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bbcmusketeerskinkWelcome to the BBC The Musketeers kink meme
The lowdown: You post your prompt, anon or not. Someone else will hopefully fill it (also anon or not). Not for profit, just for fun. And in this case, for king and country.
Anon is on, IP logging is off.
Rules:
No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
No prompts with characters under the age of 16 in sexual situations, please.
Please keep the discussions in the prompt post to a minimum. We have a discussion post
Mandatory trigger warnings/warnings for both prompts and fills:
non-con/dub-con
abuse (physical and mental)
issues such as racism, sexism, homo-/trans-/-bi-/ace-phobia etc
character death
suicide
self-harm
eating disorders
extreme physical or mental illness
substance abuse (alcohol, drugs, medication)
bullying
gore and horror
If this list misses anything, do let me know, though please understand that if absolutely everything is added this list will never end.
You are encouraged and advised to add additional warnings at your own discretion.
Please make use of the subject line.
If your prompt alludes to the book or any of the other adaptations, please let us know which one.
Lastly, prompt freezes (which I have to say I’m really not fond of) etc will be at the mod’s discretion. I will decide on a prompt cut-off point for prompt posts once I know how fast the meme moves.
Announcement: A blanket spoiler warning is necessary for prompts pertaining to season 2. Just season 2 Spoilers in the subject line will do.
Archive:
https://delicious.com/bbcmusketeers
Discussion post:
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html
Official fill post (I strongly suggest you use it for better visibility of your fills):
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html
Mod contact post
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html
Free For All Round 1
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1823.html
The lowdown: You post your prompt, anon or not. Someone else will hopefully fill it (also anon or not). Not for profit, just for fun. And in this case, for king and country.
Anon is on, IP logging is off.
Rules:
No wank
No kink-shaming
Be respectful to everyone
The mod is not your babysitter
Use the warnings
No prompts with characters under the age of 16 in sexual situations, please.
Please keep the discussions in the prompt post to a minimum. We have a discussion post
Mandatory trigger warnings/warnings for both prompts and fills:
non-con/dub-con
abuse (physical and mental)
issues such as racism, sexism, homo-/trans-/-bi-/ace-phobia etc
character death
suicide
self-harm
eating disorders
extreme physical or mental illness
substance abuse (alcohol, drugs, medication)
bullying
gore and horror
If this list misses anything, do let me know, though please understand that if absolutely everything is added this list will never end.
You are encouraged and advised to add additional warnings at your own discretion.
Please make use of the subject line.
If your prompt alludes to the book or any of the other adaptations, please let us know which one.
Lastly, prompt freezes (which I have to say I’m really not fond of) etc will be at the mod’s discretion. I will decide on a prompt cut-off point for prompt posts once I know how fast the meme moves.
Announcement: A blanket spoiler warning is necessary for prompts pertaining to season 2. Just season 2 Spoilers in the subject line will do.
Archive:
https://delicious.com/bbcmusketeers
Discussion post:
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/557.html
Official fill post (I strongly suggest you use it for better visibility of your fills):
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/418.html
Mod contact post
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1356.html
Free For All Round 1
http://bbcmusketeerskink.dreamwidth.org/1823.html
Fill Making a family 21
Date: 2014-10-28 08:34 pm (UTC)Porthos let out a roar of fury of he booted the table across the room his face a mask of pure rage, body shaking with the need to act on his anger,
"We trusted you!" Athos growled, ice cold rage on his face, his eyes like blades of solid ice, and features hardened into a mask of accusing hate and seething anger "We left our pregnant lovers in YOUR CARE!"
"I am so very sorry" Treville said holding up his hands, in the two days since the abduction of d`Artagnan and Aramis he had, had the Musketeers and Des Essarts guards turn Paris upside down trying to find them, while sending word to Athos and Porthos who had only just returned furious and terrified.
"You`re sorry?" Athos sneered his scarred top lip curling back in derision
"I should rip your neck out and beat you to death with it!" Porthos growled looking at his Captain like he had Bonnaire "You failed us!, failed our family!".
Under any other circumstances Treville would have had both on a charge for this, but right now his own guilt was nawing a hole in his gut stopping him from acting out against the men before him "I will do everything within my power to get d`Artagnan and Aramis back alive, I promise" Treville stated
"You promised they`d be safe!" Porthos snarled "You`re promises are worth as much as the Cardinals!"
"What leads are there?" Athos snapped "Who did this?"
"We don`t know who" Treville addmitted "I`ve contacted your.....the ugh........Queen of the Court, Flea?, she is searching for answers, so far no one has found anything except...."
"Except what?" Athos growled.
