Yes, you heard that right! It's a continuation of my very first shipfic, which wound up being posted in 2017. This is the continuation, which seems to have been started in 2018, and has now expanded interestingly. (For historical context: Maedhros was originally Delta Juliette in this. She hasn't opted in this year, as of when I checked a few seconds ago, so I've left out her name this time.) And yes, you can absolutely blame hS for the sequel :P

*

It was a strange time in Middle-earth.

The beautiful half-Elf, half-Maia Tinuvion, otherwise Phobos by name, had come to steal a Silmaril from the crown which the Dread Kaitlyn had taken with her in her flight to the North.

The human Neshomeh, Phobos’ beloved, had previously escaped the Dread Kaitlin's dungeons with her life, if not her hand or the companion she had arrived there with.

Huinesoron, elven Lord of Netilardo, was​ dead. This was sad news for Neshomeh, who had called him from Netilardo in the first place. It was also sad news for the inhabitants of Netilardo, who began to chafe under the rule of the two of a certain well-formed Elf’s siblings, who had earlier turned their minds from Huinesoron.

It was wonderful news for the Dread Kaitlyn: after all, she had stolen Huinesoron away with her to the North, and was more than pleased to discover that there would, in fact, be no one attempting his rescue.

*

“Someone will come for me eventually,” Huinesoron said mildly. His hands were bound in front of him; of course, the Dread Kaitlyn's choice of binding had been a silk scarf, which might have influenced his state of mind. “You won’t be able to keep me here forever.”

“Forever and a day,” said the Dread Kaitlyn. The not-so-keen observer might have spotted a note of glee in her voice. The keener observer might have realized that it was far more than a note. “You see, I’ve had word. They think you dead.”

“I’m not dead, though,” Huinesoron said after a moment. He shifted, stretching his legs out on the...well, it couldn’t really be called anything other than a bed. Maybe a couch, if one had never seen a couch before. It had sheets and was actually fairly soft. “Someone will figure it out eventually.”

The Dread Kaitlyn leaned towards him, bending one knee upon the bed. “Not for a very, very long time. If ever. No, Huinesoron—you are mine.”

“Am I?”

The Dread Kaitlyn waved a hand. Her pointed look took in his bonds, and the general fact that she was the one in a position to look down at him.

“Hm,” said Huinesoron. “I suppose you have something of a point.”

“I am going to keep you here until the Last Age of Arda comes to an end,” the Dread Kaitlyn told him. The gleeful note grew stronger once more. “No one shall steal you from me even then.”

“I should think we might come to desire a change of scenery, in all that time,” the Elf pointed out. “Another room, perhaps, or a field…”

As if in answer, the room began to rumble.

The Dread Kaitlyn looked over her shoulder; Huinesoron glanced around, frowning.

“What—?”

The rumble paused, only to return, louder than before.

“What is this?” Huinesoron called, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard.

“I do not—aah!”

The floor shifted and buckled, sending the Dread Kaitlyn stumbling. Huinesoron pitched forward, cursing the scarf that bound his hands; the Dread Kaitlyn’s flailing hand found and latched onto his ankle. Together, they pulled her up.

“We ought to—” Huinesoron began, and the room...

...vanished.

*

When the blinding light faded, and their vision cleared, a new room came into view. It was small, with dingy white walls and a single window, through which could be seen—

Well, very little, really, considering it was night and there seemed to be a wall some small distance away.

“Where are we?” Huinesoron asked. His bright eyes examined their new location, and found much for the Elf to puzzle over. “What manner of place is this?”

The Dread Kaitlyn raised herself into a sitting position and frowned at the room. “I...have no idea.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Was it you who brought us here?”

Huinesoron laughed in her face. “I do not have that power. Was it you who brought us here?”

“It was not,” said the Dread Kaitlyn. Carefully, she tested the floor and then got off the bed. Soon after, she glanced over her shoulder, mischief glinting in her eyes. “There appears to be a door. Perhaps I should open it.”

Huinesoron raised his eyebrows. “If this is a new torment, it seems an ineffective one.”

The Dread Kaitlyn appeared to be keeping herself from rolling her eyes; then, she turned the plain metal knob and opened the painted door.

Beyond was a larger room, sporting some furniture and a mortal woman seated at a plain wooden table with her back to them. At the sound of the Dread Kaitlyn taking a step forward, she turned; the Dread Kaitlyn stiffened in place.

“Oh, hey, nice costume,” Neshomeh said, with every appearance of friendliness. “It’s a little early, though, isn’t it?”

“Early?” the Dread Kaitlyn repeated.

