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Heyo, shippers!
If you find that your posts do not show up in the tags, feel free to send them to us, either as an ask with a link (replace the dots with spaces) or to one of the mods, @papercrane-wish or @alleyskywalker!
Happy Courfiusweek!! Have fun!! Enjoy the content!! ^_^
PS: Remember to put one of the tags in the first five tags and that you only need to use one of the tags!
just made it in time for courfeyrac/marius week! :D
My piece for this year’s Courfeyrac/Marius week! Man, it’s been such a long time since I drew these kids. Marius stop translating and get some f*cking sleep
Courfius week 2018 day 1: Supernatural
That feel when you unfairly attractive new roommate invites you to hang out with his friends then puts his hand on yours.
Based on the contemporary fantasy AU fic I’m currently working on featuring witches Courfeyrac and Marius.
You guys should be proud of me for drawing an actual background for once.
Do you know if anyone is planning a Courfeyrac/Marius week?
Ah, that’s one of my favorites, too, nonny!
To the best of my knowledge, the last time it ran was in September of 2015. I know @bootsssss used to run it, but I don’t know if they’re planning to do so again or not. If not, there’s nothing saying that you can’t pick it up, though, nonny! ^_^ I know I’d be happy to see it back on the calendar, too!
For that matter, if anyone is looking to run a week and needs some inspiration, you can go back a few years in the calendar. We used to have a LOT more fandom weeks and exchanges and they were pretty fun and they’re all still listed on the actual calendar. ^_^
eirenical replied to your post “Quick, somebody give me Courfeyrac/Marius prompts so I can at least do...”
I'm struggling to get something done myself. O_o;;; Maybe Marius doing something nice for Courfeyrac as a thank you for taking him in? Like cooking him dinner or something?
Whoops this turned out rather silly.
Marius gives a guilty start and instinctively moves to cover his work as he hears Courfeyrac enter his apartments. Their apartments now, he supposes, but it will take more than a handful of days for him to believe it.
Courfeyrac raises his eyebrows and Marius abandons his futile attempt to hide his culinary efforts.
“Are you inviting guests for dinner?” asks Courfeyrac. “I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I don’t,” says Marius morosely. “I had thought- I had wanted-” He stops and glares at the meat he’s been cutting up as though it were to blame for his present predicament. “You have been very kind to me. I thought maybe I could do something in return. I made my own meals in the early days of our acquaintance and I thought I could – I thought it would be easy to make dinner for you.”
“A kind thought,” says Courfeyrac. “And very practical. I take it there were difficulties?”
Marius sighs deeply. “I don’t know how to do anything more than apply heat. I went to the market, I bought meat as I always have, and it only occurred to me once I’d returned that there’s more to a meal than that. I don’t know the first thing about spices, even if I had any. I could barely afford the meat most weeks, let alone anything with it. The only beast I’m fit to cook for is a dog, or a man living like one.”
Courfeyrac pats him gently on the back. “Don’t be so distressed, dear fellow. I was just coming back to ask if you wanted to dine with me at the Café Voltaire tonight. Let me take you to dinner and let someone else worry about the ways of spices and side-dishes.”
That feels a great deal like defeat. “Then I would be even more in your debt,” Marius protests. “I am supposed to be balancing the weights, not adding to them. There must be something I can do for you.”
Courfeyrac makes a great show of thinking the matter over. “Perhaps you ought to give me a kiss; it might transform me into a prince. Then I could oust old Louis-Phillippe and become king myself. That would be an excellent favor. My first act will be to abolish the monarchy. I will take the crown’s jewels and sell them all to pay for schools and hospitals – excepting of course a small portion which I will set aside to buy a comfortable townhome for my accomplice, Marius Pontmercy, so that he may live as pleasantly as can be and invite his old friend Citizen Courfeyrac over for dinner from time to time.”
Marius manages a weak smile. “The way things have been going, I’m afraid my kiss is more likely to turn you into a fellow pauper. Then we’d both be homeless.” He tries to sound as casual as Courfeyrac, tries to make the word “kiss” have no more weight than any other. Courfeyrac will laugh at him if he knows what sort of effect his suggestion has had on Marius.
“Ah well, better a pauper than a ‘de’,” says Courfeyrac philosophically. “We can turn our coats into cloaks and proclaim ourselves a pair of modern day Diogeneses. I would say a Crates and Hipparche, but I fear that will take more than kissing. Still, either way we shall come out ahead, philosopher, king, or both. I say we chance it.” He raises a single perfect eyebrow in inquiry.
Marius can feel his ears turning red. It’s likely nothing to Courfeyrac; he’s seen Courfeyrac kiss his friends in greeting and parting or mere excitement at a well-chosen word or clever argument. But Marius has never had friends he wished to kiss, not until he met Courfeyrac. And now…
Before his courage can fail him, he leans in and quickly brushes his lips against Courfeyrac’s. He has the satisfaction of seeing Courfeyrac blink in surprise as he pulls away.
