US Helplines:

US Helplines:

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453

UK Helplines:

Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail [email protected]

Childline (for anyone under 18 with any problem): 08001111

Mind infoline (mental health information): 0300 123 3393 e-mail: [email protected]

Mind legal advice (for people who need mental-health related legal advice): 0300 466 6463 [email protected]

b-eat eating disorder support: 0845 634 14 14 (only open Mon-Fri 10.30am-8.30pm and Saturday 1pm-4.30pm) e-mail: [email protected]

b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm - 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm)

Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: [email protected]

Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600

Drinkline: 0800 9178282

Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999 1(open 2 - 2.30pm 7 - 9.30pm) e-mail [email protected]

Rape Crisis Scotland: 08088 01 03 02 every day, 6pm to midnight

India Self Harm Hotline: 00 08001006614

India Suicide Helpline: 022-27546669

Kids Help Phone (Canada): 1-800-668-6868

FREE 24/7 suicide hotlines:

Argentina: 54-0223-493-0430

Australia: 13-11-14

Austria: 01-713-3374

Barbados: 429-9999

Belgium: 106

Botswana: 391-1270

Brazil: 21-233-9191

China: 852-2382-0000

(Hong Kong: 2389-2222)

Costa Rica: 606-253-5439

Croatia: 01-4833-888

Cyprus: 357-77-77-72-67

Czech Republic: 222-580-697, 476-701-908

Denmark: 70-201-201

Egypt: 762-1602

Estonia: 6-558-088

Finland: 040-5032199

France: 01-45-39-4000

Germany: 0800-181-0721

Greece: 1018

Guatemala: 502-234-1239

Holland: 0900-0767

Honduras: 504-237-3623

Hungary: 06-80-820-111

Iceland: 44-0-8457-90-90-90

Israel: 09-8892333

Italy: 06-705-4444

Japan: 3-5286-9090

Latvia: 6722-2922, 2772-2292

Malaysia: 03-756-8144

(Singapore: 1-800-221-4444)

Mexico: 525-510-2550

Netherlands: 0900-0767

New Zealand: 4-473-9739

New Guinea: 675-326-0011

Nicaragua: 505-268-6171

Norway: 47-815-33-300

Philippines: 02-896-9191

Poland: 52-70-000

Portugal: 239-72-10-10

Russia: 8-20-222-82-10

Spain: 91-459-00-50

South Africa: 0861-322-322

South Korea: 2-715-8600

Sweden: 031-711-2400

Switzerland: 143

Taiwan: 0800-788-995

Thailand: 02-249-9977

Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800

Ukraine: 0487-327715

(Source)

Aramis: How would you like your hair cut?

D’Artagnan: Preferably with scissors, but a sword could be badass.

An unforeseen rescue ~ Aramis x reader

Picture not mine

Word count: 1,593

Warnings: some violence, but what else would you expect of a Musketeer fanfiction

Summary: The four musketeers are enjoying their day off when d’Artagnan is attacked by a stranger.

The square was bustling with people going along their business. There were a few older ladies sitting under a tree weaving baskets while keeping an eye on what their grandchildren were doing. There were a few scavenging dogs here and there trying to steal some scraps while dodging the boots of angry vendors. The four musketeers Athos, Porthos, Aramis and d’Artagnan were standing at the edge of the square under the arches that protected the walkway from wind and weather. Aramis was leaning against one of the stone pillars while the rest of the group stood near by.

The four of them were enjoying the peacefully normal everyday life of the people around them as they took a short break from their duties. On days like this with the sun shining through the luscious green leaves of the trees and when the chirping of the birds and the happy chattering of the people passing by were the only noises to be heard, everything seemed so peaceful, no violence, no danger, no one plotting against the king and queen – it all seemed so far away.

Over the crowd the more spiritual one of the group noticed a stranger coming towards them. He was wearing worn out pants, a shirt and brown leather boots. A scabbard and rapier hung at his side and his face was concealed by the hood of a cloak. Aramis had no doubt that the armed stranger was coming straight towards them.

