#bbc musketeers fanfiction

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Pot Plant Sister

A/N: Hello my sweetest people. I have finally gotten myself to writing, hallelujah! This fanfiction is especially dedicated to the most wonderful @cas-kingdom. I really wanted to write for the BBC Musketeers again. Aramis’ sister is 12 years old and her favourite thing in the world is not doing what her brother tells her to do.

You were once again doing what your brother had told you not to do.

Apparently window sills were not meant for people to perch on. They were meant for pots of flowers or for glasses or for drinks you preferred to consume cold. But not for curious musketeer sisters who wanted to hear what Captain Treville was saying to his soldiers.

Whether you brother was worrying you might fall down – Aramis, please, you scoffed in your mind – or whether he simply did not want you to eavesdrop on things he feared you might imitate – it was one time and shooting at things with your hat covering my eyes wasn’t actually the worst I could have imitated, your mind rambled on – you did not know for certain why he didn’t want you to perch on the sill.

Porthos had once kindly suggested they buy you a pot since you were apparently thriving for a career as a pot plant. “Maybe you’ll worry less when we put her in one, cover her up to the neck with earth and check once in a while whether she needs some water.”

You’d sent Porthos a glare, but his big grin never failed to infect you and so you had taken to hit him against the arm to get your point across nevertheless. “Be careful, I might grow thorns!”

“More than you already have?” Athos had asked with a sassy head tilt and a smirk that barely showed on his lips but lit up his blue eyes.

Aramis had grabbed you and pulled you on his lap to prevent you from jumping on Athos for that comment. He’d wrapped his arms tightly around you and had put his head on yours, gently rocking you from left to right. “Can’t you just promise me that you won’t climb on that sill again, (Y/N)?”

You’d worn a disgruntled expression that had made Athos and Porthos laugh. Obviously you hadn’t promised anything that day. And for a good reason, since you were not someone to break your promises… and since you were on the sill again, there was nothing you had to be ashamed of.

You could see your brother and his friends in the first row of all the present musketeers. They looked so different from when they were around you. Less friendly, less relaxed, less careless. They were wearing their professional soldier faces – barren of sympathy and covered by an icy mask. Cooly they listened to the orders of the day, multiple hat feathers ruffling in the wind. Aramis, Athos and Porthos were given a mission to go to the fruit market and search for a suspect. Your fingers were getting cold from holding on the wall next to the window and your nose started running from the cold breeze that was whistling around you. But none of that truly mattered to you – you were raised at a musketeer corps, you were tougher than most girls your age.

When Treville finished his speech, he left to go up the stairs to his bureau opposite of your position – you were lucky he didn’t notice you. When the door closed behind him, you looked back down to the murmuring musketeers who went to prepare their horses. Your brother was twirling his hat in his hand and was smirking at something Athos had said to him. Porthos was getting out one of his muskets, checking if it was loaded. A longing demanded its place in your hurting chest – you really wanted to go with them.

You didn’t want to practice your Latin – Aramis had left some work for you on the desk as he usually did; when he got home for his missions, he put on his glasses – yes, he wore glasses for reading, don’t tell anyone – and verified your work. It was how you had become quite fluent in English and German. But your Greek and Latin still needed pretty much work.

It wasn’t how you wanted to spend your days though. You longed to get out there. You longed to get in the saddle in front of your brother, feel his strong arms hold the reigns around you and go with him on his missions. You wanted to make adventures, meet new people, fight, win glory and fortune and most of all, share the experiences of the three people you loved most in this world. You knew you were young – and a girl – and that there was little chance they would take you with them, even if you were an adult. But reason could not take over the passion that was rising in your chest.

When Athos, Porthos and Aramis turned towards the stables, you couldn’t help yourself; you put your fingers against your lips and whistled as loud as you could.

All three of them turned around in an instant, muskets holstered up on their shoulders.

Gif by: https://www.tumblr.com/useyourtelescope (I couldn't resist, it fits my story so well :,))

You were fully aware of the fact that you were getting their attention while perched where you were not supposed to perch – but instead of looking sorry or feeling in the least ashamed, you just ran your hand over your nose and called to them: “Can I come with?”

Aramis’ shoulders sagged – so hard that you could see it from the other side of the garrison – and he bowed his head, shaking it while a cloud of his breath appeared in front of his face – a sigh the cold presented to the world like an exclamation mark.

Athos was blinking up at you, his tired eyes narrowed against the brightness of daylight that fell into the courtyard. His features were soft and you were sure that he was quite fond of the way you never did what anybody told you. Porthos simply broke out laughing when he saw you.

“Aramis, your plant is speaking again,” he chuckled, shaking your brother’s shoulder.

Aramis rarely got mad at you, the really, really, super angry kind of mad. And this moment was no exception. He shook his head with yet another sigh, but his lips were already forming a little smile. He knew, deep down in his heart, that you were not the type to conform to norms and that you would never change in that regard. And he was so proud of it, of you, of the way you were capable to hold a musket like he did and the way you could ride a horse while facing its back.

You were a wild child; and more importantly you were his wild child.

Still. There were boundaries. He was your brother, but he had responsibilities that went far beyond the jobs of an older brother.

“What do you think?” Aramis simply fired back at you, the amusement audible in his voice. He squinted his eyes at you and you squinted right back at him.

“I think … I would be a real support for you guys!”

Athos tilted his head with an honest to God chuckle, before looking at your brother expectantly. He always enjoyed these little exchanges between the two of you. It amused him to no end, when Aramis who was cooler than winter in combat, almost lost the entirety of his nerves in any dispute with you, his younger sister.

Athos was a calm and reassuring presence in your life. While Porthos was playful and never got tired of chasing you through the stables, Athos was taking his time to talk to you often, about all different kinds of things. He took your hand when you were close to getting lost in crowds. He only had to send you one look to make you stop when you were being stubborn. And he always encouraged you to get on Aramis’ nerves, simply by not intervening.

It was a recurring situation Aramis found himself in: all three of you against him. He knew the other two were mostly doing it, because it made you laugh – like some babies started giggling when someone got hit over the head. But he sometimes did wonder, if they were not enjoying themselves a bit too much at his expense.

“You know what would be very supportive of you?” Aramis asked, his brows raised high.

“What?”

