Sing Me To Sleep

A Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir fanfic
Summary: In which Marinette nurses a concussed Chat back to health. Unabashed MariChat fluff.
Snippet: Marinette observed him briefly as he reclined on the couch, eyes closed with a look of self-satisfied contentment on his features. She was tempted to snap at him and tell him not to get too comfortable – she wasn’t going to wait on him hand and foot indefinitely – his cockiness definitely didn’t need any bolstering. But he just looked so peaceful, like he was right at home and this was the most natural place in the world for him to be. ‘I wonder how mom and dad would feel about taking in a stray cat…’

Originally posted on and on 03/26/17, reposted here since I want to make my more memorable one-shots available on tumblr.

Pinks and yellows, frills and lace, sparkles and glitter – these were the things cherished most by the merry toddler as she twirled about the room in her favorite dress-up tutu. Today she was Princess Belle, beloved by all her plush animal subjects in the kingdom of her living room. An elaborate spread lay in front of her as she danced, so she was careful to avoid the delicate plastic teacups and the croissant Maman and given her for her afternoon snack. Her world of make-believe was full of sunshine and rainbows, despite the grey and wet atmosphere that hung around her ‘castle’.

Rain began to patter against the windows, but she fancied it to be the sound of the court minstrel striking up a jolly jig for the beloved princess to dance to. As her pace quickened, she became lost in her performance, her adoring subjects cheering for their beautiful leader to dance faster and faster. It was in her fervor that she forgot to carefully check each step before she made it, so when a flash of bright light shone in her peripheral, her distraction cost her an unfortunate misstep and she found herself tumbling headfirst into her tea party. The clap of thunder that followed rattled her nerves even farther, and soon the shock of her fall gave way to the realization that she was in pain, and scary loud monsters were coming to storm the castle.

“Marinette! What’s the matter?” her most loyal knight hastened to her side, leaving his post in the kitchen, where he had been working on preparing that night’s royal feast.
Through sniffles and sobs, the child fell into “Her royal knight, Sir Papa!”’s consoling embrace and first chastised him for getting her title wrong – again. “I’m not Marinette; I’m the princess!”
With a soft chuckle, Papa argued, “Every daughter is a princess, so even if I don’t always call you my princess, you always will be, mon petite Marinette.” Rubbing her nose affectionately with his own until she giggled, he then repeated, “Now tell me, Princess Marinette, what seems to be the trouble?”

Keep reading

Hidden Priest (Cleric Archetype)

Any campaign setting is no doubt a big place, full of all sorts of cultures and creatures, so it would only make sense that these differences would create unique challenges, some of which cause more trouble to some than most.

In this case, I’m talking about regions and cultures that despise divine magic, or perhaps divine magic from a certain source. In such places, clerics may be targets of bigotry or state-sanctioned violence and the like, such as in Golarion’s nation of Rahadoum, which has rejected all gods after a religious war devastated the nation.

However, despite such forbiddance, faith persists, and there are those, whether as a blanket ban or a more targeted ban against a specific faith, channel divine power in secret. These hidden priests learn to mimic other forms of spellcasting, though in truth they still gain their power from a divine source.

These priests often choose an arcane casting theme to mimic, hiding their divine spells with such effects, such as learning to cast their curatives into fluids to pretend to be an alchemist, using song to mimic a bard, or arcane jargon to mimic other arcane casters. They can still cast spells normally of course, but pretending they are from an arcane source does require them to put their knowledge to good use to make it believable. However, no matter how passable their magic is, it remains divine, and therefore, requires a divine focus. Thankfully, they often have holy symbols integrated subtly into their equipment, such as tattoos hiding a symbol in the patterns, amulets that seem secular, but hide a holy mark, and so on.

Masterful hidden priests even can call upon a reserve to cast their spells without gestures or words entirely, making them seem like happenstance or random miracles rather than the work of a cleric.