Just as he pushed himself off of the pillar to warn his friends the stranger raised his voice. “Hey, you!”, he directed it at d’Artagnan. This startled the young man from the peaceful idyll he was captured by, making him send a surprised look the direction of the approaching person. Having his attention the stranger shouted: “Yeah you, musketeer scum!”  There was a slight grin detectable in the person’s voice. The words shocked the older musketeers and angered the young impulsive hothead.

Walking towards them the stranger’s rapier was pulled and immediately connected with d’Artagnan’s weapon. The clashing of metal on metal disrupted the tranquility of the afternoon. While blow after blow followed the other three wondered what their companion could’ve done to attract this person’s anger. The two fighters were almost dancing that elegant were their movements. Both of them seemed to be equal until suddenly d’Artagnan landed on the ground defeated, the opponent’s blade at his throat.

Just as the others wanted to step in, the attacker who had kept his hood on during the whole fight pulled it of only to reveal a woman underneath it. This made the older musketeers halt in their steps and a smile of recognition spread onto d’Artagnan’s face.

“(Y/n)!”, he shouted out full of surprise. “Hey there, farm boy!”, the girl said with a grin as d’Artagnan stood back up again. “How come you’re here?”, he asked and engulfed her in a tight hug. “You owed me a fight.” At that response the young man had to chuckle. “You improved”, he stated impressed. “Well, after you left I had a lot of free time on my hands”, (Y/n) said cheerfully.

Suddenly d’Artagnan grew serious pushing the girl away from him so he could look at her properly. “What’s with your dad? Does he know you’re here? He’ll be furious.” Being friends with her for such a long time d’Artagnan knew how her father hated it when (Y/n) went out on adventures, when she wasn’t the good little girl staying on the premises of their farm and how violent he could become.

Unlike d’Artagnan (Y/n) didn’t seem scared at the thought of her father. The happiness and cheerfulness didn’t disappear from her voice when she responded, a glint of relief in her eyes. “My old man finally cut the curb and now I’m a free woman!” As those last words left her mouth she turned high-spirited in a circle her arms wide spread as if she were trying to hug everything around her. “No family to bind me to that horribly boring place. And of course I had to come and see you”, she concluded which ended up in the two of them hugging again.

During the whole conversation the three other musketeers watched carefully. They still had no clue of what was going on. That was when the youngest musketeer brought (Y/n) over to introduce her.

“Guys, this is (Y/n) a childhood friend of mine from Gascony. (Y/n), these are my comrades Athos, Porthos and Aramis.” One after the other they bowed slightly. Being the romantic hero type Aramis of course had to be flamboyant by taking her hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles which made her blush.

Never had a man paid this sort of attention to (Y/n). Back in Gascony they all thought she was weird as (Y/n) knew how to fight and didn’t behave like the typical woman should and therefore they kept their distance. (Y/n) never cared about those boys back home but this man in front of her made her heart skip a beat.

Aramis was just as infatuated by her as she was with him. In his eyes she was the most beautiful and confident woman he had ever seen and he was impressed by her fighting skills.

“So (Y/n)”, d’Artagnan said turning back to his friend, “what are your plans for your stay in Paris?” Nervously chuckling and scratching the back of her neck the girl looked up at him. “Other than never wanting to leave ever again I don’t really have any. I still have to find a place to sleep.” “You want to stay in Paris?”, d’Artagnan asked surprised. “Yeah, I love it here, all the people, the action. And also... I... I kinda sold off the farm”, she replied embarrassed. “You did what?!. You sold the farm without even having any plan for the future, no place to stay?!” The girl looked away embarrassed.

“Hey, hey, we can see if you can spend a few nights at the garrison”, Aramis jumped in to spare (Y/n) from d’Artagnan’s anger. At the proposition the (e/c) eyes of the girl lit up in hope. D’Artagnan sighed. “Ok, but we have to go check something out. You stay here and afterwards I can maybe show you around Paris.”

