C O N T R A D I C T I O N.

independent ARAMIS OF THE MUSKETEERS books && bbc based private && selective written by HANNAH est. feb 2014 reboot feb 2016 please read the RULES before interacting

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

BIG MASSIVE ENORMOUS MOST IMPORTANT NEWSFLASH!!

feel free to follow a new rebooted and insanely slow Aramis over HERE now. insanely slow. but at least not disappeared...

[mitchellwrites]

deathless ♚ sentence meme

[nimueriesarchive]

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

You are going to break your promise. I understand.

You’re lonely too.

It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.

I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.

I am your servant.

I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.

For you alone I will be weak.

I belong here, and you will not deny me.

I say these things, and the world listens.

I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.

In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.

I moved the earth and the water for you.

You will always run away with her.

You will always lose her.

You will always be a fool.

You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.

You have already done all of this and will do it again.

No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.

We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.

What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.

There need never be any rules between us.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.

Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.

I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.

Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

I can’t abide a poor liar.

You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.

Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.

In his own country, Death can be kind.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.

I am no one; I am nothing.

Nothing in me was not made by you.

A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.

Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.

If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.

What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?

Don’t you dare speak to me like that.

I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.

I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.

I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.

I have learned to watch everything die.

I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.

Are we not devils?

No one is now what they were before the war.

I have not seen you without your skin on.

Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.

We obsess. It’s in our nature.

I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.

In war you must always choose sides.

If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.

We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

After love, no one is what they were before.

I have survived, but I have not been spared.

In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.

Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.

It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.

You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.

You will be so beautiful when you are old.

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.

I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.

I still want to kiss you.

My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.

What happens to anything beautiful?

I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

&&.

[frankcasttlle]

Aramis in The Musketeers season 3

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

▼ :Are there popular head canons for your character that you disagree with? W

:: ▼ : Are there popular head canons for your character that you disagree with? Why? (x)

:: ( there aren’t that many popular headcanons generally, I think, simply because the fandom is pretty tiny, and you can count the number of roleplayers on both hands--- but a headcanon - made canon by the bbc - I disagree with probably is Aramis’ neverending search for love and the desire to have a family. I always enjoyed that he doesn’t care about any of that in the novels, merely pays some money for his bastard son and sees him occasionally, and that’s the end of it. I will always prefer Aramis seeking power and recognition over him looking for love. If we’re being honest, he’s too self-centered for anything else... ).

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

Aramis: When have I done anything rash or irresponsible?

Athos: I keep a list. It's alphabetized.

[bxnevolence-deactivated20190119]

She can’t deny how much she enjoyed herself last night- he certainly had proof of that. Still, there’s so much to be done and… and…

And she can’t think of a single thing that needs her attention right now. 

Damn him.

She grins, eyes wide with mirth. “But tell me, Aramis; how much sleep might I be expected to get if I did return to bed?”

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

      Responsibility, burden, nuisance--- there is a country to protect, a king to keep safe, some oath to the crown he had sworn to fulfill, yadda yadda. All Aramis feels inclined to do, is to once again lean back against the pillows, and smirk in an almost boyish way. Surely nobody would miss them too much if they disappear for just one day.

        ❝That would entirely depend on how many hours you plan to return to bed for--- But I would believe the prognosis for sleep generally isn’t very good.❞

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

✍

:: ✍ :Offer 3-5 tips on how to get other role players started on interacting with your muse (x)

:: ( 3-5 tips, let’s see---

take a look at my verse page. it’s still missing a verse or two currently, but I do have some good crossover stuff that might help getting various fandoms together, in case your muse is not from the musketeer fandom, or any fandom set necessarily during that same time period

send me a meme. it’s the fastest and easiest ice breaker and unless I’m overwhelmed with replies as it is, I will absolutely answer and I do believe that I put an effort into my replies and will enable you to continue that meme

IM me with a plot idea. please don’t send me a simple “wanna play?” because if we’re mutuals, the default answer to that is always yes. have at least an idea in mind, brief is enough

make sure you have read my rules, and always, ALWAYS please make sure we are in fact mutuals, meaning you follow me, I follow you back. do not send me stuff if I’m not following you. it will not make me check out your blog (I do look at every new follower I get quite quickly) and it will not make me change my mind. on the contrary, it will make me think you’re disrespectful and it might end in me blocking you. so checking if we’re mutuals is the first thing you wanna do, really

just say hi. I’d like to think I’m nice and talking to me is fairly easy, so just come talk to me. about whatever. and in the course of a chat we can always come up with plot ideas. I 100% have a tendency to frequent roleplayers for new threads, that I have a good ooc relationship with. if we talk ooc, there’s a good chance that I’ll be up for any kind of shenanigans with your muse ).

