: Link

[sanjoongie]

Blood Moon: Echoes of Saturn~ Chapter 1!

Zephyr's Chapter for the Blood Moon series: ☾Teaser | ☾Masterlist | ☾Blood Moon: The Forsaken (Rayne's)

☾Synopsis: Times are rough with one of your good friends missing, but times are even rougher when you wake up to your roommate being fed on by a vampire. ☾Pairing: Wooyoung x San x Named! Reader(f) Zephyr ☾Genre: smut, angst, horror ☾Au: Vampire au, supernatural au ☾Trope: s2l, roommates to lovers, f2l, poly ☾Rating: 18+ MDNI ☾Warnings: ⚠️blood, biting, violence, death⚠️ ☾Word Count: 3,328 ☾Kinks: aphrodisiac, dry humping, penetration without barrier, voyeurism, blood play, hint of mxm ☾Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for their ability to beta at a moments notice. love you guys

credits for banner by @cafekitsune

Wooyoung followed Yeosang into the night, his hood pulled up, prepared to blend into the shadows. Yeosang turned towards Wooyoung and the latter felt a pull and said, “Care to cause mayhem with me this night? It is, after all, the Hunter’s moon and the perfect remedy to cause chaos.”

“I think I’ll join you.” Wooyoung watched on as Yeosang pulled his hood up, catching a glimpse of a smirk before it was hidden by the dark material. 

☾☾☾

San woke up to the ringing of his phone. A quick glance at the time made him sigh. He just wanted the blessed release of sleep. His stomach dropped to see Yunho's name on the caller ID.

"Yunho, what's wrong?" San answered the phone bluntly.

Yunho informed him that their friend Seonghwa was missing. San's breathing sped up as he also dropped the tidbit that with all the blood on the scene--and no body--they suspected foul play.

San breathed in sharply. This was just another drop in the pond that was his shitty life. But Zephyr didn't need her sleep broken up, nor this information dropped on her. San decided to tell her in the morning.

"I'll tell Zephyr, don't worry," San replied. He paused for a moment, worrying for his other friend as well. "Take care of yourself, Yun, and the others, 'Kay?"

"About that…" Yunho sighed heavily, "I haven't heard anything from Rayne either. Seonghwa was supposed to meet her after work. I assured Zephyr it was all good but now I'm even more worried."

San cursed heavily under his breath. He knew something was wrong. Why would Zeph keep this from him? What was going on with his life right now? San hung up with Yunho, promising to talk to Zephyr about it all. 

He meandered to his balcony, opening up the door and letting the cool fall air hit him. His anger burned a rage inside of him. His family was giving him shit recently about not being as successful in his life like his sister. Work was sucking his life from him. One of his friends was missing. And the one safety net, his roommate and true love, was hiding things from him. His anger raged but tears sprung from his tear ducts.

“Fuck it,” San said as he dashed away his tears that wouldn’t stop, “I just wish the world would burn right now.”

☾☾☾

Wooyoung was in the middle of a feeding, the only noise in the dirty alleyway was the weak whimpers of his food and the wet noise of his tongue and teeth playing with the wound at his victim’s neck. That was until he heard the most intriguing phrase a human had ever uttered in his presence. He hadn't expected that to be the reaction of hearing about his friend missing. This was going to be fun.

The master vampire dropped his prey immediately and scanned above him. There was a man on a balcony, leaned forward with his head in his hands. Wooyoung leaped up without difficulty, pulling himself up and over the balcony railing. “I can arrange that.”

The man’s eyes couldn't have bulged out of his head any more than they were. “What? How? Who?” he almost couldn't decide what answer for which question he truly wanted.

Wooyoung leaned back against the railing, as if it was every day that he vaulted a few floors into the air to talk to someone. “You wanna burn the world down? I could give you that power.”

The man opened his mouth to ask the right question but when Wooyoung rubbed his elongated canine with his pinky, the man clued in. “...vampire?”

“Ding ding ding,” Wooyoung sang comedically. “Wanna be one?”

“I…” The man frowned heavily and then his head swung back towards his room.

“Oh, you got someone in your bed right now? I could use another bite before I change you, honestly, that last one’s blood was a bit bitter.” Wooyoung craned his neck to peer into the man’s bedroom but the bed was empty. “No one’s here, hmmm, that’s not what Hongjoong found out.”

“Can you really change me into a vampire?” The man brought Wooyoung’s attention back to him.

Wooyoung tapped his finger against his lip, drawing attention to the mole that was there. “I could. Do I want to? Do you want to?”

“I could…” The man licked his lips, “I could leave this world behind?”

Wooyoung snickered. “It’s kind of exclusive. No telling Mom you changed careers.”

“First, we should introduce ourselves before I put you on this journey,” Wooyoung instructed.

“San.”

“Wooyoung.”

They stood there, eyeing each other up before Wooyoung took a step towards San. “It’s going to hurt. I will have to bite you many times. It’s not pretty. And there’s no stopping once we begin.”

San swallowed but his body language was strong. “Do it.”

Wooyoung moved faster than the human eye and grabbed San’s wrist. “First I like to start far from the heart, so that it’s not that quick.” And then like a snake, Wooyoung struck. His canine’s dug deep into the veins at San’s wrist. San gasped loudly in pain and moved into his room. 

Wooyoung walked after him. “Sure you don’t have anyone you want to say goodbye to?”

“Zephyr,” San murmured your name.

Wooyoung snapped his fingers. “That’s the one.” 

San’s mouth pursed in anger. “She…she’s sleeping. Besides, I don’t think she’ll miss me.”

“Shame,” Wooyoung murmured. He came up in front of San and cupped the back of his neck. “Ready?”

San nodded tightly and then Wooyoung bit into San’s neck. San groaned this time, feeling something pass through his veins. He felt weak and powerful at the same time. San felt his mind swirly with his recent thoughts. His family. His job. His…

“Zephyr,” San whispered your name again.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Oh, go to her already, you idiot.”

San, in his delirium, opened his door and pushed into yours. You were sound asleep by now but your sheets were twisted around your body like you had struggled to sleep. San wanted desperately to crawl into your bed and curl his body around you. He wanted to support you but also cry on your shoulder. But he felt like you were pulling further and further away from him. 

San struggled but moved to the foot of your bed. He stared at you, wondering and wishing and hoping you would wake up and look at him one more time before he became… not of this world. 

“Time’s up, Lover boy,” Wooyoung whispered behind San.

☾☾☾

Your eyes struggled to open but you were certain you had heard something that had pulled you from your slumber. There were small noises of pain and gurgling but what could that possibly be? Your eyes opened finally, sleep making them blurry that you didn’t react immediately to two dark shapes in front of your bed. Once they focused, you gasped, sitting up in your bed.

“San?!”

There was a man behind him, grinning maniacally over his shoulder. There was blood dripping down his chin and blood smeared on the other side of San’s neck. You watched, in almost slow motion, as the stranger’s elongated canines flashed from the bright red moon outside and then plunged into San’s neck. You cried out, throwing your hand like you wanted to halt the pain. But you could do nothing.

The stranger raised his wrist to San’s mouth, licking his lips as if San’s blood was the tastiest, and watched with sharp eyes as his blood dripped into San’s mouth. He then pushed San onto your bed purposely.

You watched in horror as San collapsed on the foot of your bed bonelessly. Then, San’s eyes snapped open. He stared straight at you as his spine curved backwards, crying out in pain. Then he curled into himself, as small as he could get. 

“He-help him!” You demanded.

The stranger, who let out a loud ‘whew!’ moved over to the chair you had in the corner of your bedroom. He was licking the blood on his hands with a long swipe of his tongue before collapsing onto the chair as if he had just had a long day at work. “Been a while since I’ve done that. Forgot how exhilarating it is.”

You reached for your phone but the man on the chair halted you. “That’s not a good idea. You don’t want more people hurt on this night, do you?”

Your phone remained in your lap but you locked it again. “Why are you doing this?”

“Oh,” Wooyoung smirked knowingly, “He asked for it, I’ll have you know. He wanted to be turned. Course, you knew something was up the minute you got those weird texts, didn’t you? Didn’t bother to tell poor San though, did you? He was awfully hurt by you pushing him away, you know.”

You clutched your phone hard, edges digging into your fingers. “What do you know about those?” 

Wooyoung shrugged. “Kinda weird, don't you think that one of your friends is sending you weird messages. And then your other friend goes missing. What’s his name? Seong--”

“Hwa?” You cried out. “What’s happening? Seonghwa is missing? What’s happened to Rayne?” You tried to type on your phone. Your messages to Yunho the last thing you had opened. You couldn't look down, desperately trying to type something to warn Yunho that there was a vampire in your room and that Seonghwa and Rayne were--

San groaned and began to loosen his balled state. “San?” You called out.

“Zeph,” San panted your name, clawing his way up your legs. “You…you smell…”

“San!” You squealed, “What’s going on?”

“If he doesn’t feed from you, he’ll die, you know,” The unknown figure who collapsed on your chair spoke again.

“S-san?” You stuttered.

San groaned, his head finally tucked into the crook of your neck, mouthing at the sensitive flesh there. “I--I want to bite you.”

“But!” You were alarmed. “I don’t want to be a vampire.”

In a flash, the strange man is now sitting on your bed. “Oh, don’t worry about that. San can’t turn you. Only I can.”

San whimpered, the tips of his teeth scraping against your throat. “Zeph.”

“It’ll feel good, you know,” The strange man said while picking blood out from under his nails. “If San bites you. You’ll reach heights never known to most humans.” He laughed quietly to himself, “Well, most only feel it before they die.”

“Wooyoung!” San murmured against your collarbone now, “Help.”

Wooyoung, the man with the blood dripping down his naked chest, one leg crossed over his knee, rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed. “Fine. If you agree to provide San with blood, I’ll explain everything to you.” Wooyoung dragged a sharp, pointed pointer finger along your main artery on your neck. “Just give me the word and we’ll begin.”

You swallowed roughly. Wooyoung said San would die. Wooyoung said he would tell you everything. You had no idea what was going on. Was Rayne okay? Was Seonghwa okay? Deep in your gut, you wanted the truth but you were afraid of the answers. Still, you found yourself nodding.

You gasped in pain as Wooyoung scratched you deep enough to bleed. San moaned and licked the trail of blood Wooyoung had created. Once the blood hit San’s tongue, he growled deep in his chest, the noise vibrating through your body and then he bit where Wooyoung had scratched. You cried out in more pain, having never felt a bite like that. San hummed as he drank, arms tightening around you like he needed more. 

You whined and felt your body shiver. You felt hot and bothered all at the same time but San’s cool body felt amazing against your skin. You wanted San to sink into you, both teeth and tongue and cock and--you shook your head. No, San was your roommate, that wasn’t supposed to--you gasped again, this time as your pussy throbbed with need. San’s large body was suddenly slotted between your legs and a simple adjustment had your hips bucking upwards for more.

Wooyoung chuckled deeply. “See, I told you it would feel good.”

“More,” San moaned for a moment before licking the blood around the two puncture wounds and then greedily slurping for more of your blood.

“San!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but you needed him.

Where your friend had been weak before, San suddenly grew in power with the blood you provided. His tongue came out to swipe at some blood at the corner of his lips. San looked towards Wooyoung for more guidance. 

Wooyoung smirked. “Your venom has entered her blood stream. She wants more of you, San. Think you can provide?”

San’s eyes swung back towards yours. Your eyes widened as you realized the wounds Wooyoung had inflicted on him were almost healed now. “Zephyr,” the way he says your name has your nipples tightening and your air caught in the back of your throat.

“Sannie, please!” You whine pathetically. “Fuck me while you take more of my blood. I think I’ll burn up and die without you.”

San smiled, his lips pulling upwards to one side. This changed-San wasn’t your cuddly roommate any longer. San wasted no time tearing off your bedtime clothes and his bloody ones. He held himself above you, lower half pressed into your own. You whimpered as he grinded himself against your thigh, your pussy only crying out for more. Once he sank deep into you, the curve of his cock pressing against the spongy part inside of you, you gasped his name. You felt like your blood was rushing through your body, making every part of you sensitive with need. 

