#zeph's thoughts

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

literally the only thing i have consumed related to the umbrella academy was watching that one scene where they dance off to footloose and they seem like they have the time of their frickin lives but based on my knowledge of how tv shoes are usually set up im guessin somethin really bad happens immediately following that sequence

[clingyduofan]

clear path

[coffeeghoulie]

Ghostober Day 12: Bondage

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together <3

Pairing: Zephyr/Ifrit

Zephyr wants to make their flame look pretty, and Ifrit is happy to oblige.

Mature, 1.1k. They/Them for Zephyr. Contains bondage (technically shibari but i have plans for that day re: the other prompt)

Divider by @wrathofrats <3

"Are you ready, my flame?"

Zephyr's voice cuts through the chatter already starting to cloud Ifrit's mind; he shakes his head to try and clear it. He straightens up, shifting a little on the cushioned stool Zephyr's directed him to sit on as they set their cool hands on his broad shoulders, the point of their chin resting between his spiral horns.

Ifrit takes a deep breath, relaxing some under the points of contact. "I, uh." Ifrit pauses. Clears his throat. Zephyr doesn't try to fill the silence. "Not sure if I'm going to be able to sit still for this, Zeph."

Zephyr hums, a warbling, soft note like a dove's call. Considering. "Would you like some help?"

The fire ghoul huffs a breath through his nose, charcoal lashes resting on his cheeks as he shuts his eyes. "Please help, Zee?"

The air ghoul's head moves to press a kiss just under the point of his ear, nose nudging the several gold earrings threaded through the lobe. "Of course I'll help. Hands?"

"Will they be in the way if they're behind my back?" Ifrit cranes his neck to glance at his mate over his shoulder.

"Not terribly, no," Zephyr hums, trailing kisses down random spots over Ifrit's shoulders, over freckles that look like little flakes of white ash. "I think I saw a modification to what I wanted to put you in that restrains the arms behind the back as well."

"You gonna share with the class, 'specially because you're putting me in it?" he asks lightheartedly, taking a deep breath of the sweet apple blossoms and mint of their scent, letting it settle any residual nerves. There is no one else Ifrit trusts as much as his air ghoul. Will put himself into their hands time and time again.

Zephyr hums again. Drags one of those hands down Ifrit's sternum, feeling the rabbit pulse of his heart. "Was thinking a chest harness. Frame your perfect tits. But," They trail off, pianist's fingers tracing a pattern of lines across his skin. "A nice pentagram across your chest."

Ifrit groans softly, letting his head roll back softly onto Zephyr's shoulder. "We making this a religious thing, Zee? Lust for our Lord and all that?"

Zephyr shrugs, raising an eyebrow. "If you'd like to see it like that. I imagine we don't need to dedicate it to Him for it to count."

"I mean, just wasn't expecting a ritual when you said you wanted to play, is all."

Zephyr smiles, gap between their front teeth. "No, flame, no ritual. Just wanted to make you look nice for me."

"I'll never say no to that," Ifrit says. "Just, might need some help sitting still. Don't want to mess up your work."

"That can be taken care of," Zephyr laughs, finally leaving Ifrit's side to grab the two hanks of rope set out on their nightstand. They're beautiful pieces, if they had to say, each length dyed an ombre of yellow to orange to red and back. Slowly, Zephyr makes their way back to their mate. "Grab your elbows."

Ifrit flashes them a grin before complying, wrapping thick fingers gently around his arms. Zephyr pulls up a matching stool to the one Ifrit's on, taking a seat and unwinding the shorter hank of rope.

Zephyr hums something soft and melodic as they begin to work, tying Ifrit's wrists together with a simple cuff. It's slow and precise, even with such a simple tie. Zephyr smiles as they watch Ifrit's shoulders relax as they check the tightness and tension. He's always so worried he'll move and mess up a tie, wants nothing more than to be good for them, and Zephyr's always happy to indulge him in stillness.

"Better?" they ask as they tie off the cuffs.

