#i have half of a fanfic outlined in my head around this

[melonisopod]

My personal headcanon for the WH Mirror World is that Ishmael agreed to be a maid under the Edgar Family because she knew the heir was a sickly waif of a man who would probably croak from TB in a decade or two and she can train up to face Ahab in that amount of time, but unfortunately she got really attached to the sickly waif of a man she was banking on dying young.

[oreolemur]

Unknown Intentions- Toji Fanfic

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you happily welcomed the tall muscular man into your home. “Ta-da!”, you cheered. “This is my place. Make yourself comfortable”. Sitting his bags down by the front door, Toji examined the one-bedroom apartment. “Nice”, he grinned, glancing over at you. “Thank you, I try my best to keep it clean and neat”. You helped Toji settle down, feeling proud of your good deed. It was unexpected for him to have met someone like you at the city’s local bar. He was flat on his ass, waiting for his next job. Knowing that he didn’t drink, the bar was somewhere for him to chill out. He was minding his own business until you came along like a stray. Sitting next to him, you didn’t hesitate to start a conversation. After that, you instantly trusted him, allowing him to crash at your place for a few days until he got himself together.

“There you go”, you said, fixing up your couch for Toji to sleep on. “I was supposed to buy an air mattress, but I forgot”. He looked at you and smiled, “As long as it’s not the floor, I’m fine with anything”. Thanking you, he stretched out on the furniture, observing your movements. “Are you hungry? I don’t have much, but I can fix us some ramen. I’m good at that”, you offered as you struggled to reach for it on the top shelf. “Sure”, the man replied, enjoying the view. The higher you went, the more the black dress you wore rose. You didn’t feel the breeze, but Toji could easily see the pink laced underwear that perfectly brought out the shape of your ass.

“Need help?”, he asked, making his way towards you. He pushed himself against your bottom, feeling you up with his lower half. Your pelvis was pressed into the edge of the counter while you were oblivious to the man’s perverted behavior. “Did you get it?”, you asked. His body covered yours as he felt himself get hard. “Not yet”. From his view, the ramen was easy for him to grab, however, he was too busy reminiscing over the situation. Feeling something poking your ass, you looked over at Toji. “Your phone is tickling me”, you giggled. He raised an eyebrow at you, grabbing the ramen. “Phone? Is she slow?”, he thought.

Making the food, you offered the man a chance to shower, so he could relax more. “Here’s a towel and washcloth”, you handed him the materials. “There’s an extra bottle of shampoo and bodywash under the sink. Take as long as you need. The food will be ready when you get out”. Thanking you, Toji sneakingly closed the door behind you, forcing you to back up against it. “Can you show me how to turn it on?”, he grinned with his eyes piercing into yours. Feeling his body heat, you looked over at the shower. “Oh!”, you shouted. “I’m sorry. I forgot. My shower can be a bit complicated sometimes”. Moving away from the man, he sucked his teeth.

After giving him a little tutorial, you reached for the door to head out. “Hold on”, Toji said. You turned around, noticing his shirt was off. “It’d be nice if you could join me”, he undid his sweats, exposing his waistline. You glared at him wide-eyed. “I can’t do that. Our food will burn”, you smiled, leaving him annoyed. “What is her problem?”, he gritted.

In the kitchen, you finished preparing tonight’s dinner. As you placed the food down on the table, you accidentally spilled water on your shirt. “Oh no!”, you gasped. Grabbing napkins, you cleaned up the mess. Unbeknownst to you, Toji, who was standing by the couch with a towel wrapped around him, was watching you. Your chest was wet, causing the shirt’s material to become see-through. Not wearing a bra, the light above the dining table exposed the outline of your breasts. “Hmm”, the man smirked.

Catching your attention, you looked up and smiled. “You came out at a perfect time. The food is ready”. He walked over to you, keeping his eyes on your body. “Oh, do you not have any pajamas?”, you questioned, seeing the towel. “I do, but I’d rather eat first and then dress”, he replied. You gave him an “Ok” while handing him a pair of chopsticks. “Eat as much as you want. I fixed some side dishes after I realized the ramen might not be enough”. 

❤~Time Skip~❤

Getting ready for bed, you put on a sage green nightgown as you headed into the living room. “Are you comfortable?”, you asked Toji. He gazed over at you while setting up the comforter you gave him, “No”. You frowned in concern, “What’s wrong?”.  Slightly grinning, the man thought of an idea, “I forgot to tell you…I can’t sleep by myself”, he lied. Feeling bad, you approached him. “I’m sorry to hear that. You can sleep with me if you want!”. Hearing you say that, Toji instantly accepted your request.

Back in your room, you made space for him on your queen sized bed. “Sorry it’s a little messy. I did laundry the other day”. Putting your clothes into the hamper, you accidentally dropped a pair of your panties, “Shit”. As you bent down to get them, Toji licked his lips at the sight of your bare ass. “Is she doing that on purpose?”, he wondered. The man rubbed his covered boner as he watched more of your privates become exposed.“Fuck”, he quietly groaned, begining to stick his hand in his shorts. “Are you ok?”, you asked as you turned around. He continued to jerk himself off slowly. “I’m getting tired”, he stated, patting the space beside him. You gave him a smile while you put your clothes in the bin.

Turning off the light, you glanced over at Toji. He stared at you seductively, making you wonder what was wrong with him. “Are you going to sneeze?”, you squinted, trying to read his face.  “My room is a little dusty”, you placed tissues on the nightstand beside him. “Use however many you want”. Attempting to walk away, Toji grabbed your wrist. “Hold on”, he said. “Instead of walking over to the other side, you could just climb over me. It’ll be easier”. Without hesitating, you instantly did what he said, “Ok!”. With him laying on his back, he felt your ass graze against his cock. “What a stupid bitch”, he smirked. “Alright!”, you exclaimed, getting comfortable. “I’m going to catch some z’s. Wake me up if you need anything, ok?”. He raised an eyebrow at you, “Ok”.

An hour later, Toji remained awake. He tossed and turned, finding it difficult to fall asleep. “Is she pretending?”, he questioned. No matter how big your bed was, you somehow managed to come into contact with him. Your back was faced towards the man, but the deeper you fell into your slumber, the closer your ass came to his dick. Toji wanted to control his urges, but ever since he stepped foot into your house, he sensed that you were teasing him. It’s not in his nature to straight up ask for a fuck. He’d usually wait until the woman opened up first. However, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was you who was waiting for him.

Putting his arm around you, he pulled you closer to him as he gently turned you on your back. He traced his fingers from your neck, to your breasts, and then down to your thighs. Toji lifted your gown, reaching for your bare breasts. “Mmm”, he groaned, proceeding to take off his boxers. Sticking two of his fingers in his mouth, he began to play with your cunt.

Having your clit in the middle of digits, he sinfully pinched it, making you whine. “You like it don’t you?”, the man whispered into your ear. Feeling him kiss your cheek, you woke up. “What are you-”, you tried to speak, but Toji covered your mouth. “Don’t play dumb. I know you want it”. He inserted his fingers into you, feeling your walls tighten around them. A muffled moan came out of you as the sudden pain caught you off guard. Grabbing his arm, you squirmed around. “Want me to go deeper?”, he asked, shoving his digits in more. You rapidly shook your head, feeling tears form in your eyes.  

Trying to escape from him, he grabbed hold of your neck. “I’m not finished”, he gritted. The look on his face scared you, making you freeze up. Toji positioned himself between your legs, “Just take it. I haven’t fucked in weeks”. Sliding the tip of his cock on your sensitive bud, you cried as you begged. “Please don’t do this.”, you croaked. “I’m a virgin”. Not giving a shit, he thrusted every inch into you. “That makes it even better”, he chuckled. Placing his hands on each side of your waist, he pulled himself into you deeper. You squealed, feeling him painfully stretch you open.  “Please stop. I can’t take it”.

When he leaned into you, you attempted to push him off. He rolled his eyes, taking your limbs and pinning them above your head. “The more you fight, the longer, and harder I’ll be”, he warned. You felt inferior to him, wondering why he was hurting you. “Why?”, you questioned. “Shut up”, he replied. “Why are you hurting me? Did I do something wrong?”. Toji rested his head near your neck, laughing at your patheticness. “Maybe you shouldn’t bring strangers into your home next time”. 

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

ATSV fanfic starring Miguel O'Hara (my weakness!!! 😭)

0. The Slow Burn

Part 1 - the meet cute

Part 2 - the coffee mug

Part 3 - the spicy song

Part 4 - the absence

Part 5 - the watch/the sweet song

Part 6 - the backrub

Warnings: none.

_______________________________________________

     He brought his hand closer to her face, the heat of his flame raging against her, threatening to burn her skin. And then, suddenly, it was gone, and she could breathe again. She looked around, trying to locate her enemy, and found him smashed firmly into the wall, the brick forming a perfect outline around his golden form. What? She definitely hadn’t done that. At least, she didn’t think she had. She turned back and found a new figure standing in front of her. A man, judging by his broad shoulders and heavy build. He was clad in a red and blue outfit, not a single patch of skin in sight. But the material was tight, clinging to his muscles, defining their sharp lines and letting his enemies know exactly what they were up against. He was big and tall and … tall and … big. 

     “Um, please don’t tell me I’m going to have to kill you too,” she only half-joked. She was already barely surviving the fight against the strange new villain that had sprung into existence only moments ago. She definitely couldn’t handle another insane man who thought the world owed him a living right now. The man folded his arms across his chest and let out a small chuckle, almost definitely smirking at her beneath his mask. 

     “I’d like to see you try, arañita.” She frowned at the  easy confidence of his tone, at the smoothness of his voice and the spark of warmth it ignited in her chest. Argh! She hated him already. She averted her gaze, giving herself the space to collect her thoughts and refocus her attention back to the task at hand. She cleared her throat. 

     “Well, thanks for your help, Mr …” she trailed off, leaving him to fill in the blank with a name, something that might help her identify him. He let his hands fall back to his sides and studied her carefully for a moment. 

     “Spiderman,” he supplied. Wait, what? She raised an eyebrow, confused. 

     “Like the character?” Now it was his turn to look puzzled. 

     “Wait, what?” Before she could elaborate, a golden blur shot from the side, slamming straight into the … Spiderman, he’d said? She winced at the impact, cringing on his behalf. It didn’t matter how big and strong he was; being tackled by a man made of literal metal had to hurt. The Spiderman stumbled for a second, dazed, but then he regained his bearings and threw a punch at the other man, forcing him to the ground. 

     “Spiderman?” she repeated, picking up their previous conversation. “The fictional character they created as my love interest because having a woman fight bad guys isn’t good press for the patriarchy?” She vaulted to the balcony on the second floor, her eyes flickering around her surroundings, her brain calculating all the possible ways they might come out victorious. She paused. She’d only known this Spiderman for, what, five minutes? And already she was thinking of them as some sort of team. And that was when she saw the fire extinguisher. Her gaze slid back to the two men below her, both of them continuing to trade punches. It could work. But only if the Spiderman was somehow able to read her mind from all the way over there. She called out to him. 

     “Oh god. Please don’t tell me you’re just a random guy in a costume,” she teased him, flying over his head to get to her new weapon of choice. He hunched his shoulders at that, clearly offended by the very suggestion. 

     “I can assure you, arañita,” he replied, ducking to avoid another punch. “I am very, very real.” And then he looked at her, just for a second. But it was the second she needed. She gestured to the fire extinguisher, hoping he’d know exactly what she was trying to say. And judging by the slight pause he gave, he did. He nodded, then turned back to the golden man, trying to keep him busy, making sure he didn’t catch onto their plan. “Unlike pretty boy over here.” 

     It worked. The man lit up in flames, screaming with anger as he rushed the Spiderman. X ripped the extinguisher out of the wall and threw it to him, the object landing perfectly in his hands. Without a moment’s hesitation, he aimed it at the flaming man and sprayed, disorienting him. When the can was finally empty, he smashed it over the villain’s head, the force of his blow knocking him out. X landed in front of his prone form, then looked up at the Spiderman across from her, gesturing for him to tie the man up with his webs. He tilted his head, considering, but then did as she’d asked, wrapping the man up firmly in his spider silk. At the same time, she began weaving her own web, twisting it into a thick, impenetrable rope. When she’d finished, she swung it into the air, looping it around the railing of the second floor balcony. Then she knelt down and attached the end to the Spiderman’s, suspending the now unconscious metal man in the air when she stood up and pulled on it. Perfect. Now to deal with the next problem at hand. She turned to the Spiderman, standing there, watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. So he really did have powers. But then why had he left her to be the lone hero for so long? 

     “So, uh, thanks for your help but, I could have used it, like, a year ago?” she told him as much. He released his arms, his shoulders sinking slightly in weariness or exasperation, she couldn’t quite tell. 

     “That’s not how this works,” he replied cryptically, turning to the man hanging between them. He swung him over one wide shoulder, then reached up, a finger outstretched. Except that, it wasn’t a finger, not exactly. She looked on in bewilderment at the sharp, elongated tip, which he flicked across the spider silk rope, snapping it in half. Then he tossed something to her, a small, bracelet-like device which she caught easily. She waited for an explanation, but he just waved a hand at her expectantly. “Put it on. We’ve got a lot to get done.”

He'd brought her to his HQ after they'd returned the Molten Man to his home dimension. They'd been in the control room for about half an hour now, her nodding along enthusiastically to his explanations about his missions and the Spider society he'd brought together. He'd originally intended to just give her a brief overview - as he'd started doing when the other Spiders he'd brought back quickly lost interest in the science of it all - but the look on her face: contemplative, interested ... it had kept him rambling on. Until her eyes had narrowed, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to comprehend his explanation.

     She frowned, her features scrunching up as she thought about how to phrase the question on her mind. “Okay, but isn’t you manipulating space and time to travel to different dimensions also going to contribute to rips in the aforementioned space and time?” 

     He paused, impressed; though he would never admit it. All the questions he’d been asked before had been dumb, brainless. Some of the other spiders hadn’t even bothered to ask any, silently accepting that they’d never be able to understand. But she … she questioned him, challenged his hypotheses, made him wonder if there could be more than just one way to do things.

     “Well, no. Because I’m not actually manipulating space and time,” he explained patiently. “I’m just travelling faster than the speed of light. It’s like taking shortcuts through space.” She nodded slowly, her eyebrows creased together in thought. It made sense. If she didn’t think about it for too long, that is. And there was still the question of the watches and how they managed to stabilise the bonds holding organic matter together outside of their own dimension. But maybe it was best to just leave it here for now. Before her brain started melting in her skull. 

     “Ugh, physics,” she groaned, pulling on her hood in exaggerated annoyance. “I hate physics.” He raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, slightly intrigued, against his better judgement. She claimed to hate it, but she seemed to grasp whatever concepts he threw at her quickly. He knew based on her file that she was a biologist - like him, though that was besides the point - which meant that she must have had to do some outside reading in order to understand at least the basic foundations of astrophysics and quantum mechanics. And she must have been especially smart to have somehow gained an understanding of those subjects all on her own. She gave herself a shake, oblivious to the thoughts running through his mind, and inhaled deeply. 

     “Okay, I’m good,” she decided, ending the discussion. “Can we take a break? My brain hurts.” He didn’t realise until she turned to him with a pleased expression on her face that he’d let out a snicker. His eyes widened, surprised by his own reaction, and he quickly cleared his throat, his features melting back into their usual scowl.  

     “Fine, okay.” He waved her off, dismissing her to go do whatever she wanted. “But be back here by four tomorrow. We’ve still got a lot to do.” He turned back to his computer, forcing himself to not look back at her, to not think about how his watch had lit up green the moment they'd met - an indication of a successful canon event.

     "Adiós, Miguel," she called out to him, her voice echoing through the cavernous room. "See you tomorrow!" He hunched over his desk, his voice just loud enough that she could catch it before she left. 

     "Hasta mañana, arañita.”

[xocasper]

Heaven Ain’t Close in a Place Like This

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader x Gerard Way Summary: August was barely beginning when you found yourself in Mikey Way’s bunk, but time on tour flies by fast. Between performances and post-show hookups, it feels like you’re with his band more than your own. Thankfully, his brother doesn’t seem to mind. Warnings: NSFW content, fanfic logic Word Count: 6639 A/N: They live! Back from the dead and managed to cough this up. I’ve been making jokes about it since October, opened up the original outline at a Thursday concert, scrapped it half a dozen times, and then pulled this directly out of my ass. I hope you enjoy it!

As insane as being invited onto the Projekt Revolution was, the tour itself was prone to even wilder happenings. With each summer tour your band had played, something crazy had taken place. Between Warped Tour hookups and racy, drunken performances on Taste of Chaos, the next few months were destined to be memorable. In fact, you had already set the tone by the second week, after waking up hungover and pantless with a lanky bassist by your side. One that you were waiting for now, leaning against the side of your bus while the metal scorched your skin.

Under normal circumstances, there was no way you’d be out in this heat, but your bandmate had passed you some cash for a moment of peace. It meant the bus would smell like sex for the night, but twenty bucks was twenty bucks. You could already hear the way Mikey would whine when you told him, knowing he’d complain about having to walk back across the parking lot.

He was already appearing in the distance, clad in a baseball cap and band tee, shooting you a lopsided grin as you waved him over. Before you could react, he came barreling towards you, skidding to a stop and barely avoiding a head-on collision. Hardly sticking the landing, he hooked his arm around your shoulder and leaned against the bus to catch his breath.

“Mikey Way,” you beamed, leaning into his touch. “I’ve got a bit of bad news.”

His head tipped back as he panted, “How bad?”

“Like, ‘Max paid me to leave and let him bang his girlfriend’ bad. I hope your bus is empty.”

If you weren’t so amused, he would’ve been a little annoyed. But then again, he was kinda crazy about you, so he let it slide. Instead, he rolled his eyes, a smile still tugging at his lips as he gave a melodramatic groan. “God, you’re the worst.”

You turned to face him, catching his eyes as you hovered a few inches from him. “That’s not what you were saying the other night.”

He could feel his cheeks heat up, flustered by your brazen remark. Truthfully, you had hooked up a couple more times since the first night, and the sex was significantly better without tequila. The second time was more to prove a point, insisting that he could “blow your mind” while sober. It’s safe to say he convinced you, as you found yourself in his bed every few days.

“Good pussy is good pussy,” he shrugged, his hand dropping to hold yours.

You gave a soft laugh and squeezed his hand, beginning the walk back to his bus. “Are the guys around?”

“Just Gerard. Frank’s off with Lazarra, and I think Ray went to grab lunch.”

Although you were a little disappointed that you couldn’t be alone with him, having Gerard around wasn’t the end of the world. You were friends with him too–not in the same way, but he made good company. Mikey knew what you were getting at, sensing your slight dismay. Holding back an arrogant grin, he nudged your shoulder.

“Why? Were you planning to woo me into bed?” he asked in amusement. “Because I don’t think Gerard would care.”

The question made you laugh, warm and genuine, and you leaned a little closer as he traced shapes onto your hand. You didn’t bother to question his comment about Gerard, figuring that he was just trying to get a rise out of you.

“I was not,” you insisted. “Just curious, that’s all.”

He gave a skeptical mhm, but the banter was quickly dropped as the bus came into view. It was no more than fifteen yards from you, but you still smiled at him mischievously. He turned to face you, catching your expression and raising his eyebrows with another curious hum.

“Race ya,” you said, hardly giving him a chance to register the proposition before you were bolting towards the bus.

You could hear the way his sneakers pounded on the concrete, spewing curses as he hightailed it behind you. His lack of preparation led to an unfortunate downfall, causing him to lose by a few seconds—ones that you spent doubled over in laughter as you pressed yourself against the side of the vehicle. The minute he reached you, he hooked his arms around your waist, tugging you from the wall of the bus while you gasped for breath.

“You fuckin’ cheater,” he wheezed, pulling you into his chest with a laugh.

Your arms looped around his neck, grinning wildly as he rested his forehead against yours. “Eat my dust, Mikey Way.”

