She told herself it was butterflies. It was natural for a bride to be nervous. She felt like her heart was about to leap out of her chest as she approached the mirror.

Mak’arune didn’t like this dress, but her intended did. She thought it made her pale skin look sallow, and it showed far too much flesh. It was bedecked with too much lace and embroidery, and she was certain that the sigils on her corset meant something… icky…

But he was a good businessman, and he said she was a lady of inherent quality. It was only natural that a gentleman of good fortune and standing would be in want of a wife… and yet…

She’d left something behind…

There was something she was forgetting. Something she was sure she’d left undone. It was why he’d hired seven maidens to see to everything. To reassure her.

She’d heard rumours about his former brides…

Shoes. Stockings. Underpinnings. Overpinnings. The dress, of course, the dress.

It made her feel nauseated to look at it…

The maidens adjusted the flowers and one of them coached her in her breathing and two stood ready by her elbows in case her knees turned to jelly or she felt faint.

It’s natural. It’s only nerves. It’s perfectly–

It isn’t perfect! It isn’t natural! Something’s wrong! RUN!

Tears pricked her eyes and her breath wouldn’t slow down and her whole body shook as they opened up the door and she wanted to get away from here so badly but she promised. She promised, and she always kept her promises.

Mak couldn’t remember the event, but he said she promised, and the maidens agreed, and she’d been so scatterbrained of late, she’d forget her own hea–

None of her friends were here! They were invited, she’d made sure!

He looked resplendent in his suit. Brocade vest the colour of dried blood. Suitcoat and pants darker than a tomb. His shirt was as pale as a shroud and he–

–looked worse than a corpse come for dinner…

–he was smiling at the sight of her. Matching her pace as tradition decreed, surrounded by seven groomsmen who leaked dark ichor matched his measured pace as his Honour Guard.

Something… was very wrong! …happened…

The violinist in the atrium changed pace to something lively and definitely not chamber music.

Dah dum datumtum daddledumdum daddle-diddle-daddle-daddle dah-dum…

The stained glass of the temple burst inwards but it sounded like splintering wood and figures burst in from all directions and someone yelled, “Dispell magic!”

The groom before her was dressed in the same clothes, but he was barely humanoid. A beast’s skull barely wrapped in dripping flesh opened a maw full of too many teeth and roared.

The twins pulled her away from the animated corpses, Lulu still holding the violin she had used to give the signal, Koko firing Magic Missiles behind him.

“Is that La’ming swinging on a rope?” Mak’arune wondered.

“Yeah, the whole gang’s here,” said Lulu. She’d stowed her violin and had a small knife that she was using on the strings of the corset. “Gotta get this dress off you before it drains your life, babe.”

Koko had something large and voluminous. “I got mom’s muumuu for a replacement. Guaranteed unspelled.”

The corset had horrible runes on it. Vile, dark magic. So did the stitching on her dress. So did her exposed skin. She wasn’t a bride. She was a sacrifice.

Fortunately, the rest of the circus was making short work of that fiend. Good for them. Now that the spell was broken and her mind was clear, now that she was scrubbing her body clean with her own spit and tears, there was one thing she had to do.

She stepped back into the sepulchre that she had once thought was a church, raised her hand at the fiend and said, “Abra-ca-fuck you!” and cast Sacred Flame at him.

Now she was free to collapse in a gibbering heap.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]

[AN: Wishing you well in your battle with the panics. May your happies at least quiet the little beasties down]

Angus McDonald, age six and a half, woke before the alarm was about to go off and, just in time, reached out to silence its musical chime. Papa hadn’t even entertained getting him a mechanical alarm with its harsh and frightening bell. That sort of thing brought back too many bad memories and Papa understood.

That was one of the reasons why he was doing this. One amongst very many.