"Much," Ifrit nods, not a moment of hesitation.

Zephyr smiles, rubbing their cheek against his shoulder with a soft coo before unwinding the second hank of rope. They give him a moment to enjoy the nuzzling before straightening, adjusting his posture. "Alright, my flame. Nice and still so I can make you look pretty."

Ifrit's back straightens, his shoulders flexed as the rope holds his hands behind his back. Even the finest sculptors' works couldn't compare to their flame, but Zephyr shakes their head as they begin to work.

It's meditative, and Zephyr even dares to think they might enjoy this more than Ifrit does, even as they sense his breathing slow and ease. They don't need to be quintessence to know that all of the thoughts have quieted in his overactive brain as they work.

Zephyr weaves the rope carefully over and around Ifrit's shoulders, between his biceps and his body. Solid horizontal bands that sit above and below his pecs. Each tie is checked meticulously, two of Zephyr's fingers between the rope and Ifrit's skin, warm to the touch like they're holding their hand over a flickering candle. The rope gets undone if Zephyr's not satisfied, finds the slightest flaw in how the tie sits over Ifrit's body. Nothing but perfection for their fire ghoul.

If Ifrit ever gets impatient with Zephyr's meticulous fussing, he never shows it; when Zephyr stands in front of him to arrange the pentagram over his heart, his eyes are soft and unfocused.

Ifrit lifts his head slowly, meeting Zephyr's eyes, giving them a tiny, crooked smile. His dark hair falls out of its ponytail, loose waves brushing the tops of his shoulders. Zephyr returns his expression as they tie off the last knot, taking a step back to admire their work.

As always, Ifrit's a vision, and Zephyr lets their eyes rake hungrily over his chest, his dusky nipples peaked from exposure to the cool air around them. His tits are perfectly framed by rope, seemingly making them bulge even further. Zephyr, despite their grip on their composure, feels their mouth water at the sight.

"You did such a good job staying still for me, my flame," they coo. Something in Ifrit's eyes flash and spark at the praise, and a glance down to his lap finds his cock bulging at the front of his gym shorts as he starts to harden. "I suppose I should reward you for such good behavior."

"Yeah?" Ifrit asks, voice slow as Zephyr moves to stand behind him once again. Their hands come up to his chest, pianist's fingers dimpling the muscle and fat.

Zephyr nips at Ifrit's earlobe, at the gold ring threaded through it as they begin to whisper. "Anything for my good little flame."

Ifrit's responding groan is music to Zephyr's ears.

[sageofthestarz]

Some sad kinda fucked Ifrit thoughts because I woke up and they came

Cw; Substance Abuse, Sex as a coping mechanism, and just kinda general sads.

Nothing graphic said but still putting those ^

Ifrit

Big, Strong, oh so stupid Ifrit.

That's what was thought of him. A muscle head who fucked hard, partied hard, and got fucked up without a care.

An easy fuck and go without connections, without having to stick around after sorta thing

That isn't who he was though.

This was all learned behavior because it's what got him the attention he craved, any sense of being useful, cared about even if it was only because his body was useful

He loved and hated every single second of every single hookup, high, and any other thing that got him out of his head

If he wasn't happy he wasn't useful, if he didn't stay the persona they all knew he wouldn't be liked, if she showed just how broken inside he truly was he'd lose everything and everyone he had, no matter how superficial he needed the attention

It didn't matter if it was a vicious cycle of regrets, and horrible sleepless night, bad highs and.. thoughts he shouldn't have. Couldn't have

It was all he had now

His pack was broken.

His pack hated him after he left.

He never bothered to try and reconnect, why would he.

Aether, Mountain, and Dew stayed with the band, Zephyr never spoke to him, Mist was long gone to be with the lake.

He couldn't bother any of them with this.

With him.

He left the pack, he left the band, that was his choice. He left the only people who cared about him and for what? To go and be whatever he was now?

Yes.