“Getting down from that silly window sill.”

“It’s not silly! It’s made of wood which in Latin means … ”

“(Y/N)!”

Porthos crossed his arms in front of his wide chest, his mouth opened in a laugh. “I’m sure, we could actually use her to prick someone with her thorns. Especially if we need to part the crowd on the market!”

“You’re not helping!” Aramis groaned, running one hand down his face.

Athos smirked, looking at him with amusement. “He’s not wrong though.”

Aramis looked at him with bewilderment. “I am not taking her with us!”

“We could throw her after people who try to escape!” Porthos added, imitating the movement of someone throwing a ball. “She will cling to them like a cat!”

“No throwing!” You felt compelled to exclaim, making Porthos laugh some more.

Aramis sighed, looking up at you and speaking in a softer tone. “(Y/N), I can’t, okay? I’m scared I’d lose you in the crowd if we actually had to seize someone out there. What if I lose sight of you? What if bullets are fired and you are in the line of-“

“Ughh, alright!” You gave in, putting your chin on your knees, a pout pulling your lips down. “I get it. I’ll do my stupid Latin homework…”

“It’s not stupid,” Aramis responded, imitating your remark from earlier by altering his voice, “it’s made from paper which in Latin means-“

“Oh, stop it, you!” You barked at him, a laugh mixing into your voice.

He grinned up at you. “I promise I’ll take you to the city, tomorrow, okay? But now, please come down from there, will you?”

“From my silly window sill?”

“(Y/N)…”

“Alright, alright! But someone will have to catch me!”

Three pairs of eyebrows shot up.

“No, (Y/N), don’t even think about jumping!” Aramis said in a much sterner voice than before.

“Come on, it’s not that high!” You argued, your pout intensifying. “I have to say good-bye to you guys!”

“Well, climb back inside the room and use the bloody stairs!”

“That’s boring!! I’m a musketeer’s sister! I jump if I want to jump!!”

“Dear Lord, whatever did I do to-“

“On three, okay?” You yelled with an angelic smile on your lips.

“NO, no no no no no no!!” Aramis shouted up at you, raising one hand to underline his words. “You will NOT!!”

“’Mis, I know that you will catch me.” You said in a tone so confident, it made Aramis move his head back in surprise.

Athos and Porthos wore slightly concerned expressions on their faces, but they did not seem to believe it useful to argue with you on this. And you were sure that they as well knew, Aramis would never fail to catch you.

“Are you ready?” You asked with an excited light in your eyes.

Aramis shook his head at you and sighed for the thrillionth time that day. “Are you sure you want to jump straight into my arms right now, in this very moment, where you have already tested my patience for quite a while?”

You closed your mouth and narrowed your eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Are you sure you can take the consequences of your actions?” The expression on your brother’s face lightened up again; there was something smug in his eyes now and you were pretty sure you knew what was in store for you, were you to land in his arms.

You hesitated long enough for Athos to start grinning and for Porthos to start laughing.

“I wouldn’t underestimate the thorns of your brother.” Athos said meaningfully, a knowing expression in his eyes.

“I’m not scared,” you reminded them vehemently, preparing for a jump, despite the revenge that your brother most certainly had in stock for you.

“Sometimes, it’s wise to be afraid,” Aramis growled, cracking his fingers. “But by all means, do what you think best, I’m ready.”

“You better be!” You called, your stubbornness getting the better of you. “On three!”

“Alright!” Aramis smiled.

“One,” you started, your hands searching for a good spot on the walls to hold on to.

“Two,” Aramis continued, close enough to break your fall.

“… Three!” You screamed as your feet left the wooden sill. The fall was shorter than you’d expected, but the impact upon hitting your brother’s arms much harder than you’d hoped for. He groaned from the force and stumbled backwards, while you were squealing in his ears, from excitement, from adrenaline, from anticipation and from the smallest amount of fear.

He chuckled as you tried to push yourself out of his arms, tightened his grip around your middle and threw you over his shoulder. “Now where do you think you’re going so quickly?”

“Aramis, let me down!!”

“I’ll never let you down!” He answered, using the double meaning of the word to keep you pinned to his shoulder. “We have to say good-bye first!”

You threw punches against his back, but recoiled within seconds, when fingers started digging into the ticklish parts of your sides. “NOO!” You screeched, your elbows pushing down to cover up the spots your brother’s hands were already covering. “NO TICKLING!!”

“No tickling?” Aramis gasped, as if it shook him deep within his soul. “Should have thought of that before provoking me the way you did.”

You started laughing uncontrollably, your forehead colliding with his shoulder as you twisted and struggled within his grip to get away, away, awayyy. But your brother was a master at this game. He swayed your body from left to right until you were almost hanging upside down, with his fingers crawling over your belly. You barely managed to get a breath in amidst your helpless squealing.

“STOP IT!!” You giggled, trying to hold on to his fingers that somehow escaped and started poking all over your sides.

“Just one more good-bye kiss, yes?” He teased, lifting your upper body towards him as you continued to wiggle and twitch with laughter.

“NO NO NO, not THAT!” You screeched, but your brother was merciless and already a long and ticklish raspberry found its way underneath your chin. Laughing silently, you tried to protect your neck, but Aramis put one hand on the side of your face to hold your head against his chest and have full excess at the other side of your neck. It tickled terribly, what with his beard adding to the sensation and his nose teasing another spot on your sensitive skin at the same time.

“PLEASE NO MORE!!”

Your brother lifted his head with a smirk and looked down at you, his eyes lit up by the glimmer of mischief. He was holding you like a sleeping child, both arms around your body and your head on the height of his shoulder. Gasping for air, you held on to his shirt unconsciously – he noticed it and was quite endeared by it. After a few seconds, you had calmed down enough to focus and send a half-hearted glare at his fond face.

“That was mean.”

“You’ll live.”

“Barely!”

“Drama queen!”

“Hey!” You used your free hands to attack his neck with tickles of your own, making him snort and chuckle softly before he carefully let go off you, making your feet land back on the floor. You tried to continue your little attack, but he caught your wrists and lowered them decidedly.

“You best not provoke me again straight away!” Aramis chuckled, covering his sides, when you tried to tickle him more. “I don’t have time for you to get revenge now. We have to go, (Y/N)!”