His breathing shook, lips turned up as a lousy pickup line rolled off his tongue. “Sure you don’t want me to eat something else instead?”

“You’re so lame,” you cackled, pushing him away.

Mikey reluctantly let you go, watching as you opened the door and collapsed on the couch. He followed suit, sighing in relief as a blast of cool air hit his skin. The two of you were quiet for a moment, the only sounds being heaving chests and tabletop fans. Still, he slipped his arm around your waist again, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“That wasn’t a no,” he teased, earning himself a quick swat.

As tempting as the offer was, his brother was on the other end of the bus, and you knew how thin those doors were. “What about Gerard?”

“I really don’t think he’d mind.”

Okay, that was the second time Mikey had said that. If he was trying to drop hints, this was a really poor way to go about it. You were growing increasingly suspicious, and your only conclusion seemed far too unrealistic. Landing one Way brother was shocking enough, but two? Mikey had to be kidding.

You turned your head to look at him, searching for any sign that he was pulling your leg. He looked completely serious though, eyebrows raised in anticipation. Finally, you managed to reply.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

He grinned, finally dropping the subject as he reached for the remote.

“Yup.”

—

Gerard wasn’t a big partier.

He used to be, way back in the day, following shitty friends into random houses with the promise of weed and cheap booze. Things were different now, though–he had a few close buddies, and they all took his sobriety seriously. Peer pressure and substance were the only motivators for him back then, and without either of them, he had no reason to show up. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, so parties were typically out of the picture.

But here he was, donning a clean shirt and his too-tight jeans, leaning over a nightclub mezzanine while you danced below him. You were pressed close to Mikey, hands resting on his chest as laughter spilled from your lips. Gerard could only imagine what his brother was saying, noting how you buried your head into Mikey’s chest as he beamed with pride. He could feel a jealous jolt in his stomach, longing for the treatment you gave Mikey, even if it was just for a night.

As quiet as Mikey was, he didn’t have much of a filter. Sometimes, he would return to the bus with a familiar glow, just waiting for Gerard to ask where he’d gone after the show. His words would echo when the two of you were alone, every comment and filthy anecdote flooding his head. Everything he shouldn’t know, everything he shouldn’t feel. The tension was suffocating when it settled between you two, his chest caving in as he tried to focus on anything other than immoral desire.

God, you’d stare at him shamelessly, eyes drifting lower until he felt flustered and exposed. It didn’t even matter if his brother was there, sitting inches away as low-budget horror movies flashed on the TV. You would curl up next to Mikey and rest your head against his shoulder, watching the pale television light shine on Gerard. He’d notice sometimes, feeling the blush in his cheeks as you shot him a smug smile, seeming like you wanted him to catch you. Wanted him to know how you ached for him, for his lips on yours, skin to skin as he touched you the way Mikey did. 

It wasn’t hard for him to see it, fantasies plaguing his mind at night, the sight of you on your knees and begging him to–

“You’re staring again.”

The sudden interruption made Gerard flinch, recoiling and snapping back to reality. Whipping his head around, he spotted Frank, who took a few steps forward to rest beside him. He flushed and dropped his head against his forearms, preparing himself for another lecture.

“Can you blame me?” he mumbled, reluctantly lifting his head to gesture towards you. “Look at them. Look at the way he’s holding them.”

Frank cast a look towards the two of you, Mikey’s hands drifting dangerously low and your arms around his neck. He didn’t need to read lips to hear your laughter and the free-flowing banter, already familiar with your behavior towards each other. He knew how his poker-faced friend never seemed to stop smiling around you, and he could hear the way you whispered to each other at night as if Mikey’s deadpan jokes were the funniest thing in the world. And now here was Gerard, aching for your touch and ignoring Frank’s endless warnings.

He shook his head with a disappointed sigh. “I don’t know, man. They’ve been screwing your brother all tour.”

“Yeah, but Mikey said they’re not exclusive,” Gerard defended.

Frank’s eyes nearly popped out, barely evading whiplash as he turned to face Gerard. “You told Mikey?”

For as smart as his friend was, he seemed to lack a great deal of common sense. You don’t tell people that you want to sleep with their partners–or fuck buddies, or whatever the hell you were. Especially not Mikey, who was one of the worst secret keepers in the world.

Gerard groaned, “He knew the minute I asked. Maybe before then, too. You know how observant he is.”

“You can’t just tell people–” Frank started, though he cut himself off with another sigh when he saw Gerard’s pathetic expression. “It’s just… It’s not worth the headache, alright?”

“From the way Mikey describes them, I think you might be wrong.”

There was really no fighting this, was there?

He knew Gerard hadn’t gotten laid in a couple months. Not only had he broken up with his girlfriend, but he hadn’t slept with anyone on tour, either. Gerard was horny and desperate and had heard way too many stories from Mikey, landing him in this pitiful situation.

“There’s no one else you can sleep with?” Frank asked.

Surprisingly self-assured, Gerard shook his head. “Nope.”

Hopeless, Frank glanced back to the scene below him. Mikey was laughing at something you’d said before you shooed him off, watching him fondly as he darted out of the room. Great. He didn’t have to turn his head to know Gerard was staring at him, waiting for permission to make a move. Sighing, Frank took a long sip of his drink, counting his blessings and thanking God he was married.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

An amused smile crept up on Gerard’s face, jostling his friend before heading down the stairs. His heart was pounding, weaving through strangers as he searched for you in the crowd. Insecurity and anxiety swarmed his head, and he began to consider quitting before it was too late. He wanted to prove Frank wrong though–he wanted you. Besides, he couldn’t run now, watching you turn to face him from a few feet away.

“Gerard!” you smiled, stepping closer to hear him over the music.

He couldn’t fight a grin, greeting you with the same energy. “Where’d Mikey run off to?”

“He said he was going to the bathroom, but you know he’ll get distracted on his way out.”

Knowing his brother, he had a good fifteen minutes before his return. This was his opportunity, trying to calm his nerves as you looked at him with hopeful eyes.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said sweetly. “I can keep you company.”

Small talk flowed easily as the minutes ticked by, your enthusiasm contagious as Gerard blushed and laughed softly throughout your tour stories. The room had steadily gotten louder, booming speakers and obnoxious chatter drowning out your conversation until you were less than a foot away. He only realized it after you had gone quiet, staring at him with wide eyes.

His breathing stalled, and he swallowed hard as his eyes flitted from yours to the people around him. You were giving him that look again–the one that pleaded for him to touch you, an open invitation to make a move. Even if he wanted to, he was frozen in place, lips parting to speak but nothing came out.

You leaned a bit closer, trying not to smile as you spoke. “You know, Mikey told me something interesting last week.”

Fuck. Gerard could already feel himself burning with embarrassment, already fearing your next sentence. He knew exactly where this was going, and for the first time ever, he wanted to throttle his little brother. Fumbling for words, he managed to mumble, “He did?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Gerard, why’d you come to the club with us?”

As if it would do him any favors, he pinned it on his friends. “Everyone else was coming.”

You were obviously skeptical, resting your palms on his chest, feeling his heart race through his t-shirt. He felt lightheaded as you touched him, watching your hands glide across his shoulders and arms snake around his neck.

“No other reason?”

His tongue darted out briefly, wetting his lips as he stared at yours, cursing his nerves and shaky hands. The room was so fucking tense, and as he let out a breath, he spoke the words you’d been waiting to hear.

“I wanted to see you.”

Before he could overthink his confession, you had pressed your lips to his in a fleeting kiss. Gerard blinked back at you when you pulled away, his hands still hanging awkwardly by his sides. His expression bordered on unreadable, his features painted with a mix of shock and nervousness. You considered stepping back, worrying that you’d come on too strong, but his lips were back on yours before you could apologize.

Despite being unsure at first, he eased up quickly, letting his hands gravitate towards your hips. The room seemed to pause as he touched you, fingers hooking around your belt loops to pull you closer. It was gentle but sudden, a soft gasp parting your lips. Gerard stifled a smile, satisfied as his tongue swept across them, reveling in your desperation. With your hand pressed to the nape of his neck, you brought him closer, fingers catching in his hair. On a whim, you gave a brief tug, your stomach doing somersaults at his reaction.

The moan that ripped from his throat was nothing short of wanton, a cross between pleasure and need as you broke apart. His head tipped back for a second, eyes screwed shut and his neck exposed. You took it as an opportunity, scraping your teeth against his skin and soothing it with your tongue.

“You know,” you breathed, nipping below his ear. “Mikey’s into that, too. Likes me to pull his hair when we fuck, mark him up real pretty.”

Gerard didn’t need to know that, but he couldn’t help but picture being in his brother’s place. His name in your mouth, your hands across his back, leaving little crescents for him to find the next morning. He swallowed hard, nearly groaning as he spoke. “God, you can’t say that.”

You pushed his head back down, fingers still threaded through his hair. Your breath fanned across his lips, so close to his, although you had no intentions of kissing him yet.

“That I’ve slept with Mikey?” you asked, as if you knew it turned him on. “Why?”

“Because he’s my brother.”

He said it sheepishly, not offended or uncomfortable, simply using it as a pointless defense. Truthfully, he didn’t care what Mikey got up to—he probably knew most of it, anyway. Hearing you say it sent him reeling though, flustered by your shamelessness.

“Because you want me too, don’t you?” you teased, giving him a featherlight kiss.

Of course he did. You saw right through him, your lips turning up in a faint smile when you caught him. After a moment, he gave in. “Mhm, how’d you guess?”

Gerard felt like he was on fire, slotting his lips against yours again, ignoring the way he burned with passion and embarrassment. You could almost feel the anxiety radiating off of him, hands shifting to cradle his face as your tongue glided against his. He still tasted like his soda from the bar, lips artificially sweet with the faintest flavor of cola. You didn’t mind, nipping at them gently, drawing a whiny moan from him.

To his surprise—and humiliation—you weren’t the only one to hear it. A light hand pressed against your lower back, causing you to stir. Gerard noticed, his lashes fluttering open when you pulled away. Mikey stood behind you, and Gerard retracted his hands from your hips immediately, eyes swimming with guilt.

Mikey seemed unfazed, instead flashing his brother a smug grin. “I told you they were good with their mouth.”

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh, flushing as he tried to think of a response. This whole situation was so bizarre, and his train of thought completely derailed when you reached for his hand. His eyes flicked towards Mikey, who simply nodded towards you in permission.

One of his palms rested on your cheek, holding you close as he kissed you with a newfound fervor. Now, he wanted to show off, knowing that you had an audience. Mikey positioned himself behind you, his strong arms around your waist while his teeth grazed the crook of your neck.

Smoothly, his fingers drifted to your jaw, pulling you away from Gerard to press his lips to yours instead. He kissed you so sensually, slow and deep while his brother watched intently from a foot away. It made you dizzy, stomach fluttering at the sweep of his tongue, eliciting a moan that had Gerard stiffening in his jeans. It was all weirdly hot, and you seriously needed to go somewhere more private.

Mikey seemed to read your mind, drawing back and locking eyes with Gerard. You could’ve sworn they had telepathy, leaving you confused and completely out of the loop during their silent exchange.

“We’re at the hotel tonight,” Gerard said, and Mikey gave you a delicate push toward him.

He looked at you with a burning desire, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he gave you a once-over. Gently, his fingers slipped beneath your chin, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Think you can handle both of us?”

—

The moment the door shut, you were back in Mikey’s arms, having rushed down the hotel hall with his arm around your waist. Gerard’s hand was still in yours, giving you a light squeeze before letting go, turning to lock the door while Mikey kissed you in the middle of the room. His hands were already drifting beneath your shirt, his touch rising higher as his thumbs stroked your skin.

“No bra?” he asked, beaming as you tugged at the hem of his tee.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, giving an out-of-breath answer. “It’s August.”

He laughed lightly, part of him wishing that it could always be August. Sliding your hands further up his chest, you let him steal a few more kisses before mumbling softly.

“Off.”

Compliant, he pulled away, letting his brother take over while he stripped off his shirt. Gerard pressed himself against your back and rucked up your top as well, hardly waiting for it to hit the ground before his lips were ghosting your neck. Your head fell back against his shoulder, moaning lightly as he gave you a playful bite.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this?” he asked. “Mikey, tell them.”

Mikey stepped forward again, kissing you briefly before answering. “Weeks, baby. I’d come back after shows, and he’d ask where I’d been,” he said, pausing as his lips brushed against yours. “He wanted me to tell him how pretty you sound when you’re begging for it.”

The sweet sound that left your mouth was swiftly muffled by Mikey, kissing you heatedly while his fingers traced your waistband. If that weren’t enough, Gerard’s hands were climbing higher, tracing your curves with a contrasting tenderness. Familiar wetness was growing between your thighs, and it seemed to increase tenfold when he sucked a soft bruise into your skin. As if he could sense it, he mouthed below your ear, pricking your neck with his teeth.

“Gonna let us take care of you?” he questioned breathily, rolling your nipples beneath his thumbs.

You mewled softly and incidentally ground against his hard-on, squirming further as he let out a groan. His eyes drew shut, planting a kiss at the top of your jaw while Mikey popped the button on your jeans, reluctantly pulling back to let you undress. You almost whined at his absence, lashes fluttering when Mikey pulled away with a final tug to your lower lip, mimicking Gerard’s behavior. Two more pairs of jeans joined yours on the floor, and Gerard gave you an eager spank as you climbed onto the mattress.

“Cute panties,” he teased, studying your form as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Nice of you to dress for the occasion.”

Mikey huffed a laugh, and you glanced down to see Gerard between your legs. Sure enough, you were donning black lace, and your stomach fluttered at the sight. They barely covered you, mostly mesh with intricate designs stitched on, and Gerard was more than happy about it.

Briefly, your gaze met his, catching the predatory glint in his eyes. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, eyes half-lidded as you stared at him. “Picked ‘em out just for you,” you said, shifting closer to him.

He grinned, bending your knees and smoothing his hands over your thighs. “You’re just the sweetest little thing, aren’t you?”

You hummed, beaming as your head dropped back against the pillows. “That’s what they tell me.”

Amused, Mikey settled beside you, resuming his brother’s work from earlier as his fingers dragged along your chest. You ran a hand through his hair, grip tightening with a shaky gasp as Gerard’s tongue glided up your clothed slit. It was only to rile you up, proven as his lips trailed towards your thighs instead. His hands were warm against you, running smoothly across your legs in mild wonder. Part of him was still shocked that this was real—that you were truly in his hotel room, eyes screwed shut as he scattered kisses across your skin. Every move he made had you buzzing, desperate for contact as his mouth inched closer to your cunt.

Eager, you made a gentle shift towards him, arching slightly as Mikey’s tongue flicked against you. Gerard spared you a sly glance, fingers tugging at your waistband before he spoke. “Someone’s excited.”

You began to retort, but the words spun into a soft gasp when Mikey tweaked one of your nipples. His timing was absolutely intentional, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, relishing in the warmth of his tongue as it swirled against you. With excessive effort, you managed to collect yourself, taking a weak breath and shooting back, “Someone’s a tease.”

“Maybe,” Gerard agreed, dropping your panties onto the pile of discarded clothes. “But I’ll make it up to you.”

You almost missed his promise, already losing your comprehension skills as his brother redirected your attention. From your first night with Mikey, you knew he was good with his mouth, and he certainly knew what he was doing now. He already knew what made you tick, and he used Gerard to his advantage. It seemed that any time you gave the older one attention, Mikey’s mouth was back on you, more out of amusement than envy. If you thought for even a moment that you could lift your head and watch Gerard, he’d catch your nipple between his teeth, just light enough for your eyes to fall shut, giving his hair a reflexive tug.

Cursing, you let your hand slide down to his cheek, pulling him from your chest for a moment. They were in mental cahoots, you swore to God, barely beginning to kiss Mikey before Gerard was flattening his tongue against you. Mikey hardly muffled it, fingers still at work while you moaned against his lips. Slowly, your free hand drifted down to Gerard, the other pressed against Mikey’s chest. Gerard gave a sweet hum as you ran your fingers through his hair, sucking a kiss to your clit in return.

A moan slipped past your lips, arching towards him while Mikey moved to kiss along your jaw. You could feel him smiling against your skin, nipping before mumbling praise in your ear. “You’re being so good for us, you know that?”

You nodded, pressing your head harder into the pillows as they double-teamed, a slew of erotic noises spilling into the air. Gerard pulled you closer, reveling in your touch as your hand smoothed through his hair. Much to your objection, he pulled away, fingers passing his lips before spreading you open. Briefly, you managed to lock eyes with him, watching as he gave a slow lick. He moaned against you, just loud enough to get a reaction.

“Taste so fuckin’ pretty, babe,” he praised, circling your clit with his thumb.

Mikey pressed his hand against your abdomen, shooting Gerard a smug look. “Told you so.”

With Mikey holding you down, you had nowhere left to go, beginning to writhe against the sheets in both pleasure and impatience. Gerard was taking his time, truly savoring everything you had to offer, staring up at you with his pretty hazel eyes as if he wouldn’t be the death of you. Without Mikey’s kisses or lips against your skin, you really zoned in on Gerard—the way his hands hugged your thighs, his tongue like velvet as lapped up your arousal. You couldn’t seem to get enough, desperately pulling his hair in a fruitless search for friction.

He groaned at the sensation, soft but audible as you tried to grind against him, turning his slow motions into sloppy ones; not that he could complain really, having to restrain himself from rutting against the mattress when you were moaning like that. Still, you craved more, and it didn’t take Mikey long to figure out what you wanted. He shot you a look, sly and plotting as his hand drifted from your stomach to your thigh, swiftly replacing his brother’s. Gerard eyed him curiously, humming in question before pulling back, the vibration sending you reeling. You caught a quick glimpse of him, lips and chin slick with arousal, and the ache between your legs only grew stronger.

Gerard couldn’t have been idle for more than a few seconds, but it felt like a fucking eternity as you squirmed in place. Mikey’s grip tightened in warning, although his eyes stayed trained on his brother as he spoke.

“Use your hands.”

A smile flashed across Gerard’s face, watching your teeth dig into your lower lip at the suggestion. He went easy at first, running his fingers across your folds and gently rubbing your clit. The teasing was back, and he showed no mercy this time, lust and pride flooding his veins when you gave an impatient whine.

“Don’t worry, I’m not stopping,” he assured you, voice sweet as he popped his fingers back into his mouth.

The two of them noticed everything—your erratic breathing, the delicate shift of your hips, and the desperate glint in your eyes as you waited for Gerard to move. They glanced at each other and Mikey nodded in your direction, gaze falling between your thighs, swallowing thickly as he watched Gerard’s fingers.

You were practically bursting with gratitude as you took the first one, quickly retracting your hands from the pair to clutch the sheets. Gerard hadn’t realized you needed it that bad, almost laughing at how sweet and pathetic it was. The urge to taunt you was strong, curling his finger at a steady pace and studying your expression.

“Aw,” he mocked, biting his lip as you clenched around him. “You just want to be filled up, don’t you?”

Nodding, you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing a response despite being nearly incapable of speaking. “Yeah,” you breathed, interrupted with a shaky gasp. “Just want you inside me.”

Gerard could’ve come at that, cursing softly before speaking up. “I know, babe. Mikey and I are gonna take care of you first, and then I’ll fuck you. How’s that sound?”

Even if the words were vulgar, they sounded so chaste coming from him. He spoke gently, making you feel warm all over again, arousal stirring inside of you. His mouth was back on you soon enough, sucking on your clit and adding another finger, working for every sound you made. Warmth quickly spun into heat, rising to your cheeks and spreading across your heaving chest, short breaths escaping your lips in bursts. You were close, muscles going taut while Gerard's fingers crooked quicker, moaning as his tongue flicked at a similar pace.

Mikey was mesmerized, his stare flitting between your contorted features and the sheer determination in his brother’s eyes. Each time Gerard moved, Mikey could see his fingers, buried inside of you as you all but screamed his name. He could feel himself blushing, painfully hard as he watched you take it so well, tracing your arched figure.