San dipped his head to drink from you again, moaning as your sweet blood hit his tongue once again. His tongue pushed at Wooyoung’s scratch as well, lapping as your blood spilled anew. His hips began to recede and push against yours and you found your arms reaching under San’s arms. Your fingertips dug into his muscled back and San groaned for you. 

San’s hips almost lazily worked against yours, his cock twitching inside of your silky heat as he glided in and out. “More,” You moaned, “More!”

Wooyoung clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Such a perfect little treat for you, isn’t she, San?”

“I--” San’s eyes appeared unfocused and glossy. “I can’t tell where I end and she begins.”

“San, Sannie,” You beseeched your best friend. His eyes whirled but settled on the blood that was seeping as a pearl at your neck. “I want you. But I want your blood more.”

You cried out and thrusted your hips upwards in order to get what your body was screaming for. Slowly, but surely, San thrusted into you again and again and you arched your back. Your legs wrapped around his tiny waist, unwilling to let go until you found your release. San wrapped his arms around your upper body even tighter, practically restricting your airflow. The two of you were like two snakes mating, undilating around each other; you were searching for a climax and San was looking for more blood. 

“San, San, I’m gonna--unffff--I’m gonna--fuuucckkk--please--please!” You choke on your own words, nails dragging down San’s back, as your climax ripped through your nerves. The rush of dopamine through your blood soothed the venom in you and you settled back into your bed, pleased and weak.

So weak, as San continued to drink from you, you felt your arms fall to the bed. Was there a ringing in your ear or was that your climax slowly fading away? “Sa-saaa…” Your voice was timid and the edges of your vision became sparkly and shadowy at the same time.

A large, breathy sigh could be heard and suddenly Wooyoung’s handsome face could be seen above San’s shoulder in your vision. Wooyoung wretched San’s head back from the crook of your neck. “You’re going to kill her, Sannie” He mock-cooed at your best friend.

San’s eye sharpened slightly. “So good,” he sighed contently.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed down on you, a tiny smile pulling at a corner of his mouth. “Yes, she does smell tempting, I’ll give you that. But if you don’t want Zephyr to die, you need to stop drinking from her.”

“He-elp?” You begged.

“Oh, you two are useless,” Wooyoung grumbled. 

“I can save her, San,” Wooyoung intoned, “You’ve drunk too deeply from her. I can give her some of my blood to save her but that will make her a part of our world now.”

San whimpered and shook his head. “No, that… I don’t…”

Wooyoung shrugged. “It’s that or she dies.”

“Zephyr, I’m sorry,” San apologized, a tear falling down one of his high cheekbones. He nodded swiftly and then looked away.

Wooyoung carefully nicked a vein in his wrist and then dribbled the blood to your lips. Instinctively, your tongue licked the wetness on your lips and you watched as the shadows across your vision slowly sunk back. Your weakness pushed back a tiny bit and you whimpered. Wooyoung pushed his wrist to your mouth and his blood splashed on your tongue. You winced at the copper-sweet taste and he laughed under his breath. “Just a little bit more and you’ll be okay.” After a few swallows, he pulled his wrist back and you saw how it healed immediately.

With San laying on one side, breathing evening out, still awake but looking as if he just finished the best, most satisfying meal of his life, you looked back at Wooyoung. Wooyoung sat on your other side, one leg tucked under him. Wooyoung was humming under his breath as he licked a finger and swiped it along the dried blood. It was almost as if he was cleaning you up. He pushed some hair behind your ear. “You’ll make such a perfect human servant for him, you know,” He murmured.  

“You--” You stumbled with your words, mouth and throat dry. “You said--”

Wooyoung’s lips flattened into a line, pushing the balls of his cheeks upwards. “I’ll explain everything, but you and San almost died. So you should sleep.” Wooyoung got up and closed your balcony doors and pulled the black out curtains firmly in place. “We should all rest while the sun comes up again.”

“Why…?” Still, you searched for something to grasp before you fell into a healing sleep.

“Sweet, precious human,” Wooyoung smirked and that was the last thing you heard and saw before you finally closed your eyes.

☾☾☾

Wooyoung watched as your eyelashes flickered across your cheekbone and your lips parted in a sigh. You were truly a delectable treat, just like San was. He was going to enjoy pushing and pulling you two together. The three of you, now Master, Newly-Turned and Servant, were bound together for eternity now. 

Wooyoung found your phone amongst your sheets and unlocked it by putting it in front of your face. His eyes quickly scanned the creepy messages Yeosang had sent you through Rayne’s phone. He found the messages you had exchanged with Yunho and Seonghwa. He clucked his tongue when he found the misspelled texts you had tried to send Yunho to warn him what was going on. Then Yunho’s desperate texts to understand.

Wooyoung typed out a text, certain this would be the final nail in the coffin to enticing your friends further into this whirlpool of a plot to have fun on the hunter’s full moon. ‘Don’t go looking for answers to questions you don’t truly want the answers to.’

“I can’t have all the fun,” Wooyoung muttered to himself, “Hopefully Hongjoong and Jongho don’t go easy on them.”

Wooyoung put your phone down and snuggled up on the other side of you. He could hear your blood pumping through your heart and closed his eyes. He forgot how comforting it was to fall asleep like that.

Taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @starlitmark @mingsolo @pyeonghongrie

[ack3rlady]

Sleep Tight, My Love...

Summary: Sleep is a rare luxury for the veterans. Let's let them sleep just a little longer

Pairing: I couldn't decide :( So, Survey Corps Men x Reader

Notes: Fluff

WC: ~ 1K

Masterlist

A pair of eyes flitter open, mightily fighting the remnants of the sandman’s doings to admire the dawn’s glory. Tender rays of the sun seep in through the crevices in between the curtains. Aged maple trees outside play peek-a-boo when they sway. Your cozy little room is painted in a warm hue. The greys are rapidly fading, making way for a blush of pink.  

It is not very often that your mind finds itself at peace through the life you have been cursed to live. A fleeting sanctum. 

You crane your neck to get a better look outside the window, shifting the curtain oh so slightly with your fingers. Maybe, you can squeeze in another hour of sleep, for the sun himself is barely awake. Mellow radiance blossoms from behind the mammoth stone barrier, a sliver of scarlet beginning to peak its head over it.  

The wall stands tall as ever. The only thing that gives you and your fellow comrades, a much-needed breather from the never-ending turmoil. The only phenomenon that allows you to open your eyes to a new day, just like this one. Only until the next time you are commanded to venture beyond it. 

The dream catcher that gracefully dangles from the window frame, dances with the zephyr; its shadow on the oak floor accompanying it with zeal. You have wondered many times whether the contraption even works, as it seldom does its job of keeping the nightmares away.  

A sleepy groan startles you. 

You let the curtain fall back in place and turn towards the man asleep by your side. A little sting to your heart for having woken him up when you let the light fall on his face. You aren't even sure how long he has been here for. How careful he must have been when he slipped into bed in the dead of the night, heedful not to wake his love up with the slightest movement. And here you are, callous as ever, allowing that pesky ball of fire to break his slumber. 

You whisper a quick apology, snuggling deeper into the sheets as you move closer to him. A smile creeps its way to your lips. How beautiful he looks, more so when he sleeps. Angelic, almost. Getting the rest, he so deserves in the cocoon of your matchbox quarters. If it were up to you, you would single handedly slay all the demons in the world just so that he could rest a little longer.  

You admire his every contour, every scar, every blemish, every pore, and how the light bounces off his skin, how his hair is disheveled after he buried his face in the pillow, how his lashes quiver, irises playing hide and seek from behind the veil; how his lips are slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of pearly teeth, how he breathes slowly but steadily. 

Your wandering gaze halts abruptly. What is that? 

He holds a frown. You clench your fist, quietly chastising yourself for having held the curtain open for that long. The lines on his forehead are deep, and brows knitted. He has fallen back asleep, but the annoyance stays behind and lurks in his expression. You bring your hand to his face, gently grazing the furrows with the pad of your thumb. He tuts, prompting you to instantly stop what you are doing. 

You behold him a while, hoping the wrinkles will iron themselves out. But the scowl is persistent. And so are you. He is known to be irritable when deprived of sleep, for it is nothing less than a luxury for people like you. You’re always complaining that he never gets enough of it. And now when he is, you are in the mood to play with fire. 

You make the bold move of repeating the act, trying hard to be gentler than the last time. Your feathery touch tickles, making his nose crinkle. You can’t help but mirror him. He looks adorable. You’re obviously going to tease him about it when you steal some moments for yourself later in the day. 

You are confident that you’re in for a scolding this time. Instead, he inhales deeply and stirs; eyes still tightly shut. His arm snakes its way around your waist and he pulls you close. You are taken aback but take no time to wrap yours around his head and press a kiss in between his brows. 

“Is it time already?” his voice is raspy. 

“We’ve got some more,” you kiss his crown. 

Two smiles grow. His, in a sleepy bliss, and yours, in accomplishment. Tranquility drapes him again as he weaves in and out of languor and nestles into your chest. He hums whilst breathing you in deeply, as if you emit a fragrance that could instantly knock him out. And you do exactly that, since it isn't long before soft snores begin to fill the silence again. 

You card your fingers through his silken hair and thank the universe for giving you a few more minutes of serenity with your love. For allowing you to feel him close for a little longer, for permitting his warmth to permeate your skin a little deeper, for letting his embrace envelope you a little tighter. But most importantly, you thank the universe for keeping the thoughts of his responsibilities and the weight of his hardships, a little farther.  

And with that, you let yourself sink into his hold, silently wishing for the sun to slow down in its track, and for the clock to take a break from ticking. This time, you are mindful not to repeat old mistakes as you say in a voice that is a mere breeze, “Sleep tight, my love.” 

Masterlist

[demure2]

Blood is Thicker Than Wine _ ONE

> BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WINE [MASTERLIST]

— 1930s au

— yandere neighbor!chanyeol x reader || ft. best friend!sehun

— genre: angst, suggestive

— warnings: language, alcohol use, cigarette/substance use, mental illness, watching from afar, anxiety, gun, blood, older fella chanyeol

— word count: 3.1k

— note: this story has been in my drive for 3 years, even tho this is the first piece on my account. i even had a timeline at the bottom of my draft to make sure war dates and stuff lined up hehe. it's O.K. if this doesn't do well since i'm writing for fun, but i'm happy i got at least part one of this out! then i can finally put this series to rest. i’m sorry that this kinda introductory part doesn’t have many interactions with chanyeol yet. i want to accurately convey the reader’s relationship with sehun before i make it fall apart :)

Girls like you loathe compliance but act it, anyway. You go against rules and you wear two faces, but you’re still compliant because nobody knows. Nobody suspects a thing, and you’ll keep it that way.

There’s not much to it, really: keep your papers in neat stacks, your dollars in even neater stacks, and your mouth shut. It’s a commitment, but it's applicable to the art of both compliance and not. That’s how this town runs. Girls like you are compliant.

Lately, alcohol traffic has been wedging tension into champagne bottles ready to pop, like faulty cork stoppers. Tenfold, and you’ve seen it. Tons of progeny craft succumbing to the paradigm of unrelentless violations of law, but you swore to never break the rules. That includes even the unspoken ones, like knowing to not mess with the neighborhood weirdo, Mr. Park.

Technically, you were just helping your best friend Sehun deliver night mail. It’s part of his job. 

“What a hound,” Sehun pants, steadying himself by gripping the fabric layering over your shoulder with calloused hands. Orphically, his brown irises are suddenly void of any liveliness. He’s exasperated, pupils fitfully blown out wide, the onyx barrier warped in various ways. Ways that make him look wild, more unimaginably feral than the manor overgrown with vines and rusted trellises in front of you.

 “I gummed up the works on this one,” he coos, lowly. Sehun’s arm parts from your shoulder to clutch his heart, breath hitching. He shudders, even in the cooling night zephyr. “Guess your momma was right all along,” he breathes. Mimicking a high-pitched voice, “stop hanging out with Sehun! He’s a neighborhood no-good nick who delivers mail for a few cents!”

You grin, wide. “So?”

Sehun looks at you like a stray pet. “Town mail won’t deliver itself,” you offer. "You’re an author, too, delivering your own work. That’s important. Don’t say useless things to me, Sehun.” The tone of the night becomes less tense. Smirking, you continue: “relax, then tell me what happened in that freak’s house.”

