#please send me more marion prompts!

[mercurygray]

Hi I sent a request earlier for Brady and “your O.C.”

I’m so sorry. I only wrote your oc bc I totally blanked on Fred’s name at the moment I was writing the request lol. 🤦🏻‍♀️

But I have read a lot of your fics and I adore the characters and the way you write. I adore Fred and Brady. Fred deserves all of the love and I can’t wait to read more.

Please don't feel bad! No sorry! There's a lot of other history and other reasons behind that post and if you're new here you would not know any of this!

When I first joined this fandom in 2020, there was this kind of unfortunate pattern where some users would just leave a prompt asking for a character, or a character 'and your oc' or they'd leave an entire outline of the story they wanted to write but couldn't be bothered to do, or they'd leave the same prompt for five or six people and it wasn't ever about that writer, or appreciating that writer's work - it was just about getting 'more content' for the canon character they liked. And it was always on anon, and they never left comments and they never said thank you and I watched a lot of good writers get burnt out writing those things that they never got appreciation for.

Because to that other user they were just a vending machine. (You will hear a lot of people who were in fandom during that time use that phrase, because a lot of us felt it.)

I'm not a vending machine. I'm a human being who does this for the joy of making other human beings feel things, and I like to know when you want to reach through your computer screen and make faces at me. It's why I'm trying to get better at leaving comments on gifsets and reblogging fanfic that makes me smile, because those people aren't vending machines, either.

I started doing Thirsty Thursdays during that time, and I decided that I was going to be very specific and very intentional about what my prompts are, and what they're for, because otherwise I was going to get a lot of angry people asking why I wouldn't take their request for readerfic. (Answer: because that's not part of my writing practice. Sorry. It's nothing personal.)

So when my random Fred Friend comes into my inbox on anon after almost every single drabble and says thank you, and when someone sends me a picture of a pink dress 'for Marion' and when you, Kind Anonymous Friend, come and give prompts and say you love Fred, that means so, so much to me, because it reminds me I'm not a vending machine. Thank you for doing that.

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

For the Marion prompt request, if you still want to do one, how about Marion helping take care of Luc? I just love the idea of Marion being good with especially chaotic children and handling him like a champ 💜

"Are you sure?" Yeza asks nervously. "He can be kind of a handful."

Marion shakes her head with a smile, "I raised Jester. I can handle Luc." The boy in question is currently sat on the ground a few feet away, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he tried to reload his crossbow. Marion pats Yeza's shoulder, "Have a day to yourself, you need one."

"Thank you, Marion. I'll be back to get him tonight." Yeza smiles gratefully at her and walks over to his son. "I'll see you later, okay? Be good for Miss Marion."

Luc nods, still distracted by his crossbow, but he lets his dad kiss his curls before leaving. Once Yeza is gone, Marion turns to the child on the floor of her bedroom. She crouches down next to him, "Do you want to see something cool?"

Luc looks up at her with big, mischievous eyes, exactly like her Jester. "What is it?" He asks eagerly.

Marion smiles and stands, offering the boy her hand. He jumps to his feet and takes it, his crossbow dangling from the other hand. "Come on, I'll show you." With that, Marion leads Luc out of her bedroom and down the stairs. She has to walk slow so Luc can keep up, halfling children are much smaller than she expected.

She takes Luc into the main room where tables are being prepared for her performance tonight. Luc looks around at all of the people much bigger than him carrying around huge platters of centerpieces and candles. Luc's eyes catch on a server struggling to carry a pile of table clothes and he starts to aim his crossbow.

Marion puts her hand on top of the toy and lowers it. Before Luc can look at her with a pout, she says, "I have a much better place to do that." She winks at him and starts walking again, Luc catching up eagerly.

Marion takes Luc on stage and then into the wings. Ropes and beams and hanging lights are all above them, in the cramped space between the top of the stage and the ceiling. She looks down at Luc, gives him another wink and with a tune hummed under her breath, she and Luc disappear from the wings and reappear a hundred feet up on the cat walk.

The cat walk over looks the whole ballroom, giving both of them a clear view of every person. Luc's eyes go wide and he looks up to Marion with an excited grin. "Did we just teleport!"

Marion smiles, "We did. Now, if you're amenable, I have a target I need neutralized." Luc puts on a mock serious expression and readies his crossbow. "Very good, this is a very serious job, one that I would only give to my most trusted associate." Luc puffs out his chest.

"Who do I got to kill?" He asks, deepening his voice.

Marion crouches down to his level so she can point to his target, the biggest person in the room. Bluud is hailing down a server, pointing to something on their tray.

"Tall, scary guy with horns?" Luc asks. Marion nods and watches as Luc preps his crossbow, bracing it against the bars of the railing for extra stability. Just like his mother taught him, he stares down the shaft, eyes narrow until he finds his target.

Then he pulls the trigger.

Marion and Luc watch as the wooden arrow (with a rubber tip) sails over the crowd until in slams into Bluud, right on his forehead. Marion is stunned for a moment, Luc is much more adept with a crossbow that she realized.

Then Luc bursts into laughter, Marion follows a second later, clutching the railing. Bluud picks up the bolt with a confused frown, but upon hearing their laughter, looks up at them, having to crane his neck way back to do so.

He huffs and tosses the bolt aside. "Oh no, we better run!" Luc exclaims.

"I think you're right." Marion takes Luc's hand again and they vanish from the cat walk.

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 13

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

The twins find out!

First< Previous > Next

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Ladybug lands on the building across from the city hall, where Marion had asked to meet up after patrol. She stretches out, enjoying the exercise after being cooped up in the hospital keeping Marion company. She looks over the city, with clear skies that Gotham simply didn't have. Then again she didn't mind so much Gotham has is own style that didn't want or need to change. Chat Noir lands in front of her a minute later, Dupain bakery box in hand.

“I don’t know how other people deal with homesickness,” Chat Noir drops down opening the box.

“Don’t let Kaalki know you're using her miraculous to eat cookies,” Ladybug sits next to him, legs dangling over the edge.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I also use them cause I look great in glasses,” Marion poses despite not wearing them as Chat Noir.

“Sure you do,” She turns back, looking over the city hall, “Thats why your most popular identity wears a mask,”

“Well all my identities- hey!” Ladybug snorts, not needing to look to know Chat Noir was pouting, “You’re just saying that cause your jealous how loveable and popular I am, especially Chat Noir,”

Yeah right. There was a little girl walking on the street below them right now wearing a Ladybug dress MDC had designed. She internally scolds herself for smiling.

“It’s not about popularity, we must take our jobs seriously to protect pari-”

“Do you dare me to steal the Mayor’s sash?” Chat Noir interrupts her speech, talking through a mouthful of cookies.

Ladybug releases a long suffered sigh.

“Yeah, I do,” She takes a cookie from the box.

“Good because I already did it,” She looks over, Chat Noir grinning ear to ear holding the Mayor’s sash, “Let's watch,”

He points towards a window where they have a clear view of the Mayor’s office. He was looking in the mirror and had only just realised it was missing. When Marion stole it she didn’t care to find out. He starts rooting around his office pulling out the contents of draws and cupboards haphazardly. Chat Noir laughs when he starts checking under furniture.

“So how are your ribs feeling,” She asks, noticing he wasn’t cringing at the movement.

“Purrfect,” He purrs, playing with the sash he was now wearing.

“I walked right into that one,” She doesn't tell him off, taking the last cookie instead,

“Yes you did,” Chat Nori reaches for another cookie.

Frowning at her Ladybug sticks out her tongue. Disgusting, covered with mushed up chocolate chips. Chat Noir blanches and turns away.

“Look he left to get help,” Chat Noir grins, both looking towards the window, “Just a sec,”

Chat Noir jumps over to the large window they've been watching through. Slipping inside he places it on top of the desk covered in wayward papers. Ladybug smiles, feeling her yo-yo buzz. They had synced their hero phones up to their normal ones long ago. She had just received a text from Aunt Selina that they were on their way with lawyers. Chat Noir jumps back to her side, grinning as the door opens. Officer Roger steps through instantly spotting the sash on the desk. Marinette can practically feel the officers disbelief as the Mayor tries to explain.

“Aunt Selina texted, we got to go,” Marinette tells him as Chat Noir starts cackling.

“Just a sec,” Chat Noir snaps a picture with his Baton, “Purrfect,”

“Two in a row? Really?” She raises her eyebrow, as he takes out the horse miraculous.

“If it ain’t broke,” Marion shrugs, slipping the glasses over his mask.

“It’s broke, it’s really, really broke,”

Marion only grins transforming and opening a portal back to Gotham.

“Why do I need to be here?” Jason asks, leaning against the wall next to Marion.

“Because the press have several pictures of you driving them away without helmets,” Bruce scowls, standing by the lawyer's seat next to Marion's bed.

“I haven't crashed my bike yet, so what's the issue?” Jason shrugs, grin on his face revealing he knew the exact issue. Marion couldn't help but mirror it.

“You’ve crashed it many times,” Bruce corrects, scowl deepening.

“What! Are you ok?!” Marion snaps towards Jason, scanning him for injury.

“Yeah I’m fine,” There's an amused curl to Jason's lips, “What about you?”

“Oh I’m fine, I heal pretty quickly,” Marion doesn't lean back on bed, forgetting he was meant to be injured.

“You realise your ribs are broken right?” Jason smirks down at him.

“I’ve had worse,” Marion smirks right back, meeting his challenge.

“What! When!” Oh right, their Aunt is here, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Happens all the time in Paris,” Marion hopes he can pass it off, and avoid the wrath of his sister next to him, “The cure usually heals us pretty quick,”

“The cure?” Bruce prompts, frown lines deepening.

“Yeah Ladybugs cure, she beats the Akuma then releases a whole bunch of Ladybugs like whoosh, that come and fix everything,” From Marinette's face he can tell that he sounded crazy, and she knew what he was talking about.

“... where to start?” Jason looks confused down at him, Marion tries to avoid the same looks from everyone.

“Ladybug? Akuma?” Bruce apparently does know where to start.

“Auntie, don’t you remember last time you were in Paris?” Marinette steps in to save him, “We came home early because school was canceled because of an Akuma attack,”

“I thought you were just skipping!” She exclaims, both shocked and defensive.

“And you didn’t send us back?” Marion cracks a smile.

“Did you really think we’d skip?” Marinette frowns.

“Wouldn’t blame you for it,” Aunt Selina shrugs, Marinette looks like she's about to start a one sided argument. Marion was not about to back her up.

“Who’s Ladybug?” Bruce cuts in, whether he knew of the brewing argument or not is up for debate.

“Hero of Paris?” Marinette meets Marion's glance.

“Paris has no heroes,” Bruce says, with far too much confidence for someone completely wrong.

“Well you might want to let her and Chat Noir know that,” Marion smirks, he'd make sure to deliver the message.

“Not to mention the rest of the Guardians,” Marinette adds, perhaps a little more concerned they didn't know than he was.

“There's more than one?” Jason speaks up, Marion can’t help but feel he and Bruce are having their own secret conversation through glaring.

“Of course, Paris is attacked by super villains every other day,” Marion answers flippantly, doing nothing to dissolve the tension.

“Ok, no, I’ve been to Paris plenty and it’s never been attacked,” Their Aunt says, time for them to hold their own secret conversation.

“Um…” She was definitely privy to one attack, not that people in her position usually remember what happens, “Guess you must of just missed it,”

Smooth he can practically hear Marinette scoff. A silence traps them, likely shorter than it feels.

“Moving on,” The Lawyer, who had introduced herself as Emma, frees them,“I highly recommend there be a press statement released immediately,”

“That isn’t going to stop anyone,” Marion frowns, first hand experience teaching him well.

“No, but we can start pursuing legal action,” Emma agrees, bringing documents out of her briefcase.

“Several news sources can be sued for slander and endangerment,” She hands Marinette the documents, Marion resting his chin on her shoulder to see, “They also played a part in informing villains of your whereabouts, allowing the attack and making you vulnerable to another, I’m not saying this to scare you-”

“It’s fine, we know,” Marinette gives a friendly smile, “Please be honest, it’s more efficient to just be blunt,”

“Right... so several official news sources should be taken to court,” Emma takes on a more professional air, “There are many independent sources that can receive lawsuits, however the most prudent one would be those confirming your presence at the aquarium,”

“I don’t really think we need to go after regular people,” Marion looks over the file that includes pictures of the group he had scared off at the aquarium before the attack.

“It’s your choice, but I strongly encourage you to think over at least sending them charges,” Emma urges, Bruce nodding along, “If nothing else than to discourage others from doing the same,”

“Give us some time to think it over, please,” Marinette sifts through the documents, organising them, “We’re fine with any press release that we can look over first,”

“Very well,” Emma meets Marinette's smile, “Mr Wayne if I can discuss the press release with you?”

He nods, he and Jason leave the room with Emma. Leaving the twins with their Aunt.

“When did you become so cool?” She grins, moving up the bed.

“I’ve always been the coolest twin,” Marinette shrugs, Marion rolling his eyes.

“Nope I distinctly remember you running into the same pole three times in six minutes,” His smirk meets Marinette glare.

“How did you manage that?” Aunt Selina asks, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Clumsiness has always been a special talent of mine,” Marinette puts the papers down, not quite pulling off the overconfident air he carries, being a little too close to honesty.

“Sure has,” Marion sits back, pulling up his legs for their Aunt to move closer.

“So what do you think we should do?” Marinette questions, when she's seated just across from them.

“...I think it’s complicated,” Aunt Selina hesitates, looking towards the door, “More complicated than they realise,”

“What's wrong?” Marion follows her gaze, another hesitation thats so unlike her, “... Aunt Selina?”

“I’m not your Aunt,” They both go stiff, waiting for more in the silence that follows her not meeting their eyes.

Right now Marinette’s head is probably buzzing with ideas and theories on what that means.

Marion’s mind remains blank, waiting for an answer that she seems to be battling with.

“............ I’m your Mother,”

“Excuse me, what?” Marion’s voice is just as blank, words refusing to process.

“And Bruce is your Father,” She adds, jumpstarting them out of their shell shocked state.

