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wench-and-jezebel · 2 years ago

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The Musketeers Reaction: The Good Soldier

Jezebel (@typicalopposite) reacts [with occasional asides by Wench (@scripted-downfall)]

Wench Intro: This episode is brought to you by the fact that my work life sucks and I’m drinking one of my finite number of sodas that count as Jezebel-approved Real Snack Food, so we just had to do a react… what a shame :) We’ll pick up Dark Angel at some point soon, but I took advantage of the lull between Ben and Alec to steal Jezebel’s fandom attentions! On with the show!

– – –

GAHHHH! The king is such a child! He whinesssss so much

So they ARE French! Where’s the accents 😤 😂😂😂

Ooo jumpscare

Oh, buddy, not a “torn between my old friend and my new ones” [Friends or "friends"?]

She’s too nice! [Anne?] The queen [… Anne alksdjf] Oh ☠️☠️ [She pays for it, alas] Oh nooooooo! Wait, the queen? Or the sister? [asldkfj The queen. Anne of Austria.] Hey the Terminator is from there [wtf is this exchange? We're bonkers, I see]

d��Art! Of all of them to pop up! It’s always d’Art!

d’Art. You have. No right. To call anyone mad. adslkfj

“Your endless deceptions… now give me your word” ‘Cause that means anything

[Poor Constance keeps getting dragged into shit] I know 😭😭 [Y'all, she ain't dumb]

Are they holding hands? Buddy… Port is gonna be jealous [Marsac's wrist is tied to Aramis' and his cloak is hiding the rope] Oooh

D’ART. YOU DONT EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE SHES MARRIED!

[Um.] Well [*Hand on wrist* *sigh* "I've thought of you many times"] Er… bro. [Bruh… this scene]

But. But you just called him that? Why? If you don’t-? *sigh* [No, stop, that’s not what he said… He said "Your name is held in contempt amongst your old comrades. You're a coward and a deserter. For that alone, you're under sentence of death."] Ohhh [That's all qualified by the "amongst your old comrades"]

“Friends”

Poor d’Art

Athos got some dead eyes! I’d be so scared to cross him

[Marsac favors Tom Hiddleston btw] Ye I see it

Ooooof

Wottttt?!?? PLOT TWIST

OOOOP! He ded [He ded]

Fuck that! Rats

[Cardinal, stop posturing; it always goes badly] Exactly [I know this version of you is true neutral so you really don't have to do the whole villain monologue thing] 😂😂

He favors Izzy so much I can’t even

[Dude, the fics I could write in jail with no responsibilities] ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ MAAM DON'T GET ANY IDEAS

[I adore Athos' and Porthos' loyalty to Treville]

Buddys temper is extremely short [‘Tis true! And d'Artagnan is not holding back!]

Gonna be beaten by a child [He didn't, but only because he cheated and grabbed the sword to throw it away alskdjflaskdfj]

WHAT A CHILD SWEET LORD

Oooo! Not mad at the longer hair!

WOMAN [MA’AM] You don’t know what you want, sweet lord! [YOU ARE MARRIED] “Married”... Lots of quotations this episode

“You’ll be out on your ears” Like you was supposed to be this time

Womennnnn

Which… would be pretty good protection, what do you mean?

[I love this scene btw]

Athos is like… Wot now? [Dumbass legit picked the best swordsman in the Musketeers laksdfjalskdfjaldskfj Like. Buddy… Ya ain't winning] 😂😂😂😂 [“Athos is the best swordsman in the regiment” See? I wasn’t exaggerating.] 😂😂😂

Athos is like… Aight, easy

[Buddy pissedddddd]

[It is a veryyyy good thing they picked Athos, for real… Man's about the only one of them not gonna be hot-headed and screw it up. He'll sit there, stare the dude down with a glare that could cut, and still give the apology, but he *will* actually give the apology] 😂😂😂 but then he gets basically called hot headed anyway and has to apologize… Like, sorry I won?

Oooooop! OOOOOOP THE SCAR

[I love Athos’ passive aggression] YESSSS ["What motive could a Musketeer possibly have to want to kill the Duke of Savoy?" *cough cough* I KNOW WHAT YOU DID]

– – –

Jezebel: 🙂 Flirt Ep! 🙂

Wench: Indeeddddd

Jezebel: Buddy shoulda kept the locks 😮‍💨💕😂

Wench: asdlkfj Then you’ll love season 3; I think they all have longer hair

Jezebel: 💕💕💕💕 But also ack! As much as he has been my favorite, I hatteeeeee the old friend loyalty storylines. But like. Can one of them have a happy backstory episode orrrr? 🥺🥺 or is it like a requirement for the musketeers ☠️

Wench: Uh... d'Art was good up until his dad?

Jezebel: Exactly ☠️☠️☠️ He was probably doing his interview telling his life and they were like “ehhhh we don’t think you’re the right fi—” and then he goes “…and then my dad is as murdered.” and they’re like “oh, you’re in”

Wench: Also technically Aramis had the backstory AFTER he joined. He didn't have trauma pre-regiment that I know of

Jezebel: Ahhh I see 🙂 But alas idk if I trust the friend or not. And I’m leaning more toward not. And now 🙂 the sword fight! 🙂

Wench: I love that fucking swordfight

Jezebel: Again! Man has DEAD eyes! I would not want to fuck with him!!

Wench: akdsljf Don’t be rude

Jezebel: Shush! I don’t mean it to be rude! He just has a constant look of I give zero fucks

Wench: But that two-handed twist thing in the middle of the fight? I'm not at all sure it's historically accurate (and probably isn't) but I love it regardless. You know the bit I mean?

Jezebel: Yes! 😂😂😂 and SAME!

Wench: Aight... ready?

Jezebel: Yup!

– – –

[Aramis, how have you not gathered that Athos is gonna be loyal alksdfj I thought y'all knew each other really well alskdfj] Not gonna lie I’m kinda annoyed Flirts so quick to drop his loyalty [Oop! Scandal! :))))] Shush lol

[Also, Port in the rain again]

Oooop… Maybe they should be losing loyalty

[Oof, the soundtrack HELLA Doctor Who rn]

Oooooooh hell no [Bruh they said she's married] ☠️☠️☠️☠️ [Not that that’s stopping d'Art but still] I really hope Flirt doesn’t defend this.. What a TURD! Ew! 😤😤😤

Lady, you stop that look

Poor d’Art ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ He was getting excited [I love her though] But yes I do too!! The little giggle was adorable! [:)))]

Ooooop

Well shit

Damn I felt the anger behind that punch irl

Booooooo, Flirt, his- Welp. Saw that punch coming.

["I need a drink" We know, Athos, we know]

Ooooop she gonna get ded

[I love their cloaks 😭] Yesssss!

“It’s absolutely pointles- Do as he says” And that doesn’t scream red flag [He recognized d’Art] No, I know laksdfj I’m saying the duke is dumb

“How awkward” ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

The loook ☠️☠️☠️☠️ cardinal being sassy

Well now look at that, Flirt… You done fucked up! [Not the kind of bedroom bondage he expected? :)] ☠️☠️☠️☠️ [I’m hilarious]

THERES SO MANY GUNS IN FACES

OHHHHH! PLOT TWISTSSSSSS! [Yup! Not Treville's fault after all!!!]

FLIRT you are flip flopping so hard

Oooop more trauma *sigh*

His queen gift! 🙂 [Something something past lover vs present]

Now Flirt’s in the rain

– – –

Jezebel: 😤😤 I don’t like the friend at all but I don’t fully hate him either! I get why he was doing what he was doing. But it was still wrong. And the captain wasn’t truly guilty. But Flirt you upset me in this one! For shame! They are always blinded by the urge to be loyal to the friend. And there wasn’t much Flort interactions 🥺🥺

Wench: My condolences asdkfj If it's any consolation, there was relatively little Athos too. We both suffered

Jezebel: I also felt bad for Athos because he held on to his loyalty for so long then in the end he looked so disappointed that maybe it was in vain. Meanwhile, d’Art. 😮‍💨 buddy either a) doesn’t like conflict or b) doesn’t like change. Cause he refused to believe the captain was capable of this with like… NOTHING.., to back it up. At least the others had worked under him for a while

Wench: Yeah… d'Art is just a bit naive and idealistic. So he believes in the good of people without much basis. He's also hot-headed, which seems contradictory sometimes, but it's not… He makes up his mind quickly and then refuses to change it unless confronted with a serious reason. So, he's convinced Athos killed his dad; damn but he's gonna have to fight a duel, even against three Musketeers and not just one. He's come to know Treville as a good guy? He wouldn't betray the Musketeers.�� Etc

Jezebel: Yeah I see what you mean 🙂 Also I loved the dutchess!!!

Wench: Yessss

Jezebel: Do they ever talk about her being a spy again?

Wench: I don't think so aslkdfj

Jezebel: ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ What about Cluzet?

Wench: Nope

Jezebel: Sheeesh loose threads! I’m still salty I didn’t get more Flort 🥺🥺 😂😂 I mean, I didn’t get much Port at all! He was just kinda there… For shame!

Wench: Let him recover from last episode. Oof- and prep for the next

Jezebel: ☠️☠️☠️ recover from whatever they walked off t- wait, next episode? Is it bad?

Wench: Yes. I have to stay up and do some more work.. wanna do another? np if not

Jezebel: I’m 👀👀 hmmmmm…. Yes. I do

Wench: Aight :)

#jezebel (pr)#musketeers #the musketeers #bbc musketeers #bbc musketeers reactions #athos #porthos #aramis #d'artagnan #portamis #s01e04 #the good soldier

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a-simple-complexity · 3 years ago

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Things about the creepypasta improv thing my close friend and I have been doing since 4th or 5th grade (maybe longer):

- My character doesn't really have a cp name yet but has been around for 401 years

- My character, when not at the mansion, is roomies with JTK (and he steals cheese its)

- Vivian's (the close friend) character is close to Slenderman and has a older sister bond with Sally

- Aside from the Jeff The Cheeze Itz Snatcher gag we have more running gags

- Such as Masky locking Toby in the closet when he's annoying only to turn around and see Toby standing there.... MENACINGLY (lol)

- LJ punts Mr Widemouth across the mansion weekly

- EJ is no longer allowed to cook for others after the barbeque of 2017. We miss you, Butler Bill

- Tuesdays and Thursdays Viv's character takes pets and children out the mansion for a playdate while everyone else has some fun

- Viv's Hidden Stash of Tuna TM

- My Hidden Stash of Vodka and Rum TM

- My character might have a problem but then again immortals aren't really affected by alcohol like most mortals are

- Speaking about my character: Holy. Pets.

- They have a bunch of guard dogs (despite them all being guard dogs they are pampered like you wouldn't believe)

- Pastas respect COVID stuff. Slender ordered everyone to scatter until it's mellowed out alot. Slender caught it at some point. They say get the vaccine and wear ya damn mask.

- There's a "Community Garden". It's just a few pitcher plants, some Butterworts, a killer cow plant (courtesy of Ben pulling some strings), a small patch of wither roses (courtesy of Herobrine), and a oran berry plant (courtesy of a few poke-pastas), rose bushes, etc

- Holidays are fun too

- Christmas time is filled with my character and Viv's taking Sally, Jane, Clockwork, and Nina out for a "girls" night

- Granted Nina only gets taken along bc despite the love-hate relationship between my character and Jeff, Jeff deserves time away from Nina during the holidays at least

- Also despite Jeff hating Nina he appreciates the knives she gives him (and return he gives her some sort of card)

- Due to staying in the vents constantly and stalking everyone my character gets everyone what they think they like would like

- Christmas lights everywhere. Splendor always gets Offender to put the star on top the comically large tree just bc

- Despite it not being Christmas music, everyone listens to Hotel California by The Eagles

- and watches Christmas movies (what was that Christmas movie with Tim Allen?)

- Everyone plays in the snow. Jeff decides to start a snowball fight and Sally makes a snow man.

- Everyone wears something festive and it's normally an ugly sweater thanks to Trender

- Spiked nog anyone?

- Thanksgiving includes everyone gathering together and having fun

- A small hunting trip is planned instead of a football game (the hunt takes place the day prior bc no one wanna miss the parade)

- Sally's favorite float is the Charlie brown float

- You know how the president pardons a turkey? Slender pardons a victim (and has been doing it since meeting Viv's character bc of a joke Viv made)

- My character makes mashed potatoes or some sort of really outdated dish from the 1700's

- The Slender Bros, Viv's character, Sally, Toby, Smile Dog, Jeff, and Nina all watch the dog show after the parade

- Nina is kinda allergic to dogs and doesn't really like them but bc of her lingering obsession with Jeff she puts up with it

- Offender and Trender argue over what dog they think should have won (funny to watch to grown immortal-ass men argue over this)

- Slender carves the turkey

- The pardoned victim is allowed to stay for dinner granted a majority of memories get changed (not really erased, just changed)

- My character, Jeff, and Ben all walk through the woods before dinner and get fucking plastered (and think no one notices....everyone notices)

- the week of Thanksgiving the tree gets put up (acceptable if it's the week of Thanksgiving, any other time then it's just weird)

- My characters mom, (considered the co-founder of Hell) pops in, steals a couple slices of pie, and leaves

- Halloween is celebrated kind of like Thanksgiving and Christmas

- My character decorates the mansion with various bones

- 31 Days of Horror Movies (at some point it's decided to watch Earnest Scared Stupid and some of the serious dog lovers opt out)

- The Slender Brothers dress up as the three musketeers. Splendor is Porthos, Offender is Athos, Slender is D'artagnan and, Trender is Aramis

- Jeff and my character do a duel costume by dressing of as Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer from Cats (musical not movie, duh) alternatively they dress as Rum Tum Tugger and Mr. Mistoffelees.

- Sally dresses as Carrie or a fairy princess

- Jane, Clockwork, Nina, Viv's Character dress up as four of the five muses from Hercules (Viv changes last minute to a cat due to her character having cat ears and a cat tail)

- Toby, Masky, and Hoodie originally wanted to dress as the three musketeers but after slender took that idea they decide to dress up as separate things. Toby dresses as Masky. Masky dresses as the phantom of the opera and Hoodie is a ghost.