Your teeth bite down on your tongue, eyes narrow and reflecting the moonlight. 

You don’t know why you’re expecting a longer, well thought-out response from the Sehun you’re looking at right now. His short hair damp from the sweat and mild rain, parted in awkward tranches - you’re not used to comforting him, although it feels good to be the one seeing Sehun vulnerable, for once.

While you’re waiting for Sehun to rearrange his thoughts, you run your hand against the bars of iron separating you from the front yard of the manor. The sounds are a symphony of metal clink-clanks against your graceful nails, free of overgrown cuticles or ragged whites, unlike Sehun’s. The bars are hollow iron, but their wounds are merely rusted scratches, like they don’t give in over the years. 

Neither does Sehun.

Lazed back. Real lazy. Doesn’t like thinking about what he is, why he is, who he is. He’s thought about it before; things like whether or not cabbage was really nutritious (it’s just water), whether or not he wanted to be a writer forever, whether or not he should tell you about the car shop home, whether or not he loved you more than just a friend. 

It’s fated, and so he doesn’t bother to delve deeper than what he needs to know. He just knows that it’s all bliss when he’s with you. And he knows that he’s in love with this life: the rush, the fights, hell, he had almost forgotten his dad was a cop. Just like magnets, though polar opposites, you stick together. Late night escapades into the apple of the town was just another habit branded deep into your history.

He feels like laughing at his own inanity, so he parts his lips, but not even the chuckle at the edge of his throat makes it past. Something irks him uncomfortably about what happened tonight, so he clears his gullet filling up with phlegm and blames the bright waning moon. It used to be so full of itself, now only a needle in the vista expanse of night. Sehun breathes harder now, because he realizes that they’re not so different.

Sehun finally speaks: “Well, I just tried to throw the freak his mail. But I think I set off his flares, doll. Mr. Park - he’s really a bent man, broken after the war. There was an iron on his hip, a-and as soon as I saw it leave his belt loop, I didn't have a doubt that he’s not wicked.”

Sehun’s joints ache uncomfortably despite wherever he shifts his weight toward, so he leans against the tall wire fence guarding the manor. He feels an ivy trickle down the nape of his neck everytime he tilts his head to the side. Nuances here, nuances there. Last time you both were out here, there weren’t any ivies. Were there?

Mr. Park stands leaning back, intently listening from the arch door frame that separated his balcony from his quarters.

These kids talk so loudly, he thinks, he could hear your entire exchange from up here. The yellow cast light from his bedroom fights with the dark to illuminate his figure carefully in the night, but he knows that you’re both still unable to see him from the ground angle. He feels slightly creepy, standing there in his satin dress shirt and work jeans. He pulls out his gun one more time, loosely, just to swing it. 

Feeling watched, you decide that you both shouldn’t be there any longer. Sehun’s teeth grind against each other eagerly for a taste other than his own metallic blood being drawn. Yawning, his mouth goes dry and his throat parches, longing for the feeling of smoke in his lungs.

Sehun knows he shouldn’t smoke around you. He doesn’t want to ruin your innocence, but he can’t help it. He wishes he had better self-control and restraint, but even so, you were clearly too much of a goody-two-shoes to care. “Drop dead Sehun, are you stupid? How’d he get a gun in this old town? Those are so hard to even-”

“Everybody knows they’re prohibited, doll. It must be ‘cause he’s a veteran, the govs decide that they don’t need to necessarily establish regulations with them,” Sehun glances up back at the house. You know he’s just said a bunch of nonsense.

“Somethin’ like that,” he continues. “Like it’s any work.” He almost scoffs, reaching into his pocket upon instinct. He doesn’t notice, but you’re intently watching. 

You follow his hands well, when he rubs the nape of his neck and pulls out a Marlboro from his tattered satchel. Same satchel that’s been long worn with dirt and grease but vacant of textbooks, pencils, or really a real use, ever since the start of freshman year in college. Sehun still stands that it serves purpose in his mail business. 

He shuts his eyes tight as he lights it between his lips, drawing out the smoke for as long as he can. It blows away in the wind, but you scrunch your nose, in the contingency it dissolves in your nostrils.

You pressed Sehun for more: “Don’t you care that Mr. Park’s gonna smell the smoke? His window’s open and he could still be on his balcony for all we know,” you advise him, worried. “And what’s Mr. Park doing with a gun at this hour, anyway? You could see it from the ground? Should we rat him out?”

Sehun shrugs, not letting on much. 

The smoke ignites something in you, you think. “Sehun, answer me! Isn’t this technically trespassing? Shouldn’t we leave now? All that stuff you said about Mr. Park’s makin’ me nervous.”

He finally feels free and empty of apprehension when he lets go of the cigar, balanced between his lips. He feels powerful. But before he can halt the smile that plays at the curve of his mouth, he chuckles a dry, derisive laugh laced with smoke. “Just decided to be nice this week and stop skippin’ his address on the newspaper list for once. Only trespassin’ if we go beyond his door, these front gates bind nothing,” Sehun smirks. “You should know that by now.”

Thin to a whisper, you display a frown. “I don’t hop as many fences as you. Who knows what else this Park guy has, he’s the real deal, gat and all. You should know that before you do anything else, you fool.”

But he grins right back, and he grins wide. “I should? How touché.” 

When he proves satisfied with the gasper, Sehun withdraws the smoke from between his lips and thrusts it toward the grass. It doesn’t burn the damp grass, barely at all. Just tucks itself neatly in a pile of dandelions, the tarnished flame still warmer than the muted yellows surrounding it.

Quickly, almost lunging himself off, Sehun hoists his body up from the iron gate and firmly turns his heel on the cigar, smiling. 

 And when he lifts up his shoe, even under the dim haze of the moon, you can see that the mud has been imprinted deep into the design on the sole of his shoe and the weeds have been stomped flat, butt of the cigar crushed. He finally lifts his eyes to converge with yours and he deadpans, “You know, you’re gonna want a smoke one day, too,” pausing. “Finally want one, doll?”

Doesn’t Sehun know how to properly take care of a girl?

His hand lazed onto your shoulder leaning on the gate post, your eyes glued to the dirt. He wants you to look up, but his gaze is the only thing holding you down. You can’t break free from his glare, lidded and dazed. 

Last night’s rain drips down the manor’s primary parapet beam. A premonition?

“I don’t need more mess in my life right now.” You hadn’t intended for it to come out so harsh and raspy, but Sehun didn’t pay much attention to it.. “Your parents are too pliant, Sehun.”

Mr. Park sighs a breath of relief. You can take care of yourself. He runs a stiff, left hand through his hair. He wouldn’t have to think about Sehun taking advantage of your company. He quietly hums an incisive tune, like a victory sequence. 

“Give it a try. I know your momma doesn’t like me so much anymore, thinkin’ we’re doin-this and doin-that. You don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to, alright?” He reassures you, something you’re grateful for. “I’m just saying, you can’t be such a high-pillow all the time and expect fun. Even if we landed in jail, my dad’d let us out,” Sehun tilts his head down to hide his smile under his breath, giddy.

“I’m not a high-pillow! Can’t we just go to the next address now?”

Ignoring your question, he’s totally replaying the scene over and over in his head. In his pocket, Sehun crosses his middle over his index. He did not like the feeling of mild defeat. At a weak attempt to cure his frustration, his hand rubs at his forehead. Instead, he’s inundated by the dewy sweat collecting at his brow. How could I let Chanyeol scare me off like that? 

You change the subject. Softer, quieter, your voice barely cuts through the air. “Sehun?” Your voice seems to awaken him a bit. Quickly, he mutters underneath his breath, “huh? What?” His mouth parts uncomfortably, small drops of rain collecting on his bottom lip and cupid's bow. 

“You look like tonight’s over. We can walk home now, you’re very pale.”

Sehun responds, an equally modest, “I’m okay.” Insisting, “let’s hang out a little longer,” pausing to offer a smile. “Gumshoe.”

A smile peels your lip open. “Oh yeah?”

Acquiescently, he smiles. “Oh yeah.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Sehun winces. “Not yet. Don’t bleed anything against me, ‘kay detective?”

Sehun steadies himself against the tall iron fence again, and it hits him like cold deja vu against his spine. The metal presses deeper into the valleys of his back this time like a knife, but still, he doesn’t move. Instead, he lets it cave against his skin even more, jutting through the fabric of his dress shirt. He takes another look at the smothered cigarette hidden in the grass and laughs a hearty laugh. All he smells is ash and wet dew.

And then, rather obscenely, it comes crashing down on him like dead weight. 

“You know, Chanyeol pulled the gun on me first, looking down on me from that balcony. Then tauntingly, he pointed it back toward himself. What would you do?” Sehun says honestly, turning to face you.

“His blown out eyes wide, but completely still. I’m so pissed that I was scared. Fuckin’ embarrassin’.” he grumbles, matter of factly, a frown thin between his lips as if he’s proven his own point wrong.

“Chanyeol?”

Fuck! “Oh, yeah. That’s his first name. Chanyeol. It means ‘loser’ in the ‘i-can’t-get-any-girls’ language.”

Chanyeol quirks a brow, leaning onto the side railing, still hidden. 

You can’t help but snort. “And why would he do such a thing? Was his tongue stickin’ out too?”

It’s hard to tell where the fabrication starts, but with a pat to your head and a hum in validation, Sehun opens his mouth to protest. “What makes you think he wouldn’t? He’s the town freak.”

Shrugging, you scan the line of trees enveloping the path down the hill. “No, I mean that he was makin’ fun of you with that face.”

 “Sure,” he nods. “But you cannot twist the truth, and the truth is all I’ve been telling you. Don’t you see? That’s creepy, he was pointing the rod at himself. I didn’t want to be responsible in case he actually pulled it, so I left, but now I know that he has no limits. He was ready to die, [Y/N]. This guy’s got no girls, and he’s creepy. You should stay away from him.”

Sehun’s story is like a leaky faucet. It holds enough truth to be believable, but somewhere in the piping, it doesn’t go over well with you. But you believe him. 

Your mind becomes numb and somber for a moment, but the feeling is botched. As if the anesthesiologist didn’t know better, unable to properly administer the drug, and you could still recall Sehun’s words in your head. They lay heavy on your heart, yet you’re not prosaically thinking into the consequences, at all.

Maybe Mr. Park wasn’t as insane as the town recalled him to be. Sehun suddenly speaks. “What a crumb, huh? I don’t think that man’s has mercy on anyone, not even himself.” 

An epiphany makes you feel sick, like a bully. Kids swirl baseless rumors around him. “What are you implying? That he’s lonely and lonely people are crazy?”

“I mean, yeah. He’s a vet, after all. What’s surprising?”

“Listen, you - I mean, Mr. Park, he-he doesn’t have the motive. Stop giving him motives. Rumors say he studied business after his discharge from the draft. That manor of his is built on years of liquified assets, why would he put it all on the line?”

Mr. Park stifles a laugh. You’re defending him. 

Sehun shuts his eyes to think, and for a second you think he’s going to reach into his bag for another cigar, but you think he’s really thinking this time. Sehun definitely knows he is; maybe it’s the lingering tobacco in his throat, maybe it’s the aftershock of what he just said, but he’s really thinking, fitfully. “I - I don’t know, [Y/N]. Maybe he deserves it, for all the people he’s killed.”

A flicker of candlelight moves in your peripheral vision. You nervously glance up at the manor’s ridiculously high arch windows, and wince in horror as the orange glow casted on the balcony shifts. It’s dimmer this time, because there is quite clearly someone blocking the light.

 And the silver alloy shotgun in their grasp gleams under the lunar projection, very, very jeeringly. 

They stand there, eerily forlorn. Lacking real tone or emotion, barren. A machiavellian with a .357 in the limelight pointed dejectedly at the ground. The candlelight behind the figure filters around the silhouette like a stencil on a black canvas, a ghastly spectacle.

And as his arm rises, gun following your bodies, a ghastly spectacle, indeed. It’s hard to tell who he’s aiming at because of the distance. 