“You like Gerard’s mouth, don’t you?” he asked rhetorically, rubbing circles on your thigh. Another whine rolled off your tongue, followed by a frantic nod. “Tell him how much you love it.”

Mikey was going to Hell. Absolutely. Damn him and his stupid, arrogant grin, prompting you to speak when he knew you could barely string words together. Gerard would’ve been laughing if he weren’t using his mouth, laser-focused on making you come. Still, his lips turned up, noticeable for a split second before getting back to work. If your fingers hadn't been digging into the comforter, you might’ve knocked Mikey off the bed, but you felt like you’d sink into the floorboards without something to ground you. Even though you were tempted to ignore him, he squeezed your thigh expectantly, resulting in a very pathetic attempt to speak.

“Fuck, Gerard,” you slurred, mouth falling open as he hummed curiously. “You’re so fucking good, please don’t stop, please.”

The praise made him shiver, and he made a mental note to thank Mikey for prompting you later. You were a wreck in the best way possible, vocal and blissed out, pleading with them until the pressure ceased. Gerard didn’t pull away at first, only slowing down while Mikey returned to your side, purring praise and stroking your cheek. You could barely understand what he was saying, panting and staring up at him starry-eyed. He cracked a smile, warm and genuine when you took his hand in yours, kissing his palm and intertwining your fingers.

Gerard shifted up the bed, wiping his mouth on his shirt and tugging it off before settling on his knees. His lips met yours, kissing you with his typical tenderness while you cupped his cheek softly. He got a good look at you after pulling away, really taking in the sight before him.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, smoothing his hand over your stomach.

His touch made you feel fuzzy, despite how your mind was beginning to sharpen. Mikey held your hand a little tighter, tilting your chin to kiss you, becoming all too aware of his erection. Honestly, he felt like his dick was going to fall off if it went ignored any longer.

Gerard was in a similar boat, his eyes softening when you pulled away from Mikey and sat up straight. You looked at him expectantly, receiving a half smile and another fleeting kiss, Gerard resting his forehead against yours after.

“Can I fuck you, pretty baby?” he asked, turning obscenities into something holy with his honeyed tone. “You wanna let Mikey use your mouth?”

How his curses sounded saccharine was beyond you, but it still had your heart racing, squeezing Mikey’s hand with a nod. Mikey pressed a kiss to your head, nearly sighing in relief as he tugged off his boxers and kneeled beside you. Delicately, your fingers danced along Gerard’s waistband, thumbs stroking his hips while he held the back of your head. “Go ahead,” he said, swallowing hard as you stripped him.

He was heavy in your hand, a light shiver wracking through him when you took him in your fist. ”Jesus,” you murmured, the pair almost laughing as you stared at Gerard in awe.

You could feel yourself growing hot, breath catching in your throat before your tongue darted out. Mikey’s hand was still in yours, gently guiding it towards his cock, his eyes fluttering shut as you stroked him. Staring up at Gerard, you leaned forward and pressed your tongue against him, studying his reaction and taking him into your mouth. It didn’t last long, but it was enough time for you to learn how sensitive he was. Wetness grew between your thighs when he moaned, watching his head loll back as you took him deeper.

His eyes fluttered open, glancing from his brother’s concentrated expression to your thighs rubbing together. As good as your mouth felt, he wanted to be in you, and you seemed to want it too.

“Hey, c’mere,” he spoke softly, reluctantly pulling you off.

Saliva spread itself across your lips, and a whine crept up your throat at the sudden emptiness. It took all of his willpower not to give in, but he knew it would be worth it for everyone. After a bit of awkward shuffling, he positioned you in the middle of the mattress, facing Mikey at the headboard while Gerard kneeled behind you. The two of them made eye contact for a moment, holding back a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Their attention drew back to you though, Gerard pushing you onto all fours and giving himself quite the view.

Slowly, he eased in, hands smoothing over your ass while you gasped around Mikey. Gerard took a shaky breath, moaning at the feeling of wet heat. Christ, you were tight, squeezing his cock as he sunk inside, already trying to rock back against him.

“Shit, Mikes,” Gerard sighed, listening to you mewl and gag around Mikey. “When was the last time you fucked them?”

Mikey rolled his eyes, quick to fire back. “Last night in your bunk.”

Gerard snickered, slowly thrusting in again. Every time he moved, it rocked you against Mikey, whose hand cradled the back of your head and pushed you down further. Maybe it was a little slutty, but being used by the brothers had arousal coursing through you, desperate as ever for a rough fuck. Mikey already knew, giving a few thrusts into your mouth while Gerard set a pace, moaning as your eyes watered.

“Fuck ‘em harder,” he told Gerard, who was still trying to go easy. “They can take it, I promise.”

“Is that what you want?” Gerard asked, earning a soft mhm in response.

God, he had never been this hard in his life. You were still trying to grind against him, searching for anything to soothe the ache, and Gerard was in heaven. He pulled out almost completely and roughly snapped his hips against yours, biting his lip hard enough to bleed when a loud cry tore from your throat. Mikey looked so pleased with himself, panting as sweat clung to his hairline, his hips bucking until your nose brushed against his abdomen.

“That’s it, baby, take it all,” he cooed, caressing your cheek before pulling his hips back.

You were a mess, pulling off to breathe while Gerard pounded into you with much more ferocity. Mikey held his cock in his hand, jerking it slowly before sliding past your lips again, smearing them with saliva and precum. It was all fucking filthy, from his low moans to the way he pushed your head down, forcing you to be humiliatingly sloppy, making such a mess on his cock. Not to mention how his brother was filling you up, reveling in your warmth, and memorizing how it felt to be buried inside of you.

Mikey always got loud before coming; even if he tried to stifle his moans, you never failed to notice them. His chest rose and fell at a rapid rate, mouth falling open as you sped up, only to groan weakly when you pulled away. Instead, you let him fuck your fist, sucking a bruise below his hip.

“Fuck, Mikey,” you whined, scraping your teeth against his thigh just to hear him moan. “Gonna come for me?”

He gave a soft hum, cock twitching as you took him back in your mouth, pumping your fist a few more times before he came down your throat. Gerard couldn’t tear his eyes away, catching the look of bliss on Mikey’s face, slack-jawed and pupils blown while you stuck your tongue out with pride. Your hand kept moving even after Mikey had come, stroking him until he slumped against the headboard, admiring you with contrasting chastity.

The same pressure from earlier had begun to build, leaving you sensitive and desperate as Gerard’s merciless rhythm continued. It was almost embarrassing how needy you sounded, dropping your head against the mattress while he pulled your hips against his, moaning and panting behind you. Every whimper and cry went straight to his cock, and Gerard was growing closer by the second. He could feel it, his head spinning and muscles beginning to stiffen, bottoming out while you clenched around him.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, his voice far softer than the snap of his hips. “Can you come for me?”

His stomach fucking fluttered as you let out one of the most pornographic sounds he’d ever heard, moaning and pleading with him to keep going while he pounded you into the mattress. Your whole body tensed, gripping the sheets in one hand while Mikey held the other.

“I’m not gonna stop,” Gerard assured you. “I’ve got you.”

It didn’t take much more than his praise and consolation for you to succumb to your release, warmth rippling through you once more. Gerard gave a few more thrusts before pulling out, cock twitching in his hand as he finished himself off. Stuck in a blissful stupor, you could hardly comprehend their praise, more focused on coming to your senses. You felt heavy, watching Mikey pull his boxers back on while Gerard disappeared into the bathroom. Mikey petted your head gently and you blinked up at him bleary-eyed, letting out a light sigh as a warm washcloth brushed across your skin.

He pulled you into his lap once Gerard had finished cleaning up, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “You’re perfect,” he mumbled, peppering kisses on your shoulder.

You laughed quietly and leaned into his touch, watching Gerard redress and flick off the lights before climbing under the covers. You and Mikey joined him, sharing a few kisses and affectionate murmurs. Eventually, your breathing took on an even pattern, Mikey’s shifting came to a stop, and Gerard’s eyelids grew heavy. Before he could fall asleep though, Gerard took his phone from the nightstand, sending a quick text.

To: Frank worth it.

taglist: @lubbockshusband @newgirlinhell @blackberryblossom @whothefuckisfranklero @griffinfinity @heaveaux @aliceblxck @ce-ci @halloweenbitch2764 @saywhaaaa @ghostsinthesnowandsun @doc-martens-enthusiast @couldbegayer1234 @chronicallythicc @sy-nx @v3nuslvrr @artistheweap0nn @bringm0reknivez @garfieldenthusiast420 @cryeppy @tellmewegofromhere @cigarettesandalcohols @allthetroubleiveseen @deadendjustice @shutup-im-daydreaming @ilongfor-the-arts @lovessidney​

[literally-just-there]

⭒˚.⋆✨️ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖊𝖐𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 ɪ : 𝕬𝖓 𝕬𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝕬𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Word count : 1,686

Content warnings : none

βeta read : yes (many thanks to Mrs G. !!)

Masterlist || Read on AO3

Author's note : the very first chapter of my main fanfic, already posted on AO3 but anyways, have it here too since the second chapter will (finally) come out soon !!

She opens her eyes.

Her small, clammy hands grip the leather of the armchair. It lets out a wailing creak as she slowly turns around in her seat, trying to make out her surroundings. 

It is dark.

The moonlight shines in through the large windows, illuminating the cluttered insides of the room.

She tries to get up, but quickly sits back down as the ground seems to sway under her feet, pressing her warm palm to her head in a futile attempt at stopping the sudden pain. It comes in short waves, steady as her own heartbeat, but nothing accompanies it. No images come to her mind that could possibly tell her how she ended up here.

Only darkness.

She catches her breath as she absentmindedly rubs her forehead. The pain soon fades away. She manages to get up, and makes her way to a window, where she is greeted by the sight of an empty, misty street.

Where am I ? 

She leans in, pressing her hand to the window, trying to make out anything helpful. Just then, a figure appears in a corner of the street, floating, yes, floating, she realizes, towards the window. It has no feet, and only the faint outline of a skeletal body can be seen under the black, swirling clouds coating it. Its eyes blaze red from under a worn-out hat. 

She jumps back with a shaky gasp, her dry throat refusing to let any scream escape. 

A click echoes in the shop, making her heart jump again as she frantically looks around the room, trying to locate the source of the noise.

What's going on ?

A pull.

Without thinking, she turns her head, sharply, towards a globe. It is in no way special, unlike the golden glow gleaming through the half opened trunk hidden behind it.

Was it open the whole time ?

The light is soft, and gently beckons the young woman forward. She pulls her cloak tighter around her, as a nervous shiver courses through her small body. It is suddenly warmer in the shop. The girl pushes the globe aside, her gaze never wavering as she stares at the trunk, the golden light reflected in her eyes.

She kneels down, and the lid squeaks as she pushes it open; the back of her hands brush an ancient helmet and a sculpted candle holder aside, as the light glows brighter with every movement that brings her freckled hands closer to the mysterious light source. Underneath books bound with fragile covers which faded gilt faintly glints, lies the artifact aglow.

Her hand does not hesitate before grasping the rolled parchment. As soon as her fingers make contact with the soft paper, its light fades off. She turns the parchment in her hand, observing the clasp holding it closed, and brings it closer to her face, to better see the elegant symbol of a tree and the arabesques forming a bas-relief on the clasp. As she approaches her other hand to open it, the mural lamp above her flickers on, making her gasp in surprise, as she looks up at the eclectic lamps hanging at the back of the room, which are now lit up as well. She momentarily forgets the strange parchment in her hand, when at the corner of her eye, she notices the street, outside.

The mist is moving.

She approaches the large window again, her hand resting on the lifeless shoulder of an old mannequin, lowering her head into her shoulders to see under the large letters reading 'ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES' backwards. The bluish mist swirls and rushes off the street, and disappears. The young woman cocks her head to the right and to the left, trying to see any sign of the shadow-like creature she saw earlier, but the street remains peaceful and unperturbed, as if nothing had happened at all. The full moon shines brightly in the cloudless sky, its large, all-seeing eye sneering at the clueless girl.

She is pulled out of her reverie by a man's voice, the words soft and unrushed, as if he were speaking to a frightened child.

"Don't be scared ! It's safe to come out now."

She could have sworn the purple clad gentleman was not standing out there a second ago. Yet, there is no hesitation in the way her hand brushes the lace curtain off the door handle, and pushes the door open. The man greets her with a smile, his cane clinking on the wet and irregular cobblestones as he takes gentle, slow steps towards her, the light of the streetlamps shining on his short red hair and sideburns. From under the brim of his top hat, his bright blue eyes twinkle with unknown knowledge.

"Welcome to Darkwood. I know who you are, and why you're here."

He stands still in the middle of the street, his hands resting on the pommel of his cane.

Darkwood ? What do you mean ? I… Who… am I ?

She steps forward, willing to inquire about her situation. However, he speaks again before she does, gesturing to the rolled parchment she is still holding firmly in her hand.

"The Map has chosen you, and it is your destiny to save this town from its Curse."

Her hand tightens around the parchment. 

So this is a map ? What do you mean it chose me ? Why was it glowing ? A Curse ? Why me specifically ?

"Take care of it, and it will help you in return. Good luck, Seeker…"

The man tips his hat as a goodbye. The young woman opens her mouth, to take a chance and ask him the thousands of questions she has before he leaves, but a barn owl's hooting resounds, and she looks up as the bird flies straight towards her, its black round eyes reflecting the full moon. Startled, she raises her arm in an attempt to protect her face, however the owl's wings only graze her forehead, letting her feel a small gust of wind created by the sharp feathers, before it flies away in the night sky.

While attempting to calm her heartbeat, she turns back towards the mysterious man, hoping for some answers; however, she is met with nothing. She turns confused eyes towards the street to her right, but it is utterly devoid of people. The man has vanished, seemingly into thin air.

Was that a dream ? Am I asleep ? I must be…

She is alone again now, with this strange… Map. She holds it in her hands, and her thumbs move on their own, pressing the buttons of the clasp with one swift movement, as if she had done this countless times before. The clasp falls open, and she unrolls the parchment. 

A city is represented with a great attention to detail, from the sharp coastlines to lonely letterboxes in street corners. 

This must be Darkwood…

Her eyes follow the countless tiny threads of golden light which seem to be woven into the very fibers of the parchment. The lights move in a shimmering, lazy waltz, before uniting in a bright and focused ballet, leading towards a single point. She squints, trying to decipher the small, curvy letters.

Grand Stage

A pull.

The young woman closes the Map, and starts moving. The silence of the streets is only disturbed by the echo of her sharp steps on the wet cobblestones. A stray cat stirs and runs away into a dark alley, hissing at the one responsible for interrupting its slumber. But the young woman does not stop, or even make a sign of acknowledgment. Her feet move on their own, their pace fast, steady, mechanical, leading her further into a city she does not know. Her hand is wrapped firmly around the rolled parchment, its tendrils of light crawling lazily towards her fingers.

꒰ 🧭 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

A little further away, an old man is walking down the street. His calloused fingers move gently and deftly as they knot two loose threads together, to prevent a piece of his worn-out jacket from falling off. A few coins tinkle in his pocket. Maybe, had he earned more today, he would have been able to buy a ticket for tonight's magic show; it has been so long since he saw a performance… He needs not even sit with others in red velvet seats, only catch a glimpse of the colourful stage lighting up from a dark corner, his vision obstructed by flowery hats and newer frock coats…

He looks up. The stars are especially bright. His eyes narrow as he spots the small silhouette ahead. It stops for a second, before taking a sharp turn, and stopping again under a street light, in front of a wall. Intrigued by the individual's unusual pace, he takes a few steps closer, and notices long red curls strewn with flowers, cascading down the cloaked back of a petite woman.

"Hey, miss ? You alright here ?"

No answer. She has her back turned to him, and seems to be staring at the street sign in front of her.

"Erm… Are you lost ? You shouldn't be out alone so late, I've seen some—"

He lets out a strangled cry, stepping back, not daring to turn away from the bright light. Like two golden full moons, her eyes stare at him. He frowns, his wide eyes scrutinising her face, looking for any sign of hostility, but her expression remains implacably impassive. Not a single muscle twitches on her young, sun-kissed face. 

She takes a step forward, and he steps back again. Another step forward. And one backwards. And again. She steps out of the small circle of light around the street lamp post, her unblinking eyes boring into his as they illumine her features, still as an ancient statue's. 

A gust of humid wind rushes through the street, and his hand shoots up to keep his frayed hat from being blown away. Her long red hair flutters around her face like a bloody halo. 

She takes another step forward.

He runs, his nervous hand holding his hat down on his head. He mutters to himself, his jaw quivering, his eyes widening.

"That ain't human !"

[goldenchimmy]

Concert Confessions

Pairings:JungkookxFem!Reader

CW: Smut, cursing,oral(fem-recieving),breeding kink

(This is my first fanfic with jungkook,edits might be needed!! Apologies!)

You confront your boyfriend Jungkook backstage during a performance.

Jungkook knew that he was overworking himself. That he'd pushed himself to his limit once again this past week. But he couldn't help it. He was the Golden Maknae after all. He had to be absolutely perfect at everything he did. Otherwise, he didn't even deserve that title.

The man knew that he was also neglecting your needs. Leaving you for long periods of time without so much as a text letting you know how he was doing or when he'd see you again. But you had let it slide. He was an idol after all and you knew that he had a busy life outside your shared apartment walls.

You had to learn how to balance work and play, just as he had. Or rather... was trying to do. It was still just work for him. He spent less and less time at the apartment with you and more time exercising and practicing his already perfect dance skills.

"Bunny.." You had muttered one night while you layed there in silence together. His cock still securely buried inside you after he had thoroughly used you. "Stay with me tomorrow. We can lay around and binge watch movies. Eat junk food and such..." your voice groggy with oncoming drowsiness as you stroked his hair. Sweat clinging to the long, dark strands.

But he just sighed in return, his half-lidded doe eyes meeting yours. "You know I can't..." He whispered, a yawn leaving him. He was always tired after nights like these. You didn't call him 'Bunny' just for his smile...

"You say that all the time. You're busy all the time. Why can't you just take a day off? Please?" You begged quietly. Listening to his breathing in the ever-darkening room. Moonlight starting to crack through the curtain covered windows of your shared bedroom.

He stayed silent for awhile. You could have almost sworn he had fallen asleep until he let out another sigh. Deep and irritated as he moved to separate from your tangled limbs. Causing the softest of groans to leave your lips as he slid out of you, leaving a trail of your mixed releases on your inner thighs.

"The answer is no. I can't. Not with the concert coming up later next month." His back was to you as he sat on the edge of the bed. His head in his hands as he rubbed at his eyes. The moon outlined the dark ink covering his right arm and the muscles in his back. He definitely had been working out.

A frown set on your face as you gently moved over to lay your head against his back. Your arms wrapping around him. "Okay. It's okay bunny." You breathed into the quiet, before a yawn left you. Jungkook chuckled softly then at your tired state before he turned and pulled you into his arms.

"Go to sleep baby." He hummed, his lips kissing over your forehead and then your eyelids. Over your nose as well before he layed down with you again. Pulling the blankets up around both your naked forms. "I'll be here when you get up, hm?" He whispered against your hairline. The only acknowledgment from you was a faint nod.

----

But that had been nearly a month ago. And since then you've had yet to share a morning with him. If you saw him at all, it was usually when you forced yourself to stay awake or when you'd send him texts asking if he was coming home.

It was getting old. And it was getting on your nerves. Almost a whole month of barely seeing eachother had made you a madwoman. And his concert was tonight. The first leg anyways. It was here in the city, before he would continue his tour to the states. A tour that he hadn't even told you about until last minute. A tour that you couldn't even go on.

Your own plans kept you away from that. You had family here and friends. And online classes in America you needed to attend. A world tour would only distract you. But that didn't stop you from being upset at him for springing the news on you like that.

Through a text of all things!

But tonight you would change things up. You weren't going to wait for him to come home. You were going to him. Sure, you didn't have tickets to his show, but you knew the staff and the other members of BTS. His brothers in every sense of the word. They could easily get you in. Even if jungkook didn't want to talk about this, you were going to make him.