- Smile dog dresses as a hot dog :P

- A small hunting trip is planned and Jane and Clockwork take Sally trick or treating

- Everyone finishes the month with A Night are Before Christmas (a classic)

- Not many celebrate Valentine's day

- It's really only the Slender Bros, Viv's character, My character, Nina, Toby, Masky & Hoodie, and Sally

- and by Sally I mean she just leaves candy from the candy bowl everywhere

- Masky and Hoodie make a day of it since Slender gives them holidays off. They eat cheesecake in the woods and just spend the day together.

- Toby spends the day alone but still celebrates in his own way. Eating waffles.

- Offender (in our improv thing he's not....yeah....he's just a hopeless romantic that does consensual hook ups) and my character spend his their leaving roses out at restaurants and going to bars for hookups. They have a bunch of stuff worked out.

- Viv and Slender spend the day in bed or lounging in the living room watching some cheesy comedy.

- Trender spends the day as a self care day seeing as he's alone at the moment. Every day is self care for him but it's even more on Valentine's Day. He goes all out and even treats himself to a fancy restaurant.

- Splendor likes going to neighborhoods and leaving cute little poems on people's doors then heading to the zoo for personal time.

- Nina harasses Jeff who, in return, leaves the mansion and heads to the apartment him and my character share.

- New Years is something everyone celebrates. While some have resolutions others have new quotas they're trying to meet.

- Sally tries to stay up and watch the ball drop (she's only seen it drop twice before falling asleep)

- My character and Viv's character get shit faced

- Jeff normally sits there with a beer in one hand and Smile Dog beside him

- that's really all that consists of New Years

More about our two characters:

My character:

- a 401 year old demon thing

- in our universe hell is ran by the 7 devil's as well as my characters mother. Hells more of a city than a pit.

- Has lived with Jeff as a roommate since late 2018

- Use to be with Herobrine but broke it off with him for unknown reasons.....they're civil and still good friends. He's one of those people that could make a good boyfriend but is best as a close friend

- On their 400th birthday a crackening happened in Hell that enhanced their powers and they were hunted by Zalgo. Luckily a truce was established.

- Has been by Viv's character side since her characters soul was first created. More in Viv's Character's section

- Y'know those dogs that were talked about in the beginning? They primarily stay at their mothers mansion in Hell.

- Also all cats go to hell but they don't get hurt. They like to watch. Sometimes if you're lucky you might get a celebrity's cat. That's how my character got their lovely (and kinda douchy cat) Delilah. She likes to pee all over people's suits just bc she's like that.

- They were born in 1620 but are progressive

- Still liked fashion through the ages

- Maybe not the health damaging ones

- Is able to fly and teleport but due to back pain and migraines prefers to stay grounded and rarely use teleportation

- Doesn't actually kill much but has had souls sold to them (job as a demon....doesn't really need one though....is Crossroads Demon)

- Had a one night stand with Trender about 240ish years ago

- Does have proxies....it's those souls they take and barter around for

- Souls in hell can be used for currency depending on whether or not they sold their soul

- Anyways, was at some point known for having an obsession with chainsaws and hoodies...still has a bunch of hoodies and a chainsaw but doesn't really use them much (is more of a flannel and gun person now)

Viv's Character:

- her character managed to get everyone's favorite dwarfed rag doll cat from the internet

- Her character use to be with Entity 303 and ended up Slenderman

- that makes two of us who were with a Minecraft pasta and ended up with a slender brother lol

- I think her character is called Kat or KC so for now imma call her character Kat

- Kat has an addiction to tuna and milk

- Also has cat ears and a cat tail which are both very sensitive

- when Kat's soul was created my character was created. Even though Kat has been through many many reincarnations my character has always been alongside her. Even though my character doesn't die they act as a guardian towards Kat.

- Has a tendency to sit up in the cat walks and within the walls of the mansion alongside my character

- Gets lost in the forest from time to time and needs help getting out

- Despite being with Slender she has her own room to store her weapons and stash her plans.

- If I'm not mistaken Kat also was with Toby for a short while but doesn't talk about it much. Imagine dating your ex-lovers boss lol

- Disappears for up to a week sometimes without saying where she's going and when she comes back she acts as if nothing happened

- When both Kat and my character started living in the mansion they shared a room for about a year.

- Kat had a personal garden that was completely wiped out by Zalgo before a treaty was established and she still hasn't forgave him

- The garden mostly had marigolds and a few small plants. The only one that really mattered was Audrey the Venus fly trap.

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highfunctioningflailgirl · 4 years ago

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Whumptober No.26

Athos had always been a good rider, but now he realized how much of that ability was based on seeing. As his horse, tied to d’Artagnan’s, trotted along at what should be a comfortable pace, he had difficulties staying in the saddle. With his eyes bandaged, he had no inkling in which direction they were heading, what kind of ground they were navigating, if they were approaching an ascent or descent, and he was at the complete mercy of his animal’s whims. A few minutes into the ride, he’d given up on holding the reins and had been clinging to the pommel instead, his legs soon hurting from clenching them around the horse’s sides.

They’d discussed letting him ride together with one of them, but Athos had insisted on using his own mount. His dignity was taking enough of a hit already, and he hated being a burden. At least he had d’Artagnan as his navigator. The best rider of all of them and gifted with horses, he was doing what he could to help Athos, guiding the black Friesian with a calm hand and warning Athos about changes in territory or speed.

Nevertheless, when they reached the garrison, Athos was drenched in sweat and sore all over. Under the bandage, his eyes were sticky and stung incessantly, and he could tell they were swelling shut. The cuts on his face were burning and he felt a little seasick. Although he couldn’t see anything, he could hear the noises of the garrison dying down as they rode into the courtyard. Sparring matches ended abruptly, conversations stopped, and Athos felt curious and concerned eyes on him.

“Come on, slide off that saddle.” Porthos clapped him on the thigh. “I’ll give you a hand.”

Awkwardly, groping for his brother’s arms and shoulders, Athos dismounted and heard d’Artagnan and Aramis ward off fellow-soldiers who’d approached to find out what had happened.

“He’s injured, and we’re taking care of him,” Aramis’ voice rang out. “He’s not in any danger. Go back to your posts and give him some space.”

A background of disconcerted murmurs followed Athos as Porthos led him across the yard, and Athos couldn’t remember ever feeling this exposed and helpless. Porthos had hooked him under, and yet he almost tripped on a protruding cobblestone. Jaw clenched, he forced himself not to stick his arm out to feel for obstacles. He didn’t want to look like a fool.

Inside the infirmary, Porthos deposited him on a chair and, with a squeeze of his arm, left to report to Treville. Athos was grateful for the cool quiet of the room and for the lack of an audience. He’d always hated the infirmary, but today it felt like a sanctuary. Exhausted, he let his head sink, fingering the bandage around his smarting eyes. His face hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt.

“Here, drink this.”

Aramis pressed a cup into his hand, and the familiar scent of Sister Marie’s calming draught rose into his nose. Gratefully, Athos drank it up in a few large gulps.

“D’Artagnan is fetching Doctor Lemay. Until he arrives, let’s make you a little more comfortable, shall we?”

Athos nodded in surrender. The mixture of herbs and alcohol was quickly taking effect, numbing pain and fear and embarrassment to something he could deal with. It made him quietly compliant, and he let Aramis unbuckle his weapons belt, strip him of his jacket and, very carefully, peel the makeshift bandage from his eyes. But he tensed when he heard Aramis suck in a breath.

“That bad?”

“No, it’s just…” Athos felt Aramis’ breath cool on his face when the medic inspected his injuries. “It’s very swollen, but that was to be expected. It will look a lot less dramatic once the swelling goes down. Sit back and try to relax.”

Aramis’ stool screeched across the floorboards when he got up and moved away. Athos heard him bustle about the room, pouring water, mixing medicines, gathering supplies, and he allowed himself to feel comforted by the familiar noises and smells. He’d witnessed Aramis work miracles within the walls of this room. Maybe there was one left for him.

D’Artagnan returned with Lemay surprisingly quickly. The physician was clearly out of breath when he leaned over Athos to examine him - the impetuous Gascon must have hustled him along at a merciless pace. Even before the doctor addressed Athos, he had identified the man by his clean, mildly perfumed smell and the jingling of the instruments in his medical bag.

“I’m going to be as gentle as I can, Lieutenant,” Lemay said in his schooled, caring voice. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be uncomfortable.”

Athos nodded but felt himself breaking into a sweat.

Once more, his eyelids were forced apart. Once more, pain stabbed into his eyes and tears welled, unstoppable. Once more, he couldn’t suppress a gasp and wanted nothing but to bat at the fingers that were causing him such torment. And, once more, firm, brotherly hands held him through the procedure.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of the ordeal.

Lemay ordered a treatment that found Athos squirming on his back on a table, Porthos pressing his shoulders down and Aramis’ palms firmly cupping his cheeks while an infusion of eyebright was poured into his eyes, streamed down his face and pooled at his neck, all of it, all of it, becoming so unbearable that he pleaded with them to stop until they did.

By the time they had him in a bed, his eyes thickly bandaged, he had to fight through a haze of exhaustion and disorientation to focus on the voices in the darkness.

“...Euphrasia twice a day. Summon me at once at any sign of inflammation.”

“We will. Thank you, doctor.”

Athos heard light footsteps retreat and a door being shut. To his right and left, leather creaked and weapons jangled on belts, and he felt the presence of a brother on either side.

“Aramis?” he asked into the swath of stinging black.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t... catch what Lemay said,” Athos admitted, swallowing. “About my eyes. Did he say if…?” He stopped, letting the silence finish the question for him.

“He said he cannot say if there will be any lasting damage.” Aramis’ voice was gentle and accompanied by a warm hand settling on Athos’ arm. “We will have to wait until you’ve healed. For now, it’s important that we ward off infection. We’ll know more in a few days.”

Porthos grunted. “You’ll be fine. I know you will.”

D’Artagnan, who, judging by the nervous pacing, had to be on his left, didn’t say anything, but Athos could physically feel the anxiety emanating from the Gascon.

“For now,” Aramis continued, “try to get some rest. Porthos and d’Artagnan have to report for duty, but I’ll be here.” The hand remained on his arm, an anchor in the dark. “Just rest.”

***

Athos had survived a lot of injuries in his life, but few of them had been as debilitating as this one. Although Aramis had assured him that all remaining glass had been washed out of his eyes, he could have sworn he was wrong: the constant scraping sensation drove him crazy and rendered sleep impossible. Rinsing them with Lemay’s prescribed infusion of eyebright- as harrowing as the procedure itself was - brought a few minutes of treacherous relief until the sandy feeling returned with a vengeance. And distraction was difficult. The darkness encasing Athos highlighted every sensation and made him feel helpless and claustrophobic.

To make matters worse, the day after their return, his eyes had swollen entirely shut and started to weep sickly fluid. An urgently summoned Lemay had diagnosed infection. He’d added a solution of milk, honey and cooked onion to Athos’ treatment that Aramis applied with determination and diligence, accompanied by upbeat remarks. Porthos and d’Artagnan did their best to cheer him up with banter and reports from their day at the garrison, but their kind voices and helping hands did little to dispel Athos’ mounting fear and frustration.

The nights were the worst. Although one of them - usually Aramis - slept on a cot right next to him in case he needed assistance, the silence that befell the garrison became oppressive. Once Aramis’ deep, even breaths announced that he’d fallen asleep, the pitch black behind Athos’ eyelids became an abyss, and he tumbled into it, blind.

Blind.

What if the infection took his eyesight? And even if not - what if he was left with his vision compromised? Whenever Armis cleaned and re-bandaged his eyes, everything still looked blurry, Aramis a mere blotch in front of him. What if things didn’t improve? He needed keen eyesight to remain a musketeer. If he could no longer see well enough to shoot, to fight, to read, he would have to surrender his commission. What would become of him then?

While he had no doubt that his brothers would stick by him, even take care of him, the thought was unbearable. Useless, helpless, dependent - it would be the opposite of who he was and not a life worth living. Not for him.

“Athos?”

A hand found him in the darkness.

“What’s wrong, Athos? Can’t sleep?” Aramis’ palm felt rough as he touched Athos in his by now familiar sequence - forehead, neck, wrist - checking for fever or pain.

“How did you know I was awake?” Athos asked back. He’d been perfectly still.

“I could hear you thinking.”

“That is ridiculous.” Athos huffed, no longer bothering to turn his head in his friend’s direction. He’d given up on that useless habit two days ago.

“Not when your thoughts are this loud,” Aramis said, and Athos could hear the medic’s soft smirk in his voice.

“If that is the case,” Athos replied, “I will make an effort to think quieter thoughts. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your beauty sleep any further.”

Aramis chuckled, and his cot squeaked as he settled back down.

“That is very gracious of you.”

More squeaking ensued and the flutter of a blanket being rearranged as Aramis made himself comfortable a mere arm’s length from Athos. Silence descended once more, and Athos waited for Aramis’ breaths to even out and confirm that he’d gone back to sleep.

Instead, softly, the marksman’s voice penetrated the darkness again.

“You’re allowed to be afraid, you know?”

Athos’ heart skipped a beat. His throat suddenly tightened.

Damn you, Aramis.

He was their best marksman for a reason, always hitting the bull’s eye.

Athos swallowed but couldn’t answer. He felt tears rise and, for the first time, he was glad about the bandage covering his eyes.

“You’re not alone, brother,” Aramis added, and the certainty in his voice almost broke Athos. “And whatever happens, you never will be.”

Fighting for control, Athos didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a few dozen more aching heartbeats. He just lay there, breathing raggedly and infinitely grateful that Aramis had the presence of mind not to touch him now. Eventually, he released a shaky exhale and nodded.

“I know.”

Dear god, he sounded like glass.