Treville sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, taking a breath, not wanting to reveal this but having no choice either "Bouquets of forget-me-nots were found at both your homes" he admitted wincing at the sudden paling of Athos skin, the Musketeer staggered and would have fallen had Porthos not grabbed him "No, no no no!, God no!, not her!, not this!" he gasped shaking his head
"Milady has them?" Porthos whispered
"We believe so" Treville sighed rubbing the back of his head "We don`t know where though nore what she is plan......." he was cut off as his door was suddenly flung open and King Louis swept in Richelieu behind him along with Jussac and Cahusac of the Red Guards.
"Majesty!" Treville gasped bowing, Porthos and Athos following, the King in the garrison!, it was unheard of!
"Captain" Louis greeted "News of these terrible events have reached me, the kidnap of my Musketeers and their unborn children, a vile crime for which the culprits will hang! after being flogged in public"
"Indeed sire" Treville said glancing a Richelieu who simply glared back
"In light of this horrid business I give you leave to use the whole regiment of Musketeers and Des Essarts to find Aramis and d`Artagnan, plus his eminence will give over command of his guards to assist!!!", that explain Richelieu`s fury then! Treville mused "Are there any leads?" Louis asked
"We believe a Woman by the name of Milady de Winter is responsible for this" Treville replied pleased to see Richelieu flinch at the mention of the name "A known murderer and thief, where she has our men or why we do not know"
"Milady?" Louis repeated "You mean Comtesse de Winter?, she was a member of your household was`nt she Armand?" he asked looking at Richelieu who gritted his teeth scowling
"She was, however I found that she was stealing from me and plotting against my life, and had her removed from my household" he replied "I thought the Musketeers could handle her"
"We should her mercy" Athos whispered sounding broken in body and spirit "I will never make that mistake again".
D'Art return to Gascony, Brotherhood
Date: 2014-10-28 10:38 pm (UTC)Maybe it could be before he gets his commission and they don't believe he's training to be a musketeer until Athos, Aramis and Porthos turn up.
Or maybe there is some sort of trouble the four are meant to go help with and people can't quite believe that D'Art is a musketeer - maybe thinking he became one by dishonest means.
I would like there to be some trouble, and lots of brotherhood and protectiveness from the other three musketeers
I would prefer Gen if pos :)
Re: Fill: Fix You (TW for torture and d'Art whump) 5/5
Date: 2014-10-29 12:41 am (UTC)Regarding the leg, I don't mean that it has to be extensively dwelt upon, but it definitely did come across a little Magical Disappearing Injury Syndrome. It threw me in this case towards the end when it was indicated that Aramis was about to walk back to the palace, and I was thinking, if the injury was bad enough that Athos and Porthos sent him back to the garrison in the middle of their search for d'Artagnan, and then Treville was worried about him even going to rescue d'Artagnan, it must have been a decently significant injury and he's obviously mucked it up worse by not staying behind and taking care of it - so should he really be walking all of a sudden?
That was all.
It really was a very good story.
Re: The Ghost Whisperer (mentions of Savoy massacre)
Date: 2014-10-29 12:49 am (UTC)Athos + Unconscious Aramis
Date: 2014-10-29 12:52 am (UTC)Re: Fill Making a family 21
Date: 2014-10-29 02:39 am (UTC)Re: revenge
Date: 2014-10-29 05:39 am (UTC)+1
Re: Fill: Individualized punishments/imprisonment (non con, violence, slavery) 1/?
Date: 2014-10-29 05:46 am (UTC)Re: Aramis needs a better living situation
Date: 2014-10-29 05:51 am (UTC)I don't think I've seen one like this.
Re: FILL: Soldier Boy 2/?
Date: 2014-10-29 05:54 am (UTC)Re: Fill Making a family 21
Date: 2014-10-29 06:16 am (UTC)Lets hope Athos and Porthos find them before Milady makes good on her threat. Is she a omega to?
Fill: Fix You (TW for torture and d'Art whump) AO3 Link
Date: 2014-10-29 09:22 am (UTC)http://archiveofourown.org/works/2531396
Thanks for reading!
Re: Fill: Fix You (TW for torture and d'Art whump) 5/5
Date: 2014-10-29 09:22 am (UTC)Re: Athos + Unconscious Aramis
Date: 2014-10-29 09:59 am (UTC)[Fill} Re: Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… 2 / ? (TW violence)
Date: 2014-10-29 11:34 am (UTC)“I want everyone out here now and on the floor!” The man from behind him roared, removing his gun from Aramis’ back in order to swing it across the room, clearly enjoying the power of the people cringing under the gaze of the gun.
