bbcmusketeerskink

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round 2

Round 2

Welcome to the BBC The Musketeers kink meme

The lowdown: You post your prompt, anon or not. Someone else will hopefully fill it (also anon or not). Not for profit, just for fun. And in this case, for king and country.

Anon is on, IP logging is off.

Rules:
No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
No prompts with characters under the age of 16 in sexual situations, please.
Please keep the discussions in the prompt post to a minimum. We have a discussion post

Mandatory trigger warnings/warnings for both prompts and fills:
non-con/dub-con
abuse (physical and mental)
issues such as racism, sexism, homo-/trans-/-bi-/ace-phobia etc
character death
suicide
self-harm
eating disorders
extreme physical or mental illness
substance abuse (alcohol, drugs, medication)
bullying
gore and horror

If this list misses anything, do let me know, though please understand that if absolutely everything is added this list will never end.

You are encouraged and advised to add additional warnings at your own discretion.

Please make use of the subject line.

If your prompt alludes to the book or any of the other adaptations, please let us know which one.

Lastly, prompt freezes (which I have to say I’m really not fond of) etc will be at the mod’s discretion. I will decide on a prompt cut-off point for prompt posts once I know how fast the meme moves.

Archive:
https://delicious.com/bbcmusketeers

Discussion post:
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html

Official fill post (I strongly suggest you use it for better visibility of your fills):
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html

Mod contact post
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html

New updates:
- Extras fill post for the free for all rounds (as much as I hate dividing the meme even more.)
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1823.html

- To answer a question going around in the discussion post, here's a small guideline: If you're unsure about something, either decide by yourself how you want to fill it and see if OP likes it or not or communicate with OP via aksing questions.

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Author's Note: I am very drunk, so any mistakes are the fault of the wine, not mine.

Belle, as she came to be called ironically by the men of the garrison, was the ugliest cat to be found in all of France. With a muddy coat sprinkled liberally with bald patches, glittering yellow eyes, and wicked claws, she had taught many a man a lesson about sitting in her spot or attempting to kick her out of the way. Half the garrison wore scars of her lessons as badges of pride. Treville doted on her, and, despite the men’s many askance looks and raised eyebrows, claimed that she was a good kitty. And, indeed, with Treville, she seemed as loving as a newborn babe. She would mrrow at his leg, pawing at his leg hopefully, and bump her head into his outstretched hand, flickering her tail in smug satisfaction as she surveyed the troops with her loyal master.

The men silently plotted their revenge on her.

“What?” Porthos yelled, and the others came running to find a wet mess, Belle curled up in the middle of it, licking a new litter of kittens as ugly as she was. Their eyes were squinted shut, fur still damp, and they cried plaintively at their mother. Porthos groaned in protest. “On my bed? Why not Aramis’s?”

“Oh, come on, Porthos,” Aramis chided, glancing over his shoulder. “They’re kind of cute.”

He stretched out a hand, but a low growl from the new mother had him hurriedly snatching it back. “Besides,” he added, “They’ll be gone in a little bit.”

D’Artagnan, who seemed to have reached some sort of accord with Belle, was gently running a finger across the fuzzy skull of one of the kittens. “I wonder where they came from?”

Aramis and Porthos exchanged glances.

“Well, when a daddy cat loves a mommy cat very much,” Aramis began.

D’Artagnan rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Who’s the father?”

“No doubt that tom that’s been hanging around,” Athos commented drily from the corner, disdaining to ooh and aww over the litter of kittens. “The black and white one?”

They knew the tom. They knew the tom and hated the tom with a passion only men wakened every night for a week from the loud, boastful cries of a tomcat scenting a queen in heat could muster. There were eight paws, three and a half ears, and one tail between Belle and the tom both, and the outcome of their dalliance looked to be the ugliest litter of bastard kittens ever to be born.

Belle hissed, letting them know they had admired her brood long enough, and even D’Artagnan backed up to let them be.