“Now get some sleep,” Aramis said, putting sternness behind his words. ”I’ll be here if there’s anything you need.”

And with that pledge, they both fell silent again, and, after a while, even Athos went to sleep.

***

There wasn’t a grand moment of truth. Not a momentous unwrapping of his eyes to find his sight suddenly and miraculously restored. Like any severe injury, this one took its time to heal, in stages, and at every stage there was no telling if further improvement would show itself. They were all relieved when the infection faded. The swelling went down, the leakage stopped, the stinging lessened. Every time Aramis changed his bandages, his vision improved just a little. Aramis went from a shapeless blur to a silhouette, to a body and a face whose details slowly, slowly swam a bit more into focus. The light didn’t hurt as much. Blinking was no longer agony. Finally, the bandages stayed off, and Athos moved back into his own quarters, one hand still on a brother’s shoulder to guide him through a blotchy, unreliable world, but grateful for his regained freedom.

Every day, he returned to the infirmary for treatment. Every day, Aramis played down the nervousness in his ever-same question: “Any improvement?” And every day, Athos looked around the room, seeing sharper edges, more nuances and, looking back at Aramis, familiar details reappeared: the scars and the stubble, the fine lines around his eyes and the well-tended tips of his moustache.

“Yes,” Athos said, and nodded while Aramis’ trepidation merged into joy.

There were milestones that he took. Losing the bandages was the first. Recognizing friends when someone called his name and he turned around, seeing them approach, was another. No longer feeling for the holes in his weapons belt, but actually seeing what he was doing as he dressed, tied strings, closed clasps and buckles was a step as little and as big as the memorable day when, hands trembling, he opened a book and the blurry scrawl morphed back into letters that he could read.

The damage did not heal completely in the end. When he looked at the bright sky, he saw tiny specks swimming across his vision that hadn’t been there before - scars, Aramis explained - but he got used to them, and they didn’t bother him in his daily life. Reading was more difficult by candlelight now, and Aramis predicted he’d need spectacles at some point in the future, but his long-distance vision had returned as sharp as ever.

Treville put it to a test. He had to. When rumours spread - fueled by the Red Guard - that one of the finest soldiers in the regiment was no longer fit for duty, the captain had set up a series of challenges for Athos to prove them wrong. Athos mastered an obstacle course on horseback without difficulty, demonstrated his swordsmanship in a duel that was over in a few dizzying strikes and - the trickiest test of them all - had to shoot at and hit targets from an increasing distance. While his marksmanship had never been as perfect as Aramis’, it was good enough: His friends whooped as another tin cup became airborne when the ball fired from Athos’ pistol sent it flying.

Afterwards, his fellow musketeers welcomed him back with friendly slaps to his pauldron and words of camaraderie, and Treville stepped in front of Athos with a proud smile to quickly pull him in for an embrace.

When he stayed behind to clean up with the other three, collecting bullet-riddled targets, sweeping up hay that had been strewn about and polishing weapons, Athos let his gaze roam over the garrison grounds, taking in every detail, every pebble and chip of wood, every glint of steel and dust moat floating in the slanting light of the evening sun. Then, he looked at his brothers. He saw d’Artagnan laugh and throw a handful of straw at Porthos, accompanied by some teasing joke. Porthos shook himself, grunting, and cast the young Gascon a sinister scowl before giving him a shove that was never meant seriously. Sitting at the table, an arquebus in his lap, fingers blackened by gun oil, Aramis rolled his eyes at the two but did not suppress a grin.

Athos saw grown men acting like boys, shedding the worry and seriousness of the last few weeks like dead weight. He saw their hands that had guided him, helped him dress, helped him orientate himself in a suddenly blackened world, now slapping each other across the back, cracking silly jokes. He saw their eyes that had been his eyes when he couldn’t see, now shining with joy, three different shades of brown, three different souls looking out of them at the world, Aramis’ gentle ones now settling on him.

“Is everything all right, Athos?”

Seeing worry return to his friend’s gaze, Athos nodded quickly and decided that it was his turn to smile.

“Yes,” he said, and sat down next to Aramis to clean his own pistol. “Yes. Everything is all right indeed.”

(Read all of my Whumptober fics on AO3, here.)

#Whumptober #i know it's november but who actually cares #musketeers whumptober #the musketeers #athos whump #fanfic #continued from prompts 24 & 25 #so you may want to read those first

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dirtyhuantingthings · 4 years ago

Text

The Baroness

Part 3

did you miss part two?

“So how was your night with The Baroness?” Porthos finally asked. They were nearly to the garrison.

“I -uh-no.” It seemed praying Porthos hadn’t noticed wasn’t a successful strategy. “Plants!” Aramis blurted out. “Datura! Queen of the Night!”

“Are you having a fit?” Porthos side eyed Aramis.

“There was a bug trapping..” Aramis snapped to jostle his memory “Nafensis- napresis- nafensus?

“Nepenthes?” Porthos offered.

“Yes!- wait you know about the rat eating plants?” Aramis exclaimed.

“I’ve read about them” Porthos said curtly.

“Whew... Honestly, I was much more worried about trying to explain that absurdity than anything else” Aramis breathed.

“So?” Porthos was curious.

“The concoction she used to knock us out, is made from flowers that only bloom at night. I have a sample. And she made be willing to part with the recipe for a steep price and a blood oath of secrecy, I’m guessing” said Aramis. “So are you going to write her then?” he said after a pause.

“Poetry?” Porthos laughed.

“Hey, don’t I always look out for you?“ said Aramis putting his hands on Porthis shoulder.

“Whatever would or wouldn’t have happened...I just. We should be honest about it” Porthos said as they rounded the corner to the garrison.

Before they could even get past the gates D'artagnan ran up to meet them.

“I know you’ve only just arrived. But I don’t know who else to go to with this” D'artagnan appeared overwhelmed. “Can we go somewhere privately?” he asked.

D'artagnan explained the whole situation very quickly.

“Constance is in trouble?” Porthos said alarmed.

“No, It’s her dearest friend Corinne.” D'artagnan corrected.

“But if her husband skipped town..isn’t that a good thing?” Aramis asked.

“No, he’s left Paris, with Corrinne” D'artagnan clarified.

“And there’s no clue as to where he would have taken her?” Porthos asked.

“Well, we know that the people he borrowed money from are to be taken very seriously. They are looking for him. So leaving altogether, he might be easily spotted at ports of entry. Constance says he’s a known coward, he often lays low until things that have calmed down. It’s reasonable to assume that he’s going to stay hidden until he think they’re bored of looking for him and then flee the country” D'artagnan laid out all the plausible scenarios.

“What are we to do? I mean even if we can track them down? Porthos very much wanted to help but he wasn’t sure what could be done.

“The man is a noted scoundrel, petty crimes, his mean streak while under the influence of drink is well known. It took some doing but, Corrinne’s sister has already spoken to the judge, he’s willing to dissolve the union on health grounds.”

“That’s..” Aramis started.

“Unusual” Porthos finished.

“It appears this judge is quite particular in cases involving mothers; being separated from their children and the fact that this foul piece of” D’Artangan clinched his fists. “Has taken Corinne away and left her young child with her sister. Well -it’s got to work in our favor that combined with Corrinne in the condition that she is, and with the husband afoul of the law, her sister is in a better position to take care of her and her young child until she can recover. If we can just physically get her back here. He will sign the waiver. Corrinne and her child can legally move in with her sister.” D'artagnan looked to his fellow musketeers.

“So you think he’s on the outskirts of Paris, waiting for an opportunity to flee?” Porthos asked turning to Aramis.

“We might have an idea” Aramis said.

Baroness Beausoleil put down her tea cup

“Unofficial business?” The Baroness clarified.

“We can’t reimburse you for-” Aramis started.

“That’s not my concern” The Baroness interrupted. “Why are you doing this?”

“We may not having any legal means of remedying the situation but Constance is our friend and men like -they’re scum” Porthos said through clenched teeth.

“There’s plenty of space here. How long do you need?” The Baroness stood abruptly.

“So you’ll do it?” Aramis brightened.

The Baroness stared in annoyance, narrowing her eyes at Aramis.

“Six days, at most” Porthos answered her question.

The Baroness considered it momentarily “Margot can set you up in some rooms. If you will excuse me, I should already be at the market.” The Baroness turned and walked away.

“Don’t take it personal” Margot said.

The musketeers jumped in alarm.

“Jules has to look after his sick wife’s poor mother and she’s doing the market today in her own. She’s really behind.” Margot explained.

“I can help” Aramis found Baroness Beausoleil counting and recounting a crate of bottles. At least three pencils perched in her tangled mess of curls.

“Oh- no. I just” Baroness trailed off frowning at her products.

Aramis placed a hand on her arm. “It’s the least we can do.”

After everything was loaded onto the carriage and the two of them were well on their way Baroness Beausoleil remained a fidgety mess.

“Is everything alright?” Aramis asked.

“You know the women I told you about?” she ignored his question.

“The ones who are most certainly plotting to murder their husbands?” Aramis half joked.

The Baroness shrugged off his comment. “We meet at a certain time, early. Before the general public arrives. They won’t want a King’s guard sniffing about”

“I assure you I will be discreet. I am a mere work hand hired in Jules’s absence” Aramis pressed his hand to his heart.

The Baroness let out a slow breath. “That will be the best place to find her.”

“What? Who? Corinne?” Aramis said confused.

“Not today. If she just got into town. But by week’s end. If things are how you say. Women who have endured as she has. She will seek me out the moment she has leave to.” The Baroness explained.

“But if he’s holding her captive-” Aramis began to protest.

“A drunk?” A failure of man by all accounts? No he will need her to do the cooking and the procuring of clothes- if they have in fact left in a hurry. A man such as that is not capable of feeding himself. She will be sent out to get food if nothing else and is she is in a mind to see her child again she will become desperate and she will ask around- she will have no choice” The Baroness concluded.

Aramis nodded gravely. Neither of them said much until they arrived at the market. Already busy with merchants, Aramis looked around a the chaos, smiling it reminded him of the bustle of the city.

“There you are!” A gruff older man said in a heavy baritone. “I was just giving you stall away”

“I’m sorry! Jules’s wife’s mother came down with- I got here as soon as I could” The Baroness looked frantic.

“Sorry lad, the Lady has arrived after all” the large man shooed off some orange hair man with a healthy mustache.

“Thank you so much” The Baroness pulled out a bag filled with bottles of what Aramis did not know, but it appeared she had anticipated running into this exact situation. She turned to Aramis.

“We’ve got one half-hour before we open” Baroness Beausoleil turned to Aramis.

The two worked fervently until the sun began to droop over the horizon. Aramis plopped on a nearby stool. This is a lot of work.

The Baroness was talking to a blonde women with two rambunctious children racing around the both of them, screeching at the top of their lungs. Aramis was just considering taking a brief nap when Baroness Beausoleil returned.

The Baroness returned, “That woman there, Mrs. Veilleux, she hasn’t heard of anyone new arriving into to town but if anyone's to know about it, it should be her. She can get word to me.

Aramis beamed, knowing he had made the right decision.

“But that’s it for today.” The Baroness said with some relief.

“Really?” Aramis asked hopeful.

“The rest are special order. I will have them ready for next time. I -just wanted to say thank you, Renee you were of great help today. I wouldn't’ have gotten through the day without you.” The Baroness looked intently at him.

Aramis blushed a bit, his name somehow sweeter rolling of her tongue. He cleared his throat. “It’s not problem at all.

The two proceeded to deconstruct the tent in a companionable silence and loaded everything into the cart just as the late breaking sun reached highest in the sky. The trip back should have felt shorter but it appeared to stretch long on into a muggy afternoon.

Aramis felt hot and cooped up in the small carriage. More comfortable riding horseback. Unaccustomed to being boxed in a cramped space with a breathtaking woman he was not allowed to touch. Aramis tried to think of a last time any woman was considered off limits. He couldn’t. The things he did for love. Porthos better have written a whole sonnet for Alice by the time they got back. I can do this Aramis told himself. I am a supportive friend. They are crafted for each other. They are going visit every library in the country and talk about bugs or whatever else. he was going to be a loyal friend. He was going to increase Porthos’ proficiency in the romantic arts. He was going to...He was going to suffocate if he didn't’ out of this carriage.

“Stop! Stop! Here please” Aramis shouted to the driver and flung himself out of the carriage before it even came close to a stop. The Baroness called after him. He wasn’t quite sure what she said.

“I’ll just need a minute” Aramis called behind him.

He stumbled several yards from the dusty road and leaned against a narrow tree to catch his breath. Get hold of yourself Renee. You’re a musketeer. Aramis took a few deep breaths and up-righted himself. A few paces more and he found himself in a clearing. A grave yard actually. He came across an old stone mausoleum. Over grown with vines most everywhere but the grave markers, the foot paths and the low stones benches. As old as it was, someone was doing their best to keep it up.

“Have you someone here?” The Baroness’ voice came from behind.

Startled Aramis whirled around. “No.” Aramis shook his head “ Coincidence. I just saw this clearing I just needed- the heat” Aramis failed to come up with a viable excuse. The Baroness skirts were hiked up to her thighs to keep from snagging on the brambles. She had a light sheen of sweat that glimmered across her brow. Aramis couldn’t bring himself to look higher than her waist line. She handed him water bladder he accepted it gratefully. But wouldn’t look at her. Couldn’t, look at her.

“We should really” Alice started but Aramis took a few steps back.

“Apologies Baroness. If I could just have a few more moments.” Aramis asked backing into the square courtyard.

“Of course.” Alice said backing away.

As if being pulled on a string Aramis felt himself drift towards her. As if he let her leave now, he’d never see her again. An absurd thought. Six days. He just had to keep himself together for six days. He could manage this. He would be busy tracking this scoundrel and he just had to. Aramis felt the wind shift. It blew threw her hair and that dammed fragrance, what was it? It filled his every thought. Aramis closed his eyes against it, trying to shut it out.

“Are you sure you’re alright.” Alice looked concerned.