With the gun removed from his spine, Aramis could now turn to see whom it was who had been threatening him. The man in charge of this circus of an operation looked so ordinary it was almost frightening. He seemed to be mid-thirties, mousy-brown hair with no defining features or anything remarkable about him.
The tellers behind the glass were hesitant to move, visibly weighing up the options of staying behind the protected glass.
“Out here or we start shooting,” the lead gunman snarled, gesturing with his gun.“On the floor,” he ordered the tellers, before turning to Aramis, who was the only patron of the bank left standing. “You too.”
Sensing not other option, Aramis raised his hands and complied quietly, lowering into a seated position slowly. It was with great reluctance that Aramis obeyed the gunmen’s request, however with one gun still firmly trained upon him, he had little other options.
As the young male teller stepped out of the heavy security door, the lead gunman stepped forward, yanking the man’s shoulder, disorientating the poor frightened bank worker.
“Where’s the safe?” the armed assailant demanded, tucking the gun under the frightened teller’s chin, kneading it mercilessly so that the threat was clear.
“It’s in the back,” the young blonde revealed with a panicked gasp, trembling under the gunman’s hardened glare.
Aramis watched the scene carefully, hating how useless he felt in the situation. Perhaps if he could take on their weapons, turn the situation around somehow. But it still left far too many variables. If he pushed then, one of the men could get anxious and fire, which was something they did not need.
“Well go an’ open it,” the gunman pressed, pushing man away roughly so that the poor young bank teller almost tripped over his own feet.
“I don’t know the code,” the teller whimpered, raising his hands up high in surrender.
“Who does?”
“Our manager, but she’s out in a meeting this afternoon,” the young man spluttered, his attention solely focused upon the gun before him.
Oh by the good Lord… Aramis dropped his head into his hands for his unbelievably atrocious luck. Of course he would be the one to be stuck in a hostage situation by the absolute worst bank robbers in the history of the world. Had they even cased the building before choosing it? Surely even amateur crooks had seen enough Hollywood heist films to know that basic information about their intended target was essential? That anonymity was critical in the success of armed robbery? They hadn't seemed to but a moment's thought into preparing for the theft. Part of him wished to point out these mistakes to the men, but decided it probably wasn’t the smartest move he could try, considering as he had only just had the guns removed from his head and back.
“So no one here knows the passcode?” the gruff assailant growled out through clenched teeth, his frustration clear as his eyes tore over their hostages.
“It’s standard procedure…” the teller gulped.
It took a great deal of effort not to exhale an exaggerated sigh as the three gunmen stood before the room of captives, looking at a loss as to what to do.
With no code for the safe, all the men could hope to take was the cash in the registers, a mere pittance for the effort they had gone to. And Aramis was sure this would not satisfy their desires.
XXX
“I’m going in there,” Porthos demanded as they made their way over the police van where Tréville had men setting up a base of operations. The larger man glared furiously at the tall cream building across from them as though its plastered façade offended him.
With the security cameras destroyed, there was no way of seeing what was occurring behind the thick stone walls, leaving them the tortuous task of waiting for orders.
Inaction did not suit Porthos, it never had. The larger man abhorred the feeling of uselessness and powerlessness in these sorts of situations and Aramis’ absence made it all the more worrying.
“They have not made a list of demands yet, if we send you in now they might get nervous,” Athos tired to soothe the taller man with diplomacy and level-headedness, hoping Porthos would see the rationality in his words. “You don’t exactly read as innocuous. The last thing we want to do is spook armed men.”
“Damn it,” Porthos growled, punching his hands into his pockets with burning frustration, “Why couldn’t he just use an ATM like a normal person?”
“Because he’s Aramis,” Athos gave a small smirk towards the distressed man. Over the years they had spent a great deal of time in each others company, learning the quirks and oddities that made up each of the trio. And though these traits often bothered the others at times, they were also the things they loved about one another.
“Who’s that…?” d’Artagnan’s voice caused Athos to look up in the direction the younger man was staring towards. The sound of screeching tyres drew their attention instantly as several vehicles arrived on the scene.
“I’ve called in Rochefort’s taskforce,” Tréville reveal with a tight tone, avoiding the gaze of the two officers beside him.
“What?” Porthos growled furiously as he watched the armoured vans park across from them, creating a barrier between the bank and the surrounding civilians.
“You cannot possibly be serious?” Athos shot his superior a dubious look, as though he thought Tréville had gone mad.
“We’re handling this,” Porthos stated firmly.
“You’re all too close to this,” Tréville shook his head, “one of our own is in there, we need someone who can act as negotiator, we can’t afford emotions to get in the way.”