“Mm,” said Neshomeh. She turned further, revealing the presence of her second hand, wrapped around a spoon. Huinesoron leaned precariously to one side to stare. “Halloween isn’t for another few months. Still, it’s nice to iron out the details...early…” Her eyes caught on Huinesoron—or, more accurately, on Huinesoron’s hands. “Uh.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, if you two want to...be alone, I’m actually planning to go out soon—I could speed it up—?”

Huinesoron was trying very hard to come up with a response that did not simply point out the return of Neshomeh’s second hand (!) when another door opened.

-- A/N: This twist courtesy of roundabout inspiration from the "Elves don't get sick" exchange below. Onward to silliness! Or drama. One or the other. We shall see (hopefully sooner than 2022)!

Iximaz knew her day was off to a smashing start when she awoke in the body of a seal.

The seal was a very nice seal. Small and white, a harp seal pup, with a soft white coat and bright black eyes that shone in the light of her room. She was a lovely seal. The problem was that she preferred being a lovely human.

"Don't come crying to me," said Neshomeh, "it's your own fault."

Ix looked around, and then down, and saw that whatever had happened to her had affected Nesh in the same way. Well, sort of. The oldbie had been transmogrified into a mammoth, as befitted her standing in the community; she was covered head to foot in soft brown fur, and even her tusks looked soft and squishy rather than hardened ivory stabbing devices.

"Nesh," Ix said slowly, "why are you a plushie?"

"You're a fine one to talk," piped up FourMoonsWatching, who was presently One Cat Snarking. Specifically, one soft grey cat, with gangly limbs and a happy, friendly face. She was also clearly a stuffed toy, though in defiance of accepted talking-stuffed-cat tradition she wasn't white with pink stripes or even all that sleepy. "You're probably the cuddliest plushie here."

"Moons, it's your fault we're like this at all. You started drinking ouzo, which I didn't even know was a thing you did, and then you did... something... there was a ritual, something about sacrifice, a big ring of... yarn, for some reason? And then I woke up like this. A Pangolyn"

Ix shuffle-hopped on her seal tummy to where the new voice was coming from. It was Kaitlyn. Well, Pangolyn. She was indeed a pangolin plush, with soft ruffles of fluffy stuff to represent the scales and a tummy made of corduroy for some as-yet unknown reason.

"Wait, we're all stuffies?" Ix cried. "I can't be a stuffie! I've got my own! Who'll cuddle them?"

"We all will," said Nesh gently, resting her trunk across Ix's back. "We all will."

And when they cuddled, Moons and Kaitlyn joining in, Ix felt safe and warm and snug, like everything was going to be okay.

---

Iximaz the Seal

Neshomeh the Mammoth

Moons the Cat

Kaitlyn the Pangolin

There was a knock on the door to Ix's flat.

"Mm?" they mumbled from bed.

There were a few more knocks.

"Open," was all Ix could manage, being quite sick and out of energy. Whoever was knocking let themselves in and then opened a few interior doors, trying to find something. Meanwhile, Ix sat up so maybe it'd be slightly easier to get out of bed if they absolutely had to.

Soon, the mysterious visitor opened the door to Ix's room. It was ... Remus Lupin!

Wait, no, sorry, wrong shipfic. Let's try that again.

It was ... hS! He was carrying a rather large pot.

"Heard you weren't feeling well, Ix," the tall, fair elf said. "I brought soup."

Ix coughed a few times. "Y'know you're gonna get sick, right?" they asked.

"I'm an elf," hS said. "We don't get sick. So I brought soup."

"Thanks," Ix said, as brightly as they could manage. "This'll help."

"And that's why I brought it over."

"Do me a favor?" Ix asked.

"Sure."

"Can you get me a bowl from the kitchen? Getting up's hard."

"No problem." Huinesoron set the soup down and went out into the kitchen. A bunch of searching through cabinets later, he found a bowl and spoon and brought them back to Ix. He then poured some soup and carefully handed it to Ix.

"This is real good," Ix said, after they'd had some mildly miraculous elven cooking[1]. "You're a good friend, hS."

"You too, Ix," hS said. "Hope you get better soon."

[1] The narrator would like to specifically note that Gandalf was kept well away from this soup

Voyd was flying through a generic, undescribed forest, because he was a mothboi and that’s what mothbois do.

It so happened that he stumbled (metaphorically, of course) upon someone wandering through the forest.

“Hello!” Voyd said cheerily as he landed, then squeaked and had to restrain himself from glomping them. “Astolfo!*”

“Oh, hi!” Astolfo said, just as cheerful as Voyd and not at all put out by the admittedly adorable squeak. “Say, do you know how’ta get outta here?”

