#taking some creative liberties with the winter break!!

[ricciardo133]

January 2025

maxiel, feeding, body worship, weight gain, wags & retirement briefly alluded to, passing food mouth to mouth

-

Daniel's apartment is barren. As they pop in after padel, Max opens and closes pantry doors in the kitchen with a growing dismay. He already thinks Daniel's flat is a bit depressing, but the only thing edible being a box of protein bars makes it worse.

"Mate, you deserve better. This is awful."

Daniel looks up from his spot on the nearby sofa, his big brown eyes wide and searching. He shifts in his oversized sweater and atypically baggy sweatpants. Max was kind of hoping to see his legs in a guilty, quiet perversion when Daniel invited him out for padel. Sadly, Max fears Daniel may have fallen prey to whatever trend cursed Leclerc. Since he came back from Perth for an extended visit in his own apartment, he's worn only the boxiest of outfits.

Daniel looks confused for a moment until the realization makes his lips part in a soft 'oh.'

"Ah, the pantry. Yeah, we can get take away if you're peckish." Max waves his hand as he pulls out his cell phone.

"If you're going to be in this hemisphere for a while, you need more than just leftover pizza. I'm buying you groceries."

"Ah, Verstappen, you've really grown up. So mature, I'm so proud." Daniel wipes away a fake tear. "The dad life really does suit you. Have you been called a 'dilf' yet?"

Max shakes his head, both at the question and to dispel the small thought that was like an ever-present, hot pink post-it note pinned on the corkboard of his mind. Kelly and him both have their hall-pass, their one exception, if the situation ever arises. His is Daniel. The situation hasn't arose. He's tempted to joke about it as he throws groceries into his virtual cart, but there's no casual way to say he would do anything for Daniel, anytime, anywhere, any way he wanted and had felt that way for years. He hopes he can somehow convey it through an impending delivery of baguettes and cheese instead.

Daniel and him toss a padel ball back and forth as they sit on the sofa and wait out the delivery. Daniel is describing some top-secret wine business plans and laughing about how the bottom of a wine bottle is truly called a 'punt' as the doorbell rings. Max pops up and brings in the lot of paper bags.

"Jesus, Max," Daniel laughs. "I'm not wasting away. Kind of the opposite lately. This is too much."

"Humor me," Max says as he already is putting the cold items into the fridge. "And start boiling some water."

Max wouldn't have done this for himself, but he feels compelled to with Daniel. They talk motocross as they trial and error their way into plated fettuccine and garlic bread with a few donut-hole-sized arancini balls. Those, at least, came pre-made.

Daniel holds his phone over the finished product as they sit on the sofa.

"Pic for the 'gram?" Max asks. Daniel shakes his head.

"I'm off the grid, Maxy. I'm not resurfacing til I'm photo ready."

"You're always photo ready," Max says, now his turned to stare in confusion.

"Put those big old eyes away," Daniel says, gently wacking his shoulder. "Don't act like it's not obvious what's a bit...off here."

"What is?" Daniel gives him a withering look. "What, Daniel. I can't read your mind."

"Be serious."

"I am being serious. What's wrong?"

"That you're the actual father here and I'm the one with the dad bod." Daniel shimmies out of his sweatshirt. Max has to mentally stifle the flare of elated horniness, strategically covering his lap with his plate as he eyes a fantastic sliver of Daniel's flesh at his waist where his shirt rides a bit high on his middle.

He has gained weight. Daniel was always so slim, all angles and lean limbs save for the curve of his hips that Max had fully memorized. Now he actually seemed to fill out his hips even more. Daniel shifts in his spot, thicker thighs pulling the joggers taught. A curve of new love handles peek over the waistband, soft and swooping up to a small, round belly. Daniel's hands hold it on either side, giving his middle a gentle shake and making the skin-tight shirt ride up even higher. Max can't help but look up at his softer tits and full forearms and a red hue under Daniel's fuller cheeks.

"I hadn't noticed," Max says earnestly. "You've been wearing the Charles special in the outfit department."

"Intentionally, on account of all this," Daniel says, waving over himself. "Just...it was nice to kind of...let loose? Not go ham or anything, but y'know. Silver lining of just being able to chill out and drink during a game. Eating whenever. It's bad."

"No, it's good." Max shakes his head. "You deserve that. I'll do that too, when I'm-," he pauses. He doesn't want to say 'retire' and instead sits up straighter on the sofa. "When I'm on winter break, you know."

"Yeah, but you somehow always work it off. I've never been...like this big before."

Max feels his cock start to betray him as Daniel feels up his middle again, fingers dragging along smooth, tan skin. He's never seen Daniel without the narrowest, flattest stomach, but now he looks so full and vital. He feels that carnal, similar thrill of seeing Kelly a few months along. Daniel looks so alive.

Max leans in. "It is good. If you're living life and being happy, then that's good."

"Maybe. You just always carry it well, like," Daniel makes a face, as if he caught himself. "Ah, well, you know. You always look good."

"Oh, thank you." Max wonders if Daniel has a hall pass. He wonders if he has one for Max. He drop kicks the thought out of his head. "It'll get cold," he says instead, gesturing to the forgotten plate of pasta.

"Right," Daniel says in an exhale. "Right, yeah, can't waste good Italian. Let me try some."

Before he can stop himself, Max is spinning fettuccine around his fork and holding it up to Daniel. Stroopwaffles and memories as Daniel leans in and bites it off Max's fork.

Max stares at Daniel, unblinking. Daniel's lips are glossy. The fresh smell of herbs is cut through with the tang of their unshowered post-padel clothes and making Max's head spin. He twists another bite and offers it. Daniel takes it.

"That's good, Daniel."

Daniel makes a small noise, swallowing and glancing up and away. "Is it?"

"It is." Max sets the plate down on the coffee table, tears off a hunk of garlic bread, and sits back up. Max closes the distance between them as he hands it to Daniel. "Eat." He does. Max isn't sure if Daniel intends to be so maddening sensual as he licks off the glaze of butter and slides it into his wet mouth. Max wants to swear. He wants to pounce. He wants to feed him again and caress his cheek and take care of Daniel like no one ever has before. He grips his knees and feels everything condense like a dying star inside his chest.

"Max," Daniel says. "Sorry, I'm kind of, Jesus. I'm a bit wired right now." His brows narrow, lip bitten. "It feels good. When you do that, I like it. Sorry, it's weird-,"

"It's not weird."

"You like feeding your mates?"

"I like feeding you."

Daniel's eyes are filled with shifting constellations. Max leans even closer.

"I like...making you feel good, Daniel."

"Max."

"Can I," Max looks down at his stomach, hand hesitating in the air above his skin. "I know, it's maybe too much. I can stop."

"No, Jesus Christ, Max. Don't stop."

Daniel closes the distance, tenderly ushering Max's the final few inches to rest on his belly. Max bites his lip, hands drifting along his full weight and caressing the circumference of it. Daniel's hips tremble as Max holds it and gives it a gentle shake. He draws invisible tracks along his body. Pushing his shirt up, Max slips his hands under the fabric and cups Daniel's tits.

"Max," Daniel breathes.

"Are you going to get bigger for me, Daniel?"

"Yes." Max squeezes his breasts, feeling their pliable give.

"Is this good?"

"Yes," Daniel breathes. Another harder squeeze, fingers pinching hardening nipples. "Christ, yes, Max." He chokes on a sob. "I don't know what's happening to me, why this is so fucking hot but just don't stop, Max. Please don't stop."

Max leans up to straddle Daniel's waist, mental restraints dissolved as the dying star falls in on itself and explodes outward, vaporizing everything inside him with raw need.

His hands slip out and then up to cup Daniel's neck, feeling Daniel's pulse throb under his skin. Daniel's eyes leak, and Max licks the salty bead of water off his cheekbone. Max feels he could lick every inch of him clean, eager to care, eager to please. Daniel whines as Max gets up for a moment. He picks up one of the small arancini balls and sits back on Daniel's lap.

The moment is taught, soaked with uncertainty and heat. Max copies Daniel, licking the sweet surface in a languid pull before putting it in his own mouth. He doesn't bite down but holds it gently not to crush it as he cocks Daniel's head with his hands. Daniel closes the distance, mouth opening to meet his as Max pushes with his tongue to guide the smooth, damp orb into Daniel's mouth.

Max kisses along his cheeks as Daniel chews and swallows. He feels dizzy and nearly throbbing over with life and need. It feels too intimate, despite it all, to kiss him.

"It's okay," Daniel says, as if reading his mind. Now it's Daniel's turn to guide Max's face to his. "Unless I'm being a major home-wrecker right now."

"Oh, no. I, um, I have a hall pass."

Daniel laughs, eyes crinkling in mirth. "Really? For me? That's funny."

"Why?"

"You've been mine," Daniel looks off, "for like, an embarrassingly long time."

"Oh. Same." Nothing more eloquent is coming out when Daniel squirms and brushes against his hard length. "Oh, God."

"And you still want to use that hall pass now? I've been hotter for years and now you're letting me in on this?"

"You're hot then and now, Daniel. Especially now." He groans as Daniel grinds up again. "You're so stunning. Your body, Daniel. I love how you are right now. So alive and full and I-" A sharp curse and groan as Daniel pulls Max's hips down to his for another, harder bought of friction through too many layers of clothes. "Daniel."

"Thanks for making me feel good, Maxy. For taking care of me. I might," he breaths a smaller laugh, soft and quiet, "I may need this more than just now."

"Anytime. Daniel, I'll always take care of you."

Daniel's hands guide Max into his lips. It's bliss and sweet to the taste.

"Then let me take care of you, too," Daniel says. His hand slips lower, stroking along Max's length. Max gives in, scattered star dust in his chest making him feel shimmery and endless as he melts into Daniel's embrace.

[musicalmoritz]

On average how long does it take you to write a fic? I see you post pretty often on ao3 so I was just wondering if you had any tips to write faster? you make it seem so effortless lol/pos

I must confess, I’ve been procrastinating on finishing a fic for a few weeks now…nonetheless I do have some tips!

So the brutal truth here is that when I really want to get something written I don’t sleep LMAO. Usually I’ll stay up until 4:00 AM writing, but I haven’t been able to do that lately because I’ve been trying to prioritize a healthy sleep schedule. It’s better to start writing early so you don’t stay up half the night, that can actually make things more difficult as after a certain hour your brain will just shut off (at least that’s what happens for me)

The length it takes me to write a fic depends on the type of fic, if it’s 3-4K I can usually knock it out in a day or two, unless I’ve been putting it off. If it’s 9-12k it takes me a couple of days, though I have written fics that length in one sitting before. Again, I do crazy work between the hours of 8:00 PM and 4:00 AM. If it’s anything near 20k it usually takes me a few months, especially if I have a lot going on irl at the time. My longest fic was 52k and I pretty much wrote that through the winter. Right now I’m working on one that’s meant to end at around 15k and I already have 12k of it written, but I ramble so it might come out a bit longer

Okay now onto actual productive tips. In my experience, the best way to write a lot is literally just to spill all your thoughts onto the page. Yap like your life depends on it. If I’m writing the character experiencing something I have a lot of opinions on, I’ll spend several paragraphs just talking about that. Some of my best and longest fics come from me straight up venting into a Google Doc. It’s like a diary except no one can tell how much is the character’s pov and how much is me working out my own problems. If you think you ranted too much, you can always go back and delete some later

It’s also good to try and always be writing. One of my Mitsukou fics was written almost entirely between breaks at work. I bring my computer with me if I’m going somewhere over night. I’ll write while I’m waiting for a class to start, and in between classes- especially if I have a long break. I write a paragraph or two on the toilet sometimes. And also be thinking about the characters a lot, I’m hyperfixated on tbhk rn so these little losers are always on my mind; so when I sit down to write, I’ve already written most of the fic in my head. Share your own headcanons and analysis, people love reading that stuff. Don’t be afraid to get creative and take a few liberties, most readers are subconsciously longing for new things in their fics

Also don’t stress yourself out too much about what you post! Fanfic is best when it’s written for your own enjoyment above anyone else’s. Sometimes I get too caught up in what other people will think of my fics and forget I have total control over everything I write. If you worry too much about making your work “perfect,” you’ll never want to write. Make yourself your main target audience, it makes the process way more fun

I hope some of this helped you!! Thank you for your ask, this gave me the motivation to work on my wip. I’m also currently writing fics for every day of Aoinene Week so it’s been busy. A good fic playlist also helps, it helps you better envision the world you’re writing. Recently I’ve been basing my fics off specific music artists which gets me really invested. Happy writing :)

[awesomesaucem]

My Tallest

Dib Membrane X Invader Zim

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,432

Warnings: Sexual content and mildly dubious consent.

Other Tags: Blow Jobs, Power Dynamics, Dom/sub, Master/Servant, Angst

Summary:  It’s Summer. Normally this meant Zim wasn’t quite as angry at the world, but this summer’s heat was particularly unforgiving. Sticky and miserable, he contemplates his place in the world since his long abandoned mission leaves him feeling empty. What else is there to do but look for a sense of purpose?

Read it on AO3!

A/n: Here’s my shameful idea I’ve had for a while now since I’m still rusty with writing and a total newbie when it comes to writing smut. I have a bunch of one shots planned for a bunch of fandoms that I think would be great practice for my slow burn. I tried to keep things close to the canon with my own little creative liberties. Takes place way after the show so both boys are adults and Zim has not-quite-defected from the Tallests. More like was abandoned and doesn’t know what to do other than assimilate into human culture. Enjoy!

Usually summer was Zim’s favorite out of all of the stupid earth seasons. Spring was always so wet and disgusting with new pollen coating everything and a thin layer of yellow grime that made him sneeze for days. Winter just made the whole planet sleepy. Humans somehow didn’t inherit the ability to hibernate alongside their mammalian counterparts – actually it seemed almost all animals in earth's nature slept for the winter months, except for humans. Unfortunately for him, that meant he was forced to spend the same insufferable months indoors. Any task outside would leave him half-frozen and trapped with a dozen humans in whatever errand demanded his attention. GIR and his circuits loved the snow. The powdery flourish that rained down from the clouds always got a more illicit reaction than their warmer counterparts. It was always a struggle to drag him back inside but at least the cold did him some good. Fall was tolerable. Summer heat paved the way for hayrides and Halloween when they would run around hoping to scare each other intentionally either from works of fiction or simply screaming in each other's faces. It was nice for Zim to take a break from it for a change. These were all acceptable. The bitter winds that would cut through with no warning and chilling him to the bone only to vanish suddenly as it appeared, were not.

Most of earth's weather came and left without any sort of reason. Location mattered most of the time-down to even states and provinces deferring in climate, but it rarely obeyed the rules humans made themselves. The heat was biting long before the calendar said it was ever time, and Zim learned from all his years spent on the pathetic rock that it would stay long after the next season was falsely announced. Even summer, Zim’s favorite among the seasons, had its faults. The insects he once hoped to relate to became most insufferable. Wasps, ants, and mosquitoes seemed to target him especially no matter the crowd or repellent almost as if they saw him as a threat. Maybe they did. Zim could be very threatening.

Today, however, he did not care very much for summer. Usually content in taking GIR for a walk or sightseeing, he was rewarded with suffocating humidity that left him sticky and sweating with no hope of relief. With the air conditioning as high as it would go and every fan in the house turned directly to him, he dozed on the sofa fanning himself. The heat almost stole his energy as even the lazy flicking of his wrist tired him out. Maybe his brain was slowly cooking. He’ll accept anything to get out of this heat. GIR somehow didn’t seem to notice the misery and was fairly content making noises into the box fan sending mushy chips and cheese breath directly into Zim’s face.

“GIR, can you find literally anything else to do right now?” He begged, not even able to turn his head to the side and speak to him directly.

The only response he received was GIR chanting “wawawa“ in various pitches and giggling at the distortion caused by the spinning blades.

He opened his mouth to spout yet another pathetic plea to his servant, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing from where it was wedged in between the cushions. Cursing, he scrambled to retrieve it from the prison followed by crumbs of every kind. God, how long has that stuff been here? He really needed to clean this thing more often. Not even bothering to look at the screen, he answered-only one human had this number after all.

“Greetings, Dib – stink,” he groaned.

“Get dressed, I’m at the pool!” Was loudly heard over the joyous laughter and splashing of the town’s children enjoying their summer. Disgusting.

“Why would I do that, pig?” With shut eyes, he questioned. A bead of sweat reached his temple.

“Because it’s hot as balls out today?” Correct. “And the heat index is 107.”  Ugh. It was 102 this morning. “Plus you’re bored so hurry up!”

“You don’t know that. I could be busy, you know!” Flecks of mechanical fluids fluttered out from the fan. Looking at him just made him spit harder. “Very, very busy.” A particularly shrill scream followed by a splash sent Zim’s phone away from his antenna, which was admittedly difficult. All this sweating made the perfect substance to plaster the screen to the side of his face. He grimaced and wiped it on his shirt before holding it just above his cheek. 

“– here already!” Dib shouted over the line.

“What?”

“I said hurry up and get here already!”

The line clicked and the call ended. The smeet hung up! Elongating his spine and reaching out with all limbs to cat stretch he let out a frustrated groan, then swung his legs over the side of the sofa to free himself to stand.

“GIR, put on your disguise. I guess we’re going swimming.”

“Oh wahawa,” sang GIR.

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The city pool was somehow even more crowded than it sounded over the phone. So many humans packed into one place with damp children everywhere you go with Dorito fingers and juice-stained faces. If this was anyone’s idea of fun, they should babysit GIR who loved the pool for that exact reason. Unfortunately, the chlorine messed with his sensors and he kept getting stuck in the jets. Then the city started enforcing their “no dogs” policy-not that they actually followed their stupid rules. Management didn’t understand GIR was much safer here than home alone. Unsupervised. He suppressed a shudder. Zim hated swimming now even more than he did as a smeet back when he was forced to learn as part of his intense military training. Of course water wasn’t used, but something about flailing in a glorified bath with a bunch of strangers just didn’t sound appealing to him. He still managed to pass that portion, just barely, during training. His awkward bobbing-turned-breast stroke only served to keep him from drowning in emergencies and his commander was feeling particularly forgiving that day. Human school wasn’t that much different if he thought about it. At least as a smeet, his arrogance blinded him to the ridicule of his classmates. High school was kinder in the sense he could blend in more. It was more forgiving to his pride than it was to stand out. No longer an awkward teen, he blossomed into an even more awkward adult. At least he was quieter now. 

Dib, however, flourished. His hyperactivity in his boyhood afforded him the energy to seek out a physical outlet. Since Zim’s mission was dismissed, he was no longer a threat to Earth; no longer something to waste time on. Now by day he was a personal trainer and even started his own paranormal investigative podcast. It actually was decently popular – he even had merch with his smug little logo on it. It was pathetic really, but Dib would never know of the T-shirt hiding in the back of Zim’s closet. 

“Zim!” Called a voice somewhere in the sea of people. Squinting, he could just barely make out Dib standing and flailing his arms around. His continued annoyance started to attract attention as everyone here wondered just who this psychopath was. Zim raced over quickly, stepping over pool goers and trying not to slip on the wet concrete until eventually he reached the offender to clamp a hand tightly around his mouth.

“Cease and desist, you cretin!” He hissed. “I did what you asked. Why must you humiliate me in the process?”

Dib laughed as if Zim told a joke which is odd, because he did not. “Lighten up, Zim. It’s summer vacation!” He exclaimed, prying the hand away. Reaching behind him, Dib pulled a can of some beverage and handed it to him. While he didn’t care much for carbonated drinks, alcohol or otherwise, ice clung to the aluminum, providing him some relief from the bitter heat.

“Why is it called summer vacation if the only thing different is the weather?” He asked no one in particular. “I mean you aren’t in school right? What vacation is there to be had? And why not acknowledge the vacations taken in other seasons for that matter?” Dib’s friends all stared at him. Someone might have coughed. For a moment, Zim was the new kid again weaving through much taller crowds trying to pretend to be human. Pretending to be likable; to blend in unsuccessfully. But Dib smiled.

“You’re right, it’s just a day at the pool. But that can be a kind of vacation too, right?”

Grumbling in response, he cracked open the mystery can and tossed back a swig without so much as a glance to the label. Expecting some shitty light beer or seltzer, he was surprised to be drinking some kind of fruity canned cocktail. It was definitely alcoholic, but pleasantly sweet. There was no complaint to be had. In no time at all, he had crushed several of the provided beverages favoring the ‘strawberry-a-rita’ flavor. Whatever that was. He wouldn’t even have registered the time if not for an alarm on his phone reminding him to reapply his skin paste. It took some time to develop it, but he was proud of himself for once. Something that protected him against the sun's harsh rays as well as creating a thin, yet sturdy, hydrophobic layer. To others, it appeared he was just using regular human sunblock. He honestly didn’t even need to reup since he was still firmly seated outside of the water, but he would rather be greasy than literally melting away if he did eventually decide to get in. 

“Zim’s got the right idea,” Dib observed rather loudly from the water, directing everyone’s attention his way once again. “No melanoma for him.” Dib wasn’t one to think too much about his own skin care, but his clients had children who frequented the neighborhood pool and he had to set a good example. 

Wiping the residue on his trunks, he sneered and dipped back into the cooler to retrieve another can ignoring the hoots and whistles clamoring from the pool. They all seemed to be loudly reacting to Dib who must have emerged from the surface. Peeking up, he saw the water and sweat alike that shimmered like fractured light on his dusky skin revealing sinewy muscles that peered through the streams. Zim’s can hissed at the claw sliding to pop its tab.  Further splashing and laughter faded to the back of his mind as the plat plat of Dib’s sodden feet drew nearer. 

“That’s your third one,” he whispered, nodding at the collection of empties on the table.

“You’re counting my drinks? I thought this was ‘Summer Vacation’, was it not?”

“No, nothing like that, I’m just glad you like them. It was between those or Ranch Waters, but I know you don’t like tequila.” 

Zim scrunched his nose. He did not. “It is an adequate poolside beverage,” he muttered into his can.

“Membrane!” Shrieked the lifeguard, pulling them out of their bubble.  “How many times do I have to tell you!” 

The boys followed her pointed gaze as well as that of almost everyone on the South end of the pool. It seemed GIR had found the jets again. 

Dib huffed an annoyed sigh. “And how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my dog?” He shouted across the water, looking expectantly toward Zim who was deflating as the moments went on. 

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The walk to Dibs house was surprisingly comfortable given the circumstances. GIR was rebooting just as he did every other time he’d gotten into too many chemicals and eventually kicked out for the day. That dumb robot never learned. Between the two of them, they reached Dib’s house without a thought, simply walking and talking about nothing in particular and halfway there they took turns carrying (aka dragging) the unconscious bot. Dib was the one to plop him down on the living room couch before heading upstairs to change with Zim following close behind. All things considered, they were each other’s oldest friends which made any amount of self consciousness shrivel up years ago. Even if they didn’t have all six years of gym class together, Zim still spent most Summers on the Membrane couch. Sleeping alone in an empty house got old a lot quicker than he thought. He took his usual perch on his flaking leather desk chair while Dib changed out of his trunks and into a pair of faded blue jeans; both pairs of shoes and socks lay forgotten at the door along with Zim’s wig. Somehow the topic of conversation escalated to whatever diminutive little projects they each had going on. Dib was more than eager to ramble on and on about the latest pre-workout flavor his gym had stocked up on recently. Something or other with berries. Zim wasn’t really paying attention. But then it was his turn in conversation. 

“What about you, Zim?” Dib questioned. “Anything crazy planned for this year?”

“Not really,” Zim answered, occupying himself with the various posters on the wall. Some things really do not change. “Not anymore.” 

He cringed and wished he could retract the words as soon as they left his mouth. Irk was an unspoken off-limits topic between the two of them. Don’t ask, don’t tell as they say. It was just one of those things. Dib knew it was a sore subject, but other than the childish fights they had as kids, he didn’t know much about it as a whole other than his juvenile energy was wasted on it. Years spent chasing and planning used up on a mission that would never come to fruition. After Zim had finally (finally) given up on taking over Earth, he was lost. Without Zim, Dib could redirect his efforts to something more productive. Without Irk, Zim was nothing.

“So what was it like?” Dib pondered aloud, ignoring the inarticulate rule.  They both knew exactly what he meant. 

Zim fiddled with his hoodie strings. “Which part?”

“Oh, all of it I guess. How did it feel to be a part of something bigger than yourself?” Wow. What a question. The Irken Armada was something he thought about every waking moment. He was programmed to. His very reason for being was thanks to his Tallests. Every breath was a gift for the Armada. Every day a reward and a privilege. Existing for the Tallests transcended human emotion; it transcended words. It was unlike anything he could’ve experienced or hoped to experience again. Zim told him this much.