“To be honest Baroness Beausoleil. I’m starting to re-think if it’s appropriate to h-house, perhaps there is a close enough establishment, that. I could -find” Aramis’ fractured words echoed off of the stone courtyard.

The Baroness stood patiently.

Aramis was dotted in sweat. “I won’t be able to ride back with you I’m afraid, Baroness Beausoleil” Aramis concluded hands gripping each other behind his back.

“You intend to walk back to my estate?” Alice said with a smile.

“I Intend to locate another means of traversing the road and yes I will reconvene with you just as soon as I follow up on an in-inquiry.” Aramis stammered.

“An inquiry?” Alice took a step towards him.

“If you could just” Aramis tried to think of something reasonable to say.

“Just?” Alice took another step.

“Alice” Aramis pleaded.

The Baroness strode past Armais and set at the top of the stone steps. “You have until the sun reaches there” She pointed in the sky. “You do whatever you need to do but then you come back with me and you find is man” she instructed. “Before anything happens.”

Aramis swallowed. “That’s just it. I know time is short. I haven’t had a single thought in my mind other than. Since - I’m seeing your face- Just tell me there’s no chance. Just-” Aramis was at the Baroness’ feet now.

“What is keeping you from focusing on finding Corinne?” The Baroness asked.

Aramis climbed up one step and then another. He teased at the edge of the Baroness skirts with his fingers. “You know” He looked sheepishly up at her. Tentatively Aramis inched his hand upwards under the Baroness’ skirts. Past her knee, toward her inner thigh. He pressed his lips against her in adoration, his and fingers working on concert until he felt her tense and shudder and settle.

It didn’t take long to retrace their steps and locate the carriage, the driver patiently waiting. The Baroness looked composed but Aramis did a poor job of hiding a wide smile even as they pulled back onto the estate.

#the musketeers #aramis x porthos #porthos #aramis

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ezrisdax-archive · 4 years ago

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Meme: RvB ;)

And Musketeers, because it’s been a while

Give me a fandom and I’ll tell you:

red vs blue:

My favorite parent-child relationship: well it sure isn’t the Director and Carolina. Tucker and Junior hands down, I wish we had more of these two interacting, absolutely love proud dad Tucker

My favorite sibling relationship: you know it’s the Grif siblings, you haven’t gotten there yet but oh boy is there a part in season 17 that makes me emotional about them

My favorite family relationship (other): Church and Carolina, I love that they consider each other siblings no questions

My favorite friendship between two people: I mean I ship it but also Simmons and Grif are just fun

My favorite friendship between a group: the Reds and Blues in general, they are a family even if they won’t admit it. like you guys can split up now you idiots and yet-

My favorite mentorship: Sarge and Caboose in what moments they do get together is always fun

My favorite rivalry: Red vs Blue lol, okay aside from that...well...there is something but it’s a huge spoiler for you so I’m not gonna say it yet

My favorite hatred/antipathy: all of them being annoyed with Omega

My favorite potential relationship between characters who never talk in canon: Kai and Grey, you don’t know who that is yet but sheer madness of these two characters talking is something a desperately need

musketeers (it’s been 84 years)

My favorite parent-child relationship: I’m trying to think who has kids and who I like in this situation. I think the best I can choose is Treville to the Musketeers. but only season one Treville, I’m pissed about season two Treville and Porthos and the fact that he’s just??? lied to him all his life?? and oh you didn’t actually raise yourself up from the court of miracles he helped pick you~ fuck off.

My favorite sibling relationship: the only siblings I remember is Louis and his sister who visited that one episode and I will admit I liked them

My favorite family relationship (other): The Musketeers and Constance of course

My favorite friendship between two people: you know what I have to put here. like this wouldn’t be tumblr user ezrisdax if I wasn’t saying Porthos and Constance on every level. look at how much he cares about her in season one!! he and Aramis are the ones who talk to her when she’s worried in the last episode, they’re the ones who say they don’t like lying about it to her and that they should absolutely go after her when she’s missing and Porthos in the episode with her cousin?? is just soft with her?? god I was robbed of these two.

My favorite friendship between a group: aaagain the musketeers

My favorite mentorship: Aramis and Porthos and Athos with d’Artagnan. absolute disasters teaching a new disaster.

My favorite rivalry: I mean we fucking could have had Rochefort and d’Artagnan rivalry like the books where they were frenemies but nooooooo. fine I guess Treville and the Cardinal

My favorite hatred/antipathy: Milady and Constance

My favorite potential relationship between characters who never talk in canon: Flea and Constance. (I mean c’mon, this is me, sometimes I legit forget they didn’t meet in canon I’ve built it up so much in my head)

#fonapola #replies in thirty minutes or its free

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aramis-dagaz · 6 years ago

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How do you come up with names for your fictional settings, factions, characters, etc? -a fledgeling DM

In all honesty, through a lot of pain, wailing, gnashing of teeth, beseeching of dark and eldritch powers, and wrestling with my crippling self-doubt. I can come up with an interesting and intertwining system of government, religion, social castes, and the history of it spanning a thousand years in a day, maybe longer if I’m doing a lot of research. Coming up with names will literally take me weeks, completely stalling the project until then. God help me if I ever have children. If you have trouble coming up with names, you’re not alone.

In the naming of things, you’ll want to follow these three Rs: Research, wRite it down, and Remix. - Research: exactly what it says on the tin. Hit the books, visit websites, keep your ears and eyes open to anything that sounds or looks interesting. - Write it down: you will forget. Don’t let those thoughts get away from you. Also record where you got those ideas from so you can revisit that particular well. - Remix: the fun and/or painful part where you torture your initial fodder into something useful.

Thankfully, there are a lot of tools and resources to help make this process easier, though it really depends on whether you’re basing your names on an existing or historical culture or making something more unique.

If you’re basing your naming schemes on existing cultures or fictional settings, then your best bet is https://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/. This site, by far, has name generators for just about anything you can possibly want as well as generators for things other than names. Best of all, Emily, the site creator, explains her logic for why the names sound the way they do.

Another good resource and the one I use probably more often than fantasynamegenerators is http://www.behindthename.com/random/. This site provides actual real-world names along with some mythical, ancient, and literature-based names. Best part of using this site is that you can look up what the names’ etymology, historical development, and what they actually mean, which is perfect if you like to give your characters symbolic names. There’s also a sister site for surnames as well, https://surnames.behindthename.com/.

Sometimes, though, you’ll either not find what you’re looking for on the previous sites or want to dig a little deeper into the logic behind certain naming schemes. In that case, you’ll have to do some legwork. Doing an Internet search for “[whatever] name generator” or “[whatever] name lists” can help. Avoid baby name sites, they are complete garbage. Wikipedia can also help if you want lists of kings or historically important people (such as this list of ancient Egyptians, though admittedly these are for very important people who had their names written down somewhere, so your mileage will vary). This will help you at least get an idea of what these names look and sound like, if not actually create as-close-to-authentic names as you can. Also look up the languages involved so that you know how they look, sound, and are put together. Anglicized versions of names from non-European languages can be fraught with peril, as the combinations of letters you read don’t always translate to what you think they should sound like (especially Irish Gaelic and Chinese. Whomever did the Latinization of those languages needs to be slapped).

If you want to make names that are essentially just basic words from another language (like naming a character “Radish”, only in, say, Japanese), Google Translate is a good start and will give you an idea of what those words would look like written in English as well as similar words. However, I highly recommend trying out other online translators as it’s already firmly established that Google Translate is not completely reliable. I named a character this way, Altarus Almakhzun, which is bastardized Arabic for “Gears Inventory”, which fits because he’s supposed to be a djinni artificer.

If you’re looking for place names that are based on a real world culture or language, a good method is hopping onto Google Maps or getting an old road atlas that shows all of the tiny towns and villages, picking a random spot, and then just wandering around, making note of any interesting-sounding place names. If you’re ever on a road trip, keep a piece of paper and a pen handy to jot down interesting names you see on the roadsigns, but please please please be careful if it’s just you driving.

Okay, that covers names that are at least grounded in some version of reality. But what about truly unique names?

In all honesty, the sky’s the limit and you’re kinda on your own. But here’s my process: - Start with a strange or interesting-looking word or name (eg, Inpalav evolved out of Impavide, meaning fearless, the motto of the 90th Missile Wing) - Find the syllables and sounds that appeal to you. Make a list. - Load those syllables and sounds into the Hadron collider of your brain. Smash them together, rip them apart, twist them into a fractal gordian pretzel as many times as you please - Take a few of the results that stand out, and then mutate them through a thousand permutations, swapping out letters and syllables each time - Imagine someone saying this name in casual conversation, awed, reverent tones, and at the top of their lungs swearing eternal vengeance - Pick the ones that pass this Darwinian struggle

That said, though, here are a few other rules to make sure that you have something that’s workable: - Say the name out loud. If you can’t pronounce it on command, adjust it so you can. - Make sure how it’s pronounced and how it looks jive together. In my experience, I’ve found names that look cool and sound cool, and they don’t always coincide. - Keep apostrophes to a minimum. One per name is fine, especially if the apostrophe is culturally or linguistically relevant, but avoid them if you can. - Share your ideas with friends and see what they think. If they immediately think of a cutesy nickname for your Dark Lord of Ancient Evil or just immediately call your Elven Prince of a Thousand Apostrophes “Bob” in lieu of twisting their tongue into a klein bottle, it’s back to the drawing board.

Once you have some workable names, think about the fictional etymologies of them. You don’t need to go all Tolkien here and actually write out the exact origins of these names, but at the very least think about a few rules for this particular culture. Does the name mean something? Are there any common or reoccuring syllables? Does a particular syllable denote something about the character, such as gender, place of origin, or social class? This will help make the names feel more real and part of a larger culture.

A couple examples from my own settings: - The Fhalsnir are a very widespread species and have multiple cultures (they are the humans of the Firmament), but there are a couple of etymological holdovers from their homeworld. Typical names are about two to four syllables long and typically end in -ig, -rig, -vig, or -ith (eg, Sorvig, Sorvith, Maegrig). -ith is usually considered feminine, but cultural drift and change has made that rule largely irrelevant in the present day. Some cultures cleave to these rules, some ignore them entirely and adopt names from other cultures and languages, and most adopt some combination thereof. - One culture names everyone with numbers, with some of the longer names resembling a fantasy version of an IP address (given name, parents’ names, clan/tribe name, perhaps town of birth, etc). Should such a character found a ruling dynasty, they may end up be Primus of the Third Dynasty of the Nation of Seven, with their parents retroactively given negative number names for the history books, never mind that Primus of Third (informally Prime-Three) was originally Twelver, child of Octus and Quint, born of the Fiftieth Tribe of the One-O-Sixteenth Province.

As a reward for reading all of that, I’ll share a couple of links for some more esoteric and whimsical names: - 16th-19th century Puritan names: https://aramis-dagaz-imaginarium.tumblr.com/post/134169440876/brookenomicon-sonnetscrewdriver - If you want to give your characters some descriptive names but want to use some very esoteric words, such as Sagacious Zu from Jade Empire, this site has got you covered: http://phrontistery.info/clw.html - A collection of blog posts on names, including some random generators, ways to create fantasy names, and some name-based humor for writers stressing out over naming characters: https://aramis-dagaz-imaginarium.tumblr.com/tagged/names

Hope this helps! May your characters and nations get the memorable names they deserve!

#worldbuilding #midnight-mod #names

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zitis-sims-adventures · 6 years ago

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Week 1 Part II: One Woman’s Meat

It was late and they had long finished watching the movie. School would start in a few hours and Arishat knew she’d regret not getting enough sleep. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to call it a night - not when Lydia was sitting right next to her, close enough that her arms occasionally brushed hers.

“So, what do you think? I totally have to grow some snapdragons and dragonfruits. But there’s so much space down there - I could plant an entire forest!” She was talking about the underground garden. It had always been Lydia’s favourite place and Arishat recalled countless happy childhood memories of the two of them playing in the cave underneath the mansion, between colorful wild plants that miraculously needed as little sunlight as the owners of that mansion. In his youth, Lydia’s dad had grown plants there, but it had not been used for many years now. It was Lydia’s passion for gardening that had revived its original function. It was that passion, the glimmer in her eyes when she talked about the things she cared about, that had made Arishat first fall in love with her.

“You can never go wrong with garlic and plasmafruit here,” Arishat said with a smirk. As a kid, she had made a game out of playing all kinds of garlic-related pranks - much to the annoyance of the vampires around her. Then one day, Valentine had repayed her by secretly putting plasmafruit in her soup. She’d learned her lesson from that.

Lydia laughed. “Always so practical. I guess you won’t be impressed by some useless daisies.”

“Nah, I think anything you’ll grow will be impressive.” Arishat blushed as she said that and she was certain that Lydia’s cheeks darkened as well.

“Well,” Lydia said quietly and moved closer, “I’ll try not to disappoint you then.”

“You’d never disappoint me”, Arishat replied without hesitation. She put a hand on Lydia’s back and for a short moment they were so close that their faces almost touched. For a moment she even thought they would, but a sudden surge of insecurity made her move away again. “It’s late. We should call it a night.”

Lydia nodded, but there was a flash of disappointment across her face. “Of course.” With a little smile she stood up and walked towards the door.

“Wait.” Arishat caught her arm and Lydia halted in front of the fireplace. “I want to ask you something.”

Lydia gave her a surprised look. “Yes?”

“Well, you know... I was just thinking, we’ve been spending so much time together lately and...” While she spoke, she slowly moved closer towards Lydia and Lydia closer to her, as if a magnetic force was pulling them. “Maybe... maybe we should go out sometime?”

Lydia’s eyes went wide and round and her cheeks flushed again. “You mean... like a date?”

All of a sudden, Arishat felt very hot. She averted her eyes and stammered “Something like that... but only if you want to. Otherwise we could just do friend stuff-”

“Of course I want to,” Lydia exclaimed.

