Ζεφυρος

Zephyrus Greek myth AU - Literate - 18+ "A lout is Zephyrus. The scene seems a laughing matter to the Wind-god as he taunts you from his look-out. You can see him, I think, with his winged temples and his delicate form; and he wears a crown of all kinds of flowers, and will soon weave the hyacinth in among them."

[zefylus-blog1]

eulvs

Sorrow runs through his veins much like the blood they share between them. Though right now it feels like his blood has run cold–he has eerie memories of how cold Zephyrus’  body had been when he had exited the caves and Eurus had been there to catch him; he doesn’t want to experience the same thing–he still responds to the touch from his brother. His brain feels fried, and a good part of it has difficulty functioning properly. (Shock, maybe?)

Yet, when Zephyrus’ touch warmed his skin the slightest bit, he would have thrown himself at the other, had he any strength in his body left. He felt weak, entirely too weak, thoughts and ideas switching back and forth like the unpredictable weather. The tears wouldn’t stop coming, and looking at the corpse reminded him of his crime. A wedding cake, Zephyrus had compared it with. Eurus wanted to cry.

And cry he did, weeping in silence as he soaked in the warmth his brother had to offer. The compliments were a reassurance, but how much of a reassurance could they remain? He had done a crime, and he was being praised for it. Part of it was horrible, disgusting, and he had fallen from the grace he had talked himself into having. If he had any pride to rebuild, it would have to start from scratch and build it up again. Who knew how long that could take? He didn’t.

His mind was blank, and his body felt numb, but despite those circumstances he felt how Zephyrus kissed him, praised him. Eurus had the nerve to feel loved, feel a bit better about the situation, dared to feel a spark of fire in his gut. He couldn’t reply to the promises, suggestions, reassurances spoken by his brother, couldn’t reply to what was said. 

Not until he felt something inside of him stir–desire–at a time like this.

“W-Wait..” He argued, half-assed. It felt entirely too wrong and he could not stop crying. “Zephyrus, wait, not here..” He tried again, eyes focused on the body still in the process of being torn up. “The–The body..”  He explained, though he didn’t need to. He knew his brother knew, and he knew his brother read him very well. He knew his defense was growing weak, the warmth so enticing, his lover’s words so soothing. He wanted to drown in everything Zephyrus gave him. 

Even if this was not the time nor the place to do such a thing. Not under these circumstances.

The blade fell from his grip as he held his brother, his lover, but he did not mind. It was as figurative as it was literal, lowered weapons in a moment of peace despite the bloodied corpse lying on the ground. The dead man would not reach out and stab them to avenge his fate. Zephyrus had learned as much when none of his prayers had been answered.

“Baby, don’t cry...”

He did not actually mean that. He loved it when Eurus cried (as long as it was not his doing), expressing an emotion that Zephyrus failed to comprehend so openly. His tear stained cheeks were beautiful, as were his swollen eyes and trembling lips. He seemed so vulnerable and honest when he cried and if Zephyrus had not know better, he might have easily claimed to have fallen in love with his tears.

The rain on the other hand could get on his nerves at times, but only when it came unnoticed, like a secret clue that revealed the result without the cause. He was not one to play guessing games or mope in the rain, but somehow Eurus had always found a way to push his buttons with the downpours. Perhaps it was destiny, too.

“It’s done, but we’ll survive,” he told Eurus, brushing the pad of his thumb across his cheekbones again and again, feeling a warm tear trickle down his hand. “We will survive no matter what, one day at a time, together. Always together. You’ll never be alone again...”

Loneliness. Zephyrus had been alone in his cave, reaching the point of talking to the walls (and to the walls talking back) millions of times. Eurus had been alone in the outside world, replacing the talking walls with people, never growing attached, always miserable in his loneliness. They could not function flawlessly without one another. Zephyrus understood it now. There was no one else that could complete him like Eurus did, or vice versa.

“The body doesn’t care,” Zephyrus murmured against Eurus’s throat, sucking the skin between his teeth. “The soul is gone. He is a stone, a rotten meal, I don’t care.” A living human could not compete with what he felt for Eurus, let alone a dead one. 

He tackled Eurus down on the wet floor, but he did not feel disgust for the blood under the palms of his hands. He hardly noticed, focused only on his lover, ignoring the grotesque scene or the weather or any weak attempts to deny him. It was always a no and then it was a yes and then it was a please, and what had first made him feel like a bad man would make him feel like the only man for Eurus.

“I want you.”

It was more than a simple desire for immediate pleasure. It was about distress and distraction, about colliding spirits and violent symbolism.

“I want you so much,” he muttered against his ear and his jaw, pushing a bloody hand up his stomach to dishevel his shirt and expose his body for his own.

[zefylus-blog1]

Accept sadness just like you accept happiness. We need both sadness and happiness in our lives to grow up and bloom into beautiful flowers - Sometimes we have trouble accepting pain as part of our existence but it's important to acknowledge it and learn from it before we can move on! (◍•ᴗ•◍) ❤

I feel like such a pretty flower ‘cos I’ve got so much both! Thanks, love! Good to see ya back.