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

😤 : Worse role play-related encounter and what advice you would give to others to avoid similar situations?

✌ : Fondest role-play memory, between muses?

✿ : Fondest role-play memory, between muns?

웃 : An existing character you’ve played in the past that you miss?

ツ : An OC you created that you are proud of?

유 : A role-play related instance that you regret/are ashamed/not proud of?

♂ : Do you have a role-play/writing routine? If so, what is it?

♀ : A trope you catch yourself falling back too often?

☿ : A trope you dislike?

✍ : Offer 3-5 tips on how to get other role players started on interacting with your muse.

✉ : On average, how long does it take you to write a reply that you’re pleased with?

❅ : Advice to non-role play blogs that want to get started?

✔ : What drew you to the character you currently play? What types of characters are you generally drawn to?

☯ : Greatest challenge to writing your character?

✘ : Any head canons you’d like to imply on you character but know they wouldn’t fit?

✯ : A head canon someone else has inspired you to adopt?

➳ : Do you prefer writing on your own, on tumblr/a forum, or on an IM platform? Why?

▲ : What sort of information do you like to see on someone’s role play page that helps you determine whether or not you would want to write with them?

▼ : Are there popular head canons for your character that you disagree with? Why?

♫ : Are there parts of your own personality that you reflect onto your character? How do they work?

❤ : What are some role-plays that you have done/are doing that you particularly enjoy and wish to share with your followers?

✈ : What do you think is your reputation in your role-play community?

⌘ : Where do you get some of your inspirations for plots/head canons? Offer an example, if possible.

ღ : What sorts of plots/characters/scenes do you have the most difficulty writing, and why?

☂ : Spread some love: mention someone you’ve met that has influenced you or your writing in a positive way, and explain how.

[dj-luka-deactivated20190307]

Anonymously ask my muse a question about any of their relationships you've seen them in on this blog.

[mmeserpent-a-deactivated2017102]

“Least of all the likes of me, I’m sure,” Catherine returned plainly. Stepping inside, she turned back towards the guards who had accompanied her, holding up a gloved hand to prevent them from entering as well. “You may wait for me outside. I trust I shall be perfectly safe in the company of one of the king’s most valiant musketeers.” Moreover, she did not want she had to say to Aramis to be overheard. 

The guards, although exchanging displeased looks due to their unit’s unending rivalry with Aramis’, could do nothing but obey. She waited until the door had been closed before pulling down the hood of her black cloak. “I must say I didn’t expect you to have lodgings quite so..domestic,” she remarked, glancing around as she removed her gloves, her expression of polite interest. “Do you tend the garden yourself?” 

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

       For a very brief moment he remained stuck between a confusion barely felt before, and a dash of glee towards the Red Guards now watching his very own door like the dogs they plainly are. A brief moment in which a dark gaze darted between her frame and the door, the astonishment written on his face only ever so slowly fading. The Queen Mother standing in his home. Talking about his garden like it was the most common thing to happen. ❝Whenever I find the time, yes. Please--❞ And him playing along, gesturing towards the cushioned stone bank below the wind chimes, still merrily ringing in the evening breeze.