“What!” They both shout, turning towards each other.

“Look, I was young when I had you, I didn’t know what to do,” Selina runs a hand through her hair, still not meeting their gazes as they snaps back towards her, “I knew I wasn’t good enough to raise you, and Bruce wasn’t exactly in the best place back then, at least not enough to raise a child, so I didn’t tell him,”

That is… that is information.

“But, there was Tom and Sabine who wanted kids so bad, I knew they would be amazing parents,” Well yes, “So I gave you up,”

Now Marion's thoughts were a storm. Whipping around his head too fast to get a hold of and actually understand.

“I’m not saying this to pressure you into anything,” Selina follows after a long silence,  “You don’t have to tell anyone, and if you like I can walk out of this room and we can never speak of this again, everything can go back to normal,”

“... do you think we can have a moment?” Marinette sounds just as blank as he had.

“Of course,” That slight fake smile clearly trying to hide the hurt allows Marion to grasp hold of one thought.

“Hey… no matter what we still love you,” The smile turns to a genuine one, Marinette agreeing.

She doesn't reply, leaving the room, door closing with a soft click.

“.... Oh my god,” Marion whispers, staring at the door.

“Oh my god,” Marinette says, Kwamis coming out of hiding, concerned looks going unnoticed.

“Oh my god!” Marion shouts, reality hitting all at once.

“OH MY GOD!” Marinette can surely be heard from outside.

“She’s our Mother!?” Marion turns to Marinette for confirmation.

“HOW is this possible!” So that's a yes.

“Why didn’t anyone tell us!” Marion feels himself getting hysterical.

“Hold on, let's think this through calmly and rationally,” Marinette takes a deep breath, hand on his shoulder.

“Screw that!” Marion pushes her hand off, standing “After something like this we’re allowed to freak out!”

“This is so weird!” Marinette groans, sliding back in bed.

“I know!” Marion starts to pace, latching onto random thoughts and memories, “And everything makes so much sense!”

“How did we not see this?!” Marinette asks the ceiling.

“It’s alright, it probably just never occurred to you to even think about it,” Tikki tries to placate.

“Did you know Tikki?!” Marinette asks, Kwami of creation.

“No I certainly didn’t,” She shakes her head, Marion turning to Plagg.

“I did think she’d make a good Black Cat,” Plagg shrugs, a little too casual compared to Marions current state, “Didn’t think it was because of this,”

“Not to worry, if you were to have any true lineage it is a privilege to be descended from a family such as the Waynes,” Kaalki declares, Marion taking a moment to dissect the sentence.

“Oh my- Bruce Wayne really is our Father!” Marion slams his hands down on the bed railing.

“Keep your voice down!” Marinette hisses, sitting up.

“That’s not important!” Marion throws his hand up, gesturing wildly to the general area, “We really are the Wayne twins!”

“The tabloids actually got it right,” Marinette muses softly, leaning back.

“That never happens!” Marion agrees, having spent plenty of time laughing at bad tabloids about themselves, “How could complete strangers be able to tell when we couldn’t!?”

“Now, now, it was a lucky guess, you had no reason to think it was true,” Tikki tries to bring order to the chaos.

“Other than the fact we’ve known her our whole lives and easily could have seen how similar she is to us,” Marinette mumbles out.

“And she’s really bad at pretending us calling her Aunt doesn't bother her,” It wasn’t until now he actually knew why.

“So I guess the first question is how do we feel about this?” Marinette tries to follow her Kwami’s lead.

“Too big a question,” Marion groans, flopping down onto the bed.

“What should we do?” Marinette asks, he turns his head to fix her with a glare.

“Way too big a question,” Marion feels Plagg curl up against his side, Kaalki also sitting near.

“What will this change?”

“Tikki! Take over!” Marion yells into the covers.

“I think you should start at the beginning,” Tikki says calmly, “How do you feel about being given up,”

“I don’t know,” Marion groans into the covers, another coming from Marinette.

“Angry, sad, betrayed?” Tikki prompts, making Marion frown.

“Not really, it’s kind of hard to,” He answers, turning away from the sheets, “It’s not like she just up and abandon us,”

“And we don’t know the full story,” Marinette adds, Kwami resting in her hands.

“Then maybe you can ask her,” Tikki suggests with a smile. “How do you feel about Bruce-”

“Nope, still processing, not touching that with a ten foot pole,” Marion refuses, causing the Kwami to giggle.

“Ok whatever you're comfortable with,” She smiles, giggles dying down.

“Tikki you have to realise I am so far outside of my comfort zone right now, that sitting in the middle of Hawk Moth's lair surrounded by every Akuma we’ve ever fought sounds more comfortable,” The sad thing is, he isn’t even exaggerating.

“Kid you do have an out,” Plagg flies into this field of vision, “You can ignore it and go back to normal, or confront it and see what happens, which do you want,”

Marion frowns, not at Plagg he’s right, for once. Neither of them speak. Every time Marion tries to think of the future, memories pull him back. Until one catches his attention. It was something he thought of often, usually when trying to avoid getting Akumatized, but sometimes just to smile. However, now it has a new meaning, he isn’t sure if it ruins the memory or improves it.

“... Hey, Nette, do you remember what happened when we found out we were adopted?” Marion breaks the silence, turning to the smartest person he knows, and that includes the person who created an AI at fourteen.

“We asked who our real Maman was?” Marinette watches as he sits up.

“Aun-she sat us down and told us off,” Marion scoots up the bed to sit next her, “Said that even if we didn’t have the same blood as Maman, no one in the world was closer to our Mother than her,”

“.... She always looks so in pain when we call her Aunt,” Marinette leans her head against his shoulder.

“.... I don’t want to ignore this,” Marion decides, enough time passing for them to relax against each other.

“... Neither,” Marinette eventually agrees.

“So what now?” Marion asks aloud, “We just change everything ?”

“I guess so,”

They share a soft smile, wouldn’t be the first time.

------------

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

tapestry 👑 III

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The reader speaks up.

Note: Here’s part 3. I’m still going while I can. Fair warning that I work every day given the holiday season and so I’ll do my best to keep up but so far I’m having fun and you all are too. I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

It was a week before your father returned. A gruelling week.

You weren’t surprised to hear of his arrival from another. Nor disappointed that he didn’t call for you immediately. That was your father’s way. He doted on Alice and shunned you. She brought him esteem with her marriage to a duke and you brought him disgrace with your failure to garner even a betrothal. The convent lurked on your horizon.

When he did send for you, the dread sank deep in your chest. The thought of your inevitable meeting hung over you all day and to face him was an obstacle in itself. Even as a small girl, you’d managed to stoke his ire. You were too quiet, and when you were not quiet enough, you were flowery and irritating. Not like Alice; refined and endearing.

Your father’s servant led you to his chambers. As a lower lord, he had no receiving chamber, merely a screen between his bed and his desk. You entered with your head dipped. A quill scratched noisily on parchment as the servant informed your father of your presence and retired to his vigil beside the door.

Your father didn’t look up. A candle sat on his desk as he wrote and the lanterns did little to add to the hazy glow of the amber fire. His grey hair was combed back as it always was; thick despite his age. His lips moved along with the words he spilled from his nib.

“Father,” You greeted. He didn’t even nod. You waited, hands clasped before you. “Is Alice well?”

He lifted his quill and dabbed dry its end. He sat back and looked at you with a tilt of his head. He placed the pen on his desk and sighed. “Daughter.” His eyes were dull, unimpressed. Disinterested even though it was he who prompted the visit. “Yes, she is well. As is the child. A grandson.”

“And mother? She has remained with Alice?” You asked. You were hopeful she would’ve returned to court and offered you an ounce of companionship. 

“For the time being. Until they are ready to return to court. Though the duke should return within the month.” 

Your father spoke grimly. His tone rarely wavered; rarely rose above a monotone. Only with the king or some higher lord did he show a trace of humanness.

“So all is in order.”

“Is it?” Your father wondered as he leaned on the arm of his chair. 

You blanched. You hoped it was. The king had not bothered you since that night after the banquet, the queen remained ever gracious, though Rose was as thorny as the flower. But all seemed to be as it was and just in time for your father’s return. You’d thought your prayers answered; the rumours swept away before he could hear of them.

“Of course, father.” You assured him. You felt so small before him. 

“Mmm,” He considered you. His lips curled in a sinister smirk. “You danced with the king?”

“At his request,” You replied. “But you know I haven’t a quick step, father.”

“You needn’t remind me of your shortcomings, daughter,” He quipped. “But it surely must have been adequate for as I hear it, he called for you the next night.”

“An invitation which I refused.” You said plainly. “As a proper lady would.”

“A foolish lady.” He gripped the arm of the chair as his lips turned downward. “So it is true?”

“Would you rather I accept and tarnish my reputation? Our family’s name?” 

“I’d rather you seek the rare favour you can find in this world.” He spat. “You are as daft a woman as you were a child.”

“Forgive me, father, but I only did as I thought you’d wish me to.” You pleaded. “You wouldn’t want me to resign myself to a life as the wife of a second son.”

“As it is, I’d prefer you the wife of any.” He huffed. “And if you cannot achieve that, a king’s mistress is a fine consolation.”

You frowned. How could he not be proud of your resolve? Of your restraint? He always lectured you on propriety and now he sneered at it.

“I would rather the convent.” You hissed.

“You must realize, girl, that this is not about your whims, but the king’s. Should he will you on your back, you will lay before him as he pleases.” He snarled. “So if he should come to you again, you will not deny him.”

“He has not in the week since.” You assured him.

“And I doubt he will now.” Your father grumbled. “As always, you’ve ruined it all.”

“I’ve only done as you taught me to.”

“Enough of your insolence.” 

“My insolence? I will not be used by the king--”

“This is not about the king. It is about me, your father, and your family.” He stood and planted his hands on his desk. “You could do more as the king’s whore than the wife of some lowly baron of the marshes. If you were not so heedless, you might even raise our name. The Marquess of Lofton was but an earl before the king thought to take his daughter to bed.”

“I will not trade my virtue for your advancement.” You gritted.

“For what other purpose is a daughter good for?” He hurled viciously. “You shall lift your skirts for my fortune one way or the other. Better it be a king, than a pauper.”

“I will not.” 

“You will,” He pushed himself straight and stormed around the desk. He rushed towards you and glared down as he slid to a stop. “If the king has not already found another fancy, you will do as he wishes. Should he return to you, you will welcome him fondly.”

“No.” You growled as you set your shoulders. “I will not.”

“You will,” He struck you so hard you stumbled back. You touched your cheek softly as it burned. “Because you are my daughter. My property.”

You held your tongue. You gulped as you dropped your hand and stood straight. You blinked.

“Father.” You said evenly.

“Understood?” He sneered.

“I understand you.” You twined your fingers together tightly. You might understand his wishes but you would not obey him. Let him rage and send you off to the nunnery when he realized. 

“Good. Now be off. I’ve more important business than my impetuous daughter.” He turned back and rounded his desk. “I swear, you’ve always been intent on ruining me.”

You muttered a farewell as he sat. As you turned, the servant avoided your gaze and you swept past him through the door. In the hall, the air was cool against your hot cheek. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. You hoped it was already too late and your spurning of your father’s ambitions was already complete. 

👑

When you returned to your chamber, the other ladies were on their beds. They read or sewed, and were oddly quiet. You didn’t realize at first why. You were drained from your meeting with your father and just wanted to forget about it. Foremost, you wanted to forget about court and its spectacles. 

Then you saw it. The small box on your pillow. It sat on a folded note and you held your breath. In dread, anxiety, and fear. You looked around the shared room. You caught Sybil watching you as Joan and Marion tried to hide their eyes behind their books. You lowered your chin and sighed quietly.

You neared the top of the bed and reached for the box. You unfolded the note with nervous fingers and the scrawl within seemed to move around. You could barely focus as you thought of your father and his anger. At last, the letters stood still and you read with bated breath.

My lady,

I have counted the ways I might apologize. For my assumptions, my insinuations, and gross misstep. My intent was never to demean, never to offend, and so I cower in my remorse. In my regret for how crudely I treated you.

I am of loose impulse. I act often without truly thinking. I let myself be led by my emotions and my thought is left to wither. As I did with you. I was selfish. I did not foresee the implication of my invitation. I did not think of you or your status. For that I apologize, deeply.

But I cannot apologize for how I feel. For the sudden and fervent desire that has arose in me. The want to know you, to know more of you, to know everything of you. I will not apologize for that would stain you; your beauty, your wit, your very person. 

I should like to atone for my indiscretion. To bring you pleasure rather than displeasure. So I include, with this most heartfelt and since apology, a gift and I beg your forgiveness. I beg of you mercy. I beg of you only...you.

Your king.

You slowly lowered the parchment and looked to the box. You bit your lip and glanced around at the girls. They weren’t being so subtle anymore. You folded the paper up and set it with the box as you went to your chest. You pulled out your own square of paper and went to the desk you shared with the others.

You sharpened a nib and took a pen. You dipped it in the ink and a shadow passed over you as Sybil neared.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to open the gift?” She asked.

“No, I mean to return it.” You began to write your message. Concise enough you hopped your point was taken.

Your Highness,

While I appreciate your apology, it is entirely unnecessary. I’ve already accepted your amends and as I stated, bear to you no animosity. While a gift is most flattering, it is improper and undue. I am thence, with the utmost respect, required to return to you your kindness though your forethought is recognized.

Your loyal subject.

You folded up the small slip and stood. Sybil was aghast and Joan watched with a smug smirk. 

“As you should return it,” Joan sang, “We all know it is an empty gesture. A scheme to irk Rose. The king is loathe of her triteness though he loves her wholly. You...well, he only wants a puppet.”

“Oh, Joan, what do you know?” Marion chirped. “You’re only jealous that you’re neither of them and you’ll be left to marry that chubby Earl from Priskam.”

“I have seen the letters the king writes to Rose, I have seen the love in his eyes,” Joan insisted. “And I have seen this little mouse in her hole and she is pathetic.”

“Then you should know what lies within this letter,” You said as you went to your bed to fetch the box and the king’s letter. “And know that they are the same words he has written to a dozen women before myself. Before Rose.”