[zefylus-blog1]

geuyi

love and trust? seriously? soa almost snorted at his response. it sounded cute, coming from a guy, actually. ❝well, that’s so sweet of you… i’m pleased to know you want to receive my love. are you perhaps, hitting on me?❞ she knew he wasn’t doing anything like that, but a little tease won’t hurt, right? she put up an innocent face, trying to hide her playful facade about the question. ❝not that i mind though, but you’re still a stranger to me.❞ was he? by how she treated him the past few minutes, he doesn’t seem like a stranger anymore. this time, a small portion of laughter escaped from her lips. heck, it was hard to keep it in after all.

❝same function or not, it’s still a different cup! i can’t possible forget about my favourite cup that easily.❞ she shook her head, bothered by the thought of it. it may not seem like, but soa valued things well, especially when it has a certain significance. ❝that’s if you were able to put them back together, like nothing happened. but still, the value isn’t the same anymore.❞ her nose scrunched up at him.

brows furrowed, she didn’t understand what he meant but that. ❝your family’s in europe? so what are you doing here in korea? don’t tell me… you came back just for me? awwwwwww, zeph..❞ okay, now he’s the zephy he knew, she wasn’t even denying anymore. even without the actual reason, soa chuckled to herself. ❝i’m kidding. so, mind tell me what’s up? how is it not pleasant and bad both at the same time?❞ 

Zeph flashed a sly smile over his shoulder, not because she was right, but because she was funny and he wanted to play along.

“Oh me? Do I come off as that kinda guy? Could be just my natural, irresistible charisma.” He wiggled his eyebrows in an obnoxious way. “Why, d’ya wish I was? Is it ‘cos I look more handsome now?” He grinned again. She was a good girl, comfortable to be around and pretty to look at. Maybe in some other life, with less emotional burdens and secrets, he might have given it a shot.

“I should be the one to glue it back together? Innit better if some pro does it? If I tried it’d go wrong somehow, I’d shape is as a porcelain puppy instead of a cup or something!” he whined. “Wha, are you saying that once something is broken its value is permanently decreased? Hey, what happened to being attached?! I think that once something’s been broken, the value increases, because it’s been through something powerful and unique! Whoa, this got deep.”

He sat on the kitchen counter and rubbed his nose.

“Of course I came back for you! Why else? But yeah, I have family in Europe. In here too, though. So I visited them and now I’m back to... well...” In the current situation, it seemed like his brother was not willing to see him, or the other way around. “Iunno, I kinda feel like home here. It’s good to have two homes. Always a place to escape to. It’s bittersweet!”

[gyuseu]

The Day After We Broke Up

[zefylus-blog1]

eulvs:

Zephyrus is more inclined to do as Eurus requests of him than he had previously anticipated. Is he paranoid? Of course he is. There is no difference between them now, and the guilt is crippling his mind to think properly. Maybe it’s the fact he knows he’s on the same level as his brother now, and the shame that comes with it. Of course the younger of the two had plenty of time to get used to it, but this is all too fresh for Eurus to carry on his shoulders immediately. Fresh tears well up in his eyes once more, and he knows it won’t be the last time. 

Does any of it call for a reaction? Naturally, he is grateful that at least one of them is down to earth during a situation like this, if both of them had been chaotic in their minds, who knows what further disaster would follow. Even making a joke during a time like this leaves Eurus with the need to laugh because it is ridiculous, but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do so. He watches, watches as his brother dismember a corpse, keeps watching as a limb is cut off, keeps watching even when his stomach curls in on itself and sickness tickles his nerves and he feels the need to throw up. 

It takes a lot of strength not to break down and cry. Part of him begs him to flee, to run as fast as possible and Zephyrus can handle the rest. But he can’t. The little part inside of him that speaks sense and sanity reminds him he needs Zephyrus just as much as Zephyrus needs him. He chokes on a sob as he’s reminded of the funeral pyre. 

His eyes look over the area first, browse over the floor, watch how everything is stained with blood, how it’s also stuck to his clothes and skin, staining everything. Evidence of his crime. For a moment, he wants to suggest to just turn the entire house into a fire burial, but as Zephyrus suggested, it would just attract attention. However, the beach is not far away from here.

“There’s..” He begins, the difficulty with breathing slowly subsiding as it might be a proper solution for their funeral issue at least. “There’s.. There are a caves near the beach. It’s hollow and it’s covered by a cliff. No one would see and the smoke won’t be seen as quickly.” He argues. Smoke near a beach is rarely alarming, large bonfires no threat for the nearby water. 

Despite how he speaks, he can’t look away from his brother. His lover. The other half to this horrific crime he had committed and was stuck in, yet he was not alone. 

The white noise of the rain grew stronger. Eurus was crying again, warm tears streaming down his face like little streams of muddy water trickled down the terrain, but Zephyrus’s hands were busy with dismantling a corpse. There was something primitive about it, something right. Surely Zephyrus was the adaptable one, even during the era of Internet and phones and buzzers, beating his frigid brother when it came to conforming to the changing world. But the years Eurus had spent with men had shaped him to become more like them. No matter how much Zephyrus enjoyed the new world, he was still a deity inside. Cruel, hot-tempered, forgiving, definite. The blood on his hands was nothing, he told himself. There was guilt and there was joy.

“You can do it, right?”