“This is not fair! Why is there time to tickle me, but none to tickle you?”

He was too amused by your attempts to get your hands on his ribs that despite not succeeding, you made him laugh which was definitely better than nothing.

Eventually he did manage to get you to stop, grabbing your shoulders and looking you deep in the eyes. He was slightly out of breath from laughing which made you grin. “No more of that now, pot plant! Go up and plot your revenge there, okay? And do your homework!!” He gave you a kiss on the cheek and turned around to get to his horse.

“Damn it, I must have pulled a muscle when you did your little stunt.” He made a grimace and started massaging his shoulder while walking.

Porthos and Athos were wearing equally endeared expressions on their faces, standing next to their horses and waiting patiently for Aramis’ and your good-bye ceremony to be over.  

“Don’t worry,” Porthos winked at you, “We’ll help you get your revenge later!”

“I heard that,” Aramis said, raising a reprimanding brow at his friend.

“Good,” Athos smirked at him, rearranging his hat to protect it from the wind that would weigh against them while riding.

“You three will be the death of me,” Aramis sighed while getting on horseback. He looked back at you and winked, a smile on his face. “Do your homework!”

“Yes, I heard you the three first times you said that,” you wailed, but ended up sending him a good-bye grin, before he rode out of the courtyard.

“No more window sill jumping, pot plant!” Porthos demanded, raising a finger at you half-seriously.

Athos tilted his hat at you, ever the courteous musketeer. “I second that!”

You watched them leave and started doing maths instead of Latin: Aramis had told you, you could accompany them – if at all – when you were at least 16 years old. You sighed when you realized that you had to do four more years of Greek, Latin and window sill perching before that. Hopefully you wouldn’t turn into an actual pot plant until then.

Plotting your revenge, you started climbing the stairs to your and Aramis’ apartment. If Athos and Porthos were to help you, Aramis would wish he’d never tickled you in the first place.

[celestial-alignment]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Musketeers (2014) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: d'Artagnan (Trois Mousquetaires), Athos | Comte de la Fère, Aramis | René d'Herblay, Porthos du Vallon Additional Tags: Huddling For Warmth, Platonic Cuddling, POV d'Artagnan (Trois Mousquetaires), Brotherly Bonding Summary:

The newest and fourth Musketeer, d'Artagnan, is too manly to join the sleep pile.

[raethereptile]

Where are my fanfics where the queen goes full feral after S2 and takes no ones shit (least of all the Kings (you believed him Louis, over me, and you'll be paying me back for that the rest of our lives)) instead of becoming too catious and subdued in fear of her position

The fics where she says fuck you I am the queen of France and these are my Musketeers

Where she calls the boys her friends and calls on them as her regular guard just so they can hang out and turns her nose up at Louis when he seeths about it

Where she has our 4 musketeers raise her son, the future king of France, because she knows that this county that is hers now deserve better than the type of King Louis would raise

Where she writes to them at the front to check on them and to provide intel on Spain because she was a Spanish princess but now she is Queen of France and that is who she it. The woman that forces her was into the war councils to beat knowledge of Spanish politic and land and strategy into the men that have led her county into war (the war her marriage was supposed to prevent the the first place)

Fics where she gossips and spends time with Constance talking about their musketeers, where she's snubbed by the king at another ball so goes to her noble Athos for a dance instead, where she asks Porthos to teach her how to defend herself, where she teases D'Artagnan about being a baby musketeer so he tells her all the embarrassing stories about the other three that they would never want her to know until she is crying with laughter, and yes, when she tells Aramis not to go because she needs a friend and if you leave people will still talk but then I would be alone so he stays

Because I want all the fics

[roennq]

Probably in the minority here but I've always thought Aramis got a raw deal in his happy ending. Yes, he got to watch his son grow up and all and be with the love of his life, but unlike his brothers, he can never walk hand in hand down the street with her. He can't even show his love to her or give her a kiss in public. It's all shadows and secrets with them.

Oh well, there's always fanfiction.

[nocturnalstarlet]

— 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑰 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑭𝑶𝑹 🪐

— 𝑨 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑺

🪐 ››       cassian, azriel, nesta archeron, elain archeron, feyre archeron, lucien vanserra, eris vanserra.

ships i'd write for: cassian x nesta , elain x azriel , gwyn x azriel , and elain x lucien.

— 𝑩𝑩𝑪 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑹𝑺

🪐 ››       aramis, porthos.

— 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑻𝑶𝑵

🪐 ››       anthony bridgerton, daphne bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, king george iii.

— 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑨𝑳 / 𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑼𝑷𝑶𝑵 𝑨 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

🪐 ››       legend, julien santos, scarlett dragna, donatella dragna, jacks/prince of hearts.

— 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑫

🪐 ››       phoebe halliwell, paige matthews, wyatt halliwell, chris halliwell.

— 𝑫𝑨𝑰𝑺𝒀 𝑱𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑿

🪐 ››       warren rojas, eddie roundtree, graham dunne, camila alvarez, karen sirko, daisy jones, simone jackson.

— 𝑭𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑭𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺

🪐 ››       dominic toretto, brian o'conner, letty ortiz, mia toretto, roman pearce, deckard shaw, tej parker, han lue.

ships i'd write for: dom x letty.

— 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 / 𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑵

🪐 ››       tormund giantsbane, podrick payne, sansa stark, robb stark, jorah mormont, theon greyjoy, sandor clegane, samwell tarly, rhaegar targaryen, daenerys targaryen.

🪐 ››       aemond targaryen, jacaerys velaryon, alicent hightower, daemon targaryen.

— 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹

🪐 ››       ron weasley, hermione granger, dean thomas, blaise zabini, luna lovegood, neville longbottom, cedric diggory, viktor krum.

🪐 ››       james potter, lily evans, narcissa black, regulus black, andromeda black, sirius black, remus lupin, frank longbottom, peter pettigrew, lucius malfoy, pandora lovegood, alice fortescue, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, emmeline vance, dorcas meadows.

🪐 ››       theseus scammander

🪐 ››       teddy lupin

🪐 ››       godrick gryffindor, rowena ravenclaw, helga hufflepuff, salazar slytherin

**a very big fuck you to jkr. this account is HEAVILY anti jkr and always will be. **while some of the fics for these characters may occur during their time at hogwarts, the characters will be assumed to be 18+ regardless of fic type.