You felt like you had become second to everything in his life. Jungkook had been dating you for nearly a year and a half now. And until now, everything was perfect. You would make it perfect again.

And showing up at the concert that night was only the beginning. The easy part of the whole confrontation. Jimin and Hobi had led you through the back door. They had already performed and now RM was on stage talking to Army as the boys called their fans.

The screams were near deafening as the two men led you around a corner full of staff and bodyguards, into a long hall with doors on either side. Jimim was wiping sweat from his brow before he cleared his throat. "You know...he only works so hard to make you happy."

You stayed silent as you nodded. "I know. But I don't see him anymore. This isn't fair to me or to our relationship."

Hobi shared a look with the younger before shaking his head. The three of you stopping at Jungkooks dressing room. Hobi patted your shoulder as he led Jimin away from you.

You took a few breaths before entering the room. Closing the door behind you, blocking out the noise from the stage and the crowd. "Jungkook?" You called softly. Your eyes searching the room before he came walking out of the small bathroom. His makeup done and his hair wild around his face.

"What are you doing here baby?" He asked, his dark doe eyes wide as he paused across the room. "I thought you were busy at home?" He asked, setting his mic and jacket down on a nearby table.

You watched him for a moment, debating on all the words you had planned to say to him. But nothing came out. It felt like you hadn't seen him in forever. And now you were rendered speechless.

Jungkook watched you, his brows knitted together before he took a few steps towards you. His hand reaching out and cupping your cheek. His ringed thumb stroking over the soft skin. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"This. This is wrong." You whispered. "It feels like I haven't seen you in years, bunny. It shouldn't feel that way." You breathed. Your voice shaky as you watched him frown. "You're always here. You're never home. I never see you anymore unless it's for a brief time when you forgot something at home. You're always busy, and you don't take time out for me anymore."

Atleast the idol had a slight hurt look to his face. Atleast you had explained how you were feeling to him. You had had trouble doing that in the past. But you were tired of it.

"Well?", you asked, your hands on your hips as you stared at him. Jungkook stayed silent for a moment before eventually he let out a soft sigh. The boy chewing on his pierced lip. "I have to be perfect. Always. And that's why I train and work out. Why I leave you all the time. It's not easy. But it's what I do." He shrugged.

"You've used that excuse before. You can't keep neglecting our relationship like this. It's not fair to me. To us." You whispered, moving to place your hand on his arm. "Jungkook...if- if you need time away. If you need a break from our relationship, I understand." You smiled sadly.

Jungkooks doe eyes widened as his gaze snapped to your face. He was quiet as he stared at you. Before his lips were suddenly on yours. His pierced tongue working into your mouth. Fighting for dominance as you opened up for him. Muffling the surprised gasp that left your mouth.

"You're dumb." He mumbled against your lips. His hands holding a tight grip on your waist as he pulled you against him. And when he kissed you again, you leaned into it. Your hands finding their way into his dark hair. Tugging slightly as you used your tiptoes to put more force into the kiss.

Jungkook kissed back with a passion. A hunger. One that he hadn't felt in a few months. Maybe he had been neglecting you, as it was apparent that you definitely needed more than just his lips.

"Baby.." He breathed softly after pulling away. His lips ghosting yours as he spoke. "I have a show soon..." He whispered, a slight smile on his face as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip. His other on your hip still, squeezing gently.

"I know." You smiled up at him. "I don't care...I want you bunny." You laughed slightly. He chuckled against your lips then, looking over to check the clock on the wall. Before his dark eyes were on your face once again. "I think I can spare thirty minutes. Let's see if we can beat your record, hm?" He grinned.

Before you were lifted by his strong arms, the boy moving and setting you on his vanity table the stylists used for his hair and makeup. His lips attacking yours. His hands had secured your legs around his waist, your ass on the edge of the table as your hands dug into his hair.

A shuddered groan left your lips as you felt him push his hips against yours. The obvious bulge in his pants making you more aroused than you already were. "Fuck." You breathed, pulling away for air as jungkooks lips moved to suck and bite at your neck. It had been forever since he had marked you. Had claimed you so proudly for others to see.

Your hands reached down to take off his shirt, but his own hands stopped you. "Not enough time." He whispered quickly, his eyes meeting yours before he nodded towards your pants. "Those need to be off though." He winked before moving his lips to the other side of your neck.

You nodded, leaning back against the mirror. Your head craned back against the glass as your breaths became short. Soft groans leaving the two of you. Jungkook made sure to leave behind perfect purple and red bruises along your neck and collarbone. Your shirt slightly tugged down so he could leave more.

Meanwhile, your shaky hands reached down to unzip and unbutton your jeans, your thumbs hooked in fabric to slide them down your generous thighs. Jungkook pulling away to watch you. His own hands sliding his belt off and unbuttoning his own jeans. Before he moved closer to tug your jeans down. Taking your underwear with them.

Once both your pants and underwear were shed somewhere on the floor, jungkook had you securely bent over the table. Your tear-stained face meeting your own in the reflection of the mirror as you held back your loud cries of pleasure.

Jungkook on the other hand was knelt down behind your bare half, fingers spreading your glistening folds apart as his tongue slid along your pulsing clit. It made your toes curl as you struggled to remain silent like he had asked. The door was locked, but still...you were known to be loud-

"J-jungkook-" you gasped shakily, warmth spreading down your spine as the familiar closeness of an orgasm began. Your teeth working your lip as you moaned softly into your hand. Your hips pressing back against the boys mouth.

"Not yet. Hold it." He breathed against your heat, before he all but pulled away, making you whine, your eyes meeting his hooded, dark ones in the mirror. "I'm not done. We still have twenty minutes." He grinned.

And those next twenty minutes were pure carnal desire. He had you on your back, on your side. Bent over the edge of the couch arm. Virtually any available surface was used in that dressing room.

But right now, he was still driving into you with a force. His cock soaked with your multiple orgasms. The boy panting over you as he pushed your legs back further so he could reach deeper inside you.

"I'm gonna cum baby-" he whined slightly, sweat sliding down his temple as he looked down at you. Your brain was practically numb, so the only thing you could do was nod quickly. Letting him know with your movements that you wanted it. Wanted him to fill you with all his seed.

You wanted him to claim your body again as you moved, locking your legs around his waist tightly. You were safe. Protected from pregnancy. And you loved when jungkook finished inside you. You could say it was almost a kink. A ritual in your relationship.

And when jungkook came, he filled you until you could take no more. Release spilling out of you and around his cock when he slowly pulled out of you. A perfect smile on his panting face as he watched.

You always liked it when he looked at you like that.

"I love you." He breathed, leaning down to kiss your lips multiple times. "I'm sorry I work so much. I promise to make more time with you. Let me finish this last concert and we can go home and talk. Yeah?" He nodded. Finding his pants and sliding them back on after cleaning himself up.

Jungkook helped you up as well, cleaning you gently before he handed you your pants. He kissed your forehead again before he had to leave for his set. The fans outside cheering loudly when he opened the door to backstage.

And when his show started, and he was there dancing and singing perfectly, you were there with a proud smile on your face (and a limp in your step) watching from backstage. With the promise that there would be more time with him in the future.

----

I hope you enjoyed this first story! I hope to write more soon! Leave me recommendations! Until next time!!

💋💋💋

[xenokattz]

Beautifully Created - Ch 8 snippet (Attoye; Black Panther Wakanda Forever)

Hi all. IDK how many of you are here for the sweet fandom memes vs fanfic but *kicks dirt* *hands in pocket* I kinda am not gonna be able to post Beautifully Created for another few weeks. School is SO much harder when you've been out 10+ years who knew?

The good news is 90% of the story is already outlined! It just needs to be written. The bad news is I don't have the spoons to write it at the mo. So here's a little snippet I wrote prior to the vicious cycle of giddyness-despair-rage that is grad school to tide all 5 of you over until I find said spoons.

Attuma saluted Ramonda as deeply as he would have bowed to K'uk'ulkan. The doors to the Council Room shut. The Dora Milaje on the other side banged their spears on the stone floors. He cupped a hand over his fist, shifted his feet, and resting in ready stance. Only a minute or so had passed by when he heard the door open again.

"My-Tuna?"

Attuma startled out of his stance. "Ife?"

"My-Tuna!" The little girl ran out from behind a smaller set of doors behind a pillar. As before, she jumped up at him, trusting him to catch her. And of course he would catch her. He would always--

Attuma blinked and cleared his throat. "What are you doing here, yuyum? Where is your mother?"

"She working," said Ife. "I stay with Makhulu and Makazi sometimes when she working."

Now he understood why she was so confident. Who would not be if they could call Queen Ramonda "grandmother?"

"I do not think you should be here," said Attuma. "This room is only for  grown-ups. Who is with you here? Do they not have a guard for you?"

Ife ignored his questions in favour of squeezing his face between her little hands. "You not visit me ever."

His heart shattered. "I know. I am sorry, my pearl. I have been working a lot these past five days."

"I ask Mama. She say that, too." Ife brightened. "We play now!" 

"I cannot. I must wait here to speak with the queen and the princess."

Ife locked her arms around his neck and sighed, so deep and so sorrowfully, that Attuma nearly left to play with her as she requested. 

"I promise, yuyum, as soon as I am able, before I leave for Talokan, I will visit you again."

Ife reared back. "You leaving?"

"Not for another few days."

"No!"

He pressed a hand on her curls, like coral, like anemone. "Let us not speak of it. Tell me, what shall we do when I visit? Do you want to make a necklace?"

"No leaving!"

"Or we can visit M20 and J10 again to see how the baby is doing."

"You. Not. Leaving!!" In her anger, Ife smacked his shoulder. Hard. Harder than any child, Wakandan or Talokanil should have been able to hit. The membrane on his gill rebreather burst and her fist slammed into the sensitive skin flaps. Attuma's vision flashed white with the pain. His arm went numb. Ife slipped out and she fell on the stone floor, shocked into silence. A second later, she wailed.

The throne room doors slammed open. Four Dora ran in, spears pointed. Behind them were two Talokanil with their own weapons raised.

"Get away from her!" yelled one of the Dora as two others charged in. Seeing him surrounded, the Talokanil let out a war cry and leapt to his defense.

"Ma'!" Attuma commanded, shooting up to his feet with his arms raised. He sensed the Dora reign her rage in but one of the Talokanil-- a scribe, perhaps, the name slipped his mind-- was not as well trained. He could not stop the downward arc of his axe. It connected with the shaft of the Dora closest to Ife. The Dora twisted to change the direction of her spear point but it was still too close. Attuma reached out with one arm and dragged Ife under his body. The point skimmed his flank.

Furious, he grabbed the scribe's axe and stomped it into two pieces. "Control yourself! There is a child here!"

"We thought–"

He grabbed the man's collar and hauled him up, dangling, half-choking. "When I say stop, you stop. I do not care if your head is in the mouth of a shark, you will stop, or I will have your balls bled for the next harvest festival. Do you understand, warrior?"

"Y-yes, Nacom. Forgive me, Nacom."

"And you!" Attuma turned his wrath on the Dora whose spear nearly hurt Ife. "Weapons are never drawn so close to a child! Never! Four centimetres to the left and it would have cut her leg. I will speak to your general about your carelessness."

The Dora crossed her arms in a crisp salute, her eyes widening a second later when she realised what she had done.

Of course, the queen, the princess, and General Ayo stalked in at that moment. Queen Ramonda scanned the scene in front of her as she demanded, quiet as the eye of a storm, "What happened?"

[monbons]

Hello everyone! This is my first WIP Wednesday ever, but figured that's what the real writers do, so it was time to join in the fun.

I posted my first ever fanfic on Saturday. I'm mad proud of it. Check it out if you haven't yet - Kill 'Em With Kindness. Just a little SnowBaz/DeNiall treat.

Then, on Sunday, a new fic idea hit me like a train at 11pm and I have been consumed by it ever since. What if you took The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, but made it SnowBaz? Anyway, this work is as yet untitled and VERY much in the outlining/experimenting phase - although I've drafted some potential scenes (completely out of order and not at all proofread) just to figure out the narrative style.

Here is an excerpt of one such scene:

This time, when the darkness descended upon his bedroom, Baz was ready. He watched as the shadows by the drapes coalesced into the silhouette of a man, as the swoop of his hair took shape, the curve of his pert nose. The eyes were last. Always. Two brilliant blue stars piercing a pitch black night. “Basil, I hope I didn’t keep you.” The dark’s voice, smooth as velvet, purred in his ear even as it echoed around the bedchamber. Both a whisper and a boom.  “Of course not. I have nothing but time,” Baz quipped.  “Always such wit.” It seemed the darkness smiled, or perhaps it just billowed in the moonlight streaming in through the window as it slid away from the wall where it’d manifested. Meanwhile, Baz watched, perched at the foot of his bed, a four-poster monstrosity with gargoyles carved into the dark-cherry wood, wearing nothing but a fine silk dressing gown, his feet crossed neatly at his ankles. He’d put in the effort for a warm bath, doused his skin in scented oils, braided a few delicate flowers into his hair. Every detail part of the show.  “What have you been up to this year, my little lamb?” A hand that was not a hand came to rest under Baz’s jaw, tilting his face up. And now Baz could see in the glint of those blue eyes that the darkness had noticed his efforts. That he approved.  “I’ve taken a lover, who you can see is quite wealthy,” Baz started. He’d rehearsed this. Knew exactly how to prove to the dark that he was making the most of his time. “This house is just one of two in my name. I have servants who dress me and bathe me and feed me. I want for nothing.” “Is that so?” The dark ghosted his fingers like fog rolling over the Thames along the curve of Baz’s cheek before gripping his hair roughly. “Tell me Basil, is this how your lover expects you to meet him, half-dressed and inviting? Or is this just for me?” “Do you like it? If so, it can be for you.”  The darkness laughed and it echoed inside Baz’s head, as though it was not standing in front of him but inside him. “You are my favorite pastime, Basilton. Such a shame you won’t last as long as I’d hoped.” 

No one to tag yet. But maybe I'll have some fandom/writer friends soon! Happy Wednesday!

[halfratsalready]

Help me figure out what fic to write next! ✨

I feel like I’m in a weird limbo after finishing the first arc of the Lose Yourself series and I have a few ideas floating around in my head for what to write next (after the Wanderrose fic exchange, at least), but I have no clue which one to focus on.

So if you happen to like my silly little stories and want a say in what my next fic is, I’ve got some ideas and a poll below the cut! 💕

Idea I: Dark & Angsty Murder Mystery 🔪

I've discussed this one on here before so it might sound slightly familiar, but this would basically be Angst: The Fanfic. If you thought any of the Lose Yourself series was angsty, this fic is probably 10x worse. Part of me worries it's a little bit too dark to be a Just Dance fic. Multiple murders (though not described in detail), an intense attempted murder (that is described in relative detail), and some of that patented Night Swan mind control, plus some supernatural elements later on. But also a sizeable portion of it is Brezziana and Disocball playing detective and trying to solve a rash of murders, which should be very fun, in a weird and kinda dark sorta way.

Wanderrose ft. best friends Jack & Brezziana. Also featuring Discoball, Sara, Mihaly, Mothigan, Cygnus, Felicia, Boss Witch, Si'Ha Nova, and Agent D

I have the first chapter and a half written of this one already. It would be 9 chapters total.

Idea II: Angsty Jack-Centric Post-JD24 Fic 🥀

This is an idea I've had for a while but haven't really gotten around to properly outlining. This is based on my theory of sorts that Night Swan exploited the wrong weakness when targeting Jack in Dance With the Swan, where she realizes after the events of JD24 that she hadn't done it right and approaches it from a different angle. Basically just a lot of Jack-centric angst, a lot of Night Swan & Jack interactions, and a world where Treasure Jack may or may not actually become more than just an illusion...

A lot of Night Swan & Jack but definitely featuring at least some Wanderrose. Also featuring the Just Dancers, Si'Ha Nova, and the Traveler, and maybe some others.

I haven't even outlined this one yet, so I have no idea how long it would be.

Idea III: Significantly Less Angsty & More Random Self-Indulgent AU (Actually a "Silly Little" Fic This Time, For the Most Part, at Least) ✨

I've been toying with the idea lately of an AU where Leda and Sara were sisters on earth and Sara has been searching for her sister. I think it would be fun to do some intentional canon divergence (and not just have my fics' canon be derailed by a new event). There's a few directions I've considered taking this in, including Jack ending up on earth (there's like two or three ways for that one to happen and like two or three directions I could take it in) or Sara's adventures in the Danceverses just going really differently.

Still a lot I'm not sure about with this one but it's been bouncing around my head since Night Swan: The Prequel dropped, so here we are. Definitely would have Wanderrose cuz they own my heart.

The Poll

I have no idea which idea I really wanna commit to following through on first. Every time I think I'm leaning towards one, I end up leaning towards another. So I'm throwing these out there in the hopes that a few of you will be able to help me out with your opinion!

If you wanna share your thoughts in the comments or reblogs also, I’d love to hear what you have to say, so I don’t have to wait the whole week for the poll to finish to be able to see which idea(s) is/are getting the most interest!

[cocrante]

I Start Over With You

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 15]

NICO STOOD STILL, GAZING INTO THE DARKNESS THAT SHROUDED HIS NEW ROOM. That room seemed to have grown colder after the message. He sighed before lying down on the bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and thinking about that one boy who could unsettle his mind with just one smile. He tossed and turned, wanting to try to really sleep for the night.

He fell asleep around three in the morning, with Will's sad eyes on his mind, somehow looking shattered. He had never seen that expression on that sunny face before. He was certain that whatever Will hadn't been able to tell him that night in the woods must be something important to so affect the son of the sun god.

With his head full of thoughts, he managed to fall asleep. It didn't seem like a long sleep to him; it felt like just five minutes, but the alarm clearly stated otherwise. He got up with a grunt, dressing and preparing for the first day of school.

He brought along a few things, some pens and a notebook, hoping they wouldn't start lessons right away on the first day.

The outside was kissed by the cold morning rays, slowly awakening the city. Nico took a deep breath of that air that seemed to smell like true Rome.

Lost in his memories, he made his way to the school. There was already a hustle and bustle of people on the streets accompanying younger children, and then there were older kids in groups making their way to the building. The building looked very welcoming; he hoped the inside would be too.

Finding his classroom was a real challenge. The school was larger than he had expected. But once he found it, he went to sit in one of those desks at the back of the class, near the window overlooking the courtyard.

Soon, the classroom began to fill with boys and girls, all cheerful and excited to start the year. They filled the air with warm and contagious laughter, asking each other how they had spent their holidays, ignoring the war that had just passed.

Then the bell rang, and with it came the teacher of the day. She introduced herself as their literature and Latin teacher, and then went on to outline the program they would be tackling throughout the year.

The morning seemed to fly by, perhaps because it was just an orientation day. Nico wrote down some notes on a piece of paper, names and class schedules along with the names of the books to bring.

During the break, someone had tried to strike up a conversation with Nico, but it died down when he mentioned which camp he came from or that his father was Hades. He was already used to those reactions; he had seen them in the eyes of his companions at Camp Half-Blood, although by now they had gotten somewhat used to it there.

He left in the afternoon, heading towards his new home. Outside the building, his sister was waiting for him, wearing the usual purple T-shirt from the camp. He smiled at her, hugging her as he always did when he saw her, then inviting her to come up.

Still, the apartment was empty; he had nothing to offer her except running water. He would make sure to stock the pantry the next day.

At the table, they began to talk a bit about school, how the first day had seemed to him, which according to Nico had been considered "normal" or rather, it went more or less as he expected. He also mentioned those two boys who had come to talk to him. Hazel shrugged, accustomed like him to the same welcomes.

"Speaking of more pleasant things" his sister changed the subject. "Jason sent a message to Reyna a little while ago, he said he'll come tomorrow to see how the work is going" she told him.

"Good" he managed to say, not expecting him to arrive so soon.

"Anyway, aside from Jason, what happened yesterday?" she asked, with that kindness that seemed to have been forgotten. Nico sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know Will Solace?" he lowered his gaze slowly, wanting to lift that weight off his chest.