Eurus was still standing there, idle. Zephyrus wanted to give him the time he needed, but he was growing impatient, too. The bones were hard to cut through, and he regretted not thinking before acting. He clenched his jaw, stabbing the dull knife through a chunk of lukewarm flesh. He could not expect more. Not when Eurus was more devastated than he was.

There should have been a plan to follow, some convenient way that did not requrie relying on grotesque rituals. His anger was aimed at the lifeless corpse, its tendons and bones, providing help in parts that required brute force.

“The cave’s good.” Finally some change of course, an opinion and a suggestion. “Iunno if it matters if we do this lowkey in some gods forsaken cave or burn the whole Athens, but I guess the odds’re on the favor of the cave.” As long as it was not the cave, they were all the same.

Two things in his world, punishment and Eurus.

“Babe, c’mere.”

It was not difficult for him to stab a dead man. He felt nothing but the craving for Eurus’s warmth, but that alone was plenty of reason to sit up and take his brother’s hand, slick from drying blood, to pull him closer. Just touching him made his heart jump. It was like the bond had been tightened. Like something that had tied them together before had finally melted, truly making them one.

“Do this with me.” There was a wicked grin on his face as he pulled Eurus close, entwining their fingers. “I want to do this together. It’s like cutting wedding cake, but better.” He looked at him with dark eyes, admiration and adoration written all over his features. Just touching him made him feel like he could easily cut through a dozen bones.

“You look beautiful.Gorgeous. Divine.” It slipped out. It always did, but he was never ashamed. “Red looks good on you.” He kissed his chin, his knuckles, his neck. “We’re doomed, but we’re doomed together. I want nothing more than to die with you, but I doubt we’d be granted the mercy. Let’s just ruin him, wreck him, like we should be wrecked, and then run. I’ll run with you forever, Eurus...” He sunk his teeth in his collarbone and rolled is tongue against the bruise, preferring the flavor of Eurus to the flavor of the corpse with no name.

[roseure-blog1]

Bold your muse’s preference!

1. Movies

Comedy or Action?

Romance or Horror?

Adventure or Drama?

Historical or Musicals?

Sci-fi or Westerns?

2. Food

Tea or Coffee?

Cake or Pie?

Fruit or Vegetables?

Sweet or Spicy?

Cereal or Oatmeal?

Bagels or Cookies?

Sandwich or Pizza?

3. Nature

Early Bird or Night Owl?

Summer or Winter?

City or Countryside?

Cats or Dogs?

Hiking or Swimming?

Forest or Meadow?

4.  Misc.

Hugs or Kisses?

Books or Movies?

Shorts or Long Pants?

Monopoly or Sorry?

Comic Books or Novels?

Showers or Baths?

Chess or Checkers?

Hip-Hop or Classical Music?

[eulvs]

When they were younger, their opposing natures would be the driving force to pull them together. Where Zephyrus is weak, Eurus is strong and vice versa. Their brothers were the same in their own respective ways. However, nothing quite strengthened the pull as Zephyrus’ punishment after the horrible crime so many years ago. Even when Zephyrus had so much praise by mankind, even if Eurus envied him to no extent, even when he thought he would have loved seeing his brother crumble under the punishment he received, his heart did nothing but ache when he witnessed the cave locking the western wind in. 

And it had been Eurus, after all, who had stood there, waiting for his younger brother when he was released for a short time to breathe. (After all, what greater punishment is there to remind a trapped soul of freedom before snatching it away again?) He was there, and held his brother, and kissed him and told him everything would be okay. It’s been countless years, but Eurus remembers it vaguely, still. 

Even when Zephyrus found him, many many many years after Eurus departure from their home, after he had hidden himself for years, distancing himself from any and all deities. Even when Zephyrus pulled when Eurus pushed, screamed and tossed objects at him, after sympathy had been replaced by raging jealousy, resurfacing after centuries again, he had been unable to keep his kin at a distance. 

Push and pull, but they would always end up near each other. 

Eurus has stopped denying it after he went out of his way to find Zephyrus himself, after the younger had left the city and returned but steered clear of Eurus’ path. Nothing was as sweet as the spring god held in his arms. 

And now that same god laid his life in Eurus’ hands because he felt the same way about their union. So devoted, so open, so painfully intertwined that separation was no longer an option. Yet Eurus knew, knew that if he told Zephyrus to do what he had to do to run his hands just as red as his own, to commit the crime, to reap the benefits of a sacrifice. Being an accomplice means you get to share the prize after all. 

Push and pull. He felt his heart heavy and light at the same time, his mind racing and his blood rushing. He felt the need to push his brother away, tell him to leave, tell him he would take care of it himself, but it wouldn’t work. If he pushed now, he would never be able to pull him back. 

“Okay..” He breathes, feeling fresh tears roll down his cheeks. “Cut.. Cut him up.. Hide his body. If you want.. If you want this, you need to get your hands dirty.” Guilt pulled his pride down and stripped him of any pretenses of being better-than-thou. He was telling Zephyrus what to do, only to chain their bloodied, guilty hands together. “Finish it. You need the sacrifice.”

[zefylus-blog1]

"I want this because I want you.”