— 𝑰𝑻

🪐 ››       richie tozier, stanley uris, ben hascom, mike hanlon.

**none of my writing for these characters will take place in the first film. i may instead do college!fics for this. everything else will come from when they're adults.

— 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑳 / 𝑿-𝑴𝑬𝑵

🪐 ››       steve rogers, james buchanan "bucky" barnes, natasha romanoff, yelena belova, wanda maximoff, pietro maximoff, thor odinson, loki laufeyson, bruce banner, druig.

🪐 ››       john allerdyce (pyro), bobby drake (iceman), peter rasputin (colossus), scott summers (cyclops), alex summers (havoc), anna marie lebeau (rogue), logan howlett (wolverine), ororo munroe (storm), peter maximoff (quicksilver), charles xavier, erik lehnsherr.

— 𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑲𝑺

🪐 ››       pope heyward, sarah cameron, kiara carrera, jj maybank, john b routledge, rafe cameron, topper thornton.

— 𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝒀 𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺

🪐 ››       thomas shelby, arthur shelby, john shelby, michael gray, finn shelby.

— 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑻𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵

🪐 ››       felix catton, venetia catton, farleigh start.

— 𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴

🪐 ››       tara carpenter, sam carpenter, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, ethan landry.

— 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑬

🪐 ››       aaron warner, kenji kishimoto, juliette ferrars.

— 𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭

🪐 ››       derek hale, peter hale, stiles stilinski, isaac lahey, lydia martin, scott mccall.

— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺

🪐 ››       finnick odair, haymitch abernathy.

ships i'd write for: finnick x annie

— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬

🪐 ››       elijah mikaelson, marcel gerard, klaus mikaelson, kol mikaelson, rebekah mikaelson, bonnie bennett, enzo st. john, stefan salvatore, damon salvatore, jeremy gilbert, caroline forbes, elena gilbert.

— 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫

🪐 ››       eric northman, jason stackhouse, alcide herveaux , jessica hamby.

— 𝑻𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻

🪐 ››       charlie swan, carlisle cullen, emmett cullen, rosalie hale, alice cullen, sam uley, paul lahote, jared cameron.

— 𝑾𝑬𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑫𝑨𝒀 / 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑫𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀

🪐 ››       morticia frump, gomez addams, wednesday addams, enid sinclair, bianca barclay.

ships i'd write for: morticia x gomez.

— 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺

🪐 ››       ransom drysdale (knives out), andy barber (defending jacob), killian jones (ounce upon a time).

don't see what you're looking for? feel free to ask if i know a fandom/ship/character and if am willing to write what you're looking for!!

[writesick-lover]

Please don't leave

D'Artagnan x fem!reader

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

A/N: Hiii, so yeah, this is basically my first post of a one-shot I wrote like a year ago but I am still proud of it to this day. At first it was written based on D'Artagnan from the movie The Three Musketeers but later on I realised that it works perfectly with the one from the series as well so you got both of them here haha. I also decided to leave this in a 3rd pov despite reader's involvement in this story. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know how you like it ;D

Warning: none it's just fluff

Summary: D'Artagnan and his wife wake up to another morning in their bed until they realise the daunting truth of what is to come.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

Another cold morning had hit the residents of Paris. The early busy streets were haunted by a mysterious fog and the warm breaths of people talking with each other in hopes of buying something for what little they had. Amongst the civilians, a bunch of feathered hats moved around. The musketeers, the pride and joy of the King's army, were up early and ready to protect their country and their King. All of them but one.

She pulled her bedsheets up, trying to hide from the merciless cold that had crept into her usually warm bedroom. She could use the feeling of his body to fight the cold but found no strength to search for his touch as her place in the bed was partially warmed up by her. As if her thoughts called him, his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to his chest. It felt just like the usual morning they were to spend together. Except it wasn't. 

The reality hit her like a wild horse and broke all of her dreams of a lovely morning into pieces. "Charles," she croaked. There was no response but she knew he was up, he was a light sleeper, his profession made him to be one. "Charles," she tried again. A sound returned to her voice and finally hit his ears as he snuggled closer to the crook of her neck. 

"Oui, mon ange?" he mumbled against her skin, placing a small kiss. It was prickling like a needle as she slowly realized it might have been one of the last kisses she was to receive from him. 

"You have to go," her voice shook and she gulped, to swallow the lump in her throat caused by the urge to cry. 

He groaned, realizing the truth as well, but choosing to ignore it in favor of more cuddles. "No, we still have time."

She sighed as she glanced at the clock, "No, we don't, the musketeers will be here any minute." She started wiggling, trying to break free from his grip that only tightened, making her break a smile whilst she kept on trying. "I have to prepare you a bath. And get your clothes," 

"No, you don't, I can do it later," he muttered sleepily, pulling her as close as physically possible. 

"I do, or you'll have to go through the embarrassment of being dragged out of the bed naked by one of your brothers in arms," she giggled, hitting his hand which had proven to be the right method to make him let go. 

"Please don't leave," he begged, setting off a tear down her cheek. However, it quickly dried as she gasped when the freezing air hit her skin, biting into every inch of her naked body. 

She quickly dressed herself, and he, unbeknownst to her, was watching her with adoration. All of her motions, the way she tied her hair into a ponytail with a black tie, creating a small bowtie at the top. How she quickly put on her underwear to fight of the spreading goosebumps on her skin, small almost inaudible gasps escaping her lips with each movement. The way she perfectly slipped into the black dress he gave her last winter, the one she wore every time he had to leave her. And after all those times, he learned to despise the dress, wishing he never had given it to her. Wishing she never had to put it on, on another of those mornings.

As she left the room, it was as if a symphony he didn't even realise was enveloping his entire world came to a halt. But then her voice rang across the house and he found himself fighting the cold outside their bed just to get to her. As he washed, she made sure everything was ready for him. She always did. She didn't even forget the small package of food for the way, no matter how many times he had told her that Porthos would bring something. And every time, he made sure to eat everything she packed for him instead of what Porthos had brought. 

He was drying himself up when he noticed the unusual silence coming from his significant other. "Why so silent, amour?"  

"Just a lot of thoughts," she shrugged, forcing a smile onto her lips, even though her eyes glistened with tears. 