“And Rochefort is your first choice?” Porthos growled, eyebrows rising high upon his forehead as his gritted teeth.
D’Artagnan looked over toward Athos to try and gain information as to whom they were discussing. New to the division, d’Artagnan had yet to learn all of the interdepartmental politics and personal grudges that each of them carried for their supposed colleagues, though Athos did not see fit at that moment to discuss their illusive history with the arrogant officer, another time perhaps, one where Aramis was not being held against his will.
“He’s an experienced negotiator and exemplary squadron leader, I have confidence in his work regardless of your personal issues with him,” Tréville told Porthos with a stern gaze, keeping his tone and stance professional. “Rochefort will be calling the shots on this operation. You three are off duty, with a conflicting interest in this case. I have the authority to treat you as civilians, do not give me a reason to put you behind those barriers,” Tréville cautioned, nodding to the barricades being placed around the street, sectioning off the area from the general public.
“You have our word,” Athos complied though his tone revealed he did so unwillingly.
As d’Artagnan had never met Rochefort Tréville practically ignored his compliant nod, focusing his attention upon the more sour, ill-tempered looking of the worried trio.
“Porthos?”
“Agreed,” Porthos growled out with great reluctance, casting daggering glares at the blonde man approaching them.
“Hello boys,” the low tones of the cock-sure Captain as he met their gaze with a wide tooth-baring smirk.
“Rochefort.”
XXX
The trio of armed men stood before the exit, huddled together, whispering frantically as they discussed their options.
“Everyone put your shoes and phones in the centre of the room,” one of the men - the younger of the three - shouted across the room, walking towards the hostages, gesturing with his handgun as stalked about the room in distress. The lack of access to the safe had thrown the three gunmen, forcing them to improvise, which was never a good point of call, not for the hostages or their captors.
Casually Aramis complied with their wishes, tossing his boots into the centre of the room, rather impressed that today of all days he appeared to have matched his socks. One wouldn't think this hard to do as his sock collection consisted of plain black and white, though somehow he seemed to manage it.
“I don’t have a phone,” Aramis sighed as a gun was inexpertly directed towards him for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Though the sceptical look from the young man before him, prompted Aramis to continue. “I left it in the car.”
"Yeah right," the young man scoffed, pointing his gun at Aramis' chest as he patted down his pockets, realising there was nothing, he gave Aramis a hard look before stepping back.
“I did tell you,” Aramis offered, though the gunman said nothing in response as he was far too occupied with the fact that lights had gone out and the hum of the air-condition no longer churned in the distance.
"What was that?" the youngest assailant span around to catch the attention of his friends.
“And the power’s out…” Aramis sighed as he tipped his head back against the wall, figuring he might as well get comfortable. With the lights and air-conditioning switched off, the room was going to get stifling fast. This was only going to rile up the gunmen, making them anxious. It was standard procedure in these cases but at that moment it felt beyond irritating. Why add heat to an already frustrating situation?
“No talking,” the elder gunman growled, pulled back the younger as they checked the other hostages for personal effects.
Aramis gave a nod, giving his captor a gesture of compliance. There would be no use agitating these men. They were clearly not smart enough to target an older bank further out from the city centre, instead of one fitted with updated security measures and in close proximity to the Police Headquarters. A response team was probably already here; if he just faded into the background he would be out in about twenty minutes or less. If the others were here with him, they might be able to overpower the three gunmen, however he was alone here. The others were outside and while he was glad that they were safe from the chaos, there was still a part of him that wished they were beside him. It was a lot easier to be blasé and charming when he had an audience.
“What the hell are you keeping us for, huh?” The portly businessman stood up as he made his demands. Dressed in a rather fine fitted suit, he was clearly an executive or high-flyer from one of the offices in the surrounding area. He was probably a honcho of some large company or other, a giant of industry, but with an obvious lack of observation and common sense. The gunmen were idiots, yes, but they were armed with semi-automatics, whereas the hostages had no weapons to speak of.
“Sit down,” the eldest gunman growled, pointing his weapon in the businessman's general direction.
“Yes, I do believe that’s wise,” Aramis glared at the man in the slick grey suit, though he made no attempt to move off from the floor. There always seemed to be one person who had seen far too many action films and thought themselves as an everyday hero. But it was rare that moments such as these needed a Clint Eastwood or Chuck Norris to fight their way out. What those films never showed was the wake or carnage and paperwork that type of behaviour resulted in. No, it was better to wait it out, sit in the shadows and appear inconspicuous while he watched carefully for a moment to shut the operation down. Drawing attention to himself would most likely end in someone getting hurt.