Glasses on (he had the freedom of vision whenever he wanted it) slippers on his feet and bathrobe over his pyjamas (no more cold floors leaching heat and sensation from his toes) and gathered his clothes for the day (he had a choice, no more grey, thinning clothing that did nothing against either the chill or the heat) and padded off to the bathroom to wash. No more rough treatment from Nurse Stronginthearm. No more tepid water that smelled of carbolic and pee. No more harsh scrubbing sponges. He could take his pick of soaps and washing instruments, he could linger and luxuriate in bathing if he wanted to. But he chose to be quick and efficient, this morning.

This morning was parents’ day.

Washed, dressed, and the bathroom tidied up, he crept down to the kitchen and started gathering tools an ingredients. Two cookbooks, one scroll copied from Fantasy Youtube, and some of his own notes.

He was going to make his parents some lava cakes for parents day.

Angus had to melt the chocolate in a double boiler since Papa wouldn’t touch a Fantasy Microwave with a Barge Pole of Reaching. That was okay. He knew how to do that. Even for two batches of ganache. One hazelnut praline for Papa, and the other dark chocolate blood orange for Dad

Once they were ready, he poured them into the ice cube containers and popped them into the freezer. While they were cooling, he washed up and got the cake moulds and batter ready.

That was from one of Papa’s best cake recipes. The Choc-o-licious cake. Working on that batter took all the time he needed to have for the ganache to freeze.

Problem. The Fantasy Youtube video hadn’t told him about greasing the ice cubes tray. It took some serious twisting and at least one count of taking a cube out of the tray in small fragments.

Papa always said to use the happy accidents. Therefore, he stirred the little frozen chips into the batter and hoped for the best. One Choc-o-licious with the hazelnut ganache. The other with the dark chocolate blood orange. All set carefully into the right place in the Aga for cakes.

So far, so good. Sort of.

Angus cleaned up and peeked into his parents’ cote. They were still snuggled under the covers. The dawn light had yet to creep into Papa’s eyes and force him into consciousness.

It was so tempting to just crawl in there for a small nap, but he had cakes in the oven. Therefore, he went back to the kitchen with one of his favourite Caleb Cleveland books, and nearly burned them.

Which was why he wasn’t thinking when he smelled burning. He ran to the oven and pulled the tray out without first putting on an oven mit. It burned! It fell. Hot cake mess spattered all over the place and then Papa blinked into the area.

He stepped on the hot tray and in boiling-hot lava cake to scoop him up and then hurried him to the nearest bathroom. Cool water soothed Angus’ hurts and a minor potion of healing solved all the injuries.

Angus was still crying. “Your feet. I hurt your feet.”

“I’m the one who stepped in the hot stuff, bubeleh.” He finally ran his own feet under the cool water and downed a potion of his own. “See? All better.” Papa scooped him into his arms and purred. Soft and gentle and reassuring.

Angus still felt bad about the cakes. “I wan’ed to surprise you with a cake each an’ I was makin’ you some special lava cakes and I almost burned them and I didn’t mean to hurt myself an’ I’m so sorry…”

Papa rocked him. “Hey. Hey, little man. Hey. Hey, listen. It’s okay. We all make mistakes. It’s fine.”

“It’s parent’s day,” Angus sniffled. “Wan’ed t’ do somethin’ special.”

“Hey,” said Dad, who came in to see what the fuss was about. “You know what’s more special than cakes in bed?”

Sniff. “What?”

“Cakes made together.”

Once all hurts were healed and the damage undone via Prestidigitation practice, Taako surveyed Angus’ plan. “Not some bad invention, there, little dude. Good job putting it all together like that.”

Angus started smiling again. “Really?”

“Yeah, you did some good detective work there.” Papa gave him a hug and a kiss. “Want to learn the best way to do a ganache?”

Cooking together with Papa and Dad was the best. Papa knew every trick about cooking good food and showed them to anyone willing to learn. Dad and Ango grouped together as apprentices.

They learned a lot that morning. Including that ganache lava was best with ice cream.

“Thanks for being my parents,” he said.

“Thanks for being our kid,” said Dad.

“Without you, we’d have no special occasion to have cake for,” added Papa.