“Cheer up,” Aramis said, clapping a hand on Porthos’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll give you your bed back in a week or so.”

It ended up being two weeks, and no amount of scrubbing could remove the stain of kitten-birth from his bed linens.

"Not again," Porthos said, eyeing Belle's swollen, swaying belly as she sashayed across the courtyard. They had all been nervously eyeing her growing girth, certain that another batch of kittens was on the way. Treville had beamed like a proud papa after the first litter, dubbing them all and taking two home to his children. The others had dispersed throughout the garrison, guarding the larder from rats and stealing bits of food from soft-hearted Musketeers as they could.

D'Artagnan's upper lip curled. "Jaune left a dead rat in my bed last time."

With growing anticipation, they began zealously guarding their beds and plotting other arrangements, leaving conspicuous nests of old, soft cleaning rags and moth-worn blankets in warm corners, hoping to distract Belle from the beds.

When Belle disappeared for several days, they smiled in relief, patting each other on the back. Surely she had found one of the nests located in a dark corner of the ammunitions room, safe from prying eyes.

Content in such knowledge, they let down their guard, and it was with some surprise that Aramis sat down on his bed and jumped up suddenly, letting out a "Euuch!" in surprise.

A hiss followed, and he hesitantly lifted the bedspread to see Belle curled up around three skinny bodies nursing avidly at her teats.

"This is getting ridiculous," Aramis said, visibly weighing the ramifications of kicking Treville's darling, ever-spawning cat from his bed.

"Only a week," Porthos shot back victoriously, and Aramis spared him a grimace.

D'Artagnan peered under the blanket. "Less than that," he said. "They look less ... fresh then the last batch."

Leaning over his shoulder, Athos peered at the mewling bodies curiously. "And a different father."

"Oh, has Belle found herself a new beau?" Aramis said solicitously. "How wonderful for the little demon."

"I'd think you'd be more congratulatory, seeing how you tomcat around yourself," Athos noted.

Aramis threw up his hands. "What am I supposed to do for the next week?"

Porthos grinned. "There's a cozy little nest in the ammunitions room..."

Ahaha! I wonder whose bed she'll pick next.

Oooohhhh I love cats and kittens! They are my favorite animal, so cute this story, I want to hug Belle and all the kittens

Hee! I love Treville's absolute lack of concern with their outrage. This fic is hilarious.

I lied. Sorry. This was neither written sober nor posted when I said. Hope you like anyway!

“There must be something we can do,” d’Artagnan said as Belle strode by, her ungainly stomach swollen to grotesque proportions. The others watched her leave with apprehension.

“Drowning,” Porthos muttered darkly, refusing to be cowed by d’Artagnan’s quelling glare. “Works a treat. Never have a problem after it.”

“Yes, but if Treville ever found out…” Aramis trailed off ominously, and they all nodded glumly. Despite the dire threats and conspiratorial whispers, no one dared lay a hand on her, protected as she was by Treville’s blind adoration. Short of her meeting an unfortunate accident – which had been tried many times – Belle was here to stay, and apparently here to bring kittens to all of France. Even d’Artagnan had lost her favor, and nearly his hand, when he had made the mistake of dislodging her accidentally from under his bed while reaching for his boots.

Athos shook his head at their dark mood. “It’s a cat,” he said. “She’s not that bad.”

It was that small statement that drew the attention of Fate, who deigned to teach a certain Musketeer a thing or two about tempting her. Less than a week after the dark discussion, Athos came in to gather his hat, tossed carelessly onto his bed.

Curled in the center, and nursing one outrageously fat kitten, sat Belle. Athos stopped short at the door, staring at the tableau. Belle stared back with a challenge in her eye, then squeezed her eyes shut and dismissed him.

“That,” Athos growled, advancing with one hand on his sword, “is my best hat.”

“Athos,” d’Artagnan fretted, while Aramis watched with a delighted grin.