His words left no room for doubt. Human bodies had never meant much to him, not after he had found out how fragile and brittle they were, how vulnerable, but he was not as particularly fond of destroying them as some deities were. The ancient part of him, the sane part, was fascinated by all forms of life. Was cutting up a healthy human not much like ripping apart a potted plant, meaningless and unnecessarly cruel? But there was bitterness to him, too, and it surfaced easily when he saw how hurt Eurus was. The man could have defended himself, but he had not. He could have fought for his life, but he had not. Hell, gods could have created their favorite pets to be extra resilient, but they had not. A knife could not be blamed for the damage it had done. And what had Eurus been but a knife, a victim of his own instincts and the underlaying purpose? He was the same as Zephyrus had been so many years ago.

Yet there, covered in stranger’s blood and Eurus’s tears, he was in his element. He struggled to suppress the smile that threatened to surface. He planted another kiss on Eurus’s ear and forehead and lips before pushing him away gently, looking at him from close proximity, warm, smiling.

“You’ve done your share, Eurus. Now lemme do mine,” he said it like a praise. He did feel proud of his lover, his brother. Eurus had been the better one, the pure one, and then he had killed and fallen down on Zephyrus’s level. He had never loved him more.

The knife had fallen from Eurus’s trembling fingers, but Zephyrus picked it up to inspect it. It was a poor excuse of a murder weapon, but the best they had all the same. Half dried blood was hanging from the blade, stinking strongly like iron, black and sticky. He used his fingers to wipe it away.

“This is going to be so silly. Like cutting ham with a butter knife. Don’t laugh at me!” He flashed a grin over his shoulder.

It was not as difficult when the victim did not tense up and struggle. The man was still lukewarm and bleeding like a stuck pig. The blade cut flesh enough, much more effectively than a saw cut lumber, but the bones were the challenging part. The result was not pretty, he feared. Some of it was corny, even. He could remember some of Eurus’s movies that were more realistic than the scene before him.

“Baby, we need a fire. A proper funeral pyre.” He was still upset and disappointed with the man’s lack of reaction, but his sacrifice deserved a proper burial. It had to be done right. “And we need to find a way to attract as little attention as possible... Don’t they come runnin’ if they see a fire somewhere, these days?” An arm came off. How could it be that breathing, thinking, living beings could be taken apart like dolls?

[eulvs]

🍴

Send my muse an emoji and they will react to …

🍴 : your muse making mine a breakfast

Waking up is already a less likeable thing in Eurus’ life. Waking up alone is, by far, worse. Still, he stumbles half blind into the bathroom after rousing from his sleep with an empty other half of his bed. The warmth gone, he replaces it with a shower. Part of his sleep groggy mind makes up the (false) scenario that Zephyrus went to work, which is highly unlikely after his statement of no longer wanting to conform to social standards and pretend to be someone he isn’t. Still, Eurus has hope. 

The shower is sufficient to reach its purpose of warming Eurus up and waking him up fully at the same time. He feels soft when he dries up and puts on a fresh set of pyjamas (not going out today) and slips his feet into his fluffy white slippers. His way to the kitchen is not a long one, thankfully, since he is very much in need of a cup of tea. 

He finds the kitchen, and he finds Zephyrus.

And the table set.

The coin drops. Zephyrus is making breakfast. Something inside Eurus’ chest–his heart probably–swells up with affection and he feels the organ beat a little harder. It feels awfully domestic. Something Eurus can’t quite get used to, not with Zephyrus, no matter how long they’ve been living together for now. The lines are always hard set, Zephyrus is always either kin or lover, but never something in between. But there he stands, wrestling with a bowl of cracked eggs, attempting to mix them up it seems. 

He knows Zephyrus can sense him, but it doesn’t make the moment any less tender, not when he slips his arms around the taller man’s waist and nuzzles affectionately at his shoulder. When he attempts to turn around, Eurus squeezes tighter and tells him, “stay put”. Luckily, he does as he’s told.

(It’s not any reason to, but this feels like one of those times his heart beats so fast, it makes him want to cry. I love him. He thinks. I love him so much. )

[ifntsoo]

The Star Magazine November 2016 Issue © oh my infinite | do not edit/crop/remove the watermark.

[zefylus-blog1]

Would it be inmature of me to tell you that you blow me away? {Ooc love your blog buddy}

Whoa, you’re on fire today. It’s lit.

[eulvs]

This is going to haunt him for the rest of his endless life. That much, Eurus knows. He can’t beg to forget about it, can’t go to any higher deity for mercy, because it will bite him in the ass. He’d asked to disappear before, had begged to disappear and to be left alone by whoever. He had been granted permission when he openly stated what he wanted and how he wanted it, and so his killings had lasted a long time until he had been pretty sure no one would look for him anymore (he’d been wrong back then, seeing as his brother found him). That pact had been broken and he’d sworn it off. But being overlooked to do something and not being overlooked to do something is the difference between punishment and acceptance. 

Most of his other victims were nobodies. No one would miss them, as they owned nothing but money. Names that would not make it into history. This was different. This man had done nothing wrong and Eurus had no purpose for his murder. The dichotomy made sure for punishment in this specific situation. It was like being dipped in ice cold water and Eurus felt himself shaking as much as he usually did when his limbs felt colder than he wanted them to be. 