His posture softened under her teary gaze, but it didn't stop him from his usual habits. "You don't have to mourn, you know I will be back," he grinned arrogantly, letting out his boyish attitude to reduce her worries. But it was very like him to laugh in the face of Death and then escape, no matter how carelessly he threads the line between life and death. She smiled honestly this time, a small giggle escaping her lips and he wished he could trap it in a jar and take it with him. She opened her mouth to retort back but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. 

"D'Artagnan, you better not be sleeping or I will break this door down and drag your ass out whether it's naked or not! Athos is already waiting for us on the academy grounds." Aramis' voice roared from the outside. Her eyebrow lifted, glancing at D'Artagnan who was half naked with a towel in his hands. "I suppose you are at the risk of a major embarrassment." 

"I'm not if my love makes sure to hold them up for me," he smirked devilishly as she rolled her eyes, already heading for the door.  "Sometimes I wish to not do as you say and witness the actual threat getting fulfilled, I think I'd find it more than hilarious," she yelled at him in the middle of her tracks, a mischievous smile, he could see in his mind, painting her lips. "You wouldn't do me that dirty, you love me too much for something like that," he managed to answer while frantically trying to put on his pants.

"Do I really?" she teased, grabbing the door knob and twisting it.

"Hello, gentlemen," she smiled brightly at the two musketeers in front of her. They bowed their heads while holding their hats in an elegant matter, both smiling at her, Aramis appearing to be more joyful than any other time. "My lady." 

"Definitely not yours!" D'Artagnan's voice thundered from the other room. 

"She will be if you don't come out ready this instant!" Aramis snapped back, throwing a bold wink at the lady of the house. She could only roll her eyes at the cheesy gesture as she leaned on the door frame, preventing the two men from entering any further. She smiled politely. "You will have to forgive me, but I oppose to that idea, unfortunately," 

Aramis grabbed her hand and placed his lips on top of it. "Oh, what a shame, my gorgeous lady,"  he sighed after holding it for longer than appropriate, only making her chuckle. 

"Fortunately!" Charles yelled out again. 

"Mon amour, I cannot hold them much longer. Aramis is gonna be all over me if you don't get here soon," a smirk on her face met Aramis' similair one in front of her as Charles D'Artagnan appeared from behind her, accompanied by a loud crash. 

He puffed out his chest after his 'graceful' entrance. "Weren't you the one who taught me not to profane the lady?" he send daggers Aramis' way, towering over the two of his friends, "And here you are, dragging my wife into whatever is going on in that head of yours. I think this matter cannot be resolved any other way than a proper fight upon our return," her eyes widened upon the words of her husband as she noticed the challenging sparks in the musketeers' eyes.

"In no way are you fighting after your return. I will be more than thankful to have you come in one piece after those few weeks so don't you even think about getting yourself killed the very next day," she turned around to fix his shirt and coat that was visibly put on in a hurry. However, she did not fail to handle his clothes with rough tugs, a heat rising in his chest from the warning fire in her eyes. "And you better not let him do anything stupid, I know he will try anyways," she turned around again, eyeing the other musketeers who bowed again under the urging flames.

"At your service, my lady," they smirked in Charles' face and set off running  when he gave chase and chased them all the way to the front yard and to where the horses were already prepared to set off. She followed them, walking to the front yard slowly with a soft laugh but quieted the second she saw them by the horses. D'Artagnan was still with his feet on the ground and waiting for her with a glint in his eyes. Oh, how she was going to miss his dark loving eyes only ever laid on her and the warmth of his body on all of those winter mornings. Oh, how he was going to miss the sweet, sweet smile of hers and the way her voice sounded between the walls of their house. How he was never looking forward to the deafening silence around him without her presence, despite Porthos' mouth never shutting up during the missions. It was a list of unspoken vows they never told to each other out loud but they could always feel it, the way the world stopped at that very moment. 

And without any wait, when she was within his reach, he pulled her into a bittersweet kiss, sending thousands of painful but sweet needles down their lips as both of them knew this may be their last. It was long, full of longing and pain, but mesmerising enough to deafen Aramis' scoff in the back. "Please don't leave," she begged after their lips finally parted, her forehead resting on his. She begged again after he hopped on his horse and again right before they departed. "You know I will come back," he reassured her. And yet, she kept on begging in silence, hoping that he would keep true to his word again just as he did up until now.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

[ofsmokenandgold]

For any and all of you who write historical fanfiction (or fiction of any kind) this is the most comprehensive archive of hi-res, downloadable historical maps that I've ever found. I've linked directly to the 1636 series on France (for all my Musketeers peeps), 444 images for that alone! but you can navigate your way back to the main page easily.

It is fucking AMAZING!

[morganasmissus]

everyone keep me in your prayers-

i'm back in a musketeers fixation and am desperately searching for new fics

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬' 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: this is definitely self-indulgence. There is BARELY anything for Musketeers, and I don’t know WHY. It was such a good show?! If you haven’t seen it, it’s on Stan (for Aussies). 

Warnings: mention of racism, and the treatment of black people (I don’t want to trigger any of my readers)

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ          

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Is very proud to call you his partner. He’s just so honoured that you want to be with him, that it’s difficult not to talk about you. 

     “And she knows so much abou-”

“Yes! Porthos we know! Y/N is amazing, but please... just ... she’s all you ever talk about,” Aramis says with his arms in the air. (He’s not being dramatic, Porthos only talks about you, legitimately.) 

・Was a bit wary about your work but warmed up to you once you explained it. To me, Porthos gives off a bit of Himbo energy™

・Whenever there’s danger, he protects you with his whole body

     “Porthos, you’re squashing me-”

“Shhhh, there’s danger.” 

・You get along really well with Aramis. He’s a lively and funny man, who likes to tell the most embarrassing stories of Porthos

・You give him things to take when he’s away on assignments. Lavender to help calm and to sleep, a bay leaf in his jacket pocket, and a satchet of cloves. 

・He has a strong moral compass, and when the world gets too hard, he comes to you and falls apart. Porthos knows you’ll always be there to help put him back together again

・Knowing his background and where he came from. Enslavement and being a black man affects Porthos in his day to day life. You always want to hear if anyone has done anything to him. You will protect Porthos in every way you can. 