"Yes, by sight" he replied. "Has something happened to him?" she asked, immediately concerned. Her brother shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, he's fine" he reassured her. "We spent time together, as friends" he told her everything, about the week in the infirmary, then about the canoeing, archery and even fencing lessons. He didn't spare her a single detail of those days spent smiling again. He also told her about the awkward conversations with friends, and there Hazel had to refrain from blushing, in those times people were really very explicit about certain things. "Then there was capture the flag" he said with a sigh, also telling her about that night when he had held his hand in the dark. "And that's not all" he lifted his gaze, resting his arms on the table. "On the hill, before coming here yesterday" he began, recalling in his mind that warm and pleasant memory. "Well, he kissed me. Right here" he pointed to his cheek, which still seemed warm.

Hazel remained silent, nodding at her brother's words. She knew that look; it was the same one she had when she got lost in memories of Sammy's smiles. "Nico, do you like him?" she asked.

The son of Hades didn't answer immediately, but the answer was obvious, clear as a fresh water spring. "Yes, Hazel, I like him" he confessed, unable to meet her eyes. "I like him in a completely different way than I liked Percy" he said, lifting his gaze to her amber irises. Pluto's daughter pursed her lips slightly, she wanted to see him happy finally, much like everyone else. She wanted to do something, but she knew she couldn't interfere in her brother's life; she would never forgive herself. "Nico, you have to tell him" she reached out, taking his hand, locking her eyes with her brother's dark and brooding ones.

"Hazel, I can't" his voice trembled; he had been there once before, hating the pain that emotion brought. "Who's to say he feels the same way?" he asked more to himself than to his sister.

Hazel didn't respond, Nico's question was a difficult one.

"No one tells you" she replied. "But you should try, from the way you've talked about him, it seems like this Will is looking for a different kind of relationship" she smiled. "Trust what you feel and tell him" the girl added, placing her hand on his wrist.

"I don't know, Hazel, I don't want to lose him as a friend" he looked at his sister, revealing his biggest fear.

"Trust me" she smiled.

Nico sighed and lowered his gaze. He knew Hazel was right, and so were the others. In a corner of his mind, he also wanted to talk to Will about his feelings that had developed over the course of the summer. Even Zephyr had warned him about his own feelings. He had to be honest and talk to Will, he couldn't keep it inside. "I'll try"

Before it got dark, Hazel said her goodbyes, hugging him one last time before leaving the apartment.

The boy went to his room, putting on something more comfortable, then glanced at the books still sealed in plastic wrap on the desk. He hadn't had a chance to take a peek yet. He randomly picked one, removing the protective film and started reading a few pages. They weren't bad, the words were large and spaced enough for him to read without them starting to blur together. Of course, it was still a struggle; his vision started to blur after the first two lines, but at least what he read more or less stuck in his mind.

The next moment, he remembered the schedule for the following day, where he had marked the books he needed to bring. He put them in his backpack, which suddenly felt heavy.

He resumed reading, occasionally flipping through some pages, eagerly awaiting Will's Iris message, and as he had thought, the air folded in on itself, revealing a window into the son of Apollo's room.

"Hi" Nico greeted.

"Hey!" Will replied, instinctively spreading his lips into a contagious smile. "How was the first day?" the boy asked, taking a seat. Nico shrugged, closing the book. "Normal, I think" he replied, briefly recounting what he had also told Hazel, mentioning those guys. Will couldn't help but let out a gentle laugh. "I've already told you, when you greet someone, you have to smile. Just like I do" he gave him a quick demonstration, still stretching his lips into a smile. Nico rolled his eyes, shaking his head, wanting to keep up the banter. "I swear, I tried. Smiles don't work even with me" he sighed theatrically.

"Then they must be blind, because you have a nice smile" he said, without any hint of joking. Will really meant it.

Nico was taken aback by that statement, then chuckled. "You must be blind too, it's not true that I have a nice smile" he replied.

"I like it" he said seriously. Once again, Nico fell silent.

"I like yours too" he murmured, trying not to lower his gaze due to embarrassment. Will smiled gently at him. "Thank you"

They remained silent for a few moments, with Will occasionally parting his lips as if to say something and then closing them as he reconsidered. It was Nico who broke the awkwardness, clearing his throat first.

"So—" he said. "Will I ever get to know what you wanted to tell me?" he asked, with a slight smile. Will's lips trembled a bit, he had been pondering it all day, even discussing it with his mother, whom he couldn't hide anything from. She had advised him to tell Nico, just like his half-siblings from Cabin Seven.

The boy took a long sigh, reorganizing his thoughts. Nico stared at him, patiently waiting to hear what he wanted to say that night, when they had accidentally held hands.

Will met his gaze, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He was convinced it would eventually burst out of his chest. "Well—" he began, stuttering a bit. "The thing, Nico, is that I—well, in a way, I admire you" he said, cursing himself for being so cowardly, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him the truth, not there, not in that barbaric way. He would tell him one day, for sure, but he would do it with the real Nico, not with a projection of himself that couldn't even touch.

Nico looked at him, slowly lowering his shoulders and slightly parting his lips as if to utter a weak "oh". A part of him was disappointed to hear this, he had hoped Will would say something else, something he had thought and hoped for all day. It seemed he had been so wrong.

The two talked a bit more before Nico asked to end the conversation, saying he was tired and that the next day would be a very heavy one. It wasn't entirely false, but he couldn't bear another moment looking at those blue irises, not now that he was sure Will considered him only a good friend.

"Shall we talk tomorrow?" he asked before ending the conversation. Nico didn't respond; at that moment, he wasn't sure if he wanted to spend another night talking to Will, who "admired" him only. "Maybe" he replied vaguely, his gaze now lowered and his eyes slightly stinging. "Will you call me?" he asked, extending his gaze in an attempt to see those dark eyes again, which he knew didn't only contain sadness but also joy.

Nico simply nodded. "Goodnight, Solace" he said, trying to sound stronger than he actually was.

"Goodnight, Nico" the boy replied, his voice sounding more subdued, he should have told him what he really thought.

The son of Hades looked away, quickly passing a hand over that steam-made window, thus wiping out the light from his room.

[CONTENTS]

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20

[acacia-may]

4, 11, 52, and 65 for the 100 writer asks? 👉👈💖

Thank you so much for the ask, Erika! I'd be delighted to answer these questions for you! Cheers!! 💖

4. What is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

SO.MUCH.EXISTENTIAL.DREAD.

I answered this question here and talked about my Langris x Finesse Beauty and the Beast AU. Super fun stuff that I never got around to writing at all unfortunately. I have a lot of plot bunnies, but I think that's the oldest I'm still carrying around and have never made any concrete progress on.

11. What's something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

...do you want to know how the human knee joint works in excruciating detail??? I now have my honorary PhD in Patellar Instability thanks to fanfiction.

Jokes aside...I think a lot of the things I've learned for fanfics are related to injuries. I know way more about corneal lacerations, punctured lungs, broken fibulas, amputation recovery, and direct blood transfusions in World War I than I ever expected to know (among a lot of other things).

I also try to research the personal experiences of people who have similar struggles to the characters I'm writing if I don't have a personal frame of reference. For instance, I think I've read at least 100 first-hand accounts from widows and widowers who eventually remarried detailing their specific struggles in processing their grief and opening themselves up to love again. (A special thanks to the Widowers Support Network. They were very informative.)

Sometimes I just disappear down the research rabbit hole. I once spent literally an hour and a half researching cantera fountains for one throwaway line in a one shot. If the story takes place in a historical setting, I'll spend a lot of time researching that or (more often than not) researching whether or not certain things existed yet.

Recently I have been learning a lot about bridges. (I have this OC who is super passionate about bridges, but I know absolutely nothing about them ��‍♀️ so it's been a struggle). Last weekend I watched a 45-minute documentary about cantilever bridges just so I'd know how they work--only to discover that the cantilever bridge in this city where the fic was taking place had been torn down at this time and a new cable-stayed bridge had been built. So then I had to watch a bunch of YouTube videos about how those work too.

Oh I also do a lot of canon research too (i.e. going back to reread or rewatch relevant moments from the story because I generally want my fics to be as close to canon as possible. There is nothing worse than catching continuity errors in my work. Yikes 🙈

So yeah...needless to say, I do a ton of research--probably WAY too much because it's most likely that nobody even notices these things but me. But it's still important to me to be accurate to the source material and as realistic as possible.

52. How many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

I try to only actively write one story at time, but I generally work on actively drafting and outlining up to and around 5 at once (by shuffling around the ideas in my head). I specify "actively" because I constantly juggle a lot of WIPs and story ideas, but I can only make concrete progress on a few of them at a time. That doesn't mean I've abandoned my wips, just that they don't have my attention and therefore, won't get concrete drafting, outlining, or writing progression.

Going back to question #4, this also fills me with existential dread.

65. What is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? 

Probably "A Ceiling Made Of Stars" (which is DRV3 fic). In a once-in-a-lifetime event for me, I actually titled that fic before I wrote it. It just came to me when I had the initial idea for that story, and I think it's poetic, especially in context. I'm also very fond of "The Hero You Loved" (which is an OMORI fic) though I haven't written the 2nd chapter of that fic which would fully explain where the title comes from yet.

It's worth mentioning though that a lot of my fic titles are borrowed from/inspired by lines in music so I felt I should share my favorite titles in this category too (the fandom is in parentheses): "Tackle The Monsters" (DR UDG) "Hearts In Tune," (OMORI) and "Lights Will Guide You Home" (EOA)

My favorite cheeky title is probably "Everything I Need To Know About Love I Learned From Latin" (Horrible Histories; The Movie) though "How To Catch A Mermaid" (OMORI) is a close second. 😁 "It's a Future Problem" is another fun one especially given what that story is about (and that's actually a Black Clover fic unlike the rest of these😅).

To be honest, I think some of my unfinished wips actually have some of my favorite titles I've ever come up with so I'll mention them too: "Lightning In Their Eyes" (Fairy Tail; about how each of the members of the Thunder Legion first met Laxus) and "Dissonant Melodies" (YTTD; about the Yabusame Siblings' (who are both musicians) extremely strained relationship). But alas, these stories never got finished...maybe someday...

[goldfishlover73]

4, 5, 10, 13, 14, 15 for the fanfic ask game 💕

4.How do you channel characters' voices and personalities? A lot of self reflection. Lol Writing fanfiction is a double edge sword for this one. The voices and personalities are right there. They already have a voice and personality. It makes it really easy. But at the same time, as a fanfic writer, you have a lot of liberties with that. You get a lot of writers that do not make the characters anything like they are in canon and depending on the writing, it works. Particularly in AUs. Especially in non canon ships. Because, lets be frank, in canon Kakashi wouldn't touch Sakura with a ten foot pole like that. But that's also not why we're here. I do not always write my characters the way the initially were portrayed, but I do my best to at least stay within bubble of realism. Lots of 'What would Kakashi do?' or 'Would Sakura really do that?' This usually comes in the editing process. I would advise you to that while writing. Don't want to get into the revising of a long fic and realize that what you've written does not match Kakashi's personality at all and have to rewrite motivations. *cries in fanfic* 5. What techniques do you use to create believable dialogue? Similar to above, a lot of 'what would Kakashi say' or 'What would Sakura say' I've been writing a lot more Gai recently and creating believable dialogue with him has been challenging, but in a fun way. He's very boisterous and very animated and has a very interesting manner of speaking at times. Finding the right words is important.

TLDR: just being mindful of the character's head I'm in.

Also! when I write dialogue, I try my best to have them not just standing in the ether talking to one another with their hands at their sides. No one talks like that. I try to stay away from just saying 'he said/she said' and say 'he rubs the back of his neck' or 'she presses her lips together and looks away' or if they are walking and talking have them looking around and noticing the stuff around them (even if it is the person next to them.) Using the characters quirks and mannerisms helps build out a talky-talky scene.

10.What's your favorite part about the fic writing process? Coming up with the idea and the brain storming in my head. The day dreaming. Then writing, which is the second worst part. Then revising is the bane of my existence.

13.What's the most challenging aspect of writing fanfiction for you? Besides the fact I tend to switch tenses? Which is more of a writing thing than fanfic thing... it's characterization. Hands down. I would like to create a piece of work where there is no time where the person pauses and goes 'that character wouldn't do/say that' (unless it's, you know, a driving force behind the story. Like that's the plot or the relationship). I want Kakashi to be Kakashi. I want Sakura to be Sakura. For better or worse. Flaws and all. Because playing with flaws is very fun. 14.How do you go about researching details or canon information? Naruto Wiki. It's hard because it's been a hot minute since I've read Naruto and to recall what is canon and what is filler is a bit mind reeling. I say that and recognize I do pick and choose what I pull from filler. Like Friend-Killer Kakashi. 15.Do you plan your fics or prefer to let the story unfold as you write? I do both. Usually my first write through is half a story and half outline. The second go through is where I expand on ideas and then start narrowing things down. Then some ideas take hold and I run with it. That's one of the nice things about waiting until you're done writing the whole thing before you post because you can find a great idea at the end of a piece and go back and add layers in at the beginning and no one is the wiser.

Sorry this is really wordy and long, hopefully I answered your questions!

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 10.29.24

It is Tuesday and I am doing my Tuesday update, miracle of miracles!

So, on one hand, I actually did the things I said I was going to do last week! "Getting ready" took a little longer than I expected it to--I didn't finish my re-read until yesterday, but I did finish it, and I have written (drumroll): 1,300 words.

Do not mistake me: I am very excited about my 1,300 words. I finished a scene that had been sitting there, half done, for two years. I had that one and another scene that I wasn't really sure what to do with, because they were both kind of short, but I thought up a third scene I could write and group the three of them together into a chapter, and I did that. I now have 4 drafted chapters and ideas for the next two.

On the less-good hand, I wish I felt better about any of this. Unfortunately, reading the beginning of this fanfic reminded me that the early bits of it were Good, Actually, and I know in my heart that I'm not going to be on that level. ("I’m still me, just a slightly better me. I have a good job and one nice haori and bankai, but the part of me that cares about you hasn’t changed at all."<-how am I supposed to live up to that???) SIGH. Anyway, I'm in this sort of tug of war between trying to think up scenes that are better than the scenes I have in my outline, and just going for it, because sometimes you just gotta write some crap in order to get your head around whatever's going on.

My big complaint with it right now is just that it's boring at a point when I need the story to escalate. It's also turning into a parade of the Best Of Polynya's OCs, which is not a thing I want to do, but at this point, I'm pulling in the greater Kuchiki ecosystem, and it's either that or make up new OCs, which is worse. The nerd squad is back, too, and at least I am happy to spend some time with them again. All I can do is soldier on and hope that it shapes up eventually. They usually do.

I did a few more silly doodles for the Bleach Pilot comic from Celebrate Bleach week. I'm actually extremely happy with how they came out, and when I always complain that I think my art would look better if I left it in a more scribbly style rather than trying to render it, this is what I'm talking about.

Even though it is time-consuming, I'm really glad I've been interested in drawing again lately. I've been doing some stuff for my art club, too, but I do have another fanart that I'd like to do while it's seasonally appropriate.

Guess that's it for now. I have a lot going on over the next week, but I think it's not to ambitious to try to beat this week's wordcount.

[trashyswitch]

Day 17: Interrogation

Drew loves wearing his boyfriend's sweater. But when Vel comes home, Drew refuses to let him have his favorite sweater back. So...Vel bribes his boyfriend with the tickle fight Drew had been waiting all day for.

I wrote this fanfic for my special boys! @foxboidrew and Vel! <333 I hope you enjoy!

Drew was giggling as he walked around, wearing his boyfriend’s Ice Nine Kills sweater. It was a comfy black and red sweater that was several sizes bigger than him. But…Drew didn’t care. He rather enjoyed the feeling of large sweaters. He loved the feeling of drowning in sweaters. And he loved the feeling of being engulfed by something that solely smelled like his boyfriend. And comfy…so comfy and soft. 

He walked around the house in the zip-up sweater with a bright smile on his face and a hop in his step. He fixed up his short green hair, and blepped at himself in the mirror before walking off. Then, Drew brought out his tablet and digital pen, and began to draw some Sun & Moon Show fanart for a while. 

He had just finished outlining his drawing of Solar from The Sun & Moon Show, when he heard the front door open and close. He gasped and widened his eyes, knowing exactly who it was. It was Vel…His boyfriend. He was back from work, and was likely exhausted. But Drew had a sense that Vel would want to wear the sweater Drew had stolen from him. And Drew…he did not want to give it up just yet. He refused to let him have it. It was HIS sweater. His to steal and nom on for all eternity. 

To further ensure the sweater isn’t stolen back, Drew took it off and put it on top of his bed, before putting the covers over it. With that out of the way, Drew ran out of the room to greet him. “Hellooo!” Drew said, hugging him tightly. 

“Hi Drew.” Vel replied, hugging him back. “How was your day?” He asked. 

“It was good. I played a bit of Rainbow Billy, and I’m almost done drawing Solar!” Drew told him. 

“Cool!” He replied. 

Vel walked to his room, disappearing around the corner. While Vel was doing whatever the heck he was doing, Drew sat himself down and continued to draw Solar. He finished outlining the chest and shoulders, before moving onto the robotic arms and hands. 

Soon, Drew felt someone sit on the couch beside him. “How’s it coming along?” Vel asked. 

Drew zoomed out his tablet and showed him the half-outlined drawing of Solar. “It’s good Eclipse.” Drew explained. 

“I see...” He replied. “Hey Drew, have you seen my sweater?” Vel asked. 

Drew blinked, acting like he had no idea what he was talking about. “Which sweater?” Drew asked him innocently. 

“The…” Vel sighed. “The Ice Nine Kills sweater.” He told him. 

Drew tried to think of a good response to this that didn’t sound suspicious whatsoever. “Uuuuhhhhhhh-no.” Drew replied. 

Vel narrowed his eyes and slowly looked over at Drew. “...Are you sure?” He asked. 

Drew veeeeery slowly looked towards Vel, and grew a wide, ‘innocent’ smile. “.........Yeeaaah?” Drew admitted. 

Vel stared at Drew for a good 10 seconds…while placing his controller down very gently onto the table. He was still keeping eye contact with Drew as he brought his hands back. “You have one last chance to tell me the truth.” He warned him. “Do you know where my favorite sweater is?” Vel asked. 

Drew stared at him, with growing mischief on his face. His smile slightly widened in response. “...Nooooooo?” Drew replied. 

And in a matter of seconds, Vel had tackled Drew onto the couch. He grabbed Drew’s wrists and held them above his head. “Awwww, is the poor baby scared?” He asked, wiggling his fingers. 

Drew squeaked as the tickly evil hand touched down on his stomach. “EEEK! HEEHEEheeheeheee! EEHEEK! HEHEEHEE! HEHEEK!” He laughed, fighting his tickles a little bit. Vel stopped his tickle attack and looked at Drew with a happy smile. “How are you doing?” He asked. “How are you doing, huh? You doing good?” He asked playfully. 

Even though the tickles had stopped, Drew was still a giggling, blushing mess. 

“Scared?” He asked with a laugh. Drew giggled and nodded his head. Vel smiled and dug into his hips next. “Hehehe~ Good.” He said. 

Drew’s cute little girly giggles filled the living room for a few minutes. Vel had this method of tickling Drew, then stopping. Tickling Drew, then stopping. Tickling Drew, then stopping. This made fits of giggles and squeaks burst out of Drew every single time. It was an adorable fact about Drew that Vel rather enjoyed, and took advantage of constantly. 

After a few minutes in the hips, Vel moved onto his neck. “Awwww, so shy…” He teased, poking the left side of his belly. 

“Heeeheehehee- EEEK!” Drew squeaked, arching his back as he laid helplessly on the couch. 

“So giggly like a baby…so squeaky like a mouse.” He teased. “Tell me, why the laughter? What’s so funny?” He asked. 