“I’m not just going to submit to these men! You may be a coward, but I’m not,” the man spat at Aramis, disgust clearly read in his eyes as he scoffed brashly.
Strangely enough, as he sat trapped in a rapidly stifling bank by gun totting idiots, it was not the gunmen who were causing the sharp spike of anger to rise wickedly within him.
“There is a grand difference between cowardice and intelligence," Aramis whispered harshly, "now quiet down before you get yourself hurt.”
“Let us go,” the portly businessman turned to their captors, addressing them aggressively, ignoring Aramis' words completely.
“Sit your arse down!” the elder of the gunmen demanded, waving his weapon inexpertly, his finger careless upon the trigger.
“Just sit down,” Aramis urged with a groan, standing to try and pull the bull-headed man to the floor, taking the man's arm in an attempt to persuade him.
“Don't touch me," the man snapped in reply, pulling his arm away.
“I said sit down!” the gunman roared in furious anger, tensing violently at the threat to his authority.
"I will not!"
"Sit!"
The next few moments felt as though they were played in fast forward and slow motion all at once.
With no more than a split second to make a decision, the officer portion of his mind kicked in, calculation the risk and the threat to a civilian before he leapt between the men, pushing the larger man to the floor. However in the brief moment of reaction, Aramis saw the miscalculations of his actions - though he had no choice in the matter as the heat of a bullet met his shoulder with a sickening force, pushing him back onto the floor before he could even contemplate what had occurred.
Once upon the ground there was an odd pause of complete silence as the occupants in the room held their breaths in shock. There was no pain to be felt in this moment of anticlimactic absence of action, just the beat of his own heart, the echoing thud of his racing heart and the apprehension that this moment was soon to be lost into a chaos of mind-raging agony.
“That didn’t go according to plan,” Aramis hissed through clenched teeth as the numbing walls of bliss gave way to the wave of fresh, unapologetic pain hit him without mercy.
Re: [Fill] Re: Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… 2 / ? (TW violence)
Date: 2014-10-29 11:37 am (UTC)Re: [Fill} Re: Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… 2 / ? (TW violence)
Date: 2014-10-29 05:16 pm (UTC)If you wanted to, I think you could repost the chapter in reply to the prompt or in reply to chapter one so it is easier to find.
Re: [Fill} Re: Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… 2 / ? (TW violence)
Date: 2014-10-29 09:27 pm (UTC)Re: [Fill] Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… part 1 / ?
Date: 2014-10-29 09:29 pm (UTC)“I want everyone out here now and on the floor!” The man from behind him roared, removing his gun from Aramis’ back in order to swing it across the room, clearly enjoying the power of the people cringing under the gaze of the gun.
With the gun removed from his spine, Aramis could now turn to see whom it was who had been threatening him. The man in charge of this circus of an operation looked so ordinary it was almost frightening. He seemed to be mid-thirties, mousy-brown hair with no defining features or anything remarkable about him.
The tellers behind the glass were hesitant to move, visibly weighing up the options of staying behind the protected glass.
“Out here or we start shooting,” the lead gunman snarled, gesturing with his gun.“On the floor,” he ordered the tellers, before turning to Aramis, who was the only patron of the bank left standing. “You too.”
Sensing not other option, Aramis raised his hands and complied quietly, lowering into a seated position slowly. It was with great reluctance that Aramis obeyed the gunmen’s request, however with one gun still firmly trained upon him, he had little other options.
As the young male teller stepped out of the heavy security door, the lead gunman stepped forward, yanking the man’s shoulder, disorientating the poor frightened bank worker.
“Where’s the safe?” the armed assailant demanded, tucking the gun under the frightened teller’s chin, kneading it mercilessly so that the threat was clear.
“It’s in the back,” the young blonde revealed with a panicked gasp, trembling under the gunman’s hardened glare.
Aramis watched the scene carefully, hating how useless he felt in the situation. Perhaps if he could take on their weapons, turn the situation around somehow. But it still left far too many variables. If he pushed then, one of the men could get anxious and fire, which was something they did not need.
“Well go an’ open it,” the gunman pressed, pushing man away roughly so that the poor young bank teller almost tripped over his own feet.
“I don’t know the code,” the teller whimpered, raising his hands up high in surrender.
“Who does?”
“Our manager, but she’s out in a meeting this afternoon,” the young man spluttered, his attention solely focused upon the gun before him.