“After a while, you learn you never really were meant to be an individual. Your wants and needs were irrelevant as an Irken. You just become part of the collective,” he stated.

Dib coughed uncomfortably.

“That’s, er, disturbing,” he offered, laughing; sobering up quickly in the silence that followed. “So your whole life has been for someone else?”

“Yes.”

“That's just so horrible! You basically worshiped these people!”

“Yes.” He echoed, looking up with solemn eyes. “The Tallests gave us life, a purpose. Every Irken was sworn to them.” 

“So like,” Dib struggled to understand. “They have omniscience? They literally create life?”

 Zim’s synthetic eyebrows furrowed.

“No, they would put in a request at the smeetery for a number of soldiers,” he thought. “Actually they would put in an order for the request.”

“So someone else did it?” He squished the last drops of water from his hair as he listened. 

“After they were ordered by a Tallest, yes.”

“But then they train the armies then? Or supervised the plans?”

“No, that’s what the generals and war technicians were for.” He huffed with the same air of condescension he would have if he were explaining how a block fits in a square-shaped hole.

“Did they do anything directly?”

“Oh, yes!” His eyes lit up with a distant admiration. “We were allowed to worship them freely and bring them gifts from our missions. Uhm, I was allowed to stand next to them once. It was truly one of the greatest moments of my life.” 

Dib snorted. “Wait, just standing next to your leader, who doesn’t even do anything, was the greatest moment of your life?” He laughed.

“No, I said it was one of the greatest.” He brought up a knee to hug to his chest. “And my Almighty Tallests did plenty. I owe them everything I am.”

Dib couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He always thought of the Irkens as some intense dictatorship but this was more like religion. A cult really. He stood to look at Zim directly.

“You do realize how crazy that sounds right? You’re totally brainwashed.” Zim stood to meet him.

“I am not! The Tallests are the smartest and greatest Irkens which is why they are more than fit to rule!“

“And what makes them so great huh? How did they end up in charge?“

“Well t-they,“ he stammered.

“You really can’t say? Don’t tell me it’s because they’re literally the tallest Irkens.”

He was met with silence.

“Oh my God, you leave leadership up to a height lottery.”

Zim spoke flatly and sternly, almost dangerously offended. “Height among Irken elites is a sign of status. Something akin to your human intelligence quotient points.”

“Well, how tall are these Irken elites? Maybe I could be your ruler, Zim.” Dib puffed his chest and straightened his back. Stepping closer, he towered over him.

“You could never!” Zim spat as he struggled to take in the epic size of the human in front of him. As kids, only Dib's hair gave him a slight height advantage, but now he had a good foot on Zim who’s mouth suddenly had gone dry. “There is more to Irken leadership than height,” he grumbled, standing down and diverting his gaze. Dib, of course, was loving this.

“No really!” He laughed. “How much taller do I have to be to allow you to worship me?” It was meant as a joke. Yet the thoughts being forced into his head were anything but funny. After a beat, Zim genuinely humored him. 

“Since I am no longer a member of the Armada, as horrible as it is, I no longer answer to the Tallests.” He slowly circled Dib, considering his stature among other things. “That being said, you are currently the tallest being I know, so,” he thought, shifting on his toes. “Your current height is sufficient.” 

“Oh my god, really? That’s all it takes?” Dib’s hands went to his hair in disbelief. “Oh man, think of the stupid little rivalry we had before. I just needed to be taller than you!”

“Not taller,” Zim corrected. “Tallest.” Still reeling, giddy, Dib wasn’t paying attention.

“Sorry Zim. I can’t hear you from all the way up here. You’re going to have to speak up,” he snarked, bristling past Zim. 

“Tallest!” He whimpered loudly, casting the room in a blanket of stunned silence. Both boys stared, a flush of muted pink dusting their cheeks.

“I was just kidding, man,” Dib sat down on the bed, taking his turn to look up at the Irken. “I don’t want to rule you, we’re friends.”

“You joke about my reason for life, Dib-filth . You asked a question and I answered. That’s how your stupid human conversations work, right?” His embarrassment quickly turned to anger as he shot his eyes up in defiance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know–didn’t mean.” He couldn’t find the words, but Zim wouldn’t let him escape so easily. He strode forward to crowd Dib’s space, throwing his hands to the comforter with Dib right in between.

“You didn’t know what, pig? You’ve had 25 stinking, inferior Earth cycles to know exactly what you mean.” Wide-eyed, Dib watched as Zim sunk to the floor at his feet with an impassioned sort of glint in his eyes that was terrifying yet incredibly alluring. This was a look Zim only wore in Dib’s wildest fantasies. One he wasn’t sure was even physically possible for him to wear.

“Then what are you-”

“Silence, you pathetically tall worm. You wanted to know what it takes to rule over Zim and now that you’ve found it, you aren’t satisfied?” He rubbed his cheek on Dib’s knee like a cat marking its scent. “As you stupid humans like to say,” He leaned just enough to eliminate the remaining existing space, forcing Dib to spread his knees further. “You've opened this can of worms, human. Now it’s your turn to lie in it.”

“That’s not – Zim seriously, I was just playing,” Dib stammered, turning a satisfying shade of red as Zim dipped down between his thighs and feigned a gasp of understanding.

“You were playing? Then let’s play, oh Tallest Dib.” His antennae explored to taste the air between them causing him to scoff. “Lie to me if you must. But I promise your pheromones don’t have that luxury.” He pressed further. The liquor-loosened tongue came out of hiding to trace just the hint of outline of Dib’s stiffening cock; a trail of saliva dampening the denim there. Dib flinched. 

“Zim-ah! We don’t have to do this, you don’t actually…” he trails off, mesmerized by the absolute filthy show Zim was putting on nuzzling his half-hard cock in his jeans like it was the only thing he’d ever want. Dib gripped the sheets half terrified and the most turned on he's ever been in his life. 

“Dib,” he groaned, peering up at the human with utter fire. “Soldiers have either succumbed to war or ended their own miserable lives from their Tallests’ absence. Service and loyalty is what I was bred to do and if nothing else,” Dib shivered at the hot breath between his thighs. “I was damn good at it.” 

“What are you trying to say?” He panted. “For now, you are my Tallest.” Dib watched his tongue dart out once again to wet his lips. “That means you tell me what to do. Please.” The waver in his voice affected Dib more than he was comfortable with. Childhood nemesis turned friend and now whatever this was? How would this even work? Alien biology aside, this was horribly wrong and he needs to stop this now before it gets even further out of hand. If it wasn’t too late already. If Zim wanted this half as bad as he was implying, Dib had zero control over the situation, service programming be damned. Dib might be the “Tallest” or whatever, but he knew Zim held all the cards. They both knew. It all came down to who would crack first and Dib had an idea that it would be himself. Trying to formulate a plan became increasingly difficult with the insisting presence at his groin. He can’t say he didn’t try. 

“Z-Zim are you- fuck.” A particularly languid lick with the flat of his tongue broke his concentration. Against his will, Dib was now fully hard and far too gone to stop it. 

“You know, for a Tallest you're not very smart.” He replaced his tongue with his much firmer hands that gripped and squeezed overtop the fabric pulling a shaking whine from his throat. “You act like you don’t want this.” Dib’s hips bucked and stuttered at Zim’s meager ministrations. “You’re already falling apart, look at you!” He laughed. “On Irk you would be the superior mind. Strong willed enough to lead armies who would never give your word a second thought. Mindless obedience at your command, Dib. What will you do with it?”

Dib felt like he was losing his mind. Never in his life did he think he’d ever see Zim on his knees speaking such filthy things. He was barely touching him but here he was; hardly able to string enough words together to form a coherent sentence.

“What will you do?” He repeated. Zims own cheeks were dusted a pink almost as pretty as his words. Together they sat in a sort of silence just considering each other. Zims gaze was unfaltering and Dib finally realized he was expecting an actual answer. He could end this if he wanted. Just a few strong words would put this whole obscure moment behind them. Zim would listen to whatever he said, do whatever he wanted. So what did he want? His confidence found him when he spoke. 

“If you're going to do this, you’re going to do it right.” He releases his white knuckled grip on the sheets and with mindful hands, undoes the fly of his jeans. Zim’s own hands are heedlessly shoved to the side as Dib carefully pulls his cock, angry and blushing, from his boxers to settle directly in his face. Wide eyed, Zim stared up in disbelief but acceptance at both boys seemingly calling each other’s bluffs. “This is what you wanted, right?” He gave himself a few strokes. “To serve? To please?” 

Zim could only nod and stare. 

“Then get on with it. Open up, soldier.”

Obeying, Zim showed off his glistening tongue, sticking out on display along with his blunted teeth. The tint to his cheeks deepened as he opened his mouth wide. He peered up with a look that would appear to anyone else as obedience, but Dib knew better. He was quite familiar with this look. Hiding behind obedience, Dib could make out the barest hint of defiance. Of a challenge. Even in this moment of vulnerability, between the two of them there was a shred of uncertainty. Pushing past his reservations, he fit his fully hard cock against his tongue, giving it a few taps for good measure. 

“You want to serve? You want to be good?”

Zims only response was a hot, breathy moan through his open mouth. 

“Then prove it.”

The last of his resolve crumbled as Zim surged forward enveloping Dib in his mouth; tongue gliding against the hardened flesh. Dib couldn’t help but reach out and shove his head down even further earning him a satisfying choke. Not to be outdone, Zim buried his nose in the dark tuft of hair in front of him and swallowed. 

Bottoming out in Zim’s tight throat, Dib was reduced to a stuttering mess. His canting hips lurched up into the pleasure consuming him as Zim licked and sucked in earnest. The soft keening moans and wet slurping were the only sounds to be heard before Dib had enough. Zim was enjoying this far too much. Roughly, he tore him off with an obscene pop! while they both struggled to catch their breath and his thumb reached out to mop up the string of dribble that clung to his lip. 

“You’re getting sloppy,” he said, stroking himself much easier with the copious amount of slobber Zim insisted on tossing around. 

“‘M sorry,” Zim panted beneath him, following each movement with rapid fascination and splaying his palms flat to his thighs.

“No you aren’t,” he nudged his hips forward into the silken heat before him. Zim had the courtesy to take his time, to savor his instruction. Gently, he urged the head past his swollen lips with a far too generous tongue.  Kitten-licking  proved faultless as he lapped at it, earning a breathless noise from above. Sucking and benevolent, he resumed. With no hands and more intention he hollowed his cheeks and sank down further engulfing him in incandescence. Zim focused on his breathing more than anything. As long as he could keep his throat from spasming, things should be enjoyable for the both of them. The shameless moans and huffs did little to remind him of his task at hand, however. As much as he’d hate to admit, each and every sound ricocheting off the walls made him more and more eager to please. Weary of his teeth, he licked and sucked and sopped up each bead of precum he was awarded as he continued his assignment. If Gaz’s TV wasn’t as loud as it was, the whole house would’ve heard her brother’s undoing in the next room. Mantras of “fuck” and “god, yes” echoed off each surface to chant for their endurance.

Before long, the fire pooling in his gut reached its peak as he came with a roaring groan, holding Zim’s head tightly in place so as to not spill a single precious drop. Ropes upon ropes sputtered down Zim’s throat one after another which he greedily swallowed down like the good little soldier he was. He hummed at the taste which sent vibrating shockwaves up the pulsating shaft causing Dib to flinch away with a hiss. But Zim wasn’t quite done yet; he wasn’t about to let his prey go. With a much softer tongue, he laved at the slit delving inside to retrieve any missed spend- it was his prize to claim and it would not escape him. 

Once satisfied, he released the belt loops he hadn't realized he was holding from his demanding grasp and carefully pulled away from the tender, softening flesh. Flushed, yet level headed, he peered upward at Dib who was nowhere near as coherent. Overheated and overstimulated, he had no choice but to lay back in rapture; encompassed in post-orgasm haze. Never did he think a simple blow job could be that incredible or that Zim would be the creature to give it. That such a being of destruction could also be one of depravity. 

“Was that to your liking, My Tallest?” His voice was gruff with both use and lust as his shoulders heaved, panting. Dib propped himself up on his elbows to at least try to have some semblance of sanity. His hair stuck up in all directions giving him a mockery of a dark halo and his voice came almost as dark. 

“To my liking?” He parroted, dazed. 

Zim stared. 

“You nearly sucked out my soul through my dick and you want to know if you did a good job?” 

Finally sitting all the way up, Dib tucked himself back away, chuckling to himself in disbelief. 

“Yes, Zim. You did a very good job. Your, heh, Tallest is quite impressed.”

Of all the time exchanged, it was this moment that caused Zim to be well and truly bashful. Shoving himself away from the spread knees in front of him, Zim leapt to his feet and tried to compose himself; cheeks cherry reddening at the praise. 

“Of course I did well, pathetic worm-smeet. My superior Irken flesh had to demonstrate a pleasure you would not have found elsewhere.” He tried his best to adjust himself discreetly, but remained just as successful as Dib was at hiding his amusement. “You jest, but I’ve seen the vile ‘pornography’ you watch in your free time, human. I will never understand the appeal of a group of “backdoor sluts” or how there are somehow nine installments.”

 Dib flushed abashedly. “When did you snoop around on my laptop?” He shrieked. 

“Know thy enemy, beast,” he shrugged, unperturbed, moving toward the door. 

“You’re leaving already?” Dib cautiously asked, disappointment evident in his voice. 

“Well, yeah,” he shifted on his toes. “The ritual is over, yes? Am I forgetting something?” He narrows his eyes. “Are you being untruthful about your satisfaction?” 

“No! Nothing like that, I just,” he combs his damp hair out of his face. He really was getting more disgusting by the minute. “You didn’t, you know. Er…” he flounders. 

“Achieve orgasm? No. I didn't. But I don’t understand how that’s relevant.” He toes on his shoes and stuffs his socks into his pocket to deal with later. 

“Would you like to? Usually this sort of thing is mutual.” This time he managed to hide the nervousness in his voice. “Traditionally,” he added. 

It was such a bold question. One Zim was ready to dismiss if it weren’t for the steady ache he felt. He contemplated giving himself over to a Tallest entirely-the pleasure that would hold. The emotional gratification. Was he really about to grant himself such pleasure? 

“No. I’ll be fine.” The air shifted through the open door giving them both the grace to breathe. “Bye, Dib.

Much later in the night, two friends sat alone in their beds biting back urgent moans and painting their sheets and bellies; replaying the events of the evening in their minds until there was nothing left for their bodies to give. Spent and exhausted, they would each stare at their ceilings and think independently together the same refrain they’ve uttered for years:

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, I’ll tell him. 

[jordiemeow]

MISC BOT DUMP ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

18/03/25

featuring characters from: challengers, west side story, panic & the bikeriders

mike faist character drop!! yippee!!!

dont get ur panties in a twist patrick/tashi lovers they Will be back. hopefully this weekend or early next week with euphoria/saltburn/outer banks etc etc bot drop. probably better to do this rather than dropping a billion bots at once! also promise i'll drop a gn (or mlm) riff bot eventually. + u can probably tell i've watched like five episodes of panic i'll finish it at some point and make more event-based dodge

also some of the reqs were a lil vague so. took creative liberty n hope they all turned out somewhat okay !!

gender neutral unless specified otherwise. have fun

enjoy ! <3

ART DONALDSON

BOY NEXT DOOR

stanford!art x neighbour!user (m4f)

Art's always been real cute. Two years younger than you, just that sweet boy next door. A little bit awkward but you always put that down to the puberty years. But boy is he smitten with you. And when you're both back to spend winter break with your families, he can't miss out on another chance to talk to you. He's not a little boy anymore.

RETIREMENT

painter!art x younger!user

When Art retired, it was just an unspoken fact that he would turn to coaching. So when he puts down his racket in exchange for a paintbrush, everyone is baffled. He doesn't regret it in the slightest, though—not when his rediscovered hobby leads to him meeting you, his new muse.

CHEATER CHEATER

stanford!art x user

He’s always been the perfect boyfriend… minus the fact he’s in love with Tashi Duncan. When you plan to surprise him with a visit from his long-distance best friend, you don’t expect a text from Patrick telling you that your boyfriend and his girlfriend are sleeping with each other behind your backs. Time to avoid him like the plague.

NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER

divorced!art x girlfriend!user (m4f)

Art was a broken creature after his divorce. No purpose in life without tennis or a marriage to keep him in check. So when he meets you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office, the pair of you just click. He’s found his new reason to live again, and he’s ready to take the next step with you: kids, marriage, the whole white picket dream.

WOMANISER

stanford!art x user (m4f)

Without Patrick in the picture, Art finally doesn't have to play second fiddle anymore. No longer just his shadow, but the heartbreaker of Stanford University. And unfortunately, you're one of the victims of his sweet blue eyes and whispered sweet little nothings. But maybe, one day, he'll realise you're enough for him.

DOCTOR DONALDSON

stanford!art x best friend!user

Art knows when you're feeling under the weather, it gets rough. All the worst symptoms imaginable, resigned to a week in a dark room while your body struggles. He's all too happy to play the role of Doctor Donaldson and nurse you back to full health.

RIFF LORTON

DADDY MATERIAL

baby daddy!riff x user (m4f)

Having a kid was never in the cards for Riff. What was his motto? Born to die young, daddy-o. Except, well, now he's the daddy... The Jets will always be his boys, but he's got a real family now. If only you'd just let him in.

PRE-RUMBLE

riff lorton x user (m4f)

Riff is real pissed. Tony must have a loose screw in his head, the rest of his boys are too busy muckin' around, and the alcohol isn't easing his nerves for the fight tomorrow night. But he's got you, one of his favourite girls, to make it all a little easier.

FOOLIN' AROUND

riff lorton x user (m4f)

Riff's never been in love. But he thinks he's come pretty damn close with you. Maybe he's getting sick and tired of just sleeping in your bed and taking you dancing the odd time. Maybe this tough ol' gang leader wants to take you on a real date—make you his girl.

LET'S DANCY, GIRLY GIRL

riff lorton x user (m4f)

He loves dancing. All his boys spinning around nice girls in pretty skirts, a respite from the havoc of the rest of New York, just good music and laughter. When he sees you across the floor, the prettiest girl he's ever laid eyes on, dancing with one of his boys... well, Diesel can get fuckin' lost.

DODGE MASON

SAVE A HORSE

dodge mason x partner!user

You don't know jack shit about riding. All you know is that he's supposed to stay for eight seconds—or maybe it's seven?—on the back of one of those real angry looking horses, and then he... wins, or something like that. But you don't really care about the horse. No, you're interested in riding something else.

DOT'S DINER

co-worker!dodge x user

Dodge has always been a bit of a mystery to you. To everyone, really. You never really cared enough to delve past the whole 'loner boy' persona he has going on at school... until you got a job at the same diner. Your efforts to get to know him were fruitless; he was polite enough, but clearly disinterested in being your friend. But after spotting him at the rodeo last week, you finally have something to talk to him about.

DANNY LYON

THE VANDALS

danny lyon x benny's sister!user (m4f)

You've got him stumped. A completely mystery to him, shrouded in a shadow that he can't quite see past no matter how bright he shines a light. You don't have a Kathy to spout your secrets to him like your brother does, meaning Danny just has to figure you out himself. And he will. He's certain of it.

CAMERA SHY

danny lyon x user

Danny loves you, but you're a little difficult sometimes. Or maybe insecure is a better word. Which, for the life of him, he can't understand. You're beautiful—the perfect partner for him, in every aspect. So, please, just let him take some pictures of you?

[demigod-shenanigans]

I did also make Isabella a bunch of little outfits back when I did Olympia and Finley but I made myself anxious despite the fact that you told me taking some creative liberties was fine and so I kind of just never posted them. Which is stupid so here they are

Kind of imagining this as her go-to outfit:

Tank top + flannel tied around her waist, like you mentioned. Also gave her closed shoes since that seemed reasonable for a forge and a little watch. Maybe it’s got some fancy buttons like the one Tyson made Percy that turned into a shield. I could see Leo making something like that for his kid.

Also not entirely sure why I gave her glasses, I just kind of liked the vibes, plus it’s a fun little Jason-parallel I guess?

I think you said she grows up in New Rome so I’m not sure she actually has a CHB necklace but I did give her one just in case

Formal outfit:

Not super fancy or anything since you said she doesn’t dress up a ton despite liking it, but this felt like it fit the color scheme nicely and I just felt like she’d probably like it

Sports outfit:

Using the flannel and the watch again, plus what might be one of Leo’s old camp shirts if you use your imagination a little

Sleepwear:

For some reason my brain read hand-me-downs from her dads and just ran with it LOL. Anyway that’s absolutely one of Jason’s old sweaters of a pair of leggings. It’s huge and cozy and I feel like Isabella especially likes sleeping in it when she feels kind of homesick on quests because she’s had it literally forever and it’s got a New Rome logo stamped on somewhere.

Also, hair down for her sleep outfit for comfort

Party outfit:

This is the one outfit I gave her that actually feels like she’s dressing up. I feel like this dress just sits around in the closet unused for much of the year but she loves getting it out for special events. I love that it’s kind of sunset colored.

Summer outfit:

Honestly, I just liked the vibes of this shirt a lot. Both because it looks like it’s post some sort of monster attack and because it looks like she’s wearing a layer of purple shirt underneath an orange shirt and considering she’s being raised by a Roman and a Greek demigod together that just felt kind of perfect to me

Swimwear:

Fairly practical, probably also more for quest related swimming than for fun day off at the swimming pool (realistically, how many of those do demigods get?). Also fit the color scheme nicely, and I put her hair down again for practical reasons

And finally, winter outfit:

This might be Isabella’s own sweater, but I’m also very amused by the thought that it’s one of Jason’s (maybe an NRU one) that Leo accidentally shrunk by washing it at the wrong temperature, so it’s now Isabella-sized instead of Jason-sized. (Listen. Leo can fix the washing machine when it breaks, but he’s got no idea what is supposed to go in there at which temperatures. Too many different settings and different fabrics to remember. Leo does lots of things around the house, but there’s a reason Jason is the one who usually handles the laundry, LOL)

Sorry if this is kind of a random question but re: the fankids, what color/style of clothing do they prefer to wear? (I’m garbage at art but I have maybe been playing around with the Sims character creator a little bit)

- Finley wears quite oversized, relaxed-fit clothes that are comfortable and don’t hug his figure. He does look AMAZING in a suit, though. He usually wears something black to conceal his curves and layers something lighter-coloured on top. His colour palettes are quite light and summery, but with cooler tones of blues and greens. Idk if this is relevant but he wears some vintage Naomi Solace merch at some point on the quest.

- Olympia is almost always pictured in her CHB t-shirt or her armour or both (as much as she tries to break from the shadow of her parents, she can’t seem to shake it) but her colour palette usually consists of blues, greys, and bronzes. I associate her with deep ocean colours where Percy is more beachy. Her palette is darker to differentiate her from Finley who also wears blues.

- Isabella likes fashion but rarely dresses up. She mostly just wears hand-me-downs from her dads. I picture her in warm tones- reds and oranges and browns- but usually wears quite muted colours. In the forges she wears tank tops and short-sleeves shirts (she doesn’t have her papa’s fireproofiness) but almost always has some sort of flannel tied round her waist. She’s wears quite practical clothes. She’s the only one I haven’t fully figured out the appearance of yet so feel free take some artistic liberties it might inspire me to come up with a design. I know she has dark hair that she wears in messy updos and has dark eyes.

Above is some basic colour palettes I came up with and below are some that I found on Pinterest:

Finley:

Olympia:

Isabella:

[misora-msby]

花火 | chapter two : snow

花火 (fireworks) | chapter two : snow

themes / warnings : medieval japan au, supernatural au, fluff, angst, death, illness

pairing : kitsune!suna x fem!reader

word count : 11.7k

notes : please read part one before reading this one! it’ll be nicer i promise, even if it’s long <3 to those who already read it, thank you very much! as always, i did my best to research shintoism but i also did take a few creative liberties. and thank you very much to my dear friend and beta reader @myoyachi​ <3

part one can be found here

A cold winter wind blew, disturbing the otherwise peaceful landscape of snow. To many who had been tired of the many years of the war, winter was just another grievance. Food was scarce in these months with fewer crops, and the battles were always more painful when you were fighting off enemies, hunger, and hypothermia.

The four kitsunes at the shrine noticed the larger amount of people coming to pray too. Whether it was a farmer making his final prayers for his farm before hurrying and leaving it to his family, or a housewife praying for her unborn children to be healthy so they could help out from a young age, their days were filled with delivering prayers to Inari.