“HEEHEeheeheehee! Yahoo know whyyyyEEEE!” Drew yelled, before throwing his head back with more giggly laughter. 

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Why do you commit the laughy laugh?” Vel asked. 

“Yohou’re meeeehehehehean!” Drew complained. 

“Mean?!” Vel yelled, offended. 

“Yeheheheah! Meeeeheheanie mean!” Drew kept saying. 

“Say it one more time…” He brought his fingers closer and closer to one of Drew’s worst spots. “I dare you.” He warned. 

Drew smirked and blepped at him. “Meanie bitch.” He declared. 

Vel slowly took in a big, dramatic gasp. “You…Little…” He immediately started squeezing his boyfriend’s inner thighs. “You have taken it too far. ACCEPT YOUR DOOM.” Vel declared playfully. 

Drew threw his head back and bursted out laughing and squeaking. As if it wasn’t obvious enough already, Drew absolutely loved being Vel’s little lee. He loves teasing the hell out of his boyfriend, and loves getting destroyed with tickles as a result. And since they knew each other for years, Vel knew exactly which teases Drew loved the most. 

“So, baby…” Vel stopped his fingers and let go of Drew’s hands. “You ready to tell me where my sweater is?” Vel asked. 

Drew’s breathless giggles filled the room for a few moments while he recovered. “Ihihi…” Drew looked up at Vel, unsure whether he should tell him the truth, or lie to him again. As much as he loved the idea of telling the truth to Vel and seeing Vel wear it…lying would earn him more tickles. And Drew may or may not be craving a few more minutes of tickles. 

“.......No.” Drew replied. 

“Determined to keep your precious little secrets?” He asked in a sly, deep voice. 

Drew widened his eyes and squeaked. “N-No!” He reacted helplessly. 

Vel used both his hands to tickle either side of his ribs. “Ooooh, such a giggly little baby.” He teased. 

“Heheehee-EEK! HEEHEE! EEHEEK! HAhahaha! EheheheeeeEEEK!” Drew laughed. 

“Stuck in place with nowhere to go…” He said with a smirk. “I’m afraid you are forever stuck…being tickle-tickle-tickled.” He kept going in his sly voice. 

“EEhEEHEEK! HAHAHA! HAHeheheehee! NAHAAHAA! AAHAHAhee!” Drew teased. 

“I’m barely even touching you…” He smirked. “And yet, every little poke and flutter seems to make my baby jump.” Vel explained. “Are you really…that ticklish~?” Vel asked in his sly voice. 

“NAhaAHAHA! EEEHEHEhehee! Heheheeha-HAHA!” Drew cackled, his laughter jumping up and down in volume. 

Vel started kissing him all over his neck, earning him more high-pitched cackles and giggles. “Such a sweet little ticklish neck…” He teased, fluttering a single finger up and down his neck. “I could kiss this face for hours~” Vel teased. 

“HEEHEHEE! HAHAhahaha! EEEK! NUHUHUUU!” Drew laughed. By this point, Drew was wiggling around and kicking his feet so much, his shirt had begun to ride up his middle, exposing his belly. 

“Oooh? What’s this?” Vel asked, looking at Drew’s belly. “Has Drew…offered me his belly?” He asked, poking it. 

Drew squeaked and attempted to cover his belly. “EEK! NAHAHA-!” Drew laughed. 

But Vel grabbed his wrists and held them up, before taking advantage of this wonderful little ticklish spot. “Pinch!” He teased, gently pinching his belly. “Pinch, pinch, pinch-pinch! Pinch-pinch, pinch, pinch, pinch-pinch, pinch-pinch, pinch-pinch, pinch!” Vel kept teasing, pinching his belly. 

“AHaha! AHAha! HAHAha! EheHEE! HEHEEEK! Heheha! HAHaha!” Drew kept giggling in spurts. 

“Pinch-pinch-pinch-pinch! Pinch-pinch-pinch-pinch! A pinch-pinch-pinch-pinch!” Vel kept teasing, continuing his gentle little pinches on his belly. 

“aAAHAHA! HAhA! HAhah! HEHEHa!” Drew kept going, shaking his head and failing to cover up his face. 

Vel finally stopped his little attack, and put his hands down again. “Alright…” He mumbled. “So…” 

Drew held onto his belly, still giggling up a storm on the couch. His giggles eventually turned breathless as he attempted to recuperate his lungs. It was tiring being interrogated like that…but does it really count as an interrogation if the interogee is enjoying the punishment? 

“Where’s my sweater?” Vel asked. 

“Ihihi…Ihin my room…under thehe cohovers.” Drew replied. 

Vel ran to Drew’s room, and came walking out with the black and red sweater. “Thank you!” Vel replied, playing with the drawstrings. 

When Vel sat down beside Drew on the couch again, Drew rested himself against Vel and his special sweater, and cuddled with him for the evening. He loved his boyfriend so much…and looked forward to every future night they would spend time together. 

[galactic-pirates]

Even More Fic Writing Asks: (fic of your choice) 5, 25, 39. :)

Thank you!

Bit confused though... there is no number 39? I'm guessing because of sequential numbers you maybe meant either 29 or 30. I'm going to go with 30 :)

Anyway you followed me from the Rumbelle days so let me go back in time and pick a Rumbelle fic. Lemme see. Erm, how to choose? Oh! In my last ask I referenced Between Two Fires so might as well go for that otherwise it's rolling a dice time.

5) Did you outline the fic? I never delete anything so I went to check my files. I am a planner but not always for fanfic. Sometimes if it's short enough, then the plan is in my head.

For Between Two Fires I have a rather cool sounding summary. Seriously it's got half the best lines of the fic in it. There must have been some heavy inspiration that day like brain was on fire haha. It's not a scene by scene outline but it covers the main points, and the fic was quite short anyway.

25) Share your favorite line Ok it was maybe not such a good idea to select this fic because this question. Argh!! So, so many. I know I probably shouldn't say that because it's egotistical but man I do love so many lines in this fic. It just hits the spot. Like I could literally quote half the fic but as I have to choose, I'm going to go with the opening line:

“You’re supposed to be dead.” “I’m supposed to be a lot of things.”

30) Would you ever return to the story’s universe and write more? No but also yes. I will never return to it in it's fanfic Rumbelle form. But I have said a few times that I intend to take the premise and include it in an original novel series one day. Unfortunately 'one day' is kinda the operative word there because so many ideas, and writing takes so long! I rebooted my portal fantasy series starting Day Three of January. I've written and edited Book One (almost 100k) and I've planned and started drafting Book Two (got to around idk the 15% mark) but it's JULY - that's into the second half of the year. There are 6 books in this series so odds are not good that I can get to this idea before 2026 (which is so not a real year) and that's if everything goes according to plan (which it inevitably won't).

I do love it though. It will happen one day.

[lunarsands]

Empires SMP S1 Fanfic: Once Around the Empires, Pt 1

Characters: PearlescentMoon, MythicalSausage, Scott Smajor, Xornoth (elf version), Shubble, Pixlriffs, GeminiTay, fWhip, LDShadowLady, Joel Smallishbeans, Joey Graceffa, Jimmy Solidarity, Katherine Elizabeth, and a small flock of adopted children

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor, LDShadowLady/Joel Smallishbeans, Katherine/Shrub

Tags: Empires SMP S1 AU, scosage, nature wives, adoption, wholesome, fluff Note: acknowledgement of amputation (not sure how else to tag that but just in case)

Summary: Having noticed that fatherhood is wearing on Scott and Sausage, Pearl suggests that the rest of the rulers take some turns at babysitting their kids. Everyone gets a learning experience: the children as well as the emperors. In particular, Lizzie gets in over her head, some poignant moments occur, and - as tends to happen with these things – somehow they lose track of who has the baby.

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ A/N: The story of how Scott and Sausage ended up together (and how Sausage came to lose an arm) is currently a WIP by @cynthrey. The story of how they ended up adopting over a half dozen children is the sequel that I’m currently working on.

This particular short fic, in the meantime, was requested by @dianealmera ! | I’m doing something unusual this time, however, and only posting one part for now because I feel bad for how long it has taken to write this! The ADHD and focus issues have been real recently, so the rest is still WIP, but the outline is completed. I just need to fill it out! Please bear with me, and any words of encouragement to kick my focus back into gear would be greatly appreciated :crying emoji: ]

[Bonus: A Small Introduction to The Children of Mythland!]

- - -

Part One

Since she was the one sitting next to Sausage during the quarterly meeting of the empires, Pearl was the first to notice his head start to bob downward – and noticed as his eyes drooped closed, and as he emitted a faint snore. She leaned over to nudge him in the side, although was careful not to hit her own elbow against the metal of his prosthetic arm. His eyes fluttered open but he remained slightly hunched and looked like he would nod off again any second.

While Joey continued to complain at the rest of the group, Pearl whispered to Sausage, “Hey, sleepyhead. Are the proceedings that boring for you? I mean, I’m antsy, myself, but you clearly need a nap.”

“Hm-mph. Sorry,” Sausage mumbled in response. “Mariposa was crying half the night, then one of the twins had a nightmare and kept us awake the other half.”

“Aw, poor kid. Well, poor you and Scott as well, but, which one? I’ll go tell her I’ll kick the scary stuff’s butt for her.”

“I… I’m too tired to remember which one right now.”

“Oof, you really are out of it if you can’t tell your daughters apart.”

Sausage scrunched up his face a little as if that might help his memory. Then he reached across with his left hand to cover the bottom of his eye scar with one finger. “Not this one.”

Pearl figured he was indicating the twin who happened to have a little scar of her own under her right eye. “Oh, Rayen, then.”

“No, no. Not visible.”

“So, Seren.”

“I… think so?”

“You know what, I’ll just talk to them both.” Pearl cast a glance past him. “Scott looks tired, too, but he’s definitely more awake than you are right now.” Just as she said it, the elf in question sitting to Sausage’s left unabashedly yawned without covering his mouth. Seated next to him, Xornoth raised an eyebrow at his brother. For a second Pearl met Xornoth’s gaze and he quirked his other eyebrow, nodding toward Sausage. “I spoke too soon.”

“Elves kinda… have a better handle on sleep issues. Goes with the long life span, I guess…”

“I’m sure elves can be troubled by their children having nightmares, too. While we’re on the topic, if I ask you which of your kids are elves and which are human, will you be able to remember that?”

Sausage snorted quietly. “I’m not that bad off, come on now!”

“Then tell me.”

“The oldest three are elves, the rest are human. See, I got this.”

“Now that’s a tricky answer. Aren’t Liana and Ilan the same age? Got you there, didn’t I?” Pearl grinned. “Anyway, I assume quiet would help you some. It will be breaktime soon so maybe you can take a ten-minute power nap. I guess it was just bad timing you were hosting the meeting this round.”

“Can’t exactly cancel things at the last minute just because of a fussy infant…” Sausage then also yawned. He propped his head up on his prosthetic hand, elbow resting heavily on the table. Pearl expected to hear the metal struts creak from the weight.

She considered the matter and decided she would bring up an idea to the others when the slightly-more-awake Scott announced it was time for a recess.

 Once the two kings of Mythland had excused themselves to check on the kids – and maybe grab the suggested powernap – Pearl swiftly blocked the doorway of the council room to get everyone’s attention. “Just a quick thing I wanted to share before everyone wanders off: I think we’ve all noticed how worn out those two have been, especially today, and they’re real troopers, but I had a thought that maybe we could help out Mythland with more than just trade deals. Would anyone like to join me in extending an invitation to babysit their kids for a little while?”

A few questioning eyebrows were raised, as well as uncertain looks. Shrub was the first speak up. “So, like a vacation trip for the kids and a vacation from the kids for Scott and Sausage?”

Pearl smiled, “Exactly.”

Pix cupped his chin in thought. “I do have to be honest here, while they’ve adapted to having seven kids at once, it might be difficult for one of us to handle all of that out of the blue. Especially a baby…”

“Maybe,” Gem suggested, “We could take turns with only two of them at a time, and someone gets Mariposa on her own, since she would need the most attention without other distractions.”

“You read my mind, Gem,” Pearl said. She glanced toward the Ocean Queen. “Lizzie, I remember you commenting about wanting to steal Mariposa at her debut, what do you say now? Want to try out babysitting an infant for a few days?”

Lizzie’s eyes brightened and she grabbed Joel’s arm. “Oh, yes! Let’s try it out, my dear husband!”

Joel uttered a sigh. “If you insist. Thanks for the suggestion, Pearl.”

“You’re welcome, Joel,” Pearl chirped in reply. She then glanced around at everyone else for their thoughts. “I’ll start by taking Rayen since she’s so rambunctious. Maybe some sparring lessons will burn off some of that energy. And Azahar since he has started training to be a knight.”

“Then I’ll take Elowen and Ilan,” Gem offered, “Since they’re learning magic.

“Hmm,” fWhip said thoughtfully, “Liana likes to comment about Sausage’s arm when I’m here doing maintenance. I could show her things in my workshop that might satisfy her curiosity. That leaves Seren. Are you sure you want to separate the twins, Pearl?”

“They might be less chaotic if they have a different sibling around,” she replied.

“Oh, it can’t be that bad!” Lizzie dismissed the thought with a wave of a hand.

“Okay then, Lizzie.” Pearl grinned mischievously. “After a few other visits, we’ll reunite them at your place.”

“It will be so cute!” Lizzie said with blissful ignorance.

Joey scoffed. “You’re all crazy. How are you going to get anything important done with some little rugrats underfoot? No thank you. Count me out.” He fluffed up his wings as if having taken offense, then pushed past Pearl to continue the break elsewhere.

“Scott and Sausage manage it! And they’re not all little!” Shrub called after him. She looked back up at Pearl. “Okay, so, do we want to work out a schedule and maybe mix things up a bit when the kids change hands? This is starting to sound like fun, getting to hang out with them a few at a time, and show them our empires instead of only seeing them when we come to Mythland!”

Ever organized, Gem pulled out a book and quill. “Writing it down should make this easier – and faster. The tired dads might come back any minute, so let’s plan it out enough so they’ll feel better about getting on board with the idea. Are we all in?” She glanced around. Pix and Katherine nodded, but Jimmy looked uncertain.

“I don’t know,” he admitted in a reluctant tone. “I kind of have my hands full just taking care of my own things. I mean, if you really need me to if there’s, like, some kind of emergency, I could try? But, like…I don’t want to become the emergency, you know? Maybe just the older boys since they’re, um, less high-maintenance…?”

Gem chuckled lightly. “Okay, Jimmy, you can be a backup only if one of us has something come up at the time.”

Xornoth cleared his throat. “I’ll stand by as back up, too, since these are my niblings you’re plotting to abscond with.”

Pearl gave a sheepish laugh. “Ah, right. Scott’s own brother is here. Well, that could also mean if anyone has an issue, they can contact you instead of making the dads worry.”

Xornoth grinned in response. “I think this is a wonderful idea. I’ve managed to babysit all of them at once, although that was technically only for a few hours. They’re all good kids – well, some more energetic than others, but I think this will be a fun experience for everyone.”

 After a little bit of head scratching, a plan had been worked out to have the six older children switch around so there were no repeat pairs and to be with a different empire each turn for two days. As for Mariposa, Lizzie insisted on taking her for the first four days, with her thought being that one child would be much easier to handle for extra time. The rest of the schedule, however, stuck with the two days, plus one extra change of hands. They agreed that four turns would be best for what was, essentially, an experiment. A week plus one day, enough time for Sausage and Scott to get a rest without disrupting the children’s regular schooling for too long.

Joey returned only to roll his eyes when he saw everyone’s cheerful faces – well, minus Joel, who looked more like he was going along with things for Lizzie’s sake. Then Scott and Sausage made their way back in, seeming relieved in the sense that no new issues with the children had arisen while they had been at the meeting. They went to their seats without questioning why nearly everyone else was standing grouped up.

Xornoth returned to his seat and put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Is Mariposa making up for lost sleep by napping this afternoon?”

“Yes, seems like. Thank goodness Azahar doesn’t mind keeping an eye on her during his studies. I think,” Scott paused to yawn, “He’s her favorite brother.”

“Yeah,” Sausage murmured in a smiling but drowsy agreement, “Seems like it.” They leaned against each other, almost as if they had forgotten where they were for a moment. The break clearly hadn’t done much for their tiredness.

Pearl picked up the final version of the paper for the plan that had been worked out. “If you two sleepyheads are ready to continue, I have a proposal specifically for you.”

Sausage shook his head in an attempt to clear the fog from it and sat up straighter. Scott had a slightly pained expression but folded his hands together on top of the table to hear her out, mentally preparing for more life adjustments.

Pearl continued, “We would like to offer to take your children off your hands for a vacation, so you can get some rest, and meanwhile the kids get a bit of a cultural exchange experience. We even worked out a schedule so you know where everyone is at any given time – you’re super dads, so you’ve been able to handle all of them at once, but we’ve arranged a way to split them up so we can each manage things better. Have a look, tell us what you think.”

She held the paper out to them. Meanwhile, Joey loudly announced, “Except me. I have no interest in this idea, and I think we’re wasting precious time right now!”

“Well, all right, Joey,” Pearl chided. “You’re entitled to your opinion. But the majority has spoken, so be patient. You know, establishing good relations with an entire royal family is important for the future.”

“They’re just kids.” Joey scoffed again. “All they know how to do is run around and be noisy. But you all have fun with that.”

Sausage scowled and pushed the paper toward Scott before standing up. “Our kids are already working on learning magic and other skills they need! And one day you will be answering to one of them as ruler of Mythland, but they’re also allowed to have fun! Everyone is!”

Scott patted Sausage’s arm then tugged his sleeve to encourage him to sit down. “So, you… all want to include Mariposa, too? I mean, even we’re still getting used to it, and we’ve had months to learn.”

fWhip put in, “Well, that’s why we’ll take shifts in pairs. Then one of us can nap while the other is awake at two o’clock in the morning, unlike you crazy dads who are both awake around then.” He gave a teasing grin.

Pearl nodded. “And I’m prescribing one hundred percent rest for you two. You can have final say on that schedule, if you want to review it now, then we’ll get back to official business.”

Still bleary, Sausage and Scott tried their best to analyze what was essentially a flow chart of kid pairings switching around. They did trust everyone involved, and everything looked like enough organization had gone into it, so…

Scott glanced around at their friends’ well-meaning faces. “Um. All right. Thank you, everyone. You know that if anything becomes an issue, you can bring them home at any time—”

“Hup,” Xornoth interrupted, “Absolutely not. You’re getting that rest. If anything comes up, everyone can contact me, and I’ll handle it. I’ll gather all the kids at Rivendell if I have to. That’s final.”

Sausage and Scott traded glances, then smiled weakly. Sausage replied, “As you say, I guess. Eight days, is it? Then we either see everyone back here the morning of day nine, or Scott and I take an extra trip to Rivendell.”

~*~

Another week went by while everyone fixed up guest rooms and saw to clearing up their own schedules, and in the meantime Sausage and Scott explained to the children about the special trips they would be going on. Elowen was predictably nervous at first that he would be travelling separate from Azahar for the first two visits, but relaxed a little when he heard that he would be seeing Aunt Gem first. Even though he had a gift for ice magic, he enjoyed learning about other types, as well as it being something he could share with Ilan.

Seren didn’t seem sure about visiting fWhip until Liana proudly proclaimed that they were going to learn how to fix Papa’s arm and do it even better than Uncle fWhip, which cheered up the younger girl. Rayen, meanwhile, ran around shouting about how she was going to be the best fighter ever, and Auntie Pearl was going to be the first person she defeated by the end of day two.

When the first round of rulers came by to pick up their assigned children, everyone was in good spirits and looked forward to having a good time. Sausage pressed an extra bag of baby supplies onto Joel while Lizzie cradled Mariposa – practically needing only one hand due to her godly size – and cooed over her. Mariposa mumbled then let out a cheerful, “A-Aa!” with her little arm up in the air.

Scott tried to convince himself that she was purposely waving since she couldn’t say goodbye yet. He and Sausage then stood in the empty courtyard feeling vaguely lost.