The only thing more daunting than the sight itself was the sound of silence. Sehun mutters a curse beneath his breath, beginning to crouch next to you on the dirt. You feel his hands lightly traipse your torso, yearning for your palms in the dark. He first finds your thumb, tender on your clavicle. Then your index, playing with your blouse cloth. You’re glad he doesn’t feel your heartbeat above all, otherwise he would have felt the throb of fear and the mop of tangled love strings evident in the moment. 

Instead, he squeezes your palms together and intertwines your fingers on a whim. Sweaty and scared, they mangle like ropes. He doesn’t know what he’s doing at first, but it was the only way he knew how to provide enough ease for the both of you. It always offers him a little warmth; besides, you were both in danger.

You shudder. “The cover here isn’t good enough,” you whisper. “I bet he’s been listening in on us, Sehun. You see his gat?” Your teeth are chattering now, despite the cooling atmosphere.

“I don’t know what your mama tells you dolly, but now ... we fucking run.” He wants to tighten his grip on his hands on you further and take off like that, but he knows your nature and psyche too well to do that. 

Your chattering halts, “He’s going to see us. And shoot us.” Suddenly apathetic, Sehun finally muses, “Alright. Let’s stay here until that husk of a man leaves.” He exhales, blowing the strands of black hair from his eyes, “promise.” 

Sehun was never very good with promises, and you realize that too late. The fingers caught in yours are already replaced with air and are instead wrapped around your wrist. He juts out his hip, and rises to his full stand. He’s very tall. “Sorry doll. Lied.”

Your stomach sinks. “What are you, a puppy? Do I have to pick you up myself?” He’s towering over you, height teetering past the gate that separated Mr. Park’s property from the town’s. “Sehun, get down, there’s going to be a metal shell in your head anytime now!” With a swift kick to your knee, he pulls you up from the dirt before you can even feel the jolt against your joints, and runs against the wind with you.

[leechmilf]

Crimson snow

⇢Low Honor! Arthur Morgan x F! reader

CW: injuries, swearing, violence, suggestive themes I guess?

---

Click.

Another click.

The pistol wailed at the forfeit of it's ammo, the sound echoing in the room. Indicating the bearer is more vulnerable every second. The ruffian, supposedly collecting debts, was trapped. Inhaling the cold zephyr like the other men in the building.

Trapped. Like an animal. By the bounty hunters.

"How does it feel now, Mr. Morgan? How does it feel to be the one losing, hm?" One of the men, dressed in a red and black suit, circled him. Revolver holsted. Why do it himself, when he has his men wrapped around his finger?

"I ain't losing. Now face me like a real man, will ya?" Arthur holsted his pistol, instead taking out his skull engraved knife and getting into a defensive position, silently noting the column close to him. The bounty hunter rised his hand, giving his subordinates a sign to lower their weapons. "Feeling lucky today, Morgan?" He took out his own weapon.

Arthur waited for the first slash, giving the other man space. After a few seconds, it finally came, blocking it with his arm he closed the space between them. His free hand snatched the gold coated gun on the mans hip, using the momentum to bash his opponents head.

Thanking whoever gave him luck for the shock he caused, he quickly hid behind the column. Rolling out the revolver, it was full. He really was lucky today, huh.

He headshoted all of the men who were unfortunate enough to stick out their head at the wrong time. But of course, the revolver isn't magical. Tossing it on the floor, he counted the remaining opponets. 3. Time to take it up close and personal.

One of the men was up on the stairway, gun ready. If he tried to make it personal now, he would be dead in a matter of second.

Throwing knives. He rummaged through his satchel, finding one.

Holding the knife he peeked out of the other side of the column, aimed at the man and threw the knife, hoping for the best as he was still new to them.

The knife pierced the mans skull, making him roll his eyes to the back of his head as he dropped his gun. Arthur let ouf a sigh of relief as he watched the other two men, taking out his knife.

He ran out of his hiding spot to the man closest to him, the bounty hunters gaze was glued to his friends corpse rolling down the stairs. Arthur used this to his advantage as he took him from behind, and slashed his neck. Letting the man fall on the floor, he shifted his gaze to his last victim.

"Now what to do with you?"

He walked closer to the man, knowing he has the upper hand. He grabbed his chemise and lifted him to his feet. "You like livin'?" Arthur smiled.

That's where his luck decided to leave him.

Arthur felt harsh, piercing pain in his lower abdomen. He let the man go when he saw a pocket knife sticking out his muscled body. His dark blue coat staining with red as he grunted in pain. It has been a long while since he had his own blood coating his body, but he knew his luck had to run out at some point.

He knew he couldn't take it out now, as it would only make the bleeding stronger, instead he closed his hand around the knife to hold it in place. He looked at the cowering man at his feet, as his teeth gritted in agony.

"You have a death wish don't you.." he growled through his teeth. The outlaw rised his knee, kicking the bounty hunter in his jaw. He cried out in pain, begging for his life even, but Arthur didn't have any of that as he delivered another hard stomp to his stomach.

"Fuck.." Arthur grumbled as he watched the man bleed out, himself included. There has to be a first aid kit somewhere..

Scrambling around the house, he found nothing, just some booze and a few cigars. The sound of horse hooves interrupted him from his search. He crouched to the window. More bounty hunters. He growled under his breath as he looked around. Back doors.

---

The calming sound of wood crackling filled the snowy cabin. The flames devouring the timber making it crumble in the comfiness of the fireplace. Smell of a freshly brewed stew present too.

A woman, humming a melody, took out a spoon from the drawers and tried out the stew, making sure it had the right amount of seasoning. Feeling pleased, she took out a ladle and a bowl. Pouring herself the meal.

She sat at the table, enjoying some well deserved food. Living in the mountains wasn't easy, so when she found a rabbit in one of her traps this morning, she was more than pleased. After she finished off the last bits, she washed the bowl.

Sighing, she looked out of her window. It was dark outside, a snowstorm coming up. It made her think of how life could have been, if her parents haven't tried to make her marry a man she hardly knew, that's also the reason she's up here.

Resting her head on her palms, she rubbed her face in disgust from what could have been, if she hadn't ran away, she would be bearing the mans children and maybe even worse. She closed her eyes, trying to think of something nicer.

Suddenly, the wooden door of her cabin gave a loud creak, making her head turn in shock. She saw a man. A man at the brink of his death, leaving a crimson trail up her doorstep. They locked eyes, he said;

"Come here, and don't do anything stupid." The woman nodded, noting the weapons holsted on his hip, making her gulp as she rised her hands. "Good girl.." The man harsly turned her around the second she was in his arm's reach. Unsheatling his knife, he held it to her throat with his other hand holding her.

"Do you own any medical supplies?" his body felt cold on hers as she nodded slowly.

"Where?" she poined to a wooden cabinet, "Fucking hell.." he whimpered, the fatigue present in his voice. He beckoned her to walk to the cabinet. "Open it." he ordered, the woman opened the cabinet with trembling hands, taking out the first aid kit.

"Good, now do me a favour and don't do anything you'll regret." he said as he took the box from her hands, limping to the dining table.

The woman couldn't help but admire his broad shoulders.

He sat down with a groan as he opened the first aid kit. His brows furrowed.

"What's your name?" he asked. "It's Y/n L/n, Mr.." She said casually, not wanting to anger him anymore. "Well Y/n, best you don't know my name. But I'm gonna need you to pull this outta me." You raised your brows in confusion. He only sighed in annoyance as he removed his coat, a black vest stained dark and a white dress shirt underneath with knife poking out of his abdomen was exposed to you.

You let out a shuddering breath with an 'okay' as you walked closer to him. You gripped the handle of the knife, looking into his eyes he gave you a slight nod as he tried to control his breathing. You yanked it out of his body as he groaned in pain. Tossing the knife to the side quickly, you pressed on the wound, making him grit his teeth together.

You knelt in front of him, "If you want me to help, you'll need to strip out of your top, this is gonna need stitching." he growled as he started to pop the buttons of his black vest. Sliding it off his arms he did the same with his dress shirt, but this time peeling it off his wound with a whimper.

"Do your magic, woman." he sighed as he placed his hat on the table.

---

How much does this man weight?

I dragged him to my bed, in effort of trying to make him more comfortable. He passed out a few moments after he removed his clothes, at my own mercy. His wound is all cleaned and dressed now, ready to heal.

I covered him with the comforter, I removed his clothes to let them dry up until the morning, hoping he wouldn't wake up until then. But I do have to say, he's a rather handsome man, the years of hand work present on his body. I thought as I softly slid my hand across his well built chest.

I sighed, tired myself. He looked rather peaceful, not reminiscent to the male I first saw at my doorstep.

I took one of my spare blankets and laid down close to the fireplace, obeserving the man's peaceful face, noticing his scars in the process. I sighed contently as I closed my eyes, waiting for what the morning will bring.

---

Someone's staring at me.

I shifted in my bed, feeling a strong presence behind me, not wanting to open my eyes just yet.

"I know you're awake." A deep voice behind said in amusement. I opened my eyes far too quickly, looking around me. I was in my bed, but I fell asleep next to the fireplace? I turned around, there, next to me, was the man from yesterday laying on his side, looking quite content with a smirk on his face.

"Well good morning, doe. Quite the spirit to have an unknown man in your bed." He laughed. "You do realise what I could do to you.." He said with a more serious tone as he grabbed my chin.

"Uh, I only put you on my bed to make you more comfortable, plus I don't think you would appreciate it if I left you to sleep on the chair, mister" I said, embarassed.

He put on his pants at this point. Thanks God.. He left my chin as he sat up, "Well, look outside the window. You won't be pleased, doe." He smirked even more. I did as he said, there was a harsh snowstorm going on.

"Guess I'll have to stay longer, huh."

Smug bastard.

[mochie85]

Just Breathe - Chapter 3

Just Breathe Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Zephyr just wanted to be left alone. That's how she's been her whole life. Abandoned, unwanted, and angry. Oh so angry. While taking her revenge on the people who have wronged her, she gets caught by the Avengers and is given the opportunity to either work with them or be kept prisoner by them. Pairing: Loki x Female Villain(~ish) Reader Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Angst, history of trauma, some cursing, torture, captivity. A/N: This one is dark y'all. I haven't written in a while because, between this and the TH&TH series I'm writing, it took me in a whole depressive turn. But I hope you enjoy it. Edit: A big thanks to Inkywinds on AO3 for the German translations.

"You make me come. You make me complete. You make me completely miserable."

The next couple of moments were a blur. They happened so fast that anyone you asked would’ve had a different version of what transpired.

“Zee. Please. You need to calm down!” Loki tried to pacify you.

“If you tell me to calm down one more time, I swear to your gods I will blow up this whole building!” You took in a lungful of air and blew it against Loki pushing him up against the wall. The attack caused alarm in the people watching from outside.

Bucky opened the door trying to get in but the gale force winds were too strong for him to push the door open. You stopped when you need to catch your breath. Loki took this opportunity to transport himself behind you and cover your mouth with one hand and wrap your arms tight into yourself with the other.

Bucky took this as a sign to finally enter. Sam followed suit, “Are you ok, man?” Sam asked Loki. Loki simply nodded his head.

“Get Rogers down here now!” He commanded Sam.

When you saw Bucky approach, you started screaming in Loki’s hand. You moved and squirmed trying your hardest to get out of his grasp. You didn’t know what you were going to do. Get your well-deserved revenge and attack him? Or, run away, scared that he was going to hurt you again the way he did so many years ago.

The closer he got, the more hysterical you seemed to get. Loki noticed. “Barnes, I suggest you leave the room this instant. Unless you’d like your funeral pyre where you stand?” Bucky was confused but started backing away slowly. As soon as he left your sight, you broke down crying in fits.

“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth slowly, darling. Please don’t hurt me.” Loki eased his hand off your lips. His fingers were wet from your screams and tears.

“Why did you let him go?! Why did you restrain me?” you yelled at Loki. You squirmed in his arms. He still had not let you go. “Let me go! Let me find him!”

“And do what, Zee? What is going on? Now I know I’m not your favorite person…” you growled. “…But I’m the only one willing to help you here. Especially since you’ve isolated yourself from everybody else! So you either tell me what’s going on or you go back to the cell downstairs for everybody’s safety!”

“You’re just as bad as he is!” you growled to him. You turned in his embrace to face him and started beating at his chest. Tired and shaky. Crying and exhausted, you fell limp in his arms. Loki caught your body and picked you up, placing you back on the gurney.