・Porthos always makes you feel safe, protected, and he gives you the space to be yourself. 

・You don’t hide anything from each other, and promise to be truthful. Secrets are what damage relationships. 

・Porthos can change your mood in an instant. He brings you out of so many slumps

・He isn’t as energetic as Aramis (who hates being still), but Porthos still likes to have adventures. However, if you do not wish to, then he’s happy just spending his time at home with you

・Porthos gets angry about the injustices he sees in his day-to-day life. But that’s the only time you see his temper rise. He has never yelled at you, never. He’s never slammed anything, or expressed his anger in physical ways. He’s never even made you jump (well he has, but that’s because he surprised you by coming home early). 

・He absolutely HATES spiders. Despises them. Thinks they’re creepy and will tell you to get rid of it. 

・Likes to share his food with you - feeding you absentmindedly, especially when the food is really good. 

・You never have to worry about Porthos straying. His loyalty is unending. 

・Bit of a crybaby when he’s wounded (only in front of you though. When the guys are around, he doesn’t flinch.) But he loves being coddled by you. 

・ You’re very good friends with Constance. She visits you often, especially when the men are away on an assignment. If they’re gone for multiple days, she may sleep over. 

・It’s often you, who the men come to when they need fixing up. You can help with sleeplessness, headaches, stitching up wounds, to popping shoulders back into place. 

・Your come from a low-class family, and doctors were too expensive, so all your neighbours either suffered or died. You wanted to help people, and so you learned as much as you could from anyone and everyone. 

・Some say you’re a witch, because you know so much. Or maybe it’s because you learned a lot from women

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆:

All of them? 

Porthos is such a loving man. He’s so ready for love, he was just waiting for you to come along. 

𝐺𝑖𝑓𝑡 𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔:  He absolutely adores getting you gifts (he brings tokens back from his travels.

𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒:  He loves spending all his free time with you, doing anything and everything; horseback riding, training, teaching you how to handle weapons (he always wants you to know as much as you can).

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛:  He loves telling you how much you mean to him, and he melts whenever he hears it back. When he’s away from you and missing you, he’ll pull out one of your scarfs and smell it, remembering how much you love him.

𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒:  He will get you tools and supplies whenever you need it. Maybe he doesn’t know when you’re getting low, and you have to tell him, but he will go into town and fetch them willingly. 

𝑃𝘩𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑜𝑢𝑐𝘩: Maybe this is his favourite love language. Porthos wants nothing in this world but you. To hold you in his arms, to play with your hair and smell your skin. He loves when you show him the same physical love back. The gentle caresses on his arm, the kisses, god, it’s all he needs in this world. 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Wondrous Love by Bear McCreary

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

(Porthos gets more because ... god he fits into so many tropes and not a lot of characters do! Also because this is self-indulgent and Porthos is one of my all-time favourite characters.)

・Protective Gremlin x Giant Teddy Bear

・Height Difference

・Would Die For Each Other

・Emotional Support Animal In Human Form

・ Dumbass x Oh God I Guess That’s My Dumbass

・You fell first but they fall harder 

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

Clueless Love

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・Daddy kink, god, the first time you called him daddy ... he nearly came right then. 

・Breeding kink - likes to fill you with his seed. If you fell pregnant, he would definitely have a lactation kink as well. Seeing your belly full and round ... god, it would drive him insane

・His favourite place to have sex, is in the kitchen. It’s close to the kitchen table, where he likes to bend you over and fuck you until you cry with pleasure 

・Always leaves hickies on your tits. It’s his way of marking you, even though no one else will see. 

・Is very giving but absolutely LOVES receiving head. If you gag on his cock, this man will cum nearly instantly. 

・Very very very big cock. Nearly 10 inches when he’s hard

・Absolutely adores dirty talk. He wants to hear you say the nastiest things while he’s inside you

[mizu-writes-kumo]

Pairing: New Dream

Rating/Warning: T, mentions of affairs/cheating

Summary:

He had only been trying to be friendly with the Queen. Queen Rapunzel of Corona was a kind, gentle, and bright soul, who cared so deeply about things, perhaps more than she should be.  She believes too much of the best in people, and wants nothing but the best for the people of the kingdom.  It almost seemed cruel she was born so high with a heart so full and big. Forced to fight for her husband’s, the king, flippant attention. An outcast in her own court just because the kingdom was at odds with Corona. She kept her head high as best she could, but the misery was clear. Eugene had just been doing his duty.

AN: A few weeks ago I rewatched BBC's The Musketeers. It made he want a New Dream AU of it. So this it, just a fun little self-indulgence blurb of an AU. But I hope you enjoy. The cheating warning is only there because Rapunzel is married.

[fantasyismyonlyrealescape]

Whumptober 2024: No. 22 - Bleeding Through Bandages/Reopened Wounds/Oh That's Not Good

Title: To Heal a Lost Soul

Fandom: BBC's The Musketeers

Characters: Olivier d'Athos de la Fère - Athos, René d'Herblay - Aramis, Porthos du Vallon

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 1260

A/N: Here we are again, bois, with another Musketeers fanfiction. For those in the fandom, I hope you enjoy. Un pour tous et tous pour un. ⚜️

Summary: Athos wanders into the Garrison, bleeding and concussed. Aramis is there to stop the bleeding, literally.

Cross posted on AO3 under user wrestlinginjeans.

A lone figure stumbled through the empty Parisian streets in the dead of night, staggering and stumbling over seemingly invisible obstacles. The figure, a male, clad in his leathers and ghostly white, clutched at his ribs with one hand, the other held out slightly in front of him in order to catch himself should he fall. Even with the unsteady gait, the figure had one destination in mind and his alcohol laden body was screaming at him to get there. Faster, faster now.

The two sentries posted at the arched gate of the Garrison placed their hands on their rapiers as the lone figure approached them from out of the mist. When the figure came into greater clarity, a scarred musketeer pauldron adoring his right shoulder, one of the sentries, Pierre, dropped his hand from its place at his hip and took a few hasty steps forward to meet the musketeer halfway.

“Francois, it’s Athos. Get Aramis!” Pierre orders over his shoulder, his hands reaching out to catch the man standing in front of him when his knees fall out from under him. “Tell him it’s bad this time.”