However, what he could be condemned for even further is a request made by his brother. To run with him, to erase their tracks. They would have to kill even more, but who would even know where they would be? Once the mist rises and their tracks are sealed, even Zeus himself could try and only end up failing. The request is a pretty bow wrapped gift that could either turn out to be a beautiful gift or a bomb that will explode in their face.

There’s no coming back from a decision like that.

Still, there’s not much else to do. If he begged the higher deities to forgive him, it would just end up in punishment. With circumstances like these, forgiveness is less likely to occur, close to nihil even. Thinking about it, it’s like handing himself over directly to an executioner, rather than for finding a way out of all of this. It’s not an option, not one as solid and clear as the one Zephyrus has given him. All he has to do is say yes, really. 

Of the two, Zephyrus has undeniably been the one to openly express his understanding of how they work together. There’s a force, merciless in its intent, that continuously drives them together. Eurus isn’t very well educated on how fate works, he only knows that he feels this is definitely a moment that will decide how their future together will end up becoming. On the planet nor in the heavens, there will be no physical way of hiding. The only option they really have is the one suggested to him now. 

As his brother helped him to his feet, it was the first time he saw Zephyrus both as kin and a lover at the exact same time. 

The shame of murder ripped apart the few left pieces he had of caring about their reputation, and their sinful (for this era, at least) union. Speaking wasn’t much of his strong suit right now, but as he gazed into his brother’s eyes, he held both of his hands tight and kissed him–he had certainly not forgotten about the corpse by their feet, but he elected to not care for a couple of seconds. What’s done has been done. 

However, if he–no, if they–want to do this, Zephyrus will have to dirty his hands again. “Are you sure..?” Eurus finds himself asking with a voice that doesn’t feel like his own. As broken as he is, dragging Zephyrus down with him doesn’t sound fair. “What if.. What if they catch us, what if somehow we get found? They’ll.. It’s my fault, Zephyrus, I did this. I don’t want you to get p-punished–” He has to swallow after saying the word out loud. A fresh stream of tears already burning at his eyes. “I don’t want you to get punished again.” He finishes the sentence with a whimper.

[zefylus-blog1]

Zephyrus did not doubt that Eurus had blood on his hands as well. His brother had always acted high and mightly about not having slain innocent bystanders as an act of wrath - or so it had been when they had been merely brothers, bickering, jealous, competing siblings. It had taken but a year for everything to change, for Eurus’s hubris to come crashing down as he had fallen in Zephyrus’s arms, where Zephyrus had wanted him, needed him. But even in his arrogance, Eurus had not been pure. No deity was ever pure.

But this had not been a killing of mercy or justice, a gentle hand to end pain or grant an old soul the blessing of rest. This had not been written as a fate. Even forces of nature had more sense than Eurus’s blind attack. After havoc everything would bloom, chaos was the source of rebirth, but Eurus had sown only death. There was no way around it, no excuses or half truths or white lies. Zephyrus had killed before, and now Eurus was following in his footsteps. Surely the punishment would be twice as bad as last time, to serve as a warning for the remaining potentially murderous wind deities.

The murder was something they shared now. The final thread of fate that tied their souls together for forever, like a sacrifice on a wedding day. But this thread was stolen, and no one had granted them a blessing for their union. Zephyrus wanted it that way, wanted Eurus that way. He had never cared for anything but freedom and his persona wants and gains, and now he had another excuse to live up to his reputation. If they were doomed no matter what they did, they might as well go all out.

“I’ve never been so sure in my life,” he replied, speaking straight from the heart. His mind was buzzing again. The excitement, the thrill, how ready he felt, like he was about to sprint and dash and yell in delight. “Doubt me, test me, I won’t budge. I will always be with you, Eurus.”

He took Eurus’s bloodied hands between his and kissed his knuckles. He was crying again, and the rain came streaming down, as clear as his tears. Zephyrus let it.

“I’m doomed anyway,” he replied. The cave and the buried memories had frightened him, but he felt certain as he spoke. “If they take you away from me, they are punishing me without meaning to. I might as well share your suffering as long as it takes just so I can join you after it’s done. I want to be equally broken with you, equally afraid. I want to be everything you are, Eurus, and I want you to be everything I am. We are one and the same.”

He was not sure if Eurus understood. He had always been the suspicious, rational one. But their souls spoke to each other where words failed. His heart continued where his tongue blundered.

“Baby, they won’t catch us. Not if we do this right. There is two of us now, and seven billion sheep to sacrifice on our altar.” He cupped his wet cheeks and kissed his lips again. “They are never going to get us.”