Now it was Arishat’s turn to pause for a moment, because in her head she had already played through all the possible ways of being rejected. Lydia actually wanting to go on a date with her was not what she was prepared for. She looked up and there was nothing in Lydia’s face that said “just kidding”. Instead, there was a smile on her lips and that glimmer in her eyes that Arishat loved so much. She didn’t know what to say, so she did what seemed most logical to her in this situation: She stepped forward, closed her eyes and - more clumsily than she had pictured in her head - kissed Lydia.

Most guests had already left the lounge bar, to hide from the moon like others hid from the sun. But for Lady Edeltraut von Wolfenberg the night had only just begun. It happened to be a date night. She tilted her head and smiled at her lover. “You’re quiet tonight, Aramis. Is something amiss?”

Aramis sipped on his drink - a Plasma Jane, even though he wasn’t a vampire - and shook his head.

Then he frowned, looked behind him and sighed. “I don’t know. I feel like someone’s watching me. It’s strange.”

“Do not worry, my love”, Edeltraut said with a fond smile. “If some fiend were to approach you, I would not hesitate to rip his head off and feed you his blood.”

“I don’t doubt that, darling, but I’d much rather have a quiet night just with you.”

Oh, how sweet and devoted Aramis was! Even the sweet taste of blood shed by his enemies didn’t tempt him away from Edeltraut. No one had ever shown her that kind of affection. Certainly not her husband, not even in his youth, when he had possessed enough charm to seduce her into the very marriage she regretted now. No, Aramis was not like Fravitta, he was unlike any man she’d ever known. He, and he alone was her soulmate, and nobody would come between them!

Neither Aramis, nor Edeltraut knew was that not far from them a very special kind of fiend was sitting on a bench, reading a book and plotting to come between them. Walburga had followed her mother in her bat shape, tiny and undetected. She hated seeing Edeltraut with Aramis, but she knew that it was important to keep her enemies closer than her friends and that in order to defeat someone, she first had to know him. So she resisted the temptations of the library back home, of Xuvia’s bed, of the million mortals in this city, filled with deliciously hot blood. Instead, Walburga hid, hid behind plants, behind pillars, or right in the couple’s shadow, overhearing their sickening sweet words and wondering if there was a way of murdering Aramis without her mother noticing.

“We should do this more often,” Aramis said after a couple of hours and drinks. He seemed much more relaxed and happy now. Apparently, Edeltraut’s declaration of protection had dispelled his worries about being stalked, and of course his soulmate’s presence had lightened up his mood.

“We should, my love, and we could,” Edeltraut said, not paying attention the the person who had just taken place on the seat behind her. “If I were to give you my hand in marriage and my plasma to drink, we could live together for the rest of our eternal unlives and to everything that pleases us.”

Aramis seemed a bit uncomfortable with these words. Edeltraut supposed that this was only natural: He had not been born into a family of vampires, he had been raised to believe his life had to end one day, he had never tasted the sweet flavor of plasma. “But darling,” Aramis said, “you are already married.”

“I am, but I do not have to be. When I said my vows, I was young, I was ignorant, I did not know what the words meant, nor did I know true love. Now I do.”

Aramis gave her a weak smile and took her hand. “I know. And I want to be with you just as much.” He kissed her knuckles and stood up. “But please, let’s continue this another time. I’m tired and should go.”

They shared a last, passionate kiss, before Aramis left. Edeltraut stayed, a fond smile on her face.

“So you want to destroy your family just like this? How can you do this to me, mother?!”

Edeltraut sighed. She should have known that Walburga had followed her when Aramis had mentioned his suspicion. “Dear girl, I don’t remember teaching you to put your nose into things that are none of your concern.”

“How is it not my concern when your selfishness threatens my inheritance?”

“Careful, Walburga,” Edeltraud hissed, growing impatient with the girl. “If I really wanted to, I would have ways to make certain you will never inherit my place, let alone carry the family name. But I don’t want to, because you are my daughter, and because you are no threat to my plans.” She smiled, and as Walburga walked away, she couldn’t help but call after her: “Remember your place, sweet girl, and there will be no reason for us to be an unhappy family.”

“So, you and my little sister?” Valentine asked with a smirk. He’d been waiting for this to happen for a long time.

“Yeah,” Arishat replied, obviously not too happy talking about it with him.

He decided to continue anyway. What was the point of being a big brother, when he couldn’t even play the role of an overprotective idiot? “Well, I’m happy for the two of you. But just so you know”- he raised his arms in a dramatic gesture -“if you hurt her, I’ll have to make sure you suffer a slow, agonizing death.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Arishat didn’t seem impressed at all. “Romantic advice from someone who’s with a different woman each time he gets home.”

“Or man,” Valentine added with a grin. She wasn’t wrong though, he’d broken his share of hearts in his lifetime. Not deliberately, of course, it’s just what happens when you’re a painfully handsome guy who wants to enjoy life.

And that had gotten a lot easier since he’d met Elliot. That little group of his was certainly entertaining.

Just the evening before he’d made the acquaintance of another member, the lovely Harpina von Steinsaltz.

And he was sure it hadn’t been the last time they met.

Walburga had never been one to admit defeat easily. For hours she had glared at her mother enjoying herself, having another couple of drinks and swimming in the pool. But now, as Edeltraut von Wolfenberg was about to leave the lounge bar, she approached her again. “You’re making a mistake, mother!”

“And what mistake would that be?” Her mother was still smiling. And probably rightfully so, because Walburga still hadn’t figured out how to talk sense into her mother. Why didn’t she understand that her poor daughter didn’t deserve the fate of being cast down, robbed of her birthright?

So she was admittedly clutching at straws when she said, “He’s just a mortal, and not a young one - he’ll die and leave you alone.”

“Don’t be silly, Walburga,” Edeltraut sighed. “I shall turn him into a vampire as soon as we exchange rings.”

“But then he will be even more frail for a while,” Walburga reminded her. “What if he forgets that he can’t go into sunlight anymore?”

“Are you THREATENING me, Walburga?” For the first time, something other than smugness showed on Edeltraut’s face. Walburga was pleased about that, even though the accusation appalled her.

“Of course I’m not threatening YOU! If anything, I’m just threatening your boyfriend!”

“You wouldn’t dare to-”

“I’d do anything to prevent your selfish, evil deeds from destroying my life!”, Walburga growled and walked away from her mother for the second time today.

This time, she seemed to have made an impression, though, because Edeltraut remained silent.

#queens and conspiracies challenge #sims 4 #house von wolfenberg

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veneataur · 6 years ago

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A/N: I’m not sure there’s all that much whump in here, but Treville was hard to whump. We’ll go for light emotional whump. Porthos and Athos do make an appearance, though keep in mind that they don’t know Aramis at all at this point, which influences their reactions in this story.

Prompt: Insomnia

Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Title: Losing Focus

No warnings

He remembers the exact date when he stopped sleeping. March 11, 2011. The day he found out that Aramis was MIA. It was a frantic call from Aramis’ mother at two thirty-seven in the morning. He almost didn’t answer from sheer exhaustion. Ben and Tim kept him busy during the day. It was a whirlwind of events after that. His contacts gave him little information and nothing that seemed true. Insubordination, negligence, cowardice. And criminal charges looming. The words didn’t seem true.

He saw Aramis once at the base hospital after he was brought back, a few weeks after the incident. Physically he was better. Not back in good health but better. And then the man was drummed out on charges everyone but Treville could believe. After a short stay at his sister’s, Aramis was gone without a sign.

The first few weeks he searched constantly. He skipped his lunches and stayed late after work, on the gut instinct that Aramis would return to the city of his youth. Every tall, wiry, wild-haired person he glimpsed out of the corner of his eyes his heart would start and his stomach drop. But it was never him because the picture he has of Aramis now is scrawny with a buzz cut to treat a head wound and shrunken over. Not the same Aramis he knew.

The effort is more than exhausting. He stops eating a lot as his stomach can’t take it and keeps a bottle of ibuprofen nearby for near consistent headaches. There’s been the more than odd occasion that one of his men finds him sleeping off a migrant on the couch or simply given in to his body’s demand for rest. He worries about Aramis, about Sarah, about Tim and Ben, about work, about his teams of Musketeers. He spends the nights lying awake in bed so as to not worry Sarah by wandering aimlessly around the house. It was easier, he thinks, during the school year to keep up despite the lack of sleep. But it’s summer now and when he gets home from work, the boys want to play. And Sarah’s had them all day, so it’s his turn to take them to give her a break. They don’t mean for their play to worsen his aching head or drain the last of his energy. And when Ben wins at Connect 4, it’s not because Treville lets him. His focus is gone and considers himself lucky to have gotten the game piece in a slot at all.

He wakes up on the third Saturday in July to Ben jumping in their bed. Tim stands near the edge of the bed, always the more quiet child. But, he supposes, Ben has reason to be excited, after all, it isn’t just any day that you turn ‘a whole five years old.’ As much as he loves his two boys, his worry over Aramis has left him with just a couple hours of sleep. That has to stop.

“Come on, dad. You gotta get up. We gotta get ready before everyone comes,” Ben says, trying to pull his dad up. Treville groans and rubs at his eyes, trying to wake up. Sarah’s been sick lately, so it’s up to him to get up and get the boys ready.

“Alright. Both of you go get your faces washed, get dressed, and make your beds,” he tells them, hoping they’ll hurry off now that they’ve gotten him up. Ben waits a moment until Tim nudges him along and soon Treville has silence once more.

“You going to be able to get them ready,” Sarah asks voice heavy and low.

“Of course. You just focus on feeling better. Come down whenever you’re feeling up to it.”

Treville forces himself out of bed. In the bathroom, he stares at himself for a good several minutes, leaning his hands on the counter as he tries to wake up enough to complete the basics. It’s only when he hears the boys running down the hall that he sticks his head out to stop them.

“You can head downstairs and watch some cartoons until I get down there. If you want something to drink, get some water from the fridge. I’ll be down soon to get you breakfast.”

He then forces himself to move quickly with clumsy tired limbs through the morning ritual until he’s finally dressed and ready to go downstairs.

“Do you need anything, Sarah,” he asks.

“No, thanks. I’m good. I’ll be down soon.”

“Don’t rush it. Take care of yourself first and text me if you need something.”

Sarah nods and slips back under the blankets. Treville prepares himself to go downstairs. The bed and his wife’s company is almost too appealing. He could just postpone Ben’s party. The guests would understand, but that wouldn’t be fair to Ben, he reminds himself. Sarah understands his need to find Aramis but the one requirement she gave, and as much as he wars with himself about it he agrees, is that it can’t interfere with the boys’ lives. He can’t neglect them to find Aramis and he wouldn’t, he doesn’t think so. He hopes he would never.

“So, what do you want for breakfast,” he asks with a forced cheerfulness.

“Pancakes!” the boys say at once. Treville just barely holds back the sigh because he can’t let them know that is the last thing he wants to make this morning.

“Pancakes it is then.”

He starts in the kitchen by getting out the flour, eggs, milk, sugar, butter, and baking powder. He starts by getting some sausage links going and then starts on the pancake mix. Once the batter is together, he remembers the sausage, smelling it as it starts burning. In the move to get the sausage, he runs into the bowl of pancake batter, knocking it on the floor.

“Damn it,” he says. Now, he’s got a mess to clean up.

“Is everything okay, dad,” Tim asks from the edge of the kitchen.

“Yes, just a little accident. Go back and watch cartoons with your brother.” Tim waits another moment before walking off. Treville turns off the sausage first and sets about cleaning. Seconds later, two sets of small hands join him on the floor in cleaning up. He blames the lack of sleep for the blurry eyes. With their help, the floor is cleaned in short order and he can get back to the pancakes. But he can’t get himself off the floor.

“We can just have cereal, dad,” Ben says.

“Yeah, cereal’s fine,” Tim agrees.

“No, we’re making pancakes,” Treville says.

“We?”

“Yes, we.” He didn’t mean necessarily that the boys were going to help, but he’s not sure that he can get breakfast together without their help. It’s not the first time they’ve helped in the kitchen. “Tim, do you mind measuring out the ingredients. Ben, once he gets things together, you can work on stirring everything, okay?”

Unsurprisingly, there are no complaints. Treville jots down the recipe for Tim and sets the boys up with a couple of step stools so they can see above the counter they’re working on. The boys don’t always get along, but this morning, fortunately, they do. They work together, with Tim doing the measuring, as Ben hands him ingredients. Ben watches carefully as Tim explains how to measure ingredients and crack eggs. But even as he watches proudly, he thinks of Aramis wowing his fellow cadets with cookies and cakes.

Then he reminds himself. He has to be here and present, not wandering. Aramis may be like a son to him, but these are his boys and Aramis would be angry if he were neglecting them.

“Excellent job measuring, Tim.” It’s forced but not because of their effort. “You ready to start mixing, Ben?”

“Yeah.” Ben nods seriously.

“You’ve got to take it real slow,” Tim says. “And gentle. Like this.” He demonstrates with a few stirs before handing it off to Ben. “How’s the sausage looking, dad,” Tim asks with feigned absentness as he watches Ben. Treville turns it and goes to the fridge to get some fruit. He pulls out a few apples.

“I think he’s got the stirring down, Tim. You up to cutting some fruit?”

“Mom’s never let me use the knives.”

“I think you can handle them. This what we’ll do.” Treville grabs a couple cutting boards, a knife for him to use, and a knife that would easily fit in Tim’s smaller hand. He talks Tim through the process of carefully cutting as he cuts off a large wedge that will lay flat on the board. He sets the first piece flat on Tim’s board and tells him to cut it up in chunks.

“Like this, dad,” Tim asks. He’s got everything in position to cut but hasn’t made the cut yet.

“Your fingers tucked away?”

“Yep.”

“Good. The last thing we want is a trip to the ER.”