“So, we just…go do some work now, I guess?” Sausage asked.

“I’ll have to find something else to do this week where I would be overseeing their lessons. I hadn’t thought about that yet.”

“Well, we could always go build something with our own hands,” Sausage joked. “Like old times, before we started signing off on projects for someone else to do.”

“I suppose we could. Well, after regular duties, and catching up on that sleep like Pearl suggested.” Scott smiled and reached to clasp Sausage’s left hand. “For now, we just wait for word that everyone arrived safely.”

Sausage chuckled. “Yeah, and wait for snowy owls to arrive when everyone ends up with Uncle Xornoth.”

~*~

Gilded Helianthia, Day 1

Rayen was still running around even after Azahar attempted to get a little settled in the room they would be sharing at Pearl’s farmhouse. Rayen had insisted she was going to learn to fight in her dress just like Pearl, even when her elven brother tried pointing out that Pearl wore a dress specifically designed for battle. Of course, he knew there was plenty of spare clothing in her bag just in case, and at least she wasn’t wearing her fancier dress, although she did point out that he wasn’t wearing anything special to fight in, just his every day tunic and trousers.

Presently, he was gathering together his orange dreadlocks into a thick but short ponytail to keep them pulled back from his face during lessons, pieces of his practice armor already donned. Rayen was eyeing the short sword that he had been allowed to bring, but knew she wasn’t allowed to handle.

“I’m gonna get a sword like that soon! I’m gonna get it ‘fore I’m old as you!”

Azahar chuckled. “You have to wait until you’re as old as me to be allowed to start training to be a knight.”

“I don’t wanna be a knight! I wanna be a battle princess! I’m gonna kick so many butts!”

“Well, we’ll see what Auntie Pearl has to say. You have to get her approval first. If I had to, then you have to.”

“Yeah, but you don’t like to kick butts!”

“I don’t like to fight when it’s unnecessary. There’s a difference. Are you sure you don’t want leggings to protect your knees if you fall?”

“No! I’m not gonna fall! And battle princesses don’t wear leggies!”

“Okay. But you’re allowed to cry if you get hurt, remember that.” He watched her run ahead out of the room – only for her to run headlong into Pearl.

“Wow, I could hear that brave talk all the way down the hall. That armor looks good on you, Azahar. You’re already shaping up to be a proper protector – looking out for little scraps and bumps is just as important as wielding a sword.” She knelt to put a hand on Rayen’s shoulder. “I’m going to teach you a little about fighting today, but you need to be careful about yourself, too. Can’t go throwing yourself around recklessly or who would be able to fight bad guys then?” She ruffled Rayen’s hair. “Come on, out to the yard. I have a few things in mind, then we’ll have a relaxing lunch.”

Rayen took off ahead again. Azahar watched helplessly with a smile. As he and Pearl stepped out onto the porch, they heard the little girl complain from around the side of the house, “Aww, I wanted to learn wif a real sword!”

Azahar chuckled again when he saw her standing beside a table that held several practice – and even toy – weapons, most of them made of soft pine wood with padded fabric over the ‘blade’. He rested his hand on the pommel of his short sword for a moment, then went over and picked up one of the wooden swords.

Grinning, Pearl picked up another of the swords as well as a shield. “We’ll all use practice weapons for now, okay, Rayen?”

The little girl heaved a gigantic sigh and trudged up to the table to take a sword, and then, with an encouraging example from Azahar as he took one, a shield. “Fiiiine. But I’m still gonna fight the best!”

~*~

Crystal Cliffs, Day 1

Gem bustled around her library while Elowen and Ilan watched in silence, although the latter curiously peered out from the hood of their green and gold-star bedecked robe at one of the books she had left open on the end table next to them; they did, at least, feel right at home fitting in with Gem’s own wizardly trappings. Elowen was comfortable in a plain blue shirt and matching leggings, oblivious to the apparent dress code of human magic users.

“Okay, here it is,” Gem chirped, climbing down from a ladder with one last book in her hand. “Sorry that took so long, I didn’t have time during the week to find them all.” She placed the book on the end table next to Elowen. “This one is for you to look at later. It has snow-related spells designed by non-elven wizards. We can talk about them more in a little bit, but – Ilan, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been learning lately? Then we can find something to work on all together.”

The younger child cleared their throat and pushed up the sleeve on their right arm, only to have it fall down over their hand again. They took a moment to roll both sleeves up partway. “I learned a light spell. I can’t make it glow really bright but it’s good for using in my room at nighttime.”

Gem could see their look of concentration within the shadow of their hood as they carefully traced the forms of the spell in the air. A small orb of white light appeared above their right palm, which they were attentively holding steady while still uttering a small sigh of relief that the spell had worked.

“That’s very good!” Gem praised. “I can teach you the extra forms for different colors and one way to make it brighter, if you like. Elowen, I think there’s a spell in that book to make a snowball glow, if you want to try a light spell, too.”

Elowen nodded and pulled the book onto his lap to start flipping through the chapters, content to find it on his own while she began to shape an example of the light spell in green for Ilan.

~*~

Grimlands, Day 1

Seren fidgeted with the hem of her dress as she glanced around at all the buttons, levers, lights, and gadgets strewn along the walls and tables in fWhip’s workshop. He had figured he would get the busiest and most distracting part of the tour out of the way first.

Liana, meanwhile, darted left and right to get a closer look at everything. She had her hands pressed against her skirt as a reminder to not touch anything without permission, sorely tempted though she was. “Oh my gosh, you have so much stuff! Do all these go together? Are they parts for one thing?”

“No, they’re all different projects,” fWhip explained, then smiled at the younger, human girl. “You can look closer, too, Seren. It’s okay to just look, but you have to be careful of everything like with your papa’s arm. We don’t want any little fingers getting pinched, right?” Seren shook her head then crept closer to a bench and peered at some of the metal contraptions laying across it.

“This could all be the arm of a really big giant if you put it all together like one!” Liana proclaimed.

“It could,” fWhip admitted, “but I make things besides arms. There are lots of metal tools and machines that are helpful to everyone, not just when…” He paused, then mumbled to himself, “Which one was it again?” He coughed and returned his voice to normal level. “Um, when Papa Sausage gets his arm eaten by a blood sheep. Yeah, that was it. Gotta be careful of those blood sheep sometimes.”

Seren turned to him, suddenly dewy-eyed. “If my arm got eated by a blood sheep, would you make me a new one?”

“Of course I would! But we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. They’ve been told to leave good little children alone. Besides, isn’t your sister the one who already has a scar kind of like your papa’s? It would be silly if you copied him, too.” fWhip crouched to get on eye level with her. “I’ll tell you what, though. I could make a pretend one for you that you wear over your real arm for a costume. That would be more fun, and then you could say, ‘Hey, Papa! Look, my arm is metal, too! But wait – it isn’t! Because I’m not so silly as to get my arm eaten by a silly old sheep!”

Seren giggled, while Liana grumbled, “That’s not what Azahar and Elowen said happened…”

fWhip laughed somewhat nervously. He knew the story was being changed every time, and he was one of the few that knew the truth. But for now, wild tales of dragons, rogue sheep, and mysterious magic spells would suffice. “Here, let me show you one of the early designs I made. Imagine how funny your papa would look with his arm like this instead...”

~*~

Mezalea, Day 1

“Joel, she’s so tiny!”

“Everything is tiny compared to you, dear wife.”

“Have you ever seen anything so cute before?”

“I mean, I have, but she is cute for, y’know, a baby. They’re supposed to be cute.” Joel watched Lizzie sashay back and forth across the improvised nursery, Mariposa cradled in the crook of one arm with her opposite hand near to support the infant’s head. Mariposa was looking up at her with studious eyes, perhaps trying to make sense in her little head why there was a Big Person holding her who didn’t look anything like a human or an elf.

Lizzie ignored his comment. She held Mariposa up in the air, then cradled her again. “I just want to cuddle her all day!” The baby didn’t have a response, still only staring.

“I didn’t spend the past week building a crib for you not to use it. You do know there is a phrase that goes ‘put the baby down for a nap’, don’t you?”

The crib in question was made of acacia and sat at the side of the bedroom. Each slat was painted a different Mezalean-related color: lime green, magenta, orange, and dark green, with a white bunny on the headboard to represent the Ocean Empire.

“Well, who knows, Joel. Maybe after this week we’ll decide to adopt a baby of our own.” Still not looking at him, Lizzie held Mariposa out again and gently turned her to the left, then the right a few times, pretending to make her dance. “Then you can have a little friend close to your own age, instead of all those big rowdy siblings of yours! It must be so exhausting for you to see them running around while you’re stuck in a silly old crib.”

“Oh, geez,” Joel muttered, feeling a moment of panic. “Look, Lizzie, I’m not ready for any kind of baby fever right now. We’re only babysitting for a few days.” His voice cracked on the word ‘few’. “I don’t know where we would even get a baby from. Mezalean citizens come from the Mother Tree. Unless you intend to adopt a fish of some sort…”

“What’s wrong with adopting a fish?” Lizzie asked defensively. “I’m part fish.”

“I thought you were part axolotl…? Or did I miss something about the legendary blue one? Anyway…” Joel went over to the bed and picked up the baby carrier that had come along with the other supplies. “She doesn’t stay in the crib all day. Scott or Sausage haul her around in this thing. Um…” As he held it up by one strap, he noted the size of it and realized one rather important oversight. “I guess I’ll haul her around in it.”

He sighed as he slipped it on, then adjusted the front of it against his chest. “All right, give her here. We’ll go for a bit of a walk, little one, then you can see the majesty of Mezalea and tell your papa how dull his kingdom looks …when you learn how to talk.”

Mariposa stared up at him as Lizzie handed her to him. The infant made a likely indifferent noise, then giggled a single, “Hee,” and reached up to grab at the green streak in his hair.

“Well now. See, look at that!” Joel bragged. “She knows exactly what I’m talking about!” He got her situated into the carrier facing forward and checked to be sure there was no possibility of her falling out, then he headed to the door with Lizzie smiling a smug look of her own as she followed.

Perhaps by the evening he would warm up to the idea. If not, she could always keep offering to babysit until he did.

~*~

Mythland, Day 1

Sausage tapped his paperwork into one neat stack, then hopped up and stretched. It had been a very tedious morning, but all the land proposals and repair funding requests had been sorted for now. He glanced out the window to see the fair weather was holding, and it gave him an idea for what to do with his afternoon.

He scurried out and headed down the hall, glancing into rooms as he went.

Meanwhile, Scott was in the library pulling some new books for future school lessons. He came across one containing beginner spells that he had overlooked before, and he smiled happily as he tucked it under his arm. He placed the rest on the table, then headed out with the other book in his hands.

He ran into Sausage in the hallway leading to the children’s rooms. “Oh, hey, Scott! I was just looking for Azahar to ask if he wanted to do a little practice spar after lunch!”

Scott blinked, then looked down at the book. “And I was going to give this to Ilan, but… Sausage, did we both just manage to forget they’re not here right now?”

“Oh… ah-heh, I guess we did.” Sausage put a hand to the back of his head in embarrassment. “I got caught up in work and thought it was quiet in the castle because they were all out playing in the gardens.”

“Then what’s my excuse?” Scott mused, giving a sheepish look. “Have we started relying on our eldest son so much for help with Mariposa lately that I forgot to check on the baby?” He laughed, as if the idea was ridiculous.

“I mean… Are we?” Sausage asked, suddenly worried. “Or is it only that we’re tired,” he then admitted. “We didn’t exactly plan for that kind of responsibility to begin with…”

Scott smiled softly. “I guess we can count ourselves lucky we managed to meet a child who could be patient with us, too. And has such a generous heart.”

“We’ll make it up to him,” Sausage decided. “Maybe if all this works out, we can have other babysitters more often to give Azahar more free time, and not just giving us a break.”

They stopped by Ilan’s room to drop off the spellbook on the desk, then Scott put an arm around Sausage as they walked along in the direction of the dining room. “Well, going to be a quiet lunch, anyway. I know my brother said he would intervene if there were issues, but I assume everyone is behaving so far, and maybe they’re all having a nice lunch right now.”

Sausage put a hand to his chin in thought, then grinned. “I have an idea how we could have a nice lunch by ourselves. How about a picnic in the garden? Just you, me, and the flowers.” He slipped out from Scott’s arm and jogged ahead. “I’ll go tell the kitchen staff! Meet you out there!!”

Scott smiled after him. The garden would also seem too quiet without the children running around, but it might still be pleasant to reflect on the times before they started growing a family, and remember the romantic picnics they’d had back then.

 Later, Sausage found himself standing over the empty crib in their bedroom, staring pensively off into space. Scott lightly touched his right shoulder. “You can stay up a little longer if you like, but let me help you with your arm first, because I might fall asleep pretty quick – tonight, at least. Although it might be nice to stay up later than usual reading together.”

“Sorry. I was just thinking…” Sausage said, turning to go sit down so Scott could more easily assist with removing his prosthetic. He waited until the redstone signals had tapered off from his awareness to elaborate, “I’m just kind of worried about waking up at random during the night wondering why she isn’t crying, and then think someone stole her, or something.”

Scott held the prosthetic arm to his chest to free up a hand so he could put it on his partner’s shoulder. “Sausage, no one has yet to break into this castle for any reason, never mind make it all the way in here.” He then chuckled gently. “Do you want to put a sign on the crib? ‘Go back to sleep, Mariposa is with Lizzie and Joel’. And then we change what it says after we get word that she has arrived at the next babysitter.”

“You know what, that’s a really good idea!”

Scott carefully laid the prosthetic down in its protective case on the side table, then went to get a quill and piece of paper. “And… done. Now you can rest easy.” He offered an optimistic smile.

~*~

Gilded Helianthia, End of Day 1

Rayen scrubbed at her cheek and fought back sniffles while Pearl bandaged a skinned knee. “There you go. You’re a tough cookie, but even the best fighters get hurt sometimes. I think you’ll be back in top form by tomorrow, though, and we’ll have a few more lessons after a good night’s sleep. Do you think you’re okay enough to help put things away?”

Rayen sniffled again, then nodded and let Pearl help her down from the barrel she’d been sat on for the small bit of first aid.

Azahar waited calmly by the table of practice weapons and gently ruffled Rayen’s hair when she scampered over. He then began to hand her the smaller-sized weapons one at a time. She brought each over in turn to Pearl, who neatly arranged them in a shulker box for use the next day.

As they headed inside for dinner, Rayen walked quietly beside her brother. She at least didn’t seem to be sulking, as far as he could tell. “You did pretty good today. But maybe tomorrow you can wear ‘leggies’ to protect your knees, okay?”

“Oh-kay,” she mumbled in acceptance.

~*~

Crystal Cliffs, Night 1

Ilan glanced back and forth watchfully while Elowen tested the handle of the library door, seeing if he could open it without any sound. Ilan whispered, “Will Auntie Gem really mind if we stay up late?”

“We’ll sneak back to our room after just a little bit. She’ll never know.” He eased the door open with only the tiniest of creaks, then the two slipped inside. He left it open a crack so they wouldn’t have to contend with the latch again later.

Ilan pulled their hood down, leaving their brown hair somewhat rumpled, and took an excited look around. “Dad and Papa have a lot of books, but these are all books about magic!”

“I know!” Elowen said, trying to keep his voice down, but he was also excited. “We can’t read all of them in only two days! So, we’ll stay up, and look at a few extra ones, and maybe we can visit another time to read more of them!”

“We gotta be careful. Like with Papa saying there are scary books and bad magic we shouldn’t touch.”

Elowen gave a big grin. “That’s what’s great about Auntie Gem. She runs a magic school, so she would put all the same types of books together, right? If we find anything that looks scary, all the ones near it are probably scary. So, we look for the ones that are for new wizards, like you and me.” He glanced up along the tall stacks of shelves “…But hopefully those are near the floor. I don’t think we should climb the ladders.”

Ilan raised their arms, barely lifting the hem of their robe off the floor to indicate how it might get caught underfoot while using a ladder. “No, I don’t wanna do that, anyway.”

~*~

Mezalea, Night 1… Day 2?

Joel nudged Lizzie as Mariposa began to cry for the fifth time since they had tried to go to bed. The infant had seemed fine at first in the unfamiliar crib, but after maybe two hours she began to loudly fuss and only quieted when Lizzie had picked her up and gently rocked her while pacing the room.  The second time, Joel had tended to her, and when the rocking didn’t work, he checked if she needed a diaper change, then concluded she was hungry.

She had fussed a little when he offered her the bottle, but after quietly crooning a reassurance, she started drinking. He had gone over the rest of the instructions in his head in the meantime. Remember to burp her after each bottle. Don’t lay her down right away.

He had set aside the bottle and gently placed her against his shoulder, then very lightly patted her back. He heard what might have been a burp followed by what was definitely a hiccup. “Oh, you little, silly thing,” he jokingly scolded. Then he asked of the empty air, “How long do baby hiccups take to go away?”

Mariposa had stared cluelessly back at him, her turquoise eyes somehow still bright in the dimly lit room, and hiccupped again.

Now, though, Lizzie tried all of the previous things only to have Mariposa continue to squall. “Oh, what is it, little one? Auntie Lizzie is here. Did you have a bad dream? …Do babies even have dreams? What have you got to be so worried about, you don’t even know what’s out in the world… There, there. You sure you don’t want nice, tasty milk? Or a little walk to look out the window? See, there’s the sky out there, with pretty stars, and… and, oh, the sun is coming up. Well, we’ll walk around some more and wait for Uncle Joel to wake up, then he can help, too.”

~*~

Crystal Cliffs, Morning of Day 2

Gem tried not to worry when, having planned to wake everyone to have breakfast at the same time, she didn’t find the two children asleep in the room she had set up for them. Surely she hadn’t pushed them too much with magic lessons the day before; they couldn’t possibly have left to try to go home. Maybe they simply weren’t comfortable in the room, and had found somewhere else to sleep? But, where…? She didn’t have a spare parlor, or much space anywhere for children to get into, for that matter.

Then she realized she had overlooked the obvious. She hurried to the library.

The door was ajar. She sighed in relief but quietly pushed it open. There they both were, sitting in an armchair and both sound asleep leaning on each other. She could only shake her head in amusement at the sight of dozens of books scattered around the tables and even the floor. She underestimated their curiosity – or maybe their dedication to learning a new craft.

As she started to pick up the books, she snuck a glance at Ilan, glad to finally see their face. She hoped they would become more confident about themself over time; they certainly had enough of a talent for general magic to be a successful wizard one day.

~*~

Gilded Helianthia, Morning of Day 2

Azahar was awoken by quiet shuffling in the room. It was nearly time to get up, anyway, but he had figured that a vacation meant getting to sleep at least a few extra minutes. He peeked one eye open just to make sure his sister wasn’t rummaging in his bag.

What she turned out to be doing was finishing getting dressed – leggings and all – and then started acting out the warm-up stretches Pearl had tried to teach her the day before. Azahar continued to keep literally one eye on her to make sure she didn’t get carried away, but she seemed to be trying very hard to do them exactly the way Pearl had shown them.

He was intrigued. He hadn’t expected Rayen to have paid that much attention when, at the time, she had been more interested in swinging the toy sword around pretending to fight a monster. Apparently, she had a better memory than he would have given a five-year-old human credit for.

A little later, he and Pearl both became impressed by the way she very precisely imitated Azahar’s every pose as he repeated all the practice forms of swordcraft that Sausage had taught him and which Pearl had wanted him to demonstrate for her, intending to try to rein in Rayen for at least the morning – and it appeared to be working.  Perhaps she would actually make for a disciplined fighter one day.

~*~

Grimlands, Afternoon of Day 2

Liana stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth in concentration as she slowly lowered a piece of copper wire into the form-fitted track of a wooden rectangle. When she figured she had it in place, she looked up at fWhip for approval.

“Yeah, that’s perfect! Well done, Liana. That’s how you can make sure a piece is lined up correctly to fit into the next part. How are you doing over there, Seren?”