Oh by the good Lord… Aramis dropped his head into his hands for his unbelievably atrocious luck. Of course he would be the one to be stuck in a hostage situation by the absolute worst bank robbers in the history of the world. Had they even cased the building before choosing it? Surely even amateur crooks had seen enough Hollywood heist films to know that basic information about their intended target was essential? That anonymity was critical in the success of armed robbery? They hadn't seemed to but a moment's thought into preparing for the theft. Part of him wished to point out these mistakes to the men, but decided it probably wasn’t the smartest move he could try, considering as he had only just had the guns removed from his head and back.
“So no one here knows the passcode?” the gruff assailant growled out through clenched teeth, his frustration clear as his eyes tore over their hostages.
“It’s standard procedure…” the teller gulped.
It took a great deal of effort not to exhale an exaggerated sigh as the three gunmen stood before the room of captives, looking at a loss as to what to do.
With no code for the safe, all the men could hope to take was the cash in the registers, a mere pittance for the effort they had gone to. And Aramis was sure this would not satisfy their desires.
XXX
“I’m going in there,” Porthos demanded as they made their way over the police van where Tréville had men setting up a base of operations. The larger man glared furiously at the tall cream building across from them as though its plastered façade offended him.
With the security cameras destroyed, there was no way of seeing what was occurring behind the thick stone walls, leaving them the tortuous task of waiting for orders.
Inaction did not suit Porthos, it never had. The larger man abhorred the feeling of uselessness and powerlessness in these sorts of situations and Aramis’ absence made it all the more worrying.
“They have not made a list of demands yet, if we send you in now they might get nervous,” Athos tired to soothe the taller man with diplomacy and level-headedness, hoping Porthos would see the rationality in his words. “You don’t exactly read as innocuous. The last thing we want to do is spook armed men.”
“Damn it,” Porthos growled, punching his hands into his pockets with burning frustration, “Why couldn’t he just use an ATM like a normal person?”
“Because he’s Aramis,” Athos gave a small smirk towards the distressed man. Over the years they had spent a great deal of time in each others company, learning the quirks and oddities that made up each of the trio. And though these traits often bothered the others at times, they were also the things they loved about one another.
“Who’s that…?” d’Artagnan’s voice caused Athos to look up in the direction the younger man was staring towards. The sound of screeching tyres drew their attention instantly as several vehicles arrived on the scene.
“I’ve called in Rochefort’s taskforce,” Tréville reveal with a tight tone, avoiding the gaze of the two officers beside him.
“What?” Porthos growled furiously as he watched the armoured vans park across from them, creating a barrier between the bank and the surrounding civilians.
“You cannot possibly be serious?” Athos shot his superior a dubious look, as though he thought Tréville had gone mad.
“We’re handling this,” Porthos stated firmly.
“You’re all too close to this,” Tréville shook his head, “one of our own is in there, we need someone who can act as negotiator, we can’t afford emotions to get in the way.”
“And Rochefort is your first choice?” Porthos growled, eyebrows rising high upon his forehead as his gritted teeth.
D’Artagnan looked over toward Athos to try and gain information as to whom they were discussing. New to the division, d’Artagnan had yet to learn all of the interdepartmental politics and personal grudges that each of them carried for their supposed colleagues, though Athos did not see fit at that moment to discuss their illusive history with the arrogant officer, another time perhaps, one where Aramis was not being held against his will.
“He’s an experienced negotiator and exemplary squadron leader, I have confidence in his work regardless of your personal issues with him,” Tréville told Porthos with a stern gaze, keeping his tone and stance professional. “Rochefort will be calling the shots on this operation. You three are off duty, with a conflicting interest in this case. I have the authority to treat you as civilians, do not give me a reason to put you behind those barriers,” Tréville cautioned, nodding to the barricades being placed around the street, sectioning off the area from the general public.
“You have our word,” Athos complied though his tone revealed he did so unwillingly.
As d’Artagnan had never met Rochefort Tréville practically ignored his compliant nod, focusing his attention upon the more sour, ill-tempered looking of the worried trio.
“Porthos?”
“Agreed,” Porthos growled out with great reluctance, casting daggering glares at the blonde man approaching them.
“Hello boys,” the low tones of the cock-sure Captain as he met their gaze with a wide tooth-baring smirk.
“Rochefort.”
XXX
The trio of armed men stood before the exit, huddled together, whispering frantically as they discussed their options.
“Everyone put your shoes and phones in the centre of the room,” one of the men - the younger of the three - shouted across the room, walking towards the hostages, gesturing with his handgun as stalked about the room in distress. The lack of access to the safe had thrown the three gunmen, forcing them to improvise, which was never a good point of call, not for the hostages or their captors.
Casually Aramis complied with their wishes, tossing his boots into the centre of the room, rather impressed that today of all days he appeared to have matched his socks. One wouldn't think this hard to do as his sock collection consisted of plain black and white, though somehow he seemed to manage it.