Treville watches closely as Tim slowly cuts the apples. Ben is done with the batter by the time Tim has cut half of the apples but he won’t rush the boy. It’s his first time using a knife, so he’s expected to move slowly. As he watches them, he once again nearly forgets about the sausage, but he catches them in time to turn the fire off before they burn. While he starts cooking the pancakes, he sends Ben to set the breakfast bar. He doesn’t feel like getting the dining room dirty this morning. Now in a steady rhythm, breakfast is done quickly and they can sit down to eat. The boys devour pancake after pancake but for him the nausea he feels from a lack of sleep means he nibbles, eating a pancake and some fruit before he pushes the food away and tries to ignore the smell of the food.

Afterward, he sends the boys upstairs to clean up while he cleans the kitchen. It’ll be getting dirty soon with the party at 1 pm. It’s a BBQ with all of Ben’s friends from preschool and some of Treville’s Musketeers, the ones who the boys have taken a shine to like Athos and Porthos. He wasn’t surprised to find Porthos to be good with the boys but Athos was a surprise.

He should get the preparations going. He should get the decorations out and get a start on the food. But breakfast took what little energy he has. He moves sluggishly from the kitchen to the den where the good couch is. It’s comfortable and welcoming. He lays down face first to give his body a break from standing up and it feels wonderful to stretch out. From his toes to his shoulders, he enjoys the feeling.

“Are you okay, dad,” Tim asks.

“’m ‘ine, Tim.” The pillow muffles his words.

“You don’t look it. You look like when you or mom sends us back to bed because we didn’t sleep enough and are cranky.”

Treville pushes himself up, feeling his body protest the movement. He leans against the back of the couch, closing his eyes to ease the growing ache behind them. Tim climbs up on the couch next to him.

“I’m just tired, Tim. It’s been a long week. Where’s your brother?”

“Watching cartoons. You’ve had a lot of long weeks.”

Treville shouldn’t be surprised. Tim is six going on seven and more observant than he expects.

“Yes, a lot of long weeks and little sleep.”

“Will you find him?”

“I hope so but right now, we need to get ready for a party.” Treville tries to stand but finds himself back on the couch as his head spins.

“Do you want me to get mom?”

“Um…” Treville works to gather himself. “No, mom’s sick and needs her rest.”

“You’re sick, too.”

“Just a little headache and dizziness. Do you mind grabbing me a juice bottle from the fridge? I don’t care what flavor.”

As Tim goes off to get the drink, Treville stretches out on the couch but forces himself not to lay down. He just needs a moment’s rest and something to drink. Something to sort out the dizziness. He’d like some ibuprofen for the headache, but the bottle’s put away in the cupboard and he doesn’t want Tim to go rummaging for it. He thanks Tim for the juice when he comes back with it and slowly drinks. Halfway through, he sets it aside to close his eyes. The headache is pounding and he needs to get rid of it.

Then he’s slowly opening his eyes, blinking as he comes back to awareness.

“How’re you feeling, Captain,” Porthos asks.

“Huh?” Treville tries to sit up but a firm hand keeps him stretched out on the couch.

“You fell asleep. Tim called and said you and Sarah were sick,” Athos says. He’s standing down by Treville’s feet, which are covered with a blanket.

“The party.” Treville starts again, this time succeeding in pushing off Porthos’ hand, though he overbalances in the movement and would’ve toppled over if not for Athos’ quick movement.

“Is all set up for. People should start coming in about half an hour. We thought you’d like some time to get cleaned up,” Porthos says.

Treville sighs. “Thanks. I was supposed to do it, but I was just too tired to do anything. I messed up. Failed him.”

“Ben’s been having a ball helping to set things up. He knows you’re not feeling good but he’s not upset.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s the one rule. They have to come first, over him. Over Aramis.”

“Easier said than done,” Athos says. It’s not absolution but an understanding. “Look, Ben is happy. He was overjoyed to see us come to help set up. It’s one time and no reason to beat yourself up over it. It’s not going to do any good.”

Treville nods. He’s not ready to forgive himself but he does hear the reasoning.

“Seriously, though, Captain,” Porthos says. “You have to stop this. I don’t know who this Aramis is, but it’s clear that he means a lot to you. Everyone’s looking for him when they go out, but in this city, it’s worse than a needle in a haystack.”

“I’m going to find him.”

“You don’t even have a clue where he is. He might’ve gone elsewhere and you’re beating yourself up over nothing, running yourself ragged for a man who’s far from here.” Porthos refrains from what he feels is the truth: Aramis is dead. From what he understood, the man was in no shape to be out alone, mentally or physically. Topped off with the weight of the OTH discharge and being responsible for a massacre, which Treville flat out denied Aramis could have been, and the man probably met an untimely end but was at least out of his misery.

“I know that no one believes me. I know that,” Treville says. “But you don’t know Aramis like I do. The man is a fighter and a creature of habit. He’s around here somewhere and he needs help. My help. I promised his parents I’d look after him as though he were my own.”

Treville pauses, leaning back into the couch to gather his thoughts. He’s grateful to these two men for coming over and helping. They didn’t have to on their day off. Both, however, have become senior officers and trusted members of the task force. More than that, they’ve become good friends of his family.

“You’re right though,” he concedes finally. “I have to stop this. I don’t know how, but somehow because Ben and Tim shouldn’t have to deal with this. Tim shouldn’t have had to call you two and you two shouldn’t’ve had to come do the work I should’ve been doing. Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

“Jean?” He hears Sarah call out for him. “Where are you?”

“In the den,” he calls back.

“What are you doing in here? Hi Porthos, Athos,” she says walking through the doorway.

“I fell asleep, I guess. I wasn’t feeling good this morning. You feeling better?”

“Yes, but it’s not going to last for long.”

“Huh?”

“Ben’s going to be a big brother,” she says.

“You’re…”

She nods. “Number three. I had a hunch this morning and decided to find out. How’re you feeling about it? The timing’s not the best.”

“Perhaps not, but welcome news still. Ben’s going to be so happy to have a little brother or sister to play with and teach like Tim does with him.”

“Both of them will be but what about you, Jean? You haven’t said how you feel about it.”

“Come on, Athos. We should probably leave,” Porthos says.

“No, you two are fine.” Treville stands and goes over to hug his wife. “I’m happy, elated for another child. I’m tired though. My focus hasn’t been where it should but it will be. I promise.”

“I don’t expect you to give up on Aramis. And I believe you. Okay?”

Treville nods. “Thank you.”

“Now, you should probably go get cleaned up while Porthos, Athos, and me work on getting the last things together.”

“When do you want to tell them,” Treville asks.

“In a couple days. Let’s let Ben have his day. Now, go get ready so we can get the party started.”

#bbc the musketeers #fan fiction #treville #athos #porthos #ocs #windy city musketeers #modernAU #emotional whump #whumptober

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 2 years ago

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A/N: The movie isn‘t even out yet in my country and my Aramis feels return already with a force. I wrote a self-indulgent little sister drabble. No plot, just fluff. Imagine the Aramis you like best. ☺️ (an ordure is a sort of nuisance in human form ^^)

The level of stealth you were currently demonstrating made you wish to congratulate yourself. Up here, on the small balcony none of the musketeers ever seemed to use, you had found a hiding place of uncompared genius. Here, you could point the harmless old musket of your brother at all the heads of the guards who had sent you funny looks throughout the week. It was a very meditative passe-temps. It also saved you from the tasks random musketeers‘ wives tended to give you, simply because you were a woman passing by, a woman who didn‘t seem like she was occupied enough. But no, thank you, you were not entirely interested in stuffing any stinky socks. No no, you had weapons to clean and secret letters to carry around and a brother to tease. Why didn‘t these men stuff their socks themselves?

You were about to fake head-shot a man named Gerard who was telling nasty jokes by the fountain of the corps, when someone suddenly dropped down on the small space remaining next to you, like a lazy cat who‘d happened to find its way over to you. You hit your nose hard on the cold metal of the heavy weapon in your hand and let out a pain struck groan.

„Whatever did Gerard do to you?“ Your brother asked in his most nonchalant of ways, his left elbow meeting your right one as he settled down, mimicking your position. He was holding an apple in his hand.

You spent a moment grieving the peace and quiet and the integrity of your nose, before you retook your aim, glaring at Gerard over the tip of the musket.

„He‘s an ordure.“

Aramis chuckled, taking a noisy bite from the apple, before offering it to you. You wanted to ignore him to keep from messing up your aim, but the rumbling in your stomach betrayed you. You took the apple from Aramis and peeked a glance in his direction. He was already looking at you with that bemused quizzical look in his eyes, the one that was so individually him that it tended to make you emotional. Therefore, you quickly put on an unbothered expression and avoided his eyes.

„Are you enjoying or hiding yourself up here?“ He asked, putting his chin up on his hand.

„Why are these mutually exclusive choices?“ Your sour mood fit perfectly to the taste of the apple he had handed you. „Maybe I’m brooding… Did you give this apple to me because it tastes like it‘s poisoned?“

„Obviously.“ Aramis responded, smirking when you moved to hit his shoulder with your fist. „I‘m afraid I might be doing you a favor with it.“

The slight concern mixing into his voice made your eyes wander back to his face. His eyes were always gentle and bright when they looked upon you. They made you wish to curl up again his chest to be held and rocked and protected for a while. He was probably here to find out if you were in need of any of that.

You simply extended the apple with a raised brow, a daring look on your face, before looking back at the group of musketeers around Gerard. The aim wasn‘t perfect but you did manage to hit the leadspeaker of the nutbrains against the arm.

Aramis quickly covered his mouth with his hand to hide the snort that threatened to break out when Gerard started turning around himself in an infuriated attempt to find his offenser. You had to chuckle at your brother‘s reaction and soon your conjoined mirth got increasingly harder to suppress. Tears were showing in your brother‘s eyes, from the laughter he tried to silence with his palms and you could feel your own cheeks starting to hurt from smiling widely along to his shaking shoulders. All the while a wild Gerard was running in circles like a little chicken, pulling his rapier and wielding it around.

Aramis bent over and hid his smily face at your shoulder, bursting with quiet laughter when Gerard fell over a chair.

Your fingers held him close by his arm and you realized that you were sad and that you missed him and your feelings crashed inside your chest like a wave against a rock. He was the best brother any young woman could wish for. But he was getting more and more involved in politics and it started to feel like the two of you were drifting apart a little. Missed were the nights you‘d spent drinking and laughing with the three of them - your brother and the chosen brothers. You missed making fun of Aramis with Porthos‘ help, missed the way your brother always managed to get Athos to smile when he wanted it the least, missed seeing him scribble poems on napkins by the light of a candle while Porthos advanced as quietly as possible to steal it from him. You missed the easiness of the less politically active days.

After he‘d managed to calm down, Aramis took a deep breath and put his head against yours. It was the weight of hin that made you feel comforted in a way. You listened to him breathe for a while before wrapping your arms around his neck. As if he was surprised but moved by your sudden affectionate impluse, he cooed gently and put his arm over your back to pull you close. But due to your position being slightly inconvenient, he wasn‘t quite able to physically deal with your need for cuddles, which led to him falling on his back and you tumbling right on top of him.

The mixed emotions in your chest made you break out laughing instantly. Grinning, he looked at you, your fists on his stomach and your chin coming down to his chest. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, his hat making his eyes look like little sparkly lights in the shadow it threw over his face. You couldn‘t stop laughing - he wouldn‘t allow it anyway, riling you on with his cheeky smirk - so you threateningly held up your finger in his face. He raised a brow and made you laugh even more with the funny faces he pulled.

„Stop it!!“ You wheezed.

He gasped. „I‘m not even doing anything!“

With a yelp he jolted when you dug your fingers in his sides, but he quickly got a hold of your wrists. Chuckling softly he managed to prevent any further tickle attacks from your part, wrestling with your weak attempts of breaking out of his hold. Your laughter was making you weak - under any other circumstances, you would have obviously won against him.

Eventually you got too weak for wrestling and for laughing and you merely lay down, your cheek on his chest. He was a lovely person so he started rubbing your back which was so calming you could have easily fallen asleep. Instead, you started moving, inching up higher until your head was on his shoulder, his arm holding you close.

„Bonjour,“ he welcomed you, making you smile slightly, „how about you tell your big brother how you‘re doing now?“

You shook your head gently and closed your eyes, feeling the slight breeze of the summer wind on your face and the warm arm of your brother around you.

„Right now, I am perfectly fine.“

You could feel the muscles under your ear tense hesitantly, but he seemed to accept your silence nontheless, for now, indulging you with the quiet of the afternoon, merely broken by a few musketeers‘ voices from the courtyard.

For a few minutes, the politics of France didn‘t play any part in your life. And you could sense that your brother was just as pleased with that as you were.

#les trois mousquetaires #the three musketeers #aramis #y/n #little sister imagine #sister imagine #(y/n)#aramis little sister #the musketeers #fluff #also i still need more smol ticklish aramis moments in my life #i bet he‘s hard to catch #but he must be the sweetest giggly person #alexandre dumas

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cutiepiepotatoes · 7 years ago

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Love you, but in which way?