[heuss-deactivated20201101]

Heus/Zeph

I would never ever bang you, okay?

who is more likely to hurt the other? Heus. He is always up for slapping the shit out of his best friend.who is emotionally stronger? Zeph maybe. But they both are bitches. who is physically stronger? …. Heus. Probably Heus.who is more likely to break a bone? Zeph. Heus never ever breaks boners. I mean bones. Ya feel me.who knows best what to say to upset the other? Heus. He knows how to poke Zeph the wrong way. But Zeph is good at upsetting him as well.who is most likely to apologize first after an argument? None of them. Usually Eurus locks them in a room to deal with each other.who treats who’s wounds more often? Heus babysits Zeph all the damn time.who is in constant need of comfort? Heus. He is taking after him mother after all.who gets more jealous? Zeph. He is the jealousy king. who’s most likely to walk out on the other? Zeph. Or maybe Heus? They both have the ‘I need space.’ moments.who will propose? Zeph, because he is a fucking idiot. And Heus will say no just for the sake of saying no.who has the most difficult parents?……. Eurus adopted Heus so… I’ll say Heus.who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? They don’t do the holding hands thing. They wrestle with each other.who comes up for the other all the time? Both of them. Heus allways insults Zeph and vice versa, but if someone says something mean to one of them, the other will shove a stick up that person’s ass.who hogs the blankets? There is not enough space in the bedroom for them both. Too much ego on both sides. But probably Heus.who gets more sad? They don’t get sad. They usually get drunk and touchy.who is better at cheering the other up? Zeph probably. But Heus has his moments too.who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes? Zeph. Clown, like I said million times. But his jokes are never funny. who is more streetwise? Ehh not so sure. who is more wise? They are both dumb as fuck. God bless Eurus. who’s the shyest? …….. They are both hoes. x2who boasts about the other more? Probably Heus.who sits on who’s lap? Okay I have to admit Heus is sitting on Zeph’s lap 99% of the time. The lack of dick makes it comfy, okay?

[heuss-deactivated20201101]

Zeph/Eurus

Tell me again why am I doing this for you and mom?

who is more likely to hurt the other? Eurus. Mom is kinda… feisty. who is emotionally stronger? Zeph. It’s pretty easy to get mom crying.who is physically stronger? …. Zeph? Maybe?who is more likely to break a bone? Zeph. He is an idiot.who knows best what to say to upset the other? Eurus. Mom’s tongue can make a stone cry.who is most likely to apologize first after an argument? Zeph.who treats who’s wounds more often? Probably Eurus is the one taking care of Zeph. I don’t know man.who is in constant need of comfort? Eurus. Mom is a needy thing.who gets more jealous? Zeph. Come on, he killed a person out of jealousy. who’s most likely to walk out on the other? Eurus. Mom is the type to run for the hills. who will propose? Zeph.who has the most difficult parents?…….*will not talk about the fact that they are brothers* Dunno. Maybe both?who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? Zeph. Mom is the type that cares about what people think and might not do it. My bro just doesn’t care.who comes up for the other all the time? Both of them.who hogs the blankets? Probably mom. He is always cold.who gets more sad? Mom. People should stop making him cry.who is better at cheering the other up? Zeph. Cuz my bro is an idiot. Walking clown.who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes? Zeph. Clown, like I said.who is more streetwise? Ehh not so sure. who is more wise? Mom. Zeph is dumb.who’s the shyest? …….. They are both hoes.who boasts about the other more? Zeph. who sits on who’s lap? Mom is pretty much all over my bro’s lap.

[eulvs]

His finger still clutched tightly onto the blood soaked shirt of the lifeless body. There had been many times Eurus had feared looking desperate, showing such signs of weakness considered fatal. If you show one side, they’ll attack you from the other, after all. However, this was a rare moment Eurus actually felt the true, raw form of despair deeming him incapacitated mentally. All he wanted was a time machine, all he wanted was a miracle. Murder, toying with human lives, if a deity has no authority it’s a life sentence ready to be served. Yet, here he was, red handed and as guilty as he could be of a crime with punishment looming over his head like dark clouds prior to a devastating storm. 

Zephyrus’ steady arms collected him once more, yet he felt like a plate made of china, ready to break at any moment. Ironic, how he had spent nights crying before, how all those nights seemed so meaningless and small in comparison to this very moment. (Ironic, how in this case also, it was Zephyrus by his side again.) Everything else seemed to matter a little less now, a little less important and a little less serious. Nothing quite beats murder.

It was difficult, concentrating on the words spoken by his brother. Yet they did filter in. Despite the alarmed state he found himself in, coming down from his state of shock. His feet land into the safety net of reassurances from the other deity. Foolishly, he feels like he stands a chance, will manage to keep it quiet and they will live it out together and everything will be alright and okay. Even then, the sober, more rational side of him doubts something like this would go unnoticed by higher deities; deities more powerful and with the authority to lock both of them up. If they’re lucky, together. 

“They’re.. They’re going to find him, they’re going to find us.” He halts for a moment when the epiphany falls upon him. It’s not them. It’s Eurus. Zephyrus hasn’t exactly done anything wrong. Still, he’s here, and he wants to clean the mess Eurus has landed himself in. His heart has the audacity to flutter during this predicament. His eyes land on his brother’s, facing him properly for what seems a century by now. How is it that a child like Zephyrus seems so mature now? He swallows the lump in his throat down and briefly finds himself nodding when he takes a shaky breath through the tears. 

“Okay.” He finds himself saying, unsure why a calm downs over him. There’s sadness in his bone, the same sadness that roots deep in his system whenever misfortune crosses his path and leaves a scar on his of sorts. It feels much deeper now, and he feels like he’s making a pact with the devil when he brushes his cheek over Zephyrus’ shoulder and gazes into his eyes when he speaks the words that feel like a crime in itself, “Please.. get rid of it.”

[zefylus-blog1]

"They are going to find him,” Zephyrus confirmed, murmuring the words in Eurus’s hair like the sweetest of nothings. “His spirit will surely reveal its secrets sooner or later even if we destroy the body. But they are not going to find us.”