However, today was a quieter day. Fewer people were coming to the shrine due to the snow falling and making the stairs up to the shrine slippery. Hence, Rintarou could take a break sitting on the rooftop as he always did.

He wasn’t bothered by the freezing temperatures. After all, he was just a spirit and he could warm himself up whenever he wanted to. Not that he needed to. Despite that, he still wore a tanzen instead of his regular yukata or jinbei. It was just a little more comfortable in the winter, like wearing a thick blanket around him at all times.

As Rintarou laid on the rooftop, he closed his eyes and felt the tiny flakes fall upon his teenaged face before melting. He wondered how long it had been since he first came to the shrine considering he looked to be about 16 years old now. A small smirk came to his face as he thought about how he had grown to be taller than the other three over all the years.

While Shinsuke didn’t seem to mind, Atsumu and Osamu complained that they still had some time to go. Rintarou didn’t doubt it, but he would simply remind them that that meant he had time to grow too. 

Safe to say, the twins shut up after that.

Speaking of which, the silence around him had been interrupted. Rintarou could hear the shrine maidens putting on their sandals and walking around to the front of the shrine. He could also hear the sound of geta clicking their way up the stairs leading to the shrine.

“The maids must’ve seen someone coming up the mountainside to make their prayers.” He thought to himself and relaxed.

“Thank you for making the journey up!” The kannushi greeted. The kitsune wondered if it was someone important. There had been some important daimyos visiting before and he could sense a familiar presence and scent from them.

“It’s alright. We’re more grateful for you being willing to take her in,” an elderly woman spoke.

“We’re sure she will become a wonderful shrine maiden. She’s not of age yet but until then we shall teach her about what we do and take care of her,” one of the shrine maidens spoke. Rintarou frowned slightly at the weird feeling in his chest he was getting, and peeked over the edge of the roof. His breath caught in his throat at the sight.  

“What’s your name, dear?”

“L/N...Y/N.”

Rintarou felt his heart stop at the mention of your name. Could it really be you? After all, the spirits of the deceased were not reincarnated but went on to reside in another world. Or maybe you were an anomaly and allowed to reincarnate for whatever reason. He wasn’t sure but he didn’t want to question it too much. All that he knew was that you were here now. Or someone who resembled you strongly. 

“Rintarou,” a strong voice called from behind him. The kitsune turned quickly to sit up and face his senior standing with his arms crossed and his haori resting on his shoulders as usual.

“Yes, senpai?”

“She may not be who ya think she is. Don’t frighten her. And remember to be careful, she’s here to become a shrine maiden.” 

The younger kitsune nodded slowly though his gaze drifted to you. Even if he knew you probably wouldn’t remember him, he still wanted to talk to you and to be friends once again.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Deep in the forest, Rintarou had been sitting on the old boulder and watching the moon, contemplating whether to talk to you or not. There was no way you could ever remember him anyways, so was there a point in trying to form a relationship with you again? You would probably be scared of him, right? He had nearly gotten over losing you anyways, so would it be worth it to start this all over again?

As he thought about it, drumming his long fingers against the rock, he heard a familiar sobbing in the distance.

Rintarou instinctively launched himself off of the boulder, his feet landing in the overgrown grass and snow without so much as a crunch before he took off running down the mountain to the shrine. The sobbing wasn’t loud at all, but it was easy for him to hear and he knew who it belonged to.

Right before he could reach the shrine, he came to an abrupt stop.

You were sitting on the engawa of the house where the priests and shrine maidens lived. Soft moonlight shone onto the snow piled around the shrine and gently illuminated your crying form which rubbed at your eyes with the sleeves of your old worn kimono. Rintarou took a step forward but stopped himself knowing that if you saw an older boy suddenly appear in front of you, you might scream. Any attention on himself was the last thing he wanted right now.

He took in a deep breath and a warm feeling spread through the kitsune as his body became smaller and dark fur grew on his skin. The transformation always gave him a weird sensation and a few moments getting used to, but not five seconds later he was a fox. A fox with a few tails, but he could hide that with a bit of illusionary magic.

With snow crunching softly under his little paws, Rintarou slowly walked over to you and sat right in front of you who hadn’t noticed him yet. 

When you removed your sleeves from your eyes, you looked down and jumped when you suddenly saw the predatory animal with glowing golden eyes right in front of you. “A-Ah… please don’t hurt me…”

Rintarou could feel a stinging pain in his heart, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. To think you could be scared of him when you were once quick to hold his hand or hug him… But he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised and that he would have to rebuild the relationship from scratch. 

He hopped onto the engawa and sat beside you on his hindlegs, golden eyes staring at you before bowing his head lightly to show that he meant no harm. 

“Ah… You’re nice, aren’t you?” you mumbled and reached out a cold hand to carefully stroke his head. To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at all. In fact, he leaned into your hand with a little whine.

You continued to stroke his soft fur. The warmth from the fox was warming your cold hands, making the action strangely therapeutic.

“This is really weird but…” You suddenly spoke, making Rintarou look up in surprise to hear your voice sounding almost exactly like it had years ago. “You make me feel better. I feel like I can talk to you.” A sad smile formed on your lips as tears began to well up again. 

The fox raised its paw, as if it wanted to wipe away your tears but quickly put down its leg and settled with just rubbing its head against your side. You had to smile a little more at that - this fox seemed to understand you. 

“If you don’t mind, I want to talk a bit,” you say, and the fox silently looks up at you again, “I didn’t want to come here. My family… my family is really far away. No, they were far away. We were craftsmen and merchants and it was okay. Then the daimyo asked all the men to fight his stupid war.

“Dad had to go… and then later nii-chan did. Mom, nee-chan, and my little brother were all left on the farm. One day, a man came to the house and mom started crying. I knew what happened to dad and nii-chan.”

Recounting the harsh memories caused little droplets to fall from your face, temporarily illuminated by the soft moonlight before dampening your kimono. Your breath was becoming a bit heavier and the way your chest jumped with nearly every breath told Rintarou how painful it was. 

“Mom… she was so sad. And then one day, I was out with granny to the forest to forage for some ingredients. Nee-chan couldn’t go because she had to help out in the shop. When we came back a week later, the village was burnt to the ground. It was so quiet.” 

You could recall the only sound being the howling wind blowing through the broken and burnt remains of the village. No pretty glass wind chimes, no laughter from the tavern, no children running freely. Just the wind and the sound of snow crunching under your feet. 

“B- But… obaa-san couldn’t take care of me. She’s getting old and wouldn’t live much longer. She said there’s a safe shrine and she used to be friends with a miko so she took me here. It was one week of walking and it was really painful but now I’m here. Then they said that I have to become a shrine maiden. My training hasn’t started yet but it will someday.”

The loose thread on your kimono sleeve had become longer as you fiddled with it while talking. “A-Anyways, I never really believed in the gods that much but I guess I have to start doing it now right?” You tried to laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood.

In reply, Rintarou pressed his forehead against your arm. A quiet way of saying he would stay with you.

He didn’t know if you wanted or even needed his protection, but he would give it to you. He knew that the training for becoming a shrine maiden was difficult, even painful at times. And he had already decided he wouldn’t let harm come to you anymore. Even if you didn’t know him anymore, or even if you weren’t the same soul, he would protect you.

The fox’s ears twitched as he heard footsteps pat their way on the wooden flooring of the house. Knowing it had to be one of the other shrine maidens, he quickly sprinted away from you. He didn’t need them to explicitly know of his existence.

“Y/N-chan, what are you doing out here? It’s cold and you must be hungry! Come sit inside by the fire. Ami-senpai made some matcha and we have some soba,” one of the shrine maidens insisted. 

“I was talk- I was looking at the moon.” You changed your answer upon realising it must be strange to say you were talking to a fox, though your gaze lingered on the little pawprints in the snow.

“The moon, huh?” The older girl looked at the sky and nodded, “Indeed. It’s beautiful, but it can wait unlike our soba!” 

She quickly ushered you inside, away from the cold and unintentionally from Rintarou’s gaze. 

He had transformed back to his human form, finding it more comfortable. His face remained neutral as he looked up at the moon, wondering what he could do for you. 

The next morning, you woke up and rubbed your eyes. The sunlight was shining through the paper doors and you noticed the other shrine maidens were still asleep. Perhaps it was because they had stayed up a little later than you did to wash the cutlery and clean around the fireplace. 

You pushed back the blanket and quietly folded your futon. Maybe you’d go sweep the front of the shrine and remove the snow. The maidens were nice and you knew they had plenty of duties so it would be good to help out at least a little. 

The air was cold from the night’s winter breeze but at least the sun was starting to melt the ice just a little. You breathed on your hands in an attempt to warm them up as you carefully slid open the paper doors separating the room and the open hallway. To your surprise, there was a little parcel right outside. 

On top of a piece of scrap cloth sat a little bundle of berries and a few small mikan fruits. You cocked your head, wondering where they could have come from until you saw a few strands of fur laying beside them. 

Dark brown, just like the fox from last night. 

And if you looked carefully, there were little paw prints leading to the forest beside the shrine. 

You wondered if he could’ve been a guardian spirit and smiled to yourself at the funny thought. Anything could happen these days. 

You then wrapped up the fruit, deciding to share it with the other girls for a sweet breakfast or for a snack later and reentered the room. 

Rintarou watched from atop a tree branch, his narrow eyes hoping you had noticed the little clues he had left for you. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your smile was enough to please him. It was certainly nicer than your tear stained face which he hoped he would never have to see again. 

With ever quiet footsteps, Rintarou hopped off the tree and began walking back to the den where the other foxes lived.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Several moons had passed. 

Since that day, Rintarou could not gather the courage to speak to you. All he would do was lay on his regular spot on the rooftop and occasionally eavesdrop on the shrine staff if he felt like it to make sure you were alright. You seemed to be adjusting quickly, helping out with minor tasks and cleaning up around the shrine in order to get on the shrine maidens’ good side. It seemed to work, and he was relieved for you. 

On certain days when you were asked to go into the forest and pick flowers or fruit, he would subtly guide you in the direction of better fruit or block a path to poisonous berries. He would also scare off wild animals to keep you safe.

While doing this, Rintarou wished he could talk to you directly again, but he knew there was the risk that you would be scared and it would make your many years at the shrine hell-like.

“What do you think?” he asked Osamu one day while the rain of June fell outside their den - a little hut that Shinsuke had built a long time ago with the other kitsune who lived here before they moved away and before the three younger foxes had come about.

“What do I think? You kinda sound like a weirdo,” his fellow kitsune replied while taking a bite from his onigiri he had made for himself. Rintarou frowned and crossed his arms, silently asking “What do you mean?” 

Osamu finished up his rice ball and looked at his friend, “Yer always just watchin’ the poor girl. If you were a human you’d probably wanna protect her from yer weird self. Just talk to her. If she gets freaked, that sucks but it ain’t the end of the world.”

Rintarou drummed his fingers against his bicep, knowing his friend did have a point. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

Which was the reason why one month later he was standing by the torii watching you reach up in an awkward attempt to light the lanterns around the shrine. 

Tonight was the summer festival.

Although the war still raged on, knowing they could still hold the festival every year was a sort of blessing to the population. Being under one of the more powerful lords, their region lived in relative peace and prosperity. 

And to Rintarou, it brought both wonderful and painful memories.

He took in a deep breath and walked over to you who stood on your tiptoes in an attempt to light a lantern. He noticed that though you were taller, you were still a little short for now. As for him, he practically towered over you with how he had grown in his unfinished ‘adolescent years’.

“Let me help you.” He spoke in his quiet voice, making you jump and almost drop the candle you were holding. 

“H-Hold on, who are- s-sorry, could I ask who you may be?” you changed your speech to be more polite as you realised this mysterious man could be a visitor to the shrine. Your grandma had emphasised to you to be kind to strangers, and the shrine maidens made sure you knew of that rule even more when it came to shrine visitors.

Rintarou realised that he must have surprised you with the way his feet barely made a sound as he walked to you. 

“I’m Rintarou. Do you want me to help? You look like you’re having a little trouble,” he asked, holding out a hand for you to place the candle into. 

However, you just shrank away and shook your head, holding the candle as close to yourself as you would dare. “I’m not familiar with you. We’re still making preparations around the shrine for today’s festival so…” You furrowed your brow as you saw something swish behind the man. 

As discreetly as a curious young teen could, you took a glance at what was behind him and almost dropped your candle with a squeak upon seeing three long tails swaying. 

“N-No way, you’re a kitsune? You’re real?” Your face was pale with fear but your eyes were wide with amazement. Then you remembered the tales you had read about the spirits, both the good and bad.

“You’re not… you’re not going to play a trick on me are you? Oh wait, no, you must be one of Inari-sama’s servants! Oh gosh, I’m so sorry for treating you weirdly!” You were beginning to panic at the idea that you might have just been rude to a celestial being.

“Ah, I mean that’s true but I don’t really care about those things,” Rintarou shrugged, “Do you remember me though?” It was a long shot but worth a try.

“Remember?” You cocked your head in confusion. Was there something you were supposed to remember? 

The kitsune was somewhat disappointed that you could not remember him from long ago, but he was already preparing for that. It hurt, but it was a bearable pain.

Then he remembered, he had appeared to you on your first night as a fox. With a snap of his fingers and a puff of smoke, he felt his body become smaller. The transformation was never very enjoyable but once the smoke had cleared, you gasped upon seeing a little dark brown fox with golden eyes in front of you.

“You’re the fox from that night! When I first came! But you had one tail that time…” you crossed your arms, slightly unconvinced. What if this kitsune wasn’t a zenko but a yako? A mischievous spirit looking to cause harm?

Just as you blinked, two of his tails had suddenly disappeared. He was exactly like that fox from that winter night you arrived.

“Oh… It really was you.”

“Of course it was,” Rintarou spoke and with another puff of smoke returned to his human form. Tall and handsome in his black yukata with red accents and a red obi, though this time with his ears on display too. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“That implies you would lie about other things. Aren’t you supposed to be good since you work for Inari-sama?” You grinned cheekily at his words. 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes in reply before crossing his arms, “Well. You’re supposed to be working for him soon too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You squinted at the older teenage boy.

“You’re not lighting the lanterns.”

“Oh! You’re right!” You ran to the next lantern and tiptoed to reach the paper lantern while wondering who on earth decided to hang all the paper lanterns for the festival so high. 

Rintarou watched from a few feet away, arms still crossed at your unsuccessful attempt to light the lantern. After about a minute of watching you jump around and almost dropping your candle about three times, he walked over, “Do you need help? This one’s taller than the rest.”

You looked up at him and his height before a bashful pink creeped up your cheeks. 

“Y-Yeah… And could you help with the others…”

With a little chuckle, the kitsune took the candle from your hand and began lighting the paper lanterns with ease. As you two walked around the shrine grounds to light the lanterns, you became curious of him.

“How long have you been a kitsune?” You asked.

“I think… two centuries? I don’t count these days,” Rintarou replied.

“Eh… What do you do as a zenko? Is it fun?”

“Mm… I deliver prayers and make sure no evil spirits come to the shrine. Also, I sleep a lot.”

“Wow… that sounds nice! I wish I could be a kitsune too!”

Rintarou’s breath stopped for a second. He had wished that for you too. If only you could have been a kitsune when you first met… you would have been with the four of them.

“Yeah… It’s nice. But it’s got its downsides,” he said and lit another lantern. 

He noticed the confused look on your face. After all, how could there be downsides to being practically immortal and to having magical powers?

There were too many things he wanted to say; from the way he had to witness too many horrible things in the history of this war torn land to the way the changing of seasons was no longer special to him - it was just another way to show time passed. 

But most of all, it was the fact that time passed ever so slowly for him. 

He couldn’t count how many times he had had to witness the coming and going of the animals and flowers in the forest, of the people at the shrine, and most importantly ‘your’ coming and going.

But how could he tell you all of this? He certainly didn’t want to ruin your night. 

“You just get bored after a while since everything’s a bit repetitive,” Rintarou shrugged while lighting a lantern. He returned the candle to your hand, expression ever unchanging. “We’re done with everything. Are you going to the festival after this?”

“Thanks, Rintarou-san!” The kitsune cringed at the way you called him ‘-san’ rather than with ‘-kun’ or ‘RinRin’ like Shinsuke or the twins would. It really had been a while since he talked to anyone else. “Mm, the shrine maiden onee-sans said I have to help out for three hours, then I get free time to go to the festival!” You grinned.

“Ah. That’s good.” He replied. 

A short silence followed, the two of you unsure what to say or do now. The cicada’s buzzing was getting louder and Rintarou’s expression remained calm as he stared at you with his narrow eyes. His stare was so intense that it felt like he was looking right into your soul.

“Rintarou-s”

“-kun. You don’t have to say ‘-san’.”

You cocked your head in confusion, “But you’re a zenko. If anything it should be with ‘-sama’,” you said.

“I’m okay with it. More importantly, I wanted to ask you if you want to spend that free time in the festival with me? There’s something I want to show you, I think you’d love it.”

You thought about it for a moment, “Sure, but what is it? I’m not gonna follow you to the spirit world if that’s what you wanna do.” 

Rintarou scrunched his nose at the thought. He went there all the time, it wasn’t special at all. And he knew you wouldn’t enjoy it much (it was more weird in his opinion than special.) “No, but it’s a surprise.”

You cocked your head, wondering what on earth he could be referring to. But you sensed no malice from him and he genuinely just seemed like he had good intentions, so you nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you at the back of the shrine in three hours then.” You flashed a toothy smile at him too and he smiled softly in return.  

“I’ll see you there.” 

Time seemed to pass in the smallest increments as Rintarou walked around the festival with the twins and Shinsuke. Not only was waiting for you taking an excruciatingly long time, but all the attention they were receiving was becoming tiring.

As they practically towered over everyone around them, they just stood out in the crowd too much. Even Shinsuke was taller than everyone. Though, Rintarou noticed that people were taller than the average height a hundred years ago and he wondered if the average height would continue to grow. He hoped that would happen so it wouldn’t be so troublesome in the future for them.

Because as flattering as receiving marriage offers from various women trying to find suitable son-in-laws was, it was getting a little annoying and Rintarou was not interested in marrying anyone. Atsumu cheekily accepted one or two but a quick knock on the head from Shinsuke reminded him to keep his mouth shut.

So when the three hours had passed and you were finally able to leave your duties taking care of selling charms at the shrine, you were somewhat surprised to see Rintarou looking almost eager to meet with you.

“How long were you waiting for?” You asked, having to crane your neck to look up at him.

“Not a long time,” He shrugged as if he didn’t come to the meeting spot almost twenty minutes ago. “Anyways, should we head to our destination? We don’t have much time.” 

You nodded and followed behind him into the forest. Even if it was strange to be following someone you barely knew, it was like there was something deep in you that said ‘You can trust him.’

Rintarou’s tails swished behind him as you two walked, almost tickling your nose with how close it was to you, though you knew to not touch it lest you wanted to cause an accident. You noticed how you could only clearly hear your footsteps - the kitsune’s were so gentle that they made no more than a light brushing against the grass. 

It really was strange, following a spirit into the forest.

A couple of minutes later, he stopped walking. “Here we are,” He stepped to the side and allowed you to take in the beautiful sight of a glade. It felt like a scene you could only see in a dream. In fact, it gave a strange feeling of deja vu, like you had seen this sight in an old dream. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s so pretty that my chest feels funny,” you replied, causing Rintarou to chuckle lightly. 

“This place makes my chest feel funny too,” He said and brushed off a wisteria petal that fell onto your head, “Come on, it gets even better.”

He then guided you to the boulder and helped you climb on top of it. As you sat with your knees hugged to your chest, staring up at the dark night sky, you smiled to yourself. It really was a nice place, and Rintarou really was a nice person.

A sudden flame shot up into the sky and burst, followed by a loud bang seconds later. Soon, more lights followed the initial one, exploding with their own timings while loud claps and bangs followed mere seconds after. The night sky was repeatedly illuminated with vibrant colours and you could only stare in awe. 

For many years, Rintarou had watched this sight alone, but now he had you again. Though your relationship was different and he didn’t even know if you were the same person, he didn’t care. Your company now was good enough for him. Filled with nostalgia, the teen couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he watched the last light fade away, leaving a trail of smoke in the air.

“The fireworks at my old village were never this pretty,” You spoke softly after a few moments of silence, “They were pretty of course, but never this beautiful.”

“Well this region has some pretty important shoguns so we’ve got a little more access to money for festivities these days,” Rintarou explained, though he personally felt it was prettier because he had a friend to watch the show with.

A friendship that possibly transcended a lifetime, huh…

“This place is really pretty in the sunset too. And the sunrise. And in the afternoon actually.” His words made you giggle.

“So, this place is pretty all day?” you asked. 

Rintarou realised how awkward his description was and nodded slowly. “Yeah… You should come see it. I’ll bring you so you don’t have to worry about getting lost and such.”

“Sure!” Your bright smile was illuminated by the remaining fireflies and yet it also illuminated the dark space around you two. Rintarou smiled back and ruffled your hair lightly. 

“I’ll look forward to it,” he started as you pouted and rearranged your hair, “There’s plenty of other nice places here too. I think you’d love them.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Months passed, and as the green leaves faded into shades of warm oranges, reds, and yellows, you two would spend the cooling autumn afternoons crossing creeks, eating juicy berries you would find, and sometimes just sitting in a quiet place to chat, eat, or read. Though the library in the shrine wasn’t massive, it held some interesting folktales and old journals. 

The shrine maidens did enquire once in a while but you figured they wouldn’t believe you if you said you went to spend time with a group of kitsune. You wondered if it was bad to lie and say that you liked reading in the forest and gathering the fruits of fall, but you did so anyways. It wasn’t a complete lie after all. 

You enjoyed the time you spent with Rintarou - he was fun to talk to and when Atsumu and Osamu would come to spend time with you two, the afternoon was always filled with laughter. Shinsuke was interesting to talk to too, he was knowledgeable about nearly anything and you were convinced at times that he was Inari themselves (though he was quick to tell you he was just another kitsune like the three).

The seasons seemed to pass too quickly though, for before you knew it the golden leaves began to fall and became buried under layers of snow and ice. You were no longer allowed to leave the shrine as often, seeing as it was dangerous and cold. Because of that, you couldn’t talk to the foxes as much as before, but you appreciated them trying to visit once in a while. 

Still, the cold wind and frost threatening to freeze your fingertips and cheeks brought back terrible memories and their limited visits weren’t always enough to keep you warm all the time. 

At times in the middle of the winter nights, you would suddenly wake up from the sound of a particularly strong wind blowing, rattling the shutters and rustling the crackling branches of the trees nearby. No matter how you hugged the blanket to yourself, you never felt completely fine until you’d quietly exit the room and sit on the engawa just like you had roughly a year ago, watching the moon.

“Can’t sleep?” The familiar voice spoke with a little chuckle. You looked to your side and saw Rintarou sitting beside you.

“When did you get there?” You asked, hugging your knees to your chest and looking at the nearly spotless layer of snow before you. 

“Doesn’t matter. You don’t seem too good though,” he said, looking at your smaller form.

“Yeah. I don’t feel too great,” you mumbled, “I just remember… that day a lot these days. And… the shrine maidens told me something.” You rested your chin on your knees.

Rintarou noticed the way your fingers dug into the thick cloth of your kimono, as if you were trying to endure an invisible pain. He cocked his head, “What did they tell you?”

“I have to start training to become a miko once spring comes. And it’s really scary… I mean, I think you’ve seen it before. All the onee-sans are always really tired and they have to do these terrifying rituals and sometimes… I’m not dumb. I know what happens in the spare room with visitors. It’s one of the only ways we get money anymore.” You could feel a lump welling up in your throat. 

Rintarou noticed it too. The way your breath became shakier the more you thought about it, thinking about the times you overheard the older miko talking to each other about their past experiences, and the way your sniffles were not because of the cold air but because you were trying to hold back tears. 

“I read the old journals and I don’t want to become a miko. I’m scared, Rintarou.” You cried softly and held onto his sleeve, trying to hold your breath to prevent your wails from escaping your throat. But you began hiccupping and panicking even more, worried that the others would hear you.

Rintarou was quick to pull you close to himself, large hands carefully stroking your hair in an attempt to calm you. 

He had no idea what to say. The thought terrified him too, to think that you didn’t get to choose this path yet you were stuck on it. The only thing that could come to mind for him to say was,

“I’ll protect you.”

Your hiccupping stopped as you looked up at him. 

“Huh?”