“D’Artagnan you can’t just leave me here. It’s so boring. I want to come with you. Come on. Please?”, (Y/n) begged her finger itching for adventure, “you saw that I can take care of myself.” D’Artagnan didn’t like the idea of taking her with them but he couldn’t say ‘no’ to her pleading eyes and he knew she was far too stubborn to talk her out of this. So sighing he agreed causing the girl to jump up ecstatically.

When the five of them reached the old, vacant tavern where they were supposed to meet a merchant to seal a deal it was suspiciously empty. The musketeers immediately knew something was off. Turning to leave again they stopped in their tracks as unnoticed by them quite a handful of heavily armed men had entered the room add started to circle them.

An ambush.

The strangers’ weapons were already drawn. In response five more blades were unsheathed. Without a word spoken the ambushers attacked. There were far more men sent by the merchant than Aramis and his companions, so each of them had to take on multiple attackers.

Aramis regretted that he had led (Y/n) into this danger by not refusing to take her, but his mind wasn’t occupied by this thought for too long as two of the enemies charged towards him.

Slowly but surely one man after the other fell to the floor hardly standing a chance to the well trained musketeers. Even (Y/n) was able to stand her ground.

Once in a while one of the attackers’ blows would hit their target but luckily only causing some bruises through the armour or some minor cuts.

Just as they had thought they nearly made it another mad appeared out of nowhere the blade of the weapon heading straight for the charming musketeer’s chest. Aramis saw this coming but couldn’t do anything about it as he had his hands full with keeping two other men at arms length.

Luckily, he wasn’t the only one who noticed the appearance of this new man. Their new found companion had as well. Scared for the life of the attractive man fighting next to her, her swings grew more violent and she finally stuck her last opponent to the ground.

As soon as she had rid herself of him she ran over to Aramis just in time preventing him from being seriously injured by burrowing her blade into the back of the attacker which resulted in him dropping to the floor.

In the meantime the other four musketeers had rid themselves of the remaining rivals.

“Thanks, for saving my life”, Aramis said a little out of breath. “You’re welcome, handsome”, (Y/n) replied winking cheekily.

Since that fateful and very eventful day a few weeks had passed. Treville had allowed (Y/n) to stay at the musketeer garrison as long as she liked as a way to show her his gratitude for saving one of his most loyal men. The girl didn’t plan on leaving any time soon. She enjoyed spending time with the musketeers and aiding them on their missions. And once in a while she and Aramis would sneak off spending the afternoon off, away from the city on rides in the country enjoying the tranquility.

Still Standing ~ Tincke x reader

Picture not mine

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: mentions of violence

Summary: Reader wants to join Jan and Tincke on an ambush but they don’t allow it.

A/N: I saw Thieves of the Wood earlier this year and just immediately fell in love with it, with the characters, the setting, everything.

“Come on, Tincke. Please, let me join you!”, I begged desperately. “I’m sorry (Y/n), you’re staying here, at camp”, said the red haired man in front of me with insistence in his voice. “Why can’t I come? You never let me join you.” 

For the last few days Jan and Tincke had been planning an ambush on a carriage full of valuables and today was the day that they were going to implement that plan. Many of the men from the camp were going and I wanted to be part of it as well.

“You’re a woman. It’s too dangerous!”, Tincke answered me. This answer made my blood boil. “De Schoen is also a woman and you have no problem with her coming along! And just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself!”, I yelled at him angrily. 

My hands turned to fists around the worn fabric of my old skirts, preventing me from striking him in anger. Having lived with the others, banished in this forest camp for multiple months now I had gotten used to audacious remarks like his, but never before had I heard any from him. 

Tincke had always shown respect towards me. Furthermore he was the one who taught me how to protect myself both with daggers and the pistol, so he knew that I could actually protect myself - although I was a woman and women weren’t suited to know  their way around weapons as was decided by men, probably just because they were scared what we could do if we did actually know our way around swords and daggers.