Francois rushes to carry out the orders of his fellow sentry, leaving the two men standing just before the gate. Within moments, Pierre hears pounding footfalls on the wooden balconies that provide access to the second floor of rooms, the silence of the night echoing the heavy footfalls of one and then two men.

“Pierre, bring him here. Aramis is preparing the infirmary.” Francois calls, meeting Pierre and Athos at the wooden staircase to help carry the fallen man up to where Aramis awaited him.

The door to the infirmary bursts open a few minutes later, a semi-conscious Athos leaning heavily on the two men on either side of him. They deposit him onto the nearest bed, retreating to the door to provide space for Aramis to work but to be there to render assistance if needed.

“Pierre, Francois, please find Porthos for me and tell him to come to the infirmary. Afterwards, you can return to your posts. I’ll be able to take it from here.” Aramis orders, nodding his head gratefully at the two men before looking down at his charge.

Taking a moment to wash his hands in a basin of water before drying them thoroughly with a clean piece of linen, he quickly works to determine if Athos is coherent or not.

“Athos, my friend, are you with me?” Aramis asks quietly, his hands already working to remove the many layers of clothing and gear that Athos is sporting this night. He deposits Athos’ sword belt on the floor haphazardly, his nose assaulted by the reek of alcohol and sweat emanating from his injured friend.

“Ara-mis?” Athos asks quietly, his tone mumbled and his eyes glassy from the alcohol and the pain.

“Yes, ‘Thos. It’s me.” Aramis said, quickly switching to the nickname the brotherhood of men used for their leader. “How much wine did you have, ‘Thos?”

“A--. A couple of… bottles.”

Aramis’ brow furrows in confusion, the door bursting open a moment later to reveal an anxious Porthos. Aramis quickly looks towards the taller man, beckoning for him to come over and help with Athos.

“Porthos, help me get the rest of this off of him.” Aramis says, the two men making quick work of removing the majority of his outer garments. Aramis’ eyes widen when they pull off Athos’ doublet to reveal an angry red stain blossoming out from where his off-white linen shirt rested against Athos’ body.

“No…” He hears Porthos’ deep baritone say, Aramis’ hands already working to yank the hem of the garment up for better access to the wound.

“Porthos, get me some wine and some rags. We need to stop the bleeding.” Aramis orders as he places one hand over the bleeding wound, the blood already beginning to leak through his joined fingers. He glanced up at Athos’ face and noted just how pale it was. He had initially thought it had just been the poor lighting, but the amount of blood that his friend had lost indicated a far more sinister reason.

A moment later, Porthos returns with the supplies and Aramis gets to work. He uses one hand to press a folded cloth to the sight of Athos’ wound, causing the injured man’s eyes to shoot open, startled heavy lidded eyes finding Aramis’ face.

“Thos, I’ve got you. But we need to stop this bleeding.” Aramis would not elaborate further on the amount of blood that had made its way onto his shirt, the trail dripping down onto Athos’ leather pants as well.

Aramis takes a quick breath and tastes the iron on his tongue.

“I’m sorry that this hurts, my friend.” Aramis soothes when Athos makes a quiet sound from deep in his throat, trying to turn onto his side to avoid Aramis’ searching hands.

“Thos, you have to stay still for me, alright?” Aramis instructs quietly, his eyes finding Porthos’ own before dark hands reach down and steady Athos, holding him so that he could no longer escape Aramis’ ministrations.

“I’ve got you, Thos.” Porthos soothes as fever induced hazel eyes find his own brown ones.

Aramis presses a fresh rag to the wound, noticing that the bleeding has begun to slow.

“Porthos, I need wine on this cloth, now please.” Aramis orders, the taller man making quick work of the task, holding the soaked cloth in his hand ready to hand it to Aramis whenever he reached for it.

Aramis grabbed the alcohol ladened cloth and switched it out for the previously dry one, Athos bucking as the alcohol stung at the wound.

“Thos, Thos it’s alright. It’s almost over, we’ve got you.” Aramis calls over Athos’ cries, the injured man starting to mumble incoherently. What concerned Aramis the most was how out of it Athos was. He had a high alcohol tolerance as it was and with how watered down the wine was in the tavern that Athos usually frequented, he figured that he would at least be semi-coherent even with the blood loss.

“Thos, did you hit you head?” He asks quietly, grabbing the bottle of wine and pouring some on Athos’ open wound. “Porthos, can you get my needle and thread from my bag?” Aramis asks the taller man as he continues to look at their injured brother. “Thos, you’ve got to stay with us.” Aramis says, gripping Athos’ chin carefully and attempting to catch the older man’s gaze. “Athos, did you hit your head?”

A bad imitation of a nod is all he gets before Athos’ hand is sluggishly reaching for his aching head, the movement causing a wave of dizziness and pain to shoot through his body. “Alright, so a sword wound and a hit to the head… Anything else?”

This time, a barely decipherable shake of the head.

“Alright…” Aramis begins as he takes the waiting items from Porthos and begins to thread the needle. “Let’s get this wound sewn up and then we can get you comfortable. You need to stay awake for me.” Aramis orders, nodding to Porthos to help keep him awake.

“Hey, Thos. Did I ever tell you about that time where I fought five thieves at once with only a fork?” Porthos begins, a relieved smile coming to his face as Aramis gets to work sewing the elder man’s wound.

Aramis would save Athos, he always did. And Porthos would be by their side through it all, their strength in the storm.

[ohanahoku-ao3]

Whumptober Day 5

Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Teen & Up - Gen, F/M - The Musketeers

     The sun beat down relentlessly on the young man who lay sprawled beneath it, his hands and legs tied to posts in the ground. D'Artagnan's shirt and pants had been torn away, leaving only his braies behind, garnering very little protection from the sunlight.

     “D'Artagnan.” A brilliant figure loomed over him, an angel shining brightly above him as her mouth curved into a familiar smile. “I'm here, my love. I'm here.”

     His head spun with vertigo as he closed his eyes against the blazing light, feeling like a loaf of bread baking in the oven as his skin cracked and burned. He'd stopped sweating at some point in the last hour, and now his lips were crusted and bleeding from his dehydrated state. D’Artagnan winced as he felt the leather straps dig into his wrists and ankles, the material slowly shrinking and tightening from the heat as the sun lingered overhead, tugging at his limbs painfully.