Even when he knew he could possibly rekindle something he didn't. Shoved those feelings down and shoved more substance down his throat.

He didn't deserve it.

Didn't deserve to have that happiness.

That comfort.

Ifrit used to be the most caring, lovable golden retriever there was.

Always following someone's trail, loving on them, and doing every favor he could

His pack loved him

He loved his pack

Now a days he's nothing more then an old dog owned by a family long since grown.

One that's waiting for the first excuse to be put down despite all the love it has left to give.

He thinks it's what he deserves.

A life of misery, and pain without comfort.

He watches his old pack in longing, the only happiness coming from seeing how happy and healthy they are

He'd do anything for them even now

He's so happy to see them thrive and love each other

Even if it also breaks his heart.

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

english is red, math is yellow, science is royal blue, and history is either brown or orange, i dont make the rules people.

i’m curious

reblog if you’re curious as well

[s4tanic-pan1c]

They hate when you serve gay son and thot daughter

[ananxiousgenz]

so in reference to the Gender Confusion I've been having recently: I think I'm gonna try out a new name and pronouns!! so allow me to reintroduce myself: hi, my name is leander and I use he/she/they pronouns :)

[sovaghoul]

Everybody talks about guitarist/bassist fingers but what about pianist hands? Tapping patterns from muscle memory up your inner thighs. The strength and stamina from striking the keys. How they know how to vary pressure to elicit different sounds.

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

GKAKB ITS HILARIOUS I SWEAR

I've been like thinking abt it in my head as like

period accurate kind of

but if they had Tumblr in 1899

yknow?

Laughing so hard at the RPvers bc like. In universe they can just see each other posting about them IT'S SO FUNNY

[zephrunsimperium]

Okay so there's that part in Weirdmageddon where Ford is gonna draw the Cipher Wheel and he's like "Does anyone have a pen?" But he has a pen right in his breast pocket. (Stan actually looks at the camera in the background when this happens, it's hilarious, he's like "do you see this shit")

As someone who has a fountain pen and is very particular about pens I firmly believe that Ford knew damn well he had a pen in his pocket. But he loves his pen, he's not going to draw on the ground with his emotional support pen, no he needs someone else's shitty pen.

And I love him for that.

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

you know what

for forever from deh is ralbert coded from albert's perspective

[wrathofrats]

If you want to, may I request a full fic with that Ifrit thought? He needs to be taken care of too :( <3

Hi! I didn’t answer this right away bc I mulled over writing a full fic but I know damn well bc of who I am that if I save this for when I feel I can actually write an entirely fleshed out thing for it, that it will rot in my ask box along with every other idea people have sent me. However I am more than happy to expand upon the post, and give ifrit some comfort, I hope that’s alright!

—————

Ifrit shakes in aethers arms. Trying hard to regain the facade of composure he thought he had, but he can’t keep it in. Aether leads him to the couch to sit, holds his head tight to his chest since ifrit is practically boneless in his arms. Trying to cry as quietly as possible with his shirt muffling the sounds.

“It’s ok wildfire, let it out” aether whispers into his hair, giving a small kiss to his crown.

Ifrit doesn’t speak, doesn’t even try. Knows his voice will be shaky and incomprehensible. He wraps his arms around aether tightly, leaning into his embrace as if being closer to aether will make it easier to compose himself.

“Shh, doing so great ifrit, you’re so good to everyone”

“But I didn’t-“

“Doesn’t matter. You do so much, you’re alright just rest for a bit ok?”

It takes a bit for the shaking to stop, for the hiccups that racked his body to dissipate into small sniffles and steady breathing. Just letting aether run his hand through his hair, whispering sweet words in his ear

[mp3minded]

guys.. would if Stefan is Zeph?

[clingyduofan]

i really dislike facial planes

[castielafflicted]

the thing abt most of the reoccurring men in spn is like. i couldnt fix him. but i could dom him.

[bldwspr]

was talking to ada last night and got inspired to do this.. see more for context