Fandom: the musketeers Warning: none

When you land a foot on the dirty floor of the street in Paris, when you inhaled and breathed the smell of horse, food, wine and people all together, when heard all this agitation and all these voices at the time, you just smiled. You knew you wouldn’t be able to leave this new place because you already fell in love with it. As if fate steps in, a bunch of musketeers walk in front of you and enter the garnison, and you follow right after. No one notice you right away but you see him. Him. D'Artagnan. His hair was a bit longer, he looks older but wiser, he seems stronger than before. And he has a woman in his arms while talking to what seems to be his friends or team even. They’re all laughing and he bends down to kiss the pretty redhead. Anger and sadness take control of your mind and you have to squeeze hard your fist before letting the tears fall down. You step in and grab him by the collar, pinning on a table near by. “You stupid bastard! Is that why you left me?! You met other people and forgot ‘bout me, didn’t you??!” The other three men grab you and hold you away from D'Artagnan, while you keep kicking in the air and trying to get free. “Let me go you filthy assholes!” “Damn she’s feisty! Even more than me!” Says the woman. “Y/N stop! Just calm down please! I promise I’ll explain everything! I love you!” People around you stop at that and the woman begins to have tears in her eyes, the men to shocked to keep holding you. “Oh please, don’t lie to me, everything but that!” “I’m not! Just…please listen to me” he looks so despair that you just nod, still angry and upset. He ignores everyone else, looking in distress, but ignores all questions and shuts them by talking loudly to you in front them: “When I came here after getting revenge, I found everything I wanted: a fiancée, a team, a place where I felt at home, I just…umm I found a real family. I immediately was happy. Yes I didn’t contact you or anything, and for that I’ll always blame myself. But I never stopped loving you, thinking about you or wanting you here with me. I’m sorry, I truly am, Y/N. I hope you’ll forgive me and you’re more than welcome to stay here. I always wanting you to met my new family.” He finishes with a small smile, a tear falling down his cheek. You reach out and whip it away. “I just hoped you would have come and get me, took me with you in the first place.” He nods and hugs you so hard you think your bones will break. “It is sweet, but what the hell is going on?!” The woman yells, obviously hurt, and breaks the embrace. “Were you already married D'Artagnan?” Asks, in a threatening voice, a tall man, named Porthos if you heard right earlier. D'Artagnan and you exchange a look and made a disgusted face “What no! We’re siblings!” You both yell at the time. It wasn’t obvious but still! You have some things in common! After a long silence, everyone breath and chuckle a bit, truly relieved. “Oh thank God, I was so scared!” “Constance, darling I’m sorry, I love you. And Y/N too but as my baby sister” your brother says while kissing her. “Don’t looks so baby to me…” whisper Porthos and make you smirk at him, he winks at you. “Let’s go the tavern and I’ll explain everything to everyone.” “Only if you pay Secretive Boy” says the one who seems to be the leader of the team. “Don’t worry, it’s my turn. Oh and hands off of my sister Porthos. I thought I was only going to keep an eye on Aramis but apparently I was wrong!” your brother says, serious but with a playful, while raising his hands in a defeated manner for fun. You all head towards the exit, Constance turning to give a sincere smile full of hope for a good friendship between you two, which you return vigorously. She looks so nice and for the sake of your brother, you would give it a shot. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly feel a warm hand on the small of your back and look up only to see Porthos smirking down at you and leans to whisper in your hear “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” “Oh trust me, handsome, even if he learns it, he can’t say no to me so don’t worry, we can get to know each other anytime you want” you answer with a seductive smile on your lips, your finger trailing on his uniform. Oh boy this travel in Paris to kick the ass of your brother was actually the best idea of your life. It’s going to be really, really interesting…

#the musketeers #dartagnan #the musketeers imagine #porthos #dartagnan imagine #d'artagnan #d'artagnan imagine #porthos imagine #bbc #bbc the musketeers #imagine #writing #au

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zukadiary · 7 years ago

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All for One ~ Moon Troupe 2017

This was my first live Tsukigumi since Puck. And really, the only Tsukigumi I’d seen at all since then was Aasa’s A-EN and part of one Arthur stream... so yeah, long time no see, Tsukigumi. I’m not sure anything can beat HOT EYES!! in terms of how far past my expectations it flew... but this is a really close second.

All for One is an original Koike-sensei fantasy involving the Three Musketeers. It’s 2 acts, and I was concerned that it would be presented in a questionable state of doneness and not interesting enough to hold my inevitably sleep-deprived attention. I was very wrong!! The first thing I did after leaving the theater on Tuesday was hunt down a good seat for today, and now I’m kind of desperate for a third chance. This show presses buttons I didn’t know I had (but apparently denim capes and barrel throwing are real turn ons for me).

--BRIEF SUMMARY, WILL INCLUDE SPOILERS!--

The story is very silly even for a comedy, and nearly all the punchlines are pretty groan-worthy. Chapi is not actually Louis XIV but his twin sister; she was supposed to be tossed aside when they were born but they gave away the wrong baby, and raised her as a boy while frantically searching for the real Louis to no avail. So she’s assumed the role of king, and meets d’Artagnan (Tamakichi) when he’s brought in to give her fencing lessons. d’Artagnan gets overexcited and knocks her down, she gets upset (mostly from being compelled to fence in the first place) and orders him to leave the Musketeers. Later, sick and tired of pretending to be a man—especially now that her mother is trying to concoct a plot marry her off to the Queen of Spain (Umino Mitsuki) despite this lie—she puts on a dress and wig and goes out to mingle. She sees d’Artagnan in a bar drowning his sorrows with the other Musketeers, and starts engaging him in conversation in hopes of drawing his feelings toward “the king” out of him. They fall madly in love! Meanwhile, everyone else in the bar starts making fun of Cardinal Mazarin (Itsuki Chihiro), whose nephew Bernard (Tsukishiro Kanato) is the captain of the royal guard. Bernard and some guards walk in just in time to see this, and the Musketeers are ordered to disband as punishment. They find the real Louis while visiting Porthos who has taken another job as an actor, and the rest of the show is just kind of a general hullabaloo of Chapi trying to figure out how to avoid marriage and be with d’Artagnan, and the Musketeers trying to get the real Louis into the palace and their band back together, while Bernard continues trying to ruin everything. Act 1 felt more polished; it has some really big impressive musical numbers (and I’m always wowed by Tsukigumi’s overall vocal level when I see them live). Act 2 felt like Koike ran out of steam a little; it was more generic Takarazuka, and the final chaotic series of fights on the rotating stairs reminded me an awful lot of the end of Kenshin. He’s also clearly still really excited about sword noises (not complaining... so am I).

It’s not the story that I fell in love with as much as the incredible balance this troupe has APPARENTLY DEVELOPED WHILE I WASN’T LOOKING, and I think Koike’s biggest success here was putting every little piece in exactly the right place to maximize that balance. We all joke that Chapi is the real top star of Tsukigumi, but in All for One she essentially was. MiyaRuri and Toshi are so obviously more polished than Tamakichi, but they don’t hold back, and instead of showing her up it highlights her purity. Reiko definitely doesn’t mesh yet, but Bernard is a ridiculous character, so she’s free to be awkward for now and still totally succeed... plus she’s a type that I think really adds something to the troupe. Ari has the challenge of being overly masculine and funny, and she’s still finding her feet but it’s a great time to make her try this. The energy of the troupe overall has gotten so much less competitive and more FUN AND HAPPY since the last time I watched them. I did not think making Tamakichi a premature top star would accomplish that, but it seems it did, and I’m so glad I was wrong... this Tsukigumi is truly a delight, and I hate them a little for making me want to continue throwing them my money.

My highlights...

Manaki Reika as Louis XIV/Louise: Completely the star. Every time I see Chapi I think about that 2012 Christmas TV special where she barely knew how to talk, and every bit of growth makes it harder to believe she’s the same person. It’s so fun to see her dance, order people around, do a boy and a girl and both voices (and SING in both voices) all in the same show. I also love that they don’t make her do the standard musumeyaku only-think-of-your-partner thing, and lower herself to raise Tamakichi up; it was so much fun with them both at the center.

Tamaki Ryou as d’Artagnan: I found Tamakichi SO COMPLETELY CHARMING in this, she has the overgrown puppy appeal dialed up to 1000. I just LOVE that they’re aware of her youth and USING IT instead of trying to hide it, and lord I hope that’s not a one-off thing. Having her play the wide-eyed hopeful pure hero/young man IN LOVE (circumstances be damned) worked so well, especially coupled with her very imposing stature—it was adorable. It’s kind of a weird feeling, because she’s definitely not my type, but I still loved watching her so much, just with like... a completely energizing and not life-ruining happiness. IMAGINE THAT.

Miya Rurika as Aramis:

You know that feeling, when you see that one role, played by someone who you *like* but who isn’t *yours* or anything, and you can’t even say “this was a brilliant portrayal because of xyz,” but you’re like, ok, this is just the trash can where I live now, please forward my mail...

That’s all I’m going to say, lest I risk descending into impurity.

(RIP the lady she targeted during her solo today, with a last second lunge, several rows back from her usual spot)

((Also, she just seems so much more comfortable with both Kacha and top stardom (?) out of the picture. I guess I don’t know if it’s just 3 years’ growth or if a weight really has left her shoulders, but either way it’s made her lethal x1000))

(((Also, her lips are like a Rococo painting. Who looks like that??)))

Uzuki Hayate as Athos: Not generally being a watcher of Tsukigumi, this is probably the first major thing I’ve ever seen Toshi do (although one time I took an internet quiz and it said she’d be my boyfriend). I do know this was kind of a big deal role for her to land, and I loved her in it very much. Her LOOK is ON POINT, and she really completed the chemistry of the main-4 group as the serious one. I particularly liked the dynamic between her and Ari, when they paired them—”SIGH, don’t drink that,” etc.

Akatsuki Chisei as Porthos: Ari still has a lot of growing to do, but her youthful exuberance and the fact that she’s a giant person worked really well for big, strong, (perpetually drunk?) Porthos. She also had some of my favorite individual scenes, featuring the hurling of shockingly large objects at her troupe mates. I’m glad she’s getting a role that’s forcing her to stretch herself, and I think more than anyone she’ll get better and better as the show progresses.

Tsukishiro Kanato as Bernard: Predictably, Reiko is completely Yukigumi... but in her favor, she BROUGHT THAT SHIT TO THE SWORD FIGHTS, dear lord girl. Bernard is a safe stretch for her, if that makes sense... it’s a comedic role, which is not her forte, but he’s ridiculous enough that she can go over the top with it, which I think is easier than finding subtlety. And she looks DAMN GOOD all in black, and consistently flanked by Kizuki Yuuma *swoon* and Chinami Karan, who also look damn good in their dark metallics and wildly colored hair (this show really is looks for days). Reiko has also adopted Chigi’s exact furrowed eyebrow smolder face for finale numbers, which is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, and VERY WELL suited to her particular brand of otherworldly beauty.

Saou Kurama as the Dutchess of Montpensier: I’m here for Lady Koma. She’s in love with Louis and determined to teach him the joys of indulging in women until she figures out what’s really going on. It’s not a huge role and not strictly necessary, but it definitely adds another layer of charm and silliness to the story, and it is what it is specifically because it’s Koma.

I also particularly enjoyed Touka Yurino as Chapi’s mother.

I think I could watch this every day until I leave. I’m not even sure why I love it so much... it’s pretty dumb. But I love it. Tsukigumi, this was not our arrangement, you were supposed to leave me alone.

#takarazuka #reviews #all for one #Dramatic S(ummer 17)

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xiiaoshuo · 4 years ago

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1-10 for the character you have the most muse for

ask games: 𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

oooh i actually had to think about this a bit . i think i'll go with emrys bc a ) i always have some desire to play him && b ) i think his answers would be the most interesting for this set of questions . answers below the cut !

1: Origins! How did you come up with the concept for your OC?

lmao oh this one i know for sure . so in a lot of rpgs i used to be in for mutant-based roleplays , there’s always a ban on immortal characters . it’s a bit of a godmod / op power but only if you pair it with something else , i realized . so i set out to create a muse that had an op power but you could in no way , shape , or form argue is op . so emrys . . . i love him but idk if he’s particularly scary , god-moddy , or even useful in anyway . just super annoying .

2: Were they originally well received by the fandom? Or if they’re fandomless, did the RP community take to them right away or was it hard to get attention?

i actually can’t remember ! emrys is one of my oldest muses && i first introduced him when i hopped onto tumblr maybe urgh gosh . . . maybe eight years ago now ? in general , he’s been positively received by many despite how annoying && mean he is . he’s definitely a character , i’ll give him that . he has a lot of personality that i think people find really fun to play against .

3: Has your OC gone through different incarnations during their stay on Tumblr? Were they reimagined or have they stayed the same all this time?

god he’s been through so many ! i think of all the muses i’ve had , he’s probably undergone the most number of face claim changes , even compared to muses i’ve had just as long . his ethnicity has also changed , which impacted his backstory . this was intentional , since i really wanted to explore more asian diaspora stories && i saw a lot of potential in emrys’ story to delve deeper into that . however , the general spirit , outline , && vibe of his backstory has stayed the same . extra stuff has come && gone , but he’s pretty recognizable to when i first started with him .

4: How do you get into your OC’s mindset to write for them? How do you find the muse for them?

the way i’ve always described emrys is that he’s my id . he’s every comment i’d think about saying but would never say but like . worse somehow . for a lot of other muses , i feel like i put more thought i guess ? into what they’d say . i listen to a lot of music that i associate with them , think about their past , etc . etc . . . . emrys is 100% off the cuff , this is what a dick would say there u go enjoy .

5: Were you nervous about putting your OC out there? How long did it take before you decided to play your OC here on Tumblr?

i don’t think so ! he was actually near immediate && part of what i affectionately call “ the original four . ” my original blog all those years ago ( 🚬 ) started out with aramis && roman , also in very different forms but now on this blog . then i added phoenix shortly after , who is not on this blog but actually predates all three of them ( also in a different form lmao ) . so emrys’ entry into tumblr was pretty immediate !

6: What is your OC’s family situation? Do they get along? Do they fight? Or are they alone?

l m a o uhh he doesn’t talk to his parents or his family . he’s had explosive fights with his parents his entire childhood && teenage-hood . he && his sister arabella are constantly arguing && trying to one-up each other somehow . he left home the night he graduated high school without saying goodbye && after stealing most of the cash he could easily find in the house .

though , that’s not entirely true either . he does still talk to his younger siblings jacqueline && lorcan , jacqueline moreso . they text regularly && whenever emrys dumps his phone , he immediately adds jacqueline to his new one && lets her know he’s changed his number . he doesn’t make an extraordinary amount , but he makes some royalties from the poems && other books he’s published , which he sends about half to jacqueline to pay for medical school .