Voyd reigned in his urge to hug and cuddle and [explicit content redacted, because this is a wholesome minecraft server]. “Uhm, no, but if you walk long enough it might let you out?”

“Aw maaaan,” Astolfo groaned, sagging a bit before perking up. “Hey, can you walk with me?”

“YES!”

“Yay!”

And so they started walking.

“Say…” Astolfo said, looking like he had something illicit on mind. “How good are your hugs?”

“Soft and warm,” Voyd said immediately, miming a hug with his arms as his wings flapped gently.

Then he nearly got bowled over by Astolfo glomping him. Thankfully, Astlfo was in mundane clothes.

“You’re right!” Astolfo exclaimed.

Voyd did not restrain his squeed of cuteness overload, and wrapped Astolfo in all four of his mothfuzz covered arms.

Astolo grinned mischievously, standing up on his tip-toes and licking Voyd’s neck sexily.

Voyd gasped, some other body part rhyming with ‘stick’ rising as his eyes widened. Carefully, he ducked down and pressed a chaste kiss against Astolfo’s lips. Astolfo nipped at his bottom lip and explored Voyd’s pink cavern, which devolved into a contest of tongues battling for dominance.

When they surfaced for air Astolfo slipped his hands under Voyd’s shirt, caressing his smooth flesh. A seductive smirk sat on his lips.

Voyd gasped again, then grinned as well and got to work. Four arms was four times the pleasure, after all.

Astolfo ran a hand up Voyd’s back to the base of his wings. Even as he moaned, one of Voyd’s hands went down Altolfo’s skirt and he was making delightful sounds of pleasure as well.

Astolfo pushed Voyd against a tree, and from there clothing was discarded at a very quick rate.

---

A/N: You asked for it, Voyd :3. (This is terrible I'm so sorry)

Well, I actually wrote it! Sorry that I’m fairly late, I had some tests to revise for.

Thanks a lot MOE

Anyway, I made this one “unique”, and I hope that everyone can get a laugh or two from this piece of writing. I will also bet this question mark shaped piece of pie that this will be the only Shipfest story involving me.

~SomeRandomPersonAccount

"So," Hel said, sliding over to Ix, "I heard you were setting up as head PPC twink."

"Duh," Ix replied, "it's in my username in chat and everything."

"Well I think I can out-twink you," Hel said, "and I should have your spot."

Ix looked at Hel more carefully, admiring their rather cute face. "I can see why you'd think that, Hel. You're wrong, but I can see it."

"I can definitely tell why you think you should be the chief twink too, Ix, but I definitely deserve it." Hel replied, meeting Ix's gaze.

"So, let's fight for it, I guess? This is a pretty close call."

"Sword fight?" Hel suggested.

"First, oh my, and second, no, you'd kick my ass. Take some selfies, put it up to a vote?"

"Ix, you're a cinematography major, you'd win that easily." They paused for a bit, trying to think of a good contest while also admiring the view.

Ix was also switching between trying to think of a way to resolve this conflict and gazing longingly at Hel. Then, they had an idea. "So," they said.

"Yeah?"

"You know that thing that always happens in badfic? Tongues battling for dominance?"

"Yeah ..."

"We could do that."

"So, have a smooch-off to figure out who's twinkier," Helsinki said. "I mean, you're pretty good-looking, and I've been thinking that'd be nice for a while now, but I didn't want to say it ..."

"Honestly, same," Ix said. "It's as good an excuse as any. Even though it feels a bit contrived."

Hel shrugged. "Eh, whatever," and spread their arms out to hug Ix.

Ix accepted Hel's embrace, and then the two contenders for twinkest Boarder begin a long, passionate French kiss. However, their tongues didn't battle for dominance. Instead, they ended up metaphorically exploring and admiring each other.

Soon, the moment was over and the pair separated.

"That was nice," Ix said.

"Real nice. I liked that."

"Not sure who won, though," Ix said with a shrug.

"Seemed pretty even to me," Hel said. "We could share the title?"

"Earlier, I'd've objected, but ... yeah, seems fair."

"Co-head twinks," Hel said. "It's got a nice ring to it."

"Sure does. Now, unfortunately, I need to go torment my agents some more, so ... see you around?"

"Yep!"

(( A/N: since this subject came up in Hel's shipfest opt-in and in chat a while back, I figured I'd go for it. Shipfest is also a great procrastination tool. ))

"So," GMA said, "we've known each other a while, and with they way you keep looking at me — you're a fan of reptiles, right?"