“I won’t let you get hurt by evil spirits or allow harm to come to you. Officially, I’m just a messenger but I think my powers exceed just that,” Rintarou looked into your teary eyes as he spoke, a small smile on his lips as he continued to stroke your hair, “You don’t doubt me, do you?”

“No, I don’t…” Your choked voice replied, though it and your body were both noticeably calmer.

“Yeah. So don’t worry. I’m still here and I’ll always be here for you.”

You look into his golden eyes for a minute, searching for any deception you doubted he would hold towards you. Your grip tightened on his clothes and you finally let your head fall against his chest. “I trust you.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

As the years went by, Rintarou kept his promise. Every time he knew a spirit would come to possess you, he would warn it to not cause harm. Whenever your training involved the cold, he would help warm you up with his fire. And whenever you felt like it was getting too difficult, he would come to your side and encourage you to continue.

He was proud to know that your skill in talking to spirits (with some of his help) made you recognised as one of the best miko at the shrine.

But today, Rintarou finds himself seated upon the roof once again. It was a special day today - you would perform the kagura dance on this fine afternoon among the falling cherry blossoms to show off the cultivation of your years of effort. 

On his left sat Shinsuke, and to the left of the older kitsune sat the twins. All four of them were eager to see the culmination of your efforts, and were curious to see how Inari would take it. They would be coming down today after all, and possibly entering your form.

The four watched as you carefully took your position on the platform in your pure white robes. If he wasn’t mistaken, you looked up at him for a moment before your powdered face returned to its calm and emotionless state. You then picked up the kagura suzu, a wand with bells for the ceremony, and held it firmly yet carefully. It jingled quietly with your subtle movement, though it became louder as you rattled it and signalled for your fellow miko to begin playing their instruments. 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes as he watched the way your feet took little steps, slowly moving around the platform just as you practiced. Though it wasn’t the first time he had seen it, for some reason he thought you looked absolutely amazing today. 

Your hair was done beautifully and the movements your body made were simple yet stunning. The look of serenity on your face was something else too. Though it was funny to hear coming from a celestial being such as him, he thought you looked ethereal.

Suddenly, his eyes widened. What was he thinking? He shouldn’t be falling for a human, much less a shrine maiden. 

A cold breeze blew through the shrine grounds and your body tensed up midway through your dance. 

Inari had descended. 

Instinctively, Rintarou stood to his feet to protect you and calm you, but Shinsuke grabbed his wrist roughly. “She knows what she’s doing. You’ve watched her practice. Inari-sama won’t harm her,” he said, and the brunet sat back down.

Your once gentle movements had become wild and loud, as you leaped about the platform possessed by Inari. Though this was a special moment for you, Rintarou could only feel a strange feeling in his chest. 

Was it worry? Jealousy? But it felt stronger than that. He couldn’t understand it and could only continue to watch your performance in silence but also with a warm feeling in his heart. 

That night, you decided to sit out on the engawa and watch the moon once again. It felt like a good night as the ceremony in the morning was a success and the current weather was not too warm yet not too cold. Of course, you never watched the moon alone, though you didn’t even have to ask if your regular partner would care to sit with you because when you slid open the door, Rintarou was already there.

“You did well today,” he spoke up and shifted slightly to make space for you on the engawa. 

“Thank you. The other maidens said the same,” you replied quietly as you sat beside him, “And I saw you four sitting on the roof today. Do kitsune find the kagura entertaining too?” Though the ceremony was originally intended to be entertainment for the gods, no one could deny that in recent years, many people found it interesting themselves. 

“We’ve seen many kagura performances in our many years of living so… it’s not particularly entertaining anymore,” Rintarou shrugged. 

“Then…” you narrowed your eyes and leaned in close, “My performance was boring?”

The kitsune realised what he had said and his eyes widened. “No, nothing like that. It was good,” he quickly spoke.

“Good, but boring?”

“It wasn’t boring… I enjoyed watching it and I thought you looked-”

“I’m just teasing you, Rin. You always tease me so I thought I should do the same to you someday.” You giggled and averted your gaze up to the moon. Rintarou looked down at you in surprise but smiled softly.

Moments like these were frequent - the two of you would sit on the engawa at night and watch the clouds drift by, occasionally concealing the moon before allowing it to shine once more. But tonight, the kitsune didn’t feel like looking at it. Instead, he felt like it was outshone by your beauty. 

“It’s pretty tonight, isn’t it?” You suddenly spoke up, smiling at the sky. “I wish we could sit here forever to watch it.”

Rintarou glanced towards the sky for a moment but his gaze returned to you within the second. “Yeah. That would be nice. It’s really pretty,” he said before mumbling under his breath, “You’re really pretty.”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

The following summer, Rintarou waited in the forest as he usually did. Though it wasn’t too deep in, it was far enough that one couldn’t find him easily without knowing the correct path to take, weaving between trees and crossing over large roots. Of course, it was a path you knew all too well. 

Hearing the sound of leaves and dirt crunching alongside laboured breaths, Rintarou looked up to see you smiling at him tiredly. 

“Working as a shrine maiden ain’t all that fun is it?” He asked with a light chuckle as he passed you a still warm taiyaki wrapped in a small handkerchief, “Here, eat up.”

You nodded and took the taiyaki before following the spirit up the mountain as you always did. It became quieter the further you two walked into the forest, though it was a strange quiet. Unlike the silences you two often shared, today’s one felt different. Like you were waiting for something.

Perhaps it was the fact that this was your first proper break in a long time - your new position as a shrine maiden did take up a lot of time. Or the anticipation of this year’s fireworks, which were supposed to be bigger than ever due to the shogun finally winning the battle against his biggest enemy. You weren’t sure, but it felt like your heart was beating stronger than it usually did.

So far deep in your thoughts and snack, you didn’t realise a new root had grown on the path in the time you hadn’t visited the glade. 

With a squeak, you found yourself bracing for the impact you would surely feel once you hit the ground but- it didn’t come. Instead you felt a cool but warm body.

“Don’t go getting injured on me,” Rintarou warned and helped you stand up properly.

“Oh, you know that’s not my intention.” You laughed and took a bite of your taiyaki. “Plus, you’d nurse me back to health right? Just like that one time?”

“I feel like I’m cheating,” you admitted one day while laying in your futon. Rintarou sat beside you, flipping through an old folklore book left behind by a visitor. 

“Hm? Why’s that?” he asks as he put down the book to look at you. He carefully poured out a cup of hot tea for you and helped you sit up to drink it. This was one of the rare times you got to spend a lot of time alone and though you were unwell during it, he would use every second of this time to be with you.

“The other miko don’t have a spirit helping them. When they get sick from training they have to take care of themselves. And when they have to speak with spirits for training, no one can give them tips or frighten off the bad spirits,” you mumble, your voice slightly muffled by the thick blanket which was pulled up to the tip of your nose.

“If you want, I can ask Atsumu or Osamu to take care of them. They wouldn’t mind for sure.”

“Oh… no, don’t bother them.” You coughed and rolled onto your side to look at Rintarou, “They’ve probably got a lot of duties already.”

“But it’s no different from me helping you out, is it?” He pointed out. 

“But you chose to do this… If you wanna stop, you can too, ya know. It’s fine with me.” You sighed quietly and furrowed your brow. Even though you had just suggested it, you felt sad at the thought of your best friend leaving your side. It wouldn’t be like you’d never see him again, you’d just see him less. 

And yet… the thought of that hurt.

“You don’t actually want that. I can tell,” Rintarou chuckled and helped push away a few sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, “And neither do I.”

You pouted under the blanket, knowing he was right. And he knew he was right too. “Still…” you mumble, “You don’t have to take care of me to this extent.” 

Rintarou shook his head and leaned close to you. He could practically feel the heat emanating from your forehead but he ignored it along with the way you shrank further into the futon. “You can’t stop me from doing what I wanna do,” he said and pressed his lips to your forehead. 

It’s only a small act of affection, a show of protection from a spirit to a human. Yet you suddenly felt like your temperature had increased a couple degrees and a strange feeling had erupted in your chest. It was such a frustrating yet loving feeling, you wanted to experience it more and yet you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

When Rintarou pulled away and sat up straight again with his legs crossed, he rested his head in his palm, elbow propped up in his lap, and looked down at you with a sort of endearing yet sneaky smile. “So let me take care of you, Y/N.” His gentle voice spoke.

You nodded quietly and closed your eyes to return to sleep, though just before you did, you mumbled a small, “Thank you, Rin.” 

“I don’t recall.” He shrugged as he pushed back a wisteria branch and waited for you to pass. Just thinking about how he was trying to be cool by giving you a forehead kiss was enough to fill his body with the overwhelming need to hide under a rock for the next century. Thankfully, you were extremely drowsy while sick so you probably didn’t remember...

“You liar! You were giving me tea and putting the towel on my head and- there was a forehead kiss!” 

Looks like you didn’t forget and Rintarou would have to find a giant boulder very soon. 

“Who knew a zenko serving Inari-sama would believe in kisses to help heal sickness?!” You teased and reached up to poke his forehead, though he easily dodged it and you only laughed more.

“You’re annoying.” He sighed as you two waded your way through the tall grass of the glade. 

“But you still haven’t left me.” You giggled as you awkwardly climbed up the rock before sitting on top of it.

He had to admit you did have a point. Throughout the years, he never left your side. And thinking about it, you never left his either. Even though decades had passed, longer than you could even remember, you always returned to his side. 

The thought had him smiling softly before he nodded, “I suppose you have a point there. Now come, the fireworks should start soon. I heard they have a new one, created by some craftsmen from the north.” 

You gasped in reply, “Really? I can’t wait to-”

A light flew into the sky, bursting into a bright yellow flower before a loud BOOM sounded a second later.

“It’s starting! We really made it just in time, huh?” You grinned at the brunet before looking up at the sky once again. 

Even if you saw the sight every year, sometimes more than once a year, it was still beautiful. But what made it truly beautiful was the kitsune beside you.

No words had to be exchanged, yet his mere presence was enough to fill your heart with a warm feeling.

“Rintarou…” You called his name quietly while the fireworks continued to burst their way into the sky. 

The kitsune looked over at you, wondering what you would say. 

“I want to spend every year like this with you. Every summer festival, let’s watch the fireworks together. And every Tanabata, let’s make the same wish. Oh and every New Year’s, I’d like to eat mochi with you,” the words spilled from your mouth without you thinking.

Rintarou blinked owlishly at you for a second before he began laughing, his arms folded over his stomach in a bad attempt to make himself stop before he broke his cool too far.

“H-Hey! What’s so funny?” You whine, hitting his arm lightly.

“N-Nothing, it just…” He took a deep breath and leaned back slightly, though he still looked at you with a small smirk on his face. “It just sounds like a marriage proposal.” 

Upon hearing that, your eyes widened and your cheeks turned red. A marriage proposal? That sort of thing could never come from you! With your duties to Inari, there was no way that you could ever get married, especially not to a spirit like him!

“Y-You’re imagining things! I just said I like spending time with you!” You insisted, tearing your gaze away from the spirit sitting beside you. Though… you had to admit, there was more than one occasion where you wondered if the two of you could have gotten married in another life. 

In a different life, where you two were free to meet and fall in love, to court and engage in the beautiful ceremony of marriage… You both knew you would have chosen each other.

“Even if it was a proposal- and an accidental one at that, it’s not like we could get married. We’re both busy with our duties and you could probably find a more beautiful wife. The yuki onna that lives on the mountain in the winter is a good choice.” You joked, though it hurt a little to think of Rintarou choosing her.

“That woman? She’s still around? I thought Shin-senpai chased her off the mountain three years ago for causing violence on the grounds,” he frowned.

“Um… well she… or another one came back last winter, though she left already,” you tried to recall.

“Good riddance. Anyways, I wouldn’t choose her as a wife. Even if we were both human,” he shrugged before turning to you, “After all, why would I when I already have someone I want to marry right in front of me?”

The moment your eyes locked, a loud explosion burst and echoed in the silence that followed. The sky was reduced to its dark colours, any stars dotting it blanketed by the smoke.

“You’re just saying that,” you mumbled and quickly turned away, “it’s not good to joke about such important matters.” 

Rintarou frowned and scooted a little closer to you to ask, “Why do you think I’m joking?”

Your gaze stayed fixed on the grass surrounding the boulder, “Because we can’t get married. You’re a kitsune and I’m a human. Not to mention we have our own duties.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not serious when I say I want to marry you.” He gently cupped your face with his cool hand and brought it to look at his. 

As your eyes met, you wondered if the gold in his eyes always looked so beautiful. The sharpness of his features were more mesmerizing than ever, and you were so badly tempted to just lean in and-

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was more alluring than ever. 

“What if Inari-sama gets mad at you for defiling one of their shrine maidens?” you asked with a little grin on your face, making Rintarou playfully roll his eyes. 

“I’ll deal with that later,” he says and leans forward, taking your lips with his own. 

The moment you made contact, the sky was lit once again with bright colours. Though for once, both of you didn’t look at it. Instead, your eyelids slowly shut as you leaned into Rintaoru’s kiss. 

Though his skin was cool, the kiss felt hot. Too hot to handle - like a strange fire was spreading throughout your entire being starting from your heart and lips, and even burning the tips of your fingers and toes. You had never read about it before, let alone experienced it, but you liked it and wanted more of it. 

Was this what being in love was supposed to be like? 

As the two of you kissed, the fireworks continued to colour the night sky, unnoticed by you. To the two of you, nothing else existed right now. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Many more summers passed. Every year upon completing your shrine duties on the summer festival, you would don a wooden kitsune mask and run into the forest to find your lover waiting for you with a matching mask and a small packet of food to share. 

“Don’t you find it weird to have matching masks?” you asked with a giggle one winter night as you hiked hand in hand up the winding mountain trail. 

“Perhaps. But it’d be worse if someone saw the beloved seer and shrine maiden running into the forest with a man, wouldn’t it?” Rintarou asked.

“I suppose so. Would be horrible for business, wouldn’t it?” you replied with a laugh. 

“Exactly,” he ruffled your hair. 

Though the summer festival was always the highlight of the year for you, it wasn’t as if you two didn’t meet at other times. 

Spring was spent watching the blooming cherry blossoms together while eating small snacks, autumn was spent collecting fruits and sewing new kimonos to wear, and winter was spent drinking hot barley tea by the fire with the other kitsune. When the other shrine maidens asked where you would disappear off to for hours, you would simply smile and say, “I’m just checking in on the spirits around the mountain.”

Tonight as you walked hand-in-hand with Rintarou to the glade once again, he noticed the way you were walking a little slower than usual. He realised it wasn’t the first time either - these days he found himself slowing himself down to match your pace more and more often. 

“Did something happen recently?” he asked, removing his mask and hanging it on his hip as he knew you were both out of view and earshot of any humans. He then carefully took your mask as well. 

You shook your head. “Nothing’s really happened lately, why do you ask?” 

Rintarou furrowed his brow but nodded. “I was just wondering, that’s all.” 

“You’re making a funny face,” you giggled, “But no, nothing special’s been happening these days. Oh, I was offered a position of priestess but I said I’d rather stay as a shrine maiden.”

“Is that so? Congratulations, though. The offer alone is good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is! But at the same time, I don’t feel like taking it. I’m happy with how things are, and I think Kiyoko-senpai at the shrine is way more suited to becoming the priestess than I am,” you smiled, “I just like helping around where I can and then going to see you when I can.”

Rintarou blinked in surprise but a small smile came to his face as he leaned forward and gave you a soft kiss. “I love seeing you too,” he hummed when he pulled away, hands moving to gently cup your face which looked small in his large hands, “And I’m glad that I can be here for the rest of your life too.”

He pressed his cool forehead to yours and you giggled at the feeling. Just like that night over fifteen years ago, you felt his coolness and a warmth. He was just wonderful. Your arms moved to wrap around his neck and pulled him closer for another kiss. Though the cold wind of winter blew around you, and the falling snow threatened to pile up on your feet, the kiss still felt incredibly hot. Perhaps it was partially due to Rintarou warming you with his own magic, but you felt like you could stay like this forever with him.

Eventually, he pulled away with a little cloud of vapour leaving both your lips. His nose crinkled just a little as he chuckled at the sight of your flushed face. “You look absolutely adorable,” he said and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear before noticing something he wished he hadn’t.

“As much as I’d love to get more kisses from you, Rin, I’d rather we get to your den and sit at the fire that Shinsuke has definitely prepared already,” you teased. 

“Right, right.” He nodded and took your hand once again, leading you to the den even if you had known the path from visiting hundreds, if not thousands, of times.

As the two of you walked, muscle memory leading the way, Rintarou thought about the thing he noticed - the fact that your hair had changed colour.

It wasn’t something he had never seen before, he had seen plenty of the priests, priestesses, and shrine maidens grow old before. Yet somehow it became so much heavier when he realised the same thing was happening to you. Your steps were slower, he could find grey strands, and when you smiled, the creases by your eyes seemed deeper than before. 

He knew about this. He once watched you grow up before his very eyes and get married to another man while he still lived in the body of a child. He anticipated the fact that someday, you would leave the earth and him, but he didn’t think it would hit so suddenly and painfully. 

With his free hand, Rintarou gently touched the soft skin of his face and took in a deep breath, realising that it was happening.

“Rintarou, did something happen?” you asked, noticing he had something on his mind. 

The kitsune turned to you and shook his head before kissing your forehead. “No, nothing’s wrong, Y/N.” He smiled.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

“Y/N, you have to let me heal you.”

“For the last time, Rintarou, I said no!” you cried and pushed him away with what strength you could muster. Though you had gained a lot working for the shrine for so many years, your old age was finally catching up to you. 

A cold wind blew and though the doors to the shrine were closed, a small draft sent a shiver through your old bones. With bony hands, you pulled the futon’s blanket higher on you and laid down. “Please… just don’t.”

It was such a painful sight, to see you slowly succumbing to nature’s will. No matter how many times Rintarou insisted on using his healing to keep you healthy enough to live a long life, you always refused it. 

“Please, just give me some time,” you spoke quietly.

The kitsune bit his lip before nodding. As much as he wanted to spend whatever time he could with you, he respected your wishes and left the room to work on his own duties. 

As you laid in the futon, you stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t hard to tell you didn’t have much time left. At the moment, you couldn’t remember how long you had lived for but if your greying head, wrinkles, and frail body were anything to go by, it was a long time.

“Isn’t it so funny… to see Rintarou in love with an old hag like me?” you asked quietly.

“Not particularly.” A certain voice spoke. You turned your head to see Shinsuke had entered the room and took a seat by you. “We’ve gotten used to you over the many years, ya know?”

“He keeps insisting to take away my sickness and make me younger. I don’t even know if his magic can do that.” You sighed.

“I’m not really sure about it either but in the end it’s yer choice. He can’t force ya to accept any treatment and neither do I think he would,” he shrugged, “But I’ve noticed you’ve been pushin’ him away a lot recently. The boy- the guy comes back all moody and stuff almost everyday.” He still had a little habit of calling him a boy ever since meeting the three foxes.

“Hah… is that so?” you laughed quietly before coughing loudly, “I just don’t want him to be sad when I… you know. Because I know I have to go soon. And this illness in the winter doesn’t help.”

Shinsuke stayed quiet. 

“I wonder if he knows how much I love him. I wonder if he’ll begin to hate me these days. In the end of my years I was always just a trouble to him,” you smile sadly, “He had to carry me to visit you guys, and helped me with so many chores. When we went to watch the fireworks every year, he would also have to pause for me on our walk up, and we even missed it once because I walked so slowly! The following years he would carry me up though.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that memory despite the tears forming in your eyes.

“I wonder if Rin found me a burden,” you continued, “I wanted to do so much for him. Make him snacks or give him books or… I don’t know, just put a smile on his face. But he was always the one doing things for me.”

By the end of your short monologue, your pillow had become soaked with tears. Your body shook slightly, both from the cold and from your sobs.

“I think…” Shinsuke started, “Rintarou loved you just as much. He always came back with a small smile on his face. Whether it was the summer festival nights, or simply sharing a cup of matcha with you in the winter, I believe he thoroughly enjoyed it all.”

“R-Really?” You looked up at the kitsune with puffy eyes.

“I would not lie.” He smiled in reply.

You smiled back softly, relieved to know your ‘husband’ felt that way about you. “Thank you for telling me, Shinsuke. I would- oh!” you exclaimed as you remembered something, “On that table there. There are five books. Can you bring them?” 

Shinsuke reached over to the table and placed five red leather-bound books next to you. “Are these the ones?”

“Yep. They’re my diaries,” you grinned, “The next time Rintarou comes here, I’ll give these to him as my final gift. And if I live on after that… well it’ll be embarrassing if he’s read how I feel about him.”

“Ya say that as if you two ain’t been in a relationship for decades now.”

“Shinsuke! How rude…”

You two shared a small laugh in the winter night. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

A few nights passed and Rintarou shot out of his sleep as he felt something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. 

These past nights, instead of sleeping in the den with the other kitsunes as usual, he had been sleeping on the shrine’s roof. He felt that the closer he was to you, the more at ease he could be. But alas, every night his heart still felt heavy and worried. It didn’t help that the two of you hadn’t talked since the night you asked him to leave you alone. 

But tonight he knew he had to see you. 

Rintarou jumped off the roof and hurried to your room before sliding open the door quickly yet silently. 

“Y/N,” he spoke before gasping as he saw you curled up and shivering under the blanket at the sudden draft of cold air.

“R-Rin? What are you doing-”

Without a word, he quickly shut the door and fell to his knees to hold you close in an attempt to warm you up. Though he could feel your body warming slightly, all he could think about was how cold you were.

“You’re so warm…” You mumbled and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. 

“Mmhm.” You leaned into his chest as your frail fingers trailed their way up his warm body. “So… so warm.”

“I’m using my magic, you know? I’m supposed to be the colder one here.” Rintarou brushed away a few strands of hair in front of your face.

“Hm… I guessed so,” you hummed and gently stroked his soft face. Not that you could really feel it anymore - your fingertips could barely feel anything. “Rin-kun, can I give you something?”

“You should focus on resting. I can get that later when you’ve recovered.” The kitsune insisted. Though he knew he was just saying that in reassurance. Whether that was to you or to himself, he didn’t know.

“Rintarou, we both know I might not live for much longer.” You coughed dryly as you spoke. Slowly, you removed your head from his neck and looked up at him with tired eyes. “Please, just let me do what I want to do.”

Rintarou bit his cheek, staring into your dull eyes with his own golden ones. Sure, he had the powers to heal you, but you kept insisting he let you pass like a normal human would, and neither did he possess the power to bring you back. This truly was a final request from you. 

He nodded and helped you sit up properly, eyes following your hands as they reached for a small stack of books sitting beside you. There were four, no, five books, labelled ‘one’ through to ‘five’. 

“I wrote these. It’s a bit embarrassing to say… but I wrote about my time at the shrine and about you so I wouldn’t ever forget them,” You smiled weakly at your memories of writing in the books almost every night, “I think, in total… my memories with you take up about four of these books.”

Rintarou couldn’t speak. All he could do was let the books rest in his hands, unable to even find the strength to hold them properly. 

“I doubt I kept everything in there. There’s a lot, you know? I forget things and I don’t remember a lot of what I wrote. But I know I wrote about my favourite things like when… when we went fishing and those twins fell in the lake. And the summer festival where it rained so he had to have an extra day for fireworks. And when we held our own marriage ceremony in the forest with Shinsuke as our priest. Do you remember that?”

“Y-Yeah… I remember.” Rintarou’s voice cracked as he remembered the bright sunny day where you held his hand in the glade and shared sake with him. It was funny, thinking that a few decades had passed since that day yet he could remember it like it was yesterday. Yet it was likely already distant for you. 

You looked over and laughed quietly upon seeing him holding back his tears. “I haven’t seen you like this since the wedding.” He chuckled lightly until you began to cough loudly. As always, Rintarou was quick to knock on your back until the coughing stopped and he helped you lie down on your side.

Instinctively, he got under the blanket with you.

“Hm… I’m glad I get to experience my husband holding me one last time,” you say softly and bury your face in his warm chest, “You’ll stay here, right? Until the very end?”

“Of course.” Rintarou mumbled and rested his chin on the top of your greying head. “I’ll always be here.”

“Wouldn’t it be so embarrassing if I woke up the next morning all okay?”

“I wouldn’t laugh.”

“You would in a few days.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“I don’t think it’s happening though.”

“Neither do I.” 

The kitsune stroked your back softly. It was always nice for you, but for him it was calming. He figured that he didn’t want your last memory of him to be of him sobbing uncontrollably. 