“I don’t have a phone,” Aramis sighed as a gun was inexpertly directed towards him for the umpteenth time that afternoon. Though the sceptical look from the young man before him, prompted Aramis to continue. “I left it in the car.”
"Yeah right," the young man scoffed, pointing his gun at Aramis' chest as he patted down his pockets, realising there was nothing, he gave Aramis a hard look before stepping back.
“I did tell you,” Aramis offered, though the gunman said nothing in response as he was far too occupied with the fact that lights had gone out and the hum of the air-condition no longer churned in the distance.
"What was that?" the youngest assailant span around to catch the attention of his friends.
“And the power’s out…” Aramis sighed as he tipped his head back against the wall, figuring he might as well get comfortable. With the lights and air-conditioning switched off, the room was going to get stifling fast. This was only going to rile up the gunmen, making them anxious. It was standard procedure in these cases but at that moment it felt beyond irritating. Why add heat to an already frustrating situation?
“No talking,” the elder gunman growled, pulled back the younger as they checked the other hostages for personal effects.
Aramis gave a nod, giving his captor a gesture of compliance. There would be no use agitating these men. They were clearly not smart enough to target an older bank further out from the city centre, instead of one fitted with updated security measures and in close proximity to the Police Headquarters. A response team was probably already here; if he just faded into the background he would be out in about twenty minutes or less. If the others were here with him, they might be able to overpower the three gunmen, however he was alone here. The others were outside and while he was glad that they were safe from the chaos, there was still a part of him that wished they were beside him. It was a lot easier to be blasé and charming when he had an audience.
“What the hell are you keeping us for, huh?” The portly businessman stood up as he made his demands. Dressed in a rather fine fitted suit, he was clearly an executive or high-flyer from one of the offices in the surrounding area. He was probably a honcho of some large company or other, a giant of industry, but with an obvious lack of observation and common sense. The gunmen were idiots, yes, but they were armed with semi-automatics, whereas the hostages had no weapons to speak of.
“Sit down,” the eldest gunman growled, pointing his weapon in the businessman's general direction.
“Yes, I do believe that’s wise,” Aramis glared at the man in the slick grey suit, though he made no attempt to move off from the floor. There always seemed to be one person who had seen far too many action films and thought themselves as an everyday hero. But it was rare that moments such as these needed a Clint Eastwood or Chuck Norris to fight their way out. What those films never showed was the wake or carnage and paperwork that type of behaviour resulted in. No, it was better to wait it out, sit in the shadows and appear inconspicuous while he watched carefully for a moment to shut the operation down. Drawing attention to himself would most likely end in someone getting hurt.
“I’m not just going to submit to these men! You may be a coward, but I’m not,” the man spat at Aramis, disgust clearly read in his eyes as he scoffed brashly.
Strangely enough, as he sat trapped in a rapidly stifling bank by gun totting idiots, it was not the gunmen who were causing the sharp spike of anger to rise wickedly within him.
“There is a grand difference between cowardice and intelligence," Aramis whispered harshly, "now quiet down before you get yourself hurt.”
“Let us go,” the portly businessman turned to their captors, addressing them aggressively, ignoring Aramis' words completely.
“Sit your arse down!” the elder of the gunmen demanded, waving his weapon inexpertly, his finger careless upon the trigger.
“Just sit down,” Aramis urged with a groan, standing to try and pull the bull-headed man to the floor, taking the man's arm in an attempt to persuade him.
“Don't touch me," the man snapped in reply, pulling his arm away.
“I said sit down!” the gunman roared in furious anger, tensing violently at the threat to his authority.
"I will not!"
"Sit!"
The next few moments felt as though they were played in fast forward and slow motion all at once.
With no more than a split second to make a decision, the officer portion of his mind kicked in, calculation the risk and the threat to a civilian before he leapt between the men, pushing the larger man to the floor. However in the brief moment of reaction, Aramis saw the miscalculations of his actions - though he had no choice in the matter as the heat of a bullet met his shoulder with a sickening force, pushing him back onto the floor before he could even contemplate what had occurred.
Once upon the ground there was an odd pause of complete silence as the occupants in the room held their breaths in shock. There was no pain to be felt in this moment of anticlimactic absence of action, just the beat of his own heart, the echoing thud of his racing heart and the apprehension that this moment was soon to be lost into a chaos of mind-raging agony.
“That didn’t go according to plan,” Aramis hissed through clenched teeth as the numbing walls of bliss gave way to the wave of fresh, unapologetic pain hit him without mercy.