You wailed, loudly. You turned over to the other side, your back towards Loki, not wanting to face him.

Loki started in a soft voice, “Darling, I…”

“Beg. You wanted me to beg. To see in my mind. To know what happened. OK then. Do it! See what happened. See why I hate him so much!” You gritted between your teeth.

Loki found himself inside a padded room. It smelled of urine and vomit. He looked around, noting the small dimensions, and the dim light suspended from the ceiling. He heard small grunts and punches from behind him and turned.

He saw you crying with your hands up to defend yourself from an attacker. “Pick her up!” He said. Then Barnes stepped into the picture.

But it wasn’t Barnes. It was The Winter Soldier.

He held you up by your throat with his left metallic arm. As if you were nothing more than a ragdoll. They had gagged you so you couldn’t breathe out. There was an oxygen tank in the corner with a mask ready in case you decided to stop breathing. By the looks of the blood and snot on the mask, they’ve used it on you several times already.

“So, my little kleiner lufthauch. For every mile you seized while you ran away, The Winter Soldier here will beat it out of you.” You screamed harder. Barn’s metal arms held onto you tighter. “Maybe then you’ll reconsider before you try to escape again.”

The last images Loki saw were Barnes’s dead eyes focused on forming his fist as he raised them to your screaming figure below.

Loki was furious.

The suffering you had to endure while you were captive under HYDRA was appalling and inexcusable. Just then, Rogers walked in with Barnes and Wilson trailing behind him. Loki turned and grabbed Barnes by the throat. Just like he saw in your memories.

At once, the Captain and Wilson were on high alert. They got in their defensive positions and tried to stop Loki.

“What are you doing?!” Rogers said trying to grab Loki’s outstretched arm.

“He. Hurt. Her!” Loki growled with each syllable.

“Loki let him go!” Wilson yelled, trying to get through to his reasonable side. “You know Bucky! He would never do that!”

“Bucky won’t. But the Winter Soldier has!” Loki answered. Bucky’s metal arm grabbed Loki’s wrist. Squeezing, hoping to get him to loosen up.

Roger’s turned towards you. “Is this true, Zee? Was Bucky there when you were captured by HYDRA?”

You turned your head towards Steve. Your eyes were watery and red. You silently nodded your head and turned back to watch the scene unfold.

Loki attacked your abuser for you. Without question. Without hesitation. No one had ever defended you before. No one had ever fought for you before. You were always left to fend for yourself.

“Mark my words, Roger’s if he goes anywhere near her, I will bring forth a hell you’ve only ever read about in books.” Loki let go of his tight grip on Bucky’s throat. He turned towards you. His eyes were dark and his jaw tightened. “Come,” was all he said as he held out his arms, blocking the sight of Bucky behind him. He pointed towards the door, ushering you out. “You are not to stay here a moment longer.”

You slowly got up from the gurney and made your way towards the exit. Loki was dutifully blocking your view of the metal soldier behind him.

“Wait!” Bucky yelled out. Loki quickly turned to stop him. Bucky backed away, his hands in the air. “Look. I-I just wanted to say…I’m sorry. I don’t remember much from back then. I try to forget.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” You said behind Loki.

“I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James ‘Bucky’ Barnes and…if you’ll allow me to…to make you a part of my efforts…to make amends.” A short silence hung in the air. Everyone was looking at Bucky. But bucky was only looking at you.

“Two broken legs. A broken jaw. Two ribcage fractures. A dislocated shoulder. Mental and emotional trauma to last five lifetimes.” You listed off softly. “My bones have already healed. My trauma has made me stronger. There is nothing, NOTHING, left for you to make amends with soldier.” Then you walked off, resisting the urge to run, towards your room.

Loki followed quietly behind you making sure Barnes or the other soldiers didn’t harass you. As you opened your door, you paused at the threshold. “You can come in if you’d like.” You pushed the door wider and left to go to your closet.

You heard him step in and close the door behind him as you grabbed the few items of clothing and secret weapons that you were hoarding. You set them on the floor by your bed, as you reached for your duffel bag underneath it.

“Huh. I always wondered where the missing blades went.” Loki said watching you from the door. “If you don’t feel safe, I can keep watch for you. You don’t have to run away.” He offered.

You stopped packing and looked at him. “You’d do that? Stay here all night? While I slept? What would make you think I would trust you?” You couldn’t help the snark that came out with that last question. You didn’t mean to offend. You were just shocked and curious.

“Would you feel better if I stayed outside then?” Loki said pointing to your door. You got up from the floor and walked over to him.

“No one has ever tried to make me feel safe. Secure me. Detain me. Lock me up and use me. Why? Why would you be any different?”

“Let’s just say…that our pasts are quite similar, in some regards.” You got closer to him, walking slowly. He watched you warily. “I feel a sort of kinship with you if I’m being honest.”

You reached your hand up to caress his cheek and he winced and backed away. You froze at his reaction. “Sorry, darling, but the last time you tried to kiss me, you stole my breath away. Quite literally.” You both chuckled. “So you can see why I’m a little hesitant to let you so close.”

“I’ve been nothing but vile and angry towards you. I’ve hurt you so many times and in so many different ways. I won’t apologize for the way I am.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“But I can promise that I’ll work on it.” You whispered to your left, not really looking into his eyes.

Loki groaned internally at your words. You looked so innocent and meek. The complete opposite of the narcissistic know-it-all who always had to have the last word. No trace of the wild-wind spirit that upended his life.

His jaw tightened as he started to stifle the electricity jolting through his body. He couldn’t help but be attracted to you even more. You! The one who caught his attention the moment you walked into the building with handcuffs and armed escorts. The only one who can, not only resist his charms but serve them back to him as well. The only one who can best him in combat and make him stop breathing altogether.

“You are insufferable!” Loki said in a steady voice. Not wanting to cause you to panic. “You’re arrogant and demanding. You make me completely miserable!” He said. Each word makes you slightly wince inside.

“But you still come anyway.” You countered.

“Yes. Because I’m arrogant enough to think that I can help you. We insufferable lot need to stick together. Lest we become one of them.” Loki pointed out to the hallways, referencing the other heroes in the building.

You smiled at that. Just earlier, you scoffed at him in the gym for lumping you two together. Saying that you were Avengers and that you needed to stick together. You hated that idea. But now, being lumped with him is not so bad.

“I can’t stay here, Loki.” You looked up into his eyes. “I can’t stay knowing that he’s in the same building as I am. I’ve spent my entire freedom hunting down those who wronged me and getting revenge for what they’ve done. He would’ve been the last one. And now, I come to find out that he’s being protected by Earth’s mightiest heroes!?

“I give up. I’m tired. I just…want to go away and never have to think of this place or these people ever again. This was only a means to an end. You know I wasn’t going to stay here.” You finished.

“All right.” He said pacifying you, rubbing his hands up your arm. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are!” You yelled. Your rejection stung him. “Loki, I will not have you risk your immunity over this. This is my fight. It’s mine to give up. So, I will.”

“Darling, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. Frankly, if you leave, it wouldn’t be as much fun.”

“Loki. Stay.” You said shaking your head. You went back to your duffel and continued to pack. “This won’t be fun. This isn’t some type of vacation I’m packing for. This will be me trying to make ends meet. Trying not to get caught by both HYDRA and now SHIELD. You would get sick of this life.”

“And how would you know what’s best for me? What would you know of my life!?”

“Because I don’t want this life for myself! I wouldn’t wish this on anyone!” you yelled back. “Don’t make me incapacitate you again, Loki.”

“I’m going with you! And that’s final.” He ordered. Just then, you took a large intake of breath and blew it in his direction. Loki anticipated your attack and put up a barrier, enclosing you inside. The wind you created blew around you mercilessly and tore through your hair. Your clothes holding on tight against your skin as they were blown in every direction. All of it, encapsulated in his barrier.

When your lungs were depleted of air, the wind stopped. Heat rose, but quickly dissipated as you started to breathe normally again.

Loki took down his shield. “Are you done with your tantrum? Good. Let’s go.” With that, he twirled his hands, making your duffel disappear. He opened your door and ushered you outside towards the elevators. Towards your freedom. Towards your new life.

You stood at the doors of the elevator, waiting for it to open. “You don’t trust me do you?” you asked Loki, breaking the silence. “You anticipated my attack.”

“No, I don’t trust you. Not completely. Yes, I did anticipate your attack. You’re getting rather predictable.” He sneered at you.

You rolled your eyes back at him. The bell chimed and the doors of the elevator opened to two people on the lift.

“Zee?!” said the familiar voice in front of you.

⬅️Chapter 2 | Chapter 4➡️

Taglist: @alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @britishserpent @huntress-artemiss @mischief2sarawr @user13cabs @one-oblivious-nerd @crimson25 @nopenottodayson @el-zef @immersed-in-mischief @lokiprompts21 @lokiprompts @lokisninerealms @lokisgoodgirl @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane @lucylaufeyson3 @loopsisloops @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vbecker10 @michelleleewise @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @salempoe @xwhiteoleanderx @theaudacitytowrite @ficitve-sl0th @goldencherriess @ozymdias

[captainsophiestark]

The Framework’s Silver Lining

Daisy Johnson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested on Wattpad!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: When Daisy woke up in the Framework, she found her longtime best friend in the real world, Y/N, laying next to her. When she finally gets out of the Framework and is reunited with Y/N, she can't help feeling a little weird around the person she cares most about in the world.

Word Count: 1,756

Category: Angst (not a whole lot), Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I paced back in forth in front of the tables on the Zephyr where our friends were laid out, my best friend Daisy Johnson among them. I knew I was driving Yo-Yo absolutely insane, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was just too stressed.

She'd disappeared into the Framework what felt like forever ago, trying to get the rest of our friends the hell out of there. Life as a SHIELD agent was never easy or completely safe, but usually I could do more than just stand by and wait, completely helpless.

"Damnit, I should've gone in with her!" I finally yelled. Yo-Yo took in and then let out a long, heavy breath.

"Listen, Y/N, I know how you feel. You think I don't wanna be in there with Mack right now?" She put her hands on her hips as she stared me down. "But they need us out here. To keep them safe, and to keep the world from falling apart while they're in that horrible programmed fever dream."

I huffed, but I knew she was right. We just had to be patient, and-

"Fuck!"

I couldn't help swearing as the plane shunted to the side. I barely managed to catch myself on the edge of Daisy's table.

"What was that?" Yo-Yo demanded.

"I don't know, but I'm about to go find out."

I stormed past our handful of other agents and into the cockpit of the plane, quickly sliding into the pilot seat. Someone had finally found us, despite how hard we'd worked to hide, and now they were trying to shoot us out of the sky.

Fortunately for everyone on this plane, I wasn't going to let them.

I quickly took over the controls and maneuvered through the clouds, trying to lose the jet on our tail. I had to be at least a little careful not to jostle Daisy or Simmons too much, but at the end of the day, it was more important that we didn't get shot out of the sky.

I grit my teeth as I tried to pull up as quickly as possible. Most of our power was going to keeping Daisy and Simmons alive and in the Framework, which meant I had no weapons and almost no maneuverability OR visibility.

Shit.

I did my best to lose the person on our tail, but I wasn't at it for long before we took another hit. I tried to stay focused, but that focus immediately shattered as I heard a familiar voice shouting as none other than Daisy Johnson stormed into the room.

I whirled around and quickly looked her up and down for any sign of injury. She definitely looked beat up, but no more than when she'd gone into the Framework in the first place. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks, then returned my focus to keeping us all from getting killed.

Daisy, Yo-Yo, and Simmons rushed off to try to restore power to the plane, meaning weapons, radar, and better maneuvering, but I stayed focused on the issue in front of me. After a few tense minutes, we managed to get out of trouble. I let out a sigh of relief, then handed off the controls and made a beeline for Daisy.

"Hey, thank God you're okay," I said as soon as I saw her. I rushed towards her, throwing my arms around her as soon as she was in range. She tensed, and I immediately drew back. "You are okay, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, completely unconvincingly as she brushed me off and took a few steps back. "Just a little shaken, but not bad. I'm gonna do a few checks of the plane, see what we have to work with on our way in to the oil rig before we go save Coulson and crew."