Saving Eurus by finding a way to hide him and then washing his hands clean of what had happened was not even an option. He could still run away, abandon his brother in his misery (a bitter voice inside him whispered: just like he abandoned you), play the snitch or the oblivious bystander if he so wished, but he would not, could not. His soul was tangled together with Eurus’s much like vines or roots curled together until it was unclear which part of the mess had belonged to whom. Forcing them to break apart would destroy them both, leaving scars worse than murder and the following punishment.

All he had to do was to think. Some could have argued that it was not his forte and taking action without bothering his poor mind with reason and logic would serve him better, but there was a certain advantage to having a simple mind that was often everywhere at once. When was the last time he had lost something? What had thrown his instincts off so thoroughly in all forms the had struggled to find the right direction for years at a time? The answer was simple and right in his arms, sobbing and bloody and dear.

After he had been released for good, it had taken him several years of active searching to find his brother again. Under normal conditions he could feel Eurus’s presence no matter where he went. Even on the other side of the physical world his winds would lead him to him like silver strings where his spirit was glowing, beckoning. It had taken Eurus an active effort to conceal his presence with mist that had turned him invisible for Zephyrus or anyone looking for him. There had been magic involved, powers that were not of Eurus himself, and like all magic it had faded with time, revealing bits and pieces of him here and there until Zephyrus had found him again. And like all magic, it had come with a price. Legal or illegal, other deities had not cared when Eurus had done it for the first time. This time they would.

“He is already a sacrifice,” Zephyrus finally said, still cradling Eurus in his arms, almost forgotten. “Why should we hesitate to use it to our advantage? We have already done the worst of it. Why feel redemption when gods know no mercy?” He closed his eyes and kissed Eurus’s lips. He tasted like iron and salt. “Let’s use him to hide, and then kill again, and again. They won’t catch us. And even if they do, ten or hundred thousand years won’t make a difference. Time loses meaning when you are confined, but for now we are still free. Let’s make the most of it.”

He stumbled back on his feet and offered Eurus a hand to help him up as well. He felt determined now. Thrilled even, and frightened by how alive he was. This is how it was meant to be, he realized. Only him and Eurus against the world with no room for anyone else. Attemps to blend in and conform had been for vain, rules and laws there to chain them down. Any hiding place was better than the punishment that was waiting, and nothing was as precious as his Eurus.

“And this..” He nudged the carcass with his shoe, pondering. Ahreum would finish it with her fox fires without a doubt, but in this world there was no room even for her. “Lets burn it. Our winds will help. We can leave the bones if it turns out we’re in a hurry. Souvenirs for his loved ones, if he had any.”

Zephyrus hated the man. It was his fault, all of it. Surely he had not known what was ought to happen, but without him they would not have stood there, troubled and threatened.

[geuyi]

soa stared at him as if he said the most exaggerated thing in the world. ❝zeph– i mean suspected zeph, you talk as if i gave you a paying job already. i was just asking to stock-in my groceries in the cabinet where they belong..❞ she watched the other as he does what he was requested to do. and fortunately, he was able to get the to the right places. not bad for an unknown being. there was a small smirk against her lips.

❝how is it not fair? i’ve been looking and wondering where my friend zeph is. he, no wait, you disappeared without any goodbyes. you think i’ll let that pass? absolutely not.❞ all right, she was probably already convinced that he was the zeph she knew, considering how she addressed with the name. his analogy got into her now. it was a wrong move that she used that kind of technique on her. ❝of course i’d still be angry about it because it’s my favourite. even if you brought a “better” one, i’d still be upset about the fact that you broke my favourite cup..❞ every word, she gave emphasis to them. 

❝so where did you go when you disappeared like a bubble?❞ the female turned into an investigator once again.

[zefylus-blog1]

"You’re paying with your love and trust, yo!” He actually went through the trouble to place the groceries on the counter to form a heart with his fingers. He peeked at her through them and laughed. “Greatest currency of them all. Don’t need your moneys if I can have your love.” That much was true. He could not understand money. It was not a matter of culture - his brothers were excellent when it came to financens through the eras - but of personality. If it had numbers and it was not a game, he didn’t like it.

“Eh, really? But the better cup has the same function!” he whined. “That’s kind of cute, though... You sound attached. Aight, what if I broguht you the same cup after gathering the sharp, dangerous pieces, but it’s been fixed by a pro so it’s even cooler than before. Would you still be angry?”

He made a face. It seemed like his attempt to distract her was not working.

“I went home. Met my family in Europe. ‘S where the rest of them are for now. My kin, so to speak. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t bad either. Now I’m kinda hoping to be left alone for a while since I’ve said hi and all.”

[eulvs]

The world is so vague yet clear. All gravitating towards Zephyrus. The only thing keeping him chained to reality. The experience is muck akin to having your head dunked underwater and hearing everything in a isolated manner. Seeing everything blurry (but that’s just the tears). He felt it stronger than usual. The cold that reigned the temperature of his body, how he craved for something warm, safe. It was not long after that thought he found himself in solid arms that grounded and shook him at the same time. 