7: What does your OC look for in a friend? Do they value friendship a lot?

emrys has a lot of friends , but very few close friends . the people he ends up close to are people who don’t judge him , even in passing . he’s extremely sensitive to being perceived as lesser than or offputting or wrong in any way . he calls it “ toxic energy , ” but he just generally wants to be somewhere he feels safe && accepted without question . in general , he doesn’t feel the need to connect deeply with anyone except for the few relationships he’s built over the years . those are definitely ride or die — far more literally than most would think .

8: What does your OC look for in a significant other? Are they looking at all?

nope ! emrys is actually aromantic && doesn’t really feel romantic attraction to anyone . in the entire time i’ve had him , he’s had one significant other than he fell hard for && it was probably by chance more than anything . he just found him charming && liked that he was kind of a himbo , i guess . he also was very supportive && physically affectionate , which is important to emrys in general .

9: What is your OC like when at work? Are they diligent? Slacker? Do they get along with their co-workers?

at the bar , emrys is all charm && all play — which i guess is pretty productive && in line with what’s expected for a bartender . that being said , he tends to like to do the social stuff like talk up customers && get to know them more than he does cleaning or “ tending ” anything . that part probably drives his co-workers up a wall , but he seems friendly enough . except for the part where he sneaks out the back right after his shift ends , which makes him somewhat detestable more often than not .

when it comes to writing , he works on things in small amounts over a long period of time . he usually jots phrases down , writes in the margins of books — even his own notebooks . but every once in a while , he’ll find a quiet spot && just gets to work , where he can produce a large body of work in a relatively short amount of time . is all of it good ? who knows .

10: How do they deal with strangers?

god uh , emrys loves interacting with strangers . typically , he sees it as a new opportunity to make up a whole new identity && backstory for himself . new lies , new accomplishments , new tragedies — he likes the new canvas to work with && figuring out what the stranger finds charming && fun . he likes being the center of attention in general && strangers are usually people who still find him novel so .

#( ! * emrys : answer )#( ! * emrys : headcanon )#thanks for the ask anon !#this is more thinking about emrys than i've done in a while l m a o

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hufflepuffmarlenemckinnon · 6 years ago

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Of the Essence 16/22

A Marauder’s Era Fanfic

Pairings: Blackinnon, Jily

Rating: Teen-Mature for language and sexual themes. I will warn for the two later chapters that get a little steamy.

Word Count: 22k+

Summary: Sirius and James semi-inadvertently invent a new potion. It’s consequences to Sirius’s personal life are anything but straightforward.

A/N: I am a complete failboat at using Tumblr as a platform for my fic, but I am giving it a go and moving my current WIP over from here.

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12Ch.13 Ch.14 Ch.15

Sirius looked on while James futzed about with his hair and clothes, as if Lily Evans didn’t already know exactly what he looked like.

“Mate, you’re overthinking this.” Sirius rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Well I might say you’re under thinking it! You’re wearing that?”

Sirius looked down at his muggle clothes. He thought the leather jacket was cool. And didn’t everyone wear jeans with holes in them? What was the point of wearing jeans if they didn’t look like they’d been in a war?

“Yeah. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing if you like the whole Muggle dumpster look…”

“Perhaps I do.”

“Well then…” James cringed, disapprovingly, in his best friend’s direction.

So the 7th year Gryffindors, in their vastly different attire, headed out to the courtyard to meet their dates. Both Sirius and James were brimming with excitement, though either would be loathe to admit it out loud.

Their respective dates looked much in sync with their own style of dress. Lily was in a very pretty understated long sleeve dress. Marlene wore a denim jacket that looked like it had seen better days. Her yellow boots were as bright as her smile. Her hair was as it always was; a lifeform unto itself.

Sirius thought she looked perfect.

“Marlene, you’ll recognize the head boy and girl, James Potter and Lily Evans. Sometimes present on the map as Lames Pevans. Lames, this is my beautiful girlfriend, Marlene McKinnon.”

“The big haired badger who stole Padfoot’s heart.”

“It seems like vaguely unflattering nicknames are these boys specialties…” Lily pointed out.

“And these two stragglers are Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.” Sirius gestured in the direction of the other two Marauders, who approached.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you Marlene. Sirius has been acting very strange lately. I hope you’re proud of your accomplishments.”

“Are you saying that he didn’t act strange before?” Marlene teased.

“Fair point…I like this girl. We should keep her.”

“I’ve promised to meet the band of merry badgers. Would you lot like to come along?

“Well, I’ve always wanted to spend a Sunday with a band of merry badgers! What are we waiting for?” James’s enthusiasm was contagious amongst the group of 7th year Gryffindors. They all knew the McKinnon twins anyway, so it wouldn’t be too strange, Sirius reminded himself.

Marlene lead Sirius by the hand down the hill a ways, to where her brother and sister were waiting. The rest of the group trailed behind them.

Grace McKinnon’s gaze felt like having Mad-Eye Moody look at you with his magical eye. She looked at the young couple as if she were searching for something in their posture or aura. They looked at each other with a silent question of what the hell she was getting at.

“Well then. I see that rumors of Black’s successful acquisition of our baby sister’s virtue are not without basis in fact.”

She busted out into easy laughter which Marlene mirrored. Sirius stood by looking perplexed at the sisters.

“Oh please… that isn’t even a rumor. Don’t be ridiculous Gracie. She’s just trying to be as embarrassing as possible, Sirius. Don’t mind her.”

“Of course it’s a rumor. I may have started it myself!” Lucan elbowed his younger sister in the ribs.

“So everyone knows brother Lucan? He’s the one I told you would have been the easier catch amongst the McKinnons still here at Hogwarts.”

“You called me easy? Rude. And I don’t even swing that way.”

Sirius silently thanked the stars for another Mckinnon sibling who was of incompatible orientation. Because surely if Lucan McKinnon had actually been interested then he would have already been down that road. All the Mckinnons were quite good-looking. He was glad not to have to face that awkwardness in this already strange uncharted territory.

Thanks again stars.

Sirius thought the Sunday afternoon in Hogsmeade was going quite well. He and his friends all seemed to be getting along with Marlene’s close in age brother and sister, and watching her interact with all of them was a treat. She was quick and witty. His chest needed to get its act together right now or he was going to sabotage his own reputation with all this… giddiness.

They hadn’t finished their picnic yet when trouble found them. Specifically, trouble in death eater masks.

There were four of them approaching, so the group of students doubled them in numbers and it shouldn’t have been much of a challenge all things being equal. But they never were. It was anyone’s guess who was behind those masks.

“What do we have here? The meeting of the filth and blood traitors society?” The male voice was familiar. Lestrange maybe?

Sirius threw up a shield in front of himself and his friends as soon as he could grasp his wand, but not before he heard Grace’s scream. A slicing curse hit her straight across the face. She was bleeding. There was no time to evaluate her wounds.

“Think you’ll be able to be so choosy with a face like that, Mckinnon?” Another male voice growled.

Grace realized this was Aramis Avery. She stood up from where she’d fallen bleeding and shaking with anger, drew her wand and cast another shield in front of Sirius.

Cries of “Incarcerous!” and “stupefy!” rang out behind Sirius. James hit one of them with a stunner but it didn’t stick. The Death Eaters were too quick.

Lily Evans sent a stinging hex in Avery’s direction and it hit him dead on.

“You nasty little mudblood. Did no one ever teach you to respect your betters?”

The witch who held her wand up to Lily was unmistakable as Sirius’s own cousin Bellatrix. He felt sick to his stomach as his close blood relative cast a confringo at the tree they were using as shade. Lily and Peter both fell under the weight of it. James and Remus, seemingly unharmed, cast another set of protective spells and darted to where their friends lay injured.

“I’ll hold them off. Get them to Madame Pomfrey.” Sirius, standing at the front of the group, yelled back to the others after casting another protego.

“Lucan, take Grace.” Marlene met eyes with her brother, who nodded.

He took his wounded twin sister by the hand and apparated the two of them somewhere out of sight, hopefully near to someone who could get her medical attention. James and Remus followed suit with Lily and Peter, respectively.

Sirius looked back at Marlene to tell her to get to safety, but before he could get a word out, everything turned red. Pain. Nothing but the pain of thousands of poison needles beneath his skin. Then it was like fire. It was only when he was released from the cruciatus and he felt the soreness in his own throat that he realized he’d been screaming.

“Until next time, cousin.” Bellatrix spat at the ground near where he was still reeling from the torture curse.

The four Death Eaters disapparated, apparently having achieved what they came for. Those goals were quite opaque to Sirius, but it was hard to put thoughts together at all. He could see the outline Marlene’s gold hair but was having trouble focusing in as she knelt in front of him.

“You idiot…” were the last words he heard before he passed out.

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zitis-sims-adventures · 6 years ago

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Week 1 Part IV: Moving On

“I’ve tried everything!” Walburga hissed and made angry vampire gestures, almost knocking over the pile of wooden sticks on the game table.

“I tried to convince her best friend to break them up, but she thinks they’re perfect together.”

“Then I tried to bribe him with my entire Flower Egg collection - and he declined! Do you know how much that’s worth?!”

“And then I threatened him. But he just. Won’t. Give. UP!”

“Can’t imagine why,” Valentine replied dryly and gently pulled a stick from the pile. But after a couple of drinks it was hard to do things gently - to inanimate objects that is - and so the entire stack came crashing down and the llama figurine on top tumbled to its side, looking vaguely disappointed at him. Or so he thought, the thing always had the same expression.

Her sudden victory seemed to cheer up Walburga, for a moment at least. But the smug smile left her face as quickly as his fighting spirit had left him just now. “Seriously, what should we do? You can’t want this, do you?”

Valentine sighed. “And why should I care?”

“Because I’m you’re sister and you wouldn’t want to see me hurt because my selfish mother disowned me!” She paused dramatically, before adding, “And also because of Lydia.”

“What about her?” Valentines pretensions started to falter. It was hard not to worry about his little sister.

Walburga seemed to sense that she was onto something. She leaned closer and looked him right in the eyes. “You know what. She’s in love with Arishat, she’s always been. But do you really think she’ll choose marrying Lydia over being my mother’s heir? Especially when she’s granted the gift of eternal life?” It was almost touching to see Walburga being so concerned about their younger sister. But before she could make the moment actually touching, she of course ruined it by adding, “It would be so horrible for me to see Lydia suffer. I don’t deserve being disowned and then having to take care of my poor, heart-broken sister.” She had some good points though - Arishat was a decent girl, but even good people couldn’t always resist promises of power. And Valentine didn’t want to see any of his sisters hurt either. Not even Walburga, overly dramatic and selfish as she was.

“Well, I guess we can’t do anything right now,” Valentine said and sighed again. He disliked intrigue too much to take part in any of Walburga’s games, but the alternative wasn’t very pleasant either. “Care for another drink?” he asked, already half-way towards the bar. But before he could make it full-way, he spotted someone that made him change his mind. With a sour expression he turned to Walburga. “Then again, maybe I’ve had enough tonight.” He threw a meaningful glance to the bar, where Lady Edeltraut von Wolfenberg was sitting, obviously waiting for someone.

When Aramis walked into the room, looking at her in clear admiration, Edeltraut kne she’d chosen the right attire. It wasn’t a woman’s duty to look pretty for her men - if anything, the men should take on that role. But every now and then she enjoyed the attention, especially after all this time they’d known each other. Yes, it really had been a long time, even though it felt like yesterday since she’d met the young and handsome nobleman at a celebration in the new Queen’s honor. And now their children were quickly growing up, choosing their own paths, falling in love themselves.

Aramis was still the most handsome man Edeltraut had ever known, but his raven hair would turn white and his smooth skin wrinkled. And while Edeltraut was certain he’d still be beautiful, she couldn’t deny that their days together were getting fewer and fewer. It was time to make sure they would really spend them together.

And as they passed the evening with delicious beverages, sweet words, joyful laughter and reminiscing about the old times, she grew surer and surer that she wanted to spend every day of Aramis’ remaining life with him.

By the time they paid their drinks and retreated into a dark corner to drown into each other’s embraces, Edeltraut had made a decision.

It was a few hours before sunrise and Fravitta was playing chess by himself, when his wife approached him. His heart ached as he looked up at her and saw how beautiful she was today. She was always beautiful, but today she was dressed in red and so revealing that not a single part of her shapely, slender body was left to imagination. It had been a long time since she’d dressed like that for him.

Edeltraut sat down in fron of him and spoke the dreaded words, “I have to talk to you about something.” He knew what would come next. He had anticipated this moment for years now. Still, it hurt to actually see it come to this.

“So it’s true? You’ve finally decided to destroy our family for good?” The words came out harsher than he had planned and she looked actually shocked at them. That actually made him angrier. It wasn’t her who was going to lose everything.

He stood up aprubtly, accidentally knocking over his black king. He wanted nothing more than to leave. But she didn’t even let him do that. “Please, Fravitta,“ she said. “Wait.” She looked sad as she rose and touched his arm. “We cannot keep denying the truth forever: we are not meant to be married. And we can never be happy as long as we are.”

“Then who are you meant to be married with? That Rasmey boy who isn’t royal or important or even a vampire?”

“Yes!” Edeltraut hissed. “Yes, I’m meant to be married to him. He is the love of my life and I’ve sworn to let nothing come between us anymore!” He flinched at her words, but she continued, “And shall I tell you something, Fravitta? Even if he wasn’t there, I would still divorce you! We have been married for an eternity and you have proven that you are not worthy of being husband of the Lady von Wolfenberg! You are soft and gloomy and weak as a mortal - you are more of a second child in need of care than a man who is my equal! And THAT is why we’re not meant for each other!”

Fravitta’s anger faded into sadness as it dawned on him that it was too late to sway her. That it had been for a long time. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from pleading, “Don’t do this, Edeltraut. Please don’t do this. If not for me, then think of our daughter. Our family!”

“Our daughter is strong. This will be difficult for her, but she will get used to it eventually. As for our family...” She just sadly shook her head. “There is nothing that could ever repair it.” Then she turned into her bat shape and flew away.

And as Fravitta walked out of the library, he couldn’t help but agreeing with her last words.

#queens and conspiracies challenge #house von wolfenberg #sims 4

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