“If it were to end like this, I’d be happy though.” Your muffled voice spoke into his chest. It was nice, he thought, the feeling of his chest vibrating as you spoke into it. 

“I’d be happy for you too.” Rintarou mumbled, glad that you couldn’t see his face and the way he was pursing his lips harshly in an attempt to not cry. 

A few more moments of silence passed before he heard your quiet sobbing.

“Actually, I think I don’t want to die. I wish I could live with you forever, Rintarou. I wish that I could kiss you every morning and every night, and I want to watch the fireworks with you every summer festival.” Your tears were soaking his clothes as you sobbed. “I wish… I wish so many things. I’m so happy with what I’ve done in this tiny life with you but I just wish… I wish more could’ve happened.”

It took all of his own power for Rintarou to stay strong, to not weep and make your final memories horribly sad. Alas, a tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and soon more followed, disappearing into the pillow on which his head rested.

He knew he had to say something. 

Taking in a deep breath, he called your name softly and cupped your cheek. The flow of your tears had slowed and you managed to tilt your head up to face your husband.

“I will always, always love you. And someday, whether we exist as ourselves or not, we will love each other again. I promise.”

With his words, you could only begin to cry again, though this time with a smile on your face.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Your voice was tinged with both sadness and playfulness. 

The kitsune smiled weakly at your words and allowed you to lean closer to him, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was weak, tired, and sad. Yet at the same time it was powerful and blissful. He noticed the grip your hands had on his arm weakened and by the time you pulled away from him, it was gone.

You took in a shaky breath and smiled softly.

“I love you, Rintarou.”

And with that, your eyelids shut and the last of your tears fell. 

With that, Rintarou’s body began to shake as he sobbed into your body. Crying, coughing, wailing in the pain of your loss. 

He held you until your body had become as cold as the snow falling outside the door, and by then he knew he had to leave. The other shrine maidens would come to check on you soon anyways. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He mumbled softly and placed a final kiss to your forehead before leaving the room with heavy but silent footsteps.

And as he walked through the snowy forest, he realised how dark it was. Looking up at the sky, he realised only the stars shone without the brilliant moon to accompany them. 

“How fitting,” Rintarou mumbled and turned his gaze back to the snow-covered ground.

[tartagilicious]

history was all you left me > helios

𝓱𝓮𝔂 ✨ ｈｅｙ 👋 ᏂᏋᎩ 🧍🏼‍♀️what’s up yall long time no see- i’ve gotten some really creative requests in the time i’ve been busy/distracted, and i’m excited to finally be sharing them 🥺 also, thank you so much anon! your support and kind words mean the world to me! i took your request and ran with it a bit, so i hope you like it :D

“Hi, congratulations on 1800 followers! I love your writing and get excited every time I see something new from you 😊 can I request something that starts with “did it ever occur to you that you’re hurting me too?” and ends with “you’re not nearly as bad as you think you are” with Kiro/Helios? Idk if this fits, but could “the problem is, if I kissed you, I don’t think I would be able to stop” be added? If not it’s okay! Thank you 😊

[powerful by major lazer]

The best memories are often those you have hardly any of. The lone winter night where you shared an awfully small cup of coffee in a gas station, or the few times you found him lounged in your apartment after a long day at work, always resurface on evenings spent alone. But, that’s how it is now -- small echoes, though not the same as the person, will have to suffice.

A small part of you resents what wants to relive the moments Helios left you, but the other is what drags you out to spots that take a more prominent place: the street you first met him on, the hotpot restaurant tucked in an alleyway that he frequents, even the fountain outside your apartment complex that he’d frequently toss pennies into.

Everything, no matter how insignificant it may seem, holds you above water. You only hope it’ll continue to do so until the day you’re able to see him again.

Weeks pass unhindered, where parts of him continue to remain filtered into your everyday routine. Until one night as you’re walking home from work, and the real deal presents itself on the crosswalk some ways in front of you.

You only see him from behind, but know there’s not a chance you wouldn’t recognise him.

“Helios!” You shout the man’s name with every ounce of strength and dignity you have left, listening as the desperation in your voice reverberates in the night sky. Seeing him today wasn’t how you imagined it would go -- it never seems to be, but even now as you meet him by coincidence in the middle of the night, you’re reminded that everything has the chance to happen under the eyes of fate.

There’s not a soul around you due to the hour, disregarding the few common stragglers here and there. A jumble of embarrassment and regret quickly bubbles up in your chest as quickly as you do try to push it down. You weren’t even sure that he’d stop for you.

That wouldn’t come as much of a surprise anymore, though.

Even now, he stands unmoving out of his own liberty. Helios has been acting this way for a while, avoiding you and pushing back at any of your attempts to reach out, all while retaining his usual cold front at whatever cost necessary. You envied him bitterly for being able to brush you aside so easily, knowing that you, on the other hand, would never let go of him without a fight.

But this time, rather than ignoring you, he stops. It’s almost as if he’s sensed the way your gaze hangs on the back of his head. Whatever the case, though, you take it at face value; you don’t have the emotional capacity to dig any further.

“Seriously,” You sigh in relief as your voice comes out in a whisper. His figure steadily returns to its normal size as you walk closer, broad shoulders staggering almost undetectably as you stop behind him.  

“What made you stop now that wasn’t there before?” You ask, trying very little to hide the bite in your voice. “There must be a good reason you’re ignoring me so shamelessly, right?”

His face is out of view, but you can almost picture the annoyance sparking in his blue eyes. Whether or not that’s what you want, taunting him might be the only surefire way to continue to keep him on a hook. You truly did need a fisherman’s patience when dealing with the man, that was for sure.

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m just busy.”

Your heart pricks with anxiety for a split second before you remember who you’re dealing with.

“What are you talking about? I’d understand if you’re busy, but you can’t even look me in the eye anymore.” You put a hand out in an aimless gesture as you speak, letting it fall back to your side as you finish quietly, “...Did I do something wrong?”

He hums amicably, at last turning around and meeting your gaze. Helios’s eyes are just as strong as you remember, but you don’t break away even as they narrow.

“If you always assume you’re at fault without explanation, I think that should be enough of an answer.” Without further comment, he turns back around and casually pushes the button at the crosswalk. Your jaw drops open at the unexpectedly straight response.

You walk up to him in a huff and put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around reflexibly. “Why do you say one thing and then immediately imply the opposite? Are you trying to dance around the question, or just get away as soon as possible?”

“Aren’t you aware that both of those conclusions hurt?” You hesitantly retract your hand, sighing as you scratch the top of your head in a sudden fit of bashfulness. “I just thought we were friends, you know? I hate that the only part of you I ever see is your back.”

“___,” Helios sighs, looking back over his shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. It’s only in your best interest to distance yourself from me.”

You scoff. His words make your blood boil and drain your lungs of air.

“Who are you to decide that for me?” Your voice wavers as you shake your head firmly, crossing your arms under the scrutiny as he watches you carefully. “You’re not nearly as bad as you think you are.”

“I won’t let you paint yourself as some villain, or martyr that only hurts those around them. Not as long as the person who stands in front of me is the same.”

He cocks his head, mouth briefly falling open and closed before he waves his hand. “I don’t think you understand, in the end, it doesn’t matter how you see me, or how I think of myself. ___, I bring danger whether you like or not. I’m not the bad guy for wanting to keep you out of it.”

“I’m grateful for the sentiment, but your help does little but cause pain for us both. I’m not quite that different, danger always finds its way to me as well.” You chuckle sadly, missing the way his eyes flicker away. “I’m the queen. It can’t be helped.”

There’s something more to his words, his argument, even -- you can tell. But recognising the foreclosed look that takes over his expression just as well as you can his striking reluctance, you know that he won’t share his concerns any further.

“..Then, how about I simplify it?” Helios looks you straight in the eye, lips pursing as if making a casual agreement. “I don’t want to add to your plate.”

He then turns to push the button at the crosswalk, but you catch his wrist just as he moves away.

“Add to it. Or, are you afraid?”

Helios’s eyes silently trail down to your hand, and for a moment, you almost feel as if you’re in trouble. However, his low voice sounds just before you can admit any last minute regrets.

“...And how would you like me to do that?”

He bends closer to say this, warm breath hitting your ear awfully striking against the cold winter air. You move your head to meet his eyes at an awkward angle, brows pinched. “W-Well,” You briefly stumble over your words, letting your eyes wander selfishly over his face. “...A hello kiss would be nice,”

Helios processes this for a moment before scoffing, leaning back and placing a hand flat on your head. “You’re too spoiled.”

You elbow him away as a flush spreads across your face. Helios takes a step back as a noise almost resembling a laugh leaves his mouth, hand slipping from your hair. There’s a distinct tinge to his pale skin as he mumbles, “The problem is, if I kissed you, I don’t think I would be able to stop.”

“Then, what I’m hearing is a no?”

“Didn’t say that.”

[ineloqueent]

dreaming of you

Brian May x Reader

synopsis: a storm results in a power cut, after you get locked out of your flat. luckily, your neighbour is home.

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i hope you don’t mind that i took a few creative liberties with the prompts, m’dear <3

see the moodboard here!

⭒

London, 1973

It was one of those days that simply went from bad to worse. And then fell down the stairs. And into a frying pan. And then leapt out of the frying pan and into the fire. Except the fire was not simply a fire, but a flaming pit, that was somehow also freezing cold and pitch black.

In short, you’d had a terrible day. And as life would have it, your day was about to get a hell of a lot worse.

It had started that morning, when you’d got out on the wrong side of the bed, quite literally. You had fallen face-first over your office chair, which stood mere millimetres from the left side of your bed, because you lived in a tiny flat on Camden High Street, above a shoe shop, where, in the winter there was rarely hot water in the pipes, and you were forced to scrape ice off of the bathroom mirror with a razor in order to see your reflection.

So, you’d fallen out of bed and bruised— your forehead— instantly, only to realise that you’d slept through your alarm, and forgotten to lay out clothes for the day the night before. This was then followed by a rushed—  cold— shower, and jumping in front of the iced-over mirror to glimpse the large bump already forming on your forehead.

You’d made it to the kitchen, and found that you’d run out of both coffee and tea, forcing you to decide between going without caffeine, or being late to work in the process of getting a takeaway beverage. You opted for the latter, and sprinted out the front door with your scarf only half-slung around your neck.

You’d shouted a hasty good morning to your shop keeper neighbour from the lower floor, before running straight into your other neighbour, the one who lived right next door to you, and shared your rice paper-thin walls.

He’d narrowly avoided spilling his cup of scalding coffee down your front, but in avoiding spilling it on you, the poor bloke had instead dropped the mug at his feet, and watched it shatter to pieces, coffee spattering his white shoes.

Still, he was the first to apologise.

He was like that, Brian May. Very polite. Well-mannered. Ever the friendly neighbour.

And very beautiful. You’d noticed.

Off to work you’d rushed, once you’d helped him to clean up the mess, because you weren’t about to leave him standing in a pile of shattered porcelain, the existence of which was quite honestly your fault.

You’d been not five, not ten, not twenty, but thirty minutes late to work, and your boss had been none too pleased.

“Deadlines,” he’d told you. “We have deadlines!”

Deadlines your arse. You’d watched that man leisurely read his morning paper, with his feet on an ottoman, whilst you scrambled to get your affairs in order.

It’d then been a drab day, working at the newspaper, because it seemed that nothing was happening in the world, outside of your own little corner, where everything seemed to be happening all at once, and thus, there was no story for you to write. You’d been reduced to running fax and photocopies for various people, and— ironically— doing a coffee run, because everyone else was too busy for such a frivolous thing as a coffee run. Funny, though; for all they shunned the coffee run, they could not do without their precious caffeine to fuel their productivity.

The day seemed to drag on, and when it finally let up, the rain came down with the night, and you, with no umbrella and a good walk on either side of your tube ride, stared miserably through the window at the depressing weather.

But at home, pasta and television and your lovely, soft bed awaited you, and so, you were desperate to get home as quickly as possible.

With a sigh, you stepped outside, and let the rain soak you as you went on your way, having once read in a scientific study in the newspaper which had concluded from a series of experiments that one got more wet from running through rain than from walking through it.

The tube was crowded, as usual, and like a good citizen, you offered your seat to an elderly lady, only to realise upon second glance that she was not elderly at all, and you had just morally offended a rather prim-looking business woman. And lost your seat to the smirking man who’d watched the exchange occur.

You tracked mud all the way up to your flat, nearly breaking your foot at least twice when you nearly slipped on the rain-slick wood of the stairs.

The final nail— or so you thought—  in the coffin of your terrible day came when you fumbled in your jacket pockets for your key.

The sinking feeling in your stomach was perhaps the heaviest you’d ever felt.

In your rush that morning, you’d forgotten your key.

Brian May walked up the stairs just in time to see you kick your shoe off in frustration, and let out a laugh at the sight of you.

You looked up from your abused shoe to find Brian paused at his door, one eyebrow slightly raised in concern.

“Alright?” he asked, dubiously.

You took a deep breath, in an attempt to remain calm and appear normal at the height of your despair. “I’ve had a shitty day, since before you saw me this morning, and now I’ve locked myself out of my flat. Alright, you think?”

“No,” he conceded, “but it seemed polite to ask.”

“Do you always just do what’s polite?” you sighed.

“Now that,” said Brian, inclining his head, “wasn’t very polite.”

You shook your head quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I meant it in a much more flattering way, like, you never fail to be polite, even when it’s hard to be, or when I’m sure you’d much rather say something sarcastic, or even just plain rude. You know,” you rambled, “you’re good at that—” you waved a hand, and amusement flitted across his eyes— “filter thing. You have a filter, I mean.”

“And you don’t,” he observed.

“Exactly.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, for once,” said Brian, “you look an absolute wreck, but—”

At that moment was when the real final nail of the coffin fell into place.

Because at that moment, accompanied by an ear-splitting peal of thunder, lightning struck, and eradicated the power supply of approximately one-third of the London metropolitan area.

“Bloody hell,” Brian remarked, as the rumble of thunder receded. The two of you stood in darkness on the landing, and while before, there had only been one bare lightbulb to light your surroundings, it was greatly different to be standing in total darkness when the city outside had become equally as dark.

“The power—”

You thought Brian nodded across from you where he stood, in the blackness of the hall.

“So…” you muttered. “What now?”

“Well, given our presently rather strange circumstances, I’ll offer to let you sleep on my sofa, and we can talk to Clarisse in the morning.”

Clarisse owned the shoe shop beneath your flats, and therefore your flats as well. She was yours and Brian’s landlady, but, as with her shop, she was only ever in from nine to five. Given that it was now six in the evening, she was most certainly long gone.

You considered Brian’s offer.

The two of you had shared a landing for four, almost five years now, since you’d each come to London, and yet, though you were friendly, you’d never got past having coffee together. You knew that Brian was studying astrophysics at Imperial College, which was very impressive indeed, and that he was the guitarist in a talented, but relatively unknown band. You’d encountered the other members of the band a few times here and there, every year, given that they sometimes practiced, or held meetings, at Brian’s residence. Clarisse didn’t mind the band playing, and as the next door building always had loud music pounding, there was no danger of annoying the neighbours to the point of the police being phoned, so Brian and his band were free to hold their rehearsals. You knew they were talented because you could hear them playing through said rice paper-thin walls.

And having had coffee with the man in question at least three times, you felt safe enough in taking up his offer. You only regretted that in all your years living next door to him, you’d never invited him over. Then again, he’d never invited you over either. But here he was now, in your hour of need, and that had to count for something.

You nodded gratefully, then remembered that he probably couldn’t see you all too well, and said,

“I think I’ll take up your offer. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nonsense,” said Brian. “I’m just polite.”

You thought he might have winked, but of course, in the dark, you couldn’t be sure.

He unlocked his front door, and you followed him inside.

“Watch out for the—”

You stumbled over what felt and sounded to be a guitar case.

“Oh shit, fuck, I’m sorry,” you apologised profusely.

He chuckled. “It’s fine. It’s empty.”

“Oh, thank god,” you muttered. “Thought I’d just destroyed something, again.”

“Yeah, it was bad enough that you ruined my coffee cup this morning.”

Reflexively, you covered your blush with your hand. “Please don’t remind me,” you groaned.

“I won’t miss it,” Brian assured you, tossing his keys onto a little table. “It was a hideous thing. Something Fred got me once from Kensington Market, where he works. Pretty sure the thing was second-hand too.”

Fred. Freddie, lead singer of the band you’d only heard through walls. Funny, charming, friendly though shy.

You wrinkled your nose. “Second-hand…”

“Yeah. He’s got no taste, silly bugger.” Though Brian’s remarks sounded harsh, he spoke with a fondness that could only have been reserved for the highest regard of friendships, and you thought that he and his bandmates must be quite good friends.

“Hungry?” Brian asked. “I’ve only got some left-over lasagna, unfortunately, since I wasn’t expecting company, and it’s vegetarian, but we can heat it up in the oven, and there’s enough for the both of us.”

“Honestly, Brian, that sounds delicious.”

Your eyes had begun to adjust to the dark, and so you saw his smile in response to your comment.

“Well, great. I’ll heat that up, then. Make yourself at home. If you can find the living room,” he added with a laugh. “There’s some candles in the chest of drawers by the window, so if you get those out, I’ll find some matches too, and we can have some light.”

“Will do.”

You set about your task, managing to only stub your toe once after removing your shoes, and set up candles about the living room, where you assumed Brian intended to set up dinner.

He brought you matches, and brought with him a glass bottle.

“Wine?” he offered you, having poured himself a glass, and you accepted, because it was Friday night and what the hell.

You lit the candles as Brian went back to his cooking, and before long, he returned with the lasagna dished up.

As your host sat down across from you, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself.

With the candles providing a rather romantic glow, catching on Brian’s pretty ringlet curls and dancing in his eyes, plus the wine, and now, the static-y music coming in over a battery-powered radio, this atmosphere was a lot cosier than you had expected.

Brian furrowed his brow at your noise of amusement. “What..?”

“Are we on a date right now?”

With a glance about the room, with its overstuffed cushions and stitched drapes, the two of you eating a meal by candlelight, Brian laughed too.

“It would seem that way.”

He raised his glass to you, and you would have been lying if you’d said that the gesture and his words hadn’t made your heart skip a beat.

You ate in silence for a few moments, until Brian spoke again.

“Would you mind awfully if we were?

The question startled you a little, and you swallowed your wine carefully.

“No,” you said honestly.

A small smile graced his mouth, before his eyes dropped to his lap. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I always meant to ask you out.”

You blurted, “Did you really?”

He smiled fully now. “Yeah. But I’ve always been so damn shy.”

You were the one to raise your glass this time. “Well, here we are now. And you’re not getting rid of me. At least until tomorrow.”

He laughed gently in response, and you thought of how lovely and warm the sound was.

If only you were as warm as that laugh. The rain that had soaked your clothes was beginning to take its toll on you.

You finished dinner in silence, and Brian cleared the plates in silence too.

He came back after washing the dishes, just in time to see you shiver.

“Oh, yes,” he said thoughtfully. “Extra blankets.”

He fetched them, but then looked down at the bundle in dismay. It was very little; you could both see that.

You watched him close his eyes briefly in the wash of candlelight, saw him grit his teeth. You waited with bated breath for what he was going to say.

“It gets really cold here at night.”

This you already knew, from your experiences at your own flat.

“Yeah.”

“And it’ll get even colder now that we’ve lost all form of central heating… Forgive me if this is entirely over the line...” he sighed, and opened his eyes, watching you with a cautiousness that betrayed nerves. “But it might be best if I sleep here, near you. Body heat, and all that.”

“Oh,” you said, blushing slightly. Stupid blush. “Yes, that’s probably a— uh— good idea.”

“Right. Um. Bathroom’s down the hall, if you wanted to chan— oh. Well. Hang on. I’ll get you a jumper or something to change into.”

Your blush only deepened, knowing that you would be wearing his clothes.

You couldn’t look at him when you took the dry, clean clothes he handed you, and hurried to change in the bathroom, before returning to the makeshift bed now established on the floor of Brian’s living room.

He brushed past you to use the bathroom himself.

You slid under the duvet laid out, and shifted the pillow beneath your head, making yourself comfortable.

Brian returned, and began extinguishing the candles around the room.

Finally, a soft shuffling sound announced that he had laid down beside you, and you released a breath of relief, knowing you could soon go to sleep and forget the awkwardness you were so adept at in your conscious state.

But then you noticed that Brian, in his flannel pyjama trousers and t-shirt, was going to sleep with only a single blanket pulled over him; he’d let you have the duvet without a word.

You weren’t about to let him freeze to death on his own living room floor.

With a courage you knew not from where, you rolled over to face Brian. Or rather, Brian’s back. He was turned away from you. He probably thought you’d already gone to sleep.

You laid your hand gently on his shoulder, and he turned slowly.

“Hey,” you murmured, as his eyes met yours. “Sleepover?” You offered the duvet, a gift of peaceable intentions.

He smiled softly, and accepted with grace. But it was a stretch, with how far he lay from you.

“Oh, come here,” you said, and draped your arm over his lithe waist, drawing him closer to you. A little wine-tipsy and a little tired, a little cold, a little lonely, you nestled your cheek against his chest, your hands against warm skin beneath thin fabric.

Slowly, his arms wrapped around you too, and you breathed a soft sigh against his skin.

“Is this alright?” he asked carefully.

In silent response, you lifted your head, and kissed his pretty lips.

He reciprocated almost immediately, his kiss sleepy but tender, and you pecked his mouth gently once more. Then you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, and touched the skin there with another caress of your lips.

“Tomorrow,” you whispered, and he ghosted a kiss upon your temple.

“I can wait for tomorrow,” he said.

And soon you both drifted off, you in warmth and contentment, and Brian dreaming of you.

[littlebitoffanfic]

Lessons

Fandom: Wrong Turn 4 Relationship: Sawtooth, One Eye, Three Finger Request: I haven’t done this before but I was wondering if you could right a one shot for the hilliker brothers from wrong turn. I would like it to take place during wrong turn 4 but if that’s not something you can/want to do then you can choose. I’m not picky. I really love your blog btw and you’re such a talented writer and I just can’t wait for what you have planned next. I wish you the best of luck!

A/n: I wasn’t sure if you meant it to take place during the actual movie. Then I started thinking about having the reader around during the plot and my mind ran away with the idea. I took some creative liberties with the plot. Hope you don’t mind 😊 also, if this isn’t what you were after, just let me know. Im always happy to revisit these guys haha.

  You were fuming. Absolutely livid as you paced back and forth by the doors, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for them to get back. It was bad enough they had left while you were mid argument but then to be this late back? It was dark out, and they knew you hated the dark in the hospital. Part of you wondered if they were doing it to teach you something. That you couldn’t be there without them. You shook off the thought as best you could. But it still lingered. None of you would make it in the outside world, and you could easily survive without them. You could hunt and defend yourself, plus you didn’t have the… physical differences which would make it easier for you to blend into normality. Not that you ever wanted to. And you were sure they would survive if you walked away. But you all stayed together because you loved them dearly, and they loved you. They never said so, they couldn’t speak properly, but they showed it. And on the rare occasions you fought with the brothers, they were the first to apologies.  Today, Sawtooth, One Eye and Three Finger had been unhappy with you because you had went out after someone on your own. You hadn’t been hurt, but you knew that if he had been the slightest bit brighter or stronger, he could have given you a run for your money. But instead of congratulating you for a good kill, Sawtooth got protective, as did the brothers. 