A crime so horrid, Eurus felt undeniable shame crippling his ability to think sensibly in such a crucial situation. The word crime flashed in bright red letters in the front of his brain. A sin soaked in blood and shame, both which he was stained with. His hands, shaky and unstable, struggled to grasp at the shirt of his brother. Zephyrus. Warm, flower scented Zephyrus. His warmth is quite comfort in the moment he shouldn’t feel any comfort. But he does, and he wants to forget everything that happened.

Zephyrus’ words both sting and console him. 

How gentle the western wind sounded made Eurus foolishly believe that everything would be okay. Even if for one moment. (It wasn’t going to be okay, there was a storm inside of his chest that spoke for itself the way he couldn’t stop crying, but oh how he would love to believe.) His hands clutched tight to his lover, refused to let go as he struggled to breathe properly. 

Ironic, how he searched for sanity in the arms of someone who lacked it as much as he himself did. He knew very well what Zephyrus was capable of. Sometimes it haunted his late night thoughts with worry he would do something as stupid again–often reason for him to worry and attempt to nag Zephyrus into a “proper” life–and now he had fallen into the same boat. Their differences were practically diminished. 

Reality dawned in on him in frantic panic when the sickening realization of having to carry out similar punishment his brother had to appeared in his mind.

“No.” He begins, voice shaky, “No, no, no no no.” He began to yammer senselessly, sobbing louder. The moment Zephyrus had been released, Eurus had been there to catch him in his arms and he had seen what the sentence had done. How horridly cruel it was, how heavy the sentence weighed on whoever dared play with rules that were set in solid stone. And Eurus had been the next one to break the law. 

“God, please, Zephyrus, no. Oh my god, no. Please.” Did he make sense? No. But his mind wasn’t working any longer. His face pressed against a sturdy shoulder as he wept, lost and shaken and filled with power he couldn’t harbor. Oddly enough, he didn’t regret the murder itself. Oddly enough, he felt the thrill and the fulfillment it provided, yet here he was. Shaken. It was not the crime, but the punishment he feared. 

In a split moment of mental sobriety, he pushed free and dropped to his knees, saturating his clothes with crimson life. He grabbed at the cheeks of the victim, tried pressing his lips to a pair of cold ones, tried to breathe life back into the body. What usually took a minute seemed like hours. And when Eurus took his distance, he was met with nothing.

The man wasn’t coming back to life. 

Eurus wanted to cry and he was still crying. Something inside of him felt like it tore apart a little. (His heart, probably, or whatever was left of it.) He begged, begged as he shook the man’s head, begged for him to come back to life. Nothing happened. 

He tried again.

Same result. 

The cry he released was that of a child, caught breaking a vase his mom was very fond of. Only the vase was a human being and the thing that broke was a life robbed. “I don’t want to go into the cave, I don’t want to go into the cave!” He near-shrieked, hitting the motionless corpse on the chest. “Come back!” But the man didn’t. The Fates didn’t allow for it.

[zefylus-blog1]

The no no no was sobbed like a final, desperate prayer. But who would listen to the prayers of a deity? Zephyrus would have loved to say “of course not, my dear, your mind is playing tricks on you” almost as much as he wanted to murmur “oh yes, yes you did, we are the same now.” Instead, he remained silent as a compromise, knowing that no empathy or triumph could get through to Eurus in such a hysterical state of mind. He did not care for words, only his warmth and comfort that was familiar from the early days of their existence, and that much Zephyrus could provide even midst chaos. He had held him dozens and dozens of times when he had been freezing and sobbing and fragile in his arms.

“Eurus...”

His brother dropped to his knees and bathed in fresh blood to save his victim with a breath of life. Zephyrus did not want him to kiss him, not even to save him and to reverse what had been done. He did not want his mouth on some filthy bag of meat and blood and hair and shit. Perhaps it was because he knew it was for naught; what had been taken illegally could not be given back by normal means. Or perhaps it was because Eurus’s kisses and breaths and tears were his, in death or life or in a state in between. He curled his fingers in his fists, clenching his jaw.

“It won’t work,” he said gently, kneeling down on the slippery. blood coated ground to pull Eurus away from the mutilated corpse, back in his arms where he belonged. The stranger’s eyes were still open and his once clean skin and clothes were soaked with red. He had one hand on his stomach, covering one or two of the holes Eurus had poked in him, but his other arm was spread open, with the fingers twisted in an unnatural way.  It was grotesque but hardly frightening. Zephyrus kicked the arm away for the second time to make room for just him and his lover.

“Stop it, baby. It’s been done,” he murmured in his ear, holding him close like he was cradling a scared child. “Let him go. It’s been done.” He kissed his ear and his temple, embracing him tightly so he would not struggle his way free. Eurus would always calm down eventually, and his tears would dry up. All Zephyrus had to do was to hold him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. “I won’t let them separate us. I’ll slice him up and throw the pieces in the ocean or leave them to wild animals if that’s what it takes. I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me. They can’t have you, can’t have us.” It was easy to promise even though he did not know the way. He was the sober one, the reliable one, and he had been through the same before. This time he would not be taken aback.  He cupped Eurus’s cheeks and made him look at him. “I love you.” Fuck, he really did. So much he was about to burst. “I love you so much. They can’t have us. I won’t let them.”

[oskolkivgrudi]