“Rose was right. You are despicable.”

“I am honest. And I see this place for what it is.” You pressed your letter to the box as you turned to the door. “I know that words are never meant as they are said. There is an edge to each syllable.” You opened the door and looked back. “Sybil, may I request a favour? Or Marion?”

“You may,” Marion spoke first.

“I should not go unaccompanied to return this. I don’t think it would be decent. Will you walk with me?” You asked.

“I will,” Marion rose and closed her book. “I should like to stretch my legs before we retire for the night.”

“Thank you.”

“Not at all,” She nodded to the door. “Let us to our task before curfew should deem us unseemly.”

You gave a small smile and led her into the corridor. She pulled shut the door and turned to walk beside you. She was quiet at first; you were nervous as you fidgeted with the small box.

“Are you not at all curious?” She asked at last.

“Naturally,” You confirmed. “But I don’t dare to look lest I be tempted to keep it.”

“Ah,” She raised her pale brows. “You shouldn’t mind Joan, she’s jealous. And she’s far too enamoured with Rose.”

“I don’t mind her.” You said. 

“Do you think the king will be upset?”

“Perhaps, but he has no reason to be. I suppose, however, that a man of his stature finds much to be displeased with and none to tell him he shouldn’t be.” You reflected. “I have made an enemy of Rose already, I do not need the queen a foe as well.”

“The queen knows the king strays.” Marion said.

“Her knowledge does not make it right. Her acceptance is not of her own will. What can she do?” You stopped as you reached the corridor along which the king resided. “As women, we are all given to circumstance we do not desire.”

Marion considered you. Her warm eyes bore into hers and she nodded. “There is much more going on in your head than I supposed.” She remarked. “Thoughts I’d never think to have myself.”

You looked at the box. Your father’s voice echoed in your head. If he was here, he’d slap you again. You raised your head and set your shoulders.

“Let this be the end of it.” You declared as you marched forward.

You’d never been down this way. Never thought you would. How did one knock on a king’s door. Well, was it necessary with the guards without? The men in mail watched your approach as Marion trailed behind. There helmets bobbed as they observed you with amused grins. How many women had they greeted in the evening hours?

“Sirs,” You nodded at one guard and then the other. “I would request the king, only if he should be available, of course.”

“The king?” The guard on the left looked over your shoulder at Marion. “You, her, or the both of you?”

“I come here on my own charge but she accompanies for decorum,” You explained. “If the king is engaged, I shall leave a letter for you to pass to him.”

“The king is alone. He may receive you,” The right guard assured you. “He’s not one to turn away a lady.”

“I would prefer he emerge,” You asserted. “It would be untoward to enter his chamber.”

“A receiving chamber is meant for that purpose, lady,” The guard returned.

“Even so, if he cannot be drawn from his privacy, I shall leave this with you.” You held up the box and letter folded atop its lid.

“Ah, don’t need to be so impatient.” The guard knocked on the door with his elbow. The sound barrelled down the hallway.

The door opened and the king’s footman, Hugh, scowled at the guard. His eyes blinked at the mailed men then turned on you. His forehead wrinkled in recognition and he spoke at last. “What is the bother?”

“This lady is here to see the king.”

“Very well, then send her in,” Hugh said sharply.

“She will not enter.” The left guard intoned.

“Says it’s indecent.” The other added. 

Hugh sighed and looked to you again. He squinted and shook his head before disappearing within. You could hear his voice and then the king’s. Both were slightly muffled and followed by a stir. You waited and glanced over your shoulder at Marion. She looked as anxious as you felt.

Footsteps and then another shadow in the door. This one broader, taller. You bowed as the king appeared. His lips parted as he saw you and he let out a deep breath.

“My lady?” He greeted. 

“Your highness,” You returned. Did your voice tremble? You could not tell. “My apologies for the disturbance but it was pertinent that I seek an audience.”

He nodded and stared at the box in your hands. “Did you like my gift?” He asked.

You swallowed. “I did not open the gift, though I did read your letter,” You felt it hard to breath. His eyes never left you. It was as if you were alone, as if there were no guards, as if Marion didn’t linger behind you. “I appreciate the gesture but I am unable to accept it.”

“My lady, do you reject my apology?”

“I...It is in my letter, your highness, but there is no apology required.” You held out the box and stepped tremulously toward him. “You must take it back.”

“I will not.” He insisted. “It is for you.”

“There is no reason for it and I cannot accept a present from a married man.” The box shook and you stilled your hands. “You may refuse to rescind it but I will not take it. I shall leave it upon the floor if I must.”

His blue eyes focused on you. They were stern but not angry. In them, a glimmer of confusion, a spark of provocation. He pressed his lips together before he spoke. “You refuse upon the grounds of my marriage?”

“I refuse on the grounds that it is improper.” You said. “On the grounds that I’ve accepted your apologies once and shall not do so again. On the grounds that I am a lady with a reputation to uphold should I have any hope of a betrothal.” Your voice had risen and you were embarrassed at the realization. “I wish that you take it back.”

“If you wish, I should happily appease you,” He stepped forward and reached out to take the box. His fingers grazed yours and his lips twitched. “For whatever you wish, I would give you, my lady. Whatever you will, you shall have. By my hand, by my order.”

His tone made you shiver. You rescinded your arm and clapped one hand over the other to uphold your composure. “Thank you, your highness.” You said. “It is late and I must return to my chamber.”

“So it is,” He accepted as he cradled the box in his hands. “And so you must.” He bowed his head and you curtsied to him. “Good night, my lady.”

“Good night, your highness.” You said as you began to back away. 

The king watched, his gaze unwavering as you retreated. There was a promise in his eye, a nonchalance in the way he held the box, how he only looked away to open it and peek inside. He turned as he snapped it shut and his guards stared ahead stiffly. His broad back disappeared behind his door and Marion gasped as she finally let out her breath.

“My lord,” Marion swore. “I thought I would pass out.”

“Me, too.” You said as you grabbed your skirts. You spun around and didn’t dare look back. “Let us be away. Quickly.”

[duskydestra]

BeauJester Week Day 1 - Fave Canon Moment

I realized very suddenly last month that I'm a sap for hurt/comfort. I love when characters tend to each other's emotional needs, especially if that energy's reciprocated when the other character eventually needs help.

Thus, my favorite BeauJester moment comes from two interactions that I group together. Near the end of "Home Is Where the Heart Is" (C2E92), the Mighty Nein arrived at the Lionett Estate. Over time, Beau felt close enough to the Nein to tell them about her father's superstitions and their strained relationship.

Even so, no one was prepared for the tense environment their presence created at the estate. While Beau talked to her family, Jester checked in on her multiple times when she noticed Beau reaching her limit. 

Outside the estate

Jester: Beau. Whatever happens, he was an asshole for being mean to you. You're a wonderful person. [Nott gives Jester a skeptical look, which Jester dismisses.] You're a wonderful person, Beau. He was lucky to have you for a daughter. Hopefully, he will realize that now. If he doesn't, remember what you told me: Fuck em.

Beau: [laughs under her breath]

Jester: You have us, and we love you so much. Okay?

Beau: Thanks, Jes. [hugs Jester and exhales deeply; gestures toward the estate] They added an arch. It's even more pretentious now. Okay, let's go.

After Thoreau makes an awkward toast to Beau's accomplishments

Thoreau: I know you well enough, Beauregard, to assume you haven't come for the sake of pleasantries.

Beau: [anxiously scratches her neck]

Jester: [stands next to Beau, puts a hand on her back, and whispers in her ear] Do you want us to stay?

Beau: [tearfully, whispers back]: Please.

Jester: Okay.

[While Beau asks Thoreau to retell his story of meeting Isharnai, Jester glares at him.]

In these moments and others, Beau is at her most vulnerable. Beau's insecurities about her place in her birth family—mainly, how they chose to send her away after failing to connect with her, and how easily she was replaced—are laid bare in front of her new, chosen family. And each time she's on the cusp of losing her shit, Jester assures her that the Mighty Nein loves, cherishes, supports her, and will be there for her every step of the way.

The fact that this is coming from Jester, who has confronted her own father for abandoning Marion and herself, adds another layer to this. Later in that scene, the two very briefly talk about just that. But I'm already stretching the prompt to include two moments when it's technically meant for one.

The bottom line: Beau was returning to a headspace no one wants to be in. Jester recognized that and offered Beau the reassurance, comfort, and attention she needed in that situation. Jester also did all this while putting on an accent for Thoreau so he didn't recognize her voice from the cryptic Sending messages.

All these elements in combination makes this my favorite BeauJester moment in canon.

[ali-kitkat]

What’s a Sham? Our Childhood - Childhood Friends AU Ch2

First  

AO3

She loved him.

How was he supposed to process that? That was something for him to sort out, later. Especially with the glee in his brothers’ eyes. Except that statement kept replaying over and over in his mind; he couldn’t think of anything else but her words.

She loved him.

He knew he had feelings for her, but he never opened that box when he was with the League or after he came to live with his father.

With the League, he never opened it because it was a weakness, and weaknesses were exploitable. He was close with her when they sparred but any other time, they acted indifferent. Their sparring matches were never supervised. It was odd that they weren’t, but they never thought much of it. They agreed to never speak to each other unless their guardians commanded them to.

The only times Marinette had ever shown emotion was when they sparred. The first time she had shown any emotion other than concentration in a fight was when he brushed off her feelings of Sabine’s words about her father, she had lost control during the fight and had beaten him into a corner until he apologized for his impudence. The second was after they were each told to kill the other.

While living with his father he never thought about her because he wasn’t sure if she was alive. He was hopeful about it, but the doubt he had made him more cynical on the days he thought of her. His brothers learned to avoid him on those days, it had taken them time to realize that. Especially on the anniversary of Slade’s attack.

He’d drawn her once, and immediately stashed the portrait away. He couldn’t bear to look at it, there were a cacophony of emotions it elicited, and he didn’t know how to handle them. Jason had found it once and asked about the girl. He didn’t have the courage to talk about who Marinette was to him. All he did was rip the portrait from the offending hands and burn it.

He was pulled from his thoughts when someone flicked him on the forehead. When he glanced around, his brothers were all pointing at Marinette. Which was rather pointless as her expression gave her away, it was one of perfectly schooled innocence. It never fooled him though.

He didn’t bother glaring at her, she would’ve been unphased after spending four years ignoring it and sending the same glare back. He sighed exasperatedly so, which prompted muffled laughter from his brothers. Grayson, the closest to him earned a jab to the ribs for his suggestive eyebrows. He himself received a sigh of disappointment from his father and another flick on the forehead from Marinette.

“Marinette.” He said, voice low and glaring at her. This time to send a warning.

“Marion, actually.” She replied.

“What?”

“My name is Marion Agreste, best not to get confused when my class is around.” She explained. “I can easily say you’re an old friend who knows me by my nickname Mari, but my class knows me as Marion or as the Ice Princess.”

There was a snort from behind them. They all turned to see the two blondes from before with amused expressions on their faces.

“Mari, you’re just full of surprises.” The boy spoke.

“Of course, she is Adri.” The girl replied, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “She’s magic or have you forgotten how she saved your ass from the harpy?”

“Chloe don’t be mean to him. You know he can’t help it. The hairspray from all those photoshoots always go to his head, killing his braincells in the process.”

The boy, Adrien Agreste he recognized, was gaping; opening and closing his mouth trying to think of a response to the insult Marinette had thrown at him. His brothers weren’t even trying to hide their laughter. Adrien had regained his bearings and shrugged Chloe’s arm off of him and scowled.

Chloe had rested her hand dramatically on her heart. “Of course, it’s just made worse by the class’s incessant need to pull him away from his sister. You’re his Jiminy Cricket after all.”

“Okay, one this is uncalled for, how dare the both of you gang up on me like this. Two, are you going to introduce us to your friend Mari?” Adrien badgered. Mari glared at him and flipped him the bird.

“Oh, dearest brother of mine, go fuck yourself.” She sassed. “If you must know, he’s an old friend.” She repeated his words from earlier making him and Drake laugh. Adrien looked quite affronted at her response. Jason snorted as his Father muttered something about children that he didn’t quite catch.

“Wait, before you maim your brother. How did you end up with the Agrestes and in Gotham of all cities?” He asked, gesturing to her friend and brother. “How much do they know? About you and where you came from?”

His father cleared his throat and glanced around. “How about you move this conversation from a public place to a conference room, this isn’t something I’d like to have spread around. I’m certain photos have already been taken of us, none of us are exactly low profile.”

Nodding their heads in agreement they headed to one of the secure conference rooms on the ground floor.

“Adrien and Chloe know who I am. You remember Slade’s attack fairly well I’m assuming. Sabine helped him, I’m sure you knew already that.” She started, her eyes hardened, and she glared at a spot on the wall. “Sabine never bothered to check on me during the attack. Not to mention since Ra’s loyalists were going to be instantly killed, I didn’t know whether or not I was safe. I went with the assumption Sabine was probably going to kill me herself.”

Mari had refused to sit; Adrien and Chloe had settled next to each other in seats closest to her. He refused to sit as well, standing beside her too. Glancing around he could see that Dick was sitting on the edge of the table with Bruce and Tim sitting in chairs across from the blondes, and Jason leaning against the wall behind them, watching the scene.

“You believe she would’ve killed you?” Adrien asked in disbelief. From a glance he could see the boy was horrified and clutching onto his friend’s hand.

“She killed her grandfather, the last Guardian before her, who had the box. What would stop her from killing her own daughter?” She let out a bitter laugh. “She knew that I would’ve killed for Damian, she instilled that in me herself. I ran partly to try and find you, but Talia’s men found me first and since it was revealed that Sabine helped Slade in his coup, I was to be killed. Especially since she never liked me either.”

She gave him a wry look and lifted her bangs showing off a scar. “I defended myself admirably, our training together paid off, but five against one isn’t quite even odds. The room for the miracle box was nearby and I entered, since I couldn’t find you and I decided my death wasn’t going to be decided by people who didn’t care about me I used what I had to escape.”