"Oh yes," doc replied, "snakes and lizards and crocodiles, they're all wonderful. Unless they bite."

GMA started standing up from the chair he'd been sitting it. "Wanna see my ... trouser snake?"

"I don't think I've heard of trouser snakes before, but I'd be very interested in learning."

GMA finished getting up and rather unceremoniously dropped his trousers, exposing his throbbing, yearning manhood.

"Oh," doctorlit said, glancing at GMA's member. "I can sow you something much more impressive."

"Hm?" GMA purred curiously.

"Oh yes, I can show you a whole world of wondrous snakes." doctorlit replied, rather excited. "I've been meaning to offer for a while."

"Do go on," GMA said, his rod stiffening.

"Well, first you'll need to put your clothes back on." doctorlit said. GMA pulled his pants back up, a bit confused by where this was going. "And then I'll show you my snakes! And my lizards! And all the critters!"

"Sure," GMA said unsteadily, unsure if he was being turned down or not.

And so, a while later, doc was giving GMA a zoo tour, with particular attention paid to the reptile collections, since GMA was, after all, a lizard wizard. GMA even got the opportunity to handle some snakes, really caress them and feel their firm bodies ... and also give a python a rat. Sadly, the dik-diks were feeling shy, so those puns never went off.

Eventually, it had gotten late, and doc had somehow run out of critters to enthusiastically show off to GMA (who was very much enjoying himself throughout), and the two of them went back to wherever they'd been.

"Just to check," GMA asked, after they'd gotten back from the zoo, "were you turning me down for sexytimes earlier?"

"Wait what?" doctorlit replied, freezing up a bit. "That's what you were getting at? I thought you were making a weird joke and wanted to see my snakes. Maybe that you'd been corrupted by all the badfic."

"The fact that I took my pants off wasn't a big giveaway?"

"... yeah, not sure how i missed that. Pretty obvious mating display." doc said. "So, uh, sure, maybe next weekend? Not tonight though, I have work tomorrow and need to get some sleep."

"Works for me," GMA said, turning to head out the door.

"Actually, wait, one more thing," doc said. "I, uh, have ... two, like some lizards. It doesn't really come up, but you just asked."

"That's no problem," GMA said. "I know a whole lot about lizard secks, and I'll be sure to brush up before I see you again."

doctorlit sighed in relief, then yawned. "Good. I'll see you around then."

"Bye!"

(( A/N: no editing has been done, because I'm no coward ))

“Hey Cicada! I brought coffee,” Silv said cheerfully, holding up a thermos.

“Sweet!” Cicada said. “How far did you get?” She held up the book in her hand for emphasis.

“Uh. I might’ve finished it already?” Silv said sheepishly.

Cicada laughed. “Same. Is doctorlit here yet?”

“No, not―hey Doc!” Silv interrupted herself.

“Hey!” Doc waved. “Have you guys finished it yet?”

“Yeah―” Cicada started, but was interrupted when a surprisingly buff elf ran past, shouting something about ‘Kaitlyn, my love!’

“―wha?”

“Seconding that. What?”

“I don’t think the laws of physics are affecting his hair,”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Doc said as he sat down. “It’s just Huinesoron.”

“That explains nothing,” Cicada said pleasantly.

“Don’t you know that it’s shipfest?” he asked.

“Oh, shipfest!” Silv exclaimed. “I completely forgot about it. I don’t think anyone wrote about me in the last one.”

“I haven’t been around for a shipfest yet,” Cicada said. “What are they like?”

Doc pointed to where GMA was running around, being chased by what looked a lot like a humanoid dragon.

“You’ll never take me alive, shpxer!” he shouted gleefully, still running.

“It can get strange,” Doc said, understating things just a bit. “You might want to watch out for corsets.”

“I’ve been in a corset before, they’re comfy,” Silv said absentmindedly. “I prefer underbust corsets to full ones, though.”

“Someone is probably going to write that now,” Cicada pointed out.

Silv shrugged. “Are we still going back to my place for dinner?”

“Definitely. Taco night is my favorite,” Doc said. “So what did you guys think of the book?”

“I like the ending,” Cicada offered as Silv poured them all cups of coffee.

“The battle was really something,” Silv agreed. “I especially like how all the character arcs wrapped up.”

“What about the twist? I thought it was pretty good,” Doc said.

Something caught fire in the background.

“Eh,” Cicada said. “Could have been better.”

---

A/N: My first shipfest participation-story-thingy! I hope everyone featured enjoys it as much as I do. For those confused by GMA's dialogue, I point you towards the rot13 cipher.