      He makes sure to get his jacket, fetches a decanter as well, along with two cups, and feels entirely unprepared and a little humbled possibly, for what could a simple musketeer offer a queen? And more importantly, whatever would a queen want from a musketeer? ❝It is an honour, truly, to welcome you in my home, your majesty. Though I’m afraid a soldier’s hospitality might not quite live up to a queen’s standards.❞ Still the wine is good; bottles brought back from the last journey to Bordeaux, and possibly worthy of royalty. ❝Might I ask what I can do for you?❞

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

       ❝Well, obviously it would be my charm, and the fact that you had very little sleep last night, that would allow for it.❞

       He looks a little dishevelled, but sounds entirely merry; spaulder, boots, and jacket scattered across half the room, and the shirt still hanging loosely from his shoulders. There is quite the urge, undoubtedly, to simply catch her hand and pull her back into bed.

       ❝Along with the question whether one thoroughly enjoying oneself really consititues wasting time in the first place---❞

:: @bxnevolence (x)

[praiseandglcry-archive-deactiva]

            wine. the great healer to many, the key to emotion, the soother of demons and the doorway to the mind. give someone the chance to get drunk enough and there wasn’t much that wine couldn’t aid in bringing out of someone. thoughts, feelings and actions. sitting with his best friend drinking wine ––– it felt as though perhaps the war had all been a terrible nightmare and that time had simply reverted back to how things once were. except that, of course, they weren’t the same. not nearly.

            time had passed and the war had happened, aramis had left to become a priest, leaving porthos to fight for king and country. his chest still gave a squeeze when he fought beside aramis again, though now they had four years between them and a love that had been broken with each of their departures. though, porthos had felt that aramis had betrayed him for too many years throughout the war. perhaps it was the fact that he had never had to watch his back when fighting as a musketeer ––– not when aramis was right there watching it for him ––– and porthos had always been doing the same for the man he had devoted his heart to. that was how he’d been captured, after all. he hadn’t been watching his back well enough.

            then there was the fact that a lot could change in four years ––– the feel of uncertainty between them was now always at the forefront of porthos’ mind ––– and porthos wasn’t completely certain that aramis had achieved the full four years of celibacy without at least breaking it once. there might have been someone that porthos hadn’t been allowed the knowledge to be privy to. and watching aramis drink, though amusing, was also an indicator to how much had changed in their lives ––– not that porthos wasn’t drunk enough all on his own.

            his friend’s words, though slurred as they were, hit him as though he’d taken a blow to the chest. it had never occurred to porthos ––– not since he and aramis had come to a general understanding in their past relationship ––– that aramis might regret having once been intimate with porthos. despite everything between them, porthos himself didn’t regret a moment of it. he’d live it all again, even if it came to the very same outcome, simply to be close to aramis the way they once were…

            maybe porthos would have to propose that they move past it all and simply remain friends. his chest hurt from all of the choices that had lead them to this moment and the pain of a love lost only intensified from aramis’ words, though he tried not to let them show on his face. dark orbs moved downcast toward his own cup of wine that rested within his right hand on the table between them and his left hand fisted against his own better judgement. knocking back his wine, porthos reached for the bottle between them to refill his cup, not once regaining eye contact with his friend.

                                           ❛ then i’d say go with your better judgement. no one has to live with you except you. if the war has taught me one thing its that life’s too short for regrets. so don’t do anything that you might later regret and if you already have regrets… ❜

            porthos’ eyes finally raised meeting the dark orbs of the man he still loved. despite everything, porthos only wanted what was best for aramis. and so with his last words he drank from his cup again.

                                             ❛ ––––––––––then let ‘em go. ❜

                                                                                       @ivegxtyou ! | { X }

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

      It was the feel of uncertainty that -- untypically so -- had him reach for the bottle in the first place, and an absence of four years for the wine to magically work so quickly. Four years he had spent learning almost every day, that every feeling of love for the man sitting opposite him had been nothing but sin, and a carnal desire god did not approve of. Four years of Aramis remaining convinced that god was of love, and that the love he felt for Porthos was the purest imaginable. And once more he remained free of regrets. Except one---

      Except for the very fact that he had left. Turned his back on not only Paris and the life of a soldier, but also on the one person that had so entirely, so easily captured his heart. And for what? Clarity? Peace? When his mind had been ever clouded and a bad relationship with sleep had gone worse, for Aramis had spent the nights lying awake; had spent the hours of prayer ever repeating the same wish over and over. Let him be alive. Nothing, he would silently confide in that cup of wine in his hands, nothing in this world felt worse than not knowing whether the man you loved was well, or had lost his life in a war nobody had asked for, but the men not fighting it.