"Oh... okay..."

She bustled off without a word, leaving me staring after her in shock. I knew my best friend well enough to know that that was not normal. Something was wrong, and even worse, she wasn't telling me about it.

We told each other everything.

I quickly debated with myself over what to do. We were headed into very deadly territory at the oil rig, and we all needed to be sharp. Sometimes, that meant not talking about things for a while, until we were safely on the other side. But I quickly decided that that was not the case today.

I touched base with Yo-Yo and Simmons to make sure they didn't need help holding down the fort, then found Daisy walking back from putting out a literal fire in the back of the plane. She gave me a smile that didn't reach her eyes when she saw me, then tried to push right past me. I grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"Daisy, can we talk for a second?" I asked.

"I need to get back up there to help Simmons-"

"I just checked with Simmons. She said we're good for a few minutes at least." Daisy still hesitated, and as I let go of her arm, she looked like she might just bolt. "Please?"

She huffed a sigh, then nodded. We walked a few feet away to the now-empty medbay, where I'd seen her and Simmons laying unconscious for so long. It didn't bring back the greatest of memories, but at least she was here now.

"So, what's up?" asked Daisy. She seemed to be working extra hard to seem calm, cool, and unbothered, like usual, but I could see through the facade. I took a deep breath and leaned against the nearest table.

"I guess... I just wanted to check in on you, you know?" I said. "You just... you've been acting really... off... since you got out of the Framework. I'm worried about you."

Daisy sighed, and when I looked up at her, I found her staring holes in the floor.

"You know me really well," she muttered. I couldn't help laughing a little as I reached forward and nudged her shoulder.

"Yeah, I do. Now spill."

She sighed heavily and ran a hand through her hair, then finally broke her staring contest with the floor. She was looking at anything in the room but me, but it still felt like progress.

"It's... dumb, but in the Framework, I woke up in bed in the morning with... uh, you. Apparently, Framework-you has been dating Framework-me for a long time. We were sleeper SHIELD agents at Hydra, and the plan was to save the world and get married. I guess it just... I don't know, it got to me a little bit."

I stood, completely frozen, rolling all the possible things I could say over my tongue. The silence stretched on, and I could see Daisy turning bright red. My heart hammered in my chest, but I forced myself to speak.

"Got to you in... a good way?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. "Or a... bad way?"

Finally, Daisy met my eyes. I held her stare, trying to keep my expression neutral. My heart raced in my chest, and Daisy knew me well enough that she could probably tell.

"...In a good way," she finally said. A smile spread across my face, and my heart picked up its pace even though that shouldn't have been possible.

"Does that mean...?" I cleared my throat, then forced myself to take a step closer to Daisy. She didn't move, but I swear her breathing sped up as I reached out and took her hand. "Does this mean that's a reality you might... want?"

She nodded slowly, holding my stare the entire time. She squeezed my hand tighter and continued to close the distance between us. I cautiously brought my other hand up to rest on her hip, then glanced down at her lips. She smiled, and I met her eyes again as I pulled her close to my chest.

"I can't believe something good's about to come out of the Framework," I breathed, a smile on my face to mirror Daisy's.

"After being in there and seeing what that world looked like... neither can I. But I'm pretty damn happy about it."

"Me too."

With that, I leaned further into her, and we closed the rest of the distance between us into a kiss. It started out soft and sweet, then deepened as we both got used to the fact we were kissing each other. Finally.

We broke apart to take a breath and share a smile, then I didn't waste a second before leaning back in. I wrapped my arms around Daisy's waist and hugged her tight to me, and she ran her hands over my shoulders. We started getting a little carried away when a cough from behind us snapped us out of our moment.

Reluctantly, Daisy and I pulled away from each other and turned to see Simmons standing and staring at us. She had a slight blush on her cheeks, but she also had a smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt this, especially since it's been a long time coming, but... we're almost there."

"It's alright Simmons," I said, speaking for both of us as I dropped one arm from Daisy's waist. I kept the other wrapped tightly around her and pulled her into my side. "We've got plenty of time ahead of us to spend together, however we want. And after we save the world, we can get started on it."

Daisy turned to me with a smile as bright as the sun on her face, and it made me absolutely melt. Simmons gracefully excused herself, giving us a moment before we dove back into the fray that came with being a SHIELD agent.

"So..." Daisy started. "Save the world first, huh?"

"Yup. Like we always do."

"And then?"

"And then whatever the hell we want. Together."

We shared a smile, and Daisy leaned in to give me one more quick kiss. Then, we headed back to join the others before going to save our teammates and the rest of the world with them, like we had a thousand times. This time, though, we were going to do it as a couple. We'd been unstoppable as best friends, and we were going to be even more unstoppable now.

Besides, the sooner we saved the world, the sooner we got to start the next amazing phase of our lives together. And I wasn't going to let anything get in our way.

[nightmyst14-blog]

CRK/CROB Valentine's Day HC 4-4

Final one!! Might as well get it done before the month is over, sorry it took so long.

As always, I'll be doing one Romantic, one Platonic, and Familial headcanons. I labeled them so no one can call me out for shipping children with adults (DISGUSTING).

Btw, these are all MY headcanons and thoughts. Don't leave any hate messages here if you don't like something.

Romantic- Wind Archer x Stardust

(I blame a fanfic for making me ship this, and I love it. Also, I like Zephyr of Life)

-Met at Galaxy Lake while Stardust decided to travel around Earthbread. Wind Archer thought he was a threat at first, but Stardust explained his story.

-Wind Archer gives Stardust a tour around the Millennial Forest, explaining the creatures and types of plants living here. Stardust is amazed by everything he sees.

-Secret meetings during the night, Wind Archer waiting for Stardust at the tallest tree in the forest

-Millennial Tree and Moonlight greatly approve of their relationship, the goddess of dreams happy that her brother has found someone to connect to.

-Not exactly used to nicknames, but Stardust likes to refer to Wind Archer "midday star' or " quiet yet gentle archer"

Platonic- Peppermint, Squid Ink, Mango, and Sorbet Shark

-Sea Squad!!

-All children of a legendary(besides Sorbet)

-Mango gives his friends free rides on his canoe, Sorbet pulls it along whenever Mango gets tired.

-Squid Ink keeps a trinket that reminds them of the other three. Peppermint: A blue seashell, Mango: a toucan plushie, and Sorbet: A pirate hat with teeth marks on it

Sorbet tells their friends pirate stories they were from Pirate and Captain Caviar. It sometimes spooks Squid a bit.

-Peppermint creates bubbles from their conch shell to cool off Squid and Sorbet on hot days while treasure hunting on islands.

Familial- Black Raisin, Espresso, Strawberry Crepe

-Spy x family dynamic

-Strawberry likes to be held when they're tired, so you'll find them either in the arms of Espresso or Black Raisin.

-Got to know each other once Espresso moved to the Vanilla Kingdom. Black Raisin was skeptical at first, but they noticed that Strawberry Crepe had taken a liking to them. Raisin got to know Espresso better, due to the good word Pure Vanilla put in.

-Espresso is Strawberry Crepe's magic goth dad and Black Raisin is their strong emo mother (platonic and/or romantic) Espresso and Crepe are working together to make Black Raisin a new arm. its going well.

-Both Strawberry Crepe and Espresso have bad sleeping habits. When Black Raisin finds one or both asleep (Espresso at his desk or Crepe near their wafflebots), she would put them to bed.

-Espresso and Strawberry Crepe stay up to see Black Raisin when she comes home from her patrols.

[ghouletteanon]

Mushy May: Day 3 - Post-show rituals

Day 3 of Mushy May! Prompt list can be found here, curated by the amazing @forlorn-crows.

Pairing: Mist x Zephyr

Summary: Mist has been assigned as Zephyr's hotel roommate as well as caretaker because Zephyr will not take care of his aching joints unless he gets bullied into doing it.

Word count: 743

Rating: T, non-sexual nudity

“Don’t make me get Ifrit,” Mist stares her bandmate down and watches the tall air ghoul fretting around their shared hotel room, unpacking his bag. They are staying in town for two nights, a rare treat on tour and Mist had been voluntold to share a room with Zephyr as someone needed to stay behind to make sure he took care of himself and Mist did not mind. She already had plans for the following night when she no longer had obligations. Besides, Aether had overextended himself and who, just like Zephyr, needed time to recover.

Something Zephyr was currently not doing.

Zephyr is ridiculously stubborn, but Mist could best him in a fight if it came down to it. She did not want to do it, but she would if she had no other way to get Zephyr where he needed to be. How Zephyr was still on his feet after playing an intense ritual was a mystery. He was still wearing his glamor, even as Mist had thrown her pendant on the side table as soon as the door closed behind them.

Time for the most powerful weapon Mist had in her arsenal that was not her sharp teeth or the spiny rays of her fins. “Or I’ll ask Mountain. He will be so disappointed in you that you’ll feel bad for the rest of the tour.”

Zephyr pauses, toiletry bag in hand. “I just need to…”

“Nuhhuh,” Mist interrupts him as she walks over and grabs the bag from his hands. She pulls the enchanted upside-down cross pendant from around his neck, forcing Zephyr to drop the glamor as well. He had fortunately enough taken off the stage clothes, or else the cassock would have torn at the seams as he shot up in height. The t-shirt that was loose on his human frame no longer covers his midriff, exposing the soft fur of his underbelly.

“Listen. You don’t need to do anything except get your unglamored ass to the bath, get your muscles all nice and relaxed and get your stretches in before you drink whatever witches brew Mountain made and get some rest. No buts or ifs allowed.”

“I will probably melt into a useless puddle once I’m in the bath,” Zephyr mutters but relents and puts his hands up in the air, letting Mist push him towards the bathroom.

Mist holds on to his waist, noticing how Zephyr’s gait was uneven as he tried to hide the pain in his joints. Terzo had been right, if Mist had not been here then Zephyr would have probably ignored it and only made it worse. “If you forgot something, tell me and I’ll bring it to you.”

“You don’t need to..” Zephyr begins but Mist ignores him again as she starts the bath, not bothering to mess with the temperature as she was just going to use her powers to adjust it. It was definitely a hot water type of night.

“I want to and I am doing this for the purely selfish reason that I also get a hot bath out of this. I haven’t had a proper soak in a while and my skin is getting flaky.” It's barely an excuse, as it's partially true. She really is in need for a soak, preferably soon. Mist runs her hand through the water, imbuing it with her power.

“You just want to cuddle with me,” Zephyr teases as he sits down on the toilet seat, stripping out of his clothes, starting with the shirt.

Mist does not need to see him to know he grimaces in pain as he pulls off his shorts. She helps him up from the seat, carefully maneuvering him to sit down in the tub before she also disrobes and sits down, leaning against Zephyr’s broad chest. The bath tub is small, but so is she and the two ghouls adjust until their limbs are placed as comfortably as they can in a limited space. “Lucifer forbid ghoulettes do anything.”

Zephyr kisses the crook of Mist's neck, and let's out a content purr. “Lucifer could not stop you from doing what you want, little rockfish.”

Mist reaches up and scratches the scraggly beard on Zephyr's chin. She thinks he should let her trim it. He's supposed to be an air ghoul, not a goat like Mountain. “I love you too, but please shut up and let me soak, you big airhead.”

[krsnaradhika]

Because my last piece of writing got a lot of love and this what I present you now, was written an year ago and I do think my present writing (at least in Krishavyayam) is slightly better than this.

I'll be posting the hyperlink of this too in my intro post, because I realised it'd be tedious to scroll all the way to Vaikuntha. The other three writings (Lakshmis come home, Yamuna x Kanha, Rukmini - Satyabhama) have their hyperlinks already updated there. Alright I ramble a lot don't I-

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

SatyabhaMadhavam

He was brawn, his biceps clasping his foe betwixt them as he thrashed him to the ground in a trice. His knuckles morphed white, blue-black curls which donned an iridescent peacock feather all the time bellowed at his outrage and danced upon his shoulders. His warm hazel eyes, which were oceans of compassion blazed like the dancing flames of fire, rage filling him at the mere sight of his imprisoned parents, at them from whom he had to part right after his birth.