“Well?” asks Marius, voice trembling only a little. “Have I turned you into a prince or a pauper?”
Courfeyrac blinks once more, gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and in another moment he seems his usual self again. “Neither – you have transformed me into a sous-chef. An overlooked property of kisses, much neglected by storytellers. You have provided the meat, I have my own stock of spices, and between the two of us we can make a respectable showing. There is only one problem remaining.”
“What’s that?” asks Marius,
“Why, you will have overpaid me – both dinner and a kiss when I was only due one for the evening. You will have to let me pay you back before we make out the receipts.”
Marius considers this. “I suppose you’re right,” he says with mock solemnity. “I wouldn’t want to put you in a difficult position.”
“It would be quite ungentlemanly of you,” agrees Courfeyrac. “Make your demands, Monsieur Pontmercy.”
“Well…” he says, slowly, “now that we know what happens when I kiss you, perhaps we should see what happens when you kiss me.” He can’t quite make himself look Courfeyrac in the eye and his face feels as though it’s on fire, but the words are out and there’s no taking them back.
“How enterprising of you!” says Courfeyrac approvingly. “Of course, if we want proper scientific results, we’ll have to try to replicate them. Many times, I should imagine.”
“That’s the only responsible thing to do,” agrees Marius.
Then Courfeyrac is kissing him, and neither of them has anything to say for a great while after.
maybe this is too vague, but if you're into it: maybe some Courfeyrac Is Dead angst? :)
oh nooooooooo :(
“Papa says I must have cornflowers in my bouquet.”
“Then you must,” Marius agrees. He smiles at Cosette and shesmiles back at him, glowing and happy and more beautiful than he can ever makehimself believe. “Are they traditional?”
Cosette blinks twice and tilts her head, a gesture Mariushas come to know means that she’s unsure. “I don’t think so. Papa says they’refor my mother.”
“Oh. Did she like cornflowers?”
Another blink. “I don’t know that either. Papa says– ”Cosette catches the repetition and blushes slightly, glancing down at her feet.“I don’t know what my mother liked. But my Papa always knows best. And he says thather eyes were blue like mine. Blue like cornflowers.”
There’s a solemn air around Cosette now, a melancholy Mariushad sometimes seen in the garden before he spoke and brought a smile to herface. He takes her gently in his arms and kisses her cheek, soft and chaste, inthe hopes that will bring her smile back now.
“I will bring you a whole garden’s worth of cornflowers, ifyou ask it of me,” he promises. “We’ll cover the church in them, from entranceto altar.”
She gives a quiet giggle, so soft as to almost be a sigh. “Idon’t think cornflowers grow in gardens. Aren’t they wild?”
“So are Cosettes,” he tells her, “but I found one in agarden all the same.”
She shakes with silent laughter and pulls gently out of hisarms. “There’s so much to plan, and I don’t think I can remember half of it. Idon’t know what I would do if Papa and Grandfather weren’t determined to manageeverything.”
“Determined indeed. I heard them at it yesterday, arguingover who would give you away.”
She gazes at him fondly. “My Papa, of course. He found mefirst. Oh Marius, he is so good, I cannot wait for you to love him as I do. Butwe will find a place for your dear grandfather in the party, unless you wishit otherwise. There’s still plenty of place to spare. Little Julie from theconvent said she would be my maid of honor, but I’ve no one else to add. Do youhave a best man?”
Memory strikes without warning and leaves him breathless. Softbrown curls, a lazy smile under eyes sparkling with wit and good humor. A clevercomment whispered in his ear for him alone, traces of warm breath making Mariusblush as much as the joke. Quick and clever hands straightening his cravat,pushing back his hair, running tenderly down the line of his face. Teasingkisses, fraternal greetings growing bolder, a warm mouth pressed against hisown as he fights back sounds of pleasure. Gunshots. Cold. Darkness.
It’s several moments before he can find the words to speak. “Mycousin,” he says at last. “My cousin – I – I know his name, it will come – giveme a moment – ” His face feels strange. He brings a finger to his cheekswithout thinking and it comes away wet. He stares at it, unable to make hismind work. Cosette reaches out a hand for him and he takes it, but the the restof his body feels frozen in place. Frozen in time, perhaps, trapped between atoo-soon-lost then and a too-fast-won now.
“Theodule,” he finally says. “My cousin’s name is Theodule.I will ask him.”
I think I’m a bit late for Courfeyrac and Marius Week (blame school) but I painted something anyway.
(Courfeyrac is *meant* to have a slight smile by the way, but I don’t think it really shows.)