“She knows the risks”, was his calm but infuriating reply. Although he seemed to keep a level head I could see it in his eyes that I was slowly getting to him. Tincke knew raising his voice and causing a scene might cost him his reputation of a mostly dependable leader and the respect of the others. 

“I know the risks too, I know I could die in this attack, see I’m not as naive as you think I am!” Tincke mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘oh, I know you’re not naive at all’, but I decided to ignore him in order to continue my rant, “So why can’t I actually come along? All I ever do is sit here in this camp and wait for you to return. I want to help. Please!” 

“No! You will not accompany us. You will stay here. End of discussion!”, and with those words he walked off towards Jan, leaving me standing in front of ‘Der Hunger’, seething in anger. 

I was going to join them on the ambush no matter what Tincke said. Whether he allowed it or not, I was going to be part of the action. At that very moment I didn’t care about any repercussions in any which way.

Already having a plan in mind, I stomped off into the direction of the tent I was staying in, but before I reached it I took a turn, doing a small detour around the camp, towards the hut in which I knew I could find an extra set of somewhat clean men’s clothing - a rarity in a place like this. 

Trying to seem unsuspicious I stopped to chat with some people here and there. Taking one last look over my shoulder, I quietly slipped into the hut pulling the makeshift canvas doors shut behind me. Inside I quickly found a bundle of dry clothing, stored alongside a few other trivial items in a simple oak trunk. 

Having in mind that Tincke, Jan and the others would depart very soon I swiftly shed my garments and rolled them into a more or less neat bundle, putting it in that very same trunk. Then without losing any time I slipped into the new clothes - first the dark brown, worn out pants, then a slightly cream coloured, wide and flowy shirt. Last but not least I pulled an old, tattered, dark wool coat over my shoulders.

The final touches were a dark blue scarf that I tied around my neck and an old hat that I had nicked from a man napping on a log next to the big, open, central fire pit. The fire pit was the centre of our community. 

So many drunk nights with friends had been spent here, so many nights had been spent here celebrating, so many of  Vagenende’s prophecies had been told here. 

The warmth of the fire and the ale gave us courage and hope in our dire situation.

Before I left I made sure the pistol in my belt was loaded.

As I stepped out of the tent I pulled  the scarf over the bottom half of my face, hoping no one would recognize me.

The cluster of men had already started to break apart when I reached the place where they had gathered in front of our small, little tavern. Keeping to the back of the group and out of the sight of Tincke, Jan and anyone else I knew too closely for them to recognize me, I followed them towards the main road through this part of the forest.

My head was spinning with thoughts and feelings. I was starting to regret my rash decision. My heart was beating with nervosity and fear. Tincke’s words reverberated in my mind. Maybe I should turn back. What if he was right? What if I was naive and helpless? What if I had no idea how much trouble I was getting into? 

But coming back from my trance I saw the somber faces of the men around me. I couldn’t run  back to the camp and hide. It was too late to do so, I was one of them now and I was not going to bail on them. They needed every help they could get. So I shook my thoughts away and swallowed my fears. I was ready for whatever came our way. I would gladly lay down my life for this group of men, these men who had saved me from starvation and hypothermia, if necessary.

We were concealed through some bushes and the verge along the dirt road, waiting for the signal. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, crouching behind some shrubs and greenery, my ears finally picked up on the faint sound of horses hooves in the distance. 

Looking around I saw that I wasn’t the only one who noticed, most of the banished tightening their grip on their pistols or daggers hanging from their belts. The sound grew louder and louder and soon enough we could see the top of the carriage move through the trees, the roof packed with trunks. 

Now my heart started racing again, but this time not out of fear but out of anticipation. Adrenaline rushing through my veins. I couldn’t wait  for all this to go down. 

Suddenly the coach rolled to a stop. My breathing hitched in excitement. The door was pushed open and a red haired girl stumbled out and fell to the ground. I recognized her, she was one of the working girls at ‘The Yellow Prick’, Tincke’s ‘favourite one’ as I once overheard him say.

A pang of  jealousy and hurt filled my heart, remembering the times I had gone looking for the red haired leader at the brothel and having found him and her sharing an intimate moment. 