After that, the best part of the day - snuggling with his parents for a lazy day in. All cuddles and kisses and comfort.

[TAAZ Prompts Remaining: 9]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]

Phaan had put it together with the Story and Song, and all the other things the voidfish had made public, and things he’d found, heard, and otherwise dug up through diligent and noisome work in several middens.

It all came out in a headline that dominated the page:

KRAAGNUS?

There was a Fantasy Picture of the three of them together, sharing bottles of some unspecified drink. Taako remembered the day well. They had been renovating the old Sellsnow farmhouse and were taking a break for refreshments.

The article within was the usual thrilling tabloid trash about sordid affairs or perhaps a trio tryst. The copy editor always ‘punched up’ Phaan’s work to make it sell better. Phaan was learning, of course he was, and every time he wrote some copy, he got a little bit better at phrasing it the way the editors liked it.

This one was the closest he had got to getting it right.

A low growl at the Fantasy Newsstand got his attention. Oh holy shit. That was none other than Taako from Tre Llew-Ddion. Up close and personal and pissed off.

Phaan couldn’t believe his good luck. He did his best to appear innocent despite being a rose-coloured Tiefling with bright pink hair. “Something the matter?”

“These stupid tabloids get everything wrong,” he said, waving a one that had repeated headline of BABY BUMP? and several red circles in the lower abdomens of every woman in the BOB, including Lup, who was still in her lichy form, waiting for her body.

“Wow. Whoever wrote that lot failed basic biology.”

Taako showed one off of Krav with the same rude red circle. “Tell me about it. I mean, I can tolerate some of this crap but this is just bad manners. Digging around in middens, spreading lies. If I had my druthers with any one of these cockroaches…”

“People have to eat,” argued Phaan. “I think you said that sometimes you gotta make what you love pay the rent.”

Those mismatched eyes bored into him. “You’re somehow involved in the business…”

Phaan shivered. He knew without a doubt that Taako had a pretty high perception score and could likely see right through him. He showed the KRAAGNUS story. “Stories like this are the only way I get to pay the rent and eat.”

“There’s more than one way to do that, homie,” said Taako, true guardian of the lost and hopeless.

The arrays of tabloid trash were unstoppable. The only difference Taako’s change made was that the quality was much lower and far less truthful. They were flocking to a new, far more honest paper.

Most of it was written by Phaan, and he called it The Bird’s Coop. It promised all the best and most honest news about the Seven Birds and those who worked around them. It was far more polite about everyone’s tummies, too. The sales told the whole story, and Phaan told the rest.

He might have been editor in chief, but he always told the world that he was Taako’s publicity agent.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]

[AN: Big thanks to @dualityandsuch for getting me into the Hamilton Soundtrack which has heavily inspired parts of this effort. Also, my mind has been everywhere today, so apologies if this turns up tomorrow. I got a weird day]

The first La’ming knew about Mak’arune having a Luume episode was what she initially thought of as her babies horsing around. They were apparently playing a variant of tag with someone else in the circus camp.

They swung around her caravan to where she was busy with the laundry and cheered, “YES!” One ducked back to wave and chirp, “Yoo-hoo! Here we are! This way!” Then the other dragged the first away and up to their favourite hiding spot on the roof of the caravan.

La’ming had enough time to say, “What are you two–” before she got a far more distracting interruption.

“Babies… come ba-a-ack…” Mak’arune rounded the caravan and met eyes with La’ming. “Preeeeeettyyyyyyyy…”

La’ming knew the symptoms instantly. Flushed face. Dilated pupils. An easy, slightly drunken smile and a marginally unsteady gait. That, and Mak’arune smelled very, very nice.

Slightly worrying was the fact that she was wearing a very flattering red dress that normal-Mak’arune didn’t feel bold enough to wear. It showed off all her best aspects and put more colour into her Moon Elf pallor.

Gods, show me how to say no to this…

The on-again, off-again Thing between her and Mak’arune was so well known that it inspired multiple attempts to get the two to admit it, several thousand camp jokes, and at least one raunchy song with the refrain, “Waiting for the day…” Mak’arune deep in Luume might prove too much for her tentative willpower.