“I don’t blame you for that, you’re right. Talia would’ve killed you. I don’t know how I would have responded, especially since she told me you helped Sabine in the coup.” He said. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand gave it a small squeeze. “I had a lot of mixed feelings. I knew you wouldn’t have done that, but the love I had for Talia at that time was at war with my feelings for you.”

“Thank you, Damian.” She paused for a moment and squeezed his hand in return. “Well, I ended up Paris after using one of the miraculous. I was clutching the box, wandering around I stumbled upon a photoshoot in a park. Emilie Agreste saw me first and she was livid. She wanted to know what happened and why I looked like I came out of a war zone, I wasn’t a pretty sight. I lied, obviously, and said I didn’t remember much except that my mother was the cause of it and that I didn’t know anything else, not exactly a lie.”

This time instead of another bitter laugh, she sighed. It was one of exhaustion and acceptance. “She walked up to Gabriel and told him what I said, verbatim, and that was that. They called contacts, falsified a few documents and here I stand as Marion Agreste. A child they found with severe PTSD and amnesia who doesn’t remember her childhood. Emilie and Gabriel don’t know who I am exactly, but they do know that I lied to them, they understood why I did.”

“Now as to how I’m here in Gotham actually has to do with the fact that Adrien wanted to go to school and Chloe wanted him to as well.” She snickered. “Chloe wanted Adrien to go to school and tried to bargain with Gabriel. If Adrien wanted to go to public school so badly, I had to attend with him. Emilie didn’t want to keep Adrien in the house as he really didn’t have the most social upbringing. His social cues are shit.”

“They are not!” Adrien defended. Both Mari and Chloe gave him a knowing look and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Adrien sweetie, when I first met Mari you thought we should just get along because we were both girls.” Chloe replied, eliciting varying laughs of amusement.

“And when Chloe told us about Lila you asked what was so bad about a stretched truth.” Mari chimed in. “Then Lila mentioned she was dating you and you replied that you were gay. Now when Lila tried to cozy up to you when we started public school you shouted you were gay.”

Adrien winced looking thoroughly cowed. “Alright you’ve made your point, please stop calling me out like this.”

“Wait, why did you have to attend with him?”

Adrien started to laugh while Chloe smirked at Mari. She had groaned and refused to look at anyone else in the room.

“In my defense, I thought someone was going to hurt Adrien.” She started. “It was a little bit after Emilie and Gabriel had gotten the legal things sorted out. I went with them to Adrien’s next photoshoot in the park. While Adrien was taking a break, someone came up to him and dragged him off for a selfie. Adrien looked startled and –”

“Her solution was to remove their arm from my body and twist it so far behind their back it was dislocated. Father decided that Mari was the best bodyguard for me because she’s tiny and unassuming.” Adrien interrupted, having finally gained some composure. 

*~*~*~* 

i can’t recall if anyone asked to be tagged in this, but i’m not sure about making a taglist for this one if i do it’s going to be limited to maybe thirty or so people. 

this one isn’t beta read so if there’s anything wrong just comment and i’ll come back and fix it. probably. 

[unicyclehippo]

for a prompt like. jes goes to bed early and beau figures she’s just talking to the traveler, when she goes up she hears her talking to marion about beau and she’s just like oh. in my head it was sending but more content if they’re in nicodranas.,, idk u decide! idk how to sign this off so.,, may your microwave work for the foreseeable future :) okaybye!

they’ve been in town for a couple days and it’s great, it’s really great. nott is veth again and she’s all but disappeared with yeza and luc, spending all her time with them on the beach and in their rooms, hearing all the stories luc has about everything he has seen—twice. jester is likewise absorbed in spending time with her mum and so it’s just beau, caleb, fjord, yasha and cad. which is actually most of them but it feels odd, missing their loudest members. they spent the day—last of the three they set aside for a small vacation before orly is set to take them east to the volcano—at the beach, mostly, and then in a bookstore for a faintly smiling caleb, even though they all smell of seaweed and salt and they’re leaving sand behind them wherever they go. when he’s content and the books hidden in fjord’s bag of holding, they lose themselves in the warren of winding streets and find the diviest of bars to drink in until the whole world is warm and slightly blurred and they fling arms over shoulders and walk in a stumbling lockstep back to the chateau, not nearly drunk enough to forget the way back, not drunk at all. just—content.

jester meets them at the bottom of the steps, her hair in a new style that makes beau blink and then wink each eye in case that’ll help her focus.

‘you - changed your hair,’ she blurts.

caleb, whose shoulders her arm hangs around, staggers when she lurches forward a step.

jester lifts her hand to the short ends, runs it through the shorter curls. it’s been cut into a sweet bob, one that frames her heart-shaped face and—

‘is it bad?’ she asks, nose crinkling with worry.

beau blinks stupidly at her. ‘no,’ she says.

jester waits. then, ‘oh. okay.’

‘looks good, jessie,’ fjord calls. he looks suspiciously put together and beau wonders if it’s a paladin thing or if he’d been smart to let her win their drinking contest. she’s still thinking about it, and grinning because it had been a good, fun night, when he asks gently, ‘ready for tomorrow morning?’

‘oh. well, yes and no. i’m excited to go to traveller con of course but,’ she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. shrugs delicately. ‘i always miss my mama.’

there’s a round of nods.

beau stares at jester’s curls. her fingers burn to touch them, to feel if the curls are actually heavy or if it’s just the way they fall, if they’re as soft as they look.

‘we should—get to sleep,’ caleb says, and the words slur the slightest bit with alcohol and a weighted accent. ‘jester, the hairdresser must be a transmutation wizard. they have changed you,’ he says, and then laughs a quick laugh, which he quickly contains. but his eyes are happy and that has everyone laughing too.

‘that’s a terrible joke,’ jester tells him. ‘go to bed, all of you. and caleb—teleportation circle for tomorrow’s spells.’

‘ja, ja, i will remember.’ he taps the side of his long nose. ‘i remember.’

he and fjord and caduceus begin to climb the steps to their room. yasha makes excuses oddly fast to follow, and beau catches her eyes as she slides behind jester. yasha shoots her a look beau can’t decipher and the woman must realise that because she sighs, smiles, and continues on up the steps.

‘did you have fun tonight, beau?’

‘i missed you.’ jester eyes widen slightly. beau hurries to explain. ‘not that it’s not cool that you spent it with your mum, of course you should do that, we all know you miss her heaps which is - wow - really nice, actually? and she loves you so, duh. it’s just,’ beau shrugs, and she thinks maybe she’s a little more drunk than she originally thought because the slow clumsiness of it is catching up, makes her feel a little awkward in her own feet. ‘it’s different without you an’ nott. veth. i guess it’s not as fun for you ‘cause you don’t drink but there were card games you woulda liked. and it’s—we were just hanging out, y’know? ‘s’not the same without you. nicer when you’re there.’ she smiles then, and when jester just stares at her, she smiles wider, trying to push all the sincerity as she can into it. jester loves nicodranas and her mum, beau knows, and she’s not afraid that jester will stay behind, certainly not so close to traveller con, but beau thinks it’s not a bad time to remind jester that actually they all really, really adore her and she was missed.

the re-doubled smile must work because jester blinks a few times and then returns the smile.

‘beau,’ she says teasingly, ‘you’re so sweet when you’re drunk.’

‘i’m not that drunk.’

‘you’re pretty drunk,’ jester tells her with faux solemnity. ‘want me to take you to bed? i mean, to bed! like, to your bed to sleep.’

beau grins. ‘you’re blushing.’

jester scowls. ‘no.’

‘mhm.’ she steps closer. taps jester’s cheek. she’s gentle about it, pushes all her attention to it so she doesn’t drunkenly jab her hard. it has the effect she intended—soft, not painful—and one she didn’t, in that she feels with perfect clarity how soft jester’s cheek is, the warmth of her flush. she lets her finger drop. wavers a little where she stands only a few inches from jester. ‘um. i can make it,’ she tells jester. ‘you came down for cookies, right?’

jester frowns. ‘how did you—‘

‘not as drunk as i look,’ beau tells her cheerfully. ‘we definitely caught you out, you were trying to be sneaky ‘bout it. it’s after dinner and you’re better about sweets when you’re with your mum. an’ you were talking about ‘em this morning.’ jester stares up at her, shakes her head slowly. she looks confused, and really pretty, and beau is filled with sudden warmth at the idea of knowing someone as well as she knows jester. ‘have fun, drink some good milk. you would’ve hated the bar, the milk was bad.’

‘you had some?’

beau shrugs. ‘i ordered one for you, forgot you weren’t there. we all drank some.’ she pulls a face. then kisses jester’s cheek, presses her own flushed cheek to jester’s, who holds very still.

then, beau carries herself happily up the stairs and to jester’s room, collapsing boneless to the bed.

//

her head feels like it’s been filled with angry bees when she wakes. that might be the dream she’d had. her mouth tastes like she licked a dirty boot, too. disgusting.

if she holds herself very still, though, she can ignore all of that and maybe, maybe, fall back to sleep.

just as she thinks about it, beau knows it’s not gonna happen. her neck cricks and her bladder screams from the pressure and so with a groan she rolls to the side and carefully stands. her headache pounds a little more forcefully but it’s far from the worst she’s ever had. a little water and she’ll be grand.

speaking of water.

beau adjusts her pants back into place, wipes wet hands absently on her shirt as she leaves the washroom, steps out into the hall. it’s early still and the chateau is still. quiet. faint music and conversation lifts up to jester’s level from the one below and beau follows it like she’s caught.

by the time she has come down the stairs, she knows it’s marion’s room, and knows the voices are hers and jester’s. she thinks about turning away but the sun has started to lift and she knows jester hasn’t started to pack. how she had managed to scatter her things literally everywhere across the room beau can’t begin to understand. she’ll peek in, remind jester about it, head down for an early run on the beach maybe. and breakfast. the chateau does a damn good breakfast.

‘—don’t know what to do about it.’ jester, beau’s mind supplies. distressed.

��what do you want to do about it?’ marion. decidedly not at all distressed. amused?

‘i don’t know,’ jester wails. ‘why can’t this be easy?’

‘the worthwhile things in life rarely are, little sapphire.’

beau grins. jester will hate being told that. her grin widens when she hears jester grumble a reluctant agreement; in her mind’s eye she can see her clearly, nose crinkled, grumpy face on, strewn over one of her mother’s fainting couches maybe.

‘can’t you just tell me what to do?’ jester wheedles. ‘you know everything!’

‘about sex, perhaps. about love? not as much as i would like.’ the room is quiet for a moment, and beau thinks her suddenly racing heart will give her away. love? they’re talking about love? ‘matters of the heart always seem simple from the outside. when you’re the one tangled in it, it seems impossible, doesn’t it?’

jester makes a pitiful sound of agreement.

beau nearly does too.

‘well, what do you think then? even if you’re on the outside?’

‘i think... that you could do far worse.’

‘mama.’

‘what do you want me to say, jester?’

‘the truth!’

‘the truth?’ marion asks in an arch tone, and oh beau is less familiar with her but jester is not so removed from her mother that she can’t imagine it. the cool look, the raised brows, the pursed lips as the expression coalesces into one simple question—are you sure?

‘please, mama.’

‘very well. i don’t think you would have come to me all in a flutter if you weren’t feeling something. and you obviously hold her in high regard, or you wouldn’t have spent all of the last two days talking about her.’

‘i didnt—not all,’ jester denies, weakly.

‘you spoke of her a lot, my darling,’ marion tells her gently. a moment passes, then, ‘i think you enjoy her attention. i think you care for her very much. and i think you know how she cares for you. didn’t you tell me you thought she was going to kiss you?’

‘you should have seen the way she smiled,’ jester whispers. ‘beau was—‘

the mention of her name breaks the spell beau was held by, frozen in place listening to the conversation play out. guilt mingles hot with hope and fear, churning in her gut, but she manages to step back softly, and again until she reaches the stairs. she takes the next flight quietly before all but sprinting down the rest, flying out the door.

a run. a run along the beach. she’ll forget all about this and when she comes back to breakfast, she’ll be ready. she won’t encroach on jester, she won’t upset her with what she had hoped had been subtle. she’ll be better about it.

the sand crunches beneath her boots, the tide washing it harder underfoot than the soft white dunes, and beau runs.

[thebeauregardbros]

LFRP: Alus Beauregard | Crystal Server

THE BASICS ––– –– –

Occupation: Free Paladin | Field Medic | Café Proprietor

Hobbies: Fashion | Tea Brewing | Pastry Creation | Jewelry Making | Reading Faerie Tales

Race: Miqo’te (Sunseeker Descent)

Sexuality/Romance: Asexual / Panromantic

Relationship Status: Single; never married

Languages: Eorzean | Common. Understands all languages; possesses The Echo.

Alignment: Neutral Good

PERSONAL ––– –– –

Alias: “Alice” (💢)

Residence: The Goblet, Ward 8 : Sultana’s Breath Apartments; Wing 1; Apartment #21

Place of Work: Café Nobilitea: Lavender Beds Ward 20, Lot #8 | Anywhere his Eorzean Grand Company sends him.

Birthplace: ??? (Grew up in Eorzea; particularly in the Thanalan area)

Fears: Slugs | Failing to keep his comrades safe | Failing to save his enemies from themselves

APPEARANCE ––– –– –

Height: “Tall for a miqo’te” (5′8″/173cm)

Build: Barrel-chested, muscular; untoned muscles | Long legs, wide shoulders, slender hips.

Age: Unknown; nameday 20 yrs ago. Approximately 23 summers old.

Gender: Male

Skin tone: Tan; Gold Undertone

Eye color: Heterochromia; Deep Fuschia (Right) | Golden Yellow (Left)

Hair color: Golden Blonde

Body Mods: Pierced ears.

Distinguishing Marks: [SPOILER] Large amounts of large-scale bruises and scars all over his body. They are almost always covered up with his clothing. There are no visible scars on his face, neck, or hands.

Common Accessories: Large amounts of gold jewelry; Excessive rings, bracelets, pocket watch chains, earrings, tiaras, circlets, crowns | Large amounts of fresh and/or fake flowers; On his lapel, coming out of his pockets, warn as a flower crown, tucked in his hair, tucked amongst the buttons on his outfits, etc.