     With the heat addling his brain, the young Musketeer was left with only his thoughts, namely: How had he gotten there? Was he going to die? And where was Constance? She'd been with him at some point, hadn't she? Would she come back for him?

<•>

     The sun was setting low in the sky by the time the other Musketeers found him, and they took great pleasure in dispatching the men who had captured d'Artagnan for thinking him to be the official he'd been escorting, who now resided safely at the palace with their king. It was a swift battle, as rage and worry fueled every move the Musketeers made in defense of their friend.

     “D'Artagnan!” Aramis landed heavily on his knees beside the younger man, wincing at the sight of his burnt skin as Athos and Porthos cut the leather ties that bound him. Carefully, he worked an arm under his shoulders, propping him up as he called for Athos to bring him a canteen. “Come on, wake up, d'Artagnan.” He murmured, shaking him lightly.

     The man groaned, coughing from his dry throat as he slowly peeled his eyes open to look at him. His mouth moved, but all he could utter was a rasping breath that seemed to rattle his thin frame.

     “Shh, don't try to talk just yet. Have some water first.” Aramis directed gently, holding the canteen to his lips. Water dribbled from the corner of d'Artagnan's mouth, but his throat pulsed as he weakly swallowed the rest down. Aramis pulled the canteen away slightly, bringing it up a little further to splash some water over the young man's head. D'Artagnan jolted from the sudden cold, sputtering beneath the brief deluge as Aramis washed away the build-up of grime and sweat on his face. “Easy, easy.” He soothed, watching as the man blinked away the gunk from his eyes and stared up at him.

     “-r’mis…” He mumbled, breathing hard as he weakly lifted a hand to pat at his chest. “Where..?”

     “The bandit's camp. You were captured, but it's gonna be okay. You'll be home soon.” Aramis assured him, glancing at the others as they found some rope to help lash him to his horse lest he fall off in his weakened state.

     “No, no, not…” D'Artagnan shook his head, mumbling incoherently about something Aramis couldn't make out until he leaned closer. “Cons'ce was ‘ere. Gotta… Gotta fin’ ‘er.”

     Aramis leaned back with a slight huff of laughter, looking up at the others as they approached them. “Well, if he's thinking of Constance, I'll wager he'll be fine.” He said, earning small smiles from the others. It felt like a good omen, but they all knew they'd only relax once d'Artagnan was home safe and sound and sure to recover.

     Porthos knelt down to take d'Artagnan from Aramis and easily hefted him off the ground. “Come on, then. You’ll be back with your lady friend in no time.” He assured the young man as he drifted off.

     “I'll take point guard. Porthos, you lead his horse, and Aramis, I want you to guard the rear. We'll get him back in a couple hours so long as we don't run into complications.” Athos said, taking charge as they readied to leave.

<>

     Back in the city, a couple days later, Constance sat by d'Artagnan's bedside, dutifully wetting a small strip of cloth to lay upon his feverish head. The man shifted restlessly as the cold cloth touched him, and Constance soothed him back down with gentle words. Her eyes wandered to his wrists, to the deep gashes that encircled them where the leather bit into his flesh. To think of what those horrible men did to him made her heart sit heavy in her chest. If the Musketeers hadn't found him when they did, d'Artagnan wouldn't have stood a chance.

     “Why the sad face?”

     The hoarse but gentle voice had Constance looking up with a gasp at seeing his eyes open. “You're awake!” She exclaimed, overcome with relief at seeing his eyes open for the first time since Aramis had brought her to the infirmary to sit with him. Without thinking, she leaned forward and threw her arms around him, only to hastily pull back as he shouted from the pain of having his skin touched. “Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! You've been burnt to a crisp, the last thing you want is me hugging you, and- Water. I'll get you some water.” Constance said, getting up to retrieve some but halting as a hand gripped hers.

     D'Artagnan's eyes met hers with quiet intensity as he pulled her back down to sit beside him. “I may be in pain, but even a burn of a thousand suns couldn't stop me from longing for your embrace.” He murmured, his thumb gently brushing over the inside of her wrist.

     Constance's heart melted a little at the statement, and she gingerly intwined their fingers together. “I still don’t want to hurt you… But perhaps a kiss wouldn't be as painful?” She suggested, batting her eyelashes at him coyly.

     D'Artagnan's lips ticked up slightly as he held back a painful grin, and he tugged her gently forward, closing his eyes as their lips met. It was chaste and simple, a kiss saying, ‘We're still here. Together.’

     Constance pulled back, her worry eased for the moment, and got up to fetch him some water for real, smiling as she heard d'Artagnan humming softly behind her.

     “Did Choiselle make it to the palace alright?” He called after a moment from the other room.

     “He did, thanks to you,” Constance said, bringing him the water and helping to prop him up to drink.

     “Good. That's good.” The man murmured, lifting the cup to his lips and setting it down when he was done. His eyelids drooped as exhaustion washed over him, and Constance gently fixed the cool cloth over his brow once more.

     “Get some more rest. I'm heading out to pick up some salve for your burns, but I'll be back when you wake up again.” She assured him, watching as he dozed off and lingering another minute or two before leaving, hurrying on her way to return to him sooner.

[musketeermaiden]

Somehow I am still stuck in a Musketeer fixation- every time I go on ao3 for too long I end up back with my boys

Not complaining but I simply cannot think of anything else

[oraclecat]

I FINALLY FINISHED AND POSTED MY ANGSTY SMUTTY ANNAMIS FIC!

It started as fluffy smut but morphed into a character dive. I don't know if anyone will even read it, but I'm so happy my Muse came screaming out of deep hibernation. I used to write a TON and I just haven't felt inspired or creative in that way in like 10 years, so I'm just proud to produce something I actually don't hate, LOL.

[bisexualmultifandommess]

I once read a fic for bbc musketeers where D’artagnan pretended to be a traitor or something for a mission but two other musketeers didn’t realise and attacked him in the street and nearly like drowned him I think and Aramis found him and became almost feral protective and wouldn’t let them come near them but I can’t remember the fics name does anyone know it?

[ofsmokenandgold]

My alternate “about to write angsty Aramis fan fiction” wallpaper