The younger girl was playing with a dozen small squares of paper that had different shapes drawn on each side. She was attempting to match the shape from one to another so that they formed complete circles or triangles, with some extra lines thrown in to add complexity. “I got six!” she announced proudly. She held up two side by side to show one of the harder puzzles with two triangles nested inside each other.

“Very good! See, that’s how you can tell which pieces go together and how not to mix them up with something that looks almost the same.” fWhip grinned, rather proud, himself. This wasn’t so hard; the kids could have fun with simple components, and he could teach them some things about engineering. “We’ll do one more that both of you can look at, then we’ll pack things up so you’ll be ready to leave tomorrow morning, all right?”

“Okay!!” the two girls chorused.

As he set up another few pieces of wire, he smiled with the hope that even just one of the children might take an interest, and he could one day have an apprentice to help out with Sausage’s arm.

~*~

Undergrove, Morning of Day 3

Travelling on the back of a giant wolf was a new experience, but it was almost easy enough to think of it as a very furry horse. Gem had brought Elowen to the Grimlands to make it easier for Shrub to pick up both him and Seren, since the Undergrove was the neighboring empire, and it would be a shorter trip.

They did, however, take one break outside the border of the Undergrove proper so that Mother Wolf could rest a little. Carrying even two light-weight children along with one gnome was more than she was used to, but it was the best means of conveyance for Shrub herself, and it was just one more cultural experience for children who were, indeed, familiar with travel by horse.

As they stood beside a stream, Elowen noticed that Seren was gawking at Shrub. He tried to nudge her a bit to get her to stop, although he couldn’t help comparing his own height to the gnome’s, since he was looking down at both of them. It wasn’t too much, but still…

Seren seemed to have reached the same conclusion and blurted out, “You’re small like me! But you’re growed up enough to gots your own kingdom??”

Elowen put a hand over his sister’s mouth. “Seren, you met Queen Shrub before at your party last year, remember? W-We know gnomes are smaller than elves and humans, right?”

Meanwhile, Shrub chortled. “Queen sounds so formal! I kind of just look after the Undergrove, sort of like a guardian. A guardian of the forests! Like my wolves. We guard the forests together, and I also tend the mushrooms – here, see, look through these trees, you can see some of the skinny tall ones, and over on this side you can see the tops of a few more!”

That got both children’s attention, and Elowen exclaimed, “You have giant mushrooms here, too??”

Shrub smiled. Well, there was something familiar they might relate to more easily. “Yeah, I’ve got all sorts, not just the ones like around where you live! They come in so many different colors, and flavors—”

“Diff’rent colors taste diff’rent?” Seren asked. “I thought all muffrooms taste the same.”

“Nope! When you eat enough of them, you can start to tell them apart. Plus, some taste better in different dishes than others, like if you toast them over a fire or eat them raw or cook them with other things! You can try a few while you’re here, and I can send your dads a cookbook if you want to try more at home!”

Mother Wolf nuzzled Shrub’s shoulder then crouched down to allow everyone to climb back on. Elowen helped get Seren settled in place before joining, then off they went for a closer view. The trees became sparse, replaced by a huge range of multicolored mushrooms from regular-sized ones close to the ground, to ones that towered overhead – including the rainbow-stacked castle near the middle of the Undergrove.

“It’s so pretty!” Seren exclaimed. “There are a lot! And so many doggies, too!” She was watching as several wolves meandered around the paths between houses and animal pens.

“Those are Mother Wolf’s children. Like I said, they help guard the place.” Shrub patted the fire wolf’s side after she had laid down again to let them get down from her back.

“Oh,” Seren responded, “like Papa and Daddy has lotsa kids! You have a big family, too!” She turned and hugged Mother Wolf around the neck.

Shrub grinned at that. Mother Wolf licked Seren’s face, causing the little girl to giggle. “You’re like Bubbles! Just really, really big!”

Elowen had begun to wander away to have a look around, but stopped at one of the pens. “Que— um, Shrub, what kind of cows are these? I don’t remember seeing them anywhere before.”

The cows in question were distinctly red or brown, and – apparently, like everything else in the Undergrove – had mushrooms sprouting from their backs.

“Those are mooshrooms! Really versatile critters. If you milk them one way you get regular old milk, but with a different technique you get mushroom stew!”

Seren joined her brother by the fence and watched the herd for a moment, then stuck her hand through to pet the nearest one. ��Hello, moo-moos.” When that particular mooshroom moved away, she withdrew her hand and went back to watching. Then she turned to Shrub to ask, “So… when you cook them, do they make beef soup with muffrooms in it, or do you has to put in the muffrooms anyway?”

~*~

The Overgrown, Day 3

Ilan instinctively kept hold of Rayen’s hand to stop her from running off toward one of the giant flowers, fully expecting her to want to climb it. To their surprise, she stayed calm for the moment, if not gazing around at everything in all its shades of pastel and coziness. Maybe the sheer fascination was keeping her in check. She did continuously take glances at the wings on Katherine’s back, too. Ilan could tell she was also itching to ask about them.

“And this over here is the fountain that grants visitors permission to take flowers from the Overgrown,” Katherine was explaining. “If you see any flowers here that you like, I can tell your dads, and they’ll be able to come by later to pick them up for you – then you can plant them in your own garden! You could also have ones that stay small and keep them in a flower pot in your room all for yourself.”

“You gots even more flowers than we do!” Rayen crowed, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Your whole kingdom is a really big garden!! Did Daddy and Papa get permiss’n a lots? ‘Cause they really like flowers!”

“Your papa likes to build beautiful things,” Katherine replied softly. “He expanded the gardens not just for the castle by itself, but to make something nice for your dad, too. So, yes, before they had children, they came here often to add more variety to their gardens. Do you want to learn about how flowers are named, so when you get home you can tell your dads everything you know about the flowers you already have there?”

“Yeah!! I know some! But other ones are just… red or… yellow.” Rayen pouted for half a moment.

Ilan laughed lightly. “That’s because their names are too long. You’ll remember them eventually.”

“Long names are hard! There’s, like… twenty million bazillion red ones!!”

Katherine giggled, as well. “That is true. Many flowers that have the same name come in a bunch of different colors. They can have different uses, too, like ones you use for dying wool or ones you can make into tea or medicine. And some have smells that can make you feel different ways, like helping you feel calm or a little more energetic. You can learn about all of that while you’re here, or we can just take walks and look around.”

“Learn, learn!” Rayen demanded. “Maybe calm smells can help when Mariposa is crying! ‘Cause she can’t tell us why she’s crying! But I wanna know what flowers to bring her so she can feel better!”

“That’s so sweet,” Katherine cooed. “All right, we’ll make a list of those, then you can ask your dads to help you pick some and they can set up a flower vase in the room for her. Ilan, is there anything specific you want to learn about?”

“Medicine,” they replied after a few seconds of thought. “And… ones that can be used for magic. I saw in some of Auntie Gem’s books that special flowers are ingredients for spells.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re the budding mage of the family. Yes, I can show you some of those. We can mix up a few potions, too. You both just have to be careful around the glass bottles, all right?”

“Okay!!” the two children agreed.

~*~

Pixandria, Day 3

Liana skipped down the street humming her own little tune while Pixlriffs and Azahar walked at a more casual pace. The Copper King was giving the two children an extensive tour since Pixandria was quite off the beaten path; despite its desert sharing a border with Mythland, the city itself wasn’t exactly within walking distance, and they were unlikely to make visits until they were older – and perhaps on official royal business.

Pix was explaining the usage of the honeycomb farm to the more attentive Azahar when Liana’s gaze followed the path of a stray bee over to the middle of the square. “Ooh, Azahar, look at the pretty lanterns!” She tugged on the side of his shirt and pointed toward a tall but slender structure, where numerous colorful and slowly drifting paper lanterns hovered overhead. She stared up as the three of them walked over for a better view. Then she peered around at the sandstone shelves along the base of the structure. “What’s all those candles for?”

“This is The Vigil,” Pix explained in a gentle tone, knowing he was about to go into a very serious subject with someone who might not yet have a full grasp of the weight of it. “It’s a sacred place where people can either light a candle in memory of a loved one who has passed, or send up a lantern in honor of a wish someone might have wanted to make, but wasn’t able to. The magic in this spot almost seems to slow time, so the candles last longer, and the lanterns sort of get frozen in the air instead of floating away – where they might get lost. The flames for both do burn out at some point, however, and then there can be room for others to be added.”

Liana appeared to be processing everything he had said while gazing up at the lanterns again. Azahar had a thoughtful look, then a small if wistful smile crossed his face and he asked, “May I place some? They’re not for me, personally, though…”

Pix nodded. “You can memorialize whoever you like.” He added softly, “There isn’t a requirement or limit. The Vigil is a means for making peace with loss.”

He led them over to the stall where the various colors of candles and lanterns were stored, with suggested color matches for the regions of the world. Azahar took two cyan candles and two red candles, and then took a black lantern as well. “Hold this one for me. Careful, now.”

He passed the lantern to Liana, then carried the candles over to The Vigil. She and Pix followed; the younger elf cradled the lantern between her hands with utmost care, having come to understand the solemnness of this ceremony, if not quite figuring out what her brother had chosen to do. “Who’s love ones are those for?” she whispered as he set up the candles near to each other on the same shelf.

“For our siblings,” Azahar answered softly. “And this one for our Mythland grandparents,” he explained as he took the lantern from her, “Because Papa said they are missing, but I wish that one day they might get to meet us, and see the happy family we have together.”

Pix stepped in to light the lantern for the teen. “That is a lovely wish, young Prince Azahar.” He held the lantern aloft and gave it a small tap to send it drifting up to join the others.

Liana watched it for a moment, then said, “I dunno where my real mommy and daddy went, so I dunno if I should put candles or not.”

Azahar lightly patted her head. “That’s okay. You and I just happened to be doorstep babies, and it turned out that Papa and Dad needed us to be their family.”

“Liana,” Pix suggested, “Would you like to send a lantern up for your mum and dad? You can wish for them to know that you found a nice family – that might have been what they wanted for you.”

“Hmmmm, okay!” She followed Pix over to the stall, where he took out a cyan lantern for her. “Can I put a bunny on it so’s they know it’s from me?”

“You sure can,” Pix said with a kind laugh. “People sometimes put notes under their candles or tie one to the bottom of the lantern. Let me get you a piece of paper, hold on just a moment.”

Azahar leaned against one of the barrels, letting Pix handle helping Liana with her drawing. He remained there as they returned to The Vigil to send it up.

Pix was reassured by the happy smile now on Liana’s face; he had a feeling she now had a sense of peace of her own regarding her unknown origins. He himself had been gladdened by Azahar’s interpretation of the path their lives had taken that had brought them to become heirs of Mythland. Pix cast a proud look toward the teen. One day, there would be others who oversaw ways to cherish memories.

~*~

Mezalea, Day 3

Lizzie leaned against the wall while Joel leaned against her, both in danger of nodding off even while Mariposa sat crying in the crib. They were at a loss. “How much can one baby cry?” Lizzie lamented.

“Maybe we just have to admit we’re not her favorite auntie and uncle, Joel said with resignation.

“Aww, don’t say that!”

“Well, maybe she misses her dads. She probably recognizes what they look like, and her siblings, too. Neither of us look anything like them.”

Lizzie gazed down at him thoughtfully. “You could try growing a beard?”

“You do know it’s gonna take longer than one day for that, right? Also, Sausage doesn’t have a green stripe in his hair.”

“Darn, good point. My ingenious plan has already been foiled. Any other ideas, then?”

Joel sighed and stood up, glancing to where the latest bottle had been left. He picked up Mariposa to try rocking her a bit to see if it helped any.

Lizzie sighed, too. “I guess we need to call for back up.” She wearily heaved herself from her seat and went to find a piece of paper and quill.

“Dear Xornoth, I have made a terrible mistake…”

 It took until the afternoon for communications to cross all the way to and from Rivendell, but Xornoth arrived soon after his response came via owl, which itself travelled faster than the Mezalean hot air balloon messenger. He gave the weary couple a sympathetic look as he entered the room, then he quickly took over, cradling Mariposa in his arms and talking softly to her while Joel packed up the baby supplies that had ended up scattered around during attempts to get the infant settled down.

Mariposa finally stopped fussing and mumbled instead, at one point reaching up a hand toward Xornoth’s earring. He lightly shook his head to make the jewelry jangle around. Mariposa let out a louder, “Ah-blah!” and when he lowered his head a little to let her touch the earring, she made a grab for his ear itself.

“Told you she recognized them. She knows an elven family member when she sees one,” Joel commented as he closed up the second supply bag.

Xornoth gently pried the little fingers from his ear then set Mariposa back down in the crib. “I mean, I have enough of a resemblance to my brother that she might see it, but I think a little baby noggin might catch on more to familiar colors and shapes that she sees regularly.”

“Still, you kind of worked wonders there. We tried everything, but I guess this is too out of her element. It might even be the difference in the air or different smells, maybe?” Joel’s voice cracked at the end. “Either way, I think we’ll keep the babysitting to a stay in Mythland. She might like that better.”

“Could be anything, who knows. Rivendell is colder than Mythland, after all, and she seemed fine there at the winter festival.” Xornoth shrugged, then went about securing the bags to a line of metal clips on his belt so his arms would be free.

He didn’t have far to fly to his intended destination compared to if he was going all the way to Rivendell. “Well, you two take care. If I remember correctly, you’ve got the boys next. I’m fairly certain they’ll sleep through the night.” He winked then pulled on the baby carrier and got Mariposa settled against his chest before the three of them walked outside.

As he activated his wings, Lizzie leaned to where Mariposa might see her. “Bye-bye, little one. We’ll come visit you at home someday soon, okay? Maybe you’ll like that better.”

Xornoth offered another sympathetic smile, then placed his arms securely around the baby carrier and took off at a moderate speed, not wanting to jar Mariposa too much, but soon she seemed to be giggling about the feeling of the wind ruffling the hair on the top of her head.

 A short time later he landed in Gilded Helianthia. He had made a precursory circle around to see if Pearl was out in the fields, but since he hadn’t spotted her, he figured his best bet was the main farmhouse. He patted Bingo on the head on the way up the stairs, then rapped on the door before calling, “PearlescentMoon, I have a visitor for you~”

A moment or two later the door opened. Pearl glanced from him to the quietly babbling bundle in the baby carrier. “Ah. Yeah, I figured Lizzie was getting in over her head. Are you just dropping by for a little rest stop on the way? Which is actually a good idea. Not sure how the little one would handle a long flight.”

“No, actually…” Xornoth proceeded to grin, “Since all of this was your idea, I thought maybe you could partner up with me for baby duties. I still need to get a little sleep, too.”

“Cheeky elf. All right. I’ll have to rustle up a crib somehow, the plans hadn’t called for her to stay in my empire since it’s closest by and Sausage might come rushing over if he gets too worried.”

“Fair point. It wouldn’t take long to construct a simple one, if you want to hold her for a bit and show me where your wood supplies are. Oh, and we need to send a message to update the worrisome dads that I’ve picked up Mariposa for this round. We don’t need to tell them where I’ve stopped to watch her, though.”

He grinned and chuckled. The owl that had followed him back from Mazelea and was now perched on the corner of the roof hooted, sounding almost like it was used to such shenanigans from the elven monarch.

~*~

Mythland, Day 3

Scott requested the head court violinist to play for them in the dining room during lunch, then toward late afternoon the same violinist and a cellist joined the couple in the ballroom for a casual private dance session.

Sausage smiled softly as he held his upraised palm against Scott’s, his other hand tucked behind his back. “This reminds me a little of the masquerade ball, the one before all the, uh, chaos, and how we had a few dances together where it seemed like there was no one else in the world but us and the music.”

“I remember that one, and that feeling, yeah… I should have noticed the lovestruck look on your face back then, but I was still convinced we were just friends chatting the night away.”

Sausage’s smile turned a little bittersweet, regret almost surfacing in his eyes, then he initiated a turn in time to the instrumental piece’s change. “We should host a masquerade sometime. The kids would have a lot of fun dressing up, and it wouldn’t be as formal as their introduction parties were.”

“That is an excellent idea. Maybe we should let them pick the theme. I can already bet Liana will ask to dress as a bunny.”

“Maybe Seren and Rayen will pick different things and not try to swap accessories.” Sausage then laughed. “But imagine by the end of the night they’ve mixed everything up so much no one knows what their costumes are anymore!”

Scott chuckled at that, then after a moment he sighed. “It’s nice to have a dance to ourselves, but this ballroom feels too empty right now…”

“Time for dinner, then?” Sausage brought his arm forward and lightly wrapped it around Scott’s waist to bring their dance to a halt.

“We might as well.” Scott nodded absently, then they walked over to the musicians to thank them and bid them a good evening.

 There was an owl waiting on the back of Scott’s chair when they reached the dining room. It stretched one wing lazily before hooting at them. Scott carefully took the message from the pouch around its neck. He smiled in amusement as he read it. “Well, that went as expected. Xornoth currently has Mariposa, and will hand her along according to the schedule. Poor Lizzie and Joel. They were even less prepared than we were for an infant.”

“Better change the sign on the crib,” Sausage said with a chuckle. “But I think if there’s ever a plan for this again before she’s toddler age, she’ll just stay with us, and everyone else can have adventures in other empires.”

“You’re forgetting the whole point of this is so we could get a full night’s sleep without a crying baby contributing to keeping us awake.”

“Okay, okay, okay – then next time she goes straight to Xornoth, unless someone proves ahead of time they can handle everything.”

Scott smiled warmly at him. “You’ve really got this overprotective father thing down pat.”

“Well, of course! We’ve been at this for over four years, and since the family keeps growing, I want to be sure all of them are as safe as possible and we know exactly where they are at all times!”

Scott’s expression now turned wry. “You know, I’m not sure either of us are really going to be getting as much sleep as Pearl hoped, because you’re absolutely right.”

~*~

Gilded Helianthia, Day 4

Pearl woke up to the sound of elven song coming from the guest room where they had set up the makeshift crib and Xornoth was using one of the beds when he was ‘off shift’. It seemed close to sunrise, just about when she would be getting up, anyway. She could remember being awoken by Mariposa maybe three times during the night, although on the third incident Xornoth was already reaching into the crib. He had stopped to tap a finger to his lips then shooed Pearl away.

Currently he sang a lively tune while lifting her up in the air several times to make her giggle. He did look tired, though, and Pearl was ready to take over watching Mariposa so he could get some more sleep – as soon as he happened to put her down.

“You’re really loving this role of being uncle, aren’t you?”

 Xornoth chuckled quietly. “A little bit. I haven’t quite found that special someone yet, so I’m living vicariously through my brother’s children – although I don’t know if I want that many of my own. But if a little one like this happened to find their way to me, well, I doubt I could say no, either.”

He held Mariposa toward his face to tickle her with his nose, then kissed her on the cheek. She babbled and patted at him, nearly poking him in the eye, but he merely closed that eye and lowered her out of range where she could grab at the folds of his shirt instead.  He smiled softly down at her. “Well, someday, maybe. My brother waited over two hundred years and then some to figure out the right one, so I suppose I could wait a few more…”

He seemed to space out for a moment, his smile fading to a pensive expression, so Pearl stepped closer to take the baby from him. “I think what you shouldn’t wait for is some sleep. I’ll handle the morning shift, and we’ll keep it quiet as we do the morning chores – right, Mariposa? You can learn all about running a farm! Or maybe you can just learn to gently pet the sheep and cows because you could fit inside the milk bucket, but forget about carrying it. Come on, little one. Your Uncle Xornoth needs sleep just like your dad and papa. My goodness, you are causing all sorts of trouble all over the place, aren’t you? So much mischief in such a tiny body.”

Xornoth smiled after them with his own weariness while Mariposa babbled a “blee-blee-blee” sound then cooed. Well, at least she was getting along with Pearl for the moment. He heeded the advice, however, and laid down with his arms folded behind his head, letting his mind wander to days of the past when he and Scott had been children. He dozed off to the memory of the first time they had encountered sheep together.

 [To Be Continued in Part Two]