BODY LANGUAGE ––– –– –

Walk: Excellent posture; he carries his upper body with strength, while his legs nearly cross in his stride like an elegant female runway model.

Voice: His voice is often strong, clear, deep, and commanding, with the slightest hinge of huskiness. While off-guard, however, his voice cracks into a higher pitched and goofier voice. His quiet tones are very soft and sweet, like a warm fuzzy blanket wrapping you up in it on a cold winter’s night. (Voiceclaim/reference: Johnny Yong Bosch, particularly his roles as Vash from Trigun and Zero from Marvel vs. Capcom.)

Tics or Mannerisms: His speech consists of a shakepearian inspired word usage with a consistent disuse of contractions, similar to Urianger. | He tends to step-dance or become especially physically clumsy while nervous in social situations. | He will elegantly dodge all physical contact, even minor, unless he is comfortable enough with you to make the first contact.

Smell: Gardenia (Jasmine) / Cuttlebone dust

Posture: Constantly straight and erect; shoulders rolled back, chest out. Never looks truly relaxed, even while sitting. A model of good posture.

Disabilities: [SPOILER] Surface numbness on his scar tissue. Mild numbness in his left-hand fingertips.

RELATIONSHIPS ––– –– –

Romantic Partner: (None.)

Parents: Gwenneg Beauregard (Adoptive) (Deceased)

Siblings: Arc Beauregard (Twin Brother) (Alive)

Children: (None.)

Extended Family: (Unknown.)

Pets: Various unnamed wild songbirds and a fledgling Dodo that followed him home. He keeps feeding them, so they keep coming back, but he does not claim ownership of any of them. | He has also developed a relationship with a wild white horse he’s named Marion who consistently comes to his call. | His military-issued chocobo is named Erminia.

Other: Alus considers everyone he meets to be a friend.

PERSONALITY TRAITS ––– –– –

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Addictive / In Between / Nonaddictive

RP HOOKS ––– –– –

Café Nobilitea: Alus is the proprietor of a western-style teahouse with a distinct theme for elegance, royalty, and other-worldliness - His café is bright, full of flowers, and always playing soft kind-hearted piano music; the type of place a person could become lost in whence they’ve become tired of the grueling and dark outer world; a real heaven and haven. He often spends his free time there and enjoys sitting with his customers to get to know them.

Grand Company Militia: Alus is a very active member with the Eorzean grand companies in fighting against the Garlean empire and any other threats to the peace there might be upon the world. It’s very possible your character might have teamed up with him at some point in active duty.

The Prince on a White Horse: Alus patrols random fields often in order to keep the peace. Your character or someone your character knows might have been saved by the mysterious ‘Prince on a white horse’ while being attacked by bandits or beastmen, who oft leaves without giving his name.

A Fellow Warrior Of Light: Alus has helped out the Scions of the Seventh Dawn on occasion due to his status as a Warrior of Light; one of many.

LOOKING FOR ––– –– –

Long-Term ANYTHING!: Friendships, rivalries, casual familiarities, romances, anything. Alus has lived a long life without any PC RP interactions, and I feel his writing suffers for it. I want someone who will be there for the long run and get to know him. I want stories to develop. I want Alus to grow because of other people.

Open-minded villains!: Alus has the patience of a saint and will befriend the nastiest of criminals no matter what. Alus will stop them from directly committing serious crimes he may be there to witness (murder, kidnapping, robbery, etc.), but will ultimately be very forgiving and calm when dealing with these topics. He wants to genuinely make a connection with people he doesn’t understand and strives his best to soften anybody’s heart, no matter how hard. His ultimate goal is to change their ways for the better through patience and understanding.

Platonic flirts!: Alus has a lot of love to give and happy to give it to nearly everyone and anyone. He throws around the words ‘I love you’ quite easily, and if he is especially crushing on someone, he will hold their hands and hug them openly despite his normal dislike of physical touch. He is most happy when he has a large circle of queerplatonic relationships, but will be absolutely exclusive to their ‘steady’ when he has made that romantic commitment.

Distant family members!: Alus knows very little of the Beauregards; his adoptive father and surnamesake did not speak of them much. Alus is fascinated with Elezen culture and considers himself one of them. He would be incredibly happy to find anyone with the same last name who would welcome him to his adopted ancestor’s information.

ADVENTURE!: Once in awhile, let’s RP somewhere other than a unmoving place. Let’s RP in a dungeon. Let’s RP while doing gold saucer chores. Let’s RP while talking to random minor NPCs. Let’s RP while doing something other than just sitting! It can help a lot with improvisation and keep the creative juices flowing.

ABOUT THE MUN ––– –– –

Who I am: Hey, my name’s Will. I’m a 24 y/o prep cook living in Alaska. My family’s straight-up wiccan, I got 3 black cats, I love super flashy ridiculous fashion, 1980s comedies, and my favorite game’s Bayonetta. I’m a queer Aquarius with mild ADHD. Buddhism and pacifism are super important to me. I love the McElroys?? and uh. I yell in caps a lot. i WILL make you a playlist of music if you ask for recommendations, don’t fuckin tempt me. I’m a casual goofus fuck. here’s my ‘me’ tag on my personal,

Server: Balmung, Crystal Data Center

Time Zone: Alaska (GMT-8)

Availability: 11AM-2AM (subject to change)

Writing Style: Rapidfire! 95WPM. I like to RP just like I type normally - as thoughts pop up, I type ‘em, just like if I was talking. I’m not a big fan of waiting for turns; I have an anxiety disorder and that particularly makes me extremely anxious! However, I am happy to do short paragraph RP with you if we’ve been RPing long enough. Huge paragraph RP is 100% OK on Discord!

Platforms: In-game(preferred) or Discord.

Restrictions ––– –– –

No ERP!

No Permadeath! I really do not want to RP with anyone who intends to eventually kill off their character, either. This is a legitimate trigger for me.

RP Fighting...? I’ve never done this before. I’m not a fan of physical injury so it’s unlikely I would want to, either. But if the situation really calls for it, I’m open to learning. I will not allow you to permanently disfigure or disable my character - temporary injury is alright, but please talk to me about it first.

Mature Themes...? This is okay for me. Swearing, murder, prostitution, drugs.. I’m an adult! I don’t mind these themes being mentioned or being used as a backdrop to a prompt. Alus isn’t a fan of these things though! So just keep that in mind.

Sexual Assault...? For the most part, NO. However, a forceful kiss? An inappropriate touching that stops as soon as my character says no? Maybe. Ask me beforehand and be clear about what you’re thinking, no surprises.

More Info ––– –– –

Click here for Alus’ RP blog and all the memes and asks I’ve written for him!

tags;

@ffxiv-crystal-rp @crystalxivrp @mooglemeet​

[kiaronna]

Sending you lots of love, I hope you're keeping okay! And if there's still space for the prompts - honestly anything with VN's extremely good gay mom's would give me life!!! Or even - I know they've visited victuuri in stories before, but have we ever seen the boys visit their place?

[I’m accepting prompts]

[Thank you, m’dear! I am definitely keeping ok. I’m a professional Introvert in my 20s and while it’s terrible I’m not the person it’s hard for. Are you ok??

OMG VN’S GOOD GAY MOMS COMIN UP, PIPIN HOT]

Yuuri’s beanie isn’t cooperating. This wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t the fact that his beanie is supposed to be compensating for his hair. Traitor.

“Darling,” Viktor says, looking over from his window-seat, “you look as lovely as always. Besides, they already know about you, and adore you. Put the beanie down?”

He’s pouting. Immunity to that face is impossible, so Yuuri tugs the beanie down over his ears and eyes with a soft “ahhhhhgh.” Reaching over, Viktor squeezes his knee, hmms in a soft, affectionate way. Words are hard.

“It’s just– what if I make a bad impression,” Yuuri panics.

“Yes, what if you showed up with no warning, naked, and basically propositioned their son?”

Yuuri flips the beanie up and gives him a little lazy smile. “If you really want me to.”

Viktor swats at him, beaming. “Not here, Yuuri. I can’t jump you here. Contain your Eros.”

“Can’t jump me there either,” Yuuri says, squirming down in his seat, uncomfortable. “We are not subjecting your family to anything.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, toneless, with the strangest look on his face, “I’m not worried about that from us.”

Viktor’s mothers live in a small, well-kept, elegant flat in St. Petersburg.

Marion Nikiforov swings open the decorated door, beaming with a heart-shaped smile, and sings “Mon chou!”

“Maman,” Viktor says right back, trembling but warm. Yuuri knows it’s been too long, because she knocks his scarf right off his neck, and Viktor doesn’t even look to see whether Yuuri caught it, wrapping himself around her.

There is a speck of flour on her cheek. Lemon and vanilla waft around her in a scented glow. She moves in for faire la bise, and while ordinarily Yuuri would’ve jumped back on instinct, there’s just– something about her. Maybe it’s her blue eyes, so similar to Viktor’s.

“Oh, mon chou, he is perfect. Even more than on the television, no? Come, I’m baking. Mama is in her study. Please make yourselves at home.”

Yuuri takes off Viktor’s coat for him, and then Viktor returns the favor. Marion patiently waits. 

“Is that my Vitya?” Down the hallway, a distinguished woman with silver hair peers out. “So it is.”

“Mama!” But Viktor doesn’t scramble to her. Very pointedly, he grabs Yuuri’s hand, and drags them both down the hallway. They’re still holding hands, even when he embraces Ana. “Mama, this is my Yuuri. He read The Brothers Karamazov for you.”

“Moreso for you, I’m sure, solnyshko. Hello, Yuuri. Welcome.”

Yuuri bows. Maybe he bows several times. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for watching our Vitya. He’s been waiting for his great love, and I’m so glad that it is here.”

“Mama,” Viktor pleads, cheeks going rosy. “We have jetlag, but I’d hoped we could spend the morning reading and baking with you?”

Yuuri isn’t used to Viktor asking for things, no artifice or hesitance or calculation, of anyone but himself. He squeezes Viktor’s hand, something sparking and warm in his chest. He can feel his shoulders, every tense muscle, unfurling.

“Of course, of course. The first batch of pastries is almost done. Listen– Marion is singing la vie en rose.” It echoes, soft but close, down the hallway. Beside him, Viktor melts. Yuuri is Viktor’s home always, but this– this was his home first, dear and heartfelt.

“We’re so happy to be here,” Yuuri says softly. “To show my gratitude for your hospitality, I– I have a gift?”

“A gift?” Marion calls delightedly, as Ana smiles gently, says, and us for you.

It’s a visit Yuuri will never forget. Beloved.

Except for one thing. Yuuri startles awake, in Viktor’s arms, sits up. “Vi–”

“I know,” Viktor sighs, ever the lighter sleeper. “Earplugs are in the front zip of the suitcase. I couldn’t bear to wake you.��

“Is that your mothers?”

“After I moved out they stopped being quiet about it, apparently. But it’ll be us in forty years,” Viktor says, and Yuuri thinks he means to sound annoyed. He fails.

“Ha, and I was worried about us. About me.”

“For the record,” Viktor says softly, putting in his earplugs for him, “I never was.”

[teacuphuman09]

Inceptiversary 2019 MasterPost

It will soon be July and you know what that means! IT’S INCEPTIVERSARY TIME!!!!!!

In case you don’t know (and that’s fine, we love new blood in this fandom), Inceptiversary is the yearly celebration of the release of the film that keeps us darlings dreaming bigger: Inception. It takes place over five weeks (July 1st to August 5th) and includes fandom focused events, challenges, and content. It’s when we Inceptionites come together to strengthen the community, show appreciation, and welcome in a new generation of dreamers!

ALL SHIPS ARE WELCOME in the Inceptiversary festivities and we encourage you to explore a ship you haven’t before. You never know what you might find!

“But wait, teacup,” you say. “How am I to keep track of all these awesome events? How will I know what’s happening and what’s to come?”

I’m glad you asked, dear dreamer, because we have the super-organized and equally awesome @freighttraininmybrain over at the Inception Social Calendar and the miraculous trio of @flosculatory, @deinvatiwrites, and @dbshawnblog on the @Inceptiversaryblog keeping us from succumbing to Inception FOMO! So hold onto your grip on reality because the unbelievable details of this year’s Inceptiversary are laid out below!

1) Theme Weeks: 

Inceptiversary is structured over five glorious weeks, each of which caters to a theme in fandom. Fans are encouraged to post and reblog all manner of content related to each week’s theme. Memes, fics, fanvids, artwork, conspiracy theories; all will find a home! And you may just discover something you didn’t know you needed in your life.

This year’s Theme Weeks are:

Week 1, July 1 - 7 No Stone Unturned - Inception Gen Week 

This is a special Theme Week this year as we’ve paired it with a prompt challenge of the same name that will be run by @bayta-darell! The Inception fandom has a ton of love to go around, but what about the non-romantic kind of love? This week, we're focusing on all of the great platonic and familial relationships with a series of daily prompts. These are just meant as a starting point to get you inspired and by all means, disregard these as much as you want! All Inception content that isn't based on romantic or sexual relationships is welcome, and fanwork recommendations are certainly encouraged as well. Have fun, and happy Inceptiversary!

Day 1: Backstory

Day 2: Team Dynamics

Day 3: Character Study

Day 4: Rare/Underappreciated Characters (Philippa, James, Miles, Nash... anyone outside of our main dream team)

Day 5: Non-Canon Interactions

Day 6: World-Building

Day 7: Post-Canon

Week 2, July 8 - 14 It’s The End Of The World As We Know It: 

Zombies! Meteors! The Rapture! Girl Scouts! It’s the apocalypse and we want to know all about the survivors!

Week 3, July 15 - 21 Curtain Fic: 

Domestication at its best! Bring out all your happily ever afters and spend a week in bliss as your favourite ships ride off on magical rainbow unicorns and make all their dreams come true!

Week 4, July 22 -28 In Between The Lines: 

We all have them. Those headcanons about what went on behind the scenes of Inception. What happened to Tadashi? Is Ariadne hiding gills under all those scarves? Just what did the team do with all that time left over in the dream? And for Nolan’s sake, did the damn top fall over or not?