I don’t know how to say no to this…

Her eyes were deep and dark and La’ming could get lost in them if she wanted to and she smelled of crisp linens and a cool, fresh stream and that rosin she always used when she threaded her needles and…

Oh gods, I feel so helpless…

“Want,” cooed Mak’arune. “Want you so much. You’re so pretty. Wanna touch. Wanna hug. Wanna make feel nice…”

So very tempting. La’ming forgot about the laundry. Forgot about the twins whispering with each other on the rooftop. Forgot that she was soaking wet and wearing the ugliest dress in the world. Forgot, entirely, that she wanted their eventual meeting to be something magical.

How can I say no to this?

Her lips were sweet, soft, and warm. Bliss and balm and comfortable - so comfortable. The soft swell of her purr kicked up as La’ming purred back and for a moment - just a moment - she nearly dove into temptation.

Then she reached up and found the pressure points that told Mak’arune’s drives to go away, that now was not the time, and an inconvenience at best.

She spasmed like she’d been hit with a bucket of cold water, then fell limp into La’ming’s arms.

“Okay, you two little shits. You’re setting up the big hammock and then we’re all minding her.”

The twins, previously anticipating some fucking closure, grumbled about it.

“Or I tell Mak’arune how you set this up so she can lecture you about it.”

Now they hurried to comply.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]

[AN: We got into a discussion about La’ming and Garfield and then this happened]

[That Sexy Garfield Cosplayer has a lot to answer for]

It was the largest building in the world. The shocking part was that it was a business-place for one business. Inside was a huge warehouse that held wonders from all around the world. It promised discounts, bargains, and dreams come true if one read the marquee.

The inside seemed to be dimensionally transcendent. People from all walks of life could just come in and buy entire crate-loads of whatever they wanted.

The circus fucking loved it.

Koko couldn’t believe it. They had all kinds of magical shit just lying around in baskets, tubs, and bins, as well as sitting around on the shelves.

“I’m gonna steal one of every-fucking-thing in here,” he whispered.

“I WOULDN’T TRY THAT, SWEETHEART. THE ANTI-THEFT CURSES ARE TERRIBLE!”

The twins jumped and shrieked. Floating just behind them was the terrifying figure of a large-ish ginger Tabaxi in a moon-and-star-patterned robe. He had a nametag that introduced him to the literate as Garfield.

La’ming, still biologically compelled to care for their welfare, wrapped one up in each arm and issued a warning growl at him.

“JUST A FRIENDLY WARNING, MADAM. THE AISLES OF THE FANTASY COSTCO ARE RIDDLED WITH THEIR OWN KIND OF PERIL. WE HAVE STRICT ANTI-SHOPLIFTING WARDS AND ANY UNATTENDED CHILDREN WILL BE EMPLOYED.” After a moment’s thought, the Tabaxi added. “FOR ANY FURTHER ENQUIRIES, I SHALL BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL. HAVE A GOOD DAY.”

They hustled away from the Tabaxi, feeling like they had just escaped an eldritch horror. La’ming quickly distracted the twins with the variety of choice available to anyone with the money or the vouchers. This place had _everything_. Bags of Holding in assorted colours. Pocket tents, pocket workshops, pocket laboratories. Portable holes, portable doors, portable underground connections…

Koko fell in love with the pocket spa. Based on the same principal as the pocket tent, this one promised all one’s relaxation needs including refreshments and a golem for massages. It boasted the ability to hold and sustain two medium-sized creatures when compact and up to six when unfurled.

His for only… way more than he could afford. Ever. In his life. Even if he went straight and kept the bail fund overflowing… he’d never have one.

Koko contemplated ways he could scratch it or dirty it up so he’d get a discount without breaking it completely.

“FIND SOMETHING YOU LIKE, SWEETIE?”

“Could you not do that?”