An archetype mostly meant for story reasons, this option is great for playing a cleric in a region where they are frowned upon, or even playing a cleric of an unpopular religion, such as a goodly cleric in an evil nation, or vice versa. Pick your arcane cover carefully, however. While the average layperson may not see the difference, using healing while pretending to be a sorcerer, wizard, or arcanist may tip off the knowledgeable, rather than pretending to be a bard, alchemist, or witch.

The wording of this archetype makes no mention of other types of arcane casters beyond bards, alchemists, sorcerers and wizards, which to me seems very limited. These clerics could easily mimic witches, and in theory summoners if they focus on summoned and called allies. Psychic magic, on the other hand, is trickier, since it is often less well-known than other forms of magic, and is naturally silent and still, something that these priests can only mimic so often.


Forbidding all worship save for that of their god-king, the fire giant overlords of Fernash rule over smaller races and other giants alike. There are those, however, that resist, particularly priests of the Chainbreaker, who are no strangers to hiding in plain sight. Teaching others to do the same, they pose as simple chirugeons and alchemists, the regulation on volatile reagents meaning nothing to their false alchemy.

The party has come to rely on the aid of the centaur mystic Chirodenas and his potent divination magics. However, eventually it comes out that he is no master of the arcane, but rather a priest of the star-goddess. Why he chooses to hide the nature of his craft is a mystery they will need to solve quickly, for his enemies muster against him.

Sent searching for a cult leader of the Eternal Feasting Maw, the party has been led from city to city and nation to nation, destroying seemingly abandoned altars of the dark god. However, they soon discover that the altars are not dedicated to him, but rather, against him, and the court minstrel that set them on this path begins displaying some very un-bard-like abilities.

The connection between [the productive] forces and [the social] relations is an illuminating one. Among other things, it allows us to recognize that you can only have certain social relations if the productive forces have evolved to a certain extent. If some people are to live a lot more comfortably than others, you need to produce a sizable economic surplus; and this is possible only at a certain point of productive development. You cannot sustain an immense royal court complete with minstrels, pages, jesters, and chamberlains if everyone has to herd goats or grub for plants all the time just to survive.

The class struggle is essentially a struggle over the surplus, and as such is likely to continue as long as there is not a sufficiency for all. Class comes about whenever material production is so organized as to compel individuals to transfer their surplus labor to others in order to survive. When there is little or no surplus, as in so-called primitive communism, everyone has to work, nobody can live off the toil of others, and so there can be no classes. Later, there is enough of a surplus to fund classes like feudal lords, who live by the labor of their underlings. Only with capitalism can enough surplus be generated for the abolition of scarcity, and thus of social classes, to become possible. But only socialism can put this into practice.

—  Terry Eagleton

Happy Birthday, supernaturallynoble! This is for you: “Once Upon A Mattress” Destiel AU

Castiel didn’t know what to do. He had to marry Dean, he just had to. He would have already asked for Dean’s hand if it wasn’t for his awful mother, Queen Naomi.

The Queen had gotten it into her head long ago that no princess would be good enough for her son, nor good enough to ascend the throne (it was only a coincidence that the Queen would be forced to abdicate once Prince Castiel married… Yeah, complete coincidence).

For many years, princesses had come and gone, each one failing the tests and trials the Queen had given them.

“If a girl can’t recite our entire genealogy from memory Castiel, well then… she isn’t a true princess is she?” Naomi reminded him as yet another princess was sent away.

Castiel dismally accepted his mother’s decisions. If he was honest, he didn’t feel anything vaguely strong for any of the girls paraded his way. He did wish, though, that he would one day find someone whom he could fall in love with. Someone caring and genuine. Someone who saw him as more than just a crown and a title

Then, one stormy night, Dean arrived. Prince Dean of House Winchester, Heir to the Marshland Kingdom.

Keep reading


Nicu; Tumble; Old Jinny; Queen Avalea of Mista; the Silly Three; and Eliot, the Court Minstrel of Whimtany.

TRICK Inspiration #4: Sidekicks and Sweetings

Photo credits in captions