Week 5, July 29 - August 5 Crack/Fluff: 

It’s been a long month so kick back and relax with a large dose of everyone’s favourite guilty pleasure: Crackfic! We all need those fics that are purely for entertaining silly and happy ideas. They’re a soft place to land and a great opportunity to get wacky ideas out of your head! Indulge and enjoy the ride!

2. Watch Parties (@corinnetags, @noitsnacktime, @freighttraininmybrain ):    

Watch parties are an excellent way to meet other people in fandom and tend to create a ton of inspiration for future wips! All movies are connected to the cast of Inception in one way or another and will be held on either Slack or Discord or both depending on host availability/preference.  The schedule for all viewings can be found on the Inceptiversary Social Calendar.

3. Watch Party Bingo: (@withinmeloveresides1, @zuulee63)

On July 1st, 16th, and 31st, Inception Bingo during the Official (not really) Inception Watch Parties! You can check out the viewing times on the Inception Social Calendar. More info to come!

4. Inception 30 Day Challenge (@flosculatory): 

The 30 Day Challenge is such an interesting and entertaining look into the minds of your fellow Inceptionites! Learn how others feel about your favourite Inception moments and enjoy a look back at why we’re all still here, nine years after its release.

5. Trope/Kink Bingo (@teacuphuman09, @dreamhubbies):

One of the most popular aspects of Inceptiversary is the Trope/Kink Bingo, and goodness, does it ever deliver! Scoot on over to @inceptiversarybingo  for info on how to get your hands on your very own bingo card, then indulge your (not so) secret desire to write all the tropes and/or kinks your little fandom heart desires!

6) AELDWS: (@teacuphuman09):

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a stake in this year’s Arthur/Eames Last Drabble Writer Standing event. AELDWS was missed last year, but in 2019 it’s returning to its roots and eliminating one writer every week until a champion is crowned! (I’m coming for you, @deinvatiwrites)

7)  Inceptionkitties: (@a-forger-and-a-point-man) 

The Caption Contest is back! Send in your purrfect puss pics, captioned with a quote from Inception and you could win all the fame and fortune of the Inception cat fandom! Get to it, meow!

8)  Inception Quiz (@thingsbeginningwitha, @betterpausenow, @freighttraininmybrain):

Known by some (me) as one of the most difficult quizzes of all time, the Inception Quiz tests your knowledge, dedication, and attention to detail of all things Inception. Think you can handle it? (You can!) More details to come!

9) Inception Positivity: (@flosculatory)

Do you have a fandom crush? Someone you admire or look up to? Someone you feel needs to know just how important and appreciated they are? Then jump over to @inceptionpositivity to fill out a submission form and send your love across the fandom!

10) Fic Recs: (@teacuphuman09)

Looking for a specific fic or wanting to read along with the Theme Weeks? @inceptionficrx (@teacuphuman09) has what the doctor ordered! We’ll have weekly reading recs as well as special recs for Wednesday Hump Day and Bunk Fic Fridays (@avacynner); little pick-me-ups and some pants-tingling to see you through the weekend!

11) Inception/007 Battle Royale: (@a-forger-and-a-point-man)

The who, what, where, and when has yet to be announced, but get ready for yet another fight to the (canon)death! More details to come!

12) Inception Big Bang: (@dreaminghigher)

Back after a few years off, the Inception Big Bang is a fantastic event that combines titillating fic ideas with gorgeous artwork! Head on over to @inceptionbigbang for more info, and hurry because sign-ups are almost closed!

13)  Fandom Auction for @nolaespoir: (@corinnetags)

Fandom lost an incredible talent and friend, Nolaespoir, and this year’s auction is in her name, with proceeds going to charities dedicated to suicide prevention and mental health. Check out the auction site and bid on some amazing items up for grabs!

14) Here’s a list of other Inceptiversary blogs and tags you should follow to keep up to date on the festivities:

First and foremost there is the Inception Blogs Masterlist, curated by the incomparable @a-forger-and-a-point-man

Are you a member of the InceptionSlack yet? It’s a great online platform that allows us to communicate directly and get to know each other! We have chat rooms for just about everything from career support to writing & art, and everyone is welcome! We have the best custom emojis, let me tell you! This is also where the Watch Parties will be hosted, so if you’d like an invitation, send @teacuphuman09 or @deinvatiwrites an ask!

Looking for something a little more Inception-centric than Slack? Want to be part of everything Inception related? The Inception Discord is the place to be! So head on over and check their platform out and enjoy some sweet, sweet discord!

Wondering about who’s who or the history of our fandom over the past nine years? @flosculatory and @gessorosso have put together two wonderful resources! The Friending Meme is a place to put your deets if you’re wanting to connect with others in the fandom and the Fandom Page (which now houses the Friending Meme!) is an ongoing collection of events and moments in fandom history. If you’d like to contribute something to the Fandom Page, please contact @gessorosso.

You should obviously be following #inception,  #inceptiversary, and your ship tags (tumblr.com/tagged/[search term]), but may we also suggest:

#christopher nolan

#emma thomas

#wally pfister

#hans zimmer

#tom hardy

#ken watanabe

#marion cotillard

#leonardo dicaprio

#dileep rao

#ellen page

#joseph gordon-levitt

#cillian murphy

#michael caine

#lukas haas

#tom berenger

#pete postlethwaite (RIP)

14) Where can I find the Inception Button I keep hearing so much about?

RIGHT HERE!

That’s it, that’s all (it’s not, there’s always more). So get ready because we’re just days away from Inceptiversary 2019!

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Deacon St. John || Partner in Crime

A/n: I feel like this story isn't the best and is utter crap, but I hope someone will enjoy it. Love you all!!! ••••••••••••••••••••

***HAS NOT BEEN PROOFREAD! PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF ANY ERRORS!!!***

***** Prompt: While on a supply run, Deacon has a run-in with a mysterious woman and her four-legged companion. *****

~3rd Person POV~

In Marion Forks, Deacon was in search of supplies for himself. The town may have been small, but it proved to be a good place to scavenge resources if he ever ran low on what he needed. He checked inside a couple of houses before moving on to the other places around town. Fortunately, there weren't many Freaks prowling the area since he burnt the nests during his first visit to Marion Forks.

Deacon killed a few Swarmers and Newts as he reached the gas station across from Hungry Jim's. He had left his bike down the road a little ways, not wishing to grab any attention due to its roaring engine. 

Once grabbing what he could from the gas station, Deacon proceeded to the restaurant across the street. Inside Hungry Jim's, the drifter discovered the items he needed to create more bandages and molotov cocktails.

The moment Deacon turned around, a Bleacher hissed and lunged towards him. Confused as to how the monster snuck up on him, he fought against it s it tried to sink it's teeth into his flesh.

Suddenly, the Bleacher was torn off Deacon and dragged by the ankle across the restaurant floor. The drifter watched in amazement as a border collie tore off the Freak's leg to prevent it from getting back up. The dog raised its head, wagging its tail as it barked at him.

Deacon grabbed his boot knife and plunged it through the Bleacher's skull, killing it instantly. Once the monster was dead, he kneeled down and held out a hand towards the canine. "You seem friendly." The border collie moved closer to him, allowing the drifter to pet it.

A smile spread across Deacon's face as he ran his hand through the dog's soft fur. He saw it was a girl and saw how her coat was well maintained and by the size of her stomach, she was fed on a normal basis. One question came to mind as he rubbed behind her ears. "Where's your owner?"

The dog's ears twitched as she backed away and barked at him. She walked around in a circle before running out of the restaurant. When the canine stopped in the street and saw Deacon wasn't following, she sat down and waited for him. Her tail wagged back and forth as she waited patiently.

Puzzled at the dog's behavior, Deacon decided to follow her. She led him through town and up a dirt path leading out of town. A house was located at the end of the path, which seemed to be the animal's destination.

When they arrived at the house, the canine led Deacon to the rear of the house and into the backyard. He spotted a woman with (h/c) hair squatting down beside a small pen filled with hens. She stood up when the border collie ran over and nudged her wet, cold nose into her cheek. "There you are! I was wondering where you went, Hope."

Deacon stood silently a few feet away. When the mysterious woman turned around, her (e/c) eyes widened. She went to grab the pistol strapped to her thigh, but the drifter raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The woman's hand froze as it hovered above her handgun. "Are you the one who rode in on the bike?"

"Yeah," Deacon nodded.

She removed her hand from her firearm with a sigh. "We've been having issues with drifter's lately. You must be one of the good ones if Hope led you here."

"Hope, huh?" Deacon eyes the border collie sitting beside her master.

The woman smiled and placed her hand on top of the dog's head. "Gotta have a little hope somewhere these days."

"You said you were having issues with drifters?" Deacon inquired.

She nodded with a frown. "Yeah, and I know exactly who's sending them."

"Who?"

"A drifter named Liam. He leads a camp located somewhere on the Santiam Highway. I'm not sure where exactly it is, though, but his lackeys always use the same route when they enter town. Hope usually scares them off when they arrive." The woman moved aside, Hope following close behind. "Could I ask for your help in dealing with Liam?"

"I'll deal with Liam. I think he's the same asshole who's been sending drifters to attack the Hot Springs Camp," he answered.

"Wouldn't be surprised. The bastard needs to be killed for all the shit he's done. I can't believe I used to ride alongside him," she sighed. "I'm (Y/n), by the way. Sorry for the late introduction."

"Deacon," the drifter responds.

(Y/n) smiled warmly. "Nice to meet a friendly face this far out. You already know Hope, my partner in crime."

"She saves me from a Freak in town. Never seen a dog go after a Bleacher before," he chuckled.

"She's a tough one," the woman smirked. "But also stubborn. Guess you have to be in order to survive nowadays. Anyway, I better give you a little info about Liam so you'll know what kind of asshole he is."

Once Deacon learned more about Liam from (Y/n), he checked his gear before turning to leave. "I'll take care of Liam."

"Whoa, hold up," the woman cried out. "I'm going with you. What he did to me is unforgivable and I want to make sure he suffers."

Deacon's thoughts were in turmoil. He may have only known (Y/n) for a few minutes, but he didn't want her to get hurt. On the other hand, he could tell by the way she holds herself that she can handle whatever comes her way. Finalizing his decision, he sighed. "Fine. We'll take my bike."

(Y/n) nodded and followed Deacon. When she heard Hope following them, she turned and glared at her. "No, Hope. Go back." The dog whined as she laid down, giving her owner the sad puppy dog eyes. The woman heaved a sigh before turning her back. "Not gonna work this time."

Deacon watched as Hope went back to the house with her tail between her legs. There was no way for the canine to join them on the bike and she would exhaust herself if she tried to keep up with them. The only creature capable of keeping up with the motorcycle were Runners, which are infected wolves.

While making their way to the bike, Deacon suddenly pulled (Y/n) behind a car. She was confused until the sound of multiple motorcycles echoed through the streets of Marion Forks. She peered over he hood of the car, seeing who was riding into town. She recognized one man out of the group. "Shit, it's Liam."

"You must've really pissed him off if he's coming here himself," Deacon remarks.

"I may have killed the last group of drifters he sent after me," she confesses. "Guess that was enough to get him off his ass. This makes our job easier."

"Come on out, (Y/n)! I know you can hear me, you bitch!" Liam shouted. "I also know St. John is with you! I recognize this damn bike from anywhere!"

The woman glanced at Deacon with a smirk as she whispered. "That must be you."

"Let's just say I took out some of his men, too, when they attacked the encampment," the drifter whispered back.

"Great. We're in the same boat."

Liam continued his shouting, attracting any Freakers in the area to his location. His fellow drifters killed the monsters before they could lay a hand on their leader. (Y/n) veered right while Deacon headed left. They snuck around using the various cars as cover to sneak up on the men and women, leaving Liam and the two men guarding him for last.

One by one, the drifters fell. Liam saw his loyal men and women fall. He grabbed his handgun and searched the area where they had fallen. He crept around a truck, hunting for (Y/n) and Deacon.

Suddenly, something leapt onto Liam's back and bit into his neck. He screamed at the top of his lungs as the creature sunk its teeth further into his neck. Blood trickled down his neck as he tried to pry the beast off him.

"Hope, down!" (Y/n) shouted as she emerged from behind a car and approached her companion. The border collie detached her teeth from Liam's neck and ran to the woman's side.

The man pressed his hand against his neck, desperately trying to stop the blood. He staggered, the blood loss taking its toll. He tried to aimed his weapon with a shaky hand as he stumbled closer to her. "F-Fucking mutt!"

Hope growled in response, baring her bloodied fangs. Before Liam could pull the trigger, a gunshot rang out. The drifter grunted, placing his other hand over his chest. With wide eyes, he collapsed to the ground.

(Y/n) turned around, spotting Deacon a few yards away. "Nice shot."

The canine barked jubilantly as she ran over to the drifter and hopped up onto her back legs, placing her front paws on his chest. He chuckled as he ran both of his hands through her black and white fur. She licked him on the face, making (Y/n) smile. The two headed back to the house with Hope in the lead.

<—————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Six months have passed since Deacon met (Y/n). He remained in contact with her and would often do jobs with her for the camps around Oregon. She would even share the eggs her hens laid. It was strange having eggs at first, but it provide Deacon and Boozer with a nice, steady flow of food regardless if they got tired of the taste.

One day, Deacon and Boozer were working on their bikes at the O'Leary Mountain safehouse. Their concentration was severed when they heard barking at the gate. The drifters tore their gazes from their motorcycles and saw a dog on the other side of the gate.

"Why is there a dog all the way out here?" Boozer questioned.

Deacon's eyes widened when he recognized the border collie. "That not just any dog. It's Hope."

"You... know the dog?" Boozer asked.

"She's (Y/n)'s dog."

"The egg lady?"

Deacon sighed. "Yes, the egg lady." He searched around, wondering where (Y/n) was. Hope would never wander off too far from the woman's side. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen. It would be strange to see her around since he didn't tell her about their safehouse because they'd always meet up at the encampments or her house in Marion Forks.

