𓂃 Aramis — ♡

𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏 to truly understand aramis from d'artagnan and three musketeers, one must look past the simple literary archetype of the "soldier-priest" and step into the realm of pure, unadulterated cinematic romanticism. starygin’s aramis is an exercise in sublime duality, wrapped in the delicate silk of an aristocrat and the sharp steel of a legendary duelist. he is a man who exists entirely in the space between a prayer and a flirtatious sigh, executing both with a terrifyingly graceful precision. in the 1979 film, aramis is defined by an absolute, unflinching commitment to elegance. he does not merely walk; he glides through the gritty, chaotic world of 17th-century france as if the mud of paris wouldn’t dare soil his boots. starygin gave him a distinct posture—a slightly tilted head, a soft but knowing gaze, and a resting expression that carries a faint, melancholic beauty. he treats life as a grand stage where style is the ultimate virtue. when he speaks, his voice possesses a melodic, hushed tone, as if every sentence is a profound secret or a line of poetry intended only for the listener. this refinement is not a front; it is his core. he cares deeply about the lace on his cuffs, the perfection of his thin mustache, and the dramatic sweep of his plumed hat. while athos fights with tragic rage and porthos with booming strength, aramis fights like a dancer, turning the deadly business of a rapier duel into a beautifully choreographed ballet where he barely breaks a sweat. yet beneath this pristine, beautiful exterior lies a fascinating psychological battlefield. aramis is obsessed with his own soul, or rather, the aesthetic of saving it. he is deeply religious, speaking fluent latin and constantly studying theological texts, but his piety is perpetually at war with his vanities. he genuinely believes he is destined for the priesthood, frequently sighing to his brothers-in-arms that his time in the blue tabard is a temporary trial before he takes his holy vows. however, this spiritual ambition is constantly thwarted by his intense, irresistible attraction to the pleasures of the world. he loves luxury, he loves the thrill of forbidden political intrigue, and above all, he loves women. his romantic entanglements are not casual flings; they are high-stakes, dramatic affairs with powerful, dangerous noblewomen like madame de chevreuse. he treats these secret romances with a holy reverence, often using religious metaphors to describe his earthly passions. this creates a brilliant, hypocritical friction in his personality: he will spend the morning weeping over his sins in a chapel, the afternoon sneaking out of a duchess’s bedroom window, and the evening killing a man for implying he is anything less than a perfect gentleman. this brings us to his pride, which is perhaps his most lethal trait. aramis possesses an incredibly delicate, hair-trigger sense of honor that contradicts his gentle demeanor. starygin captures this perfectly with a subtle shift in his eyes—a sudden, icy coldness that replaces his usual soft smirk the moment he feels insulted. while he preaches forgiveness and laments that god has forbidden duels, his hand is on the hilt of his sword before the objection can even leave his mouth. he hides behind a passive-aggressive shield of polite manners; he will insult an adversary with the sweetest, most eloquent language imaginable, leaving the opponent completely infuriated while aramis remains entirely unbothered. he uses his clerical ambitions as a convenient excuse when it suits him, claiming his peaceful nature prevents him from fighting, only to draw his rapier a second later when the provocation escalates. he is a master of justifying his own vices, convincing himself that his violence is merely the defense of the innocent or the upholding of righteousness. in his relationships with the other musketeers, aramis is the quiet anchor of secrets. while porthos wears his heart on his sleeve and d'artagnan blurts out his ambitions, aramis is a vault. he operates in the shadows of the court, receiving mysterious scented letters and executing covert missions that he never fully explains to his friends. yet, his loyalty to the brotherhood is absolute. underneath the vanity and the secretive plotting, he loves athos, porthos, and d'artagnan with a fierce, quiet devotion. he will willingly throw away his life, his reputation, and his chances at the priesthood to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them against the cardinal’s guards. when dating or falling in love, this translates into a deeply intense, protective, and poetic partnership. he treats the person he loves as a sacred entity, offering a romance filled with soft whispers, intense eye contact, and the constant, thrilling danger of a man who lives on the edge of a blade. to love the 1979 aramis is to be adored by a man who will write a sonnet about your beauty in the morning, fight a deadly duel to defend your honor at noon, and beg god for forgiveness at night, all without ever losing his immaculate composure. 𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏

𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏 scenario 1: secrect meetings (#FLUFF,, yippee!) scenario 2: after a duel (possibly spicy??) scenario 3: flirting in the ballroom (#FLIRTY,, cuz why not😌) 𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏

⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ nothing, sry! (╥_╥) ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰ ⋱⋰