“I can protect myself. I don’t need you hovering over me all the time!” You ended up shouting at them, out of pure annoyance. Sawtooth raised an eyebrow before straightening up and walking out, his brothers in tow. They glanced back at you, but they agreed with Sawtooth and that meant they would follow him. They had all left in the truck 7 hours ago, driving off into the snow. You knew they had been planning on setting up wire around the grounds so if someone was running, they would get caught, so it wasn’t like they had just stormed off. There had been a job to do. But then the hours rolled on and the sun began to set and you felt the fear set in. the building was old, and creaked under the awful weather that only seemed to get worse. To make everything just that little more worse, the powerlines were down and while you could start the generator yourself, you hated going down into the basement to do it. One Eye always did it. Just as you were about to go up and try go to sleep, you heard the sound of engines. Not car ones, but more like motorbikes. Frowning, you looked out one of the top windows and your heart dropped. 4 snowmobiles pulled up outside the hospital. Each had 2 people riding on them. Shit shit shit. One, two or maybe three people you could deal with, but this many? No, you couldn’t cope. You felt panic begin to set in as you tried to think of what to do. The brothers were gone and you had no idea when they’d get back. They had taken their truck and, if they were stuck out in the snow, they were more than happy to bunker down wherever. The best thing you could think to do was keep a close eye on the new comers. Find out whos connected to who, whos weakest, easier to scare, smartest etc. It was all you could. You quietly ran through the hospital, a skill you learned from your many chases with Three Finger. The sounds echoed off the long, deserted halls as you tried to pinpoint where they were, not wanting to run right into them. As the echoes died down, it told you they had entered a room with furnishings. Your knowledge of the building told you it was the lounge area, which the large fire place, some old couches and wheelchairs. You would sit in the large windows in the summer, the warm sun providing a lovely warmth while you read. But in the winter, the room got an awful draft so you and the boys basically abandoned it. You abandoned most the rooms during winter. The main ones that kept being used were the kitchen, the ‘bedroom’ in the attic and a couple of the rooms on the upper floor. Heat rises, after all. As you approached the room, you knew you were right. Slipping into a little janitors closet that had a chip lock so you could lock it from the inside, you knew there was a vent that lead directly between the two. No, you wouldn’t risk crawling inside, but it did allow you to listen. The closet itself was bigger than a standard closet, and mainly empty apart from a bucket, 3 tiered unit that came up to your hips and unit with shelves built into it which was about 5 foot tall and right next to the vent. So you jumped up on the first unit then sat on the second, now able to touch the roof if you reached up just above your head. You heard a girl asking for someone to find stuff to burn. There were footsteps leaving the room before they started talking about someone called Porter. You wondered if the guy you had killed earlier was called Porter, but then you remembered he had had ID that named him David Smith. there was some more talk about phone service, then the others came back and, from the sounds of it, they light a fire. You almost bash your head back on the wall out of boredom. For people who talk so much, they talk about the most dull shit in the world. then they spoke about looking around. Despite wanting to stay in your den, you followed the bigger group as they explored, keeping as close as you could. They went through the files, and you felt a rage build in your chest as they mocked the people who used to be trapped up in here. Just like the guards had. The guards didn’t have so much to say when there wasn’t bars separating them from the people they taunted. You happened to glance out the window when you saw three figures approaching the building. Sawtooth, One Eye and Three Finger. They were focused on what ever they were dragging back, so hadn’t seen the snowmobiles out front. You wondered where the truck was, but then realized it must have gotten stuck somewhere due to the storm. You paused for a moment, frowning. They had trekked back through the storm on foot? They could have bunkered down in the truck for the night, so why fight against the storm? You were happy they were home, but you still felt a rush of anger at the situation. You needed to see them, so you quickly and silently made your way to them. Your pondering meant they had already been through the halls and to the kitchen. When you ran in the room, you noticed how One Eye flinched when he walked in and saw you storming towards them. Three Finger refused to meet your eyes as they filed into the room. But Sawtooth wasn’t with them. “Where have you been?!” You hiss, your voice breaking. Three Finger held up some barbed wire then tossed it to the side when he saw you were still just as angry. Just then, a large figure entered the room, dragging something behind. Something about Sawtooths presence made you feel uneasy. Mainly because you two were still angry at each other. But before anything could be said, he threw the body on the floor between you and the brothers. If this were any other time, you’d have smiled, making a joke about it being a sacrifice to please you. But something niggled at the back of your head. approaching the body, you fell to your knees beside it and started rummaging through the pockets. Until you found a wallet. Opening it up, you found a driving licence. With the name Porter. “Well, that’s one less loose end.” You threw the wallet down. You huffed, about to cuss when suddenly, all the lights flickered on and the sound of loud laugher and cheering echoed through the corridors. Immediately, you saw the three of them go ridged. You rose to your feet, not looking the brothers in the eyes. Turning on your heel, you left the room but they followed. Dragging behind you, you all went towards the noise, slipping into an observatory room with two way glass, you crossed your arms and glared at the group as the brothers looked through the glass. You were now not only angry at the brothers, but at the people as well. They had been the doctors office, had seen some of the files there, they KNEW of the suffering people had endured in these halls and they were dancing around like fucking morons. You saw Three Finger flinch, backing away from the glass a little as they realized why you were so on edge. Why you were now so angry. One Eye looked at you, the guilt obvious in his eyes as he reached out, prepared to comfort you. But you backed away from him, refusing to look at them as you shook your head. Fresh tears pooled in your eyes. They hadn’t been here when you really needed them because they were mad at you. And although they didn’t know of the people coming, you couldn’t just ignore the ache in your chest. You walked through the brothers, who parted to let you through until Sawtooth grabbed your arm. You jumped, not expecting it as you looked up at him. In all honestly, you didn’t know what he wanted. Perhaps it was instinct and he didn’t want you to leave upset. Or perhaps it was because he didn’t want you wondering off when there was a new threat within the building. But you wanted to prove a point, so you yanked your arm back but just as you were about to leave the room, the group of people started using the old wheelchairs as toys and rolled around like morons before making their way to the auditorium. you creeped behind them, with the boys behind you.   you were about to creep to the door when One Eye caught your hand. As with his brother, you were about to yank away when he nodded to the stairs which lead to the upper floor. As if to show you, he pulled you up the stairs and towards the balcony where the group now sat speaking below. One Eye waited by your side, eager for praise from you, but you were too distracted as they managed to play something that made your insides twist painfully. It was the recording of One Eye during an electrotherapy session. You watched as he wrestled against the restrains then his whole body writhed in pain. ‘session’ actually meant ‘punishment’. And One Eye normally ended up in these ‘sessions’ because of you. If he thought the guards were too rough or cruel to you, he would act out. He had attacked god knows how many people because of how they treated you. And he would be punished every time. You remembered crying against the bars as they threw his limp body into the cell with his brothers. Turning, you saw One Eye had noticed the film playing. He had shrank into himself, his gaze on the floor and you noticed his hands were shaking slightly. Stepping closer, you ducked your head under his own and pressed your lips against his in a few chase kisses before nuzzling your cheek against his own as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He responded to your affections, his arms snaking around your waist as he buried his face in your neck. He held you so tight that it hurt, but you didn’t care. You saw something move out the corner of your eyes, your head snapping to see Three Finger and Sawtooth. Three Finger snarled when he noticed the film, obviously defensive of his brother. Sawtooth’s fists clenched by his sides, his face stoic. One Eye pulled back when he noticed his brothers, but didn’t dare let go of you. “We’re in this together, right?” You looked to Sawtooth, who nodded in agreement. “Okay, then this is just like any other prey.” All three nodded in agreement.

 The group of intruders had settle down in the old rooms used for those who could be kept in normal rooms, rather than cells. The brothers were now hard at work, making sure everything was in place for tomorrow. Which included setting up the normal kind of traps. You were about to go back up into your bedroom when you noticed one of the men had went wondering. Right to where Sawtooth had set up the body of Porter. Running, you grabbed Sawtooth by the sleeve and pulled him towards the nurses station.  Apparently, you didn’t need to say a word as he understood. The man started to try square up to the body, threatening him until he seemed to recognise the clothes. You and Sawtooth waited in the shadows until the man touched the body and saw the blood. He turned, but Sawtooth was quick and blocked his path. Using a long metal spike, he jammed it up, through the mans nose and out the other side of the head, killing him. You went to help with the body but Sawtooth pushed you back with a grunt. He gestured towards the kitchen, where the other brothers were preparing some weapons. You tried to follow him again but he dropped the body and stood at his full height, a deep growl leaving his chest. You knew better than to push him further, so you backed off.  He dragged the body towards a half open door, using his foot to kick it further open and you watched before disappearing to find the others.   There was a silence between you both, still some kind of argument going on. You found the others in the back office of the kitchen. The chiefs office, which had a couch that you on, pondering everything that’s happened.

---------------time skip --------------

You don’t know when you passed out, sitting on the floor while One Eye and Three Finger worked on some weapons. When you woke the next morning, Three Finger had moved to sit in front of you and you had a blanket over you. He didn’t appear to be doing anything. Just guarding you as you slept. Reaching out, you ran your finger across his shoulder to let him know you were awake. He turned with a smile, instantly kneeling up beside you and nuzzling into your neck. You couldn’t help but giggle at the affection. One Eye came into the room, chucking something on top of a pre-existing pile crap that you recognised as some of the things the group had left in the lounge. You noticed some cables, spark plug wires from the snowmobiles. He beamed when he noticed you were awake. The morning did feel a lot better, and you were actually excited for the thrill of the chase now.   “Wheres Sawtooth?” You asked, sitting up as Three Finger leaned back. He gestured vaguely towards the door, but you understood. Keeping an eye on the others. As if summoned by your words, Sawtooth walked past the room with a body flung over his shoulders. Three Finger got to his feet and left after him, gurgling to himself. One Eye came and sat by your feet as, fiddling with his fingers in an awkward and shy way. You smiled and crawled to his side, cuddling into him. A sigh of relief left his throat as he pulled you close, apparently afraid you might wake up still annoyed. Three Finger ran back into the room, followed by Sawtooth, now holding a small bundle. A soft grunt told you all that it was time. They were exploring and about to find some unsavoury things. Just as you were about to stay, a grunt drew your attention and the thing Sawtooth was holding was tossed at you. It was wrapped in Porters jacket and you could feel it was the head of someone. Porter or the man who found him, you didn’t know yet. But you felt a swell of pride. Whatever Sawtooth had planned, you were apparently getting a role to play. Disappearing out, you all follow quickly and you started to hear running. The group was split up and agitated. Sawtooth lead you to the auditorium, signalling for his brothers to go up stairs and you to hide behind the black curtains that hid the sides of the stage while the screen was down before he followed his brothers. You managed to hide just in time as they started to funnel in. From what you could gather, they knew one guy was missing, they had seen the blood, they knew you were around somewhere and they needed to get out. Just then, one girl ran in screaming “Theyre gonna kill us all.” The drama queen inside you told you now was the perfect time. You threw the jacket covered object out onto the floor in front of them. “That looks like Porters jacket.” One said. “That is Porters jacket.” The other replied. You peaked around the corner, seeing the black haired girl was approaching it with fear. As she unwrapped the package, you noticed the metal, barbed wire noose that was lowering down from the balcony, a blonde haired girl backing closer to it. Looking up, you saw the brothers had made a pully system. Screams of terror filled the room and during the hysteria, the brothers managed to loop the metal around the girls neck and haul her up. The guy she was with tried to stop her, to help her, but he only made it worse. He grabbed her feet and pulled her down, allowing the metal to saw through her neck with ease at the tension. The rest of the group simply screamed, tried to get out the side doors which were locked. The man lost his grip and slipped back into the puddle of blood, screaming just before she was fully decapitated, her body falling either side of him as the group ran for the main exit. He screamed again before tried to get up but slipped on to the blood again and again before running for the exit after his friends. That was entertaining.   Once clear, you left your hiding spot just as the boys came down. You walked to the edge of the stage, in no real hurry as Sawtooth came up. He came up and gently lifted you down, making you giggle and press a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want this feud to drive a wedge between you both. But you had no idea if he accepted your little ‘truce’. The four of you went back to the kitchen. The group couldn’t go anywhere anyway. They would either freeze to death outside, or come back in and barricade themselves in one of the offices near the front door. You ended up sitting on the counter while Three Finger carved up the headless body. There was a new sense of peace in the group and you felt whatever tension between you and Sawtooth had mostly disappeared. The boys squabbled as always as Sawtooth tried to take a little more than a snack and Three Finger wasn’t having it. If there was something Three Finger prided himself on, it was being able to strip flesh from bone in a clean way, and it didn’t look clean if Sawtooth kept picking at it. You smiled, but never ate anything raw. You didn’t like it, but the brothers did. Suddenly, you heard running, heading for the lower levels. But you saw Three Finger had heard it too. He threw his cleaver into the meat and ran to follow, scooping up an axe on the way. You considered going with him, till One Eye appeared and took the moment to step in front of where you were sitting and kiss you. But he too left, heading towards where the group must have bunkered down. Probably to torment them a little more. Sawtooth walked in as you had just jumped down, feeling a little lonely. He walked up to the body, about to take another piece but you slapped him hand away with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He knew you were playing, and simply picked you up and moved you away to grab a bite. You huffed indignantly but he carried you into the chiefs office and sat you down with a strict “stay” gesture before he disappeared too. -------------------

You didn’t hear anything again from the boys until screaming filled the kitchen. You felt a surge of dread while disappeared when you looked out and saw they were tying down one of the guys to the table. You felt a shiver run through your spin because you knew what they were going to do. You didn’t like when they stripped flesh off of someone whos alive. You didn’t like the way they screamed during it, but you help nevertheless. You didn’t let anyone cut the potatoes or onion because you were convinced they would chop off their fingers one day. Three Finger heated up the oil and you brought the cutting board with veg over to the group. Placing it down, you felt One Eye grab your hand, silently asking you to stay, but you shook your head, kissing his cheek to show you didn’t have any issues with them though. You disappeared into the chiefs office, content with reading through the recipe books. You sat for a while, flipping through the books while the screams slowly died down. When they finally seemed to stop, you ventured out, smiling as you entered the kitchen with the boys. One Eye went to smile back at you, but apparently was in the middle of biting down and started to choke. You didn’t noticed straight away as you cleared away a couple of things but then you noticed Three Finger and Sawtooth hitting his back. You were about to panic, when one of Three Fingers knocks made him cough up the chunk and it flew across the table into the oil. Three Finger and One Eye started to cackle just as you were about to laugh when suddenly, someone smashed something red across the back of Sawtooths head. The man then went for one Eye but Sawtooth pushed him passed the table as Three Finger managed to back the man off a bit. Until screaming filled the room. It all happened so quickly. The group ran into the room, screaming and brandishing weapons. In all truth, you didn’t originally move. It was Sawtooth who grabbed you and pushed you to move and run. You didn’t get a chance to think as you raced through the hallway only to have one way blocked off with fire. Down into the cells you were all chased before, somehow, you ended falling into a cell at the dead end. not just any cell, though. The Hillikers original cell. The group slammed the door shut, locking you in. Sawtooth stood with his arms held out in front of his brothers, Three Finger to his left and One Eye to hid right. You were positioned directly behind the three of them. “Lets kill them.” Someone walked up the corridor, the girl who had caused the fire. “yeah, Jenna, lets do it.” The shorter girl with black hair agreed. “wait, wait. We cant just kill them.” The taller girl shook her head, looking confused. “Why the fuck not?” The man snapped. “They killed our friends and theyre gonna kill us then fucking eat us.” “Yeah we’re not them.” The tall black haired girl gestured towards the cell. “Fuck that!” The man turned to the cell, shining the torch in. “look at me. Look. At. Me. Fuck you, you mother fuckers. Im gonna cut your heart out, you mother fuckers. You understand that?” “I didn’t know there was a girl.” The girl with the curly black hair spoke, eyeing you up just before Three Finger stepped in front of you, snapping his jaws at them. “Shes fucking them.” The guy suddenly realised, his eyes darting to the brothers who instantly became more protective of you. “What, is she your sister? Freaks!” “No, she doesn’t look like them.” Another said. “I saw her file. Well, Daniel showed me. She was just dump here by her parents. They, they bonded or something. I dunno. But the file said never leave them all together.” “We aren’t opening that cell again, Sara!” The girl who was with ‘Sara’ shook her head, backing away from the cell. “No, youre right, Bridget.” The man gritted his teeth, turning to the girl with the yellow top. “Go get the other kerosene lantern. We’re gonna roast these fuckers alive.” You felt a new wave of fear run through your veins as the girl took off running. The girl who had spoke out against the idea looked deeply troubled as the man, who was still covered in his girlfriends blood, glared into the cell. One Eye glanced to you, and you could see he was worried. You all were. When she came back, the man started to dump the oil from the lantern through the cell door and onto the floor. All three backed away and you ended up pressed against the furthest wall, Three finger stepping closest to you. he finished and then pulled out a lighter. “Time for a barbecue, fuckers.” He growled at you all. You noticed Sara closed her eyes, seeming as if she was against this idea as well. “Kyle. Don’t do this.” The girl, whos name you think is Kenia, says. “They deserve it.” Kyle turns to the group, apparently sensing that it wasn’t a universal agreement. “Yeah they do, but you don’t.” She steps closer. “Don’t do this to yourself. Give me that lighter. Give me the lighter.” After a tense moment, one which you were sure he would throw the lighter down and set the floor on fire, he flicked it close and shoved the lighter back in his pocket. “Well, what are we gonna do now?” Bridget threw her hands up in the air in annoyance. “We find the spark plug wires, and we leave in the morning. Storm or no storm.” Kenia said before turning to the cell and talking to the four of you. “Where are the spark plug wires?” The wires. Theyre in the chiefs office. You had closed over the door, but would they think to look int here? You didn’t know. No one answered her, One Eye flitting to the other side of the cell. “Basards cant even talk.” Kyle rolls his eyes. “Fine, then we search. Room by room.” Kenia thinks quickly. “Okay but somebody has to watch them.” Jenna nods to you. “I will.” Kyle volunteers and you instantly raise an eye brow. It appeared from Kenias expression, she had the same thoughts as yours because he turned to her. “I wont touch a fucking hair on their head. Okay?” “Okay.” “Just go look for the wires. Send someone back in a couple of hours to relieve me. We’ll take shifts throughout the night.” He rattles off his plan, and apparently everyone silently agrees as thye file out of the room, leaving him. “Hey, you?” Kyle spoke directly to One Eye who was circling back to you, but was curious and paused. “Are you hungry?” You felt sick, knowing this was going to be some sick joke. But One Eye was the most trusting of the three brothers as the man offered him something from a packet. Before you could stop him, One Eye went to the bars but the man hit his hand.

“Fuck you, motherfuckers. You thought I was actually gonna feed you?” Three finger let out a cackle as One Eye back away to you. You instantly looked at his hand, making sure of no damage. Sawtooth growled lowly. “You know im actually gonna kill all four of you, don’t you? I will. Im gonna say I forgot something, then im gonna come back and im gonna kill each and every one of you freaks.” “Piss off.” You hissed, looking up at him. “You- you speak.” He shines the touch at you, so you smirk at him. “Right, you speak. Motherfucker. So, why’d you do it? Huh?” “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” You walk up to the bars, placing your forehead against the cool metal. “Wheres the sparkplug wires?” He raised the flashlight and shone it into your face. You smiled, and with a half-hearted shrug of the shoulders, you retreated from the cell door. “Just sleep tight.” Kyle snaps at you through the bars. All three of the brothers quickly moved in front of you, making you smile softly at them. You felt dread building in your chest as you struggled to think of something. You walked into the corner off the cell, struggling to breath as you felt the walls closing in on you. You needed to hide the panic you felt from the group. But you hadn’t been down this area since the breakout, and for good reason. Closing your eyes, you tried to calm yourself so you could think straight. Someone rubbed your arms reassuringly and you opened your eyes to see Three Finger standing in front of you. You immediately stepped close to him, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you sought intimacy. He offered you it, almost purring when you cuddle into him and his arms wrapped around you. For a while, he stood with you, calming you down. In truth, Three Finger was the best when you were like this. One Eye would get too worked up and start to panic while Sawtooth was the complete opposite and offered you no sympathy for fear of showing weakness. But Three Finger knew to keep you close and even nuzzled against you. You felt the panic in your chest start to ease, and you were able to think straight. Looking up, you smiled gratefully, but despite his own dorky smile back, you could see he was concerned, and probably scared. Pulling back, you were also grateful that he had manged to position himself to stand directly between you and the bars. He blocked your view of the guy who was now guarding you all, so you glanced past him as saw the man had passed out on the floor. If you could only get out. Looking back to Three Finger, you could see the worry in his eyes, and both One Eye and Sawtooth watched on in concern. In a few hours, you would be burned to death, and they were more worried about you having a stupid panic attack. They had always cared for you more than themselves, even back in the old days, before you all escaped. An idea shot into your mind like lightening. the pin! Suddenly, you grabbed Three Finger and yanked him over to the basin. after they had escaped and freed you, you had found the pin on the ground and decided that it needed to stay down in their old cell, just in case the orderlies managed to get everyone back under control. So you had hidden it. Getting down on your hands and knees, you reached under the pipes, your hands just fitting as you felt the cold metal of the pin. Pulling it out, you turned back and offered the pin to Three Finger. You saw his eyes light up at the sight of it, the very tool which had offered you your freedom all those years ago. his eyes trailed up to you, and he grinned wickedly. You felt your stomach backflip as you smiled, your fears long forgotten as he taken the pin from your hands. Sawtooth and One Eye hadn’t seen the exchange, or what you had given Three Finger, so they watched as Three Finger crept to the bars of the cell. You followed but One Eye reached an arm across you. They wanted to keep you to the back to protect you. taking his hand, you watched anxiously as Three Finger reached through the bars and started to pick the lock. Every little creak made your heart skip a beat as you waited for the man to wake up. But then you heard a ping, and held your breath as Three Finger started to slowly pull the cell door open again. Sawtooth was first out, taking long purposely strides to the sleeping man. He grabbed him by the throat, pushing him against the wall as he dragged him up to eye height. The fear in the mans eyes was undeniable as he realised how badly he had fucked up. Sawtooth raised his fist and with one sharp jab, the man was knocked out. Three Finger cackled menacingly as Sawtooth picked him back and threw him over his shoulder, leading the way out. You all followed, knowing there was no point hanging around here in case they did find the plug and came back to get their friend. Up, through the corridors you went till you came to the kitchen. Three Finger quickly checked around while you made sure the spark plugs were still where one eye had left them. They were. That was lucky. You came out and saw the had laid the guy on one of the tables, about to kill him. “Wait.” You grabbed Three Fingers hand, stopping him from killing the man. “Cut his tongue out.” The boys looked at you, utterly perplexed. You were normally the more docile of the four, wanting someone to have a quick death rather than long and drawn out. “Cut out his tongue and swap your clothes with him.” You looked pointed at Three Finger as you took the knife and made quick work of the last two fingers on the mans hand. Three Finger, not wanting to upset you again, followed your instructions, swapping his clothes as One Eye cut out the mans tongue. you grabbed a bag and cut eye holes in it before pulled it over his head, tying it there just as Three Finger strapped his gloves on the man. Once he was ready, you got them to help you get the man up to the floor with the girls. Leaning him against the wall, you shook him until you felt him start to move of his own accord. Giving him a rough shove in the direction of the room the girls were held up in, you let him stagger to his feet and he quickly began to stumble away, dazed, confused and in pain. the brothers went to go after him but you held out a hand, stopping them. You watched the man turn right at the end of the hall way. You kept your arm up, and they didn’t cross you. You didn’t need to wait long. You heard the girl battle cry’s as he hobble just into sight before he was bought to the ground by the girls. They had mistaken their friend for Three Finger and now, they were screaming as they stabbed him mercilessly in the back. Poor bastard. you felt Sawtooth push against you, asking to go after them, but you refused. They needed to know what they had done. You needed to break them. Three Finger let out a shrill cackle and their attention snapped up to you. With a smirk, you dropped your arm, and the three brothers stepped forward. The girls scrambled to their feet and fled back to their safe place. You expected the boys to go after them, but Sawtooth stopped, looking back to you. You felt a wave of excitement, knowing what this meant. You were coming along. racing to his side, you beamed at him. You expected him to continue and lead his brothers as he always did, but instead he surprised you. Ducking down, he kissed you. You were taken aback. Sawtooth didn’t kiss. he let you kiss him, but it didn’t seem to mean as much as it did to the others. A kiss was a form of affection he wasn’t fond of, mainly because he could easily tear up your lips if he wasn’t carful. He learned that when you were both young and exploring each other. And yet, he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, locking him in place as you quickly returned the kiss hungrily. Strong arms lifted you up off the ground as if you were as light as a doll. You felt him wrap and arm around your lower back and the other about mid-thigh, holding you tight against his body. Sniggering brought you both out of the moment as his brothers fought to keep their laughter back. Not out of cruelty, but they enjoyed that despite the stone faced brothers approached, he was as much under your spell as they were. He was as much yours as you were his. Giggling, you jumped up slightly to press a kiss to his cheek while the other two headed down the corridor. Something caught his eye in the next room. Before you could ask, Sawtooth went inside and came out with an ice drill. Three Finger cackled, jumping up and down at the new toy. You smirked at Sawtooth, knowing full well that at least one of the girls will meet a painful end at the hands of such a weapon. You stepped aside, bowing comically as you let Sawtooth walk past you and his brothers to lead the next attack. Rounding a corner, Sawtooth heard the running footsteps and the ice drill roared to life, followed by screaming as the girls skidded to run in the opposite direction. they ran for the front door, which had been chained shut during the day. More shrieks as they realised and had to double back on themselves. Suddenly, Sawtooth stopped. He turned to you, giving a single nod towards where the girls were. You understood. Follow them. Darting in front, you ran with silent feet and sensitive hearing. They were heading upstairs, to the attic. You followed them as they ended up stumbling into the room the guys slept in. Your bedroom was in a hidden door off to the side which was locked. And you were thankful. You didn’t want them rummaging through your stuff. The girls found some of the older clothes, pulling them on to keep warm if/when they got outside. This changed the game again. Because now you couldn’t rely on them freezing to death in the current climate. You had to get them before they left the grounds. You kept to the shadows as the girls ran back out the room, through the attic and back down the stairs, towards the east wing. You didn’t follow them the whole way, instead following the drill sound to find the guys. “They went upstairs and found jackets. They’re prepared for going outside.” You ran up, tell the brothers the new information. Sawtooth huffed as you noticed they had pulled on some of their own thick jackets. The ones they had been wearing the night before, so had probably left somewhere in the kitchen area when they came back. One Eye held out your own, which you had kept by the back entrance. Grinning, you kissed his cheek before pulling it on and guided them towards the west wing. One Eye ran ahead to open a door with his shoulder, but it didn’t budge. He rattled the release handle a few times with little avail. “They’ve blocked it.” You mumble, running forward and looking through the window. You couldn’t see anything in the way of the door, so you looked through the small crack between the two door. You saw a thick object connecting the doors. “They’ve jammed something through the handle.” You call over your shoulder to the others. Suddenly, you heard running and just manage to jump out the way as Three Finger’s body collides with the door, falling to the ground. You press your lips together in a harsh line to stop yourself from laughing as you and One Eye look at each other. His amusement did nothing to help your attempts, so you had to raise your hands over your mouth before hearing grunting from Sawtooth. This wasn’t the time for jokes, even if his eyes did betray that he found it rather comical as well. One Eye tried the same body slam, but managed to catch himself without falling. Nothing seemed to budge the door. There was little point in you trying, so you stood to the side as some kind of strange cheerleader. That was, until, Sawtooth walked up to the door. He looked through the window, before walking back and passing the drill to One Eye. He gave himself much more of a run up to the door, and as his mass collided with the door, your noticed it gave a lot more that the previous attempts. And there was a cracking sound. “Its working.” You run up, pushing on the door and seeing it was now moving if only by an inch or so. You stepped back, looking to Sawtooth as he lined himself up again. A second, and third time but it was the fourth that he broke through the door. Three Finger let out a triumphant cackle as the brothers raced through the door, followed by you. Sawtooth took the drill back as they looked in each room, only to find one girl half was out through a burrow in the snow. She ended up crawling back, wiping snow off her face. She didn’t even notice Sawtooth coming up behind her. She didn’t know until the drill was protruding through her stomach as he mangled her insides. The blood sprayed out, only for you to notice one of the girls had climbed back down to try help her. She was pulled back up in a heartbeat before anything could be done. The drill was turned off and the body fell to the floor, lifeless. The brothers, their eyes fixed on the hole, knew where the girls had gone. Three Finger nudged Sawtooth, making a fist with his right hand and mimicking the revving of a motorbike. Sawtooth smirked and nodded as he left the room, you all in tow. “Ill go get the spark plug wires.” You call out, running past the others, knowing it was quicker you going to get them. You ran and grabbed the sparkplug wires before meeting the boys at the door. They now had more weapons, each holding one. Following them outside to the snowmobiles, you handed each of them a plug for each machine except one. You didn’t know how to even begin to wire one up or even drive one. They boys seemed to have a knack at this kind of stuff. “Once this is over, you have to show me how to drive one of these.” You nod to the dormant snowmobile, looking to Sawtooth, who paused for a moment before giving a single nod. Smiling widely, you watched three Finger as he worked. They wired up the machines before revving them to life. Stepping back, you were reluctant to go back inside when you heard Three Finger cackle. You looked at him and he nodded his head to the back of his. you paused, your heart skipping a beat as you prayed you understood him. Glancing to Sawtooth, he gave a single nod and revved the engine, an indicator to hurry up. Smiling, you ran over and swung your leg over the back of Three Fingers snowmobile, locking your arms around his torso. He glanced back at you, making sure you were ready before the other speed off. You cuddled into his back, grinning as the adrenaline from the ride set in. you loved how fast these things could go. They would be a great addition for the days of boredom. Sawtooth followed the girls tracks in the snow, and it didn’t take long to catch up. They circled the girls, getting them worked up. They screamed and cried out, but then Sawtooth signalled for the other to back off. Retreating back, you stood up on the back of the snowmobile to watch what would happen with the shadows in the distance. They couldn’t see you guys, but because they were in the open, you could just make out them. “Theyre splitting up.” You call out, knowing it was best to attack now. Going in for another attack, Three Finger managed to swing and injure one of the girls while Sawtooth grabbed another. You looked up, seeing the girl was struggling too much and started jabbing something into Sawtooths arm. He dropped her, but neglected to notice the incoming low branch. It knocked him right off his snowmobile. One Eye was right behind him, capturing the girl. You and Three Finger went to check on Sawtooth, who stumbled up with a grumble. He fobbed off your calls of concern, rubbing his head before trekking to get his snowmobile. You knew better than to try fuss over him like this. He would just push you away anyways. You would make sure to check him over once his ego isn’t as bruised. Hearing screaming, you look up and see One Eye had got the girl. Getting off Three fingers, you raced over to see what One Eye was doing. Three Finger sped off, in search of another victim. You saw the blood coming out the end of the bike as he looked up at you, waiting for something. “Well done. That’s really inventive.” You smile as the girls scream become weaker then stop entirely when the snowmobile dropped. One Eye beams at you before looking away shyly. Walking through the snow, you reach up and guide his face towards your own before kissing him, deeply. He melt against your kiss, whining slightly as he reached up, cupping your cheek. You were interrupted when you heard a female voice crying out. Heads snapping to the side, you saw one girl running through the snow. One Eye cut a rope on the back before scooped you up and put you on the back of his snowmobile, revving it and racing away. You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding on tightly.