A nine year old Satyabhama witnessed in awe, the glory of the son of Devaki, of whom she had harkened limitless narratives of. Of his bravery, his extraordinary strength and prowess at slaying demons which his own maternal uncle sent for the sole purpose of killing him right from his very first day in the world. The eleven and a half year old boy afore her chocolate eyes wasn't the cowherd of Vrindāvana, he was the Kāla of Kamsa and his tyranny at Mathurā. Vraja leela had come to a cease, and this was the commencement of his Mathura leela.

Gritting in his teeth, the immoral son of Ugrasena jumped to his feet and pounced upon his sororal nephew, desiring to push him to the ground with all his vitality, but to no avail. Satyabhama's Madhava stood like a bull among men, his feet on the ground as firm as his character and resolution. He was to be known as Yogeshvara after all, a title bestowed to him which made him the lord of yogis. Krishna was Leela Purushottama, the best among men.

"If you lose, my lovely nephew, then you die. And if I do, your guile parents and vicious grandfather will be pushed in the mouth of death, Krishna!" Kamsa sneered, reminding him the rules of this duel and casted a spontaneous glance on the executioners. "I'll kill you." every syllable he uttered dripped acid, his eyes now bloodshot.

"We shall see that, dearest uncle." Kanha scoffed, his eyes a swirling melange of his fury and the agony that sprang in him at the sight of his children who cried 'Trahi! Trahi!' over the years. Ugrasena, Devaki and Vasudeva, raised their palms in abhaya mudra, blessing the lord who bowed his head subtly, assuring them with a sempiternal seraphic smile. The shackled royals stood at a dais, awaiting to be guillotined the moment their Kanha would dispatch his vicious uncle to the afterlife.

Kamsa marred his face with a sickly scowl, growling as his nephew dodged his blow and twisted his arm, hauling him to the demesne once again. Krishna's clenched jaw twitched a muscle, the grim look on his face speaking of his ability of creation and destruction, his fierce form which the universe seldom witnessed.

Clasping her father's angavastram in her dainty fingers, Satyabhama concealed herself behind him, feeling her heart thump at the sight of a howling Kamsa as her curious eyes remained rooted to Kanha. Her eyes met his for a split second, and the daughter of Satrajita was swayed off her feet. She found in his eyes, a zephyr of his pure love kissing her heart. She knew that Bhudevi would forever belong to her Varahadeva, this form or the other. Much like how Hara-Gauri and Medha-Brahma belonged to each other alone - from the beginning of time, now and for the rest of eternity too.

'When have we ever parted, Bhamae?' he teased and she almost facepalmed at his mischief.

'Even at this time, hey Naatha?' The mystical curl of her lips and the scarlet of her cheeks were enough to amuse and confuse the merchant of Dvaraka, her father Satrajita at the same time as he failed to notice the warm and similar aureole the two kids radiated, being the parents of the universe.

'Never ever, my lord.' the corner of her lips tugged up, her chest swelled up in pride as she faced the duel arena once again. Her vaatsalya dripping doe eyes softened as she took in the form of a thoroughly exhausted Kamsa, catching his breath as he glared daggers at her lord. 'Convey Jaya back to our home in Vaikuntha. It is time.'

With a final groan, the manifestation of MahaVishnu pounced upon his maternal uncle, sending him flying back. A last, harsh blow of a fist and Kamsa breathed his last, his eyes rolling to the back as he was freed from his sinister body. Waiting with bated breaths, some adored Keshava while some loathed, some were left dumbstruck while others seemed pained.

A triumphant outcry erupted in the arena and Satyabhama released the breath she didn't know she had been holding in. Haladhara ruthlessly smashed Kamsa's supporters who attempted to ambush his baby brother. Resting his mighty mace on his shoulders, he gave a wide sarcastic grin to the ones who cowered away.

With a lone solemn glance, Krishna turned to the executioners of Kamsa who held his family and had been ordered to execute the instant Kamsa would lose. And within a fraction of second, Vasudeva, Devaki and Ugrasena were set independent, now breathing a sigh of relief.

Krishna gingerly strutted to his aunts with folded palms, Asti and Prapti who lamented and beat their breasts at the commencement of their widowhood by the corpse of their late husband. "Even though I tried my best to prevent it, it is I who has caused you great sorrow, Aunt. Please bestow me with forgiveness." his facial features bore torment and his gaze remained rooted to the floor, guilt eating him up from the inside. The daughters of Jarasandha then instantaneously left for their father's abode, Magadha. Satyabhama's shoulders dropped in dismay, knowing where this was going.

Mushtika, Chanoora and after the elephant Kuvalayapeeta, Krishna had passed the final hurdle named Kamsa like a child's play. Ultimately a new sun emerged from the back of the mountains, emitting rays that marked the break of dawn. A dawn of dharmarājya in Mathura. But, would it prevail for a prolonged period of time?

Grimacing, Satyabhama shook her head to clear her thoughts. For, for the world she had been a mere child and she had to keep everyone in that illusion, everywhen.

"Putri, come!" called Satrajit when he had scurried to the Yādava family. Pulling up a beatific beam, she twirled and hopped in her steps. Every step pulling her closer to where her Avyukta was, her giggles representing the ecstasy of the universe.

"What is your name, child?" Vasudeva smiled, noticing the way Kanha's gaze never left Satrajiti.

"Satyabhama." came the prompt, chirpy reply. The birds began singing melodies sweeter than honey as pleasant winds enveloped the arena.

Satyabhama, sang the universe, much like how the sound Om repeated itself over and over again.

Satyabhama, her name was like clouds weeping elixir, breathing life in barren lands.

"Satyabhama." Balarama repeated, almost in a whisper. "Beaming with truth. A jewel among women that you already seem like, little sister." he beamed as Ugrasena cooed at the child too.

"Indeed."

Devaki ran an affectionate hand in the midnight black tresses of the doe-eyed girl who in turn batted her eyelashes innocently, almost casting a spell on everyone. Krishna's feet drew him to his Bhama, her magnetism like that of the sun, and her petite frame only seemed to be squirming in front of his brawn one. A wine hued blush coated her cheeks as she lost and found herself in his lotus orbs at the same time.

"Satrajiti." he pronounced, his eyes bearing the purest form of love for his eternal consort.

'Priyatamā.'

"Rajkumar." she breathed, feeling him in her soul like she always did.

'Nātha.'

[terzosboyfriend]

"Holding It In"

Relationship: Ifrit X Zephyr

Type: Smut

Wordcount: 963

Rating: Mature

Cw: Piss Play, Dubious Consent AN: I'd just like to apologize for adding the Dub Con tag late! I kept telling myself to add it before I posted it and still completely spaced on doing so!!

Zephyr being the ghoul who's always been the ghoul sitting in a chair, ends up having that used against him one day in the ministry.

He'd dozed off in his chair earlier that day having completely fallen asleep, only to wake up to the metal click click click of handcuffs. He woke up quickly and tried to stand up so he could defend himself, only to realize that it was his hands that were cuffed, and onto his chair.

He hadn't peed all day so when his fight or flight mode kicked in, his bladder quickly felt full. "What the he-Ifrit?"

"Hello darling~ Sleep well?" Ifrit purred, standing up and circling behind the chair. "What are you doing?" "Just...having some fun~" He purred again, bending down and reaching over Zephyr's shoulder so he could palm his bulge.

"Th-That's fine! But c-can I go pee first at least?" He asked with a slight shake in his voice, trying his best to keep himself in control. Ifrit hummed in thought, undoing Zephyr's belt and pants. "You can later." He purred, very obviously enjoying seeing the ghoul squirm.

"S-Seriously?" His voice squeaked at the end as he tugged on the cuffs, but they refused to break free. Ifrit pulled Zephyr's cock out and started to stroke it, easily allowing it to grow hard. Zephyr squirmed under his grasp, but a firm hand on his shoulder signaled for him to stop.

Zephyr let out a shaky breath as he leaned into his touch, having given up on trying to change Ifrit's mind. If Ifrit was one thing, it was one that when he made his mind up it stayed with that option. Zephyr huffed out in pleasure, fluttering his eyes shut and trying his best to just keep his mind off of how full he was.

Small whimpers escaped his mouth and mixed with his soft moans, letting out a quiet yelp when he felt Ifrit's teeth suddenly sink into his neck. "I-Iffy..." He breathed out trying to move his hips in time with his pumps, but realizing he had to keep himself still otherwise his bladder would give out.

Ifrit pulled his teeth out with a low growl, "Yes Zeph?" He asked while trailing his hand down to Zephyr's stomach. "P-Please speed up.." He whined out which resulted in Ifrit doing exactly that. He seemed to be playing mostly nice today, which he appreciated but it didn't help his bladder one bit. Ifrit licked and kissed the bite mark allowing it to bloom into a beautiful bruise, but right when Zephyr let out a pleased moan, it got interrupted by him pressing hard on his bladder.

Zephyr yelped loudly and his eyes shot open, shutting his legs as tight as he could, but it didn't stop him from having a little bit of pee dribble out from the tip and down his cock. He whined at the sight but let out a relieved huff when Ifrit stopped pressing, but then he did it again. This time a spurt came out, landing directly onto his uniform's shirt. Zephyr whimpered out loudly this only helping him get more turned on with each press and release.

Ifrit sped his hand up by a significant amount, trying to force him to his edge. A combination of this and the repeated pressing down on Zephyr's bladder forced him to let spurt after spurt out, it all soaking into his shirt. He threw his head back with a loud keening whine, trying to squirm his way free from Ifrit's grasp but with no success.

"Just let it go Zeph, don't hold it back~" Ifrit purred before biting hard into his neck again, forcing him to get pushed over his edge and into an orgasm first. He came hard across Ifrit's hand and his clothing, riding through his high, a long stream of piss following not soon after. He let out loud whimpers and whines as he felt his uniform's shirt get soaked in his own fluids, but was completely unable to stop it as he rode through his high.

After at least twenty seconds of this, he finally trickled to a stop and Ifrit pulled his hand away. Ifrit looked at his wet hand with a faint hint of disgust, but in a more dominant way. He grabbed Zephyr's jaw and forced his mouth open with his clean hand, shoving his wet one in his face. "Clean it." He demanded, watching the air ghoul's face flush a deep red.

Zephyr stared at it for too long, resulting in Ifrit shaking his head. "I gave you a command." He growled which snapped Zephyr back into reality, nodding very quickly at the command. He stuck his snake-like tongue out and drug it up the palm of his hand, a small whimper leaving his mouth from the taste. Once Zephyr licked Ifrit's hand clean, he tugged on the cuffs making them clang against the chair's arms. "C-Can you uncuff me now?" He whimpered out, resulting in Ifrit to travel his gaze from the ghoul and down to the cuffs. He hummed in thought and dug through his pockets, pulling a pair of two keys on a key ring too small for his tail to grab out. "You can get out yourself." He told him, tossing the keys into his soaked lap. Zephyr's cock was still out, and the cold of the keyring rested against the base of it. Panic shot through Zephyr and he tugged roughly on the handcuffs, "Wh-What?!" He asked him while trying to shuffle the keys toward his hand but only made them fall to the ground beside him. "You heard me." And just like that, Ifrit left the room, leaving Zephyr to struggle to get the keys off of the ground.

[georgiapeach30513]

Back to Work

Summary:  Zephyr meets teacher

Pairings:  Zephyr/Veda/Rosie X Story/Carter

Rating:  mild

Warnings:  mentions of a drug overdose, drinking, mild language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.1K

Zephyr Baizen Masterlist

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

“Good morning,” Zephyr walks into the kitchen, handing Rosie over to his mom, and sits Veda onto a stool, before sitting down beside her.  “Ooh, Gimpa is making pancakes,” with a little giggle, Veda reaches over to her dad, wanting to get in his lap.  

“Rosie Osie, are you hungry?” Story asks her youngest granddaughter who moves her hand up and down over her belly.  “Okay, okay, Gimpa is finishing up.  Z, I was wanting to talk to you about my old dance studio.  You can say no, but I think both girls could benefit from taking dance.”

“Dance?  Or ballet?”

“I wanna be a ballerina!  Gaga got me tutus, but she won’t let me wear her tiara.”