“I ONLY KNOW ONE WAY TO APPEAR, HANDSOME. PERHAPS YOU’D LIKE TO MAKE A DEEEEEEEEAAAALLLLL…”

It was the way he was salivating on the word ‘deal’ that almost scared Koko’s pants brown. “You win the intimidation check hombre. Truth is, I ain’t got the money for this and probs never will. So unless there’s someone I could fuck for this…”

“FRATERNISING WITH THE CUSTOMERS VIOLATES COMPANY RULES, GORGEOUS.”

Oh thank the gods. “Maybe we could play a game,” he looked around. “What’s that green table for?”

“THAT’S A POOL TABLE, SON. HAVEN’T YOU EVER PLAYED POOL BEFORE?”

“No,” Koko lied. “Maybe you could show me how to play and then best out of five wins?”

He was drooling again. “AND WHAT DO I WIN WHEN YOU LOOSE, HMMMM?”

“You can gimme a haircut and keep the hair.” Roughly equivalent worth, really, and harmless enough to not cause much trouble down the line.”

*
Two hours later, Koko caught up with his family. He had the pocket spa, Garfield’s Shoes of Floatation, and the nifty dollar-sign pendant he’d been wearing.

“Where were you?” said La’ming, who had found the costumes section. “I was starting to worry.”

Translation: She was worried and working on her last nerve trying not to outright panic.

“Playin’ some pool with the big cat,” said Koko. “Got some neat stuff.”

La’ming, wearing a really cheap imitation of Garfield’s robe over her clothes, squealed in delight and borrowed the pendant. She put on some tiger-print platforms, a pair of kitty mittens and a humorous cat mask as well. “HoW dO i LoOk, DaRlInG?” she said, mocking Garfield’s voice. “Is It WoRtH a DeEeEeEaAaAlLlL?”

She was hilarious.

Garfield was not impressed. Especially when Lulu attempted to hustle him at pool for the outfit.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]

[Be sure to visit internutter (dot) org for details on how to support this artist]

Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 18 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter, Krav and Agatha bond.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 7]

Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 17 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: Taako talks Krav out of a vivid nightmare.

Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 16 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: Taako and Lup meet some old friends from before the Stolen Century. Sort of.

Love, they say, is strange. It certainly isn’t logical, and the road to the best and longest-lasting loves is long, winding, and full of potholes. Lulu and Koko were pondering this as they shared a pipe, well out of anyone’s view.

“We know they’re in love,” said Koko, circling the distant figures of La’ming, their mother figure by Luume-adoption, and Mak’arune, famously repressed costume nerd. They were currently in the centre of the circus campground, standing five feet apart so that no-one would ‘accidentally’ bump them into each other. “Everyone in the circus knows they’re in love. Hell, even Borstok clued into it.” Puff. “So why don’t they?”

Lulu took the pipe out of his fingers and inhaled deeply. She blew the dandelion smoke out of her nostrils. “It’s been like a decade or something. I wanna be a flower girl at their wedding, not an Honour Guard.”

Koko was smiling. “Lulu? I have had a genius idea.”

“More genius than locking them in a trailer together for the night? Or sending one of them to fetch the other while they were skinny-dipping? Or pretending the seasonal sniffles was a curse that could only be cured by true loves’ kiss?”

“It was better than getting them drunk and hoping for the best,” sniped Koko. “Or sliding rings on their fingers when they passed out and lying our asses off about them being married already. Or trying to get Mak’arune to keep La’ming warm after ‘someone’ misfired a frost curse on Mom’s mermaid tank.”

Koko took the pipe back and inhaled a measured half of the dried weeds left in the tiny pipe bowl. He let his smoke out through the gap in his teeth. “Sure. Fine. We’ve both had our fuckups. But listen. We’re close to Thanerdon.”