 ------------time skip -------------

 You awoke, well rested and refreshed. Trudging through the hallways, you couldn’t help but feel happy and content. Three Finger appeared, grinning as he grabbed your hand and started to drag you to the front door, where you saw the truck was now out front. Along with a sulking One Eye. Frowning, you notice the bruising starting to appear on his left eye. Racing out the front door, without a jacket, you were in front of him before he knew it, cupping his cheek and looking at the injury. One Eye smiled, ducking his head a little out of embarrassment. He must have gotten hurt chasing the girls when you and Three Finger had come home last night, after you had rode for a bit with Sawtooth of course. Speaking of which, Sawtooth grunted, signalling to the truck as he climbed on the back with the crane part. One Eye stole a quick kiss before you all headed to the truck.  You took pride of place in the front beside Three Finger, which was already nice and warm. You didn’t know where you were driving to, but Three Finger apparently did as, after about 10 minutes, he pulled up beside a bank of snow. Looking out, you saw two bodies, decapitated. They hadn’t got away. Stepping out the truck, you climbed up on the rear wheel to see the brothers in the back of the truck while Three Finger retrieved the heads of the bodies. They didn’t even see the two snowballs you had in your hand until Three Finger had thrown the heads and bodies in the back and got back into the cab. You took the opportunity to hurl the snow at both One Eye and Sawtooth before diving back into the cab and locked the doors. Three Finger cackled as Sawtooth banged on the rear window. You smiled innocently at him, but you felt the sudden dread that you would soon have to get out the cab. “I don’t think I’ll be getting those lessons today.” You giggled as you glanced out the rear window. Three Finger cackled before driving away. You slipped closer to him, cuddling into his side as he drove.

[aquietwritingcorner]

Whumptober 2020 Day 27: Okay Who Had Natural Disaster On Their 2020 Bingo Card?—Earthquake/Extreme Weather/Power Outage Word Count: 1006 Author: Katie/Ally (aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl)   Rating: T Characters: Briggs. It’s a collective story, really. Summary: One time Briggs nearly froze over, and no one who survived it would ever forget. Notes:  Yes, I know, the knowledge of the tunnel, Olivier being at Briggs, Miles being at Briggs, and Buccaneer being alive can’t be things that all happen at once, especially not with the timeline within this story. I took some creative liberty. Sue me.

 Frozen Over

 They would later learn that it was an earthquake that caused the whole problem. But when it happened, they had no idea why, and it was, of course, under less then ideal circumstances. Briggs, while not the coldest place on the face of the planet, was still in a very cold climate. Winters were harsh, and winter storms were harsher. The fort itself had plenty of safeguards against the harsh winters, but unfortunately many of those relied on electricity to work. There were still other forms of energy at the fort—General Armstrong wanted to make sure that the fort could be self-sufficient if needed, at least for a while—but electricity was the cleanest and easiest way to provide for their needs.

It also, apparently, was vulnerable to earthquakes.

A loss of power in the winter wasn’t that unusual. Power lines strung in the air would freeze and snap, and powerlines laid on the ground would be pushed out of place by rockslides or avalanches. A team would be sent out to go make what repairs they could until the official crews from the power station at the Atlas Dam could come through. But this time? This time was different.

A fierce winter storm had blown up, one that was so strong that outside patrols were deemed too dangerous. The cold, even with the layers of protection the fort had, seeped through and permeated the giant wall. It was truly a storm for the history books, one that even those who had family from Drachma would later say they had never seen the like of before. Extra layers were ordered for all soldiers, and extra blankets were given out. Soldiers like Buccaneer and those with automail or prosthetics had to take extra precautions.

And then the power went out.

Normally they would, make do, send out a team to repair or scout it and all in all it would only be a few hours. But this storm had been howling for days, and it showed no signs of slowing down. They would have to dig their way out of the fort by the time this was over--assuming they survived. With the cold already permeating the outer edge of the fort, General Armstrong ordered everyone to move deeper in, to the more interior areas. They moved further in and further down, closer to the lower levels that were usually warm. Unfortunately, one of the reasons that it was usually warm was because of all of the machinery that was running. Without the electricity, most of it couldn’t run, and the heat that was normally produced was severely cut.

Emergency procedures were put into place. Personal were banned from going outside of certain areas. Only the most essential of the essential were allowed out of them. Power substitutes were already put into play in the hopes of producing more heat. The men that did exit the designated areas reported ice on the inner walls, snow seeping in around outer doors, and a bone-chilling cold like they had never felt before. Buccaneer and anyone else with automail or a prosthetic were banned from leaving the designated areas all together.

And the cold kept encroaching.

The fuel to keep the fort even partially running began to run out. There was no way to leave the fort. The storm was still howling outside. General Armstrong and her staff began to discuss other means to survive. There was still the tunnel under the fort, the one dug by the homunculus, Sloth. It was underground, which would be warmer. It was big enough that it could house all of the men. And, if need be, they could follow it around to another exit as an escape route.

They started putting men down there the next day.

Eventually, they had abandoned the fort all together, save one—General Armstrong. She refused to abandon the fort, on the chance that either Drachma came for it, or someone came to investigate. She sent Buccaneer and Miles down with the men, and then it was just her and her slowly freezing fort. Two more days passed before the storm finally slowed and stopped. It took one more day before the Briggs men were able to dig enough of an escape tunnel to see that the storm had stopped. Any that went outside were in shock to see that their fort was almost completely buried in snow drifts.

Two teams were immediately dispatched. One was dispatched to the outside, to start digging out the fort from that side. The other side made their way back into the fort itself, to try to set things to rights in there—and to find their general. General Armstrong was found inside, her instincts once again correct. There were a half-dozen dead Drachman soldiers around her, although she, herself, was alive, but half frozen and injured. Without the power restored, she was taken to Doc’s temporary set up in the tunnel to be treated for hypothermia and to have her sword gently thawed from her hand.

It took them two weeks to dig the fort out of all of the snow. It was another week before power was restored. It was at least one more week before the fort was completely thawed out and they were able to move back in. The area had been hit hard by the storm, although of all of the installations, Briggs had managed to survive the best. The General had been on bedrest for a week and barred by Doc from going outside until she was convinced that the other woman was completely healed up. A Briggs team went with a team from Northern Command to find the power break and found signs of an earthquake having broken the power lines.

Eventually, things got back to normal. The power was restored, the heat was turned back on, and General Armstrong was up and about. But no one at Briggs ever forgot about that winter, and how close they had come to freezing to death.

[mercury-filled-intp]

i made a wlw version of The Selection

For all of you touch starved gays out there, I came prepared!! If you are in teh market for:

a) wlw romances 

b) wlw romances 

c) wlw slightly cottagecore romances involving princesses and mild references to the l word

boy do i have the story for you. I’ve put it under the break so you can read here if you want. but it’s also on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904733

so knock yourself out. this is what an intp does with too much spare time. i’m literally rewriting the whole book. so. yeah

Jen Carpenter was building an overly elaborate birdhouse in her basement woodshop when the telephone rang. Its high-pitched wobble echoed across the scuffed linoleum and wooden paneled staircase until her mother answered the line.

           “Carpenter and Son, how may I help you?” She said. Jen sang a showtune while she worked, cutting a hole into a thin plank of wood. She was in the middle of making a bright pink birdhouse for a Two’s spoiled daughter. Jen was instructed to bedazzle the front, but she figured she would take some creative liberty and make it look a little less disgusting, even though as a Five, she should have been answering to them. She was in the middle of nailing the cut and sanded pieces together when her mother came, practically rolling, down the stairs. “Jen, that was the royal court who just called…” Sandra said in an annoying voice. “They mentioned we have a daughter between the ages of seventeen and twenty in our household… you know what that means—” Jen cut her off quickly, knowing where the conversation was going.

           “I’m not going to audition for The Selection, Mom. Get over it. I’m perfectly happy with my work here!” Jen loved her woodshop, but there were other reasons why she didn’t want to test her luck with the Princess. One of them being her true love waiting for her every night in the treehouse in the woods, where she met up with Vivienne most nights. Vivienne was another Five, born to a family of well-respected maids. Their families were close enough that they knew each other growing up, and fell in love almost instantly. Since they were both thirteen, they’ve been sneaking up to the treehouse (built with care by Jen one year) to exchange snacks and gifts and hopes for the future when they will finally leave their parents for something new. They had to keep their relationship a secret, or else their parents would forbid them from seeing each other. They fantasized about going to New Asia, where Vivienne could finally meet her colonial ancestors—but they wouldn’t be able to follow through with their future plans if Jen was married away to Princess Shane! Vivienne wasn’t able to audition—her parents didn’t have enough money to pay the audition fee—but Sandra was determined to get her daughter into the competition. Jen was a beautiful singer, but wasn’t quite ready to share her talent with the world.

           “You know how much the money would help us, Jen. I can open the bakery I’ve always wanted, your father could expand the business with Joe, it could all be so amazing. Just audition for me. Please? You’re so talented…” Sandra cooed, already living vicariously through Jen even though she hadn’t even been Selected yet.

           She would decide what to do about it all later. Princess Shane was gorgeous. She wouldn’t hate being with her… realistically, every citizen under the age of thirty probably had a crush on the princess. But, she had already met her true love, and was not ready to give that up. And, either way, she wouldn’t even be selected anyway. Being able to carry a tune didn’t make her the most attractive in all of District 4. Jen sighed and resumed construction on the birdhouse, lost in a daydream thinking about tomorrow’s possibilities. Before she could get into the groove of her work, though, her sister Chloe came bounding down the staircase with stomps belonging to an ogre. Bright orange pigtails (violently contrasting the basic dark-brown hair of the rest of her family…) trailed behind her as she very nearly fell onto the basement floor.

           “Please audition, Jen! You and Shane would look so pretty together!” She practically screamed, looking at Sandra for approval. Jen couldn’t believe her mother had brought Chloe into this. Every ten-year-old in the People’s Republic was obsessed with Princess Shane, that was not fair. There were probably more Princess Shane figurines in circulation than dollar bills. Jen conceded, though, because she’d do anything to make her sister happy. Even if she happened to be the devil incarnate with that red hair.

           “Alright, I’ll think about it. Now move,” she guided them towards the staircase with her callused hands on their backs, “I won’t be able to finish this by Sunday with you hovering,” Jen said. Her mother and sister turned up the stairs, giddily discussing what dress to have Jen wear to the auditions. The People’s Republic had strict laws on what is wearable in public, so she didn’t have many options either way. Too much glitter is seen as a public nuisance, and short skirts are seen as too tempting for the guards that patrol the streets every day. If only they were still America, Jen thought to herself, recalling history lessons from her mother as a child. Two centuries before, after the Great Eurasian War, The United States was absorbed by China and turned into the People’s Republic. But, because there was a literal ocean between the two land masses, the United States had an easy time overthrowing Chairman Mao V6, Eurasian Emperor. Now, nearly 170 years later, Jen can now call herself a People’s Republican. All thanks to Marsia Washington, the woman who led the revolution against Eurasia. At least, that’s what she learned in history classes at school. Her dad didn’t seem to like the curriculum, but Jen assumed that was because he was taught differently fifty years before. Once Chloe and Sandra’s gossip faded away into distant squealing overhead, Jen was finally able to start lacquering the birdhouse, omitting those godawful rhinestones.

#

           By nightfall, dinner was already on the table. Not much construction work was requested in the winter, so the meal was meager: stale turkey leftover from Thanksgiving with rice, and toaster strudels for dessert. Jen’s stomach groaned at the table, as forks and knifes clashed together. Through a full mouth, her little brother Max talked about his day at the junkyard with their father. Chloe and Jen’s mother discussed the latest plans for the business, and Jen stared out the window into the city lights visible just across the pier. She lost herself in the dazzling billboards and buildings, before the television set knocked her back into reality.

           “Selection auditions are tomorrow! How exciting! Hello, girls!” The news was on, and the most obnoxious reporter was covering the night’s program from District 2. She dragged some unsuspecting teenagers from the streets into the limelight by the forearms, “Are any of you planning on trying your luck at Princess Shane’s hand?” Most girls out of the group said they would, gushing about how exciting it was to get a chance to be with the Princess. Sandra glanced towards Jen expectantly, gently nudging her with a pointy elbow. Promptly ignoring her mother, Jen turned back to face the table.

           “We found a lovely dress for you. It’s pink tulle, and Vivienne’s mother said she’ll tailor it so it’s not dragging behind you. It was my dress back in the day,” Sandra said, staring wistfully into nothing, reliving her glory days. Jen nodded along passively, eyes focused on finishing the last few bites of toaster strudel on her plate.

           “Don’t do too much, Mom. I don’t even know if I’ll get picked! Let alone if I’ll even audition…” Sandra and Chole both whined at the same time, Max chatting with their father, ignoring the Selection talk. Jen thought of Vivienne, seeing her mother work on the dress she would wear for Princess Shane. She couldn’t do that to Vivienne. “You know, I’m feeling really full,” Jen said, slyly brushing some turkey and rice from her plate into a bowl under the table. “May I excuse myself?”

           “Alright, but get to sleep early. You want to be fresh-faced for your audition!” Jen nodded quickly, and headed to her room. Her family had lived here her whole life, so nothing changed except a new bed and desk over the years. There was a dirty mirror in the corner, a permanently unmade bed by the window, and a tragically stained once-white carpet covering the floor. Shutting the door, she uncovered the food she was able to sneak away from the table. It was not a full meal, but would be enough to keep Vivienne going for a while. She shoved the leftovers in a bag and then that bag into a backpack, slinging the familiar, worn fabric over her toned shoulders. Vivienne was always looking out for her siblings, even if it meant skipping meals so they could eat. Bringing her extras was the least Jen could do, considering all the kind things Vivienne has done for her.

           She turned to the mirror, trying in vain to look semi-presentable. Her shoulder-length curly hair was limp and dry, and her face looked dull and sunken. She was wearing a dark grey tunic and maxi skirt—optimal for mobilization and constant airflow but reminiscent of a potato sack. After doing her best to smooth out the wrinkles with her hands, she hiked up her skirt and bounded out the window.

[optimusphillip]

OptimusPhillip Reviews 19: Transformers Generations Hound (WFC: Siege)

So, in the time that has past since my last Siege review, the first wave of Earthrise toys has already hit store shelves... but I’m really falling behind on my toy collecting, so I haven’t gotten my hands on those just yet. But I do still have new toys to cover, most of them acquired over winter break, so let’s take a look at the last (unique) Siege toy I haven’t reviewed, and talk about Hound: the breakout success of the first wave of the Siege subline.

Vehicle Mode

Hound’s vehicle mode is, of course, a Cybertronian military light utility vehicle, and it is really nice looking. I actually think that it’s one of the best original vehicle modes I’ve seen in the series. It doesn’t feel like they took a Jeep and added a bunch of extra parts on it, or just cobbled together whatever vehicular shape they could futz the robot into. This actually looks how a military light utility vehicle would look if it were being made on Cybertron.

He’s cast primarily in his classic olive drab color, with black for the roll-cage and bed, wheels, bumper and side pieces. There’s also a bit of gray plastic for the interior, which kind of looks like a set of seats thanks to the visible transformation tabs, and a small piece of clear plastic for the windscreen... which is mounted directly in front of an opaque black plate. I question the usefulness of that. Also, he does have a bit of under-kibble: the arms visibly hang down below the sides, and the head and thighs are plainly visible if you look from the bottom. I’d be able to accept those, but the arms are a bit of a problem. Not a deal breaker, though.

In terms of paint, he has some bronze striping on his hood and down the sides, much like his G1 toy, as well as green paint on his hubcaps. He also gets fully painted lights, which is a bit of a shock. Headlights and driving lamps done in white, fog lights and directionals done in yellow, and even the taillights are done in red, with rear directionals as well. And of course, he gets his classic five-pointed star and silver-bordered Autobot symbol on the hood. And of course, he has the Siege battle damage, visible on the bumper in this mode. I think this is a really good use of battle damage, but I can still see people being unhappy with this. At least it’s only covering up colored plastic, so a dexterous collector could strip away the paint without damaging the other details.

As far as features are concerned, he of course has free spinning wheels, so he can roll around. Also, as part of the War for Cybertron Trilogy, he has a number of 5mm pegholes, eight in total in this mode, as well as a single blast effect hardpoint on his bumper. But the most interesting feature to me is that there’s a slit in his bumper piece, right under the molded hinge piece, where you can apparently thread a real string to create a somewhat functional winch. It’s the most random feature to just throw in without any fanfare, but it’s actually pretty cool.

Onto accessories, the figure includes three in total. His classic shoulder cannon, and what looks like some kind of machine gun with a detachable ammo clip. All three of these can store in his vehicle mode. Both guns can, of course, fit into any of his 5mm ports, while the ammo clip fits into a dedicated spot on the rear. Officially, the shoulder cannon goes in the middle of the rear section, with the machine gun mounted beside it, but I like mounting it on one of the two ports on either side of the very back. It just looks nicer there in my opinion. But hey, that’s the beauty of the C.O.M.B.A.T. system: it’s totally modular, so you can do whatever you think looks good.

Conversion

While the visible robot parts on the bottom might give the impression of a simple transformation, Hound still packs a few surprises in. To start with, the entire side of the vehicle detaches and then folds up to form the leg, though the roll-cage and bed assembly kind of gets in the way. After that it gets more simplistic: fold the arms out and bring down the front end of the vehicle. However, the roll-cage and bed then collapse together and fold down into the backpack, which is actually kind of neat. There’s even a hinge on the hood panel behind the head, so it doesn’t get in the way of posing. It’s a really fun transformation, which is refreshing after the rather bland transformations of the previous Deluxes I’ve covered.

Robot Mode

Hound’s original robot mode is a hard one to replicate without looking strange, so most of his toys need to take creative liberties with the aesthetic. This is true of the Siege toy. Instead of the old-school fender shoulders, Siege Hound has the standard block shoulders mounted at the top of the torso. Also, his feet are scaled down considerably, with the extra mass going into the lower legs due to the way all the wheels fold up into them. Still, the robot looks really nice, and honestly I think it would only look worse if it tried harder to match the cartoon.

Most of the paint detail from the vehicle mode carries over into this mode, with the only new detail being on the arms. His shoulders get silver outlines of his classic star symbol, and he also gets some more bronze stripes around his forearms. Aside from that, all we get is some battle damage on his shins, which again, may turn some people off, but I think it’s passable.