      Dark eyes watched his friend watch the cup, he swallowed a lump in his throat, and resisted the urge to reach out and capture that clenched fist with his own hand -- the way he had done it back in the day. The way that had told Porthos to let it go, go easy, he wasn’t alone -- he had his back. A lie now, wasn’t it? He’s had nobody’s back for four years, and nobody had his. Not even god.

      What if Porthos didn’t love him anymore? What if he had found someone else; a woman maybe he had married? What if he hated him for leaving?

      Turning the cup in his hands, it now was Aramis struggling to meet his friend’s eye; almost black orbs glued to the swaying red wine that still tasted cheap as ever and, contrary to what Athos once had him believe, did not help to cure pain whatsoever, but, on the contrary, made it ever much worse.

      ❝And what if it was your better judgement that, in the first place, told you you couldn’t learn? What if your better judgement told you that everything you’ve done, you’d do again, because it was the best thing you ever did?❞

      How he would do it all over. Another first kiss, another first falling in love, another night spend in the arms of the man he desired more than anything else in this world. For a brief moment, a few seconds at best, a very boyish and sinful side of his mind wondered how many scars the war had added to that alluring body and if he would be able to count them one day. And when their eyes met again, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips; almost sober, but most definitely sincere.

       ❝You’d live without regret then, wouldn’t you? The way you and I always have---❞

[eversncenewyork]

send me a ship and one of these and i'll write a mini fic

things you said at 1 am

things you said through your teeth

things you said too quietly

things you said over the phone

things you didn’t say at all

things you said under the stars and in the grass

things you said while we were driving

things you said when you were crying

things you said when i was crying

things you said that made me feel like shit

things you said when you were drunk

things you said when you thought i was asleep

things you said at the kitchen table

things you said after you kissed me

things you said with too many miles between us

things you said with no space between us

things you said that i wish you hadnt

things you said when you were scared

things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

things you said when we were on top of the world

things you said after it was over

things you said [make your own]

inspired by this

[bibliolatress]

bbc’s the musketeers + the onion headlines (3/?)

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

❝ We’re all just songs in the end, if we are lucky. ❞

:: game of thrones sentence meme (accepting).

            ❞Just songs?❞

       A tip of a boot finds yet another piece of rubble, the clatter of stone on the cobbles breaking the silence for a moment. The noise and excitement start a few yards behind them; in the mourning of his people, and the joy of a battle long over and won. They have lost Esgaroth, but before them lies Dale -- in ruins, but finally returned to those it has forever belonged to. Aramis has shed his uniform, merely a sword dangling from his hip; and while he too had fought valiantly, the former guard of the Master of Lake-Town does not quite dare to return to the people that once had loved to vilify him so much. Instead he glimpses down at the dwarf by his side, a somewhat amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

      ❞Any ordinary man that ever ends up in a song may as well consider himself one of the luckiest. But I suppose a prince wouldn’t know anything about that---❞

[ivegxtyouarch-blog]

❝ The past remains the past. We can learn from it, but we cannot change it. ❞

:: game of thrones sentence meme (accepting).

           ❝True! True, but what if---❞

      There is a pause that makes little sense; a usually oh so eloquent master of a silver tongue goes quiet for a brief moment to remember what he is about to say. Aramis doesn’t quite slur his words yet, in fact he feels and talks remarkably sober for the amount of wine he’s had -- and a freshly refilled cup indicates that he has no plans of stopping anytime soon. He chuckles, feels like Athos for a second or two, and realizes how quickly tides could turn. All it takes are four years for one to become a sober, noble Captain of the Musketeers, and the other to turn into a priest with red on his ledger and a cup full of wine.

      Still Aramis is remarkably chipper, happy to be back obviously, filled with purpose again and following what surely has been his true calling all along. Side by side with one he loves. Still. Forever.

      ❝--what if we are incapable of learning from it? That very short moment when you hear that voice in your head telling you this is a bad idea, and you merrily ignore it.❞

Like slipping into your best friend’s bed at night. And then again, and again.