“That hat,” Athos continued unheeding, “is perfectly fitted to my head and you are bending it out of shape.”
Sensing the change in atmosphere, and perhaps realizing she had gone too far, if such a thing is possible for a beast of the feline persuasion, Belle sat up in alarm, dislodging her kitten. The ball of fuzz and fur mewled and snuggled deeper into the folds, stretching out one tiny paw, adorned with needle-sharp kitten claws, and with an air of unconcern at its daring, stuck one claw deep into the fabric. There was an indrawn breath from the Musketeers, then the sound of a hat being delicately ripped.

Athos lunged.

With a quickness honed by years of living on the streets, Belle leapt from her nest and scurried between Porthos’s legs and out the door. Athos slammed into Porthos, pushing him aside and following the streak of mud-brown fur as it sprinted across the courtyard, jumped onto the balcony, and leapt onto the stairs. Athos followed less athletically, though no less ardently, and found himself in Treville’s office, the captain sitting behind his desk, pen in the air, and a bemused expression.

Belle sat behind Treville’s legs, her crooked tail wound around her body and eyes squinted shut in smug satisfaction. With a disdainful look, she flipped onto her back and delicately lifted her hind leg into the air, licking at her nether regions with an air of contempt. Athos was brought up short, glaring at the beast before straightening into attention.

“Permission to kill your cat, sir.”

Treville raised an eyebrow. “Permission denied,” he drawled. “What’s she done that’s a killing offense?”

“Rampant fornication,” Aramis offered, coming up from behind him.

“Disrespect to the uniform?” came the suggestion from Porthos.

“Attacked a Musketeer,” d’Artagnan said, still resentfully nursing his wounded hand.

Treville raised one eyebrow, turned to stare at Belle, who mrrowed plaintively, then turned back to his Musketeers. “I suspect you’re overreacting.”

“I am reacting,” Athos stressed, “perfectly rationally to an insane situation. My hat!”

This was all he could bring himself to say on the situation, and Aramis put a hand on his shoulder commiseratively.

Treville dropped a hand and Belle obediently trotted to it, bumping her head against his fingers and begging for a scritch behind her ears. The sound of loud purring filled the room. “What’s she done to your hat, Athos?”

“She had a kitten in it!”

“Another one!” Treville almost smiled. He stared down at the cat. “Aren’t you a busy one?”

“Sir, if I might suggest?” Porthos stepped forward. “You seem quite taken with the cat, and I’m worried that she may… come astray of a horse at the wrong moment, or get underfoot if we’re needed quickly. Perhaps your children wouldn’t mind having an extra pet? She’s a damned good mouser, too.”

The obviousness of this suggestion was suddenly, in that peculiar way of hindsight, apparent; they all stared at Porthos in admiration of the plan. Athos even consented to drop his hand from his hilt and tore his glare away from the Devil’s familiar.

“The girls would love another cat,” Treville mused. “Very well, I’ll see if I can talk Adele into it. In the meantime, you are dismissed.”

They turned to leave, pausing when Treville said, “Oh, and Athos?”

Athos turned back inquisitively.

“Let the kitten be. It’ll only be a week.”

Op here

I absolutely love this story! Thank you so much for filling it

Op here

I absolutely love this!!!!

Aww, glad you like it - I'm posting the next part later today (as a surprise to myself and probably everyone who knows me, it will be both written and posted sober!). - Author anon

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Round 2

It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty - Gen - Kittehs!

It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty 2/3 - Gen - Kittehs!

Re: It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty 2/3 - Gen - Kittehs!

Re: It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty 2/3 - Gen - Kittehs!

Re: It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty 2/3 - Gen - Kittehs!

It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty 3/3 - Gen - Kittehs!

Re: It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty 3/3 - Gen - Kittehs!

Re: It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty - Gen - Kittehs!

Re: It's No Wonder Her Name Means Beauty - Gen - Kittehs!