Hope continued to bark as Deacon made his way over to the gate. It automatically opened and the dog stormed over to him, grabbing the hem of his shirt between her teeth and trying to tug him out of the gate. "Whoa, girl. Calm down."

"I think she wants us to follow her," Boozer stated.

"Then let's follow."

Hope released Deacon's shirt when she saw he two men were following her. She led them down the dirt path and into a dense part of the woods. When the men heard a pained cry, they picked up the pace.

The canine ran as fast as she could with the men close behind her. She barked as they entered a small clearing and the cries crescendoed. Deacon glanced around as he saw bodies scattered across the clearing. "What the hell happened here?"

"Deek, over there," Boozer said as he spotted a figure on ground.

"Shit," Deacon muttered as he recognized the (h/c)-haired woman as another painful wail escaped her lips. He ran over to her with Hope by his side. The pooch licked her owner's face while the drifter saw the source of her pain. "Damn snares. What the hell are you doing this far from Marion Forks, (Y/n)?"

"Hunting," she whimpered in response. "It's easier hunting deer in the Cascade region than Belknap."

Boozer catches up and winced when he sees the woman's leg trapped in the teeth of a snare trap. "This isn't good." He examined the trap before meeting Deacon's gaze. "We'll have to work together. I'll pry the jaws open and you drag her out, alright?"

"Got it." Deacon walked behind (Y/n) and hooked his arms underneath hers. "Ready."

Boozer placed his hands between the metallic jaws of the snare and used all his strength to pry it open. When he managed to create enough space for (Y/n)'s foot, Deacon pulled her body back and freed her foot from the trap. She sighed in relief as the drifter kept ahold on her. "Holy shit..."

Deacon hauled (Y/n) to her feet, slinging one of her arms across his shoulder. "What's with all the dead bodies?"

"Fucking Marauders... I was in the middle of hunting when I stepped on the snare and got trapped. I managed to kill the bastards when they came out of the woodwork. Hope ran off to find some help, but I didn't expect her to bring you here."

Deacon wrapped his other arm around (Y/n)'s waist to prevent her from falling. "You're not far from O'Leary Mountain. We've a safehouse nearby."

"We've supplies. We can patch up your leg once we get back," Boozer added.

"Don't worry about me. I can patch up my leg when I get back to Marion Forks," the woman rebuttals.

"You'll get an infection before you can make it back. If you're worried about the amount of medical supply, don't. Last time I checked, you've been giving us food for the past six months," Deacon said.

"It's just eggs," (Y/n) huffs.

"It's still food," Boozer remarks. "Finally nice to meet the egg lady Deek keeps mentioning."

"Boozer..." Deacon growled in warning.

(Y/n) was more amused by the nickname than anything else and couldn't help but laugh. ""Egg Lady?" That's a first. You're not wrong, though."

Hope barked, seeking to agree with her owner. Boozer glanced at the border collie with a smile. "It's been a while since I've seen a healthy dog. Most of them are skin and bones."

"It's pretty easy to feed her. Not like people grabbed dog food off the shelves when the outbreak occurred. There's plenty of dog treats, toys, and food left."

"And you raise hens? That's the first I've heard about someone raising animals during the apocalypse," Boozer comments.

"The small farmhouse I live in was actually my parents'. I grew up raising hens, pigs, and cows. Morosely, only the hens survived the outbreak. The cows and pigs were easy pickings for the Freaks."

"You're not worried about Freakers breaking through the fence and eating them?" Deacon asked as he adjusted his grip on (Y/n) slightly.

"If it was an issue, those birds would already be dead. Hope's also been a huge help in keeping the Freaks away from the hens and the house. It's pretty quiet on the outskirts of Marion Forks."

The three continued chatting all the way back to the safehouse. The conversation distracted (Y/n) from the blood trickling down her leg and the immense waves of pain every few seconds.

With Deacon's help, she was able to make it to the top of the watchtower. He sat her down on his bed as Boozer and Hope entered the watchtower. The canine bounds over to (Y/n) and laid down by her feet. She raised her head, watching as Deacon collected antiseptic and gauze for her owner's tattered leg.

While Deacon tended to (Y/n)'s injury, Boozer made eye contact with Hope. He whistled for her and she leapt to her feet with a cheerful howl. She licked his hands and face as he patted her with a smile.

Boozer's interactions with Hope didn't go unnoticed by (Y/n). She was smiling from ear to ear at the sight. She grabbed Deacon's attention and told him to turn around to see his friend happily playing with the border collie. "Boozeman's always wanted a dog," the drifter said.

"Then I've got one hell of a surprise for you. Bring Boozer along the next time you come to visit. There's something I want to show you both."

"Now you've got my full attention, but I know you're not going to tell me what this "surprise" is."

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you. I also think Boozer will enjoy what I have in store. I'll even give you more eggs. I am the egg lady after all," (Y/n) snorted with laughter.

Deacon shook his head with a sigh. "It's one hell of a nickname."

"We better get going before night falls. We've got a long walk back to Marion Forks." (Y/n) stood up slowly, putting weight on her injured leg with a wince.

She didn't make it one step before Deacon stopped her. "Now hold on. You're seriously gonna try to walk all the way back to Marion Forks with that leg?"

"Well..."

Deacon grabbed her upper arms and forced her back into the bed. (Y/n) blinked owlishly as she found herself back on the bed with little to no effort. "You're out of your goddamn mind if you think I'm gonna even let you walk down the stairs with that leg. I'll give you a ride back to Marion Forks tomorrow, okay?"

"Uh, yeah," she responds. "But I only see two beds and I'm not—"

"Yes, you are," Deacon declared as he interrupted her. "I'll be fine."

"You're stubborn, I hope you know that," (Y/n) puffs out a sigh.

"Pretty sure you were the one who said we have to be in order to survive out there in the shit," he smirked triumphantly.

Another sigh passes through the woman's lips. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

<————————————<<<<<<<<<<<<

"Nice place," Boozer complimented as they arrived at (Y/n)'s house the next morning. Hope had hitched a ride with the buff man by sitting in front of him. The woman was amazed and shocked to see the seating arrangement had worked, but she was grateful for their help nonetheless.

"Your surprise awaits inside, Boozer," (Y/n) smirked as Deacon helped her off his bike and into the house. All the windows were boarded up and the inside was still completely furnished.

Hope bounded to one of the rooms down the hall located beside the kitchen. (Y/n) told Deacon and Boozer to follow the canine, knowing exactly who she was going to see.

Inside the bedroom, Hope's tail wagged wildly as she stood in front of a basket by the nightstand. Deacon and Boozer were bewildered of why the dog was cheerful. (Y/n) smirked as she unwraps her arms from around Deacon's shoulders and sat on her bed. She called Hope and when the dog listened, the secret was revealed. Six puppies were piled up and sleeping inside the basket.

"Holy shit..." Boozer muttered. He kneeled beside the litter and admired them. "It's been a long time since I've seen puppies."

Deacon remained silent as he was in utter shock at the revelation with wide eyes. (Y/n) was smugly grinning as she saw the look on the drifter's face. "Told ya it was going to be one hell of a surprise."

"How old?" Boozer asked as he petted one of the puppies.

"Nine weeks," (Y/n) replied. She glanced at Boozer with a hopeful glint in her eyes. "I was hoping you would take one."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Pick one."

Boozer glanced between the six and picked out one. He carried the puppy in his arms as it woke up and tried to lick him. He smiled as he held him close to his chest. "Hey, buddy."

Deacon eyed (Y/n) with a mix of emotions. "Can I, uh, talk to you in private?"

The woman nodded and stood up. "Sure. Let's head to the backyard." When she took a step forward, Deacon went to support her but she denied his help. "I'll be fine, Deacon."

They left the room and out the back door in the kitchen. In the backyard, they stood and watched the hens pacing around their pen. Deacon cleared his throat, breaking the silence between them. "You didn't have to do any of this, but you did. Guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for all you've done."

"I've ten hens who're practically laying eggs almost every day. It would be a waste of perfectly good eggs if I didn't share them with someone. As for the pup, well, I won't be able to take care of all of them when they grow up. I should be thanking you for taking one off my hands."

"What about the other five?" Deacon questioned.

"I'm going to visit Copeland to see if he or anyone else in the camp wants one. When they grow up, they'll be a good addition to the camp. I don't trust Tucker enough to let her take a pick so the Hot Springs is off the list."

"Couldn't agree more," Deacon said.

"I might also visit Lost Lake to see if Rikki or Mike are interested."

"You're not doing anything until that legs healed."

(Y/n) crossed her arms with a grin. "Knew you were gonna say that. You're the embodiment of chivalry. I hope you know that, Deek."

"I'm not chivalrous," he scoffed.

"Keep telling yourself that. Denial won't change the facts."

Suddenly, Deacon's radio blipped and he received a transmission from Tucker. The old woman has a job and wants him to swing by the Hot Springs. The drifter groaned as he told her he'd be there shortly. He rolled his eyes in vexation as he ended the call with Ada. He looked at (Y/n), seeing the smirk on her face. "I know that damn smirk." He pointed at her and his voice was lower than usual. "You are staying here."

She raised her hand and vowed. "I promise to not follow you."

"I'll be back soon. Don't push yourself too hard, alright?"

The woman raised her right hand higher. "I promise I won't push myself. You better get goin' before the old lady pops a gasket." She walked over to Deacon and placed her hand on his cheek while pressing a small kiss on the other. "Stay safe out there."

Deacon was caught off guard by the kiss, but he didn't let his true feelings come to the surface just yet. "I will." He turned around to leave and saw a smirking Boozer standing in the doorway with the puppy still in his arms. "Don't you fucking start."

Boozer continued to smirk. "I didn't say anything."

[writeraquamarinara]

Tagged by: @iconic-ponytail

Author Name: AquaMarinara

Where You Post: AO3

Fandoms You Write For: Riverdale

Most Popular Oneshot: The Dance Debacle has the most kudos/comments of any one of my one-shots, but hold my hand has the most hits/bookmarks.

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: Little Talks, by far.

Favourite Story You Wrote: Little Talks. I talk about it way too much because of just how much it meant to me when I wrote it, and how much it still means to me. I think writing in general is so personal, but it’s even more so when the feelings that the main character works through are your own, or were your own. It’ll be nice to read that fic back years from now and look back at the time in my life it’s based on.

Story You Were Nervous to Post: hold my hand, i’ll walk with you, my dear. It’s essentially all smut, and that was only the second time I’d ever written any. I still can’t go back and read it now because I get too embarrassed, lol.

How Do You Pick Your Titles: Some are song lyrics/titles, others are just based on what I’m feeling represents the story best, I guess.

How Many of Your Stories are complete: All of my one-shots are complete (lol obviously) and they make up a little more than 80% of my (posted) fics. I have a compilation of drabbles that’s marked as incomplete, but it always will be, because it’s just where I’m keeping my drabbles from now on. Little Talks is my only complete multi-chapter.

Do You Outline: Definitely. I didn’t when I first started out, but after writing Little Talks I became pretty much dependent on having one in order to keep all the different plot lines and threads organized in my head.

Do You Accept Prompts: … I currently have a bunch that haunt me in my tumblr inbox because it’s been months and I still have not answered them. If you feel like sending me any though, please be my guest! I haven’t been inspired to write in months and a good prompt might just help jumpstart my brain again. (I make no promises though, sorry.)

In-Progress: Of the fics posted to AO3, that would be Blue Sunshine and Golden Rain and Marion(ette). I also have others in development that I would love to be able to finish but have no time/inspiration for.

Upcoming Story You’re the Most Excited For: My immediate answer was Valhalla, but the problem is that I’m not excited enough to finish Valhalla right now, and I haven’t been for weeks.

Maybe I should post the first chapter and see if the feedback I get from that is enough motivation to keep going?? (I’m a slut for validation lbr.) Any thoughts on that? (if anyone’s even reading this, that is.) Maybe someone would like to help me get my excitement back by yelling about it in my DMs? Idk

Coming Soon: … I have not written in weeks. Send me prompts, yell at me online or in my DMs, ask for the first chapter of Valhalla if you like. Otherwise, absolutely nothing, would be the unfortunate answer.

Tag Other Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions: @dottie-wan-kenobi, @justcourbeau, @sheriff-snikety-snake, @secretsofthesky, @miss-eee, @heavy-lies-the-crown, @stirringsofconsciousness, @elizabethbettscooper, @raptorlily, @wolfofansbach, and anyone else who’d like to do this!

[maastrash]

please give me prompts of the cadre playing with little marion omg my heart

OF COURSE NONNIE hope you enjoy 💜 

this is a continuation of this elorcan request

Lorcan

Lorcan is a wonderful father

He could (and does) spend hours walking around the house with baby Marion

Marion’s a pretty fussy baby and one of the only ways to instantly calm her is to hand her to her father

She feels so safe and loved when she’s engulfed in his large arms 

He tells her so many stories

Stories of a brave mountain lion and stories of how he met her strong, beautiful mother

He would deny it if questioned but occasionally he even sings to his daughter

There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her

Fenrys

Let’s be real Fenrys is the cool uncle

He’s the one constantly buying Marion toys and clothes and literally everything

It gets to the point where Lorcan and Elide don’t even have space anymore

He’s also the one reading so many parenting books 

“Elide Lorcan did you know -”

“Fenrys would you shut up already”

When Marion’s a little older he’ll carry her as he transports places which she absolutely loves

He’ll also shift into his wolf form and let her ride on his back

Also imagine a little Marion calling him Uncle Moonie I’m dying

Rowan

Rowan is also amazing with Marion

Aelin and him will sometimes take her for the day when Elide and Lorcan need some “alone time”

When Aelin’s busy it’ll end up being just the two of them

He takes Marion everywhere from the park to the theater and eventually it becomes an annual thing

Monthly playdates with Uncle Rowan (I’m swooning)

One day Rowan and Aelin are sitting in the forest having a picnic with baby Marion and Aelin lets it slip that she’s ready to have a baby

“Well Rowan are you ready to have one of our own so we can stop stealing Marion from her parents?”

“Fireheart?”

“Let’s give Marion a friend”

EEk feel free to send me more requests about baby Marion I love it!!