Zephyr smiles at his mom before blowing raspberries on her neck, “That’s because she’s saving that for when her daughters get married.  You’re asking to wear the wrong tiara.  That one has real diamonds on it.”

“Gaga, can I be a ballerina?” Veda’s little legs wiggle around, and Story was just happy that Veda’s mother hadn’t been brought up yet.  

“Of course.  I can always make sure you get to practice, but I was also informed they want to do some renovations, and…I might have volunteered you,” Zephyr sighs knowing there was more to this random conversation than his mom originally made it out to be.  “You can always say no.”

“No, I can’t.  You’ve already volunteered me.  So I’ll go and get it renovated, and you’re going to put me on display hoping that some dancer scoops me up.”

“Hehe, daddy, you’re funny.”

“It sure beats going out every Friday night,” she smiles over her mug towards Zephyr, while Carter plates up the pancakes, giving his wife a cheek kiss.  “I’m just saying, you should…”

“Daddy, when is mommy going to call?” Using her two pointer fingers, Rosie pushes them together, mouthing ouch over and over again.  “Daddy, I’m sorry.  I just…I’m sorry,” he gives his daughter the sweetest kiss on her cheek.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Z,” Carter says calmly, “You’re going to eat breakfast with your daughters.  Then you can go to work,” with a single nod of his head, he sits there quietly, but withdrawn.  “Now, Veda, after breakfast, we’ll get you dressed up, and find you a less expensive tiara, okay?”

“Okay, Gimpa, I’m sorry.”

——

Zephyr stares at his daughters asleep in his bed.  He only had an hour or two before Veda would be up, wandering around the castle looking for him.  It was his only time alone.  There were always people running about, but this time of night, everyone had retired to their bed.  Walking downstairs, he stops when he sees his dad at the bar cart pouring two glasses.  

“Sit.”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk.”

“Sit,” Carter repeats, holding a glass up to his son, and pointing to the plush couch.  “Your mom is asleep in the bed with Audi and Fauna, and you have a baby monitor in your pocket.  We’ve got time to spare.”

He takes a sip of the straight bourbon, and looks out at nothing.  Clenching his teeth for a moment, “You’re pissed off at Piper because she gets to go on and do whatever she wants without consequence.”

“I’m pissed off at Piper because I came home to my baby crying and hitting her mother who passed out.  She had a rash because she hadn’t been changed all day.  I couldn’t find Veda, and when I did she wasn’t moving.  Rosie was still crying, and Veda never moved.  Dad, I thought my daughter was dead.  I thought Piper was, too, and I didn’t care.  The only thing that mattered was my daughters.  Yeah, I’m fucking pissed off that she doesn’t have the decency to get clean and ask about Veda.  Rosie is traumatized and refuses to speak.  We’ve got her signing because of something her mother did to them.”

“Son, I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through.  What I do know is you’re a good dad,” Zephyr sniffles, and lifts his cup up, completely downing the expensive bourbon.  “But while you’re worrying about your girls, can we not still worry about our son?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.  You’re working late hours.  If Veda brings up Piper, you are ready to run away.  You go out every Friday and Saturday night, and…”

“I’m just drinking.  I’m not having sex with anyone.  Ask Illiana and Iclynn.  They always come and pick my drunk ass up.  I just need space.  That’s it.  I need time for me to be alone.  But drinking alone is sad, so I go to a bar.  I sit there, I sometimes talk, sometimes I just drink my beer.  Is it so bad that I want time for myself?  I work, I come home, I’m a dad, I’m a big brother, I spend time with my daughters, I get them ready for bed, I lay in the bed and talk to them, and I get mad that Rosie is two and doesn’t even say daddy.  I need,” Carter stands up, and sits down beside his son, wrapping his arms around him.

“I know what mom is doing, but…I can’t date.  My daughters need me.”

“She’s not asking you to date.  She’s wanting you to get out and do something for yourself.  Your mom only wants to see her babies happy.”

“I’m not.  Dad, I screwed up.  I knew what Piper was doing, and I still wanted another baby.  Do you think…what if it’s more than what happened with Rosie, what if…Piper wasn’t good.  She wasn’t clean.  I even tested Rosie, because I didn’t think she was mine, and…dad, I’m just as guilty.  I should have taken Veda and came home.”

Pulling out of his embrace, he holds Zephyr’s face in both of his hands, wishing he was his always dirty little boy again, “We wouldn’t have Rosie.  She’s making sounds out of her mouth.  She’s happy, and she’s perfect.  You should have seen her today with your mom.  Dance will be good for both of them.  Rosie liked her tutu, and didn't even wanna take it off.  Zeph, everyday is a new day.  Quit dwelling on that ugly past.”

“Veda has anxiety.  She’s five.”

“Yeah, well, that could be a Baizen thing.  I had anxiety at that age, too,” a crackle in the monitor makes Zephyr pull it out of his pocket, and then he hears the whisper of Veda.

“I’m counting to ten, daddy.  I need you to keep me warm.”

“Go to sleep, Z.  Remember, we’re only here to help everyone.”

He runs upstairs before Veda starts wandering through the house.  Story steps out of the bedroom, and walks over to sit beside her husband.  Her hand rubs over his chest, while she leans on his shoulder, “I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you when I first met you.”

“My Queen, there’s no way in the world you remember the first time you met me.”

“I do.  I remember looking at those pretty eyes, Baizen.  You needed me, and I needed you.  Our adult children’s problems are so much worse than our babies.”

“You can’t compare our sons to our daughters.  Otto is thirty.”

“And won’t leave the Hampton house.”

“Shh, just hold me for a minute.  I don’t want to talk about our two sons that never come home.  At least Otto calls.  Brookie…Carter I just got a bad feeling about all that.  He’s up there alone since Annie broke up with him, and…” Carter shushes his wife, and pulls her in closer.  There was nothing they could do about the breakup, or Otto’s resistance to home.  The only thing he could do was hold her right now, and that’s what he wanted to do for the rest of the night.

“Come on, I know two little princesses that are going to be rolled all around that bed.”

——

You pace back and forth in the studio, wondering if it was going to be a good idea to have the little class when the practice room is getting some upgrades.  An alum of the studio had volunteered her son to renovate the space, all for lessons for his daughters.  The Baizen’s.  You had heard about them throughout most of your life.  Boston royalty with enough kids to make a baseball team.  

With a clearing of your mother’s throat, you look towards the door to what you assumed was the grandmother, and two of the cutest little girls, “I’m Story,” she holds her hand out to you, while the toddler in her arms had her fingers crossed, and touches each side of her nose, “And this is Rosie.  She’s non-verbal, but she’s really good at signing, aren’t you, baby?” With a sweet dimpled smile, she nods her head.

“And this is Veda,” the little girl didn’t want to come from behind her grandmother’s leg, but she peeks out from behind it.  “She’s only a little shy.”

“My daddy is going to be here the whole time?”

Looking up at the grandmother, you squat down to the little girl’s level, “Is your daddy the one that’s working on the studio?” She gives you a little nod, using her pointer finger to rub over her nose, “I bet if you listen, you can hear him working.  You see this mirror?  On the other side is another room, your daddy is over there.”

“So if I want him, I can go get him.”

“I hope you have so much fun you won’t even think about him,” she gives you a scowl, and looks up at her grandmother.  “But sure, if you really get to missing him, we can go get him.  But since you and Rosie are here in your leotards, why don’t we go to the barre and warmup.  It’s just us during this class, okay?”

Looking up at Story, Veda drops her hand, and Story puts Rosie down on the ground, and they follow you over to the barre.  You mother and her walk out, and you spend your time teaching them positions.  Getting Veda completely distracted until she hears the hammering.  “Can we go check, just real quick?  I wanna make sure that’s my daddy.”

“We can take a three minute break to check,” Rosie looks up at you with her pouting blue eyes, making grabby hands at you, until you pick her up.  Heading towards the door, Veda grabs your hand in her own, and follows you in the room.  “Remember, it won’t be safe for us to walk in, so we have to stay at the door.

“Okay,” she was an adorable little girl.  Her demeanor had changed when she realized she was going to see her daddy.  Bouncing in her step, and when she spots him, she squeals, “Daddy!  I just had to check and see if it was really you.”

You gulp as the man walks closer to you.  He was huge, tall, and handsome, and had a dangerous smile.  “Hello, my darlings. Have you been doing the toe pointing like Gaga?”

“And the hands.  Daddy, this is teacher.”

“I’m sure it is,” you try to look away, but he had those piercing blue eyes just like the little girls.  He had no right to look this handsome, and you felt guilty for clinging to his daughters, while you were checking him out.  “Daddy has a lot of work to do, so go back with teacher.  When I’m done we’ll go home, okay?”

“Can we get Biscoffs?”

“Yes.  Now, behave Veda.  Muah,” he gives Rosie a kiss, before leaning down to give one to Veda.  He smelled too good.  Way too good, and too expensive.  He had two kids.  He had baggage.  You had no business looking at him.  Or even worrying about who he was.  You were too young for a baby, much less two children, and yet, you wanted to know all about this man.  “Teacher, they’re all yours now.”

“Right,” he smiles at you, and even he had a dimple.  You needed to get back into the room.  “Okay, ladies.  Let’s go back, and do some dancing.”

“Thank you, teacher!” He calls to you as you walk away.  Don’t look at him.  Don't mention that he wasn’t wearing a ring.  Don’t do anything but get back into the studio.  You couldn’t look at him anymore.  But when you looked at his little girls, you saw his exact eyes staring back at you.  Someone in this family really spread the love with their genes.  Shaking your head, you get back into first position.  There was nothing some ballet couldn’t take your mind off the tall thick man.  

“Alright, ladies, back to work,” both girls giggle at you as they try to copy your movements.  It was sad that you had to tell yourself the exact same things.  Back to work.  Put the man out of your mind.  Back to work.

Next

Masterlist

[catsofchaos]

The Boys of the Blog

this will be a (hopefully) comprehensive compilation of the faces on this blog

Scooby

gotcha day: sept 25, 2011, est dob ~june 2011

rescue, havanese x

bubba/bugga, scoobert/boobert

my childhood dog, so he's more like a brother. he doesn't look (or act) his age most of the time and people tend to think he's much younger, but he's finally starting to get cataracts and his teeth have begun to be a problem (has had 10 teeth pulled, so he has a goofy smile and his tongue pokes out when he sleeps 🥺). he has next to zero drive but he likes food enough that we can still make obedience training fun. all in all, he's remarkably sound for a free dog.

Rowan

dob: april 7, 2019

found under a bush, under 24hr old

Row-bow. The biggest hole in my wallet.

I love him sm, he's my world.

he and his brother were bottle fed neonates. rowan has so many problems. he can be an angry little demon with a serious lack of restraint, one might say he has obsessive-compulsive tendencies. he has pica (exploratory surgery nov 2019 at 6months, so so so many hairties and towels....), urinary issues (blocked july 2022), and aggression that he takes fluoxetine for. he requires extensive management, so i just say he's essentially a special needs cat. he's also my heart cat, love this little shithead

River

dob: april 7, 2019

found under a bush, less than a day old

ham, hammie, hambone, hamster, etc etc

the unproblematic fave, the household favorite. so sweet and perfect, an absolute angel. very small and sickly as a kitten so we didn't think he'd make it, and is notably smaller than his brother. he has a little bit of a sensitive tummy (and he has to eat upright at a "table" or else he vomits). he desperately wants to go outside (they're strictly indoor cats), and is partially leash trained, so he explores the backyard every now and then.

Zephyr

dob: ~nov 2023

got him from a convention, labeled as a 12-week-old male dumbo halfmoon imported from singapore. who really knows tho

i love his personality. i like to spoil him with a large variety of foods. he started out pure white but he's starting to change colors.

i had a mature 5.5 gallon planted shrimp tank that I wanted to do some population control on after an imposter shrimp made all the genetics in the tank go haywire. but he is a mediocre predator bc he gets the good stuff from me.

other:

Kaida

a southern alligator lizard that i rehabbed a while ago that now lives behind my garden bed and manages the bugs for me :)

Me, the human

i work in an animal hospital, and my interests (read: autistic hyperfixations) include (in very general terms) animal medicine, dog sports, nutrition/behavior/training/ethical breeding, sustainable agriculture, and animal welfare.