You know the drill now: articulation. Ball jointed neck, but his head shape limits the angular motion; universal shoulders and hips; bicep and thigh swivels; 90 degree elbows and knees; wrist swivel and ankle tilts; and a waist swivel. He’s about on par with the other Siege Deluxes, and I’m so happy I can say that about this level of posability.

In terms of extra functions, there are now five blast effect points, and a total of thirteen C.O.M.B.A.T. ports, so you can load him out with either Weaponizer parts or just whatever accessories you think would work with him. Of course, he can hold both his machine gun or his missile launcher in either hand, or attach them to any of the ports on his body, but of course the proper place for the missile launcher is on his shoulder. It can go on either side, but canonically it belongs on the right side. There is no missile piece, but there are various options for it on the aftermarket. And of course, the weapons can all combine together to form an extra-long rifle, which I find actually works better than most of these Siege combined weapons. He can even hold it in both hands, though it does take some futzing and only works in one pose: pointing to his side and slightly upwards. Still, it works surprisingly well, though I do still prefer the base configuration.

Final Thoughts

Siege Hound was an absolute hit with fans, and for good reason. Compared to the other Deluxes in the line, his vehicle mode is cohesive and unique, while still maintaining the original identity. His transformation is fun and engaging, his paint job is outstanding, and he still has at least as much articulation as any other figure in the assortment. I honestly wish I’d gotten a hold of him sooner, but I’m so happy to have him. He’s definitely a must-have for the Siege line... at least until he inevitably gets an Earthrise remold which keeps everything I loved about the toy but reshells it into an actual Jeep, making me debate about whether I should buy the same toy over again and... I need to reboot.

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Week 6 Roundup!

Don’t forget that our late card requests are still open until the 22nd!

Title: take you down Collaborator: ABitNotGoodieBag Link: AO3 Square Filled: Kiss Me Ship: BuckySam Rating: Explicit Major Tags: BDSM, explicit sexual content Summary: Bucky is a distracting menace and Sam’s gonna let him know what’s what. Word Count: 4222

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Title: Petals - Chapter 7 Collaborator: DocOlive Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - Intimacy without sex Ship: Stucky, IronStrange Rating: Teen Major Tags: Hanahaki disease, emotional constipation, sickfic Summary: “So what you both have, it seems, is a terminal case of idiocy.” Strange swept into the open living area, like he was continuing a conversation Bucky forget they were having. Which, okay, was reasonable, given the massive levels of shit he was feeling at the moment. He glanced over to where Steve was perched at the far end of the couch, pale and sweaty, looking even more delicate than usual. Bucky imagined he looked about as miserable, himself, what with the recent tendency to work up hairballs made of goddamn flowers.  --  Bucky and Steve admit their feelings and feel better. Stephen Strange is an ass. Word Count: 7203

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Title: Save Another Life (It Will Be Worth It) - Chapter 2: Helpless Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: U4 – restrained Ship: Bucky & Tony & Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: child abuse, Dad Bucky & Kid Tony & Kid Bruce, heavy angst and lots of fluff Summary: James' suspicions about Bruce's home life are confirmed in the worst way. Word Count: 6505

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Title: Escape Plan: 12 Percent of a Plan - Chapter 1: 12% of a Plan Collaborator: tisfan Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K4 - Meet Ugly Ship: WinterIronQuill Rating: Teen Major Tags: Prison fic, lack of planning, assholes, but not 100% dicks   Summary: They say the first day in prison, you have to win a fight, or become someone’s bitch. Tony’s got no idea which thing just happened. Word Count: 1480

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Title: Siren -  Chapter 2: Concentrating my moves, I'm on a mission Collaborator: writing-mermaid Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - Free square Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Mature Major Tags: Fight, mention of injuries and blood Summary: Y/N is a mutant, a Siren, the last of her kind, with deadly dangerous powers and a hidden past. If most of the Avengers likes and get along with her, Steve doesn’t, and it’s getting worse when Y/N and Bucky become close. After all what can bring two broken souls together if it’s not a dark past. Word Count: 1643

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Title: Artificial Indignities Collaborator: EachPeachPearPlum Link: AO3 Square Filled: C2 - Walking Disaster Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Mature Major Tags: humour, flatulence, attempted cock-blocking Summary: In which Clint makes the mistake of comparing JARVIS and Alexa, and suffers the consequences. Word Count: 1672

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Title: Broken Angels - Chapter 23: For Want of a Cat Collaborator: pherryt Link: AO3 Square Filled: - Cat Ship: Bucky/Clint/Steve/Natasha Rating: Explicit Major Tags: For this chapter, none, for the overall fic: Dark elements, brainwashing, low self worth, violence, canon divergent AU Summary: Winter bonds with Peter and Tony freaks out. Just a little. Word Count: 55,443

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Title: Save Another Life (It Will Be Worth It) - Chapter 3: From Bad To Worse Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: C5 – the clock is ticking Ship: Bucky & Tony & Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: child abuse, Dad Bucky & Kid Tony & Kid Bruce, heavy angst, character death Summary: The bruises on Bruce's face heal. His home life doesn't. James is driven to make a drastic and necessary decision. Word Count: 9421

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Title: where we existed, we invested all our time (just to witness the bitter side of life) Collaborator: asphxdels Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Regrets Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Angst, Break Up Summary: “It was selfish and it won’t ever happen again.”  “I know it won’t.” Word Count: 1223

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Title: The Nearness of You [Part One] Collaborator: arrowsandmixtapes Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B5 - Soul Bond Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Teen Major Tags: Canon divergence and other creative liberties Summary: While stationed overseas, Bucky Barnes meets a woman his very soul recognizes. Word Count: 3664

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Title: See You Collaborator: sarahbenial Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y1 - Through a Scope Ship: BuckyNat Rating: Mature Major Tags: Non-graphic violence, brief non-graphic sex, smoking   Summary: Bucky’s about to pull the trigger on a target when he’s interrupted by a familiar figure. Word Count: 1975

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Title: Only a Phone Call Away (part 2) Collaborator: riotwritesthings Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C4 - I Regret Nothing Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: teasing, phone sex, marathon sex, orgasm denial Summary: Tony is across the country for work, and then Bucky is across the world for a mission, but they always find a way to keep in touch. Even when Bucky would rather be without the distraction. (Now with chapter 2, featuring Bucky getting his Revenge) Word Count: 4799

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Title: Save Another Life (It Will Be Worth It) - Chapter 4: Turning Point Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: C4 – anger issues Ship: Bucky & Tony & Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: child abuse, recovery (physical and emotional), dad Bucky and kids Tony and Bruce, nightmares Summary: On the run again, James takes care of his boys while Bruce begins his recovery, constantly supported by Tony. Word Count: 12,831

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Title: N/A Collaborator: Trashcanakin [Zain] Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B1 - Baking Ship: Bucky & Kate Bishop Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: [Fanart] Bucky and Kate baking a cake!

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Title: Pressure Rising Collaborator: darter_blue Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content, light D/s, under-negotiated kink Summary: Waking up in a farmhouse, on an apple orchard, in the arms of a man who could bench press a minivan, with eyelashes like a disney princess and shoulders like a greek god is Bucky's fantasy turned reality. Except this is sort of a kidnapping. And his life might be falling apart in the real world. And Bucky might not give a shit, because Steve Rogers is like a drug, and Bucky just can't get enough. Also, it turns out, maybe Bucky is a drug for Steve too... Word Count: 7297

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Title: Save Another Life (It Will Be Worth It) - Chapter 5: Hugs Help Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y3 – abandonment issues Ship: Bucky & Tony & Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: past child abuse, recovery, hurt/comfort, all the hugs Summary: James eases some of Bruce's fears, the boys all catch a cold, and hugs help. Word Count: 15,462

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Title: B.B. Bear - Bucky’s Happiness Collaborator: shakespeareanqueer  Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y5 - Happy Ship: Steve/Becca Barnes Rating: Teen, Mature later Major Tags: Mentions of Bucky’s past/brainwashing Summary: Steve visits Bucky in Wakanda and he is extremely happy. Why? Because someone very special is also there. Word Count: 3103

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Title: How do you poison a weapon? Collaborator: flintrage Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - Poison Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: None other than the standard fare you'd expect from the Asset and the STRIKE team; being spoken to as if he isn't a person, etc. Pretty low-key though, this isn't an angsty fic really. Summary: Something is seriously wrong with the Asset. The STRIKE team low-key panics while they try to figure out what they should do about it. Word Count: 704

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Title: Into the Unknown (2/5) Collaborator: diner_drama Link: AO3 Square Filled: B4 - Royalty AU Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: Frozen AU Summary: Bucky's ceremonial waistcoat was itchy, and the crown was making the top of his head uncomfortably sweaty. The assembled dignitaries and ministers were watching him expectantly from around the conference table, waiting for him to open the meeting. He cleared his throat. "Good morning everyone," he started, as he had every week for his interminable tenure as ruler, trying to smile warmly and only somewhat succeeding. "Let's begin this week's business. How are my subjects?" Allowing himself to drift a little, he gazed out of the huge ornamental window, out across the great expanse of the sea, the azure waters lapping against the shore, the dark cerulean of the depths out towards the horizon. At the very edge of his hearing, a nearly imperceptible voice was audible, jolting him into awareness. Abruptly, he dropped his scepter. Word Count: 1310

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Title: Save Another Life (It Will Be Worth It) - Chapter 7: Wouldn't Change A Thing Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 – gray hair Ship: Bucky & Tony & Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: fluff and good feels, sass and silliness Summary: The boys grow up, go to school, and turn into the men they were meant to be, with James right there with them. Word Count: 20,336

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Title: No Use Crying Over Spilt Milkshakes Collaborator: pherryt Link: AO3 Square Filled: U3- Soulmates Ship: Bucky/Clint/Steve Rating: Gen Major Tags: angst, soulmates, depression Summary: Clint's feeling abandoned and rudderless with the fall of SHIELD, the lack of Avenger calls, and the disappearances of both Steve and Nat, though he gets why they're both off doing their own things. His best friend could never sit idle and Steve, well, he's got bigger problems than Clint to deal with right now (*cough*Winter Soldier*cough*). It's okay. He'll deal. Somehow. Maybe. Word Count: 5553

[militant-holy-knight]

Benioff and Weiss Were Always Hacks: You Only Noticed Now

Or why you should be worried for the future Star Wars movies made by them

(Disclaimer: this blogpost contains spoilers for Game of Thrones)

With only two episodes left for the series to reach it’s conclusion and the announcement for future Star Wars movies in the horizon made by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss (henceforth referred to as D&D for simplicity sake), not many fans seem to be excited about it as they should due to the creative choices taken in regards to the final season of Game of Thrones. Speaking as a GoT fan, I used to enjoy the show a lot and I believe it reached it’s peak on Season 4 and started to go went downhill on Season 5. If D&D were in charge from the beginning what happened?

D&D’s job was always to adapt the book series by George R. R. Martin, which means any merit to the show’s writing can be attributed largely to Martin while D&D were only fit for it to make it work into a tv show - which is still laudable in it’s own right because there are things in the books that still wouldn’t translate too well into the show. In any case, they did their job well from Season 1 to Season 4 which adapted the first trilogy in the series. Even though there are still five books in total released at the time, Season 5 is where they started to run out of material to adapt because some storylines didn’t find their proper conclusion and they needed to come up with their own unique deviations.

Season 5 is considered by many fans to be the low point in the series because of it’s extremely low pacing and controversial liberties taken: the biggest ones have to be the Dorne subplot because that meant axing popular book character Arianne Martell, Stannis Baratheon turning irredeemable evil and paying with his life and Sansa’s marriage to Ramsay Snow leading to her rape, which is still a very hot button among the fandom to this day (and understandably so). Season 5 did have some moments like Hardhome which showed the strength of the true villain of the series, the Night King, the leader of the White Walker invasion who brings winter with him. He is the Thanos-like menace who is teased since the very start of the show with the very first scene opening with a White Walker killing some Night Watch’s rangers and warning us about the danger he represents.

Season 6 fixed some of these problems by giving a more dynamic pacing and build it up with the Battle of the Bastards as the climatic encounter instead of something completely anti-climatic like Season 5′s finale where Stannis Baratheon’s forces were liquidated by the Boltons offscreen. But still, it was an entire season wasted to fix another one’s problems and it still had some individual problems. 

And then Season 7 came along and it all went to waste. I wouldn’t say it was as bad as Season 5 because at least shit happened and it wasn’t boring, but it was still full of groan-worthy moments like trying to force some romance between Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen which doesn’t work because they have no chemistry and they are related by blood, curing Jorah Mormont who has been infected with a dangerous disease that will turn him into a snow zombie by simply cutting out the infected area, and of course lest we forget the Wight Hunt in Episode 6 “Beyond the Wall” which broke all suspension of disbelief. Lemme sum it up for you what happens in that episode so you can get the idea and let me put up a map so you can get it from reference.

The heroes come up with the idea to capture an Wight and bring it South to convince Cersei to from a truce.

The travel by boat to the Wall from their base on Dragonstone.

After reaching the Wall, they walk into the land beyond it to find a wight.

They find one and send one of their members back to ask reinforcements having to sprint a indeterminate distance.

The team gets surrounded by the Night King’s army in a frozen lake for a indeterminate amount of time.

The allies at the Wall send a raven back to Dragonstone requesting help.

Daenerys summons her dragons to fly to the land beyond the Wall to rescue the heroes.

They are fighting to the last against the advancing horde of the Night King just before Daenerys arrives in a triumphant moment to save them.

And all of this happens like... Within a hour apparently. Several days should have taken place between this exchange but time moves at the speed of the plot, but D&D seem to be relying on emotional torque to get viewers to ignore all internal logic and be mindblown by the crowning moments of awesome. And this is the core issue with their writing.

D&D write their scenes the same way they film sex scenes apparently, hoping that the emotional moments will make the audience be carried over. Thing is... I realized this after thinking up about many moments in the past. Hardhome was one such example in Season 5 to make up for its abhorrent dullness and even Season 6 wasn’t safe from this. For example, remember how Rickon Stark died just so he could provoke Jon Snow to act irrationally and spur him into conflict? Why didn’t Rickon run in zig-zag when Ramsay began firing arrows at him? Why did he run into a straight line? Did these writers not watch Prometheus to learn their lessons from it’s mistakes? This problem was carried over in Season 8 and amplified a lot in the Long Night. Many people pointed out the several military blunders made by the protagonists when fighting against the Night King’s army.

I could talk about the moronic choice to film everything in absolute darkness and make it impossible to see shit.

I could talk about how idiotic it was to waste your cavalry against the enemy bulwark.

I could talk about how they didn’t create trenches with tar or use fire for more effective manner against the undead.

But I’d rather talk about that moment.

Arya killing the Night King.

You know at first I was okay with that because:

I wasn’t being a fan of Jon Snow in a long time.

Arya wasn’t a Mary Sue, had skills that justified her, so I could buy it better.

But the more I thought about it, more I came to the realization that it was a wrong choice all along.

Arya never had any investment in killing the Night King. She was a character defined by a list of people she wanted to kill including the Freys, Cersei, Joffrey and others.

Arya was trained as an assassin yes... But her training in Season 5 and 6 was very lackluster. She spent some time doing menial works, impersonating some people and trying to spill some poison on someone’s drink. She never learned invisibility, teleportation or any other cool shit.

And most importantly... Melisandre predicting that Arya would shut down “blue eyes” way back when they met in Season 3. If she sensed she was always destined to kill the Night King why did she ever support Stannis? Why did she even support Jon Snow? She even referred to him as the Prince that was Promised. Some fans can try to spin this as much as they want, but it breaks the plot retroactively very hard.

The actress herself didn’t think she deserved it

Of course all of these things were ignored by a large part of the fanbase, more specifically the “woke” crowd because YAS QUEEN SLAY. Little did they know that the very next episode would force them to eat a real shit sandwich when “The Last of the Starks” seemed to turn the narrative against Daenerys Targaryen by turning her into the Mad Queen, killing her handmaiden Missandei and setting up Jon to be the next King of Westeros. Not helping matters is that a series of leaks not yet confirmed as of the time of writing were released prior to the episode (but I personally feel they were legitimate due to some specific things but that is not the point) which sent many Daenerys fans into panic mode.

Speaking as someone who really doesn’t like Daenerys Targaryen, I can actually sympathize with them at some level because this shift appears to be very sudden specially now that the authors favored her more until this very moment. Some viewers can argue that there were always signs like her burning the Tarlys for refusing to bend the knee, which I personally took issue with before but it never really came across as the sign of an insane ruler since she offered very valid rebuttals. It all seemed like the plot was tailored to take her side no matter what and I considered Dany a Mary Sue. But just because they seem to be turning her into a villain now, it doesn’t make me hate the story any less.

Now... I spent an inordinate amount of time bitching about Game of Thrones and if you are an Star Wars fan that doesn’t know anything about it, you might be lost to anything I am writing. Well I needed to give an proper context to both GoT and SW fans since those seem to overlap now and give you a warning because Star Wars seems to be more lost now than ever. D&D were never particularly good writers, they were incoherent about continuity, care more about spectacle over substance and seem to share a thing about subverting the audience’s expectations like a certain Ruin Johnson who succeeded in completely ruining a franchise like there was no tomorrow. The key difference between D&D and Ruin is that the duo doesn’t share the same flippant attitude or picking up fights with fans on Twitter - on the contrary, D&D understand the power of fanservice even if it means daggling the metaphorical shining keys in front of the audience. 

As we come close to Game of Thrones conclusion, I have a feeling that nobody will truly come out satisfied with it should the story take the direction that we are really dreading. I’ve seen interviews about how Emilia Clarke sounds really sad and deflated, seemed like she was really disappointed with how the show ended. Whatever happens, the blame can be laid on the feet of Benioff and Weiss for their frankly baffling creative decisions. This season has been disappointing through and through with two or three episodes being needlessly long and filler to booth and to make matters worse, it was supposed to end earlier than 10 episodes. Why did they need to rush it and yet fill the series with so much dead air?

Now can you imagine a Star Wars movie made by them? With all these things I listed? The next trilogy is already dated, we don't know if it's D&D or Ruin Johnson yet. We are talking about a couple of writers that have no sense of realistic scale, continuity or logic, but rely on cheap emotional tricks to have the audience invested until they begin thinking about it. I would laugh until I was sick if this season turns everyone against those two fuckwads that Disney changes their mind about putting them in charge. If the world was a just place, this is what would happen at least.

[primorcoin]

New Post has been published on https://primorcoin.com/heres-how-crypto-traders-are-converting-worthless-nfts-into-tax-breaks/

Here's How Crypto Traders are Converting Worthless NFTs into Tax Breaks

Crypto traders are converting worthless NFTs into tax breaks. They’re using a service started just for that purpose. Others are taking advantage of IRS tax loopholes for tax breaks on their losses from BTC, ETH, and others this year.

That’s how bad the crypto winter is getting as the frost sets into planet earth’s northern hemisphere. But in a sign of persistence and entrepreneurial spirit, crypto markets are reacting. NFT buyers are now helping people with their underwater smart contracts. They’re helping sellers unload their junk NFT and get an official receipt for their tax breaks.

Investors Are Taking Losses on NFTs for the Tax Breaks

It’s not unlike what happened after the 2008 financial crisis. Back then, billions of dollars in mortgage-backed, fixed-income securities (MBS) had become toxic. They were offloaded for the big tax breaks. The banks and financial institutions that got tangled up in those then-innovative derivatives markets bailed out.

Yet it is also totally unlike what happened after the 2008 crisis. Because it was the government and central bank that bought most of those toxic assets. It was like a big institutional bailout for the banks that took losses in the housing and lending bubble of that decade.

Cryptocurrency Creativity Keeps the Wheels Turning

Instead, with loss-laden NFTs, the free market and entrepreneurship are prevailing again. NFT buyers have emerged to solve a problem created by the free market and entrepreneurship. It comports with the ethos of the cryptocurrency sector and the liberty of the free and open Web3 Internet. Plus, there are tax breaks, so it’s federally friendly too.

The Guardian reported Thursday:

Now – alongside the broader crypto market – the appetite for NFTs is so diminished that a specialized market has sprung up for collectors looking to sell off their once-valuable “digital collectibles” as tax losses to offset their income tax bills.”

Offloading their unsellable NFTs isn’t the only way crypto investors are hauling tax breaks off of this crypto winter’s brutal losses. They’re also selling their unrealized losses and rebuying to realize a loss for tax purposes while holding their long positions for a future rally.

How Crypto Traders Are Getting Other Tax Breaks

The tax loophole is that cryptocurrencies are considered property, not a security, so the 30-day stock wash rules do not apply to them. That means if you hold a position at a loss, you can sell your position and repurchase to hold the losses against any gains to decrease your tax obligations from crypto investments.

Microstrategy took advantage of tax breaks from this loophole in Q4 2022, according to a recent filing. The Michael Saylor-led company accumulated $42.8 million more BTC from the beginning of Nov through near the end of Dec. But also sold some $12 million during that period for tax purposes.

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[reemarani]

CUSHION DECOR IDEAS FOR A SOPHISTICATED MAKEOVER OF HOME INTERIORS

What’s an extravagant sofa without a stylish cushion arrangement? Not just comfort essentials for your living spaces, Cushions can be so much more! Cushions can brighten up your space, reflect your personal style, and transform the whole vibe of your interiors. A refreshing way of adding details to your home furnishings and decor, you shouldn’t be underestimating the power of these cute little cotton filled pillows. The luxury cushion covers can be a breath of fresh air in your homes. The key to ace the cushion-game is to know how to use them and blend them with the interiors to get those magazine and Instagram worthy interiors.  We have compiled for you 8 tips for cushion decor ideas to make your home interiors a statement of elegance and grace.

1. Coordinate cushions with the existing interiors

When the cushion colours and patterns are in sync with the existing interiors, it makes the décor look well-thought-of and classy. You can choose cushions with colour tones,  textures, and prints that compliment your furniture and interiors. You can easily get the cushion covers online which can enrich your living space.

2. Let your cushions be a reflection of the seasons

Cushions are the perfect home accessories for transforming the ambience to match the feel of the ongoing season. Natural fabrics, vibrant colours, and eye-soothing floral designs are the go-to choices for summer décor, while rich fabrics like velvet, silks, brocades, etc., in darker shades, will radiate the warmth and coziness of the winters.   

3. Decorating with cushions? The numbers also matter!

How many cushions are too many cushions? Well, the basic rule suggests accomodating an odd number of cushions for your sofas. For example,  a 2-seater sofa should have 3 large cushions, a 3 or 4 seater sofa can have 5 cushions.  Another way to add some quirk is to pair the large cushions with the smaller ones as they not only take up less space but also elevate the aesthetics of your sofa.  However, any number of cushions can be used to quirk up your space depending on your taste and preference, one does not have to follow any rules specifically. Design is after all what pleases the eye and soothes the heart. 

4. Play with the cushion sizes and shapes

The size of the sofa or bed in question determines the number of cushions required as well as the size of the cushions. Usually, for a 3-person sofa 50*50cm cushions are used.  You can also experiment with the shapes of the cushions. One can either opt for conventional square-shaped or can go with rectangular, oval, and round. You can always mix and match the shapes and sizes and see what works for you the best.

5. Mix and match with the prints

Versatile choices in cushion prints can enhance the décor instantly. While one set of prints can be subtle with fine detailing, the other can be bold and eccentric in such a way that they complement one another. Moreover, it's an effortless way to reorient the vibe of your space.

6. Adding cushions to your rooms

A coordinated set of bedsheets and cushion covers is an excellent option to break the monotony of your bedroom. For the master bedroom, we would highly recommend you to go for classics like breezy hand-block prints and summer-friendly floral prints. On the other hand, your kid’s room gives you the license to be extra creative. The funkier, the better! So, take the liberty to materialize your offbeat ideas and let your creative juices flow.Make Your living area beautiful with embroidered cushions covers.

7. Make contrast with embroidered cushions covers

Amongst other cushion cover decoration ideas, contrast is our personal favourite.Make Your living area beautiful with embroidered cushions covers. Contrast is always a good idea to spice things up. If your home décor or sofa set is neutral and soft-toned, you can opt for bright-coloured, contrast block with horizontal and vertical lines to make it more interesting.

8. Give your existing cushions a makeover  with velvet cushion covers online

If you love creating art, cushions can be your canvas. You can just revamp your old cushions and give them an interesting twist. Adding crochet laces, adding sequences to the printed cushion covers, etc., can be fun DIYs for cushions you can try at home to restyle your cushions and give a fresh look to your space without spending a single penny! So, are you ready to purchase velvet cushion covers online While cushions may not take up a lot of your interior space, they are those little details that can change the mood of the place if used rightly. Consider cushions as the accessory for your sofa dress up, without which their look would be incomplete.