“That moralistic ass pit that made everyone rent rooms so that there’d be no shenanigans? They never had enough rooms for all of us and everyone had to pair– Ooooohhhh…”

Koko let her have the last of their pipe. “Everyone had to pair up. They made us do a blood test to prove we were sibs and everything. And they’re relentlessly heteronormative. Which means they put the boys with the boys…”

Lulu drew a heart around their prospective parentals with the stem of their pipe. “And the girls with the girls. Now all we gotta do is scam Monty Junior into going to Thanerdon.”

*

The plan was on. The entire circus was in on it. Well. The entire circus except for Mak’arune and La’ming, both oblivious as hell. Everyone who was a part of the circus suddenly became exemplary citizens of high moral standing, and all paraphernalia of naughtiness was well concealed.

So well concealed that some of them wouldn’t find it until next spring, but they all agreed that it would be worth it if those two finally admitted something about each other and their feelings.

Montgomery Jr, as well as five other crew members, kept the proposed roommates occupied for a majority of the day. Montgomery had Mak’arune securing paperwork, and other circus crew had La’ming run off her feet with errands, often to the other side of Thanerdon.

The twins secured their own room early. A modest twin (ha!) with single bunks that they would have to muss up half of because their own nighttime peace of mind included being able to reach out in their slumber and find their sibling. On the rare occasion that they felt safe enough to meditate, they did so back-to back and wands in hand.

Thus, the two lovers-in-waiting found themselves with just one bedroom with one bed to sharem, and the individual of their affections being dragged into the room by one of the twins.

“Its this or jail, Mom,” Lulu said, shoving her adoptive parent by her shoulders. “And we already spent the bail fund on the rooms, so… It’s not really a choice.”

Koko, meanwhile, grunted as he shoved Mak’arune closer to his adoptive parent. “They say… nothing naughty can happen. It’s just for the week. We… meditate… anyway… (Oof) So… what’s… the big… deal?”

It was clear that inertia and abject mortification had produced a pretty darn effective repulsion shield that kept La’ming and Mak’arune three feet apart and burning bright with embarrassment. The twins checked each other across the seemingly impassable gulf.

Koko made the universal gesture for, What now?

Lulu made the universal gesture for, I don’t fuckin’ know…

Koko attempted being glib. “Well you two already know each other, so I guess it’s arm wrasslin’ to see who gets the side nearest the privy or something.”

Lulu, too, tried to lighten the mood. “Mom snores when she lies on her back so you might have to jab her in the ribs real hard if that happens.”

They both apparently rolled ones. Silence stretched as the ruddy tides of mortification rose to conquer two Elf faces. Koko side-stepped towards the door. Lulu followed suit.

“We’ll… uh… we’ll leave you two to it.”

“Don’t do anything we haven’t done,” chirped Lulu.

Five seconds out in the hall, after they shut the door, they switched to Us.

“What the fuck was that? ‘Don’t do anything we haven’t done’? What the fuck, Lulu?”

“I couldn’t help it. I panicked. It was meant to be a joke.”

“Nobody’s laughing, sis…”

“I fucking noticed.”

Koko’s ear twitched. They were talking. Well. Saying stuff in the vicinity of each other. “Shuddup, they might be working something out.”

Both twins put an ear to the door.

*

Mak’arune had gone past vermillion and was heading towards maroon because she also hardly dared breathe. Silence stretched like a prisoner on the rack. She coughed delicately to remind herself that air existed and she was free to partake.

“So,” said La’ming.

“Yeah,” allowed Mak’arune.

“I’m sorry about those kids,” she allowed. “I think they think we’d be cute together or something.”

“Yeah.” Her brain caught up with her mouth, and then raced off with it. “I mean no. I mean… we could, I suppose, but there’s complications. I mean. You’re a perfectly nice person and everything. Of course you are. I think you’re doing a wonderful job with those two scamps. It’s just… I always thought…”

La’ming rescued her with, “We can take turns meditating on the bed. It’s only four hours each.”

Outside the door, Koko shouted, “DAMNIT!”

Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ - Chapter 14 - InterNutter - The Adventure Zone (Podcast) [Archive of Our Own]

In this chapter: A reformed Jason teaches his father how to be a decent human being.