Re: [Fill] Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… part 1 / ?
Date: 2014-10-29 10:47 pm (UTC)I love how antsy Porthos is, and strict Treville, and the loom of Rocheforte!
Re: FILL: Soldier Boy 2/?
Date: 2014-10-29 11:46 pm (UTC)Re: [Fill} Re: Modern AU - Aramis walks into a bank… 2 / ? (TW violence)
Date: 2014-10-29 11:59 pm (UTC)(I frequently have to stop and remind myself to post each part as a reply to the original prompt.)
Portamis- No time for Haters (dark, time period-homophobia, Ace-Athos)
Date: 2014-10-30 12:21 am (UTC)Porthos and Aramis are careful, but a few times over the years they have been caught or accused by various people. Yet woe to the hateful person to try and call them out or try and get one or both of them hurt, for Porthos and Aramis are beyond ruthless and down right scary when defending one another, and completely unapologetic.
Summary: Porthos and Aramis being caught a few times in a compromising or intimate moment over the years by various ignorant and or nasty haters and how they dealt with them (some times with Athos' help).
Musketeers adopt wolf pups!!!!
Date: 2014-10-30 02:02 pm (UTC)On a mission they come across four abandoned wolf pups, and decide to adopt them (d`Artagnan uses puppy eyes and whines till Athos gives in!).
They tame the pups who become loyal and protective of their humans and even end up absorbing some of the same traits as their humans.
Athos`s wolf is grumpy and aloof
Porthos`s wolf is boistrous and fiery
Aramis`s wolf is charming and suave
D`Artagnan`s wolf is mischievous and adorable.
Potential names for the pups
Silver
Midnight
Shadow
Jet
Fill More than blood 5
Date: 2014-10-30 02:24 pm (UTC)Aramis as usual had declined the offer to go with them to the physicians, leaving d`Artagnan alone with his Alphas to be examined once again.
This obstetrician seemed to have Athos approval though, the man was a middle aged Beta with more than twenty years experiance in delivering Omega males and females, and beta and alpha females of offspring.
He also charged twice as much as the other physics in Paris but that seemed to be alright with Athos who watched closely as they man thoroughly examined d`Artagnan
"Narrow hipped, that won`t make for an easy birth" the man said clucking his tongue "Still the pelvis is flexible and youth is on his side"
"Everything else alright?" Porthos asked
"Hmmm, low weight gain, could do with increasing food intake, and taking extra rest during the day, but other than that he seems fine"
"I`m right here you know!" d`Artagnan groused not liking to be talked about as if he were invisible or idiotic, however the Beta continued to ignore him, his attention on the Alphas instead "Milk production is good, and that`ll increase over the next few weeks of gestation, I would suggest he start to consume a good pint or so of milk a day to build his strength, along with a good ammount of iron rich foods"
"We`ll make sure of it" Athos agreed "Anything else?"
"You could try and get him to do a serious of gestational exercises, designed to stretch the muscles and joints, especially the pelvis, I have a pamphlet you can take with all the details, and I recomend he abstain from horse riding, and any strenuous exertion"
"What about confinement?, when should he start that?" Athos asked while d`Artagnan glared at the men who were ignoring him right now
"Well he`s twenty eight weeks now, given the fact he`s carrying a large litter, but is still carrying high, I would say he should go in confinement in about a month, two weeks earlier than normal just to be safe"
"Great so I`ll spend two months bored out my skull locked away from the world!" d`Artagnan spat slapping Porthos hand away as he sat up and pulled his shirt back on "Why not just kill and burry me!"
"Stop being childish!" Athos chided "This is for your own good!"
"Bite me!" d`Artagnan shot back his hormones making him irritable and the way he`d been treated this morning was not helping the situation "I`m not so childish that I can`t carry three of your children!".
Athos sighed and gave Porthos a tired look "You take him home, I`ll settle up here and meet you at the garrison"
"Right" Porthos agreed
"I don`t want to go home!, I want to go to the garrison with you!" d`Artagnan protested struggling against Porthos hold on his arm
"You`re tired and over emotional now, you need to rest" the large Alpha replied "You`ll feel better after you`ve had a nap"
"A nap!!!, what am I five years old!!!!?"
"Well you`re certainly acting like it" Porthos snapped his Alpha coming out to show his dominance making d`Artagnan`s Omega snap to attention "Now stop being a brat and lets go home, acting like this is only putting the babies at risk"
"Right, and they`re all that matter" d`Artagnan muttered under his breath bitterly, if Porthos heard him he did`nt mention it, instead he took d`Artagnan`s arm and guided him back to their home in silence.