But enough of that! I pushed my feelings aside and observed the events in front of me.

A man in uniform and a little boy, who I also recognized, had followed her out of the carriage. From my vantage point I could see two more men inside the vehicle, both dressed in elegant, noble garments and wearing wigs. All of them were accompanied by at least two or three guards. 

But just as the Bailiff bent down to check on the girl, she sprung up and started running into the woods. This was not at all what I had expected to happen, but obviously this was the sign we had been waiting for, for the other men around me charged, shouting with arms raised. I sprang to my feet and slid down the slope.

 The ambush was in full swing and so far there were no injured. I tried to help where I could. Some of the men had started pulling the wooden and leather trunks from the roof of the coach, some were busy unarming the passengers and the few guards that accompanied the travellers. The Bailiff must’ve fled at some point for he was nowhere to be seen. What a coward! 

I was currently busy helping two men lift one of the trunks, when I heard a faint but suspicious ‘clink’. Looking around I spied another guard that had gone unseen, standing in the shadow of a tree to the front of the coach. The man in blue and red uniform had just returned his ramrod  from the barrel when he raised his musket, ready to fire. 

Time seemed to slow as I turned around to see who was in his line of fire - Tincke. 

He was standing with his back facing the guard talking to one of the other men, not noticing the weapon pointed at him. It seemed like no one except for me had noticed the opponent.

For a second everything froze. My heart jumped in fear.

No, I couldn’t let him die. Tincke wasn’t supposed to die, these people needed him. I needed him, I realized. 

Without thinking any further I dropped the handles of the trunk I was holding and started sprinting with all my might. I couldn’t be too slow. I couldn’t fail. I would never forgive myself if I did.

I would risk my life for him. I would give everything for him. If he died it would most likely be the end of the banished. If I died it would only be one hungry mouth less.

I was expecting the impact and welcomed it happily. I felt the soft fur on my hands and his red locks tickling my neck as I shoved him.

The suddenness and force of the impact surprised him and toppled him off of his feet causing him to end up on the floor a few paces away from me. I slid to a stop where he was standing before. Then time seemed to restore to its former pace and everything went so fast I couldn’t quite comprehend it.

BANG!

 - the loud shot of a gun in the now otherwise silent forest, even the birds seemed to stop singing their tunes and all eyes were on me.

The uniformed man standing across from me crumpled down to the floor, a huge patch of red blood spreading over the spot where his heart was. 

Without even noticing, I had pulled and fired my pistol just in time to prevent him at his own shot, for I still stood there arm raised, some smoke still coming out of the barrel.

I did it, I saved Tincke. A smile spread across my face.

Suddenly  I felt a sharp pain searing through my body then gathering in my abdomen, causing me to crumple up and immediately fall to my knees.

From somewhere behind me I heard a gasp but I couldn’t place who it might’ve been from.

Only half aware of my surroundings I looked down at myself  shocked and saw deep red spreading and staining my light linen shirt. I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening. My brain seemed to be stuffed with cotton. 

I carefully lifted my empty hand to the red stain. Removing my hand again, surprise filled me at the blood on my fingers. 

Blood, my blood - I was dying, but this realization didn’t fill me with fear as I would’ve expected. A strange calm flooded through my body. As my body went limp and I slowly fell backwards only one thought crossed my mind, ‘I saved him.’

I didn’t hit the hard, cold, dirty forest floor but landed on something soft. Then Tincke’s face appeared above me. At the sight of him my lips turned upwards into a small smile. 

His face was distorted in terror and shock. His beautiful grey eyes were filled with fear and as he cupped my face in his rough hands tears started to roll down his cheeks. 

Tincke’s soft lips were moving as he tried to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear a word he said - everything had gone silent. And as my peripheral vision started to grow dark the only thought I could think of was how happy I was to have been able to see Tincke one last time, that his handsome face was the last thing I saw on this earth. 

Then everything went black.

i made something

Spooky foggy Edinburgh.