[princessamericachavez]

prompt: marion packed jester a bunch of dresses but she accidentally packed one of hers. jester wears it and fjord forgets how to breathe.

“Oh my god!” Jester shouts and makes Beau nearly fall off the bed. 

“What?! What?!” Her friend reacts, jumping to her feet. “What happened?!”

“Look at this, Beau!” Jester exclaims excitedly, as she carefully pulls out a gorgeous pink dress from her bag. The fabric is light and sheer, the neck cut shamelessly deep and the corset has gorgeous gems embedded on it. 

“Holy shit! What’s that?”

“I think it’s one of my mom’s dresses! She must have packed it accidentally when she was making my bags!” Jester exclaims, pressing the dress to her face to feel the softness of it and smell the faint traces of her mother’s perfume. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“It’s super pretty,” Beau nods. “Oh, shit, you should totally try it on!”

“What?” Jester smiles, feeling her face blush. “No. I couldn’t. I’ve never tried one of her dresses before!”

“Why not, though? It’s not like she’s gonna wear it any time soon! C’mon, don’t you think that would be fun?”

“Oh, yeah, it would be... Okay! Okay, turn around and close your eyes.”

“Why? Jester, I’ve seen you naked before.”

“It’s a surprise, Beau!”

She waits until the monk reluctantly turns around to start taking her clothes off. Quickly, she undoes the ties of her dress and wiggles out of it before she steps inside the soft pink fabrics and starts putting it on.

“Okay, now help me tie it! Make sure to make it very tight!”

Beau’s fingers work quickly down the back of her corset, dexterous and strong, squeezing her tight until it’s almost hard to breathe. Jester makes her best to stand tall and hold her breath in. She wonders how her mother manages to sing inside this, and move so graceful and light. It’s not as easy as it looks. 

“Alright, alright, alright,” she turns around smiling, “how do I look like?”

“Hot,” Beau replies, without missing a beat, eyes running up and down her body before a playful grin spreads across her lips. “Oh, Ms. Sapphire!” She exclaims dramatically, bowing. “I was so lucky to make it to your show tonight! You were absolutely wonderful! May I, please, have this dance, m’lady?”

Giggling, Jester curtsies, holding her jaw high and proud. 

“Why, yes, you may, kind lady,” she says, taking Beau’s hand. 

They start dancing without music, giggling at their own clumsiness. Beau doesn’t know how to dance, but she tries her best and keeps making Jester spin around. 

Someone knocks on the door. Beau rushes to open it while Jester keeps spinning to make the flowy skirt fly around her like a flower’s petals. 

“Hey, what are you- woah, Jester.” 

Fjord’s voice makes her stop. The world keeps spinning a little around her as she tries to focus.

“Oh, hi, Fjord!”

“Wha- What are you wearing?”

“Oh, it’s just one of my mom’s dresses, you know?” She mumbles, smoothing it down with her hands. She tilts her head down to hide the sudden blush that spreads across her cheeks as she becomes extremely aware of the way the fabric hugs her blue skin and the deep cut between her breasts that nearly exposes her bellybutton. “Do you like it?” She asks, not looking up. 

“It’s- It’s very pretty,” she hears Fjord say. “You look beautiful.”

“Yeah?” Jester looks up, heart pumping loudly inside her chest. 

Fjord’s face is a darker shade of green than usual. He looks almost the same as he did back in the bathhouse. 

“Y-yeah, of course. It’s a very nice dress,” he mumbles. 

The dress. Of course. 

“It is, isn’t it?” She grins. 

“Yeah, but, Jester, don’t you think this might not be the best kinda place to be wearing that? I mean, if you go down to eat dinner looking like that...”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! I would just make everybody fall in love with me,” Jester chuckles nervously.

“Right,” Fjord deadpans.

Jester feels her heart drop a little but she nods. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll change.”

She starts taking it off immediately, just for the pleasure of watching Fjord react. He fumbles a little and then turns around facing the door.

“Jester!”

“Oh, please, Fjord. It wouldn’t be the first time you see me naked,” she teases. 

Beau sends her a betrayed look, but she seems as amused as she is. Without her having to ask, her friend helps her out of the fancy dress and back into her normal clothes.

“Okay, you can look now.”

“You sure?” Fjord asks, staring at the ceiling.

“Totally.”

It would be funny to lie to him, but she doesn’t want to make Fjord more uncomfortable. When he turns around, she’s fully clothed and putting the pretty dress away. She sighs sadly as her fingers let go of the rich fabric.

“You know,” Fjord says from the door, “we might be able to find somewhere you can wear that.”

“Really?!” She perks up, looking at him. 

“Maybe,” Fjord shrugs and smiles. “I’m sure there’ll be fancier parties up North in the capital. We could find one worthy of that dress.”

“I would like that very much,” she says, joining him and Beau at the hallway. 

As Beau rushes down the stairs, Fjord and her stay a little back. She recognizes that way he has of walking slower like he’s trying to get some privacy. 

“It is a very pretty dress, Jester,” he says giving her a side glance, “but, if I may say so myself, I like you better like this.”

“Oh,” Jester whispers confused as she blinks up at him. “Really?”

“Yes,” he shrugs as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You look like yourself. I don’t think you gotta dress up as anyone else to look nice, not even like your mom.”

Jester’s chest feels about to burst with warmth. She smiles and ducks her head again, hoping he can’t see the way her face burns all over again.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “Thanks, Fjord.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs. “Now, let’s go. I’m starving.”

She follows him, as she pockets the little note her mom hid inside the borrowed dress: I thought you may need this, in case your green friend needs a little nudge. 

Jester smiles to herself. Turns out, she doesn’t need it after all.

[orthographewrites]

💍

Send me ‘💍’ for our muses to wake up married after a night of heavy drinking:

How hadthey even come to the situation of filling their body up to the brim with alcohol?At starters, it had mostly been a case of Layken prompting him to do something worthwhilewith his day off, and the lack of contact he had faced with Marion these lastcouple of months had turned her into his first choice of fun. They were both busy people, work chewing more than a normalperson should be able to take – and thus, when they found a chance to match up,they took it.

One drinkhad become two, starting up with casual talk and some deep wisdom that neverfailed to leave the lips of Marion whenever she gained a chance to shower Simonwith it. Two drinks had become three and their conversation had instantlybecome more joyful than before – laughs, memories and gossip leaving them bothas they traveled through the evening. An impulsive drinking game on top of thathad brought them down on their knees for a short moment, forcing them to leavethe comfort of the pub to gain some fresh air.

All that,which had lead them to meet up with them. A small group of five people roamingthrough Montreal at the same pace as the two, and neither had craved muchintroduction before they had formed a group of seven instead to further intothe night. And past that point, everything was a literal blur for Simon. Andpossibly Marion alike.

Waking upwas anything but endearing, body and head heavy as a rock, screaming at him tostay still the second he tried to move away from the comfort of what was Marion’sbed. There was no blanket to push off, and thankfully that since he hadn’t evencared to remove his shoes before passing out, it seemed. A husky snore to hisleft made him push himself upwards, almost tipping off the bed straight awaywhile he tried to take in the sight of his current environment. Why was he inMarion’s bedroom? There was no reason for him to move further than her couch atmost, but neither was his head in a position to question it. Nothing had happened…right? Of course not… they were both taken and Marion wasn’t even interested inmen.

Simon wason his way to shift out of bed completely as to not wake Marion up, but thesight of something white against her firetruck red and messy locks made himstop for a second. Should he remove it? Hesitation struck, but seeing as thepaper was nested right by her ear it would only be the logical thing to assureshe didn’t have to deal with it later. Why was she even sleeping with a paperin bed? God… he was really dwelling too much already and his head couldn’t takeit. Reaching his hand out to grab for it, a sudden and golden sight on hisfinger made him stop as quickly as he had started. “What the f – “ Simon’s eyesnarrowed as he turned his hand around to stare at it, knowing fully well he hadnot been wearing anything close to it before setting out yesterday, and seeingas he was no man of jewelry it didn’t make much sense for him to have acceptedit randomly throughout the evening either. As Marion moved her head to the sideand pushed her face into the pillow, Simon didn’t hesitate any longer to pullthe paper to his hands – hoping for some sort of explanation to the ring being there.

And therewas.

“MARIONWHAT THE FUCK! WAKE UP!” His eyes had widened in shock, searching the paper fora sign telling him it was nothing but a prank. And barely had Marion opened hereyes and connected with his voice before he continued: “What do you remember from yesterday?Holy shit… holy shit…” Shock turned into panic as he pressed the paper her way,wishing to hear someone else read it up for him. Married? They couldn’t have…no, why would they have gotten married? It didn’t make sense. Of course theirhumor could be a bit… off unless you understood their reasons, but married? No,no he had Layken and Marion had Harlow. Unless – “It is legit? Please tell meit’s not legit… don’t get me wrong, you’re wonderful and all that but I do notwant to go home right now and tell my girlfriend I’m suddenly married to you. AndI have a feeling you don’t want to have that discussion with Harlow either.” Simon pursed his lips together, holding on for an answer. “Unless this is your secret plan to become a Meadows, but I can already assure you that my parents aren’t going to love you more for it.”   // @alicemorganwrites

[critmasexchange]

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PINCH HITS #5 - #9

PINCH HIT #5: CLAIMED

for darkhedgeknight

Request 1 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Grog Strongjaw Art General Audiences Prompts: Axe and ale.

Request 2 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Nott, Caleb Widogast Art General Audiences

Request 3 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Caduceus Clay Art No rating requested

Request 4 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Vex'ahlia (Critical Role) Art No rating requested

PINCH HIT #6: CLAIMED for DragonBandit

Request 1 by DragonBandit Fandom: Critical Role Campaign One   Pike Trickfoot Art or Fic

Request 2 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Mollymauk Tealeaf Art or Fic Any Rating

Request 3 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Group: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia Art or Fic Any Rating

Request 4 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Group: Vax'ildan/Shaun Gilmore Art or Fic Any Rating

Other information: DNWs: Any kinks involving bodily wastes, Noncon/dubcon, Incest, Significant age gaps/underage relationships., Drugs (save for medicinal ones), Permanent character death, Character-bashing, Mundane AU’s (coffee shop/Highschool), Issue-fic, Crossovers, Excessive gore, PolyAmory, Grimdark Angst, hurting characters for the sake of hurting them.

My rarepair that needs more love after it got so brutally sunk. I would prefer if Vax and Keyleth never dated, or if they remain good friends if they dated previously. I also don’t want any past relationships to be the focus. Other than that, have fun!

Link to Dear Critter Letter http://coinmanatee.dreamwidth.org/595.html

PINCH HIT #7: CLAIMED for PresAlex

Request 1 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caleb Widogast, Jester (Critical Role) Art Any Rating Prompts: Hello! I would love some art of jester and molly making flower crowns with/for caleb and each other !!

Request 2 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Keyleth (Critical Role), Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Group: Keyleth/Vex'ahlia Art Any Rating Prompts: Just Keyleth and Vex cuddling and being cute!

Request 3 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Group: Pike Trickfoot/Scanlan Shorthalt Art Any Rating

Request 4 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Group: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast Art Any Rating

PINCH HIT #8: CLAIMED for The_Playground_of_Alcor

Request 1 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Group: Keyleth/Grog Fic Mature, Explicit Prompts: Prompt Idea 1: Kiki and Grog get trapped in close confines, and find "interesting" ways to pass the time as they wait for their party to save them. Prompt Idea 2: Turns out, Goliaths have a regular mating season. That would have been good to know before Keyleth agreed to accompany Grog on his hunting trip. Prompt Idea 3: The pair are elected to attend a party undercover to get some intel on a local lord. Nobody realized that most of the party would consist of an orgy. Well, when in Emon... Prompt Idea 4: The pair wake up in bed together. Surely, they didn't *do* anything after getting drunk last night... Right?

Request 2 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One   Group: Keyleth & Grog Fic Any Rating Prompts: Prompt Idea: Keyleth tries a new spell, one that will let her "see through another's eyes", and tries it out on Grog. Prompt A-1: She finds the spell fuses her with her target, i.e., Grog. Prompt A-2: She finds the spell swaps her soul and mind with that of her target, i.e., Grog.

Request 3 Fandom:Critical Crossovers   Group: Beauregard/Keyleth Fic Mature, Explicit Prompts: Prompt Idea 1: Beau spots a beautiful, if unsure, redhead bearing a circlet with antlers across the bar. With any luck, her headdress isn't the only thing that's a bit horny about her. (Sorry, it was right there, I had to) Prompt Idea 2: Keyleth finds herself tasked with introducing a new recruit to the tribe of the Air Ashari. Now, if only this woman would stop flirting for just a few minutes...

Request 4 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Group: Beauregard/Jester (Critical Role) Art or Fic Any Rating

PINCH HIT #9: CLAIMED for sarahdoodles

Request 1 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Group: The Gentleman/Marion Lavorre, Group: Jester (Critical Role) & Marion Lavorre Jester (Critical Role) The Gentleman (Critical Role) Art or Fic General Audiences Prompts: Something soft and fluffy of Jester and her parents; maybe when she’s still a baby and the Gentleman hasn’t left yet. Feel free to hit it with some gentle angst too if you’re feelin it.

Request 2 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Group: Captain Avantika/Fjord, Captain Avantika (Critical Role), Fjord (Critical Role) Art or Fic Mature, Explicit Prompts: Give me a spicy scene between Fjord and Avantika— I’d love to see something of their first night together, but Fjord keeping her “distracted” while in dark tow would also be great haha. And a blushy Fjord is a big plus!

DNW: non-con/dub-con, bdsm

Request 3 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Group: Beauregard/Keg (Critical Role), Beauregard (Critical Role), Keg (Critical Role) Art or Fic Any Rating Prompts: Beau and Keg flirting with each other, embarrassing both each other and themselves; possibly in front of the rest of the gang? Just for the hilarity of it haha.

Request 4 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two   Group: Caleb Widogast & Nott, Caleb Widogast, Nott, Frumpkin (Critical Role) Art or Fic General Audiences, Teen And Up Audiences